ON TRICKY GROUND - Corwin · tuting, and redefining ourselves as peoples and communities in a state of ongoing crisis.Research is a site of contestation not simply at the level of

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ON TRICKY GROUNDResearching the Nativein the Age of Uncertainty

Linda Tuhiwai Smith

2 INTRODUCTION

In the spaces between research methodologies,ethical principles, institutional regulations, andhuman subjects as individuals and as sociallyorganized actors and communities is trickyground. The ground is tricky because it is compli-cated and changeable, and it is tricky also becauseit can play tricks on research and researchers.Qualitative researchers generally learn to recognizeand negotiate this ground in a number of ways,such as through their graduate studies, their acqui-sition of deep theoretical and methodologicalunderstandings, apprenticeships, experiences andpractices, conversations with colleagues, peerreviews, their teaching of others. The epistemo-logical challenges to research—to its paradigms,practices, and impacts—play a significant role inmaking those spaces richly nuanced in terms ofthe diverse interests that occupy such spaces andat the same time much more dangerous for theunsuspecting qualitative traveler. For it is not justthe noisy communities of difference “out there”in the margins of society who are moving intothe research domain with new methodologies,

epistemological approaches, and challenges to theway research is conducted. The neighbors aremisbehaving as well. The pursuit of new scientificand technological knowledge, with biomedicalresearch as a specific example, has presented newchallenges to our understandings of what is scien-tifically possible and ethically acceptable. The turnback to the modernist and imperialist discourse ofdiscovery, “hunting, racing, and gathering” acrossthe globe to map the human genome or curingdisease through the new science of genetic engi-neering, has an impact on the work of qualitativesocial science researchers. The discourse ofdiscovery speaks through globalization and themarketplace of knowledge. “Hunting, racing, andgathering” is without doubt about winning. Butwait—there is more. Also lurking around thecorners are countervailing conservative forces thatseek to disrupt any agenda of social justice thatmay form on such tricky ground. These forceshave little tolerance for public debate, have littlepatience for alternative views, and have no interestin qualitative richness or complexity. Rather, theyare nostalgic for a return to a research paradigmthat, like life in general, should be simple.

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It is often at the level of specific communities inthe margins of a society that these complex cur-rents intersect and are experienced. Some indige-nous communities are examples of groups thathave been historically vulnerable to research andremain vulnerable in many ways, but also havebeen able to resist as a group and to attempt toreshape and engage in research around their owninterests. This chapter applies indigenous per-spectives to examine the intersecting challenges ofmethodologies, ethics, institutions, and communi-ties. It is a chapter about arriving at and oftendeparting from commonly accepted understand-ings about the relationships between metho-dology, ethics, institutional demands, and thecommunities in which we live and with whom weresearch. Rather than a story of how complex theworld is and how powerless we are to change it,this chapter is framed within a sense of the possi-ble, of what indigenous communities have strug-gled for, have tried to assert and have achieved.

2 INDIGENOUS RESEARCH AND

THE SPACES FROM WHICH IT SPEAKS

Indigenous peoples can be defined as the assemblyof those who have witnessed, been excluded from,and have survived modernity and imperialism.They are peoples who have experienced the impe-rialism and colonialism of the modern historicalperiod beginning with the Enlightenment. Theyremain culturally distinct, some with their nativelanguages and belief systems still alive. They areminorities in territories and states over which theyonce held sovereignty. Some indigenous peoples dohold sovereignty, but of such small states that theywield little power over their own lives because theyare subject to the whims and anxieties of large andpowerful states. Some indigenous communitiessurvive outside their traditional lands because theywere forcibly removed from their lands and con-nections.They carry many names and labels, beingreferred to as natives, indigenous, autochthonous,tribal peoples, or ethnic minorities. Many indige-nous peoples come together at regional and inter-national levels to argue for rights and recognition.

In some countries, such as China, there are manydifferent indigenous groups and languages. Inother places, such as New Zealand, there is oneindigenous group, known as Mâori, with onecommon language but multiple ways of definingthemselves.

There are, of course, other definitions of indige-nous or native peoples, stemming in part frominternational agreements and understandings,national laws and regulations, popular discourses,and the self-defining identities of the peoples whohave been colonized and oppressed (Burger, 1987;Pritchard, 1998; Wilmer, 1993). The category of thenative Other is one that Fanon (1961/1963) andMemmi (1957/1967) have argued is implicated inthe same category as the settler and the colonizer.As opposing identities, they constitute each otheras much as they constitute themselves. Rey Chow(1993) reminds us, however, that the native didexist before the “gaze” of the settler and before theimage of “native” came to be constituted by impe-rialism, and that the native does have an existenceoutside and predating the settler/native identity.Chow (1993) refers to the “fascination” with thenative as a “labor with endangered authenticities.”The identity of “the native” is regarded as compli-cated, ambiguous, and therefore troubling even forthose who live the realities and contradictions ofbeing native and of being a member of a colonizedand minority community that still remembersother ways of being, of knowing, and of relating tothe world. What is troubling to the dominant cul-tural group about the definition of “native” is notwhat necessarily troubles the “native” community.The desires for “pure,” uncontaminated, andsimple definitions of the native by the settler isoften a desire to continue to know and define theOther, whereas the desires by the native to be self-defining and self-naming can be read as a desire tobe free, to escape definition, to be complicated, todevelop and change, and to be regarded as fullyhuman. In between such desires are multiple andshifting identities and hybridities with much morenuanced positions about what constitutes nativeidentities, native communities, and native knowl-edge in anti/postcolonial times. There are alsothe not-insignificant matters of disproportionately

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high levels of poverty and underdevelopment, highlevels of sickness and early death from preventableillnesses, disproportionate levels of incarceration,and other indices of social marginalization experi-enced by most indigenous communities.

There are some cautionary notes to these defi-nitions, as native communities are not homoge-neous, do not agree on the same issues and do notlive in splendid isolation from the world. Thereare internal relations of power, as in any society,that exclude, marginalize, and silence some whileempowering others. Issues of gender, economicclass, age, language, and religion are also strug-gled over in contemporary indigenous communi-ties. There are native indigenous communitiesin the developed and in the developing world, andalthough material conditions even for those wholive in rich countries are often horrendous, peoplein those countries are still better off than thosein developing countries. There are, however, stillmany native and indigenous families and com-munities who possess the ancient memories ofanother way of knowing that informs many oftheir contemporary practices. When the founda-tions of those memories are disturbed, spacesometimes is created for alternative imaginings tobe voiced, to be sung, and to be heard (again).

The genealogy of indigenous approaches toresearch and the fact that they can be reviewed inthis chapter is important because they have notsimply appeared overnight, nor do they exist—aswith other critical research approaches—withouta politics of support around them or a history ofideas. This chapter speaks from particular histor-ical, political, and moral spaces, along with a setof relationships and connections between indige-nous aspirations, political activism, scholarship,and other social justice movements and scholarlywork. Indigenous communities and researchersfrom different parts of the globe have long andoften voiced concern about the “problem ofresearch” and represented themselves to beamong the “most researched” peoples of theworld. The critique of research came to be voicedin the public domain in the 1970s, when indige-nous political activism was also reasserting itself(Eidheim, 1997; Humphery, 2000; Langton, 1981;

L. T. Smith, 1999). The history of research frommany indigenous perspectives is so deeplyembedded in colonization that it has beenregarded as a tool only of colonization and not asa potential tool for self-determination and devel-opment. For indigenous peoples, research has asignificance that is embedded in our history asnatives under the gaze of Western science andcolonialism. It is framed by indigenous attemptsto escape the penetration and surveillance of thatgaze while simultaneously reordering, reconsti-tuting, and redefining ourselves as peoples andcommunities in a state of ongoing crisis. Researchis a site of contestation not simply at the levelof epistemology or methodology but also in itsbroadest sense as an organized scholarly activitythat is deeply connected to power. That resistanceto research, however, is changing ever so slightlyas more indigenous and minority scholars haveengaged in research methodologies and debatesabout research with communities (Bishop, 1998;Cram, Keefe, Ormsby, & Ormsby, 1998; Humphery,2000; Pidgeon & Hardy, 2002; Smith, 1985; Worby& Rigney, 2002). It is also changing as indigenouscommunities and nations have mobilized inter-nationally and have engaged with issues related toglobalization, education systems, sovereignty, andthe development of new technologies.

