Dr. Moshiur Rahman
Within the Bangladeshi researcher community, we often talk about “smart work,” “innovation,” and “high-impact papers.” Yet, beneath all these lies a single skill that operates quietly, and which we seldom discuss directly—critical thinking. For researchers today, as for software engineers, product managers, and data scientists, this is practically a survival skill. Because the real challenge in research is never just collecting data or running code; the real challenge is in asking the right questions, identifying the true problem, and arriving at an evidence-based, possible solution.
Critical thinking does not mean being negative or looking at everything with suspicion. Rather, it means maintaining a humble curiosity when encountering new information, while also keeping a reasonable skepticism. You don’t assume your own hypotheses are absolute, but you also don’t think everything else is wrong. In research terms, it’s about maintaining a mindset of “peer review” even over your own ideas.
A researcher’s day begins with a question: What am I truly trying to solve? Many of us rush into the lab, start writing code, or develop survey forms without first pausing to ask ourselves—have I really identified the right problem? If, after working months on a project, we realize we haven’t correctly understood the target group that secured the funding in the first place, then all of that effort may, at least in part, be misdirected. That’s why the first question should always be: Are we solving the right problem?
The next question is even subtler: Are we attempting to solve the problem in the right way? In research, it’s not always possible to be extremely rigorous, but taking too many shortcuts just to see “quick results” can be dangerous. Given constraints—time, budget, equipment, personnel—we have to repeatedly consider how much rigor is enough at which stage. A critically thinking researcher strikes this “rigor vs efficiency” balance consciously—not out of emotion or external pressure.
In many cases, we look at symptoms without considering the root cause. For example, in a hospital-based study, suppose you observe more side effects with a particular drug. If you only reduce or change the drug dose for a temporary fix, the issue may resurface later as new symptoms. Critical thinking teaches you to ask: What’s the real reason beyond this observation? Is it a data collection issue? Sample bias? Confounding factors? Or are the side effects genuine?
This is where the skill of “breaking down big questions into smaller ones” comes in. Tackling a major research question directly is less effective than breaking it into sub-questions. For instance, instead of asking, “Why is diabetes prevalence rising in Bangladesh?” you could separately ask: What has changed in dietary habits? What are the differences between urban and rural areas? How does risk vary across economic classes? Where are the gaps in primary healthcare? Doing smaller studies, pilots, or data analyses based on these sub-questions often provides a much clearer picture of the main question.
When we get some initial answers or insights, these are actually hypotheses—testable assumptions. Another aspect of critical thinking is: How do I design the work to test these hypotheses? Which experiments will I do first, which datasets will I use, which statistical tests are appropriate—these must be determined strategically. Under pressure of time or funding deadlines, we often don’t compare alternative designs properly, which may later result in replication crises or conflicting results.
Another reality is that every researcher works within some constraints. Grant deadlines, students’ thesis submissions, access to equipment—often these require that shortcuts be taken. Critical thinking helps you understand: which shortcuts are acceptable, and which ones could, in the future, put the integrity of all your findings at risk. “Have I applied the necessary controls properly?” “How much stronger would my conclusion be with two extra weeks?” By asking yourself these questions, you can at least clearly document your own limitations, so that future researchers can understand the scope of your work as they build upon it.
At the center of critical thinking is evidence and evidence-based decisions. The question is simple: Is the data we have strong enough to support our conclusions? Is statistical significance alone enough, or do we also need to scrutinize effect size, confounding, and sample representativeness? As researchers, we must repeatedly ask ourselves, “Does what I write truly follow from the data, or am I unconsciously forcing some interpretations to match my expectations?”
Another key question in research is, “When is my work ‘good enough’?” Many of us fall into the trap of perfectionism and sit on a paper for years, while others rush to produce the minimum publishable unit. Critical thinking helps here to strike a sense of balance—you consciously decide whether, at this stage of the question, this amount of data and analysis can reasonably support an answer.
Another aspect of critical thinking is communication. It’s not enough to have a logical argument in your own head; you have to present your solutions clearly and logically to co-authors, supervisors, reviewers, and even non-technical stakeholders. Whether it’s a project update, grant proposal, or conference presentation, you must show: what question you asked, why it was important, how you looked for answers, what limitations there are, and what needs to be done next.
Certain traits of a critically thinking researcher are very clear. They ask questions, but those questions are not vague or emotional—instead, they are framed specifically and clearly. They patiently collect relevant data, verify the reliability of sources, and consider how the data may answer the central questions. They don’t rush to draw conclusions; instead, they test their decisions against reasonable standards—by comparing with other studies, and considering alternative explanations.
Such researchers do not regard their own thinking system as the absolute truth. When needed, they engage with alternative theories, perspectives from other disciplines, and even contrary evidence to their own hypotheses. They are consciously aware of the influence of their own preconceptions, biases, and incentives. Finally, they know how to think collectively—they engage in open discussions with colleagues, do not take disagreement as a personal attack, but rather see it as an opportunity to strengthen their hypotheses.
For Bangladeshi researchers, critical thinking may not be a new theory, but it is now time to consciously integrate it into our daily practice. When we hurriedly write up projects, focus solely on “paper output,” or simply carry out instructions from supervisors—these are the times when we most need to pause and ask ourselves a few difficult questions. That’s what critical thinking really means—thinking with purpose, striving to make decisions for oneself, and anticipating future problems by understanding cause and effect.
In the world of research, we often say, “Good science is good thinking.” At the core of that “good thinking” is critical thinking—which will not just make you a better researcher, but also shape you into a responsible citizen and a mature human being.
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