Qualitative Research in Psychology ISSN: 1478-0887 (Print) 1478-0895 (Online) Journal homepage: http://www.tandfonline.com/loi/uqrp20 A rose by any other name: participants choosing research pseudonyms Ruth E.S. Allen & Janine L. Wiles To cite this article: Ruth E.S. Allen & Janine L. Wiles (2015): A rose by any other name: participants choosing research pseudonyms, Qualitative Research in Psychology, DOI: 10.1080/14780887.2015.1133746 To link to this article: http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/14780887.2015.1133746 Accepted author version posted online: 18 Dec 2015. Published online: 18 Dec 2015. Submit your article to this journal Article views: 39 View related articles View Crossmark data Full Terms & Conditions of access and use can be found at http://www.tandfonline.com/action/journalInformation?journalCode=uqrp20 Download by: [University of Auckland Library] Date: 28 January 2016, At: 14:27 QUALITATIVE RESEARCH IN PSYCHOLOGY http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/14780887.2015.1133746 A rose by any other name: participants choosing research pseudonyms Ruth E.S. Allen and Janine L. Wiles Downloaded by [University of Auckland Library] at 14:27 28 January 2016 Social and Community Health, University of Auckland, Auckland, New Zealand ABSTRACT KEYWORDS How do researchers name people respectfully in research projects? In an interview study on aspects of aging, 38 participants were invited to choose their own pseudonyms for the research. The resulting discussions show that the common practice of allocating pseudonyms to confer anonymity is not merely a technical procedure, but renaming has psychological meaning to both the participants and the content and process of the research. The care and thought with which many participants chose their names, and the meanings or links associated with those names, illuminated the importance of the process of naming. There was evidence of rules and customs around naming that further confirmed its importance both within their sociocultural worlds, and as an act of research, affected by issues of power and voice, methodology, and research outputs. We invite researchers to consider a more nuanced engagement with participants regarding choosing pseudonyms in research. Pseudonyms; anonymizing; ethics; participatory research; naming; interview methods In Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, the lovers have the wrong family names for there to be a marriage. Juliet asks, “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet” (II, ii, 1–2). Any other names but their own could have preserved the “sweet” scent of their romance and prevented the tragic outcomes of the play. In research, is the naming of participants a matter merely of renaming a rose, its scent unchanged? In this article, we argue that renaming participants—the common practice of allocating pseudonyms to confer anonymity—is not merely a technical procedure but has psychological meaning to both the participants and the content and process of the research. We consider the question, “How do we name people respectfully?” and examine data from a project (Allen & Wiles, 2013a) where participants were invited to choose their own pseudonyms. While this was a practical methodological decision, not the focus of the research project, it raised interesting issues that we share in this article to highlight questions for researchers to consider. We first note the care and thought with which many participants chose their names and the meanings or links associated with those names as evidence of the importance of the process of naming. Second, there was evidence of rules and customs around naming that further confirmed its importance, including in relation to older people who were the participants in this research. CONTACT Dr. Janine Wiles j.wiles@auckland.ac.nz Private Bag 92019, Auckland 1142, New Zealand. © 2016 Taylor & Francis Social & Community Health, University of Auckland, 2 R. E. S. ALLEN AND J. L. WILES Downloaded by [University of Auckland Library] at 14:27 28 January 2016 Pseudonyms in research Researchers are routinely reminded of the importance of participant confidentiality as an ethical requirement of research (Coolican 1990; Creswell 2013; Roberts 2015). This includes, but is not limited to, using pseudonyms or false names to preserve anonymity (Thomas & Hodges 2010). There are “classic” cautionary tales in textbooks of cases where participants’ individual problems were analyzed in such detail in research reports that they were identifiable, despite pseudonyms (e.g., the Vidich & Bensman 1968 Springdale study cited in Coolican 1990 and in Tolich 2010). There is a balancing act required between ethical prohibitions on the disclosure of “confidential, personally identifiable information” within psychological research (APA Ethics Code Standard 4.07, Use of Confidential Information for Didactic or Other Purposes) and disguising characteristics to such an extent that potentially important variables like gender or occupation are obscured (APA 2010, p. 17). Researchers’ use of honorifics, first or last names in pseudonyms vary widely, producing aliases ranging from Herr Beyer and Frau Helm (Fechner 2011) to Wonder Woman and Tricksy (Salmon 2007), from Mr. Powell (Abma & Stake 2014) to Achmed and Krystal (Mohammed et al. 2015) or Lourdes and Sofia (Gulbas & Zayas 2015). What assumptions can be made about the age, gender, ethnicity, and socioeconomic status of the person each name represents, the intentions in the choice of name, and even the research project in which they might have participated? Qualitative research methods specialist John Creswell (2013) is typical in putting responsibility for participant anonymity firmly in researchers’ hands: “A researcher protects the anonymity of the informants, for example, by assigning numbers or aliases to individuals” (p. 174). A typical consent-to-participate form includes the promise: “Your name will not be associated with the research findings in any way, and only the researchers will know your identity as a participant” (p. 153). Creswell reminds researchers that participant identity needs protection at all stages of the research, from site selection and recruitment, through data collection, analysis, and