The nature of “normal” research, as practiced by the vast majority of researchers, is that it is incremental. Research designs typically build on the work of prior research. Existing standards of rigour are, more or less, upheld. Findings conform, to a greater or lesser extent, with what was predicted. There is nothing inherently wrong with this process, yet the incremental nature of research designs tends to lead to incremental contributions. With time, and considerable effort, these findings can accumulate into something more substantial, but it tends to be a slow and drawn-out process. Is this the best way to build knowledge in a time of rapid technological change? Occasionally a more radically innovative contribution is developed. It may take the form of a new theory that departs in some significant way from prior work. It may be a new method, tool, or technique that goes beyond the mere tweaking of earlier methods, tools, and techniques. In more revolutionary forms, the new contribution may be so novel, so groundbreaking, that it destroys the very foundations of earlier work, setting out a new paradigm for future work (Kuhn, 1962). This revolutionary approach to research is sparked by a person sometimes referred to as an iconoclast. Iconoclasts are, probably fortunately, few and far between. Fortunately, because too much destruction means too little accumulation of knowledge and experience, too little repetition of what works before it is overthrown, and too much risk that faulty paradigms will emerge and consume our limited attention. Pagel (2012) observes that copying is an excellent survival technique: we do not all need to be iconoclastic innovators. Berns (2010, pp. 5–6) defines an iconoclast as “a person who does something that others say can't be done,” noting that the Nobel prize is “the crown-jewel of paradigm-shifting iconoclastic thinking.” In order to do what others say cannot be done, the budding iconoclast must both be familiar with prior work and yet also embrace novelty and even “alien thinking” (cf. Davison, 2017). The act of embracing novelty requires challenging the current state of the art, developing a compelling new narrative and design, and then putting that design into practice, demonstrating its superiority over earlier instantiations. This kind of work takes many years or lifetimes: iconoclasts start the process, but their work needs to be accepted and mainstreamed by many others for the new ideas to be more widely accepted. Novelty often inspires fear because we tend to shun unfamiliar things. Fear thus acts as an inhibitor of novelty. In the context of academic research, there are three specific fears: fear of uncertainty, fear of failure, and fear of public ridicule (Berns, 2010). First, the fear of uncertainty is often rooted in cultural norms, whether of societies or professional associations. For instance, we may be uncertain as to whether we have expressed a new idea in a logical and convincing way; if our supporting arguments are strong enough; if a particular course of action is safe. Second, the fear of failure may relate to any harm that results from a new idea, whether this be harm to others or to oneself. The fear of failure can be a powerful driver of inaction. Third, the fear of public ridicule exists in the social dimension. It is the fear of being mocked, laughed at, pilloried, or worse. A fear of public ridicule is not so distant from a fear of loss of reputation, of professional ostracism, of damage to one's career, of being labeled as a heretic, and (symbolically) burned at the stake! For instance, such fears are often present in the minds of junior researchers who have so much to gain in their future careers and yet so much to lose if they “make mistakes” now. Many years ago, I recall a senior professor advising me (as a Ph.D. student) not to touch “culture” in my research, because as a topic it was too dangerous. He counseled me to engage with safer topics that would presumably have less chance of uncertainty, failure, or public ridicule. Successful iconoclasts will have convinced the majority of noniconoclast researchers of the veracity of their ideas. This requires social intelligence and eloquence. It may also require tapping into the fears of the audience and DOI: 10.1111/isj.12278

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研究贡献：反传统者的作用

正如绝大多数研究人员所实践的那样，“正常”研究的本质是它是渐进的。研究设计通常建立在先前研究的工作之上。现有的严格标准或多或少得到了维护。调查结果或多或少与预测相符。这个过程本身并没有错，但研究设计的增量性质往往会导致增量贡献。随着时间的推移和相当大的努力，这些发现可以积累成更实质性的东西，但它往往是一个缓慢而漫长的过程。这是在技术快速变化的时代积累知识的最佳方式吗？有时会产生更激进的创新贡献。它可能采取一种新理论的形式，在某些重要方面与先前的工作有所不同。这可能是一种新的方法，工具或技术，不仅仅是对早期方法、工具和技术的调整。在更具革命性的形式中，新的贡献可能是如此新颖、如此具有开创性，以至于它破坏了早期工作的基础，为未来的工作树立了新的范式（Kuhn，1962）。这种革命性的研究方法是由一个有时被称为反传统的人发起的。幸运的是，反传统的人很少，而且相去甚远。幸运的是，因为太多的破坏意味着知识和经验的积累太少，在被推翻之前行之有效的东西的重复太少，以及出现错误范式并消耗我们有限注意力的风险太大。Pagel (2012) 观察到复制是一种极好的生存技巧：我们并不都需要成为打破传统的创新者。伯恩斯 (2010, pp. 5-6) 将反传统者定义为“做了别人说做不到的事情的人”，并指出诺贝尔奖是“范式转变反传统思维的皇冠上的明珠”。为了做别人说不能做的事情，初出茅庐的反传统者必须既熟悉以前的工作，又要接受新奇甚至“异类思维”（参见戴维森，2017）。拥抱新奇的行为需要挑战当前的艺术状态，开发引人入胜的新叙事和设计，然后将该设计付诸实践，展示其优于早期实例的优势。这种工作需要很多年或一生：反传统者开始这个过程，但他们的工作需要被许多其他人接受和主流化，新想法才能被更广泛地接受。新奇事物常常会激发恐惧，因为我们倾向于避开不熟悉的事物。因此，恐惧是新奇事物的抑制剂。在学术研究的背景下，存在三种具体的恐惧：对不确定性的恐惧、对失败的恐惧和对公众嘲笑的恐惧（Berns，2010）。首先，对不确定性的恐惧往往植根于文化规范，无论是社会还是专业协会。例如，我们可能不确定我们是否以合乎逻辑和令人信服的方式表达了一个新想法；如果我们的支持论据足够有力；如果特定的行动过程是安全的。其次，对失败的恐惧可能与新想法造成的任何伤害有关，无论是对他人还是对自己的伤害。对失败的恐惧可能是无所作为的强大驱动力。第三，社会层面存在对公众嘲笑的恐惧。这是对被嘲笑、嘲笑、嘲笑或更糟的恐惧。对公众嘲笑的恐惧与对名誉受损、职业排斥、职业受损、被贴上异端标签和（象征性地）被处以火刑的恐惧并没有那么遥远！例如，这种恐惧经常出现在初级研究人员的脑海中，他们在未来的职业生涯中有很多收获，但如果现在“犯错”就会失去很多。许多年前，我记得一位资深教授建议我（作为博士生）在研究中不要触及“文化”，因为作为一个话题，它太危险了。他建议我参与更安全的话题，这些话题可能不太可能出现不确定性、失败或公众嘲笑。成功的反传统者将使大多数非反传统的研究人员相信他们的想法的真实性。这需要社交智慧和口才。它还可能需要挖掘观众和 DOI 的恐惧：10.1111/isj.12278