Theoretical framework

Doctoral dissertation is inevitably connected to theory. It’s based on theory, and it integrates theory with research. Theory provides lens for identifying a research problem, formulating research questions, and choosing a method and design to investigate those questions. In other words, a sturdy theoretical foundation is crucial for a successful dissertation. But what constitutes such a foundation and how to build it?

Theoretical framework is often conceptualized as a tentative theory that describes the phenomena being studied and explains the presumed relationships among them (Maxwell, 2005). Theoretical framework is compared to a blueprint or a “current version of the researcher’s map of the territory being investigated” (Leshem & Trafford, 2007). The wording, such as “tentative theory” or “current version,” implicitly points to the idea that theoretical frameworks may evolve as research develops.  During my readings, I took notice of these tentativeness and mutability of theoretical framework and half-consciously linked them to the revisions that doctoral researches have to make, after data collected, to the first three chapters, which were initially written for the dissertation prospectus. But these revisions and changes seemed rather unimportant and distant to me when I started developing a theoretical framework for my dissertation.  I was solely focused on how to find a good theoretical framework, and that process seemed mysterious and convoluted to me.  From Aaron Schutz’s blog post “Theoretical Frameworks: Where do They Come From? How do We ChooseThem?” I learned that I am not alone and that many doctoral students face the same problem. Schutz writes, 

In my limited experience, graduate students often acquire theoretical frameworks in extremely problematic ways. The most common source of a framework is probably in the work of one’s advisor. In my school, there was a recent spate of dissertations using Bandura’s theory of “self efficacy,” reflecting the interests of a small group of professors. I imagine other graduate students walking up to a Borgesian bookcase of theories, skimming through them until one strikes them as useful: “Hmm . . . . Barthes? No. Bakhtin? No. Bernstein? No. Oh, Bourdieu! Okay, good.” I rarely see early career scholars think in any sophisticated fashion about the plusses and minuses of particular theoretical frameworks, about what each illuminates and obscures.

At the time I read that post, I was in the process of changing my advisor from the one whose past work was somewhat close to my dissertation topic to someone who specializes in a different area. So I did not have a luxury of using my advisor’s work as a source of my framework, but I wasn’t upset. By then I’ve learned, from experiences of my fellow graduate students, that uncritical adoption of the framework used by one’s advisor may turn problematic. 

I thought that a better understanding of what “theoretical framework” is would be a good starting point for moving forward. The best definition I was able to come up with was that theoretical framework consists of interrelated concepts, constructs, and existing theories, which frame and guide a particular research study. Reading about theoretical framework and formulating its definition helped me to realize that it’s impossible to find a theoretical framework because the theoretical framework is not something that readily exists and can be found in the literature; it needs to be assembled by a doctoral researcher. Although selecting concepts, constructs, and theories that are most appropriate and relevant to a particular research project may seem rather straightforward, the task is complicated by a vast amount of theories, many of which deal with similar issues, but approach them differently, and employ the same constructs, but conceptualize them differently.

Moreover, as Berger (1991) points out in his article “Chautauqua: Why Are There So Few Communication Theories?” some disciplinary specifics can make it harder for students of communication to perform theoretical work. According to Berger, communication departments usually put more emphasis on (and require more courses in) methodology than theory. Although Berger wrote his article more than two decades ago, his claim resonates with my experience as a doctoral student. During my graduate career, I took only a few theory courses, and, in these classes, we spent a substantial portion of time discussing different epistemological and ontological perspectives, which is reasonable since the knowledge of paradigms makes scholars aware of the boundaries within which they approach their research topics. As a result of this extensive attention, it wasn’t difficult for me to identify a research paradigm in which to situate my study. But for some reason in my theory classes, we approached theories in a less systematized way and spent less time on scrutinizing and evaluating them. Consequently, for a long time, I felt that I didn’t have sufficient knowledge (or confidence) to finalize my choice of theories suitable for my project or to soundly combine several of them.

Aaron Schutz’s “schematic theory for constructingtheoretical frameworks” assisted me in rethinking my approach and regaining my confidence.

As evident from the picture, Schutz’s schematic consists of 3 axes, or directions in which a doctoral researcher needs to examine a theory which she consider to be a basis of her theoretical framework. The first axis, which Schutz calls “texture,” represents becoming increasingly conscious of the internal tensions and complexities of a particular theory. The second axis, called “contention,” represents increasing awareness of critiques of a particular theory beginning to consider “the ways other theories might complicate the conceptualizations of a particular theory.” The third axis, called “reality,” represents becoming “increasingly sensitive to the internal texture of the data one is examining, of the aspects of the world that are and are not included, and of the alternate ways one might conceptualize relationships between different aspects.”

Schutz’s “schematic theory for constructing theoretical frameworks” prompted several realizations. First, I realized that I need to start somewhere, to pick a theory, and this theory doesn’t have to be a perfect fit for my project, since it’s just a starting point. This realization helped me to overcome the paralysis of self-doubt. My readings gave me several possibilities, and I picked a theory that seemed to resonate most with my vision of the project. I also realized that no matter which theory I start with, none of them was developed to meet the goals of my project, so I need to explicitly articulate those goals, critically evaluate the theory’s strengths and weaknesses in meeting them, and assess a possibility of incorporating other theories in order to overcome those weaknesses and limitations. Moreover, I realized that hardly any of these decisions is absolute or final and that the data I collect would inevitably cause some changes (“reality” axis), rendering useless some presupposed connections and relationships and indicating new possibilities. In other words, developing a theoretical framework, like a dissertation, and like life itself, is evolving; it’s not a destination but a process :)

Berger, C. R. (1991). Chautauqua: Why Are There So Few Communication Theories? Communication Monographs, 58, 101-113.

Leshem, S., & Trafford, V. (2007). Overlooking the conceptual framework. Innovations in Education and Teaching International, 44, 93-105.

Maxwell, J. A. (2005). Qualitative research design: An interpretive approach (2^nd ed.). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage.