Supervising Postgraduate Research

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Supervising Postgraduate Research:

Contexts and Processes, Theories and Practices

Edited by Pam Green

SUPERVISING POSTGRADUATE RESEARCH: CONTEXTS AND PROCESSES, THEORIES AND PRACTICES

Edited by Pam Green Studies on Learning, Teaching and Research (SOLTAR) Series Series Editor: Professor John Bowden RMIT UNIVERSITY PRESS MELBOURNE

First published by RMIT University Press © Pam Green 2005 Copyright in the individual chapters is held by the authors of those chapters. Edited by Kath Harper Cover design by David Constable Design and production by Publishing Solutions All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any mean electronic, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher. National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication data: Supervising postgraduate research : contexts and processes, theories and practices. ISBN 1 920892 32 X. 1. Universities and colleges - Graduate work. 2. Graduate students - Supervision of. 3. Faculty advisors. I. Green, Pam. (Series : Studies on learning, teaching and research (SOLTAR)). 378.19422 Published by RMIT University Press, an imprint of: RMIT Publishing PO Box 12058, A’Beckett Street, Melbourne Victoria 8006 Australia Telephone 61 3 9925 8100 Fax 61 3 9925 8134 Email: [email protected] http://www.informit.com.au Online edition available on Informit e-Library, http://search.informit.com.au

CONTENTS

Series Preface Preface SECTION 1 SPACES AND PLACES FOR SUPERVISION Chapter 1: Complex contexts, relations and practices: the space for research supervision Pam Green Chapter 2: Changing contexts for research education: implications for supervisor development Margot Pearson Chapter 3: Partnership, protection and participation: challenges for research supervision in Aotearoa/New Zealand Tanya Fitzgerald Chapter 4: Collaborative knowledge management and the art of coaching: reflections on the diverse roles of the successful supervisor Jo Reidy and Pam Green

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SECTION 2 SUPERVISION WITHIN CHANGING RESEARCH DEGREE FRAMEWORKS Chapter 5: Changing times, changing research, changing degrees: supervising and managing the first PhD by project undertaken in a Business faculty Carlene Boucher and Robert Brooks 73 Chapter 6: Cross disciplinary comparison of research degrees by project: implications for supervision Laura Brearley 89 Chapter 7: Supervising professional doctorate research is different Clive Morley 106

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Chapter 8: Supervision in the knowledge economy Jacqueline Rowarth and Pam Green

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SECTION 3 RESEARCH SUPERVISION MANAGEMENT AND MODELS Chapter 9: Cluster supervision for project-based research degrees: developing best practice Bill Eckersley and David Maunders Chapter 10: A fluid model for supervision Jacqueline Rowarth and Ian Cornforth Chapter 11: The supervisor’s role as manager of the PhD journey Tricia Vilkinas Chapter 12: Changing candidature approval processes: a review of the RMIT Business panel review of candidature process Robert Brooks and Elizabeth Merlot

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Notes on contributors

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141 154 163

Series Preface

The life of a university has traditionally been focused around three activities: research, teaching and community service. In recent decades, as the university systems in most countries have expanded substantially and simultaneously diversified, the interest in these three areas of activity has been sustained, although the distinction between community service and the other two is becoming more blurred. With greater numbers of academics undertaking an ever-increasing range of responsibilities, professional development in those roles has outgrown the informal apprenticeship model that characterised the elite universities of the past. In particular, the last four decades have seen the development of a professional field devoted to improving learning and teaching in universities, with associated academic structures, research agendas and refereed journals. In more recent times, attention to the nature of and support for postgraduate research candidature, an increasing level of accountability in regard to the responsibilities of research supervision and the need to induct increasing numbers of academics into new research ventures, have produced a similar development of specialised programmes and support groups in the research field. The experience of many of us who have been involved in such professional development activities is that, while understanding the theory-practice relation is an important learning process if the university system is to progress, there are many teachers, supervisors and researchers who do excellent and sophisticated work without necessarily being able to articulate theoretically why they act as they do. Often the professional development they engage in results in a post hoc appreciation that they have already been acting as theory would suggest they should. That in itself is satisfying and it is also beneficial in making further development more likely through even more deliberate application of theory to new practices. Those for whom this does not apply would do well to become aware of the practices of those who have been successful. v

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S U P E R V I S I N G P O S T G R A D U AT E R E S E A R C H

The process of articulating your own practice and making sense of it both in terms of the practical goals you have and the available theoretical models that provide explanation of the varying levels of success achieved are important learning activities for all teachers and researchers. At least, that has been my observation over more than three decades dealing with professional development across learning, teaching and research. The idea for this series of monographs, the SOLTAR Series (Studies On Learning, Teaching And Research), was derived from those observations. I was very aware of the existence of a wide range of successful practices among academics that had not been articulated in a way that made them accessible to others. This series of monographs is intended to address that need. This current monograph is the first and is titled Supervising Postgraduate Research: Contexts and Processes, Theories and Practices. A second monograph is at the editing stage and is titled E-Learning in the University: Some Constructionist Perspectives. The SOLTAR series of monographs raises issues related to learning, teaching and research of relevance to university educators, students, professional development staff and curriculum support personnel. The series provides varied instances where educators reflect on their own practices in terms of their respective theoretical positions. A divergence of views and practices on topics are presented. Further, the series seeks to encourage other practitioners to reflect on their own theory and practice, with a view to pushing boundaries and extending repertoires and options. John A Bowden Series Editor August 2005

Preface

This book emerged from a research conference on Research Supervision that I convened at RMIT University in 2002. The conference was sponsored by the Office of the PVC: Research and Innovation at RMIT University. Many thanks to Professor Neil Furlong (PVC: Research & Innovation) for his support and encouragement. Thanks must also go to the conference committee: Associate Professor Carlene Boucher, Dr. Robyn Barnacle and Lisa Grocott. A call for papers from the conference led to the receipt of numerous papers and a long process of blind review. All of the chapters received were sent out to two external reviewers identified through the international network of experts, SPEC (Scholarly Publications Editorial Committee), who nominated external reviewers from across the globe. At the time of reviewing the chapters Professor John Bowden was the Chair of SPEC and provided much assistance, as did Helen Lennox with the administrative aspects of the processes involved in blind review. Special thanks must go to both of these people for their expertise, patience, persistence and goodwill. The editing role is sometimes one that adheres to a given timeline but at other times it stretches a little beyond the original expectation. This was one such time when the latter occurred. However, the additional time was not unwisely spent as the papers now featured in this monograph provide a feast of theoretical stances, ideas, strategies, and reflective opportunities. I invite the reader to dip into the wealth of expertise and experience within the spaces of the text, and thank all of the authors for their contributions. Pam Green PhD Associate Professor RMIT Business

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Section 1 SPACES AND PLACES FOR SUPERVISION

CHAPTER 1

Complex contexts, relations and practices: the space for research supervision Pam Green

The face of complexity The face of research supervision has shifted in ways largely anticipated but increasingly complex. With growing attention to quality assurance processes and national research training schemes that focus on successful but also timely completion of research degrees, research supervision has now come under the spotlight for closer examination. In a context of performativity (Lyotard 1984) where performance is linked to economic gain, we find ourselves supervising within a knowledge economy where knowledge is a central input but also a significant output (Green and Usher 2003). Hence, the context in which supervision occurs is under increased pressure—pressure to yield knowledge in forms that count and in timelines that fit with relatively newly created and tight boundaries. Always a complex task, even when viewed strictly from the traditional expert scholar/apprentice model, supervision is now situated within a pressured performance context in terms of research training, but also within a context incorporating broadening research degree frameworks and modes of presentation across global communication possibilities. Further, with growing attention on the demands of risk management in a litigious world, research supervision treads on ground less smooth than once known. However, despite the changing face of research supervision given the shifting pressures, degree types, modalities and so on, research supervision still remains one of the most rewarding (and always challenging) roles within the university (and now beyond with our industry partners and the professions). The need for critical and careful consideration of the space that we allocate to research supervision is now argued prior to an overview of the other chapters within this book. 3

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Space for supervision The need for space for supervision, particularly in this pressured higher education context, has been argued for in terms of the relational, the intellectual and the physical (Green 2003). Each aspect will be discussed in turn. These spaces are seen as crucial elements of research supervision: each notion of space is inextricably linked with the others.

Relational space Space for the relational aspects of research supervision is crucial. Without such space so called supervisory practices, by definition, cease to fall into the realm of supervision. Instead they become instances in which students work in isolation without the appropriate feedback, guidance, mentoring, critique and so on. Relational space refers to the time and place in which the complexities surrounding the supervisor–student relationship take shape. This notion of relational space is based on the assumption that supervision is social practice. Decades ago, Scribner and Cole (1981) defined practice as ‘a recurrent, goal directed sequence of activities using a particular technology and particular systems of knowledge’ (p. 236). While this definition was developed with regard to literacies, it does have applicability to supervision. This definition of practice, like the Research Training Scheme in Australia, needs to be located in terms of the social so as to take into account the relational elements of supervision. Supervisory practices need to be situated as part of wider social practices that position people in various roles and networks, rely on given discoursal practices and occur in relation to cultural practices in specific settings. The nature of the research journey of the student relies on relational elements between supervisor and candidate whereby roles and responsibilities are made clear and revised, where ‘zones of uncertainty’ (Laske and Zuber-Skerritt 1996) are exposed where possible, and where a committed, consistent (although admittedly dynamic) approach can be forged and maintained. As Delamont, Parry and Atkinson (1998) warn, the relationship between supervisor and student is indeed a delicate one. As such it needs time and space to develop so that subtle shifts can occur that hopefully enhance trust and respect, clarify roles and expectations, moderate work habits, formulate timelines and manage progress. Further, the trust that comes only with extended interactions needs time to develop. Without this,

Complex contexts, relations and practices

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it is unlikely that the student will be able to come to terms, to even a minimal level, with the inherent power differentials. This needs to occur to some degree if students are to be positioned such that they feel able to state their views, and argue the point as they become the ‘experts’ in the given discipline(s). Thus, to further elaborate this last point, space is needed for the student to become the autonomous ‘other’ (Lee and Williams 1999) or what we would term the professional scholar. The movement from relative dependence on a supervisor to an independent or autonomous academic position takes time but is absolutely crucial for doctoral students. The need for relational space is both literal and metaphorical. Relational space sets the scene for, and provides the momentum to, the intellectual aspects of a higher degree (Green 2003).

Intellectual space The intellectual space for supervision can be seen as the time and place needed for the generation of ideas anew. As Bowden and Marton (1998) note: ‘Trying to find out something that nobody has found previously is different from trying to find out what somebody has found out earlier’ (p. 10). Clearly, the pursuit of new knowledge takes time. Simply finding out what others have noted or researched, and even critiquing their work, is not sufficient within the doctoral journey. Supervisors aspire to create an intellectual context in which new ways of thinking are found. The following question thus arises: how can supervisors push students to find fresh ideas, and to therefore contribute significantly to their field, at a pace set by policy makers and therefore well removed from the nature of the research focus and the space required for such intellectual endeavours? If we take into account the fact that supervisors do not necessarily supervise strictly within their discipline areas—given the impact of multidisciplinary or transdisciplinary research—then the demands on a supervisor are seen to be increased further. More and more, supervision demands, particularly with professional doctorates and project degrees, an understanding of the academic field, the industry context, and the practice based context, as well as the relevant methodological knowings and practices. Thus, the space needed for intellectualism, an essential aspect of the research degree, is hard to define. What seems clear, however, is that strict constraints may compromise the intellectual endeavours within the doctoral journey if we are not careful to preserve the intellectual space.

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Physical space Essentially the physical space for supervision, within the world of social science, is quite simple. While students may require resources such as computer access and a place to work, most Australian universities offer access (particularly for full time students). Communication at a distance can work (but perhaps not indefinitely); however, it is argued that face-to-face contact is vital (Green 2003; McWilliam and Taylor 2000). It is crucial in terms of motivation, reviews of progress, future planning, contracts where applicable, as well as to reduce the zones of uncertainty that are possible and the concerns that if unexposed can grow into challenges or even unresolvable problems. Thus, the physical space for supervision requires time and place.

An overview: mapping the offerings This book is structured under three main areas related to research supervision: 1. Spaces and places for supervision 2. Supervision within changing research degree frameworks 3. Research supervision management and models. As such the book aims to offer the reader an opportunity to consider theories, issues, and practices surrounding the relational elements within local and broader contexts, the degree options in our midst, and the management or supervision models available to us as supervisors, students, and research directors. Thus, it is hoped that this text will have relevance to those of us who supervise, those being supervised and those responsible for the management of supervisory development and training, as well as taking on the roles inherent in wider research management.

Spaces and places for supervision Pearson considers the changing context for research education and in so doing raises issues surrounding the reconsideration or reconstruction of supervisory practices. She proposes three central aspects within the design of research supervisor development. The question as to the role of supervisor development is posed in terms of whether the aim is to improve existing practice or to rethink and therefore shape and


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reshape existing practices. Highlighting both the need for, and the resistance that has existed to, moving into scholarly discussion of research supervision, Pearson’s chapter offers just that. Her chapter is a scholarly take on supervision within the current research context in Australia, and she delivers some practical possibilities with respect to research supervision. The chapter focuses on learning and considers three models of situated learning that provide convincing and coherent bases from which practice can be reflected upon and from which research supervision can be seen (and conducted) as collegial practice rather than isolated individual practice. Fitzgerald takes us into the world of research supervision using a context of indigenous knowledge and indigenous research. Her chapter centres on the conduct of Maori research and the reproduction of Maori knowledge, as well as the conduct of research with and for Maori communities by postgraduate students in Aotearoa/New Zealand. The paper seeks to address, at least in part, the gap in the literature with respect to research supervision with Maori postgraduate students. Fitzgerald, as a Pakeha (white) woman academic, is positioned with responsibility for Maori students engaged in research within Maori communities, but she questions the legitimacy of her role. The challenges inherent in such a role are discussed. She uses the institutional case study of UNITEC Institute of Technology to illuminate her struggle with legitimacy and authenticity, and completes her chapter with an indigenous research partnership model. The reader is encouraged to step back after reading this chapter and consider the more general issues pertaining to research supervision, that is, to move from the particular or micro level to a more macro level. The following chapter looks at macro issues using the particular as illustrative. The chapter by Fitzgerald could be read or reread with this in mind. An in depth analysis of the supervisory relationship from the viewpoint of supervisor and doctoral student is presented by Reidy and Green. The complex aspects of the relationship between supervisor and candidate are explored alongside the notion of knowledge management as collaborative enterprise. The authors reflect on the ways in which the supervisor–candidate interaction undergoes a series of changes as the candidate proceeds along the doctoral journey towards completion. The transition from coach to colleague is developed across key phases within the doctoral journey, and strategies finding a ‘fit’ between supervisor and candidate are presented as food for thought.

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Supervision within changing research degree frameworks The second section of the book moves to the issues surrounding research supervision across a growing research degree framework. Boucher and Brooks present their learnings from the experience of supervising a PhD by project—purportedly the first non thesis PhD in an Australian business faculty. Being cognisant of the risks involved in such a journey but also of the potential benefits, the supervisors discuss how they worked within the institutional rules and norms to assist the candidate to complete the doctorate. The authors raise the issues pertaining to both management and examination processes, and provide advice to supervisors and candidates considering PhD by project. Brearley reflects upon the research experience with regard to the substance and emotional intensity within. She presents the findings of an aesthetic research project with a view to challenging us as researchers and supervisors to be further aware of ourselves and our practices. In examining the PhD by project, Brearley takes a cross-disciplinary perspective and presents the implications arising for research supervision particularly for those working with students using expanded forms of knowledge creation and representation. The supervisory experience within the professional doctorate is discussed by Morley using the Doctorate of Business Administration as an illustrative example. Morley views the professional doctorate as an opportunity, and indeed a necessity, for supervisors to move away from the traditional one-to-one supervisory model. Contrasting the DBA with the PhD, Morley looks at his own supervisory experiences in order to highlight differences in roles, ways of working and positioning in terms of the doctorate within academia, the professions and industry. Rowarth and Green look at the professional doctorate in terms of the knowledge economy in which the university is now located. Given the context of performativity in which we now operate, where performance is tied to economic gain, there are pressures on supervisors to perform by supervising ‘on time’ and across degree frameworks. The context within which professional doctorates grew in Australia are discussed, and the authors then move to contrast the PhD with the professional doctorate per se with respect to main components, form, knowledge type, intake, and pathways as well as issues pertaining to supervision. Rowarth and Green conclude with a range of supervisory strategies that have relevance across various degree frameworks.


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Research supervision management and models While the chapter by Eckersley and Maunders could equally be positioned in the abovementioned section on degree frameworks, it fits well in this section on supervisory models for research degrees. The chapter looks at learning circles or learning sets within a cluster (or group) supervision model. Using an action research cluster of students enrolled in higher degrees by project, the authors reflect on learning theory from various theorists using action learning or research. The chapter presents the application of action learning circles to provide opportunities for students to become action enquirers. Relational aspects with respect to trust, ground rules and thoughtful behaviours within the group context are discussed, as well as preparation for the meetings. Rowarth and Cornforth describe the experience of research supervision within the biological sciences. While most of the other chapters come from the social sciences, education and business, this one tells of a rather different journey. The authors liken the doctoral journey to a river crossing where there are numerous possibilities to explore as well as obstacles to overcome. The key responsibilities of the supervisor are discussed using the river journey metaphor. Along the way hazards occur and the authors acknowledge the inherent responsibilities of all involved. As the journey proceeds and conditions vary, the relationship between the supervisor and candidate shifts and, when successful, grows in terms of mutual trust and respect. The role of supervisor as manager is the focus of the chapter by Vilkinas. Given the current focus on timely completions, she argues that the supervisor must act as a manager during the doctoral journey. Vilkinas sees this role as being crucial in terms of completion. Using Quinn’s competing values model, she modifies it to make it more applicable to PhD supervision. The chapter points to eight roles that a research supervisor might take: those of innovator, broker, producer, director, coordinator, monitor, facilitator, and mentor. The chapter by Brooks and Merlot provides a model of another kind: one centring on candidature review processes. The authors discuss the change in candidature review processes from a paper based system to that of a review panel. The results of two surveys, one of panel members and one of students, revealed overall that the response to the new system was positive. While there were still some issues to overcome, generally it was felt that the panel system enhanced communication, provided students with greater support,

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and served as a motivation towards timely progress. The important role of the supervisor within such processes is emphasised, and the argument that both senior and second supervisors need to be involved is strongly put. The impact for research training with respect to completion is also highlighted.

References Bowden, J. and Marton, F. 1998, The University of Learning: Beyond Quality and Competence in Higher Education, Kogan Page Ltd, London. Delamont, S., Parry, O. and Atkinson, P. 1998, ‘Creating a delicate balance: The doctoral supervisor’s dilemmas’, Teaching in Higher Education, vol. 3, no. 2, pp. 157–72. Green, P. 2003, ‘Diminishing spaces: The supervision of research degree students in Australian universities’, in Spatiality, Curriculum and Learning, eds R. Edwards and R. Usher, Greenwood, Westport CT. Green, P. and Usher, R. 2003, ‘Fast supervision: Changing supervisory practice in changing times’, Studies in Continuing Education, vol. 25, no. 1, pp. 37–50. Laske, S. and Zuber-Skerritt, O. 1996, ‘Frameworks for postgraduate research and supervision: An overview’ in Frameworks for Postgraduate Education, ed. O. Zuber-Skerritt, Southern Cross University Press, Lismore, NSW. Lee, A. and Williams, C. 1999, ‘Forged in fire: Narratives of trauma in PhD supervision’, Southern Review, vol. 31, no. 1, pp. 6–26. Lyotard, J.F. 1984, The Postmodern Condition: A Report on Knowledge, Manchester University Press. McWilliam, E. and Taylor, P. 2000, Reconciling Rapidity and Rigour: Strategies and Structures for the Next Generation of Professional Doctorates, paper presented at the Third International Professional Doctorates Conference (‘Doctoral Education and Professional Practice: The Next Generation’), University of New England, Armidale 10–13 September. Scribner, S. and Cole, M. 1981, The Psychology of Literacy, Harvard University Press, Cambridge, Mass.

CHAPTER 2

Changing contexts for research education: implications for supervision development1 Margot Pearson Introduction The past decade in Australia has seen major change in the research environment and higher education, an increase in research student numbers, a growth in new research degree programs and much debate about supervision. However there has been limited discussion of the impact of these changes on the nature and expectations of supervision as a component of research education. There is a danger in this for supervision development. There is the potential for the current pressure for supervision development, with a focus on the individual supervisor, to have the perverse effect of entrenching practices that are inappropriate for current conditions. In a setting of major change that affects all aspects of research education, supervision development must itself be a vehicle for change that goes beyond improving individual supervisor practice. Professional development initiatives, to be effective, should be responsive to changes in the research environment so as to become part of an overall change process in research education as research groups, departments and institutions seek to align (and continually realign) research practices, organisational structures, policies and expectations. In this chapter I will discuss salient aspects of the changing context for research education and significant issues for rethinking supervisory practice, and propose three key features critical to the design of a supervision development program that can successfully respond to the changing environment. These features are a focus on the ‘job’ of supervision as the facilitation of research student learning, the foregrounding of the dynamics of the research learning environment, and 11

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the promotion of critical reflection and engagement with the scholarship of research education and supervision.

Changing contexts for research education Pressures for change in university research education are many. Those of particular saliency for supervision development include government policies, changes in the research environment, and growing diversity among research students, in respect of both their characteristics and their goals. Government policy has a direct impact on research education in Australia, with a heavy reliance on government funding for higher education and for research. Policy directions both reflect changes in the research environment and drive some of those changes as the government seeks to ensure a return on public investment. Current government policy aims to align research education with the perceived needs of employers, with the likely career needs of research graduates—of whom a majority will not be employed in academia—and, increasingly, with the demands of supporting the growth of the emerging knowledge economy. Universities are being urged to strengthen Australia’s research capability for economic growth. These demands are leading to more emphasis on broader and explicit skills formation for research students, who are now deemed to be in ‘research training’. Research training is a term that embraces as the outcomes of training both project completion and a thesis, and broader learning outcomes that prepare the future researcher for employment in diverse contexts in and outside academia. At the same time universities are being pressured to improve the quality of research education as measured by timely completions, levels of student satisfaction, and attention to the effectiveness of supervision/ supervisors (Gallagher 2000). However, to fully understand the research environment for research education it is important to appreciate the changes in research in universities that are affected by other pressure. Research has its own dynamic, leading to what Clark (1996) calls ‘substantive growth’, which is propelled by the drive to specialisation. New research specialities emerge as disciplines grow and change, and as new groups, especially in professional fields, have sought to develop their research capability—as, for example, in health sciences, business and others. As Gumport (1993) explains, this dynamic also contributes to the rapid obsolescence of knowledge as individual academics seek to stay at the forefront of knowledge development in their disciplines. At the same time inter-

Changing contexts for research education

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disciplinary research is growing in response to new and complex challenges in arenas such as health and the environment, and there is increased attention to collaborative and industry-based research in both science and technology areas and professional fields. The use of information and communication technologies (ITC) has led to changes in the technology of research in many science-based disciplines and some humanities areas (e.g. computer modelling, computerised text analysis). ITC also allows more research in distributed settings, which is more common as research moves into new areas outside universities (ARC/NBEET 1996). Such developments are leading to changes in the way research is organised. There is less reliance on traditional disciplinebased departments with a teaching and research role, and instead the emergence of special research centres within universities, specially funded cooperative research centres and other national research centres, which combine university and industry partners. The growing diversity of the research student profile has been documented (Pearson and Ford 1997; Pearson 1999). Research students have varying expectations and goals, with some doing advanced study and research as the culmination of their university career before entering the workforce, and others entering research education to consolidate a career, enhance employment opportunities or change personal/career direction. Other differences can be explained by work settings, or by enrolment choices—on/off campus, part-time/full-time enrolment—and by country of origin. This diversity has led to innovations in the way research degrees are constructed and in some cases, particularly in professional areas, the development of new awards— the professional doctorates (Trigwell, Shannon and Maurizi 1997). It has also meant that the supposedly traditional supervisor relationship of a research student with one supervisor can no longer be assumed. Nor are broader categories such as ‘traditional’, ‘panel supervision’ or ‘co-supervision’ sufficient to encompass the diversity of arrangements. For example, in her study of APA(I)s, Powles (1994, p. 40) found only 40 percent of 172 students in co-supervision arrangements where one supervisor was from industry and one from the university, as might be expected. The remainder had a wide variety of single supervisor and co-supervisory arrangements. In such a diverse and dynamic setting research education faces many challenges. Research education is becoming more open to scrutiny and accountable. Expectations of research education outcomes are no longer focused primarily on the reproduction of the academic community. Nor is research education confined to the university campus. As a consequence, not only are research students

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now seen to be engaged in research training, but training for supervisors is being seen as a reasonable demand of research supervisors as professional educators.

Supervision development—improving or rethinking practice? Although supervision, and its quality, has been identified as a concern by various reports (West 1998; Martin, Maclachlan and Karmel 1999; Latona and Brown 2001), just what is at issue is not so clear. Are we concerned to improve existing practice, or are we asking for something different? Elsewhere I have argued (Pearson 2000) that some reframing of the supervisory role is a prerequisite for productive professional development. However, this is a complex enterprise. We lack a robust educational model of what has been accepted practice as a basis from which to proceed and, as discussed by Green and Lee (1995), in contrast to undergraduate education the pedagogy of supervision is under theorised. Instead, still dominant in policy formulation is an implicit model that assumes as a ‘norm’ a supposedly traditional form of PhD training imported from the UK of the ‘Bachelor (Hons) plus some research time’ (Pearson and Ford 1997, p. 7) carried out in disciplinebased departments. With this implicit model come associated assumptions, such as: that students are younger and engaged in initial career preparation; and that full-time on-campus study is the dominant and preferred mode. This model is inaccurate in many respects and ignores various factors: the late entry of the PhD to Australia (post WW2); the practice of many academics seeking higher degrees at metropolitan institutions overseas and bringing back varied experiences (Reimer 1998; Lee and Williams 1999); and the number of academic staff over past years (and especially pre–1988 tutors) who pursued a PhD while employed in universities. The persistence of unexamined assumptions about past and present practice results from the lack of a rigorous scholarly and professional conversation about research supervision among practitioners and, until recently, the very private nature of higher education teaching. Supervision, as with undergraduate teaching, has been something that university academics were assumed to be able to do without any specific training (Pearson 1996). Moreover, until recently many supervisors had supervised relatively few students, so that their experience base was small. In some fields there is no ‘tradition’ of doing higher degree research, as many of the doctoral students are themselves academic staff seeking to upgrade their qualifications as part of establishing their professional/disciplinary research base. The intensity of


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many supervisory relationships has also militated against open discussion, as has the lack of shared expectations and understanding of what is ‘good practice’. In this climate conversations between students and supervisors are sensitive as students worry about the effect conflict could have on career prospects, and supervisors can worry about the reputational effect of their students failing or complaining about their supervision. Resistance to scholarly discussion of supervision as an educational and professional practice is reinforced by differences being read primarily or solely as disciplinary differences. The argument for disciplinary differences is strengthened by constant reference to Becher’s well-known book, whose title—Academic Tribes and Territories (Becher 1989)—is probably better known than its contents. The argument goes that discussion with anyone who is not a discipline expert is unacceptable as the practices are and must be discipline specific. In its extreme form this argument would prevent any professional development program getting off the ground, and it can best be seen as a form of organisational defence (Argyris 1990). However, there is ground for caution from research supervisors, as otherwise they are open to simplistic advice which takes practices that apparently work in one field and advocates them as ‘good practice’ for all—a more likely event if some form of benchmarking is being implemented without due care. Delamont, Atkinson and Parry (2000) discuss the issue of the relationship of disciplines and the doctorate in some depth in their study of research supervision. This study was based on interviews with academic supervisors and focused on research supervision as a process of enculturation. They state: Academic disciplines and the subject matter are mutually constitutive. A discipline furnishes its members with definitions— often tacit—of what is ‘thinkable’, with appropriate assumptions as to what ‘counts’ as research problems, suitable research methods, definitions of research programmes and the approved modes of graduate student research. (p. 173) Although they also acknowledge the difference between those disciplines that are defined in terms of disciplinary loyalties and those interdisciplinary or multidisciplinary fields where it is more ‘the problem’ that ‘defines the work and self’ (Delamont et al. 2000, p. 181), their focus is on established disciplines. They warn that the imposition of bureaucratic methods of management and accountability may

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prove ineffectual in changing the practices of disciplinary cultures. However, Delamont and colleagues acknowledge in their concluding discussion that their focus on academic socialisation as enculturation may have led to an emphasis on continuity and stability at the expense not only of change and development, but also of the impact of other factors, such as the realities of institutional organisation, which can create different boundaries and communities. The issue of what other factors are significant has been discussed by Välimaa (1998) who, drawing on the work of US educational researchers such as Clark (1987) and Tierney and Rhoads (1993), positions academics as interacting with and belonging to a number of reference groups, which can include discipline-based communities (national and international colleagues), professional communities (institutional or national), institutional level communities (professional colleagues from other departments), and national culture (friends and relatives). On different issues Välimaa (1998, p. 130) suggests academics will identify with different reference groups, revealing a more fluid situation than that suggested by a focus on disciplinary differences, and one more aligned with the view that higher education institutions are open systems interacting with their environments and society. An emphasis on disciplinary differences and supervisor perspectives can also privilege the single supervisor model at a time when more and more institutions are moving to panel style arrangements. It is worth noting that evidence for the value of panel arrangements has mostly come from data gathered from students who appreciate the flexibility and access to attention and expertise (Cullen, Pearson, Saha and Spear 1994; Pearson 1996). Current pressures for panel style supervision now include the demands of interdisciplinary research, the lack of expertise in subspecialities within any given institution, the growth of research centres which are multidisciplinary and problem focused, and the need for arrangements which can structure supervision for research and study off campus. Panel or committee supervision offers a way to both structure and manage such situations. As discussed in Pearson (2000), this is no sure or easy solution. Rather, experience shows that the more people involved, the more management and co-ordination is required. In Pearson and Ford (1997, pp. 56–7) two cases from the same supervisor describe panel supervision of an off campus student, one of which was successful and one of which was not. Issues arose as to the extent to which expectations of supervision were shared, and the degree of commitment to the goals of the student research program.


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Most significant currently in Australia are the tensions around the purpose and nature of the PhD, which have been foregrounded by the Research Training Scheme. For some there are concerns that the emphasis on timely completions as a proxy for efficiency and quality in the government agenda could pose a threat—to the PhD as an opportunity for students to learn how to do research by doing it, and to the status of students as both students and producers of research. The very terminology of research training is a particular concern for students, who worry that they might become reconceived as ‘trainees’, and that pressures on completions might lead to ‘safe’ projects which do not allow opportunity for exploration or the taking of risks (Smith 2000). Accompanying this concern is a further one about the conflict of priorities inherent in the demand for both shorter completion times and broader learning outcomes. To ensure timely completions supervisors are likely to advise against additional learning experiences during the research degree program—work placements, teaching— that would enhance the student’s capacity to be an adaptive and employable research graduate. It is essential to be sensitive to such issues in any design of supervision developer programs, as what is/ought to be supervision, research training and ‘good practice’ is open to debate. The way forward can only be to accept the complexity of the issues and use supervision development as a vehicle for responding to change. Any such program needs to encourage supervisors to engage with the debates, articulate various approaches and positions, and explore ideas and practice, so that supervision development contributes to the development of our understanding of research and research education now and for the future.

Designing supervision development programs responsive to a changing environment The question, given the context and issues discussed, is how to provide appropriate professional development for research supervisors which addresses the issues and complexities of practice in sufficient depth, and in ways that promote continuing professional learning and development. What should be the content, the knowledge and skills, and the learning approach? The possible content of any program could be daunting if it seeks to be fully comprehensive in covering everything a supervisor might ‘need to know’, as indicated in the outline of a possible course in Pearson and Brew (2002). It could include a range of knowledge, skills and attitudes such as: knowledge

18


of institutional requirements and procedures for supervisors and research students, including ethics requirements and safety; enhanced competency in interactional and communication skills, such as negotiation and giving feedback which is supportive and challenging; and many other topics, producing a potentially very lengthy program of study. Such an approach is likely to be poorly received by those academics who already fear that calls for their ‘training’ will lead to forms of instruction that will either tell them what they already know, or try to change their practice to suit institutional and/or government agendas. Even though many early career researchers and supervisors are actually looking for assistance to meet the demands of their job, more experienced supervisors are likely to be suspicious of professional development as yet another imposition, and one that prevents them from doing the very teaching and research they are being exhorted to pursue. An alternative approach is to recognise that the needs of individual supervisors will vary. Research supervisors as adult professionals will not want, or need, to engage with all aspects of supervision practice in the same depth or formality. What they are likely to want is a program that allows them the flexibility to find their own path to suit their needs and circumstances. Such a program would provide supervisors with opportunities to share ideas with others and to reflect critically on their supervision practices. It would also provide opportunity for supervisors to extend their repertoire for interacting effectively with their students, and to enact changes in their practice that are considered and informed. It would, most importantly, be framed as an academic activity that is open to debate and challenge, and one that builds the capacity of supervisors themselves to respond effectively to changes in their environment. Critical to the success of any such program that seeks to contribute to the professionalism of supervisors will be these key features: • a focus on the ‘job’ of supervision as facilitating research student learning; • the foregrounding of the dynamics of the research learning environment; and • the promotion of critical reflection and engagement with the scholarship of research education and supervision.


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The ‘job’ of supervision as facilitating research student learning Although much has been written about supervision, it is surprising how little discussion there has been of what supervisors actually do. Much of what is available is laid out in bureaucratic sounding institutional rules which list in detail a great range of matters that supervisors must attend to without giving much guidance as to how to put these responsibilities together in a way that is educationally sound. For that purpose, as argued in Pearson (1999; 2001) and Pearson and Brew (2002), the research student learning experience is central to research education. The research student is learning the craft and practice knowledge of research while carrying out research and interacting with other researchers. To ensure that the student not only completes the research task but also has an educationally productive experience is the responsibility of the supervisor(s) who facilitate this process. This facilitation can itself be broken down into a number of responsibilities and tasks. For a doctoral candidate there are different stages that require different forms of assistance and interaction— establishing the candidature and the topic, monitoring progress, and writing up and submission. Some of this assistance is with formal matters such as institutional reporting requirements, ethical clearance and intellectual property concerns. Some is feedback on progress and ensuring assistance is provided where students need to learn particular techniques or access specific expertise. Supervisors can also assist research students to clarify their career goals and, within that context, ensure that they access learning opportunities that set them up for the directions they wish to pursue. This may mean linking students to research in industry, workplace placements and so on. It can mean introducing them to experienced researchers and research networks. Not all of this facilitation and support needs to be provided by the same supervisor. The formal supervisory responsibilities and tasks must be clearly identified with one supervisor, who is formally accountable for them being carried out. This is usually the responsibility of a designated main or principal supervisor, who in effect facilitates the student’s progress through their overall program of research and study, and arranges reporting, examining and other institutional requirements. It is a significant leadership role, although including some administrative responsibilities. However some of the job of supervision can be and is shared, usually to the advantage of the student. Further differentiation of the job of supervision can assist in ensuring this sharing is productive. One way to do this is to take

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commonly used terms such as ‘coaching’ and ‘mentoring’, and distinguish them as educational strategies. In this approach to unpacking the ‘job’ of supervision, as developed in Pearson (2001), coaching refers to the development of expertise and practice knowledge, which may include assistance with tasks such as literature reviews, advising on different research approaches, and so on. Mentoring relates to the personal and career development of research students of the kind already referred to. Both coaching and mentoring may come from a number of sources including the principal supervisor, other academics, panel members and so on. Evidence of students drawing on a range of people for such supervisory assistance shows the practice to be widespread (Pearson 1996; Pearson and Ford 1997). An advantage of differentiating between the tasks and responsibilities of supervision is that it allows for a more managed approach to sharing responsibilities in the growing number of situations where, especially in distributed settings, necessarily more than one supervisor is involved. Making the responsibilities and tasks of supervision more explicit also provides a framework for critical reflection and the evaluation of performance and outcomes. For example, a review of the results of a 1999 government initiated Postgraduate Research Experience Questionnaire (PREQ) survey with this framework in mind suggests that not all supervisors currently carry out facilitation and coaching effectively. In the ‘Supervision’ subscale those items which refer to relationship rate well, but those which are task focused much less so, as is shown in the following table (Ainley 2001, p. 14). Supervision 1.

Supervision was available when I needed it

21. My supervisor/s provided helpful feedback on my progress 7.

My supervisor/s made a real effort to understand difficulties I faced

% agreement 83 76 74

13. My supervisor/s provided additional information relevant to my topic

70

17. I was given good guidance in topic selection and refinement

57

24. I received good guidance in my literature search

54

The two items that rated least positively—guidance on topic selection and refinement, and guidance on the literature search—are critical to completing a successful doctorate. Getting the topic well defined


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is essential for a high quality thesis. Ensuring that a research project is viable and feasible is important for timely project completion, and this is even more so where there are significant resource or data access considerations. Literature reviews are significant in contextualising the research and are used by examiners as a good indicator that the student grasps the problem they are researching and is conversant with current and relevant literature (Mullins and Kiley 2002). As we know from the work of Bruce (1996), literature reviews are something that students do find difficult, but often supervisors assume they know what to do. Where students move into subspecialities or interdisciplinary work that is outside the boundaries of their honours or masters degrees, or are returning to study after some years in the workforce, they are especially likely to need direction. The idea that students are ready to read the literature unguided, or identify and refine their topic with minimal assistance, suggests that some supervisors still see a higher research degree as a continuation of earlier honours or masters work.

Foregrounding of the dynamics of the research learning environment Although the importance of the research environment and research culture has been recognised, it has not been the focus of attention in research education to the same extent as has supervision. The need for seminars and conferences for networking is always mentioned, but usually as peripherals, or as part of induction into the academic community (Pearson 1999). There is persistent anecdotal evidence that some supervisors actually discourage students from being ‘distracted’ from their research project. The ambivalence as to the importance of such activity is reflected in the subscale of PREQ titled ‘Intellectual climate’ (originally titled ‘Faculty/departmental ethos’). The items in this subscale give a sense of what is involved, but little indication of the overall educational purpose (Ainley 2001, p. 14) as follows: • The department provided opportunities for social contact with other postgraduate students. • I was integrated into the department’s community. • A good seminar programme for postgraduate students was provided. • The department provided opportunities for me to become involved in the broader research culture. • The research ambience in the department or faculty stimulated my work.

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It could be argued that these items reflect traditional notions of departmental collegiality and research education as socialisation and induction into a disciplinary culture and into academia at a time when this is becoming less appropriate, as is the assumption of oncampus attendance. Changing circumstances of the kind already discussed mean that we need a way of explaining such social learning processes which do not presume socialisation into academia, and which can address the needs of students who are not located in traditional disciplinary based departments. An alternative attempt to map the dimensions of the research learning environment is presented in Pearson (1999, p. 282). The following dimensions for achieving high quality doctoral programs were posed as questions as to how to: • provide access to resources (and expertise) essential to conduct high-quality research; • give students flexibility/choice of learning and research conditions within a negotiated structure; • ensure adequate supervision for administrative matters, and for intellectual leadership, and identify who is responsible for what; • ensure students engage with practising researchers and are in conversation with a community of peers/experts/others; and • be responsive to students’ career goals and the opportunities and demands of relevant employment markets. However, these questions do not give specific guidance as to what is involved in action at the level of the research group or department. For this, we need to know more about how research groups and departments operate. More detail specific to science is given by Delamont et al. (1997), drawing on the study already mentioned, which identified in experimental science a particular way of building knowledge. In contrast to learning by direct transmission through a supervisor to their student, the science students they observed learnt appropriate problems and ways to go about experimenting through working in a laboratory where they learnt from other members of the lab. They often got their direct supervision from the postdoctoral researchers. Delamont and colleagues concluded that members of the laboratory may come and go but the process by which newcomers learn the socialised skills of laboratory work is stable over time. They called this process ‘pedagogic continuity’. The transferability of this model to other disciplines would appear to have some limits, and certainly Delamont and colleagues see it as very different from the


23

processes of research education in the social sciences. However, their analysis based on a close investigation of an established practice suggests that the so called ‘science model’ of close supervision, structure and group work is an incomplete, if not inaccurate, perception of the learning dynamic in research labs. A potentially more widely applicable approach may be emerging from current rethinking about apprenticeship-style approaches to learning. That research education is an apprenticeship is an oftenquoted view. Lave and Wenger (1991), in what they call an attempt to ‘rescue’ apprenticeship from metaphorical use, identify as the central defining characteristic a process that they called ‘legitimated peripheral participation’ (LPP). Learners participate in communities of practitioners where the mastery of knowledge and skill requires newcomers/apprentices to move to full participation. These communities of practice include participants of varying status, seniority and responsibilities (apprentices, masters [sic]) who learn together. There are a number of key aspects of the dynamics of these settings for learning (Lave and Wenger 1991, pp. 91–104). A master (or sponsor) legitimates apprentices as learners to participate as potential members, and access the practice. Their learning is usually given structure by work practices, rather than by ‘strongly asymmetrical master-apprentice relations’; although Lave and Wenger caution that the ordering of learning and that of everyday practice is not the same, so that informal learning is not ‘work-driven’. They go on to distinguish between a ‘teaching curriculum’, which is structured by the teacher, and a ‘learning curriculum’. The latter is described as ‘a field of learning resources in everyday practice viewed from the perspective of learners’. As such it consists of ‘situated opportunities...for the improvisational development of new practice’. The apprentices learn mostly in relation with one another and full participation includes engaging with the technology of the practice as well as social relations, which include those with others outside the community. This model has some similarities to that of Delamont and colleagues. Imported into research education, it would take the focus off the individual supervisor and give a framework for recognising the educational role and responsibilities of the research group as a community of practice. For example, a principle for distinguishing between communities of practice which are productive learning environments and those which are not would be that productive learning environments are those that provide the research students with work that opens up opportunities for learning the full range of the practice. Where a student is given a limited project to do with limited

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opportunity for exercising judgement or direction, they are being denied access to full participation and mastery—as Lave and Wenger (1991) describe it, they are being ‘sequestered’. The positioning of the student in LPP moving towards full participation is a more positive depiction than that of the student as ‘trainee’, and captures more sensitively the nuances of the research student position as both a learner and producer of knowledge. Nor are communities of practice necessarily inward looking. Griffiths and Guile (1999) have argued for a ‘connective model’ of learning in work-based contexts. This model stresses the need for communities of practice to remain open to other communities, and external ideas, to develop their knowledgeability and their ability to produce new knowledge, and for learners to interrogate and critically assess workplace practice and contexts. An understanding of how research communities operate effectively is particularly significant for a future where there will be a greater variety of arrangements in distributed settings. These models of situated learning—pedagogic continuity, LPP, communities of practice—provide explanations that are coherent and potentially powerful for analysing research education and supervision. They shift the focus from individual supervisors to the research group/department and the research learning environment. They give a sounder basis from which to consider enhancing that research learning environment for students, and they confirm that this requires the research group/department to explicitly recognise this as a significant collective educational responsibility.

