Unprecedented challenges in the spheres of health, global justice, environmental degradation and climate change characterize our current era. This situation constitutes a call to all of humanity to respond. Arguably it comes with an even greater call to those in privileged positions—including, for instance, academics. In other words, today’s complex problems call for societal transformation, and this in turn calls for not only new knowledge, but also new ways of producing knowledge and new ways of dealing with different knowledges. Ways that transgress age-old boundaries associated with epistemic and social hegemonic systems, like the boundaries between what is human and what is not, and between what counts as scientific and what does not. We are convinced that working towards the practical, material and just resolution of urgent, complex real-world problems requires co-creating better knowledges and better stories (Altınay & Pető, 2022), and that this should be done together with those affected by or interested in these problems—irrespective of whether they are researchers rooted in any one discipline or interdiscipline, or whether they belong to any other type of stakeholder group, featuring whatever form of relevant (experiential) expertise. We thus need transdisciplinarity for transformation.

This book serves as a guiding beacon for early-career academics navigating the complexities of transdisciplinarity for transformation, offering diverse examples of what transdisciplinarity for transformation can be. Irrespective of whether you are interested in, for instance, environmental sustainability, health system transformation or queer or child rights, this volume will illuminate the power and challenges of transdisciplinarity in catalysing meaningful change and shaping a more resilient and equitable future in a still inhabitable world.

In this first chapter, we will first sketch in further detail what we take transdisciplinarity for transformation to mean, along the way also touching upon what is worthwhile and what is difficult about it. Subsequently, we turn to the centrality of purpose in transdisciplinarity. After that, we will provide a rough guide to the book’s overall structure, and share a number of learning questions that we have collected over the years and that we have found to be pertinent to whoever tries to practice transdisciplinarity for transformation. We conclude the chapter with learning questions because in our view this aptly expresses the spirit which we aspire to convey with this book—one of celebrating openness to the new and unexpected, of daring to acknowledge our ineptitudes and blind spots, enthusiasm for experimentation and sharing, while recognizing that there are many, and that there is much that we can already learn from and build on.

1.1 Transdisciplinarity: A Response to Persistent Problems

To understand what transdisciplinarity for transformation means and why it would be worthwhile, let us start with a question: ‘But what is the problem you are responding to?’. In our capacity as academic researchers and teachers, we consistently pose this question to our graduate (master’s and PhD) students, our academic peers and ourselves. It serves as a reminder that our research should be firmly rooted in tangible real-world problems. Problems that extend beyond the scope of academic research and reflection, and demand action—problems urging (societal) transformation.

Of course, ‘problem’ is too generic a concept, given that much of our research and the chapters in this edited volume tend to revolve around problems of a specific type: urgent, complex and persistent. Such problems might involve anything from child abuse (Ramaswamy et al., 2024, Chapter 10, this volume) to the environmental risk of wildfires (Brouwers et al., 2024, Chapter 9, this volume) and from the exclusive nature of conventional deliberations on mitigating climate change (Bruhn et al., 2024, Chapter 7, this volume) to the socio-political exclusion of refugees, queers and those at the intersection of these groups (Holle et al., 2024, Chapter 11, this volume). Problems, moreover, that are almost universally rooted in structural injustices associated with some form of infringement of safe and just (Earth) systems (Rockström et al., 2023), and that—paradoxically—tend to be reproduced partly through attempts to resolve (aspects of) them (Schuitmaker, 2012). Problems, lastly, not seldomly associated with enactments of racism, classism, capitalism, sexism, extractivism, colonialism, ableism and comparable notions, which denote some form of (explicit or implicit) belief in superiority and inferiority. With transdisciplinarity for transformation, we intend to express that our orientation towards these kinds of problems is coupled with the conviction that these take different forms—that what they look like, what they feel like, how they affect different actors, or actants, depends on who one is, where one is, how one identifies, and how this intersects or interacts with which values and needs and which knowledge one brings—among other things.

This book continues a line of work going back at least to 2009, when we defined transdisciplinary research as ‘an umbrella term for all kinds of efforts towards reflexive co-evolution of science, technology and society’ (Regeer & Bunders, 2009, p. 42). Echoing the spirit of the Zurich conference in 2000, where 800 people came together from a broad range of academic strands and social practices, we wanted to acknowledge the diversity of efforts that could be recognized under the ‘umbrella’ of transdisciplinary research, ranging from those initiated in academia, such as constructive or interactive technology assessment (Grin et al., 1997; Rip et al., 1995), Interactive Learning and Action (Bunders, 1994), and patient participation (Abma & Broerse, 2010) to efforts initiated by emerging ‘intermediaries’, with no primary academic embedding, that likewise attempt to construct interactive interfaces between science and society to address major societal challenges. These efforts, in different ways, build on decades of work across academic strands that culminated in wide calls to revise the contract between science and society by developing new interfaces that encompass ‘attempts at reflexive co-evolution’ (e.g. Rip, 2005). We feel it is important to highlight a few of these earlier calls as a means to open up the black box of ‘transdisciplinary research as a given’, as today, it is sometimes considered a monolithic concept that is self-explanatory and beyond critical consideration.

1.1.1 Science–Society Relations

One way of understanding what transdisciplinarity does or is, is in terms of its conception of relations between science and society. Arguably, it brings science into society and society into science. As such, it can be seen as one in a series of calls for changing the contract between science and society. Other such appeals also tend to be firmly rooted in the idea that today’s problems are highly persistent and require other modes of problem-solving than those ‘normally’ employed by policymakers and researchers alike. Many have followed the line of thinking of policy scientists Rittel and Webber (1973) in their seminal work on ‘wicked problems’, or have defined highly persistent societal problems as ‘intractable’ (Rein & Schön, 1996), ‘unstructured’ (Hoppe & Hischemoller, 1998) or as ‘grand challenges’ (Ulnicane, 2016), to refer to contemporary complex and persistent issues that defy any straightforward planning response, based on the so-called best available knowledge. These types of issues require different responses, which will be as unstructured as the problems themselves and that will also reshape relationships between citizens and government, between policy scientists and policy practitioners, and between science and society more broadly. These responses recognize that scientists do not have the monopoly on knowledge and knowledge production, and that, on the contrary, the knowledges of policymakers, practitioners and citizens should be included in attempts to resolve the major problems facing contemporary societies.

This resonates with another set of calls, this time emphasizing that our knowledge systems need rethinking. Some who argue for this do so because of the way our knowledge systems reproduce epistemic injustices (Herzog & Lepenies, 2022), others because they are based on a misconstrued self-understanding, according to which science and society are perceived to be far more distinct and neatly separated than in fact they are (Latour, 2012). Originating in different scholarly fields, others emphasize that local knowledge (Fischer, 2000), practice-based knowledge (Dampier, 2009), professional knowledge (Schön & Rein, 1994), citizen knowledge (Ostrom et al., 1978), patient knowledge (Epstein, 1996), or farmers’ knowledge (Bunders, 1994) have been excluded for too long, and that these exclusionary practices deeply pervade our current knowledge systems.

From within a wide array of academic fields or traditions, with roots in social and political sciences or the humanities, ideas such as these have been developed into full-fledged research programmes and methodological approaches. Think, for instance, of diverse research fields as Science and Technology Studies (STS), feminist science studies and care ethics, or decolonial and post-colonial studies. Although they all have their own distinctive emphases and research focus, we are more interested in the comparable sensitivities they share than in the obvious differences between them. Thus, where much of STS has been devoted to establishing the intricate interwovenness of ways of scientific knowing and social structures (Latour, 1987; Latour & Woolgar, 1979; Shapin & Schaffer, 1985), including the analysis of relations of power, knowledge and politics (Foucault, 2020; Mirowski, 2002), feminist science scholars have looked particularly at the ways in which gender biases play out in science and how the situatedness of knowledge practices matters, contributing substantially to reconceptualizing relations between identity and gender in the context of biology and technology and valuing how care offers a multi-faceted lens on relationships (Oyěwùmí, 1997; Puig de la Bellacasa, 2017; Van der Velden & and Sjåfjell, 2022). Scholars of decolonialism and post-colonial STS have analysed colonial legacies in scientific discourse and practice and argue for ways of getting beyond this, for instance through acknowledging science’s practices of exclusion and valuing centuries-old knowledges from Indigenous and traditional practices (Harding, 2011; Pollock & Subramaniam, 2016). From within all these fields, then, arguments are emerging in favour of challenging hegemonic norms and crossing epistemic and social boundaries in order to foster co-creation between actors from different intellectual, practical, professional and societal spheres.

1.2 Transdisciplinary: What Is It (Not)?

One of the most common themes to emerge in discussions with anyone newly introduced to the topic of transdisciplinary research concerns its demarcation: What is it, and what is it not? How, for instance, does transdisciplinary research relate to approaches and schools of thinking and doing, like participatory action research, engaged scholarship or appreciative inquiry? Or, to research approaches such as sustainability science, mode-2 science or post-normal science? There is a growing group of people who consider themselves as part of the transdisciplinary community—they label their work as transdisciplinary in academic papers, they organize or attend conferences under the banners of transdisciplinarity, and they use the concept in their daily practice.Footnote 1 Thus, it is through these associations and uses that the concept of ‘transdisciplinarity’ acquires meaning, not through its definition. At the same time, there is a group of people (within and outside academia)—notably a much larger group—that engages in co-creative practices around complex societal issues, with roots that long predate the current upsurge of transdisciplinary academic literature, and also far beyond the hegemony of the Western academic community, but that do not self-identify as ‘transdisciplinary’ researchers or practitioners. And yet again, it is the practices, rather than the naming of them, that are of relevance here, particularly because they seem to share a philosophy of embracing epistemological plurality, valuing the importance of contextualisation, facilitating multi-stakeholder collaboration across boundaries (whether they are disciplinary, sectoral, or multi-level), and experimental governance within an overarching orientation towards a more sustainable, just and equitable society—notwithstanding the pluriform normativity that is inherently part of each transdisciplinary endeavour.

With this book, we aim to resist the natural inclination to try to reach conceptual closure on what falls inside or outside the confines of ‘transdisciplinary research’, and instead stay close to the spirit of cutting across (academic) divides, celebrating diverse knowledges, understandings and normative plurality that is at the heart of transdisciplinary ways of working. That is also why, featured in the three parts of this book, you will find a diverse range of understandings and practices of transdisciplinarity. More important to us than underscoring the knowledge production that takes place in transdisciplinary practices, is the connection between knowledge and action in transdisciplinarity. Moreover, in this book terms like transdisciplinarity, transdisciplinary research or transdisciplinary approaches are used fairly colloquially and are treated as interchangeable. Indeed, we prefer to mobilize this conceptual leniency to underscore that not all transdisciplinary work is motivated principally by research, and has been done satisfactorily only when predetermined research aims have been achieved. Researchers neither have to be at the start of transdisciplinary projects nor at the core of (often transient) transdisciplinary collectives, as transdisciplinary work can, at least theoretically, also be undertaken from within different realms, such as policy, societal or entrepreneurial circles (Cummings et al., 2013).

In this section, we will reflect on different shades of transdisciplinarity in the segment of scholarly literature that employs the ‘transdisciplinary’ terminology before considering some of the larger volume of relevant scholarly literature that does not.

1.2.1 Different Shades of Transdisciplinarity

As Somsen and van Lunteren’s chapter in this volume eloquently elaborates, in scholarly literature on transdisciplinary research, an ‘Other’ is routinely staged to articulate transdisciplinarity’s self-identification. This Other tends to be the amalgam of approaches embraced by researchers and practitioners who feel at home in fields of mono-, multi- or interdisciplinary knowledge production. In recent years, rather than a juxtaposition, we see monodisciplinary forms of research (in all their plurality) as part of a transdisciplinary continuum. For instance, Jahn and colleagues (2022) on the basis of 59 sustainability-oriented projects identify five (transdisciplinary) research modes: (1) purely academic research; (2) practice consultation; (3) selective practitioner involvement; (4) ideal–typical transdisciplinary research; and (5) practice-oriented research, where the first mode (purely academic research) covers projects with strictly academic research (i.e. the research question was oriented towards academic problems), while aiming to realize substantial societal impact (i.e. the production of societally applicable knowledge or results is described as a goal of the project), with no non-academic actors involved in research design and execution. Similarly, Chambers and colleagues (2021), on the basis of an analysis of 32 co-production initiatives to address complex sustainability challenges, identify six modes of co-production: (1) researching solutions; (2) empowering voices; (3) brokering power; (4) reframing power; (5) navigating differences; and (6) reframing agency, in which the first mode (researching solutions) is focused primarily on generating evidence, or producing practical scientific knowledge, with the goal of informing and influencing policies and interventions, with relatively low inclusion of societal actors. Thus, recent classifications have embraced rather than juxtaposed non-participatory, non-co-creative, forms of research.

Rather than as one among multiple modes of transdisciplinarity or co-production, we can also envisage non-participatory, or non-co-creative forms of, knowledge production as an essential part of any transdisciplinary endeavour. There will be many instances where specific questions arise in transdisciplinary collaborations that demand further knowledge generation and that do not necessarily require participation or co-creation. We can thus envisage a nested structure in which transdisciplinarity encloses non-participatory, mono-, multi- or interdisciplinary research (see Fig. 1.1a). Surrounding non-participatory modes of research by transdisciplinarity can be interpreted in multiple ways. First, transdisciplinary collaboration for research agenda-setting or research design may result in a research agenda or research design including a mixed palette of sub-projects of which some could be primarily focused on non-participatory knowledge generation (e.g. in large research consortia in response to funding calls that demand that research explicitly works on societal impact through multi-stakeholder engagement, such as EU Horizon Europe, see Fig. 1.1b). In these large projects, often multiple iterations and integrative processes are included (outer circle), and still distinct mono-, multi- or interdisciplinary sub-projects can be identified (inner circle). Jahn and colleagues (2022) describe projects that come close to ideal–typical transdisciplinary research (Lang et al., 2012) as projects in which active interaction with practitioners takes place, primarily in early project stages by (co-)defining the research problem, and in the later stages of the assessment, dissemination and implementation of research results. One can only assume that between the early and later stages, some ‘conventional’ research activities also take place.

Fig. 1.1
An illustration of 3 circles labeled transdisciplinarity for transformation and the inner circle labeled non-participatory, non-creative form of research. Sub-projects in A include researching solutions. B includes multistakeholder engagement in research projects. C includes a questionnaire and in-depth interview.

a Generic nested relationship between transdisciplinarity and non-transdisciplinary (non-participatory, non-co-creative) forms of research. b Non-transdisciplinary sub-projects are nested in a larger transdisciplinary programme, with multiple sub-projects. c Non-transdisciplinary methods are nested in a single study, transdisciplinary project

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Second, we want to highlight that, especially in the case of smaller, master’s or PhD research projects, transdisciplinarity might take a different shape. Transdisciplinary research, which is generally motivated by its capacity to handle complex, real-world issues, by integrating various knowledge types, stimulating reflexive learning processes and producing durable solutions to urgent societal problems, can also be more demanding in terms of resources and time, and require skills and knowledge that are not always amply available to PhD students (Rogga & Zscheischler, 2021). Van Breda and colleagues (2016, p. 152), based on the experience of three PhD students in South Africa, concluded that ‘individual transdisciplinary research effort cannot necessarily tackle the aforementioned societal challenges in the same way as large transdisciplinary research teams’. Within smaller, sometimes even individual, transdisciplinary projects (see Fig. 1.1c), one can and will most likely employ conventional research methods (e.g. in-depth interviews, focus group discussions (FGDs), questionnaires). Being embedded in a context with a transdisciplinary intent, these regular research methods can be applied with more sensitivity to questions of power (e.g. sensitivity to the perpetuation of extractivism; considering ‘what’s in it for them?’; shifting relations from researcher-respondent to partners), as well as sensitivity to questions of agency (e.g. by employing techniques that evoke mutual sensemaking; by asking not only about problem perceptions, but also about strategies for responding to these problems, thus making use of the participants’ innovative capacities and tapping into a sense of hope, in the midst of despair that might also be thereFootnote 2). These differences can be subtle; they may relate to which location to choose for an interview, whether to sit across from each other or next to each other (or not sit at all, but walk or do something together while talking), whether the researcher takes notes in private, or notes are taken collaboratively, such as through drawing, large-size note taking (e.g. on flipchart). It is through such seemingly negligible choices that a researcher makes that substantial differences can be realized in the degree to which one manages to stimulate reflection on action and tap into people’s empathy and genuine engagement. Through this, in turn, such design choices can make a big difference in whether change is realized at the individual and collective levels—varying from something small like a mother deciding to buy an air-fryer as result of a well-facilitated FGD on healthier snacks (e.g. Iqbal et al., 2023) to multiple stakeholders coming together in their problem definition of a sustainability issue of some sort (see, e.g., Brouwers et al., this volume).

Figure 1.1 means to convey that transdisciplinarity does not preclude other types of non-transdisciplinary knowledge production—on the contrary. Mono-, multi-, or interdisciplinary forms of research, with which transdisciplinary research is often contrasted (see Chapter 2, this volume, for a problematization of this narrative), explicitly can play an important part in transdisciplinary research, as also indicated by the fact that one of the roles that is often distinguished in the context of transdisciplinary research is that of ‘traditional researcher’ (Bulten et al., 2021), or ‘pure scientist’ (Vinke-de Kruijf et al., 2022 term borrowed from Pielke, 2007, also see Gunn et al., Chapter 15, this volume, for a nuanced narrative on roles, including the ‘scientific role’). In Fig. 1.1, besides the non-participatory research activities that have been labelled ‘purely academic research’ by Jahn and colleagues (2022) and ‘researching solutions’ by Chambers and colleagues (2021), we have also included ‘intra-academic transdisciplinarity’, which Vermeulen and Witjes (2020) have used to refer to strands of transdisciplinarity that pursue a unifying theory, or forms of complex modelling that enable better understanding to inform forecasting and scenario building. Stakeholder involvement is limited, and like the other mentioned examples in the inner circle, intra-academic transdisciplinarity builds on the idea that a lack of knowledge is the principal barrier to change (Chambers et al., 2021). Many variants and in-betweens, besides 1.1b and 1.1c, can naturally be imagined. The specifics of Fig. 1.1c (i.e. the slight overlap of inner circle activities with the outer circle) can of course also be applied to Fig. 1.1b, so that sub-projects are designed and conducted with more attention and sensitivity to context, direction, power and agency. The specifics of Fig. 1.1b can also be applied in a smaller, even individual, project, for instance by involving relevant stakeholders in the design phase of the study and by co-creating recommendations, with stakeholders, based on preliminary research findings. In all cases, the ‘purely academic research’ that is situated in the inner circle will take on a different form than it would have done had the outer circle not been there; the inner circle activities are performed with a transdisciplinary ‘intent’.

Box 1.1: Burn survivor participation in research agenda-setting for burn research (based on Broerse, 2013; Broerse et al., 2010)

In 2006, burn survivors, researchers, and healthcare providers collectively formulated a research agenda for the Dutch Burns Foundation, following the transdisciplinary ‘Dialogue Model’ for research agenda-setting.

Phase 1: Exploration

Exploratory interviews (n = 10) were held with burns survivors, care and research coordinators and meetings were held with relevant organizations in the field of burn research, including patient organizations. Literature research and a desk study were undertaken.

