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 Chapter 2 :  Notes  |  Appendix A  |  Appendix B

 

 

Chapter Two: Epistemological and Theoretical Considerations

“Modern society has subjugated the populace to the point that it no longer even sees the bars of its cage.” Anarchism-as-sensible-resistance-to-our-subjugation proponent and WTO protester John Zerzan, as reported by Derrick Jensen, Alternative Press Review, reprinted in Utne Reader, May-June 2001, p. 49.

Alvesson and Deetz (1996) suggest that critical theory and postmodern thought oppose objectivists with their goals of prediction and control of nature and people, as well as humanists who set forth a “naïve version of human freedom” (p. 205) by privileging certain individual points of view. “Both critical theory and postmodern thought share the view that domination is aided, and both people and organizations lose much, if we overlook social constructions by treating the existing world as natural, rational, and neutral” (p. 211). Even with these shared aspects, critical theory without postmodern themes “easily becomes unreflective in regard to cultural elitism and modern conditions of power” and without critical theory, postmodernism becomes “esoteric” (p. 211; see also Huspek, 1991).

Hegemony is a process of “pervading common sense and becoming part of the ordinary way of seeing the world, understanding one’s self, and experiencing needs” (Alvesson & Deetz, 1996, p. 201; see also Gramsci, 1971; Angus, 1992; Trachtman, 2002, Apr). Schutz and Luckmann (1973) suggest, “In contrast to specific experiences, [these] fundamental structures do not enter into the grip of consciousness in the natural attitude” but they are “a condition of every experience of the lifeworld (p. 103). These experiences enter “the horizon of experience … each experience ‘obviously’ or ‘self-evidently’ has an unchangeable spatial, temporal, and social arrangement” (p. 103; see also Sunwolf & Seibold, 1998, p. 287, and Giddens, 1979, re: structuration). An example is “science” about which Baudrillard (1983) says “science never sacrifices itself; it is always murderous” (p. 14).

How does this IRB (or any) regulatory enterprise maintain itself (each of its parts) if the participants – the rule makers themselves – don’t support (parts of) it? Perhaps this is a component of reform. What will constitute “critical mass” for change? Who will be the Hundredth Monkey? (Schell, 1982){52}*

Historically and currently, with respect to regulation of all kinds, the (hegemonic) opinion that more direct oversight, more rules, more enforcement, more penalties are needed is pervasive. In the case of human subjects regulation, direct oversight is “needed” because of concerns about rules being followed (DHHS OIG, 1998b, 1998c, 1998d, 2000b; GAO, 2001) not necessarily, nor centrally, concerns about the protection of people. (This situation is an example of detachment from the lifeworld of research, as described in the “Simulations” section, below, p. 62.) These rules themselves, much less more direct oversight, are especially unnecessary in social science research studies in which no treatment and/or “minimal risk” are involved, as defined by the federal government. What are we “protecting” people who participate in “minimal risk” studies from ? (The federal definition of “minimal risk” implies we would be protecting people from life’s risks.) We have developed an unwarranted belief that rules plus compliance equals protection. They do not, and the belief that they do is SINSful (see National Bioethics Advisory Commission, [NBAC, 2001]; and Brainard, 2001, Jan 12).

The Entrenchment of Enlightenment Ideology

I have chosen to highlight the distinctions between qualitative and quantitative research, including aspects of their historical development. This distinction, while not perfect, is best suited for the purposes here. Some notes about the distinction are appropriate, however. First, this analysis does not require nor suggest that qualitative and quantitative research methods are “opposites” or even totally exclusive of each other. For many portions of this study, the main distinction is not the particular method per se, but the treatments (or lack of them) associated most generally with certain methods. An overwhelming majority of clinical studies are quantitative in nature, and most studies involving no treatment are qualitative. In other parts of this study, the important distinction between qualitative and quantitative research is related to the nature of what is assumed by researchers to be the end product of the method they employ. For example, in completing application forms (most often designed by and for clinicians, or derived from forms originally designed for clinical researchers), qualitative researchers (who don’t often employ hypotheses) often find the questions and requirements of the process and forms absurd. For example, many qualitative researchers have very little idea about the “outcome” of their research, or even what data might be useful in a “final” analysis (see Van Maanen quote, p. 48; Agar quote, p. 49; and Feller quote, p. 40).

