Abstract
Being able to describe how research findings become evidence is crucial in providing a justification for all kinds of research findings. However, qualitative researchers in health care, including those who conduct phenomenological research, are usually fairly modest when it comes qualifying their research findings as such. We advocate a view of evidence for phenomenological research, an approach that is rooted in philosophy of science, including perspectives of ontology, epistemology, and methodology. We suggest that phenomenology can become an exemplar for how qualitative research can make convincing arguments and thus can be better appreciated. In this article, we present a philosophical foundation for phenomenological evidence by exploring the notions of objectivity, validity, and generalizability in terms of openness, meaning, and essence.
Introduction
The endeavor in health care should always be to base decisions and actions on the best possible evidence, whether it concerns the establishment of policy for large populations or concrete care for individual patients. But how can we define the nature and quality of evidence? And does qualitative research results count as scientific evidence? In this article, we elaborate on the evidence debate from a phenomenological perspective. As a point of departure, we provide a broad introduction into recent developments.
In the last decades, evidence (in medical research and practice) is mainly defined based on the so-called Cochrane criteria (Cochrane, 1972/1989). These criteria focus on decontextualized, standardized knowledge that pertains to general populations, rather than the uniqueness of each individual person. Based on a positivistic, biomedical view, medicine is viewed as a cognitive-rational enterprise and randomized control trials are seen as the highest standard for evidence and scientific rigor (Cochrane, 1972/1989). According to Sackett and Rosenberg (1995), this development “heralded a fundamental shift in the way that the clinical bases for diagnosis, prognosis, and therapeutics have been established.” They state that research following these Cochrane standards is supposed to enlarge “the ability to track down, critically appraise (for its validity and usefulness), and incorporate this rapidly growing body of evidence into one’s clinical practice” (Sackett & Rosenberg, 1995), which results in what is widely called “evidence-based medicine.” This view emphasizes instrumental utility (Sandelowski, 2004), aiming to offer clinicians the best available evidence about the most adequate treatment for patient groups, systematic guides for clinical reasoning, and standardized protocols.
Qualitative health researchers thus have to position themselves in a worldview dominated by evidence-based medicine, that not only sets the tone in health care but in research as well (Grypdonck, 2006). This is complicated among other things by the fact that the Cochrane criteria not only introduced standards for quantitative research, but they also qualified qualitative research as the lowest level of evidence. This does not mean that qualitative research is seen as completely worthless, but as it is “mere opinion,” it does not count as scientific evidence and is not recommended to inform policy or clinical practice. As Morse argues in several articles (Morse, 2005, 2006a, 2006b, 2006c), the type of evidence that is produced by qualitative researchers is considered “soft, based on perceptions, subjective assessments, opinions, and biases” (Morse, 2006c, pp. 415–416). From this Cochrane-oriented view, characteristics such as contextuality, richness, and lengthy descriptions, make qualitative inquiry unappealing and cumbersome to policy makers and planners who live and work in a “sound bite” society (Morse, 2006c). To date, the low classification of the quality of qualitative evidence has a huge impact on the status of this type of research and how it has been funded, published, read, and implemented (Morse, 2006b).
Researchers conducting qualitative studies in the field of health care are well aware of questions such as “How many people have you interviewed or observed?” and “What measures have you taken to avoid a subjective analysis of the data?” or “What about the generalizability of your findings in view of the small sample size?” Such questions have generated the need among qualitative researchers to engage in debates on the scientific value of their research. Although we welcome these debates, we also observe a problematic trend, because assumptions from positivistic quantitative approaches still permeate qualitative quality criteria as well as the associated procedures to meet these criteria.
Here we want to mention three widely acknowledged limitations to using quantitative research as a model for qualitative research. First, quantitative approaches are population oriented: homogeneous groups of patients from the same clinical conditions are in focus, whereas in real life, many issues and problems are chaotic, heterogeneous, and “too complex to tackle qualitatively” (Morse, 2006b). A reason for qualitative research is the urge to be person oriented.