Phase 2: In-depth study

In this phase, burn survivors and professionals were consulted separately and group-specific lists of research priorities were established. Burn survivors were consulted through FGDs (n = 37) and two additional interviews to add children’s perspectives through proxy respondents. Professionals (prevention, health care, research) were consulted through three thematic FGDs (n = 21).

A notable outcome was that during interviews (phase 1) and FGDs with burn survivors, the issue of itching frequently arose. People are driven mad by it: ‘as if millions of tiny ants are crawling under your skin’. In discussions with researchers and healthcare providers, however, itching was not mentioned. Nor was any research being conducted on this topic in the Netherlands. Healthcare providers saw it as collateral damage and patients rarely brought up itching with their doctor: ‘It’s something for home’, and there’s nothing that can be done about it anyway’. Patients thus identified a ‘blind spot’ in burn research.

Phase 3: Prioritization

The insights from phase 2 were translated into 60 topics for research and clustered in 10 research themes, which was, after pilot testing, sent out as a questionnaire to burn survivors (n = 224). The questionnaire revealed that there was broad consensus on the topic of itching. Professionals were asked to prioritize research themes and topics through various written and oral rounds (n = 12).

Phase 4. Integration

In a dialogue meeting, 14 burn survivors and 15 professionals met to further discuss and prioritize the research topics through dialogue and voting. During this multi-actor dialogue session, various researchers and healthcare providers were persuaded by patients that itching deserves much more attention. Scar itching emerged as the second priority on the joint research agenda.

Box 1.1 presents an example that illustrates how conventional social science methods can become embedded in a transdisciplinary framework. There is nothing transdisciplinary about conducting interviews, holding FGDs, or sending out a questionnaire. This could even be considered a form of data extractivism; burn survivors share their experiences and views on a very painful aspect, and period of their lives, researchers conduct their analysis, through their own lenses, which may only to some extent reflect the original narratives, and then publish about it. What is different here is that, while often patient participation in agenda-setting concerns only consulting patients about their problems and needs through a questionnaire, interview or focus group, or including patients as members in a research programming committee, here a multi-actor approach was used throughout the project, from research design to interpretation of findings. It thus combines consultation, using regular research methods (inner circle), with collaboration (outer circle), which is considered a fruitful way of approaching patient participation (Abma & Broerse, 2010). It does not leave integration of knowledge inputs from patients up to certified experts, nor does it completely transfer power to patients. As Abma and Broerse have argued, it is difficult to see how the perspectives of patients will be accepted and used by researchers if control is simply shifted from researchers to patients. Separate trajectories of consultation were conducted, because power asymmetries usually prevent meaningful interaction right from the start (Broerse et al., 2010). The consultation with burn survivors was designed and implemented in collaboration with the Association of Burn Survivors. Efforts were made to empower patients by supporting them in articulating previously unvoiced experiences and views and by supporting them in a preparatory meeting prior to the dialogue meeting with professionals. Similarly, in the various research encounters, professionals were sensitized to the relevance and importance of experiential knowledge. The transdisciplinary project thus combined ‘engaging powerful actors to reduce their own and peers power over marginalized actors (influencing powerful actors)’ with ‘engaging actors to iteratively shift power relations with powerful actors (empowering marginalized actors)’ (Chambers et al., 2021, p. 986). The conversations that took place during the dialogue meeting between patients, researchers and healthcare providers shifted priorities (mutual learningFootnote 3 took place) and scar itching emerged as the second priority on the joint research agenda.

Thus, what makes us consider this project ‘transdisciplinary’ is not so much the research methods that were employed, but the collaboration and mutual learning that was fostered through a carefully prepared and facilitated multi-actor session. A second relevant ‘transdisciplinary’ aspect of this case only transpired afterwards. While this case can be seen as a project, with a clear beginning and an end, transdisciplinarity for transformation is not a project; it has no clear beginning and end. In this particular case what happened is that scar itching was included in the research programme of the Burns Foundation and a ‘call for proposals’ was issued in 2007. However, the foundation received no proposals on the topic—while researchers had been willing to learn, the identified ‘blind spot’ proved difficult to fill in. Several years later, in 2012, the Biotechnology and Genetics Forum took the initiative of organizing an expert meeting on research into ‘scar itching’ together with the Association for Burn Survivors and a pharmaceutical company. The central question was: What needs to be done to develop a remedy for scar itching? involved a so-called 4P partnership—public sector, private sector, patients and practitioners. Since the ‘call for proposals’ in 2007, scarcity of resources was certainly no longer the limiting factor—the changes needed to develop an effective innovation in the field of such a ‘blind spot’ require not only financial resources but also a shared vision, commitment and concerted action from a larger number of stakeholders. The meeting was an important step towards establishing a partnership to develop an effective remedy for itching in burn injuries.

Thus, rather than as a project, transdisciplinarity for transformation can be seen as a movement or development in which all kinds of projects, in an unplanned manner, may play a part. From the perspective of a specific project, one could say ‘don’t start from scratch—there is always a “before the beginning” and an “after the end”’ (Regeer et al., 2011, p. 29). Ideas for transdisciplinary projects usually result from vague notions, previous experiments, and especially from actively building on the ideas of others and recognizing and acknowledging the complementary opportunities a multi-stakeholder environment offers. Ideas that may develop out of one project may settle in the heads of individuals who take them into new networks and practices, waiting for an opportunity to continue on the path of transformation (Regeer et al., 2011).

1.2.2 Transdisciplinarity, by Any Other Name

Many fields of research and practice can be discerned that do not self-identify as transdisciplinary but that share in the generic inclusive and transformative intent described above. There are, of course, too many to include here and we will leave many untouched, including Ground Up Inquiry (Verran et al., 2022), appreciative inquiry (Whitney & Cooperrider, 1998), Theory U (Scharmer, 2009), reflective structured dialogue (DeTemple & Sarrouf, 2017), knowledge management for development (KM4Dev, Boyes et al., 2023), reflexive interactive design (Elzen & Bos, 2019), pragmatic complexity (Ansell & Geyer, 2017), responsive (evaluation) methodologies (Guba & Lincoln, 1989), Integration and Implementation Sciences (I2S) (Bammer, 2013) and futures studies (Sardar, 2010). As students often ask about the differences between transdisciplinary research and, depending on their educational training, either participatory action research or engaged scholarship, we will discuss these traditions here, but only briefly. However much space we might dedicate in this chapter, it would still not do justice to their rich and important legacies. We will also very briefly touch upon other pleas for different modes of knowledge production.

Participatory Action Research (PAR) has multiple roots—like transdisciplinary research, it is better described as a family of approaches than as one tangible and clearly demarcated approach. We do want to recognize two of its roots, however, including one strand that is from Latin America and builds on the works of the Brazilian educator and philosopher Paolo Freire and the Colombian critical sociologist Orlando Fals Borda; and a second strand that builds on the works of German/North American social and organizational psychologist Kurt Lewin. Lewin is known to have introduced the term action research in 1946: a form of problem-solving through consecutive cycles of planning, action and reflection, that was initially mostly used in democratic settings to democratize workplaces (Breda, 2014). Lewin proposed that communities usually excluded from the research process should join researchers to study ‘real-life’ situations and collaboratively produce knowledge to effect social change (Torre, 2014). Freire’s ground-breaking ‘pedagogy of the oppressed’ (1968) reflects a revolutionary pedagogic method aimed at empowering marginalized, impoverished and oppressed populations through developing a critical consciousness about their circumstances, awareness of the need for social change and a recognition of their own wisdom and knowledge (see also Freire, 1973). PAR is then not so much a methodology as a movement. A movement that induces a praxis of the oppressed to liberate themselves and their oppressors (Torres, 2021). A movement that includes a new way of thinking and doing science (Breda, 2014). Or, as Fals Borda put it ‘PAR could be considered not only as a methodology for research to be taken into account by the institutions, but also as a philosophy of life. Those who practised it were feeling-thinking people ready to struggle for changes and understand them better’ (Fals Borda, 2013, p. 162 [our emphasis]). More recently, PAR, or rather critical PAR, has been ‘rediscovered’ in connection to feminist, queer, critical race and Indigenous theories (Torre et al., 2012).

As a family of ‘approaches’ PAR encompasses community action research, appreciative inquiry and co-operative inquiry (Reason & Bradbury, 2001), and has extended to applications in natural resource management, agriculture and food security, among others in the form of participatory rural appraisal (Chambers, 1992). More recently, participatory health research approaches have gained popularity as encouraging pathways to cross epistemic and social boundaries and foster co-creation to drive innovation and improve healthcare practice and policy. Participatory health research, again, encompasses a range of approaches (Roura, 2021), including Community-Based Health Research (Blumenthal & DiClemente, 2004), Community-Based Participatory Research (Cacari-Stone et al., 2014) and the Dialogue Model for patient participation (Abma & Broerse, 2010). Besides PAR, these participatory health research approaches build on collaborative inquiry (Bray, 2000), patient and public involvement (Brett et al., 2014) and public, citizen or community engagement (Irwin, 2006) and share the ‘celebrat[ion of] participation and democracy in the research process’ (Bray, 2000, p. 3).

