Leadership for Researcher Development: What Research Leaders Need to Know and Understand

Abstract

Research leadership, a much neglected area of educational leadership and management, is disadvantaged by having an underdeveloped and inadequate knowledge base. This article represents a contribution to this knowledge base through a conceptual analysis. It presents as propositional knowledge an original theoretical model of the componential structure of researcher development, as interpreted and defined stipulatively by the author. Three key components are identified: behavioural development; attitudinal development; and intellectual development. Each of these is further deconstructed to reveal its sub-components, of which 11 in total are identified, including: processual change; perceptual change; analytical change; and comprehensive change. Drawing upon examples of qualitative data found in the literature, the author demonstrates the model’s potential as an analytical framework for enhancing our understanding of what researcher development is and how it occurs. This, she argues, represents knowledge that is invaluable to university-based research leaders. In particular, it is important that research leaders recognize the width, multidimensionality and complexity of researcher development: that it is much more than changing observable behaviour and increasing productivity and output; it also involves changing viewpoints, mindsets and perceptions and increasing intellectual capacity.

Keywords

academic development professional development research assessment exercise (RAE)research capacity researcher research excellence framework (REF)research leadership

Introduction

Research leadership is something of a niche topic within the study of educational leadership and management. It receives scant attention, much of which comes its way almost incidentally, by virtue of its being included within the higher education leadership and management package. However, considering that higher education currently remains one of the least examined contextual fields within the study of educational leadership and management, it is easy to see how one of its sub-fields, being located even further down the line from the main action, suffers more acutely from an ‘attention deficit’. The consequences of this are research leadership’s underdeveloped scholarship coupled with its relatively emaciated knowledge base.

Yet if ever there was a time when a robust research leadership knowledge base is needed, it is now. For as the finish line of the Olympic marathon that is the research excellence framework¹ (REF) looms large on the horizon, leaders and managers in universities across the UK are working up a sweat in the research activity arena, seeking the winning formula that will push their teams and individual star performers ahead of those representing every other university.

But what is this formula? We know what it is from the perspective of meeting the REF requirements: a demonstrably vibrant institutional research environment that has yielded exceptionally high quality research output whose wider impact is evident. The Higher Education Funding Council for England (HEFCE) outlines how quality will be measured:

The outcomes of the overall assessment will be fine-grained enough to identify excellence wherever this may be found. Panels will produce a sub-profile for each element (outputs, impact and environment), to be combined into an overall excellence profile. The profiles will show the proportion of submitted work at each point on a five-point scale (1* to 4* plus Unclassified). (HEFCE website, accessed 10 April 2010)

However, it is one thing to know and be familiar with the procedures that will be applied; it is quite another thing to know and understand how to excel in meeting their requirements. In terms of the nature and form of human agency that it involves, the winning formula is more elusive.

On paper it is straightforward: as many academics as possible within the institution need to write the requisite number of what will be deemed high quality articles or books and ensure that they are in the public domain before the census date. Everyone needs to raise their game and move up a gear: those not entered in the 2009 research assessment exercise (RAE) because they failed to produce enough publications of the requisite quality must be enterable in the REF; those whose output averaged less than 3* need to reach or exceed a 3* average; and those with 3* averages should pull out all the stops to strive for 4* quality output.² It is the management of this, along with the creation of an image of a vibrant research environment, that institutional research leaders and managers are sweating over.

