writing

Publishing your research: Some pointers

Why bother?

Let’s say this, up front: it’s hard work getting your research published. It’s rarely just a case of cutting and pasting a few bits of your thesis, or reformatting an SPSS table or two, and then sending it off to the BMJ for their feature article. So before you do anything, you really need to think, ‘Have I got the energy to do it?’ ‘Do I really want to see this in print?’ And being clear about your reasons may give you the motivation to keep going when every part of you would rather give up. So here’s five reasons why you might want to publish your research.

  1.  If you want to get into academia, it’s pretty much essential. It’s often, now, the first thing that an appointment panel will look at: how many publications you have, and in what journals. 

  2. Even if your focus is primarily on practice, a publication can be great in terms of supporting your career development. It can look very impressive on your CV—particularly if it’s in an area you’re wanting to develop specialist expertise in. Indeed, having that publication out there establishes you as a specialist in that field, and that can be great in terms of being invited to do trainings, or teaching on courses, or consultancy.

  3. It’s a way of making a contribution to your field—and that’s the very definition of doctoral level work. You’ve done your research, you’ve found out something important, so let people know about it. If you’ve written a thesis, it may just about be accessible to people somewhere in your university library, but they’re going to have to look pretty hard. If it’s in a journal, online, you’re speaking to the world.

  4. …And that means you’re part of the professional dialogue. It’s not just you, sitting in your room, talking to your cat: you’re exchanging ideas and evidence with the best in the field—learning, as well as being learnt from.

  5. You owe it to your participants. For me, that’s the most important reason of all. Your participants gave you their time, they shared with you their experiences—sometimes very deeply.  So what are you going to do with that? Are you just going to use it to get your award—for your own private knowledge and development; or are you going to use it to help improve the lives of the people that your participants represent? In this sense, publishing your work can be seen as an ethical responsibility.  

Is IT good enough?

Yes. Almost certainly. If it’s been passed, at Master’s level and especially at doctoral, it means, by definition, that it’s at a good enough standard for publication somewhere. It’s totally understandable to feel insecure or uncertain about your work—we all can have those feelings—but the ‘objective’ reality is that it’s almost certainly got something of originality, significance, and rigour to contribute to the public domain.

Focus

If you’ve written a thesis—and particularly a doctoral one—you may have been covering several different research questions. So being clear about what you want to focus on in your publication, or publications, may be an important next step. Get clear question(s), and be clear about the particular methods and parts of your thesis that answer them. That means that some of your thesis has to go. Yup, that’s right: some of that hard fought, painful, agonised-over-every-word-at-four-in-the-morning will have to be the mercy of your Delete key. That can be one of the hardest parts of converting your thesis to a publication—it’s a grieving process—but it’s essential to having something in digestible form for the outside world.

And, of course, you may want to try and do more than one publication. For instance, you might report half of your themes in one paper, and then the other half in another paper; or, if you did a mixed methods study, you could split it into quant. and qual. Or you might divide your literature review off into a separate paper, or do a focused paper on your methodology. ‘Salami slicing’ your thesis too much can end up leaving each bit just too thin, but if there’s two or more meaningful chunks that can come of your work, why not? 

Finding the right journal

This is one of the most important parts of writing up for publication, and easily overlooked. Novice researchers tend to think that, first, you do all your research, write it up for publication, and then only at the end do you think about who’s going to publish it. But different journals have different requirements, different audiences, and publish different kinds of research; so it’s really important to have some sense of where you might submit it to long before you get to finishing off your paper. That means you should have a look at different journal website, and see what kinds of papers they publish and who they’re targeted towards—and take that into account when you draft your article. 

Importantly, each journal site will have ‘Author Guidelines’ (see, for instance, here) and these are essential to consult before you submit to that journal. To be clear, these aren’t a loose set of recommendations for how they’d like you to prepare your manuscript. They’re generally a very strict and precise set of instructions for the ways that they want you to set it out (for instance, line spacing, length of abstract), and if you don’t follow them, you’re likely to just get your manuscript returned with an irritated note from the publishing team. Particularly important here is the length of article they’ll accept. This really varies across journals, and is sometimes by number of pages (typically 35 pages in the US journals), sometimes by number of words (generally around 5-6,000 words)—and may be inclusive of references and tables, etc., or not. So that’s really important to find out before you submit anywhere, as you may find out that you’re thousands of words over the journal’s particularly limit. Bear in mind that, particularly with the higher impact journals (see below), they’re often looking for reasons to reject papers. They’re inundated: rejecting, maybe, 80% of the papers submitted to them. So if they don’t think you’ve bothered to even look at their author guidelines, they may be pretty swift in rejecting your work.  

So which journals should you consider? There’s hundreds out there and it can feel pretty overwhelming knowing where to start. One of the first choices is whether to go with a general psychotherapy and counselling research journal, or whether something more specific to the field you’re looking at. For instance, if your research was on the experiences of clients with eating disorders in CBT, you could go for a specialised eating disorders journal, or a specialised CBT journal, or a more general counselling/psychotherapy publication. This can be a hard call, and generally you’re best off looking at the journal sites, as above, to see what kind of articles they carry and whether your research would fit in. 

Note, a lot of psychotherapy and mental health journals don’t publish qualitative research, or only the most positivist manifestations of it (i.e., large Ns, rigorous auditing procedures, etc.). It’s unfortunate, but if you look at a journal’s past issues (on their site) and don’t see a single qualitative paper, you may be wasting your time with a qualitative submission: particularly if it’s underlying epistemology is right at the constructionist end of the spectrum. And, if you’re aiming to get your qualitative research published in one of the bigger journals, it’s something you may want to factor in right at the start of your project: for instance, with a larger number of participants, or more rigorous procedures for auditing your analysis.

You should also ask your supervisor, if you have one, or other experienced people in the field, where they think you should consider submitting to. If they’ve worked in that area for some time, they should have some good ideas.  

Impact factor

Another important consideration is the journal’s impact factor. This is a number from zero upwards indicating, essentially, how prestigious the journal is. There’s an ‘official’ one from the organisation Clarivate; but these days most journals will provide their own, self-calculated impact factor if they do not have an official one. You can normally find the impact factor displayed on the journal’s website (the key one is the ‘two year’ impact factor—sometimes just called the ‘impact factor’—as against the five year impact factor). To be technical, the impact factor is the amount of times that the average article in that journal is cited by other articles over a particular period: normally two years. So the bigger the journal’s impact factor, the more that articles in that journal are getting referenced in the wider academic field—i.e., impact. The biggest international journals in the psychotherapy and counselling field will have an impact factor of 4 or 5, and ones of 2 or 3 are still strong international publications. Journals with an impact factor around 1 may tend towards a national rather than international reach, and/or be at lower levels of prestige, but still carrying many valuable articles. And some good journals may not have an official impact factor at all: journals have to apply for an official one and in some cases the allocation process can seem somewhat arbitrary.

Of course, the higher the journal’s impact factor, the harder it is to get published there, because there’s more people wanting to get in. So if you’re new to the research field, it’s a great thing to get published in a journal with any impact factor at all; and you shouldn’t worry about avoiding a journal just because it doesn’t have an impact factor, or if it’s fairly low. At the same time, if you can get into a journal with an impact factor of 1 or above that’s a great achievement, and something that’s likely to make your supervisor(s), if they’re co-authors on the paper (see below), very happy. For more specific pointers on publishing in higher impact journals, see here.

These days, the impact of a journal may also be reported in terms of its quartile: so from Q1 to Q4.  Essentially Q1 journals are those with impact factors within the top 25% of the subject area, and down to Q4 journals which are in the lowest 25%.  

In thinking about impact factor, a key question to ask yourself is also this: Do I want to (a) just get something out there with the minimum of additional effort, or (b) try and get something into the best possible journal, even if it takes a fair bit of extra work. There’s no right answers here: if you have got the time, it’s great if you can commit to (b), but if that’s not realistic and/or you’re just sick and tired of your thesis, then going for (a) is far better than not getting anything out at all.

General counselling and psychotherapy research journals

If you’re thinking of publishing in a general therapy research journal, one of the most accessible to get published in is Counselling Psychology Review – particularly if your work is specific to counselling psychology.  The word limit is pretty restrictive though. There’s also the European Journal for Qualitative Research in Psychotherapy, which is specifically tailored for the publication of doctoral or Master’s research, and aims to ‘provide an accessible forum for research that advances the theory and practice of psychotherapy and supports practitioner-orientated research’. If you’re coming from a more constructionist perspective, a journal like the European Journal of Psychotherapy & Counselling might also be a good first step, which publishes a wide range of papers and perspectives.

For UK based researchers, two journals that are also pretty accessible are Counselling and Psychotherapy Research (CPR) and the British Journal of Guidance and Counselling (BJGC). Both are very open to qualitative, as well as quantitative studies; and value constructionist starting points as well as more positivist ones. The editors there are also supportive of new writers, and know the British counselling and psychotherapy field very well. See here for an example of a recent doctoral research project published in the BJGC (Helpful aspects of counselling for young people who have experienced bullying: a thematic analysis), and here for one in CPR (Helpful and unhelpful elements of synchronous text‐based therapy: A thematic analysis).