Critical reflection and engagement with the scholarship of research education and supervision ‘Know thyself’ is a well-established first principle for effective change in many fields, especially those that involve interacting with others. In the case of supervisor development, what is needed is to make the familiar processes and behaviour sufficiently unfamiliar so that they can become objects of critical reflection and analysis at varying levels from the institutional to the personal. In this process supervisors can examine their own taken for granted expectations, and underlying models of the supervisory processes and research practice. This might mean looking at previous experience as a student and reflecting on what was significant and what is still influencing current behaviour, for better or worse. It could mean reflecting critically on one’s own research practice and management. Combined student and staff seminars or workshops on project management and/or methodology can create a forum for


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this. Another approach is to reflect on approaches to research, in addition to disciplinary differences. As established by Brew (2001) from an investigation of senior academics’ conceptions of research, there are a variety of conceptions of research which do not map onto disciplinary differences but which can strongly influence how researchers manage their research and their interaction with other researchers. It can also mean engaging critically with the pedagogical implications of issues and changes in one’s own field of research. It could mean establishing a current picture of research students in the field and in general and working through the educational implications for a department or research group (Pearson 1999). As discussed, an analysis of Australian doctoral students in 1996 (Pearson and Ford 1997, Evans and Pearson 2000) revealed that 65 percent were 30 years of age or more, and 39 percent were part time or external. Many will have family responsibilities. Experienced supervisors cannot assume that their research students are in circumstances, and have goals and expectations, similar to those of their own time as a research student. There are questions as to what will be the employment destinations of students and what capacities they are expected to have on completion of their degree, now that a majority do not go into academia. Are research students introduced to the full range of varying approaches to research methodology and theoretical perspectives that might best prepare them for diverse career outcomes? These various approaches to critical reflection will be more effective where they are framed by an understanding of the wider issues and scholarship of research education and supervision pedagogy, and related fields such as adult and professional education (Pearson and Brew 2002). Supervisors who engage with the debates and scholarship will be able to establish their own positions on the issues and make changes to their practice that are aware and informed. There is a growing literature to be drawn on for theoretical and practical perspectives, and national and international web-based resources. There are regular conferences, some held by individual institutions, some national. The best known is that coordinated by the South Australian universities which has become a forum for debate about current issues in research education, and an opportunity for researchers in the area, senior administrators, policy makers, students and their associations, and supervisors to meet and exchange ideas. The proceedings of these conferences, including the two refereed proceedings (Kiley and Mullins 1998; Kiley and Mullins 2000), have also made an important contribution to educating the educators. Participation of supervisors in such forums keeps debate and scholarship grounded in the realities

26


and concerns of academic practitioners, while connecting them to the issues of concern to the wider world outside academia.

Conclusion Research education faces many challenges in an increasingly complex and dynamic research environment. Supervision development must be addressed within this wider context and be capable of enabling research supervisors to respond effectively. Supervisors as professional educators are being expected to give more attention to their educational responsibilities, both to ensure the quality of their supervision, and to provide research education that prepares students for diverse employment outcomes. This demands more than enhancing their individual practice. It demands more collegial and structured approaches to research education and the research learning environment. Where this is accompanied by engagement with the debates and scholarship on research education and supervision, supervisors will be active agents in the development of research education, shaping its practice and how it is conceived. In this scenario, just as doing a research degree need not be a lonely journey, neither will being a supervisor.

Notes 1

This chapter is based on a paper presented at the Inaugural Research on Research Conference, Supervision: Changing Contexts, Changing Roles, Communities of Practice, RMIT, Melbourne, February 2002.

References Ainley, J. 2001, The 1999 Postgraduate Research Experience Questionnaire, Department of Employment, Education, Training and Youth Affairs Evaluation and Investigations Program, Canberra. ARC/NBEET 1996, Patterns of Research Activity in Australian Universities, Commissioned Report 47, Australian Government Publishing Service, Canberra. Argyris, C. 1990, Overcoming Organisational Defenses: Facilitating Organisational Learning, Allyn and Bacon, MA, USA. Becher, T. 1989, Academic Tribes and Territories: Intellectual Enquiry and the Cultures of Disciplines, Society for Research into Higher Education and the Open University Press, Buckingham. Brew, A. 2001, ‘Conceptions of research: A phenomenographic study’, Studies in Higher Education, vol. 26, no. 2, pp. 271–85.


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Bruce, C.S. 1996, ‘From neophyte to expert: Counting on reflection to facilitate complex conceptions of the literature review’, in Frameworks for Postgraduate Supervision and Research, ed. Ortrun Zuber-Skerritt, Southern Cross University Press, Lismore. Clark, B.R. 1987, The Academic Profession: National, Disciplinary and Institutional Settings, University of California Press, Berkeley. Clark, B.R. 1996, ‘Substantive growth and innovative organisation: New categories for higher education research’, Higher Education, vol. 32, pp. 417–30. Cullen, D.J., Pearson, M., Saha, L.J. and Spear, R.H. 1994, Establishing Effective PhD Supervision, Department of Employment, Education, Training and Youth Affairs, Evaluation and Investigations Program, Canberra. Delamont, S., Atkinson, P. and Parry, O. 1997, ‘Critical mass and doctoral research: Reflections on the Harris Report’, Studies in Higher Education, vol. 22, no. 3, pp. 319–31. Delamont, S., Atkinson, P. and Parry, O. 2000, The Doctoral Experience: Success and Failure in Graduate School, Falmer Press, London. Evans, T. and Pearson, M. 1999, ‘Off-campus doctoral research and study in Australia’, in Supervision of Postgraduate Research in Education, Review of Australian Research in Education, no. 5, eds A. Holbrook and S. Johnston, AARE, Victoria, pp. 185–203. Gallagher, M. 2000, ‘New directions in Australian research and research training policy – Some questions for researchers’, paper presented at the annual conference for the Australian Network for Higher Education Policy Research, Australian National University, Canberra, December. Green, W. and Lee, A. 1995, ‘Theorising postgraduate pedagogy’, The Australian Universities Review, vol. 38, no. 2, pp. 40–5. Griffiths, T. and Guile, D. 1999, ‘Pedagogy in work-based contexts’, in Understanding Pedagogy and Its Impact on Learning, ed. P. Mortimore, Sage, London. Gumport, P.J. 1993, ‘Graduate education and research imperatives: Views from American campuses’, in The Research Foundations of Graduate Education: Germany, Britain, France, United States, Japan, ed. B.R. Clark, University of California Press, Berkeley. Kiley, M. and Mullins, G. (eds) 2000, Quality in Postgraduate Research: Making Ends Meet. Proceedings of the 2000 Quality in Postgraduate Research Conference, Adelaide, April. Kiley, M. and Mullins, G. (eds) 1998, Quality in Postgraduate Research: Managing the New Agenda. Proceedings of the 1998 Quality in Postgraduate Research Conference, Adelaide, April.

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Latona, K. and Brown, M. 2001, Factors Associated with Completion of Research Higher Degrees, Report No. 37, Higher Education Series, Department of Employment, Education, Training and Youth Affairs, Canberra. Lave, J. and Wenger, E. 1991, Situated Learning: Legitimate Peripheral Participation, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge. Lee, A. and Williams, C. 1999, ‘Forged in fire: Narratives of trauma in PhD supervision pedagogy’, Southern Review, vol. 32, pp. 6–26. Martin, Y.M., Maclachlan, M. and Karmel, T. 1999 (released 2001), Postgraduate Completion Rates, Department of Employment, Education, Training and Youth Affairs, Canberra. Mullins, G. and Kiley, M. 2002, ‘It’s a PhD, not a Nobel Prize: How experienced examiners assess research theses’, Studies in Higher Education, vol. 27, p. 4. Pearson, M. 1996, ‘Professionalising PhD education to enhance the quality of the student experience’, Higher Education, vol. 32, pp. 303–20. Pearson, M. 1999, ‘The changing environment for doctoral education in Australia: Implications for quality management, improvement and innovation’, HERD, vol. 18, no. 3, pp. 269–87. Pearson, M. 2000, ‘Flexible postgraduate research supervision in an open system’, in Quality in Postgraduate Research: Making Ends Meet. Proceedings of the 2000 Quality in Postgraduate Research Conference, eds M. Kiley and G. Mullins, Adelaide, April, pp. 103–18. Pearson, M. 2001, ‘Research supervision – Mystery and mastery’, in Practice Knowledge and Expertise in the Health Professions, eds J. Higgs and A. Titchen, Butterworth-Heinemann, Oxford. Pearson, M. and Brew, A. 2002, ‘Research training and supervision development’, Studies in Higher Education, vol. 27, no. 2, pp. 135–50. Pearson, M. and Ford, L. 1997, Open and Flexible PhD Study and Research, Department of Employment, Education, Training and Youth Affairs, Evaluation and Investigations Program, Canberra. Powles, M. 1994, Postgraduates as Partners in University-Industry Liaisons: Postgraduates and Their Supervisors’ Experiences of the Australian Postgraduate Research Awards (Industry) Scheme, Department of Employment, Education, Training and Youth Affairs, Canberra. Reimer, A. 1998, Sandstone Gothic: Confessions of an Accidental Academic, Allen & Unwin, Sydney.


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Smith, B. 2000, ‘The challenge of making ends meet in postgraduate research training’, in Quality in Postgraduate Research: Making Ends Meet, Proceedings of the 2000 Quality in Postgraduate Research Conference, eds M. Kiley and G. Mullins, Adelaide, April, pp. 25–9. Tienery, W.G. and Rhoads, R.A. 1993, Enhancing Promotion, Tenure and Beyond, ASHE-ERIC Higher Education Report No. 6, George Washington University and ASHE, Washington DC. Trigwell, K., Shannon, T. and Maurizi, R. 1997, Research-coursework Doctoral Programs in Australian Universities, Department of Employment, Education, Training and Youth Affairs, Evaluation and Investigations Program, Canberra. Välimaa, J. 1998, ‘Culture and identity in higher education research’, Higher Education, vol. 36, pp. 119–38. West, R. 1998, Learning for Life: A Review of Higher Education Financing and Policy, Australian Government Publishing Service, Canberra.

CHAPTER 3

Partnership, protection and participation: challenges for research supervision in Aotearoa/New Zealand Tanya Fitzgerald Indigenous knowledge and Indigenous research has been the subject of intense and widespread debate in recent years. Numerous issues have been raised concerning access to Indigenous knowledge, the conduct of research with/in Indigenous communities and the ownership of the intellectual and cultural products of the research process. In particular I am interested in issues surrounding the conduct of Maori research, the re-production of Maori knowledge and the conduct of research with and for Maori communities by Maori postgraduate students in Aotearoa/New Zealand. This chapter will examine issues surrounding the research supervision of Maori postgraduate students, and outline ways in which one institution has attempted to address issues concerning the naming of research supervisors of Maori students and Maori knowledge. Further, it will propose a pedagogical framework to guide supervisors and Maori research students that seeks to establish a partnership between supervisor and student/learner.

Introduction Participation and success in society in the twenty-first century is frequently conceptualised and linked with the level of educational attainment. With increasing demands for levels of specialisation and expertise in professional occupations, there has been a consequent demand for access to, and success in, tertiary education. While tertiary qualifications have become a prerequisite to entry into professional work, postgraduate qualifications have become an apparatus for professional success and promotion. The rhetoric surrounding mecha30

Par tnership, protection and par ticipation

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nisms of success and achievement has been articulated in Aotearoa/ New Zealand as participation in the knowledge society and knowledge economy. Deeply problematic, therefore, is the construction and constitution of ‘what counts as knowledge’ and ‘whose knowledge counts’ (Apple 1993). These issues are simultaneously critical and central to the highly contested terrain of Indigenous education, on the one hand, and the provision of education for and about Indigenous peoples in institutions of education, on the other hand, particularly at postgraduate level. Although studies in postcolonial countries such as Aotearoa/New Zealand, Australia and Canada have charted the increasing participation of Indigenous groups in tertiary education (for example Barnhart 1991; Jefferies 1997; McTaggart 1991), few of these studies have described the actual experiences of postgraduate Indigenous research students. This chapter attempts to address (in part) this gap in the literature by documenting ways in which research supervision with Maori postgraduate students in Aotearoa/New Zealand might be conceptualised, negotiated and conducted.1 Research supervision, as Grant and Graham (1999) suggest, can be a troubled terrain. As with any pedagogical relationship, both students and supervisor(s) bring their own experiences, expectations, and perspectives to supervisory activities. Embedded in this already complex and ambiguous relationship are locations of class, gender, ethnicity and age that may contribute to ‘unequal underpinnings’ (Grant and Graham 1994, p. 165) of the supervisory process. While attention has been directed at examining gender and supervision (for example Gallop 1995; Heinrich 1995), and age and class to a lesser degree (Acker, Hill and Black 1994), ethnicity has been less explored (although studies have been conducted on the experiences of overseas students—see for example Aspland and O’Donoghue 1994). While possibilities of difference between students and supervisors have not been exhausted (for example sexuality, ability/disability), the increasing numbers of Indigenous postgraduate students that are participating in tertiary education in New Zealand in particular (Ministry of Education 2000) prompt the need for models of supervision and the supervisory relationship to be re-thought. A review of the literature reveals that little attention has been paid to effective cross-cultural supervision, and that the supervisory relationship in the western academic tradition has placed primacy on the positional power and evaluative role of the supervisor (Acker 1999; Schneider 1987). Questions are raised that necessitate a rethinking and re-conceptualisation of ways in which research supervision of Maori students and Maori knowledge might be conducted.

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This chapter seeks to address these issues and proposes a framework for a collaborative research supervision that is based on an intercultural partnership. This chapter is deeply personal. My interest in examining the problematic nature of the construction, production and legitimation of knowledge via the research supervision process is played out against a backdrop of my own ambivalent positioning within a tertiary educational institution. As a Pakeha (white) woman academic, I am invited by Maori students to act as their research supervisor. In these instances, I feel a connectedness with Cathryn McConaghy’s argument that ‘white women are often the “work horses” of Indigenous education at all levels’ (2000, p. 3). This is not to offer a lament but to signal the inherently political nature of my work as an academic and a research supervisor. Underpinning these broad identities are further complexities and inadequacies. As a researcher my interests lie in two areas: Indigenous women and educational leadership, and the history of Maori education in Aotearoa/New Zealand. As a postgraduate research supervisor I have responsibility for Maori students and those students are engaged in projects that are for, and about, Maori communities. Yet I question the legitimacy of my role and the institutional authority that permits me to participate in the production of Maori knowledge via the intellectual labour of postgraduate students. Who made these decisions? How were the decisions made that sanctioned my inclusion and participation? These are central and repeatedly asked questions that this chapter will explore in order to propose a framework for research supervision that locates Maori students, Maori research and Maori knowledge in a primary position.

Contemporary challenges In Aotearoa/New Zealand, as in most countries in the Western world, there has been an exponential growth in postgraduate education coupled with increasing government pressure for universities to be more productive and accountable, and to directly contribute to the development of a knowledge economy and knowledge society. Concomitant with this scrutiny has been the proliferation of debates concerning the composition, relevance and structure of postgraduate degrees (Ministry of Education 2000). Consequently there is now a substantial body of research about postgraduate education. In particular, attention has focused on research supervision and teaching (Holbrook and Johnston 1999), the problematic nature and purposes


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of postgraduate education (Yeatman 1995), organisational and administrative processes (Houston and Rees 1999), pedagogy (Middleton 2001), the supervisory relationship (Grant and Graham 1999), and the role of distance education (Evans 1998). A number of interrelated factors can affect the quality of the supervisory process: the goals of each participant, expectations, ways in which communication occurs, the (professional) relationship between supervisor and student, as well as life experiences that each person brings to the encounter. In other words, research supervision does not take place in a vacuum. Expectations and perspectives as well as the educational experiences, gender, ethnicity, social location and personal circumstances of each individual are deeply embedded in the relationship and add to its complexity, ambiguity and contradictory nature. Yet, as Leong and Wagner (1994) have commented, there is a paucity of empirical information on which to base an understanding of how research supervision and the supervisory relationship might be practised that, in particular, takes into account cross-cultural perceptions. This, therefore, has implications for the training of research supervisors and the development of skills and knowledge needed to effectively supervise postgraduate students from a range of cultural, ethnic and racial backgrounds (Fong and Lease 1997; Gardner 2002). Although the research evidence cannot conclusively identify how race, culture and ethnicity might affect the supervisory relationship, Page (2003) challenges supervisors to examine their own practices, worldviews and (racial) identity to determine how these factors might contribute to their complex and ambiguous relationship with their postgraduate students. A broad survey of the literature concerning postgraduate research supervision points to the suggestion that postgraduate students have been theorised about as if they are an homogenous group. And, at the very least, distinctions between and among students have collapsed in the attempt to provide a troublesome meta-narrative that universalises the complex nature of postgraduate research and postgraduate research supervision. As Baird (1990) suggests, students of colour have been located as the forgotten minority. Or, a further possibility is that Indigenous students (as a whole) are situated as a minority group and, more specifically, that Indigenous postgraduate students are a minority group in a minority setting. This, therefore, adds to their marginalisation. This is not, however, a call for the ‘adding on’ of the voices of Indigenous postgraduate students to narratives concerned with postgraduate research education and management. The effect of discourses of sameness is paralysing and has the potential effect of

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constraining Indigenous students to work in particular ways. Discussing differences and distinctiveness, however, is contested and dangerous terrain and has the potential to create what can be termed ‘a monoculture of the powerful’. That is, whiteness is the taken for granted norm and is deemed to be stable, unified and homogenous. Difference is, therefore, expressed as a corollary of whiteness. This is a further complicating factor in an already ambiguous relationship between supervisor and student. It is not sufficient to consider an inclusionary agenda; the key issue is not unity no matter how inclusive of difference, but the practices and relationships of power, as Grant and Graham (1999) have indicated. The relationship between supervisor and student and the product of this relationship is traditionally cast as a dualism with one side being the less powerful, although the power relationships that set up the dualism in the first place are typically ignored. Thus, we have male/female, non-white/white and supervisor/student dichotomies that ‘inclusionary’ pedagogies attempt to bring together and transcend difference. Rather than viewing them as stumbling blocks to be avoided, examination of these differences and relationships is the place to begin. The goal is not to replicate these power relationships but to challenge and change them. In this way there is the possibility that the dynamics of the supervisor/student relationship might be challenged, changed and strengthened. One of the possible ways this might be facilitated in Aotearoa/New Zealand is via the discourses and practices contained in Te Tiriti o Waitangi (The Treaty of Waitangi, 1840).

Challenges in Aotearoa/New Zealand Given the bicultural environment in which educators in Aotearoa/New Zealand are located and conduct their intellectual work, it is imperative that we engage in efforts to theorise ethnicity and understand how constructions of ethnicity in general and biculturalism specifically affect our actions and decisions. One of the central dilemmas is to understand what Kincheloe (1999) refers to as ‘a pedagogy of whiteness’ and the ways in which this affects the research supervision process. Such a pedagogy calls for the development of a ‘power literacy’ that, in turn, calls for an explicit appreciation of power differences between white and non-white, and of ways in which ethnicity (including whiteness) shapes privilege, social outlook and identity. Embedded in the supervisory relationship are the politics of position that create a hierarchical identity between supervisor and stu-


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dent. In terms of the politics of university administration, the supervisor is positioned as the authority within the hierarchical relationship. The terms ‘supervision’ and ‘supervisor’ contain overtones that suggest this relationship is concerned with, and directed to, the ‘looking over’ or ‘looking after’ the other. Furthermore, research supervision and the authoritative role and gaze of the research supervisor are embedded with dilemmas and difficulties that are exacerbated and brought into sharp relief when cultural differences come into play. There are bureaucratic solutions that are designed to facilitate the supervisory relationship. For example, institutions require supervisors to follow a code of conduct, remain research active and have knowledge of the field of study. While these policy imperatives may establish and formalise the relationship between supervisor and research student, the act of initiating and authorising does not in itself eliminate the complex pedagogy of negotiation, dialogue and the institutional dynamics of power and authority. Supervision and supervisory practices are located in university pedagogies that are historically produced. This has a particular resonance for Aotearoa/New Zealand. In Aotearoa/New Zealand there is a constitutional commitment to the terms of Te Tiriti o Waitangi that acknowledges Maori as tangata whenua (the people of the land). The three principles that underpin this treaty are partnership, participation and protection (http://maori.com/treaty.htm). The expectation is that these principles will guide all aspects of public and civil activities. More specifically, in terms of the provision of education and its delivery by all educational institutions there are a number of unequivocal principles, as Bishop and Glynn (1999) have shown. In the first instance, Maori were guaranteed a share in decision making (partnership); secondly, the mandate to define, guard and treasure their knowledge and language (protection); and thirdly, the benefits of involvement in education at all levels (participation). Institutions of the state, such as schools and universities, are obligated to publicly state their commitment to the three principles that underpin this treaty—partnership, protection and participation. For example, in its charter, UNITEC (my own institution) has publicly asserted its commitment to ‘honour the Treaty of Waitangi’, ‘accept the need for a partnership with the tangata whenua’ and acknowledge its ‘responsibility to encourage and assist Maori students’ (UNITEC Charter 1999). This public declaration raises further questions concerning how this partnership might be constructed, articulated and legitimated, and by whom. The suggestion could also be put forward that the principles on which Te Tiriti o Waitangi is based provide an

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opportunity for institutions to engage in a partnership with Maori students and the wider Maori community in order that appropriate curricula and pedagogies can be created (Hemara 2000). This is both difficult and deeply problematic, particularly for the academy. Therein lies the challenge—the institutionalisation of partnership within institutional policies and practices. One of the difficulties that exists is that there is a dearth of research publicly available to assist tertiary policy makers in making decisions about the participation of Maori in tertiary programs in New Zealand institutions. Important statistics have not been systematically and consistently collected to confirm the existence or otherwise of trends in Maori tertiary education. Unlike the compulsory school sector, until recently the universities, polytechnics, colleges of education, private training establishments and wananga (Maori universities, of which there are currently three) have not been required to systematically and publicly account for the success and retention of Maori students. More importantly, the central question of what it means to be an Indigenous postgraduate research student in education has yet to be asked. What is involved in being subject-ed to education (Green and Lee 1999) and simultaneously being subject-ed to educational research supervision?

Institutional case study As educational institutions of the state, universities are bureaucratic establishments with a legislated mandate to provide programs to advance intellectual knowledge and accredit those who successfully manoeuvre their way through the ‘system’ with a qualification. This structure works to the detriment of Maori, who find this ‘space’ alienating and inflexible (Morrison 1999). I would like to turn now to examining ways in which one tertiary institution in Aotearoa/New Zealand has attempted to recognise the primacy of Te Ao Maori (the Maori world). UNITEC Institute of Technology is located in the west of Auckland’s central business district, on 55 hectares of park-like grounds. The institution celebrated its twenty-fifth birthday in 2002 and it prides itself on providing a comprehensive range of programs and qualifications from bridging education to PhD, all of which focus on the needs of the relevant industry or profession and appropriate applied research. In 2001, 15,000 students (7,623 equivalent fulltime) were enrolled in a variety of part-time and full-time programs. Over 50 percent of these students were enrolled in degree programs


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and 5 percent in postgraduate programs, and 9 percent of this student population identified themselves as Maori on their enrolment forms ().2 In recent years the participation of Maori students across the institution has increased (Annual Reports 1996–2001). A close analysis of these statistics reveals that the majority of Maori students are enrolled in diploma and certificate courses. Furthermore, less than 1 percent of postgraduate enrolments are Maori students. While this may appear to be a depressing picture, the overall participation of Maori across all tertiary sectors is low. For example, the 2000 Tertiary Education statistics indicate that of the 40,161 Maori students enrolled in tertiary institutions in New Zealand, only 4 percent were enrolled in postgraduate programs (Ministry of Education 2000). Data also reveal that Maori are more likely to be enrolled in non-university tertiary programs (Ministry of Education 2000). While it can be argued that universities do not traditionally offer programs that attract Maori students (namely undergraduate certificates and diplomas), a further possibility exists that (some) non-university educational institutions offer (some) programs and institutional frameworks that recognise, support and encourage Maori participation. This is not to suggest that the universities (or some of their departments) do not provide a cultural framework and culturally appropriate pedagogies for Maori students. What would, however, appear to be a significant and sobering lesson for polytechnics is their capacity to attract Maori students based on the range of programs on offer. In a diverse tertiary market, a key institutional challenge for polytechnics to consider is ways in which increasing numbers of postgraduate Maori students can be encouraged to enrol and complete qualifications at this level. While an understanding of the barriers that have historically excluded Maori from participation in education particularly at the tertiary level is important, institutions need to provide structures and opportunities for Maori to work in an environment that is culturally and pedagogically appropriate. In other words, institutions need to move beyond the construct of being a ‘Pakeha (white) institution’. In response to this challenge, UNITEC has initiated a partnership model that is providing a framework for policy and (localised) action. As part of the 2000 Equal Employment Opportunity (EEO) strategy embedded in the Strategic Plan, UNITEC identified the need to develop a document that identified and publicly stated the institution’s commitment to Te Tiriti o Waitangi. As a result of the work of a group of Maori and Pakeha across the institution committed to

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these principles, a document titled Te Noho Kotahitanga or The Partnership was produced. Written in both Maori and English, the two official languages of Aotearoa, with the Maori language positioned on the left-hand side of the document (the first side viewed in the Western method of reading), Te Noho Kotahitanga espouses the following values: Figure 1: Te Noho Kotahitanga Preamble The Treaty of Waitangi is the founding document of New Zealand. UNITEC acknowledges the great importance of this living, dynamic document, and will continue to respect and promote the equal standing which it confers on Maori and Pakeha. UNITEC will put the following values into practice in pursuing its goals: I – Authority and Responsibility UNITEC accepts the principle that Maori have authority over and responsibility for all teaching and learning relating to the Maori dimensions of knowledge. II – Legitimacy UNITEC believes that each partner has a legitimate right to be here, to speak freely in either language, and to put its resources to use for the benefit of all. III – Guardianship UNITEC accepts responsibility as a critical guardian of knowledge. IV – Co-operation UNITEC affirms that a spirit of generosity and co-operation will guide all its actions. V – Respect UNITEC values each partner’s heritage and customs, current needs and future aspirations. Maori and Pakeha working together within UNITEC.

Source: The Facts/The Partnership

Each of the principles documented in Figure 1 has a number of goals to ensure accountability between the Partnership Committee and the Senior Management team. With the increasing number of Maori postgraduate students at UNITEC, several issues have arisen that have presented the Partnership Committee with a range of opportunities to implement ‘partnership-in-action’. In the first instance the Partnership Committee has had to grapple with determining who can


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be named and identified as an appropriate supervisor of postgraduate Maori research students, particularly as the majority of registered supervisors are Pakeha. In conjunction with the resolution of this issue, the Partnership Committee will need to provide advice and guidance regarding the naming of research supervisors. This needs to be more than a matching of supervisor and student based on the research topic or methodology. Cultural appropriateness needs to be considered. Thirdly, the Partnership Committee needs to be assured that the issues of responsibility for the appropriate supervision of projects that involve the (re)production of matauranga Maori (Maori knowledge) and, finally, of how Maori knowledge and tikanga Maori might be treasured, guarded and positioned within the academy have been addressed. At present Te Noho Kotahitanga represents the espoused values of UNITEC. Issues such as the participation of Maori students and the protection of Maori knowledge arguably fall within the boundaries of both UNITEC Charter goals in general and Te Noho Kotahitanga directly. Tensions exist however in the elusive search by UNITEC for ways to simultaneously meet both its corporate goals and the principles embedded in Te Tiriti o Waitangi and Te Noho Kotahitanga. In the political climate in which UNITEC exists, it is a strategic requirement that for reasons of academic credibility, supervisors need to be authorised to participate in the supervisor–student relationship according to a set of predetermined criteria. For example, evidence needs to be provided of qualifications, recent publications, previous supervisory experience and thesis examination and the demonstration of national and international credibility in the discipline. These criteria are indicative of those operating within other universities and reflect increasing demands on both academics and the academy to establish quality management systems for both research and research supervision. A reading of these criteria would suggest, however, a limited cultural perception of who counts as a research supervisor and who is counted (and who decides). Read broadly, the Register of Supervisors has produced a configuration of a ‘supervisor identity’. That is, the central preoccupation of the supervisor is the production of publicly available (and completed) research and the examination and supervision of the research of ‘others’. The authenticity and authority of research supervisors is shaped, defined and institutionalised on academic credentials. The articulation and reproduction of the identity of the supervisor is based on assumptions that are gendered and raced. For example, the demand that research must be ‘recent’ and that a

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timeframe of five years determines recency does not permit the interruption of academic work for childrearing, familial or community responsibilities. Similarly, the acquisition of academic credentials concludes that this is positioned as higher status knowledge than cultural knowledge and status. Furthermore, the lack of attention paid to identifying and considering how it might be appropriate to treasure, guard and protect Maori knowledge indicates that this is not viewed as important. How then might the guardian of the Register of Supervisors reconcile this with the Partnership document? While the Register of Supervisors might establish an academic staff member’s credibility within the academy, what is more problematic is the capacity of both the institution and individual to demonstrate credibility to supervise Maori students and to treasure, guard and protect Maori knowledge. At one level the complex demands of kaupapa Maori research, the philosophy of being and acting Maori (Smith 1997) can be met if research students are themselves Maori, although the demands of local iwi (tribe) can be more exacting, with wide-ranging responsibilities and accountabilities. At another level, one of the difficulties that currently exists is that, given the shortage of senior Maori academics, Maori postgraduate students are working alongside Pakeha academics as supervisors of their research. As a Pakeha academic working with Maori research students, I struggle with notions of legitimacy and authenticity. While my academic credentials validate my role as a research supervisor, I am troubled by the fact that I am neither a legitimate nor an authentic guardian of matauranga Maori and kaupapa Maori research. If the supervision relationship is complex, ambiguous and contradictory, as pointed out earlier in this chapter, exigencies of ethnicity add a complicating dimension. How might Maori students and Maori knowledge be recognised and legitimated, and by whom? Secondly, how might partnership with Maori students, called for under the terms of Te Tiriti o Waitangi (1840), be established, and on whose terms? While there is no unitary answer to these complex questions, the possibility exists that a framework that invokes a partnership relationship might provide an informing mechanism.

Implications for supervisory practices For Indigenous students and those working in the area of Indigenous knowledge, impositional supervision arrangements have the capacity to perpetuate and repeat patterns of dominance and subordination (Fong and Lease 1997; Gardner 2002). If the authority rests with an


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individual, the supervisor, this has the potential to deny the legitimate representation and participation of Indigenous students in the production of Indigenous knowledge (Smith 1999). What is needed, therefore, is a sharing of the knowledge and a re-positioning of the authoritative voice/identity. In this way, Indigenous knowledge and Indigenous ways of knowing could be legitimated. There are several ways in which this might be facilitated. In the first instance, a relationship between supervisor and student needs to be established that recognises the mana (influence) and whakapapa (genealogy) of each person and their wider family and networks. This joint understanding may produce a ‘whanau (family) of interest’ (Bishop and Glynn 1999, p. 121) that has the capacity to extend the relationship to a partnership. Secondly, the forming of a relationship based on a Maori kaupapa (protocol) offers the possibility that all parties can engage meaningfully in the process and that the distance between supervisor and student can be lessened. In this way, the responsibility is placed on the supervisor to develop a ‘participatory consciousness’ (Heshusius 1994). What is being called for, therefore, is a pedagogy that provides a kaupapa for Maori research supervision and the production of Maori knowledge that recognises the primacy of partnership. Bishop and Glynn (1999) have called for a ‘new pedagogy that recognises that all people who are involved in the teaching–learning process are participants who have meaningful experiences, valid concerns and legitimate questions’ (1999, p. 201). While a model initially constructed by Bishop and Graham (1997) and adapted by Bishop and Glynn (1999) is directed at asking questions about research that are for and about Maori, similar questions can be asked of the process of the supervision of Maori research and Maori knowledge or, indeed, Indigenous knowledge and Indigenous research supervision. The Maori/Indigenous Research Partnership Model (IRPM) that is detailed in Figure 2 has been constructed and conceptualised in partnership with Maori postgraduate students I currently work and engage with as a research supervisor. I have consciously labelled this figure with the terms Maori/Indigenous in order that research supervisor with Indigenous students across a range of settings and countries might adapt and adopt the principles on which the model has been established. One of the central assumptions underpinning this model is an understanding that there is no unitary way in which supervision, in any tradition, might be conducted. Of critical importance is an acknowledgement that in terms of the supervisory relationship based on an intercultural partnership, key issues need to be

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negotiated at the outset. Questions that could be asked as an integral element of the IRPM model form the basis for the negotiation of the research partnership. Figure 2: Maori/Indigenous Research Partnership Model (IRPM) Article 1: Partnership

Article 2: Protection

Article 3: Participation

Initiation

Who initiates the supervision? What does each party bring to the relationship?

What are the goals of the supervision and research project?

Who sets the agenda (kaupapa) and designs the work?

Benefits

What benefits will What difference there be and for will this research whom? How is make for Maori? this decided and by whom?

Representation

Whose interests, needs and concerns underpin the supervision?

Legitimation

What authority Who determines does each person what is accurate have? and how the findings might be theorised?

Accountability

Who are the supervisor and student accountable to?

Who will derive the benefits from the supervision and the research output?

What agency Whose voice is does each heard? Who will do individual have the work? and how might this be exercised? What happens to the research output? Who makes the decisions?

Who will have Who has control access to the over the knowledge that is distribution of the produced? knowledge?

Source: adapted from Bishop and Graham 1997.

The IRPM model proposes a move away from a relationship based on a supervisor–student hierarchy to one that encourages active engagement in a partnership with Maori students in the production of matauranga Maori (Maori knowledge). In this way, Maori aspirations, preferences and practices are placed at the centre of the process, thereby encouraging a sense of Maori ownership and active control (Durie 1998). Such a position is consistent with the principles of Te


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Tiriti o Waitangi (1840) and the establishment of a relationship based on partnership between two peoples. The emphasis on dialogue, negotiation and joint decisions reflects kaupapa Maori principles that support Maori aspirations for an autonomous and authoritative voice (Bishop and Glynn 1999). What is being suggested therefore, is a need to examine more closely the interpersonal relationship between supervisor and research student and ways in which an intercultural partnership might strengthen this process. Models of supervision that currently exist in the Western academic tradition include the Apprentice Master Model (AMM) (Yeatman 1995) and the Collaborative Cohort Model (CCM) (Burnett 1999), which attempt to provide academic support, advice and guidance to increase completion rates in particular and the quality of research supervision in general. The model proposed in Figure 2 combines elements of AMM and CCM with the objective of providing a model of supervision that recognises the need for a negotiated model that establishes a partnership in the research process. This is not to suggest that research supervisors do not act in partnership with students; in asking the questions the model has outlined and negotiating aspects of the research, research process and research outcomes, what is being proposed is an explicit research partnership model (IRPM). A further challenge to the research supervision process embedded in Figure 2 is that patterns of interaction are based on Maori ways of knowing that invoke initiation, representation, legitimation and accountability. For example, Grant and Graham (1999), among others, have repeatedly called for the need for supervisors and students to enter into a contract that clearly sets the agenda and protocols for the relationship. While this practice is valuable, in terms of the supervision of Maori students and Maori knowledge there are several difficulties in this approach. In the first instance, the structure and composition of a written contract may offer no meaning. For Maori in particular, an oral agreement between two or more parties is binding and sufficient. Secondly, a written (and presumably pre-drafted) contract works to the benefit of the writer. In most cases, this is the supervisor. It is questionable whether or not the student has the power or the capacity to seek a change to a supervision contract. Figure 2 therefore presents a framework for consideration and discussion by both supervisor and student to discuss the issues raised and arrive at a common understanding of how the relationship might proceed. In this way both parties jointly own the process and its outcomes. Finally, this model opens up the possibility that supervision becomes a process based on partnership, protection and participation.

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Conclusion The participation of Maori students in postgraduate programs in Aotearoa/New Zealand falls behind that of their Pakeha counterparts. While barriers that have prevented Maori enrolment in tertiary institutions have been identified (Jefferies 1997), institutions must also look inwards with a critical gaze to uncover and understand ways in which their policies and practices have discouraged Maori participation. I suspect similar challenges and questions can be directed at educational institutions in Australia, Canada, Hawai’i and the United States where education for/with/by First Nations peoples remains on the political agenda and an integral component of the educational landscape and the desire to create a knowledge society. Questions raised in this chapter point to tensions inherent in the value of knowledge and its reproduction and dissemination, the ongoing need for Maori to protect their own knowledge and cultural property and the aspirations of research supervisors to ensure that the scholarly production of this knowledge by postgraduate students is achieved. More significantly, concerns such as the ownership of intellectual property, the storage of knowledge and judgements about its value and usefulness need to be publicly voiced, debated and critiqued. This chapter has pointed to the inherently complex, contradictory and troubling ways in which research supervision and the supervisory relationship have been constructed and conceptualised. Supervision, and being supervised, is not an absolute and rational activity that can be exercised in culturally-specific ways. As research supervisors we need to sincerely question our own practices and pedagogies of supervision to consider ways in which a partnership with students might be facilitated. One of the ways this can be partially achieved is through the authentication of Indigenous students’ voices and the recognition of Indigenous ways of knowing. What is needed is for research institutions to critique their own policies and practices to uncover the dominant discourses surrounding the supervision and production of knowledge. It is timely to suggest that empirical studies are conducted that document the experiences of Indigenous postgraduate research students to inform the development of culturally responsive supervision models. Although conclusions from this suggested research could inform current thinking about postgraduate research supervision, ways in which the supervisory relationship may be inhibited due to the over-interpretation or under-interpretation of issues of race and ethnicity are worthy of further investigation.


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Notes 1

In this chapter, those postgraduate students who identify as Maori are referred to. One of the inherent difficulties in collecting statistics based on ethnicity in general and identifying as Maori in particular is that students may not wish to identify themselves. A number of reasons have been put forward to explain this: in the first instance, Maori who are located in an urban environment may not be able to name links with their land, hapu and iwi; secondly, as Maori are likely to be in the minority in classrooms, they may not wish to position themselves for particular attention. In this chapter, attention has not been focused on the supervisory relationship for Maori supervisors and Pakeha (white) students. Additional work in this area is required.

2

These figures were current at time of writing; the 2004 figures can be accessed at The Facts/Facts and figures.

References Acker, S. 1999, ‘Students and supervisors: The ambiguous relationship. Perspectives on the supervisory process in Britain and Canada’, in Supervision of Postgraduate Research in Education, eds A. Holbrook and A. Johnston, Australian Association for Research in Education, Victoria, pp. 75–94. Acker, S., Hill, T. and Black, E. 1994, ‘Research students in education and psychology: Diversity and empowerment’, International Studies in Sociology of Education, vol. 4, no. 2, pp. 229–51. Apple, M.W. 1993, Official Knowledge: Democratic Education in a Conservative Age, Routledge, New York. Aspland, T. and O’Donoghue, T. 1994, ‘Quality in supervising overseas students?’, in Quality in Postgraduate Education, eds O. ZuberSkeritt and Y. Ryan, Kegan Paul, London, pp. 59–76. Baird, L. 1990, ‘The melancholy of anatomy: The personal and professional development of graduate and professional school students’, in Higher Education: Handbook of Theory and Research, Vol. 6, ed. J.C. Smart, Agathon Press, New York, pp. 261–392. Barnhardt, R. 1991, ‘Higher education in the Fourth World’, Tribal College, vol. 3, no. 2, pp. 11–26. Bishop, R. and Glynn, T. 1999, Culture Counts: Changing Power Relations in Education, Dunmore Press, Palmerston North NZ. Bishop, R. and Graham, S. 1997, Implementing Treaty of Waitangi Charter Goals in Tertiary Institutions: A Case Study, Syndicate of Educational Development Centres of New Zealand Amenities, Wellington. Burnett, P. 1999, ‘The supervision of doctoral dissertations using a collaborative cohort model’, Counselor Education & Supervision, vol. 39, no. 1, pp. 46–52.