Second, quantitative approaches in health care research are mainly disease oriented, rather than person or health oriented. Inclusion criteria are mainly based on diagnoses and symptoms of the specific disease under study. As a result, deviant patient criteria are often seen as “disturbing factors” that should be excluded from the study (Bensing, 2000). In qualitative research, patients’ well-being, their capacity to run their life projects, and, for example, their individual needs and preferences are paramount. Also, quantitative research focuses, for example, on treatment and the question whether it works, but might underexpose why, for example, patients might decide to accept, reject, or modify certain treatment, and how their lives are affected by the disease and the treatment (Morse, 2005).
Third, most (or too much) health care research has a mainly biomedical perspective. Quantitative designs, for example, for clinical trials, aim to decontextualize and thereby possibly neglecting certain sociocontextual variations and complexities (Morse, 2006b; van Wijngaarden, Leget, & Goossensen, 2016b). This might lead to the undeserved depoliticization of certain diseases or disturbances that result from an individualized view of the patient’s situation. In most qualitative research, the aim is to adopt a more complex and meaning-oriented perspective that includes existential and social contexts.
Due to the considerable differences in the two general approaches, we would argue in favor of different review criteria to evaluate the quality of qualitative research. We agree with Morse’s (2005, 2006a, 2006b, 2006c) argument that qualitative researchers should underline the autonomy and value of their approach instead of trying to reach standards of quality similar to those used in quantitative research. Qualitative research has an important role as it aims to embrace complexities, existential matters, and lived experience. Indeed, qualitative research is significant because it addresses issues and problems that might otherwise be declared nonresearchable. Qualitative researchers should make a conscious effort to bring these strengths to the fore.
Later in this article, we elaborate on the strengths and the evaluation criteria of a specific kind of qualitative inquiry, namely, phenomenological research. But first we will provide some philosophical background that may clarify the evidence issue.
A Philosophy of Science View
The dichotomized view between qualitative and quantitative research goes back to the 17th century when, based on the fascination for the successes of contemporary natural sciences, a mechanistic worldview became the foundation for science. Phenomenology originated as a response to science’s one-sided focus on numbers and its increasing alienation of science with from the world by objectifying, calculating, categorizing, and conceptualizing the subjects under study. Husserl, the founder of phenomenology and a mathematician himself, criticized modern philosophical and psychological sciences for being grounded on the assumption that things are external realities to which consciousness can attribute meaning, based on its will, interest, and desire (Sá Cavalcante Schuback, 2006). As an alternative, he requested science to acknowledge, respect, and build upon human experience. His philosophy paves a way for human existential phenomena to be laid out, described and explained, to serve, among others, professional areas such as health care, welfare, and education. 1
The positivist approach of dualism, atomism, and reductionism which still dictates scientific research reduces science to nothing but quantitative research (Dahlberg, 2013). Phenomenology, further explained below in terms of lifeworld and intentionality, challenges this dichotomous separation of inner and outer worlds and provides a nondualistic, nonreductionist, and holistic view on humans and existence. Instead of reducing phenomena to a least common denominator or separated parts, phenomenology values and explores relationships and patterns of meaning in context (cf. Svenaeus, 2000).
Aim and Approach
It has been argued that qualitative researchers have failed to adequately explain their different agenda, to bring to the fore what qualitative research can offer and to explain their notion of evidence (see Morse, 2006c, p. 421). In this article, we take up this challenge for phenomenological research. Instead of considering evidence from a positivistic angle, we want to reconsider evidence from a phenomenological perspective. What happens then within the evidence-based debate? How to value the quality of our qualitative studies? What can count as evidence? What distinct qualitative research evaluation criteria should we use and how should we apply them?
We argue that high-quality, in-depth phenomenological inquiry has the potential to describe the fundamental meaning structure of phenomena, thereby providing insight into the ontological nature of reality (Svenaeus, 2000; Walsh, 2012). Being researchers in the phenomenological tradition, we suggest that—in a certain sense—evidence in rigorous phenomenological research can basically be considered more fundamental than quantitative studies defined by the Cochrane criteria. As Sá Cavalcante Schuback (2006) states, “reality is more real than its [detached] objectivity.”
Although not all qualitative research approaches have such a robust and explicit philosophical foundation, phenomenology with its roots in continental philosophy certainly does. We suggest that phenomenology provides a basis to better appreciate qualitative research in general as providing evidential knowledge.