 Another good choice, though a step up in terms of getting accepted, is Counselling Psychology Quarterly. It doesn’t have an official impact factor, but it has a very rigorous review process and publishes some excellent articles: again, both qualitative and quantitative.

Then there’s the more challenging international journals, like Journal of Clinical Psychology, Psychotherapy Research, Psychotherapy, and Journal of Counseling Psychology, with impact factors around 3 to 5 (in approximate ascending order). They’re all US-based psychotherapy journals, fairly quantitative and positivist in mindset (though they do publish qualitative research at times), and if you can get your research published in there you’re doing fantastically. Like a lot of the journals in the field, they’re religiously APA in their formatting requirements, so make sure you stick tightly to the guidelines set out in the APA 7th Publication Manual. A UK-based equivalent of these journals, and open-ish to qualitative research (albeit within a fairly positivist frame), is Psychology and Psychotherapy, published by the BPS.

There’s even more difficult ones, like the Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology with an impact factor of 4.5, and The Lancet is currently at 53.254.  But the bottom line, particularly if you’re a new researcher, is to be realistic. Having said that, there’s no harm starting with some of the tougher journals, and seeing what they say. At worse, they’re going to reject your paper; and if you can get to the reviewing stage (see below), then you’ll have a really helpful set of comments on how to improve your work. 

If a journal requires you to pay to publish your article, it’s possible a predatory publisher (‘counterfeit scholarly publishers that aim to trick honest researchers into thinking they are legitimate’, see APA advice here). In particular, watch out for emails, once you’ve completed your thesis, telling you how wonderful your work is and how much they want to publish it in their journal—only to find out later that they charge a fortune for it. You may also find yourself getting predatory requests to present your research at conferences, with the same underlying intent. Having said that, an increasing range of reputable journals—particularly online ones that publish papers very quickly, like Trials—do ask authors to pay Article Processing Charges (APC). Generally, you can tell the ‘kosher’ ones by their impact factor and whether they have a well-established international publisher. It’s also very rare for non-predatory journals to reach out to solicit publications. Check with a research supervisor if you’re not sure, but be very, very wary of handing over any money for publication.  

Writing your paper

So you know what you’re writing and who for, now you just have to write it. But how do you take, for instance, your beautiful 30,000 word thesis and squash it down to a paltry 6,000 words?

If you’re trying to go from thesis to article, the first thing is that, as above, you can’t just cut and paste it together. You need to craft it: compiling an integrated research report that is carefully knitted together into a coherent whole. It’s an obvious thing to say, but the journal editors and reviewers won’t have seen your thesis, and they’ll care even less what’s in it. So what they’ll want is a self-contained research report that stands up in its own right—not referring back to, or in the context of, something they’ll never have time to read. That’s particularly important to bear in mind if you’re writing two or more papers from your research: each needs to be written up as a self-contained study, with its own aims, methods, findings, and discussion.

In writing your paper, try and precis the most important parts of your thesis in relation to the question(s) that you’re asking. Take the essence of what you want to say and try and convey it as succinctly and powerfully as possible. Think ‘contracting’ or ‘distilling’: reducing a grape down to a raisin, or a barley mash down to a whiskey—where you’re making it more condensed but retaining all the goodness, sweetness, and flavour. That doesn’t mean you can’t cut and paste some parts of your thesis into the paper, but really ask yourself whether they can be condensed down (for instance, do you really need such long quotes in your Results section?), and make sure you write and rewrite the paper until it seamlessly joins together.

Your Results are generally the most important and interesting part of your paper, so often the part you’ll want to keep as close to its original form as possible. So if you’ve got, say, 7,000 words for your paper, you may want your Results to be 2-3,000 of that (particularly if it’s qualitative). Then you can condense everything else down around it. Your Introduction/Literature Review may be reducible to, perhaps, 500-1,000 words. Maybe 1,000 words for your Methods and Discussion sections; 1,000 words for References. 

If you’ve written a thesis, you may be able to cut some sections entirely. If you’re submitting to a more positivist journal, your reflexivity section can often just go; equally your epistemology. Sorry.  If your study is qualitative, you may also find that you can cut down a lot of the longer quotes in your Results. Again, try and draw out the essence of what you are trying to say there… and just say it.

Generally, and particularly for the higher-end US journals, you’re best off following the structure of a typical research paper (and often they require this): Background, Method, Results, Discussion, References. They’re may be more latitude with the more constructionist journals but, again, check previous papers to see how research has been written up. 

Make sure you write a very strong Abstract (and in the required format for the journal). It’s the first thing that the editor, and reviewers, will look at; and if it doesn’t grab their attention and interest then they may disengage with the rest. There’s some great advice on writing abstracts in the APA 7th Publication Manual as well as on the internet (for instance, here).  

Supervisors and consultants

If you’ve had a supervisor, or supervisors, for your research work, there’s a question of how much you involve them in your publication, and whether you include them as co-author(s). At many institutions, there’s an expectation that, as the supervisor(s) have given intellectual input into the research, they should be included as co-author(s), though normally only as second or third in the list. An exception to the latter might be if a student feels like they don’t want to do any more work at all after they’ve submitted their thesis, in which case there might be an agreement that one of the supervisors take over as first author. Here, as with any other arrangement, the important bit is that it’s agreed up front and everyone is clear about what’s involved. 

Just to add, as a student, you should never be pressurised by a supervisor into letting them take the first author role. I’ve never seen this actually happen, but have heard stories of it; and if you feel under any coercion at all then do talk to your Course Director or another academic you trust.

The advantage of keeping your supervisor(s) involved is that they can then help you with writing up for publication, and that can be a major boost if they know the field and the targeted journal well. So use them: probably, the best way of getting an article published in a journal is by co-authoring it with someone who’s already published there. A way that it might work, for instance, is that you have a first go at cutting down your thesis into about the right size, and then the supervisor(s) work through the article, tidying it up and highlighting particular areas for development and cutting. Then it comes back to you for more work, then back to your supervisor(s) for checking, then back to you for a final edit before you submit.  

One final thing to add here: even though you may be working with people more senior and experienced to you, if you are first author on the paper, you need to make sure you ‘drive’ the process of writing and revising, so that it moves forward in a timely manner. So, for instance, if one of your supervisors is taking a while to get back to you, email them to follow up and see what’s happening; and make sure you always have a sense of the process as a whole. This can be tough to do, given the power relationship that would have existed if you were their supervisee; but, in my experience, the most common reason that efforts at publication fizzle out are because there’s no one really ‘holding’ or driving the process: no one making sure it does happen. Things fall through gaps: a supervisor doesn’t respond for a month or two, no one follows them up, the other supervisor wanders off, the student gets on with other things… So spend a bit of time, at the start, agreeing who’s going to be in charge of the process as a whole (normally the first author) and what roles other authors are going to have. And, if it’s agreed that you are in the driving seat, you’ve got both the right and the responsibility to follow up on people to make sure it all gets done.

How do you submit?

That takes us to the process of submitting to a journal.  So how does it work? Nearly all journals now have an online submission portal so, again, go to the journal website and that will normally take you through what you need to do. Submission generally involves registering on the site, then cutting and pasting your title and abstract into a submission box, entering the details of the author(s) and other key information, and uploading your papers. The APA 7th Manual has some great advice on how to prepare your manuscript so that it’s all ready for uploading (or see here), and if you follow that closely you should be ok for most journals.

You also normally need to upload a covering letter when you submit, which gives brief details of the paper to the Editor. This can also cover more ‘technical’ issues, like whether you have any conflicts of interest (have you evaluated, for instance, an organisation that you’re employed by?), and confirmation of ethical approval. If you’ve submitted, or published, related papers that’s also something you can disclose here. Generally, it’s fine to submit multiple papers on different aspects of your thesis, but they should be different; and it’s always good just to let the editor know so that it doesn’t come as a surprise to them later. 

Note, you definitely mustn’t submit the same paper (or similar papers) to more than one journal at any one time. That’s a real no-no. Of course, if your paper gets rejected it’s fine to try somewhere else (see below), but you could get into a horrible mess if you submitted to more than one journal in parallel (for instance, what happens if they both accept it?). So most journals ask you, on submission, to confirm that that’s the only place you’ve sent it to and that’s really important to abide by.  

What happens then?

The first thing that normally happens is that a publishing assistant will then have a quick look over your article to check that it’s in the right format. As above, they can be pretty pernickety here, and if you’re over the word limit, or not doing the right paragraph spacing, or even indenting your paragraphs when you shouldn’t, you can find your article coming back to you asking for formatting changes before it can be considered. So try and get it right first time.

Then, when it’s through that, it’s normally reviewed by the journal editor, or a deputised ‘action editor’. Here, they’re just getting a sense of whether the article is right for the journal, and at about the required level. Often papers will get rejected at that point (a desk rejection), with a standard email saying that they get a lot of submissions, they can’t review everything, it’s no comment on the quality of the paper, etc., etc. Pretty disappointing—and generally not much more feedback than that. Ugh!

If you don’t hear from the journal a week or so after submission, it generally means it’s then got through to the next stage, which is the review process. Here, the editor will invite between about two and four experts in the field to read the paper, and give their comments on it. This process is usually ‘blind’ so they won’t know who you are and you won’t know who they are. In theory, this helps to keep the process more ‘objective’: the reviewers aren’t biased by knowing who you actually are, and they don’t have to worry about ‘come back’ if they give you a bad review.  