publishing. In analysing data, the “privacy of participants” must be respected by “assigning fictitious names or aliases” (p. 59); in reporting findings, the research should “avoid disclosing information that would harm participants” by using “composite stories so that individuals cannot be identified” (p. 59). Research guidance manuals and templates for ethical approval include sample participant statements such as: “I understand that the information I provide will be anonymous and I will not be identified in any analyses or reports resulting from the data collection” (Thomas & Hodges 2010, p. 94). Such manuals lack specific guidance on how to allocate pseudonyms per se but show by example the renaming of people, places, and organisations (e.g., “Hospital A”; see also Kayser-Jones 2003 for importance of renaming institutions from the outset of research). In presenting research, authors routinely account for confidentiality by making a brief statement that all names are pseudonyms, but do not say how they were assigned: All personal and place names have been replaced by pseudonyms, to protect confidentiality. (King et al. 2008, p. 85) Slight variations on this standard statement are instructive. Highlighting that pseudonyms were “self-chosen or participant-approved” perhaps explains “Wonder Woman” and “Tricksy” (Salmon 2007, p. 992) as opposed to “Mr. Powell” (Abma & Stake 2014), but we could find little elaboration of how researchers engaged with participants in these decisions. QUALITATIVE RESEARCH IN PSYCHOLOGY 3 Downloaded by [University of Auckland Library] at 14:27 28 January 2016 Debates about pseudonyms and anonymity The use of pseudonyms is a well-established tenet of good research practice, with researchers held accountable for maintaining anonymity and confidentiality, and journal peer reviewers reminded to check that authors conform to these standards (Tolich 2010). Yet anonymity is increasingly problematized in debates on research, including qualitative and psychological approaches in particular (Bickford & Nisker 2015; Thompson & Russo 2012; Wiles et al. 2008). Anonymity and confidentiality are not the same thing. Anonymity describes the degree to which the identity of a respondent is unknown and unspecified, and respondents cannot be linked to their responses; confidentiality is where the researcher can link respondents to their responses (Scott 2005, our emphasis). That is, anonymity potentially applies in cases where the researchers do not know the identity or source of the participant (e.g., online or email research, or to a lesser degree a random survey conducted in a public place), whereas confidentiality is about taking deliberate steps to keep participants’ identities secret (Saunders, Kitzinger & Kitzinger 2014a). As Saunders et al. (2014a) point out, the latter might include considering names, places, religious or cultural background, occupation, family relationships, and other potentially identifying information. There is tension between maintaining anonymity and yet producing adequately nuanced “thick” description of a given phenomenon, especially amongst a small, unique group (Bickford & Nisker 2015). Qualitative methods such as ethnography and case study where, by definition, researchers may be engaged with an organization or cultural group over a long time, mean that many will know and potentially identify details of those involved (Bird et al. 2009; Walford 2005). Research participants themselves may be a threat to confidentiality by disclosing their participation in research in ways that identify other informants (Helgesson 2014; Kennedy & Cram 2010); autoethnography can be a particular challenge in this way (Tolich 2010). Some argue that pseudonyms confer “external confidentiality” (Tolich 2010, p. 1606), masking identities only from general consumers of the research, but not from those who know the participant or their online personae well (Kaiser 2009; Roberts 2015; Thompson & Russo 2012). Pseudonyms may be “ineffective protection” (Damianakis & Woodford 2012, p. 713) since other community members might still recognize them from the words cited, and letting some use their real names while others choose pseudonyms can lead to even more identification (Damianakis & Woodford 2012). Where research participants are high-profile, well known in their community or occupation, they may be happy about being identified as having participated in the research (Thomas & Hodges 2010). In addition, there may be a desire to speak out in one’s own name, for example, in feminist research (Berkhout 2013) where anonymization within research “on” women has been seen as a form of delegitimization or silencing. The “protection” of participant identities has been characterized as a type of “paternalism” (e.g., by UK social researchers interviewed by Wiles et al. 2008), with a tension between the autonomy of research participants and greater consumer involvement in research in general and the standard ethical regulations and organizational structures. Expectations of knowledge transfer and accessibility of publicly funded research outputs, accountability to funders in showing “real world” relevance, and online dissemination in various formats can further complicate simple pseudonymization (Tilley & Woodthorpe 2011). Downloaded by [University of Auckland Library] at 14:27 28 January 2016 4 R. E. S. ALLEN AND J. L. WILES Similarly, within indigenous research, presenting pseudonymized individual voices can be entirely inappropriate. Instead, researchers are accountable to communities and appropriate cultural contexts and must consider how information is to be expressed, voiced, and by whom according to cultural hierarchies (Battiste 2008; Cram 2009; LaFrance, Nichols & Kirkhart 2012). It can be important not to have an either/or approach to the use of pseudonyms (i.e., that either participants’ real names are used or only pseudonyms are used) but to reflect on potential issues throughout the course of the research, including revisiting with participants draft reports prior to publication (Roberts 2015; Thomas & Hodges 2010) and checking on them after publication (Grinyer 2002). In addition, questions as to how members of the wider family and community not consulted about confidentiality might nevertheless be