Traditional research is often extractive, as it’s built on unequal power dynamics between the observer and the observed, and in its practice, wittingly or not, may further perpetuate these divisions. 

Anti-oppressive practices can help change that, recentring and valuing diverse perspectives, shifting power from the start of the research design process to build a stronger foundation. 

Historically, research has been weaponised against marginalised groups, particularly Indigenous communities. As Māori scholar Linda Tuhiwai Smith notes in her book Decolonizing Methodologies (a good foundational text), research has been one of the “dirtiest words” in Indigenous vocabularies due to its legacy of exploitation. 

Researchers, often from outside the community, culture, and country, have often come into communities, extracted knowledge, and left without offering any tangible benefits, asking for feedback, or sharing findings with the people involved. 

This dynamic continues to show up when researchers from privileged backgrounds dictate how data is gathered, analysed, and interpreted—often sidelining the very people who are most affected by our work.

Anti-oppressive frameworks directly confront these issues by recognising, making amends, and actively dismantling power imbalances between researchers and communities. The essence of this approach is a commitment to inclusion, participation, and equity at every stage of the research process. 

In this way, communities are not just participants, but co-researchers, shaping the decisions on what questions to ask, whom to include, and how to analyse data from the very beginning.

 This also means that everyone participating in research should be compensated, ideally financially, not just the ‘external expert’. I’ve written about this a lot in other posts. 

Anti-oppressive practices address beliefs, privileges, and the intangible manifestations. Then it builds off this to examine how these translate into practices, and financial acknowledgement of expertise is one of those practices. 

There are four key elements of anti-oppressive PMEL. The first is radical inclusion, a concept that ensures that diverse perspectives and knowledge systems are not just considered but integrated into every part of the process. Instead of using methods that may exclude certain participants based on their background or resources, anti-oppressive research is accessible and equitable, and developed in formats that can gather a variety of viewpoints.

Participatory methodologies are another, allowing communities to have a real say in how research is designed, conducted, and analysed. This contrasts with the traditional, extractive model of research. Instead of merely being the subject of study, metaphorically if not literally put under a microscope, communities take on active roles, ensuring the research reflects their lived experiences.

The third is accountability. Anti-oppressive research is accountable to the communities it serves. This means findings are shared openly and in accessible formats, and participants have control over how the results are used. Too often, research reports sit behind paywalls or remain within institutions, inaccessible to those who contributed their stories and knowledge. This also keeps it away from peer organisations, limiting the knowledge sharing and sector-level learning potential. 

Lastly, self-reflection; this work starts at the personal level and an important precondition is the self-awareness to look within at our own biases, privileges, and positionality. We also need to confront them, unlearning harmful practices that perpetuate the oppressive systems we need to undo, like assumptions made about gender roles in our communities. Continually interrogating them, going through reflective journeys of understanding, undoing, and improving helps us avoid perpetuating the same oppressive dynamics we  are trying to dismantle. To use the cliché, this can help us be part of the problem not the solution. Individual, internal work is needed for this to be done meaningfully not performatively though, so a caveat that unless these are personal skills we are willing to develop, our work will not be valuable. 

Our work has the potential to undo the long history of outsiders dictating work and research. Think of the number of projects dominated by privileged voices, either in writing the strategy that lies behind it, designing the programmes itself, and in building the implementing organisation. Marginalised communities are expected to conform to externally imposed research priorities and methods, and take time away from their lives to share their expertise for free. By flipping this power dynamic and centring the voices of those directly affected by our work, an anti-oppressive approach can ensure more meaningful, community-driven outcomes.

Of course, it’s not an immediate switch. It takes time, resources, and the preconditions above. However, the potential to have better, deeper insights, contribute to sector learning, improve our programs’ impact, and to help shift power far outweighs these in my view. It’s also a journey, and making the change shouldn’t happen overnight. We can all start with the first step of self reflection and confronting biases, through power analysis exercises (get in touch for workshops) and examining internal and personal practices. Based on the means and resources available, we can think about the most relevant next steps for the journey, which will of course take time to be done right.