The positivistic, naturalistic bias is very much with us (O’Connor, 1979; Klockars, 1979; Whyte, 1987; Knights, 1992; Flyvbjerg, 2001, just to highlight a 32-year micro-slice of the debate). Too often, qualitative researchers are required to spend considerable time justifying their existence.{53}*  Yet, prediction is highly problematic even when/if we don’t acknowledge that is the case. Whyte (1987) suggests “ … the history of recent failures in [quantitative] social research points to the need for an anthropological orientation to research,” to researchers with “the ability to conceptualize human behavior into systems of interpersonal, intergroup, and interorganizational relations, to relate the structure and functioning of the organization to the structure and functioning of the community, and finally, to integrate economic and technological with social data” (p. 161; see also Sunwolf & Seibold, 1998, p. 286, re: “boundary spanners;” Vidich & Lyman, 2000; and Jones, 1999, Feb 18, re: the usefulness and popularity of those holding anthropology degrees with businesses). With respect to organizational theory, Mumby (1987) states, “several authors have sought to question the legitimacy of organizational models based on the notion that organizations are intrinsically rational in their modus operandi” (p. 115).

I suggest it is time for (renewed) vigorous whying on the part of researchers, organizational and otherwise. The IRB system appears to be unreasonable in many respects, and critical reviews of the processes may be useful in reforming the system. At (at least) one institution, though, rules constituting the process have prohibited observation of the process.{54}* Obviously if this interpretation of the rules is employed (i.e., IRBs refusing to approve studies designed to study IRBs), the system remains beyond the scope of open critique and discourse that would perhaps enhance understanding of the system (and even the system itself) for all involved parties: regulators, researchers, and participants of research.

In some ways IRB regulations have always been inappropriate. It is time to acknowledge the absurdity of some IRB requirements (and pursuant interpretations), particularly in social science research, i.e., observational, non-treatment, minimal risk (i.e., no risk beyond that found in life in general) studies. These characteristics of qualitative research make preparing IRB application forms, as they exist now, hardly possible (as unreasonable, irrelevant, contrived, required but unnecessary texts-as-ritual rather than meaningful texts).

Qualitative research is endlessly creative and interpretive; the interpretations are constructed from field texts, i.e., notes and documents. The writer-as-interpreter moves from this text to a research text: notes and interpretations based on the field text. This text is then transformed to a working interpretive document, containing the writer’s early attempts to make sense out of what s/he has learned. Finally the writer produces the public text that comes to the reader. This final tale of the field may assume several forms: confessional, realist, impressionistic, critical, formal, literary, analytic, grounded theory, and so on. (Van Maanen, 1988, p. 29-30.)

What is the researcher, particularly the qualitative researcher, to do? A dilemma is inherent: A qualitative researcher cannot know the future and therefore cannot gain advance approval for data that presents itself, often on-the-spot (i.e., in the lifeworld) or at later times (i.e., recollections of the lifeworld), in the mind of the writer, i.e., a connection is made from life’s experiences, and becomes, in a post hoc fashion, relevant data, hardly something for which advance approval can be sought. (And, this differs considerably from hypothesis-driven approaches.) Agar (1980) suggests “You can’t specify the questions you’re going to ask when you move into the community; you don’t know how to ask questions yet. You can’t define a sample; you don’t know what the range of social types is and which ones are relevant to the topics you’re interested in. None of this goes over well with hypothesis testing fanatics” (p.70). Even the National Institute on Drug Abuse (NIDA, 1995) states, “There is now a much greater demand for creativity and resourcefulness on the part of behavioral and social science researchers to expand and integrate traditional research methods and develop new approaches” (p. 1). Regulations and applications do not contribute to or accommodate “creativity” (unless perhaps in developing circumvention tactics){55}* but to sameness. Detailed advance planning snuffs out the opportunity to do much expanding or integrating or development-in-the-moment. The federal rules are apparently in conflict with the federal goals in this instance. The NIDA also admits, “Despite the increased receptivity toward qualitative research methods, however, there is still some lack of clarity in what qualitative methodologists do” (p. 6; see also Vidich & Lyman, 2000).