The review process can take anything between about three weeks and three months. You can normally check progress on the journal submission website, where it will say something like ‘Under review.’ If it gets beyond three months or so, it’s not unreasonable to write to the journal and ask them (politely) how things are going. But there’s no relationship between the length of the time of the review and the eventual outcome—it’s normally just that one of the reviewers is taking too long getting back to them, and they may have had to look elsewhere. Note, even if it is taking a long time and you’re getting frustrated, you can’t send the paper off somewhere else until things are concluded with that first journal. You could withdraw the paper, but that’s fairly unusual and mostly people wait until the reviews are eventually back.

The ‘decision letter’

Assuming the paper has gone off for review, you’ll get a decision letter email from the editor. This is the most exciting—but also the most potentially heartbreaking part—of the publication process: a bit like opening the envelope with your A-level results in. Generally, this email gives you the overall decision about acceptance/rejection, a summary from the editor of comments on your paper, and then the specific text of the reviewers’ comments.

In terms of the decision itself, the best case scenario is that they just accept it as it is. But this is so rare, particularly in the better journals, that if you ever got one (and I never have), you’d probably worry that something had gone wrong with the submission and review process.

Next best is that they tell you they’re going to accept the paper, but want some revisions. Here, the editor will usually flag up the key points that they want you to address, and then you’ll have the more specific comments from the reviewers. Sometimes, journals will refer to these as ‘minor revisions’, as opposed to more ‘major revisions’, but often they don’t use this nomenclature and just say what they’d like to see changed. Frequently, they don’t even say whether the paper has been accepted or not—just that they’d like to see changes before it can be accepted—and that can be frustrating in terms of knowing exactly where you stand. Generally, though, if they don’t explicitly use the ‘r’ word (‘reject’), it’s looking good.

Then you can get a ‘reject and resubmit’. Here, the editor will say something like, ‘While we can’t accept/have to reject this version of the paper, due to some fairly serious issues or reservations, we’d like to invite you to resubmit a revision addressing the points that the reviewers have raised’. In my experience, about 60% of the time when you resubmit a rejected paper you eventually get it through, and about 40% of the time they subsequently reject it anyway. The latter is pretty frustrating when you’ve done all that extra work, but at least you’ve had a chance to rework the paper for a submission elsewhere. 

Then, there’s a straight rejection, where the editor says something fairly definitive like, ‘…. your paper will not be published in our journal.’ That’s pretty demoralising but, at least, if you’ve got to this stage, you’ve nearly always got some very helpful feedback from experts in this field to help you improve your work.

Emotionally, the editorial and reviewing feedback can be pretty bruising, especially when it’s a rejection. Reviewers don’t tend to pull punches: they say what they think—particularly, perhaps, because they’re under the cover of anonymity. So you do need to grow a fairly thick skin to stick with it.  Having said that, a good reviewer should never be diminishing, personal, or nasty.  Even when rejecting a submission, they’ll be able to highlight strengths as well as limitations, and to encourage the author to consider particular issues and pursue particular lines of enquiry, to make the best of their work and their own academic growth. So if something a reviewer says is really hurtful, it’s probably less about the quality of your work, and more about the fact that they’re being an a*$e (at least, that’s what I tell myself!).

Most journals do have some kind of appeal process if you’re really unhappy with the decision made. But you need a good, procedural argument for why you think the editorial decision was wrong (for instance, that it was totally out of step with the actual reviews, or that the reviewers hadn’t actually read your paper) and, in my experience, appeals don’t tend to get too far. However, I have heard of one or two instances of successful outcomes.

By the way, sometimes, quite quickly after you’ve started to submit papers (and possibly even before), you may be asked to review for the journal yourself. That can be a great way of getting to know the reviewing process better—from the other side. It’s also part of giving back to the academic community: if people are spending time looking at your work, it’s only fair you do the same. So do take up that opportunity if you can. There’s some very helpful reviewer guidelines here.  

Revising and resubmitting

If you’re asked to make revisions, journals will generally give you six months or so—less if they’re relatively minor. Here, it’s important to address every point raised by each of the reviewers. That doesn’t mean you have to do everything they ask for, but you do have to consider each point seriously, and if you disagree with what they’re saying, you need to have a good reason for it. Generally, you want to show an openness to feedback and criticism, rather than a defensive or a closed-minded attitude. If the editor feels like they’re going to have to fight with you on each point, they might just reject the paper on resubmission.

As well as sending back the revised papers, you’ll need to compile a covering letter indicating how you addressed each of the points that the reviewers’ raised. You may want to do this as a table as you go along: copy-pasting each of the reviewers’ points, and then giving a clear account of how you did—or why you did not—respond to that issue.

Pay particular attention to any points flagged up by the editor. Ultimately it will be their decision whether or not to accept your paper, so if they’re asking you to attend to some particular issues, make sure you do so. 

Resubmissions go back through the online portal. If the changes required are relatively minor, it may just be the editor looking over them; anything more substantive and they’ll go back to the reviewers again for comment. Bear in mind that the reviewers are often the original ones who looked at your paper, so ignore their comments at your peril.

It’s not unusual to have three or four rounds of this review process: moving, for instance, from a ‘revise and resubmit’ to ‘major revisions’ to ‘minor changes’. At worst, it can feel petty and irritating; but, at best, and far more often, it can feel like a genuine attempt by your reviewers to help you improve the paper as much as possible. The main thing here is just to be patient and accept that the process can be a lengthy one. If you’re in a rush and just desperate to get something out whatever it’s quality, you’re likely to be profoundly frustrated—unless you’re prepared to accept publication in a journal of much lower quality.  

Once it’s accepted

Yay! You got there! That’s it… not quite. It’s brilliant to have that final acceptance letter from the journal telling you that they’ll now go ahead and publish your paper, but there is still a little more to do. A few weeks after the acceptance email, they’ll send you a link to a proof of the paper, where there’ll be various, relatively minor copy-editing corrections and queries. For instance, they may suggest alternate wording for sentences they think could be improved, or ask you to provide the full details for a reference. Sometimes, this may be in two stages: with, first, a copy-edited draft of your manuscript, and then a fully formatted proof). Note, at this point, they really don’t like you to make any substantive changes, so anything you want to see in the final published article should be there in your final submitted draft.

Then that it is. Normally the paper will be out, online, a week or so after that. And once it is, you can finally celebrate, but do also make sure you let people know about the paper, and give everyone the link via social media. The journal, itself, are unlikely to do any specific promotion of the article, so it’s up to you to tell colleagues about it and encourage them to let others in the field know.

Open Access?

Although it’s great you’ve got your paper out, the final pdf version may only be available to people who have access to the journal. So students at higher education institutes are likely to be fine, as are colleagues working for large organisations like the NHS, but what about counsellors or psychotherapists who don’t have online access, and where the cost of purchasing single articles are often prohibitively high? One possibility is that you (or the institution you are affiliated to) can pay to make your article ‘open access’. However, this can cost £1000s (unless the University has a pre-established agreement with the publisher) and is not something most of us can afford.

Fortunately, journals normally allow you to post either your original submission to the journal (an ‘author’s original manuscript’, or ‘preprint’ version of your article), or your final submission (a ‘prepublication’, ‘author final’, ‘postprint’, or ‘author accepted manuscript’ version of your article) on an online research depository, such as ResearchGate. Policies vary, so check the specific policies for the journal that published your paper:

This version of your paper won’t be the exact article that you published, and it won’t have the correct pagination etc., but if you prepare it well (see an example, here), then it means that those who don’t have access to journal sites can still find, read, and cite your research. Different journals do have different policies on this, though, so make sure you check with the specific publisher of your journal before making any version of your paper publicly available. Generally, what the publishers are very vigilant about is the making available, in a public place, of the final formatted pdf of your paper (unless, as above, it’s specifically open access).

Trying elsewhere

If your paper gets rejected, your choices are (a) just to give up, (b) resend the paper as is it somewhere else, or (c) make revisions based on the feedback and then resubmit elsewhere. There’s also, of course, a lot of grey areas between (a) and (b) depending on how many changes you feel willing—and able—to make. Generally, if you can learn from the feedback and revise your paper that’s not a bad thing, and can help form a stronger submission for next time. Of course, it is always possible that the next set of reviewers will see things in a very different way; and sometimes changes made to address one set of concerns will then be picked on by the next set of reviewers as problems in themselves. As for (a), well, I promise you this: if the research is half-decent, then you can always get it published somewhere. Bear in mind that, as above, if you’ve been awarded a doctorate for your research (and, to some extent, a Master’s), it’s publishable by definition

Generally, when people get their papers rejected, they move slowly down the impact hierarchy: so to journals that might be more tolerant of the ‘imperfections’ in your paper. But there’s no harm in trying journals at a similar level of impact when you’re trying somewhere else or even higher up—particularly when you really don’t agree with the rejecting journal’s feedback.

Ultimately, it’s about persistence. To repeat: if you want to get something published, and it’s passed at doctoral (or, often, Master’s) level, you will. But it needs resilience, responsiveness, and a willing to put up with a lot of knockbacks.   