And sweat they might, for whilst it may appear simple and straightforward on paper, securing such performance is in reality far from formulaic. It is a precariously inexact and imprecise endeavour because it involves directing and orchestrating the variability, idiosyncrasy and consequent complexity that is human agency. This, of course, is true of all educational leadership. But what distinguishes research leadership is that, in comparison with ‘mainstream’ educational leadership (by which I mean leadership that is contextually located within schools and colleges and that involves leading the education sector’s biggest combined group of employees: schoolteachers and college lecturers) its focus and object – research and researchers, and the interaction between the two – remain relatively unexplored. Whilst there is certainly a growing research-informed body of literature relating to it (for example, Åkerlind, 2008; Coleridge et al., 2004; Drnach, 2002; Fairweather, 2002; Fox, 1992; Fox and Mohapatra, 2007; Hemmings et al., 2007; Manathunga et al., 2007; Rath, 2009; McGrail et al., 2006; Wimsatt et al., 2009) we know considerably less about how researchers (particularly academics as researchers) conduct their work and what attitudes they hold towards it, and about the nature of their development and the process(es) whereby it occurs, than we know about parallel issues relating to teachers and their work. This represents an epistemological imbalance within the wider educational leadership and management field. Moreover, research emanating from Europe, and relating to European contexts, is underrepresented. Notwithstanding the valuable contributions to the knowledge base made by some Europeans (for example, Abramo et al., 2009; Deem and Lucas, 2007; Gordon, 2005; Rees et al., 2007) the bulk of the literature seems to be supplied by American and Australasian authors.

This article is intended as a small contribution towards redressing this imbalance. Reflecting my contention that effective leadership and management involves understanding the processes and structures that leaders and managers need to oversee or manage, I propose a conceptualization of researcher development that highlights its breadth and complexity. Alongside this I introduce my perspectives on the researcher development process. Both are intended to augment the knowledge base upon which research leaders in any national context may draw, first, by clarifying what may be understood by ‘researcher development’, and, second, by explaining how this occurs in individuals. I begin with the first.

What Is Researcher Development?

Lee et al. (2010: 308) suggest that the broad field of academic development is now fairly established and secure:

… in a sense its moment has come… . Its professional and intellectual maturity is marked by a range of scholarly activities: an international association and journal and a new scholarly self-reflexivity… . In Bernstein’s … terms, it has created itself as a new ‘region’ of knowledge and practice.

Whilst no such claims may be made for researcher development, there are signs that it is beginning to emerge as a field or sub-field of study with its own identity, distinct from that of one of its parent fields, higher education. Indeed, Tight (2008: 596) identifies the latter, higher education research, as ‘a developing field of study’, which ‘could be conceived of as a partially explored territory through which a variety of tribes traverse’. We may think of the narrower, more recently emerged and hence more ‘developing’, researcher development as one such tribe – or, to be more precise, the territory of the ‘tribe’ of researchers for whom it represents a shared interest. The launch of the International Journal of Researcher Development in 2008 represents a significant marker of this new region, but conceptually it remains unchartered terrain, for the question of what is meant by ‘researcher development’ has scarcely been scrutinized in a scholarly manner. Not only is there lack of definitional consensus, but there is also an acute shortage of suggested definitions from which to draw consensus or debate differences. Indeed, I have found no explicit stipulative definition of researcher definition. Let me therefore start the ball rolling.

I define researcher development very broadly and succinctly, as: the process whereby people’s capacity and willingness to carry out the research components of their work or studies may be considered to be enhanced, with a degree of permanence that exceeds transitoriness. The words ‘may be considered to be’ are intended to convey my interpretation of any form of development as subjectively determined, in accordance with different needs, interests and agendas; what a university’s strategic management team may consider to be researcher development may be quite different from interpretations of it held by individual academics, or academic development professionals.

My use of the word ‘people’ rather than ‘researchers’ is intended to convey inclusiveness: researcher development is not only about making researchers better at researching, it is also about transforming into researchers people representing other constituencies. I choose the word ‘capacity’ rather than alternatives such as ‘skills’, ‘knowledge’, ‘attitudes’, ‘understanding’, ‘competence’ or ‘procedures’ not only because it encompasses all of these – and more (McIntyre and McIntyre, 1999) – but also because it implies the incorporation of consideration of externally imposed or externally derived factors, such as resources or academic freedom or (professional) status, whose improvement or enhancement contributes to defining the contextual dimension of researcher development. My reference to people’s ‘willingness’ to undertake research is perhaps superfluous, given that I interpret capacity as including this, but I include it explicitly to factor in the importance of motivation and attitudinal preparedness.

