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Conclusions: Deciphering the Unspoken: A Collective Examination of Sensitive Fieldwork Experiences in Criminology and Security Studies

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Abstract

Preceding these conclusions are the experiences of 55 researchers from 40 Universities and research centers across four continents. These scholars have accumulated a collective experience of over 700 years in fieldwork, starting as early as the 1980s. Rather than a mere compilation of authors’ experiences, we aimed to undertake a comprehensive analysis of their research endeavors, extracting valuable lessons to enhance criminology and security studies in sensitive areas. The extensive review of chapters revealed both commonalities and unique aspects among the research projects.
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Chapter 32
Conclusions: Deciphering theUnspoken:
ACollective Examination ofSensitive
Fieldwork Experiences inCriminology
andSecurity Studies
AntonioM.Díaz-Fernández , CristinaDel-Real , andLorenaMolnar
Preceding these conclusions are the experiences of 55 researchers from 40
Universities and research centers across four continents. These scholars have accu-
mulated a collective experience of over 700years in eldwork, starting as early as
the 1980s. Rather than a mere compilation of authors’ experiences, we aimed to
undertake a comprehensive analysis of their research endeavors, extracting valuable
lessons to enhance criminology and security studies in sensitive areas. The exten-
sive review of chapters revealed both commonalities and unique aspects among the
research projects.
Throughout this book, one of our central objectives was to shed light on eld-
work experiences often overlooked in scientic discussions, conned to limited
circles of colleagues. Researchers may hesitate to share such experiences due to a
sense of embarrassment or the perception that they hold little value or relevance to
others’ projects. However, these eldwork experiences serve as practical demon-
strations of how methodological decisions intersect with reality in the eld, fre-
quently extending beyond the boundaries dened by research ethics committees.
The subsequent sections delve into the diverse approaches employed by the
authors of this collective book to access their sensitive samples, encompassing both
shared and distinct methodologies. We explore the methodological and ethical con-
siderations that arose throughout the different phases of their studies: before,
during, and after the research endeavors. To maintain coherence, we adhered closely
to the structure proposed to the authors for drafting these conclusions.
A. M. Díaz-Fernández (*)
University of Cadiz, Cadiz, Spain
e-mail: antonio.diazfernandez@uca.es
C. Del-Real
Institute of Security and Global Affairs, Leiden University, The Hague, The Netherlands
L. Molnar
University of Lausanne, Lausanne, Switzerland
© The Author(s), 2023
A. M. Díaz-Fernández etal. (eds.), Fieldwork Experiences in Criminology
and Security Studies, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-41574-6_32
610
1 Field Preparation
Proper preparation is vital for successful eldwork, as an initial misstep can obstruct
future strategies. This book’s authors have used various methods to understand the
territories they explored, from consulting experts and conducting literature reviews
to gaining insights from Internet forums. A researcher may develop a protocol out-
lining the target population, potential data sources, and risks to mitigate. In some
instances, researchers are obliged to submit their protocol to research ethics com-
mittees (in continental European terms), also known by the name Institutional
Review Boards (IRBs). While some institutions enforce stringent IRB oversight,
others do not. Notably, two-thirds of the research in this book did not seek prior IRB
consultation. As noted by Carthy and Schuurman, IRBs require ethical data-
gathering and minimal risk to participants or researchers. However, their sugges-
tions may not align with the eld approach. For instance, despite an ethics
committee’s advice, Menih chose casual attire to blend in. Sometimes, committees
proposed different rules based on the project funding agency. Even without formal
structures, researchers still acted responsibly. Most adhered to ethical standards
they deemed t, even if unconventional. Others faced unique risks, such as those in
cyberspace research (such as Moneva and colleagues), requiring additional security
measures to avoid potential cyber-attacks, ensure secure data collection and storage,
maintain legal compliance, and meet audit requirements.
The preparatory phase for eld access is often hindered by the presence of ambi-
guity and a lack of clarity regarding the specic object of study. This challenge
arises due to the limited research or recent emergence of certain phenomena. Carthy
and Schuurman emphasize the distinction between studying “extremism” and “ter-
rorism,” highlighting the need for careful consideration in approaching the eld and
engaging with participants. Similarly, Gassó and Gómez-Durán discuss the dif-
culty of studying sexting without a clear denition for the phenomenon. Bliesemann
de Guevara and Macaspac recognize the complexity, volatility, and mutability of the
eld, particularly in violent contexts where territorial control shifts between guer-
rilla groups and the State. In the realm of cyberspace, dening the eld itself requires
substantial reection that is still an ongoing process. Mattheis asserts that the
Internet serves as their eldwork domain, challenging the perception that it is
merely a “data source.”
Moneva and colleagues stress the importance of early conceptualization, as in
their case, for instance, hacktivism differs from cybercriminal activities. When
approaching the eld, there are factors that extend beyond the novelty or elusiveness
of the subject matter. The researcher’s perspective can potentially distort the phe-
nomenon under investigation. For example, Atkinson-Sheppard reects on her
understanding of Bangladeshi street children, realizing that conceptualizing them as
“illicit laborers” rather than offenders or mere victims was a more appropriate
research approach. She acknowledges that emotional constraints inuenced her per-
ception, preventing her from recognizing the children’s involvement in criminal
groups, the existing hierarchies among them, and the necessity for street children to
work for survival. Atkinson-Sheppard’s emotional reections led her to recognize
A. M. Díaz-Fernández et al.
611
her inclination to view children, especially vulnerable ones, as innocent and in need
of protection– a perspective shaped by Global North conceptualizations of children
and childhood. This recognition poses limitations when approaching the phenome-
non or object of study, as it inuences the choice of techniques and necessitates
reection on the emotional aspects related to the researcher’s positionality in
the eld.
While the objects of study in this book vary, there are notable similarities in the
approach strategies employed by the authors. The most common approach typically
involves conducting preliminary documentation work, albeit limited due to the
understudied nature of some of the topics, and then deciding on a specic day to
initiate contact by knocking on a gatekeeper’s door that has been identied during
the documentation period. For instance, Del-Real and van Steen emphasize the sig-
nicance of demonstrating extensive knowledge about cybersecurity issues prior to
initiating contact with the participants. However, on other occasions access occurs
more gradually, so perhaps it would be more appropriate to understand access as a
process and not as a single moment. This approach is what Feixa applied in his work
with gangs. His experience over the decades that he has researched this phenome-
non is that entry into the eld has never occurred all at once, but rather is a continu-
ous process of entries and exits that, in the end– and perhaps this is one of the
central elements of his reection– is a process of adaptation to the particularities of
the group under study.
The scientic literature highlights the signicance of gatekeepers as the most
apparent entry point into the eld. Among the authors, their typology has exhibited
considerable diversity, although they unanimously recognize their crucial role as the
gateway. One recurring reection revolves around the question of whether “ofcial”
gatekeepers such as social workers, police ofcers, or probation ofcers, who are
often considered formal representatives of the state, are an encouraging or dissuad-
ing factor for vulnerable and hard-to-reach groups’ participation in a study. Menih
provides an interesting insight to this doubt. Despite initial reservations, she discov-
ered that women experiencing homelessness, although vulnerable, had established
trusting relationships with formal state organizations. A similar situation unfolded
in Molnar’s study on sex workers, where social workers played a facilitating role in
initiating the recruitment process. Prado’s case also demonstrates how social work-
ers served as gatekeepers for accessing immigrant minors. The notion of what con-
stitutes a formal structure may vary across countries and can encompass entities like
the Men’s Behaviour Change Program, which offers group therapy and other forms
of treatment for men involved in domestic and family violence (Boxall and col-
leagues). Additionally, in the study by Borges and Faria, entities involved in the
Portuguese shelter system acted as gatekeepers.
The vital role of gatekeepers also applies to the study of state elites, as high-
lighted by Coller and Alcántara in relation to political elites, Diamint and Martínez
in the case of military and political elites, and Burkhardt and Boivin who accessed
police ofcers. Due to their signicance, the authors emphasize the importance of
identifying the specic gatekeepers needed, as the individual who can open doors
within one political group may not necessarily have the same inuence with another.
32 Conclusions: Deciphering the Unspoken: A Collective Examination of Sensitive…
612
In highly formalized organizations such as political parties, parliaments, armed
forces, prisons, law enforcement agencies, or intelligence services, the gatekeeper’s
role extends beyond facilitating access to also authorizing it. Even if alternative
means of access to the eld exist, consulting with gatekeepers as a matter of course
becomes necessary to prevent potential obstacles later on. Díaz, for example, took
preventive measures by presenting his study to the Spanish intelligence services,
even though they did not collaborate in it. Similarly, Balcells and Tamarit encoun-
tered an unfruitful response when approaching the Catholic Church through ofcial
channels, but they recognized the obligation to attempt this avenue before exploring
other options.
