Image from WSU

Around 2012 or 2013, while I was living in Texas and working on my PhD dissertation, a Nepali engineering student asked me a question that I still remember very clearly.

“Dai, do you also do research?”

He was genuinely curious. In his understanding, research meant laboratories, engineering designs, chemical reactions, surveys, statistics, or scientific experiments. Since I was studying rhetoric and composition, he could not fully understand what “research” meant in my field.

At first, the question surprised me. But over time, I realized that it was not a foolish question at all. In fact, it revealed a much larger misunderstanding about research itself.

Today, as a professor teaching Critical Research and Writing, I often begin my classes with this story. I ask my students whether my Nepali brother was wrong to ask that question.

Almost every semester, students say no.

Then I ask them another question.

What is research?

That simple question usually changes the atmosphere of the classroom.

In rhetoric and composition, we often teach students that writing itself is a form of research. Scholar Stuart Greene argues that writing begins with understanding what others have already said before entering the conversation ourselves. Research and writing are both forms of conversation. We read, listen, observe, and understand existing discussions before adding our own perspectives.

In many ways, writing and research are attempts to enter an ongoing conversation responsibly. We try to identify what has already been discussed, what has been ignored, and what still needs to be said. Then we contribute something from our own position and experience.

That position matters a great deal because none of us see the world neutrally. Our politics, culture, education, identity, and experiences shape how we interpret reality.

I often use CNN and Fox News as examples in my classes. Watching these two networks cover the same event can feel like living in two completely different worlds. One approaches issues from a more liberal perspective while the other frames them through a conservative lens. The event may be the same, but the language, emphasis, visuals, experts, and conclusions can look completely different.

This is why understanding positionality is important. Research is never simply about collecting information. It is also about interpretation.

Research is also much more ordinary than many people realize. Almost everyone already does research in everyday life without calling it research.

Before buying a shirt on Amazon, people compare prices, read customer reviews, examine ratings, and watch product videos. Before booking flights through Expedia or Priceline, people compare airlines, ticket prices, baggage rules, layovers, hotel reviews, and cancellation policies. Even choosing a restaurant often involves reading comments, scrolling through photos, and checking recommendations online.

What is all of that if not research?

People gather information, compare perspectives, evaluate credibility, and make decisions. Research is not limited to universities or laboratories. It is part of ordinary life.

At the same time, we should not automatically confuse statistics or scientific language with absolute truth. A few years ago, I came across two different research articles about rice consumption. One argued that rice contributes significantly to obesity and recommended reducing rice intake. Another argued that rice itself is not the problem and claimed that processed fast food, burgers, and sugary drinks contribute much more to unhealthy weight gain.

Both studies interviewed people. Both consulted experts and dieticians. Both collected data and used statistical analysis. Both presented themselves as scientific research. Yet they reached very different conclusions.

Why?

Because research is shaped by methodology, assumptions, funding sources, and intended audiences. This does not mean research is fake or meaningless. It means research must always be approached critically.

Today, we are living in a deeply polarized world. Politics, media, culture, and ideology divide people more intensely than ever before. Information surrounds us constantly through television, newspapers, social media, YouTube, TikTok, roadside billboards, and phone screens. Everything seems available instantly.

Ironically, this is exactly why firsthand observation and primary research have become more important than ever before.

We are drowning in interpretations. Everyone is presenting “facts” from their own perspective. In such a world, our own observation, lived experience, careful reading, and critical thinking matter deeply.

This is why I tell my students not to passively trust everything they see, hear, or read. We should ask questions constantly.

Who produced this knowledge?

Who funded it?

What assumptions shape it?

Whose voices are included?

Whose experiences are ignored?

Research is not simply about finding facts. It is about understanding how knowledge itself is constructed.

Perhaps this is why rhetoric and composition remains such an important field today. Our field reminds people that language is never simply language. Writing is not merely grammar. Research is not simply numbers. Knowledge is shaped through dialogue, disagreement, experience, interpretation, and public conversation.

The question my Nepali brother asked me years ago still stays with me.

“Dai, do you also do research?”

Today, I would answer him differently.

“Yes. We all do. The real question is whether we do it critically, ethically, and responsibly.”