Pegasus Flies
Last week a cartoon in The New Yorker caught my eye: a middle-aged man in a conference room, pointing to an easel in front of confused-looking coworkers. On the easel is a drawing of the presenter, sitting on a Pegasus-like winged horse, flying over a rainbow.
The caption reads: "Impressive, Meyers, but let's stick to your quantitative projections."
Suddenly I felt like I was back in our conference room, in the middle of a staff meeting we had about a month ago. We had gathered to discuss a journal article on focus group research that was passed along by one of our long-time clients. Everyone had already read the article, and we convened to go over some of its more pertinent points.
While we have qualitative and quantitative specialists here at The Taylor Group, most of our staff members are experienced in both qualitative and quantitative work. But I've noticed that most people have their favorites. And these feelings were certainly on display during our discussion.
Now you should know that when our staff gets together to discuss an issue, people really get into it. There's no holding back. Recently, during an internal seminar on writing, a 10-minute debate on contractions broke out, with both sides passionately making their cases, trying to persuade the fence-sitters to join their group.
This meeting, like the infamous contraction discussion, started out calmly enough. We were pretty much in agreement that we enjoyed the article and began to discuss some of its more significant aspects.
But after a while -- and I have to admit I'm not exactly sure how it happened -- the tenor changed. Sides were taken. Pro-qual and pro-quant teams formed and suddenly we were debating the merits of focus group research. It was as if the man on the winged horse had swooped into the room and changed the dynamic of the discussion.
The arguments were made: The sample size is too small, and participant selection is not sufficiently random, to be representative of the whole population. There's always a chance that some group members echo the sentiments of others rather than disagree, or make comments for the sake of effect. Moderators in focus groups are too important and end up serving as participants, which could affect the findings.
Political observers emphasize "controlling the message." And this conversation was suddenly being controlled by the pro-quant side. After all, we'd gone from discussing focus group techniques to talking about whether focus groups were legitimate research. Advantage, pro-quanters.
But in response, most of our staff settled into the pro-qual camp -- a coalition of partisan pro-qualers and moderators who found the anti-focus-group position of the pro-quanters too militant. They kept hammering on one main point -- that focus groups, when conducted properly, do exactly what they are designed to do: provide the emotional depth and breadth of customer opinion within which statistical data is lodged. And that argument resonated with most of our staff. The pendulum had swung toward the pro-qualers.
Of course, that didn't stop the vocal minority from trying to persuade their coworkers. We have a few newer colleagues who have joined us within the last six months, people who haven't yet formed methodological preferences, and they represented the undecided voters that each camp tried to drag into their own.
On and on it went. About an hour later, with perhaps a few feathers ruffled, we had completed our discussion.
Much like in politics, few minds were probably changed. But just as a thorough airing of the issues is always good for democracy, this discussion was good for us.
It allowed the quantitative specialists to raise some legitimate issues they have with focus group research. And it forced the qualitative researchers to defend what they do, how they do it, and what they believe in.