In situations where potential participants are located– and even constricted
within public institutions where access is restricted, the role of the gatekeeper
becomes indispensable. This is evident in the experiences of researchers like Halty,
who gained access to prisons and centers housing criminal psychopaths or minors
with signicant behavioral issues, and Prado, who accessed migrant minors through
the institutions where they were detained. In such cases, contact and authorization
to access these individuals can only be obtained through these ofcial gatekeepers.
It is not always a requirement for individuals to be institutionalized; they may sim-
ply be in a situation where contact and access are only possible through these gate-
keepers. This was the case for researchers like Lambelet and colleagues, who
accessed probationers, and Ingrascì, who interacted with Maa informants (pentiti).
It is important to note that access facilitated by the state may not always involve
individuals directly, but can also pertain to accessing documentation or archives. In
the latter case, the experiences shared in this volume illustrate that access is often
conditioned by factors such as the need to maintain condentiality or ensuring there
is sufcient staff available to anonymize and assist researchers. These consider-
ations regarding archives highlight the additional complexities researchers may
encounter when seeking access to historical or sensitive documents, requiring care-
ful management of privacy and security concerns.
There are also a number of less common gatekeepers, but whose role has been
essential as well. In Turner’s case, his gatekeeper was a friend “who had an events
company linked to Electronic Dance Music, [who] proved to be essential lion during
eldwork, gaining access to super-club guest lists that would otherwise have been of
limits with ticket prices around 80–100euros,” while in Feixa’s case, throughout his
long career working with gangs, his access points have been numerous: street educa-
tors, priests who had worked with boy scouts, a punk music researcher, the director
of a youth house, and a rapper. In the case of Vallés’ study of the Roma, the gate-
keepers were respected members of the community, while Güerri and Martí’s study
would not have been possible without a gang leader inside a Salvadoran prison. In
secret, dangerous environments or where participants are difcult to identify– such
as in Carthy’s or Díaz’s case– the gatekeeper may be a former member of the IRA
terrorist group whom a colleague introduced via email, or a former Spanish intelli-
gence agent and a former Minister of Defense, respectively.
In certain situations, gaining access to the eld may require navigating through
multiple successive gatekeepers. Güerri and Martí highlight the signicance of
A. M. Díaz-Fernández et al.
613
explaining and persuading each gatekeeper, recognizing their distinct roles, and
employing different approaches for each one. In the same vein, Del-Real and van
Steen acknowledge the complexities associated with researching diverse categories
of cybersecurity professionals, ranging from hackers to police ofcers, necessitat-
ing the adaptation of their access strategies to suit the distinct characteristics inher-
ent in these heterogeneous cohorts of participants. The access process plays a crucial
role in determining the level of freedom and exibility researchers will ultimately
have in conducting their investigation. It inuences factors such as where access is
granted, the types of participants available for study, or which les can be reviewed.
As Güerri and Martí emphasize, it involves an ongoing negotiation process with the
eld, from obtaining central authorization to engaging with the facility’s manage-
ment and ofcials responsible for granting access to specic inmates. Within this
negotiation process, there is ample room for renegotiating the researcher’s presence
in the eld, which can have positive or negative implications.
However, despite thorough preparatory work and strategic efforts, there are
instances where these endeavors may not yield the desired outcome. Refusals to
grant access to the eld can take various forms, such as citing an inconvenient tim-
ing, the need for further consultation, deeming the research topic irrelevant, raising
security concerns, or simply maintaining silence. In such instances, researchers may
encounter signicant obstacles that impede their progress. In situations where
access is blocked, as observed by Diamint and Martínez, alternative approaches
may need to be considered. For example, seeking access through higher-level
authorities, such as government ministers, may present a potential avenue to over-
come initial refusals. This tactic has proven successful for these researchers in gain-
ing entry to their respective elds of study. Alternatively, researchers may opt to
exercise patience, allowing time to facilitate the removal of obstacles and pave the
way for eventual access. In studying cybercriminals, Moneva and colleagues pro-
pose an interesting idea that warrants further exploration in the future. They bring
up the possibility of adopting the role of buyers within illicit markets as a means of
gaining entry. It is nevertheless important to acknowledge that such an approach
carries signicant ethical implications that must be thoroughly assessed and consid-
ered. Ultimately, while preparation and planning are crucial components of success-
ful eldwork, the role of luck should not be disregarded. Serendipitous circumstances
or unforeseen opportunities may arise, enabling access that was not initially antici-
pated. While luck alone cannot be relied upon as a sole strategy, researchers should
remain open to its potential inuence when navigating the complexities of eldwork.
In situations where direct engagement with participants is neither possible nor
advisable due to safety concerns, researchers must resort to indirect approaches.
Ingrascì, for example, faced the challenge of studying dangerous groups like the
Cosa Nostra in Sicily and the ‘Ndrangheta in Calabria. In such cases, the most fea-
sible approach involved engaging with local communities to gather information and
insights about the phenomenon rather than attempting direct contact with the maa
themselves. While the obtained insights may not be rsthand, alternative sources
such as transcribed conversations from police eavesdropping can provide valuable
32 Conclusions: Deciphering the Unspoken: A Collective Examination of Sensitive…
614
glimpses into the inner workings of these organizations, even if they cannot be con-
sidered strictly as “authentic natural settings.”
2 Methods
2.1 Sampling Techniques
The composition and size of the populations under study have posed signicant
challenges for the authors in this book. Various factors make these populations hard-
to- reach, resulting in difculties in determining their size and composition. Secrecy
plays a role in intelligence services as in the study of Díaz, while individuals who
have endured human trafcking may be wary of self-identifying due to fear like in
the research of Brunovskis and Surtees. In the digital world, individuals involved in
illegal activities or cyberbullying may be difcult to identify, as pointed out by
Vandebosch and Pabian, and some groups, such as the pentiti described by Ingrascì,
may be extremely small and hidden. Ingrascì’s research, for instance, sometimes
focused on a single individual, such as the only female pentito or the only lawyer
charged with maa association who decided to collaborate with the state. In the case
of parliamentary elites studied by Coller and Alcántara, military elites researched
by Diamint and Martínez, or cybersecurity professionals contacted by Del-Real and
van Steen, identication is relatively straightforward, but reaching and obtaining
their participation presents challenges.
To address the difculty of understanding the dimensions and composition of
these populations, researchers have made different decisions. In cases where obtain-
ing a list of individuals and designing a probabilistic sampling is not feasible,
researchers propose alternative approaches. Güerri and Martí suggest selecting one
out of every ve inmates in each prison module when it is not possible to obtain
comprehensive inmate data for sample design. However, in many cases, the sample
is determined by the institution itself, making it difcult to assess representativeness
and potential bias. The sample may unintentionally represent only novice offenders
and fail to include more experienced individuals or those who have not yet been
identied or apprehended. Ingrascì encountered a similar issue with repentant maa
members. This is a general challenge that can be mitigated through triangulation, as
we discuss later.
Non-probabilistic sampling strategies have varied depending on the characteris-
tics of the populations being studied. Prado used Facebook to identify and contact
groups of foreigners in the city of Málaga, Spain. Snowball sampling and conve-
nience sampling have been the most common methods employed by researchers in
this collective work, used by Turner in investigating nightlife in Ibiza, Bliesemann
de Guevara and Macaspac in conict zones in Colombia and the Philippines, Díaz
to identify members of the Spanish intelligence service, Del-Real and van Steen to
contact cybersecurity experts, and Moneva and colleagues to access the hacker
A. M. Díaz-Fernández et al.
615
community. In snowball sampling, the relationship between the referrer and referee
is crucial, and well-positioned gatekeepers can play a vital role, as stressed by
Carthy and Schuurman. The selection of strings and gatekeepers should ideally
result in a more representative sample, despite the non-probability nature of snow-
ball sampling. In these hard-to-reach populations, where it is challenging to control
the sample or have knowledge of the entire population, researchers may rely on the
concept of saturation to determine when to cease eldwork. Saturation refers to the
point at which new data or information no longer provides substantial insights or
adds signicantly to the understanding of the research topic. Díaz also adopted a
similar criterion to decide when to conclude the eldwork with Spanish intelligence
agents. Vallés estimated that saturation was reached after interviewing 28 Roma
spoitor and 19 non-Roma participants. Finally, despite securing the participation of
about 60 cybersecurity experts for interviews, Del-Real opted to conclude their
research after conducting 27 interviews. These examples illustrate the practical con-
siderations researchers face when conducting research with hard-to-reach popula-
tions and the need to adapt sampling strategies accordingly.
