Some Reflections on the Emotional Burden of Conducting Interviews with Victims of Occupational Diseases

In 2014, employees and former employees of the Dutch Ministry of Defence in the Netherlands met at reunions and other social gatherings. There they noticed that many of their current and former colleagues were severely ill or deceased. They raised the alarm, after which research was conducted by the National Institute for Public Health and the Environment. This research showed that the Ministry of Defence unlawfully exposed its employees to chromium-6 from 1984 to 2006. Worse still, the Ministry had known about the harmful effects of the substance since 1973.  Exposure to chromium-6 can lead to a variety of illnesses, including several forms of cancer and eventually death. Around the same time, it became known that the Dutch City of Tilburg also unlawfully exposed benefit recipients to chromium-6. Some of the benefit recipients who were unemployed in that city were obliged to paint and polish passenger trains in exchange for receiving their social security benefits. These disclosures caused great social unrest, especially since victims encountered difficulties getting access to justice.

While conducting interviews with victims for my PhD thesis, I soon found out that qualitative research is indeed an emotionally challenging endeavor”. The interviews were taxing; not only for victims themselves, but also for me as an interviewer. Lots of victims were suffering from severe types of cancer, finding themselves traumatized and revictimized by the process of claiming compensation for their damages. Many participants cried during the interviews. As the participants were often three decades older than me, I was not fully prepared for that to happen. Importantly, the emotional labour involved in undertaking this research also challenged my role as an interviewer. Sometimes, I acted like a sympathetic ear, providing my participants with an opportunity to talk about topics they were no longer able to discuss with people closer to them. Instead of going over my topic list, I had to give them space to let them have their say first.  Often, I had the role of a “therapist”, offering participants an opportunity to let off steam (Gardner and Lehman 2002). Participants expressed that in the interviews, they finally felt heard.

I was emotionally touched by the stories my participants told about how their illnesses impacted their lives. One participant was not able to sing anymore – one of his greatest passions – because of his throat cancer. Another participant said that the exposure to toxic substances during work not only destroyed his own life, but also the lives of his family members. Some participants shared their traumatic experiences of being in a court room. Three interviewees told me about losing their partner, and the impact this had on their children. Of course, I showed the sympathy I felt for my participants’ stories. But it was sometimes difficult to know how much of my own emotions I could show. Others have argued, that showing too much sympathy during interviews could disrupt interview processes (e.g. Arendell 1997). Yet, showing too little emotion could also be seen as being unresponsive, eventually silencing participants.

Dealing with very emotional, sometimes traumatized participants can be burdensome for the interviewer. Since it was difficult to find participants who were willing to participate in my research, I sometimes held interview marathons if I finally did find victims who wanted to talk. Eventually, I conducted 16 of the 58 interviews (lasting approximately one hour average) in only four days. Due to the soloistic nature of doing interview research, I came to truly realize how important it is to take time off between interviews to process participants’ stories.

In the end, an interview is more than a dialogue. It is a social interaction, where not only words, but emotions are exchanged as well. Overall, the emotional burden of conducting interviews with victims should not be underestimated. It comes with a certain responsibility, not only towards participants, but also towards yourself as an interviewer.