affected by dissemination of research findings, or how broadly consultation and decision making should extend, need careful, principled case-by-case consideration (Kennedy & Cram 2010). Furthermore, at the point of trying to publish research findings in an academic journal, Morse and Coulehan (2015) invite researchers to question the need for pseudonyms or particular participants’ accounts to be included at all, if there is sufficient depth of analysis to allow a distillation of key ideas or models of the knowledge gained. In contrast, Walford (2005) warns against what he terms a “spurious generalizability” (p. 90) conferred by anonymization, such that the lack of specificity of time and space in writing up the research may give too general an understanding of the issues involved, as opposed to specific issues raised within a particular socio-political context. We would argue that if pseudonyms (and participants’ accounts) were to be written out of a research report, it would be important to explain to the participants who are receiving a copy of such a publication how and why their contributions have been reduced in this way. There is also debate about anonymity within the “Internet age” (Saunders, Kitzinger & Kitzinger 2014b), where information about participants’ lives and issues are widely accessible online (Roberts 2015). Pseudonyms are used as usernames on blogs and Internet interactions; the real name of the person is thereby hidden from an Internet search or a casual read of a blog post but may be known within the community of interest (Dennen 2009). A supposedly anonymized organisation, such as a school or health setting, can be identified quickly from online promotional information (Walford 2005). There are also changing meanings of “privacy,” intergenerationally and within social media and other online environments, with debates as to whether privacy has lost “currency” among, for example, digital teens, or is still important but managed in particular ways in online environments (Saunders et al. 2014b). Thus, it is important to consider how the selection of pseudonyms functions within different methodological and epistemological frameworks, political and cultural contexts, shifting roles of the researcher and the researched, and across different forms of technology and dissemination. How are pseudonyms chosen? With the wide use of online pseudonyms, there has been some research about how people choose their online identities. For example, many use the chance to escape the specificity of gender, ethnicity, or age that may be associated with their real names (Miyazoe & Anderson 2011). Conventional “societal valuations” of gender are reproduced online Downloaded by [University of Auckland Library] at 14:27 28 January 2016 QUALITATIVE RESEARCH IN PSYCHOLOGY 5 (Herring & Paolillo 2006, p. 439), with posts apparently by males receiving more attention or response than those by females, and stereotypical gendered identities detected in language cues and styles (Spottswood et al. 2013). Pseudonyms thus may not merely mask identity but also act as a “nuanced form of anonymity” (Miyazoe & Anderson 2011, p. 184), with users making choices about whether to use a gendered or gender-neutral name, for example. Another variation raises the question of the culture or ethnonational background of participants and whether this should be reflected in the pseudonyms chosen by researchers. There are tensions between the need for confidentiality and the need for context, especially, for example, within health research, where the social determinants of diversity and culture relate to inequity (Damianakis & Woodford 2012). For example, in a study of cocaine use in Asian American bisexual men, Fazio, Hunt and Moloney (2011) use pseudonyms like Rajeev, Arjun, Hien, Miki, and Surat. They explain: All names used to identify participants in this article are pseudonyms, to protect their anonymity. However, when assigning pseudonyms, we made an effort to choose ones that reflected the culture and ethnonational background of the participants’ names. (Fazio et al. 2011, p. 637) There is growing recognition that pseudonyms have moved from being a simple way for a researcher to confer confidentiality and anonymity on research participants to a far more nuanced act of research, affected by issues of power and voice, methodological and epistemological standpoint, and considerations of the research consumers (whether institution, funder, participants, or journal reader). This raises questions about how pseudonyms should be chosen and whether they can be selected in a way that acknowledges the shift from “paternalistic” researcher allocating names to a more nuanced engagement with participants. Method The research question for this article is: How do we name people respectfully? The data reported are from interviews with 38 participants for a project on childless older people and support (Allen & Wiles, 2013a, 2014). Childless participants aged 63–93 spoke about their experiences and expectations of support, given and received, and how childlessness and growing older might interact. The theoretical underpinnings of the research included narrative gerontology (Kenyon, Clark & De Vries 2001; Randall 2007) and positioning theory (Harré et al. 2009; Harré & van Langenhove 1999). Narrative gerontology is a framework drawn from narrative theory and gerontology to examine sociocultural, interpersonal, and personal narratives, valuing the accounts of older people as important data to be collected and analyzed (Kenyon & Randall 2001). Positioning theory (Harré et al. 2009; Harré & van Langenhove 1999; Allen & Wiles, 2013b) provides ways to understand how those narratives “position” participants and others in “storylines” that range from the sociocultural to the personal. Both narrative gerontologists and positioning theorists show how the experiences we have are to some extent shaped by the words we can use to describe them. That is, they see language as “constitutive” of experience, rather than something “objective” that operates outside contextualized social worlds. How, then, might the language of naming be constitutive of experience in research? Downloaded by [University of Auckland Library] at 14:27 28 January 2016 6 R. E. S. ALLEN AND