We do not present (the family of approaches of) PAR here as different from transdisciplinary research, but as one of the ways of thinking and doing science from which transdisciplinary research takes inspiration and builds upon (see, for instance, Neuhauser, 2018), or, as stressed by others, could more strongly build upon. Jones and Loeber (under review) observe that in recent forms of funded transdisciplinary research (such as ‘Living Labs’), ‘despite dedicated formulations in subsequent funding programmes to researchers to include the voices of civil society actors, or even make them full partners, in practice is still a long way to go into making knowledge and intervention with social movements in shared ownership in line with guiding concepts of liberatory PAR’. They invite a reconsideration of early accounts of PAR, in Colombia and the broader global South, to serve ‘as an inspiration in making knowledge a transdisciplinary resource for liberatory action in the context of EU-funded R&I projects’. This indeed is a relevant point. A difference between transdisciplinary research and PAR may be that, in its application, the former more explicitly includes researchers from different academic fields and actors in positions of power, while sharing the commitment ‘to enable local people to share, enhance and analyse their knowledge of life and conditions, to plan and to act’ (Chambers, 1992, p. 1); i.e. transdisciplinary research is often associated with multi-stakeholder, or multi-actor,Footnote 4 engagement. While PAR aims to create meaningful change, not only in social contexts, but also in the realms of policy, science and corporations (‘liberating the oppressed as well as the oppressor’), its starting point is empowerment of the oppressed. It could be questioned if indeed a multi-actor approach, like transdisciplinarity, does not always risk perpetuating the inequalities it was committed to fighting; for a start, it requires critical self-reflection of those external to the marginalized or oppressed, ‘the academicians’ (Fals Borda, 2013). With this, let’s turn to engaged scholarship.

In Chapter 11 of this volume, Holle and colleagues coin the term transformative engaged scholarship to refer to forms of scholarship that enable more inclusive practices, both in society and in academic institutions. It builds on critically engaged scholarship, which moves away from earlier readings of engaged scholarship that put primacy on providing social analyses that would be of direct relevance to urgent public issues without questioning the authority of academia (Franklin, 2022; Smets et al., 2020). Critically engaged scholarship, by contrast, does question the authority of academia by ‘knowing that engagement also means becoming complicit in the processes [sociologists] try to criticize and change’ (Smets et al., 2020, p. 287). Transformative engaged scholarship, then, is not only about creating spaces for mutual learning with different social actors, particularly those from marginalized communities, but, importantly, it challenges normalized power dynamics in knowledge production and implies that scholars acknowledge power relationships, including their own position and their emotional, practical and structural capacities and boundaries (Holle et al., this volume, Chapter 11; see also Strumińska-Kutra, 2016). Zuiderent-Jerak (2015) offers a similar critique of engaged scholarship in sociology. He argues that it is often presented as producing scholarship that is both rigorous and relevant, with a weak connection between the two. This version of engaged scholarship risks overlooking what scholars can add sociologically to practices, by simply combining activism with scientific authority. This leads Zuiderent-Jerak to introduce situated intervention as a form of scholarship that locates normativity ‘in the many attachments that actors in the field, including scholars, sort out in practice’ (ibid. p. 23). Moreover, through intervening, this scholarly approach aims to produce sociological insights (rather than change practice on the basis of sociological knowledge). Situated interventions could thus be argued to share with PAR a focus on learning through change, by all those involved, and it may differ from PAR because of its explicit positioning as a ‘scholarly’ approach, aiming to produce sociological insights.

We have not yet mentioned the many other pleas for different modes of knowledge production better able to respond to persistent, societal problems, upon which transdisciplinary researchers often build. Descriptive accounts of the intertwining of the scientific and the social in the field of STS have also led to prescriptive appeals for doing science and technology differently. Funtowicz and Ravetz (1994), for instance, express the need for ‘post-normal science’ in cases characterized by high uncertainties and conflicting values and introduced the ‘extended participation model’ (Liberatore & Funtowicz, 2003) as a potential way to do this. Analysis of the ‘triple helix’ dynamics between universities, government and business (Etzkowitz & Leydesdorff, 2000; Leydesdorff & Etzkowitz, 1996) have inspired ‘quadruple helix models’ that include civil society actors in social transformation (e.g. Bunders et al., 1999; Nguyen & Marques, 2022). More generally, there are broad calls for revising the contract between science and society, notably the call for ‘mode-2 knowledge production’ (Gibbons et al., 1994; Nowotny et al., 2001); a mode of knowledge production where people have a place, not only as end users, but also at the core of knowledge production; where diverse values are not added to science but integrated into its practice. Other calls for revising the contract between science and society argue for the social contextualization of knowledge production (Rip, 2011) by developing new interfaces that encompass attempts at ‘reflexive co-evolution’ (e.g. Rip, 2005).

These and comparable ways of rethinking science and research and their relationship with ‘real-world’ phenomena and communities not only find their way into arguments in favour of transdisciplinarity as an approach to research as such, but are arguably also foundational for the governance approach to research and innovation called Responsible Research and Innovation (RRI) (see, e.g., Klaassen et al., 2018; Owen et al., 2012). Also inspired by the work of feminist thought generally and care ethics specifically, RRI recognizes the need to listen to and incorporate the needs of all relevant parties in developing knowledge and engaging in innovation, for instance because ‘[t]echnologies [as products of research and innovation] should be treated […] as elements of practices of care that both serve intended ends and that mediate our changing conceptions of these ends’ (Macnaghten et al., 2014, p. 196), where, for multiple reasons, deciding on ends is not to be left only to scientists and innovators.

More recently, knowledge co-production, or more generically co-production, is increasingly used. Turnhout and colleagues (2020), in their discussion on participation, power and transformation use the term co-production as a shorthand for participatory modes of knowledge production. Others speak about the co-creation of knowledge for sustainability (Mauser et al., 2013). Still others broaden the scope beyond knowledge production and speak about the co-production of knowledge, action and social change; for instance, Chambers and colleagues (2021) in the earlier mentioned article distinguishing six modes of co-production for the sustainable development of ecosystems. Similarly, Miller and Wyborn (2020) speak about co-production guiding the design and implementation of sustainability research and action (see also Bremer & Meisch, 2017 for a review of the use of co-production in climate change research, as well as Wyborn et al., 2019). It is interesting to see how scholars continue to grapple with the question of ‘naming’ attempts at reflexive co-evolution. For instance, in an article that advocates a different response to climate change from the research community (Fazey et al., 2018), the sketched response, consisting of ten essentials, is referred to as ‘action-oriented and second order transformation and energy research’. The term transdisciplinary research is almost absent from these writings, but in our view they are part of the same family of ways of thinking and approaching persistent problems.

Recent works on collaborative governance also use the terminology of co-production to point to governance arrangements that involve collaborations between a wide range of actors, including citizens, that produce new forms of knowledge, values and social relations and contribute to innovating public services and social innovation (Osborne & Strokosch, 2013; Sorrentino et al., 2018). This emerging field of interest manifests conceptual and analytical affinity with earlier works from another domain, in which policy scientists argued that in our present society, relationships between citizens and government as well as between policy scientists and practice need revising. Schön and Rein (1994) argued that traditional approaches to policy analysis are not appropriate for understanding persistent problems (or ‘intractable controversies’ as they call them), and, more importantly, they do not aid in their resolution. The dichotomy between reflection by academic scholars and the practice of policymaking should be resolved by collaboration between policy academics and policy practitioners. They emphasized the role of policymakers in knowledge co-creation: ‘Policy researchers should focus on the substantive issues with which policymakers deal, the situations within which controversies about such issues arise, the kinds of inquiry carried out by those practitioners who participate in a controversy or try to help resolve it, and the evolution of the policy dialectic within which practitioners play their roles as policy inquirers’ (Schön & Rein, 1994, p. 193). Schön and Rein introduced the idea of collaborative frame reflection as a concrete approach to co-production of knowledge in the context of policy analysis for intractable problems. Laws and Hajer (2006) have also moderated the claim that knowledge by itself can guide policymaking, and have argued for cooperation. The corresponding idea that the units within which policy has to be made coincide ever less with the constitutionally defined settings (Hajer & Versteeg, 2005) has given rise to a new role for citizens in our deliberative democracy and an emphasis on local knowledge and participative inquiry in the search for new forms of knowledge (e.g. Fischer, 2000, 2003). Collaborative governance today is often shaped in experimental settings such as governance experiments, urban laboratories and living labs (see Bulkeley & Castán Broto, 2013; Vandenbussche et al. 2024). Again, these scholarly works do not make explicit associations with transdisciplinary work—but we feel they can provide inspirations to those new to the field, especially because they may resonate with the diverse (epistemic) backgrounds and motivations of readers who wish to explore transdisciplinarity.

1.3 Transdisciplinarity for Transformation—A Multi-actor, Reflexive Practice Approach

It would be hard to find a source that talks about transdisciplinarity without talking about societal change or transformation. And if that is the case, then why title this book Transdisciplinarity for Transformation? How could transdisciplinarity not be for transformation?

The scholarly field of transdisciplinary research was given a great impulse at the 2000 Zurich conference titled: ‘Transdisciplinarity: joint problem-solving among Science, Technology and Society’ (Klein, 2001). The importance of ‘how to’ knowledge (Fazey et al., 2018), or transformation knowledge (Hadorn et al., 2008), in addition to widely available and ever-growing bodies of knowledge on the evidence for complex societal problems, has since increasingly been recognized. More than two decades after that landmark conference, we observe an increased engagement with transdisciplinary research, and multiple advances along epistemological, methodological and ethical lines. Since then, methodologies for organizing meaningful knowledge integration have been experimented with and iteratively improved (e.g. Horn et al., 2022; Tell et al., 2017), as is also the case for principles and heuristics to guide citizen participation in science and technology (e.g. Chilvers & Kearnes, 2020) and multi-stakeholder innovation processes (e.g. van de Poel et al., 2020); strategies to address power dynamics and to overcome systemic barriers (e.g. Kok et al., 2021); and approaches to sustain and upscale processes and outcomes (e.g. Aalbers & Sehested, 2018).

