Coming out of the shadows: reflections on interviewing for Voicing Loss

When we started Voicing Loss, I knew as much (or, more accurately, as little) about coroners and inquests as many of the bereaved people I later interviewed had known before they encountered the coroner’s service. Attending a number of coroners’ courts to familiarise myself with how inquest hearings work was therefore invaluable to alert me to the wide variation that exists across England and Wales – in courtroom spaces, coroner personalities, inquest proceedings and, most significantly for us, how bereaved people are treated and supported to participate. Having subsequently completed over 30 interviews with bereaved people (as well as further interviews with coroners, other professionals and professional witnesses), I have some reflections on doing the interviews and what was shared with me. 

Conducting interviews in 2022-2023 meant that we were still affected by the Covid-19 pandemic, with all of us anxious about doing sensitive and long interviews remotely. We were reassured and relieved by how well the interviews went – interviewee engagement, and the quality and richness of the data, did not seem to be affected. Great care is needed, however, when interviewing remotely to manage technological issues and maintain rapport with interviewees. This includes alertness to body language and distress, when support or a break may be needed, and allowing time at the start and end of interviews to check in with interviewees. Relatedly, interviewing remotely (at home) required adjustments to my own self-care plan, including the ongoing management of my own significant bereavement. I was taken aback and touched when some interviewees took time to acknowledge the impact on me of listening to them. 

I have been a researcher for over 25 years, and have completed hundreds of interviews with different groups of people about sensitive topics – such as children and families affected by the substance use problems (and co-existing difficulties) of others, prisoners and families, families of military veterans, bereavement through substance use, and end of life and substance use. I felt very privileged doing the interviews for Voicing Loss, and I know that much of what I was told will stay with me. Furthermore, I was struck by the strength and resilience of everyone, often over long periods of time and in the most difficult of circumstances, to what they are enduring. Many shared what were often some of their darkest emotions and days, and experiences of the inquest process that some said were as difficult or traumatic as the death itself. How people are treated by those they come into contact with can make such a difference to their grief, distress and trauma. On countless occasions I was left upset, shocked and frustrated with the knowledge that much of the poor practice that I heard about could have been easily avoided with thought, humanity, and what can be called ‘small acts of kindness’. 

A mother said that her and her family ‘felt like shadows’ during the inquest process. The voices of the bereaved people that we heard are shouting loudly and collectively, often not for the first time, about their experiences and the far-reaching impacts of good and poor treatment and practice. As the coroner service is facing something of a crisis of purpose along with a number of internal and external challenges, it is timely to hope that those with the ability to effect the changes that are urgently needed take the time to really hear what our 89 bereaved interviewees said and to bring both bereaved people and those who have died out of the shadows. Surely, this is the best way to respect bereaved people, honour the deceased, and develop a coroner service with humanity at its core.