Qualitative research holds to no single methodology or set of methods, doesn’t privilege one over others, has no theory or paradigm that is distinctly its own, and is used in many disciplines including education, communication, psychology, history, organizational studies, medical science, anthropology, sociology, and others (Denzin & Lincoln, 2000){56}*. Qualitative researchers use semiotics, narrative, content, discourse, archival, and phonemic analysis, even statistics.{57}* They also utilize various aspects and applications of ethnomethodology, phenomenology, hermeneutics, feminism, deconstructionism, ethnographies, interviews,{58}* psychoanalysis, cultural studies, survey research, participant observation, and others (Denzin & Lincoln, 2000, p. 6). Diaries, and diaries in combination with interviews, are also useful (see Zimmerman & Wieder, 1977).{59}* Qualitative research is, therefore, according to Denzin and Lincoln (2000, p. 8) “interdisciplinary, transdisciplinary,” and sometimes a “counterdisciplinary” field, it is “multiparadigmatic” and researchers in this field value “the multimethod approach” to answering questions. Qualitative researchers are committed to the “naturalistic perspective” and “interpretive understanding of human experience” (Denzin & Lincoln (2000, p. 8).

Social Science Regulatory Observations and Considerations

In a search of the Chronicle of Higher Education for ten years’ time, 73 stories were found under the heading “Institutional Review Boards” overall, but only five of those were social scientific in nature (see Figure 1, p. 50). {60}*

Figure 1

 

In the qualitative research arena, the questions surrounding the protection of human subjects of research shrink in volume and narrow in focus: What is public and what is private? What distinctions (i.e., interpretations) are made between “confidential” and “anonymous” and when do they (i.e., are they interpreted to) apply? When does the distinction matter, in terms of regulation? When does it matter in “real” life? And, what can the researcher promise the participant anyway? Does a researcher who refuses to break a promise of confidentiality or anonymity have immunity from formal/legal, professional, academic, or other forms of prosecution?

What is “harmful” research? What is “minimal risk?” “Greater than minimal risk?” “Somewhat greater than minimal risk?”{61}* “Only slightly greater than minimal” risk?{62}* Who labels it so?{63}* Who has the right to distinguish? Who has the ability? When is covert research activity justified? When is regulation justified? What is the role of regulation in all of this? And, how does it work ?

How does it work? Not only in terms of efficiency, i.e., how well it works, but also more basically how it operates. These are important local questions, even if no absolute or comprehensive answers exist. And certainly, an understanding of how something operates is a logical prerequisite to understanding how to evaluate, reform, or improve it. (For examples of analysis, see Appendix A, p. 344.)

Epistemological Position

Evaluations of the “true” effectiveness of regulatory efforts may not be comprehensive, conclusive, possible, useful, or advisable. High degrees of intersubjective agreement are not likely to exist, especially in regulatory situations. However, observations and subsequent descriptions of regulatory activity, in an attempt to understand how the system works (i.e., operates) seems a reasonable pursuit.

From the position that the regulatory system is substantially detached from the research system (in a sense, hyperreal, as described by Baudrillard, 1983, and also by Russell, 1972), “this passage into a space whose curvature is no longer that of the real, nor of truth” (p. 3-4) is the onset of  “the age of simulation” which “begins with a liquidation of all referentials,” (i.e., things corresponding with the lifeworld, p. 4), and made  “worse,” by “their artificial resurrection in the form of signs” (p. 4). It involves the “substituting signs of the real for the real itself, an operation to deter every real process by its operational double” (Baudrillard, 1983, p. 4). Epistemologically, then it is important to critically analyze the “curvature” of the regulatory world without, to the extent possible, making “flat earth” assumptions. Deetz (1995) says, “The management of work must be reintegrated with the doing of work” (p. 170).