Other pathways to impacts

Journals aren’t the only place where you can get your research out to a wider audience and make an impact. For instance, you could write a synopsis of your thesis and post it online: such as on Researchgate. You won’t get as big a readership as in an established journal, but at least it will be more accessible than your university library, and you can tell people about it via social media. Or you could do a short blog about your research, or make a video, or talk to practitioners and other stakeholders about your work. If you want to make your research findings widely accessible to practitioners, you could also write about them for one of the counselling and psychotherapy magazines, like BACP’s Therapy Today or BPS’s The Psychologist.   

There’s also many different conferences that you can go to to present your findings: as an oral paper, or simply as a poster. Two of the best, for general counselling and psychotherapy research in the UK, are the annual research conference of the British Association for Counselling and Psychotherapy (BACP), and the annual conference of the BPS Division of Counselling Psychology (DCoP). Both are very friendly, encouraging, and supportive; and you’ll almost certainly receive a very warm welcome just for having the courage to present your work. At a more international level is the annual conference of the Society for Psychotherapy Research (SPR). That’s a great place to meet many of the leading lights in the psychotherapy research world, and is still a very friendly and supportive event. 

You can also think about ways in which you might want your work to have a wider social and political impact. Would it make sense, for instance, to send a summary to government bodies, or commissioners, or something to talk to your local MP about?

Of course, this could all be in addition to having a publication (rather than instead of it), but the main point here is that, if you want your research to have impact, it doesn’t just have to be through journal papers.  

To conclude…

When you’ve finished a piece of research—and particularly a long thesis—often the last thing you’ll want to be doing is reworking it into one or more publications. You can’t stand the sight of it, never want to think about it again—let alone take the research through a slow and laborious publication process. But the reality is, as people often say, the longer you leave it the harder it gets: you move away from the subject area, lose interest; and if you do want to publish at a later date, you’ll have to familiarise yourself with all the latest research (and possibly without a library resource to do so). So why not just get on with it, get it out there; and then you can have your work, properly, in the public domain, and people can use it and learn from it, and improve what they do and how they do it. And then, instead of spending the next few decades wishing you had done something with all that research, you can really, truly, have the luxury of never having to think about it again.

Acknowledgements

Many thanks to Jasmine Childs-Fegredo, Mark Donati, Edith Steffen, and trainees on the University of Roehampton Practitioner Doctorate in Counselling Psychology for comments and suggestions. 

Further Resources

There is a great, short video here from former University of Roehampton student, Dr Jane Halsall, talking about her own experience of going from thesis to published journal paper. Jane concludes, ‘You’re doing something for the field, and you’re doing something for the people who have actually taken the time out to participate. So be encouraged, and do do it.’

An accessible set of tips on publishing in scholarly is also available from the APA:

Disclaimer

The information, materials, opinions or other content (collectively Content) contained in this blog have been prepared for general information purposes. Whilst I’ve endeavoured to ensure the Content is current and accurate, the Content in this blog is not intended to constitute professional advice and should not be relied on or treated as a substitute for specific advice relevant to particular circumstances. That means that I am not responsible for, nor will be liable for any losses incurred as a result of anyone relying on the Content contained in this blog, on this website, or any external internet sites referenced in or linked in this blog.

The Discussion Section: Some Pointers

The following blog is for Master’s or doctoral level students writing research dissertations in the psychological therapies fields. The pointers are only recommendations—different trainers, supervisors, and examiners may see things very differently.

The aim of a discussion section is to discuss what your findings mean, in the context of the wider field.

As with all other parts of your dissertation, make sure that your Discussion is actually discussing the question(s) that you set out to ask.

It’s really important that your Discussion doesn’t just re-state your findings (aside from a brief summary at the start). It’s often tempting to reiterate results (just in case the reader didn’t get them the first time!), but now’s the time to move on from your findings, per se. Structuring your Discussion in a different way from your Results can be a good way of trying to ensure this. So, for instance, if you’ve presented your Results by theme, you might want to structure your Discussion by stakeholder group or by research questions.

Generally, you shouldn’t be presenting raw data in your Discussion: for instance, quotes or statistical analyses. That goes in your Results.

Similarly, try to avoid referencing lots of new literature in your Discussion. If it’s so relevant, it should be there in your Literature Review.

Make sure that your Discussion does, indeed, discuss your findings. It shouldn’t just be the second half of your Literature Review: something which bypasses your own research. Emphasise the unique contribution that your findings make, and focus on what they contribute to knowledge. Be confident and don’t underplay the importance of your own findings.

At the same time, don’t over-state the implications of your findings (particularly with regard to practice). Be realistic about what they mean/indicate, in the context of the limitations of your study, as well as its strengths.

This is your chance to be creative, exploratory, and to investigate specific areas in more detail, but try to ensure that it’s always grounded in the data: what you found or what others have found previously. So not just wild speculation.

What’s unexpected in your results? What’s surprising? What’s counter-intuitive? What’s anomalous? Your Discussion is a great opportunity to bring these out to the fore more fully and explore them in depth.

Typical sections of a discussion section (often in approximately this order)

  • Brief summary of your findings (but keep it brief—just a concise but comprehensive paragraph or two).

  • What your findings mean, in the context of the previous literature. So, for instance, how they compare with/contrast/confirm/challenge previous evidence and theory. This is also an opportunity for you to untangle, and to try and explain, complex/ambiguous/unexpected findings in more depth.

    • This would normally be the bulk of your Discussion. It may be appropriate to structure this section by your research questions, or by the themes in your results. If you do the latter, though, as above, be careful that you’re not just reiterating your findings.

    • Remember that you don’t need to give equal weight/space to all your findings. If some are much more interesting/important than others, it’s fine to focus your Discussion more on those; though all key findings should be touched on at some point in the Discussion.

  • Limitations. This should be a good few paragraphs. Try to say how the limitations might have affected the results (e.g., ‘a volunteer sample means that they may have been more positive than is representative’) rather than just what the flaws in the study were, per se.

    • Be critical of what you did; but from a place of reflective, appreciative awareness, rather than self-flagellation. The point here is not to beat yourself up, but to show that you can learn, intelligently; just as you did something, intelligently.

  • Implications for clinical practice. Also, if relevant, implications for policy, training, supervision, etc.

    • Try to keep this really concrete: what would someone do differently, based on what you found.  So, for instance, not just, ‘These findings may inform practitioners that….’ But, ‘Based on these findings, practitioners should….’

  • Specific implications for your specific discipline: e.g., counselling psychology/counselling/psychotherapy.

  • Suggestions for further research.

  • Reflexivity: what have you learnt from the study, both in content and in practice.

Conclusion: this can be a brief statement bringing all your thesis together.

Appendices

Following your references, you are likely to want to append various documents to your thesis. These can include:

  • Participant-facing forms: e.g., information sheets, consent forms, adverts.

  • Full interview schedule.

  • Additional quantitative analyses and tables.

  • A transcript of one interview (but bear in mind confidentiality—this may not be appropriate). This could also show your coding of that interview.

  • All text coded under one particular theme/subtheme, for the reader to get a sense of how you grouped data together (again, bear in mind confidentiality).

(Image by Muhammad Rafizeldi, Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license)

The Results Section: Some pointers

The Results section is the beating heart of your research. You’ve set out on your quest. You’ve told the reader what’s known so far (the Literature Review), and then how you’re going to answer your question (the Methods). Now, finally, after thousands of words of wait, you’re going to tell us what you’ve found out. How did clients, for instance, actually experience transactional analysis, or was there any relationship between therapists’ levels of self-awareness and their outcomes? So fanfare, please, because it’s what we’re all dying to find out about. Put more prosaically, don’t just mutter away your finding under tables or jargon or lengthy quotes that never really tell us what you actually discovered. Own it, make it exciting, tell us—as clearly and succinctly as you can—about the answers that you’ve found.

Two thing, I think, can have a tendency to act as killjoys to the Results section. First is social constructionism. I say this as a (sort of) social constructionist myself, but the problem is that this mindset can take you so far away from the idea that there is anything out there ‘to be discovered’ that the findings, themselves, become almost an irrelevancy. Instead, the focus becomes on the method and the epistemological positioning behind it; and while that might be of some interest, personally, I think it’s only a vehicle to what is most exciting and interesting about research, and that’s discovery. Second, is the researcher’s own lack of self-confidence. If you are a novice researcher, you may feel that what you, yourself, are discovering isn’t really worth much, so you don’t feel there’s really much point emphasising it. If, at some level, you do feel that, it’s worth reflecting on it and thinking about what your research really can contribute. You need to feel, and you need to show, that you are adding something, somewhere.

Another general point: by the time you completed data collection, your data—whether it’s qualitative or quantitative—is likely to be large, complex, messy, and easily overwhelming. Like a dense forest. And that means that when you write it up, your reader—let alone yourself—can easily get lost. So a good write-up really needs to guide the reader through the results. Make it easier for them to find their way—not harder. Remember that you will have spent weeks, maybe months, getting to know your data, so what might seem obvious and clear to you may be entirely unfamiliar to your reader.  Hold their hand as you walk them through it. And if there’s things that, actually, you don’t really understand, don’t just present it to your readers in the vague hope that they’ll get it even if you don’t. Remember, you’re the expert, the leader here (see The Research Mindset). So you need to process and digest the data, make full sense of it yourself, and then present it to your readers in a way that they can easily grasp. Think ‘bird digesting food before it feeds it to its chicks’. You need to do the work of digestion, so that what the reader is fed is as consumable and nourishing as possible.