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Durie, M. 1998, Te Mana, Te Kawanatanga: The Politics of Maori SelfDetermination, Oxford University Press, Auckland. Evans, T. 1998, ‘Postgraduate research supervision in the emerging “open” universities’, in Postgraduate Studies/Postgraduate Pedagogy, eds A. Lee and B. Green, University of Technology, Sydney, pp. 77–89. Fong, M. and Lease, S. 1997, ‘Cross-cultural supervision: Issues for the white supervisor’, in Multicultural Counselling Competencies: Assessment, Education and Training and Supervision, eds D. PopeDavis and H. Coleman, Sage, Thousand Oaks, CA, pp. 380–407. Gallop, J. 1995, ‘The teacher’s breasts’, in Pedagogy: the Question of Impersonation, ed. J. Gallop, Indiana University Press, Bloomington, pp. 79–89. Gardner, R. 2002, ‘Cross-cultural perspectives in supervision’, The Western Journal of Black Studies, vol. 26, no. 2, pp. 98–106. Grant, B. and Graham, A. 1994, ‘Guidelines for discussion: A tool for managing postgraduate supervision’, in Quality in Postgraduate Education, eds O. Zuber-Skeritt and Y. Ryan, Kegan Paul, London, pp. 165–77. Grant, B. and Graham, A. 1999, ‘Naming the game: Reconstructing graduate supervision’, Teaching in Higher Education, vol. 4, no. 1, pp. 77–89. Green, B. and Lee, A. 1999, ‘Educational research, disciplinarity and postgraduate pedagogy: On the subject of supervision’, in Supervision of Postgraduate Research in Education, eds A. Holbrook and A. Johnston, Australian Association for Research in Education, Victoria, pp. 207–23. Heinrich, K. 1991, ‘Loving partnerships: Dealing with sexual attraction and power in doctoral advisement relationships’, Journal of Higher Education, vol. 62, pp. 514–38. Hemara, W. 2000, Maori Pedagogies: A View from the Literature, New Zealand Council for Educational Research, Wellington. Heshusius, L. 1994, ‘Freeing ourselves from objectivity: Managing subjectivity or turning toward a participatory mode of consciousness?’, Educational Researcher, vol. 23, no. 3, pp. 15–22. Holbrook, A. and Johnston, S. 1999, ‘The many facets of research supervision in education’, in Supervision of Postgraduate Research in Education, eds A. Holbrook and A. Johnston, Australian Association for Research in Education, Victoria, pp. 3–14. Houston, D. and Rees, M. 1999, ‘Developing a quality management system for a postgraduate education programme: A case study’, Journal of Higher Education Policy & Management, vol. 21, no. 2, pp. 227–39.


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Jefferies, R. 1997, Maori Participation in Tertiary Education: Barriers & Strategies to Overcome Them, Te Puni Kokiri, Wellington. Kincheloe, J. 1999, ‘The struggle to define and invent whiteness: A pedagogical analysis’, College Literature, vol. 26, no. 3, pp. 162–94. Leong, F. and Wagner N. 1994, ‘Cross-cultural factors in counselling supervision: What do we know? What do we need to know?’, Counselor Education and Supervision, vol. 34, pp. 117–31. McConaghy, C. 2000, Rethinking Indigenous Education: Culturalism, Colonialism & the Politics of Knowing, Post Pressed, Brisbane. McTaggart, R. 1991, ‘Western institutional impediments to Australian Aboriginal education’, Journal of Curriculum Studies, vol. 23, no. 4, pp. 297–325. Middleton, S. 2001, Educating Researchers: New Zealand Education PhDs 1948–1998, New Zealand Association for Research in Education, Hamilton. Ministry of Education 2000, New Zealand’s Tertiary Education Sector Report, (accessed 8 March 2003). Morrison, A. 1999, ‘Creating a space for Maori in tertiary institutions: Exploring two sites at the University of Auckland’, unpublished MEd thesis, The University of Auckland. Page, M. 2003, ‘Race, culture and the supervisory relationship: A review of the literature and a call to action’, Journal of Curriculum and Supervision, vol. 18, no. 2, pp. 161–74. Schneider, B. 1987, ‘Graduate women, sexual harassment and university policy’, Journal of Higher Education, vol. 58, pp. 46–65. Smith, G. 1997, ‘The development of Kaupapa Maori: Theory and praxis’, unpublished PhD thesis, The University of Auckland. Smith, L.T. 1999, Decolonising Methodologies, Research and Indigenous Peoples, University of Otago Press, Dunedin. Te Tiriti o Waitangi 1840, . The University of Auckland 2001, ‘Maori in the university sector’, Catching the Knowledge Wave Conference, Auckland. UNITEC Institute of Technology 1996–2001, Annual Reports, Auckland. UNITEC Institute of Technology 1999, Charter, Auckland. UNITEC Institute of Technology 2001, Te Noho Kotahitanga/The Partnership, The Facts/The Partnership. Yeatman, A. 1995, ‘Making supervision relationships accountable: Graduate student logs’, Australian Universities’ Review, vol. 38, no. 1, pp. 9–11.

CHAPTER 4

Collaborative knowledge management and the art of coaching: reflections on the diverse roles of the successful supervisor Jo Reidy and Pam Green Research degrees in times of change Throughout the past decade, university educators and educational policy makers in Australia have sought to understand and improve the policies and practices upon which research degrees have been founded. The changing context of the research training landscape has been examined and the role of the research supervisor has received increasing attention as far-reaching changes are made to policies, research imperatives and expanding research degree frameworks (Green 2003; Green and Usher 2003; Pearson and Cryer 2001). Research supervision is a complex activity in which the supervisor and the candidate embark on a journey together along seemingly separate, but inextricably entwined, pathways. This we all know. Those of us who supervise understand the complexities deeply: not only from our experiences as supervisors, but also as people who have been candidates in the past. Although the passing of time or our own research histories may make our own student experiences somewhat remote, they are still memorable and, according to the study by Lee and Williams (1999), continue to resonate, having a direct impact on the ways in which we supervise current research students. The need to consider the ways in which our own student experiences of supervision colour our supervisory practices is more imperative than ever given the context of higher education with respect to research degrees. This chapter seeks to look once again at supervision and supervisory practices, but from the viewpoint of an experienced supervisor 48

Collaborative knowledge management and the ar t of coaching

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(Green) and one of her successful doctoral candidates (Reidy), now ready to supervise doctorates for the first time. We consider briefly the current context in which our supervisory space resides, namely, higher education in Australia. Secondly, we look at supervision in terms of collaborative knowledge management. Thirdly, we move to critically reflect upon our own practices as supervisor and as supervisee and the journey that has taken us from coach and novice, mentor and mentee to friendly professional colleagues. In the chapter, we present some close-grained work based on interviews and the resulting transcripts. In doing so, we aim to generate further insights into supervision practices, the candidate’s journey and the strategies by which one can enrich the other, in the hope that readers might find some applicability to their own reflections upon their supervisory practices or their experiences as a candidate.

Research training in the context of Australian higher education The current situation in higher education in Australia, which centres on the Research Training Scheme (the RTS) (introduced midway into 2001), is such that academics in Australia have been placed under increasing pressure to supervise ‘well’ and to ensure also that the research student reaches completion as speedily as possible. Given that we are consequently positioned in a context of performativity (Lyotard 1984)—that is, a context in which performance is rewarded by fiscal gain (to the university in this instance) and precious research places—we must supervise well but ‘fast’ (Green and Usher 2003). Under the RTS, Australian universities are rewarded for successful, timely completions. Arguably, this creates pressure on supervisors and candidates. Hence, in this period of ‘fast supervision’, it is even more crucial than ever before to consider the nature of supervision from the perspective of both supervisor and candidate. Predictably, given the changes sketched in above, in recent times there has been an increased focus on supervisory practices. Australian universities, like our counterparts in the United Kingdom, have introduced supervisory ‘training’ (Pearson and Cryer 2001), or rather what we would prefer to term increased professional development of research supervisors. This has occurred during a time in which degree frameworks have extended considerably. Most Australian universities have expanded their research degree options. For instance, at RMIT University (the university where both supervisor and candidate were situated when the candidate was enrolled in her PhD), academic staff oversee a comprehensive range of research

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degree offerings including PhD, PhD by project, PhD by publication, professional doctorates, masters by research and masters by project. While it is outside the realms of this chapter to consider the ramifications of supervising across such an array of options, it does highlight the increasingly complex nature of the context in which research supervision is pursued. If the past decade has seen a broadening of the diversity of the doctoral programs on offer (Usher 2002), recent discussions of the changing context of higher education have also highlighted the increasing diversity of the students coming into universities to take up postgraduate places (McWilliam, Singh and Taylor 2002), and the variation in both students’ reasons for deciding to enrol in a doctoral program and their subsequent ‘career plans’ (Harman 2002, p. 179). While in the past a masters or doctoral degree often opened the door to an academic career, with postgraduate students engaged in studies that ran parallel to their first experiences of university teaching as a tutor, many people now enter research programs, such as Massey University’s Doctorate of Business and Administration (Lockhart and Stablein 2002) in order to refine and transform the understandings they need to strengthen their role in already-established careers outside the halls of academe. However, while changes in the student body have both influenced, and in turn been influenced by, changes in entry schemes and the types of study on offer, several core emphases of the doctorate, including the significance of the search for ‘new’ knowledge and the candidate’s need to grow in independence, still underpin the degree. Furthermore, although the introduction of professional doctorates has incorporated coursework (or in some cases portfolios) into programs, the production of a substantial written text is still the end point of most doctoral work.

Introducing the data One of the authors of this chapter (Green) supervised the doctoral research of the other (Reidy) in the period 2000–2002. Each author was interviewed at the end of 2003 by an external researcher (with substantial expertise in, and knowledge of, research supervision and open-ended interviewing). The authors’ reflections on their intertwined experiences as supervisor and candidate were able to provide a variety of perceptions on the degree, its significance and the challenges facing those who embark upon it. While candidates have in the past offered accounts of their studies midstream, this section explores


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those aspects of the supervisor–candidate interaction that contributed to the candidate’s success when success is measured by ‘timely completion’ and a text that was judged to be excellent by both. For simplicity of language, the authors are referred to as supervisor and candidate in the remainder of this chapter. As has been pointed out, the supervisor–candidate relationship is a complex one because, within a relatively short space of time, the interaction must foster the development of original understandings and new ideas, or, in other words, the production, dissemination and use of knowledge. Although these words have been drawn from various discussions of knowledge management and its processes (see Rowley 1999), they describe a large part of the work that constitutes the doctoral experience. However, while these terms capture the processes that characterise the doctoral experience, they do not encompass all of the ways in which the supervisor teaches so that the candidate may learn. In the following analysis, it is argued that the process of knowledge management is a collaborative enterprise conducted by supervisor and student. As the managing of this form of knowledge occurs within a narrowly specified time-period, the supervisor is crucially important if the knowledge-oriented goals are to be achieved. Although it is the supervisor who ‘makes the running’ in the early phases of the candidature by setting up the intellectual and practical scaffolding in which the candidate’s work unfolds, the real achievement of these phases can only be measured in terms of the extent to which the candidate has been able to achieve autonomy and independence by the time the final phase of the degree has been reached. During the research journey then, the supervisor–candidate interaction must undergo a series of changes as the candidate moves along the path to completion. Like the god Proteus, who was able to assume many different shapes according to the demands of the situation, the supervisor has to be flexible enough to anticipate and encourage the candidate’s growing expertise and independence. However, good supervision rests upon the notion of the willingness or the ability of the candidate to take up the challenges that are only glimpsed as enrolment takes place. Hence, especially in the early and middle stages, the student has to be able to accept and make use of the intellectual and practical coaching that is offered by the supervisor. Predictably then, it is not only the supervisor whose ‘shapes’ or roles must change, but also those of the candidate. The following account draws on these ideas in order to explore the journeys made by supervisor and candidate—from coach and novice to colleague and independent researcher.

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The project Although it may have been possible to elicit the ways in which the interaction between supervisor and candidate worked in informal discussions, it was decided that independent interviews would allow a supervisor and a candidate to reflect on the experience from their positions as stakeholders situated in very different positions in the Australian academic community. In order to explore this particular supervisor–candidate relationship, retrospective in-depth interviews were conducted with the supervisor and then with one of her recently graduated PhD candidates. The supervisor was ‘experienced’ in that she had been the primary supervisor for over 20 research candidates. The doctoral candidate interviewed had followed conventional academic paths in that she had already completed an honours and a masters degree before enrolling in the PhD. However, the doctorate was her first experience of empirical research as the other research studies had been text-based. The interviews were conducted on separate days by an experienced interviewer known to both people. While the interviewer was familiar with the literature on supervision, the interviews were conducted in an open-ended, relatively unstructured way. This enabled each interviewee to raise issues that might not have been anticipated by the interviewer. Each interview lasted for approximately two hours. During this time, the candidate and the supervisor were not only encouraged to give accounts of their own supervisory experiences, but also took the opportunity to reflect on their own practices. At times, the interviewer raised topics of interest—inquiring, for example, about the degree to which the supervisor should intervene in relation to the exact focus of the research questions, a topic that has also received some attention from Hager (2003). However, while having the freedom to raise issues, the interviewer made no reference in the candidate’s interview to anything that had been said in the earlier interview with the supervisor. Neither the candidate nor the supervisor had an opportunity to listen to the audiotapes of the interviews until after the transcripts had been completely typed up. At that point, both agreed to share the data openly and in full.

The existence of common concerns An exploration of the interview transcripts showed that there were many common issues that the supervisor and the candidate raised at the end of the 3.2 years that the doctoral candidate had taken to com-


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plete the degree. (Interestingly, Heath [2002] also found that the median time taken by the full-time candidates in his own study was 3.2 years.) Each of these issues was analysed, so that by the end it was possible for both participants to provide a series of reflections of interest, reflections that complement the work of such writers as Evans and Rennie (2003), who recently reported on a set of draft guidelines for ‘best practice’ in doctoral education sponsored by the Australian Council of Deans and Directors of Graduate Studies. While studies such as that of Heath (2002) have shown that candidates can have reservations regarding the quality of their supervision, it is argued on the basis of the interviews described in this chapter that the candidate and the supervisor should be considered in relation to one another and that, in the most productive interactions, a ‘fit’ can be achieved that makes the journey both short and relatively trouble-free. The achievement of such a fit needs both scrutiny and celebration because, in most cases, it is the interaction between supervisor and candidate that will determine the quality of the experience for both people. It is also argued that even if this fit seems to have been established early on, it has to be sustained by effective practices on the part of both candidate and supervisor throughout the research candidature.

The management of knowledge During the undertaking of a doctoral degree, supervisor and candidate can be seen to be playing roles similar to those played by the knowledge management experts or agencies employed by or incorporated into large companies. Hence, together the supervisor and the candidate must ‘manage’ the knowledge that is under construction while simultaneously managing the time-lines and family demands faced by most professional people. Demerest (1997) describes the processes that typically accompany knowledge management. According to Demerest, knowledge management involves the processes and phases of knowledge construction and knowledge embodiment, knowledge dissemination and knowledge use. However, while the terms are helpful when thinking about the processes involved in the management of knowledge during a research degree, such descriptive labels cannot fully capture nor account for the teaching and learning interactions between supervisor and candidate. In this chapter, two further concepts are used to explicate these. The first idea is that of coaching, while the second, that of change, is necessarily implied by the first.

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The initial phase: coaching as giving direction At the beginning of any research candidature, the emphasis is on knowledge building as the candidate reads, writes and becomes aware of the ‘territory’ they have inherited as part of their study. The risky open-endedness of the first phase, caught during the interviews by the candidate’s observation ‘So we started off’ (p. 24), reaches its climax with the presentation of a well thought out research proposal. Although the first phase of the candidature will necessarily foreground significant intellectual issues such as topic definition, elucidation of research questions and the literature to be surveyed, the ways of being a candidate, of actually ‘doing’ a doctorate, must also be learned. Hence, the complex mesh of activities that make up the doctoral candidate’s lived experience must be both mentored and managed by the supervisor as coach. In ways that are disconcerting for some, the candidate as novice has to become a willing participant in the process even if they have already achieved great expertise in other workplaces and roles. From the evidence provided during the supervisor’s interview, it is clear that the supervisor was particularly skilled at ‘getting the show on the road’. Her expertise in this area can be attributed to her prior supervision experience. However, the interview transcripts also revealed that her own negative experiences of supervision during the initial stages of her master’s degree provided her with insights into what not to do when supervising. The difficulties she experienced during her master’s degree were summarised when she commented that she had had a supervisor who ‘was not reading [her] work and was not available for meetings’ (Supervisor, p. 1). She contrasted this experience with her doctoral supervision, commenting that her supervisor not only had a deep interest in methodological issues, which stimulated her own interest in this area, but, on a more practical level, was always available for her and the other doctoral students he supervised. She described his readiness to be involved both intellectually and practically in the following way: Supervisor: On occasion, there would be some sort of question, which you needed to engage with someone else before you could move on. And he was always in his office because all he did was supervise his students. You could just walk in— he was very amiable…he was always there—you wouldn’t get that nowadays. (p. 1)


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However, the supervisor was not simply a friend. The supervisor’s portrait of her ‘amiable’ supervisor was given depth when she described the ways in which he was able to move her beyond her present levels of expertise. He was not simply pleasant to work with, but was also able to ‘push’ her (p. 2): Supervisor: He knew what a thesis was and had supervised students beyond completion in areas beyond his area…And so there was this confidence there that I could actually move out of my area…and talk to someone on other levels—theoretical levels. And I really liked that…And he would always have books for me to read and I would always read them. So I think he pushed me to do things I wouldn’t have otherwise done. And I really respected that. And I really enjoyed the conversations we had when we’d both read a text. And so, I think because of that, I did a lot more within my [doctoral] degree that I would have normally. (p. 2) Significantly, the words ‘push’ and ‘pushing’ were used by both the candidate and the supervisor whose reflections are explored in this chapter. The supervisor used both words approvingly in order to articulate her sense that her experienced former supervisor was able to encourage her ‘to do things [she] wouldn’t have otherwise done’ (p. 2). The candidate also commented on features of her own interaction with her doctoral supervisor, offering the following account of the re-write of a completed chapter of the dissertation: Candidate: I think I battled with the Methods chapter. I know that sounds really basic, but I actually wrote that chapter twice. I wrote it as a Schön-ian reflective thing first and she said, ‘I don’t like that much’. And I thought ‘My God, I’m going to have to write this whole thing again!’ And it was much better the second time…I got really interested in those issues. (p. 25) However, the demands made by the supervisor were matched by a similarly intense level of input and involvement, so the supervisor was seen as someone who was appropriately goal-directed, rather than simply autocratic. Indeed, the match between the supervisor’s expectations and the candidate’s commitment meant that a relationship of professional trust could be built throughout the research study. Hence, the candidate’s observation, ‘I think she put on a certain

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amount of pressure’ (p. 27) was balanced by a sense that the supervisor was taking the work very seriously: even in the very early stages of the research study, the supervisor annotated the written drafts ‘minutely’ (p. 27). The candidate framed these interactions positively, not only because she accepted her initial role as a novice, but also because a great deal of the advice was framed as suggestions to be considered rather than directions to be followed.

The middle phase: coaching as encouragement Throughout the interviews, the supervisor’s coaching was described in two different ways by the candidate. Firstly, the coaching was seen as directive, ranging from ‘pushing’ (p. 24) to the subtler giving of an ‘extra little nudge’ (p. 26). Secondly, the significance of verbal encouragement was commented on many times. In two instances during the candidate’s interview, the supervisor’s encouragement is summarised in the phrase ‘You can do it’ (p. 26), the candidate commenting that the supervisor ‘really understood’ when the challenge of undertaking the research became a struggle—as it did when the candidate was trying to find a diverse sample of people to interview for the pilot project.

The significance of professional trust In both interviews, there is evidence to suggest that as the candidature progressed and the dissertation began to take a coherent shape the candidate required reassurance more than anything else, especially through the crucial collection phase which was built around the collection and analysis of a large set of 50 interviews. By trusting that the supervisor thought that she could accomplish the data collection, the analysis and the writing, the candidate was empowered to carry out the next step in each. Supervisor: [The candidate] would often say to me, ‘Do you think I’m doing well? Do you think I’m working hard enough? And I’d say…‘Just acknowledge what you’re doing—you’re doing terrifically well, you’re making great progress’. (p. 2) However, at the same time that the candidate was receiving reassurance, her independence and autonomy as a researcher were also being fostered. In the third and final phase of the candidature, the regular meetings became less frequent as the candidate wrote according


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to her own schedule of drafting and revision. The seeds of this kind of independence had been sown during the data collection period when the candidate had realised, ‘I had to do it myself’ (p. 30). Towards the end of the interview with the candidate, the interviewer commented that she had displayed ‘a very interesting mix of independence and dependence’ (p. 30). However, by the end of the journey the candidate perceived that she had achieved autonomy as a researcher, writer and decision-maker—so much so that a ‘new kind’ (p. 25) of independence had been reached, a ‘more genuine independence’ (p. 30). By the end, the student had acquired the sort of independence expected of competent researchers. Hence, the candidate and the supervisor worked together to facilitate the construction of knowledge while setting up mutually satisfying work routines. While this was happening, the locus of control was shifting in a very marked way from supervisor to candidate. Although the supervisor influenced the initial period of the relationship in crucially important ways, she also promoted the candidate’s growing ability to control the direction of both the reading and the data collection. The skilfulness of the coaching in this period seems to have had its roots in the supervisor’s own experiences as a student. Importantly, a mixture of both positive and negative experiences had enabled her to develop very effective supervision practices.

‘Every time we met, we’d always put the next time in the diary’ The building of trust between candidate and supervisor was strengthened over time by regular meetings. Very early in the three-year candidature a predictable pattern of interaction practices was established and then adhered to. Although the patterns were summarised in the supervisor’s interview when she said that her supervision practices followed a ‘You write–I read–we meet’ pattern (p. 18), some further details have been included at this point because a knowledge of these patterns was assumed rather than elaborated upon during the interviews. Yet, as the supervision sessions and the drafting and re-drafting were at the heart of the knowledge construction, these may be of special interest to both supervisors and novice researchers. Throughout her candidature, the student took a newly drafted section of a chapter to the supervision meeting, having received the prior draft by post. In contrast to some current practices that place great stress on electronic exchanges of both text and comment, hard copies of the chapter drafts were exchanged and were then annotated by the supervisor. In retrospect, it is now possible to see that the

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supervision meetings had four ‘segments’. In the first few minutes, the most recent draft was handed over to the supervisor. Then the supervisor and the candidate discussed the annotated draft that had already been returned by post. In the third stage, the candidate explored some crucial reading or her own ideas with the supervisor. Finally, the candidate discussed the next stage of the research project, refining with the supervisor’s assistance short-term goals related to the next piece of writing and the next set of interviews. Usually, the supervision meeting was structured informally by the supervisor and candidate, the former by further explaining some of her annotations on the draft under discussion, the candidate by bringing a typed list of concerns or new tasks to each meeting. Through these means, very focused discussions were achieved and all significant issues were covered within the space of just over an hour. Both the candidate and the supervisor commented on the efficacy of these meetings, the interviews revealing that the meetings were enjoyable as well as productive. Candidate: My meeting was once every two weeks, on a Monday, at 12.00. And that…was crucial. But that was my time. And the goal was coming up. If I’d had a good week, it was almost done by the weekend. If I’d had a bad week, I knew I had to slave that weekend, or if I had reading to do, but that was that magic time, that Monday…The other thing was that she gave me her absolute full attention. I’m sure that some weeks she would have a mountain of emails and a mountain of phone calls. Not once did the phone ring, and she never looked at her emails. (p. 31) Hence, it can be seen that the supervisor’s knowledge did not simply include her expertise as an intellectual mentor, but also reflected her experience as a skilful coach who was able to set up routines and work practices that provided the framework within which the large task of seeing a piece of research through to completion could be undertaken by a novice researcher. The significance of the supervision sessions was emphasised again at the end of the candidate’s interview when she stated that the meetings had the ability to ‘empower’ her so that she was ‘lifted up and excited and challenged’ (p. 32). The supervision meetings then were the hub of the experience—they were ‘enabling things’, meetings that had ‘enough fuel in them’ to carry the candidate along for another two weeks (p. 32).


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Knowledge construction and textual practices From the very beginning of the candidate’s doctoral journey, tasks were undertaken in order to further the production of a written text. Writing began almost immediately, whereas some of the candidates in Heath’s (2002) study did not have to submit writing ‘for a year or more’ (p. 46) after their initial enrolment. The supervisor’s expectations that the submission of a written piece would structure each period of time was responded to positively by the candidate, who had written a successful honours thesis using the same type of ‘You write it–I read it–we meet’ pattern of interaction, a pattern that had not been replicated in her much more protracted masters degree. However, the candidate was also proactive in setting goals that had to be reached by the next meeting, and agreement with respect to expected tasks (from both sides) was negotiated openly at each meeting. These were noted down by both the supervisor and the candidate and were rarely changed. Thus far, the roles assumed by supervisor and candidate have been complementary ones—as the supervisor coached, the candidate responded. Especially in the first eight months of the degree, and again at crucial stages during the data collection phases, the supervisor’s coaching enabled the research student to set up the research study, present the proposal to a committee and collect significant amounts of data.

The work of Schön (1987) In these phases, the interaction was very similar to that described so famously by Donald Schön (1987) who, in describing the relationship between the expert Quist and the novice Petra, captured the ways in which an experienced mentor teaches and encourages the novice to expand their own repertoires of practice by giving the novice opportunity to reflect on work already undertaken. In Schön’s work, novices or apprentices acquire a fully professional competence or ‘artistry’ (p. 19) by entering situations and interactions in which ‘the use in practice of applied science and technique’ (p. 13) is expected. Novices move forward in such situations because they can ‘learn by doing’ (p. 37). The images of the novice and the learner who reflects ‘in’ and ‘on’ action assume the dyad of the learner and the coach or teacher. In the case of the problem-solving novice, a more experienced person must be relied upon to prepare, obtain and discuss the problem that

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the novices will solve. In the case of the reflective learner, both the skills-oriented debriefing session and the modelling of the professional language and implicit attitudes to work and workplace come from Quist. Although Petra talks and shows the drawing that she has prepared as part of her architectural training, she understands much more about the various qualities of her production by hearing these articulated by her coach, Quist. Hence, the mentor, coach, teacher or supervisor is charged with the responsibility of re-shaping the novice’s work and implicit attitudes, while the candidate has equal responsibilities except that these lie in the effort to both ‘do’ and to learn to reflect on that doing.

Knowledge construction and the fostering of a strong work ethic Schön’s (1987) Quist displays the necessary ‘artistry’ that good coaching involves, much of the power of which is built on his greater experience, knowledge and expertise. Schön’s portrait shows us that novice and coach are different, not only in the degree to which they can realise their goals, but also because the coach can actually talk about the work with greater insight. However, in the interviews conducted with the supervisor and the candidate described in this chapter, it was shown that two common issues united supervisor and candidate. These common areas of experience, a commitment to the efficacy of ‘hard work’ and an understanding of each other’s position as women in contemporary society, underpinned the relationship and made it easier to sustain over a long period of time. In her interview, the supervisor summed up her early impressions of the candidate by saying that she was a ‘hard worker’ (p. 12). From the beginning there was a shared appreciation that research involved dedication and resilience, although there is some evidence to suggest that the candidate’s appreciation of the exact nature of the amount of work required at each stage increased as the research study progressed. This is understandable given that neither of her previous research theses had involved the collection of data. The actual struggle involved in working very hard for a long period of time is hinted at rather than developed in many different parts of the candidate’s interview. She states that she caught the flu after her proposal, that she ‘slaved’ before supervision meetings and that she regularly presented drafts some 5,000 words in length to her supervisor. These hints are matched by the supervisor’s comment that she trusted that the work would be completed. The supervisor stated that in this particular can-


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didature there was no need for an intense level of ‘scrutiny’ (p. 19) because ‘there was an absolute level of trust that what we were saying was happening’ (p. 19). Hence goals were set in the meetings and then adhered to and met within a certain time frame. The supervisor also showed a keen appreciation of the cost of the work undertaken: ‘there was one time when [the candidate]…just couldn’t write…I think she’d just become exhausted’ (p. 22).

Knowledge construction and the significance of gender However, while the discussion thus far has focused on the explicit construction of understanding through reading, writing and intense discussion, another important element of the relationship made its presence felt in subtle ways. Such tacit knowledge concerned the supervisor’s appreciation of the pressing demands of home and family, demands which, in Australian society, still tend to be managed by the female partner who accepts responsibility for the ‘second shift’ referred to in feminist perspectives on work practices and access to leisure. As all knowledge is social, it is also gendered. Leonard (2001) points out that many women have to juggle their doctoral study with ‘young children, needy partners, elderly relatives’ (p. 79). Hence, whether alluded to in a direct way or not, gender-related issues can complicate both the research itself and the supervisor–candidate interactions. In the relationship discussed throughout this chapter, it was the supervisor’s deep, but largely tacit, understanding of these issues that enabled topics such as the struggle to meet the demands of study and family responsibilities to be relegated to a rather minor place in the supervisory sessions. However, importantly, the avoidance of such topics was not based on indifference, but on the perception that the interview sessions were short. From the beginning, the supervisor was aware of the difficulties the candidate had faced in the past: Supervisor: And they had always said that it would be [the candidate’s] turn [to study on a full-time basis]. And I always wondered, to be honest, whether that would happen. And so when it seemed like this was going to happen, I was really delighted for her. (p. 12) The candidate appreciated the largely tacit understanding the supervisor displayed: ‘I said…“The kids are so intense at the moment…I want to be realistic.” And she understood. But she said, “Just think about it.”’ (p. 24). Again, the supervisor’s own framing of

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the interaction helped the heavily committed candidate achieve some sort of distance from her responsibilities so that discussions about family matters did not dominate the meetings. The supervisor described both her own perspective and their fortnightly interactions in some detail. In the following extract from the supervisor’s transcript, the emphasis on the words ‘knew’ alludes to the shared understanding both had, while the repetition of the word ‘work’ reveals the strong work ethic that united supervisor and candidate. Supervisor: We never talked about [gender] explicitly but we knew—there was almost this respect…You’re there to get on with your work and to focus on your work while you’re at work. And to keep the rest of your life private…And [the candidate] did that just intuitively. And that allowed us just to get on with our work. And I knew she was a great mother, great whatever. But that’s not what we were meeting about. (p. 20) Such silent understanding allowed both supervisor and student to achieve a certain space. Rather than feeling that this was an unsympathetic distance, the candidate saw this as an enabling space, a freedom from being perceived negatively as a person who would not be able to accomplish either short-term or long-term goals. Candidate: Somehow we never got really close socially. I think that was a real freedom…when people hear about my life…I’ve got this big household to run and they get sympathetic and then they put less demands on me, demands that I could, in fact, achieve…the crucial thing about us not getting close [over the three year candidature] was that she never saw how big my home life was day-to-day. So she could always say, ‘Okay, do you think you’ll have another 5,000 words ready by the next meeting?’ And I could always say ‘Yes’. It was brilliant. (pp. 26–7)

The final phase: achieving a timely completion It is obvious that all doctoral candidates need good coaches, coaches who are as astute, as committed and as skilled in their professional fields as the Quist described in Schön’s (1987) work. However, as supervision is a long-term relationship conducted over a period of several years, the management of time intrudes on this relationship in


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a more forceful way than it does in the more short-lived interactions of Quist and Petra. In the case of the supervisor and candidate interviewed, the success of the relationship can be attributed to the skilled ‘coaching’ of the supervisor, especially in the areas of foregrounding the significance of time and the importance of scholarly conversations. However, just as important as the supervisor’s skilfulness in coaching was the candidate’s ability to focus on completion and her willingness to write lengthy texts almost as soon as the initial, settlingin period of the candidature was over. In her role as coach, the supervisor modeled the ways in which a timely completion is just one way of meeting the institutional demands of the situation and that time-lines and planning are crucial to the success of any major task including research. Both interviews stressed the degree to which regular appointments and meeting times characterised the whole period of the candidature, an emphasis that concurred with Heath’s (2002) finding that ‘regular, formal supervisory meetings, preferably at least every two weeks, are important’ (p. 52). The supervisor commented that the ‘You write–I read it–we meet’ rubric worked because the submission of each draft demonstrated progress and provided a focus for each discussion. The supervisor’s high expectations provided a framework which strengthened the candidate’s own desire to achieve her goal in a more orderly and less stressful manner than her masters by research. However, in what was one of the biggest learning experiences of her candidature, the candidate came to realise that completion was a very different process from that of researching or writing drafts. The supervisor supported this realisation in two ways. Firstly, she not only involved herself in the intellectual or theoretical coaching, but also took a deep interest in what she referred to as the pragmatic aspects of timelines, timeliness and general professional punctuality. While talking about another aspect of supervision, she referred to distinct phases of the supervision as ‘that tough time of doing the proposal’ and the ‘final writing up time’ (p. 24) as two of the most demanding times of the process for both supervisor and candidate. Secondly, the supervisor expected to receive high quality drafts—the candidate commented that her supervisor had even corrected a slip in the use of ellipsis in an early draft. Again, that had been modeled during the supervisor’s doctoral candidature as the primary supervisor had been ‘good at reading drafts and so on in a very timely manner—and providing feedback that was quite detailed’ (Supervisor, p. 17). The candidate articulated her growth in understanding in the following key section from her interview:

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Candidate: At the beginning you start off doing this big threeyear project, and you think: ‘I’m doing it’…I think of it now as switching gears in a car. At some stage, you have to switch into fourth gear and think: ‘Now I’ve got to get completed’. And it’s different. I think it was very skilled in retrospect…It was this skilled supervisory thing that actually pushed me to complete rather than to have a…fun-time reading. But I recognise now…that in some aspects of my life I’ve been very able during them, but have I actually tied the bow? I think sometimes not. And what I’ve learned from my contact with her was something I would never have thought about as a key issue in choosing her as a supervisor—I didn’t know the [issue of completion] existed. (p. 24) Hence, the learning accomplished during the study afforded both supervisor and student the opportunity to reach great insights into the nature of work and their own profiles as working people. The candidate, especially, seemed to have reflected on the exact nature of the more generic learning that she had accomplished. However, the supervisor also saw herself as benefiting quite directly from her experiences as a supervisor, remarking that she enjoyed supervision even though it was taxing because, inevitably, ‘You both stretch yourselves—you both learn things…I probably see supervision now as a privilege’. (p. 4)

Knowledge dissemination While both people agreed on the excitement and interest of the candidature, the dissemination of the knowledge in the form of published papers was the one issue raised during the interviews that seemed to cause both the candidate and the supervisor some anxiety. However, it is argued here that this was due to the situation of flux in which such issues are being discussed in Australia and beyond, rather than because either the candidate or the supervisor had not cooperated effectively in relation to this topic. Completely focused on finishing, the candidate did not publish any papers during the candidature, although she presented a paper on methodological issues at a conference held for research students at her own university. Although Heath’s (2002) study found that a similar pattern was quite common for students enrolled in social science and education degrees, this can be contrasted with other disciplines in which, according to Heath, it is common to have two, three or even


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four papers published by the conclusion of the program of study. Hence, the research degree experience is a complex one because timely completion may inhibit the extent to which a student can prepare and present well-argued papers at seminars and conferences. However, as the changes already made to the research environment gather pace, it may be argued that in the near future every supervisor’s repertoire of coaching strategies will need to include ideas on how to encourage students to prepare and present papers and published works during their candidatures. In her interview, the supervisor made explicit reference to these issues, but seemed undecided about the co-writing of papers and whether or not such activities should be seen as an essential part of any supervisor–candidate relationship or something that came about only if the candidate was capable and/or enjoyed writing (p. 30). Once again, the supervisor returned to her own experience as a doctoral student to comment on this issue, saying that although she had respected her supervisor greatly, she had ‘never’ (p. 2) published anything with him and wrote only one paper during her candidature. Yet, during her master’s degree, a different supervisor at the same university had successfully mentored her ‘into the world of publishing’ (p. 9), so that she had been able to publish a book based on her master’s thesis. She went on to reflect on the significant issue of publication in the following way: Supervisor: I have tried to give my students opportunities to write, but not in any systematic way. I think now we need to get more systematic in doing that. And now…having had time in R & I and working with other people around the University, it seems to me that other people do that much better than we do in Education. Even to having a deal that we will do X number of papers…maybe it shouldn’t be a bonus. Maybe it should be an expectation about writing papers. But then I feel torn particularly about students who are working part-time— how they fit that into their lives. (p. 30) Her final conclusion was that these matters need to be discussed and agreed upon at the beginning of the relationship ‘before there is anything to fight about’ (p. 30), so that if the supervisor offers a pact such as ‘I’ll be the last author’ (p. 30), the intellectual property issues have been acknowledged ‘up front’ (p. 30). Hence, some interesting issues were raised under the umbrella of knowledge dissemination. Although it was covered somewhat quickly,

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both supervisor and candidate made comments that showed that this topic merited further attention. It is possible that the candidate had not thought about this issue deeply enough during the degree—she stated that she had put the goal of completing before anything else. As the supervisor remarked, ‘She was so focused during her time…I gave her a number of opportunities, but they weren’t right for her’ (p. 30). As each of the three people involved in the interview situation (interviewer, candidate and supervisor) had stories to tell each other about the publication aspect of their various candidatures, the dissemination side of supervision needs further elaboration. In a climate in which products are often as important as processes, publication may become an essential part of candidate–supervisor contracts in the future. Such issues underline the need for supervisor and candidate to have agreed in quite explicit ways about various aspects of their relationship at the beginning of the journey. There will always be, however, aspects of the learning that cannot be anticipated.

The journey from coach to colleague The transcripts of the interviews showed that in responding to the experienced supervisors’ preferred ways of working and interacting in meetings and discussion, candidates can be introduced to the sorts of attributes that they will require to complete the degree at hand and, if it is desired, to take up similar work in the future. Hence, it will be argued that in responding to the supervisor in her role as intellectual expert, leader or mentor, the candidate learns that depth and accuracy of knowledge are important and that becoming ‘the other’ requires substantial learning. In responding to the supervisor as coach, the candidate learns that resilience, persistence and hard work are valued attributes. In finding a sympathetic listener, the candidate also finds a friend within a community of scholars and so is introduced to the positive social aspects of the professional experience.

The future: food for thought What then can we take away from these interviews for our own interactions with future candidates—if we are supervisors—and potential supervisors, if we are candidates? It seems obvious that the supervisor–candidate relationship is complex because of the many different competing demands that both must meet through the doctoral journey. Two of the most obvious tensions involve time and autonomy. The candidate constantly feels the pressure of time—as the interviews


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showed—because she must read widely and yet write extended pieces of text. The supervisor faces great challenges in a rather different direction: she must guide, and yet not control or dominate, the student’s research endeavour. At the end of the study, the candidate should be able to take on independent research. If the supervisor has been too forceful or too nurturing, such independence will not be achieved. It can be argued now that in the light of these interviews, it is the work of Donald Schön (1987)—and, in particular, his insights into the activities, practices and discourses designated in his work as ‘coaching’—that is the most useful way in which a successful supervisor–candidate relationship can be described. Such was the ‘fit’ (Candidate, p. 27) between the views of expert supervisor and novice candidate that in the interviews there is evidence to suggest that the relationship eventually attained the respectful sharing characteristic of peers and friendly colleagues. Further research is needed to establish the extent to which this is common or unusual. It is possible that this quality of interaction is achieved in the latter stages of many research candidatures as the candidate’s understanding of the field becomes greater and their own role moves from that of novice to that of expert, from the one who needs coaching to a collaborative peer. Hence, in the most successful supervisor–candidate relationships, knowledge management—in particular the construction, use, and dissemination of knowledge—is at the fore bringing with it a complex array of roles and responsibilities. It is now clear from the interviews with both supervisor and candidate that both cooperated in the early stages of the candidature to set up mutually satisfying ways of working. While the supervisor often took the lead in setting up work-enabling practices, her ability to make the supervision sessions both energising and reassuring allowed the student to undertake a large project and then, having successfully completed the early stages of the candidature, to grow in autonomy and gain confidence as a researcher, thinker and writer. The early stages of research candidatures are very significant. However, the interviews showed that it is not easy to predict which issues need to be discussed explicitly at the beginning of the candidature, although the supervisor stressed throughout her interview that the effort to do this is a central part of the supervisor’s role. There is no doubt, however, that skilled coaching contributed greatly to the candidate’s successful learning and that such supervision deserves both close examination and further research. In particular, future studies need to explore the ways in which an experienced supervisor interacts in each supervision session in order

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to both critique and encourage the student. Also worthy of scrutiny is the interpersonal ‘flexibility’ that enables a supervisor to adjust their own preferred patterns of supervision to accommodate individual students. For all these reasons and more, the subject of supervision deserves to remain high on the list of contemporary research agendas, both in Australia’s higher education sector and beyond its borders.

References Demerest, M. 1997, ‘Understanding knowledge management’, Journal of Long Range Planning, vol. 30, no. 3, pp. 374–84. Evans, T. and Rennie, L. 2003, ‘Guidelines for best practice in doctoral education’ [Abstract], Australian Association for Research in Education Newcastle Mini-Conference http://www.aare.edu.au/ conf03nc/abs03z.htm (accessed 15 March 2004). Green, P. 2003, ‘Diminishing spaces: The supervision of research degree students in Australian universities’, in Spatiality, Curriculum and Learning, eds R. Edwards and R. Usher, Greenwood, Westport CT. Green, P. and Usher, R. 2003, ‘Fast supervision: Changing supervisory practice in changing times’, in Studies in Continuing Education vol. 25, no. 1, pp. 37–50. Hagar, P. 2003, ‘Assisting students to develop their research questions’ [Abstract], Australian Association for Research in Education Newcastle Mini-Conference, http://www.aare.edu.au/conf03nc/ abs03z.htm (accessed 15 March 2004). Harman, G. 2002, ‘Producing PhD graduates in Australia for the knowledge economy’, Higher Education Research & Development, vol. 21, no. 2, pp. 179–90. Heath, T. 2002, A quantitative analysis of PhD students’ views of supervision’, Higher Education Research & Development, vol. 21, no. 1, pp. 41–53. Hockey, J. 1996, ‘A contractual solution to problems in the supervision of PhD degrees in the UK’, Studies in Higher Education, vol. 21, no. 3, pp. 359–71. Lee, A. and Williams, C. 1999, ‘Forged in fire: Narratives of trauma in PhD supervision’, Southern Review, vol. 31, no. 1, pp. 6–26. Leonard, D. 2001, A Woman’s Guide to Doctoral Studies, Open University Press, Buckingham. Lockhart, J.C. and Stablein, R.E. 2002, ‘Spanning the academy–practice divide with doctoral education in business’, Higher Education Research & Development, vol. 21, no. 3, pp. 191–202.