Simulationally, then, much of the science of human communication relies upon the optimistic assumption that behavior can be both understood and improved through systematic study. Further, it assumes that improvement must be based upon understanding, which converges on the primary goal of science. Some communication scientists “positivistically” assume that they can find important patterns in social behavior through observations of many similar actions. Positivists believe they can devise and support general laws about behavior (Skinner, 1938; and more recently in the communication field, C. Berger, 1991; Berger & Calabrese, 1975; Burgoon & LePoire, 1992; nearly anything coming from the McCroskey Machine or the grinding of Gudykunst’s Gears). Some communication theorists want to understand and interpret, and to know the affects and meanings communication holds for the participants themselves in every conceivable context (interpersonal, group, organizational, societal, etc.). And still other theorists want to take up the issues of change, emancipation, and critique (Alvesson & Willmott, 1992; Alvesson & Deetz, 2000; and predecessors Marx, Horkheimer, Adorno, and later Foucault, Habermas, Derrida, and others).

For example, Redding and Tompkins (1988; see also Tompkins & Cheney, 1985), from a postmodern viewpoint (though not explicitly stated as such) suggest that communication distortion does not mean the same thing to a critical scholar that it might mean to a traditionalist. Following their argument, when communication traditionalists{64}* talk about distortion, they focus on (in)accuracies or errors in (in)formation that lead to (in)efficiency and (in)effectiveness (mal-formation) in communication or some such conjecture. Traditionalists might observe and measure managers’ communicative behaviors in order to classify them in degree of “openness” or some other notion, or purport to measure the levels of job satisfaction among employees or managers, or perform statistical analyses related, they would contend, to whether employee job satisfaction is greater under “high-openness” or low, etc.{65}* These terms (operationalizations, or what might be described as “real” world detachments, or Baudriesque simulations), i.e., “measure,” “openness,” “high-openness,” “job satisfaction,” etc. point out language that dominates thinking about jobs, happiness, the desirability of whatever “openness” is defined as, what an adequate sample size is, what efficiency is, and even what science is. This thinking is SINSful (see next section, p. 58-64), specifically assumptions that these processes, definitions, observations, measurements, observations, and conclusions are relevant, or fit, or are fit to describe more than a tiny sliver of “reality.” These same processes, definitions, observations, measurements, and conclusions are too many steps removed from the “real” world to be used alone or authoritatively about what life is like, yet we accept them as institutions, as natural, normal, as preferable, as “science.” In my way of thinking Baudrillard’s “simulation” (the second “S” in SINS) is very close in meaning to “operationalization” (see footnote # 108, p. 92, re: Schutz comments about lost relationships to meaning in the natural sciences).  Jackson (1989) says that the “impersonal idioms” we use in talking about our “unsystematic, unstructured nature of our experiences” helps us “create illusory word-worlds which we can more or less easily manager because they are cut off from the stream of life” (p. 4). Jackson concludes, “In this sense, objectivity becomes a synonym for estrangement and neutrality a euphemism for indifference” (p. 4).

“In a postmodern approach … language which is produced by the empirical process does not equate with an increasingly accurate correspondence with reality. Instead it represents a process of professional self-justification” according to Hassard (1993, p. 12). Further, the inherently impossible value-free position of positivists contributes to this “distance from reality” (i.e., detachment) problem. In turn, these departures from reality create a layer (or several layers) of what might be called “buried superficiality,” i.e., we know something we do does not work, and is not based on “reality,” but we keep doing it, burying our concerns in some kind of un- or de-being process. (See Schutz & Luckmann, 1973, and/or footnote # 247, p. 241 re: use of rules as simplifying.)