J. L. WILES The research was focused on subjective experiences and accounts of support and childlessness. It was not a participatory project to the extent of being initiated and led by participants, but rather one that drew on principles of participatory research in reflecting on who “owned” the data (Nolan et al. 2007) and having the input and participation of interviewees, for example, in reviewing their interview transcripts and in being sent annual updates regarding the research. As we considered ways to enhance partnership between researchers and participants, and as we engaged with the qualitative research literature (England 1994) and with participants, it became clear that the way we name these relationships is important. This extends to naming in research outputs. Using an alphanumeric code, for example, P1 for Participant 1 or M2 for Male participant 2, seemed unnecessarily distancing, especially as participants were receiving the transcripts of their interviews, where their very personal accounts would be linked to somebody called merely “P3.” Having participants choose their own pseudonyms seemed a helpful and respectful way of inviting some ownership and input into the research. Ethical approval for the research was granted by the University of Auckland Human Participants Ethics Committee, and the informed consent form stated, “I know that my name will not be used in any report of the interview and that anything I talk about will be reported in such a way that I cannot be recognized.” (We used a plain language format, rather than talking about “pseudonyms” and “confidentiality” and “identifying details.”) During the informed consent process, the idea of using a pseudonym or “pretend” name for confidentiality was discussed with participants. Once the interview was underway, the question of what name the participant would like to use was also discussed. The data for this article were drawn from the audio-recorded interviews, where the discussion of name choice was recorded. Interviews were transcribed by the interviewer as part of immersion in the data (Poland 1995), with notes and comments on overall ideas and themes. These related not only to the research topics of childlessness and support, but also to observations on the research process itself, including pseudonym selection. Transcripts were returned to participants for them to check and comment on. An annual Christmas card and letter updating participants on the progress of the research was addressed to their real names but included their pseudonym, for example, Dear Miss Allen (aka Suzanne). Participant feedback meetings at the end of the research included PowerPoint slides with verbatim quotations under pseudonyms. There is occasional ongoing contact as papers relating to the research are published (Allen & Wiles, 2013a, 2013b, 2014). The initial analysis of the interview data into broad topics and categories (using the software framework NVivo 8; Lavery 2009) included a “Research process” category and subcategory “Choosing a pseudonym.” This article includes an analysis of the comments sorted into this category, which were then relocated in the original transcripts and interviews re-listened to for setting and tone. In addition, a full search of the transcripts was made for any references to concepts of names or naming, including in the emails, cards, and letters received from participants in response to the regular updates received, and research journal notes made about follow-up meetings or discussions. Reflecting on comments made about naming, beyond the pseudonym discussion, deepened the understanding and findings presented in this article. Findings The findings presented here highlight lessons learnt from this decision to invite participants to choose their own pseudonyms. First, the care and thought with which many participants chose QUALITATIVE RESEARCH IN PSYCHOLOGY 7 their names, and the meanings or links associated with those names, illustrated the importance to the participants of the process of naming. Second, the rules and customs around naming further confirmed its importance, particularly in relation to childless older people, for whom social customs around naming played out in particular ways (e.g., related to marital status or heterosexual norms). These findings are also evidence of an apparently minor part of the research process being of great importance to those involved. All names used in this article are the pseudonyms chosen by the participants in the original study (Allen & Wiles, 2013a). Downloaded by [University of Auckland Library] at 14:27 28 January 2016 The meaningful process of choosing a name Participants demonstrated choosing their pseudonyms to be a meaningful process by the care with which they chose names. Many considered special people whose names they could use, including, for example, deceased parents or friends. Bertha’s mother had died at the age of 102 and Bertha had been involved in her care for many years, an issue she focused on in our discussion. At the start of the interview, the correct spelling of her real name was checked and she was then asked if a “pretend” name came to mind. R: B: R: B: R: B: R: B: R: B: R: B: R: B: Do you have a, a pseudonym that comes to mind? A pretend name? We can keep thinking about it as we go, but anything come to mind? Oh, well, just as a matter of interest, it’s an unusual one, but it’s my mother’s name – Bertha Bertha Yes Yup Do you want to have Bertha? B-e-r-t-h-a - h-a, yes Yup, yup, that’s fine I’ll certainly remember that one OK, lovely. No-one else has chosen that one too, so I shouldn’t think so, no [laughs] She did not like her name, but. Bertha pointed out the name was unusual, personally memorable to her (“I’ll certainly remember that one”) and adds the detail that her mother did not like the name. Hazel chose the name of a dear friend who had died and who was also linked to her extended family: “I had a very great friend who was Hazel and I’m thrilled because my great-niece has called her middle child Hazel.” At the start of her interview, Hazel talked about how common her real name was when she was growing up (five in her school class had the same name), and yet it was a name rarely heard nowadays; this was one of many reflections that Hazel at age 88 