But a conceptual analysis involves more than the presentation and explanation of a stipulative definition. It involves examining the very essence of the concept in question: what is conceived as its substance, or its quiddity.³ It is this that I analyse in the next sub-sections.

Essence, Substance and Quiddity

In communicating my conceptualization of researcher development I find it impossible to choose between the terms ‘essence’, ‘substance’ and ‘quiddity’; all are equally applicable. Indeed, without applying strict philosophical interpretation of their nomenclature (which I do not consider necessary for the purpose of advancing or clarifying my argument in this paper) it is difficult to distinguish between them. They all connote (getting to) the core of what is the nature and form of this ‘thing’ – this concept – that is researcher development. I therefore use them interchangeably here.

Researcher development, as I define it, is essentially development for researchers or aspiring or potential researchers. It is a bi-partite concept: relating, rather obviously, to ‘researcher’ and ‘development’. Having clarified my broad interpretation of the ‘researcher’ part, here I move on to examination of the ‘development’ part.

In some respects the development in question may be considered professional development. Conversely, this adjective’s etymological link with professions and professionals may be considered to preclude its applicability to researcher development on the grounds that research(ing) is not necessarily and universally accepted as a profession (see, for example, Evans, 2008). Linked to this, according to my definition of it, researcher development may occur in or apply to people who are not necessarily or conventionally recognized as professionals, not least since they may not be in paid employment. Moreover, in the context of the academic development field and its community within the post-Roberts UK higher education sector, whose focus is on early career researchers and research staff, researcher development is widely interpreted as incorporating both ‘professional’ and ‘personal’ development. The complex ecologies of people’s lives are becoming increasingly recognized as the fusion and, in some cases, inseparability, of work and personal life. Development that occurs in a professional or work context, and that enhances one’s capacity to undertake one’s work, must inevitably impinge upon or influence the attitudes, viewpoints, knowledge, understanding, and skills that may be applied to one’s life as a whole, and vice versa: a point that is implicitly incorporated into Eraut’s (2004) argument about workplace learning. My conceptualization of researcher development – my understanding of what it is – incorporates this more holistic interpretation of development. Yet, ironically, it illustrates this holism through deconstruction, in order to reveal its component parts.

Deconstructing Researcher Development: A Conceptual Model

My conceptualization is illustrated in Figure 1 as a conceptual model: a model of my interpretation of the componential structure of researcher development. Essentially it represents a basic deconstruction of researcher development into three main components or elements: behavioural development, attitudinal development and intellectual development. I define each of these as, respectively: the process whereby people’s behaviour or performance are modified; the process whereby people’s attitudes are modified; and the process whereby people’s knowledge, understanding or reflective or comprehensive capacity or competence are modified. I emphasize, however, that each is intended to be located under (or subsumed within) my overarching ‘umbrella’ definition of researcher development, presented above, and therefore must comply with the conditions implied by it. This means that the term ‘modified’ should be understood as ameliorative modification – change for the better, which constitutes what may be considered the enhancement of researcher capacity. It also means that the specific modificatory activity referred to in the three subsidiary definitions must be specifically research capacity-enhancement-focused.

Figure 1.

Componential structure of researcher development: first tier components.

The behaviour- or performance-modification that constitutes the behavioural component of researcher development refers to the full range of physical activity that forms part of what may be categorized as research activity or performance. This component is about ‘doing’ research, in all its forms, and at all of its stages. It includes both independent and interpersonal activity. Attitudinal development and intellectual development, in contrast, involve mental activity.

To better explain each of these three components I identify their components, of which my current thinking leads me to identify eleven, in total. These may be thought of as being foci of change, or change dimensions. How these foci of change – these sub-components, or second tier dimensions – relate to the three ‘first level’ or ‘first tier’ components is illustrated in Figure 2. My labels for the second tier components are intended to be generic labels rather than narrowly stipulative. Their vertically sequenced arrangement is necessitated by space restrictions and does not imply any hierarchical positioning.

Figure 2.

