In qualitative research, we're often told to "be reflexive" and to "reflect on what we're doing". But what does that actually mean in practice? And is there a best way to do it? Adam Chen, a doctoral researcher at the University of Birmingham, discusses reflection and reflexivity as well as a Feminist ethic of care.
Cite as: Chen, A. (2026) 'Beyond Navel-Gazing: Reflection, Reflexivity and Care in Qualitative Research', 30 October. Available at: blog.srnmidlands.com/chen-2026Before we delve into what reflexive practice looks like, it's important to distinguish between reflective practice and reflexive practice.
Reflective practice, in essence, is thinking critically about one’s past experiences, learning from them and improving (Schön, 1992). Schön distinguished between reflection-in-action (thinking on your feet) and reflection-on-action (looking back afterwards).
Reflexivity, by contrast, is ‘a conscious cognitive process where knowledge and theory are applied to make sense of remembered reflective episodes’ (Dallos and Stedmon 2009, p.4). In other words, it’s a process in which researchers consider assumptions and unpick personal beliefs, and it continues throughout the research process, leading to self-change.
Put simply: reflection asks what happened and what did I learn? Reflexivity asks how did I, and the knowledge I bring, shape what happened, and what I've concluded from it?
One structure researchers can draw on is Gibbs’ (1988) reflective cycle, developed to promote critical thinking about one’s experiences. It has six stages:
Description – what happened.
Feelings – your reactions and feelings
Evaluation – what went well/what didn’t
Analysis – understanding/making sense of what happened. Why did things go well?
Conclusion – what have you learnt
Action plan – what are you going to do differently
On its own, Gibbs' cycle is a reflective model. To make it reflexive, bring your positionality and theoretical lens into each stage by shifting the focus from what happened to how you are shaping the situation:
If you came to this post looking for a simple how-to guide, you may be disappointed. As May and Perry (2017) note, no single method guarantees reflection or reflexivity. What matters is how you use a method. Writing is a common approach, whether that's a reflexive journal, analytic memos or a reflective essay.
For a thorough overview, the AMEE guide to reflexivity in qualitative research (Olmos-Vega et al., 2023) is an excellent place to start. It outlines four interconnected types of reflexivity:
Personal – how your own experiences, identities and assumptions shape the research.
Interpersonal – how relationships and power dynamics with participants (and colleagues) influence the work.
Methodological – how your methodological choices shape what can be known.
Contextual – how institutional, cultural and historical contexts frame the research.
Working through each type in turn can encourage thorough reflexivity without focusing purely on personal reflection. For example, after an interview you might ask not only how did I feel? (personal), but also how did the power dynamic between us shape what was said? (interpersonal), what did my interview guide make easy or hard to talk about? (methodological) and what institutional or cultural expectations were in the room? (contextual).
Reflexivity takes on extra weight when research involves sensitive topics, distress or trauma for participants and researchers alike. Brannelly and Barnes (2022) argue that we need to go beyond reflexivity, drawing on feminist care ethics. A Feminist ethic of care actively resists exploitation and prioritises mutuality and care through relational, context-sensitive, and power-aware practice (Drenten and Gurrieri, 2025).
Care isn't straightforward, though. Brannelly and Barnes (2022) caution that it can slip into paternalism, positioning participants as "vulnerable" and undermining their autonomy. They argue that we need to go beyond reflexivity towards "care-full" research. Rather than only asking "how am I shaping this research?", they ask "how am I caring within this research?" Their framework has five elements:
Attentiveness – noticing issues, concerns and needs.
Responsibility – accepting responsibility to act in response to a perceived need.
Competence – fully understanding the research context and the human, methodological and ethical issues at stake.
Responsiveness – being responsive to the person receiving care, so that care is completed.
Solidarity – being aware of injustice and the possibility of reparative action.
Here I’ll provide some space for you to reflect on how you could implement a Feminist ethic of care in your research.
Attentiveness: What needs or concerns might my participants have that my study design doesn't currently notice?
Responsibility: When I notice a need, such as distress during an interview, what am I prepared to do, and where are my limits?
Competence: What do I need to understand about this community, topic or setting before I can care well within it?
Responsiveness: How will I know whether participants actually experience my safeguards as care rather than control?
Solidarity: What injustices shape my participants' lives, and how could my research contribute to change rather than just documenting harm?
Reflexivity isn't a box to tick in your methods chapter. It's an ongoing, sometimes uncomfortable practice that shapes how we collect, interpret and represent other people's experiences. Structured tools like Gibbs' cycle offer a starting point. Reflexivity begins when we turn the questions back on ourselves, and care ethics reminds us why that matters.
Adam Chen
Adam is a PhD Student at the University of Birmingham. Adam is exploring the social determinants of youth suicide in England and ways of addressing upstream factors.