made in her interview on the changing times she had witnessed. Wakeford had been with his male partner for 46 years prior to his death about a year before being interviewed. First he wondered if the name of the apartment complex he lived in could work as a pseudonym, but then said: W: R: Or what about Wakeford? Wakeford 8 R. E. S. ALLEN AND J. L. WILES W: R: W: R: W: W-a-k-e-f-o-r-d OK That was my partner’s middle name, it was always a nice name Oh, lovely, yeah, and that’s a nice way to, to remember him To remember him. Wakeford described himself as still very sad at the loss of his partner and had to make himself leave the flat and go out, sometimes sitting in cafes and “people-watching.” He felt some consolation in going where people knew him “by name”: Downloaded by [University of Auckland Library] at 14:27 28 January 2016 W: So um, I go out most days, I wander out and ah, they all know me round here, of course, know me by name, which is nice. The process of naming also reflected other aspects that arose in the interviews. Nissan was a single, 86-year-old man who described himself as “quiet” and “a loner.” In accordance with his self-description, he tended to give one-word answers and, compared with some of the other participants, did not tell a lot of stories in relation to the research topic. However, his choice of name reflected the aspect of his life about which he was most enthusiastic and effusive in the interview. He said he was always keen on motorbikes and cars, he had worked in motorbike shops throughout his career, and the most detailed personal story he told was in relation to the theft of his car from out of his garage, and who had helped him with this (a neighbor and his godson). He had not chosen a pseudonym at the start of the interview, so the subject was returned to at the end: R: N: R: N: Oh, now, pseudonym, we need to think up a name for you Oh, well, say “Nissan” Nissan N-i-s-s-a-n. That was that car that I had stolen, you know. He had thus chosen a name that encapsulated both his main interest in life and also the key story told in relation to the research topic of support. There were three couples in the research, and it was evident that spouses provided many types of support to each other. They also worked together in relation to choosing pseudonyms. For example, during their interview, Ned and Kelly often spoke for and to each other, finishing each other’s sentences or introducing ideas that the other would pick up. Married for more than 40 years, they demonstrated their unity and closeness in this way of talking, in describing the activities they loved to do together, and in saying things like, “What’s yours is mine and mine yours” to each other over the course of our discussion. Ned was Australian-born and suggested the pseudonym of Australian outlaw Ned Kelly. R: N: R: K: R: Um, and we need to make sure we come up with names for you too, so I won’t forget that. So have you got a name, a pretend name, because I’m not going to write about [real names], I’m going to write about – - Ned Kelly [laughs] So just a first name would do, so “Ned” and? “Kelly” [all laugh] Ned and Kelly, perfect. QUALITATIVE RESEARCH IN PSYCHOLOGY 9 Downloaded by [University of Auckland Library] at 14:27 28 January 2016 Choosing pseudonyms based on sharing a single name seemed like yet another demonstration of the closeness and singularity of them as a couple in the interview. Another couple, Charlie and Betty, chose names together that reminded them of two loved relatives, Betty a cousin and Charlie (short for Charlotte), with the switch of gender a source of amusement to them. They spoke of shared voluntary work they did with children with intellectual and other disabilities and the significance of those children being able to learn their names: B: R: B: R: C: B: R: B: But you do get to know them and you get a rapport between you Mmhmm And I find that rewarding too Mmhmm They talk to us a lot more, don’t they? Oh, yes, yes. Now they, most of the older ones, their memories are good Right And they will remember your name. Some participants changed their minds during or after the interview when a name did not feel quite “right.” Catherine chose one name in the interview then renamed herself when she wrote a summary of the interview, wanting her account limited to what she wrote, instead of the transcript. She then re-wrote this summary further, finally feeling satisfied. She attached a note to her summary that said: Dear Ruth: I didn’t interview at all well when you visited me . . . I apologize for doing so badly . . . I really would appreciate your approval of the report I have written and now enclose. There are several points, you will see, that I do not want mentioned at all. In fact, I think there are a number of such points! I’m sure you will respect my wish. I have changed my name to Catherine! Sincerely, [real name] The care she took with naming and presenting herself in her own way and the sense she had of “doing badly” in having said things that she then did not want reported was an excellent reminder of whose information this was, and how exposed people can feel in participating in a research interview. The name “Bee” was also not the original pseudonym another participant gave. In the interview, Bee suggested her pseudonym could be her email alias, which was nothing like her given name. She was interested in the project and sent occasional emails with news items of relevance or updates on the household. We realized her distinctive email name would be immediately recognizable to anyone in the wide circles in which she moved, and suggested we should change her pseudonym for the study. She was pretty unconcerned, but agreed to change, choosing her (deceased) mother’s name, Bee. We then asked her a further question about whether she should make up a pseudonym for the place she lived in, given that informed consent was based on an expectation that “anything I talk about will be reported in such a way that I cannot be recognized.” Bee lived in an Abbeyfield house, part of the worldwide movement establishing shared housing for older people who do not need high levels of care, but appreciate living with others (www.abbeyfield.org.nz). For a project about childless older people and support, the question