Indigenous peoples are used to being studiedby outsiders; indeed, many of the basic disciplinesof knowledge are implicated in studying the Otherand creating expert knowledge of the Other (HeluThaman, 2003; Said, 1978; Minh-ha, 1989; Vidich& Lyman, 2000). More recently, however, indige-nous researchers have been active in seeking waysto disrupt the “history of exploitation, suspicion,misunderstanding, and prejudice” of indigenouspeoples in order to develop methodologies andapproaches to research that privilege indigenousknowledges, voices, experiences, reflections, andanalyses of their social, material, and spiritualconditions (Rigney, 1999, p. 117). This shift inposition, from seeing ourselves as passive victimsof all research to seeing ourselves as activistsengaging in a counterhegemonic struggle overresearch, is significant. The story of that progres-sion has been told elsewhere in more depth and is

Smith: Researching the Native Mâori–2–87



not unique to indigenous peoples; women, gayand lesbian communities, ethnic minorities, andother marginalized communities have madesimilar journeys of critical discovery of the role ofresearch in their lives (Hill Collins, 1991; Ladson-Billings, 2000; Mies, 1983; Moraga & Anzaldaua,1983; Sedgwick, 1991). There have been multiplechallenges to the epistemic basis of the dominantscientific paradigm of research, and these haveled to the development of approaches that haveoffered a promise of counterhegemonic work.Some broad examples of these include oralhistory as stories of the working class, the range offeminist methodologies in both quantitative andqualitative research, the development of culturaland anti/postcolonial studies, critical race theory,and other critical approaches within disciplines(Beverley, 2000; Ladson-Billings, 2000; McLaren,1993; Mohanty, 1984; Reinharz, 1992; Spivak,1987; Stanley & Wise, 1983). Critical theoristshave held out the hope that research could leadto emancipation and social justice for oppressedgroups if research understood and addressedunequal relations of power. Feminism has chal-lenged the deep patriarchy of Western knowledgeand opened up new spaces for the examinationof epistemological difference. Third World women,African American women, black women, Chicanas,and other minority group women have addedimmensely to our understandings of the inter-sections of gender, race, class, and imperialismand have attempted to describe what thatmeans for themselves as researchers choosingto research in the margins (Aldama, 2001;Elabor-Idemudia, 2002; Hill Collins, 1991;Ladson-Billings, 2000; Mohanty, 1984; Moraga &Anzaldua, 1983; Te Awekotuku, 1999). Indige-nous women have played important roles inexploring the intersections of gender, race,class, and difference through the lens of nativepeople and against the frame of colonizationand oppression (K. Anderson, 2000; Maracle,1996; Moreton-Robinson, 2000; L. T. Smith, 1992;Te Awekotuku, 1991; Trask, 1986).

The decolonization project in research engagesin multiple layers of struggle across multiple sites.It involves the unmasking and deconstruction of

imperialism, and its aspect of colonialism, in itsold and new formations alongside a search forsovereignty; for reclamation of knowledge,language, and culture; and for the social transfor-mation of the colonial relations between the nativeand the settler. It has been argued elsewhere thatindigenous research needs an agenda that situatesapproaches and programs of research in the decol-onization politics of the indigenous peoples move-ment (L. T. Smith, 1999). I would emphasize theimportance of retaining the connections betweenthe academy of researchers, the diverse indigenouscommunities, and the larger political struggle ofdecolonization because the disconnection of thatrelationship reinforces the colonial approach toeducation as divisive and destructive. This is not tosuggest that such a relationship is, has been, or everwill be harmonious and idyllic; rather, it suggeststhat the connections, for all their turbulence, offerthe best possibility for a transformative agendathat moves indigenous communities to someplacebetter than where they are now. Research is not justa highly moral and civilized search for knowledge;it is a set of very human activities that reproduceparticular social relations of power. Decolonizingresearch, then, is not simply about challenging ormaking refinements to qualitative research. It is amuch broader but still purposeful agenda fortransforming the institution of research, the deepunderlying structures and taken-for-granted waysof organizing, conducting, and disseminatingresearch and knowledge. To borrow from EdwardSaid (1978), research can also be described as “acorporate institution” that has made statementsabout indigenous peoples, “authorising views” ofus, “describing [us], teaching about [us], settling[us] and ruling over [us].” It is the corporate insti-tution of research, as well as the epistemologicalfoundations from which it springs, that needs to bedecolonized.

I name this research methodology asIndigenist.

—Lester Rigney (1999, p. 118)

Becoming an indigenous researcher is some-what like Maxine Green’s (2002) description of


how artists from the margins come to re-imaginepublic spaces. “Through resistance in the courseof their becoming—through naming what stoodin their way, through coming together in efforts toovercome—people are likely to find out the kindsof selves they are creating” (p. 301). Indigenousresearchers are “becoming” a research commu-nity. They have connected with each other acrossborders and have sought dialogue and conversa-tions with each other. They write in ways thatdeeply resonate shared histories and struggles.They also write about what indigenous researchought to be. Australian Aborigine scholar LesterRigney (1999), emphasizing Ward Churchill’s(1993) earlier declarations of indigenist position-ing, has argued for an indigenist approach toresearch that is formed around the three princi-ples of resistance, political integrity, and privileg-ing indigenous voices. He, like other indigenousresearchers, connects research to liberation and tothe history of oppression and racism. Rigneyargues that research must serve and inform thepolitical liberation struggle of indigenouspeoples. It is also a struggle for development, forrebuilding leadership and governance structures,for strengthening social and cultural institu-tions, for protecting and restoring environments,and for revitalizing language and culture. Some

indigenous writers would argue that indigenousresearch is research that is carried out by indige-nous researchers with indigenous communitiesfor indigenous communities (Cram, 2001; Rigney,1999). Implicit in such a definition is that indige-nous researchers are committed to a platform forchanging the status quo and see the engagementby indigenous researchers as an important leverfor transforming institutions, communities, andsociety. Other writers state that purpose moreexplicitly in that they define indigenous researchas being a transformative project that is active inpursuit of social and institutional change, thatmakes space for indigenous knowledge, and thathas a critical view of power relations and inequal-ity (Bishop, 1998; Brady, 1999; Pihama, 2001;L. T. Smith, 1991). Others emphasize the criticalrole of research in enabling peoples and com-munities to reclaim and tell their stories in theirown ways and to give testimonio to their collec-tive herstories and struggles (Battiste, 2000;Beverley, 2000; The Latina Feminist Group, 2001).Embedded in these stories are the ways ofknowing, deep metaphors, and motivationaldrivers that inspire the transformative praxisthat many indigenous researchers identify as apowerful agent for resistance and change. Theseapproaches connect and draw from indigenous


• Foundations, genealogies, and disciplines of knowledge that define its methodologies and its systems ofclassification and representation

• Historical embeddedness in imperialism, the production of knowledge, and the development of science

• Cultures and subcultures of its institutions and infrastructures

• Communities of like-minded or trained scholars, disciplinary bodies, and research associations

• Ways in which research is regulated and inscribed through notions of ethics, ethical review boards, andcodes of conduct

• Practices of reporting and publishing

• National and international funding agencies and their links to particular agendas

• Ways in which some forms of research legitimate dominant forms of knowledge and maintain hegemony ordominant myths

• Chain and distribution of benefits from research

• Intersection of research with policy and the design and implementation of interventions

Table 4.1. Corporate Layers of Research


knowledge and privilege indigenous pedagogiesin their practices, relationships, and methodolo-gies. Most indigenous researchers would claimthat their research validates an ethical and cultur-ally defined approach that enables indigenouscommunities to theorize their own lives and thatconnects their past histories with their futurelives (Marker, 2003). Indigenous approachesare also mindful of and sensitive to the audiencesof research and therefore of the accountabilitiesof researchers as storytellers, documenters ofculture, and witnesses of the realities of indige-nous lives, of their ceremonies, their aspira-tions, their incarcerations, their deaths. (Pihama,1994; Steinhauer, 2003; Te Hennepe, 1993;Warrior, 1995).