Componential structure of researcher development: first and second tier components.

Processual change (see Figure 2) is about change in relation to the processes that constitute people’s research practice – how they ‘do’ or ‘go about’ the various elements of research-related activity. Procedural change similarly relates to changes to people’s capacity to deal with or manage procedures within research-related practice. Often such procedures will be imposed at institutional level or within the wider discipline – such as research funding applications procedures. Sometimes they may be self-imposed strategic procedures: what is colloquially referred to as ‘playing the game’ (Lucas, 2006). Competential change involves the increase or enhancement of research-related skills and competences, such as the development or refinement of writing, analytical or presentation skills. Productive change refers to change to people’s research output: to how much they achieve, produce or ‘do’, such as an increase in published output or research grant applications.

Perceptual change refers to change in relation to people’s perceptions, viewpoints, beliefs and mindsets – views about whether, for example, research should have relevance and usefulness and impact upon policy and practice: whether it should be ‘applied’ or ‘pure’; whether it may – and should – be done by inexperienced and untrained amateurs/practitioners. Perceptual change relates, too, to perceptions of research as a component of one’s work, or a constituent of one’s professional identity; as such it incorporates self-perception. By evaluative change I mean changes to people’s research-related values, including the minutiae of what they consider important: that is, what matters to them about research and researching. Motivational change refers to increases in people’s motivation and levels of morale and (job) satisfaction in relation to their research activity.

By epistemological change I mean change to the bases of what people know or understand about research and researching, and to their research-related knowledge structures, as well as the theoretical and conceptual frameworks within which they locate and undertake their research activity. Rationalistic change is about change to the extent of and the nature of the reasoning that people apply to their research practice. Analytical change refers to change to the degree or nature of the analyticism applied to research-related activity. Finally, comprehensive change involves the enhancement or increase of people’s research-related knowledge and understanding.

Deconstructed in this way, researcher development appears in a new light. As if examined under a microscope, its constituent parts – its dimensions – become much more apparent. Knowing and understanding the complex ways in which these may fuse together and interact to effect the process whereby people develop as or into researchers is – or ought to be – invaluable to those responsible for promoting, monitoring and overseeing this process. In the next section I illustrate how, using my model (or taxonomy – for that is what it effectively is) as an analytical framework, this complexity may be elucidated in ways that inform research leadership.

Informing Leadership for Researcher Development

My conceptual model reveals the breadth of researcher development. Its value to the knowledge base lies in its highlighting that there is much more to developing researchers or potential researchers than working to increase their output and productivity. This observation has been taken on board by many involved in policy development and agenda-setting within the UK’s post-Roberts early career researcher development community: most notably by the organization, Vitae.⁴ HEI-based research leaders responsible for developing academics’ research capacity, however, generally share a narrower perspective. Reflecting institutional priorities and, by extension, the remits of their (the research leaders’) roles, this narrower perspective is focused on increased output and activity – particularly, in the UK, within the contexts defined by institutional REF-focused goals and aspirations. It is at this constituency that I direct the key message in this paper, using my model as my main tool. Recognizing fully the generally wide applicability of the term, in the context of my discussion in this article I apply a narrower interpretation of ‘research leaders’. I use the term here to refer principally to those employed within HEIs who, as part of their role, hold responsibility at departmental, faculty or institutional level for increasing research capacity among academics, with a view to raising the institutional profile and filling up the coffers with research income. Such research leaders will typically be senior academics – departmental research directors; faculty pro-deans; and pro-vice chancellors, for example – and will often hold their research leadership roles in a temporary capacity, expecting to pass the baton on to a new incumbent after a few years’ service. This constituency is likely also to include staff – who may be categorized as academic or academic-related – located within various institutional service units whose remit includes developing academics as researchers.