When leading your reader through the forest of your findings, one really important thing is to try and be as consistent as possible in how you report your results. For instance, don’t report frequencies in the first half of your qualitative write-up but not in the second; or shift from two to three decimal places after the first few analyses. Make rules for yourself about how you are going to report things (and write them down, if necessary) and then stick to them all the way through. And keep the same terms throughout. If, for instance, you switch between ‘patients’ and ‘participants’ and ‘young people ‘ to refer to the people who took part in your study, your reader might be wondering if these are all the same things or different. And, particularly importantly, use exactly the same terms for themes, categories etc. throughout. It might be obvious to you, for instance, that ‘Boosting Self-Esteem’ is the same as ‘Building Self-Confidence’, but for the reader who isn’t inside your head it can get really confusing trying to work out what is what if the terms keep changing.

Qualitative analysis

For a 25,000 word thesis, a qualitative Results section may be 8,000 words or so.

That means it is can be a good idea to give a table of the overall structure of your analysis and themes/subthemes at the start of your Results. However, if you give a table, you should ensure that the wording of the themes/subthemes on the table matches, exactly, the headings/subheadings in your narrative account of the results. Otherwise, it can confuse them even more!

Frequency counts in the table and/or in the text (usually the number of participants who were coded within a particular theme/subtheme), can help give the reader a sense of how representative different themes/subthemes are.  Some researchers dislike this as it can feel too ‘quanty’ (‘small q’) and inconsistent with a ‘Big Q’ qualitative worldview (for discussion of big and small q qualitative research see, for instance, here). It may also be seen as suggesting more precision and generalisability than there actually is.  One option, in the narrative, is to use a system that labels different frequencies within broad bands. The most common one was developed in consensual qualitative research (see, for instance, here), and uses the terms:

  • ‘general’: for themes that apply to all cases

  • ‘typical’: for themes that apply to at least half of cases

  • ‘variant’: for themes that apply to at least two or three, but fewer than half, of cases

An alternative ‘scoring scheme’ for qualitative analysis is detailed here.

In your narrative, it’s generally a good idea to use subheadings (and, if necessary, sub-subheadings) to break the analysis up, and to make it clear to the reader where they are in the account. Nearly always, these would be a direct match to your themes/subthemes/sub-subthemes. Alternatively, for your sub-subthemes, you can italicise the title in the text (making sure it matches what is in the table) to help orientate the reader.

Direct quotes from your participants are an important way of evidencing your themes and subthemes, and really bringing your analysis ‘to life’. They make it clear that your analysis is not just based on theoretical conjectures, but on the realities of people’s narratives and experiences.

However, make sure that you integrate/summarise, in your own words, what participants are saying, rather than just presenting long series of quotes with just a few words in between. Anyone can cut and paste quotes from a transcript to a dissertation. If that’s all your doing, it may fill up your word count, but it really doesn’t show your understanding of what your participants are saying, and how their different accounts fit together. So don’t use quotes as a substitute for a comprehensive and thorough analysis of what your data mean.  And where you do quote your participants, always make it clear what you are trying to ‘say’ with that quote (rather than just dropping it in, and leaving the reader to work it out for themselves), for instance:

  • ‘Sarah’s experiences at the start of transactional analysis illustrate how this approach can be experienced as very holding: “When I first went to the therapist…”

  • ‘Some participants said that they really valued the psychoeducational component of transactional analysis: ‘I immediately recognised my Parent, Adult, and Child ego states, and found it could help me make sense of so many of my problems’ (Ashok, Line 234).

  • Although most participants like the psychoeducational aspect of transactional analysis, a couple had mixed responses. Gemma, for instance, said:

She kept on going on about ‘strokes’, and I just- it seemed a bit jargony…

Along these lines, while long quotes can be very helpful in giving the reader an extended sense of what participants have said, if they illustrate, or evidence, many different points, you may be better off breaking them down into shorter segments so you can clearly explain what each part means.

The format of text in your results can be the same as throughout the rest of your thesis. So, for instance, only indent quotes that are 40 words or more long, don’t italicise quotes, put full stop before the reference for the quote if indented (and after if in the body of the text).

For referencing quotes, you should normally give the pseudonym of the person saying it, and a reference to where it is in their transcript (e.g., line number). So, for instance, ‘… (Mary, Line 230)’. 

Normally, references to other literature should not be in the Results. Save that for the Discussion.

Finally, above and beyond all the pointers above, it’s important that the way you write your results is consistent with your method and epistemology.  So, for instance, if you have adopted a social constructionist epistemology, don’t start making realist claims like, ‘Men were more defensive than females…’   Generally, the more realist your approach, the more you may want to use tables, frequency counts, etc.; while more constructionist epistemologies may lead to less structured and quantified analyses.   

Quantitative analysis

A quantitative Results section is likely to be shorter than a qualitative one, so for a 25,000 word thesis, perhaps 4,000 words or so, though this can vary enormously depending on content.

Rather than just presenting stats and leaving it to the reader to interpret it, make sure you explicitly state what your findings mean (e.g., ‘Chi-squared tests indicate that men were significantly more likely than women to…’). In particular, be clear about which group was higher/lower than which.

In describing your findings, use precise language. Is it ‘significant’/’non-significant’?, refer to the specific effect size and stats: not, ‘This seems to indicate that men were a bit more empathic than women,’ but ‘Men were significantly more empathic than women (F = …).

Remember that, if you are using inferential tests, something is either significant or not. You can generally get away with talking about a ‘trend’ if the p value is between .1 and .05, but be very cautious; and make sure you don’t spend a lot of time interpreting or discussing non-significant findings.

Don’t just rely on significance tests. Give confidence intervals wherever possible and also effect sizes.

Be consistent in how many decimal points you use, and use only as many as is meaningful.  Does it really help the reader, for instance, to know results down to four decimal points? Often just one is enough for means and standard deviations, maybe two or three for p-values. That can also make it clearer for the reader to see what the findings are.

Remember that, with the vast majority of statistical tests, you cannot prove the null hypothesis, so be sure to avoid phrases like: ‘This indicates that men and women had equivalent levels of empathy,’ rather, ‘the difference in levels of empathy between men and women was non-significant.’

Although graphs can look pretty (especially with lots of colours), tables are often a more precise means of presenting data, and generally mean that you can present much more data at once.

It’s rarely a good idea to just cut-and-paste SPSS tables – better to re-enter the data as a Word table so that you can get the formatting of the table appropriate to the journal.

The APA Publication Manual (7th edition) has some great guidance on how to format and present all aspects of quantitative statistics.  It can also help you make sure that you stay consistent in how you format your Results—as well as other parts of your paper. An essential companion, particularly if you are doing quantitative analysis. Further pointers on quantitative analysis are available here.

Disclaimer

 The information, materials, opinions or other content (collectively Content) contained in this blog have been prepared for general information purposes. Whilst I have endeavoured to ensure the Content is current and accurate, the Content in this blog is not intended to constitute professional advice and should not be relied on or treated as a substitute for specific advice relevant to particular circumstances. That means that I am not responsible for, nor will be liable for any losses incurred as a result of anyone relying on the Content contained in this blog, on this website, or any external internet sites referenced in or linked in this blog.

The Methods Section: Some Pointers

The following blog is for Master’s or doctoral level students writing research dissertations in the psychological therapies fields. The pointers are only recommendations—different trainers, supervisors, and examiners may see things very differently.

What should go into the Methods chapter of a thesis, and how much should you write in each area? The headings, below, describe the typical sections, content areas, and approximate length . The suggested word lengths are in the context of a 25,000-30,000 word thesis, and may be a bit more expanded for a longer dissertation (and obviously more condensed for a shorter one).

Epistemology

(Approx. 2,000-3,000 words).

This is often a requirement of Master’s or doctoral level theses, and is a key place in which you can demonstrate the depth and complexity of your understanding. This may be a separate chapter on its own, or placed somewhere else in the thesis.

  • Critical discussion of epistemology adopted (e.g., realist, social constructionist)

  • Links to actual method used

  • Consideration/rejection of alternative epistemologies. 

Design

(Approx. 50-500 words).

  • Formal/technical statement of the design: e.g., ‘this is a thematic analysis study drawing on semi-structured interviews, based in a critical realist epistemology’

  • Any critical/controversial/unusual design issues that need discussing/justifying.

Participants

(Approx. 500 words).

  • Site of recruitment: Where they came from/context

  • Eligibility criteria: inclusion and exclusion

  • Demographics (a table here is generally a good idea: can by one participant per row if small N, or one variable per row if large N)

    • Gender

    • Age (range/mean)

    • Ethnicity

    • Disability

    • Socioeconomic status/level of education

    • Professional background/experience: training, years of practice, type of employment, orientation

  • Participant flow chart/description of numbers through recruitment: e.g., numbers contacted, number screened, numbers consented/didn’t consent (and reasons). Also organisations contacted, recruited, etc.  

Measures/Tools

(Approx. 500 words).

  • Interview schedule

    • Nature of interviews: e.g., structured/semi-structured? How many questions?

    • Give key questions

    • Prompts?

