INTRODUCTION

The ‘new’ sociology of childhood has involved an ontological shift towards young people as competent social actors, with the right to be involved in decision-making affecting their lives. Children and young people are seen as being in possession of knowledge, skills and capabilities, as active agents. In a research context, this requires critical reflection on adultism and associated power and position. A range of methods (see Vaughn & Jacquez, 2020 for a full review of the wide range of participatory methods) considered ‘participatory’ has become de rigueur in this paradigm, with interest derived from their common commitment to deconstructing power relations, challenging conventional processes of knowledge production and maintaining a position of researching with, rather than researching on (Coyne & Carter, 2018; O'Kane, 2000).

This participative orientation comes with a long and intimate relationship to activism. The common, and often taken-for-granted, methodological position is that participatory methods, in a general sense, have the capacity to democratise knowledge construction. Under the umbrella of participatory methods, there is a broad desire to work relationally with children and young people, starting ‘where they are at’ to identify questions and address issues significant to them. Literature demonstrates that, when used effectively, participatory methods can create possibilities for engaged, ethical, active social science and equitable and creative use of method (recent examples of the diversity of work in this field include James & Shaw, 2022; Williams, 2021; Burke et al., 2019).

The relevance of participatory research is growing in UK academia, with research funders increasingly advocating for its use to strengthen research impact (see, e.g. UKRI, 2022). This is supported by the broader development of ‘engaged scholarship’ and its epistemological concern with community-engaged teaching and research. While not all engaged scholarship is necessarily ‘activist’ (Flood et al., 2013, see also Torres, 2019), academia (and academic researchers) can be a productive site for activism in multiple ways: by producing knowledge to inform progressive social change; by conducting research that involves social change; by creating spaces for progressive teaching and learning and finally, as a site which institutionally can resist and challenge social inequalities and injustices.

Creating sites or spaces for ‘activism’ (we will return to how we define activism shortly) is at the heart of the Binks Hub. Launched in 2022 and interdisciplinary in form, the aim of the Binks Hub is to support, promote and deliver transformative, co-creative research. Funded by the Binks Trust, the Hub seeks to bring together communities, artists and academics to support and conduct research that promotes social justice and makes a difference in people's lives. Methodological inquiry in this context means viewing individuals and groups as equals when it comes to sharing and developing knowledge. It means that rather than conducting research on participants, our future research will prioritise collaboration with citizens and community members. Across all our work, a range of participatory and creative approaches will be utilised to support citizens and groups involvement in research on issues that affect them. It also means that the public, government and policy actors will be engaged in this conversation so as to raise the profile of citizen and community-led research.

One of the key methodological observations we made when establishing the Binks Hub was that interest in participatory research methods was gaining pace in the UK. Policymakers were becoming interested in what was increasingly referred to as ‘lived experience’ (see, e.g. The Scottish Government, 2022; Abbott & Wilson, 2014; McIntosh & Wright, 2019). At the same time, ‘co-produced’ and ‘creative’ research methods were more prevalent among research funding in the UK. The Arts and Humanities Research Council's Connected Communities programme is a key example, funding over 300 projects each committed to co-production, participation and community university (Facer & Pahl, 2017). In an academic setting, there was also much to celebrate. An internal mapping exercise conducted to support the Hub's establishment demonstrated a wealth of interdisciplinary community led-research across the University using a range of participatory methods. The Childhood and Youth Studies Research Group, based in the Moray House School of Education and Sport at the University of Edinburgh has, for example, been leaders in this field in the context of childhood and youth studies for decades; this special issue is just one example of their work.

In spite of this momentum, we have observed that the UK model for higher education (often referred to as a neo-liberal regime, see Maisuria & Cole, 2017) can act as a constraining force. Research funding is too often short-term and offers insufficient time for relationships to organically develop (and be sustained) with citizens and community groups. The focus on institutional growth for commercial and monetary gain has had the consequence of burgeoning administrative workloads which limit the time academic researchers can meaningfully spend in communities. Participatory research, despite being praised, can in practical terms sit in conflict within university structures driven by annual reporting, quantitatively driven key performance indicators (KPIs) and scholarly outputs. Dedicating time to relationships with institutional requirements and funding cultivates activism and impact. Such spaces have particular characteristics: slowness, patience, starts, stops, interruptions and interferences. They follow what Sassen (2014) describes as spaces before method, which necessitates spending time reflecting on prevailing concepts and frameworks before undertaking empirical work. In our application of this concept, we see such spaces as critical to those working with participatory approaches, especially for those working with children and young people and/or for groups who are marginalised in some way.

Such practices, especially if unfunded, can sit in opposite to the principles and practices increasingly prevalent in UK Universities that value marketisation, turnover and accountability. This raises two issues for the Binks Hub. The first is how, as a fledging initiative, we navigate and challenge neo-liberal principles and practices. The second, and connected question, is how we position our work relative to ‘activism’. What does activist research mean in the current higher education context, and to what extent will we be able to regard our work as a form of scholarly activism, or ourselves as activist- scholars?

To consider our own path forwards, we have selected three past empirical case studies that employed participatory research methods. Two were doctoral studies, and one was a small-scale enquiry focused on social work practice. We selected these completed projects as a means of reflecting on how, as researchers within Russell Group University, we have navigated the challenges discussed above. Brought together they provide material for a reflective dialogue about participatory methods and their complex relationship to activism, and in turn, how we can advance our own theoretical and methodological practice. We are inspired by the work of Maunther and Doucet (2003) who note that while the importance of being reflexive is often discussed, less attention is given to actually doing reflexivity. We have used this approach elsewhere and found it to be a productive means of engaging in our methodological practice and its relationship to theory (Davidson and McMellon, 2021, see also Davidson et al., 2021 and Wright et al., 2021).

We begin with a short contextual section which provides a broad overview of participatory research, and second, activism. Here we do not provide a full overview of the diverse range of participatory research methods, nor do we give a decisive definition of ‘activism’ or ‘activist research’ (see Taft and O'Kane (2023) in this collection for a fuller analysis). Rather, our intent is to provoke reflection in the context of our own work. With this framework established, we move on to present three empirical case studies which draw on past research completed by the authors. We do not introduce the entire research project for any of the case studies and thus you will not see a full research cycle from design to knowledge exchange. Instead, we focus on particular unique phases, moments, experiences and challenges that emerged as part of our engagement in participatory research. The final sections draw the analysis together to reflect critically on our past engagement in participatory research and its relationship to ‘activism’. Through this active process of reflexivity, our hope is that it informs the development of the new Binks Hub and our engagement in activist research more widely.

YOUNG PEOPLE AND PARTICIPATORY RESEARCH

In their review of participatory research, Cornwall and Jewkes (1995) ask a fundamental question, ‘if all research involves participation, what makes research participatory?’ (p 1668). As with all answers to social research dilemmas, the answer is ‘it depends'. We are in agreement with Bourke (2009) who notes there are ‘no strict rules for what constitutes participatory research or even clarity about the essential ingredient’ (p. 458). Rather how you decide what makes research participatory depends on who you ask, where and when they are and the motivations and aims of the social enquiry being conducted.

This is an important starting point since it recognises that participatory research is a broad umbrella under which a number of collaborative, inclusive or action-based research methods and approaches are located. It can span a continuum of project types and can be undertaken in many ways. Participatory research involving young people has, for example, focused on listening to children and young people's experiences (Clark, 2012), involving them in consultations (Minds, 2021; Ofsted and Care Quality Commission, 2022), acting as lead researchers or co-researchers (e.g. Cuevas-Parra & Tisdall, 2019; Hunleth, 2011; Lee et al., 2020) and engaging them in participatory advisory groups (Collins et al., 2020).

Figure 1 shows the continuum of participatory research involving young people. Note we have deliberately included a double-ended arrow to illustrate that levels of involvement can vary within individual projects, with research becoming more or less participatory at different stages of the research (Brown, 2022). It also helps to remind us that each form of research is valid; it does not get ‘better’ as it becomes more participatory.