Another challenge inuencing sample design is the time factor. Accessing docu-
ments or obtaining necessary authorizations to interview individuals can take sev-
eral months to a year. This timeline may be unfeasible depending on the type of
research being conducted as noted by many authors such as Halty, Bueno, and
Prado. Even when researchers follow the procedures, there is a risk of being denied
access or receiving incomplete or irrelevant data. Once access is granted, it may
take a signicant amount of time to start the eldwork. Researchers often face tight
timelines, with pressure on their side rather than the organization’s.
2.2 Data Collection Techniques
Overall, the authors have utilized various techniques for data collection during eld-
work, including participant observation, interviews, surveys, documentary analysis,
and focus groups. The interview technique has been particularly prominent among
the research methods used in this book. It has served as the primary research method,
a preparatory task for gathering eld information, or a triangulation tool to validate
and complement other data sources. Interviews provide direct one-on-one contact
with participants, allowing researchers to gather rich qualitative data and insights.
The approaches to conducting interviews vary among the researchers, ranging from
predominantly positivist perspectives focusing on obtaining specic data, to inter-
mediate post-positivist approaches, to constructivist positionings where meaning
and understanding are cocreated between the researcher and the participant. These
varying approaches reect the diverse research goals and contexts explored in
the book.
In addition to the commonly employed qualitative techniques, there exist lesser-
utilized techniques within the eld. One such infrequent technique is Lambelet,
Ros, and Loetzer’s “instructions to a double,” which involved probationers
32 Conclusions: Deciphering the Unspoken: A Collective Examination of Sensitive…
616
evaluating the behaviors of their peers without personalizing or referring to specic
cases. Feixa, in his study of the gang members, has employed a diverse range of
techniques over the years that align with the specic population and the chronologi-
cal context of his observations. These techniques include participant observation,
focus groups, in-depth interviews, life stories, and analysis of media reports. Among
them, life stories emerge as the predominant and signicant technique in his work.
It is noteworthy that Bliesemann de Guevara and Macaspac, possibly due to the
similarity of their research domains, also coincide with Feixa in utilizing techniques
such as ethnographic immersion, participant observation, textile making methods,
and narrative biographical interviews. Furthermore, Turner introduces the concept
of “ethnographic immersion” as a technique that surpasses mere observation, expos-
ing researchers to certain moral dilemmas. Turner describes an initial period of
“unobtrusive observation” lasting 24hours a day, during which he selects a specic
location to meticulously observe and document his thoughts, observations, and
emotions using a cell phone, capturing the essence of the moment. The subsequent
phase involves marginal participation, necessitating a certain level of engagement
with the participants and even potentially involving limited alcohol consumption to
blend in with the environment and the people present. Once a level of trust and
acceptance is established, Turner is invited to accompany the participants in their
leisure activities during the evening and night, requiring a higher degree of
participation.
Among the most innovative techniques are those being incorporated for the anal-
ysis of the cyber world. These include monitoring software, online ads as honey-
pots, and the analysis of secondary data from leaks or purchases. In the realm of
topics explored in this book, there are a few noteworthy possibilities for experimen-
tation, particularly within the cyber world. For instance, one approach involves issu-
ing messages to different groups, directing them to various webpages or presenting
diverse information (Moneva, Leukfeldt, and Romagna). Additionally, Vandebosch
and Pabian have utilized other experimental techniques, such as creating vignettes
to measure situational factors that explain bystanders’ behavior, designing digital
games, employing pop-up messages, or utilizing mock-up social networking
services.
The limited utilization of archives and documentation is a notable aspect worth
considering. It is indeed true that many of the observed phenomena are ongoing and
challenging to document comprehensively, except police data as illustrated by
Burkhardt and Boivin. However, working with les presents a different scenario.
For instance, Halty’s examination of prisoner les and Carthy and Schuurman’s
analysis of police les provided them with a counter perspective to that presented
by the media, scientic publications, and interviews, despite these les originally
being compiled for police use rather than research purposes. Ingrascì also reects
on the signicance of accessing police and judicial archives in the context of study-
ing the Maa, while Lambelet, Ros, and Kloetzer discuss the importance of proba-
tion les. Access to such les can prove useful for triangulation purposes. However,
the challenging and unpredictable nature of accessing both the eld and documenta-
tion can potentially result in prolonged research timelines.
A. M. Díaz-Fernández et al.
617
Triangulation, although valuable for comprehending complex elds, is a tech-
nique that is seldom employed. Boxall, Meyer, Bartels, and Fitz-Gibbon acknowl-
edge its usage in conjunction with the “free-text narratives and comments recorded
by responding police ofcers” when studying incidents of domestic and family vio-
lence. Ingrascì also highlights the relevance of triangulation, particularly with police
wiretaps, stating that “the observed scene through reading the transcription of taped
conversations can be considered an authentic natural setting” due to the unaware-
ness of the actors being monitored. Díaz extensively utilized various sources,
including declassied archives, and successfully triangulated data with parliamen-
tary statements and press reports. Molnar and Vallés, Prado, Vandebosh, and Pabian,
as well as Friis, van Lith, van Bruchem, and Lindegaard, all mention the application
of triangulation with different sources or data obtained online in their respective
studies on violent behavior, terrorists, extremists, and video camera analysis.
Although time-consuming, researchers who have employed triangulation empha-
size its high utility.
3 Ethical andMethodological Considerations
3.1 Role oftheResearcher
Once on the eld, one of the rst things that the researcher must decide – when pos-
sible – is perhaps which role they will adapt among the target population. This must
be done in priority before the target population decides for the researcher without
any control. This latter might greatly impact the eldwork journey and the validity
and reliability of the results. The necessity of assigning a role to the researcher
within a group arises from the group’s need to categorize the stranger within their
midst, thereby providing a framework for understanding what to expect, and what
not to expect, from this “visitor” who will inevitably leave. Menih, who frequented
places inhabited by women experiencing homelessness– occasionally accompanied
by a social worker– consistently identied herself as a doctoral student to clarify
the context of her presence. Boxall and colleagues as well as Burkhardt and Boivin
continuously stressed that they were researchers, not police ofcers. Nonetheless,
dening the role of the researcher is not always straightforward. Turner, in his study
of leisure activities on the island of Ibiza, required time for his role to be under-
stood, as people in that environment typically associated such inquiries with jour-
nalists or undercover police ofcers. It seemed astonishing to many participants that
someone could “dup” the system and be paid for what appeared to be a holiday.
Features of the researcher such as their origin, ethnicity, or gender might pose
challenges in regards to the role that is attributed to the scholar by the target popula-
tion. However, to a much lesser extent to what other researchers have reported in the
past. Interestingly, within their sensitive research eld– male perpetrators of family
and domestic violence– Boxall and colleagues reported no issue with gender bias
32 Conclusions: Deciphering the Unspoken: A Collective Examination of Sensitive…
618
in their studies. In some instances, however, being a female researcher appears to
have had a positive impact. Atkinson-Sheppard suggests that being a woman enabled
easier access and contact generation on the streets and within NGOs in Bangladesh.
Ingrascì formed a unique rapport with “ex-maa women,” contrasting the “chival-
rous attitude” displayed by male counterparts. Among one of the more prominent
pentiti, this attitude became a means of avoiding discussions of violent incidents.
Boxall, Meyer, Bartels, and Fitz-Gibon indicate that rarely did a participant request
to speak with a male researcher. One situation they did experience was the request
by “indigenous respondents to undertake their interview with an Indigenous inter-
viewer, although some prefer to speak with a non-Indigenous researcher, given the
cultural shame associated with the issues and concerns about condentiality being
breached”.
The investigation of sensitive topics necessitates, perhaps more than in many
other areas, a profound reection on the researcher’s positionality: who I am and
what reality I construct in relation to the participating subject. Prado acknowledges
this when she emphasizes her understanding of the need to approach her research
eld while attempting to steer clear of its “cultural guidelines and hegemonic val-
ues” that could potentially distort the interpretation of the information obtained and
create an image of the studied community as culturally inferior. Atkinson-Sheppard,
being a foreigner in Bangladesh, and Macaspac, a Filipino citizen raised in Manila
and residing in the United States, both underscore the complex relationship and
positionality each had to navigate. Specically for Macaspac, the intricacies of his
situation are highlighted as someone trained in the Global North and conducting
ethnographic research in his home country, the Global South. Mattheis provides a
clear self-visualization and understanding of how her “identity, experience, and
privilege as a white woman raised in the middle class in the United States who is
committed to promoting social equality and equity” condition how she is perceived.
