4. Research Questions
4.1. Choosing a General Research Topic
Victor Tan Chen; Gabriela León-Pérez; Julie Honnold; and Volkan Aytar
Learning Objectives
- Learn how to identify a topic to investigate.
- Learn how to ask questions to narrow your research topic.
- Learn how to create concept maps that demonstrate the relationships between concepts relevant to your topic.
How do you identify a good topic to study? Thankfully, sociology is such a broad field that we sociologists can study virtually anything we want, as long as it has some connection to society and social life. For that reason, we’d encourage you (with your instructor’s approval, of course) to not limit yourself to what you think other people want you to study. Think about whatever excites and energizes you. Which social theories really speak to you? Which social issues are you passionate about? Which public policies—existing or proposed—do you see making a significant difference in people’s lives? Which communities or groups do you want to help? Use these questions to identify a general topic that interests you enough to spend a substantial amount of time reading and writing about it.
How do you know your topic is relevant to sociology? One easy way is to think about the sociological theories you know (including the major paradigms and theoretical frameworks we discussed in Chapter 3: The Role of Theory in Research). Can you imagine any of these theories being relevant to the subject you’re studying? If so, your study has the potential to be sociological—even if none of the people currently studying this phenomenon or issue are sociologists.
Here are some other suggestions for picking a research topic:
- Choose a topic based on the areas where you have noteworthy experience—professional, personal, or academic. Think about papers you enjoyed researching and writing for other classes. Consider a specific group that you’ve interacted with or just care a lot about—for example, youth who identify as LGBTQ+ or patients at a community health clinic. Start with a social problem you’ve encountered before, such as gang violence or cyberbullying, or a policy or program you’ve experienced firsthand, such as healthcare regulations or zero-tolerance policies in schools.
- Think about what you’re intellectually curious about. Maybe you’d like to read up on specific sociological theories—start doing that, especially any academic writing on the subject. That should generate some ideas. If you can find out—or already know—whether more research is needed in a particular area, you’ll make your task of finding a good topic all the easier, because any new scientific study you propose ultimately needs to address such a research problem. To that end, you may want to ask a professor, preferably one active in research, about possible topics that are understudied in their subfield of specialty. You can also read up on what the faculty members and graduate students in your department or elsewhere are currently working on. That can tell you what the hotter topics of study are.
Note that finding research ideas by talking to people and looking at what they are currently studying isn’t necessarily “stealing.” Plenty of scholars study the same topic at the same time. Furthermore, you’ll find a collaborative, rather than competitive, spirit in many scientific communities that study a particular subject, given that scientists inevitably build on the work of their peers. (For that reason, too, we encourage you to share preliminary drafts of your research with other researchers when that time comes around.) As long as you credit other people for any ideas you borrow from them and do not just mindlessly mimic their research approach, your work should constructively complement those of other scholars.
Faculty and graduate student research interests vary widely, and it might surprise you to know what topics they’ve published on in the past. Many departmental websites will post or excerpt the curricula vitae (CVs) of their faculty members, and both students and faculty often have professional websites and social media accounts where they describe their research and link to their CVs. (Longer than a résumé and used largely in research and teaching fields, a curriculum vitae lists a scholar’s credentials, research interests, teaching experience, and important publications and presentations.) You can read some of their work and maybe schedule a time to talk with them, which could spark further ideas. Many professors and graduate students are willing to chat about research even if you aren’t taking a class with them—it helps, of course, if you have some existing connection to that person, such as being at the same school. - Identify and browse academic journals related to your research interests. Appendix A: Presenting, Writing, and Publishing lists a variety of sociology-related professional associations and the journals they publish. Faculty and librarians can help you identify relevant journals and find articles relating to your specific areas of interest. You can also skim the titles and abstracts of presentations at the conferences put on by professional associations (refer to that same list for links) to learn about the most cutting-edge research on a particular topic. As we describe in Appendix A, conference talks are usually about works in progress, so the topics they cover tend to be especially fresh and innovative.