In New Zealand, Mâori scholars have coinedtheir research approach as Kaupapa Mâori orMâori research rather than employing the term“indigenist.” There are strong reasons for such anaming, as the struggle has been seen as one overMâori language and the ability by Mâori as Mâorito name the world, to theorize the world, and toresearch back to power. The genealogy of indige-nous research for Mâori has one of its beginningsin the development of alternative Mâori immer-sion-based schooling (Pihama, Cram, & Walker,2002; G. H. Smith, 1990; L. T. Smith, 2000). GrahamSmith (1990) has argued that the struggle todevelop alternative schools known as KuraKaupapa Mâori helped produce a series of edu-cational strategies that engaged with multiplelevels of colonization and social inequality. Thesestrategies included engagement with theory andresearch in new ways. Kaupapa Mâori researchhas developed its own life, and as an approachor theory of research methodology, it has beenapplied across different disciplinary fields, includ-ing the sciences. It can be argued that researcherswho employ a Kaupapa Mâori approach areemploying quite consciously a set of arguments,principles, and frameworks that relate to thepurpose, ethics, analyses, and outcomes of research(Bishop & Glynn,1999; Durie,1992; Johnston,2003;Pihama, 1993; L. T. Smith, 1991; Tomlins-Jahnke,1997).It is a particular approach that sets out to makea positive difference for Mâori, that incorporates a

model of social change or transformation, thatprivileges Mâori knowledge and ways of being, thatsees the engagement in theory as well as empiricalresearch as a significant task, and that sets out aframework for organizing, conducting, and evaluat-ing Mâori research (Jahnke & Taiapa, 1999; Pihamaet al., 2002). It is also an approach that is active inbuilding capacity and research infrastructure inorder to sustain a sovereign research agenda thatsupports community aspirations and development(L. T. Smith, 1999). Those who work within thisapproach would argue that Kaupapa Mâoriresearch comes out of the practices, value systems,and social relations that are evident in the taken-for-granted ways that Mâori people live their lives.

Indigenist research also includes a critique ofthe “rules of practice” regarding research, the wayresearch projects are funded, and the develop-ment of strategies that address community con-cerns about the assumptions, ethics, purposes,procedures, and outcomes of research. Thesestrategies often have led to innovative researchquestions, new methodologies, new researchrelationships, deep analyses of the researcher incontext, and analyses, interpretations, and themaking of meanings that have been enriched byindigenous concepts and language. To an extent,these strategies have encouraged nonindigenousresearchers into a dialogue about research and, onoccasion, to a reformulated and more construc-tive and collaborative research relationship withindigenous communities (Cram, 1997; Haig-Brown & Archibald, 1996; Simon & Smith, 2001;G. H. Smith, 1992). Critical and social justiceapproaches to qualitative research have providedacademic space for much of the early work ofindigenous research. Denzin and Lincoln (2000)describe a moment in the history of qualitativeresearch (1970–1986) as the moment of “blurredgenres” when local knowledge and lived realitiesbecame important, when a diversity of paradigmsand methods developed, and when a theoreticaland methodological blurring across boundariesoccurred. Arguably, an indigenist research voiceemerged in that blurred and liminal space as itparalleled the rise in indigenous political activism,especially in places like Australia, New Zealand,



Norway, and North America. For indigenousactivists, this moment was also one of recognitionthat decolonization needed a positive and moreinclusive social vision and needed more toolsfor development and self-determination (as analternative to violent campaigns of resistance).Research, like schooling, once the tool of coloni-zation and oppression, is very gradually comingto be seen as a potential means to reclaim lan-guages, histories, and knowledge, to find solu-tions to the negative impacts of colonialism andto give voice to an alternative way of knowing andof being. Indigenous research focuses and situatesthe broader indigenous agenda in the researchdomain. This domain is dominated by a history,by institutional practices, and by particular para-digms and approaches to research held by aca-demic communities and disciplines. The spaceswithin the research domain through which indi-genous research can operate are small spaces ona shifting ground. Negotiating and transform-ing institutional practices and research frame-works is as significant as the carrying out ofactual research programs. This makes indigenousresearch a highly political activity that can beperceived as threatening, destabilizing, and privi-leging of indigeneity over the interests and expe-riences of other diverse groups. Decolonization ispolitical and disruptive even when the strategiesemployed are pacifist because anything thatrequires a major change of worldview, that forcesa society to confront its past and address it at astructural and institutional level that challengesthe systems of power, is indeed political. Indige-nous research presents a challenge to the corporateinstitution of research to change its worldview, toconfront its past and make changes.

Indigenous research approaches, like feministmethodologies, have not emerged into a neutralcontext, although their arrival has been predictedby those working with silenced and marginalizedcommunities. As Lincoln (1993) forewarned, how-ever, social sciences cannot simply develop grandnarratives of the silenced without including thevoices and understandings of marginalized andsilenced communities.There continues to be vigor-ous critique of indigenous approaches and claims

to knowledge, and, indeed, the indigenous presencein the academy. In some cases, this critique isframed by the discourses of anti–affirmativeaction, such as calls for “color- and race-free” poli-cies. In other cases, the critique is a very focusedattack on the possibility that indigenous peoplehave a knowledge that can be differentiated fromdogma and witchcraft or is a very focused andpersonal attack on an individual (Trask, 1993). Inother examples, the critique does reflect attemptsby nonindigenous scholars to engage seriouslywith indigenous scholarship and understand itsimplications for the practices of nonindigenousscholars and their disciplines. In a limited sense,there has been an attempt at dialogue betweenindigenous and nonindigenous scholars, usuallyoccurring after indigenous scholars have provideda critique of the discipline—for example VineDeloria’s (1995) critique of anthropology andNgugi wa Thiong’o’s (1981/1987) critique of whatcounted as African literature. Kenyan writer Ngugiwa Thiong’o viewed the language of the settler/colonizer as being implicated in the “colonizationof the mind” and came to the decision that hewould not write in the language of the colonizerbut instead would write in his own language ofGikuyu or Ki-Swahili. Ngugi’s stance helped createfurther space debate about “postcolonial” literatureand the role of literature in colonial educationsystems (Ashcroft, Griffiths, & Tiffin, 1989). VineDeloria’s sustained political critique of the place ofthe American Indian in the American system hascreated space for the further development ofAmerican Indian Studies and a dialogue with otherdisciplines (Biolsi & Zimmerman, 1997). Unfortu-nately, dialogue is often the solution to fracturescreated through lack of dialogue between thosewith power and marginalized groups. Similardebates have occurred and continue to occur inother fields, including literature (Cook-Lynn, 1996;Harjo & Bird,1997; Womack,1999), feminist studies(Maracle,1996; Moraga & Anzaldua,1983; Moreton-Robinson,2000),and multicultural and ethnic stud-ies (Mihesuah, 1998). Some debates are very publicmedia campaigns that invoke the prejudices andattitudes toward indigenous peoples held by thedominant social group.1 In some of these campaigns,



the ethnicity of the dominant group is maskedbehind such social categories as “the public,” “thetaxpayers,”or “the rest of society.”The fears and atti-tudes of the dominant social group, and of otherminority social groups,are employed quite purpose-fully in public debates about indigenous knowledgeas the arbiters of what indigenous people are per-mitted to do, of what they are allowed to know, andindeed of who they are.

