What does it mean to study nationalism, migration, and “counterterrorism” online when you are not a distant observer but part of the very community under scrutiny? Mohammad Siddiqui is a PhD student in Political Science, reflects on the experience of studying the current, politically sensitive issues in the US and India as a scholar embedded in the community, and the hidden emotional labour that rarely makes it into journal articles but shapes the heart of scholarship.

Reading well written, thoroughly researched, and incisive articles, whether in investigative journalism or within academia is always a rewarding experience. Yet while we know that there is often a long and gruelling process behind these polished papers, the nature of that process differs across works and different subject areas, and the emotions at play often remain hidden from the reader.

In the social sciences, in particular, we are often trained to follow a “positivist” epistemology. This is where researchers and scholars are encouraged and assumed to remain detached, neutral, and emotionless; it is based on an approach that mimics research in the physical and natural sciences. However, many social science concepts or ideas are intrinsically tied to our own values. They act as “lenses,” or “thick concepts” that shape how we see the world. Instead of pretending to be neutral, it’s more important to recognise, question, and consciously interrogate all our assumptions. 

Much philosophical work explores the nature, origin, and limits of our knowledge, often reflecting on how ways of acquiring knowledge shift across different time periods. They range from natural science approaches or epistemologies which assume that an objective reality exists and is waiting to be discovered. There are assumptions that see researchers as within and part of the world they are, making the idea of an entirely “objective reality” both implausible and not particularly helpful for complex, especially for social science research questions. But in reality, unless a paper is directly about such epistemological issues itself, it seldom dives into these important deeper epistemic questions. Even less attention is given to how researchers navigate the emotional impacts of their work.

In this blog, I will not just discuss the intricacies and practical challenges of carrying out a method, but I’ll also reflect on my experiences with epistemologies and the ways I managed my emotions during the research process. I also intend to provide some tips for other scholars who may be confronting similar emotional challenges in their own research.

Beyond the Impact of Researchers’ Emotions: Reflecting on the Emotional Impact of Research.

In two of my recent papers, which were both focused on political discourse and the motivators behind certain discourse, I grappled with the emotional impact of carrying out this kind of research 

The first paper, published in the journal, Politikon in June 2025, provides comparative insights on how the United States (US) and India strategically deploy terms such as “counterterrorist” and “resistance fighter” discourse to bolster ally groups or oppose enemy groups. It shows that these labels are often less about what groups actually do and more about how the government dealt with them. The second paper, published in the Third World Quarterly,builds our knowledge on the ways in which ordinary social media users in India construct right-wing nationalist discourse, particularly focusing on love jihad—a conspiracy theory that alleges Muslim men lure Hindu women with false promises of love in order to convert them.

Conducting this research pushed me to reflect on epistemologies, disciplinary norms, and the importance of questioning assumptions that we often taken for granted. Both papers were difficult to write, but also very rewarding. The challenges came from several directions. Firstly, there is a general reluctance to touch sensitive topics in terrorism studies. Outside the academy, it is also risky for a PhD student to be writing critical papers against the incumbent US and Indian governments. This is partly for legal reasons due to institutional practices, but also studying the subjects of counterterrorism and right-wing nationalism can be emotionally unsettling. This strain can be more intense when working from a non-positivist perspective where the scholar believes that they are embedded within rather than detached from their “subjects.” But regardless of one’s epistemological or moral stance, prolonged exposure to state oppression, dehumanising narratives about fellow humans, and explicit hate speech inevitably takes a heavy emotional toll.

Navigating these challenges is, in itself, a capacity-building and upskilling exercise that makes future work easier. Building valuable connections beyond the research inquiry itself also helps create community and enhances the impact of research beyond academic publications. For me, deciding to push through despite the risks and discomfort also reinforced the aspiration to be a scholar in the fuller sense rather than simply settling into a cautious academic role moulded by neoliberal market pressures.

Reimagining  “Terrorism,” “Extremism,” and Methodological Approaches

Conventional studies on terrorism in the past often assumed that it is straightforward to objectively identify “terrorism.” Where such assumptions were questioned, those critiques were often sidelined by mainstream research, especially when projects were funded by governments. In response, the field of critical terrorism studies has emerged, in the past few decades, offering more reflective approaches and challenging conventional research that, in many cases, amounts to “counterinsurgency masquerading as political science.” 

A great deal of research highlights the misrepresentations produced at the onset of the Global War on Terror that used global “counterterrorism” as a cover for regime change and geopolitics. Still, these foreign policy practices continue to be used, and remain highly resilient. This makes it all the more important to continue producing work to expose and document these dynamics and to accumulate evidence for scholars, activists, and policymakers.

An important step forward is to approach the study of terrorism through a constructivist lens. This approach avoids a purely militaristic point of view. Rather than immediately trying to “solve” a “problem,” it asks what the “problem” itself is by interrogating legal categories, labels, their histories and the processes through which they came about, and the reasons why they are applied. 

“The creation of scientific truths is never neutral” and accepting “truths” uncritically without question only reinforces existing power relations. In global politics, conventional studies and government narratives often present violence as objective, which involves deciding whose violence is legitimate, and then deciding what kind of responses are justified. This is particularly the case in contemporary India and the US, where the states, despite being historically different in their foreign policy approaches, are converging in their own acts of state terrorism and the labelling of dissenters, even those who are often peaceful, as terrorists.

For instance, in my paper on love jihad for Third World Quarterly, I unpack a popular conspiracy spread by right-wing nationalists in India that Muslims are accused of pursuing and luring Hindu women with false promises of love to ultimately harm them or convert them to Islam. Complementing other work that focused on how media houses, influencers, and nationalist organisations spread this conspiracy through pamphleteering, social media discussion prompts, and in-person rallies, I conducted a discourse analysis on ordinary users’ posts on Twitter (now X) to identify how these nationalist narratives are constructed. The “love jihad” conspiracy is designed to seem like a genuine, single issue, but users also emphasise different and often overlapping issues, such as wanting greater control over Hindu women’s choices and lives or reinforcing tropes that Muslims are predators and terrorists in general.

Both  papers show that focusing on meaning-making through  interpretivist and constructivist approaches provide important insights that can guide further research. While these approaches are admittedly less suited for policy-oriented “problem-solving” they can still inform policy when combined  with other forms of data, (for example, by providing more data on who spreads love jihad rhetoric).

Navigating the Emotional Impactful of Challenging Research Areas

Researching topics like terrorism and right-wing extremism brings constant emotional challenges. As a ‘Mohammad’ studying “counterterrorist” and nationalist narratives, there were several moments in the research process that I found difficult. I first started the project during a public policy course asking the following question: Who set the love jihad agenda, and why? Reading dozens of articles around the goals of Hindutva, India’s right-wing nationalism,  for university credit, while also feeling personally targeted because of my identity, further blurred the lines between my work, the personal, and the political. 

As I further developed the project, I was increasingly challenged emotionally, as the task I set myself was to essentially go through hundreds of Hindutva tweets, many of which wanted to see Mohammads, Abduls, and Khans expulsed from India. I was never a fan of Twitter (now X). Normally, I’d open the platform once a month, scroll through a handful of hateful posts before closing it, and remembering quickly why I don’t usually use it. But for this project (and for others), I had to lock myself in.

When I began these projects, I, to my detriment, did not have a plan to systematically manage my emotional responses to the constant and high exposure to right-wing nationalist content. However, as I embarked upon other work examining right-wing extremism in and beyond India, I realised that having better self safeguarding practices was necessary. The first thing I did was set up a burner account to review right-wing content, so I could draw a clear and hard line between my research and my personal social media use.

I eventually came across an article by the Global Network on Extremism & Technology about managing the challenges of studying emotionally difficult topics. This advice is important especially where the researcher is also a stakeholder and therefore finds the ideas of staying neutral, and disconnected both difficult and impractical. The article suggests that researchers should set research time limits, avoiding exposure to sensitive content towards the end of the day. It also said that you should consciously plan activities that support emotional regulation, and rely on community support.

The simplest form of finding community support while conducting research is to stay connected with family, friends, and others either seeking their support or just venting about what you encounter and talking about how to overcome various difficulties. Beyond this, scholars can also build “researcher-subject” solidarities with other academics in the very communities they study. I found talking with other community members helpful as it not only created space for social connection but also opened up opportunities to learn from perspectives outside of academia.

Since research often takes place in contexts where neutrality is a myth, adopting critical, reflexive and embedded approaches can enhance scholarship and create value to communities in ways beyond simple financial compensations. Although these two projects did not involve directly working with human participants, their findings have the potential to be useful in both future activist work or scholar-activist work. 

Later in my research, I did use focus groups to study resistance against Hindutva. In these sessions, I adopted a reflexive position, rather than pretending to be detached. This openness not only generated richer insights but also enabled more meaningful conversations, framed not solely as my work but as our shared work. Entangled with the research process itself, these discussions became a form of collective care, where participants and I could exchange information and resources in ways that supported each other beyond the study itself.

Concluding Thoughts: Don’t Just Explain the World, Try to Change It

In today’s world where the academy is increasingly becoming neoliberal, research is often paywalled, and most academic work does not reach the public. It is important that scholars push back against these changes by actively seeking out meaningful relationships with the stakeholders who work in the same areas of research. 

For those who resonate with Marx’s statement that the point of philosophy is not just to explain the world but to then change it, going beyond emotionless objectivity is crucial. 

There are many ways to achieve this, but in this reflection I have emphasised  how rethinking epistemologies and the traditional  “researcher-subject” relationships can provide important starting points. At the same time, whilst tackling this type of work, it is also essential to maintain a proper system for your own emotional regulation, well-being and self-care, especially when studying topics that are both personally and socially sensitive.