1.3.1 An End in Itself, Rather than a Means to an End?

However, the increasingly urgent need to create impact in view of ever more devastating health and sustainability challenges and forms of societal injustice indicates a gap in the current focus of co-creation literatures—as these tend primarily to be dedicated to processes of (knowledge) co-creation. With the evident need for in-depth insight into the dynamics of (and approaches to) multi-actor innovation processes comes the risk that understanding processes of collaboration, co-creation, social learning and reflexivity, including their political and power dimensions (Turnhout et al., 2020), becomes an end in itself, rather than a means to an end. Or, phrased differently, the (undeniably important) focus on process criteria for transdisciplinarity tends to blur the ‘ends’ of the endeavour, and hence takes the ‘transformation’ out of transdisciplinary research. It is telling that a quite recent in-depth study of 16 transdisciplinary research projects concerned itself with ‘explor[ing] how to proactively generate potential for societal effectiveness in TDR via the adaptive shaping of TDR processes’ (Lux et al., 2019, p. 184). While one might think of transdisciplinary research as being from the outset concerned with fostering certain societal effects, it appears that there is some light between shaping transdisciplinary research processes on the one hand and bringing about societal effects on the other. Therefore, there is a need to understand how to bring the intended societal effects centre stage in shaping transdisciplinarity. The intention of transdisciplinary research is to start with a complex societal issue and co-create an approach that fits the continuously re-negotiated purpose.Footnote 5 This is markedly different from any disciplinary, multidisciplinary or interdisciplinary way of working, in which either one or more disciplinary perspectives, or the perspective of a (funding) policy institution, or one particular actor’s version of what the pertinent issue is, decides the course of action.

However, this is highly challenging on many accounts. For instance, the imagined effects of transdisciplinary endeavours will often only become visible after longer periods of time, beyond the conventional duration of a project. This makes it challenging to keep aspired societal effects at centre stage and to keep collaborators engaged throughout. Another reason this might be challenging has to do with the different rules and institutions within which transdisciplinary collaborators might work. That is to say, the approaches devised in co-creation do not necessarily align with what is expected from different collaborators in the institutional settings in which they operate on a day-to-day basis—their home base. While this is recognized in the literature on transdisciplinary research (e.g. by developing context-sensitive transformative approaches, Van Breda & Swilling 2019), we would like to reiterate that there is much emphasis on multi-actor engagement, co-creation or ‘participatory contact zones’ (Torre, 2005). And while the many benefits of growing insights into processes of co-creation are invaluable, we want to stress the importance of also better understanding participants’ multiple attachments (Jensen, 2007), especially those in their professional capacities, as people often experience only a narrow space for transformative action, given the (implicit) rules and institutions that guide the practices in their home base.

1.3.2 On the Power of Shared Practices

A major challenge for co-creation-oriented approaches has to do with the many ways we are bounded—by our professional roles as policymakers, researchers, entrepreneurs and the explicit and implicit rules and institutions that come with these; by the access we do or do not have to different knowledges; by the cultural repertoires that we embody; by our racial and gender identity; and so on (Knapp et al., 2019; Marguin et al., 2021). These multiple identities deeply shape the ways in which we perceive, theorize, think, reflect and act—in other words, our multiple identities carve out our room for manoeuvre, both scientifically and practically. This might, however, present multi-actor approaches with a huge challenge.

This topic has been studied elaborately, both by scholars of positionality (e.g. Baur, 2021) and by practice theorists. At the basis of this work is the notion that we acquire knowledge, and assign meaning to the world around us, through participation in shared social practices. Lave and Wenger (1991)Footnote 6 have referred to these shared practices as ‘communities of practice’, whose members share a repertoire of resources to give meaning and make sense, including routines, words, instruments, ways of acting, stories, symbols and gestures. Such communities of practice can be groups of professionals, such as claims assessors of insurance companies, as Wenger (1999) explored in depth. Comparably, the sociologist of science Knorr-Cetina refers to ‘epistemic cultures’, which she explains as ‘those amalgams of arrangements and mechanisms […] which, in a given field, make up how we know what we know’ (Knorr-Cetina, 1999, p. 1). As both concepts reflect, members of a professional group or (scientific) field share a practice or culture; that is, the social and the scientific are mutually constitutive—or, as Jasanoff puts it with specific focus on the practice of science: ‘[scientific knowledge], both embeds and is embedded in social practices, identities, normal, conventions, discourse, instruments and institutions – in short the social’ (Jasanoff, 2004, p. 3). This explains why it is so hard for scientists who are rooted in different epistemic cultures to co-develop a systemic, integrated approach to ‘a problem’. First of all, because ‘a problem’ does not exist out there in a realm separate from perceptions, norms and identities. But also because the room for manoeuvre a researcher may experience is shaped by the norms, rules, conventions and routines that constitute their epistemic culture. Whitley (1982) conceptualized the possibility for ‘outsiders’ to exercise influence on knowledge production within a particular discipline.Footnote 7 Whitley found that this depends on the degree of mutual dependency between scientists and the degree of (un)certainty about the position, tasks and intentions of the discipline: the higher the dependency and task certainty, the harder it is to exercise influence from the outside. For instance, in the example of patient involvement in research agenda-setting for burns survivors, the task certainty of the (biomedical) researchers that could potentially apply for funding for research on scar itching was initially too high to include this new topic into their scope of relevance, or their ‘reputational system’, as Whitley calls this.

In the same vein, institutional theory establishes institutions as ‘sets of public norms that condition the interaction between subjects’ (Salet, 2018, p. 1), such as formal and informal rules, behavioural norms, practices and narratives (Lowndes & Roberts, 2013). Furthermore, the mutual dependency of actors (persons and organizations) contributes to the stability of a system (Arkesteijn et al., 2015), and thus prevents the inclusion of new actors and insights, or any sudden change of rules. Lastly, materialities (Grin, 2020; see also Huitzing et al., 2020), such as soil quality, or landscape, but also infrastructures and material components of technologies (Arkesteijn et al., 2015) can be seen as part of the mesh of institutions.

By presenting the concepts of communities of practice, (epistemic) cultures, appreciative systems, and institutions almost in a single brushstroke, we certainly discard all sorts of bigger and smaller conceptual and empirical differences. However, what is more important to us than the nuances of each of these and the differences between them, is that they help articulate what we mean by the ‘boundedness of practice’ (cf. Nicolini, 2009).

Our ‘membership’ in a diversity of practices, and the multiple identities we thus hold, is manifold and transgresses professional and academic boundaries. As emphasized before, this includes any and all aspects that make up our positionality, our (multiple) self, including in terms of ethnicity, nationality, age, gender, disability, sexual orientation, and social and economic status (Staffa et al., 2022). Thus, we can, for instance, be a biologist-by-training, a policymaker, a mother and a volunteer at the same time. What we often see, however, is that institutional logics are so dominant that most of our identities are marginalized when we enter the professional realm; there, the formal and informal rules of our professional and academic practices start to dominate in all kinds of intricate and scarcely visible ways. Again, we can refer here to the burns case, where even those biomedical researchers who were part of the dialogue meeting in which research on scar itching was collectively prioritized did not apply for any funding for this research subsequently. Crossing the boundaries of their academic field (including the boundaries to what are considered relevant research topics) might come with great personal costs, in terms of reputation, career opportunities or even the loss of a sense of belonging.

This is why the above poses such a magnificent challenge to transdisciplinarity. For when we act, speak, perceive and choose in ways that strengthen rather than weaken our belonging to our professional communities—whether it is by spending our time on publishing in high-impact journals as an academic, preparing policy briefs to advocate for a certain concern from a single-issue non-government organization (NGO), or navigating the internal politics at a ministry—the chances are high we disavow many of our other identities. And often the more powerful actors within a transdisciplinary process, such as a government official or a scientist, tend to be the ones that are more bounded by their professional affiliation. A single multi-actor event that might be part of transdisciplinary process will not change the way these actors do science or make policy once they are back at their ‘laboratory’ or office (Lynch et al., 2017). Thus, while co-production of knowledge and action, and even destabilizing power relations, may take place in certain spaces at certain instances, structurally addressing injustices and the lack of institutional listening (Scudder et al., 2021) in prevailing knowledge and governance systems takes much more.

1.3.3 Balancing Means and Ends Through Reflection

It is recognized that it is extremely difficult to keep one’s eye on the prize and remain focused on the purpose from which one is working. This requires a constant balancing act among the actors involved in emerging transdisciplinary spaces. Moreover, transdisciplinarity for transformation requires an interplay between emerging multi-actor practices, reflective practitioners, adaptive organizations and reflexive governance.Footnote 8 In the words of Rakesh Kapoor (2007, p. 475), ‘[a]ll social transformation can be seen as a dialectical play between three sets of oppositions: between (individual) biography and (social) history, between theory and praxis, and between the micro/local and the macro/global levels of organization’. Although enacting the dialectic at all three levels simultaneously is highly demanding, it is crucial for true social transformation. We know that if demarcated, co-creative efforts are not accompanied by systemic transformation, we are left with little more than individual pilot projects and programmes that come and go, without leaving behind any lasting impact (Felt, 2017). Such is the predicament in which we find ourselves.

1.4 Dynamic Learning Agenda, Learning Questions and How the Book Is Structured

This book is organized into three parts, the first focusing on the design and evaluation of transdisciplinary work, the second on whom to include and how, and finally one on roles and competencies requisite to engaging in transdisciplinarity. For each part, different learning questions are relevant. In this final section, we will present these learning questions after first introducing the concept of a learning agenda.

There is an appeal to considering transdisciplinary research as an approach that can be taught, like any other research approach or methodology. At the same time, or perhaps first and foremost, it is a particular mode of thinking and doing; a philosophy or a mindset. Getting accustomed to a new mode of thinking and doing generally requires becoming part of a community, learning the unspoken rules, starting to acquire a new vocabulary, developing sensitivities for certain observations above others. In particular for early-career researchers this may be quite challenging; supporting continuous reflection is hence seen as pivotal in any transdisciplinary endeavour.