The Model as an Elucidatory Tool: Illustrating the Multidimensionality of Researcher Development

My model has the capacity to elucidate the complex multidimensionality of researcher development, and the relationship between the different dimensions and increased research activity and output. Whilst it certainly cannot provide all the answers, this elucidation goes some way towards explaining why Dr Smith writes twice as many articles per year as Dr Jones; why Professor Black’s publications are more scholarly and analytical than Professor Green’s; and how Dr Scarlet has advanced from writing mainly 2* to mainly 3*-rated publications. In doing so it goes beyond what may be assumed or inferred through commonsense and superficial reasoning. To illustrate its elucidatory capacity I apply the model, as an analytical tool, to several samples of researcher-development-related data drawn from literature that is focused on the UK context.

First I draw on Armstrong’s account of one particular episode in his own development as a researching academic. He writes:

In my naïveté I was not prepared for research that was going to be presented to policymakers and funders who were going to make important decisions based on their own interpretations of my story. However objective I believed myself to be in all aspects of the research process, I did not anticipate that the readers of the research were not going to be as objective in their interpretation of my interpretation.

Ultimately the potential impact of my research seemed to hinge around one phrase – ‘relatively expensive’. As part of the research I looked at how the voluntary organization provided its training for volunteers, and taking a range of factors into account, I concluded that the training they provided, per capita, was ‘relatively expensive’ compared with other voluntary organizations and other ways of providing the training. I was asked by the management committee of the voluntary organization if I would mind changing the phrase to read ‘relatively cheap’ on the grounds that the local policymakers and funding bodies would only skim the report and would focus on words like ‘expensive’.

No textbook learning had ever prepared me for that life changing moment. (Armstrong, 2001: 2–3)

Experiences I have recounted have been important sources of learning about the process of becoming a researcher. None of them can be dealt with by reading methodology textbooks (though some do warn of the dangers, even if they cannot tell you what to do). And so the only way to learn to be a researcher is through doing, and importantly being aware of how the doing has been constructed through praxis. (Armstrong, 2001: 4)

Armstrong’s case provides evidence of intellectual and attitudinal development by demonstrating a complex interplay of three second-tier change dimensions: comprehensive, perceptual and epistemological.

Comprehensive change is evident in his increased understanding; through this experience he grasped something that he had previously been unaware of: that others may interpret his research differently from how he interpreted it – (‘I did not anticipate that the readers of the research were not going to be as objective in their interpretation of my interpretation’). His understanding of the politics of the ‘research game’ (to use Lucas’s [2006] term) also increased: he better understood the importance to different stakeholders of their own (political) agendas and how research might be intended to be utilized within these agendas.

Leading on from this comprehensive change, perceptual change manifested itself through Armstrong’s changed perceptions of: the functions that research may be assigned to by others; others who play their parts as stakeholders in the research process; and himself (self-perception) – he refers, for example, to his own naïveté, which he implies having previously failed to recognize. Moreover, as such self-perception underwent the slight shift that transformed it into self-awareness, it too then illustrated comprehensive change.

The epistemological change that Armstrong experienced is evidenced by his denouncement of methodology textbooks as sufficient bases for researcher knowledge and his acceptance of praxis as a more reliable knowledge base. Since this specific example of epistemological change resulted from increased or enhanced understanding it also fuses with comprehensive change.

Manifesting a different combination of change foci, an employee of Sikes’ (2006: 555) case study ‘New University’ in the UK outlined his development as a researcher:

I was appointed to teach on the PCET course [Post Compulsory Education and Training] but since I came here in around ’93, ’94, research has come to be much more of a priority. Whereas before it was optional, it’s definitely expected that you do it now. Over the past few years I’ve got involved in research and writing, I’ve started a doctorate and I’m starting to think that I might be able to call myself a researcher! – Ron.