If you pursue any of these kinds of brainstorming, eventually you’ll come across research papers to read. (In scientific lingo, a paper is a write-up of a study that a researcher has conducted.) A paper’s literature review (sometimes called a “background” section) will provide insight into the research question the author was seeking to address with their study. As you’re reading the literature review, look for what’s missing. Is the existing body of research on this topic incomplete, imprecise, biased, or inconsistent? If so, a gap exists in the literature that you might explore in your own study—assuming the author of the paper you’re currently reading didn’t address that very gap. Even if they did, they will usually flag additional research problems near the end of their paper—sometimes in stand-alone sections that explicitly talk about their study’s limitations or future directions for further research, and sometimes just in the discussion or conclusion sections at the end.
Note that your existing views on a topic will undoubtedly influence how you study it, and it is important to be aware and transparent about any preconceived notions and biases you have. How do you feel when people have other views on this subject? Do you believe your perspective is the only valid one? If you feel so strongly about the topic, certain findings from your research might upset you. In that case, you might want to choose a different topic because you don’t want to run the risk of even unintentionally designing a project that will get only the answer you believe to be best. That doesn’t fit with the spirit of science, which is about seeking the truth (even if actually getting at “truth” is exceedingly challenging and complicated, as we discussed in the last chapter).
Likewise, as a researcher, you should not put yourself in the position of feeling any pressure to downplay findings you don’t like. For example, imagine that you wanted to find out whether a relationship exists between intelligence and political party affiliation. You happen to believe (as many of us do) that the members of your favored party are without a doubt more intelligent, thoughtful, and attractive than their counterparts across the aisle. This deeply held belief of yours is not a problem in itself. If, however, you feel intense rage when considering the possibility that your study will actually find the opposing party’s members to not be so inferior, you’re probably too emotionally invested in this particular topic to conduct unbiased research on it. As a sociologist, you need to be open to being persuaded by the conclusions of rigorous research, even those findings that may be inconsistent with or unflattering to your personal or political perspective.
If you are engaged in research that requires interacting closely with the people you’re studying, you may find yourself encountering people with very different perspectives than your own. They may have strong opinions about the issue you’re studying, and their beliefs and worldviews may seem strange or even repellent to you. Nevertheless, you as a sociologist need to represent their viewpoints faithfully in your research. That may mean stomaching views and actions you vehemently oppose to portray individuals or communities fully and fairly in your work. If you can take up this open-minded viewpoint—which not many people can—then you can do truly groundbreaking research. For example, Kathleen Blee has done fascinating work on hate movement participants, as seen in her books Inside Organized Racism (2003) and Women of the Klan (2008). She clearly does not share the racist ideologies of the people she talked to, but what comes across in her work is the honesty of her observations—even when she wholeheartedly disagrees with what is being said or done. If you can’t bring a similar degree of patience and impartiality to your own research topic, then you may want to study something else.
Your feelings about a particular topic do not even have to be especially intense to influence your ability to research it. Scientists are well aware of the problem of confirmation bias—that we as researchers are inclined to interpret the data we collect in ways that support, or “confirm,” our existing views. This is a major issue in research, which may help explain why scientists are finding out today that many past studies cannot be replicated (as we discuss further in Chapter 12: Experiments). Even well-meaning scientists can fall victim to selective perception, the unconscious tendency to see what we want or expect to see. As a social scientist, you would be wise to start off any study questioning what you already know about a topic—and allowing yourself to be surprised by what you actually find in the course of your research.
That said, having strong feelings or existing knowledge about a topic shouldn’t necessarily stop you from studying it. Sociologists often find themselves motivated to conduct research that addresses inequalities or injustices. In academia, thinking a policy is wrong or a group is being marginalized does not necessarily mean that your research will be biased. For better or worse, the bar of objectivity that academics need to meet in their research is lower than that for, say, court judges or journalists at reputable news organizations, where members of those professions are discouraged or even prohibited from expressing their political beliefs.
Sometimes the best topics to study are those you do feel strongly about—what better way to stay motivated than to learn about something you care about? Furthermore, having a personal tie to a particular topic may make the actual work of data collection and analysis easier. For instance, if you happen to be a member of an organization, profession, or network you’re thinking of studying, you’ll probably find it easier to gain access to insider information and get people in the group to talk to you. Similarly, if you have directly experienced and intimately know a particular social phenomenon or problem, you may have the knowledge and skills to contribute more to the scientific study of it than any person new to that issue would be able to (see the sidebar Asking Questions in Need of Answers). Of course, you will have to weigh those potential advantages against the potential disadvantage of being too close to the group or experience you’re studying to examine it accurately and critically.
