The (un)joys of choosing your research project

Six months of our postgraduate year are dedicated to a Masters research project. The goal: to successfully design, conduct, analyse and write up an independent piece of research in conservation science. Sounds reasonably simple, right? And yet, no. In fact, one of the more complex stages of this process is quite simply choosing your research topic.

If you are really fortunate, you will see your dream project advertised by a leading academic who you have, of course, been following on twitter for several years. They will be searching for that special Masters student and you know instinctively that it’s you! However, if you are not part of this exclusive 1%, you will need to actively help the right pieces fall into place on your quest for the ‘Ultimate Project’. It requires a fair amount of inquisitiveness, organisation, direction, reflection, discussion, flexibility and sometimes, luck.

For me (if I was to humbly exemplify myself), project choice developed over three main phases. Let’s call them:

1. I want to do everything;

2. I’m going to Madagascar;

3. No I’m not, I’m staying in London.

Stage 1: I want to do everything

As my classmates will confirm, I wanted to do everything: conservation geopolitics, conservation and religion, camera trapping, wildlife tolerance, protected area uptake, bushmeat hunting, and the list goes on. Every week I had a new plan, every lecture a new calling, every day a brilliant idea that was even better than the idea from the day before. My classmates called it ‘impulsive’ but I was convinced that it was simply a bit of ‘enthusiasm’. It soon dawned on me, however, that all the enthusiasm in the world wasn’t going to be enough. I needed to hone one path, one idea, one topic.

Stage 2: I’m going to Madagascar

The first project that I began seriously developing would have taken me to Madagascar. I’ll give you three guesses as to why I chose it. I was to use quantitative data to explore the uptake of Locally Managed Marine Protected Areas in Malagasy communities. The project remained a ‘back-up plan’ for a while, but over time I prioritised building my own capacity over developing a project based purely on passion. That’s not to say that the topic didn’t interest me. It did, but it was less the topic and more the experience that I was chasing. Sometimes, that is enough. Sometimes, that is the right choice. I won’t know if that was the case for me because Madagascar fell through. We were unable to find a suitable in-country partner for the project and as such, it was time to close the door and move on. Did I drown my sorrows at the pub quiz that week? Yes. However, the loss of Madagascar meant the gain of something else: a new-found freedom. I was free to rearrange my priorities. I was free to develop a project incorporating my passion.

Stage 3: No I’m not, I’m staying in London

So, I slowed down and began to ask myself the right questions. I thought about my background, my main interests, the logistics and constraints, what was relevant and where the gaps lay in our knowledge of conservation. My background: I had graduated from an undergraduate degree in Human Geography, volunteered with the ecology unit at Sheffield City Council, lived on international soils, and I had always worked with people. My interests: conservation geopolitics, social and environmental justice, conservation and development. The logistics: I couldn’t afford fieldwork and I didn’t have time to plan for high-risk research in a foreign country. Relevance: several of our numerous (and inspiring) guest lecturers had specifically alluded to a niche, a gap in conservation that needed to be bridged. The literature supported these allusions, as did discussions with my peers, supervisors and experts in the field. The result: I will conduct a qualitative, grounded theory exploration of inter-NGO collaborations between the development and conservation sectors.

The path that led me to my topic, though long and winding, could not have finished at a better destination. Everyone’s process to finding the ‘right’ project for them is different. We are individuals with our own values, knowledge, constraints, and passions. As such, the way that we prioritise and approach project choice varies enormously. However, there are perhaps some takeaways from my experience that could be applied more generally:

1. Don’t rush it. Slow down and take your time to check in with yourself and sift through the variables.

2. First, second and third choices may fall through. That’s not the end. It’s just back to the drawing board with a better understanding and a bit more experience.

3. Prioritise in a way that is right for you. You know yourself. Do you need to be passionate or can a curiosity suffice? Do you want to develop certain skills? Is there someone in particular you want to network with?

Get feedback from your supervisor, colleagues, friends, and family as you develop your idea. It’ll help you think it through and decide if it’s the right fit for you.

Kathleen Drake