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Lyotard, J.F. 1984, The Postmodern Condition: A Report on Knowledge, Manchester University Press. McWilliam, E., Singh, P. and Taylor, P.G. 2002, ‘Doctoral education, danger and risk management’, Higher Education Research & Development, vol. 21, no. 3, pp. 119–29. Pearson, M. 2002, ‘Research training and supervision development’, Studies in Higher Education, vol. 27, pp. 135–50. Rowley, J. 1999, ‘What is knowledge management?’, Library Management, vol. 20, no. 8, pp. 416–19. Schön, D. 1987, Educating the Reflective Practitioner: How Professionals Think in Action, Basic Books, New York. Usher, R. 2002, ‘A diversity of doctorates: Fitness for the knowledge economy?’, Higher Education Research & Development, vol. 21, no. 2, pp. 143–53.

Section 2 SUPERVISION WITHIN CHANGING RESEARCH DEGREE FRAMEWORKS

CHAPTER 5

Changing times, changing research, changing degrees: supervising and managing the first PhD by project undertaken in a Business Faculty Dr Carlene Boucher and Professor Robert Brooks Introduction This chapter reports on some of the learnings we have gained over the past four years whilst supervising a PhD by project undertaken in the School of Management at RMIT University. We believe that this PhD (which was commenced in March 1998 and was conferred in December 2001), was the first non-thesis based PhD completed in a Business Faculty in an Australian university. In this paper we discuss five issues that we think are of interest: 1 What led the supervisors to explore with the candidate a PhD by project as opposed to a thesis based PhD? 2 How did institutional rules and norms help and hinder the progress of the work? 3 How did using a different approach change and strengthen the research project? 4 What issues arose about the management and design of the examination process? 5 How was the approach taken to supervision similar and different to the supervision of a traditional thesis?

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We end by providing some advice, based on our experience, for supervisors and candidates thinking about undertaking forms of work that are different to those normally pursued in the faculty in which they are enrolled.

What led the supervisors to explore with the candidate a PhD by project as opposed to a thesis based PhD? Research activities undertaken in the Business Faculty at RMIT employ a diverse range of qualitative and quantitative approaches and nowhere is this more evident than in the management arena. Like many of the social sciences, it continues to embrace emerging forms of research (Brew 2001). Management scholars have been both criticised (Donaldson 1998) and applauded (Czarniawska 1998b) for their continuing capacity to develop knowledge based in a wide range of epistemological paradigms. The School of Management, as well as continuing to encourage research using a wide range of approaches, has seen the development, over a number of years, of a particular view about research amongst a group of staff and candidates. The approach is by no means homogeneous, but shares some influences such as emancipatory (Kemmis 2001) and participatory action research (Park 1999), reflective practice (Schön 1983), researching emotion (Richardson 1997), postmodernism (Jeffcutt 1994), auto-ethnography (Ellis 1999), narrative (Czarniawska 1998a), mindful inquiry (Bentz and Shapiro 1998), critical theory (Smircich and Calas 1995) and feminism (Stanley 1990). It is characterised by: • a focus on investigating an issue of concern to the researcher that emerges from their experience of organisational life; • the lived experience of the researcher being central to the research process; • the research aiming to produce practical outcomes that the researcher and others can use to improve organisational functioning and the well being of individuals in organisations; • the researcher drawing on a wide range of theory (often from very different perspectives) to inform their findings; and • a desire to produce and present findings that are immediately accessible and useful to practitioners such as managers, management educators, human resource professionals and organisation change consultants and that reflect multiple aspects of an experience, including the emotions of experience.

Changing times, changing research, changing degrees

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It is this latter point that is of most relevance when discussing the reasons why consideration was given to a PhD by project, but the other characteristics are also relevant and important. The development of this approach to research within the School created an environment in which different ways of doing a thesis could be discussed and explored. It was possible to question the model of a conventional thesis. The candidate, her supervisors and other staff within the School were aware of examples where alternative approaches to presenting research findings had been used by scholars. Most importantly, there was intellectual and political support within the School for the supervisors and the candidate to consider alternative approaches. The research climate in the School made it possible to consider a PhD by project. The candidate’s research questions (which explored the emotional experience of organisation transition) were of a type that were difficult to address fully in a conventional thesis (Richardson 1997) and therefore invited the consideration of alternative approaches. This consideration of alternative forms for the PhD would only have been cursory, however, if the candidate had not shown such interest and enthusiasm for exploring different ways of presenting the research outcomes. At one level, this enthusiasm came from wanting to fully present the emotional aspects of the research findings. At another, it came from a desire to use more creative firms of representing data, forms that could reflect the texture of the findings more evocatively than could traditional academic text. The candidate was intellectually and emotionally ready to go down a path that was novel; she had the potential to make a significant methodological contribution to the field and it seemed to her to create a much more appropriate framework for presenting her findings. It was risky in that it had not been done before and, although it was possible to draw on experiences from other faculties, what a PhD by project in Business looked like was an unknown. For her supervisors, agreement to explore a PhD by project was predicated upon being fully aware of the benefits and risks of this approach. The decision was made easier by the overwhelming evidence that the candidate was extremely motivated and also possessed a range of well-developed creative talents. It was already evident that she could use word, music and art in a range of ways to evoke the emotional content of her data. The decision of her supervisors to support a PhD by research was made easier by knowing in advance that the candidate’s creative skills were of a very high standard.

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How did institutional rules and norms help and hinder the progress of the work? The PhD by project has a history at RMIT, especially in the areas of art, design and architecture, where the case had been made that a written thesis does not fully report the outcomes of research in these discipline areas. Accordingly the RMIT Policy and Procedures for Higher Degrees by Research (1996, p. 32; 1998, p. 31) provided that ‘…Projects such as works of art, designs, photographic works or architectural models resulting from creative investigations, shall be presented in a gallery or other appropriate venue’. In addition to the presentation element, the RMIT Policy and Procedures for Higher Degrees by Research (1996, p. 33; 1998, p. 31) also required ‘…an assessable written document…in the format used for a thesis…defining the purpose and theoretical base of the work and the factors taken into account in its conception, development and resolution’. In this regard the wording of the Policy and Procedures is identical between 1996 and 1998. This indicates that over this time period there was no pressure for alteration to the institutional rules on these matters to allow for an extension of the project concept beyond its previous creative discipline base. Since that time there has been a growing recognition that the conceptual framework afforded by the project degree might also be suitable in other disciplines outside the existing creative base. Thus the university embarked on defining an alternative research degrees framework that has been codified in RMIT’s Policy and Procedures for Higher Degrees by Research (2001b) and research degree by project candidates were enrolled in diverse discipline areas such as education, engineering and management. The first RMIT business candidate undertaking a PhD by project enrolled in a thesis in March 1998. The candidate had their candidature approved in thesis mode in January 1999. As a result of developments in the research the candidate transferred from thesis mode to project mode during 1999, with the change finally being approved in 2000. At this time RMIT policy still required candidature approval from multiple committees (faculty higher degrees sub-committee, faculty board, university higher degrees committee) on a written proposal. This was a lengthy process and has been changed significantly by RMIT Business since devolution of candidature approval. For details of the revised candidature approval process see the section on the higher degrees process improvement project in RMIT Business (2001).


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The process of undertaking the approval of transfer from thesis mode to project mode illustrates the first challenge to the institutional roles and norms. Despite the candidate having an approved doctoral topic the conservative approach of working through all of the stages in the approval process was followed. This approach was taken in part so that candidates studying by project were not seen to be taking a ‘soft’ option. It was also probably associated with having to explore exactly what elements would constitute a doctoral level project in a business discipline area. While this first transfer was done under the old policies around project study it is worthwhile to note that the increased use of project candidature throughout the university has made for much greater flexibility in the policies around these matters. Thus the RMIT Policy and Procedures (2001a) now provide that the outcomes of a project include a more knowledgeable and skilled practitioner, a contribution to professional and scholarly knowledge, and some body of work or change in practice. Achievement in the project has two elements: how well the project was framed and managed and what was learned in the process of undertaking it; and what the project contributes to practice and scholarly understanding. This is a considerably more flexible position than the previous policy, which contained a list of types of creative output. Clearly the present policy is able to accommodate a much wider disciplinary variation and, as such, might be better able to meet the needs of candidates. DETYA, in arguing for expanded opportunities and choice for research candidates, states (1999, p. 6) that ‘students should be able to make choices about…what research they do while training, and the ways by which they undertake their research’. In line with this, RMIT (2001b) has included the development of a wider set of research degrees by project as an objective of research strategy. While such flexibility is desirable in responding to candidate needs it creates challenges for institutional rules and norms. Flexibility is undesirable if it produces ‘soft’ options that might be taken up by candidates. The safeguard around this undesirable situation is in the rigour of assessment and examination processes. This is a matter we return to in a later section.

How did using a different approach change and strengthen the research project? The ways in which the research project was different because it was to be submitted in the form of a project rather than a thesis can be

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divided into three categories. The first relates to the types of material developed, the second to the audience for these materials and the third to the type of learning that might be gained by those accessing the finished product. The materials that the candidate submitted consisted of an exegesis, two CDs containing art, songs, poems and music and a video showing the researcher using the materials with groups of participants during a workshop. The exegesis included an explanation of the nature of the project, the methodology used and the outcomes achieved. In some ways it resembled an abbreviated version of a traditional thesis in that it included a chapter that defined the research questions and why they were worth researching, a review of relevant literature and a locating of the research within relevant methodological literature. The exegesis also contained work not usually found in a thesis including a very personal account of the researcher’s experience of doing the research, similar to Van Maanen’s (1988) ‘confessional tale’, and a series of creative works including poems, and drawings that constituted part of the creative product of the research. The exegesis also included some of the drawings made by research participants during the data collection phase of the research, and excerpts from interviews with them. The two CDs contained songs and poems created by the researcher. These were often matched with the drawings of the research participants and with art, music and words created by others. They represented the bulk of the creative work. The video showed examples of the researcher using the materials with workshop participants. The materials differed most fundamentally from those usually submitted as part of a thesis in that they used a variety of media, employed a range of written and verbal forms and focused not only on presenting the research findings but also on demonstrating the use of creative materials developed during the course of the research. The intended audience for these materials was different to the audience for a traditional thesis. Whilst a thesis is usually written in ways that appeal to fellow scholars and other elite professionals, much of this material was developed with the express purpose of making the material accessible to people like the research participants, that is, anybody who has or will experience organisational transition. The materials were also aimed at people interested in using creative materials to work with this cohort as facilitators, helping them manage the emotional experience of transition. The materials did not lend themselves to being published in traditional scholarly journals as easily as a thesis might (though some of the materials have


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appeared in peer reviewed journals). Rather, dissemination of the work will occur through the use of the materials by the researcher and others in workshops, organisational consulting activities, teaching practice and on the web. The contribution to knowledge made by this PhD by project differs significantly from that which would be expected of a traditional PhD thesis undertaken in an Australian business faculty. The material is much more emotionally evocative and so the knowledge that comes from it is often personal and affective rather than cognitive. Each person who engages with the materials will learn from them in their own way and the author does not attempt to prescribe what the learnings from the research should be. In many ways the project materials could be seen to consist of a myriad of opportunities for those who engage with them to learn not only about transition in an abstract sense, but more importantly, to learn more about their own emotional experiences of transition.

What issues arose about the management and design of the examination process? In a manner similar to the change in institutional rules and norms facilitating the application of research degrees by project to a broader set of discipline areas, some changes have also occurred in the examinations area. For instance, under the old policy—as set out in the RMIT Policy and Procedures (1996; 1998)—written for disciplines such as art, design and architecture, the examination process involved the following elements: • • • •

durable visual record of the submission; written document; visual public presentation; and discussion following from the public presentation.

The new policy (2001a) has explicitly retained the first two elements of the old examination process. The treatment of the remaining two elements is now seen as something which might vary across the broader set of discipline areas that now make use of research degrees by project. The extent of this legitimate variation across disciplines is now explicitly acknowledged in the RMIT Policy and Procedures (2001a, p. 21), which state: ‘Details of what is to be presented and how it is to be assessed is covered by faculty policies as there is significant variation in project practices.’

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This, of course, requires discipline-specific policies to be determined and approved. In the case of the single business candidate examined by project, these issues were handled by structuring the presentation component of the examination as follows. First, the candidate presented the project to the examination panel and a public audience. The presentation was an interactive demonstration of the work undertaken by the candidate with a pre-selected group from the audience. Second, the candidate took questions from the audience. Third, the examiners privately conferred to determine questions and issues to be discussed with the candidate. Fourth, the candidate underwent an oral exam from the examiners. This oral exam did not take place in front of the audience. From a Faculty perspective this four-step process—together with the fact that the examiners had received the durable visual record and the written document prior to the exam—represented a rigorous examination process. Thus any claim that this was a ‘soft’ option for the candidate could be rebutted by the interaction of these elements. Candidates submitting by thesis are not subject to public questioning in the presence of examiners, nor are they subject to oral examination. These elements introduce additional rigour to the examination process. Having said that, it is the case that additional steps are needed for project examination in business disciplines. Examiners in business disciplines are clearly familiar with thesis examination and are able to set a benchmark standard. Because project examination is so rare in business disciplines, the setting of a frame of reference or a benchmark standard is more difficult. Thus these additional processes compensate for some of this difficulty. As described in some detail above, the examination process for this PhD by project was very different to that of a traditional PhD. The first issue this raised was identifying potential examiners. They needed to meet three criteria: 1 They were acknowledged experts in the field of study. 2 They were prepared to examine the thesis, understanding that it was significantly different from a traditional thesis undertaken in an Australian School of Management. 3 They were prepared to attend the public presentation. It was not difficult to identify potential examiners who met the first criterion, though the fact that the project was multi-disciplinary meant that we needed to select examiners who had diverse and complementary expertise. Also, given the nature of the work, we also wanted examiners who had an appreciation of the process of developing


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creative works (such as poetry) and appreciated how this sort of material could be used in workshops and the like. In the end, we selected examiners who had professional expertise in education and in change management and who also had professional and personal interest and experience in creative work such as story and poetry writing. These people were located through reading relevant journals, contacts at conferences and word of mouth. The third criterion was a logistical one, given that we needed to get all three examiners in Melbourne on the same date. One potential examiner was excluded because he was unable to see his way clear to attend the examination for at least twelve months. Consideration also had to be given to the costs that could have been incurred if we had, for instance, selected three examiners from Europe or the United States. In the end, we selected appropriate examiners from Melbourne, Brisbane and Auckland. Whether potential examiners met the second criterion was a more problematic judgement. The matters we took into account when talking with potential examiners were their ‘track record’ in being involved in non-traditional teaching and learning activities, their interest and enthusiasm in being involved in something innovative and their openness to different ways of doing things. We also talked with them about their understanding of the debates occurring in the literature about representation, emotion, subjectivity and creativity in research. A number of people who were approached indicated that they had serious misgivings around the notion of a PhD by project being undertaken in a business faculty in Australia and two Australian academics indicated that they thought that their universities would not support them examining such work. In the end, deciding whether a potential examiner met this criterion was inherently intuitive.

How was the approach taken to supervision similar and different to the supervision of a traditional thesis? Research supervision can be thought of as consisting of two interconnected processes: the supervision of a candidate; and the ensuring that the work done by the candidate meets the requirements of the institution and the examiners. The actual approach taken to supervising the candidate was probably not that different to the approach the supervisors have taken with most competent, self-directed and mature PhD candidates. It may have differed slightly in the extent to which the supervisors and the candidate were jointly challenged by issues that arose from the nature of the project. Whereas the supervisors

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were used to the twists and turns of a PhD by thesis and had a good sense of what was a useful turn and what may be a dead end (or at least had some experience they could bring to bear), it was harder to make informed decisions about the journey of a PhD by project. Two differences in the supervision process did emerge: they revolved not around the actual work of the candidate so much as around the management of something that was novel in the University (and beyond). First, the supervisors needed to pay more than usual attention to managing their own, the candidate’s, other stakeholders’ and the examiners’ excitement and anxiety about being involved in something that was new and in some ways unknown. More will be said about this below. Second, it was important to ensure that the University’s policies and processes (as discussed previously) helped rather than hindered the progress of the thesis. The supervisors therefore needed to play an active role in ensuring that policies and guidelines that were developed during this time were appropriate. Informally, the supervisors spent time making sure that the key decision makers in the University were kept up to date and were able to appreciate how the work was different and why it was important.

Advice Whilst the suggestions below relate specifically to the supervision of a PhD project in RMIT Business, it is worth noting that many of them probably would apply in any instance where a candidate was planning to do anything that would be viewed as novel by the university and/or faculty involved. Gain and nurture institutional support at University, Faculty and School level The progress of this PhD through the School of Management, RMIT Business and the University systems was relatively unproblematic when compared to earlier experiences of introducing new forms of higher degrees (e.g. the DBA). The recent devolution of approval processes discussed above was certainly a factor in this, but the authors also spent considerable time ensuring that key stakeholders within the University were aware of what was planned and why the PhD was being undertaken as a project. The candidate was encouraged to share her work with her academic peers both locally and internationally so that concerns about the rigour of the work could be addressed early on.


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The supervisors were careful to follow the Faculty’s procedures as closely as possible and when there was a need for policy to be developed (such as Faculty guidelines for the examination of a PhD by project), then this was done well in advance so that decision makers had time to voice concerns and ask questions. The authors also spent time investigating how a PhD by project was managed in other faculties within the University so that our approach was not in conflict with that adopted elsewhere. Have a clearly articulated rationale for undertaking a PhD by project rather than by thesis Central to the process of keeping stakeholders informed and helping them understand the need to do something different was the supervisors and the candidate being able to clearly articulate why the research project should be undertaken as a PhD by project rather than by thesis, that is, what the benefits would be for the candidate, the University and knowledge creation. It was also important to be able to explain the particular strengths of a PhD by project to avoid the risk of it possibly being seen as an inferior PhD—as has been the case with, for example, some professional doctorates (Morley 1999). As discussed earlier, it was vital that, from the beginning, issues of rigour and academic standards be addressed head on and that a PhD by project not be viewed as an easy option because it required less written work. Work within institutional procedures The process for transferring the candidate from a PhD by thesis to a PhD by project was described in detail above. As mentioned, we took a conservative approach and asked the candidate to submit a revised proposal and rationale, even though her study had previously been approved for a PhD by thesis. Overall the same approach of requiring a further candidature approval would be followed with any further transfers of this type. It is hoped that the new candidature approval process would make this a more streamlined exercise in the future. Have a very competent and motivated candidate The management and supervision of this first PhD by project was made easier because we were working with a candidate who was very competent. We always had confidence in her capacity to meet the required standards. We think that when undertaking something for

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the first time, having a high quality candidate is a real benefit. We know that examiners pay a lot of attention to the way materials are presented to them in terms of spelling, grammar, layout, etc., and this candidate’s material was impeccably presented (Kiley and Mullins 2001). She was also highly motivated and graduated just 3 years after enrolment, even though she was a part time candidate and also worked full time. Her motivation was matched by that of her supervisors—this was also important, because if we had gone into this reluctantly, we suspect it would have been easy to get bogged down in the procedural requirements and concerns about how the work would be accepted and there might have been a temptation to encourage the candidate to stick to a more traditional format. Work as a team In any supervision situation, it is vital that the supervisors develop ways of working together that most benefit the candidate. In this case, it was particularly important because we were often entering uncharted waters and we had to be able to present the candidate with clear guidelines as to what she needed to do, and to provide her with feedback that was useful and consistent. It was important that we were able to share our concerns with one another and to work through any differences of opinion with each other before talking with the candidate. This was especially important when our differences arose from being unsure about the exact nature and requirements of a PhD by project. At times we needed to make a decision and inform the candidate of that decision. At other times, when there seemed to be no clear answer, we would discuss options with the candidate. This need for teamwork included working with the School’s Co-ordinator of Research Students and also with the Faculty’s Associate Dean (Research). They were key stakeholders in the process and, as discussed above, they were involved in the decision making process from the beginning. Select and brief examiners and carefully manage the examination process The process of identifying appropriate examiners, briefing them and agreeing on a suitable date for the examination took more than three months, and thinking about potential examiners and initial enquiries began more than six months before that. In addition, we gave the examiners one month to read the materials prior to the examination.


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Starting the process of setting up the examination very early contributed significantly, we think, to the fact that the process went smoothly. The other key factor was the detailed briefing of all the key players. The people who were to participate in the public event received detailed information about what would be expected of them, as did the invited audience (which we kept relatively small to allow for interaction). The examiners also received a verbal and written brief including details of the presentation and what would occur afterwards (e.g. their meeting with the candidate). Each of the examiners was contacted by one of the supervisors a week before the examination and also on the day, to check if they had any questions. The supervisors, the candidate and the Associate Dean (Research), who was chairing the examination, met to map out the process. This was done in a lot of detail, to the extent of exchanging notes on what we would say in our introduction, to prevent repetition, and working out the exact timing of each part of the process. We also made contingency plans for the most likely adverse events (such as interruptions from the audience at inappropriate times). We worked intensively with the candidate during the last few weeks to prepare her for the examination; this process included having her read the work of the examiners so she would have an understanding of their theoretical interests and concerns. This sounds like a lot of work, and it was, but we think that this level of preparation resulted in the process going very smoothly and enhanced the examination experience for all concerned. We also gave serious thought to logistical issues such as where the examination would be held. Unlike an oral defence of a thesis, this was a public presentation of the work and so the actual aesthetics of the space in which this occurred were important. The candidate selected a space that was suitable and put considerable effort into preparing it in ways that added to the examination experience. Considerable thought was also given to the seating arrangements so that everybody had a good view of proceedings, but at the same time the candidate could work comfortably with the presentation participants. Having reflected on the examination process and the outcome of that process it is clear that all of the elements described above (presentation by candidate, questions from audience, oral examination of candidate by examiners) would be retained in future such examinations. However, the balance across these elements is worthy of further consideration. This mainly relates to the time devoted to each of the elements. The interactive demonstration of the work was valuable to the audience in enabling them to formulate questions and issues to

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be discussed. However, the examiners had already seen a demonstration of the work on the video component of the durable visual record. Thus it is reasonable to conjecture that the examiners would have preferred a reduction in this element of the process and greater time for audience questions. The challenge is how to make a trade off in the timing that gives the audience enough detail about the project to frame questions and issues while recognising that this use of time cuts back on the audience questions. Given the importance of public defence in maintaining the rigour, this matter will be of ongoing importance. The other key issue in the examination process is the number of examiners to use. In a standard thesis examination the written thesis would be sent to two examiners. In the event that the two examiners disagree—for example, one examiner recommends pass and the other examiner recommends deferred for major revision—then the thesis is sent to a third examiner. This approach works well in thesis examination because every element of the work being assessed is contained in the written thesis. However, such an approach is unlikely to work well in project examination, given the additional presentation and defence elements involved. Therefore, as a conservative strategy, three examiners conducted the examination. This would be retained in future examinations of this type.

Conclusion This paper reported on some of the learnings we have gained over the past four years whilst supervising the first PhD by project undertaken in RMIT Business. The achievement of a successful outcome was facilitated by the factors discussed above. It has been demonstrated that it was possible to do something quite different from what had been done before as long as we worked within institutional requirements, kept key people informed, had good reasons for doing things differently and planned the process well.

References Bentz, V. and Shapiro, J. 1998, Mindful Inquiry in Social Research, Sage, Thousand Oaks. Brew, A. 2001, The Nature of Research: Inquiry in Academic Contexts, Routledge, London. Czarniawska, B. 1998a, A Narrative Approach to Organization Studies, Sage, Thousand Oaks.


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Czarniawska, B. 1998b, ‘Who is afraid of incommensurability?’ Organization, vol. 5, no. 2, pp. 273–6. DETYA 1999, Knowledge and Innovation: A Policy Statement on Research and Research Training, Department of Education, Training and Youth Affairs, Canberra. Donaldson, L. 1998, ‘The myth of paradigm incommensurability in management studies: Comments by an integrationist, Organization, vol. 5, no. 2, pp. 267–72. Ellis, C. 1999, ‘Heartful autoethnography’, Qualitative Health Research, vol. 5, no. 8, pp. 669–83. Jeffcutt, P. 1994, ‘From interpretation to representation in organizational analysis: Postmodernism, ethnography and organizational symbolism’, Organization Studies, vol. 15, no. 4, pp. 241–74. Kemmis, S. 2001, ‘Exploring the relevance of critical theory for action research: Emancipatory action research in the footsteps of Jurgen Habermas’, in Handbook of Action Research: Participative Inquiry and Practice, eds P. Reason and H. Bradbury, Sage, London, pp. 91–102. Kiley, M. and Mullins, G. 2001, ‘It’s a PhD not a Nobel Prize: How experienced examiners assess a research thesis’, paper presented at a meeting of Deans and Directors of Graduate Studies, Fremantle. Morley, C. 1999, How Professional? The Role of the University in Professional Doctorates, RMIT Business Working Paper, RMIT University, Melbourne. Park, P. 1999, ‘People, knowledge and change in participatory research’, Management Learning, vol. 30, no. 2, pp. 141–57. Richardson, L. 1997, Fields of Play: Constructing an Academic Life, Rutgers University Press, New Brunswick. RMIT 1996, Policy and Procedures for Higher Degrees by Research, RMIT University, Melbourne. RMIT 1998, Policy and Procedures for Higher Degrees by Research, RMIT University, Melbourne. RMIT 2001a, Policy and Procedures for Higher Degrees by Research, RMIT University, Melbourne. Available: http://www.rmit.edu.au/departments/aa/hdbooklet.pdf. RMIT 2001b, Research and Research Training Management Report, RMIT University, Melbourne. RMIT Business 2001, Research Student Manual, RMIT Business. Available: http://www.bf.rmit.edu.au/RDU/html/s_manual.html. Schön, D. 1983, The Reflective Practitioner: How Professionals Think in Action, Basic Books, New York.

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Smircich, L. and Calas, M.B. (eds) 1995, Critical Perspectives on Organization and Management Theory, Aldershot, Dartmouth. Stanley, L. (ed.) 1990, Feminist Praxis: Research, Theory and Epistemology in Feminist Sociology, Routledge, London. Van Maanen, J. 1988, Tales of the Field: On Writing Ethnography, The University of Chicago Press, Chicago.

CHAPTER 6

Cross-disciplinary comparison of research degrees by project: implications for supervision Dr Laura Brearley Introduction The emergence of research degrees by project at RMIT University is symptomatic of a broader growth of interest in the exploration of knowledge creation and data representation within academic research. RMIT currently has over 300 students enrolled in research degrees by project at masters and PhD levels, and the number is growing. In the past, research degrees by project have largely been the domain of art and design, but increasingly they are occurring in more diverse fields, such as education and business. There is now a significant number of students enrolled in project degrees in other disciplines. The growth in this area is generating significant debate about issues of supervision and examination, resourcing of students and the maintenance of rigour. Specific issues within workplace projects, collaborative projects and multi-disciplinary projects are adding another dimension to the debate. This chapter aims to ‘search the world again’ (Barone and Eisner 1997, p. 115) and to ‘broaden our views of what we know’ (Eisner 1998, p. 2) in the area of changing forms of research. In this paper, I examine supervision of research degrees by project from a crossdisciplinary perspective. I begin with a theoretical exploration of the changing nature of research, placing this research in the context of the larger academic debate about knowledge creation and data representation. Next I describe some research I have recently undertaken at RMIT, in which I interviewed academics supervising research by project candidates in a range of disciplines. I then describe the findings 89

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from my own research, in which I explored supervisors’ views on the complexities of supervising a research degree by project, the capabilities they felt were needed for supervising a project degree, and the support they needed from their organisational context in supervising research of this kind. I conclude by outlining some implications for supervisors and their organisational contexts.

What is a research degree by project? The inter-relationship between learning and practice is a key characteristic of the research degree by project qualification. Candidates undertaking research degrees by project generate practical knowledge which integrates academic discipline-based knowledge with knowledge contextualised from a field of practice (Jarvis 1999). Within these degrees, there is a convergence of theory and practice (Boud and Solomon 2001), and an acknowledgement of the significance of the context in which the research takes place (Gibbons et al. 1994). A research degree by thesis requires a written document of a specified word length. A research degree by project, by contrast, has two components. One component is the completion of a project, of which there is an observable durable record. The durable record may take the form of digital records, a manual, a video, a copy of the product, or a documented record of a workplace change or community development process with evaluation data. The second component is an exegesis which documents the process of knowledge production and describes the purpose, theoretical base and development of the project. On completion of the project, the candidates present their work to examiners.

Broadening views on knowledge creation With the focus on professional practice and reflexivity, research degrees by project raise particular issues around voice and identity of the researcher. This phenomenon is reflected in a growing body of literature which is challenging the voice of the researcher as omniscient academic observer and advocating for greater reflexivity and subjectivity within research. The epistemological underpinnings of this exploration come from the literature of representation, from ethnography (Richardson 1997, 2000; Haarsager 1998; Banks and Banks 1998; Morgan 1996; Tierney and Lincoln 1997; Jipson and Paley 1997), phenomenological perspectives (van Manen 1997; Ellis and Flaherty 1992; Ellis 1997), as well as from the field of educational

Cross-disciplinar y comparison of research degrees by project

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research (Barone and Eisner 1997; Eisner 1998; Lather 1991, 1997). These writers are exploring creative forms of representation which reflect richness and complexity of data and invite new and multiple levels of engagement that are both cognitive and emotional. Challenging the voice of the omniscient academic observer disturbs the very basis of epistemological assumptions, as articulated by Jipson and Paley (1997, p. 2): What counts as research? What matters as data? What procedures are considered legitimate for the production of knowledge? What forms shape the making of explanations? What constitutes proof? The post-positivist era, with its ‘decline of the absolutes’ (Lecourt 1975), profoundly challenges notions of ‘fact’ and ‘truth’ as independent from theory (Hesse 1980). Lather (1991) argues that new visions for generating social knowledge are required, which are humanly compelling and which are built on vigorous self-reflexivity that encompasses epistemological, theoretical and empirical levels of awareness. Lather contends that the post-positivist challenge to prescribed rules and boundaries has resulted in ‘a constructive turmoil that allows for a search of different possibilities of making sense of human life, for other ways of knowing which do justice to the complexity, tenuity, and indeterminancy of most of human experience’ (Lather 1991, p. 52). Compliance with a prescribed way of knowing, which does not honour the nature of the question or the purpose of the research, runs the risk of over-simplifying or distorting the richness of data. Albrow (1997) contends that ‘rationalism has distorted the language of social description in general and the place of emotion in particular’ (Albrow 1997, p. 112). The use of alternative discourses in research is predicated on the notion that there are many different ways in which the world can be experienced and represented (Barone and Eisner 1997). It also reflects the idea that some human experiences are so complex and intensely emotional that multiple voices may be needed to evoke the texture of the experience. By their very nature, research degrees by project are often complex and multi-layered, encompassing integrated issues of form, content and context. Broadening the range of ways in which research is undertaken and represented extends an invitation to engage with experience in new ways. It invites us to transcend the limitations of our usual frames

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of reference and beliefs, so that new patterns of association can be brought into play (van Maanen 1983). Engagement with research of this kind can generate levels of awareness that combine cognitive, emotional and creative aspects of our being. Expanding the range of choices available to researchers has implications for candidates, for supervisors and for examiners. The focus of this paper rests with supervisors, although it will have relevance for postgraduate students as well as examiners.

The changing nature of research The deep questions about the nature of research that have been raised in the post-modern debate about representation (Richardson 1997, 2000; Ellis 1999; Jipson and Paley 1997), have taken the academic world into new and liminal terrain, in which conventional structures may no longer be honoured and the seeds of creativity may be able to grow in potentially subversive ways (Turner 1982; Carlson 1996). The sense of excitement that is generated by the liminal is closely linked to the discomfort that can emerge from the disintegration of familiar patterns and expectations of form (Broadhurst 1999). It can leave researchers and supervisors unclear about boundaries between selfdisclosure and self-indulgence and the appropriate nexus between scholarship and creativity. Underpinning the new forms of research is an epistemological premise that there are multiple ways of experiencing, knowing and communicating (Jipson and Paley 1997). There is no single, correct way to have an experience or transmit knowledge of that experience (Lather 1991; Lather and Smithies 1997). When the concept of absolutes is challenged, the notion of theory-neutral language and theory-independent facts, providing unmediated access to reality, is also undermined (Rorty 1979; Hesse 1980). Belenky, Clinchy, Goldberger and Tarule’s questions, from their seminal research on women’s ways of knowing, go to the heart of the culturally-bound, relativist nature of knowledge. They ask (1986, p. 3): ‘What is truth? What is authority? To whom do I listen? What counts for me as evidence? How do I know what I know?’ Emerging from the context of doubt that such questions raise, is Lather’s concept of ‘constructive turmoil that allows for a search of different possibilities of making sense of human life, for other ways of knowing which do justice to the complexity, tenuity, and indeterminancy of most of human experience’ (Lather 1991, p. 52). The expanded views of how research may be framed, generated by the loss


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of confidence in modernist concepts of knowledge, have engendered an exploration of research approaches that are designed to make a difference (Reason and Rowan 1981; Lather 1991). Research by project is one form of this kind of research, which is designed to deepen professional practice.

Personal perspective My interest in this area has grown from my own recent experience of completing a PhD by project in the School of Management at RMIT. We believe that it was the first research by project PhD in Business in Australia and, being the first of its kind, the experience raised many issues for me as a candidate, as well as for my supervisors and examiners. Some key questions emerging from this experience were: • How can we work within a recognised framework of scholarship and challenge its assumptions about form? • How can we stretch the edges of a recognised form and retain its strengths? • How can we move beyond compliance to an authentic originality? Since completing my doctorate, I have become interested in the ways in which other disciplines are managing these complexities and ensuring that rigour is not compromised by innovative approaches to research. The exploration of these issues can be placed in a broader discussion currently taking place in the academy, about the nature of knowledge and the legitimacy of new forms of research.

RMIT experiences of research degrees by project The research topics currently being undertaken through project degrees at RMIT are wide and varied. They encompass creative projects, practitioner-based research and cross-disciplinary projects. Here are some examples of current research by project degrees, from three different faculties at RMIT: Education, Language and Community Services • Use of art in reconciliation processes within an aboriginal community;

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• implementation of multi-treatment teams in rural hospitals; • organisational change and program renewal in a Motor Mechanics Faculty in a TAFE Institute. Constructed Environment • Designs for the public image of home; • functional ambiguity in furniture design; • integrating window coverings in design processes. Art, Design & Communication • Representations of atmospheric phenomena and the construction of a cultural psyche; • the 18th century printroom and contemporary installation practice; • the reconstruction of historical jewelry and its relevance as contemporary artefact. To gain a broad perspective of supervisors’ approaches to research degrees by project within the university, I interviewed supervisors from the following discipline areas: • • • • • • •

Education; Architecture & Design; Interior Design; Engineering; Business; Fine Art; and Fashion.

In unstructured interviews, I asked the following questions: • In your experience, what are some of the complexities of supervising a research degree by project, compared to a research degree by thesis? • What capabilities do you believe are needed for supervising a research degree by project in your field? • In what ways could your organisational context provide better support for your supervision of research degrees by project?


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Linking research with professional practice A praxis-oriented approach rejects the role of researcher placed safely behind ‘philosophical double glazing’, treating the human dimensions as ‘interesting examples of discourse’ (Parker 1992, p. 11). In other words, it moves the researcher into action through reflective practice. Close links with professional practice were identified by a number of supervisors as significant in research by project, as the following example indicates: Research by project integrates academic-based research into a work-based project. It deepens students’ understanding of what they would normally do. (Education) Many project degrees are located in a discourse of engagement and connection, which invites responses that stir people to become more fully human to feel and to act (Kincheloe and McLaren 2000, p. 290). Researchers in this tradition are committed to research designs that are contextualised, interactive and humanly compelling (Lather 1991; Reinharz 1979; Reason and Rowan 1981; Sabia and Wallulis 1983). They advocate praxis-oriented research designs that are committed to action and are ‘change-enhancing, reciprocally educative encounters’ (Lather 1991, p. 72). To honour the dialectics and the complexities of their experiences, project degrees undertaken in workplaces often need to encompass different forms of representation and analysis which can reflect multiple realities (McWhinney 1997). Supervisors recognised that close associations with workplaces both enriched and introduced another dimension of complexity to the research process: We need to understand the politics of the workplace and the limitations and opportunities of workplace research. We need to challenge the view that the project must work. There’s anxiety about that. We need to separate out the research project and handle both the political and academic issues. (Education) Issues of boundaries and ownership were particularly complex in the research degrees by project undertaken in Engineering. The separating out of the research process and the workplace project itself requires constant vigilance from both supervisors and candidates. Their experience of close links with industry was fraught with difficulties:

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Intellectual property is a major issue, made more complex when working so closely with industry. It is still unresolved. (Engineering)

Multi-dimensional nature of research and supervision The nature of research itself is changing. Researchers now have more choices, and this is impacting on the nature of the research experience itself, as well as on the kind of supervision needed. A supervisor’s role is to support the candidate to go back to their own work in the light of theory. Students are used to working fast. Reflection takes time. Students need to be supported to take that time. (Architecture & Design) Supervising research by project can require an understanding of both the emotional and cognitive dimensions of research, as the following excerpt reveals. People do identify with their work. Supervisors need to be able to modulate emotionally and sympathetically because the work is so intimately bound up with personal psyche. A thesis is more externalized than a creative project. (Fine Art) This multi-dimensionality of experience, which incorporates both internal and external aspects of research, reflects the literature on issues of voice and identity (Richardson 2000; Brew 2001; Meloy 2002; Rhedding-Jones 1997; Leonard 2001) and literature on the relational dimensions of the research (Lee and Green 1999; Broder 1984; Hattauer and Broder 1993). It is also borne out in the body of literature which focuses on the emotional nature of the experience of qualitative research from ethnographic, phenomenological and feminist perspectives, (Gilbert 2001; Jaggar 1992, 1994; Rosenblatt 2001; Harris and Huntington 2001; Wincup 2001). As one supervisor put it: Research degrees by project ask students to go somewhere they wouldn’t normally go. A project is an exciting thing, an exciting event. (Architecture & Design)


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Creating and assessing knowledge Theories of learning and knowledge creation provide another perspective on the experience of both undertaking and examining research by project. The supervisor’s own relationship to the knowledge creation process was acknowledged: A project invites a different relationship to knowledge. A supervisor needs to be a facilitator in the realisation of the candidate’s work. The task is to walk alongside them rather than impart knowledge. It is studentcentred learning. (Interior Design) The process of examining research degrees by project is strongly influenced by the ways in which candidates and examiners choose to make meaning of the knowledge that has been generated through the research (Mezirow 1981, 1990; Gould 1980; Jarvis 1987, 1999; Habermas 1987). A project has different ways of being positioned and examined. (Interior Design) The examination of a research by project degree is arguably more complex than the anonymous nature of the research by thesis examination. Research degrees by project generate a greater range of possibilities in how the research may be presented for examination. The nature of the presentation which accompanies the exegesis is determined by the research topic, but the availability of examiners and the pragmatic limitations of space, cost and timing also need careful consideration. The criteria used for examining projects introduce another layer of complexity into the examination process. The examination criteria outlined in the university guidelines are not discipline-specific and an aesthetic dimension to the project can also introduce a greater degree of subjectivity into the process of examination: Criteria for assessing are not as clear or well-known in project degrees. Picking examiners is more difficult. (Business) This need for greater clarity was also identified by a supervisor in Engineering, who described the assumptions, questions and needs in his discipline area:

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There was a cultural issue that a thesis needs to be a big book. Faculties in pioneering phase need to clarify: ‘What is acceptable to us as a Faculty?’ ‘What are the requirements of a masters’ level? We need additional criteria that are not yet identified. (Engineering) A supervisor from Architecture and Design also raised issues about the role of the examination chair in influencing judgements. In project degrees, judgements in design are not rational, they are subjective...The chair of the examination panel needs to be positive. It’s a celebration as well as an examination. The chair needs to be briefed prior to the examination. (Architecture & Design) Richardson (2000), a social scientist and ethnographer, has developed five criteria for reviewing research which encompasses new forms of inquiry. These criteria are a helpful starting point in expanding the ways in which we frame assessment. They are listed here, with adaptations of her questions to the research by project context: 1. Substantive contribution Does this work contribute to our understanding of practice? 2. Aesthetic merit Does the piece succeed aesthetically? Does the use of alternative forms of representation open up the text, inviting interpretive responses? Is the text artistically shaped, satisfying and complex? 3. Reflexivity Is there adequate self-awareness and self-exposure for the reader to make judgements about the point of view? 4. Impact Does this affect me, emotionally and intellectually? Does it generate new questions? Does it move me to action?


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5. Expression of a reality Does this text embody a fleshed out, embodied sense of lived experience? Does it seem ‘true’—a credible account of a cultural, social, individual, or communal sense of the ‘real’? Richardson’s criteria are not necessarily appropriate for all new forms of research, but they do reflect the changing scope of assessment criteria for new forms of research.

Supervisory capabilities The research experience can be fertile ground for learning about self, context, identity and values clarification. The experience can be both liberating and crushing at a personal level. It can lead to a greater sense of internal freedom and power (Gould 1980) and an openness to experience, and an increased capacity to discriminate and to integrate experience (Mezirow 1990). It can also be damaging. Supervisors need to be able to read the verbal and non-verbal cues from students and provide appropriate supervisory interventions. We need to have an understanding of the ways in which the research experience can be connected to the structure of the self, in ourselves as supervisors, and in our students. We need to be awake to our own ways of interpreting experience to help frame our supervisory practice. This requires an awareness of our own strengths and limitations and a willingness to be reflexive about our own practice. According to the supervisors who participated in this research, the capabilities needed in supervisors to manage this range of complexities included personal qualities, organisational skills and a sound knowledge of the system. They advocated that supervisors needed to demonstrate patience, flexibility, empathy and creativity. They also identified an openness to different methods of research as important. Other areas of competence that were identified for supervisors were the capacity to: • • • • •

work alongside the candidate; manage something novel; offer theoretical challenges; manage change in a bureaucracy; and manage one’s own anxiety.

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These capacities encompass the significance of developing a healthy relationship with the self, with the candidate, and with key stakeholders in the organisational context.

