The basic premise of Grounded Theory research is to start with as few preconceived ideas and
assumptions as possible so that you can build a theory based on the data that emerges from the
process. For example, when I first started with what I would later refer to as Wholehearted Research, I
had two questions: What is the anatomy of human connection, and how does it work? After studying
the best and worst of humanity, I had learned that nothing is as important as human connection and I
wanted to know more about the ins and outs of how we develop meaningful connections.
In the process of collecting data to answer the questions, I ran into shame—this thing that corroded
connection. I decided to take a quick detour to understand shame so that I could better understand
connection. At that point, my questions became, “What is shame, and how does it affect our lives?”
My quick detour turned into eight years (there was lots to learn). I posed new questions based on
what I had learned: The men and women who had embraced their vulnerabilities and imperfections
and developed a powerful level of resilience to shame seemed to value a certain way of living. What
did they value, and how did they cultivate what they needed? These questions became the basis for
determining what it takes for most people to live with their whole hearts.
My data doesn’t come from questionnaires or surveys; I interview people and collect stories using
field notes. I’m basically a story catcher. Over the past ten years, I’ve collected more than ten
thousand stories. I’ve done formal research interviews with close to one thousand men and women
individually and in focus groups. People have shared their stories with me through letters, e-mail, my
blog, and the courses I’ve taught. Some have even sent me their art and copies of their journals. I’ve
also presented to tens of thousands of mental health professionals who have shared their case studies
with me.
When I’m finished interviewing, I analyze the stories for themes and patterns so I can generate
theories from the data. When I code data (analyze the stories), I go into deep researcher mode where
my only focus is on accurately capturing what I heard in the stories. I don’t think about how I would
say something, only how they said it. I don’t think about what an experience would mean to me, only
what it meant to the person who told me about it.
Rather than approaching a problem and saying, “I need to collect evidence of what I know to be
true,” the Grounded Theory approach forces me to let go of my interests and investments so I can
focus on the concerns, interests, and ideas of the people I interview.
The data-coding process is laborious and difficult. My husband, Steve, likes to leave town with the
kids when I going into my comparing, coding, memoing phase. He says it’s kind of scary because I
walk around the house dazed and mumbling with a stack of yellow legal pads in my hands. It’s a very
attractive process.
What I love/hate the most about Grounded Theory is that it’s never really done. The theory that you
generate from your data is only as “good” as its ability to explain new data. That means every time
you collect a new story or a new piece of information, you have to hold it up against the theory
you’ve developed. Does it work? Does it ring true? Does your existing theory work this new data in a
meaningful way?
If you follow my blog or if you’ve attended any of my lectures, you can probably attest to the
evolving nature of my theory-building. If you want to honor the stories that people have shared with
you, you have to stay rigorous in your attempts to accurately capture their meaning. It’s a challenge,
but I honestly love what I do.
If you’re really interested in Grounded Theory or if you want more information on methodology,
visit my Web site for links to the academic articles on Shame Resilience Theory and the Theory on
Wholehearted Living (www.brenebrown.com).