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A Review by Martin Barker
This is an important
new book. Schrøder et al. (I hope the other authors will forgive
this abbreviation for the purposes of this review) offer us an
enormously knowledgeable, highly detailed and well-exemplified study
of the several traditions of research that have historically helped
form audience studies. They pay in particular detailed attention to
the practices of the research, to the methods of
data-gathering or materials-gathering, and to the various procedures
of analysis which have been developed. For this attention, it is as
far as I know the first of its kind. It is also, I hope to show, in
some important respects rather interestingly problematic.
Divided into four
main sections, their book organises the audience research field into
four main traditions. These are, first, an ethnographic tradition,
where the emphasis is on the imbrication of media use into the whole
social fabric – all our lives being permeated by systems and
structures of meaning-making, research must necessarily examine the
way our activities as audiences are interwoven with the rest of
social and cultural life. Second, there is what they call a
'reception studies' tradition, in which the focus of attention is on
the acts of interpretation or 'decoding' that audiences undertake
when faced with particular texts or genres of texts. The third
tradition they distinguish is a survey tradition, whose fundamental
aim is to map the spread, frequency, and location of particular
kinds of audience. And finally they tackle an 'experimental'
tradition – which they associate strongly with the American
'effects' tradition. The first two, then, are essentially
qualitative, the second two are quantitative. This is an interesting
way to organise the field, and all ways are to some extent arbitrary
and open to question. Here, it is worth noting that the choice of
'reception studies' introduces a small clash with the recent
tendency to use that title for the European/American tradition which
originated in reader-reception theory, and then transported itself
into film studies via people like Janet Staiger and Barbara Klinger
– where the emphasis has increasingly been on the study of publicly
circulated framing discourses. (I wonder if some day
Participations is going to have to sponsor a short conference to
try to clarify our naming tendencies. It is a clear mark of the
state of our field that there are such naming difficulties – we
simply have not talked with each other enough.) The other clash
resulting from these 'namings' is that there is no real place for
the work of people such as Philip Schlesinger and David Morrison,
who have recently been devising experimental conditions for
exploring how people interpret and use the idea of 'violence'. It is
a matter worth thought whether this is just an accidental by-product
of an inevitable need to somehow organise the book, or whether the
absence of the latter in particular may reveal something important
about the book.
The book opens quite
provocatively, with a reframing of the main traditions, and with a
challenge. Drawing on James Carey and Brenda Dervin, they offer an
overall framing of audience research as a running debate between two
broad conceptualisations of audiences' relations to the media:
'transmission' (referencing a linear model of communication) and
'dialogue' (referencing a transactional model). But while Dervin in
the end wants to negate the transmission model, Schrøder et al.
'preach methodological pluralism': 'This book is based on the belief
that people who are going to work as professional communicators or
communication researchers would not benefit from drawing this
conclusion. We take the view that the communication process should
be conceptualized through the optics of different models, and that
within such an eclectic perspective there is a role to be played by
both the transmission and the dialogic model.' (p. 15) I will argue
later that while at some levels this openness is welcome, it
contains unacknowledged difficulties which we would do well at least
to bring into the open.
Perhaps a start can
be made on seeing why it is an issue by noting that in the second
chapter the authors move on to question a second – and as they see
it related (p. 17) – opposition between the paradigms of
quantitative and qualitative research. I must say that I found their
discussion of this opposition very well framed and helpful. Their
conclusion, both here and in their summation at the end of the book,
is that the opposition between the two paradigms is unnecessary and
unhelpful. I believe that they are right in this – but that this is
more distinct from the transmission/dialogic distinction than they
allow.
Schrøder et al.
then distinguish their four main routes through which audience
research has travelled. They use the work of Thomas Tufte (a
nicely-chosen example) to illustrate ethnographic research. It
thereby becomes clear that they are using the term 'ethnography' to
mean almost what others might mean by 'participant observation' –
although with an added emphasis on the use of multiple means of
investigation and recording. I have some sympathy, I have to say,
with this quiet ducking of some of the debates around the meaning of
'ethnography', which can convey an air of possessiveness (don't use
the term unless you are prepared to live up to my criteria for it).