    • (Full schedule can go in appendix)

  • Measures (including any demographics questionnaire): a paragraph or two on each

    • Brief description

    • Background

    • What it is intended to measure

    • Example item(s)

    • Psychometrics:

      • reliability (esp. internal reliability, test/retest)

      • validity (esp. convergent validity)

Procedure

(Approx. 500-1000 words).

  • What was the participants’ journey through the study: e.g., recruitment, screening, information about the study, consent, interview (how long?), debrief, follow up

  • Nature of any intervention: type of intervention (including manualisation, adherence, etc), practitioners…  

Ethics

(Approx. 500 words).

  • Statement/description of formal ethical approval

  • Key ethical issues that arose and how they were dealt with 

Analysis

(Approx. 1,000-2,000 words).

  • What method used

  • Critical description of method (with contemporary references)

  • Rationale for adopting method

  • Consideration/rejection of alternative methods

  • Stages of method as actually conducted (including auditing/review stages) 

Reflexive statement

(Approx. 250 words).

Remember that the point of your reflexive statement here is not to give a short run-down of your life. It’s about disclosing any biases or assumptions you might have regarding your research question. We will all have biases, and by being open about them you can be transparent in your thesis and all the reader, themselves, to judge whether your results might be skewed in any way.

  • What’s your position in relation to this study?

  • What might your biases/assumptions be? 

The Literature Review: Some Pointers

A video based on this blog filmed with Rory at Counselling Tutor

Aims

The purpose of a literature review is to bring together what is known, so far, in relation to the question(s) being asked. So, for a decent literature review, the first thing is to be really clear about its aims and the questions you are asking (see Research aims and questions: Some pointers).

A literature review is not an essay. When people write an essay, what they generally do is to draw together various bits of theory and research to try and make one (or several) points. An essay is about constructing an argument and then justifying it. But a literature review is different. You’re not trying to make a point in it or prove something you already believe in. Rather, you’re asking a question and then trying to answer it by searching out all the relevant literature in relation to that question. If you know the answer to your question(s) before you’ve done your literature review then something is not quite right. A literature review, as with all research, should be based on answering a question you don’t know the answer to.

The Scope of a literature review

From degree level to Master’s level to doctoral level (Levels 6, 7, and 8, respectively, in the QAA Frameworks for Higher Education Qualifications), a literature review should demonstrate a systematic understanding of some element of a particular field. In addition, from Master’s to doctoral level, this should be increasingly at the forefront of a discipline and creating original knowledge; and, at doctoral level, meriting journal publication. To achieve all this, it means that your research question(s) needs to be focused and narrow enough to allow for a systematic understanding.  If there’s too much literature on your question to know it all, your question is probably too broad—try narrowing it down.  

Ask yourself, ‘What might I feel confident in saying that I systematically understand, that I can be a leading expert on?’  If that feels way above what you can achieve, narrow your focus down until it’s really possible for you to believe you’re a leading expert in it. So, for instance, if you’re asking a question like, ‘What is the relationship between empathy and therapeutic outcomes?’ you’ll soon find out that it’s going to take a lifetime to lead expertise here: there’s hundreds of research papers on it. But the relationship between self-disclosure and therapeutic outcomes in person-centred therapy—there’s maybe a dozen or so key papers here that means that some level of leading expertise is within your grasp. 

Remember—particularly for Master’s and doctoral level—you also need to be at the forefront of a field.  Not what was talked about 20 years ago, but what is being discussed and debated now.  If you find most of your references are back in the 1980s and 1990s, think about why there’s nothing more current.  Is it that people have stopped being interested in this question?  Is it that you’ve missed the latest research?

At Master’s level, you need to demonstrate mastery of a field.  That is, not just that you know the literature, but that you can do things with it: e.g., evaluate the reliability of different sources of evidence, compare, and contrast ideas. At doctoral level, you should be able to demonstrate, not only mastery, but an ability to do things with the literature in independent and original ways: e.g., come up with new interpretations and perspectives. So at both Master’s and doctoral level, you need to be able to go beyond simply describing relevant literature or findings, towards producing a synthesised understanding of the current state of knowledge in relation to your research questions.

Be critical.  This doesn’t mean insulting or attacking specific pieces of work—e.g., ‘What a tw*t Smith (2007) is for saying…’—and it doesn’t mean finding flaws in research for the sake of it. What it means is being able to extract from the literature what is relevant to your own research question(s), and to evaluate its importance to you.  That might mean, for instance, saying that the participants in a particular study were all White, so the findings may not be generalisable to people of other ethnicities; or that the use of quantitative methods means that we don’t really understand the mechanisms of change.

It’s not the end of the world if there’s one or two or papers that you’ve missed. Everyone misses things, and your examiners/assessors are likely to understand. But try to avoid having big gaps in your review, where whole areas of literature have been overlooked. That’s where systematic reviews can really come in handy.

doing a literature review systematically

Systematic literature reviews are reviews of the literature that have a series of explicitly-stated stages. This might include specifying your search terms, reporting on your ‘hits’, and systematically analysing your findings. They also focus on answering an explicitly-stated question. Different teaching programmes have different requirements about whether a literature review should be ‘systematic’ or not but, often, it’s an indication of higher quality, robustness, and transparency. However, there’s not one form of a systematic literature review and, in general, it can be considered on a spectrum: from highly systematic reviews (including, for instance, multiple coders, see below), to reviews with some systematic elements (such as an explicitly-articulated search strategy). A literature review may also have one or more systematic sections, rather than being a systematic literature review in its entirety. For instance, you might start a literature review by exploring a particular area, identify a question that seems of importance, and then go on to conduct a systematic review of what is known in relation to that question.

Ideally, the stages of a systematic literature review are set out before you start as a written protocol. You can see an example of one here, which we developed to examine the factors that facilitated and inhibited integration in child mental health services (see published paper here). This protocol covers such areas as:

  • Aims

  • Eligibility criteria for studies (i.e., which studies you’ll accept for review)

    • Study characteristics (e.g., only empirical studies, only studies of young people)

    • Report characteristics (e.g., only studies after 1990, only English language)

  • Information sources (i.e., where you’ll look for studies, see below)

  • Study selection procedures

  • Planned method of analysis

Feel free to use the headings from our protocol for your own review.

There’s a very well-established set of guidelines that set out standards and expectations for reviews (particularly quantitative ones), the Preferred Reporting Items for Systematic Reviews and Meta-Analyses (PRISMA). All the elements detailed here aren’t normally considered necessary for a Master’s or doctoral level review, but even if you don’t do a full systematic review, you may want to draw on certain parts (such as a ‘flow chart’ of the references you used, see below).

At minimum, for any kind of literature review, it is generally useful to show how you went about ensuring that you identified relevant literature in your area. For instance, you could include your search terms, and information about the databases searched, in your Appendix). Probably what’s most important is to show that your literature search, and write-up, weren’t just ad hoc. That is, that you didn’t just ‘cherry pick’ certain bits of literature, or arbitrarily select the papers from a five minute search of Google Scholar. However, you do it, you want to make it clear that you conducted a systematic, comprehensive, and meaningful review of the field: one that gave you the best chance of answering your own research question(s) to the fullest.

Study selection procedures

Generally, the best way to start finding articles for review is by setting out the different concepts within your study (for instance, as a table), and then brainstorming all the different terms that might be used to cover those concepts. For instance, if you were doing a review of research on person-centred therapy and autism, you might develop one set of terms for research (e.g., ‘empirical’, ‘study’, ‘evidence’…), one set for person-centred therapy (e.g., ‘person-centred’, ‘client-centred’, ‘client-centered’…), and one set for autism (e.g., ‘autism’, ‘asperger’s’, autistic…). To begin with, try and generate as many relevant terms as possible, and don’t forget that you want to include US-spelling as well as UK-spelling (like ‘person-centred’ and ‘person-centered’). Different search engines have different ‘wild cards’ that you can use (like * or $), which is where you specify just part of the word. For instance, if you want to search texts with ‘counselling’, ‘counsellor’, ‘counseling’, ‘counselor’, ‘counselled’, etc., you may be able to just use ‘counsel*’ (check the help sites on the specific search you are using). Importantly, you’ll also need to select the field that you want to search in. For instance, do you want to find sources with this term in the title, the abstract, or anywhere in the text—different field selections will give very different sets of results.

Below is an example of the search strategy that we used for our paper on interagency collaboration in child mental health services. You can see that we searched for terms about integration, and then also about children/young people, and mental issues. They needed to be post-1995 (and the study was conducted in 2015). The asterixes are wild cards that we used to ensure we didn’t miss terms with slightly different endings.

Example search strategy for review of integration in child mental health services

Although, ideally, this search strategy is set out before you do your search, it is inevitably going to be an iterative process: moving between testing out particular strategies, seeing how many hits you get, then revising the strategy to either broaden or narrow down the number of hits. For instance, you might start with a search that has ‘child*’ anywhere in the text, but because you get tens of thousands of hits, you revise this to require ‘child*’ to be in the title. As you start to see your hits, you may also want to include additional search terms for your concepts.

Very approximately, you want to find a search strategy that gets you, initially, something like 200 to 2000 hits. More than that becomes unmanageable. Less than that and you’re possibly missing some key articles. What you then do is to go through all the titles, or maybe the titles and abstracts, and identify just those that seem relevant to your review. Inevitably you’ll reject the majority of your hits: for instance, they might not be empirical papers, or they might use the term ‘person-centred’ to mean something entirely different from what you are looking at. That will then leave you with a smaller number of articles where you then might read through the whole paper to see if the article is relevant. Again, when you do that you’ll end up excluding a lot of your papers.