An important task of indigenous research in“becoming” a community of researchers is aboutcapacity building, developing and mentoringresearchers, and creating the space and support fornew approaches to research and new examinationsof indigenous knowledge. That activity can now beseen in a range of strategies that are being appliedby diverse communities across the world to buildresearch capability. Conversations about indige-nous methodologies—albeit in different historical,disciplinary, and institutional spaces—are beingdiscussed and applied by a diverse range of indige-nous scholars across the globe. These include Samischolars in northern Norway, Finland, Sweden, andRussia (Keskitalo, 1997) and native scholars in thePacific Islands (Helu Thaman, 2003; Kaomea,2003). Sami literary scholar Harald Gaski (1997),for example, argues that “Ever since the world’s var-ious indigenous peoples began turning their effortsto co-operative endeavours in the 1970s, the Samihave participated actively in the struggle to make

these peoples’ and their own voice heard. Art andliterature have always played an important role inthis endeavour. Therefore, the time for Sami litera-ture to join world literature is past due” (p. 6). JanHenri Keskitalo (1997) points to a research agendafor Sami people that is “based on the freedom todefine, initiate and organize research, and the pos-sibility to prioritise what kind of research should bedefined as Sami research,at least when using publicfunding” (p. 169). All these discussions representcross-border conversations and activism, as theterritorial boundaries of many indigenous commu-nities have been intersected and overlaid by the for-mation of modern states. Some discussions occurthrough specific indigenous forums, or throughfeminist or environmentalist networks, and othersoccur through the diaspora of the Third World,the “developing world,” and regional gatherings(Alexander & Mohanty,1997; Saunders,2002; Shiva,1993; Spivak, 1987).

Researching the Nativein the Knowledge Economy

Knowledge is a key commodity in the 21st cen-tury. We understand this at a commonsense levelsimply as an effect of living in the era of global-ization, although it is also expressed as the conse-quences of life in the postindustrial age, the age ofinformation and postmodernity. Knowledge as a


• The training of indigenous people as researchers

• The employment of indigenous people as researchers

• Participation by indigenous people in a wide range of research projects employing different kinds ofapproaches and methodologies

• The generating of research questions by communities

• Developing indigenous research methodologies

• Developing research protocols for working with communities

• The support by various individuals and communities of research-based decision making

• The establishment of indigenous research organizations

• Presentation of their research by indigenous researchers to other indigenous researchers

• Engagements and dialogue between indigenous and nonindigenous researchers and communities

Table 4.2. Strategies for Building Indigenous Research Capability


commodity is a conception of knowledge (andcurriculum) that is situated in the intersection ofdifferent visions of and alliances for globalization(Peters, 2003). Michael Apple (2001) refers to thisalliance as one that brings together neoliberals,neoconservatives, authoritarian populists, andthe new middle class.Apple defines neoliberals asthose who are “deeply committed to markets andto freedom as ‘individual choice,’” neoconserva-tives as ones who “want a return to discipline andtraditional knowledge,” authoritarian populists asones who “want a return to (their) God in all ofour institutions” (p. 11), and the new middle classas those who have created and stand to benefitmost from this configuration of interests. Theneoliberal economic vision of globalization is onein which the market shapes and determines most,if not all, human activities. Far from being simplyan economic theory, neoliberal proponents haveused their access to power to attempt to reformall aspects of society, including the relationshipsbetween the state and society. New Zealand isoften used as a model, the “experiment” for howfar this agenda can be pursued, because of thesignificant neoliberal reforms undertaken overthe last 20 years (Kelsey, 1995). The reforms haveincluded a “hollowing out” of the state; the reformand re-regulation of the welfare system—educa-tion, health, banking, and finance; and theremoval of tariffs and other barriers to free trade(Moran, 1999). The reforms have been supportedby a powerful ideological apparatus that hasdenied empirical evidence that groups were beingmarginalized further by policies and that the gapsbetween the rich and poor, the well and the sick,were widening under the reform regime. Thisideological apparatus is most visible in its discur-sive strategies with rhetoric and slogans such as“user pays,” privatization, increased competition,freedom of choice, and voucher education. It isalso evident in the construction of new, idealizedneoliberal subjects who are supposed to be “self-regulating selective choosers, highly competitiveand autonomous individuals liberated from theirlocations in history, the economy, culture andcommunity in order to become consumers in aglobal market”(L. T. Smith et al., 2002, p. 170).

The significance of the neoliberal agendafor social science research is that the “social,”the “science,” and the “research” have also beenre-envisioned and re-regulated according to theneoliberal ideologies. One site where this re-envisioning and re-regulation of the social, thescience, and the research intersects is in the econ-omy of knowledge. As with other strategies ofpower, it is often the marginalized and silencedcommunities of society who experience the bruntand the cruelty of both the slogans and the mater-ial changes in their lives. The “knowledge econ-omy” is a term used by businesspeople such asThomas Stewart (1997) to define the ways inwhich changes in technology such as the Internet,the removal of barriers to travel and trade, and theshift to a postindustrial economy have createdconditions in which the knowledge content of allgoods and services will underpin wealth creationand determine competitive advantage. As a com-modity, knowledge is produced under capitalistlabor market conditions: it can be bought andsold, and it is private rather than public property.Researchers are knowledge workers who producenew knowledge. In this environment, new andunique knowledge products become highly prizedobjects of capitalist desire. Mapping the humangenome and searching for cures to various diseasesthat will require the manufacturing of specialproducts are just two examples of the “race”now onfor “knowledge,” the new El Dorado. Now, wherecan one discover new knowledge that is not alreadyunder private ownership? The laboratories? Therain forests? The human body? The knowledge andpractices of those who have maintained theirunique ways of living? The answer to all the aboveis “Yes,” and there is more. Indigenous knowledgeonce denied by science as irrational and dogmaticis one of those new frontiers of knowledge. Theefforts by indigenous peoples to reclaim and pro-tect their traditional knowledge now coincides andconverges with scientific interests in discoveringhow that knowledge can offer new possibilities fordiscovery (Stewart-Harawira, 1999).

One convergence of indigenous knowledge andscience is in the field of ethnobotany, a field thathas botanists and biologists working closely with



indigenous communities in the collection anddocumentation of plants, medicinal remedies, andother practices. In doing science, ethnobotanistsare also doing qualitative research, talking to com-munity experts, observing practices, and develop-ing word banks and other resources. The protocolsthat have been developed by the InternationalSociety of Ethnobotany will be discussed againlater in this chapter. One use of the research that itsmembers gather lies in the identification of medi-cinal properties that can be reproduced in thelaboratory and developed for commercialization.The pharmaceutical industry has a keen hungerfor such research, and there is real intensity in thehunt for new miracles to cure or alleviate both oldand modern diseases. The search for new knowl-edge knows no borders. It is competitive andexpensive, and only a few can participate. In thebiomedical field, the rapid advances in knowledgeand technology—for example, in reproductivebirth technologies and in genetic engineering—present new challenges to what society thinks isethically acceptable. Issues raised in relation tocloning a human being, new genetic therapies, andother remedies and practices stretch our under-standings of what life is about. Although thescience can develop the new knowledge, it isthe social science that has an understanding of thenature of social change. Scientists, however, canalso be powerful advocates of their own discoveriesand fields of research, such that institutions andindustries “buy into” the promise of new technolo-gies and expect society to “catch up” to the ethicalimplications of the new knowledge. For qualitativeresearch, new technologies present new vistas in asense,new attitudes to examine and new dilemmasto resolve. For indigenous and other marginalizedcommunities, the new vistas present new threatsand risks in terms of their ability to protect theirtraditional knowledge and the likelihood of thebenefits of research being distributed equitably tothe poor rather than to the rich.