Analytical Framework

Each person is born into ongoing discourses that have a material and continuing presence … Available discourse positions the person in the world in a particular way prior to the individual having any sense of choice. [This discourse] structures the person’s subjectivity, providing a particular social identity and way of being in the world. The person, contra humanism, is always social first and only mistakenly claims the personal self as the origin of experience. (Alvesson & Deetz, 1996, p. 205)

Schutz and Luckmann (1973) use the term "historizations" (in describing a phenomenon similar to “discourse structures”) saying they “originate from socially conditioned motives” (p. 283-84; see also Sunwolf & Seibold, 1998, p. 286-87).

Language is inherently limiting; it hides important alternatives. (See Poole, et al., 1985, for discussion about boundary establishment and identity maintenance within structured environments.) Once we subscribe to the patterned system, we begin talking “at” or past” each other, role-to-role (i.e., detached) rather than “with,” (real-to-real) in a sort of pseudo-engagement. This notion of pseudo-engagement is particularly relevant to the issue of regulation, i.e., we rarely have face-to-face encounters with regulators. Our conversations with them, if they occur at all, are focused on the fulfillment of rules rather than the reasons for them (Baudrillard, 1983, 1988; Foucault, 1972, 1980; Habermas, 1975, 1984, and others).{66}*  For example, most regulators would likely be “offended” by and probably unable to answer “why” questions; they are accustomed to answering “how” questions (even if/when unable).

Individuals arrange for—and often direct the flow of—activities (talk) within settings (Goffman, 1974; Austin, 1962; Searle, 1969; Chomsky, 1965; Garfinkel, 1967; Sacks, Schegloff, & Jefferson, 1974; Foucault, 1972, and others). Asking questions that others must answer, and making requests and issuing directives to which others must—at least are expected to—respond (and to respond in specific ways) are examples. People create rules, specialized vocabularies, and certain forms of argument. They form hierarchies, rituals, and routines via this discourse. Individuals produce (or more accurately, co-produce) control and power, then, through discursive dominance, i.e., making some resources (including ways of knowing, i.e., what is considered fact, what is considered logical, what is considered risky [or less than risky, or somewhat less than risky], what is public and private, and perpetuating the myth of a singular truth, justice, beneficence, etc.) available to themselves and others, and acting to make other resources less available. And people do this through talk. In the case of regulatory bodies, most of the talk results in written documents, i.e., rules and reports.

SINS (Structures, Institutionalizations, Naturalizations, Simulations)

In the present study, the works of the classical theorists-Weber (1947), Fayol, (1916/1949), and Taylor (1919/1947)-are useful for understanding the roots of the IRB system and may provide glimpses of the (SINS) STRUCTURES, INSTITUTIONALIZATIONS, NATURALIZATIONS, SIMULATIONS operating in the system. SINS may be described as “unacknowledged” knowledge. SINS are neutral but powerful. (See Foucault, 1980; 1977/1995, p. 297, re: “carceral continuum,” “carceral net,” and “carceral circles” underlying morality, power relations, and order; and Durkheim, 1933, p. 79, re: “common consciousness” creation.)

The power of any position has been traditionally gathered from its grounding. This grounding could be to either a metaphysical foundation – such as an external world in empiricism, mental structures in rationalism, or human nature in humanism – or a narrative, a story of history, such as Marxism’s class struggle, social Darwinism’s survival of the fittest, or market economy’s invisible hand. With such groundings, positions are made to seem secure and inevitable and not opportunistic or driven by advantage. (Alvesson & Deetz, 1996, p. 208)

Structures. Marx offered the earliest ideological critiques of the workplace in 1844 and 1867 (Alvesson & Deetz, 1996). Marx focused on economic exploitation practices, direct coercion, and structural social differences, but he also described ways exploitation is disguised and comes to be legitimized (see also Lefebvre, 1969, p. 7 and 10). The focus of study shifted to scrutiny of active consent, and the (SINS) STRUCTURES, INSTITUTIONALIZATIONS, NATURALIZATIONS, SIMULATIONS (and concessions) that make the need for coercion rare. In this view, a worker’s self-understanding of experiences became, and remains, important to understand.