There are different approaches to organizing this type of reflective practice, and even tools to support it. One of them is the so-called Dynamic Learning Agenda (DLA) that was developed in the context of supporting transdisciplinary projects that aimed to contribute to system innovation in the context of the sustainable development of Dutch agriculture (Regeer et al., 2009). It has since been incorporated in a reflexive monitoring approach that accompanies transdisciplinary endeavours, Reflexive Monitoring in Action (Van Mierlo et al., 2010), and employed in empirical domains, ranging from perinatal care (Schuitmaker-Warnaar et al., 2021), the micro-politics of urban food governance (Luger et al., submitted), agricultural innovation (Kilelu et al., 2014) and sustainability transitions (Svare et al., 2023). We will delve into the DLA here, because we have used it to provide some structure to the learning process of master’s and PhD students in our transdisciplinary education over the past decade. The learning questions that the students themselves have formulated have been the starting point for this volume, as we will see below.

The Dynamic Learning Agenda builds on the idea that conditions for a transdisciplinary strategy are never in place and that, as a consequence, the strategy itself should focus on creating or dealing with these conditions, as Broerse (1998) formulated on the basis of her transdisciplinary research in Zimbabwe. For instance, an unmet condition may be ‘the project team includes all relevant expertise, experience, and other relevant “stakes” needed to tackle the sustainability problem […]’ (Lang et al., 2012, p. 30), or ‘academic reward systems acknowledge and value knowledge co-creation with societal actors’, or ‘powerful stakeholders [are] aware of how their privileges influence processes and outcomes’ (Roura, 2021, p. 783). These unmet conditions inform the formulation of learning questions on the Dynamic Learning Agenda.

The formulation of learning questions follows two rules (Van Veen et al., 2014). First, it should convey a sense of agency. It is therefore typically formulated as ‘How can I/we …?’ rather than, for instance, ‘Why do academic reward systems not ….?’. It thus helps to move beyond an initial aggravation or frustration that is part of any transformative process (e.g. ‘they just don’t understand!’) and speaks to the importance of (self-)reflexivity in transdisciplinarity. Second, learning questions should convey a sense of ‘toughness’, thus bringing to light the difficult issues that are often ‘swept under the rug’ (Kleiner & Roth, 1996, p. 14). To do this it helps to add a dependent clause to the learning question, starting with ‘while’. Taken together, learning questions are formulated as: ‘How can I …. while …?’. So, a learning question may read: ‘How can I, as an academic researcher, co-create tangible outputs that resonate with societal needs, while academic reward systems do not acknowledge or value these outputs?’. Or, ‘How can I ensure that the often not heard voices are heard and taken seriously, while those in power are not aware of how their privileges influence processes and outcomes?’. Note that we have formulated these learning questions as a meta reflection on the transdisciplinary research process. In a project on sustainable agriculture, a learning question might read: ‘How can we motivate farmers to produce biological tomatoes, while (they say) the market is demanding cheap and colourful tomatoes?’. And, in a project on patient empowerment in health care, a health professional may see their professional identity change and express their pain and grief about this as: ‘How can I support the client to find their own way, while I deeply feel it is part of my professional identity to help them, to do things for them?’.

In a transdisciplinary project, a first learning agenda is formulated and monitored over time and changes are captured in the second, third, etc. learning agenda; hence the Dynamic Learning Agenda. Learning questions may disappear when they are resolved, they may need reformulating as insights into the issues evolve, or they may persist over time. Learning agendas may be formulated by a so-called reflexive monitor based on observations and fed back into the process (Regeer et al., 2009), they may result from conversations or reflection workshops within collaborative constellations (e.g. Van Veen et al., 2014), or they may be formulated and followed over a period of time by individual actors in the change efforts, e.g. midwives (Schuitmaker-Warnaar et al., 2021) or policymakers (Luger et al., subm.). The idea is that formulating a concern, or an unmet condition, as a learning question creates not only ownership, but also steering capacity (Van Veen et al., 2014). It gives clues for action, for casual inquiry, for trial and error. In this way, the unmet conditions that may hamper a development will no longer be seen as properties of an external system, but as points of leverage for the strategies that the team needs to develop (Regeer et al., 2011). It speaks to the need for ‘how to’ knowledge (Fazey et al., 2018) or transformation knowledge (Hadorn et al., 2008)—the kind of knowledge that is recursively developed through the Dynamic Learning Agenda.

The Dynamic Learning Agendas can be seen as a living archive of challenges and related strategies encountered in transformative change processes (Regeer et al., 2009). The idea is that questions that remain on the learning agenda only briefly, first-order learning questions, pertain to issues that lie within the capacities of practitioners to resolve, through single-loop learning (incremental improvement of existing routines) or through gaining experience and learning new skills. It is especially the tough issues reflected in persistent learning questions, those that stay on the learning agenda for a longer period of time, that are of interest. We have referred to these as second-order learning questions as they involve changes in underlying beliefs, norms and assumptions (Regeer et al., 2009), akin to the notion of double-loop learning as introduced by Argyris and Schön (1974, 1978). In a similar vein, humanist philosopher Kunneman (2006) noted in his account of the existential state of contemporary societies that although tough questions may be shoved away under the table, from this subordinate position, they will continue to give persistent signals. According to Kunneman, these signals can become visible when there is room for exploration and even acceptance of differences between people and positions (cited in Regeer et al., 2009).

Above, we spoke about the boundedness of practice (Nicolini, 2009), which is reflected in the learning questions by embracing the unmet conditions, or persistent signals, (‘while …?’) that upon continuous neglect, will hamper development. At the same time, these learning questions reflect a message (‘How can I/we …’) of hope, of agency, of willingness to ‘staying with the trouble’ (Haraway, 2016), of human creativity in persevering ‘causal inquiry’ (Schön, 1995), eloquently brought together by Nicolini in ‘appreciating practice as bounded creativity’ (2009, 1404, our italics).Footnote 9 Learning questions address trouble, tensions or discrepancies when and where they arise. Learning questions are specific and situational, and intended to contribute to the sensitization of all involved to issues that emerge as relevant and can be ‘judged by the quality of the conversation they provoke’ (Regeer et al., 2009, citing Kleiner & Roth, 1996, p. 20). Those conversations are situated neither in the ‘scientific’ nor the ‘social’; rather they are situated in the here and now. Van Breda et al. (2016) use the notion of ‘socio-epistemic relationships’ that develop through transdisciplinary encounters. We can perceive the DLA as fostering these socio-epistemic relations through salient questions that have meaning in hybrid spaces, in ‘transdisciplinary epistemic communities’ (Regeer & Bunders, 2003; Van Breda et al., 2016).

By situating the conversations around learning questions firmly in the here and now and in locally specific transdisciplinary epistemic communities, they foster ‘epistemic humility’ in researchers, ‘challenging intellectual rigidity, showing that to hold on to your position without understanding the benefits of humility […] is a disadvantage’ (Gardiner, 2020, p. 38). At the same time, academic researchers can perform alignment or translational work to align these socio-epistemic conversations with specific (monodisciplinary) epistemic communities or academic debates. Dynamic Learning Agendas can thus contribute to abductive theorizing (Dubois & Gadde, 2002; Stirling, 2015), for instance on conceptual spaces as distinct as organizational listening (Macnamara, 2018) and epistemic justice (see Ramaswamy et al., Chapter 10, this volume, Fricker, 2007) when the conversation revolves around a learning question such as ‘How can I ensure that the often not heard voices are heard and taken seriously, while those in power are not aware of how their privileges influence processes and outcomes?’.

We have employed the Dynamic Learning Agenda as a way to structure the learning experiences of our master’s and PhD students, and at the same time for them to become acquainted with a specific tool they might employ in their transdisciplinary research with participants to guide collaborative learning processes. We have distilled some patterns out of the hundreds of learning questions formulated by these students (see also Gunn et al., Chapter 15, this volume) and used them to structure this edited volumeFootnote 10: (1) Design and Evaluation; (2) Diversities and Inclusion; and (3) Roles and Competences. Of course, these are not mutually exclusive, but highly intertwined categories, which iteratively inform one another. We will introduce each of the three parts along the lines of the learning questions.

1.4.1 Part I: Design and Evaluation

Designing a transdisciplinary research project before starting is almost a contradiction in terms; transdisciplinary processes are, by definition, shaped in practice. At the same time, researchers need to spell out their problem understanding, suggested approach and expected outcomes in research proposals for supervisors and/or funders before the research commences. Evaluation is then the other side of the coin; on the basis of which evaluation frameworks will these proposals be assessed? And against which indicators can we judge whether transdisciplinary research projects have created the intended impacts? Learning questions that students have formulated regarding design and evaluation pertain to the specifics of individual research projects, the challenges of creating impact and the nature of emergent design in non-conducive contexts.

A first set of learning questions is about the specific framework conditions of graduate research projects. Students wonder:

How can I create real impact in the area of my research, while I have limited time and resources available?

This is, of course, true for any graduate student, but in particular in the case of transdisciplinary research, engaging with relevant actors and communities requires time and attention and openness to unforeseen opportunities and developments. A number of studies conducted in the past 10 years into the particular challenges experienced by early-career researchers embarking on the path of transdisciplinary research confirm this. Enengel and colleagues (2012), for instance, report on the experience of four PhD students in Austria implementing transdisciplinary approaches within a traditional university setting. They highlight the tension between shifting responsibilities and control to non-academic partners, and the dependencies this creates in the context of PhD projects ‘that should result in externally reviewed doctoral theses after three years’ (Enengel et al., 2012, p. 114).

Box 1.2: Example PhD research design

A circular flow diagram has 3 phases of research design. Phase 1. Exploration. Phase 2. Exploration of multiple stakeholder perspectives. Phase 3. Stakeholders reflect on the results.

Phase 1: Exploration

In order to gain understanding of the problem field and understand potential barriers to and facilitators of the inclusion of people with mental disability, exploratory interviews were held and desk studies were conducted.