But it does mean that they are not tempted to call the work of
people like David Morley or even Janice Radway 'ethnographic'. This,
instead, they class as 'reception research', by which they say they
mean the investigation of the meanings of media to audiences through
an analysis of their talk.
Their estimation of
the strengths and limits of ethnographic research is a wise one.
They note (p. 84) the way its very multidimensional approach presses
researchers to move away from examining individual media, instead
examining a whole ecology in which audiences are enveloped. But in
the opposite direction the increasing tendency of audience
communities to be physically dispersed (communicating on-line, for
instance) makes traditional ethnographic participation very much
more complicated, perhaps impossible.
One of the strengths of this book is its
willingness to try, wherever possible, to step beyond the boundaries
of academic research (although, as they themselves say at several
points, one of the problems in doing so is how secretive most
commercial researchers are). And they also note that reception
research, despite its primarily academic – and supposedly very
political – origins, is now finding a toe-hold in various kinds of
commercial focus group enquiries. (They do not mention, but I will
here, David Morrison's vast critique of the tradition of focus group
research and, as he sees it, its uncritical adoption by cultural
studies. I am not in any way implying that they have intentionally
ignored it. But it is relevant to my broader argument in as much as
Morrison argues that from its inception the focus group method was
infected with a political agenda which has quietly been forgotten in
cultural studies' subsequent enthusiasm for it[1]).
This existence of reception research on the boundary between
academic and commercial worlds is nicely captured in the research
example with which they open their account of this tradition:
Schrøder 's own study of the ways audiences responded to corporate
responsibility advertising. I found extremely helpful the detail
which they were able to include about how this and other exemplary
pieces of research were designed, carried out, and the resultant
materials analysed. Many research publications lose this sense of
process, not least because of constraints of space – a problem, of
course, that in principle an on-line Journal like Participations
need not suffer from.
At the close of
their discussion of the reception tradition, as they understand the
expression, they identify three broad strengths accruing to its
now-consolidated position. These are: its willingness to deal with
the 'wholeness' of audience responses, seeing these in the context
of the rest of people’s lives; the rise of comparative studies; and
the increasing attention being given to interactive audiences (and
given they open and close with a discussion of Big Brother
all three of these are of course very germane).
After these two
excursions into different traditions of qualitative research into
audiences, Schrøder et al. turn to the quantitative traditions,
here distinguishing a survey and an experimental tradition. Again I
found their choice and exploration of a chosen example to introduce
the survey field both interesting and helpful. They use Tony Bennett
et al.’s study of taste cultures in Australia, and they take time to
explore its relations with Bourdieu’s original study on which it is
based, but from which it importantly varies. They also once again
consider, interestingly, what policy-implications might flow from
the research.
Here too, there is a
kind of 'politics' in the way traditions are grouped, for here, in
the first, survey tradition they include the Uses and Gratifications
approach. They argue that its merits have been downplayed and its
problems overstated (calling its rejection a ‘fashionable’ cultural
studies response). Their case is interesting, but it is worth
remembering that the first – and perhaps still most powerful –
critique of this approach came not from cultural studies, but from
within sociology, from Philip Elliott.
It cannot go unremarked that their
fourth section, on the experimental tradition, feels very different
from the rest of the book – first of all just in its choice of
opening example. Unlike the others which use near-contemporary
examples, this one reverts to Albert Bandura’s Bobo-doll experiments
– and indeed effectively makes ‘audience experiment’ synonymous with
‘measuring effects’, indeed ‘measuring the effects of violence’.