Implications for research supervision Expanding the range of choices available to researchers has implications for us as supervisors. We need to develop systems and strategies of mutual learning and support to nourish our work. There is a need to develop research supervisors and examiners who understand the language or discourses of, and rationales behind, alternative forms of inquiry. Supervisors identified a number of ways in which enhanced organisational support could be provided for research degrees by project. Some of the support was framed in terms of greater clarity in guidelines: There was a lack of policy. There were no faculty guidelines for examination. We were making policy as we went. We had to customise the guidelines. (Business) A supervisor from Architecture and Design highlighted the need for on-going opportunities for sharing practice amongst supervisors: Supervisors need to meet with each other to talk about what they’re doing… (Architecture & Design) The issue of the most appropriate models of supervision for meeting the needs of project students was also raised. Supervisors’ perspectives differed about the models of supervision that were most effective in research degrees by project. The supervisory model in many of the projects in Education uses a team approach: Projects are often multi-disciplinary. Not all capabilities are needed in one supervisor. (Education) A supervisor from Architecture and Design concurred with this approach: It’s important to establish a multi-disciplinary supervisory team. (Architecture & Design)


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Much of supervision is about acknowledging and managing complexity and paradox. It is about supporting and challenging, being present and leaving space. Supervision is about providing useful guidance, and opening a way for a student’s own learning. It is also about knowing the difference between providing emotional support and therapy, and making referrals when necessary. Ideally, we need systems of reflective learning and mutual support to develop and deepen our practice as supervisors.

Conclusion The act of supervision is a generative process involving productivity, maturity and creativity. Supervision involves mastery of a set of skills and knowledge and the capacity to pass these on to students, along with a sense of agency. It also requires an awareness of the emotional and existential dimensions of the research experience and its potential to be both transformative and traumatic. Acknowledging the multi-layered nature of the research experience requires knowledge, sensitivity and self-awareness in supervisors. Supervisors need to have an understanding of the ways in which the research experience can be connected to the structure of the self, in ourselves as supervisors, and in our students. As supervisors in the context of new forms of research, we need to be aware of our own strengths and limitations and to be willing to be reflexive about our own practice. Exploring expanded forms of knowledge creation and data representation is a political act that challenges long-established and revered traditions. Greater numbers of capable supervisors are needed, who can work with an expanded range of research paradigms and who can act as role models, mentors and advocates for greater flexibility within the academic system. By implication, also, there is the need to educate examiners in the issues emerging from new forms of research. A pool of examiners needs to be developed who are open to exploring new relationships between form and content within higher research degrees. Some excellent practice in supervision of research degrees by project currently exists and much can be learned from sharing stories of what has worked, as well as what has been learned from the difficulties along the way. The participants within this piece of research have provided an overview of the learning that is currently underway in our own university about the impact of new forms of knowledge creation. The insights of these supervisors are evidence of the expertise that

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exists within our academic community. It is important to build on our learning experiences through on-going dialogue and critical reflection with supervisors as well as with examiners and candidates. The growth of interest in research by project is a reflection of a larger academic trend of more closely integrating form and content within research. Providing a greater range of choices for researchers is an expansive act, which has the potential to broaden the parameters of our expertise. Through recording the insights of supervisors, and inviting reflection on some of the issues about supervising new forms of research, I hope that this paper contributes to a longer-term process of enriching the practice of our scholarship.

References Albrow, M. 1997, Do Organizations Have Feelings?, Routledge, New York, USA. Banks, A. and Banks, S. (eds) 1998, Fiction and Social Research: By Ice or Fire, Sage Publications, California, USA. Barone, T. and Eisner, E. 1997, ‘Arts-based educational research’, in Complementary Methods for Research in Education’, 2nd edition, ed. R. Jaeger., American Education Research Association, Washington DC, USA, pp. 71–116. Belenky, M.F., Clinchy, B.M., Goldberger, N.R. and Tarule, J.M. 1986, Women’s Ways of Knowing: The Development of the Self, Voice and Mind, Basic Books, New York, USA. Boud, D. and Solomon, N. (eds) 2001, Work-based Learning: A New Higher Education? SRHE and Open University Press, Buckingham. Brew, A. 2001, The Nature of Research: Inquiry in Academic Contexts, Routledge Falmer, London. Broadhurst, S. 1999, Liminal Acts: A Critical Overview of Contemporary Performance and Theory, Cassell, London, UK. Broder, S.N. 1984, The ‘loving and leaving dilemma’: Implications for supervisors and supervisees, unpublished manuscript, in Hattauer, E.A. and Broder, S.N. 1993, ‘Developmental difficulties in dissertation: Intrapsychic and interpersonal dilemmas’, in The Dissertation Handbook: A Guide to Successful Dissertations, ed. E.T. Nickerson, 1993, Kendall/Hunt Publishing, Dubuque, Iowa, USA. Bruner, E.M. 1993, ‘Introduction: The ethnographic self and the personal self’, in Anthropology and Literature, ed. P. Benson, University of Illinois Press, Urbana, USA, pp. 1–26.


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Carlson, M. 1996, Performance: A Critical Introduction, Routledge, New York, USA. Coyle, S. 1998, ‘Dancing with the chameleon’, in Fiction and Social Research: By Ice or Fire, eds A. Banks and S. Banks, Sage Publications, California, USA, pp. 147–66. Eisner, E. 1998, The Enlightened Eye: Qualitative Inquiry and the Enhancement of Educational Practice, Prentice-Hall, New Jersey, USA. Ellis, C. 1997, ‘Evocative autoethnography: Writing emotionally about our lives’ in Representation and the Text: Reframing the Narrative Voice, eds W. Tierney and T. Lincoln, State University of New York Press, Albany, USA, pp. 115–42. Ellis, C. and Flaherty, M. (eds) 1992, Investigating Subjectivity: Research on Lived Experience, Sage Publications, California, USA. Gibbons, M., Limoges, C., Notwotny, H. et al. 1994, The New Production of Knowledge: The Dynamics of Research in Contemporary Society, Sage, London. Gilbert, K. 2001, ‘Introduction: Why are we interested in emotions?’, in The Emotional Nature of Qualitative Research, ed. K. Gilbert, CRC Press, Boca Raton, Florida, USA. Gould, R.L. 1980, Transformations: Growth and Change in Adult Life, Simon and Schuster, New York. Haarsager, S. 1998, ‘Stories that tell it like it is? Fiction techniques and prize-winning journalism’, in Fiction and Social Research: By Ice or Fire, eds A. Banks and S. Banks, Sage Publications, California, USA, pp. 51–66. Habermas, J. 1987, Knowledge and Human Interests, Polity Press, London. Harris, J. and Huntington, A. 2000, ‘Emotions as analytic tools: Qualitative research. Feelings and psychotherapeutic insight’, in The Emotional Nature of Qualitative Research, ed. K. Gilbert, CRC Press, Boca Raton, Florida, USA. Hattauer, E.A. and Broder, S.N. 1993, ‘Developmental difficulties in dissertation: Intrapsychic and interpersonal dilemmas’, in The Dissertation Handbook: A Guide to Successful Dissertations, ed. E.T. Nickerson, Kendall/Hunt Publishing, Dubuque, Iowa, USA. Hesse, M. 1980, Revolution and Reconstruction in the Philosophy of Science, Indiana University Press, Bloomington, USA. Houle, C.O. 1961, The Enquiring Mind: A Study of the Adult Who Continues to Learn, University of Wisconsin Press, Madison. Jaggar, A.M. 1992, ‘Love and knowledge: Emotion in feminist epistemology’, in Women and Reason, eds E.D. Harvey and K. Okruhlik, University of Michigan Press, Ann Arbor, MI, pp. 115–42.

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Jaggar, A.M. 1994, Living with Contradictions: Controversies in Feminist Social Ethics, Westview Press, Boulder, USA. Jarvis, P. 1987, Adult Learning in the Social Context, Croom Helm, London. Jarvis, P. 1999, The Practitioner Researcher: Developing Theory from Practice, Jossey-Bass, San Francisco. Jipson, J. and Paley, N. (eds) 1997, Daredevil Research: Re-creating Analytic Practice, Peter Lang Publishing, New York, USA. Lather, P. 1991, Getting Smart: Feminist Research and Pedagogy with/in the Postmodern, Routledge, New York, USA. Lather, P. and Smithies, C. 1997, Troubling the Angels: Women Living with HIV/AIDS, Westview Press, USA. Lecourt, D. 1975, Marxism and Epistemology, National Labor Board, London, UK. Lee, A. and Green, B. 1999, Post-graduate Studies, Post-graduate Pedagogy, Centre for Language and Literacy, University of Technology, Sydney, Australia. Leonard, D. 2001, A Woman’s Guide to Doctoral Studies, Open University Press, Philadelphia, USA. McWhinney, W. 1997, Paths of Change: Strategic Choices for Organizations and Society, Sage Publications, Thousand Oaks, California, USA. Meloy, J. 2002, Writing the Qualitative Dissertation: Understanding by Doing, 2nd edition, Lawrence Erlbaum Associates, Publishers, Mahwah, New Jersey. Mezirow, J. 1981, ‘A critical theory of adult learning and education’, Adult Education, vol. 32, no. 1, pp. 3–24. Mezirow, J. and Associates 1990, Fostering Critical Reflection in Adulthood: A Guide to Transformative and Emancipatory Learning, Jossey-Bass, San Francisco. Morgan, G. 1996, ‘An afterword: Is there anything more to be said about metaphor?’ in Metaphor and Organizations, eds D. Grant and C. Oswick, Sage Publications, London, UK, pp. 227–40. Reason, P. and Rowan, J. 1981, ‘Issues of validity in new paradigm research’, in Human Inquiry, eds P. Reason and J. Rowan, John Wiley, New York, USA, pp 239–52. Reinharz, S. 1979, On Becoming a Social Scientist, Jossey-Bass, San Francisco, USA. Rhedding-Jones, D. 1997, ‘Doing a feminist post-structural doctorate’, Gender and Education, vol. 9, no. 2, pp. 193–206. Richardson, L. 1997, Fields of Play: Constructing an Academic Life, Rutgers University Press, New Jersey, USA.


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Richardson, L. 2000, ‘Writing a method of enquiry’ in Handbook of Qualitative Research, 2nd edition, eds N. Denzin and Y. Lincoln, Sage Publications, California, USA. Rorty, R. 1979, Philosophy and the Mirror of Nature, Princeton University Press, Princeton, New Jersey, USA. Rosenblatt, P. 2001, Qualitative research as a spiritual experience’, in The Emotional Nature of Qualitative Research, ed. K. Gilbert, CRC Press, Boca Raton, Florida, USA. Sabia, D. and Wallulis, J. (eds) 1983, Changing Social Science: Critical Theory and Other Critical Perspectives, State University of New York Press, Albany, USA. Tierney, W. and Lincoln, T. 1997, Representation and the Text: Reframing the Narrative Voice, State University of New York Press, Albany, USA. Turner, V. 1982, From Ritual to Theatre, Performing Arts Journal Publications, New York, USA. Van Maanen, J. 1983, Qualitative Methodology, Sage Publications, California, USA. Van Manen, M. 1997, ‘From meaning to method’, Qualitative Health Research, vol. 7, no. 3 (August), pp. 345–70. Wincup, E. 2001, ‘Feminist research with women awaiting trial: The effects on participants in the qualitative research process’, in The Emotional Nature of Qualitative Research, ed. K. Gilbert, CRC Press, Boca Raton, Florida, USA.

CHAPTER 7

Supervising professional doctorate research is different Professor Clive Morley Professional doctorates have grown rapidly in Australia over recent times to a position of prominence and some times controversy (Maxwell, Shanahan and Green 2001; Maxwell and Shanahan 2001). They are seen as meeting demands for both a new type of research degree and highly advanced professional education (Maxwell, Shanahan and Green 2001; Morley 1999a). Their differences from traditional research doctoral studies, notably the Doctor of Philosophy (PhD), raise challenges to standing policies and practices for research degrees (Maxwell, Shanahan and Green 2001) and aspects such as supervision of candidates. It is the issue of supervision that is considered in this chapter. The proposition argued for, set out in its title, would be seen by some conservative academics as a criticism indicative of the problems of such degree programs. It is contended that the proposition holds, and therefore it is important it is understood in universities; but that it is a sign of difference, not an essentially damning criticism. This chapter is a reflection on the experience of supervising the research of professional doctorate candidates. Discussion of supervision of research students has generally been predominantly theoretical, with little empirical consideration of how supervisors and students work together (Chapman and Sork 2001; Johnson, Lee and Green 2000). The approach adopted is a comparison of professional doctorate supervision—of Doctor of Business Administration (DBA) candidates—with Doctor of Philosophy supervision, through sharing and reflecting on the author’s own supervisory experience, in the manner of Chapman and Sork (2001) and Benaquisto (2000). It is argued here that professional doctorates provide an opportunity, a means and a necessity to move away from the one to one, apprentice model (Sharp and Howard 1996, p. 28), set in a very paternalistic relationship (Moses 1994, pp. 20–1), of research supervision 106

Super vising professional doctorate research is dif ferent

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common in PhD programs, and that therefore supervising professional doctorates candidates is different from supervision of PhD candidates. In support of the proposition that this different approach can work, I submit that ‘the fact that they’ve got through is a validation of my method’, (like the ‘Dr Challoner’ quoted in Delamont, Parry and Atkinson, 1998, p. 165). This last point can be seen as overly reductionist, but for at least some students it is all that matters, and for all it is vital. The keys to the necessity of the supervisory difference lie in the differences between the DBA and PhD program structures, experiences and candidates, so these differences are explored in the next sections, along with their implications for supervision. Then follows discussion of two representative cases, one of PhD and one of DBA supervision, illustrating some of the differences in practice.

The PhD and DBA compared For professional doctorates to have a sound reason for being offered they need to be distinguishable in important ways from the PhD (Morley 1999b). Briefly, the rationale is that if a professional doctorate is too closely like a PhD, especially in the vital research aspect, then there is no necessity for it to exist separately from the PhD. The American model of a PhD shows that the inclusion of coursework in the doctoral program is not sufficient reason to have a distinct professional doctorate. Nor is an emphasis on applied research, which the PhD can accommodate. The rationale for professional doctorates lies in their research and learning objectives being different from those of the PhD, in the different candidates they attract and the ambitions of those candidates (Morley 1999a). One way that has been used (by the DBA program director at RMIT) to explain the difference in research objectives to students is that a PhD thesis must make ‘a contribution to knowledge’, whilst a DBA thesis is required to be ‘a contribution to professional practice’. The DBA thesis thus cannot be predominantly theoretical (as a PhD thesis, of course, can) and must be grounded in an area of professional practice and contribute to knowledge in that context. This idea of being grounded in professional practice is taken very seriously, and is seen as a source of much of the complexity and sophistication required for doctoral work. Hence DBA candidates are required to have a professional business qualification, such as an MBA, and extensive professional experience, which they are expected to draw on and relate to their studies in both the coursework and research parts of the program.

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The DBA professional doctorate—structure and experience The DBA program is a complicated mixture of research (called ‘supervised professional practice’ which accentuates the nature of the research emphasis), advanced coursework and reflective seminars. To help explain the program and process to DBA candidates, who have at times of crisis strongly expressed a need for an explanation that goes beyond the timetabled course structure (Morley and Priest 2001), diagrams like Figure 1 have been used. This diagram contrasts the straightforward pursuit of a single research topic in a PhD with the planned spiral of advance and revisiting of topics and themes central to the DBA learning. The spiral metaphor was developed with a group of candidates (originating in the educational theory of Bruner 1960). It is designed to show the curriculum as a planned series of returns to key concepts throughout the program, with expanded and deepened conceptual understanding at each revisiting. The arrows are directional to indicate progress (a vital concern to the candidates). The intention is to indicate design in a confusing process for the candidates then experiencing it, and to draw a contrast with a more linear way of progression in the PhD (for more on this, and other representations of the DBA process, see Morley and Priest 2001). This may well be a simplification of the actual research process in many PhDs, but it helpfully accentuates the contrast with the DBA. An important feature of the DBA candidates’ experience is that they do their course and reflective work with a cohort, typically of 10–12 students. The cohort remains generally together through these parts of the program and at least the initial steps of the research component. On the research side, they consider methodologies, research proposal approval, ethics approval, intellectual property issues, and some other concerns, together as a group. Although the candidates are pursuing quite different research projects, the weekly cohort meeting builds a camaraderie and supportive network independent of the supervisor and unlike the sometimes isolated and lonely experience of the PhD.


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Figure 1: The DBA spiral curriculum model

DBA and PhD candidates compared Much of the literature on doctoral experiences has assumed a stereotype of the student as young and full-time, probably supported by a

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scholarship (Denicolo and Pope 1994; Ryan 1994). However, the professional doctorate reality is that the students are usually mature, parttime and self-funded (wholly, or with employer support). The RMIT DBA recruits mature and experienced professionals, who have achieved highly in their careers but have little or no academic research experience. The DBA candidate may well have more knowledge and professional experience of the area of professional practice being researched than their supervisor does. For example, the DBA candidate described in Case 2 (below) was working as a consultant on website design and researching a methodology for designing websites with a supervisor who has no particular computer expertise and has never designed a website. This is much less likely, or appropriate, in a PhD program. That such supervision can work successfully in the DBA means that the supervision is different from the standard PhD model. The criteria used in selecting candidates into the RMIT DBA are: • Mandatory – an MBA degree (or close equivalent) plus significant (say minimum 10 years) work experience • Selection ranking based on – high level work experience; – post-MBA work and promotions; – leadership positions achieved (or evidence of leadership potential); – academic results; and – the proposed research. These are assessed through a written application required to include information on such matters, as well as through the applicant’s curriculum vitae and a subsequent interview. By contrast, the selection criteria used for selecting PhD candidates are usually confined to academic results and the proposed research topic. The ideal DBA entrant is a holder of an MBA who has subsequently gone on into senior management positions and has a clear idea of a possible area of research that has some foundation in strategic management (which is the discipline focus of the current DBA at RMIT). They may not qualify for direct PhD entry, because they do not have an honours degree and their masters has only a small research component. On the other hand, a recently completed graduate with first class honours results and only a little, low level, work experience could be welcomed into PhD studies, but not qualified for DBA entry.


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Ryan (1994) highlights characteristics of mature postgraduate students, compared to young, full-time candidates; these include a willingness to challenge academic theories on the basis of their own ‘real world’ experience, heavy time commitments outside their study and confidence in their own professional abilities coupled with concern about meeting academic standards. Supervision in the professional doctorate The experience perspectives drawn upon here are my own supervisory experience of three completed PhD theses (and three masters by research) in Business on the one hand, and on the other experience as DBA program director and supervisor of six successfully completed candidates. It reports on the experience of one supervisor in one university. This is obviously a limited sample and not a suitable basis for drawing widely applicable inferences, but the examples and experiences are considered as a start to discussion of what is becoming a growing area of interest for academics in Australia. Despite this limited experience, the small sample and the early stage in the development of specifically DBA supervision models and techniques, there are some interesting points of difference emerging that are worth commenting on and considering for further monitoring. To wait for more data from larger samples and a wider spread of supervisory experiences is to allow, by default, some important decisions to be made on inadequate grounds through neglecting the differences in doctoral supervision. Ryan (1994) recommends using contracts and checklists to govern the supervisor–student relationship from the start and help eliminate misunderstandings and performance failures. Iphofen (2001) writes of 12 points that he see as being necessary to clarify explicitly (via a ‘personal contract’) with post-graduate students. These points include: • ‘The PhD is yours…you must make the final decisions.’ • ‘I cannot be your counsellor, mentor, therapist, friend and boss.’ • ‘You do not need my home telephone or mobile number.’ • ‘Drafts of your work must be submitted in good time, and cannot necessarily be marked immediately—there are other job pressures on me.’ • ‘A first name basis does not mean we are close friends.’ • ‘You should know that if I won the lottery tomorrow, I would give up my job. You would then have to find a new supervisor.’

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Iphofen says that it is his experience that he needs to get these things straight with PhD students, up front. They seem sensible and sound to me (except, perhaps, the last one quoted above). But my experience is that they are none of them a problem with DBA candidates who, because of their work experience, professionalism and maturity, naturally work to such expectations and standards. For example, through their maturity and the complexity of their lives, DBA candidates understand my specialist role as a friendly supervisor but not friend, without any need to spell it out in a ‘contract’. They have plenty of friends and colleagues (and, importantly, fellow DBA students) to share their lives with and are accustomed to separably knowing and using people in the various aspects of life. Sharp and Howard (1996, p. 179) feel it necessary to point out to research students that their research may be of vital importance in the student’s life, but is rarely so important to the supervisor. DBA candidates are consciously balancing the place of their research in their own lives; the DBA is not the only thing they have to do, so they automatically appreciate that it is not the only thing their supervisor has to do. In a PhD, where the emphasis is on academic knowledge and experience, supervisors are usually well ahead of their students in the vital knowledge areas at the commencement of the study. This is only partly true for DBA supervisors. The very strong professional practice experience of DBA candidates usually means they have highly developed views on matters related to that experience. This experience and the developed views are usually related to their research area. So the DBA candidates can have much more relevant, practical knowledge than their senior (academic) supervisor. This means that the candidate’s maturity, practical judgement and knowledge need to be respected in the supervisory relationship. The senior supervisor of a PhD student is, generally, the main source of advice, comfort, contact, and so on that the student has. In the DBA program, the senior supervisor does not need to be the main source of all knowledge, inspiration and guidance. The great importance of planning the research as a project, from the beginning, is emphasised by both research methods texts aimed at students (e.g. Sharp and Howard 1996) and academic literature on the topic (e.g. Gottlieg 1994, p. 111 and the literature cited there). For a PhD thesis this planning needs to be done by the student and supervisor together, perhaps aided by a concurrent research methods course. In the RMIT DBA experience, the candidate does much of this planning in their research methods course before a supervisor is


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appointed (typically after six months part-time study, when the research proposal has been well developed). The coursework component of the DBA is structured to provide much of what the candidates need to do a good thesis. Methods of data collection and analysis are considered not just in a Research Methods course, which is similar to Research Methods courses undertaken by PhD candidates, but in other DBA courses also (e.g. in the RMIT DBA, in the Techniques of Strategic Analysis courses). Various intellectual frameworks are introduced and discussed in the DBA courses. Courses in the area of study (e.g. the Advanced Business Strategy courses) provide knowledge and inspiration relevant to the candidates’ research. The coursework also gives candidates training in reading and mastering academic literature—experience has shown that professional doctorate students have found academic literature difficult and off-putting and they need more training in how to read and use it than do most PhD students (as the latter come with some previous academic research experience, usually from honours or masters degrees). These features of the DBA mean that it is not necessary that the senior supervisor is an expert in the subject or topic of the research. This view is in accord with, but takes further, a characteristic of supervision in the social sciences and humanities (as compared with the natural and physical sciences) noted by Whittle (1992), that the student’s project is typically not related to the supervisor’s own research. The DBA supervisor is more required to be an expert in doing research and knowledgeable about doctoral standards. They should be informed and interested in the topic, and also open and flexible enough to follow the student when they lead into new (to the supervisor) areas of knowledge. For this approach to supervision to work successfully, it requires mature students capable of mastering a topic’s literature for themselves with general, rather than detailed and specific, guidance. Even the ongoing critique of the DBA candidate’s work comes not just from their supervisors. Candidates present plans and work-inprogress a number of times to their cohort colleagues, who are encouraged to give their views and reactions in response and to make helpful suggestions. Other academic staff, in the various courses and seminars, also provide useful critiques of parts or stages of the research task. A common example of such synergy between the course work and thesis components of the degree is an essay for a course done by a candidate with the intention that the essay also form part of the

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thesis. A specific example from my own experience is the candidate who wrote a review of the ideas of twelve leading authors in strategic management for the Advanced Business Strategy course. By concentrating in particular on their views with regard to his research topic in corporate governance, the candidate was able, with some editing, to substantially incorporate this essay into his thesis as an important part of the literature review. In this he utilised and benefited from feedback from the strategy course academic (who was not his supervisor). Other candidates have developed tools (such as a questionnaire) in the Techniques of Strategic Analysis course that were subsequently used in their thesis data collection, or conducted analyses of data in other parts of the same course that were pilot tests of the analysis to be done in the thesis. The course academic’s feedback comments then fed directly into strengthening their thesis, although that academic may not have been the candidate’s supervisor.

Two cases of supervision Two cases from my own supervisory experience are described below: one DBA and one PhD. The students have agreed to their stories being used. The cases have been chosen for three reasons: firstly, they are reasonably typical of their type of research degree; secondly, they readily illustrate some of the points of contrast made above; and thirdly, they are examples of supervision where documentation of supervisor comments was available for use (in my files), supplementing mere memory. The two cases are first presented as straightforwardly as feasible, with most critical analysis and reflection held over for the discussion that follows them. For each case, the degree is identified, followed by a lightly disguised title and an outline of the method used. The supervisor’s role (as I experienced it) is outlined, some examples of written feedback quoted and the roles of other staff or visitors who also assisted the candidate noted. Both theses were submitted in the year 2000 for external examination, and rated ‘passed with minor amendments’, which were duly made and the candidates graduated. Each candidate was an experienced business manager and (as it happens) in the IT industry. Both were over 30 years old and were part-time students in their doctoral programs. Both had demanding and responsible work positions. The PhD candidate had previously completed a Master of Business by research, under my supervision; the DBA candidate held an MBA degree but had no prior academic research background.


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Case 1: PhD The topic of the thesis was a cross-cultural comparison of managers’ business goals. There were two main stages to the data gathering and analysis: firstly, a survey of Australian managers, with the results reported and a comparison made with the results of the same survey conducted by researchers in other countries (using statistical analysis); followed, secondly, by the conduct of Delphi groups in three countries with the reporting focusing on cross-countries comparisons of the findings. A world authority in cross (national) cultures business research, Professor Gert Hofstede, happened to visit RMIT Business for a few months, at the invitation of another colleague. As supervisor I arranged to bring together Professor Hofstede and the student, and encouraged the student to meet and discuss his research (already commenced, but at an early stage) with Hofstede. This led to the student conducting the Australian end of a world-wide study co-ordinated by Professor Hofstede (which provided the data for one part of the thesis). I suggested other reading (for example, contrary views to Hofstede’s, that should be considered in the thesis), drawing on previous discussions with an academic colleague who had done research in this area. For the second part of the thesis, I drew on my knowledge of the Delphi technique. My teaching of forecasting includes discussion of the Delphi technique. The Delphi technique is readily adapted for a non-forecasting, nominal group purpose. I provided guidance in the use of Delphi and references and copies of papers on the technique. In both parts of the thesis I provided detailed comments and critiques of draft questionnaires and advised on the student’s statistical analysis. I suggested some restructuring to clarify the structure of the thesis, and assisted with overall style and presentation. Besides the role played by Professor Hofstede explained above, an adjunct professor of the School of Management was approached and drawn on for contacts to follow up to recruit respondents in one overseas country. Editing and enforcement of an appropriately academic style were an important task for me as supervisor, as exemplified by the following comments (quoted from written feedback provided to the student): Delphi [part] is fine, apart from a few details of referencing [noted and corrected on text]. It might be useful to get hold of the Aust. Govt. Publishing Service’s Style Guide and follow that—exactly, to the comma. This is a matter academics get very concerned about.

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You have a flowing writing style which seems to slip easily over the surface of an issue—even when you are going deeper—partly due to breaking discourse into small bites. Need to show more depth to examiners, without losing advantages of your style. Also, as this is a key part of thesis, and a likely stand alone paper, some more explanation of some points would improve it. It was also important to push the student into deeper thinking about their results, such as ‘Typology [part]—I’ve been harder this time, basically suggesting areas to expand on’ and a more rounded explanation of the research context, such as later comments on the Delphi section: …looks quite good, could relate a little to the […] industry. Even include a brief outline of what [it] is and how industry is structured in Australia. This would strengthen the thesis, and also let the working paper stand alone better. Case 2: DBA This research project was to do with developing a methodology for building effective websites. The thesis involved firstly devising a conceptual framework derived from literature and explored through experience with two pilot projects. This was followed by three cases of building large, complex internet sites, through which the methodology from the first part was iteratively developed, through building on learning from one case in subsequent cases, leading into documentation of the final methodology. The heart of this thesis is the three major cases described in detail, and the learning derived from them (this may be problematic for a traditional PhD, but is exactly right for a DBA). As supervisor, I started with minimal knowledge of website development, and none of the technical issues. I was able to facilitate the candidate doing one of the two pilot projects—which, at the time, was intended to be a major case part of the thesis, but it didn’t work out that way. The candidate came forward with the key, initial conceptual framework, derived from the literature without help from me (he had this before I was assigned as his supervisor). The supervisor’s role was then predominantly one of reading drafts of sections and providing comments and feedback, especially in respect of style, standards and the requirements of academic referencing.


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The roles of others were vital to the success of this project. DBA coursework seminars on topics in areas of organisation theory and strategy provided some ideas and literature relevant to the conceptual framework development. The DBA course on Research Methods was drawn on in the thesis introduction. The practical experience drawn on for the major cases was gained through projects carried out by the candidate in his job as a consultant at a large consulting firm. Ensuring an appropriate academic content was important in developing this thesis. For example, the candidate described the steps involved in the strategy development (planning) stage. A supervisory comment in response to the first reporting of this was: …it seems you are drawing on experience here in citing the outcomes of the steps. If so, include a statement early in chapter to that effect; if not, give ref[erence]s. I.e. make clear on what evidence the statements (e.g. on how Storyboard is developed and what it achieves) are made… and later: You are describing what is done, in this chapter. But is done by whom? Is it your recommended approach, or [your employer’s], or what was done at the four sites? Need to clarify for the reader. Editorialising and imposing an appropriate style of writing were important in this case also. An example of a style comment, of the type commonly necessary to move the candidate away from the consultant’s dot point mode, was: I’d suggest dropping the fourth level sub-headings e.g. go to 4.1.1 User requirements, but not to 4.1.1.1 User testing [there was often only a paragraph or two under such fourth level subheadings]. This is not dissimilar in intention to a comment quoted above in Case 1, but the writing in this case was even more extreme in its pointed, rather than discursive, style. It was also necessary to advise the candidate on the need to tie the parts of the thesis together, make it flow logically and also make the candidate’s case clear to the examiners. For example:

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Is it made clear in Intro and Chapter 1 that you developed the concepts, then helped apply them to development of the four sites, then drew the learnings from the process together in the ‘Methodology’ and ‘Conclusions’ chapters? You need to make this very clear to the examiners, early. Not always clear how the cases illustrate the concepts of Chapter 4. E.g. the four communities. The cases focus on how the sites were developed—fine—but this seems rather divorced from Ch.4. You should make clear in each case how the ideas of the lit. review and Ch.4 informed the developments. The ‘lessons learnt’ section in each case is a good idea.

Discussion and reflection The PhD supervision involved more efforts by the supervisor to introduce the candidate to the ‘community of scholars’, and to provide guidance to the specific, relevant, academic literature on both topic and method. The topic and analysis were linked more closely to the supervisor’s expertise. The DBA supervision, by contrast, took seriously the ‘professional’ aspect of the professional doctorate, but relied heavily (not exclusively) on the candidate for this context and emphasis. The supervisor’s advice on format and structure was more important. Both candidates in the cases (and most, in my experience) needed a lot of work and help with style concerns. These are typically matters such as the need to properly reference everything and to use a more academic, less business-like, style. This last example is a common difficulty with mature research students, who tend (naturally) to write in a style they are used to using, in the style of lecture notes, or as if the thesis were a textbook, or like a client report or even a technical report, depending on their background. The necessity for such editing may be fairly common across many disciplines in traditional PhD theses (Parry and Hayden 1994, pp. 66–8, 73–4). It was an issue for the candidates in the cases, who both had long experience in business, but especially for the DBA candidate, who worked as a consultant and tended to use a dot points structure in much of his writing. Both tended also to break the writing down into very small sections. I have found that it is necessary to break many DBA candidates out of a habit of stating their expert views as facts to be accepted. As senior consultants, they are used to presenting their views in this sort of way to clients—it is what the client is paying for. The supervisor has to keep asking for the reference or supporting facts and evidence to be cited in the thesis.


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Differences between professional doctorate and PhD students, and hence in the appropriate supervision, may be partly ascribed to their differences in age and work experience. I have found many DBA candidates to be instrumentally orientated; Ryan (1994) hypothesises that this is to be expected from more mature doctoral candidates generally. Some of the characteristics of DBA research noted may be considered a reflection of the nature of the field of research, rather than professional doctorates as such. Students doing PhD research in applied professions such as management and business tend to be established and knowledgeable in the area of their professional practice, but much less strong in the more academic skills of conceptualisation of phenomena and data collection and analysis (Parry and Hayden 1994, p. 120). In this they are like DBA candidates. Parry and Hayden (1994, p. 120) make a further observation on PhD students in these areas of study that could be aptly applied to DBA candidates also, that they ‘were inclined to see a thesis as an opportunity to “prove a point” or to vindicate a preferred professional practice’. Both the coursework and supervision in the DBA have to, at times, be used to temper some students’ tendency to be too extreme in this direction. The DBA experience, too, has been that: a critical aspect of induction, therefore, was to ensure that students acquired an appropriate foundation of knowledge in a particular discipline or methodology, and that they were equipped with the necessary analytical skills to be able to examine professional practice (Parry and Hayden 1994, p. 120). Such issues are thus raised by both professional doctorates and PhD research in professional practice areas, but the means by which they are addressed, and their success, are not necessarily the same. My experience then, in both PhD and DBA supervision, leads me to agree with the supervisor ‘Dr Rennie’, quoted in Delamont et al. (1998 p. 160), who said: The main thing, in my point of view, is to know what the job is, to manage the student. To be a good supervisor I don’t happen to believe you need to know an awful lot about the substantive field the student is doing. A good student will already have become more expert in the substantive field than the supervisor. There may be problems if there’s too much overlap, when the student feels he hasn’t broken away from the knowledge area of the supervisor.

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So, in terms of the ‘delicate balance’ between dominating and neglecting a student’s research (Delamont et al. 1998), I’d lean towards the ‘neglecting’ error with mature DBA students. This ‘delicate balance’ of Delamont et al. (1998) is not so central to DBA supervision (at least as experienced at RMIT) as they find it is to PhD supervision. However, there are other delicate balances to manage. I find it useful to remember that there is development of the doctoral student–supervisor relationship over time, from the student at the beginning as subordinate and the supervisor defining and directing, through growing intellectual autonomy to independence (Delamont et al. 1998, pp. 161–2). This is experienced in all good doctoral research supervision. I have discussed this formally in seminars with DBA students, in terms of the program’s expectation of movement from subordinate student at first to acknowledged expert and colleague at the end, qualified (academically) to be a supervisor themselves. With DBA students, in particular, the subordination stage is only a partial, confined subordination as there are many areas relevant to the research where the student is in no way subordinate to the supervisor. A mutual respect is necessary, therefore, for a fruitful student–supervisor relationship to develop. Above all, the supervisor has their superior experience and expertise in the (sometimes arcane seeming) processes of academic research to bring to the relationship. This needs to be deployed for the student’s benefit, as without it they will flounder and be unable to complete satisfactorily. Indeed, some DBA candidates have rejected, or been unable to grasp, the academic process and style, and have left the program.

Conclusions Supervision of professional doctorate candidates can be a very different process and experience to the supervision of PhD candidates, for both student and supervisor. This difference, which it has been argued is necessary, is driven by differences in both the candidates and the programs. Professional doctorate candidates are mature, high achieving professionals, but with little academic research experience. PhD candidates tend to be younger and less experienced, but have shown significant research potential. The DBA candidates enter with very different capabilities and knowledge bases to those of many PhD candidates. The professional doctorate process includes a structured coursework component that provides access to advanced, specialist knowledge relevant to the research. There is also a cohort of similar


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candidates, proceeding in step through process issues that can be considered in seminars with the group, rather than addressed individually. Differences in the candidates’ background and preparation, the processes and structures of PhD and DBA programs, suggest that the supervision needs to be different as a consequence. It is my experience that it does, and is. Such differences have serious implications for how supervision is encouraged and developed in universities. Universities are putting in place processes to raise the efficiency and quality of research training. However, these steps are usually taken with PhD degree research in mind—that is, based on the assumption of research training in the context of the PhD. If supervision of DBA research is different, then the DBA supervision has different efficiency and quality issues. Processes of supervisor training and registration, for example, based on PhD supervision models can be ill-adapted for DBA supervisors’ needs. Efforts to improve PhD research training may be counter-productive and/or needlessly burdensome (not efficient) in the DBA context.

References: Benaquisto, L. 2000, ‘Graduate supervision: Learning from experience’, McGill Journal of Education, vol. 35, no. 1, pp. 69–82. Bruner, J.S. 1960, The Process of Education, Harvard University Press, Cambridge Mass. (2nd edition 1977). Delamont, S., Parry, O. and Atkinson, P. 1998, ‘Creating a delicate balance in the doctoral supervisor’s dilemmas’, Teaching in Higher Education, vol. 3, pp. 157–72. Enicolo, P. and Pope, M. 1994, ‘The postgraduate’s journey – An interplay of roles’, in Quality in Postgraduate Education, eds O. ZuberSkerritt and Y. Ryan, Kogan Page, London, pp. 120–33. Gottlieb, N. 1994, ‘Supervising the writing of a thesis’, in Quality in Postgraduate Education, eds O. Zuber-Skerritt and Y. Ryan, Kogan Page, London, pp. 110–19. Iphofen, R. 2001, ‘Subject to contract’, The Times Higher Education Supplement, 9 November 2001. Maxwell, T.W., Shanahan, P. and Green, B. 2001, ‘Introduction: New opportunities in doctoral education and professional practice’, in Doctoral Education and Professional Practice: The Next Generation?, eds B. Green, T.W. Maxwell and P. Shanahan, Kardoorair Press, Armidale, pp. 1–13. Maxwell, T.W. and Shanahan, P. 2001, ‘Professional doctoral education in Australia and New Zealand: Reviewing the scene’, in

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Doctoral Education and Professional Practice: The Next Generation?, eds B. Green, T.W. Maxwell and P. Shanahan, Kardoorair Press, Armidale, pp. 17–38. Morley, C.L. 1999a, ‘A professional doctorate in business: The new height of management education’, in Enterprise Management, eds S. Neelamegham, D. Midgley, and C. Sen, Tata McGraw-Hill Publishing Company, New Delhi, pp. 544–54. Morley, C.L. 1999b, ‘How professional? The role of the university in professional doctorates’, RMIT Business Working Paper 99/4. Morley, C.L. and Priest, J. 2001, ‘Developing a professional doctorate in business administration: Reflection and the “executive scholar”’, in Doctoral Education and Professional Practice: The Next Generation?, eds B. Green, T.W. Maxwell and P. Shanahan, Kardoorair Press, Armidale, pp. 163–86. Moses, I. 1992, ‘Research training in Australian universities: Undergraduate and graduate studies’, in Starting Research: Supervision and Training, ed. O. Zuber-Skerritt, Tertiary Education Institute, University of Queensland, Brisbane, pp. 3–24. Parry, S. and Hayden, M. 1994, Supervising Higher Degree Research Students: An Investigation of Practices Across a Range of Academic Departments, Australian Government Publishing Service, Canberra. Ryan, Y. 1994, ‘Contracts and checklists: Practical propositions for postgraduate supervision’, in Quality in Postgraduate Education, eds O. Zuber-Skerritt and Y. Ryan, Kogan Page, London, pp. 156–64. Sharp, J.A. and Howard, K. 1996, The Management of a Student Research Project, 2nd edition, Gower, Aldershot, UK. Whittle, J. 1992, ‘Research culture, supervision practices and postgraduate performance’, in Starting Research: Supervision and Training, ed. O. Zuber-Skerritt, Tertiary Education Institute, University of Queensland, Brisbane, pp. 86–107.

CHAPTER 8

Supervision in the knowledge economy Jacqueline Rowarth and Pam Green Introduction Investment in education increases earning potential for the individual. In the United Kingdom it has been calculated that a degree is worth more than A$1 million over a lifetime’s work and income. However, the calculations are based on people currently 60 years old (or older) who were likely to have gone through university when only 7 percent of the population participated in tertiary education. Now that enrolment rates are nearer 30 percent in many countries, an undergraduate degree alone is unlikely to result in the same economic advantages. Recent media reports (Schmidt 2004) suggest that a Bachelor of Arts degree (BA) now will qualify a student to do the same type of job that would have been done in the 1970s by people with no school qualification. This increase in demand for qualifications by employers has been quantified in the United States: employment advisors predict a 23 percent increase in jobs requiring a doctoral qualification, 22 percent increase in masterates, 21 percent in bachelors degrees, and 35 percent increase in jobs requiring an associate degree (two year diploma). There is also a positive relationship between economic development and research capability within a workforce. Porter and Stern (2001) have shown a direct relationship (R2 = 0.80%) between the ability to turn innovation into wealth and the number of scientists and engineers in the workforce. It would follow that an increase in the research capacity of the country results in economic development— and the same should be true for the individual. For those in the workforce the professional doctorate can appear to be the ideal way to fulfil the double goal of education and research literacy. However, analysis of completion rates suggests that the very type of candidate attracted to a professional doctorate is that most at risk of non-completion of the degree. A study by Martin, Maclachlan 123

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and Karmel (2001) revealed that eight years after starting, only 53 percent of doctoral candidates have completed the degree in which they first enrolled; projections indicate that only 65 percent of students will ever complete. Part time and mature candidates are less likely to complete than young, full-time candidates moving into higher degrees from an honours undergraduate degree. The traditional PhD is fraught with concerns about the emotional journey of being engaged in doctoral work, and in becoming ‘the other’ (Lee and Williams 1999). Research on the delicate balance between supervisor and candidate (Delamont, Parry and Atkinson 1998), and the impact of the supervisor’s own doctoral experience particularly with reference to supervisory practice (Lee and Williams 1999) has highlighted the complexities surrounding doctoral journeys and supervision. When we take into account the changing context within which higher education operates, the space for supervision is seen to be under threat (Green 2003; Green and Usher 2003). This context for doctoral work appears far more complex when the workplace is included. Yet the Knowledge Economy demands that we structure and manage a new paradigm that has been answered in part by the proliferation of professional doctorate programs. As funding is now being given in many countries on the basis of completion within a designated time frame, it behoves the academy to develop ways of assisting the new type of candidate to successful completion. Our challenge is to maximise enrolments, minimise attrition, and maximise progression without foregoing rigour (McWilliam and Taylor 2000). This chapter considers implications for management of candidates and training of research supervisors.