As Apple (2001) reminds, us, however, theneoliberal agenda also converges with the counter-vailing neoconservative and authoritarian tenden-cies that seek to protect and strengthen certain“traditional” forms of privilege. The “traditional”

values and forms of knowledge being reified bythese interest groups are not the same traditionalvalues and ways of knowing that indigenouspeoples speak of but are in fact the very antithesisof any form of non-Western, nonheterosexual,nonfeminist knowledge. Graham HingangaroaSmith (1994) argues that there new types of colo-nization in the neoliberal version of globalizationthat enable dominant interests in society to bemaintained. Smith (1994) further contends thatin the global marketplace, where everything can becommodified, local communities, cultures, prac-tices, and values are put at accelerated risk, withlittle room to maneuver or develop resistance. Oneanalogy of how the global marketplace works toput local communities and knowledge at risk is theimpact of the large multinational or national com-pany that sets up its store or its mall in a town thathas small and struggling businesses. There arepowerful driving forces that shape the ways inwhich individual interests come to be eitheraligned with or marginalized from the new devel-opment. For example, some people may needemployment and others may need access tocheaper products; some people need to retain theirbusinesses or see their community as beingdefined by “Main Street,”not the Mall.Young peoplemay see the Mall as presenting new social possi-bilities that would cater more to their tastes byproviding access to more global brands. In the end,the community becomes divided by economicinterests, although all may ultimately wish for aunited community. In the end, the Mall wins: Thesmall businesses either collapse or struggle on;Main Street looks even more depressing, drivingmore people to the Mall; and everyone in townbegins wearing the global brands, just like thepeople on television and the people who live in thenext community, the next state, the next country.Local products, if they are made, find their way to aboot sale or a market day, basically consigned tothe margins of the economy and community con-sciousness. Some local or native products areselected as marketable in the Mall, such as nativemedicine wheels and small hanging crystals. Theseproducts are not produced locally, because thatwould cost too much, so the image is reproduced at



a cheaper price in countries with poor labor marketconditions and then sold in every Mall in the world.Imagine this as a global process having an impactin every little community of the world. It is a veryseductive process, but something gets lost, in thisprocess, for the community. For indigenous com-munities, the “something lost” has been defined asindigenous knowledge and culture. In biologicalterms, the “something lost” is our diversity; insociolinguistics, it is the diversity of minoritylanguages; culturally, it is our uniqueness of storiesand experiences and how they are expressed. Theseare the “endangered authenticities” of which ReyChow (1993) speaks, ones that are being erasedthrough the homogenization of culture.

The knowledge economy, as one theme of glob-alization, constitutes the new identities of the self-regulating and selective chooser, the consumer ofknowledge products, the knowledge worker andknowledge manager, and the clients of knowledgeorganizations. McLaren (1993) calls these marketidentities that reflect the corporate model of mar-ket education and educational consumption. Onemight think that this makes for a very educatedand knowledgeable society—not so. The knowl-edge economy is about creating and processingknowledge, trading and using knowledge for com-petitive advantage—it is not about knowing orknowledge for its own sake, it is not about the pur-suit of knowledge but about “creating” knowledgeby turning knowledge into a commodity or prod-uct. Research plays an important role in the cre-ation of knowledge and, as argued by StevenJordan (2003) in an article he entitled “Who stolemy methodology?,” even the most participatoryresearch models are being subjected to theprocesses of commodification “for the purposes ofsupporting and reproducing the social relationsof accumulation in their multifarious forms”(p. 195). Jordan further suggests that the method-ology of participatory research is being appropri-ated and reconstituted by neoliberal discourses ofparticipation “in ways that are antithetical to bothits founding principles and traditions” (p. 195).

The neoliberal version of globalization is not,however, the only ideology at work across theglobe. There are other interests at work, some

repressive and others progressive. Trafficking indrugs and people, catering to pedophilia, and otherorganized criminal activities also have gone global.More recently, global terrorism (recognizing thatsome communities have been terrorized for hun-dreds of years by various forms of colonialism) hasheightened the impulses and fears of neoconserva-tives and authoritarian populists and simultane-ously has created threats to the free operations ofthe global marketplace. The powerful nostalgia ofneoconservatives and authoritarian populists for acurriculum of the right (Apple,2001),a curriculumof simple “facts,” and a reification of what Denzin(1991) refers to as “ancient narratives”augurs dan-gers for education, for educational research, and forany social justice research. Neoconservative andauthoritarian interest groups seek to disrupt anyagenda for social justice and already have beeneffective in peeling back gains in social justice pro-grams, although Roman and Eyre (1997) cautionus to see the dangers of “applying “backlash”exclu-sively to Right-wing political reactions [that] failto draw attention to reactionary and defensivepolitics within and across left-wing/progressivegroups—whether feminist, critical multicultural/anti-racist, or anti-heterosexist” (p. 3). The neolib-eral agenda crosses the left and right of the politi-cal spectrum, and to some extent the fellowtravelers of neoliberalism manage to infiltrate awide spectrum of politics.

Other, more progressive groups also have man-aged to go global and make use of knowledge inthe pursuit of a social justice agenda. Nongovern-mental organizations and communities of interesthave managed to put up resistance to the powerfulinterests of wealthy nations and corporations.Some of these coalitions have brought togetherdiverse interests and unusual bedfellows to contestfree trade; others have organized important con-sciousness-raising activities to keep informationabout injustice in the public eye. Small communi-ties still cling to their own schools and identities asthey attempt to build democratic community con-sensus. One of the perspectives that indigenousresearch brings to an understanding of thismoment in the history of globalization is that it issimply another historical moment (one of many



that indigenous communities have survived) thatreinscribes imperialism with new versions of oldcolonialisms. This is not as cynical as it may sound;rather, it comes from the wisdom of survival on themargins. This moment can be analyzed, under-stood, and disrupted by holding onto and rearticu-lating an alternative vision of life and society. It isalso not the only defining moment: Other changeshave occurred that make communities somewhatmore prepared to act or resist. For example, moreindigenous researchers are choosing to researchalongside their own communities. There are moreallies. There also are other imperatives that havedriven an agenda of transformation, among themas language regeneration. Language regenerationprograms have created a momentum, especially inNew Zealand,that neoliberal reforms have not beenable or willing to subvert, as these programs have astrong hold on the community’s aspirations.Indigenous development is optimistic despite whatoften appear to be huge barriers.

The new subjectivities of the free marketand the knowledge economy also include there-envisioning and re-regulation of new nativesubjects, a reworked Other, still raced and gen-dered, idealized and demonized, but now in pos-session of “market potential.” Some of these newsubjectivities resonate with the global market,where evoking of “the image” is a powerful mech-anism for distancing the material conditions ofthe people from the image itself. Other subjec-tivities are “turning the gaze” back onto the dom-inant settler society, reflecting the momentumof political, educational, and economic changethat already has occurred in many indigenouscommunities. These identities are formed “intranslation,” in the constant negotiation for mean-ing in a changing context. New identities formand re-form in response to or as a consequence ofother changes and other identities. New voices areexpressed, new leaders emerge, new organizationsform, and new narratives of identity get told.

