Written by Tom Groves
One of the most potent tools that have been available for years to the market researcher is the ethnography. The term (from the Greek ἔθνος ethnos = folk/people and γράφω grapho = to write) had its origins in the late 19th century as scientists sought way to interpret meanings and behaviors within cultures. By unbiased observing of ordinary activities, within naturally occurring settings, they could draw hypotheses on broad issues: religion, sex, family structure, social hierarchies, and the everyday: preparing food, building shelter, childrearing. Margaret Mead, with her groundbreaking Coming of Age in Samoa, published in 1928, brought ethnography as a discipline of cultural anthropology into the public eye, and her methods spawned a long line of ethnographic treatises, which examine sub-cultures within societies. Recent examples include Guests of the Sheik: An Ethnography of an Iraqi Village by Elizabeth Warnock Fernea and Helen Thornam’s Ethnography of the Videogame.
Advertisers and marketers quickly learned the value of ethnographic study, whether conducted in the home, the grocery store, or the office. Its value became more apparent when researchers noticed, especially in low involvement packaged goods, a huge gap between respondents “stated” and “observed” behavior. To cite some examples from my own past, I learned that in focus groups respondents almost always underestimate the number of products they have in any particular category. Ask a respondent how many kinds of cereal they have at home, a typical answer might be “Three – a healthy brand for my husband and me, one for the kids that’s low in sugar, and a “special treat” cereal” (Lucky Charms and Count Chocula always seemed to be in that category!). Visit their home, and you’d invariably find six or seven boxes. I’ve found the same holds true for salad dressing, shampoo, laundry soap and may others. Consumers tended to “compartmentalize” and give the types of brands- low-fat, ranch, blue cheese, etc. rather than the actual number of products they have on hand.
It’s also human nature to want to appear in the best light in front of their fellow respondents. I once did a focus group on couponing and I started off asking how often they used coupons. The first respondent said that she rarely used coupons since money was no object when it came to buying the best for her family. After that statement, the other respondents were unwilling to volunteer their amount of coupon use. I was able to bring them around, but it took a bit of coaxing. To get to real truths and real behavior in many categories, a home visit or in-store observation is always in order.
In healthcare research, the danger of “compartmentalization” is ever-present. In many conditions that we research, respondents in focus groups (and this includes both virtual on-line groups as well as in-person) tend to rationalize the effect of an illness on their lives. You often hear, “It’s not so bad”, “I can deal with it”, “Hey, it could be worse, it’s not cancer!” While it is true that good moderators can break down natural defense mechanisms and barriers, often the real truths are revealed only when you are able to observe and interview a respondent in his or her home. To give an example, I did a focus group several years ago with male patients with Type 2 diabetes. There was a lot of rationalization and compartmentalization going on in the room (the fact that they were males may have had something to do with it). I often recruit ethnographies from people I interview in focus groups, so I asked one respondent, Bill, if we could come to his house for a follow-up interview. Mind you, Bill was very clear in the group that he was managing his diabetes and it hadn’t affected his life in any meaningful way. When we got to Bill’s apartment, he showed us around I asked him if I could look in his fridge where he (I assumed) kept his insulin.
He replied, “Oh, I don’t keep my insulin here!”
“Well, where do you keep it?”
“At my mother’s apartment two blocks away.”
“Why is that?
“I don’t want anyone to know, especially a woman I might invite over, to have ANY idea that I have diabetes.”
Then the floodgates opened and he shared with us how devastating the diagnosis was, how it had affected his relationships, how he had gone from a slim weekend athlete to overweight, out of shape homebody. He volunteered to take us shopping, and we watched him throw the items in the shopping cart punctuated by the statement “Now this is what I’m forced to eat.”
Based on my experience with Bill, I now try whenever possible to convince teams of the value of in-home ethnographies. I’ve done them for MS, psoriasis, thalassemia, OAB, osteoporosis and depression, to name a few.
As Atticus Finch said in To Kill A Mockingbird, “You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view… Until you climb inside of his skin and walk around in it.”