A final word of advice about choosing a research topic: be mindful of your mental health. A sociologist who has experienced a mental health crisis or traumatic event should approach researching related topics cautiously. There are plenty of worthwhile things to study, and there’s no need to jeopardize your well-being for a research paper.
Asking Questions in Need of Answers: A Q&A with Joyce Rothschild
Joyce Rothschild is professor emerita at Virginia Tech, having retired after serving for 27 years as a faculty member in the university’s Department of Sociology and School of Public and International Affairs. Her academic writings have covered topics ranging from worker cooperatives (companies whose employees own equal shares of the business and democratically make decisions on its behalf) to whistleblowers (people in organizations who divulge information about illegal or immoral activities within the group). A central question that has guided her research is how organizations can accomplish their purposes without top-down management. In a groundbreaking article published in the American Sociological Review (1979), Rothschild described a “collectivist-democratic” alternative to bureaucracy: organizations like worker cooperatives that allow all the group’s members to help decide important matters and freely voice their opinions and preferences. Her book with J. Allen Whitt, The Cooperative Workplace: Potentials and Dilemmas of Organizational Democracy and Participation (1986)—which won the C. Wright Mills Book Award from the Society for the Study of Social Problems—is a qualitative study of how collectivist-democratic organizations navigate the challenges of managing their operations without a head boss or hierarchies. For her study, Rothschild engaged in participant observation (a method we describe in Chapter 9: Ethnography) by working alongside members of the organizations she was studying and seeing firsthand how they operated.[1]
Why did you decide to embark on a sociological study of organizations?
As a graduate student, I remember thinking that it was hard to affect large social forces or bring about political changes writ large. Yet with a limited number of people, one could build grassroots organizations that addressed major challenges. And these groups didn’t have to be hierarchical and bureaucratic. Indeed, when I was in graduate school in the early and mid-1970s, organizations were popping up all around me that called themselves “collectives.” In these groups, people banded together to achieve a substantive goal that they held in common. Members related to each other as equals or peers. The whole idea was to offer everyone a voice and get them involved in the decision-making process on an equal footing—things that conventional organizations did not do.
At the time, I was very taken with Max Weber’s theoretical arguments about all the problems inherent to bureaucracies. This hierarchical and rule-bound form of organization dominated everywhere, even though many people found it to be incredibly stifling and oppressive. In other parts of the world, socialist countries had set up state-owned firms, but I could see that their bureaucratic organizations were not offering experiences to their workers that were any different from what capitalist bureaucratic organizations were offering here. Why bother, I thought, unless we can offer a better form of organization that gives people more autonomy, more voice, and more friendship-based relationships?
I decided to study these new “collectives,” which were already resisting hierarchies and putting into practice more collectivist-democratic forms of organizing. They had sprung up, of course, out of the larger countercultural social movement that was growing at the time, but I chose to study them as newly emergent organizations with some lessons to offer.
What methodological challenges did you encounter in your research?
In any participant observational study, the researcher has to strike a balance. You need to share enough about your research to gain access to the setting and to be seen as a person who can be trusted and potentially helpful to the groups you are studying. At the same time, you don’t want to share too much detail about how you may be seeing the situation. Otherwise, the people you are studying may just feed you what they think you want to hear. The same balance is needed when one embarks on a set of interviews. The right description of your project will get people to talk to you, but sharing too much information can bias what you learn from your respondents. Achieving the right balance is something that a new researcher should talk with their faculty mentors about.
A second challenge is time. You have to put in the time—whether it is an observational study or an interview-based study—to get the insight and in-depth knowledge you seek.
Students often struggle with specifying research questions. What do you think makes a research question “good”?
I think good questions are grounded in important theoretical questions. For example, When I started studying collectives, my central question was derived directly from the key question that Weber had asked almost a hundred years earlier: how do people organize on behalf of their collective interests? He argued that societies ultimately moved to the most efficient and rational form of organization, the bureaucracy, which operated according to formal hierarchies and impersonal rules. I saw something very different happening in collectives, and so my study’s research questions explored how these organizations went about accomplishing various things. After I got to know firsthand how alternatives to bureaucracy actually worked, I ended up arguing that the world needed another way of organizing—a post-bureaucratic model.