of where people lived and who they lived with was relevant. Bee and fellow Downloaded by [University of Auckland Library] at 14:27 28 January 2016 10 R. E. S. ALLEN AND J. L. WILES resident Fletch were enthusiastic about the Abbeyfield model. Both had happily lived alone for decades, but had made what they felt were timely moves into the shared living arrangement at Abbeyfield. We talked about whether their location should be acknowledged and they were keen that it should be. They also wanted their involvement in the research to be acknowledged in the Abbeyfield newsletter. With a maximum of 12 residents, changing over time, and only one Abbeyfield House in Auckland, it would take relatively little effort to discover their real identities. But for them, it seemed the potential confidentiality risk was outweighed by their wish to publicize the Abbeyfield approach as particularly appropriate for people without children in later life. This required us as researchers to reflect on the tension between positively recognizing the advocacy for this accommodation while also recognizing our responsibility to protect the anonymity of others in the house. The “ethnonational” issue of pseudonyms came up with another couple, where again the naming discussion reflected aspects of their relationship and the research topic. Much of the interview focused on the man’s suppression of his Māori identity within the racist context of New Zealand 70 years ago, and how his non-Māori wife, who had been involved in supporting and learning te reo Māori (the Māori language) in her work, had helped bridged some identity issues. Around their childlessness, they felt there were complex issues around their Māori/non-Māori identities when there was a possibility of adopting a child from within his wider family. They suggested a distinctly “Māori” pseudonym for him (“Manu,” meaning “bird”) and a non-Māori name for her (“Donna”), even though their real names did not show this distinction, commenting: D: M: R: D: R: But it might be wise to have a Māori name, wouldn’t it? What about Manu? Manu, yup You’re going to fly away are you? [laughs] Manu, yup, that’s fine. Donna and Manu. Some participants showed less interest in having to come up with a “pretend” name, so we would suggest their middle names as at least less identifiable. This sometimes reflected less interest overall in the research. For example, Percy was an opportunistic participant; he lived in a residential care home where another participant was being interviewed, and the manager suggested he was eligible to participate and asked him if he wished to. Percy had mild dementia and, according to both the manager and Percy himself, was able to give informed consent to having an interview. His talk was difficult to follow at times, including in the discussion about pseudonyms: R: P: R: P: R: We need to think up a pretend name for you, because I don’t want, I won’t use your name, um, so what’s another name other than [real name] we could use for you? What’s a good pretend name? I didn’t You didn’t? Have another name So, what would be a pretend name, so no-one knows that it’s you I’ve talked to? Do we call you Fred or Jim or? QUALITATIVE RESEARCH IN PSYCHOLOGY P: R: Downloaded by [University of Auckland Library] at 14:27 28 January 2016 P: R: P: R: P: R: P: R: P: R: P: R: P: R: P: R: P: 11 No. Ah, just [real name] Yeah, no, if we just, because I don’t want to call you your real name. So I have to come up with a made-up name, a pretend name Oh, yeah So what are we, what shall we choose? What was your Dad’s name? Alfred Ernest Alfred? His name, yeah Does Alfred suit you, would you like, shall we pretend you’re called Alfred? It’s just a pretend name No, we, we used to call him, “the old man” “The old man,” ha-ha Yeah. He got quite annoyed with that Yeah. [I’m reviewing his informed consent form as I’m gathering up my papers to leave, and notice his signature includes a P] What’s the “P” for, what’s your middle name? Eh? What’s your middle name? Percy Percy? Yeah OK, shall we call you Percy? Yeah. Reviewing this discussion, we are aware of being quite insistent about something that did not interest Percy, and wonder if in such cases, it would be better to let it drop, and just select a researcher-chosen pseudonym. In contrast, there was some playfulness in some of the name-choosing that spoke to the participant’s self-presentation in the interview context. Lavinia chose a Shakespearean character’s name since she was an actor, and she said she thought Lavinia was “a bitch.” She loved playing women who were “bitchy” on stage and spoke with pride of her independence as a woman who had not married but had had partnerships with men (the details of which were nobody’s business but her own). Tombie laughed as she chose the name of a neighbor’s dog, a nongendered, nonculturally specific name, for a woman who spoke much in her interview of the clash of cultures she had found as an immigrant to New Zealand in the past, in part with these neighbors. Over the years they had become friends, and the dog was part of that. Only one participant refused to suggest a pseudonym; he considered his name “John” was common enough to not reveal his identity, “Just leave it at John . . .I don’t care if people know who I am [laughs].” His refusal also seemed to relate to a negative experience he had had with research in the past, where clearly he had not been given a feeling of ownership over “his” data, or the opportunity to be named or even to know the names of the researchers: J: R: J: Oh, yes. Well, a couple of years ago, there were two or three came here and interviewed me, you know Mmhmm And they weren’t allowed to say who they were, where they were from or who I was . . . Because I tried to get hold of, contact one of them on the phone one day, and I asked for 12 R: J: Downloaded by [University of Auckland Library] at 14:27 28 January 2016 R: J: R: J: R. E. S. ALLEN AND J. L. WILES this person, you know, and then I was told that you don’t ring the university and try to find out – you know, try to contact this person because they don’t know who you are Right Or the rest of the mob don’t know who you are and you’re not supposed to tell them who they are, tell the others who they are, you know OK, so this is a