Where Small Data Grows Up
In the buzz of big data, it’s the whisper of small data that often holds the untold stories. In a 2019 report I highlighted that 44% of early years professionals are on state benefits. This single piece of data paints an unequivocal picture of the challenges faced by those who work with our youngest learners, yet it didn’t require sifting through complex datasets to find. It was right there, in the open, waiting to make a difference.
This brings me to another element in the equation: language. I’ve always had a bit of a thing for grammar. Growing up, I was that kid who actually enjoyed verb conjugation exercises in school. So, when I use “data” with a singular verb, it’s not a mistake. It’s a choice.
Why does this matter? Because the real work—the kind that changes lives and shapes futures—happens when we break down barriers to understanding. And if we’re serious about bringing everyone on board with data-driven policy-making, we can’t let debates over terms like “data” vs. “datum” stand in the way. It’s about more than just words, though. It’s about making sure that the insights we gain from data, big or small, are accessible to those who need them most: the educators working on the ground and policy-makers who make decisions affecting them.
Many years ago, when I quit the sector of big data and big money (economics) for the sector of small data and small money (early childhood education), the emphasis on evidence-based practices and data-driven policies was already strong but it felt a bit off the mark to me, noticing that in the education sector people were not usually trained to analyse or use complex data. This made me question if the decision-making process was too far from the people implementing those decisions, and if teachers were only dealing with the consequences of those decisions, without having a clear stake in making them (or resisting them).
That’s when I became involved in community of practices centred on helping teachers improve their data literacy. This work resonated with my belief in simplicity and prompted me to consider language usage. Should we adhere to academic conventions or embrace everyday language? And here’s the thing about simplicity—it’s powerful. This isn’t about dumbing down; it’s about opening up. It’s about ensuring that the insights we gather are as accessible and actionable as possible.
So, while I may have had to play by the rules and revert to “data” as plural in my dissertation, my day-to-day language reflects my belief in the power of accessibility and simplicity. This small act of linguistic rebellion is my way of saying that it’s time we focus on what truly matters: making a difference, one simple word and one small data at a time.
Sara Bonetti Research 