Space is given to considering criticisms of Bandura’s research, but
the only ones really considered are those that have to do with the
design and management of the experiment. There is no apparent
interest in the debates over either the fundamental
conceptualisation of media/audience relations (perhaps because of
that opening gambit to try to rescue the transmission model), or of
the politics of this whole research tradition (I am thinking here in
particular of the work of Willard Rowland and Timothy Glander[2]).
So what are the problems I perceive in
this book? Some are already signalled by my comments on that fourth
section. While its strengths are its range, its clarity, and its
determined call for an expansion of audience research using a wide
range of tools, there is to my mind a studied avoidance of the very
political debates which have been so important in the field. I
found this to be the case in two places in particular. The first
occasion was something of a red rag to this particular bull. In
their introduction to reception research, Schrøder et al. comment on
the frequent recourse to Stuart Hall's encoding/decoding model –
well, actually, more than that. They write: 'We challenge our
readers to find a single work from the empirical reception tradition
that does not make a reference to Stuart Hall's article'. (p. 127) I
have to report that I took up that challenge, and wrote to Kim
Schrøder referring him to the book I co-wrote with Jane Arthurs and
Ramaswami Harindranath[3],
where no such reference is made – because the methodology we were
using was at odds in important respects with Hall's model.
The same was true with my earlier study of the audiences for the
movie Judge Dredd – although I had to concede that we had
mentioned Hall's essay, but precisely to argue how unhelpful it
was. I don't intend this to be an issue about who knows about what
research (our world is far too complicated for every author to know
of everyone else's research). It is because their account of
reception research effectively equates it with an
encoding/decoding approach. And although they do (as Kim pointed out
in his reply to me) themselves propose ways of superceding Hall,
this is only at the methodological level. In other words, the kinds
of theoretico- political criticisms of the Hall model which
were made in the Judge Dredd book are entirely missing from
Schrøder et al..[4]
This problem was even more strikingly
present in the book's discussion of the 'effects
tradition'. Betraying, as I’ve suggested, a different tone of voice
from some other parts, this section mounts a virtual defence of this
tradition of work. I certainly don't want to argue that there is
something wrong with mounting defences – but to do so in this
context has costs. In the earlier parts of the book it is clear
that the supervening picture of audiences is as socially-located,
historically-grounded members of particular (and probably multiple)
communities. It is this which makes ethnographic research so
valuable. And the kind of discourse analytic approaches which have
fuelled reception research have also, in their turn, given emphasis
to capturing the social moments within audience responses (shared
discursive resources for instance, and displayed membership of
interpretive communities). It is to a lesser extent true that this
audience-focused study acknowledges also that the media for which
there are audiences also have complex semiotic structures and belong
within historical traditions of meaning. But in the discussion of
the effects tradition, and in particular in the defence of the
tradition of 'violence' research, that sense of the locatedness of
audiences just disappears. Here is one illustration of this (p.
328), where the authors[5]
are imagining the design of a research project: '[L]et us imagine
that we want to study the relationship between children's watching
violent TV programmes and aggression. … Our ambition is to
determine whether watching violent television (independent variable
= content of television programmes) increases the likelihood of
aggressive behaviour (dependent variable = subsequent aggressive
behaviour).' The direction of this entire language is away
from any sense of the audience – including children – as belonging
to societies and cultures, towards an individuating psychology of
childhood. And at the same time, the 'television content' becomes
blurry, loses all sense of generic and other categorical forms of
presentational form – instead becoming 'more or less violent' (with
attendant content analytic methods of measuring these, though this
remains effectively unstated in the book).
I don't think the
authors can duck the problems here. But they have tried to do so by
their virtuous-sounding appeal to methodological pluralism, and the
need to reconnect quantitative and qualitative traditions. It may of
course be one for which the cultural studies tradition bears some
responsibility. Critics like Ien Ang have come very close at times
to asserting that quantification equals objectification – a claim
that resonates back to older complaints from sections of the
Frankfurt School critique. In the face of that, and the resolute
refusal of most cultural studies researchers to use even primitive
forms of quantitative research, the door has been opened to the
reverse move. I would make an argument that we need to make a
clearer distinction between the techniques of investigation –
which may, by question, approach, and available resources be either,
or both, quantitative and/or qualitative, and the
conceptualisation of the audience, and the media. But this book
has much less to say about the latter. It is as if research could
now take place without much framework of thinking about the general
nature of the media/audience interface, or of the contexts within
which 'audiencing' is framed. That, to my eye, is a serious
limitation.