Here we read evidence of processual change and perceptual change: as the range of processes that make up Ron’s work have expanded to include research as a new dimension, so too has his self-perception expanded. His decision to undertake a doctorate implies that this new-found identity as a researcher reflects evaluative change. In his later comments this becomes explicitly evident:

In response to the RAE climate I’m conscious that I’m now spending more time than ever before in research-related activities. I’m still engaged in the usual pedagogical research, the kind of stuff that supports my day-to-day teaching activities and without which my teaching would suffer. However, I’m now spending much more time doing research for outcomes other than this. I’ve been writing a chapter for a book that I’m also an editor of, and writing papers for four conferences I’ve been accepted at, and so on. This is not divorced from my teaching practice, as I use a great deal of material from my research reading in my teaching, but I am conscious of this difference of purpose! And I welcome it – Ron. (Sikes, 2006: 561)

His last sentence (above) demonstrates Ron’s changed values: his research activity does not merely reflect compliance with institutional requirements or foci, it has become a component of his work that matters to him, and that he embraces readily. His case is a clear example of attitudinal change’s intersection with behavioural change.

The development experienced by Raddon’s (2006: 9) early career researchers during their doctoral studies evidently involved much competential change:

… the line manager, or whatever, at the time said it would be good to write that up for a journal – which I had never considered writing. Writing? Goodness! This was like the professor, my friend’s father, who wrote; it was important, clever people who wrote! But, anyway, I did write something and that was fine, it was just a small thing but I think that was probably quite a pivotal task – Hannah.

Hannah’s skills set widened to include writing for publication, and if this then marked a turning point (as is implied by her referring to it as a ‘pivotal task’) in her practice as a researcher that led to the inclusion of writing for publication within the processes that she undertakes in her work (affording the change a degree of permanence that exceeds transitoriness – a phrase that I include in my overarching definition of researcher development), then processual change could also have been demonstrated.

In speaking of his doctoral supervisor another of Raddon’s interviewees reports developmental experiences that evidently incorporated not only competential change resulting in the enhancement of his writing skills, but also the subtle interaction of perceptual and comprehensive change that both altered his perception, and increased his understanding, of what effective doctoral supervision involves. More specifically, he developed a keener understanding of how writing skills may be improved and fine-tuned:

He was of the old school of academia and by that I mean he saw PhD supervision as a kind of apprenticeship … developing me and also arguing with me and being a pedantic bastard about my punctuation and my spelling, my grammar, my syntax in my writing. That was actually very, very useful, I learned how to write via him doing these things and correcting me all the time, even though I thought I was right and he was wrong, I eventually had to concede that he did know something about how to write – Haydn. (Raddon, 2006: 10)

Moreover, Haydn’s recognition of having initially misjudged his supervisor’s effectiveness clearly demonstrates a re-evaluation that represents perceptual change: change in relation to his self-perception. His perception of himself as having been more knowledgeable than his supervisor was adjusted as a result of (or alongside – we cannot know which, for certain) the comprehensive change that he experienced. Epistemological and evaluative change also feature here, evidenced by the growth of Haydn’s recognition and valuing of mentoring (of the kind provided by his supervisor) as a basis of knowledge about what good academic writing is, and how it may be developed.

More generally, what these examples reveal is that, like any form of effective human development, researcher development is not simply a process of behaviour modification. As I define it, researcher development incorporates a range of dimensions or components that represent not only behavioural but also attitudinal and intellectual change. Moreover, any behavioural change that it entails is most effective when underpinned by attitudinal and intellectual change. Such ‘combined’ – or holistic – development represents genuine commitment on the part of the developee, rather than half-hearted compliance reflecting a lack of conviction that the development being imposed, recommended, or requested does, in fact, constitute change for the better.

What Researcher Leaders and Managers Need to Know

Herein lies a valuable lesson for those holding research leadership and development roles: quite simply, the importance of reaching and winning over hearts and minds should not be underestimated. With so many layers and branches of researcher leadership operating at various levels within their institutions it would be reasonable to expect nearly every university to be bulging at the seams with internationally recognized, prolific, grant-winning researchers producing top class, leading edge work. Yet they are not. And one of the key reasons why they are not, I suggest, is that the importance of attitudinal development and its specific dimensions is generally overlooked.