Figure 1 also shows that significant components of participatory research are ethical, methodological and political values and principles. Participatory research is respected for its capacity to prioritise ‘lived experiences’ and disrupt power imbalances. It is regarded as interactive rather than extractive, and thus inclusive and ethical, and can happen in a range of different spaces—from schools, public institutions, community organisations and social movements. For Foster (2016), the collaborative process provides ‘new’ ways of seeing and the ability to defamiliarise the ordinary and expose the ways that the everyday are shaped by powerful social structures. A central objective is knowledge democracy, wherein the knowledge and epistemologies of marginalised groups and communities are not simply given respect, but considered essential to supporting civic engagement (Ginwright et al., 2006) delivering social change (Janes, 2018) or empowering communities (Hacker, 2013).

The language of social change is strongest, not surprisingly, within forms of ‘action research’ (Figure 1). Examples of such forms of research include youth participatory action research (YPAR) and community-based participatory research (see, e.g. Anyon et al., 2018; Hacker, 2013). These are forms of participatory research that involve researchers and young people working collaboratively with the explicit objective of taking action, including social change. Kemmis and McTaggart (2005, p.597) suggest that participatory action research ‘aims to help people recover, and release themselves, from the constraints of irrational, unproductive, unjust, and unsatisfying social structures that limit their self-development and self-determination’. Explicit connections to activism are made within ‘critical’ forms of action research (CPAR), with research in this field being focused on ‘documenting, challenging, and transforming conditions of social injustice’ (Fine & Torre, 2021, p. 3). Critical approaches are a move towards a ‘decolonising’ research method with the potential for healing and social justice (Chilisa, 2012, p. 251).

The broad participatory research praxis and its rhetoric of empowerment have been subject to discussion. O'Neill's work, which explored the transformative potential of participatory arts, noted this approach is ‘difficult to put into action, is time consuming, and involves lots of time, energy, commitment and emotional labour’ (2012, p. 170). There are further debates relating to the relationship participatory approaches have to power and action. This can be ambiguous since not all participatory projects will necessarily have an explicit focus on shifting or challenging power or find ‘power’ difficult to resolve through method alone. Similarly, participatory methods in themselves do not tackle social injustice or necessarily empower it (Davidson, 2017). The imagining of collaborative research as producing ‘better’ or more ‘ethical’ types of knowledge about young people is problematic since they can also fail to reflect on the views of those unable, unwilling or excluded from participation.

ACTION, ACTIVISM AND ACTIVIST RESEARCH

We have discussed the complex relationship that participatory research methods, especially those considered ‘action’ research, have with social change. Despite ‘action’ being a key element of participatory research, it is one of the most challenging aspects of our work to define, achieve and measure (Bertrand et al., 2020; Guy et al., 2020). In the broadest sense ‘action’ is the process of doing something, typically to achieve some sort of aim. Most often in the context of participatory research this ‘aim’ involves positive change or improvement, although ‘action’ is often ill-defined, or used—not always helpfully—interchangeably with ‘social change’ (Reid et al., 2006, pp. 316–317). Moreover, there are also too often assumptions about how action should be defined and achieved. Often this is action at a macro or collective level. This, Reid et al. (2006) argue, is problematic since expectations within a collaborative project can vary significantly and result in small, micro-level forms of action going unnoticed or undervalued. Social change at this scale can come in the form of unexpected new relationships, attitudinal change, and new expectations.

There are also expectations about what constitutes ‘action’ within higher education. Better understood as research ‘impact’, in the UK context this is defined as work that has ‘an effect on, change or benefit to the economy, society, culture, public policy or services, health, the environment or quality of life, beyond academia’ (Research Excellence Framework, 2021, p. 68). While such aspirations are not in themselves problematic, they arguably establish expectations within the research community about the nature and magnitude of impact that has the greatest value. This is significant given the focus that funding bodies and research councils give to demonstrating impact.