different kind of a study. And that’s why I give you my phone number, because if you think of anything about what we talk about today, or just want to know how the thing’s going, or anything like that, you can ring me up and also on there is the number of my supervisor, so this is, this is a very open study, I wouldn’t like you to think you couldn’t get hold of me again And your surname is? Allen. That’s right, yeah. He told this story at the start of our interview and clearly found the lack of identity and ownership frustrating; did not like being “told” not to ring the university or that “the rest of the mob” should not know who he was; and checked that he had the interviewer’s surname so the same situation could not recur. The former study was a randomized controlled trial where anonymity and blinding served a particular purpose, but it did not seem that this had been explained adequately to John, nor had he received any follow-up or outcome information from the researchers, despite ticking the box that offered this. After some discussion we did decide to use the name he had insisted on as his pseudonym, both in research outputs and here. This is an example of the tension between “protecting” participants and recognizing their autonomy. Rules and customs around naming Pseudonymization is a rule and custom of research practice, entrenched in informed consent protocols and ethical guidelines, despite some of its complexities. John’s dissatisfaction with his participation in an RCT highlights the particular rules and customs around different types of research and the crucial importance of researchers being blinded to the status of participants. John’s sense of exclusion and hurt was more about administrative oversight than a need for different research rules; he felt he should have been informed about the research findings and should have had his telephone inquiry responded to more warmly. Customs around the use of first names, surnames, and honorifics also arose in this research. When a researcher chooses his or her own pseudonyms for participants, is there consideration as to whether or not an honorific and surname should be used or the more informal use of a first name—should it be “Mr.” Powell (Abma & Stake 2014) or just “Kevin” (Fazio et al. 2011)? One of the loneliest participants in this research, Robin, was a man whose life history was characterized by circumstances that did not support social connections, including disrupted family life in wartime, school bullying, immigration, and a late-life marriage cut short by his wife’s early death. During his interview, his phone rang and he ignored it until it stopped, saying he often pulled out the phone plug since he expects no-one to ring him, other than someone like a “telecom salesman.” The immediate clue that it was a salesperson would be that the caller would address Robin by his first name, without permission or relationship, an intrusion Robin was keen to avoid. QUALITATIVE RESEARCH IN PSYCHOLOGY 13 Daisy too described the rudeness of using a “Christian” name without permission or just an honorific, like “Missus”: D: Downloaded by [University of Auckland Library] at 14:27 28 January 2016 R: D: There was two women, Mrs. Norton and Mrs. Phillips – it was always “Mrs.” of course in those days, nobody was allowed Christian names Sure You were bold if you called anybody by their Christian name, and we were always taught, anyway, we were always taught, oh, you don’t call anybody “Missus,” nobody, oh, no that’s terribly cheeky, you know. We were careful to also check with Daisy, who was divorced, and other female participants who were married or divorced, as to what honorific should be used: R: D: R: D: And um, when I write to you, is it Miss or Ms. or? Mrs. Mrs. right Yes, I still keep my married name. Although participants had clear preferences around how letters should be addressed to them, using Mrs. or Miss and so forth, none wanted an honorific used for their pseudonyms but instead chose first names. The pseudonym and honorific discussions were often toward the end of these interviews, which were conversational and informal in style; it would be interesting to explore if this contributed to the choice. Rules and customs around naming were meaningful in particular ways to the participant population for this research, older people without children. This included the question of marital status, which was for many of these participants a necessary condition of having children. Located within the social context of the postwar baby boom and the status marked by a woman changing surnames when married, Bertha said, “A girl thought so much about changing her name and being ‘Mrs. Somebody’” and it was with some dawning pain that she saw her younger sisters become “Mrs. Somebody” and go on to have children while she did not. Also particularly in relation to not having children was the question of the naming of others in their lives. Parents use their surnames and other personal or family names when naming offspring, an opportunity not available to people without children. April and Kate both mentioned how pleased they were to have others named after them; April’s niece and Kate’s goddaughter were especially precious for carrying their names. Kate also commented that her family name, her father’s name, “dies” with her: “On my surname side of the family, I am the last. So the name dies with me, of our branch of the family.” Wakeford had a plan to not let his name “die.” His partnership with a man for 46 years was largely unnamed, unrecognized, and illegal (until homosexual relationships were decriminalized in New Zealand), yet he was not going to let their “names” die. He had established a large bequest to a charity they were both committed to, including negotiating that their names would be “up on a wall” at the institution, gaining a recognition and public “naming” in death and generosity that they had never been accorded in life. 14 R. E. S. ALLEN AND J. L. WILES Downloaded by [University of Auckland Library] at 14:27 28 January 2016 Conclusions and recommendations We have discussed issues around choosing pseudonyms that related not only to the usual practice of research, where researchers are ethically bound to protect participant identity, but also to engagement