What research leaders seem to fail to take into account is that the effectiveness of initiatives aimed at increasing research productivity and output; at raising the quality of output by enhancing people’s research skills; and at building and strengthening research cultures by making research a more prevalent feature of people’s work (all of which are behavioural components of researcher development) will be dependent upon the extent to which, correspondingly, values are modified, perceptions are shifted (or widened), knowledge bases and structures are re-aligned, understanding is deepened, analyticism is increased, rationality is enhanced, and the motivation to participate and cooperate is heightened (all of which are attitudinal and intellectual components of researcher development).

Used as an analytical framework my conceptual model allows us to home in on individuals’ reported development experiences and identify the specific components and dimensions that evidently constituted the experience. More broadly, such analyses will allow us to identify patterns, trends and atypicality and to identify causal links. It will allow us to identify which specific components and dimensions of researcher development occur most frequently, under what circumstances, and with what results. It will allow us to identify which specific components and dimensions evidently occur in the most effective researcher development experiences or opportunities, and which are evidently missing from the least effective ones. It will allow us to deduce that the reason why Dr Smith writes twice as many articles per year as Dr Jones may be that Dr Smith perceives herself as a distinguished, prolific professor in the making, who recognizes the value of the academic capital (Bourdieu, 1984) that she must accrue in order to realize her perceived ideal, which motivates her activity. Dr Jones, in contrast, may perceive writing for publication as a hoop that he must jump through, even if he does not always have the energy or inclination to do so. This deduction, in turn, may lead us to consider that the best way to increase Dr Jones’s output is to tackle the factor that underpins his under-achievement: his values, which reflect his self-perception. Used in this way, the model is potentially a very useful tool for research leadership at all levels. For whilst it may be difficult – indeed, impossible – to alter Dr Jones’s self-perception and corresponding values, this depth of understanding of researcher development may be used to inform decisions relating to staff recruitment and appointments; allocations of tasks and responsibilities; and the nature of initiatives aimed at motivating people to greater effort and engagement.

Emerging from my conceptual analysis of researcher development, the key message to research leaders may be presented in a logical sequence:

In order to effect researcher development successfully it is important to understand and appreciate its breadth, its multidimensionality and its complexity.

This understanding will help elucidate the nature of individuals’ development as, or into, researchers, and how the development process occurs and is influenced.

This elucidation should inform researcher development policy and practice.

Researcher development policy and practice that is underpinned by understanding both of the breadth, multidimensionality and complexity of researcher development and of the researcher development process will potentially yield greater productivity and output.

Conclusion

I have presented my conceptualization of researcher development as a theoretical model or taxonomy that uses deconstruction to identify two hierarchically positioned layers of specific constituent components or elements. These, I propose, collectively represent researcher development’s quiddity, or essence. I choose the word ‘propose’ since I present my model as propositional knowledge (as, indeed, all theory must be considered). I place it in the public domain in the hope and expectation that others will join me in refining it and taking it further. Indeed, I acknowledge that it may be extended beyond the representation of two tiers, for each of my second tier dimensions, or foci of change, potentially has its own components or dimensions, such as: self-esteem; interests; identity; (self-)confidence; and self-conception. Positioning these – and others – hierarchically is unlikely to be a simple and straightforward task since their relationality, including their dependency upon and capacity for informing other (sub-)components or dimensions, is by no means consensually accepted. At such a level of deconstruction the picture becomes blurred since it is really a matter of opinion whether, for example, identity influences perceptions, including self-perception and self-conception, or vice versa. Indeed, I fully recognize that my model’s componential structure may be considered flawed by those who feel I should have conflated this and that dimension, or subsumed a particular one within another. I welcome such contributions to enhancing the model; I myself have changed it several times since the first draft and I am by no means convinced of the accuracy of its componential relationality. Yet to some extent the model’s accuracy (if, indeed, ‘accuracy’ is achievable – which I very much doubt) is not the point. The point – that is, my purpose in writing this article – is to contribute a theoretical perspective that will enhance the researcher development knowledge base by signalling a new direction in which to extend the field: a direction that will inform the research leadership knowledge base through a deeper understanding of what researcher development is and how it occurs.

Footnotes

Notes

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