The essence of who we are is not something we can change quickly, if at all.
A strategy that is not commonplace but has been employed by some of our
researchers to enhance eld understanding and mitigate the challenges of being in a
“no man’s land,” as termed by Lambelet and colleagues, is the use of peer research-
ers. These individuals are typically either current or former members of the group
being studied. Their insight into the people, codes, language, and culture of the
group enables us to bridge the gap between our distinct worlds more easily. Menih
employs this strategy, collaborating with a woman well-versed in the dynamics and
codes of street life, whom she refers to as a “cultural consultant”. Similarly,
Atkinson-Sheppard, adopted this approach by working with a human rights worker
who had previously experienced homelessness. Prado, in her research, enlisted
members from her research center, such as researchers or eld assistants of diverse
nationalities, cultures, and languages, to aid in understanding the cultural and lin-
guistic context of her study. Feixa went so far as to hire a gang member as a research
assistant, which facilitated interaction with other gang members, transcription of
interviews, and assistance in interpreting the results. This gang member is also
acknowledged as a coauthor in the book they coproduced. Undoubtedly, this unde-
rutilized strategy not only offers signicant support in research but also carries the
potential to empower the studied group or individual by providing them a direct voice.
A. M. Díaz-Fernández et al.
619
Most of the time, the relationship between researchers and participants is imbal-
anced due to inherent structural inequalities. Contributors to this book specically
note that these relationships are not based on friendship or colleague rapport, but are
rather unidirectional or based on mutual benet. They caution against excessive
emotional closeness, which can jeopardize the integrity of the investigation. While
it is crucial not to foster friendships or a sense of equality with the participants, it is
equally important to resist attempts by participants to assume a dominating role.
Menih, cognizant of this, implemented preventive measures to avoid such circum-
stances. In the early stages of her research career, she, as a woman and young
researcher, encountered patronizing attitudes from guards, which subsequently
aided their understanding of the phenomenon. Sometimes participants may seek to
challenge the researcher in a bid to comprehend their perspective. Bueno details
instances where a participant deliberately created uncomfortable scenarios either
for amusement or to test the researcher’s boundaries, such as by exaggerating sexual
information or adopting a seductive demeanor. Asking Carthy about parents’ occu-
pations could lead to awkward situations, especially when social class is consid-
ered, as it may undermine the researcher’s credibility with the participant. Such
attempts are often seen as an effort to shift the power dynamic. In Vallés’ experi-
ence, one of the community’s highly respected elders failed to show up at the agreed
meeting time and place. Later, the same elder appeared unannounced at the research-
er’s house, asserting his authority. The authors typically manage these situations by
maintaining silence, indicating that certain comments are inappropriate, and con-
tinuing with the interview. Nonconfrontation is generally viewed as the best strategy
in these scenarios.
3.2 Locations andTimes
The locations where interactions between participants and researchers took place
have exhibited signicant diversity, as evident in the multitude of research experi-
ences contained in this book. Based on the authors’ contributions, three types of
spaces can be identied. The rst type encompasses the settings where the phenom-
enon under observation naturally occurs, necessitating the researchers’ presence in
those locations. For instance, Turner conducted his research on leisure in Ibiza,
which involved observing and engaging with participants in airports in the United
Kingdom and Ibiza, various hotels, pool areas, cafes, restaurants, bars, and super
clubs on the island. Vallés established a meeting space within the garden of the
house he rented. Bliesemann de Guevara and Macaspac encountered a unique situ-
ation in rural communities in Colombia and the Philippines, where participants
lacked neutral places like cafes that are commonly found in urban areas; conse-
quently, meetings often had to be relocated to farmlands or homes, a practice that
may not align with research ethics committee recommendations. The notion of
“where the phenomenon occurs” poses intriguing connotations in the cyber world.
In the research conducted by Moneva and colleagues on cybercriminals, accessing
32 Conclusions: Deciphering the Unspoken: A Collective Examination of Sensitive…
620
these individuals proves challenging yet not impossible. They navigate the digital
spaces where cybercriminals socialize and exchange knowledge, such as forums,
chats, and social media platforms. A similar approach applies to forums or online
environments where cyberbullying occurs, as in the case explored by Vandebosch
and Pabian.
When the choice of location is not inuenced by the aforementioned reasons, the
key factor is to identify a space where participants feel comfortable. In many cases,
participants are given the autonomy to decide the location themselves, a practice
that is commonly followed by the authors of this book. The range of spaces chosen
by participants has been diverse. For example, interactions have taken place in par-
ish ofces in the study of Balcells and Tamarit; NGO premises or social workers’
ofces in Menih’s research; a caravan accommodating sex workers or sex work
parlors in Molnar’s case; public places such as cafeterias, ofces, or private homes
in Díaz’s study; parliamentarians’ ofces in Coller and Alcántara’s research; or the
authors’ professional ofces as reported Diamint and Martínez. Ensuring privacy
can be challenging in small communities, whether they are rural towns or state pris-
ons. Vallés, Boxall, and colleagues emphasize the importance of selecting a space
that maximizes participant comfort and facilitates information sharing while adher-
ing to the security requirements outlined by ethics committees. Even in seemingly
public spaces like the streets or bus stops where individuals experiencing homeless-
ness spend their days, or in shelters where they stay overnight as in Menih’s case,
negotiation regarding both the space and time of interaction remains crucial.
In general, the amount of time available for the authors of this book to spend with
participants has been limited. One hour is typically allocated for conducting inter-
views, although there are instances where the duration signicantly extends beyond
this timeframe. Examples of longer interviews can be found in the works of Menih,
Díaz, and Coller and Alcántara, among others. Molnar and Vallés had interview
durations ranging from 20minutes to 2hours, similar to the range observed in the
interviews conducted by Diamint and Martínez. This demonstrates that the duration
of interviews is not necessarily linked to the type of participants involved. Güerri
and Martí highlight that the available time was often reduced due to various internal
processes that needed to be followed, starting from the moment of arrival at the
penitentiary until the inmate’s presence.
Participant observation, although not common among the authors of this book,
presents a separate case. Notable examples include Turner’s 3-month immersion on
the island of Ibiza in August over three different years, Atkinson-Sheppard’s 3-year
study with street children, and Molnar’s several years of engagement with sex work-
ers, as well as Menih’s involvement with women experiencing homelessness. When
conducting research using the Internet or other technologies, the element of time
also plays a signicant role. Ball and Broadhurst highlight that in their study of
cybercrime and darknet services, interaction with participants can be a protracted
process, involving delays between asking a question in a forum and receiving a
response, and repeating the cycle. On the other hand, Moneva and colleagues note
that ofine interviews tend to require less time, and different types of data can be
obtained. Some researchers have also found success with alternative formats for
interviews, such as audio exchanges, as a variant of the traditional interview.
A. M. Díaz-Fernández et al.
621
It is rather unlikely that researchers would have the opportunity to contact the
same person again to gather missed information. Therefore, the experiences of the
researchers underscore the unique and invaluable nature of each interaction with a
participant. Each interaction represents a virtually irreplaceable opportunity to
obtain crucial information and construct meaning together. However, Halty did
interview once or twice on a more regular basis: the rst time for the interview and
the second time to administer a supplementary test. In other cases, the challenges of
conducting a second interview were often associated with cumbersome and time-
consuming bureaucratic processes, as observed in Ingrascì’s research with the pen-
titi. That is the reason why in her case interviews lasted between 4 and 8hours.
Nonetheless, there was an exceptional situation where Ingrascì deemed it necessary
to make the effort to request a new interview with one of the participants.
3.3 Transparency
Transparency is both a value and a tool for researchers seeking access to the eld. It
is a crucial element that should be present throughout all phases of research. Its
importance lies in establishing and maintaining credibility, which allows research-
ers to effectively collect the necessary data. Coller and Alcántara, who have been
conducting studies on parliamentary elites for over 30years, emphasize the need to
explain their objectives transparently and demonstrate reliability through previous
research and publications. By showcasing their track record and commitment to
protecting sources and sensitive information, they establish their scientic credibil-
ity. They also direct potential participants to their research group’s website, further
emphasizing their transparent approach.