A Phenomenological Understanding of Evidence
The theory of science that underpins phenomenological inquiry illuminates a different perspective on the evidence debate and can provide the foundations to establish scientific theoretical assumptions regarding qualitative evidence. To that end, we present a philosophical foundation for phenomenological evidence by discussing the notions of objectivity, validity, and generalizability in terms of openness, meaning, and essence. This type of undertaking is necessary if researchers who practice qualitative approaches want their results to be taken seriously and into account.
The Notion of Objectivity
Objectivity concerns the relation between the researcher(s) and the phenomenon in question. But how do we understand “objectivity”? Husserl (1936/1970, 1939/1973, 1913/1998) argues that the whole idea of objectivity is completely misunderstood by contemporary science. Within the positivistic paradigm, objectivity is associated with detachment: The world is external and the researcher attitude should be independent and value-free. Besides showing how impossible this project is, Husserl (1936/1970) calls this the positivistic reduction, meaning that science is reduced to mere “fact-minded science.” This leads to what he calls “the crisis in science,” because we do not live in such a world. Science, he argues, has thereby “lost its meaning for life” (Husserl, 1936/1970, p. 5).
Husserl (1939/1973) emphasizes the lifeworld as the foundation of all understanding. The lifeworld, he says, is “the world in which we are always already living and which furnishes the ground for all cognitive performance and all scientific determination” (Husserl, 1939/1973, p. 41). Furthermore, in slightly different ways, Husserl (1936/1970, 1939/1973, 1913/1998), Merleau-Ponty (1961/1964a, 1961/1964b, 1946/1964c, 1948/1968, 1945/1995, 1948/2004), and Gadamer (1960/1995) assert that the seamlessness of existence demands from science a thorough insight into the phenomenology of perception, and that, as it is an experience of or about some object, the central structure of an experience is its intentionality, its being directed toward something. It follows that objectivity does not preclude our involvement; indeed, we can never free ourselves from this involvement. As long as we live, we act from within a lifeworld, characterized by intentionality.
It follows that phenomenological researchers acknowledge that research starts from connection instead of detachment. All researchers have some relationship and a certain understanding of the phenomenon in focus, known from experience or through established knowledge. Researchers thus attempt to understand the world or a phenomenon as something that they are already part of. All researchers should begin with this awareness. Then, as a matter of course, to be objective in a phenomenological sense, research should not result in findings that show what the researcher wishes, (already) sees, or believes. What science demands from researchers is a shift from the “natural attitude” that characterizes the matter-of-course everyday world to a phenomenological or scientific attitude of (self) reflection. In phenomenological research, this shift of attitude has been explicated as the capacity of the researcher to “bridle” the streaming process of understanding so that it does not happen too hastily or preemptively, thus confining the impact of the ever-present preunderstanding (Dahlberg, Dahlberg, & Nyström, 2008). In other words, researchers’ immediate involvement requires that they should adopt an open, wondering phenomenological attitude that “slackens the intentional threads which attach us to the world and thus brings them to our notice” (Merleau-Ponty, 1945/1995, p. xv).
Dahlberg et al. (2008) and Finlay (2011) describe this phenomenological open attitude as one that is led by the phenomenon and an ongoing curiosity about it, “not making definite what is indefinite still” (Dahlberg et al., 2008). It is a “dance between striving for reductive focus and reflexive self-awareness” (Finlay, 2008, p. 8), a process of retaining wonder and openness to the world while reflexively restraining preunderstandings. Such thorough reflectivity helps to problematize the natural attitude, to slacken the firm intentional threads that tie us to the world, but it should be absolutely clear that we can never cut them off, or overcome our own subjectivity (Spence, 2016). In life—and thus in (all forms of) science—there is no dichotomy between subjectivity and objectivity. There is only a dynamic in-between. In the words of Gadamer (1960/1995), this open attitude includes a kind of sensitivity which
. . . involves neither “neutrality” with respect to content nor the extinction of one’s self, but the foreground and appropriation of one’s own fore-meanings and prejudices. The important thing is to be aware of one’s own bias, so that the text can present itself in all its otherness and thus asserts its own truth against one’s own fore-meanings. (pp. 268–269)
For researchers, this means that one needs to know how this attitude of alert, self-aware, and reflective openness can be practiced, and how we can see the phenomenon under study, while being aware of our perceptive lenses all through the research (Spence, 2016). A common mistake is to see the phenomenological attitude as something to be engaged in only at the beginning of the research. However, inquiry is a continuous beginning (cf. Merleau-Ponty, 1961/1964a), that is, from the first identification of research focus to the presentation of findings. It is thus not merely about “bridling” the preunderstanding that leads us to the study, but about “bridling” our understanding as a whole, all through the researching activity. The challenge for the researcher is to find a way to continuously remain open to new understandings as well to one’s own interpretation.