One newly worked native identity is that of thenative intellectual as scientist. This is a small,emerging group of native scientists with strongconnections to their native knowledge and prac-tices. These scientists represent a new type of

translator or interlocutor, one who bridges differentknowledge traditions in ways that Western scien-tists find difficult to dismiss and indigenouscommunities find acceptable (Little Bear, 2000;Thomas, 2001). The native scientist not only is thenative healer, herbalist, or spiritual expert but alsois someone who understands the philosophies,knowledge, and histories that underpin culturalpractices and beliefs and who generates his or herscience from these foundations. As Basso (1996)and Marker (2003) have suggested, these peopleare not in the academy to “play word and ideagames” but intend to contribute to change for thebenefit of communities, to ensure that sciencelistens to, acknowledge, and benefits indigenouscommunities. The role of these indigenous pro-fessionals is similar to the role played by the firstgeneration of indigenous teachers and nurses andby the first generation of medical doctors andsocial workers in native communities, a difficultrole of translating, mediating, and negotiatingvalues, beliefs, and practices from differentworldviews in difficult political contexts.

2 ETHICS AND RESEARCH

One area of research being vigorously contested byindigenous communities is that of research ethicsand the definitions and practices that exem-plify ethical and respectful research. Indigenousresearchers often situate discussions about ethicsin the context of indigenous knowledge and valuesand in the context of imperialism, colonialism, andracism. (Cram, 1993; 2001; Menzies, 2001; Rigney,1999). Indigenous understandings of researchethics have often been informed by indigenousscholars’ broad experience of research and otherinteractions with the media, health system, muse-ums, schools, and government agencies. Increas-ingly, however, research ethics has come to be afocus of indigenous efforts to transform researchand institutions (Worby & Rigney, 2002). Researchethics is often much more about institutional andprofessional regulations and codes of conduct thanit is about the needs, aspirations, or worldviewsof “marginalized and vulnerable” communities.



Institutions are bound by ethical regulationsdesigned to govern conduct within well-definedprinciples that have been embedded in interna-tional agreements and national laws. The Nurem-berg Code (1949) was the first major internationalexpression of principles that set out to protect therights of people from research abuse, but there areother significant agreements, such as the WorldMedical Association Declaration of HelsinkiAgreement of 1964 and the Belmont Report of1979. National jurisdictions and professional soci-eties have their own regulations that govern ethicalconduct of research with human subjects. Increas-ingly, the challenges of new biotechnologies—forexample, new birth technologies, genetic engi-neering, and issues related to cloning—also havegiven rise to ethical concerns, reviews, and revisedguidelines.

For indigenous and other marginalized com-munities, research ethics is at a very basic levelabout establishing, maintaining, and nurturingreciprocal and respectful relationships, not justamong people as individuals but also with peopleas individuals, as collectives, and as members ofcommunities, and with humans who live in andwith other entities in the environment. The abili-ties to enter preexisting relationships; to build,maintain, and nurture relationships; and tostrengthen connectivity are important researchskills in the indigenous arena. They require criticalsensitivity and reciprocity of spirit by a researcher.Bishop (1998) refers to an example of relationshipbuilding in the Mâori context as whakawhanaun-gatanga, “the process of establishing family(whânau) relationships, literally by means ofdentifying, through culturally appropriate means,your bodily linkage, your engagement, your con-nectedness, and therefore, an unspoken butimplicit commitment to other people” (p. 203).Worby and Rigney (2002) refer to the “Five Rs:Resources, Reputations, Relationships, Reconcilia-tion and Research” (pp. 27–28) as informing theprocess of gaining ethical consent. They argue that“The dynamic relationship between givers andreceivers of knowledge is a reminder that dealingwith indigenous issues is one of the most sensitiveand complex tasks facing teachers, learners and

researchers at all levels . . .” (p. 27). Bishop andGlynn (1992) also make the point that relation-ships are not simply about making friends. Theyargue that researchers must be self-aware of theirposition within the relationship and aware of theirneed for engagement in power-sharing processes.

In Decolonizing Methodologies (L. T. Smith,1999), I also gave some examples of the ways inwhich my communities may describe respect,respectful conduct, trustworthiness, and integrityat a day-to-day level of practice and communityassessment. My concern was to show that commu-nity people, like everyone else, make assessmentsof character at every interaction. They assesspeople from the first time they see them, hearthem, and engage with them. They assess them bythe tone of a letter that is sent, as well as by the waythey eat, dress, and speak. These are applied tostrangers as well as insiders. We all do it. Differentcultures, societies, and groups have ways of mask-ing, revealing, and managing how much of theassessment is actually conveyed to the other per-son and, when it is communicated, in what formand for what purpose. A colleague, Fiona Cram(2001), has translated how the selected valuestatements in Decolonizing Methodologies could beapplied by researchers to reflect on their owncodes of conduct. This could be described as anexercise of “bottom-up” or “community-up” defin-ing of ethical behaviors that create opportunitiesto discuss and negotiate what is meant by the term“respect.” Other colleagues have elaborated on thevalues, adding more and reframing some to incor-porate other cultural expressions. One point tomake is that most ethical codes are top down,in the sense of “moral” philosophy framing themeanings of ethics and in the sense that thepowerful still make decisions for the powerless.The discussions, dialogues, and conversationsabout what ethical research conduct looks like areconducted in the meeting rooms of the powerful.

No one would dispute the principle of respect;indeed, it is embedded in all the major ethicalprotocols for researching with human subjects.However, what is respect, and how do we knowwhen researchers are behaving respectfully? Whatdoes respect entail at a day-to-day level of interaction?



To be respectful, what else does a researcher needto understand? It is when we ask questions aboutthe apparently universal value of respect thatthings come undone, because the basic premise ofthat value is quintessentially Euro-American.Whatat first appears a simple matter of respect can endup as a complicated matter of cultural protocols,languages of respect, rituals of respect,dress codes:in short, the “p’s and q’s” of etiquette specific tocultural, gender, and class groups and subgroups.Respect, like other social values, embraces quitecomplex social norms, behaviors, and meanings, as

one of many competing and active values in anygiven social situation. As an ethical principle,respect is constructed as universal partly throughthe process of defining what it means in philo-sophical and moral terms, partly through a processof distancing the social value and practice of respectfrom the messiness of any particular set of socialinteractions, and partly through a process of wrap-ping up the principle in a legal and proceduralframework. The practice of respect in research isinterpreted and expressed in very different ways onthe basis of methodology, theoretical paradigms,


Cultural Values (Smith, 1999) Researcher Guideline (Cram, 2001)

Aroha ki te tangata A respect for people—allow people to define their own space and meet ontheir own terms.

He kanohi kitea It is important to meet people face to face, especially when introducingthe idea of the research,“fronting up” to the community before sendingout long, complicated letters and materials.

Titiro, whakarongo . . . kôrero Looking and listening (and then maybe speaking). This value emphasizesthe importance of looking/observing and listening in order to developunderstandings and find a place from which to speak.

Manaaki ki te tangata Sharing, hosting, being generous. This is a value that underpins acollaborative approach to research, one that enables knowledge to flowboth ways and that acknowledges the researcher as a learner and not justa data gatherer or observer. It is also facilitates the process of “givingback,” of sharing results and of bringing closure if that is required for aproject but not to a relationship.

Kia tupato Be cautious. This suggests that researchers need to be politically astute,culturally safe, and reflective about their insider/outsider status. It is alsoa caution to insiders and outsiders that in community research, things cancome undone without the researcher being aware or being told directly.

Kaua e takahia te mana Do not trample on the “mana” or dignity of a person. This is abouto te tangata informing people and guarding against being paternalistic or impatient

because people do not know what the researcher may know. It is alsoabout simple things like the way Westerners use wit, sarcasm, and irony asdiscursive strategies or where one sits down. For example, Mâori peopleare offended when someone sits on a table designed and used for food.

Kaua e mahaki Do not flaunt your knowledge. This is about finding ways to shareknowledge, to be generous with knowledge without being a “show-off ” orbeing arrogant. Sharing knowledge is about empowering a process, butthe community has to empower itself.

Table 4.3. “Community-Up” Approach to Defining Researcher Conduct


institutional preparation, and individual idiosyn-crasies and “manners.”