Internal pressures and expanding options Professional doctorates in Australasia emerged formally in the late 1980s and early 1990s in response to internal and external pressures. The traditional PhD was considered by some to be too narrow—limited to specific disciplines and research practices, as well as being lengthy, and unmanageable/unpredictable. Furthermore, PhDs were not considered to be sufficiently flexible to cope with the shifting demands within any area of work, academe or industry. Hence PhDs were not viewed as being a suitable vehicle for up-skilling for those in the workforce and intending to remain there. Other drivers were governmental policy and market forces. Given that most doctoral candidates do not move to jobs within academe, but rather move within (or

Super vision in the knowledge economy

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to) employment sectors beyond higher education, the professional doctorate is seen as an appropriate mode of doctoral training as it encourages and extends connections between the university and the workplace. If people are to be equipped to cope with the requirements of this century, where rapid change is the only predictable factor, arguably a range of doctoral training options is appropriate. The move to expand sites of knowledge production away from traditional sites located within the disciplines and academic contexts has been set in theory by Gibbons, Limoges, Nowotny, Schwartzmann, Scott and Trow (1994). Lee, Green and Brennan (2000) argue that there is growing recognition of the utility of the shift to expanded sites of knowledge production and that this has challenged the monopoly of the PhD with respect to the formation and credentialing of knowledge workers. This shift is reflected in the development of a range of options within the PhD itself—such as PhD by publication, project or performance, as well as in the professional doctorate development. The demand for the increasing range of options also came from employers (Sekhon 1989), and from federal government policy (Reid 1998). In 1990, the Higher Education Council in Australia recommended the introduction of professional doctorate programs in fields such as education, nursing and accounting. In the same year, the first professional doctorates in education (EdDs) were introduced (Brennan 1998). Such policy drivers forced academics to reconsider what counts as research practice and knowledge production in applied knowledge sites within the workplace and the professions. Although external forces certainly played a part in the development of professional doctorates, initial drivers came from academia recognising the need to attract candidates from non-traditional segments of the market, and to provide articulated pathways for masters candidates nearing completion. As Reid (1998) notes, ‘the professional doctorate has become a viable and attractive alternative for many Higher Degree Research candidates unwilling to commit themselves to the singularity of research and scholarship purpose implied by enrolment in a PhD’. Professional doctorates were seen to be appropriate for the needs of experienced professionals seeking flexibility and application, as well as the status derived from credentialed knowledge. Thus, the intersection of the academy, professions and industry created new market opportunities and fresh options for all parties.

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Professional doctorate candidates Professional doctorate candidates are a particular type of knowledge worker with a certain range of attributes and thus specific needs. They tend to be older, professionally experienced (entrance requirements usually include several years in the workforce at a specified level), and not necessarily aiming for academic work (Brennan 1998). Candidates tend to engage in workplace related research, often over an extended period of time. They are almost invariably juggling a complex array of commitments including family, study, travel and care of ageing parents. Often such candidates are drawn to the program as a vehicle for close examination of their work practices, as well as for expanded career options and increased remuneration. While they aim to satisfy the demands of the university for a significant contribution to knowledge, they are under pressure to conform to the demands on research practices located in the workplace. Clearly they are under various pressures, some of which are conflicting. The supervisors, who may be more familiar with the traditional model of supervision, must be aware of all of the extra factors imposed in supervising a professional doctorate.

Font or driver? Academics often have a very clear idea about the differences between PhDs and professional doctorates, and can articulate them in theory. In practice, however, it can be difficult to distinguish between a PhD thesis and that submitted for a professional doctorate. Although in some academic systems (e.g. USA) there is general understanding that the research for a professional doctorate is not the same as that for a PhD, in New Zealand, for example, all doctoral education must be assessed as level 10 (where masterate education is level 8 coursework and level 9 research). The phrase ‘significant and original contribution to knowledge’ is common to guidelines for examiners of both types of thesis; for the professional doctorate, the phrase continues ‘of fact, theory or the epistemology of practice’. In Australia the status of PhDs and professional doctorates depends to a certain extent on discipline area. Although both are arguably equivalent and both are viewed as legitimate, they are certainly different doctoral options. Fitness of purpose should be considered when ‘judging’ equivalence.


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Overview of the main distinctions between a traditional PhD and a professional doctorate Note that the following table attempts to map the main distinctions but must be seen as a generic overview rather than an exact mapping. PhD

Professional doctorate

Single program: thesis 100% research

Coursework component or portfolio and thesis Various breakdowns of research/ other components

Traditionally full time; trend towards part time in some disciplines

Normally part time

Located strictly in the academy Not necessarily related to practice May be totally theoretical or academic (pure research) Single discipline base or multidisciplinary Skills for an academic career Mode 1 knowledge

Workplace based connection Intersecting the academy, the professions and industry Emphasis on professional practice Applied notion of knowledge production Transdisciplinary Transferable skills Mode 2 knowledge

Individual intake (though may vary in Science)

Intakes of candidates tend to be cohort based

Pathways for research are largely set

Emphasis on flexibility

The generic aim of both experiences (also termed an heroic journey) is to produce both a significant contribution to knowledge and a graduate with the capacity for systematic and independent research (Pearson 2002). In order to do this, some of the experiences and achievements must be the same in both types of degree. Professional doctorates usually start with coursework and so are relatively defined in terms of starting date and management. The regular classes, assignments, due dates and contacts with others arguably make the degree more manageable for those in the workforce. Given the completion rates mentioned earlier, the more management provided by the institution to assist the candidate on the path to completion, the better. Note, however, that the downside of this management, which can become prescription, could be a reduction in creativity, which requires both time and freedom, and is certainly a reduction in personal responsibility on the part of the candidate.

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Independent research can be difficult to achieve in a prescribed environment and the delicate balance between domination and neglect (Green 2003) is becoming more difficult to find. In both types of degree the role of the supervisor is in helping candidates reach their potential, not just trying to ensure that a ‘pass’ is achieved. Seven responsibilities for the supervisor have been identified (Rowarth and Cornforth 2004): 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7.

knowing what the journey will require; knowing where the journey is heading; knowing when and how to assist; maintaining flexibility; knowing how to effect completion; building the canoe; launching the canoe.

Responsibilities six and seven differ in PhDs and professional doctorates, because of the nature of the candidate. (The professional doctorate candidate has already been in the workforce, and has already created a career of some sort—having done so is a requirement for entrance into most professional doctorate courses. Hence a canoe has been built and launched; the professional doctorate is part of the ‘refitting’ of the canoe.) In contrast, the first five responsibilities are similar but achieved in different ways: whereas in the PhD the supervisor is a font of knowledge and experience, in the professional doctorate the supervisor could be described as the leader of the wagon train. As the font of knowledge, the supervisor works with the candidate on a one-to-one basis, providing and guiding. Although the candidate rather than the supervisor will be the expert in the area under investigation at the end of the experience, the supervisor has the required experience of the methodology, the general area of the research, and the knowledge of the process through which the candidate must proceed. Similarly, the leader of the wagon train must know the trail and its potential hazards because, although the candidates will be driving their own wagons, the wagons will be following the leader. The leader must be able to assist the candidates through experience, contacts and instinct (Oswald 2003). The cohort of candidates will follow the train, and supervisors act as scouts for the candidates’ wagons, also riding shotgun. As the nature of academia changes, however, even in traditional degrees, different types of supervisor are emerging. In the ‘font’


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approach, the emergence of different disciplines and different methodological approaches, plus the increased emphasis on ‘interdisciplinary research’, means that all the expertise required may not reside in one person. Supervisors appointed to provide methodological expertise are now common, with the discipline-based expertise residing in another person. Yet another type of supervisor, increasingly common where a cohort of students is involved, as in the professional doctorate, is the ‘administrative supervisor’. The role of this supervisor is to remember the due dates and requirements of the group, rather than provide any discipline-related input. At the beginning of candidature, the prime role of the administrative supervisor is to ensure that the candidate is engaged in the academic process. Experience suggests that the most important component in successful supervision is mutual respect and confidence in the ability of the other partner in the candidate–supervisor relationship. For candidates coming into the professional doctorate from the workforce, most of whom have not had the recent experience of working with a supervisor, the administrative supervisor gives a point of academic contact while the candidate identifies their potential principal supervisor. The most common difficulties identified in doing a research degree have been described (Lillis 2000) as: • interpersonal difficulties; • supervisor absences; • failure of the supervisor to assist in the development of the proposal; • failure to hold regular meetings with the candidate; • delays or omissions in the provision of software or equipment; and • delays or omissions in the provision of feedback on thesis drafts. Some of these difficulties are overcome with the cohort approach common in a professional doctorate, and the fact that both parties are mature adults who have set the guidelines in advance. Knowing the most common problems that candidates face along the doctoral journey can assist in developing strategies to avoid or overcome such challenges. In the debate on the relative merits of the different types of degree, the factor of the cohort should be considered. The traditional and relatively lonely experience that many PhD candidates undergo is

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not the model for the professional doctorate. Although some candidates at a distance say they had little input from their wagon train leader or scouts, the very fact that they are in a work environment means that they are not isolated. The wagon train approach may have major benefits in the future as networking and cooperation increase in importance. With the current emphasis on economic development, all socially developed countries are encouraging the workforce to ‘upskill’, on the principle that an educated workforce is the fundamental requirement for a globally competitive country. It is likely that professional doctorates will become increasingly popular in the future because of their workplace relevance. The concept that the professional doctorate educates those ‘in work for work through work’ is attractive, but there is some debate about the type of experience in the different degrees. Informal discussions with mature professional doctorate candidates suggest that many of them believe that they consolidate knowledge rather than learn new knowledge. If this is the case, there must be funding and policy implications. It also has implications for the value of the doctorate, as all doctorates must contribute something unique or significant. Such a contribution must involve learning: the development of new ideas/theories/practices. If this is not the case, there is much to be concerned about. However, it may well be that the debate is more about differences in perception during the doctorate (students wondering as they proceed, supervisors pushing them to find and make that unique contribution), or perhaps a matter of semantics. This is an area of research that should be explored, as others believe that learning is a paramount factor in professional doctorates. Arguments could be made for both increasing and decreasing funding and time. If professional doctorate candidates are: • consolidating knowledge, then funding and time can be reduced—but would what they then achieve be a doctorate?; • in the workforce, then funding must be increased as compensation for the opportunity cost of up-skilling; alternatively, it could be decreased because the candidate is on salary. The market will be the main influence in this, and is likely to vary according to discipline; • part time, then increased time for completion must be allowed because of work and family commitments. However, lengthy studies lose currency, in terms of both research and relevance to the candidate and their goals.


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Perhaps the most vexed question is that of entry qualifications. In order to ensure the same exit quality and hence parity of esteem for the two qualifications, the same entrance criteria are commonly used. In Australia and New Zealand, entry into PhD programs is usually honours (level 1) or a masters degree including a significant research component. Entry to professional doctorates is largely the same, though some degrees specify a minimum number of years (often five) of relevant work experience. What is certainly true in most cases for professional doctorates is that if the candidate is not in academia, he or she will need considerable assistance with ‘getting up to speed’. Add to this the other concerns, and clearly the candidate will require more input from the supervisor; hence the models for supervision, although they will have some similarities, will also be different, although the differences may be more in quantity than in quality. What is always true is that supervisors will need to know their students as individuals. There will be differences in ‘student type’ as well as in skills and experiences that are brought into the program and the relationship. Time is needed to know the student, and to know their strengths, challenges, needs and so on.

Tests of hazard The professional doctorate intersects the academy, the profession and the workplace (Lee, Green and Brennan 1999). Consequently candidates, and supervisors, need to be skilled in the language and attributes of all three places, and the professional doctorate program should be supported in such a way as to enable candidates and supervisors to move from one context to another—not doing so jeopardises the likelihood of the professional doctorate being viewed as a positional good. Clearly the professional doctorate program must support candidates in deriving a credential that is seen to have status and credibility within both academia and the labour market. Furthermore, the credential must be gained within a prescribed time frame, which means that the candidate must get started quickly, cope and complete. Timely successful completion is the element of the Australian Research Training Scheme (RTS) (implemented in September 2000) that impacts most on the work of supervisors with candidates. The introduction of the Performance Based Research Fund in New Zealand in 2004 is likely to create similar impacts. Although the professional doctorate program is well-positioned with a well-structured coursework plan, regular progress reviews and presentations, delays

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still occur due to life imperatives intervening. Consequently candidates move in and out of focused study. Although there are periods of intense research, there are also periods when nothing seems to occur, and reflection is almost certainly absent. Systems for enabling focused, sustained effort must still be developed; the supervisor has to be aware of the hazards the candidate is experiencing, and be able to suggest ways of clearing them. Another hazard occurs where there is a transition from coursework to sole concentration on research, which can occur at various stages (e.g. one third of the way through the degree as in New Zealand, or up to two-thirds of the way in some programs in Australia). (Note that some programs in Australia have addressed this hazard by making the coursework and the thesis work parallel for the most part.) The shift is associated with an increase in independent work, with reduced contact with the rest of the candidates in the wagon train. The change in networks and structures, and an increased reliance on supervisors rather than on a team of academics, while welcomed by some who feel ready to escape the constraints of coursework (regular meetings, deadlines, classes, thesis groups), tends to put unforeseen strain on many. The shift requires greater self-motivation and confidence than in the earlier stages. Although research results from studies in Britain suggest that research students feel more included in the department than do those in coursework (Humphrey and McCarthy 1999), for the professional doctorate candidate the reverse is true, reflecting their full-time work commitments. Requirements for attendance at events can be difficult, and effective supervision and monitoring of progress is crucial if timely successful completion is to occur. Supervisors need to be aware of the stresses of this period, and watchful for signs of ‘lapses’ in focus. Closer scrutiny of supervisory practice as well as candidate progress is now a fact of life in both Australia and New Zealand, since funding depends upon completions. ‘At risk’ procedures are now in place which means that a harder line is being taken with candidates who fail to show adequate progress. Close monitoring of progress and completion rates will lead to an increased understanding of the needs of both supervisors and candidates (Leder 1998); once needs are known, we should be in a better position to help candidates cope and complete.

Achieving completion Program management is key to assisting a candidate enrolled in a doctoral degree (or any degree), to achieve successful completion, but


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is also foreign to many academics who have been through the more traditional ‘hands off’ supervision approach. Goal setting should be followed by the explication of tasks. Assisting the candidate to break down goals into tasks allows achievements to occur at regular intervals. This is important for motivation—the candidate must feel that progress is being made. Detailed timelines—even down to a day by day level—can also help to focus the candidate and provide a way to monitor progress towards completion. This kind of planning goes well beyond the normal type of Gant chart planning that Higher Degree committees often want, but should not become an end in itself. Shadowing can be useful for all candidates and involves heavy duty tracking of progress. Supervisors and postgraduate coordinators have a prime role in shadowing candidates in order to track development along the research journeys. Such tracking can occur in various ways, such as: • • • • • •

weekly updates by email; regular face to face meetings with supervisors; review panels in accordance with the faculty procedures; postgraduate conference presentations; conference presentations; and/or faculty seminar presentations.

For the professional doctorate candidate, short term completion scholarships can be used to fund part-time candidates for time out from work to achieve major steps in the research journey. Crucial tasks that are best done in a block of time, such as data collection and/or writing up, can be well supported by institutional scholarships. Failing this, some candidates have long service leave owing and put the time to good use for completion of their thesis. Giving candidates a space in which to work can be important in helping focus. Most full-time candidates are lucky enough to be catered for in this way; part-time candidates are not, but it may be possible for the supervisor to make the case that resourcing the professional doctoral candidate will be beneficial in terms of completions. Having a work space away from home can be important in treating research seriously and as a ‘job’ in which office hours (at the very least) are maintained, and where weekends can easily be spent free of well meaning but distracting family and friends. The candidate should be assisted to create a work routine that suits commitments.

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The establishment of writing groups can assist those candidates who need the additional support and pressure to complete, as well as feedback from a group of colleagues. Regular meetings in which ways of working are agreed upon from the outset can generate much commitment to, and motivation for, writing. Decide on how drafts are to be shared, the kind of feedback that will be provided, issues of honesty, trust and commitment (to sharing, to constructive critique), as well as how turns will be taken to produce some writing to the group. Some faculties bring in writing experts to run such groups. Alternatively, specific workshops based on expressed need are useful. Supportive networks are vital for all candidates, irrespective of the nature of the degree, and whether part-time or full-time. Candidates should be encouraged to meet others when they can—in the staff room, the postgraduate room, the seminar series, the late night lectures, and the structured programs (induction, targeted workshops, library sessions, research methods and so on). Research environments will motivate, support and help in the completion process; part-time candidates need more encouragement to become involved than do traditional students, so it is important to ensure that a proportion of networking events are held after work. Such networks are useful in terms of keeping in touch with others (avoiding isolation), and gaining support, but also in having opportunities to celebrate successes. Celebration is important for candidates to acknowledge the passing of a milestone. Candidates should be encouraged to celebrate achievements with others, but not to then rest on their laurels and lose momentum. Supervisors and wider networks can support successes but also set up the next challenge so that the journey remains focused and on track. Many completion strategies are appropriate for supervisors in all types of degrees to adopt. It may be that the biggest difference in supervision is the quantity of input required for those in professional doctorates to enable them to fulfil the requirements of the intersection of the academy, the profession and the workplace (Lee, Green and Brennan 1999). Even if this difference is not so, it is clear that supervision of doctorates, regardless of degree framework, demands much focus and diligence on the part of the supervisor, but also steady progress from the candidate. Without a strong work ethic and time to enable the work to occur (on the part of both supervisor and candidate), the doctoral journey may well be hazardous.


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Expectations and reality Increased supervision might be required in professional doctorates because students expect more assistance—they know that they have been out of research (or may never have been in it) and are in fulltime work, so the university will provide support mechanisms. It is clear, however, that traditional PhD students are increasingly expecting similar support, and for the supervisor the main difference between the two types of students may be simply in the frequency of meetings reflecting full-time versus part-time rather than professional doctorate or PhD per se. Despite attempts to sketch some of the main distinctions, in the process the reality is that the differences are nebulous. For the supervisor, research training and support must include: • • • • • •

program management; reconsideration of research; communication that counts; strategies such as writing groups; short-term scholarship programs; and supervisor professional development initiatives.

It is also clear that further research into professional doctorates (e.g. theorisation/practice based implications) is required.

Conclusions The imperatives for research supervisors are similar, regardless of the form of doctorate being supervised, but the relationships to manage are different in the PhD and professional doctorate. The latter is likely to involve industry partners, the students’ workplace, family and so on, thereby adding extra dimensions. A further dimension is added by the professional doctorate coordinators and other advisors on the program, particularly those associated with coursework. Arguably professional doctorates are viewed as a necessary form of doctoral training, making a significant contribution to the knowledge economy. It therefore behoves all tertiary education institutions to make an effort to accommodate the training within the ranks of academe—which means finding ways of assisting non-traditional candidates to complete successfully without lowering the standards of achievement or ‘significant contribution to knowledge’.

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References Brennan, M. 1998, ‘Education doctorates: Reconstructing professional partnerships around research’, in Postgraduate Studies/Postgraduate Pedagogy, eds A. Lee and B. Green, Centre for Language and Literacy and the University Graduate School, UTS, Sydney. Delamont, S., Parry, O. and Atkinson, P. 1998, ‘Creating a delicate balance: The doctoral supervisor’s dilemmas’, Teaching in Higher Education vol. 3, no. 2, pp. 157–72. Gibbons, M., Limoges, C., Nowotny, H., Schwartzmann, S., Scott, P. and Trow, M. 1994, The New Production of Knowledge: The Dynamics of Science and Research in Contemporary Societies, Sage, London. Green, P. 2003, ‘Diminishing spaces: The supervision of research degree students in Australian universities’, in Spatiality, Curriculum and Learning, eds R. Edwards and R. Usher, Greenwood, Westport CT. Green, P. and Usher, R. 2003, ‘Fast supervision: Changing supervisory practice in changing times’, Studies in Continuing Education vol. 25, no. 1, pp. 37–50. Humphrey, R., and McCarthy, P. 1999, ‘Recognition of differences: Providing for postgraduate students’, Studies in Higher Education vol. 24, pp. 371–87. Leder, G. 1998, ‘Higher degree supervision: A question of balance’, in Postgraduate Studies/Postgraduate Pedagogy, eds A. Lee and B. Green, Centre for Language and Literacy and the University Graduate School, UTS, Sydney. Lee, A. and Williams, C. 1999, ‘Forged in fire: Narratives of trauma in PhD supervision’, Southern Review vol. 31, no. 1, pp. 6–26. Lee, A., Green, B. and Brennan, M. 2000, ‘Organisational knowledge, professional practice and the professional doctorate at work’, in Research and Knowledge at Work: Perspectives, Case-studies and Innovative Strategies, eds J. Garrick. and C. Rhodes, Routledge, London. Lillis, D. 2000, ‘Doctoral supervision: Thoughts and observations’, New Zealand Science Review, vol. 57, pp. 52–6. Martin, Y.M., Maclachlan, M. and Karmel, T. 2001, Postgraduate Completion Rates, Occasional Paper Series 2001D, Higher Education Division, Department of Education, Training and Youth Affairs. McWilliam, E. and Taylor, P. 2000, ‘Reconciling rapidity and rigour: Strategies and structures for the next generation of professional doctorates’, paper presented at the Third International


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Professional Doctorates Conference, Armidale, Australia, 10–13 September. Pearson, M. 2002, ‘Research training and supervision development’, Studies in Higher Education, vol. 27, pp. 135–50. Porter, M.E. and Stern S. 2001, ‘National innovative capacity’, in Global Competitiveness Report 2001, World Economic Forum and Harvard Business School, pp. 102–15. Oswald, A. 2003, ‘Universities and academic leadership’, The Independent, 28 June. Reid, J. 1998, ‘The professional doctorate: A professional practice?’ in Postgraduate Studies/Postgraduate Pedagogy, eds A. Lee and B. Green, Centre for Language and Literacy and the University Graduate School, UTS, Sydney. Rowarth, J.S. and Cornforth, I.S. (in press), ‘A fluid model for supervision’, in Supervising Postgraduate Research: Contexts and Processes Theories and Practices, ed. P. Green, RMIT Press, Melbourne. Sekhon, J.G. 1989, ‘PhD education and Australia’s industrial future: Time to think again’, Higher Education Research and Development, vol. 8, pp. 191–215. Schmidt, V. 2004, ‘The quarterlife crisis’, Canvas, 10–11 April, pp. 12–15.

Section 3 RESEARCH SUPERVISION MANAGEMENT AND MODELS

CHAPTER 9

Cluster supervision for project-based research degrees: developing best practice Dr Bill Eckersley and Professor David Maunders Introduction With the introduction of the higher degrees by project at RMIT University, it was deemed necessary to identify a process by which students could best be supported in their work as action researchers. The development of cluster groups based on project foci has been built on the research related to action learning circles (Wade and Hammick 1999); action learning sets (McGill and Beaty 1992, 1995); becoming a set member in action learning (Beaty, Bourner and Frost 1993); and facilitating participatory action research (Reason and Bradbury 2001; Wadsworth 2001). The focus of this chapter is on the process of cluster or group supervision undertaken by one of the authors with a group of, initially, seven research students undertaking masters degrees (and in one case a doctoral degree) by project using action research. Group supervision was selected partly because the candidates were located remotely from campus but close to each other and partly because the supervisor recognised (in relation to some but not all topics selected) that his expertise lay more in action research method than in the focus of the research topic. This issue provided a motive for the supervisor to reflect on and improve his practice of supervision. Another motive lay in the fact that one candidate had reported dissatisfaction with the author’s supervision while all others expressed positive satisfaction. The author gained approval to use his supervision practice as a focus for action research, though this was only agreed (by university and student participants) after the group had completed confirmation of 141

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candidature requirements. As with many action research projects, the focus was on the issue of change, in this case how to develop good practice (if not ‘best practice’) in supervising through a group rather than individual meeting. Though the author engaged in some discussion with colleagues and in reading the theory and the literature of action research and learning sets, it is fair to say this began to have relevance as the project proceeded rather than the project following a specific theory or practice framework. Much has been written about discussion groups and seminar groups and how they can enable students to advance their individual and collective learning. McGill and Beaty (1995), for example, emphasise some key aspects of action learning sets that focus on the individual set member and their context rather than on group or team discussion. Sets are not teams and they do not function like formal meetings. McGill and Beaty suggest that people join action learning sets with two particular goals in mind: to solve a problem, and to learn from doing so. They emphasise that it is the learning rather than the solving the problem that is the key to action learning. Hence the role of the action learning set ‘is not to find a solution for the problem of each set member, but to help each set member to learn from finding solutions to their own problems’ (p. 352). Wade and Hammick (1999) describe their concept of action learning circles (based on McGill and Beaty’s research) as one that offers students opportunities to become action enquirers: This is a continuous process of learning from experience through reflection and action, with support of a group or ‘set’ of colleagues or students, whose make-up remains constant...Action learning circles allow students to focus their learning upon their own practice, and encourage their colleagues to act as critical co-investigators promoting dialogue and collaborative enquiry (p. 164). Central to the action learning circles process is Friere’s (1972) ‘conscientisation’ or ‘an awakening’ of critical consciousness or critical reflection. Whether they are called circles or sets (Beaty, Bourner and Frost 1993), there seems to be some common agreement about format and process. For example: • membership numbers vary between four and nine; • a facilitator can be appointed;

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• time is allocated so that each participant has an opportunity to share their project; • participants have a dual role both as problem owners and problem solvers; and • participants are expected to attend regularly. In addition to these key features there is the necessity to ensure positive member relationships. Wade and Hammick (1999) refer to the importance of establishing rapport within the circle. Developing trust between circle members can occur when members make a commitment to attend and support each other’s learning. They argue that members should draw up a set of ‘ground rules’ that help to ‘promote trust and a sense of security within the group’ (p. 168). Issues such as confidentiality, respect, valuing others and being able to both listen and share are essential features of successful groups. Beaty, Bourner and Frost (1993) also refer to the importance of developing within the group a set of attitudes that support participant learning—for example, demonstrating some concern for the well-being of members, and asking oneself ‘Is what I’m about to say helpful to the person whose time-slot it is?’ (pp. 353–4). They refer to the importance of active listening: ‘listening means having the right purpose in listening and is much more than just leaving a silence for the other to speak’ (p. 354). Other attitudes can include learning not to interrupt, and learning to ask ‘good’ questions that open ‘up the problem owner’s own view of their situation’ (p. 356). Taking care when offering advice is critical to group development: A set member whose only contribution is to give advice probably misunderstands the primary purpose of the set: he or she believes that it is to find solutions for the fellow members of the set whereas, in reality, it is to help them to discover solutions to their own problems and to learn from so doing…finding solutions for others denies them the opportunity of using the problem as a means of learning, whereas helping them to find their own solutions uses the problem as a vehicle for learning (p. 358). Beaty et al. highlight the importance of members being well prepared for their set meetings. Clearly defining either individual or set ‘action points’ that are ‘clear, specific and measurable’ and can be worked on prior to the next meeting can facilitate progress. They argue that it is the responsibility of the nominated individual set member to

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be well prepared and to use their time slot in the meeting to its best advantage. The individual set members must develop skills that enable them to learn to ask for what they want; learn how to get an emphatic response; learn how to take control of the process; learn how to receive; learn what is effective in presenting; and not only learn how to generate action points but learn how to act on the action points—‘it is those set members who undertake the most action that get the most out of the action learning process’ (p. 364). McNiff (2000, p. 202) suggests that an action researcher begins a process of enquiry by asking ‘How do I improve my work?’, and refers to Whitehead’s concept of the living ‘I’. The ‘I’ is not an hypothetical construct but a real person existing in time and space in the company of others: My research becomes the site for my own learning as I attempt to change my situation, and as I struggle to turn my values into practice. Because I am in relation to others, I need to negotiate my own process with others. This can be difficult, because my values are often denied in my practice and I experience myself as a living contradiction. (McNiff 2000, p. 203) The goal was to improve the process of supervision for all candidates and the supervisor sought to involve them in the reflective process to achieve this.

Action researching cluster supervision This section represents one author’s journey to improve his supervision practice. It is consequently written in the first person. The second author has contributed to the review of literature described in the paper and has acted as a reflective sounding board, editor and critical friend. The group context In November 2000 I was asked to contribute to the teaching of a research methods program—Approaches to Educational Research— for a group of regionally based research by project candidates. Resources and management problems had led to the group starting late and a number expressed dissatisfaction with this situation. Most of the group were employed by a regional TAFE network and included: Deidre, the industry-based mentor; Anthea and Zelda,


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senior staff of the TAFE network; Sean, campus manager for another TAFE network in a remote area who had moved to this position shortly after enrolment; Kate, a state public servant with extensive TAFE experience; Brenda, employed by the TAFE network but who had changed her project to focus on her lay work within the Anglican Church; and Hilary, responsible for the development of regional youth services. Two other candidates attended the research seminars but withdrew before completing a proposal. The above information may be sufficient for people connected with the regional TAFE network or staff of the RMIT Faculty of Education, Language and Community Services to identify the candidates. The candidates are collaborators in this project and have accepted that their involvement cannot be anonymous. I have not included details of each person as the project is not about the candidates but about the process of supervision. Whilst originally only one candidate, Hilary, had a topic close to my own area of expertise (although the topic selected by Sean also developed as one where I had some knowledge), I agreed to act as cluster facilitator for two reasons: Firstly, I was concerned that the commitment and motivation of the group might diminish if immediate support was not provided; and secondly, I was committed to the research by project strategy as a whole and wanted to see it succeed. The group was quite widely scattered and the optimum meeting point still required a commuter flight from Melbourne. Consequently, face-to-face meetings could not be frequent and needed some planning. Two face-to-face meetings and a number of phone conferences were held before the face-to-face presentation of proposals in March 2001. These sessions were candidate driven but facilitator focused. That is to say, the focus was on each individual’s project but the facilitator played an active role in clarifying university requirements for proposal and ethics approval and responded to student requests for resources. This often took the form of referring to the literature of action research (Kemmis, Cherry, Reason, Dick and others). The meeting agenda normally involved some general clarification of requirements and the process of action research, followed by a focus on each candidate in turn. Four candidates presented proposals in March 2001 and the process and outcomes also received favourable comment from the TAFE network senior management present. Two more candidates presented by phone conference in early April and the remaining candidate in May. Most had received ethics approval by June. The face-to-face meeting scheduled for June needed to address a number of significant issues. In comparison with other project research

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clusters, the group had been quite efficient in completing confirmation of candidature. However, I was concerned that the completion of this goal had seen a reduction of effort and a loss of momentum. My own absence on leave during this time increased my concerns. Initial suggestions that candidates provide some form of weekly report were not being followed by the candidates. This had been a departmental suggestion to which I had never fully committed myself. Some had communicated by phone or email and others had not. Finally, mid year progress reports indicated that a minority of candidates was not satisfied with support from the cluster facilitator and the university. The industry-based mentor, who had done excellent work in arranging meetings and maintaining communication, felt that her support was more effective with the candidates who were closest to her professional role (Anthea, Kate and Zelda). I met with Brenda in Melbourne to discuss her project and the agenda for the meeting. At the June meeting, I determined to put to the group the idea of undertaking action research on my supervision practice as a way of ensuring that I was meeting their needs and also of defining the value of the group supervision process. A number of other issues concerned with their remote location and group progress were also discussed. The June meeting agreed upon some significant strategies: • A peer support structure of dyads and triads was established in recognition of areas of common interest. • Candidates agreed to collaborate with my action research project to improve cluster supervision. • Candidates agreed to email regular progress reports. Unfortunately two members (Brenda and Hilary) were unable to attend the June meeting and arrangements to link them by phone proved largely unsuccessful for technical reasons, with only myself being able to speak to them. Ethics approval for the action research project was received on 30 July. My reasons for making my supervision (or cluster facilitation) the subject of a formal and public process of self-reflection were as follows: • I wanted to establish a framework of good practice (at least for myself). • I doubted my competence as supervisor for some candidates whose topics were far removed from my stated expertise in youth and community issues and needed to compensate through the collective and collaborative group resources.


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• I needed to record and define what I knew about action research in order to transmit this to the group effectively. A further meeting was arranged for September. Group agreement was also obtained for Sally to attend. Sally is a doctoral candidate by project who is not part of a cluster. Her project has some common issues with that of Sean and she had communicated with him and also with Deidre by email. Sally was able to arrange her work commitments to allow her to travel for the cluster meeting. Cluster meeting for September 2001: data, reflection and planning As a result of email consultation with the group, I provided an agenda with five items. I drew on some of the learning set approaches used by colleagues and I asked members to move away from a narrative report and to consider: 1. achievements (tasks completed etc), problems and challenges (needs for further knowledge and skills), progress in relation to project plan and other items; 2. operational issues—the question had been raised: how does my research differ from my normal work?—the final product and critical times in the project plan; 3. a focus group on the cluster supervision process: is it meeting needs; how can it be improved and are roles clear?; 4. housekeeping matters (further meetings); and 5. individual matters. Before the meeting, Kate notified that she would be unable to attend due to commitments to her minister. The grounding of Ansett flights prevented Anthea and Zelda from attending but they were able to link up by phone. This required a change in the sequence of the agenda. In order to involve Anthea and Zelda in the focus group, this followed their individual issues although other members had not completed contributions at this stage. The focus group concluded after the remaining individual contributions in the afternoon. Project reports showed that individuals were making significant progress. Feedback was both positive and supportively critical. Group members became involved in this without being defensive and found it difficult to retain their responses until the group critique had finished. It was from the focus group part of the agenda that the group really began to play a role in peer supervision.

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Focus group Discussion was invited about the effectiveness of the group supervision process and whether people were satisfied with it. Initial responses can be categorised in three ways: those who were satisfied with the process; those who were clearly dissatisfied; and those somewhere in between. These I will term the positives, the critics and the mediator. THE POSITIVES

The positives were the majority of the group (Anthea, Deidre, Sean and Zelda). Anthea considered that the support was great and the process was what she was looking for. She did not have time for a project that was not central to her own work and looked for a less involving process which allowed her to make use of her own resources. Anthea and Sean had had a useful peer meeting. Zelda felt that the industry-based mentor (Deidre) and facilitator had given direction and support when she was uncertain of the next steps. Sean said that he was still unsure how the project would develop and looked to ideas from the group. Zelda also valued group support and felt that the group approach had merit. THE CRITICS

Brenda felt that support and supervision responses were not adequate or appropriate. Responses took too long and she felt that customer service was not there. She was proceeding with the project on her own but felt that compared with other universities, the level of supervision was not what was expected. Anthea asked Brenda if she was not expecting the same individual supervision that was the norm for other programs. Brenda felt that there was insufficient intellectual stimulation. Hilary felt that she was struggling to work out the masters project. She felt that she was a fringe dweller and had not come to grips with RMIT, was therefore not part of it. She accepted some responsibility for this. THE MEDIATOR

The focus group was interrupted by lunch and reconvened without Anthea and Zelda, who had participated earlier by phone. It was considered (by other group members) that Hilary and Brenda had missed aspects of the group’s development by not being able to take part in


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the June group meeting. In this continued discussion, Hilary played a mediator role to try to clarify the concerns and issues raised by Brenda without rejecting the positions stated by other members. Hilary and Brenda clarified that an issue was the level of intellectual challenge. They argued that the group needed to develop a higher level of questioning and sharing and that, whilst projects were undertaken individually, there was a need to share reflections. Finally, a question was defined for the next meeting: What is the toolkit of reflective practice? I felt very positive at the end of the session because the group had acted to resolve a problem raised by a member and its dynamics were moving beyond the stage where everything depended on or worked through the facilitator. This raises the issue about the facilitator’s understanding of and use of group processes. However, the group needs most of its members to be present to be effective (those who missed the June meeting are not to be blamed for this but it did have an effect on feelings and perceptions). The November telephone conference Group members’ commitments made a further meeting in 2001 impossible and so a telephone conference was agreed for November with a face-to-face meeting scheduled for February 2002. A draft reflective paper, written from my observations of the meetings conducted after ethics approval, was shared with the group. This prompted written comment by Brenda that: ‘It would be naïve to think that this (group) process would abrogate the need for intellectual challenge and engagement with the supervisor on a one-to-one basis. The group meetings should be viewed as “post-graduate tutorials” rather than the supervision process.’ This essentially indicated that Brenda did not accept the basis on which the process of supervision was organised and undertaken and was requesting a one-on-one method of supervision. The selection of students, workplaces and topics had been made on the understanding of a cluster supervision process. I offered some individual comments to Brenda, suggesting how her needs might be met without agreeing to modify the process of cluster supervision. Email communication defined an agenda for the November telephone conference, largely consisting of a discussion of the form of the written narrative and the reflective practice issue. Anthea, Zelda and Deidre had submitted drafts of narrative pieces and Anthea, Brenda and Hilary had circulated thoughts on a toolkit for reflective practice based respectively on Cambourne (2001) and de Bono (1996). I also circulated material from McNiff (2000) and Schön (1995).

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In spite of the absence of Sean, technical delays to the conference start and equipment problems at one location, the conference was productive. Group members gave brief reflective reports of their progress and issues facing them in preparing their narratives. Hilary had discovered that the University of Bath offered a number of action research theses on line. Whilst they did not offer an adequate model for cluster members, they did offer some examples of reflective writing. Further discussion tended to overlap and merge with the reflective practice toolkit item as group members identified double loop learning (a focus on both content and learning process) in their projects (Argyris 1999). Brenda made some constructive contributions to the discussion. I used Schön’s (1995) analogy of the high ground and swamp of research to reassure members in the face of the uncertain direction of their projects. Epilogue: group development in 2002 This was the point reached by the end of 2001, when I wrote the paper to present to the RMIT supervision conference. The position of Brenda had not been formally settled. Her positive contribution to the November phone conference, particularly as it related to the idea of a toolkit for reflective practice, had led me to feel that she had accepted my argument that there was a contract for group supervision from the start. However, in 2002, in the course of individual follow up with students to encourage them to draft their journeys and findings, Brenda informed me that she would not submit her draft to me but had negotiated a change of supervisor. She did, however, wish to continue to attend the group. Some tense exchanges with the department coordinator produced an apology for not keeping me informed. My insistence (supported by group members) that the group process of peer appraisal would not support an observer was eventually accepted. The group continued with five members, with Deidre also leaving as she had taken up a new appointment that involved a change of location, which meant she could not easily attend. The group met three times in 2002, in February, May and August. The first two meetings followed the format of September 2001, though without the discussion of supervision arrangements. Without Brenda, the group became strongly focused on the individual and collective tasks of project completion: goals were set for each member to finish and write up their project by the end of 2002. At the May meeting, the group began to look at the examination process. Two members volunteered to do a trial presentation to a mock


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examination panel. I agreed to recruit two colleagues to sit with me as an examination panel. The two outsiders were to provide an external view, uninfluenced by the personal and intimate history that might influence my contribution. The presentations took place in August. Anthea and Zelda made presentation, though in each case their work was not sufficiently advanced to present for an actual examination. The group gained much confidence and information about the process. However, to me the most significant factor was the group’s increasing skill (demonstrated both in May and August) in offering constructive insights into the strengths and weaknesses of colleagues’ work, and guidance for action and development. The supervision process reached a stage where it was group supervision by a group, rather than individual supervision by an academic in a group context.

A supervisor’s journey: interim and final conclusions The process of reflection on cluster supervision, in collaboration with group members and assisted significantly by McNiff (2000), enabled me to reach some conclusions at that stage. The first of these was to reassess my view of a supervisor’s knowledge that I had largely seen as propositional (or a technical rational epistemology). McNiff (2000), drawing on Chomsky, argues that the focus of enquiry in the study of organisations is shifting from forms of theory that deal with facts and information to dialectical forms of theory that show how people themselves can offer explanations for what they do in terms of their own values and intentions. She argues that this theory sees managers as educators in the sense that they are well placed to create and nurture the conditions of learning. In the new scholarship, the unit of enquiry becomes the individual practitioner. ‘When I study my work as a manager, I am potentially generating my own theory of management’ (p. 14). McNiff argues that the responsibility of intellectuals is to generate theory for social benefit. She draws on Gramsci to argue that managers should position themselves as organic intellectuals who are able to encourage others to tell their stories. Her management practice is underpinned by the values of individual autonomy, integrity and justice. These were values that I believe I brought to the cluster supervision. I gained confidence as a process supervisor, in helping the individual candidates to present their stories in a form which could be successfully examined. Further, McNiff’s stated values are a meeting point. The values of youth work, education and community work invariably include these

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(see for example, Notley 1997). Whilst my role as supervisor is more educator than manager, McNiff’s view of management as personal support and development leads me to value more highly my experience of youth service management (outside the university) and program and postgraduate leadership within it. My intellectual leadership needs to be not so much in terms of knowledge of traditional organisational theory but in being able to assist group members in identifying paradigms and in telling their own stories. The evidence for this is in the completion of their projects. The second major conclusion is that the journey of self-reflection on cluster supervision is potentially a more effective form of training than externally imposed content driven programs of supervisor development. I say this as one who has participated in such programs consistently. The university is driven by the need to improve performance and outcomes and compliance is often equated with quality. This conclusion is a matter of my own judgement. Evidence can only be offered in relation to the successful completion (almost) of most group members. One further problem is that cluster supervision and workplace learning is often inspired by a desire to achieve more with fewer resources. The arena of resources often attracts players who see power in terms of control rather than collaboration. McNiff found significant opposition to practice research in English and Irish universities. It is difficult to provide evidence that cluster supervision saved time. When meetings took place they ran for a full working day and other contact was largely on an individual basis. Phone conferences were no more than an hour but these did not represent the most frequent contact. A final conclusion was the need for preparation. This may be in the form of clear agendas for meetings but also in encouraging candidates to develop clear project plans and to work from them, accepting the need for changes which the process of research will bring. Clear agendas resulted in productive meetings. When this paper was revised for publication, Hilary has completed a near final draft of the exegesis and durable record, and Anthea and Zelda substantial ones. Sean has indicated that a complete draft is only a few weeks away. Kate has not given a clear indication of progress other than to say that the project has been valuable for her work. Hopes of completion are not abandoned in her case. I kept less detailed records in 2003. I gained a sense of confidence that my practice would lead to project completion by members. It was somewhat like flying on automatic pilot or driving without thinking of each individual action. As group members neared com-


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pletion, my task became individual in giving feedback on written draft, no different to more conventional supervision practice. The group without Brenda became more harmonious and its level of trust increased, as is shown by the acceptance of feedback and the high quality of positive criticism. It is nothing new to record that group success is affected by the degree of common goals and level of trust of members.