To reach objectivity in a phenomenological sense, every researcher should therefore focus on discovering that she or he was wrong, that she or he did not know at all. In Gadamer’s (1960/1995) words, “the otherness” of the phenomenon requires exploration of the difference from what one already knows. Besides the ongoing use of a reflective journal we, like Spence (2016) among others, have experienced that it is indispensable to engage in ongoing dialogue with other researchers as this helps to reduce blind spots and challenges us to see the phenomenon and one’s evolving understandings “with new eyes.”
The Notion of Validity
Certainly, health research has to be valid as patients, clients, health professionals, and students—among others—largely rely on the fact that scientific knowledge (that guides professionals) is legitimate, not only in general terms but also more specifically with regard to their own well-being and/or professional practice. This places a huge responsibility on researchers when it comes to validity and reliability (Dahlberg, 2014). Actually, validity is a fundamental cornerstone of science.
In research, validity is commonly described as the degree to which a scientific study measures what it intends to measure: Does it actually measure the concept it is supposed to measure? And if repeated, is the measuring (instrument) consistent and reliable? Does it give the same measurement under the same circumstances? Clearly, this view comes from a positivistic paradigm, assuming that the world is stable and that one can take a detached, external, and independent position toward that stability. We assume, however, that human existence cannot be meaningfully understood from such a detached position. In the words of Polkinghorne (1986),
The traditional notions of validity and reliability in research design imply a system of concepts that is stable, context-free, and clearly delineated from one another, yet human existence points toward a conceptual system that changes, is context-dependent and is organized around prototypical instances. (p. 129)
In line with Polkinghorne, we believe there is no traditionless, history-free, or in other ways context-free research in any form of science (Dahlberg et al., 2008, p. 339); detached objectivity is a delusion. It follows that knowledge should not be dissociated from life and experience. This brings us to the following questions: How can we understand validity in a way that is consistent with phenomenology? How can we rethink validity in a way that supersedes this dualism in scientific traditions? What determines sound validity from a phenomenological perspective?
Polkinghorne (1988) states that validity refers to “well-grounded and supportable” findings and conclusions. However, he adds, human science is not a system limited by closed reasoning and formal logic. While having the capacity to resist challenge or attack, conclusions always remain open-ended (Polkinghorne, 1986, 1988, 2007) Importantly, this should not be seen as a flaw in research or its evidential character; instead, it should be seen as a principal characteristic of human nature and thus of (human science) research.
From a phenomenological perspective, research should be meaning-oriented. As Merleau-Ponty (1945/1995) states in his famous preface, “Because we are in the world, we are condemned to meaning” (p. xix). In phenomenological research, validity is thus associated with meaning, and researchers need to know the difference between content and meaning, for example, in a narrative. Researchers also need to find out how it is epistemologically and methodologically possible to understand the deeper meanings of the lifeworld. As researchers, we do not refer to “what” people say (content analysis or opinion research); rather, we attempt to refer to how they interpret what is meaningful in their lives.
An example may help: Several participants in a study into the wish to die of older people free of mental or terminal illness, cogently talked about ideating on a self-chosen death. They said they preferred to die quickly to spare themselves decline and suffering. In the participants’ words, “I want to die at the right moment.” At first sight, it seemed they were ideating on a so-called balance-suicide or rational suicide: After cognitively weighing the pros and cons, they came to the conclusion that they were better off dead. However, when the participant and the researcher talked about lived experience (and not about their opinions or intentions), their situation seemed to be far more ambivalent. They also told stories about postponing death, and lingering hope that life might still have something to offer. Indeed, by listening very carefully and by talking about events in everyday life, these older people turned out to be “caught” between ideating on a self-chosen death and actually performing one. The liminality of this in-between period has been characterized as an existential, appealing dilemma after a putatively coherent decision was made (van Wijngaarden, Leget, & Goossensen, 2016a).