Similarly, the principle and practice ofinformed consent presents real-world problemsfor researchers and for the researched. Fine, Weis,Weseen, and Wong (2000) already have discussedthe ways in which “the consent form sits at thecontradictory base of the institutionalisation ofresearch” (p. 113). The form itself can be, as theyargue, a “crude tool—a conscience—to remindus of our accountability and position” (p. 113).They ague that a consent form makes the powerrelations between researchers and researchedconcrete, and this can present challenges toresearchers and researched alike, with some par-ticipants wanting to share their stories whileothers may feel compelled to share. The form itselfcan be the basis of dialogue and mediation, butthe individual person who is participating in theresearch still must sign it. The principle ofinformed consent is based on the right of individ-uals to give consent to participation once theyhave been informed about the project and believethat they understand the project. In some juris-dictions, this right does not necessarily apply tochildren, prisoners, or people who have a mentalillness. Nevertheless, the right is an individualone. However, what if participating in a researchproject, unwittingly or wittingly, reveals collectiveinformation to researchers—for example, provid-ing DNA, sharing the making of a medicine, orrevealing secret women’s or men’s business asmay occur in societies like Aboriginal Australiancommunities, where men’s knowledge andwomen’s knowledge is strictly differentiated?Researching with children already has opened upthe possibility that family secrets, especiallystories of abuse, require actions to be takenbeyond the simple gathering of data. One concernof indigenous communities about the informedconsent principle is about the bleeding of knowl-edge away from collective protection throughindividual participation in research, with knowl-edge moving to scientists and organizations in theworld at large. This process weakens indigenouscollectively shared knowledge and is especially riskyin an era of knowledge hunting and gathering.

Another concern is about the nature of what itreally means to be informed for people who maynot be literate or well educated, who may notspeak the language of the researcher, and whomay not be able to differentiate the invitation toparticipate in research from the enforced compli-ance in signing official forms for welfare andsocial service agencies.

The claim to universal principles is one ofthe difficulties with ethical codes of conduct forresearch. It is not just that the concepts of respect,beneficence, and justice have been definedthrough Western eyes; there are other principlesthat inform ethical codes that can be problematicunder certain conditions. In some indigenouscontexts, the issue is framed more around theconcept of human rights rather than principles orvalues. However, whether it is about principles,values, or rights, there is a common underpin-ning. Ethics codes are for the most part aboutprotecting the individual, not the collective.Individuals can be “picked off ” by researcherseven when a community signals it does notapprove of a project. Similarly, the claim to benef-icence, the “save mankind” claim made evenbefore research has been completed, is used toprovide a moral imperative that certain forms ofresearch must be supported at the expense ofeither individual or community consent. Researchis often assumed to be beneficial simply becauseit is framed as research; its benefits are regardedas “self-evident” because the intentions of theresearcher are “good.” In a review of healthresearch literature reporting on research involv-ing indigenous Australians, I. Anderson, Griew,and McAullay (2003) suggest that very littleattention is paid to the concept of benefit byresearchers, and even less attention is paid to theassessment of research benefit. A consequence ofthe lack of guidelines in this area, they argue, isthat “in the absence of any other guidelines thevalues that guide such a judgement will reflectthose of the ethics committee as opposed to thoseof the Indigenous community in which researchis proposed” (p. 26).

A more significant difficulty, already alludedto, can be expressed more in terms of “who”



governs, regulates, interprets, sanctions, andmonitors ethical codes of conduct” “Who” isresponsible if things go terribly wrong? And“who” really governs and regulates the behaviorsof scientists outside institutions and voluntaryprofessional societies? For example, rogue scien-tists and quirky religious groups are already com-peting for the glory of cloning human beings withthose whose research is at least held to a accept-able standards because of their employment inrecognized institutions. From an indigenousperspective, the “who” on ethical review boards isrepresentative of narrow class, religious, acade-mic, and ethnic groups rather than reflecting thediversity of society. Because these boards are fun-damentally supportive of research for advancingknowledge and other high-level aims, their maintask is to advance research, not to limit it. In otherwords, their purpose is not neutral; it is to assistinstitutions to undertake research—within accept-able standards. These boards are not where largerquestions about society’s interests in researchought to be discussed; they generally are the placewhere already determined views about researchare processed, primarily to protect institutions.Marginalized and vulnerable groups are not, byand large, represented on such boards. If a margin-alized group is represented, its voice is muted asone of many voices of equal weight but not of equalpower. Hence, even if a representative of a margin-alized group is included on a review board, theindividual may not have the support, the knowl-edge, or the language to debate the issue amongthose who accept the dominant Western view ofethics and society. These are difficult concerns toresolve but need to be discussed in an ongoing way,as ethical challenges will always exist in societies.

King, Henderson, and Stein (1999) suggestthat there are two paradigms of ethics, the one weknow as principalist and a potentially new onein process that is about relationships. King,Henderson, and Stein argue that the ethics regula-tions that researchers currently work under arebased on three factors:

� Balancing principles: autonomy, beneficence,justice, informed consent, and confidentiality

� Ethical universalism (not moral relativism):truth (not stories)

� Atomistic focus: small frame, centered onindividuals.

In the case of the International Society ofEthnobiology (ISE), a society of scientists whosework involves indigenous communities, the Codeof Ethics that was developed with indigenous par-ticipation identifies 15 principles upon which eth-ical conduct rests. These principles include suchthings as the principles of self-determination,inalienability, traditional guardianship, and activeparticipation. The ISE Code of Ethics suggeststhat research needs to be built on meaningfulpartnerships and collaboration with indigenouscommunities. Similarly, the Australian Instituteof Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Studiespublished the Guidelines for Ethical Research inIndigenous Studies (2002) after conducting work-shops with indigenous studies researchers. TheGuidelines connect the notion of ethical principleswith human rights and seek to “embody the beststandards of ethical research and human rights”(p. 4). The Guidelines propose three major princi-ples, inside of which are fuller explanations of theprinciples and practical applications. The threemain principles are

� Consultation, negotiation, and mutual under-standing

� Respect, recognition, and involvement� Benefits, outcomes, and agreement.

Within the principles of the Guidelines are furthersubprinciples, such as respect for indigenousknowledge systems and processes, recognitionof the diversity and uniqueness of peoples andindividuals, and respect for intellectual and cul-tural property rights and involvement of indige-nous individuals and communities as researchcollaborators.

Principles are balancing factors that still restupon the assumption that the principles areunderstood as meaning the same thing to allpeople under all circumstances. As Denzin (2003)argues, this approach implies a singular approach



to all forms of inquiry that oversimplifies anddehumanizes the human subject. Indigenouscommunities and other marginalized groups maynot understand the history of the ethical code ofconduct or its basis in Western moral philosophy,but they do understand breaches of respectand negative impacts from research such as theremoval of their rights and lands. Qualitativeresearchers also know that emerging methodolo-gies and emerging researchers have a difficulttime making their way through the review processto gain approval. Kathleen M. Cumiskey (1998)narrates her experiences in dealing with her insti-tutional review board as ones that came down toa reminder that graduate students would not beindemnified if she happened to be arrested or herwork subpoenaed. The emphasis on proceduralissues, including the balancing of risks and bene-fits, inhibits or limits the potential for institutionsand society to examine ethics against a muchbroader social and epistemological framework.

