Reciprocation: A Relational Ethic for Research and Practice

Reciprocation is often defined as a mutual exchange, where one gives back in response to receiving. The Oxford English Dictionary describes it as “the practice of exchanging things with others for mutual benefit.” This is perhaps why reciprocation in research and community practice is often actions or behaviours that are quite transactional, with an exchange of money or vouchers for time and life stories. For me, reciprocation is a relational ethic: a way of honouring contributions, building trust, and resisting extractive systems.

For postgraduate and early career researchers (PGRs and ECRs), especially those working with marginalised communities or in voluntary sector partnerships, reciprocation is central to ethical practice. It asks us to move beyond (just) “impact” as a metric and toward meaningful, context-sensitive action. Reciprocation is something I believe we should ask of ourselves more often.

What Does Reciprocation Look Like?

Dynamic relationships, not static transactions, determine reciprocity. It’s a people-centred ethical process, as discussed by sociologists such as Dewey (1938) and Freire (2017). In my own work with people seeking sanctuary, it has meant a dynamic in which I have:

• Contributed arts & crafts materials to groups and families I visited and met during my field work.
• Translated research findings into direct teaching and support
• Gifted participants copies of published work that includes their narratives
• Informally helped/mentored with course applications, job searches, and navigating systems

These actions aren’t “extras” added onto my research process. They’re integral parts of a commitment to relational accountability. As Linda Tuhiwai Smith (1999) argues in Decolonizing Methodologies, ethical research must be grounded in respect, reciprocity, and relevance to those involved.

Reciprocation also plays out in peer relationships. I couldn’t directly “pay back” or return the favour to an individual who supported me through my PhD (fielding panicked calls, helping establish a research group, co-authoring papers). Instead, I pass that support forward: creating virtual spaces for PGRs during the pandemic, mentoring students facing supervisory challenges, and sharing tips, ideas, and resources. Reciprocity practised this way echoes, for me, bell hooks’ (1994) framing of education as a practice of freedom where support flows laterally and collectively, not just hierarchically.

Friendship, too, is a site of reciprocation. I’ve stood by friends through mental health crises, defended them at personal cost, and offered space without judgment. In turn, they’ve shown up for me by celebrating milestones, listening deeply, and holding space. We don’t keep score. We trust that support will flow as needed.

What Reciprocation Is Not

Reciprocation is not the same as transactions. A transaction may be mutually agreeable, but it lacks relational depth. Nor is it exploitation – the act of using others for personal gain without meaningful exchange or acknowledgement.

Examples of exploitation in research and practice include:

• Extracting life stories for academic benefit without giving back
• Failing to cite or acknowledge contributors
• Using perceived vulnerability (one’s own or someone else’s) to gain access, then discarding relationships when no longer “useful”

Erasure is particularly harmful. It occurs when someone benefits from another’s labour or ideas while minimising or obscuring their contribution. Payment alone does not resolve this. Money or vouchers may be offered for time/effort/information, but without relational accountability, exploitation remains (Bhattacharya, 2017).

Power, Perception, and Possibility

Reciprocation is shaped by power. Those with institutional, social, or economic power must be especially mindful of how they engage with others. But power is not always visible. People perceived as strong or capable (a stereotype often associated with Black women) are frequently overlooked or used, their needs dismissed because of convenient assumptions about their resilience (Crenshaw, 1991; Collins, 2000). The perception of capability is used as a tool for further discrimination and exclusion.

Anyone can reciprocate, and anyone can exploit. The key is intentionality: recognising the dynamics at play, honouring contributions, and creating space for others to thrive. Reciprocation is not a checklist but rather a practice of ethical relationality.

For researchers and practitioners working across sectors, this means asking:

• Who benefits from this work?
• How are contributions acknowledged?
• What does giving back look like in this context?

Reciprocation is not always symmetrical, but it should always be thoughtful. It’s how we build trust, sustain relationships, and ensure that our work reflects the values we claim to hold. And when embedded in learning environments, it can quietly support the kind of social and transformative learning that bell hooks describes, where mutual care and critical reflection open the door to real change.

References

• Ahmed, S. (2012). On Being Included: Racism and Diversity in Institutional Life. Duke University Press.
• Bhattacharya, K. (2017). Fundamentals of Qualitative Research: A Practical Guide. Routledge.
• Collins, P. H. (2000). Black Feminist Thought: Knowledge, Consciousness, and the Politics of Empowerment. Routledge.
• Crenshaw, K. (1991). Mapping the Margins: Intersectionality, Identity Politics, and Violence against Women of Color. Stanford Law Review, 43(6), 1241–1299.
• Dewey, J. (1938). Experience and Education. New York: Macmillan Company.
• Freire, P. & Ramos, M.B. (2017). Pedagogy of the Oppressed. London: Penguin Books.
• hooks, b. (1994). Teaching to Transgress: Education as the Practice of Freedom. Routledge.
• Smith, L. T. (2012). Decolonizing Methodologies: Research and Indigenous Peoples (2nd ed.). Zed Books.
• Tuhiwai Smith, L. (1999). Decolonizing Methodologies: Research and Indigenous Peoples. Zed Books.