In addition to obtaining informed consent, it is crucial to provide potential par-
ticipants with comprehensive information about the research project, including its
objectives, research team, funding, and other relevant details. In a digital age where
researchers’ online presence can be easily scrutinized, creating a web page
whether personal or institutional– housing information about the researchers and
their work can serve as a benecial strategy. By referring potential participants and
organizations to this webpage, researchers can establish credibility and transpar-
ency, showcasing their previous articles, reports, press releases, or television appear-
ances. Coller and Alcántara have successfully employed this approach, and Diamint
and Martínez express regret that they did not do the same, as it could have poten-
tially alleviated some of the suspicions some participants had on their work. Several
authors, including Coller and Alcántara, Díaz, and Balcells and Tamarit, emphasize
that gatekeepers and some participants explicitly or implicitly conveyed that they
had researched their identities before granting access to the study.
However, there are certain contexts where achieving such transparency is not
feasible. For example, inmates in correctional facilities often lack Internet access,
making it impossible for them to independently verify the researcher’s identity or
credibility. This can create a fertile ground for suspicion, with inmates perceiving
32 Conclusions: Deciphering the Unspoken: A Collective Examination of Sensitive…
622
the researcher as an undercover police ofcer seeking to extract information. In
some cases, providing personal information about the researcher can even pose a
safety risk, as illustrated by Halty’s experience with criminal psychopaths.
Navigating the balance between transparency and potential risks or constraints
posed by specic settings is a complex endeavor. Researchers must carefully con-
sider the context and the potential implications before deciding on the level of trans-
parency that can be reasonably achieved while ensuring the safety and ethical
integrity of the study.
Transparency encompasses not only revealing the identity of researchers but also
effectively communicating their research objectives. Carthy and Schuurman recog-
nized that their initial verbose and formal messages to potential participants might
have deterred some from participating. Reecting on this issue, they adjusted their
approach and found greater success. They began with a concise introductory mes-
sage and then arranged phone or Skype appointments to discuss the research in
detail, including informed consent procedures. This shift in strategy proved to be
more effective in engaging potential participants. The importance of providing com-
prehensive information extends beyond researcher identity. Gassó and Gómez-
Durán’s experience highlights the signicance of conveying all necessary details.
When sending questionnaires on teenagers’ sexual behavior to school principals,
they observed that those who received the questionnaire were more open to discuss-
ing the data collection process and informing parents, compared to principals who
did not receive the questionnaire. The latter group, in large numbers, declined to
participate in the study. This demonstrates the impact of providing information and
engaging stakeholders, which can inuence their willingness to collaborate.
In the study of phenomena like cybercrime, Moneva and colleagues highlight the
value of public proles that allow participants to verify the researcher’s identity and
authenticity. Ingrascì’s experience with pentiti, who have been conditioned to be
suspicious since childhood, further underscores the need to create a trustworthy
environment. In cases such as Díaz’s engagement with intelligence ofcers, where
confusion with journalists or curiosity-seekers must be avoided, strict adherence to
anticipated topics and the distribution of his research center’s business card served
as protective measures. The challenge of establishing trust is also evident in Feixa’s
work with gang members, who initially questioned his identity as a researcher, sus-
pecting him of being a policeman or journalist. Macaspac, in his research on rural
communities, had to navigate between the roles of “social worker” and “political
activist” to gain acceptance and build rapport. Overall, transparency plays a vital
role in research, ensuring credibility, generating trust, and facilitating fruitful
engagement with participants. By openly communicating objectives, demonstrating
reliability, and adapting to the specic context, researchers can establish the neces-
sary foundations for successful data collection and collaboration.
Transparency serves also as a means to address participants’ concerns and mis-
conceptions regarding the purpose and focus of the research. In cases where sensi-
tive or controversial topics are being investigated, participants may question the
A. M. Díaz-Fernández et al.
623
motives behind the study. Balcells and Tamarit encountered such inquiries when
investigating cases of abuse within the Church. Participants expressed curiosity
about why the researchers chose to focus on this particular aspect rather than other
topics like Catholic family dynamics or education. By being transparent and open
about their intentions and motivations, the researchers could provide participants
with a clearer understanding of the research objectives. Similarly, Molnar and Vallés
faced questions from Roma community members who wondered why the research-
ers were specically interested in studying the Roma population and not non-Roma
individuals. In this case, transparency was necessary to address concerns about
potential biases or misconceptions. By engaging in open dialogue and explaining
the reasons for their research focus, the researchers could dispel any notions of
favoritism or disregard for other cultural groups. By addressing participants’ con-
cerns and providing clear explanations for the research focus, researchers can build
rapport and alleviate any doubts about their intentions.
Related to transparency, some researchers engage themselves to provide feed-
back to the participants and stakeholders about the results of the research.
Brunovskis, Surtees, and Halty found that promising to provide feedback to organi-
zations eased access to trafcked persons and criminal psychopaths, respectively.
However, caution is needed regarding the “price” of such access. For Halty, informed
consent must include this communication of results and parents must understand the
difference between being informed of research results and receiving an individual-
ized report on whether their child “meets the criteria for psychopathy.” In the case
of sex offenders, Bueno recommends providing feedback to the prison director at
the end of the eldwork, without revealing specic individual data. Coller and
Alcántara found that sending parliamentarians a preview of the results before pub-
lication kept participation high across different waves of the study. Diamint and
Martínez encountered more issues than benets when providing intermediate data,
as attempts to alter or inuence the investigation emerged once preliminary data
were known.
Nevertheless, a recurring theme is that participants often express preference to
the researcher that certain parts of the interviews or meetings remain unrecorded. In
such instances, the investigator must balance the convenience of having the record-
ing against the likelihood of gathering more information if the session is not
recorded. When recording is not feasible, swift note-taking or jotting down of key
words becomes essential, followed by documenting the information immediately
after the interview concludes. Memory should never be the sole method of informa-
tion retention, given its selective nature where some elements adhere more rmly
than others. Bueno suggests having a second researcher present, particularly if the
primary investigator is inexperienced. This approach, however, is often unfeasible
due to budgetary constraints. In Bueno’s case, postgraduate students were hired for
this role. Instances of dual-researcher presence are also seen in the eldwork of
Coller and Alcántara, as well as Balcells and Tamarit.
32 Conclusions: Deciphering the Unspoken: A Collective Examination of Sensitive…
624
3.4 Rapport
Numerous chapters have extensively discussed the diverse strategies employed to
establish rapport with research participants, reecting the varied personalities of
researchers. Transparency, as mentioned above, is a key step to cultivate rapport.
Researchers have employed various strategies to establish rapport with participants,
all centered around connecting with the human being behind the “participant.”
Some strategies are basic, such as personalizing invitations, addressing participants
by name, or engaging in conversations on topics unrelated to the research. Other
strategies involve nonverbal cues, such as maintaining eye contact, using animated
facial expressions and reassuring tones of voice, and minimizing interruptions dur-
ing observations by refraining from taking notes, giving participants sufcient time
to interact, avoiding impatience, utilizing open-ended dialogue-style questions, dis-
cussing sports or employing humor are additional rapport-building techniques cited
by most of authors. In addition, respecting cultural differences and sensitivities has
also been cited as key elements in establishing rapport with participants.
In addition, the signicance of speaking to participants in their language with
their vocabulary is emphasized across various contexts, including intelligence of-
cers by Díaz, police ofcers by Burkhardt and Boivin, sex workers by Molnar,
women experiencing homelessness by Menih, migrant women by Mesquita and
Faria, cybercriminals by Moneva, Leukfeldt, and Romagna, military elites by
Diamint and Martínez, and probationers by Lambelet, Ros, and Loetzer. Speaking
their language entails understanding their world and the experiences they will be
asked to share. Demonstrating a lack of understanding of their world not only ham-
pers cooperation, but can also engender suspicion, as highlighted by Moneva,
Leukfeldt, and Romagna in their research on cybercrime. This understanding does
not always have to be limited to technical knowledge specic to the research topic.
Borges not only adapted her language to that of the refugee women but also took the
initiative to learn about their countries of origin and the names of regional dishes,
further enhancing the connection and rapport established. Carthy and Schuurman
draw attention to the importance of language use when dealing with terrorists or
members of extremist groups, as certain words or phrases may resonate positively
with some individuals while causing offense to others. In the case of Boxall and
colleagues, gatekeepers warned them that using terms like “perpetrators”, “abusers”
or “offenders” in recruitment materials could hinder the recruitment process and
subsequent rapport with the participants. Similarly, Güerri and Martí point out that
researchers are often unfamiliar with the slang used in prisons, at least initially,
prompting them to request translation of prison-specic terminology into their own
vocabulary during initial meetings.