Similar to Adorno (1989a), Hall (1986) offers the example that marketing research operates with the ideology that capitalism is good, similar to the contention that science and regulation continue to operate with a bias toward positivism (see also Whyte, 1987; Agar, 1980; Goffman, 1971).

I believe this is consistent with Marx’ economics-as-deep-structure premise, and this perspective may be useful in gaining more understanding of (SINS) STRUCTURES, INSTITUTIONALIZATIONS, NATURALIZATIONS, SIMULATIONS affecting the IRB system. For example, the notions that rules are perceived by many individuals as desirable or as constituting protection. There appears to be a bias toward compliance, perhaps in part because of this notion of protection, and because it is easier, safer, and substantially more “appropriate” to conform than to rebel.{67}* (Re: rules perceived as desirable, following rules as good, and rules as protective, see Schutz & Luckmann, 1973; re: maintenance of status quo, see Adorno, 1989a and Horkheimer & Adorno, 1944/1972; also see Brainard, 2001, Jan 12; NBAC, 2001; Sunwolf & Seibold, 1998). The (mythical) ideas that rules are good, and even that following rules is good,{68}* are obvious, particularly on the part of federal and institutional regulators, as I will show.

(SINS) STRUCTURES, INSTITUTIONALIZATIONS, NATURALIZATIONS, SIMULATIONS are operating in the IRB system, even when the rules (often symptoms of even deeper structures) are being (at least occasionally) criticized. It may be that the IRB (or other) system remains in place (and is expanding in some local interpretations to include film makers, journalists, historians, cultural geographers, and others previously not affected) even though it is considered abusive and unnecessary by many (see, in particular, AAUP, 2001 and others cited herein), because the oppressed allow it (see Adorno, 1989b, footnote # 67, below), and then contribute to entrenching the system of rules by the SINSful assumptions that the system is unavoidable, cannot be deconstructed, has a “higher purpose” of which an individual researcher is unaware, etc.

Institutionalizations. More or less following Marx, Giddens (1979) defines ideology as a set of assumptions and beliefs comprising a system of thought. Ideology provides the structure of an organization’s “mode of rationality,” and is essential to an organization’s deep structure. Ideology, in Giddens’ (1979) view, serves to privilege certain groups. Members of dominated groups participate in their own oppression (they concede) by identifying with and consenting to the system preferred by the dominators. In organizational settings, according to Williams (1977), such dominance occurs when a group in power (managers, for example, or regulators) convinces an oppressed group to adopt the interests of the dominant group (the we’re-all-on-the-same-team pitch, loyalty, patriotism, and corporate cultism are examples), or makes some reality claims more available than others (Foucault, 1977/1995). Hall (1986), in the context of mass communication, suggests that the media do not reflect the status quo ideology, but the media actually reinforce it. (See also Grabe, 1999, particularly the last sentence, “This study’s results support the notion that television mass disseminates messages to nurture the survival of the existing social order,” p. 168.)

Naturalizations.  According to Alvesson & Deetz (1996) naturalization involves social formations that are abstracted from the “historical conflictual site” of their origins and treated as fixed entities. These reifications “become the reality rather than life processes” and these “institutional arrangements are no longer seen as choices but as natural and self-evident” (p. 199). Adorno (1989a) states that “conformity has replaced consciousness” (via models in the media of how to dress, think, behave, etc.) and “the concepts of order which [the culture industry] hammers into human beings are always those of the status quo. They remain unquestioned, unanalyzed, and undialectically presupposed, even if they no longer have any substance for those who accept them” (p. 133; see also Mumby, 1987, p. 51).  And Derrida (1981) says that normative{69}* social structures are products of systems privileging unity and identity over separation and difference. This work has relevance to the “invisible functioning” of the IRB regulatory system, the (SINS) STRUCTURES, INSTITUTIONALIZATIONS, NATURALIZATIONS, SIMULATIONS, at work. “Nothing offers a more striking symbol for the fact that people’s lives, what they hold for the closest to them and the greatest reality, personal, maintained in being by them, actually receive their concrete content in large measure from above” (Adorno, 1989b, p. 273).