Complexities exist in how activism is defined and understood. As with participatory research, activism is motivated by a desire to make a difference and address common problems. Ballard and Ozer (2016, p. 1) define youth activism as ‘the organized efforts of groups of young people to address the root causes of problems in their local, national, and global communities’, noting that it can come in many forms ‘including, in person or virtual, grassroots or joining an established organisation or cause, one-time participation or long-term commitment’. From a popular perspective, such a description is typically associated with visible, loud and direct action, outwardly looking activities, such as protests and demonstrations, strikes, sit-ins, consumer boycotts or non-violent civil disobedience. However, activism need not be synonymous with direct action, and from the perspective of young people themselves, such understandings can be limiting. Taft (2011, p. 33) discusses the multiplicity of forms that activism can take and pushes for a widening of definitional boundaries to ensure that a diversity of ideas and forms are considered as part of the ‘change’ or outcomes being sought. Simon and Norton (2011) likewise state that ‘activism’ can rarely fit into a single definition, arguing instead for a continuum which accounts for its different forms and outcomes. For academics, this complexity extends into their own identity. Where on the continuum should one's work be situated? Should one seek to conduct scholar-activism as and when required (something you do), or present a permanent commitment to being a scholar-activist (something you are) (Joseph-Salisbury & Connelly, 2021:51)? Tempered radicalism offers an alternative relationship to power, representing approaches which seek to change the system (in our case higher education) while remaining part of it (Meyerson & Scully, 1995).

Interestingly, the activism continuum can also include what Pottinger (2017) carefully describes as ‘modest, quotidian acts of kindness, connection and creativity’ (p. 217). Such ‘quiet activism’ encompasses small, everyday and mundane actions. This may take place at an individual scale, yet retain huge potential for delivering ‘change’. This echoes Stenning's (2020) work on austerity, which emphasises the importance of paying attention to the small stuff—the little effects, the little acts and the little affects—as a means of understanding ‘big’ structural processes. Little acts by households, she concluded, made a difference emotionally and helped provide a sense of (although limited) control and autonomy. Winter et al. (2020) drew similar conclusions, reporting forms of ‘quiet activism’ in a school setting. Examples included staff giving children extra food at lunch time, providing hygiene packs to families (with staff often paying for this themselves) and simply ‘caring’. Corey (2021), similarly, emphasises the ways in which silence can speak and have power in activism. Acts of care, emotional support and silence resistance may be small in scale, but no less political or potent in their intent.

In a similar way, we can think about the intimacies formed in, and around, activism, and shine a light on the back stage activities that for Reid et al. (2006) go unnoticed. O'Shaughnessy and Kennedy (2010) use the term ‘relational activism’ to describe a host of activities, ranging from working with community members to teach tomato canning, through to fixing bikes, and volunteering at community events. These might not be conventionally ‘activist’, but rather be in service to more public acts of activism. Such a service helps build bridges in the private sphere which in turn foster trust, emotional ties and comradery in communities and between activists, and support change in daily practices and lifestyle. In a collection by Zaunseder et al. (2022), a range of grassroots activities are described as spaces where collectivity, solidarity, community, resistance and reclamation can occur. This work is a useful reminder that large-scale change is the product of the ripples of small-scale, collective action (O'Shaughnessy & Kennedy, 2010, p. 555).

Ideas of quiet, micro, small, relational or backstage activism take us back to thinking about the ‘value’ assigned to particular kinds of action within research. Reid et al. (2006) discuss the challenges of finding action in participatory research, arguing that too often there is an ‘idealised’ expectation that research delivers large-scale change to structures and macro social processes (p. 317). This, they continue, means that there is less space for forms of action that are smaller, or ‘quieter’. These might be impacts that affect an individual or a group or might be an impact that is only significant at a local level. Such expectations are apparent in the UK Research Excellence Framework (2021) where the ‘best’ impact tends to prioritise examples of macro change, such as being able to demonstrate that your research has influenced policymaking or legislative change. While we (as a group of academic researchers) are concerned with, and interested in enabling the small, quiet forms of activism, these can conflict with the dominant institutional ideology of what type of ‘action’ counts.

For academic researchers, this is tricky terrain to navigate since these smaller or quieter forms of activism are often unplanned and happen before a proposal is written and funded, or happen after the research is formally concluded. So, for example, this might be initial time spent in potential research settings, making connections and networks to on-the-ground experts. As the research focus becomes firmer, it might involve ‘being there’, ‘hanging out’, having conversations and sharing experiences. If the research is funded and able to formally proceed, finances can limit the extent to which researchers are able to have conversations and interactions that have no clear outcome or ‘impact’ measure attached to them. At the end, once formal research funding ends, opportunities to continue collaborative knowledge exchange activities can be limited. Even with best intentions, academics can find themselves unable to sustain relationships with partners. We are not suggesting that individuals and groups involved in research need researchers to remain, indefinitely, in a research setting. Our concern is that funding regimes and associated expectations about impact can leave little space for established relationships to be maintained. The question begs, where does this leave those involved? Some, full of excitement, capacity and resources move forward without any need/desire for an academic partner, others perhaps are left hanging without adequate support to continue their activism, in whatever form it takes.