However, certain situations present challenges in cultivating rapport due to the
lack of control over the interview environment and conditions. For instance, Ingrascì
highlights the scenario where she interviewed maa pentiti, wherein the police
could ask to be present. In such instances, the researcher’s primary challenge was to
disregard the police’s presence, although complete control over the participant’s
A. M. Díaz-Fernández et al.
625
ability to do the same was limited. Similarly, Halty acknowledges the difculty of
building rapport with inmates within a prison setting. Bueno concurs with this pre-
dicament, specically within the context of engaging sex offenders in prison; in this
case, in addition, there were the serious consequences for him if the rest of the
inmates discovered the crime for which he was in prison. Nonetheless, the lack of
control over the interview environment is not exclusively conned to prison set-
tings. Vallés’ research with the Roma community exemplies situations where the
interview took place in the Roma women’s homes, and the men “joined the inter-
view and took control of the answers” […] “relegating the women to the background.
The COVID-19 pandemic necessitated modications in eldwork, rendering the
task of generating rapport more challenging. Nonetheless, researchers whose eld-
work was affected generally report that it was still possible to establish acceptable
rapport through virtual platforms or even when physical distancing and face mask
that covered a signicant portion of the face were required. Mesquita and Faría
conducted interviews with migrant women online amidst the COVID-19 pandemic.
To ensure the participants’ freedom of expression, a code word was established to
indicate if they were no longer alone in the room, hindering open communication.
Additionally, the presence of a translator sharing the screen with the researcher and
the refugee woman further complicated the situation, impeding the researchers’
ability to simultaneously comprehend the participant’s words and nonverbal cues.
Establishing rapport with individuals who are signicantly different from us, as
often encountered in the topics explored in this book, can be tremendously complex.
Several authors in this work express their initial fears and concerns about develop-
ing hatred or strong repulsion toward the participants once they come face-to-face
with them. This apprehension is understandable, considering the abhorrent behav-
iors some participants have engaged in, such as committing acts of violence against
vulnerable individuals or even murdering their own family members. Mattheis, a
researcher studying male supremacism, faced a unique situation where she herself
is identied as a threat by the very groups she studies, experiencing episodes of
online harassment. Ingrascì reects on the conicting feelings she experienced
when listening to a ‘Ndrangheta pentito’s account of a series of murders, describing
it as a horrible reaction within herself. However, she managed to maintain a neutral
attitude during the interview, perceiving the interview setting as a separate world
that facilitated this neutrality. Yet, she acknowledges the difculties of coping with
those feelings once she left the setting and transcribed the interview. Carthy and
Schuurman discuss how encounters with participants can generate discomfort and
even anger, serving as reminders of researchers’ own biases. In certain cases, the
researcher’s position vis-à-vis the participant can be even more complex to manage.
Halty, for instance, describes her participants as criminal psychopaths with a super-
cial charm and manipulative capabilities, despite the atrocious acts they have com-
mitted, such as the violent deaths of siblings or parents.
Rapport, however, does not serve as an impenetrable defense against deception
or distortion from the participants. The identication of the latter is imperative to
protect the reliability and validity of the research. Halty candidly acknowledges
instances where participants have lied to her, either from the beginning of the
32 Conclusions: Deciphering the Unspoken: A Collective Examination of Sensitive…
626
interview or even midway through. She has learned not to confront them, as it can
introduce an additional element to assess psychopathy, and more importantly, con-
frontation does not facilitate the progression of the interview. A similar situation
involving manipulation of the study was encountered by Friis, van Lith, van
Bruchem, and Lindegaard in their research on violent interactions between ticket
inspectors and ticketless passengers in public buses in Denmark. To promote utmost
transparency regarding their research objectives, participants were provided with
prior research ndings. This allowed them to familiarize themselves with the
researchers’ hypotheses and the specic observations the researchers sought to
make. However, some participants later expressed suspicions that certain partici-
pants (ticket inspectors) had modied their behavior while under observation.
Whether driven by different motives or sharing similar reasons, instances of decep-
tion can also manifest in the cyber world as highlighted by Moneva and colleagues.
In such cases, participants may attempt to impress the interviewer by exaggerating
or downplaying their activities or may choose to engage in an agreeable and accom-
modating conversation rather than a challenging one.
3.5 Compensation
Compensation plays a pivotal role in inuencing the recruitment of potential partici-
pants. It can be material or immaterial, from nancial incentives to social benets.
While monetary compensation may seem the most direct means of attracting par-
ticipants, this book’s authors often did not favor it, either by choice or necessity.
Fernández and Bartolomé encountered issues when offering gift cards as compensa-
tion, inciting discontent among non-recipients at a youth center. They even faced
instances of blackmail, such as a minor demanding increased pay and threatening to
delay the interview. In response, they chose to withdraw the offer and lose the par-
ticipant. Güerri and Martí attempted to compensate inmates, but they were often
hampered by budgetary limitations or bureaucratic constraints. Putting money into
each participant’s prison account proved burdensome for staff, leading to alternative
suggestions such as donations of books or soccer equipment.
Carthy and Schuurman rejected a proposal to gain access to terrorists, who had
not previously been part of any scientic research, in return for nancial incentives.
Similarly, Feixa was usually hesitant to offer payment, fearing it could engender a
“chain of interest” that might bias the results. Nonetheless, Feixa made an exception
by compensating a gang member for project hours. He could not, however, hire a
Latin King or a Ñeta due to funding institutions’ refusal– a hurdle he later over-
came. Menih chose not to compensate her homeless women participants, opting
instead to build trust. This decision proved effective as none of the women sought
compensation. However, she did offer coffee and cookies. Atkinson-Sheppard used
a similar approach, providing food or money to street children in Bangladesh while
observing their daily routines.
A. M. Díaz-Fernández et al.
627
Nonmaterial forms of compensation can also prove effective. Halty found that
the opportunity to break the monotony of daily life was a signicant incentive for
young inmates to participate in her studies. The researcher’s mere presence could
act as a protective element against extortion or violence, according to Bliesemann
de Guevara and Macaspac. Other researchers found value in communicating the
importance and uniqueness of the participants’ contributions, or earning the support
of a prestigious or authoritative gure. Moneva and colleagues found that IT secu-
rity students might prefer extra assignment points over modest monetary compensa-
tion, highlighting the potential appeal of nonmaterial incentives. Vandebosch and
Pabian took a novel approach by rafing a cinema ticket among participating
schoolchildren.
However, caution should be exercised when compensation is linked to personal
benets, particularly among vulnerable populations. Güerri, Martí, Carthy,
Schuurman, Bliesemann de Guevara, and Macaspac emphasized that researchers
must be clear that participation would not impact personal circumstances, such as
prison benets or relocation assistance for refugees. Misleading participants could
give the false impression that the researcher can improve their situation, potentially
affecting the data’s reliability, and the “voluntariness” of their participation.
3.6 Protection oftheParticipants
Participant’s protection plays a signicant role in the research projects included in
this book. Researchers take various steps to protect participants from stigmatization
and harm. The protection of research participants is encapsulated in a well-known
document referred to as the informed consent. This document, typically the out-
come of careful deliberation by the researcher and, potentially, the ethics commit-
tee, outlines the terms for interaction between the participant and the researcher.
The key elements of informed consent include understanding, capacity to consent,
and voluntariness. First, the prospective participant must comprehensively under-
stand what they are consenting to. To enhance understanding, Carthy and Schuurman
present the document after an initial discussion; however, this strategy is not univer-
sally effective. Due to the complexity of addressing ethical issues and the low lit-
eracy level among participants, Molnar and Vallés explained them that informed
consent is a requirement from their university to ensure respect for the person.
Menih made extensive efforts to explain her research objectives to women in street
situations slowly and in simple terms.
The second aspect is the capacity to consent. Commonly, this involves minors
and individuals in state custody, as illustrated by the cases of Halty, Pereda, and
Bueno. In the research on cyberbullying by Vandebosch and Pabian, after securing
parental consent, the minors were asked if they wished to participate, investing sig-
nicant effort in explaining the nature of their participation. Fernández and
Bartolomé sought consent from parents or guardians, but always asked the minors
if they wished to be part of the study. They advise working with participants who
32 Conclusions: Deciphering the Unspoken: A Collective Examination of Sensitive…
628
can legally consent, that is, those aged 14 and older in Spain. Therefore, contacting
parents, either directly or through schools, is vital, as studies involving minors often
go through school channels. In situations where participants are held in establish-
ments or institutions under state control, the ethical responsibility shifts to these
gatekeepers. Regarding street children, due to the inability to contact their parents,
the director of the NGO where they stayed consented on their behalf. With detained
minors, Halty left consent to be arranged directly between the center and the fami-
lies. Only in the case of Brunovskis and Surtees was a minor denied continued
participation in the study despite parental consent, indicating a gatekeeper’s intent
to protect the NGO.In studies involving online communities, consent management
can become complicated. When participants might be lying about their age, attempt-
ing to seek parental consent could risk losing valuable sample data. When in doubt,
it is recommended to treat participants as minors.