Phase 2: Exploration of Barriers and Facilitators Perceived by Different Stakeholder Groups

The second phase involved an exploration of stakeholder perspectives on the main study question. In his PhD, Ikenna Ebuenyi explored perspectives on barriers to and promoters of inclusion of persons with mental disability in employment in Kenya according to persons with mental disabilities, (potential) employers, mental healthcare providers and mental health/DPOs.

Phase 3: Stakeholders’ Reflection on the Results

The third phase involved exploring potential pathways to improved employability of persons with mental illness through reflection of the results from the previous phases with multiple stakeholders. This phase was commenced but not completed. The thesis presents the preliminary analysis of a roundtable meeting where the findings of the first two phases were shared and discussed with stakeholders, followed by a discussion on pathways to improved employability for persons with mental disability in Kenya.

PhD thesis Ikenna Ebuenyi (2019).

While a PhD trajectory can be seen as a project, with a clear beginning and an end, as said before, transformation is not a project. But, there is always an ‘after the end’ (like there is always a ‘before the beginning’). Within the restricted time frame of a master thesis or PhD study, the ‘project’ might be delineated to gaining insight into the perspectives of different stakeholders separately with only the beginning of a mutual learning process among them. See Box 1.2 for an example in which an integration phase (phase 3) was commenced but not completed. Phase 1 and phase 2 had already resulted in seven published research articles and the three-year term of contract had ended. However, we do see that the relationships that were formed during the research process continued; like the experiences of the South African PhD students mentioned above, ‘these socio-epistemic relationships took on a “social existence” beyond the individual research project’ (Van Breda et al., 2016, p. 161). Still, delineation in time, because of the researchers’ pursuit of degrees and publications, comes with the risk of sustaining power inequalities between communities and researchers. An action researcher says: ‘research topics that would have unreasonably extended the completion of my degree were taken off the table. However, what if those other options were more beneficial to the [community]?’ (Dillon, 2014, p. 11, quoted in Strumińska-Kutra, 2016).

A second type of learning question is about the challenge of bringing about significant change through transdisciplinary research. This can be argued to be the overarching challenge of transdisciplinary research, encompassing all others. A learning question may read:

How can I apply transdisciplinary research to bring substantial and meaningful change in relation to a specific complex problem, while there are many barriers and there is resistance in the system?

This is an important question because, as alluded to before, a lot of attention to better understanding processes of knowledge co-creation, power dynamics, mutual learning and reflexivity, in our engagement in transdisciplinary practices as scholars, carries the risk of foregrounding academic knowledge production, and backgrounding the end to which these transdisciplinary practices were set up in the first place. Recognizing the inseparability of understanding and change means not losing sight of the transformational intent of a transdisciplinary practice as it evolves, and can be argued to be the crux of a transdisciplinary governance strategy (De Wildt-Liesveld et al., 2015). Chapter 3 (Regeer et al., this volume) elaborates on the relationship between design, evaluation and reflexive governance in the context of transdisciplinary projects.

A final set of learning questions relates to possible tensions between the transdisciplinary research project and its institutional environment, and those of collaborating partners. Learning questions may then be:

How do I allow for an emergent process that provides room for collaborative decision making and multiple iterations and adaptations, while I need to be specific before the start about activities and outcomes to increase chances to get funding, or while stakeholders involved may have to navigate rigid organizational procedures, or while people might be accustomed to typical project management thinking, or disinclined to take risks?

Being risk-averse might be an individual character trait (these are discussed under Part 3: Roles and Competencies), but might also be congruent with an organizational culture geared towards formalization and standardization, resonating with the new public management ideology (Gruening, 2001). In the research and innovation system, we also see a trend towards ‘projectification’ (e.g. Ika & Munro, 2022) that poses specific challenges to transdisciplinary research design (Gjefsen et al., this volume). Some researchers resolve this tension by making the highly intangible processes of deliberation, collaboration and mutual sensemaking, very tangible and concrete in their proposals through laying out clear processes of co-design through various multi-stakeholder workshops (see also Jones & Loeber, under review).

In sum, transdisciplinary research design is by definition emergent, as a ‘purely deliberative strategy precludes learning once the strategy is formulated; emergent strategy fosters it’ (Mintzberg, 1987, p. 66). As Chapter 3 will argue, transdisciplinary research cannot be done by simply designing the process based on one of the existing highly sophisticated frameworks. In earlier research we saw that the hard and pioneering work in the area of defining transformative approaches had resulted in a disposition of transdisciplinary, transformation or transition scholars to assess and critique transdisciplinary practice according to their theories of change. ‘However, in interviews and informal conversations that we held with a range of programme managers and project leaders, they have expressed agitation and annoyance with being repeatedly confronted with the gaps between programme theory and their practice. They argue that they know about the theory but struggle with the implementation and have expressed the need for help and guidance’ (Regeer et al., 2009, p. 522). We may need forms of ex durante reflexive governance of transdisciplinary practice, in which ex ante design frameworks and ex post evaluation frameworks become part of the conversation.

1.4.2 Part II: Diversities and Inclusion

The majority of learning questions participants formulate, pertain to the manifold diversities involved in the participatory process. A typical learning question may read as follows:

How can I find a shared direction in my transdisciplinary research project, while perceptions of the problem may vary widely across the different stakeholder groups?

Students often stipulate differences in terms of interests, needs, power, language, knowledge, culture, history and values. Indeed, at the core of many transdisciplinary endeavours is a challenge of balancing directionality and stakeholders’ perspectives, which often appear incommensurable (see also Kok et al., 2021). Taking complex and persistent problems as a starting point implies by definition that transdisciplinary research is concerned with issues that lack agreement on facts and values (Douglas & Wildavsky, 1982; Hisschemöller & Hoppe, 2018). Problem structuring (Dunn, 2015) has hence been advocated as an important place to start transdisciplinary research processes. Various methodologies have been introduced to support this process, including interpretative frame analysis (Schuitmaker, 2012; Van der Wilt & Reuzel, 2012), mapping of diverse argumentation trees (De Cock Buning, 2010), and frame reflection (Kupper & De Cock Buning, 2011; Van der Meij et al., 2018). Often, the process of collaborative problem structuring, involving multiple stakeholder groups, might take up the entire PhD trajectory, which can then be seen as the first cycle or stage of a larger transformative transdisciplinary process (see above and Box 1.2).

At the same time, stakes are high and decisions urgent where complex real-world problems are concerned (Funtowicz & Ravetz, 1994). This implies that processes of problem structuring and experimentation are closely intertwined and iteratively inform one another throughout. Furthermore, given the almost always plethora of diversities, problem formulations and associated aspired visions are to be considered as provisional rather than definitive and perhaps should be seen as temporary moments of closure of what tend to be potentially highly contested debates, which can flare up again with changing configurations of stakeholders involved and with evolving insights and events. It is argued that these provisional episodes of closure can speed the process of experimentation and consequently enhance a deeper understanding of the issues at stake—something that clearly resonates with Kurt Lewin’s famous saying that ‘If you want truly to understand something, try to change it’.Footnote 11

Considering aspired visions as ‘speculative commitments’ (Jerak-Zuiderent, 2019, following Puig de la Bellacasa, 2017) implies a commitment to putting them to the test as the process evolves. Moreover, it is a response to the problematization of the idea of a shared vision or consensus, which is hard to imagine when recognising the width but also the sheer depth of the diversities; forms of knowing and being are deeply rooted in people’s shared social and professional practices.Footnote 12 Rather than reaching consensus on problem definition or vision, scholars describe looking for congruency, alignment or convergence between different (value) frames of involved actors (Grin & Van de Graaf 1996; Hoes et al., 2008; Vandenbussche et al., 2024). Formulating learning questions on the plurality of understandings and perspectives of different stakeholders invites these kinds of considerations.

Students, secondly, formulate learning questions reflecting that the manifold diversities are not only challenging in terms of finding a shared direction, but also in terms of the expected interaction between different people, who may not understand each other due to their different ways of understanding or knowing, the languages and jargon they do (not) master, the cultures they are enculturated in or the less or more substantial power differentials existing between them. Thus, many students formulate learning questions around power dynamics, which typically may read as follows:

How can I effectively integrate diverse perspectives and knowledge of stakeholders relevant to my research, while knowledge hierarchies may favour (alleged) expert dominance in deliberative processes, reproducing hegemonic power structures?

Or, in a different variant, emphasis is placed on those excluded by existing (knowledge) hierarchies:

How can we ensure equitable inclusion of (perspectives of) vulnerable or marginalized communities, while benefits of participation may not outweigh the burdens, or while there is unequal access to resources, self-confidence, or social capital, or, while trust is lacking?

Both variations of this learning question concerning power and hierarchies are pivotal to explore in the context of transdisciplinary research. For one because, while the notion of democratizing knowledge processes might have been at the historical roots of transdisciplinary research, we are only at the very start of the journey towards epistemic justice. Indeed, the difficulty of this journey becomes almost painfully manifest when we realize that speaking of powerful versus vulnerable or marginalized communities in itself constitutes a form of reproducing both stigmatization and power imbalances, as it implicitly reaffirms what counts as centre and what as margin and disallows some membership of the so-called centre. Consistent with this, students also recognize that the language of marginalized or vulnerable groups in itself almost automatically embodies a reproduction of existing hierarchies, as it tends to be powerful actors, who have no trouble in gaining access to places where decisions are made or research is funded, designed and implemented, nor in articulating their positions, who identify others as vulnerable or belonging to the margins, and thus as people who ought to be given a voice. Arguably, however, nobody needs to be given a voice—rather, it is hegemonic actors who need to learn how to listen to any and all pertinent voices, irrespective of whether or not they are raised by actors resembling them (Zachariah et al., 2023).