What does an indigenous approach to researchcontribute to a discussion about ethical standards?Indigenous perspectives challenge researchers toreflect upon two significant contributions. In thefirst instance, indigenous communities share withother marginalized and vulnerable communitiesa collective and historically sustained experienceof research as the Object. They also share the useof a “research as expert” representation of whothey are. It is an experience indigenous communi-ties associate with colonialism and racism, withinequality and injustice. More important, indige-nous communities hold an alternative way ofknowing about themselves and the environmentthat has managed to survive the assaults of colo-nization and its impacts. This alternative way ofknowing may be different from what was knownseveral hundred years ago by a community, but itis still a way of knowing that provides access to adifferent epistemology, an alternative vision ofsociety, an alternative ethics for human conduct.It is not, therefore, a question of whether theknowledge is “pure” and authentic but whetherit has been the means through which peoplehave made sense of their lives and circum-stances, that has sustained them and their cultural

practices over time, that forms the basis for theirunderstanding of human conduct, that enrichestheir creative spirit and fuels their determinationto be free. The first contribution of an indigenousperspective to any discussion about researchethics is one that challenges those of us who teachabout research ethics, who participate in approv-ing and monitoring ethics proposals, to under-stand the historical development of research asa corporate, deeply colonial institution that isstructurally embedded in society and its institu-tions. It is not just about training and then polic-ing individual researchers, nor about ensuringthat research with human subjects is an ethicalactivity. One thing we must have learned from thepast is that when research subjects are notregarded as human to begin with, when they havebeen dehumanized, when they have been margin-alized from “normal” human society, the humanresearcher does not see human subjects. Tounravel the story of research ethics with humansubjects, teachers and students must understandthat research ethics is not just a body of historical“hiccups” and their legal solutions. It is a study ofhow societies, institutions, disciplines, and indi-viduals authorize, describe, settle, and rule. It is astudy of historical imperialism, racism, and patri-archy and the new formations of these systems incontemporary relations of power. It is a study ofhow humans fail and succeed at treating eachother with respect.

Just as important, the second contributionindigenous research offers is a rich, deep, anddiverse resource of alternative ways of knowingand thinking about ethics, research relationships,personal conduct, and researcher integrity. Thereare other ways to think about ethics that are uni-que to each culture. There are other ways to guideresearcher conduct and ensure the integrity ofresearch and the pursuit of knowledge. In NewZealand, as one example, Mâori are discussingethics in relation to tikanga, defined briefly byMead (2003) as “A body of knowledge and custom-ary practices carried out characteristically by com-munities”(p. 15). Mead (2003) argues that Tikangahas three main aspects, of knowledge, practices,and actors, and that among, other things, tikanga



provides guidelines about moral and behavioralissues and informs ethical matters. He proposesfive “tests” that can be applied to an ethicaldilemma from a tikanga Mâori perspective. These“tests” draw on Mâori values to provide a frame-work for arriving at a Mâori position on a specificethical issue. The “tests” include the following:

� Applying cultural understandings of knowl-edge (for example applying mauri, the view thatevery living thing has a mauri or life force)

� Genealogical stories (such as those that explainhow living things were created)

� Precedents in history� Relationships� Cultural values (such as the value of looking

after people).

Mead suggests that examining an ethical issueagainst each of the five “tests” provides a frame-work that enables the dilemma created by newtechnologies to be thought through in a way thatmeets cultural and ethical scrutiny while remain-ing open to new possibilities. It is also a way tobuild a cultural and community body of knowl-edge about new discoveries, technologies, andresearch ethics.

It may be that these and other explorationsconnect with King, Henderson, and Stein’s (1999)conception of a relationships paradigm thatincludes the following elements:

Layering of relevant relationships—individualsand groups

Context based—what are the relevant contexts?Culture, gender, race/ethnicity, community,place, others

Crosscutting issues, wider frame of reference

Narrative focus

Continuity—issues arise before and continueafter projects

Change—in relationships over time

It may also be a way that connects withDenzin’s (2003) call for a more inclusive and flex-ible model that would apply to all forms ofinquiry. Also, as suggested by I. Anderson, Griew,

and McAullay (2003), there is a tension betweenthe regulations of practice and the developmentof ethical relationships. They argue that there is aneed to develop at least two layers of responsive-ness, one involving institutional collaborationswith communities and the other involvingresearcher relationships with communities thatare also mediated by reformed research struc-tures. Indigenous research offers access to a rangeof epistemic alternatives. I would not want to sug-gest that such ways are simply out there waiting tobe discovered, but certainly there are people andcommunities willing to engage in a meaningfuldialogue, and there is much to talk about.

2 QUALITATIVE TRAVELERS

ON TRICKY GROUND

Qualitative research in an age of terrorism, in atime of uncertainty, and in an era when knowl-edge as power is reinscribed through its value asa commodity in the global market place presentstricky ground for researchers. It is often at thelocal level of marginalized communities thatthese complex currents intersect and are experi-enced as material conditions of poverty, injus-tice, and oppression. It is also at this levelthat responses to such currents are created onthe ground, for seemingly pragmatic reasons.Sometimes this approach may indeed be a rea-sonable solution, but at other times it draws intoquestion the taken-for-granted understandingsthat are being applied to decisions made underpressure.What maps should qualitative researchersstudy before venturing onto such terrain? This isnot a trick question but rather one that suggeststhat we do have some maps.We can begin with allthe maps of qualitative research we currentlyhave, then draw some new maps that enrich andextend the boundaries of our understandingsbeyond the margins. We need to draw on all ourmaps of understanding. Even those tired andretired maps of qualitative research may holdimportant clues such as the origin stories orgenealogical beginnings of certain trends andsticking points in qualitative research.



Qualitative researchers, however, must bemore than either travelers or cultural tourists.Qualitative research is an important tool forindigenous communities because it is the toolthat seems most able to wage the battle of repre-sentation (Fine et al., 2000); to weave and unravelcompeting storylines (Bishop, 1998); to situate,place, and contextualize; to create spaces fordecolonizing (Aldama, 2001, Tierney, 2000); toprovide frameworks for hearing silence and listen-ing to the voices of the silenced (LeCompte, 1993,L. T. Smith, 2001); to create spaces for dialogueacross difference; to analyze and make sense ofcomplex and shifting experiences, identities, andrealities; and to understand little and big changesthat affect our lives.Qualitative research approacheshave the potential to respond to epistemic chal-lenges and crises, to unravel and weave, to fold inand unmask the layers of the social life and depthof human experience. This is not an argument forreducing qualitative research to social activism,nor is it an argument that suggests that quantita-tive research cannot also do some of the samethings, but rather an argument for the tools, strate-gies, insights, and expert knowledge that can comewith having a focused mind trained on the quali-tative experience of people.

Qualitative research has an expanding set oftools that enable finer-grained interpretations ofsocial life. Expanding the understandings and toolsof qualitative researchers is important in an erawhen the diversity of human experience in socialgroups and communities, with languages and epis-temologies, is undergoing profound cultural andpolitical shifts.Although it could be argued that thishas always been the case because societies alwaysare dynamic,there is an argument to be made aboutthe rapid loss of languages and cultures, thehomogenization of cultures through globalization,and the significance for many communities of theimpact of human beings on the environment.Indigenous communities live with the urgency thatthese challenges present to the world and havesought, through international mobilization, to callattention to these concerns.It is considered a sign ofsuccess when the Western world, through one of itsinstitutions, pauses even momentarily to consider

an alternative possibility. Indigenous researchactively seeks to extend that momentary pause intogenuine engagement with indigenous communitiesand alternative ways of seeking to live with and inthe world.

2 NOTE

1. For example, in January, 2004, a series ofspeeches was made in New Zealand by a conservativepolitical leader that attacked the role of the Treaty ofWaitangi in legislation, that claimed Mâori had extraholiday entitlements, that Mâori with academic quali-fications had lower standards because of affirmativeaction entry practices, and that purported to representa “race free” vision for New Zealand. The speeches werequickly taken up as a populist message even thoughthey were based on information later found to beincorrect and exaggerated and were clearly under-pinned by an understanding of race and ethnicity thatresonated with the racist messages of Australia’s OneNation Leader Pauline Hanson.

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ON TRICKY GROUND - Corwin · tuting, and redefining ourselves as peoples and communities in a state of ongoing crisis.Research is a site of contestation not simply at the level of