Finally, voluntariness in participation need to be considered from various angles.
It entails eliminating coercive elements and using an approach that reinforces the
voluntary nature of participation. Importantly, power imbalances between the
researcher and the participant, as pointed out by Vandebosch and Pabian, can result
in individuals feeling pressured to participate or continue participation. Researchers
must be alert to any discomfort that might invalidate given consent. In the case of
minors, they might comply due to expectations from parents or gatekeepers. This
dynamic can also occur in environments with power imbalances, such as the mili-
tary training centers in Martínez’s study. In a highly hierarchical environment where
dissent is not a valued element of the organizational culture, trainees in a military
classroom have few options to show that their consent is not voluntary or even to
leave. The cyber world introduces complexities around obtaining consent. The
ongoing debate about the public or private nature of online information and the need
for informed consent is aptly described by Mattheis. In situations involving honey-
pots, ethical dilemmas arise since we might be deceiving the participant by not
informing them about the study. With groups that perceive informed consent as
dangerous, such as immigrant minors, consent can be both verbal and written.
For individuals who view signing ofcial documents as risky or testimonial,
recorded oral consent can be utilized. In certain situations where recorded oral con-
sent is inappropriate or unsafe, the researcher can use “single-party testimonial
consent.”
Anonymization of participants is a fundamental measure of protection. Several
methods are used by researchers to maintain the anonymity of their subjects, such as
replacing names with codes or pseudonyms. This process extends not only to transcripts
or recordings but can also be applied in informed consent. However, care must be taken
to ensure that the data provided do not allow for deductive revelation of the participant’s
identity, especially in small communities or specic populations. When considering
online research and cybercrime, anonymity extends to nicknames and online identiers.
Similar to physical-world names, these nicknames are unique identiers within their
online communities. Moreover, researchers must be mindful of rephrasing online mes-
sages or communications as they can be traced back to the participants.
A. M. Díaz-Fernández et al.
629
A signicant dimension of protection also involves not revealing all the informa-
tion collected. This raises questions about whether this constitutes self-censorship
or participant’s protection. Some researchers acknowledge they are more consider-
ate about what information to disclose, especially when the information may have a
potential negative impact on survivors or specic groups. Finally, the media plays a
dual role in research dissemination. While it can be an ally in broadcasting research
ndings to a broader audience, it can also attract undesirable attention. This media
attention could lead to adverse outcomes ranging from the loss of funding to the
stigmatization of the research group or community. It is therefore essential for
researchers to prepare and manage their research dissemination materials carefully
and potentially liaise with their institutions’ press and scientic dissemination ser-
vices for effective media management.
3.7 Emotional Risks
In this collection of experiences, the editors note that while situational risks have
garnered some attention in the recommendations from ethics committees, emotional
risks have received less. Several researchers admitted overlooking the potential
emotional cost of their research topics, especially early in their careers. In addition,
some experienced serious emotional attacks or pressures. Mattheis faced harass-
ment from extremists on social media, receiving varied responses from peers, how-
ever without a clear line of action ranging from the opposite extremes of “ght
back” to “don’t feed the trolls.” On the other hand, researchers such as Borges and
Faría felt helpless about their inability to help more to these refugee women, and
Bueno had disturbing experiences working with inmates who had abused minors.
Notably, emotional exposure does not exclusively stem from personal contact; it can
also arise from interacting with materials. For instance, Mattheis found her work
with subjects related to hate, extremism, and violence particularly challenging due
to the disturbing content, while Burkhardt and Boivin mention the traumatic effect
on watching highly violent police content.
Emotion management should ideally start before entering the eld, as Atkinson-
Sheppard illustrates, who dealt with shock and anxiety while working with street
children. Likewise, Pereda highlights the emotional impact of working with victim-
ized minors, and Prado echoes the same sentiment from his experience with incar-
cerated youth. However, safety recommendations provided by ethics committees to
address such issues seem insufcient. Mattheis, for instance, found a lack of
resources and guidance to tackle harassment. The accounts presented in this book
highlight the pressing need for more attention to emotional risks, which, if left
unaddressed, can profoundly affect researchers. Enhanced support from ethics com-
mittees and more robust systems to deal with these emotional challenges are neces-
sary for the well- being of researchers and the integrity of the research process.
Authors’ strategies to minimize the emotional fatigue can take many forms, such
as delaying interviews, taking breaks, or reducing the intensity of eldwork.
32 Conclusions: Deciphering the Unspoken: A Collective Examination of Sensitive…
630
However, even with such strategies, researchers often grapple with strong emotions
like anger, grief, frustration, powerlessness, fear, exhaustion, distress, and disgust.
Consequently, they have developed various coping mechanisms such as limiting the
number of cases worked on per day, meditation, mindfulness techniques, maintain-
ing general tness, and spending time in nature. Above all, debrieng with col-
leagues, partners, or supervisors seems to be a common and critical emotional
protection technique used by almost all researchers. However, the responsibility
often falls on close associates and family members, who most probably do not have
the specic training needed to assist in the process. Keeping a eldwork journal has
also proven extremely useful for many researchers as it serves not only to document
their work but also to record their experiences and emotions. Despite these strate-
gies, researchers must confront the realities of project timelines and funding, which
may restrict their ability to take necessary breaks.
The role of transcriptionists and translators in research is frequently underesti-
mated– as research actors– yet their involvement is crucial. These professionals
form the bridge between raw data and analyzable material, transforming spoken
words into written text or translating content into other languages. Their work goes
far beyond a mere literal conversion. They are often tasked with conveying complex
and nuanced linguistic elements, which can profoundly impact the understanding
and interpretation of the data. Incorporating transcriptionists and translators from
the outset of a research project can have several benets. First, it enables them to
become familiar with the project’s objectives, terminologies, and context. This early
immersion can lead to more accurate and contextually relevant transcriptions or
translations. Second, their integration from the inception of the project encourages
trust-building between researchers and these professionals. This trust is key in
ensuring open communication and mutual understanding, which can signicantly
enhance the accuracy and relevance of the transcribed or translated material. Finally,
transcriptionists and translators can provide a layer of emotional protection.
Research often involves dealing with sensitive or emotionally charged data. Having
professionals who are skilled in handling such material can safeguard the emotional
well-being of both participants and researchers while ensuring that the emotional
undertones of the data are preserved and accurately reected in the transcriptions or
translations. Therefore, acknowledging the critical role of transcriptionists and
translators and involving them from the beginning of a research project can pro-
foundly enhance the research process and outcomes.
3.8 Departure fromtheField
Regarding the departure from the eld, formal farewells with gatekeepers, such as
sending them a copy of the nished work or a summary of the main ndings, seem
to be common. This gesture not only shows appreciation for their assistance, but can
also provide valuable feedback to help improve their work or practice. However,
saying goodbye to participants can be more challenging due to a variety of reasons.
A. M. Díaz-Fernández et al.
631
The researcher might continue being connected to the eld, either through further
similar research or by virtue of living in the same area. Researchers with an activist
leaning may stay involved in advocacy for their participants or to continue address-
ing the issues studied.
Another consideration is the emotional toll and sense of responsibility research-
ers often feel toward their subjects. Some researchers nd solace in the knowledge
that their work could potentially help mitigate suffering or improve conditions for
the participants or similar groups. It is also evident that giving feedback or provid-
ing a form of contact for participants can be an important part of the departure
process, even if it is not always utilized by the participants. Researchers must also
be cautious in navigating relationships with participants that might want to extend
beyond the research project, particularly when dealing with sensitive topics or pop-
ulations that might involve manipulation.
In many cases, a specic act or event symbolizing the farewell seems to be a t-
ting conclusion. This can take various forms, such as small parties or workshops to
present the results. Some researchers have maintained a long and close relationship
with some of the participants; however, it is not the most frequent. Ultimately,
although parting can be difcult, both the researchers and their participants gener-
ally understand that it is an inevitable aspect of the research process.
3.9 Red Lines
Navigating the research ethics eld is often complex, as it requires a delicate balance
between obtaining the necessary data while ensuring participants’ rights, privacy, and
safety. It is, therefore, crucial to establish “red lines” or ethical boundaries that must
not be crossed, both for the researcher and for the participants. It is interesting to note
how different researchers address these red lines differently, depending on their
research context. The boundary established by Carthy and Schuurman, for instance,
serves to prevent participants from disclosing past or future illegal actions – what
seems to be the most evident red line for most authors– that they have not previously
revealed to the authorities. Similarly, Moneva, Leukfeldt, and Romagna ensured that
their virtual interactions did not foster or encourage illegal activities.
