Trauma‑informed research: lessons from working in the justice sector

As User Researchers, we often work with people at moments of stress, change or vulnerability. The people we speak to may be dealing with loss, instability, fear or previous harm.

With this in mind, the way we do research matters just as much as the things we learn. Trauma‑informed research recognises that our methods, language and behaviour risk causing harm unintentionally, even as we are actively seeking to reduce harm.

Over the last four years in the justice sector, I’ve worked with lots of different users, including people in prison and people navigating the family courts. These groups in particular are likely to have high exposure to trauma. Additionally, in a justice context, power dynamics are incredibly explicit, and the risk of getting things wrong in user research very real.

This post shares practical lessons from that work — things I’ve found important to consider before, during and after research.

Things to think about before research

Most trauma-informed decisions happen before you meet a participant.

Challenge if primary research is needed

At the outset of a project, it’s important to ask whether research actually needs to be done with vulnerable people. If participation risks causing harm, alternative ways of understanding user needs should be considered.

In a family court project I worked on, we didn’t start with primary research. Instead, we drew on the body of existing literature describing the challenges parents face in family court. We also spoke to proxy users, such as court staff and support workers, to deepen our understanding of what parents needed and where they struggled.

When gap analysis identified where primary research was genuinely needed, I proposed recruiting participants in more considered circumstances — for example, parents with historical experiences of court. Although this still carried a risk of re‑traumatisation, it felt safer than speaking to people actively involved in ongoing court disputes.

Design research with accessibility and trauma in mind

Trauma can affect concentration, memory, and communication. The same is true of learning disabilities, neurodivergence, low literacy, and language barriers — all of which are over‑represented in the prison population compared to the general public.

So, when planning research with people in prison, I simplified the language I used throughout the research process. Consent forms, information sheets and discussion guides were written in plain language, using short sentences, and avoiding acronyms or jargon. Sessions were also much shorter than usual — often only 20 to 30 minutes — with flexibility built in for breaks or ending early.

This served multiple purposes. First, it helped to accommodate people who might feel overwhelmed by taking part in research. Second, it gave participants more control over how much they participated — choice is often incredibly limited in prison settings. It also made the research more practical: prisons are unpredictable environments, and planning shorter sessions made it easier to adapt when plans had to change last minute.

Safeguard yourself and your participants

The potential impact of research needs to be considered before it begins. Knowing which safeguarding protocols to follow in the event of a disclosure is essential. At the Ministry of Justice, there are clear processes outlining what to do and who to speak to if a participant poses a risk to themselves or others.

Preparation also involved anticipating what difficult topics might come up, thinking through how to respond, and ensuring appropriate aftercare was available for participants. You can read more about this here.

Self‑awareness matters too. Research can affect researchers as well as participants, and vicarious trauma is real. During my time in the justice sector, research was never conducted alone. Limits were placed on the number of sessions held each day or week, and time was regularly set aside to debrief with colleagues.

These debriefs gave the team space to share how we were feeling and to offer mutual support. In the absence of formal containment structures, such as clinical supervision, collective reflection played an important role in protecting team wellbeing and reducing emotional harm.

Be aware of power dynamics

Power exists in all research settings, but it is particularly pronounced in the justice sector. It’s important to reflect on how participants may feel about taking part in research conducted by someone working within such an authoritative system.

In prison projects, I found it helpful to think carefully about how I might be perceived. Arriving in casual clothes helped distinguish me from prison staff, police or inspectors. I also encouraged staff to introduce me by my name (Kate), rather than my title (Miss Stulberg).

Avoiding the language and symbols of hierarchy may seem like small things, but in an environment shaped by control and authority, I think this helped to create a warmer, less intimidating space for research.

Things to think about during research

However well you prepare, research is unpredictable — especially when working with people who have experienced trauma. How we respond in the moment is important — not only what is said and how it’s said, but also what’s left unsaid, and how a participant may appear to be feeling.

Prioritise safety over insight

Emotional and psychological safety should always take precedence over collecting data.

I always started user research by setting clear expectations at the beginning of the session: explaining who I was, why I was there, what data was being collected and why, and reiterating that participation was a choice. Being transparent about safeguarding and disclosure — particularly any limits to confidentiality — was also crucial to explain upfront.

During sessions with both court and prison users, I watched for signs of discomfort or overwhelm, even if they didn’t share this explicitly. Sometimes the most trauma‑informed decision was to skip a question, redirect the conversation, or end a session early — even if that meant gathering less insight.

This didn’t just apply to participants. It mattered if anyone in the room felt uncomfortable. Before prison visits, for example, I would agree a safe word with observers so that, if used, I would know to find a safe way to end the session, without any need for explanation.

We’re researchers, not therapists

Participants may disclose difficult or distressing experiences during research — often unexpectedly, or only loosely related to the research topic.

A trauma‑informed approach doesn’t mean encouraging disclosure or trying to help people process what they’ve been through. It means listening respectfully, acknowledging what’s been shared, and maintaining clear boundaries.

When participants shared traumatic experiences with me in research, I would gently signal that they didn’t need to go into detail, and steer the conversation back to the research focus. In a couple of scenarios, it was difficult to get back on track so I chose to end the session early. Protecting participants from revisiting trauma is important — as is ensuring I did not take on a role I wasn’t trained or supported to fulfil.

Frame questions appropriately

Sometimes, questions that feel neutral to us as researchers may feel judgemental or interrogative to participants.

From my earlier work with children and young people, I learned that asking “why” can unintentionally imply blame or overwhelm — particularly for people who have experienced trauma. Reframing questions to focus on “how” or “what led to” often felt gentler and more open.

Things to think about after research

Trauma‑informed practice doesn’t end when a participant leaves the room. How we respond to disclosures, process what we’ve heard, and share insight matters too.

Respond appropriately to disclosures

If a disclosure of harm is shared, safeguarding protocols must be followed.

This means reporting disclosures promptly through the appropriate channels, writing clear and factual notes while details are fresh, and seeking support from colleagues if needed. While this hasn’t happened often in my work, it has happened. It’s easier to handle these scenarios when there is a clear structure in place to support next steps.

Build in time to reflect and decompress

Research with people who have experienced trauma can leave a mark, even when sessions seem to go well. The impact isn’t always immediate, though. Sometimes it can show up later as fatigue, irritability, or disengagement.

Having space to talk through a session with a colleague has been helpful. So has reflecting on my own emotional reaction to work, and identifying when to make space between research days or difficult research topics. These practices have helped to prevent vicarious trauma from accumulating unnoticed, and to make this work feel more sustainable.

Consider how insight is shared

Trauma‑informed research extends to how findings are written up and communicated. Not every quote or case study needs to be shared, and detail should always be proportionate.

Our role is to highlight user needs, not to sensationalise harm. Where sensitive content is necessary, content or trigger warnings can help to prepare readers. I found this especially important in my work relating to family courts, given so many of my colleagues were parents.

Keep learning

I’ve talked about reflection a lot, because I think it’s something that you need to consistently do when working in a trauma-informed way. Even after a particularly difficult project has ended, I’ve found it useful to ask myself what worked well, what felt uncertain or under‑prepared, and what I would do differently next time.

Even writing this blog has been a form of reflection — helping me to acknowledge how much I’ve learned, while also recognising there’s still room to grow as I leave the justice sector to work on something new.

What do you think? Do my reflections resonate with you? Are there areas you agree or disagree with? And how are you trying to reduce harm in your own research practice?