Ideally, particularly at Master’s and doctoral level, you should be keeping track of all the hits/articles you are reviewing and selecting/excluding at each stage. The ideal way to present that is through a Study flow diagram. Below is an example of such a diagram from our study of integration in child mental health services. You’ll see that there were a number of stages, and we explicitly state why we excluded certain papers. This level of detail may only be needed for doctoral or journal publishing level, but at any level you can use even a simple flow diagram to show key elements in the study selection process.

Example study flow diagram for review of integration in child mental health services

Just to add, at publishable level (and, ideally, at doctoral level), it’s good to be able to show some degree of ‘inter-rater reliability’ in the study selection process. What this means is that the selections made were not just down to the particularities of the individual researcher, but would be replicable across different researchers. The way that you do this is to have someone else (say a course colleague) do some of the selection process to, and then see how much similarity there was across selections. For instance, based on reading the full papers, what proportion of papers that you identified as eligible did a colleague also identify as eligible? If that’s less than, say, 50% or so, it suggests that there’s a lot of individual variation in what would be considered eligible for your review, and the criteria may need some tightening up.

If you know there are papers that are relevant to your review but aren’t coming up through your search strategy, that means there’s something wrong with the strategy. Have a look at why it’s not picking up those key papers and revise the strategy accordingly: if it’s missing those papers, it’s also possibly missing other papers that are important to your review. At the end of the day, saying ‘Well, I excluded Papers X and Y because they didn’t come up in my search strategy,’ isn’t enough. Your search strategy should be a tool for finding relevant texts, not the criteria, per se, of what is or is not relevant.

As well as using search engines, a key source to draw on is the reference list in the articles that you have found. Citation searches reverse that process, and can also be extremely helpful. In a citation search, you take key articles and then look at the subsequent articles that have referenced that article. That way, you find the very latest research related to that work. To do a citation search, you simply find the key article on a database and then click on the ‘citations’ link (or in Google Scholar, ‘Cited by…’). You can see this circled in red on the screenshot below:

Example ‘Cited by’ hyperlink in Google Scholar

By the end of this study selection process, you want to end up with somewhere between about five and 30-40 papers for inclusion in your review. More than that and you may well struggle to meaningfully integrate the findings. Less than that and your review is going to be more and more simply a re-statement of what the papers found. But if you’ve asked a really important, meaningful question, conducted a really thorough search, and then just found there isn’t anything out there—or only one or two studies—that can be a meaningful outcome in itself. Importantly, too, don’t take it as a sign of personal failure if you haven’t found any literature out there. The reality is, on a lot of counselling- and psychotherapy-related questions, there just isn’t much research. But identifying that can be really helpful in letting the field know areas to focus on for future.

Information sources

This may depend on the databases that your institution has access to. At minimum, you would ideally want to search Web of Science and PsychInfo, two of the principal sources for psychology-related papers. Google Scholar makes a useful addition to this: it can help you identify a different range of papers, more of the ‘grey’ literature. Don’t worry too much about your university or college library: that’s inevitably going to have a relatively limited array of books and journals.

How do I make my case?

As emphasised earlier, if you’re thinking, ‘How do I construct an argument so that I can show that I’ve got some good ideas here?’ you may be asking the wrong question for a literature review.  That’s fine for an introductory section of a thesis—showing why your question is of importance and relevance—but, as above, the aim of a literature review is to provide a balanced review of what we know so far in relation to a particular question, not to convince the reader of something.  So if the structure of your literature review goes something like, ‘Well x is really important, and so is y, and that means z is likely [and so I’m going to do some research now to show it is]’ you may need to backtrack.  Remember, ask yourself, ‘What is it that I don’t know that I am trying to find out?’  Trying to prove a point is never a great basis for a piece of research.

Format of the write-up

In most cases in the counselling and psychotherapy field, reviews will be of a qualitative nature (i.e., written up in words)—and that’s what I’ll address here. There are also reviews that mathematically combine data, known as meta-analysis. These have their own particular methods (see, for instance, Practical meta-analysis) and are best conducted using dedicated software, such as Comprehensive Meta-analysis.

Use headings and subheadings in each of the sections to keep a clear structure to the paper, and make sure that the hierarchy of these headings is clear to the reader: i.e., make the higher level headings bigger, bolder, etc. as compared with lower order headings. Some pointers on formatting and presenting your work are available here.

You will probably want to start your literature review with a short section detailing the method by which you went about your literature search. Even if you didn’t use a systematic method throughout, it’s worth saying something of how you searched the literature, so that the reader has a sense of what you might have found—and missed.

A table of the final articles that you included in your review can be really helpful, either at the start of the review or as an appendix. Each paper can be a row, and then you can have various key features in the columns, such as the location of the study, the number of participants, key findings, etc. An example—the first few rows from our review of integration in child mental health services—is below.

Example table of studies for review of integration in child mental health services

Try to avoid ‘laundry list’ reviews: ‘stringing together sets of notes on relevant papers’ (McLeod, 1994, p.20) one after another.  For instance:

  • Smith (1992) found that…..

  • And Brown (2011) found that…

  • And Jones (1996) found that…

  • And then Patel et al. (2001) found that…

Or narrative/historical version of a laundry list review: For instance:

  • First, Smith (1992) found that…..

  • Then Jones (1996) found that…

  • Then Patel et al. (2001) found that…

  • Then Brown (2011) found that…

Remember that, particularly at Master’s and doctoral level, a literature review is not just about précising previous research in the field: providing summaries of what lots of different studies said.  It’s about drawing the research together in coherent and meaningful ways.

So wherever possible, adopt a thematic style of review.  ‘This strategy involves the identification of distinct issues or questions that run through the area of research under consideration. Thematic literature reviews enable the writer to create meaningful groupings of papers in different aspects of a topic.  This is therefore a highly flexible style of review, in which the complex nature of work in an area of area can be respected while at the same time bringing some degree of order and organisation to the material’ (McLeod, 1994, p.20).  In a thematic review, it is likely that several different sources will be cited in one paragraph.

  • Some research has shown A… (Jones, 1996; Smith, 1992)

  • But other research has shown B (Patel et al., 2001; Jones, 1996), although there are some problems with these findings (Grey et al., 1990).

  • More broadly, we know that Z… (White and Brown, 2001; Yellow, 2010).

  • And there is also some research to suggest X (Blue, 2003; Grey, 1994).

  • What we know so far, then, is that A seems very likely, and that is supported by Z and X, though B raises some problems about this.  

When you review the literature, you don’t need to ascribe every study equal weight and space.  Indeed, if you are, it probably suggests you’re being too descriptive and not discriminating enough.  Some of the studies you look at will be spot-on relevant to your own research, some only tangentially so.  So if you’re extracting what’s really most meaningful to your own questions, you should be taking a lot more from some sources than others.  You’re not reviewing to make all these authors feel like they’re being paid due regard.  You’re reviewing to take what you need from their work to say what we currently know in relation to your question(s).  If content isn’t relevant, leave it out.  If it’s highly relevant, say a lot about it.

A thematic approach really allows you to show a high-level, synthesised understanding.

Whenever you make claims about how things are (for instance, ‘empathy is a key factor in therapeutic outcomes’), you must always provide some reference for this.

Make sure you explicitly state somewhere, either at the end of the literature review or in your design, what the main aims/objectives of your study are, and, if relevant, your hypothesis/hypotheses.

Wherever possible, go back to the original sources and reference those, rather than ‘cited in….’  Citations never looks great—that you haven’t bothered to consult the original sources.  If you really can’t access the original source (e.g., it’s in another language, or out of publication and unavailable), that’s fine, but use citations sparingly.  And be really careful not to take references from a secondary source and cite them as if you have read them: find out what the original authors really said.

EVIDENCE or theory?

Your literature review might be of evidence in relation to a particular question: for instance, ‘How do clients experience person-centred therapy?’ Alternatively, it might be of theoretical propositions: for instance, ‘What is a relational psychodynamic theory of development?’ It could also combine evidence and theory, for instance, ‘What is the relationship between alliance and outcomes for young people?’ There’s no right or wrong here—it is entirely dependent on your question.

What is important, however, is to be clear about when you’re reviewing theory and when you’re reviewing evidence. So, when you write up your review, try not to mix up theoretical statements like, ‘Rogers hypothesised that….’ with empirical statements like, ‘Greenberg et al. found that…’ What someone thinks (even if it was Carl Rogers!), and what someone actually found, are quite separate things. So if you are covering both in your review, it may be an idea to write them up as separate sections.

Just to note, also be careful about mixing up primary studies (e.g., specific pieces of empirical research), with reviews or ‘meta-analyses’ of the field. For instance, you may find through your search strategies a number of papers which review primary studies in relation to a particular question. That’s great, but then use that review to identify the primary studies, and include or exclude those primary studies in your review, as appropriate. You could then note the reviews papers in your introduction, and say about how your review is different. Alternatively, you could do a review of reviews in a field—if there’s a logic in bringing them together and it would be redundant to replicate the review process. But, again, don’t mix that up with a review of primary studies—do one or the other, and be clear about which it is.