I have one final
problem with the book but it is a problem for the future. At the end
of the book they return to the relations between quantitative and
qualitative research, and argue for mutual respect between them. But
in doing so, they curiously fall back towards the model implicit in
so many current debates – that qualitative research, with its rich
situationalism, is good for giving depth, but bad at
representativeness – therefore can do little more in the end than
propose models which quantitative research will be able perhaps to
test; while quantitative research may have problems with depth, but
at least we know its rules for validity and reliability. I am
beginning to doubt the truth of this whole case. I would now want
to argue that there may be ways in which qualitative research,
differently conceptualised and on some specific questions, may be
able to give us checkable, generalisable explanatory
models of media/audience relations. To get to this point, we may
have to give up certain still common assumptions – the most crucial
of which is that from the point of view of research, all audience
members are equal. There is a much bigger argument to be had
here, but I hope at the very least to signal an invitation to engage
in it.
For all my
criticisms, this remains an exceptionally valuable book. Where is it
pitched? It is a little hard to say. Some parts of it undoubtedly
would work well with final year undergraduates. Each of the four
sections has a pretty clear section introducing a 'basic
methodological toolbox'. But in their final Section 7 the authors
appraise future directions, and introduce their own favoured
direction: a merging of quantitative and qualitative methods through
the use of Q-Methodology, which is a several-stage approach
permitting researchers to construct meaning-profiles from
preliminary research, then measure responses to that quantitatively,
so hopefully overcoming the problem of category-formation that has
bedevilled content analysis, for instance. This approach, to my eye,
is not unlike an elaborated version of the Osgoods' semantic
differential test (and not necessarily any the worse for
that). There may be great strengths to it. But I honestly doubt that
anyone below a doctoral student could gain very much from this very
dense discussion. The rest of the book is, as I have said,
informative, clearly written, enormously knowledgeable (even as I
complain about the gaps) and – that 'violence' problem aside – very
persuasive.
[1]
David Morrison, The Search for a Method: Focus Groups and the
Development of Mass Communication Research, Luton:
University of Luton Press 1998.
[2]
Willard Rowland, The Politics of TV Violence, NY: Sage
1983; Timothy Glander, Origins of Mass Communications
Research During the American Cold War: Educational Effects and
Contemporary Implications, NY: Lawrence Erlbaum 1999.
[3]
The Crash Controversy: Film Censorship and Audience Reception,
London: Wallflower Press 2001.
[4]
In other small ways the book displays the problem which this
Journal will hopefully help to overcome. On p. 353 they write
on the problem that discourse analytic procedures can be less
than transparent, and can make it difficult for anyone other
than the analyst to validate the conclusions. Celebrating the
fact that one analyst, Tamar Liebes, took steps to make it
possible for her readers to see how she had conducted her
analysis, they write: 'Liebes (1984) showed the way (never taken
up by later researchers) by publishing a two-column analysis of
one Dallas interview …'. Actually she is not alone in
this, but once again incomplete circulation of knowledge of
published researches is thwarting proper evaluation.
[5]
Of course one of the authors, Stephen Kline, has recently
mounted a major attack on the St. Louis Amici Court Brief, which
amounted to a critique of the effects tradition, but was used to
support an appeal against a lower court verdict denying young
people access to a range of video games, a Brief to which I and
a number of others contributed). For Brief and critique, see
the following web sites: (Folks, I can either hunt out the
original sites, or we could post the two pieces within the
Participations website – what do you think is best?)
http://www.fepproject.org/courtbriefs/stlouis.html
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