Simulations. To further explain Baudrillard’s (1983) ideas about simulations, I’ll first present a descriptive example he offers, and then a brief discussion of the “phases of the image” as he outlines. Baudrillard (1983) presents feigning versus simulating an illness in illustrating his idea. When feigning an illness, a person “can simply go to bed and make believe [he] is ill” (p. 5); when someone simulates an illness, though, the person produces in him/herself some of the symptoms of the illness. Therefore, “feigning or dissimulation leaves the reality principle intact: the difference is always clear, it is only masked; whereas simulation threatens the difference between ‘true’ and ‘false,’ between ‘real’ and imaginary’” (p. 5).

Baudrillard’s (1983) phases of the image include first a “good appearance,” i.e., a reflection of a basic reality. Next, characterized as a “bad appearance,” is an image that masks and perverts a basic reality. Third, what Baudrillard terms sorcery, masks the absence of a basic reality. And finally, simulation, in which an image “bears no relation to any reality whatever; it is its own pure simulacrum” (p. 11). In the case of the IRB system, many examples of these phases can be seen. Application forms, completed by researchers for presentation to IRB members, “good appearances” (phase one). They are “good” in that they are produced by the person who will actually conduct or at least conduct a potion of the study, i.e., will be in the liquid, local research environment. That these applications are accepted as accurate representations of what actually happens in any local situation is a masking/perversion (phase two) of that local reality (and especially perverted, perhaps, is an irrelevant/ill fitting regulatory structure). Researchers contribute to the sorcery (phase three) in “masking” the absence of reality in the system (regulators’ acceptance of written documents as ensuring protection and/or compliance to rules, or the assumptions that rules, if followed, provide protection and/or that researchers know and comply with rules). An argument could be made, with respect to phase four, that the entire IRB system (and indeed many regulatory systems) is a “simulation.” Examples of evidence of this image phase might be the (rather prevalent) idea that regulatory systems are needed and/or are accomplishing their goals, or that regulators and the regulated often perceive regulations to be “mandatory” (when, without direct oversight, the system can only be in a “real” sense voluntary).{70}*

Bringing SINS into View: Foucault’s Archeology

Critical theorists, with a focus on communicative and symbolic approaches to power, argue that assumptions within a group that things are or should be a particular way is most powerful. “Domination involves getting people to organize their behavior around a particular rules system” (Mumby, 1987, p. 115). Foucault, it seems, agrees when he advances the idea that power is a set of relationships that people hold with the texts{71}* that constitute organizations to which they belong.{72}* Further, Foucault’s idea that the more invisible the power is, the more effective it is resonates with Mumby’s statement about assumptions, as well as the views expressed by Hall, Gramsci, and others.{i}*

Deetz (1982) suggests the goals of critical scholarship are to gain a richer understanding of naturally occurring events, to criticize systematically distorted communication and false consensus (the result of insufficient whying; see Adorno, 1989a, p. 133), and to work to expand the intellectual, cognitive horizon from which organizational members think and work. In order to do this, I suggest the “horizon” must be made more apparent than it often is, and expanded to better accommodate (maybe someday even welcome) those with atypical or unorthodox (i.e., strange, weird, etc.) approaches.

In a departure from those critical theorists who focus almost entirely on issues of domination and oppression, Foucault (1980) examined the codes and theories of order by which societies operate (see Manning, 1989, p. 213 and 232), and suggested that power is not domination, rather Foucault made a distinction between the two.{73}*  In the Foucauldian scheme, power is viewed not simply as a pervasive force, but also a productive, creative one. Foucault asks, “If power were never anything but repressive, if it never did anything but to say no, do you really think one would be brought to obey it?” (1980, p. 119).{74}* In attempting to describe the (SINS) STRUCTURES, INSTITUTIONALIZATIONS, NATURALIZATIONS, SIMULATIONS in place in the IRB regulatory system, I will utilize questions set forth by Foucault in 1972 (see Table 1, Appendix A, p. 345) to assist in the exploration of IRB discourse related to regulations, guidance documents, sanctions, evaluations, and other discursive formations within the system.