References Argyris, C. 1999, On Organisational Learning, Blackwell, Oxford. Cambourne, B. 2001, Personal communication to Carol Hampton. Beaty, L., Bourner, T. and Frost, P. 1993, ‘Action learning: Reflections on becoming a set member’, Management Education and Development, vol. 24, no. 4, pp. 350–67. De Bono, E. 1996, Text Book of Wisdom, Penguin, Harmondsworth. Freire, P. 1972, Pedagogy of the Oppressed, Penguin, Harmondsworth. McGill, I. and Beaty, L. 1995, Action Learning: A Guide for Professional, Management and Educational Development, Kogan, London. McNiff, J. 2000, Action Research in Organisations, Routledge, London. Notley, M. 1997, Human Resource Development for the New Millennium, Commonwealth Youth Programme, London. Reeders, E. 2000, ‘Masters by project: The process of delivery. How will we make it work?’, Policy document, RMIT University, Bundoora. Schön, D. 1995, The new scholarship requires a new epistemology, Change, vol. 27, no. 21, pp. 26–9. Wade, S. and Hammick, M. 1999, ‘Action learning circles: Action learning in theory and practice’, Teaching in Higher Education, vol. 4, no. 2, pp. 163–78. Wadsworth, Y. 2001, ‘The mirror, the magnifying glass, the compass and the map: Facilitating participatory action research’, in Handbook of Action Research: Participative Inquiry and Practice, eds P. Reason and H. Bradbury, Sage, London, pp. 420–32.

CHAPTER 10

A fluid model for supervision Jacqueline Rowarth and Ian Cornforth Supervision is an art. The more we attempt to make it into a science, the more guidelines, regulations and formulae we adopt in an attempt to ensure a successful outcome, the more proscribed is the relationship between supervisor and student. This could have an impact upon creativity and certainly impacts upon trust. Without trust, the supervisor–student relationship is reduced to a component of work that must be completed. This, in turn, impacts upon enjoyment; the goal becomes completion rather than the experience of working with somebody as they develop research skills and independence. Supervision should be about helping students reach their individual potential, not about making sure a pass is achieved. This article describes a concept of the supervision process in the biological sciences. Research is about pushing back the frontiers of knowledge, and as a consequence is a journey towards a destination that is only a vision. (For many students, the vision is not so much the testing of the hypothesis, but the robe and title.) Although there is uncertainty about the destination, the path, milestones and potential obstacles are, to a certain extent, generically predictable. There will be the literature review, the creation of the hypothesis, the setting of objectives, a series of experiments which are successful to varying degrees, and a synthesis of the whole, with implications for the future. Within the journey equipment will fail, experiments will need repeating, hormones will cause a distraction, illness will occur, etcetera, etcetera, and the writing up will take much longer than predicted. But overall the successful student will be working towards creative and independent thought, and will show the ability to criticise, synthesise, analyse and interpret. This series of goals applies to all doctoral candidates. In the biological sciences, almost all students are enrolled fulltime and most have recently completed an honours or masters degree. This means that for most the rigours of academic study are relatively fresh; the challenge comes in experience and gearing up to what is required at the doctoral level.

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Responsibility number one: knowing what the journey will require The primary responsibility of the supervisor at the very beginning is to determine as far as possible that the student has the potential to achieve the requirements—such things as dedication to solving the problem, desire to learn and discover the answer, flair, persistence, ability to acquire technical competence and fortitude—all the factors that are necessary in research. The journey towards knowledge that we call research has been described as similar to sailing a boat up a narrow channel against the wind (Hillel 1987). The boat must tack backwards and forwards between the two banks to make progress. One bank is the ‘data bank’, where observations, measurements and experiments occur. The other bank is the realm of theory, including suppositions, hypotheses and models. The sailor moves from the data bank to the realm of theory by induction; the reverse leg involves deduction. There are shallow backwaters on each shore that can entrap the sailor, from which assistance in extrication may be required. On the theory bank the sailor may become dangerously distant from the sources of data or may be tempted into models too complex to be tested realistically. On the data bank there is the opposite danger of losing sight of theory and becoming submerged in a morass of disparate facts, which can be ordered only by empirical methods. The sailor must also avoid a series of obstacles that may impede a journey upwind. These include conventional wisdom, institutional administration, funding agencies, peer reviews, and publication policies (Hillel 1987). There are also numerous shoals such as committees and commercial temptations. Progress under these conditions is slow, and the sailor should be prepared to take advantage of sudden wind shifts and favourable currents when encountered. The good news for a research student is that, once candidature is accepted, everybody involved—from supervisors, to university to examiners—wants a successful completion; for a student, even though it does not seem like it at the time, the journey is downstream against the wind—that is, the flow is with them.

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Responsibility number two: knowing where the journey is heading The second responsibility of the supervisor is to work with the student on the research proposal to ensure that the proposed journey is feasible, achievable and is likely to be of suitable length. Science has been described as a river down which scientists travel to the sea of knowledge (Brooke 1996). Where the river is young, narrow and rapid, the scientists make good progress. They can see both banks at the same time and understand everything that influences the behaviour and progress of the river. As the river matures, it widens and starts to meander. It may split into a number of channels and islands appear with increasing frequency. The scientists can no longer see both banks and, although they have the opportunity to study their own parts of the river in great detail, they cannot see them in the context of the whole waterway. Nor can they see whether they are making progress down the river or are heading for a backwater. It is important, then, that at least some scientists have the initiative, ability and opportunity to rise above the water so that they can view the entire river system. By landing on one of the islands and climbing a tree they will be able to see both upstream towards the source, and downstream towards the sea. They will be able to appreciate and integrate the scientific flow of the past (Brooke 1996). The view downstream may not be as clear as that upstream, especially approaching the delta, but it may be possible to identify where the channels are clear, the flow strongest, and the extent to which they coalesce. Again there is good news for the student because there is a time constraint on the research and, increasingly, the question asked is not ‘have you answered your research question’ but ‘do you have enough for a PhD’? This means that although the Nobel Prize for a scientist is somewhere out to sea, the PhD may lie on one of the islands along the way.

Responsibility number three: knowing when and how to assist When the student enrols, and the supervisor agrees to be involved, both are making a commitment that is likely to last at least three years. The commitment has been described in terms of ‘crossing the Rubicon’ (Rowarth and Cornforth 2000), or as an irrevocable commitment to a course of action (Pearsall and Trumble 1996). In this analogy the PhD journey is tantamount to crossing a river, with the far


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bank being the place where the student is capable of independent research. The first step is to plot the lie of the land and identify the point on the opposite bank that the research seeks to reach. This requires having an overview, which might be quite difficult for the student. Although they usually spend a couple of months in the library, reading scientific literature and becoming familiar with previous work, this tends to focus their minds on the minutiae. The big picture often requires assistance from the supervisor to enable them to see how their part of the work will contribute overall. Furthermore, it is the supervisor who should be able to judge the size of the river/research program and be able to advise the student on how much research (a) constitutes a PhD and (b) can be achieved in three years. The overview helps in plotting the path to success. Grasping the concept of the research as a whole may be difficult, so it should be broken into a series of hypotheses and individual objectives. The accomplishment of each objective is then similar to crossing part of the river, e.g. a tributary, allowing a rest while ideas are reformulated before moving on. How big a tributary can be tackled at each stage depends on the student. Very able students may be able to make rapid progress with little assistance other than occasional checks that they are still on course. Others will require assistance at the beginning while they become accustomed to the process. This may even mean that the supervisor has to help the student to construct a series of steppingstones that lead towards the goal in easy stages. Stepping-stones can be very difficult to put in place and, while it may seem easier for the supervisor to simply carry the student across the river, it is very important that the student is involved in placing them. The sort of supervisor who looks at the data and immediately interprets it and moves on to the next experiment with ‘What you should do next...’ words is revealing ability and enthusiasm, but is not allowing the student to develop or show independent or original thought. For students this may be so depressing that they give up. Questions such as ‘What do you think this means?’ and ‘Have you thought about how you might prove that?’ are very much more encouraging. If these questions are not enough to elicit an appropriate response, one can move the stepping-stone a little closer by asking ‘Have you any idea what caused this result?’ and ‘Have you compared the data on the two figures?’. It may even be necessary (at the beginning of the study) to ask ‘Could this result have been caused by X?’ or ‘Why was the process faster when you used Y?’.

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It is important to recheck the lie of the land at regular intervals, to make sure that the progress that is apparently being made is actually leading to the chosen point on the other bank. However, this goal must not be inflexible. The landing point identified at the beginning of the project may not continue to be the best place. It may be that new discoveries from other laboratories, published during the study, mean that a different destination should be chosen. Similarly, new discoveries by the student may lead to a different landing point. This is tantamount to being swept downstream—we all know that one should be sufficiently flexible to take the next best alternative landing point. The supervisor must be au fait with the student’s work, and that of similar research groups, to avoid rapids or stagnant pools, to judge which new path is appropriate, and how much the student should struggle against the flow—will the struggle have a positive outcome or end in disaster? At all stages it is important to offer encouragement to the student. This can be as simple as saying ‘You are doing great work here’, or ‘I’m impressed by what you have achieved/your interpretation’. More encouraging is to be able to say: ‘Have you thought about where you might present this?’; or ‘At this rate of progress you have potential to submit within X months; have you thought about how that might be achieved?’ Periodically students flounder. It may be that the leap was too great, or that preparation for take-off was inadequate. Whatever the cause, rescue must occur in some way, with minimum damage to the given student. This may mean encouraging perseverance, plotting a new path (which may involve retracing some steps), or planning an exit strategy. The latter is very hard. Sometimes students will reveal that they feel that doctoral studies are not actually germane to their future. Sometimes one might be able to assist them in reaching this decision. Sometimes one has to declare doubts about the ability of a student; there are usually mechanisms in place that assist this. It is extremely difficult to tell somebody that the battle will not have a successful outcome. However, the opposite bank is supposed to be where independent scientists exist. If students constantly require frequent stepping-stones, and cannot plan their own paths without frequent consultation and reassurance, they should not be assisted in the crossing. After all, if you are not there to fish them out when they miss, they will drown in real life, and your reputation as well as theirs will suffer. The risks of a student having to give up the chosen study can be minimised by rigorously assessing the student’s academic record


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before enrolment and by not confirming enrolment until a satisfactory research proposal has been developed.

Responsibility number four: maintaining flexibility From these analogies, and the very fact that all involve a journey on water, we should remember that the relationship between a supervisor and student is dynamic and fluid. There are many theories about setting up regular meetings, keeping to timelines and giving appropriate feedback, but what is regular, timely and appropriate changes with stage of experiment and as the student develops; it is also discipline and maturity dependent. In the biological sciences, where experiments often involve living things, complex equipment and relatively immature students, regular often means daily; timelines change with the seasons, and appropriate feedback means overnight and constructive. If a student appears at the door it generally means they believe that no progress is possible until a conversation has been had or a problem solved. Indeed, one of the responsibilities of a supervisor is to assist the student into the habit of having several activities on the go at once, so that if something stalls one activity, another one is at hand where progress can be made. The most common difficulties identified in doing a research degree are (Lillis 2000): • interpersonal difficulties; • supervisor absences; • failure of the supervisor to assist in the development of the proposal; • failure to hold regular meetings with the student; • delays or omissions in the provision of software or equipment; and • delays or omissions in the provision of feedback on thesis drafts. Although it has been suggested that the systems should be provided by universities to protect both parties (Lillis 2000), it is acknowledged that it is probably the student who is most damaged when ‘things go wrong’ (Djerassi 1999). Attempts to impose regulations, particularly as the student body becomes more litigious (note the increased prevalence of ombudsmen or equivalent in Australasian tertiary institutions: Stuhmcke 2001), have resulted in reluctance to

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become involved in supervision. Therefore, it is sensible to establish the supervisory relationship based on one of mutual respect, trust and belief in the ability and potential of both parties (Rowarth and Cornforth 2001). The relationship is similar to that of a captain and pilot—the pilot comes aboard for the tricky bits until they are confident of the captain’s ability, but is around for advice.

Responsibility number five: effecting completion Reaching the opposite bank is wonderful. The sense of achievement is at least equivalent to winning a battle, and has probably been achieved without bloodshed. However, there will almost certainly be mental scars of some type. By careful supervision, involving strategic planning, plotting of the path, encouragement in placing steppingstones and, occasionally, going with the flow, those scars can be minimised.

Responsibility number six: building the canoe Skills additional to the technical and research skills gained during a PhD are required in life, and one of the roles of a supervisor can be to prepare the student for the next experience. Building a CV is done using professional, academic and extra-curricula activities. Awards and conference attendance are important, but so is community involvement (if the student is interested and good at time management). Anything to do with school science programs or up-skilling communication ability is to be encouraged and will help round the student out. This is important when one considers that employers are looking for more than just technical skills. Willingness to learn, initiative, achievement orientation, flexibility, teamwork, conceptual and analytical thinking are all rated highly (Burchell, Hodges and Rainsbury 2000); all of these can be achieved during a PhD (Rowarth 1998).

Responsibility number seven: launching the canoe Towards the end of the doctoral study, students start looking for postdoctoral positions. The challenge at this stage is to keep the focus on the present journey, rather than allowing new visions of different waters to intrude. Another challenge is often that such a good job has been done of building the canoe, the student is ready to launch without a pilot. At this stage a careful balance must be maintained to give


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the student confidence in completing, and in searching for the right next step, mixed with appropriate humility so that the examiners of the thesis are not antagonised.

Conclusions A successful PhD program starts when the student and supervisor develop mutual respect and trust. It is completed when the student is capable of independent research. We have used a series of analogies involving river journeys to suggest how this can be achieved. We have also listed the supervisor’s responsibilities and suggested some approaches that can improve the chances of success. Perhaps the most important attribute of a successful PhD supervision is a very finely judged balance between prescription and guidance. This balance must be allowed to change as the student develops the ability to do independent research. A skilled supervisor will regularly assess the student’s progress towards independence and adjust the balance between leadership and guidance accordingly. The rate at which the student develops cannot be predicted with any certainty. Nor does the progress of biological research follow a strict timetable. The art of supervision involves the flexible interweaving of the scientific, technical and human components of the research process in a way that anticipates the predictable and responds to the unpredictable.

References Brooke, M. 1996, ‘Up a creek without a paddle’, New Scientist, 2 March, p. 46. Burchell, N., Hodges, D. and Rainsbury, E.A. 2000, ‘What competencies does the workplace expect from business graduates—Some perspectives of Top 500 companies in New Zealand’, in Celebrating Diversity, eds D. Hodges and C. Eames, New Zealand Association for Cooperative Education Conference 1999, Rotorua, pp. 3–12. Cornforth, I.S. and Rowarth, J.S. 2000, ‘The rivers of science’, New Zealand Science Review, vol. 57, pp. 4–5. Djerassi, C. 1999, ‘Who will mentor the mentors?’, Nature, vol. 397 (28 January), p. 291. Hillel, D. 1987, ‘The tortuous path of research’, Soil Science, vol. 143, pp. 304–5. Lillis, D. 2000, ‘Doctoral supervision: Thoughts and observations’, New Zealand Science Review, vol. 57, pp. 52–6.

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Pearsall, J. and Trumble, B. (eds) 1996, The Oxford English Reference Dictionary, 2nd edition, OUP, Oxford UK. Rowarth, J.S. 1998, ‘Passionate minds’, New Scientist, vol. 2142, p. 54. Rowarth, J.S. and Cornforth, I.S. 2000, ‘Crossing the Rubicon’, New Zealand Science Review, vol. 57, pp. 50–1. Rowarth, J.S. and Cornforth, I.S. 2001, ‘Choosing a supervisor’, Higher Ground Postgraduate Report, p. 7. Stuhmcke, A. 2001, ‘Grievance handling in Australian universities: The case of the university ombudsman and the dean of students’, Journal of Higher Education Policy and Management, vol. 23, pp. 181–9.

CHAPTER 11

The supervisor’s role as manager of the PhD journey1 Tricia Vilkinas Introduction The role of the PhD supervisor is becoming more complex and challenging in the changing academic environment (Acker, Hill and Black 1994; Conrad 1999; Delamont, Atkinson and Parry 1997; Department of Education 2001a; Lett and Slack 1993; Pearson 1996, 1999, 2002; Pearson and Ford 1997). The basis for the funding of universities has changed considerably in the last decade (AVCC 1999). Previously, Australian universities received the bulk of their funds from government. Now they need to generate some 40 percent of their funding from other sources (AVCC 1999), such as entering into partnerships with business, selling courses overseas and providing more university places for international students who pay full fees. Not only is government funding decreasing but the basis of the funding is also changing: where 10 years ago funding was based mainly on numbers of students taking up courses of study, a greater percentage of government funds is now being linked to the completion rates of research students (Department of Education 2001b). In these circumstances, supervisors face competing demands: not only are they experiencing unprecedented financial pressure from strategies that link university funding to postgraduate completion rates, but they must simultaneously nurture outstanding academic performance. In addition, supervisors must now supervise more research students than in the closing decade of the last century. In 1989 there were 14,751 research students (DEETYA 1998) studying in Australian universities; some 12 years later there were 37,374 research students (Department of Education 2001b), an increase of two-and-a-half fold. The completion rate for these students in 1999 was 51 percent (Department of Education 1999). Of these completions, only 36 percent of doctoral students completed within time, and 18 percent of 163

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masters students—an issue of concern to universities given that a significant amount of their funding is based on completion rates. Recent research has shown the key role that supervisors play in achieving completion of the research degree (Aguinis, Nesler, Quigley, Suk-Jae-Lee and Tedeschi 1996; Aspland, Edwards and O’Leary 1999; Haksever and Manisali 2000; Styles and Radloff 2001; Taylor 2001). In particular, Seagram, Gould and Pyke (1998) report that the quality of supervision was a key factor in timely completions. Readers familiar with the discipline of business management will recognise such a picture of supervision as running parallel to the best current thinking in that field. The supervisor must manage the PhD process—the journey through the PhD (Acker et al. 1994; Vilkinas 2002). Their role is as critical to a successful outcome for the candidate (Delamont et al. 1997; Department of Education 2001a) as the manager’s role is to the successful operation of a business. Good supervisors have research knowledge and related skills, management and interpersonal skills (Beasley 1999). They need to be innovative, creative problem solvers, resource-oriented, work-focused, technically expert, decisive and dependable. They have to monitor progress, be caring and empathetic and a team builder. They need to use all of these skills to empower their research students to successfully complete their thesis. In addition, the supervisor, like a business manager, must be able to assess which of these supervisory qualities is needed at any particular time (Gurr 2001); and during the student’s journey through the doctoral program the supervisor must deliver each of these qualities with expertise, ease and care. In order to do this, they must be able to take a ‘helicopter perspective’ of the PhD process and accurately assess their own capabilities as a supervisor. The supervisory role is, therefore, not unlike that of a manager who strives for effective management through informed observation, sensitive analysis and appropriate application of their skills as a leader. While some academics argue that different disciplines require different forms of supervision, and that it is not possible to provide a generic framework for PhD supervision (Becher 1994), others point out that postgraduate supervision is generic in nature (Conrad 1999), just as the management process in organisations is generic (Morley 1999; Vilkinas and Cartan 2001a, 2001b). It is only the context that alters. A generic model that explains the various roles that supervisors need to actively adopt in order to effectively manage their PhD students will apply no matter what the discipline. The role of the academic supervisor and the role of a business manager are, therefore, analogous. It is this analogy that will be used

The super visor’s role as manager of the PhD journey

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to offer greater insight into the activities of the supervisor, and to demonstrate that PhD supervision requires abilities and attitudes that lie outside the bounds of the subject discipline. By using a management model, a greater understanding of the complex set of roles that the supervisor needs to perform will be achieved, and the generic, universal aspects of the activity of supervision will be demonstrated.

A management model for supervisors The concepts of academic supervision and business management are highly analogous. Each involves at least one individual who is engaged in a specific task or tasks (the student; employee), who is being supervised or managed by another individual in order that a shared goal may be attained. Neither in the business nor the university setting are managers or supervisors required to be expert in the knowledge content represented in the task, although they may be. They are required, however, to understand how the task can be successfully completed within the parameters of the system in which they are working. In business, this might mean understanding the cost, constraints and steps involved in making a batch of silicon chips, for example; and managing to get the chips made within budget, in the timeframe and within the stipulated tolerances. Managers do not have to be involved in the design of the chip or even have worked on the factory floor. They do, however, need to possess expertise in getting tasks done. In the university, the supervisor will have a parallel set of responsibilities when managing a PhD student. There is an academic system that applies constraints, a timeframe and a standard of quality. Without being expert in the topic being researched by a student, the supervisor should be able to manage the process within the given parameters so that a quality product results. That is, the supervisor needs to assist the student to successfully complete their thesis. The competing values framework (CVF) A management framework provided by Robert Quinn was developed to explain the various managerial roles required for personal effectiveness in complex business environments (Denison, Hooijberg and Quinn 1995; Hart and Quinn 1993; Hooijberg and Quinn 1993; O’Neill and Quinn 1993; Quinn, Faerman, Thompson and McGrath, 1990, 1996). The competing values framework (CVF), according to Quinn, postulates that there are basically two key dimensions to

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leadership in management. The first is a flexibility–stability dimension and the second is an external–internal focus dimension. Quinn used these two dimensions to create a four-quadrant model (comprising eight operational roles), which forms the basis of the CVF. For each quadrant there are different outcomes, as shown in Figure 1.

Figure 1: The competing values model

Quinn has argued that effective business managers must be able to operate comfortably in all quadrants, although vastly different (and at times paradoxical) skills and mindsets will be required. For example, Quadrant 1 demands a manager who is flexible and has an external focus. In this environment of expansion, adaptation and change, staff are motivated by a common vision, the excitement of the change and risk taking. Contrast this with Quadrant 3, where the organisation requires consolidation and continuity. Here the manager must demonstrate an internal focus and seek stability. Staff in this environment want certainty and predictability. Similarly, Quadrants 2 and 4 are clearly paradoxical (external/stable and flexible/internal respectively).


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Quinn’s model provides further insight by identifying eight operational roles: innovator, broker, producer, director, coordinator, monitor, facilitator and mentor (see again Figure 1). A brief description of each of these roles is provided in Table 1. Table 1: Description of the eight operational roles Role

Description

innovator

continually searches for innovation and improvements solves problems in creative way envisions needed changes

broker

exerts upward influence acquires needed resources external focus

producer

gets the work done customer focus achievement orientation

director

provides direction clarifies priorities communicates unit’s goals

coordinator

coordinates activities schedules brings sense of order to workplace

monitor

monitors progress collects information holds regular reviews

facilitator

builds teams facilitates consensus manages conflict

mentor

develops staff listens empathically treats each staff member in a caring way

Effective business managers must be able to perform each of the eight operational roles. Equally important will be their ability to decipher what role is required at any particular time. The modified competing values framework+ (CVF) The CVF is as applicable to the PhD supervision process as it is to business management. A ninth ‘process’ role, the integrator, has been

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added to the model by Vilkinas and Cartan following further research (Vilkinas and Cartan 2001a).

Figure 2: The modified competing values model+

The strength of the modified competing values framework+ for academic supervision is that it: – has a learning component in the integrator role as introduced by Vilkinas and Cartan; – offers a reasonably complete spectrum of operational roles (i.e. what supervisors need to do); – recognises the paradoxical nature of these operational roles; – asserts that effective supervisors must be able to deliver all eight operational roles and to move with ease between the roles depending on the situation at hand. They must be able to decipher what role is required at any particular time and then they must execute this role appropriately; – emphasises the appropriate use of each role—not to overuse


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or under use any role and to match its use to the student’s requirements at the time; and – is simple and intuitive. The modified management model provides a useful framework for analysing and developing supervisory roles and skills. The following discussion describes the roles and the balance required to successfully operate within them. the innovator Innovator

continually searches for innovation and improvements solves problems in creative way envisions needed changes

In the role of innovator, business managers, ideally, are flexible, adaptable to change and creative. So too should be the supervisor. They should be able to focus on the academic environment within which they work; and identify and interpret the issues, attitudes and methods that are regarded as significant and how the environment may be changing. Further, they can assist the student to judge what topics are suitable for research and determine what methodological approaches are appropriate. Supervisors can visualise the finished thesis and recognise any changes that are needed to produce the final product. They develop creative ways of presenting the thesis and of discussing issues with the student. Supervisors are always looking for better ways for the student to undertake the necessary data collection, and will seek new and different approaches to problems that are encountered. If supervisors should inadvertently overuse this role they may begin to introduce change for change sake; for example, asking the student to make changes to their thesis because change is perceived as progress when it may just be change. This would be not unlike the business manager who is constantly restructuring his or her department or organisation without any discernible benefit. If the role is not used when it is required, however, supervisors may be overly conservative in their management of their research students and ignore necessary changes in content, direction or methodology. the broker broker

exerts upward influence acquires needed resources external focus

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In the role of broker, business managers exhibit strong negotiation skills, the ability to influence decision-makers, and the capacity to acquire the resources that are needed for them to complete the tasks for which they are responsible. Supervisors need the same skills. They should be able, for example, to negotiate successfully for the equipment and office space the student will need, as well as influencing various groups to be involved in the data collection process if required. Supervisors should also be very good at developing networks of potential examiners and at knowing who are the best academics in the research area, not only in terms of content, but also in terms of examination skills. The role of broker is not an easy one to fulfil. It requires diplomacy, persistence and excellent communication skills. If supervisors act injudiciously in this role, they may be seen to engage in actions that are politically expedient but of doubtful ethical quality. On the other hand, if they do not act as broker on behalf of their students, then, like ineffectual business managers, they will have limited influence on those who make decisions and their students will be poorly resourced. Their students may not be able to finish their theses because of lack of equipment; or they may attract examiners who are unknown and have different methodological approaches to the research in question. A supervisor’s inability to broker effectively on behalf of the students can put the successful completion of the doctoral program at risk. the producer producer

gets the work done customer focus achievement orientation

According to the CVF, one of the responsibilities of a manager is to ensure that ‘work gets done’. In business terms getting the work done may result in either a service or a manufactured item. The role of the academic supervisor as producer is to ensure that students successfully complete their theses. They read drafts, make comments, meet with students and motivate them to finish the ‘product’. In operating in the role of producer, both the academic supervisor and business manager must correctly judge the pace of the activity. Students pushed too hard, like employees, quickly become exhausted and reluctant workers. On the other hand, lack of supervisory pressure may result in low productivity. Ultimately, no thesis may be produced at all. It is up to the supervisor to determine a realistic


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pace and modify it as and when required to guarantee a successful outcome for the student, themselves, the institution and the body of knowledge to which the student is adding. the director director

provides direction clarifies priorities communicates unit’s goals

In the role of director, supervisors, like business managers, are able to prioritise the work that needs to be undertaken, to clarify direction and to provide structure. Supervisors clearly understand what activities are necessary for a student to successfully complete a PhD and can help the student to prioritise each activity. They ensure that the student only pursues activities that will help them to complete their thesis. Some students, for example, may get sidetracked by other activities such as attending workshops on statistical packages that they are not likely to use in their data analysis. If the role of director is used more often than is required, however, over regulation will result in an undesirable focus on the task at the expense of the student. Like the business employee who is bound by inflexible structures and priorities fixed by the manager without consultation, the student will become disenchanted with the task as well as the quality of supervision. The same outcome will result if insufficient direction is supplied. The supervisor will be perceived as indecisive; the student will experience time delays and uncertainty in establishing priorities. Just as business employees who are poorly directed fail to produce the best product possible, so will students in the face of over and under direction fail to produce their best research and papers. The need to find a position of balance in this and the other supervisory roles emphasises the challenging nature of PhD supervision. the coordinator coordinator

coordinates activities schedules brings sense of order to workplace

In the role of coordinator, supervisors are able to coordinate all of the activities needed to successfully complete the thesis. They provide stability, control and continuity. A strong coordinator will ensure that there are no delays due to lack of planning, such as examiners not being notified early enough. The journey through the research and writing process must not be disordered with inefficient workflows,

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and it is the coordinator’s role to anticipate and prevent delays. The role is not unlike that of the business manager who does not want manufacturing to cease because of lack of planning, and who develops schedules for ordering raw materials or prepares staff rosters to ensure the completion of a variety of tasks. There is a danger that in the role of coordinator supervisors will exert excessive control. In striving for order, they may make the student feel over regimented and too controlled. Keeping rigorously to the schedule may override some careful or innovative thinking on the research topic. An effective supervisor will, however, be alert to this danger and remain flexible and able to adjust the schedule or ensure that it is adhered to as required. the monitor monitor

monitors progress collects information holds regular reviews

In the role of monitor, both business managers and supervisors need to keep a close eye on progress. A business manager needs to know what stage each task is at, when it will be completed, and if it will be on time, within budget and of a suitable standard. So too must the supervisor. The supervisor must determine if the student is progressing at the rate expected, whether they are losing interest, getting stuck or ‘hitting the wall’. If either the business manager or supervisor uses this role more than is needed there will be inappropriate measurement, that is, measurement for measurement’s sake. Minor activities will be measured and time will be taken to produce reports—time that could be used to complete the task at hand. If supervisors fail to use this role, on the other hand, they will not be clear on what progress the student is making during their candidature. In the worse case scenario, the supervisor will not know when or if the student will complete. the facilitator facilitator

builds teams facilitates consensus manages conflict

The PhD supervisor, like the business manager, has an important role to perform as a facilitator. Just as business managers need to spend time developing their staff to work as a team, so too must


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supervisors. They need to focus on the development of cohorts of research students who can help each other with critical questions and useful references. Supervisors must be able to manage any conflicts that may occur and to build research teams. When such a role is overused in the workplace, the office or shopfloor might come to resemble a country club – a lot of social activity but not much work getting done. Similarly, its overuse in supervision will lead to too many meetings seeking students’ opinions and an over-reliance on unproductive group decision-making and tangential discussions. If supervisors do not use the facilitator role when it is needed, however, they run the risk of dealing with demotivated students working in a hostile and competitive environment. the mentor mentor

develops staff listens empathically treats each staff member in a caring way

As mentors, business managers and supervisors focus on the development of each individual’s capabilities. They look to see what the individual needs of each employee or student are—more time, more training, more support or more space. Mentoring requires the supervisor to guide and to nurture students. In order to do this, they must exercise discipline at the same time as they offer empathy and care. Inappropriate mentoring by managers or supervisors can lead to permissiveness and discourage personal discipline among employees or research students. A total lack of mentoring will mean that students fail to grow or thrive academically, just as employees without role models fail to develop the necessary skills and knowledge to do their jobs or apply for promotion. the integrator Integrator

critical observer reflective learner selects the most appropriate of the eight operational roles

The integrator is a ‘process’ role that is composed of two parts: the ‘critical observer’ and the ‘reflective learner’ (Vilkinas and Cartan 2001a). This role provides guidance to the business manager and the supervisor in the process of selecting the appropriate CVF+ role for the context (critical observer) and by improving the capacity to move

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between the eight operational roles (reflective learner). It performs in that sense the internal integrating function and is the key that unlocks the potential of those other roles. The integrator role requires that academic supervisors: – critically observe and interpret the changing environment on an ongoing basis (critical observer); – possess well-refined self-diagnostic skills (critical observer), to provide accurate awareness of their own strengths and limitations and their impact on their academic environment (reflective learner); – have the capacity to learn from and adapt to their environment based on previous experiences (reflective learner); and therefore – are able to adopt the most appropriate role because of this strong self-awareness, accurate environmental assessment and capacity to learn. The integrator role embodies all of the above concepts to provide explanation and guidance for supervisors. It offers a coherent process for selecting, adopting and adapting the CVF+ operational roles through observation, reflection and learning. The relationship of these dimensions of the integrator to the other roles and to individual effectiveness also has support from the research of the author. Their study (Vilkinas and Cartan 2001a) found that there was a significant positive relationship between the integrator and high scores on each of the eight operational roles and on individual effectiveness of business managers. The integrator was also found to be a significant predictor of effectiveness. That is, business managers who have strong integrators are more likely to deliver all eight roles significantly than are those who have weaker integrators. Such might also be the case for the research supervisor.

Conclusion Supervisory roles in Australian universities have become more complex. Their performance is now a key factor in the funding received by universities. A process that assists supervisors to increase the number of successful completions in time and that reduces the attrition rate of their students is needed. The CVF+ provides such a framework that will allow supervisors to learn from the best practice of business managers.


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Notes 1

I am grateful to both Greg Cartan and Barbara Brougham, who assist me with the development of my papers.

References Acker, S., Hill, T. and Black, E. 1994, ‘Thesis supervision in the social sciences: Managed or negotiated?’, Higher Education, vol. 28, pp. 483–98. Aguinis, H., Nesler, M., Quigley, B., Suk-Jae-Lee and Tedeschi, J. 1996, ‘Power bases of faculty supervisors and educational outcomes for graduate students’, Journal of Higher Education, vol. 67, no. 3, pp. 267–97. Aspland, T., Edwards, H. and O’Leary, J. 1999, Tracking new directions in the evaluation of postgraduate supervision’, Innovative Higher Education, vol. 24, no. 2. Australian Vice-Chancellors’ Committee (AVCC) 1999, A Comparison Between New Knowledge, New Opportunities: A Discussion Paper on Research and Research Training (The Green Paper) and Knowledge and Innovation: A Policy Statement on Research and Research Training (The White Paper). Beasley, N. 1999, ‘Staff development to support research supervision’ in Good Practice in Postgraduate Supervision, eds G. Wisker and N. Sutcliffe, (SEDA paper 106), Staff and Educational Development Association, London. Becher, T. 1994, ‘The significance of disciplinary differences’, Studies in Higher Education, vol. 19, no. 2, pp. 151–61. Buenger, V., Daft, R., Conlon, E. and Austin, J. 1996, ‘Competing values in organisations: Contextual influences and structural consequences’, Organisation Science, vol. 7, no. 5, pp. 557–76. Conrad, L. 1999, ‘Contextualising postgraduate supervision to promote quality’, in Good Practice in Postgraduate Supervision, eds G. Wisker and N. Sutcliffe, Staff and Educational Development Association, London, pp. 13–24. Delamont, S., Atkinson, P. and Parry, O. 1997, Supervising the PhD: A Guide to Success, The Society for Research into Higher Education and Open University Press, Buckingham. Denison, D.R., Hooijberg, R. and Quinn, R.E. 1995, ‘Paradox and performance: Toward a theory of behavioural complexity on managerial leadership’, Organisational Science, vol. 6, pp. 524–40.

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Department of Education, Employment and Youth Affairs (DEETYA) 1998, Learning for Life – Final Report; Review of Higher Education Financing and Policy, Australian Government Printing Service, Canberra. Department of Education, Training and Youth Affairs 1999, Characteristics and Performance Indicators of Higher Education Institutions, DETYA. Available: http://www.dest.gov.au/ highered/statpubs.htm#studpubs [8 April 2002]. Department of Education, Training and Youth Affairs 2001a (May), Factors Associated with Completion of Research Higher Degrees (Higher Education Series), DETYA. Department of Education, Training and Youth Affairs 2001b, Research Training Scheme Guidelines, DETYA. Available: http://www.hecs.gov.au/manual/02/htm/guidelines/research.htm [10 April 2002]. Gurr, G. 2001, ‘Negotiating the “rackety bridge” – A dynamic model for aligning supervisory style with research student development’, Higher Education Research and Development, vol. 20, no. 1, pp. 81–92. Haksever, A. and Manisali, E. 2000, ‘Assessing supervision requirements of the PhD student: The case’, European Journal of Engineering Education, vol. 25, no. 1, pp. 19–32. Hart, S.L. and Quinn, R.E. 1993, ‘Roles executives play: CEOs behavioural complexity and firm performance’, Human Relations, vol. 46, no. 5, pp. 114–22. Hooijberg, R. and Quinn, R.E. 1993, ‘Behavioral complexity and the development of effective managers’, in Strategic Management: A Multiorganisational-level Perspective, eds R.J. Philips and J.G. Hunt, Quorum, New York. Lett, B. and Slack, F. 1993, ‘Training supervisors of work-based master’s level research projects’, The International Journal of Educational Management, vol. 7, no. 6, pp. 35–9. Morley, K. 1999, ‘Successful public sector executives: Identifying key future quality requirements using a comparative research framework’, unpublished doctoral thesis, University of South Australia, Adelaide. O’Neill, R.M. and Quinn, R.E. 1993, ‘Editor’s note: Applications of the competing values framework’, Human Resource Management, vol. 32, no. 1, pp. 1–7. Pearson, M. 1996, ‘Professionalising PhD education to enhance the quality of the student experience’, Higher Education, vol. 32, pp. 303–20.


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Pearson, M. 1999, The changing environment for doctoral education in Australia: Implications for quality management, improvement and innovation, Higher Education Research and Development, vol. 18, no. 3, pp. 269–87. Pearson, M. 2002, ‘Changing contexts, changing roles: Implications for supervisor development’, Supervision: Changing Contexts, Changing Roles, Communities of Practice Conference, RMIT, Research and Development, Inaugural research on research conference. Pearson, M. and Ford, L. 1997, Open and Flexible PhD Study and Research (97/16), Evaluations and Investigations Program, Higher Education Division, Canberra. Quinn, R., Faerman, S., Thompson, M. and McGrath, M. 1990, Becoming a Master Manager, Wiley & Sons, New York. Quinn, R., Faerman, S., Thompson, M. and McGrath, M. 1996, Becoming a Master Manager 2nd edn, Wiley & Sons, New York. Seagram, B., Gould, J. and Pyke, S. 1998, ‘An investigation of gender and other variables on time to completion of doctoral degrees’, Research in Higher Education, vol. 39, p. 3. Styles, I. and Radloff, A. 2001, ‘The synergistic thesis: Student and supervisor perspectives’, Journal of Further and Higher Education, vol. 25, no. 1, pp. 98–106. Taylor, D. 2001, ‘Supervision of research students’, paper presented at the Research workshop, Universiti Teknologi Mara, 11 August. Vilkinas, T. 2000, ‘The gender factor in management: How significant others perceive effectiveness, Women in Management Review, vol. 15, no. 5/6, pp. 261–71. Vilkinas, T. (2002). The PhD process: The supervisor as manager. Education and Training, (forthcoming) (3). Vilkinas, T. and Cartan, G. 1998, ‘Being an effective manager is as simple or as hard as being a good gardener’, paper presented at the Australian Human Resources Institute, Canberra, 25 May. Vilkinas, T. and Cartan, G. 2001a, The behavioural control room for managers: The integrator role’, Leadership and Organisation Development, vol. 22, no. 4, pp. 175–85. Vilkinas, T. and Cartan, G. 2001b, ‘A global management framework: the CVF+ approach’, in Global Business Regulation: Some Research Perspectives, eds K. Thorne and G. Turner, Pearson Education Australia, Frenchs Forest, NSW, pp. 151–63.

CHAPTER 12

Changing candidature approval processes: a review of the RMIT Business panel review of candidature process Professor Robert Brooks and Elizabeth Merlot

Australian higher degrees research student completion rates have become an increasing concern to Australian universities. Candidature approval processes provide an opportunity for institutions to influence higher degree research student completion. Such processes seem to be used in the United Kingdom and most Australian universities. However, it is not clear what a candidature approval process involves or what helps to make it successful. This chapter outlines findings from a study reviewing the responses of staff and research students in the Faculty of Business at RMIT regarding a change in the candidature approval process from a paper-based to an oral-based approval system. Such changes were driven by concerns about improving the quality of the research student processes as part of both internal RMIT University quality initiatives and the increasing changes in the tertiary sector, particularly the concerns outlined by the federal government in their White Paper on research, and research training. This study was in three parts. The first made a direct comparison of the two systems, considering advantages and disadvantages of each. Given that research students’ experiences do not occur in isolation, the second part considered the impact on the students’ experiences of other elements of the research environment as identified in previous research. The final part considered what areas still needed to be improved in the new system. Overall, it would seem that the change from a paper-based to an oral-based approval system of candidature has been a positive change for both staff and students. This article not 178

Changing candidature approval processes

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only helps to establish what is involved in a candidature approval process, but offers some suggestions as to what might help the process to be successful.