Working with vulnerable groups, especially minors, poses additional red lines. In
the case of Prado, the intention to commit suicide expressed by some minors
required a specic protocol to ensure their safety. This included encouraging the
minors to speak to a trusted inmate or prison professional and checking whether an
anti-suicide protocol was in place. This example demonstrates the importance of
having a plan for possible crises and being proactive in ensuring participants’ wel-
fare. Fernández and Bartolomé highlight two scenarios where condentiality com-
mitment can be breached: when minors are victims of abuse or mistreatment, and
when they are causing harm to themselves or others. The latter scenario aligns with
Prado’s approach, but it also involves notifying the authorities. The same strategy
32 Conclusions: Deciphering the Unspoken: A Collective Examination of Sensitive…
632
was employed by Vandebosch and Pabian when they observed severe cases of
cyberbullying.
Addressing the issue of minors revealing criminal acts, Halty’s approach demon-
strates the importance of ensuring the welfare of the child over strict adherence to
condentiality. She proposes a process of discussion and mediation, guiding the
minor toward disclosure of that information to the person in charge of the center.
Similarly, Atkinson-Sheppard, while working on the streets of Bangladesh, agreed
on a child protection policy with the NGO director, which involves mutual consulta-
tion and assistance when a child discloses a risk to themselves or others. These
cases underscore the complexity of working with minors and the importance of
prioritizing their safety.
However, it is crucial to understand the implications of cultural and geographical
context when dealing with these issues. Not every approach that works in the Global
North can be applicable in the Global South, due to potential lack of social services
or the risk that police involvement might pose to the child. As such, researchers
must adapt their red lines and responses to suit the specic contexts in which they
work. Furthermore, researchers must also establish boundaries unrelated to legal
issues, to preserve their objectivity and the validity of their work. Menih, for
instance, decided not to consume alcohol when offered, while Turner made it a
point not to interview individuals in extreme states of intoxication. These guidelines
are important to maintain the researcher’s professional conduct and to ensure reli-
able data collection. But the researcher must know when to intervene. For example,
in a case of severe ecstasy intoxication of one of the tourists, contrary to what the
girl’s friends said, Turner decided to call two doctors to help the tourist. And this
situation leads Turner to state that these red lines are an “issue that requires careful
consideration before starting the eldwork.
These examples show that establishing ethical boundaries is not a one-size-ts-
all process. Instead, it requires careful consideration of the specic research context
and participants involved. However, some common principles apply across different
scenarios, such as the need for clear communication about these red lines and the
informed consent process, a commitment to prioritize participants’ welfare, and a
readiness to act responsibly when these lines are crossed. Despite the complexities
and challenges, the ultimate aim is to ensure research integrity and respect for par-
ticipants’ rights and dignity.
4 Looking Forward: Lessons Learned
The wide range of experiences detailed in this book makes it challenging to extract
a singular set of lessons learned; indeed, it could be argued that this section on les-
sons learned reects the biases of the three editors who have penned them and may
be more a result of our own perceptions, needs, insecurities, and certainties when it
comes to eldwork. Regardless, it is crucial to conclude with the understanding that
A. M. Díaz-Fernández et al.
633
these lessons serve as reection points and potential avenues for improving research
in criminology and security studies.
The rst lesson we have drawn emphasizes the need for exibility in approach-
ing the eld. If any research topic can be erratic and unpredictable, this is especially
true for sensitive hard-to-reach groups. Consequently, we must prepare intensively
for the moment when the eld reveals all its facets and aspects of the problem and
be ready for surprises. Turner, for instance, shares his insights on which is the best
timing to ask participants about illegal drug use. The timing is not exact, so the
researcher’s most valuable tool is the ability to “read the dynamics of the situation
and instinctively know when it feels okay to ask these difcult questions.” Ingrascì
discusses “how to make this space rewarding without neglecting rigorous proce-
dures and overcoming the pitfalls that this eld of research produces by denition,
a feat achieved by “emphasizing transparency and reexivity as much as possible.”
Despite the long duration of eldwork on these topics, most of the investigations
included in this book limit contact with the participant to a single occasion. This
solitary instance, though unique, is the time from which we must extract as much
information as possible. Consequently, we may have a distorted perception of the
eld and believe we have broad knowledge when, in reality, we merely possess frag-
ments of numerous individuals’ lives and experiences. Therefore, preparing thor-
oughly and ensuring a good sample are essential tasks.
Second, the need for better training to manage the multitude of varied and intense
emotions generated in the eld is an aspect all researchers agree upon. Beyond hav-
ing a protocol provided by or developed in collaboration with the ethics committee,
it is essential to train doctoral students and early-career researchers, as pointed out
by Borges and Mattheis and corroborated by nearly all researchers. Mattheis even
mentions including a provision for “trauma counseling” in his recent grant applica-
tions. This focus should extend to often-overlooked roles, such as translators or
transcribers, who handle sensitive material alongside researchers.
Third, the positionality of the researcher and their relationship with the subject
under investigation is a signicant concern for researchers, especially given the lack
of information, training, and most importantly, reection. The sensitivity of certain
subjects, whether due to the vulnerability of the participants or the detestable nature
of their behavior, can make it challenging to identify our position during eldwork.
The diverse cultural schemas we have can cause certain situations and relationships
to carry different meanings. As Molnar and Vallés have suggested, we must “be self-
critical and question our own assumptions.” The concept of normality, for instance,
varies between a repentant maa woman and a street child working in an “illegal”
capacity. Both have worldviews that may not align with those of the researcher,
making it crucial to know where we stand.
Researcher activism is another important aspect. It is complex to enter these
elds, conduct research, and leave without aspiring to effect some change in the
unjust relations we have witnessed. Some researchers clearly state their stance
before entering the eld, while others advocate that the knowledge gained, despite
the associated emotional cost and hardship, should be used to better societal policies
regarding signicant social issues. The research eld often serves as a medium for
32 Conclusions: Deciphering the Unspoken: A Collective Examination of Sensitive…
634
the researcher to perceive unexplored human dimensions and reect on possible
courses of action. Therefore, it is essential to engage young researchers in conscious
reection on their approach to the subject of study, particularly the participatory
action research approach.
Fifth, data protection is another area requiring further improvement. Many
researchers have acknowledged that current data protection systems have weak-
nesses. Not all of us have the technical expertise to fully understand the intricacies
of the cloud where we store our data, the devices we connect it to, or what residual
data might remain on another system or cloud when we delete it. There have been
instances when we have retained data for future reference or situations when a
research fellow who had a copy of the database misplaced their computer or left the
research center without returning the data. Thus, it is critical that we continue to
improve on data encryption and de-anonymization, even during the research design
process. Furthermore, we need to identify the most reliable video conferencing sys-
tems, as not all countries offer the same level of security in communications.
Sixth, one promising direction for future research is the application or adaptation
of our current understanding of the digital world. What we have learned so far is that
while some topics can be addressed with minor adaptations, others require us to
learn from colleagues already exploring these areas, discussing their methodologi-
cal adaptations. Aspects like data ownership, the observer’s role, researcher safety,
and research rhythms still need careful deliberation. Mattheis aptly notes that the
protocols used in the so-called “real world” contexts may not have been fully
adapted for digital research, and researchers engaging in online studies may not
have received training on widely agreed ethical and safety protocols for their work.
Finally, more emphasis should be placed on exiting the eld. They can be emo-
tionally and logistically challenging, but proper preparation and adaptability are
necessary. We should honor our promises to participants and help them understand
the process that has aroused our scientic curiosity. Simple gestures such as sending
them summaries of the nal conclusions in clear language can be a way to recipro-
cate their time and attention. Or even producing an audio, or maybe a short video to
ease them the access to the conclusions. We, as researchers, are the only ones who
have a complete view of the whole research. We are the only ones who can give
coherence to what we heard and experienced; however, for the participants, the
transcribers, the translators, they will only have brushstrokes– sometimes painful
ones– and for which they cannot create a narrative that helps them to cope with the
potential emotional impact.
In sum, balancing methods, ethics, and emotions are indeed integral parts of
research, especially when investigating sensitive topics. Our interest in these topics
may stem from a desire to understand complex social problems and contribute
toward solutions. By sharing these experiences, we can foster collective learning
and improvement in our research practices. We hope that the experiences and
knowledge gained over the years by all the authors during their eldwork can be
invaluable not only for us, but also for other researchers navigating similar paths.
A. M. Díaz-Fernández et al.
635
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