Loss of Foundations (Habermas’ Legitimation Crisis).{75}* In the first of two views about the loss of foundations and grand narratives described by Alvesson and Deetz (1996), they suggest some analysts hold that foundations and narratives have always been a hoax. They have been used (often unknowingly and in ways that are unacknowledged and unarticulated, i.e., mindlessly) to support a dominant worldview.  The second position focuses on “growing social incredulity” (p. 211) toward foundations and grand narratives; Lyotard (1984), for example, demonstrated the decline of grand narratives of spirit, emancipation, patriotism, etc.

Growing public skepticism (or astuteness) added to the proliferation of the profit motive in research and the record of atrocities in (almost exclusively medical or military/medical) research, can be associated with what Habermas (1975) termed “legitimation crises.”  Deetz (1985) suggests legitimation appears “in the rationalization of decisions and practices through the invocation of higher-order explanatory devices ” (p. 127; see also NIH, 2001, p. 1, regarding “Decision Trees”) and argues Habermas (1975) has “convincingly” demonstrated motivation and high productivity have been sustained in the Western world more by the Protestant work ethic (i.e., the belief that work is preferable or more valuable or virtuous than play, that leisure and family time are expendable in the face of work, or adages about idle hands and devil’s work){76}* than by intrinsic work experiences (see also Weber, 1930, who shows how one group’s set of social norms can become infused into the wider socio-cultural context). Lyotard’s (1984) view suggests only local narratives exist, leading to explorations of how stories in organizations connect to legitimizing narratives and how some are more local, situational in nature (see Martin 1990; Deetz, 1997, 1998). Others have used this position to illustrate the false certainty in management narratives (Jehenson, 1984; Ingersoll & Adams, 1986; Carter & Jackson 1987). The rise of “performativity”{77}* occurs when measures of means toward social ends become ends in themselves and when new forms of control arise, directed not by a desire for social good but simply by more production and consumption, according to Alvesson and Deetz (1996, p. 209). I believe the IRB system has clearly arrived at this point, i.e., means overshadow ends, process has supplanted purpose.

Proliferation of private free enterprise (as an activity and as a value) encroaches on other realms of “real” life, including politics (PACs, for example), education (we now teach  “marketable skills” in the continuation of the “vo-teching” of the university), and on even deeper levels, including the human consumption of animals and their habitat, and our own habitat including air, water, earth, and space. According to Mumford, (1970), “Western society has accepted as unquestionable a technological imperative that is quite as arbitrary as the most primitive taboo:  not merely the duty to foster invention and constantly to create technological novelties, but equally the duty to surrender to these novelties unconditionally, just because they are offered, without respect to their human consequences” (p.185-186). The right-to-make-a-profit-at-any-cost mentality is prevalent.

With respect to the IRB regulatory system, it seems, when these are in conflict, that we favor process over purpose, maintaining the status quo over development and implementation of new ideas, and compliance over critique. We are conforming to (at best) a pointless system of protection (and in some cases a potentially debilitating system) rather than rebelling against it. Why don’t we ignore it? Engage in passive rebellion? Encourage our colleagues and students to ignore (certain ill-fitting and meaningless parts of) the system? Insist that our professional organizations endorse the ignoring of these (selected) rules? Why don’t we act as if this is possible?{78}*

Because the IRB system is highly political (as will also be shown), I suspect federal regulators, (once the momentum of the rebellion is apparent){79}*, would perhaps move quickly to dismantle the system (as it pertains to “minimal risk” studies, as described and defined by the federal government) and claim credit for what might be spun as a system “innovation."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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