This brings me to the second big thing that a good research question needs. To be significant, a study needs an empirical reference—hopefully, something that is newly arising in the world, or something that previous researchers have not noticed much. I could not have done a successful study as a thought exercise. Yes, I had a specific theory I wanted to explore, but once I entered the field, my job was to learn from actual data and look out for surprises. It was my subjects who came up with new practices and a new rationale for their new organizational form—not me. I just observed and tried to faithfully describe what I saw.
Do you have any general advice for coming up with good research questions?
When I took methods courses as a graduate student, we were told that we should avoid being very involved with our subjects of study, as that might bias our research. However, more often than not, researchers do draw from their own experiences and attachments. This is what leads them to choose their area of study. It’s what has catalyzed their commitment. It’s how they know about an understudied phenomenon in the first place. I would say don’t be afraid to draw upon your own experiences and concerns as you delve into the process of figuring out what you most want to study. Once you decide you don’t want to just replicate and write about what is already well-known, then your only comparative advantage in research, as I see it, comes from your own involvements in life. This is what enables you to see something that others may not have noticed.
This is why my advice to the graduate students I have mentored over the years has been to scour your own life for experiences that have been meaningful to you. These experiences may have aroused great anxieties for you. Or they may have provided you with much-needed calm. Regardless, they raised questions—questions for which you presently have no answer. So, this is my answer to the problem of research bias: don’t avoid involvement with your subject matter, as involvement is what you’ll need to discover an important question that has not already been overworked. Instead, ask a question that your subjects need the answer to. That is what will lead you to an important research question. Remember, this is not just about your need to write a thesis. It is about other people’s need to learn some answers that will help them navigate an important situation they’re facing. Design your research project around that question, understanding that your answers will be unearthed in the process of your research.
In my case, I knew these new “collectives” were important insofar as they were seeking to do something that Weber had said was impossible in a modern society: building organizational realities that were peer-based, egalitarian, and democratic, not hierarchical or rule-bound. But how could they make their workplace processes and their decision-making processes work? The answer to this question was important to my subjects—to the many people whose organizations I was studying—and this is what motivated me and kept me going through the long process of research that ultimately gave rise to my book, The Cooperative Workplace: Potentials and Dilemmas of Organizational Democracy and Participation (1986).
Narrowing Your Research Topic
Once you have a topic, think about the different aspects of it, and what specific angle might be interesting to pursue for your study. What do you really want to know about the subject? As a warm-up exercise, try dropping a possible topic idea into the blank spaces of the questions in the following list. You’ll start thinking about the different dimensions of the topic you’re studying and what exactly piques your intellectual curiosity about it.
Defining and differentiating a phenomenon:
- What does ___ mean? What is the significance of ___? What is the value of ___?
- What are the various points or features of ___? What are the facts about ___?
- What are the component parts of ___? What are the types of ___? What kind of person is ___?
- How is ___ like or unlike ___?
- What case can be made for or against ___?
Understanding a process relating to the phenomenon:
- How is ___ made or done? How should ___ be made or done?
- What is the essential function of ___?
- What are the causes of ___? How did ___ happen?
- What are the consequences of ___? What is the relationship between ___ and the outcome of ___?
Understanding the context in which the phenomenon occurs:
- How is ___ different in ___ environment, time period, or other context?
- What is the present status of ___ (compared with ____)?
The third set of questions gets at another important aspect of a good research question: it starts with a specific population in mind. We want to know something about our phenomenon within a particular human population (e.g., residents of one country, all students, all members of a particular ethnic group, all human beings) or nonhuman population (e.g., colleges and universities in one country, all books published in a particular year, all multinational corporations). We’ll have more to say about our study’s population of interest, or target population, in Chapter 6: Sampling, but even at this early point, we would still advise you to have a specific population in mind when you devise your working research question. For instance, you might phrase your research question in this way: “This study examines how Policy X affects Outcome Y in Population Z.” (Note that the research question does not have to be phrased as a literal question—in fact, it often sounds better if you don’t do that!)