The above example illustrates the phenomenological focus on the questions being researched: the importance of relating to the participants in ways that support their return to their ordinary life experiences (van Manen, 2017a, 2017b) and their reflections on them. The main emphasis in research is not on the informants and what they express, but on the meaning structure of the phenomenon (Dahlberg et al., 2008; van Manen, 2017a). Such a nuanced focus makes huge difference in all forms of qualitative research. Wanting to illuminate meaning is, however, not that easy. Meaning is always contextual, as Merleau-Ponty (cf. 1948/1968; 1945/1995) strongly argues in several texts. Consequently, researchers should address contextuality when presenting their conclusions. We will address the issue of contextuality in the next section.
The Notion of Generalization
All kinds of research have generalization challenges. For example, in statistic research, all findings are related to populations and systems. As a consequence, both researchers and practitioners must complete the process with interpretive work for them to relate the conclusions to a distinct individual, be it a patient, a client, or a student, within her or his unique context (Thorne & Sawatzky, 2014). It follows that every researcher should think through the notion of generalizability. In this regard, there is no radical difference between the concepts of generalization in qualitative or quantitative research. The interpretation and assessment of generalizability is based on underlying ontological, epistemological, and methodological assumptions (Dahlberg, 2014; Dahlberg et al., 2008).
However, the impact of qualitative research findings—and in particular of phenomenological research—is often played down, based on the argument that the study sample is too small to allow for confidence in the generalizability of findings. Indeed, it has been argued that generalization and theory development do not belong to phenomenological research at all. We disagree, and we encourage phenomenological researchers not to accept that such research results only relate to those few who participate in the studies. Research results should be of a kind that can be generalized, that is, they should be meaningful to more people than just those involved in the study. Phenomenological inquiry wants to reach knowledge that goes beyond concrete individuals (Dahlberg et al., 2008; Halling, 2010; Svenaeus, 2000; van Manen, 2014, 2017a). All qualitative researchers can make convincing arguments about the generalizability and the transferability of their findings.
Instead of presenting fragmented results such as “themes” or “categories” without clarifying what they are parts of (which demonstrates another example of a positivistic remnant), a phenomenological study aims to present “an essence,” “a general structure of meaning” or another way of presenting both structure and texture of the phenomenon under research (Dahlberg, 2006; Dahlberg et al., 2008). This essence refers to a common thread through the variety of participants’ experiences. It illuminates the very character of the phenomenon “without which it would not be that specific phenomenon” (Dahlberg, 2006). The aim to provide such an essential meaning structure—and thus no separate categories—is really a core-strength of phenomenological inquiry in comparison with other qualitative studies. Furthermore, a description of an essential meaning structure obviously implies a certain generalizability of the findings, otherwise it would not be essential.
While there are also distinct differences between phenomenology and grounded theory (Creswell & Creswell, 2007; Starks & Brown Trinidad, 2007), we suggest that a well-developed “core category” in grounded theory might also be in line with such an essential phenomenological description. A core category in grounded theory is also a fundamental, empirically well-grounded, patterned description that can best explain the problem that the people under research are dealing with. Moreover, in phenomenology as well as in grounded theory, researchers should never force the experiential data to generate such outcomes. Rather, mindful openness should let outcomes emerge from data.
To make things more complicated, while phenomenological research strives to describe the essential meaning of the phenomenon under research, it is also clear that meaning should always be viewed as contextual and infinite. This idea of contextuality might seem to compromise the generalizability claim. However, a full description of the meaning structure of the phenomenon contains both essential, general meanings (i.e., structure) and meaning nuances (i.e., texture), such as quotes from interviews, which reveal the variations (Todres, 2007). A full description of an essence should always be accompanied by an analysis of particularities, nuances, and unique contextual variations in the meaning of the phenomenon. It is this full structure of both generality and particularity that should say something new and enhance our understanding of the specific phenomenon under research.
Merleau-Ponty (cf. 1961/1964b, 1948/1968, 1945/1995) has demonstrated how every generality is already present in particular meaning, and every particular meaning is present in the generality. Particularity and generality, uniqueness and sameness, is a natural paradox within being and of the lifeworld. There is thus no dualism between particularity and generality; they are of each other. Instead of allowing for polarization of that which belong together, we should embrace the complexity of understanding, which in fact is founded in the complexity of existence, the intricate web of life, where meaning recognizes the in-between (Dahlberg, in press). In phenomenological research and, we argue, in all qualitative research, it is thus necessary to move between particularity and generality, between the most concrete and lived personal expressions and the more general meanings (Dahlberg, 2006).