with participants over how pseudonyms should be chosen. Their thought and care with naming, including with concern or playfulness; their consideration of gender, culture, and location; and the wider social meanings of naming as childless older people and in relation to the meaningful narratives they told made the invitation to choose their own pseudonyms a useful part of both the content and process of the research. In Table 1 we outline prompts to remind researchers of the importance of naming, and some issues to consider. Qualitative and participatory methodologies look to include participants. When participants read the material researchers write about them, should they not be able to recognize themselves? Do researchers include a note with their specified pseudonym to let them know it? What gaffes might researchers potentially make in choosing names that poorly or insultingly reflect particular aspects of the participants’ backgrounds? Thoughtful naming is a way of acknowledging a relationship with our participants where there is ongoing contact; they are not simply another “Mary” or “P3” but someone who has participated in their naming and will know themselves in the works that their words have helped to produce. Limitations and next steps When returning one participant’s transcript to her to check, she expressed concern that a genuine hobby she engaged in was mentioned, rather than it having been changed to another hobby. The club name was not mentioned, but as she pointed out, if the transcript was “left on a bus” someone might just figure out who she was if they were also involved in that hobby. This alerted us to both the care required with all participant documents (voiced in her fear that somehow we would “leave a transcript on a bus” rather than keep it carefully and securely stored) and a not unreasonable fear that she could be recognized. There are many other aspects of people’s lives and connections to consider which may require pseudonymizing or protection of confidentiality (Thompson & Russo 2011; Saunders et al. 2014a). In balancing Table 1. Issues to consider when selecting pseudonyms for participants. (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) Who should choose pseudonym? How are you going to discuss this with participants? First name or surname with honorific – Herr Beyer, Miss Smith, Jenny? Gender specific? Ethnicity and culture specific? Pseudonyms for others appearing in their talk? And for places/activities/organisations they mention? What about in publications? Discuss minimizing any identifying features, including pseudonyms vs. risk of overgeneralizing/loss of qualitative specificity. (7) What is your plan for checking back with participants? (7a) reminding them of pseudonyms chosen (7b) any changes they wish to make (7c) drafts and copies of transcripts, reports, publications (7d) explanations of how their material may be included (with or without pseudonym). Downloaded by [University of Auckland Library] at 14:27 28 January 2016 QUALITATIVE RESEARCH IN PSYCHOLOGY 15 the tension between protecting participants’ identities and preserving the richness of the data (Kaiser 2009), a greater onus is placed on researchers who wish to do both. There are potential disadvantages in allowing participants to choose their own pseudonyms. For example, they may choose names of a close family member, which is potentially identifying of both themselves and of other nonparticipants, or they may choose a name that is offensive or otherwise problematic. Any of these issues may necessitate some difficult discussions and negotiation. Moreover, the process of choosing a name takes some time and energy for the participant; depending on the topic being researched or the position, availability and other commitments of participants, spending time on this process may not always be appropriate or relevant. Another issue is that some studies have shown that participants prefer to be described in relation to relevant characteristics such as gender and age range (e.g., “man, in 70s”), due to a concern that pretend names might be false, or the real name of somebody else who could then have the comments wrongly attributed to them (Corden & Sainsbury 2006). Our article has focused on the issue of participants having choice of their pseudonyms; it is part of a larger conversation about the rights of participants to choose how they wish to be represented in published research outputs, including how their quotations are edited. Acts of naming are political and personal, and as Nespor (2000) points out, where pseudonyms have previously been thought of as “devices for protecting participants,” they might in fact be considered as “strategic tools that play important roles in constituting objects of inquiry” (p. 546). Establishing research partnerships with participants is complex; we argue that allowing space to negotiate how they are named and represented in the research is a vital element of this process. We recommend researchers encourage participants to be involved in deciding how to constitute the unique scent of their rose. Acknowledgements We thank the participants in this project for their thoughtful engagement and are grateful for the support of The Hope Foundation for Research on Ageing and the University of Auckland. Notes on contributors Ruth E.S. Allen, PhD, PGDipClinPsyc, is a registered clinical psychologist, freelance qualitative researcher, and writer, committed to curiosity and its revelations. How participants in research are engaged and supported is of particular interest. She was a research fellow in social and community health, University of Auckland, for this project. Janine L. Wiles, PhD, is a senior lecturer in the section of Social and Community Health, School of Population Health, University of Auckland, Auckland, New Zealand. Her specialty teaching and research areas include qualitative and participatory research methods in health, especially in relation to rigor and critical social analysis. Care, place, and aging are also themes of her work. References Abma, TA & Stake, R 2014, ‘Science of the particular: an advocacy of naturalistic case study in health research,’ Qualitative Health Research, vol. 24, no. 8, pp. 1150–61. 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