Developing a concept map around your topic may also help you narrow your research topic and generate a working research question. Using this technique, start with the broad topic, issue, or problem, and begin writing down keywords—all the words, phrases, and ideas related to that topic that come to mind. See which keywords can be grouped into larger concepts, and which concepts can be broken down into different types or aspects of that concept. Put all these keywords in boxes or circles and connect any related items with arrows. The arrows should point from what you think might be an independent variable toward what you think might be a dependent variable. Of course, many relationships are actually bidirectional: for instance, how much education you have affects your income, but your income can also affect how much education you attain. For the sake of brainstorming, however, you may want to focus on a particular direction—a particular cause-and-effect sequence. If education is your independent variable, for example, then focus on the arrow that goes from that box to the dependent variable of income: in this case, you have set yourself down the path of exploring research questions like how higher education matters in determining people’s later income. This approach of identifying concepts and connecting them causally will allow you to keep adding more boxes and arrows until you have a broad sense of how all the concepts that are relevant to your proposed study are linked by a chain of possible cause-effect relationships. You may then decide to frame your research question around one or more of those relationships, as we discuss in the next section.
In addition to assisting you in developing a research question, concept mapping will give you some keywords to use when searching the literature for relevant studies and publications on your topic (which we discuss in Chapter 5: Research Design). Concept mapping can also be helpful when you actually start writing your literature review, as it demonstrates the importance of each concept and its subconcepts, as well as the relationships between them (Figure 4.1).
So far, we’ve started asking questions about our topic and sketched out a concept map describing aspects of it. Now what? The next step is to actually draft a working research question. Take a minute right now and write down a question you want to answer with your research. Even if it doesn’t seem perfect, everyone needs a place to start.
Next, try to narrow down your question. Continue to use the list of questions we provided earlier to help you in that task. Also single out the boxes you want to focus on in your concept map: after taking any overly broad concepts and breaking them down into different types or aspects, you should flag which of them you’re most interested in. Eventually, you will settle on one or a few key relationships—that is, pairs of independent and dependent variables (and perhaps moderating or mediating variables that influence those relationships, as discussed in Chapter 3: The Role of Theory in Research).
For example, perhaps your initial idea is to study obesity. After an initial search of the relevant literature, you realize the topic of obesity is too broad to adequately cover in the time you have to do your literature review. You decide to narrow your focus to the causes of childhood obesity. Using the list of questions and your own concept mapping, you further narrow your search to the influence of family factors on overweight children. You are particularly interested in the ways that parents oversee their children’s diets: whether and how they prepare or purchase meals, sit down for family dinners, introduce vegetables and other healthy options, and so on. You also decide that toddlers in the United States are the target population you wish to study. Your working research question might then be “How do parental decisions about organizing meals affect toddler obesity in the United States?”
Key Takeaways
- Many researchers choose topics by considering their personal experiences, knowledge, and interests, which may make it easier or more personally fulfilling to conduct a particular line of research.
- You should be aware of and forthcoming about any strong feelings or preconceptions you have about your research topic, which may affect your ability to conduct unbiased research.
- There are benefits and drawbacks associated with studying a topic about which you already have some prior knowledge or experience, so you should weigh those pros and cons when deciding on the focus of your research.
- Ask questions about your research topic and sketch out a concept map that includes related keywords. This will help you focus your topic on a manageable set of variables that you find interesting to examine.
- You can read more about Rothschild’s research and her take on the future of collectivist-democratic organizations in the interview “Participatory Democratic Organizations Everywhere: A Harbinger of Social Change?” (2021). ↵
A document listing a scholar’s credentials, research interests, teaching experience, and important publications and presentations. (Abbreviated as CV. The plural is also written as curriculum vitae.)
A write-up of a study that a researcher has conducted.
A natural tendency to interpret data in ways that support, or “confirm,” one’s existing views, which can lead to flawed research findings that reflect the researcher’s personal biases.
A type of ethnographic observation where researchers get involved in the activities or organizations they are studying, taking on more or less formal roles as event participants or members of groups.
The larger group (of people, organizations, objects, etc.) that a researcher is interested in learning about and that their research question applies to. (Also referred to as a target population.)
The larger group (of people, organizations, objects, etc.) that a researcher is interested in learning about, and that their research question applies to. (Also referred to as a population of interest.)
A visualization of how concepts relate to one another, which typically includes boxes that represent concepts and arrows that represent relationships (with the direction of the arrows indicating the presumed direction of causality).