It follows that phenomenological truths should not be understood as “final and law-like absolutes” and “conclusive distinctions between the true and the false” (Halling, 2010; Todres, Galvin, & Dahlberg, 2007; van Manen, 2014). Instead, phenomenologically understood truth should be considered “possibilities around which unique variations and actualities can occur”; an “on-going conversation which is never finished and depends on questions and context” (Todres et al., 2007, p. 58).
Given these considerations, it follows that phenomenological inquiry does not aim at logically valid deductive conclusions it seeks to provide plausible and inceptive insights into the primal meaning structures of lived experiences. Subsequently, phenomenological truths and thus phenomenological evidence are ambiguous and never complete (van Manen, 2014). In this context, generalization is thus not understood as universal, factual, and/or quantitative generalization, but as an “existential generalization” (van Manen, 2014).
Furthermore, the term transferability can help to better understand the idea of generalization in qualitative research. It means that results, for example, descriptions of general structures of meaning, interpretations of meanings, or theories are applicable within different settings. This understanding of generalization is advocated by Gadamer (1960/1995) in his use of the term anwendung, which in English is usually translated as “application” even if usability would be a better translation. According to this idea, generalization is a question of how research findings can come into play, how they can be used and practiced, based on coherent and logical reasoning of the limitations for applicability.
An Example: The Sociocultural Situatedness of a Wish to Die
To make it more concrete, we will now apply this phenomenological notion of generalization to a Dutch research project on older people who considered their lives to be completed and no longer worth living (van Wijngaarden, 2016). Participants were 25 Dutch mentally competent older people (mean age: 82 years) without evidence of a terminal or mental illness. Open, exploratory phenomenological interviews were conducted to study the phenomenon from an insider-perspective. Emphasis was placed on how the phenomenon “life is completed and no longer worth living” was lived in everyday life. In Box 1, a short description of the essence and its constituents is provided.
Description of an Essence and Its Constituents
The essence of the phenomenon “life is completed and no longer worth living” can be understood as “a tangle of inability and unwillingness to connect to one’s actual life,” characterized by a permanently lived tension: Daily experiences seem incompatible with people’s expectations of life and their idea of who they are. While feeling more and more disconnected from life, a yearning desire to end life at a self-chosen moment is strengthened, explicated in its five constituents.
• The first constituent is a profound sense of existential loneliness; older people feel separated from others. While in some cases there are still contacts, those contacts are becoming increasingly sporadic and do not compensate lonely feelings anymore. Despite people being around, they feel a lack of reciprocity and support.
• The second constituent is the pain of not mattering; older people feel side-tracked. They view themselves as dispensable, redundant and no longer important to people or society.
• The third constituent is the growing inability to express oneself. They are no longer able to carry out the activities they were committed to during life. The loss of these identifying activities means a loss of the self.
• The fourth constituent is existential and physical fatigue. Some are tired due to physical age-related problems, but in many cases, there is also an experience of existential weariness and boredom. People felt old and full of days.
• The fifth constituent is a sense of aversion toward feared dependence. This refers to the fear of not being in control, the uncertainty whether others will guard your interests if you are dependent on them. Participants expressed a deep shame for and disgust toward their own deterioration. For most, there seemed to be only one desirable option to retain control: a so-called “flight-forward” to stop this “humiliating process” as quickly as possible through a self-chosen death.
While the description in Box 1 articulates an essential meaning structure, these results also reveal sociocultural situatedness. First, participants were all part of the Western society where the success of medical technology, among other things, has prolonged life, aging, and dying. However, old age is often increasingly accompanied by physical and mental age-related problems, which might threaten meaning and purpose (Kellehear, 2007). It is argued that longevity and accompanied age-related problems have constituted the awareness of determining time and manner of death and dying in the whole Western world (Kellehear, 2007; Seale, 2000). Second, all participants were part of the Dutch society in which euthanasia and physician-assisted suicide are legalized under strict requirements laid down in the Dutch Euthanasia Act (2001). For all participants, the self-chosen death has therefore become a more concrete option and does not primarily refer to a (pathological) suicide.