A CRITICAL REFLECTIVE DIALOGUE—INTRODUCING THE CASES

Having set out this maze of ideas about participatory research and activism, we move on to a reflective review of completed participatory research projects. Each of the three case studies described uses participatory methods with young people. While none were explicitly focused on activism, nor involved young people who considered themselves ‘activists’, this reflective exercise has encouraged us to pay closer attention to the role, place and value of ‘activism’, and its relationship to participatory methods, and method more generally. In particular, it has enabled us to think more clearly about how to effectively use participatory research methods while balancing our desire to be responsible methodologists alongside the constraints of the higher education system.

DISCUSSION: FINDING A WAY THROUGH THE MAZE

The research case studies shared in this article are not explicitly on or about activism, nor are they activist endeavours. However, we approached our research with an understanding of the injustices present, and a desire for young people to make sense of their own experiences and contribute to change at different levels. In Davidson's case, this was the categorisation of places and people as ‘antisocial’ and the absence of young people's views and opinions herein. For Roesch-Marsh, injustice was towards the continued and long-standing understandings of care-experienced young people as marginalised and vulnerable, and for Wright, the research was in response to ‘adulist’ critiques about the nature and form of participatory research, and the notion that ‘play’ be categorised as childlike, and therefore not valuable in young people's lives or as part of a robust research process. Each project engaged young people in relational practice with intended and unintended dialogues around critical social justice issues. Interactions and activities considered precursors to, or in service to, activism emerged in organic forms where time and space, without traditional restrictions, allowed. Sassen's (2014) ‘space before method’ is a particularly helpful way of conceptualising the common reflections in these three pieces of work. The ‘space before method’ starts from a position of epistemic indignation about the way in which concepts or categories are explained, and the ways in which knowledge around this idea is constructed. While for Sassen (2014), this involved a de-theorisation of concepts before the disciplining of method, we reflect on the ‘the space before’ as a critical phase to ‘disrupt’ normative linear fast-paced research, foster relationships and allow for new possibilities. We also extend the concept to include the ‘space beyond method’—that is the time and resources necessary to either sustain the research relationship, or exit meaningfully.

Common to all cases was the significant amount of time required before the implementation of method. This variously involved hanging out, ‘chilling’ and informal or messy conversations. Within participatory research projects relationships building prior to the research commencing ‘properly’ is not uncommon, and indeed, such activity can be considered the ‘bread and butter’ of ethnographic and community-based methods. We argue that these activities can be underfunded and the significant time researchers invest in this type of work often goes unrecognised. While this time, to some extent, was built into the doctoral research (cases 1 and 3), the eNurture study (case 2) required a pre-application consultation. This activity became critical to the success of the research, but as noted was unfunded and unresourced. What we see across all three cases is that dedicated time to build relational spaces is not just crucial for ethical and respectful practice but for delivering research impact. Certainly, in our experience, it was often in these spaces that the greatest creativity, energy and meaning was evoked.

To push Sassen's metaphor further, these were also spaces that did not just exist before method, but were also ‘betwixt and between’. For Davidson, this meant time spent throughout the research hanging out at the youth club or bumping into someone in the street on the way home. For Wright, it involved the ‘messy’ and playful conversations between more structured sessions. For these interactions to take place, researchers need more of the thing they lack the most—time. While both Davidson and Wright reflected on past PhD work where there was greater flexibility in how time was spent in the field, this is often not the case in more traditional grants and research. This points to the need to have time built into research grants that can accommodate messiness, re-direction and quiet points of reflection both before, during and after the project formally ends. Planned endings—although not discussed in our cases—are vital for ensuring individuals, groups and communities do not have expectations raised and as a consequence feel their own sense of epistemic injustice (as in Roesch-Marsh's case the group were worried that she was just another researcher coming to ‘consult’ with them).

