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What Sorts of Ethical Issues Do Linguistic Anthropologists Face?

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The ethical issues facing any social scientist can be daunting. Ever since the reflexive turn in anthropology three decades ago, however, linguistic anthropologists have given a great deal of thought to the micro-politics of personal relations in the field and the ethical dimensions of representing the people and communities they study in scholarly or popular articles, books, and presentations. There is often unequal power between the researcher and the people they study – though this relationship can be extremely complex, so all the power may not reside in the researcher alone. Still, researchers frequently have more money than research subjects, and they often create an entire career out of the information gathered from the people who live in their fieldsites. When genuinely close relationships of trust, friendship, or fictive kinship develop, complicated questions can emerge regarding mutual obligations, betrayal, and confidentiality. Many anthropologists have written about the theoretical, ethical, and personal implications of these issues.

Much of the research conducted by academics on human subjects must be reviewed by the Institutional Review Board (IRB) of their university or research institute and, sometimes, also by review boards overseas. The IRB review process grew out of some horrific abuses of research, mostly in the biomedical field. As a result, many anthropologists and other social scientists consider IRB oversight of their research to be unnecessary and/or focused on irrelevant matters (such as providing access to experimental medicines in an ethical manner).7 The American Anthropological Association (AAA) revised its code of ethics in 2012,8 and many anthropologists consider these guidelines to be more appropriate for their research – and sometimes even stricter – than the policies enforced by IRBs.

Even the AAA’s 2012 Statement on Ethics, however, is intentionally vague in some places and controversial in others. For example, it makes the following seemingly straightforward statement:

A primary ethical obligation shared by anthropologists is to do no harm. It is imperative that, before any anthropological work be undertaken – in communities, with non-human primates or other animals, at archaeological and paleoanthropological sites – each researcher think through the possible ways that the research might cause harm. Among the most serious harms that anthropologists should seek to avoid are harm to dignity, and to bodily and material well-being, especially when research is conducted among vulnerable populations. Anthropologists should not only avoid causing direct and immediate harm but also should weigh carefully the potential consequences and inadvertent impacts of their work. When it conflicts with other responsibilities, this primary obligation can supersede the goal of seeking new knowledge and can lead to decisions to not undertake or to discontinue a project.9

But if anthropologists are studying, say, child abusers or corrupt politicians (and some do study such groups), should these anthropologists’ primary ethical obligation be to their research subjects or to the victims of their research subjects? What does it mean to “do no harm”?

Both the AAA’s Statement on Ethics and all IRBs across the United States advocate “informed consent.” That is, the researcher is expected to inform each research subject fully about the nature of the study and obtain consent from each participant. This process is fairly straightforward in studies that involve something like filling out a single questionnaire, provided that the study takes place in a society such as the United States, where most people are familiar with the concept of a research study. Research subjects merely read the informed consent statement at the beginning of the questionnaire, and if they want to participate, they sign the paper or otherwise indicate their consent. When the research takes place in a different society, however, one in which people are less familiar with research projects, or when the research involves long-term participant observation, resulting in the researcher’s living in a particular community for a year or longer, such a one-time informed consent process is usually inappropriate. When deep personal bonds are formed, it is often tricky for the researcher to determine which information is appropriate to use in the research and which is not. In such instances, therefore, the informed consent process needs to be ongoing and adapted to the particular setting in which the research takes place.

Other difficult ethical questions linguistic anthropologists (and other researchers) sometimes face include the following:

 Should research assistants be paid the going rate (if there is such a thing) of the country in which the research takes place, or a fair wage according to US standards?

 What constitutes appropriate reciprocity for all of the information, advice, and assistance researchers receive from people in their fieldsites? If a researcher is treated as a son or daughter, for example, does that mean that they should take on all the obligations of that role in that society, including, perhaps, keeping in touch regularly after leaving the field and taking on the care of parents in their old age?

 What are the ethical obligations of a researcher who is “studying up” (Nader 1972) in a community of individuals who are far wealthier and more powerful than the researchers themselves?

 Must a researcher provide medical or financial assistance to everyone who asks for such help? Only some people? No one at all? Why or why not?

 How should researchers behave when confronted by behavior they find morally repugnant? Should they respect different cultural norms or apply universal standards of human rights?

 Is “applied” or “engaged” research10 more ethical than so-called “pure” research?

Do “practicing anthropologists” avoid any of the ethical dilemmas facing academic researchers? What ethical issues are unique to applied research? Does all applied research involve the same kinds of ethical considerations? For example, does a linguistic anthropologist working on preserving an endangered language face the same ethical quandaries as a linguistic anthropologist working as a speech writer for a politician?

Linguistic anthropologists interpret and answer these types of questions differently, and of course answering them in the abstract does not necessarily make it easy to decide what one should do in an actual situation, for the specific details of actual cases are usually extremely complex. Nevertheless, acknowledging the presence of thorny ethical issues in any research is often the first step toward resolving such issues satisfactorily.

The research process for linguistic anthropologists differs relatively little from that of other social scientists. They must formulate compelling research questions, and yet remain open to the revision of those questions as data collection and analysis move forward. They must also decide which methods will gather the right kind of information to enable the answering of their research questions. Along the way, they must resolve the ethical dilemmas that will inevitably emerge. Finally, linguistic anthropologists must sort through the data that they have collected in order to detect patterns, interpret meanings, and write up results.

It is often said that research is partial in both senses of the word – partial as in only part of the full story, and partial as in biased. This absolutely applies to research in linguistic anthropology. What is less often appreciated, however, is that this is true of all experiences that we have in life. Nevertheless, for all its complexities, research in linguistic anthropology can be exhilarating.

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