You don’t have to find a “gap” in the literature

Jo VanEvery, Academic Career Guide · You don’t need to find a “gap” in the literature

Your research, and the publications based on that research, need to make an original contribution to knowledge. Over the past 20 years, I’ve seen a lot of ways academics, at every career stage, get in a bit of a mess about what that means.

A lot of research and writing advice operationalizes this goal by talking about finding “gaps” in the literature. This framing is somewhat useful, which probably accounts for its popularity. It is a relatively simple way to begin to understand the idea of “contribution”, but the ubiquity of the framing suggests that a lot of people are stopping there…

Framing “original contribution” as filling a “gap” creates a lot of other problems.

To be fair, many of those talking about gaps address at least some of the problems. There is other advice out there for addressing these problems, often without making the link back to this “gap” framing.

I’d like to propose a reframe.

You don’t need to find a “gap” to be able to make a contribution.

What’s wrong with “gaps”?

One of the biggest issues with the “gap” framing is how it orients you to the existing body of knowledge.

Your tone becomes defensive. You approach the literature looking for what’s missing. You focus more on the deficits of the existing research than on understanding the importance of the contributions others have made. You probably assume others will read your work in a similar way.

You aren’t sure how to engage with the literature.

If you think you need to demonstrate that this research has never been done before, you run the risk of engaging with existing literature in a way that makes you look sloppy or disrespectful. Not every reviewer who suggests you cite additional research is fishing for citations. Many are pointing out significant issues with the way you’ve located your contribution.

You are unclear about the contribution your work makes.

The lack of existing research is not sufficient to indicate that your research would make a significant contribution. Some gaps don’t need to be filled. Or filling them doesn’t contribute very much to the body of knowledge. Even when you identify a gap, more work is required to justify filling it, or explain how you are contributing to filling it.

The impact on you as a scholar

The effects of the “gap” framing are also evident in the struggles you have with doing the research and writing, submitting it, and responding to feedback. It doesn’t just shape the final product, it affects the process.

Procrastination is not a moral failing. It’s usually a symptom of some kind of underlying issue. That issue might be intellectual. Frequently, it’s emotional. It may appear as a gremlin shouting “Imposter!” but it can also look like a lot of other things.

Positioning yourself defensively can be isolating. You anticipate the limitations others will criticize in your work. It can feel like your own work will never be good enough to face this kind of criticism.

No wonder it is difficult to work out when your draft is good enough to submit.
No wonder you second guess yourself about your research plan as you do the research (even if the proposal was approved and/or funded).
No wonder you dread asking for help or feedback.
No wonder you dread receiving feedback, even from trusted colleagues.

This emotional stuff is important. It adds time and effort to the process. And it doesn’t feel good.

From “gap” to “contribution”

What I really like about the language of “contribution” is that it emphasises the collective nature of the project of advancing knowledge. Any specific publication or research project is contributing to a larger body of knowledge, and it is this larger body that is important.

If you think of yourself as part of a community of scholars (or even more broadly as a community of thinkers), you wouldn’t want your primary mode of engagement with other members of your community to be defensive. You want to be able to produce knowledge together. You want to be able to learn from each other, because you know different things.

Think of a pot-luck dinner. There is more to making a contribution than filling a gap. While you don’t want everyone to bring a dessert, it also doesn’t matter if you have 3 different desserts, as long as someone also brings a main course. In fact, it might be better to have a couple of contributions in each category. If someone hates chocolate, they don’t have to forego dessert.

By framing the project of research and publication as a collective one, you are more likely to see other scholars as colleagues engaged in the same (larger) project. You are building on the strengths of their work. You hope they will build on the strengths of yours.

The limitations of any individual project or publication are not irrelevant, but you can keep them in perspective as a normal part of the knowledge creation process. This allows you to be honest about the limitations of your work. Remember, you have a contribution to make, even if it suggests more work needs to be done.

Scientific knowledge is strengthened by replication studies. Systemic reviews make an important contribution to understanding the current state of knowledge in a particular area.

Looking at the same question using a different theoretical or conceptual framework will make a contribution. Those engaged in interdisciplinary research will be aware that while different disciplines may use similar terms, they often mean different things. Working together generates new perspectives (and thus new knowledge).

Just like your pot luck dinner needs salads, mains, and desserts; research contributions can also look really different.

You don’t need to be defensive in your writing.

The people you imagine as your harshest critics may not even be the audience for this particular piece. (Imagine them as the people who hate chocolate. Someone else is bringing a dessert they will like.)

Some of those critics may have the ability to keep you out of certain PhD programmes, funding opportunities, publications, or jobs. However, they don’t control all of the programmes, funding, publications, and jobs. There are other people who will be excited about your work. They will be contributing things you are also excited about. You don’t have to accept invitations to potlucks where the only thing you can or want to eat is the thing you brought, and where everyone else sneers at your contributions and makes you feel bad for not wanting to (or being able to) eat what they brought. You can choose to hang out with other people who share, or at least respect, your dietary preferences.

Although you’ll still have to do some emotional work to remind yourself that it’s okay not to concern yourself with the scholars who make you feel defensive, in general you will enjoy your writing and research more. It’ll be easier to ask for help, which will usually make the process of getting unstuck in your writing and research quicker. Your preparation for meetings where you discuss your work in progress will be easier and quicker. You may even start to look forward to opening email or reviewer comments, and if the feedback is unkind or unhelpful, you’ll have more resources for addressing it.

A new question

The question remains:

if you aren’t filling a gap, what question are you asking yourself when you read the existing literature, write that research proposal, or introduce your article or book?

As a general orientation, I propose:

Where do I belong?

More specifically try asking questions like:

What would I like to thank the author for pointing out?
What would I like to tell this author about my own work in a “Yes, and…” way?
What questions would I like to ask the author about their work?
What questions would I like the author to ask about my work?
What do I want to know more about after reading this?
If I could have a conversation with this author about our work, who else would I want to invite?

You don’t have to actually write to the author, or arrange a workshop. Publishing research is conversation. Sometimes it does take place over email, or coffee, or dinner. Sometimes it takes place in small seminars and workshops (virtual, in person or hybrid). Sometimes it takes place in formal conference presentations, and in the informal conversations that happen at conferences.

A lot of the time it takes place in the long asynchronous form of journal articles and books. Citations are an important part of this work.

Sometimes you curate those published conversations in special issues and edited collections. Or through formal research networks, research centres, research collaborations.

The smaller formal and informal conversations weave in and out of the larger formal ones building the framework of the community of scholars.