An obvious conversation about the future of sampling and the models we need next.
For years, research worked on a simple assumption. Larger samples led to larger projects, and larger projects drove growth. That made sense when people were easy to reach and participation felt uncomplicated. That world has shifted. Response rates are lower, younger groups sit in channels the industry rarely touches, and panels carry pressures they were never designed for. The idea that growth comes from chasing bigger sample sizes no longer matches the reality in front of us.
This is why the question is starting to change. Instead of asking how to reach more people, it makes more sense to consider how we work differently with the people who are willing to take part. Smaller, well designed studies often offer clearer insight because they match the attention people actually have today. Once you stop tying value to scale, the commercial model becomes more straightforward. You can build offerings around interpretation, pace, and direction rather than volume, and the work becomes easier for clients to understand.
The old model created pressure to stretch supply across increasingly large studies. The next phase is about working with focus, designing for modern attention, and giving respondents an experience they can realistically complete. When that shift happens, delivery becomes calmer and the work becomes stronger.
When traditional access no longer reflects reality.

Many of us learned research in a period where access to respondents felt automatic. Panels had depth, email invitations performed well, and participants accepted heavier tasks without asking why they were needed. That landscape has moved on. People haven’t disappeared, but they now sit across smaller networks, private channels, and platforms that traditional sampling rarely reaches. Panels still have a place, but they can’t support everything in the way they once did, and the pressure shows in rising costs and uneven fieldwork.
Continuing as if nothing has changed creates friction in almost every project. This isn’t an argument for abandoning suppliers. It’s an argument for taking responsibility for a portion of our own access, even if it’s small, so we aren’t shaped entirely by market conditions.
Smaller ecosystems create a healthier foundation for research.

A modest sampling ecosystem gives you a more grounded base to work from. It isn’t a panel or a formal community. It’s simply a group of people who understand why you’re asking for input and who take part again because the experience is fair and purposeful. They aren’t expected to respond constantly. They’re involved when the topic fits, and that clarity strengthens the relationship.
What you gain is steadiness. Without the pressure to chase high volumes, you can design research in shorter cycles, follow up more easily, and explore topics with more care. Insight becomes cleaner because participants aren’t fatigued or confused by the task. The work quietens, and it becomes easier to see the patterns that matter.
The commercial upside is bigger than the industry realises.

A small ecosystem isn’t just a delivery improvement. It creates commercial stability. When you have your own access point, even a small one, you’re no longer dependent on volume to make the numbers work. You gain something proprietary that strengthens with use and reflects your way of working. It becomes a genuine differentiator because most of the industry still relies on the same external sources.
This advantage compounds. As supply becomes more volatile, organisations with their own access routes can take on projects others need to decline, work in faster cycles, and shift their pricing toward interpretation and clarity rather than scale. Growth becomes less about chasing numbers and more about deepening value. Your niche becomes clearer because you can see which topics and audiences generate the strongest insight. Your services become sharper because they’re built around what you can deliver ‘reliably’.
In a sector still shaped by volume based thinking, having your own ecosystem is a strategic move, not a side project.
Breaking the link between sample size and revenue sharpens the work.

Once you stop pricing around scale, the work naturally becomes more focused. You’re paid for helping clients understand what’s happening, not for delivering large datasets. You concentrate on behaviour, tone, reactions, contradictions, and meaning rather than on hitting arbitrary sample targets.
As you use your ecosystem, your strengths show themselves. Certain questions reveal more insight. Certain audiences fit your approach better. Certain topics create richer discussions. These signals help shape your niche without the need for heavy positioning work. The offer becomes more coherent because it reflects your actual practice, not a theoretical service range.
A future built on access you create, not access you rent.

The biggest change is the mindset shift. Panels became the default because they solved a problem that existed twenty years ago. Today’s challenge is different. Participation is more selective, attention is less available, and the assumption that we can always scale up fieldwork no longer holds. You don’t need a large infrastructure to adapt. You just need a few access points that strengthen over time: people who return because the experience works, channels you understand, or small networks that welcome collaboration.
When you have even a few of these in place, you’re no longer shaped entirely by market supply. You can use external sources when you need them, but you aren’t dependent on them for everything. If supply continues to shift, teams with their own access adapt faster, deliver smoother fieldwork, and design research that fits how participation works today rather than how it used to work.
The supply we depended on may no longer be the supply we can rely on, but that doesn’t have to signal decline. It can mark the point where the industry stops assuming scale is inevitable and starts building access that is sustainable, intentional, and far better suited to the world we work in now.










