‘Market Researcher’ or Alan Partridge? Job titles matter... maybe a little too much for some of us
As researchers, we all know the slight awkwardness of introductions at social gatherings: "Well, Peter, enough about my career as a frontline social worker/artisan furniture maker/social historian - what do you do for work?"
The world has always misunderstood, underestimated or even ignored the role of the researcher. I admit I may feel this injustice more sharply than most (and have been whingeing about it, on and off, since1987). Where public perceptions exist at all, they tend to be unflattering. We were once associated with clipboard-wielding street-corner types, hassling passers-by to answer questions about their cereal consumption - annoying, but benign. Later, we became linked with the dreaded “spin doctor”, conducting “focus groups” to help execute their dark arts. Annoying and malign.
But there is a new twist and it this that has reawakened my rancour. The other day, as I was relaxing into the new series of Alan Partridge, a scene unfolded where our titular non-hero was portrayed moderating a group discussion. Yes, Alan Partridge as a moderator! Could the reputation of our profession fall any lower?
To salvage our personal status - but also (more importantly!) to ensure we attract the best people for the job - we need to rethink the way we talk about what we do. The term market researcher is a big part of the problem. With this job title, surely it is no surprise that people tend to “fall into research” rather than strategically pursue the career. Despite the job title, the work itself is usually interesting, challenging, and - sometimes - even meaningful. People may stumble into the job, but they tend to hang around in it (1987!)
I’m not sure I’ve ever described myself as a “market researcher”, although I may have occasionally admitted to the lesser crime of “working in market research”. What is it about market research that’s so depressing? It’s clearly the word market, not researcher. The term dates to the 1920s (apparently) but somehow missed out on the Roaring Twenties’ glam. The name, and our fate, was sealed officially by the formation of the Market Research Society in 1946. It’s no surprise that even this august body now refers to itself simply as The MRS.
So how should we talk about who we are and what we do? Unless you’d happily describe yourself as a “consumer detective” or “insight storyteller”, AI isn’t the answer to this challenge.
I’m not sure how other people do it, but I stick to using “qualitative researcher”, regretfully accepting the inevitable elaboration: “I interview people, either one-to-one or in groups, to find out how they feel about issues, brands, or advertising”. Or I might even say, “Quantitative researchers explore the numbers; qualitative researchers explore the feelings behind them”. Their eyes might glaze over but at least I get it out there!
We should also resist going too far the other way though and bigging up our role too much. I admit I’m susceptible to this temptation.
We could, for example, follow the lead of some of our industry leaders who argue that “speaking truth to power” is one of the most important roles market researchers play - and we need to tell the world. This phrase, “speaking truth to power” originated in the Quaker community and is also associated with the civil rights movement - no wonder it possesses so much moral gravitas. Of course, we’d like some of that, but do we really deserve it?
The claim has some credibility. It is what we do - or what we should do - at least some of the time. The job can involve delivering difficult or controversial news to critical or defensive audiences, and we owe it to clients and participants to speak up loudly and clearly. This aspect of the job is probably becoming more relevant too, as we navigate a world characterised by disinformation and subjective truth.
Talking about an industry that talks ‘truth to power’ makes absolute sense but, alas, it doesn’t work on an individual level. For most researchers, most projects are better characterised by genuinely open clients and stakeholders - and are essentially non-controversial, no bravery required. It also sounds an embarrassingly grandiose claim and kind of brings us back to Alan Partridge. Thinking about it, it actually has more of a David Brent vibe.
But at least it would settle the party-introduction challenge: “My name is Peter, and I speak truth to power”
Peter Totman, Nov 25