The 'target' approach to structuring your literature review

One way to think about structuring your literature review is like a ‘target’. Start with the evidence that is most relevant to your research question (and perhaps do a systematic review of it). Then what else might be most closely relevant? For instance, if you’re doing a study on negative experiences of young people in person-centred therapy, you’d want to start by looking comprehensively for everything on that specific question. But if there’s not much, then you could review the research on negative experiences of young people in other therapies, then negative experiences of adults in person-centred therapy. The more literature there is at the ‘bullseye’ of your target, the less you need to go broader. But if there’s really not much (and that’s fine), then broaden out to literature from which we might be able to extrapolate potential answers to your question(s).

Target approach to writing up a literature review

The ‘pyramid’ approach to structuring your literature review

Another common approach is the pyramid one, where you start with the broadest area of literature on your topic, and then narrow downwards to more specific knowledge leading on to your research question.

Pyramid approach to writing up a literature review

Summary

Ultimately, a literature review is not about showing that you are smart and know things, or that you can follow a pre-specified methodology.  It’s about drawing on all your knowledge and skills to present your best understanding of the answers to your question(s), to date. 

You are to become the master in this field. And your reader is looking to you to give them an informed, rigorous, and up to date understanding. Sometimes, the hardest bit of doing a literature review is feeling the confidence to be able to do that (see my blog on the Research mindset). But you can, providing you choose your scope and your methods wisely.

Further reading

There are several texts on how to write a literature review, relevant to the counselling and psychotherapy field. Torgerson’s Systematic reviews is a good general introduction. 7 steps to a comprehensive literature review has been recommended to me, and there is the popular Doing a literature review in health and social care. John McLeod’s classic Doing research in counselling and psychotherapy gives some excellent guidance on reading the literature (Chapter 2).

Acknowledgements

Photo by Jakirseu, CC BY-SA 4.0

Disclaimer

The information, materials, opinions, or other content (collectively Content) contained in this blog have been prepared for general information purposes. Whilst I’ve endeavoured to ensure the Content is current and accurate, the Content in this blog is not intended to constitute professional advice and should not be relied on or treated as a substitute for specific advice relevant to particular circumstances. That means that I am not responsible for, nor will be liable for any losses incurred as a result of anyone relying on the Content contained in this blog, on this website, or any external internet sites referenced in or linked in this blog.

Writing: Some Pointers

We all have different ways that we like to write, but it's not something that often gets talked about. So here's the stages that I go through when I'm writing something academic. It's maybe not the most creative and free-flowing method; but it ends up with a fairly coherent, clearly structured and comprehensive text which, ironically, people often say reads with a real flow. If you're just setting out on writing essays for a course, or have been doing it for some time but want to improve, you may find some useful ideas here for your own writing.

  1. I start off by spending some time reading through books, chapters and papers on the topic. This might involve a literature search, for instance on Google Scholar. Years ago, I used to make handwritten notes on everything I read; but these days I just pencil notes directly onto the book (except if it's a library one!) or paper. This makes the process vastly quicker, meaning that I can cover much more literature in whatever time I have. My notes generally just consist of a word or a short sentence, reminding myself of what I want to cover in my paper. Being obsessive/pedantic, I've even developed a 'star system' over time: two stars if I definitely want to cover a point, one star if I want to review it later, and underlining any other text that seems important.

  2. Either before, after, or alongside the reading, I work out a 'skeleton' structure for my paper. I'll either do that using the Style/Headings feature on Office Word (and I always do that at some point, see below), or I'll do it with the bullet point feature, so i can do higher and lower level bullet points. I'll revise and check over that a few times, to make sure it makes sense, and that it's answering the question. If you're writing an assignment for a course, this is something that can be really helpful to run past your tutor or supervisor, so that you know you are on the right lines.

  3. I go back over all my notes and type out the points and quotes I want into my document, under the appropriate heading/sub-heading/sub-sub-heading. This is where the headings and sub-headings on Office Word are essential, to give a structure that I can then flesh out. At this stage, I always make sure I add in where the reference came from (both text and page number): so that I can go back to it later if I need to check, and also so that I don't have to scrabble round for references at a later date. Referencing software, like Endnote, can be invaluable here.

  4. I read over what I have in my document, move things about using cut and paste, change headings and subheadings, etc. Until I'm a bit happier with the structure.

  5. I do a very very rough first draft. What I call 'Draft 0'. It's awful, I give myself permission for it to be, but it's essentially just getting all my points together in some kind of logical sequence so that they roughly follow on one from the other. This often involves some changing around of the structure. I'd never let anyone read it at this point!

  6. I go back over it all and try and get a half-decent first draft. Now that I don't need to be consulting my sources when I'm writing, I can get more flow into it. Often, at this stage, I'll be rewriting the whole of what I wrote at the previous stage, or large parts of it. Personally, I often find that rewriting from scratch gives more sense of flow. But only if I'm feeling in flow! This is also where being a fairly fluent typist helps. It's really difficult to do this if you're poking away one finger at a time (see 'Six things that can really help improve your writing' blog entry).

  7. And then I go back over it and over it again until I'm happy with it -- sometimes three or four further rewrites; sometimes from scratch again, but building up on the previous text and ideas. A lot of it is dependent, as above, on whether I'm feeling in flow and can just 'run' all the way through it, or through particular sections of it. But having the previously drafted text there is really essential for me in terms of having the content and the material to build on. So even if I am re-writing something afresh, I've always got in front of me what I was trying to say. At this stage, a lot the process feels to be about really trying to bring out the essence of what I am wanting to communicate. It's not about trying to find cleverer words, but going back over it again and again and thinking, 'What do I really want to say here?'

  8. Getting feedback from others is essential for me, as part of finishing off a piece of writing. Generally, apart from the skeleton structure, I won't ask for much feedback until I'm at least two or three drafts in, and am fairly happy with it. I ask a few people that I trust, and who I know will be honest with me. And, ideally, I can say to them the specific things I'd like feedback on and the level at which I'd want it (for instance, if I'm a few days away from a deadline, I'll make that clear to people so they don't spend time giving me extensive comments I won't be able to work through). If you're working on an assignment, I would really recommend that you try and run it past peers or friends or family at some point. And the more specific you can be about what you want from them, the better you can use their time.

 

For me, the process of writing is a bit like what I imagine painting can be. You start off with building the canvas, then some loose pencil sketches to get a sense of what you are going to do, then slapping things down, then refining over and over again with an increasingly fine brush. I don't always love it, but I do love getting to the end and seeing the finished product. and there's everthing I want to say there: in the right place, and saying it like I really want it to.

 

Five Simple Ways to Radically Improve your Papers

A lot of us hate writing essays or papers.  And there's nothing worse than going to all that effort and then getting your work failed, rejected or slated. So here's five things that you might want to learn (if you don't know them already) that can help you improve your writing--and perhaps even help you enjoy it a little more.

  1. Touch typing. If you're poking away at your keyboard with one finger at a time, it's really going to make it difficult for you to write with fluency and gusto. You want to be able to capture all those ideas flowing out of you, and then you want to feel fine about writing and rewriting and re-editing without worrying about how much time it's going to take. So try out one of those touch typing programmes if you're a slow typist. Yup, that means using your little finger too, but it'll be worth it. I said to my 12-year old son just recently that touch typing was one of the most important skills I ever learnt in my life (Answer, ‘Dad, that’s so sad!’).

  2. Styles. Not Harry. Yes, those annoying things at the top of your screen on Microsoft Word. They might seem pointless, but they're a great way of being able to organise your essay, particularly the different levels of headings. Essentially, if you attribute a style to your headings, and then use the headings tab in navigations, you can see the outline of your essay as you are going along. It means that you've always got a sense of the overall shape of your essay, can put things where they need to go, and means that you'll end up with a much more coherently structured piece of work.

  3. Reference software. Programs like Endnote or Refworks are amazing, and there's ways of using them on the Web for free. Essentially, they keep a list of all the text you've read through, and then you can really easily paste them into your essay as and when needed. Brilliant thing is that they also do the reference list for you and if you need to change your style of referencing... hey presto! They can do that at the touch of a button. Never scrabble around amongst your files for references again.

  4. Formatting. There's so many things about how to format that are really easy to learn. If you're doing a psychology or counselling course, I'd strongly, strongly recommend getting hold of the APA 7th Publication manual, having a really good read through of it, and then just keeping it as a deskside guide every time you're writing essays. It tells you everything you need to know: how to reference, what to put in the different sections of a research paper, how many spaces you should have after a full stop, etcetera, etcetera. Of course, it's the content of an essay that ultimately counts, but if you use a standardised format your writing will look really professional and you'll be able to express your ideas in the clearest possible way. And once you get into the habit of it it will just stick with you, so why not learn it now?

  5. Citation searches. Say you've found a really brilliant book, or research article, on just the topic you're working on. Great. Only problem is, it was written back in 1957: Has anyone done anything relevant since? Citation searches are a really cool way of finding out. Go to Google Scholar (or even better an online database like PsychINFO if your library gives you access to it), search up the text you like, and then click on 'Cited by'. That'll tell you everything since then that references your original text. And, of course, if you find anything else you like, you can citation search that one as well.