The more recent calls to take power differentials far more seriously than transdisciplinary scholarship has to date (e.g. Strumińska-Kutra & Scholl, 2022; Turnhout et al., 2020) are calls for recentring members of ‘marginalized’ communities. The learning questions formulated by students speak to the fact that participation so easily becomes instrumental or tokenistic (Ocloo & Matthews, 2016), habitually reinforcing hegemonic systems of knowledge in so many ways, and at so many levels (Roura, 2021). Recentring marginalized communities implies a profound rethinking of power relations, in order to bring about a ‘re-humanised world’ (Ndlovu-Gatsheni, 2019, referring to Maldono-Torres’ work on human rights).

Transdisciplinary practices attempting to foster epistemic justice and decolonising research practices are, for instance, found in the growing body of literature on Indigenous-led knowledge practices (e.g. Moewaka Barnes et al., 2021), particularly in environmental and sustainability research, which give examples of co-creating knowledge through power-sharing and creative action. In a different way, efforts to include and value patient knowledge in health policy, care and research practices (Pittens, 2013) have tried to navigate between, or iteratively accommodate both, academic (medical) discourses dominated by highly specific operationalizations of ‘objectivity’ that are informed first and foremost by empiricism and reductionism, and the lived experience and embodied and situated knowledges of both patients and care professionals (Lösch et al., 2023; Zuiderent-Jerak et al., 2012). The Dialogue Model (Abma & Broerse, 2010), for instance, is carefully designed to mitigate power differentials between patients, health professionals and researchers, by allowing patients to start articulating their lived experience and experiential knowledge with peers, which not only has substantive but also affective value, and enables the translation of an individual ‘I’-voice into a shared ‘we’-voice.

A third set of learning questions that pertain to the manifold diversities involved in transdisciplinary research reflects the experienced difference between a transdisciplinary way of working and thinking, and a ‘non-transdisciplinary’ way of working and thinking.Footnote 13 Students especially express this in relation to experiences with research internships in monodisciplinary academic or professional environments or in relation to their earlier academic training. A learning question may read:

How can I meaningfully conduct transdisciplinary research, while working within a traditional university setting which persists to be discipline-centred and wherein recognition for one's work is still very much decided upon in terms of discipline-oriented performance indicators?

And this, of course, is true for all participants in a transdisciplinary research process: each of them may have to comply with existing guidelines, protocols or routines in their (professional) community. It is sometimes said that transdisciplinary research requires ‘double work’: besides instigating and supporting processes of co-creation, co-innovation, and transformation, there is also a continuous need for alignment work (De Wildt-Liesveld et al., 2015; Verwoerd et al., 2021) to not lose the connection with existing incentive structures, or rather to instigate processes of institutional reflexivity. If we do not attend to these institutional learning processes, transdisciplinary projects will just be projects, with no impact beyond their duration.

1.4.3 Part III: Roles and Competences

The third part of this volume is based on the premise that a reflexive approach, like transdisciplinary research, requires a great deal of self-reflection regarding diverse roles to navigate and competences to acquire. Here, we see learning questions that can be considered counterparts of some of the learning questions above, turning the gaze specifically to the ‘self’. For instance, while a learning question regarding design (Part 1) might be about the tension between an emergent design process and existing, rigid organizational structures and procedures, the counterpart question that would fit in Part 3 would be:

How can I embrace uncertainty and complexity while I feel a deep need for clarity, certainty and manageability, and feel more comfortable with mode 1 research?

These questions call for self-reflection and a deepening awareness of the importance of engaging with unarticulated, implicit and sometimes unknown aspects of oneself in being able to act meaningfully in a messy, unstructured process and engage with diverse other people, each with their own, often implicit, commitments and associations. Like in any qualitative research endeavour, the recognition that as a (transdisciplinary) researcher you are your own instrument (Dodgson, 2019) brings a responsibility to inquire into yourself, your normative commitments and the role of the manifold associations that shape the way you perceive.

Students, in the formulation of their learning questions, show a deep awareness of the need for continuous reflection on their positionality, particularly with regard to power dynamics and their position as a researcher, often from the global North. An illustrative example of how students have formulated such a learning question is:

How can I engage in TDR processes with marginalized people and communities, and build a relationship of trust, while they may mistrust me because of my positionality as a privileged western researcher?

Like ourselves, many of our white global health students are wary of perpetuating the White Saviour Industrial Complex (WSIC) (Banerjee et al., 2023) and might even show a sense of paralysis. One way to escape this is by making the researcher’s positionality, values and agenda, visible and open to negotiation.Footnote 14

While students recognize their ‘perceived authority’ as a (sometimes ‘white’ or ‘global north’) researcher in relation, for instance, to marginalized people and communities, they also indicate doubts about how to handle power differentials between themselves, as young and inexperienced researchers, and those in positions of power. They ask, for instance:

How can I engage with experienced researchers, professionals and those with lived experience, while I am a young and inexperienced researcher, or while I am not comfortable taking the lead, or while I tend to steer away from conflicts?

Chapter 14 (den Boer, 2024, this volume) presents a thick account of what it is like—as an early-career researcher—to conduct transdisciplinary research in the context of a City Lab, supporting food system transformation. She distinguishes a wide variety of roles she adopted over a period of three years and describes the synergies and tensions she encountered between various roles. The requirements of conducting both scientifically rigorous and societally relevant transdisciplinary research are generally experienced as highly stressful (Sellberg et al., 2021). PhD students fear falling behind in their careers compared to their monodisciplinary counterparts, as transdisciplinary research requires ‘double work’; they need to invest in creating interactional spaces or materials that aid the process of co-creation as well as spend considerable time and energy in producing academic papers that may take longer to get published because of a lack of transdisciplinary reviewers. Doctoral students conducting transdisciplinary research projects (Enengel et al., 2012) reported that the time they spent on interacting with non-academic actors, and including local knowledge into the research process, yielded realizable solutions that accommodate conflicting interests and can hence more effectively contribute to addressing real-world problems. At the same time, however, these transdisciplinary interactions left them with less time for disciplinary exchange, and methodological and theoretical innovation (ibid.).

Furthermore, early-career researchers are still finding their grounds in their original scientific field and are uncertain what a move towards transdisciplinary research might mean in terms of their sense of ‘feeling intellectually and socially “at home”’ in an academic community, or ‘epistemic living space’ (Felt et al., 2013, p. 513). They may ask themselves:

How do I develop myself to become a transdisciplinary researcher while I am still finding my position as a researcher within the structures of academia? Or, while I feel more comfortable in my original academic background?

From their experience in their graduate education and research internships, they have not encountered many academic communities in which this other mode of doing research is appreciated, rewarded or simply supported. So, what does that mean for their (academic) careers? Will they be lone advocates and pioneers in otherwise not very conducive academic environments? As Felt and colleagues (2013) describe, early-career researchers grapple to reconcile the demands of transdisciplinarity with other normative requirements in contemporary research. Developing attachment to transdisciplinarity at an epistemic level was experienced as especially difficult, and PhD students were inclined to re-attach to their ‘home-disciplines’ (Felt et al., 2013).

A third set of questions relate to roles and competences that pertain to the researcher’s own normative orientation. Students question how to deal with the potential tensions between their own views and opinions and those of stakeholders. A learning question might read:

How can I engage constructively with a diverse sample of stakeholders with different perspectives, while I am a highly politically engaged person and already have my own opinions, values and ideals on the research topic, and may strongly oppose or align with some of the stakeholders?

We see a heightened awareness of the potential contention between the ability for deep listening and one’s own position, intensified by other students stating that they have a ‘clear view and opinion’ themselves, are ‘a highly opinionated person’ or that they ‘find it difficult to accept that other points of view exits next to mine’. This is also related to having ‘an anticipated outcome of my research’ and hence relates to the earlier tension between directionality and stakeholder involvement. These learning questions solicit reflection on one’s own normative commitments in transdisciplinary research and invite researchers to put these commitments to the test, to explore them, to be curious about how strong they are and why, and to observe how these commitments affect their research practice. It requires practising with turning strong commitments into speculative commitments; they are provisional, or tentative and can change as a result of the process. This relates to a wider search on the part of critically oriented action researchers on their own stance in transformative research: ‘How and where should they locate themselves in relation to organizational change or even broader to the change of organizational constituencies’ (Alvesson et al., 2009, cited in Strumińska-Kutra, 2016, p. 864). Or ‘how to be a genuine partner to a “community” and simultaneously […] adopt a critical stance that presupposes the definition of their problem’ (Strumińska-Kutra, 2016, p. 865).

In a conceptual article on power inequities across the social ecology of participatory health research, Roura (2021) identifies a number of interdependent areas at micro, meso and macro levels at which power inequities are at play. She formulates monitoring questions to guide the assessment of power dynamics in participatory health research that resonate well with some of the learning questions formulated by novice transdisciplinary researchers. At the micro-level, Roura’s monitoring questions pertain, for instance, to self-reflexivity and cultural humility (where students have openly reflected on their positionality); at the meso-level, monitoring questions pertain, for instance, to reward systems and effective techniques for dialogue (where students have reflected on character traits, experience and also their rigid normative orientation, which might hamper effective dialogue), and monitoring questions at the macro level relate, for instance, to the distribution of power and resources (where students have shown an awareness of unfair resource distribution and the power of the academic system of which they are a part). Rather than monitoring power dynamics as externalized (e.g. ‘are the most powerful stakeholders ready to give up power and the privileges that come with it?’ (Roura, 2021, Table 1, p. 783), the learning questions bring power-related issues close to home and invite the kind of self-reflexivity that is essential both for novice and experienced participants of transdisciplinary research processes. The learning questions thus set an agenda for navigating roles, which essentially are about the pluriform relationships, with others and with self, that deliberately, but more often implicitly, take shape in a transdisciplinary process; and the continuous development of the capacity, of oneself and others, to navigate the many diversities while keeping the (continuously negotiated) direction of transformation centre stage.