What we found emergent from these liminal spaces was the potential for small ripples to form ‘beyond method’. Such examples include the young people in Davidson's research working with a local artist to prepare their exhibition, something that they had previously never had the opportunity to do, and for many, represented the first time their voices had been shared with adult professionals. In Roesch-Marsh's work, it is the small local advisory group shaping the production of an animated film that will train social workers and improve future practice. Finally, in Wright's case, we see the Emerging Researchers engaging in active dialogue about inequality and activism, discussions that have the potential to shape their own future activism. In these ripples, we see the relationship between our work and activist research. As we have discussed, activism can look and feel different, in different contexts. Importantly, it can be small, private and quiet. For each case, we might describe the interactions taking place as occupying the ‘space before activism’. Like the space before method, this is a zone in which ideas, taken–for-granted assumptions and normative behaviours can be discussed, challenged and perhaps, transformed in a way that benefits social change. Even in the case of Davidson's research, where engagement with marginalised young men was challenging, spaces were found that recognised and prioritised views previously unheard. But it also provided—in the smallest of ways—space for behaviour negatively affecting a community to be discussed and challenged in a supportive environment.

Relationships were crucial for the creation and sustainability of these spaces. Relational approaches to research emphasise the importance of building bridges between the researcher and participant. Knowledge is produced together and ‘what is revealed emerges out of a constantly evolving, negotiated, dynamic, co-created relational process to which both researcher and participant co-researcher contribute’ (Finlay, 2009, p. 2). The work to establish trust, safety and rapport is essential for this type of research to be possible. In a similar way, relational activism, as we have discussed, emphasises ‘the acts behind activism’, including bridge-building activities in the private sphere which foster trust, emotional ties and comradery in communities and between activists (O'Shaughnessy & Kennedy, 2010). This approach also asserts that ‘relationships have greater agency than individual actors’ and that large-scale change can only be achieved collectively (O'Shaughnessy & Kennedy, 2010, p. 555).

Participatory research at the earlier point in the continuum, we suggest, can foster space for dialogue to emerge for things that could potentially be a form of activism, or become such later. Nielson and Jörgensen (2018) point to the importance of reflecting on the need to be a responsible methodologist, and recognising both the limits of activist research and the power that research can have without explicit activism. Speed (2006) has suggested that activist researchers are not critiqued for failing to sustain critical analysis or ‘objectivity’, but rather because they become too centred on immediate political objectives (p. 73). For Nielson and Jörgensen (2018), this can result in researchers missing opportunities to contribute to longer-term social transformation, or indeed, being able to provide new explanatory frameworks that expose deeper forms of power and injustice. This is not unlike the type of objective that Sassen (2014) set out to expose in her ‘space before method’. More broadly, within this space, there is an opportunity for us to all slow down and have more time to consider more complex aspects of social life. As Davidson's case reveals power is always present, and by involving one group you may be inculcated in the silencing of another. This encourages us to trouble and (re)consider normative understandings of participatory methodologies and young people's activism, through critical exploration of practice. Through this practice, we maintain our responsibilities as methodologists.

Our final concluding point relates to our roles as researchers within higher education. We are mindful of our power (and lack of power) and privilege as early and mid-career female researchers in permanent positions within Russell Group University. Our reflective practice may therefore bring an idealism about what we wish to achieve for the Hub's vision of positive social change and human flourishing that is rooted in and against the institutional space we operate in. As researchers committed to ‘the space before/beyond method’ and ‘the space before/beyond activism’, it is challenging when we do not have time to invest in new research relationships or are unable to maintain relationships when funding ends. It is also vexing when ‘research excellence’ renders relational activities less important, or worse, invisible within academic criteria and progression. Nonetheless, our privileged positioning can also be used to create space, as it has already begun to do so with more prioritisation of participatory research and co-production within research strategies, to trouble the constraints of the academy and hold space for participants and co-researchers to creatively move diverse forms of research and activism forward. We recommend greater individual and collective action across academic spaces to value and allow for slow processes, the possibilities of what may arise, and the beauty of non-action activism. Our work shows the importance of time (planned and unplanned), resources and slow processes. It acknowledges the ‘action’ that can come from the space before-activism and participatory research and the possibility that the small, quiet ripples might travel beyond and affect long-lasting transformation.

CONFLICT OF INTEREST STATEMENT

There is no conflict of interest to disclose from any author.