Introduction Australian higher degree research student completion rates have become an increasing concern to Australian universities. The tertiary market is becoming more and more competitive globally, and technology has improved the access to and demand for knowledge (Devonshire and Crocker 1999). In a number of countries, governments are constantly reducing funding and requiring more and more accountability from universities (Poole and Spear 1997). Institutions in the sector are in a position of reviewing strategies and procedures in an effort to meet the pressures they are facing, so that they can be more competitive both locally and globally. The Australian government’s White Paper on research and research training—the result of a review of national strategies on research—expressed the government’s desire for educational institutes to improve the quality of research training and improve completion rates (DETYA 1999). In line with these changes RMIT began reviewing strategies and procedures within the research area, with the aim of improving the quality within the research domain. This matches a number of other initiatives that RMIT has instituted, over the past few years, in an effort to improve the quality of the service being offered. These include: Projects of Quality Assurance, Business Process Re-engineering, and the work of the faculty Directors of Teaching Quality (DOTQs). As Martin Epper (1999, p. 26) states, ‘…focusing internally on process improvement is the first step toward achieving greater competitive advantage’. One of the areas reviewed was the policies and processes involving research students—those students studying PhDs and masters degrees by research. From this review a number of changes were made within the University. One of these changes was to the process research students follow to gain approval for their candidature. In the past the University has required students to submit a written proposal outlining their proposed research and any ethical requirements that need to be addressed (RMIT Higher Degrees by Research Information Booklet, May 1998, p. 42). This proposal was then approved by a series of committees (Faculty Higher Degrees Committee, Faculty Board, University Higher Degrees Committee). This process was very bureaucratic, often slowing down the process of approval over small administrative

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matters. In an effort to provide a more relevant and immediate experience for research students, this approval process was altered by the faculty so that proposals were presented orally to a panel consisting of a member from the faculty level, the research coordinator within the school and the supervisors. A written document was provided to panel members one week prior to the review to supplement this oral presentation. These presentations were scheduled approximately six months from commencement of candidature. This move to oral presentations helps to build skills for research students in an area previously considered by the business community to be one of the top three skill deficiencies in graduates (AC Nielsen Research Services 2000). Further, by increasing the responsiveness to the business community, RMIT addresses concerns regarding the preparedness of research degree graduates for employment—a key concern outlined in the 1999 White Paper on research and research training. Such a change provided an opportunity for RMIT Business to review processes at a point in the candidature when the University can influence a student’s experience of their research degree and their completion rates. As Phillips (1994, p. 125) states, ‘there are these specific points at which work can be influenced and the quality improved’. Previous studies have shown that structuring closer monitoring arrangements into students’ candidature has been associated with improved completion rates (D’Andrea 2002; Wright and Cochrane 2000). In regard to the timing of these reviews, conducting candidature reviews early in the student’s candidature is doubly important, given findings that a student’s experience in their first year is the most crucial (Wright and Cochrane 2000). Additionally, as this process involves other stakeholders in the research student’s experience, it offers the opportunity to gain feedback from other stakeholders, in particular panel members. A report into factors associated with higher completion rates of Australian research higher degree students by the Department of Education, Training and Youth Affairs (as part of their Higher Education Series) states: ‘Milestone protocols around candidature milestones are useful; for example guidelines to be used in the assessment of candidature and statements of infrastructure support which can be expected at different stages’ (Latona and Browne 2001, p. 6). Consequently, it would seem that a closer investigation of assessment of candidature, or of candidature approval processes, would be useful for a greater understanding of successful completion by research higher degree students.


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Establishing the context Before considering the Australian context, we shall look briefly at processes in the United Kingdom and the United States. While it is unclear how widespread such processes might be overseas, a couple of studies give some insight. Phillips (1992) considers the process, albeit as part of an upgrading from a masters degree to a PhD. This is relevant because, as Phillips states, ‘In the United Kingdom research students are usually registered for a generic degree, or an MPhil and then (retrospectively) upgraded at a later date to a PhD registration’ (1992, p. 124). Phillips (1992) goes on to explain that upgrade processes vary widely from university to university, with some requiring no active student involvement and some involving formal processes which may include written papers and panel interviews on those written papers. This is not exactly the same as a candidature review process, but it does perform a similar function. In the United States the process of comparison is somewhat more difficult as doctoral programs generally involve coursework, suggesting a more structured arrangement for doctoral students (Golde and Dore 2001). To consider review processes more broadly, a study by Golde and Dore (2001) found that even annual review processes have not been uniformly adopted. Consequently, an equivalent process would seem to be used in the United Kingdom but not in the United States. To place the RMIT Business arrangement in context it is also useful to consider whether other Australian universities use a candidature review process, and what that involves. As previous studies or reports outlining such processes could not be located, a search of information regarding higher degree research student procedures was made of Australian universities’ websites to ascertain existing practices.1 Thirty eight universities were listed on the Australian Vice Chancellors’ Committee (AVCC) website. Of those 38 universities, 29 of the universities’ websites referred to the use of an approval or confirmation process for their doctoral students.2 Of the nine universities whose websites did not mention the use of approval or confirmation processes, two did have an approval process; however, it was not uniformly required and thus varied from faculty to faculty. Further, one university (University of New South Wales) incorporated such a process into their annual review process, and two (the University of Adelaide and the University of Western Sydney) had a structured program arrangement instead of a cross-sectional approval process. Thus the majority of Australian universities would seem to use some kind of approval of candidature process.

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To gain some appreciation of what the approval process involved, consideration was made of how many months from commencement of candidature the review was required, whether a written research proposal was specified, and whether or not there was an oral presentation. Of the 29 universities with an approval of candidature process, 12 required this process to occur 12 months into the candidature, and 13 universities specified that the process would occur six months from commencement of candidature. Two universities (University of Melbourne and University of Wollongong) required that the process occur sometime between six and 12 months, and one (University of Queensland) required that the process occur sometime between four and eight months from the commencement of candidature.3 It would seem then that Australian universities are quite evenly split between those requiring approval after six months and those after 12 months from the commencement of candidature. Most of the Australian universities that mentioned the use of an approval process required a written research proposal to be prepared. Twenty seven of the 29 specified that some form of written research proposal had to be prepared by the candidate for approval. For two of the universities (RMIT University and University of Technology Sydney) the specific process of approval varied by faculty. Whether candidates were required to present on their work as part of the approval process was less uniform: only 15 of the 29 Australian universities’ websites mentioned that candidates were required to present as part of their approval process. Further, the format of these presentations (where mentioned) varied from seminars to presenting to panels. To sum up, it would seem that most Australian universities use an approval process for their doctoral candidates that: • occurs within (or at the end of) the first year; • requires a written research proposal; and in about half the cases, requires a presentation. It should be noted that this brief review of approval or confirmation processes for higher degrees by research students at Australian universities only gives a snapshot of practices at the time of checking websites (March 2003). Consequently, it is unknown how long these processes have been in place or whether they have undergone any changes. A more comprehensive investigation of such processes would seem to be in order.


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As RMIT Business already has a system that reviews candidature, it is the students’ experience of this process in the panel review format that is of greater interest here. This leads to the following question: How does the new oral-based approval system compare with the previous paper-based approval system? Other factors in the research environment The factors in the research environment influencing research students’ experiences, from previous studies, will now be considered. It is argued that, in studying a candidature approval process in one faculty at one Australian university, influencing factors from the research environment must be considered in order to establish a more complete picture of candidature approval processes. Following this, the methodology will be presented, including information about the sample selection, data collection, the instruments used and the data analysis conducted. The results are presented in four sections: the details of the sample; the comparison between the two systems; the impact of the research environment; and the suggested areas for improvement. These results are briefly discussed and conclusions drawn. A range of factors have been found to influence research higher degree students’ completion rates (Lantona and Browne 2001; Ferer de Valero 2001; Wright and Cochrane 2000; Dunkerley and Weeks 1994; Wright 1992); the candidature review approval process does not exist in isolation. Consequently, simply establishing the perceptions regarding the change in format from a paper-based system to an oral-based system would seem insufficient to establish the value of such a change. To gain a more in-depth insight into what a successful candidature review approval process might consist of, it seems important to consider other factors that influence a research student’s experience of such a process. Any given aspect of a research student’s experience is best understood in the context of their entire research experience—the research environment. For example, poor supervision or poor facilities are likely to create a negative experience for research students that would increase the negativity of the panel review experience. Consequently it is necessary to identify other key areas within the research student’s experience so that the context of reported perceptions can be taken into account. As Calder (1995) states, ‘information on issues related to student progress and outcomes of study will also need to form part

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of the evaluation activities’ (p. 91). Other factors that have been identified as influencing the research student’s experience include: • supervision (Nyquist et al. 1999; Ferer de Valero 2001; Holdaway 1997; Whittle 1992); • support services and facilities (Britt and Hirt 1999; Nyquist et al. 1999; Dinham and Scott 1999; Devonshire and Crocker 1999; Ferer de Valero 2001; Elton and Pope 1992); • quality of methodology training (Wright 1992; Mackechnie and MacKechnie 1999; Wright and Cochrane 2000, Ferer de Valero 2001); • student expectations (Kam 1997; Nyquist et. al. 1999; Illing 2000); • relevance to the workplace (Cryer 1998); • the balance between work and home life (Nyquist et. al. 1999); • financial support (Wright and Cochrane 2000; Ferer de Valero 2001); and • intrinsic student characteristics (Wright and Cochrane 2000; Ferer de Valero 2001). Supervision is a key aspect of the research environment for research students. A research student’s major connection to a university is through their supervisor. In particular a supervisor provides research students with critical feedback on the direction and progress of their work (Campbell 2000). However, different advising styles are appropriate for different types of students (Kam 1997). Some students require a great deal of guidance and support from their supervisor, while others require only minimal guidance and support. Consequently, supervision issues may impact on some research students’ experiences more than others. This suggests that questions should be broad enough to allow the student’s perceptions of the importance of supervisors in the panel review process to emerge. There has been interest in the effect of support services and facilities provided by universities on the research student experience (Dinham and Scott 1999, Elton and Pope 1992). Ferer de Valero (2001) reports on a study that found that a supportive environment led to more integrated students who were more persistent. Consequently the success of students (timely completion) was increased. Devonshire and Crocker (1999) reported that postgraduate distance students faced isolation that, they suggested, increased the need for appropriate support systems to facilitate retention and


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quality of learning outcomes. This debate has also arisen in a discipline context. Due to the nature of the natural sciences, research students in this field have frequently had access to services and facilities that research students in the social sciences have not. This is important as completion levels are lower in the social science disciplines than in the natural science disciplines (Dunkerley and Weeks 1994). Thus, as RMIT Business students are social science students it is important to assess the services and facilities provided to them. It has been identified that research students require grounding in research techniques in order to conduct their research (Ferer de Valero 2001; Wright and Cochrane 2000). Ferer de Valero (2001) found that research students from departments which featured coursework oriented to developing research skills in their research degrees had higher completion rates, in a shorter amount of time, than those from departments that did not. However, Wright (1992) found a number of problems with many research methodology training programs, suggesting that research training needed to be relevant to be effective. Consequently, it would seem that it is not only the existence of research methodology training, but also the quality of that training, which is important to research student success. The expectations research students have of the research student experience affects the success of that experience. In particular research students’ expectations have been shown to affect both their supervision and learning experiences (Nyquist et. al. 1999; Kam 1997). When students’ expectations match the academic environment students would seem to have a very positive and rewarding experience (Nyquist et. al. 1999; Kam 1997). There can be problems however, if students’ expectations do not match their experience. This could be exacerbated if students are studying in social science discipline areas, as expectations may be based on a natural sciences model. More specifically, within the business discipline students that have come from an industry background may have expectations of resources based on their experiences of the resources available to them in their industry setting. As universities do not have the same funds at their disposal, the resources provided may seem poor in comparison. There are a number of pressures on universities to increase the relevance to the workplace of the training they offer to students. As the government changes funding to encourage the financial participation of industry in the university sector, there is an increasing interest in directing research towards the sorts of issues likely to attract industry groups. Additionally, there have been reports investigating how well universities are equipping students for the workplace (AC Nielsen

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Research Services 2000) and on the agreement or disagreement between academics and industry leaders on the perceptions of the skills required from a graduate (Nicholson and Cushman 2000). While, arguably, research degrees are not always desired to be of relevance to industry—some students, for example, may be studying to explore a particular area of interest, and not to gain workplace training—it is of concern that ‘students find considerable difficulty in identifying and articulating the skills that they possess’ (Cryer 1998, p. 214). Just as the research environment factors within the university impact on the positiveness of research students’ experiences, there are factors outside of the university that also influence research students’ experiences. While employees struggle with how to balance work and family commitments, the research student has an additional commitment, to study. While Bourner and Race (1995) suggest that undergraduate part-time students can help themselves to succeed by going to classes and building contacts with the other students, research students do not really have classes to attend, thus increasing the difficulties for them in attempting to balance all their commitments. Saltzstein, Ting and Saltzstein (2001) found that organisational understanding (how supportive the organisation culture was of work–family concerns) and working part-time had a significantly positive impact on employees’ satisfaction with work–family balance. This suggests that institutional support not only helps to build a desirable research environment, but also helps students to balance their study with work and family commitments. Further, it suggests that part-time study options are important to providing research students with the flexibility to work out a balance of their own. Financial support for students while studying a research degree has been found to be associated with a higher rate of successful completion (Ferer de Valero 2001, Wright and Cochrane 2000). Wright and Cochrane’s British study of factors influencing successful submission of PhD theses found that, among other factors, possession of research council funding was associated with successful completion of PhDs. Similarly, Ferer de Valero (2001) reports on US studies that found not only that financial support influences successful research degree completion, but that different types of financial aid have different levels of influence. The three types outlined were research assistantships, university-funded fellowships and teaching assistantships. Teaching assistantships were reported to be associated with higher PhD completion rates, particularly for social science and humanities students (Ferer de Valero 2001). Given that funding for


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research degrees differs from country to country, these reports must be taken within the context of particular funding environments. Finally, there are intrinsic student factors that affect research students’ successful completion of their research degrees. These factors are a mixture of demographics, internal mental states such as motivation, and ability (Ferer de Valero 2001). It has been found that ‘personal factors alone are not sufficient to explain or predict graduate student success’ (Ferer de Valero 2001, p. 342). From an institutional perspective these characteristics are important in so far as they can be influenced (positively) to aid successful completion. While institutions can influence these characteristics to some degree, it would be difficult to argue that they are the sole influence, as such factors may also be influenced by past experience with research, home and work situations, as well as by an individual’s general attitudes. They do offer some insight, however, into the reactions of research students to the research environment. Taking into account all the elements that have been suggested to influence the successful candidature of research students, it was considered important to incorporate these elements in reviewing students’ experiences of the panel review candidature approval process in order to obtain a more complete picture of the candidature approval process. It would seem that establishing the impact of research environment elements on the candidature review process provides a basis for determining and developing candidature review processes that are likely to be more successful. This leads to the following research question: What was the impact of the research environment on the respondents’ experience of the panel review process?

Methodology A survey design was used which included both quantitative and qualitative elements. Self-directed surveys were used to allow for the confidentiality required in obtaining useful student feedback. To improve the accuracy of data through data triangulation, two surveys were developed: one for panel members and one for students. Sample There were two sample groups. The first sample group consisted of staff involved in the panel review: that is, supervisors and school representatives. There were 26 staff involved in the panel review process during

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the data collection period, and all were invited to participate. The faculty representative was not included due to involvement in this research study. The second sample consisted of research students enrolled in either a PhD or a masters by research in the Faculty of Business at RMIT University after 1 January 2000, and any students transferring from a masters by research to a PhD after that date who had completed the oral-based candidature panel review process. There were 74 research students at RMIT Business that undertook the panel review process during the time of data collection. All were invited to participate in the study, thus the population the student sample was drawn from was 74. Students enrolled prior to 1 January 2000 were ineligible as they had participated in a paper-based review system. Data collection The student data was collected in four collection periods so that sufficient data could be accumulated for analysis. Data from staff was collected only once, to coincide with the first collection period and to avoid duplication. The first set of surveys was sent out in October 2000, the second in March 2001, the third in early September 2001 and the final set in late November 2001. Surveys and explanatory letters were sent out to the participants. A reminder letter was sent out approximately one to two weeks after the original collection to improve response rates (Hoinville, Jowell and Associates 1989). Surveys to the staff were sent to their internal mail addresses, while the student surveys were sent by mail to their home addresses. The student surveys included a return paid envelope to aid response rates. Instruments Two self-directed surveys were used which had a combination of open questions and rating scales to collect data. As these surveys were designed to be very specific, items were largely generated specifically for this study. Consequently, no reliability or validity statistics exist for the items. One survey was designed for the research students and one for staff involved in the panel review process. There were some questions concerning administration aspects, the role of supervisors and general advantages and disadvantages that were similar for both surveys to allow for triangulation of results. A number of questions were specifically designed for either the student or the staff survey, as it was felt that it was more appropriate for staff to evaluate some aspects of the process and for students to evaluate others. For example, staff


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members were likely to be more impacted by administrative effects of the candidature review process so there were extra questions regarding the staff’s experience with the administration of the panel reviews. Questions for the student survey were broken into three categories: personal details to provide demographics; preparation questions to assess the process before actual presentation to the panel; and questions regarding the panel review presentation itself. Generally, questions were designed to be as open as possible to allow responses to emerge unprompted from the data. The staff survey consisted of four sections: personal details; comparison of two systems; administration; and general. In the personal details section items were designed to establish details about level of involvement with research students at RMIT Business. The comparison of the two systems section consisted of seven open-ended questions designed to identify the perceived advantages and disadvantages of the two systems. The administration section was designed to focus more specifically on the oral-based panel review process, and the general section consisted of two general open-ended questions designed to give participants an opportunity to identify anything that was relevant that had not previously been covered. Data analysis As there was both qualitative and quantitative data, two types of data analysis were used. For the qualitative data the editing style of content analysis as described by King (1994) was used. Comments were sorted under question headings, then comments of a similar theme were grouped together. A count was made of how many comments each theme consisted of to establish the strength of the theme. For the quantitative data, a chi-square test of independence was conducted for the rating scales provided because of the small sample size. The results of these tests did not show any significant differences between items. In two categories, ratings of the library and confidence levels, the chi-square test could not be conducted as there were insufficient responses in some cells.

Results

Sample details The first sample group consisted of nine staff involved in the panel review. As 26 staff were invited to participate, this represents a response rate of 35 percent. Of these nine staff, five were female and four were

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male. They had worked at RMIT for a range of seven months to 19 years. Six of them had completed a PhD, two were working on their PhDs and one had completed a masters degree. There was some confusion from staff about how many panels they had been involved in and what the details of the students were (whether they were part-time or full-time). This seemed to be due to confusion between the progress review process (which had also been changed from a paper-based system to a panel review system) and the candidature review process. To check the representativeness of the staff sample, the sample characteristics for gender and school were compared with the staff population statistics. The distribution of staff respondents across schools within the faculty in the sample was generally similar to the population, however, there was an under representation of staff respondents from the School of Business Information Technology and an over representation of staff respondents from the School of Management. As for gender comparisons, while the population consisted of approximately 60 percent males only around 44 percent of sample respondents were male. This indicates an over representation of female respondents and an under representation of males. Given such comparisons, staff responses need to be considered cautiously. The student group consisted of 37 research students. As 74 students were invited to participate, this is a response rate of 50 percent. Pairwise deletion was used for missing data. Students’ ages ranged from 23 to 62 years old. There were 20 full-time and 16 part-time students. The majority of participants (83 percent) were Australian or New Zealand citizens or permanent residents (30 out of 36), while 18 percent of students (6 out of 36) were international students. Slightly more of the participants were enrolled in the masters by research (19 out of 37). There were 15 participants enrolled in the PhD program and two students who were transferring from a masters to a PhD. There were slightly more male respondents (54 percent) than females (46 percent). The majority of respondents (31 percent) were from the School of Management. The school with the next most frequent number of respondents was the School of Business Information Technology (23 percent), closely followed by the School of Accounting and Law (20 percent). There were slightly fewer respondents from the School of Economics and Finance (17 percent) and only a small number of respondents from the School of Marketing (9 percent). There were no respondents from the Transport Research Centre. To check the representativeness of the sample, the sample statistics were compared against the population statistics. The sample was


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remarkably similar to the populations, with one minor exception. The distribution across status, whether the participants were part-time or full-time, was less even than in the population, showing a slight over representation of full-time students. Research questions 1. HOW DOES THE NEW ORAL-BASED APPROVAL SYSTEM COMPARE WITH THE PREVIOUS PAPER-BASED APPROVAL SYSTEM?

To compare the previous paper-based approval system with the new oral-based approval system, comments were grouped into perceived advantages and disadvantages of each system. As most students did not participate in the previous system the comments regarding this system were compiled from the transfer students and the staff comments. The advantages and disadvantages of the new oral-based approval system came from all students and staff. Participants were generally more positive about the new oralbased approval system than about the previous paper-based approval system. Participants did think that the paper-based approval system had the advantage of offering an opportunity for building crossschool research standards. Further, it was commented that the paperbased system posed no difficulties for candidates who were nervous performers. In contrast, the disadvantages of the previous paper-based system stemmed around administrative difficulties, as participants were concerned about time delays holding up research and the inappropriateness of assessors and forms for assessing research proposals. This is illustrated by the comment that with the new system, ‘students could begin on real work not dumbing down forms’. The key advantages of the new oral-based approval system centreed around better communication—candidates had the opportunity to interact with staff and gain immediate feedback, as well as give feedback. One respondent summed this up in their comment that the panel review was an ‘opportunity for students to talk about their work and consequently feel less isolated’. The panel reviews were viewed as supportive and motivating. Further, they were thought to be quicker and more efficient (by those who had participated in both systems) and allowed for the University to check the quality of candidates’ research. Disadvantages mentioned were concerned with confusion during the panel review, and administrative difficulties. Such confusion concerned: the unclear agenda of the meeting (‘Lack of clarity about requirements, was not really aware session was a “go/no-go” meeting!’);

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the behaviour of the panel (‘They disagreed amongst themselves—left me uncertain as to what solution/direction was’); and how candidates were rated (‘The lack of clarity about whose opinion was to be put there—student, chair, supervisor?’). The administrative difficulties revealed concerns about difficulties in scheduling, equipment problems and finding the room. In regard to the administrative elements of the panel review, the responses about time length of the review and the appropriateness of the venue and facilities were mostly favourable. These were reflected in the ratings of administration, where most respondents indicated that access to administration was very good, or good. A small number of respondents commented that the panel review was too short, but most indicated that the length was appropriate. Most respondents commented that the venue was good; however, there were a few comments indicating problems with equipment, the location of the room and the quality of the room. Participants were asked to rate how easily they could obtain information on what was expected of them in the panel review. Most respondents had found some information on what was expected. While a large number of respondents found information reasonable or easily obtainable, there were still quite a lot of respondents who found information brief or minimal. This was echoed in comments that indicated lack of clarity about the agenda of the meeting and the need for clearer guidelines to be provided. 2. WHAT WAS THE IMPACT OF THE RESEARCH ENVIRONMENT ON THE RESPONDENTS’ EXPERIENCE OF THE PANEL REVIEW PROCESS?

A number of elements of the research environment were considered in order to identify anything that might be a problem to students and thus influence their experience of the panel review process. There were two main resources that respondents indicated as helpful in preparing for their panel review: their supervisors, and the research training provided. A smaller number of respondents drew on their personal experience, on other students or on material provided either by the Research Development Unit or by workshops they had attended. Respondents were asked how the research training provided helped them with their panel review. Responses were divided between comments that the research training was helpful, and on how it was not. There were more positive than negative responses. Respondents indicated that the research training provided information about proposals and research skills. One respondent commented that the sub-


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ject was ‘helpful with formats, design and presentation, lit. review methods, opps available—methods were exposed’. Respondents commented that the research subject provided them with an opportunity to practise the process, while one staff member commented: ‘student was very well prepared due in part to the practice provided in the research methods subject’. A smaller number of respondents commented that they found the subject helped their motivation, and offered an opportunity to socialise. Problems with the research training were largely problems with the content; one respondent commented: ‘I found that some of the content was misleading’. A smaller number of comments suggested that there were too many lectures, and that there was confusion due to differing views between the lecturer and the panel; a staff member still felt that candidates had not adequately addressed methodology issues, commenting: ‘candidates on the whole badly prepared for methodological and research design factors’. Rather than just obtaining a broad overview of research students’ perceptions of supervision, questions were directed specifically towards their involvement in preparation for the panel review. The first question concerned the senior supervisor, and the other the student’s second supervisor. From the students’ responses, comments could be placed on a continuum: from ‘no involvement’ or ‘very little involvement’ to ‘reviewed and commented on draft’ and ‘very involved’. As was expected, senior supervisors were indicated to be much more involved in preparation than were the second supervisors. Most participants reported that the panel review process did not seem to particularly impact on their expectations in studying a research degree. However, some respondents suggested that the process provided them with goals—for example ‘It enabled myself to set clear objectives as to what is required in the interim term (6 months) to complete the degree in the long term’. Further, some respondents offered an emotional response as to how the panel review process impacted on their expectations. One respondent commented: ‘It was a positive, reinforcing experience.’ In contrast with the general lack of impact reported, respondents rated their confidence in studying a research degree to be ‘very confident’ or ‘reasonably confident’. A very small number were unsure, but no respondents indicated that they were not very or not at all confident. Many respondents commented that the panel review process did not have much relevance to their work skills. Some commented that it provided presentation experience and some indicated that it encouraged their research progress.

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Roughly half the respondents had difficulty in balancing home, work and family commitments. Those respondents who did not find it difficult to balance, and gave a reason why, indicated that interim deadlines and the research training provided had helped them to progress. Others indicated that they did not have many other commitments to try and balance as they were full-time students and had no family or work commitments. Alternatively, those respondents who faced difficulties in balancing their commitments suggested that there were not enough deadlines to guide them through. They indicated that they faced parallel adjustment issues, such as international relocation. They commented that they had high work and family demands, illustrated by one comment that ‘I have [a] full time job plus family including demanding six year old’. Some were also doing some coursework, which they found difficult to balance with their research. To gain a picture of respondents’ financial support, the survey investigated what their working arrangements were, as well as their rating of funding provided by the University. There were four types of working arrangements indicated by respondents. Quite a few respondents indicated that they were students only; a similar number indicated that they worked full-time in the university system. Slightly fewer respondents indicated that they had a full-time career type working arrangement—one commented that they were a ‘full-time general manager’. The least frequent job type indicated was that of part-time/casual work. In rating the funding, most indicated that they did not use or it was not applicable to them at this stage of their research. Discounting those respondents, funding was generally rated as very good. A further three aspects of the research environment were rated: the respondents’ environment (study room, desk space), equipment (computer facilities), and the library. On the questions of environment and equipment, a number of respondents indicated that they didn’t use the study room or computer facilities provided. Of those who did use the facilities, respondents indicated that the environment was very good. They were somewhat less positive regarding the equipment, with the most frequent response being that the equipment was good, rather than very good. Most people had used the library and generally rated it as good, or satisfactory. Areas indicated for improvement Two questions asked respondents to indicate areas for improvement, one asking what improvements could be made to help prepare candi-


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dates, and one on how the panel review process could be improved in general. Responses to these were pooled to indicate areas to be improved. The most frequently mentioned area that needed improvement was clearer instructions for students. As one respondent commented, ‘More detailed description of what is required, e.g. how much detail to go into, what type of presentation is expected’. The next most frequently mentioned area for improvement was clearer instructions for staff: ‘ensure supervisors understand it properly’. Closely following this in frequency was the need to build a research environment; as one respondent commented: ‘We need to be involved in a truly research environment not only with our uni mates but having the opportunity to see what the faculty members do in research’. There were half a dozen other areas that were suggested as needing improvement; however, these were not mentioned very frequently. Respondents equally frequently suggested that: the panel review should contain more discussion; the audience could be widened to include other students; and the process of providing feedback at the end of the review could be clarified. One commented that they ‘prefer written assessment after the event with constructive advice’. Two other areas were also equally frequently commented on. Respondents suggested that the booking of equipment be scheduled at the time of the scheduling of the review, and that the scheduling of the reviews be carefully spaced to reflect the heavy demands on some staff’s time, and the need for students to fit work commitments around their review. The final suggestion was that the research training needed to be improved.

Discussion It would seem that these findings support the change in processes, as criticisms of the paper-based system echo the reasons for abandoning it—the slow, administrative-intensive processes. Further there is a direct implication for research students’ successful completion, as oral-based approval processes would seem to offer a process whereby institutional delays can be minimised. The emphasis on feedback as an advantage of the new system reinforces Campbell’s (2000) assertion on the needs of postgraduate students for feedback. This feedback is generally sought from supervisors; however, the results of this study suggest that other processes (such as the panel approval process) can be used to supplement the students’ sources of feedback. While candidates seemed to be happy that there was a greater opportunity for communication, the comments about confusion suggest

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that this opportunity for greater communication is not as effective as it could be. This was further reinforced by the comments concerning the briefness of information available about the panel review. While the administration was generally commented to be positive, there were some concerns with scheduling which may portend future difficulties. However, some of the difficulties with scheduling, and equipment, may be more indicative of initial implementation problems. As some scheduling concerns related to increased time commitments for academics, this is problematic as academic staff are already overloaded. Increasing monitoring process may help research students to complete more quickly, but at what cost to staff? This touches on a broader debate occurring in the academic world regarding workload management. The study results indicated that the area within the research environment that had the biggest impact on experiences of the panel review process was research training. Such findings agree with Wright’s (1992) comments that the quality of research training is important to students’ success. It would seem that respondents were largely full-time students that were reasonably confident about what they needed to do. Other elements of the research environment examined, with the possible exception of research training, did not appear to particularly impact on respondents’ experiences of the new panel review process. This study helps to develop greater transparency in the monitoring processes used by Australian universities. Given that the majority of Australian universities require their research higher degree students to undergo some kind of approval process, this study offers some insight into what that process might involve. Without a fuller understanding of approval processes and what impacts on their success, how can research managers at tertiary institutions know that the process they are using is offering the students the best quality experience? The results of our study suggest that a successful candidature approval process involves an oral presentation to provide immediacy of feedback, support, motivation and more rapid movement through the process (thus minimising institutional barriers to completion). Results indicate that an appropriately supportive research training program would need to accompany such a process to ensure that students have the skills to complete the research proposal and presentation. Further, clear documentation of the approval process, including its aim and objectives and the process used to rate students’ work, needs to be provided to both students and staff in sufficient time to enable them to adequately prepare for the review. There also needs to


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be enough support for supervisors, as they are perceived to be the main resource in preparing for candidature approval. This has implications for supervisor training and registration that need to be considered. Finally, an oral-based approval process does not eliminate administrative difficulties; rather, it changes the kinds of administrative difficulties—from time-consuming preparation of documentation and review by a committee, to time-consuming scheduling. Appropriate administrative support would be required for an oral approval process to be successful. The RMIT Business experience has some implications for other Australian universities. There would seem to be some benefit in adopting oral-based approval processes for those universities that did not indicate the use of a presentation. For those already using an oral approval system, this study allows processes to be more transparent and helps to highlight what aspects of the process may be more or less successful. Limitations There are some limitations of this study that need to be considered. While the response rate was reasonably good, the size of the sample was still small, limiting the kinds of analysis available. However, quantitative ratings tended to support the qualitative comments, reinforcing the findings. While this study gives greater insight into the candidature approval process at RMIT Business, due to the cross-sectional nature of the data collection the impact on completion rates could not be established. Further investigation considering candidature approval process formats and completion rates may be appropriate. Additionally, this was not the only change made to the research degree at the time of data collection. The progress review process was changed to an oral-based process, and the research facilities at RMIT Business were centralised and upgraded. Consequently, it may be difficult to isolate changes inherent to the candidature approval process.

Conclusion Overall it would seem that the change from a paper-based approval of candidature system to an oral-based system has been a positive change for both staff and students. Of course, as with any new system, there are matters still to be addressed. However, it is very encouraging to report such positive support for RMIT Business’ new research

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student candidature approval processes. This paper helps to outline research student candidature approval processes so that there can be greater transparency around the process, as well as indicating those factors within the research environment which impact on a research student within the first year of candidature.

Notes 1

It is acknowledged that such a search may be limited by website information that is not current, however it was felt that such an exercise would provide at least a preliminary description of Australian candidature review processes.

2

The following Australian universities mentioned on their websites that they required an approval or confirmation process for their doctoral students: Australian Catholic University, Australian National University, University of Ballarat, Bond University, University of Canberra, Central Queensland University, Charles Sturt University, Curtin University of Technology, Edith Cowan University, Flinders University, Griffith University, James Cook University, University of Melbourne, Monash University, Murdoch University, University of New England, Northern Territory University, University of Queensland, Queensland University of Technology, Royal Melbourne Institute of Technology, Southern Cross University, University of South Australia, University of Southern Queensland, University of the Sunshine Coast, University of Tasmania, University of Technology Sydney, Victoria University, University of Western Australia, University of Wollongong.

3

It should be noted that these time periods refer to months for a candidate enrolled full time. Generally it was outlined that for part time students it was the equivalent point in their candidature.

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Calder, J. 1995, Programme Evaluation and Quality: A Comprehensive Guide to Setting Up an Evaluation System, Kogan Page in association with Institute of Educational Technology, Open University, London. Campbell, J. 2000, ‘What are students in the UMPA survey saying about their pedagogical experiences?’, in Quality in Postgraduate Research: Making Ends Meet, Proceedings of the 2000 Quality in Postgraduate Research Conference, Adelaide, eds M. Kiley and G. Mullins, The Advisory Centre for University Education, The University of Adelaide, Adelaide. Cryer, P. 1998, ‘Transferable skills, marketability and lifelong learning: The particular case of postgraduate research students’, Studies in Higher Education, Abingdon, vol. 23, no. 2, pp. 207–216. D’Andrea, L.M. 2002, ‘Obstacles to completion of the doctoral degree in colleges of education: The professors’ perspective’, Educational Research Quarterly, vol. 25, no. 3, pp. 42–59. DETYA 1999, Knowledge and Innovation: A Policy Statement on Research and Research Training, Commonwealth of Australia, Canberra. Devonshire, E. and Crocker, R. 1999, ‘Making choices about the correct mix of academic support for postgraduate distance learners: A balancing act?’, HERDSA Annual International Conference, , Melbourne, July. Dinham, S. and Scott, C. 1999, ‘The waste of a PhD: The experience of disseminating the results of postgraduate research’, HERDSA Annual International Conference, , Melbourne, July. Dunkerley, D. and Weeks, J. 1994, ‘Social science research degrees: Completion times and rates’, in Postgraduate Education and Training in the Social Sciences: Processes and Products, ed. R.C. Burgess, Jessica Kingsley Publishers, London. Elton, L. and Pope, M. 1992, ‘Research supervision – The value of collegiality’, in Starting Research – Supervision and Training, ed. O. Zuber-Skerritt, The Tertiary Education Institute, The University of Queensland. Ferer de Valero, Y.F. 2001, ‘Departmental factors affecting time-todegree and completion rates of doctoral students at one landgrant research institution’, The Journal of Higher Education, vol. 72, no. 3, pp. 341–367. Golde, C.M. and Dore, T.M. 2001, At Cross Purposes: What the Experiences of Today’s Doctoral Students Reveal About Doctoral Education , Philadelphia, PA: A report prepared for The Pew Charitable Trusts.

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Hoinville, G., Jowell, R. and Associates 1989, Survey Research Practice, Gower, Aldershot, England. Holdaway, E. 1997, ‘Quality issues in postgraduate education’, in Beyond the First Degree: Graduate Education, Lifelong Learning and Careers, ed. R.G. Burgess, Open University Press, Philadelphia. Illing, D. 2000, ‘Drop-outs need more attention’, The Australian, 16 August, p. 41. Martin Epper, R. 1999, ‘Applying benchmarking to higher education’, Change, New Rochelle, vol. 31, no. 6, pp. 24–30. Kam, B.H. 1997, ‘Style and quality in research supervision: the supervisor dependency factor’, Higher Education, vol. 34, pp. 81–103. King, N. 1994, ‘The qualitative research interview’, in Qualitative Methods in Organizational Research, eds C. Cassell and G. Symon, Sage Publications, London, pp. 14–36. Latona, K. and Browne, M. 2001, Factors Associated with Completion of Research Higher Degrees’, Report no. 37, Higher Education Series, Department of Education, Training and Youth Affairs, Higher Education Division, May. MacKechnie, R. and MacKechnie, C. 1999, ‘How helpful are introductory study skills programmes? Thoughts on the experience of one programme in Hamilton, New Zealand’, HERDSA Annual International Conference, , Melbourne, July. Moses, I. 1994, ‘Planning for quality in graduate studies’, in Quality in Postgraduate Education, eds O. Zuber-Skerritt and Y. Ryan, Kogan Page Ltd, London. Nicholson, A. and Cushman, L. 2000, ‘Developing successful employees: Perceptions of industry leaders and academicians’, Education and Training, vol. 42, no. 6, pp. 366–371. Nyquist, J.D, Manning, L., Wulff, D.H. and Austin, A.E. 1999, ‘On the road to becoming a professor: The graduate student experience’, Change, New Rochelle, vol. 31, no. 3, pp. 18–27. Phillips, E.M. 1992, ‘The PhD – Assessing quality at different stages of its development’, in Starting Research – Supervision and Training, ed. O Zuber-Skerritt, The Tertiary Education Institute, The University of Queensland. Phillips, E.M. 1994, ‘Quality in the PhD: Points at which quality may be assessed’, in Postgraduate education and training in the social sciences: Processes and products, ed. R.C. Burgess, Jessica Kingsley Publishers, London. Phillips, E.M. and Pugh, D.S. 1987, How to Get a PhD: A Handbook for Students and their Supervisors, Open University Press, Philadelphia.


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Poole, M.E. and Spear, R.H. 1997, ‘Policy issues in postgraduate education: An Australian perspective’, in Beyond the First Degree: Graduate Education, Lifelong Learning and Careers, ed. R.G. Burgess Open University Press, Philadelphia. RMIT Higher Degrees Committee/Higher Degrees Unit 1998, RMIT Higher Degrees by Research Information Booklet, RMIT University, May. Saltzstein, A.L., Ting, Y. and Saltzstein, G.H. 2001, ‘Work-family balance and job satisfaction: The impact of family-friendly policies on attitudes of federal government employees’, Public Administration Review, vol. 61, no. 4, pp. 452–468. Whittle, J. 1992, ‘Research culture, supervision practices and postgraduate performance’, in Starting Research – Supervision and Training, ed. O. Zuber-Skerritt, The Tertiary Education Institute, The University of Queensland. Wright, J. 1992, ‘Effective supervision – the key to satisfactory completion rates’, in Starting Research – Supervision and Training, ed. O. Zuber-Skerritt, The Tertiary Education Institute, The University of Queensland. Wright, T. and Cochrane, R. 2000, ‘Factors influencing successful submission of PhD theses’, Studies in Higher Education, vol. 25, no. 2.

NOTES ON CONTRIBUTORS

Laura Brearley has been active in adult education for 28 years. Laura is a Senior Lecturer in the School of Education at RMIT University and is also a singer and songwriter. She specialises in creative approaches to research and incorporates multi-media, poetry, art and music into her own research. She supervises a range of research students in education, leadership and the creative arts. Carlene Boucher‘s interests focus around how people experience being in organisations, in particular, the experience of difference in organisations, women and leadership, health services management and reflective practice as a management development tool. She continues to explore ways of representing research that make findings more evocative and accessible to practitioners. She is Associate Professor of Health Services Management in the School of Management at RMIT University. Robert Brooks is Professor of Econometrics in the Department of Econometrics and Business Statistics, Monash University. His research interests include financial econometrics and research policy. In the research policy area this involves R&D evaluation, benchmarking research quality and postgraduate research supervision. Ian Cornforth is Emeritus Professor of Soil Science at Lincoln University where he was Head of School and Director of the Soil, Plant and Ecological Sciences Division. He is a quantitative scientist who has been actively engaged in advising, educating, and training the next generations of researchers for over forty years. Bill Eckersley is a senior lecturer in the School of Education at Victoria University. He has been actively engaged in the development of higher degrees by project. Currently he teaches research methodologies at the postgraduate level and supervises both local and international postgraduate students. His major research interests relate to 202

Notes on contributors

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educational leadership, collaborative partnerships, pedagogy and preservice teacher education. Tanya Fitzgerald is an Associate Professor and Programme Director (Educational Management) in the School of Education at Unitec New Zealand. Her core teaching and research responsibilities are in masters and doctoral programmes. Tanya’s major research interests include indigenous leadership, gender and leadership and the history of women’s education. Pam Green is Associate Professor and Director, Graduate Studies at Swinburne University. Research interests include research supervision, research training and management, postgraduate research journeys, professional development, and qualitative research approaches (in particular naturalistic inquiry, case study and phenomenography). David Maunders is Professorial Fellow in the School of Education at Victoria University. He supervises candidates for the professional doctorate both in Melbourne and in Thailand. He has successfully supervised research candidates at both RMIT and VU, many of whom have used action research to develop their professional practice. Elizabeth Merlot is a PhD student with the Department of Management, Monash University. Her research interests include strategic international human resource management and postgraduate research student issues. In the postgraduate research student issues area this involves consideration of quality support for research candidates. Clive Morley is Professor of Quantitative Analysis in the School of Accounting and Law at RMIT University. He was the founding Director of the RMIT DBA program and supervised the research of the first four DBA candidates to graduate. Margot Pearson is Visiting Fellow at CEDAm, ANU. She has been involved in various research projects at the ANU, and nationally, into research education and supervision since the early 1990s. Until recently she had responsibility for convening the supervision development program at the ANU and is a foundation member of the Steering group for the website fIRST. She continues to research and publish, and is the Coordinating Editor of HERD.

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Jo Reidy has had a diverse range of experiences as a teacher, educational consultant, teacher educator and now academic skills adviser at the Australian Catholic University. After completing her PhD, she has worked with undergraduate and postgraduate students from many different disciplines within the University. Jo’s research interests include critical discourse analysis and reading, novices in workplaces, and international students’ experiences in Australia. Jacqueline Rowarth is Director of the Office for Environmental Programs at the University of Melbourne. The programs involve ten faculties, over 150 academics, and research projects with many different methodological approaches. She has been coaching, advising and supervising postgraduate students for over twenty years in a range of disciplines including science, communication, design and business. Tricia Vilkinas is the Foundation Professor of Management at the University of South Australia. She has been researching leadership and its application in a variety of settings such as research supervision for some years.

Supervising Postgraduate Research:

Contexts and Processes, Theories and Practices

Edited by Pam Green Edited by Pam Green

9 781920 892326

Supervising Postgraduate Research: Contexts and Processes, Theories and Practices

ISBN 1- 920892- 32- X

Supervising Postgraduate Research presents a range of issues within the following frameworks: spaces and places for supervision; supervision within changing degree frameworks; and research supervision management and models. The text is intended for research supervisors and research students. Readers will discover a range of positions and practices within. Such variation is deliberate as it is intended to expose complexity and to encourage the reader to consider research supervision from a number of vantage points. Supervising Postgraduate Research emerged from a “research on research” conference focussing on research supervision. The contributors include experienced supervisors, successfully completed doctoral students and supervisor development program leaders. The SOLTAR series (Studies on Learning, Teaching And Research) raises issues related to teaching and learning as well as research of relevance to university educators, students, professional development staff and curriculum support personnel. The series provides varied instances where educators reflect on their own practices in terms of their respective theoretical positions. A divergence of views and practices on topics, such as research supervision, supervising postgraduate research and E-learning in the university, are presented. Further, the series seeks to encourage other research practitioners to reflect on their own theory and practice, with a view to pushing boundaries and extending repertoires as well as options.

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