This specific sociocultural situatedness has certainly influenced the findings. For example, people might feel more comfortable discussing a wish for a self-chosen death. And perhaps feelings of meaninglessness might result in expressing a wish for a self-chosen death more quickly in the specific Dutch context. Consequently, the results might not be readily transferable to older people from other cultures or societies. However, we also think that the results do provide insight into the struggle with aging, the search for meaning in old age and the wish to die, which is present in many older people in Western societies. So we think that the insights from this study provide a thorough understanding of the phenomenon “life is completed and no longer worth living,” which is well-grounded in the lifeworld of elderly people. On the existential level, the findings can be generalized to other contexts in the Western world. The results give insight into how life is lived when life is considered to be no longer worth living, while they are also sensitive to the unique nature of human existence.
Another important issue with regard to the question of generalizability is how the group of participants was composed. Some authors argue that the term sampling lacks coherence within phenomenological research as it might presuppose that one aims at “empirical, factual generalization” from a sample to a population (cf. van Manen, 2014). Although acknowledging this is a valuable point, the notion of purposive sampling in the mentioned Dutch project was used in a manner that is consistent with phenomenological assumptions (van Wijngaarden, Leget, & Goossensen, 2015). Following the philosophy of Husserl (1913/1998), experiential data 2 in phenomenological research should be characterized by variation and information richness of cases, which is more likely to occur in a heterogeneous sample. The more variations the data reveal, the more likely it is to see patterns of essential meanings and how a phenomenon is constituted. The more essential meanings there are to display, the more likely some form of (existential) generalization can be discerned. Therefore, to reach an existential generalization, experientially rich descriptions should be gathered and explored. This can be explained from the ontological and epistemological idea that meanings are infinite, and always expanding and extending.
Thick descriptions of the experiences and background information allow readers from other countries or cultures to gain a deeper understanding, and enables them to compare the experiences with experiences they have seen emerge in other situations. Based on these descriptions, they can conclude whether the provided meaning structure of the phenomenon gives insight into life-as-it-is-lived in terms of an existential generalization.
Conclusion
The prevailing scientific conception of evidence in health research is derived from positivism, and the ideal is quantitative knowledge. Objectivity, validity, and generalizability are usually associated with detached, value-free, decontextualized, standardized knowledge that pertains to general populations, rather than the existentials of each individual person that all health research sooner or later should relate to. In this view, phenomenological findings are considered to be of some importance, but not sufficiently scientific to provide an evidential basis for policy or practice.
In this article, we have argued that we sharply disagree with the idea that qualitative research provides nonevidential knowledge, and we have revealed the assumptions upon which such ideas are based. Moreover, we have argued that a rigorous phenomenological study has the potential to provide insight into the ontological and epistemological nature of reality, and in a way that better meets the evaluation requirements for robust research. Furthermore, we have shown that looking at (and consequently researching) health care as a meaningful practice is obviously different from viewing it as a cognitive-rational enterprise, namely, that “it is more likely to not lose sight of the fact that human living is an unfolding narrative in which meaning rather than measurement is appropriate currency of understanding” (Todres, 2002, p. 3).
Finally, we suggest that phenomenology can become an exemplar for how qualitative research in general can make convincing arguments and thus be better appreciated. With this article, we recommend that qualitative researchers working with other methodologies also (re)consider the notion of evidence on the basis of its ontological and epistemological foundation.
In summary, we argue in favor of recognizing
the need to be true to epistemological assumptions and corresponding quality standards instead of trying to reach standards of quality similar to those used in quantitative research.
the impossibility of detached objectivity in research.
the value of lifeworld knowledge as essential and fundamental for health care practice.
a holistic nondualistic approach to life that embraces the complexity of existence.
the value of the search for an essential, general structure of meaning, rather than fragmented results such as “themes” or “categories” without clarifying what they are parts of.
contextuality and intentionality as indispensable to understanding phenomena in human science.
Recognizing these aspects will contribute to robust qualitative research that has the potential to provide qualitative evidence, which is crucial and indispensable for practice and policy.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
We thank Kate Galvin for her comments on a previous version of this article.
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
