Chapter1 FindingtheRightConversation 1
Chapter1 FindingtheRightConversation 1
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I recently read an intriguing newspaper article about Gordon Matta-Clark, who in the early 1970s
purchased 15 parcels of land in New York City described as “tiny, irregular, inaccessible or otherwise
unusable.” Acquiring the results of zoning anomalies and survey errors seemed very idiosyncratic to
me. It was hard to understand what was going on until I realized that the article was in the Art section
of the paper.1
Matta-Clark created collages of deeds, maps, and photographs of his sites, which he called “Fake
Estates” (a play on “real estate”). He made a video about his effort to find each property and outline
it in chalk. This was not his only artistic endeavor. Another project involved clandestinely cutting
holes in buildings scheduled to be destroyed, which according to the article made them into
unexpected sculptures. The report referred to other activist-artists responding to the “inaccessible
and forlorn.” It discussed a broader interest in absence that has fascinated several different artistic
movements, and indicated that twenty-seven years after Matta-Clark’s death a New York gallery was
showing a commissioned set of responses to Fake Estates by 19 different artists, while the Whitney
Museum of American Art was planning a major retrospective exhibition of his work.
The story illustrates a critical point for academics as well as artists in my mind. Most of us are
involved in investigations that we find interesting, but some observers might consider as singular as
buying odd bits of unusable land or as transitory as altering buildings slated for destruction. Yet we
do not work alone. What makes us social scientists (historians, chemists, or artists) is that we are part
of a collective effort using similar language, values, methods and training to respond to similar
questions. As the result of both our conscious decisions and attributions made by others, social
context highlights related actions and reinforces claims for their significance. Because of context,
Matta-Clark can be understood as an artist influenced by and contributing to several conversations in
the arts and humanities focused on the absent and neglected. The results of that collective effort
have had a significant impact on how society understands a changing world.
As scholars we hope that our accomplishments are similarly judged to be significant, and others will
be inspired to do related work for many years. Whether or not fame is the outcome, however, we
must recognize that our activities will be compared to the activities of other academics. Furthermore,
we are very likely to understand what we are trying to do (at least in part) by comparing our efforts
with what others have done. The ongoing process is visualized in Figure 1.1,2 which is used as a basic
framework in this book to discuss key research and publication decisions.
1
Figure 1.1: The Sensemaking/Sensegiving Circle of Scholarship
sensemaking sensegiving
sensegiving sensemaking
The figure suggests that we try to understand what other scholars are doing and saying in
conversation, more formal presentations, and their written/visual productions. That sensemakingi
effort informs our own scholarly activities and subsequent conversation, presentations and other
outputs. Whether we are conscious of the effort or not, we provide sensegivingii cues that affect
our audience in their own sensemaking efforts.
The powerful idea that scholarship is an interactive and collective activity was not salient in my
doctoral education. I was certainly trying to make sense of my new profession as I listened to lectures,
read, and interacted with others. The expectation of giving something back might have (should have)
influenced my dissertation, but instead I began and ended with an individual agenda. It is not
surprising that my first efforts to write about my research were rejected; I did not provide enough
clues for reviewers to make sense of what I was trying to do.
In frustration, I thought that more successful people were part of a conversation that excluded me.
But that basic idea was the needed breakthrough, as described in the book Writing for Scholarly
Publication.3 I already knew a lot about conversation, as we all do, and I used this knowledge to
redefine my academic writing as a ‘statement’ that responded to statements written by others. It was a
move from what might be called ‘intellectual inquiry’ to the give and take of scholarship.iii
Intellectuals seek knowledge based on their individual interests.
Scholars increase publicly available knowledge
in areas of study they develop by interacting with other scholars.
Before going into more detail, it is worth saying a bit more about the consequences of deliberately
choosing conversationiv. First, the conversation you join will (and should) influence what you study.
Sensemaking: identifying expressions by others as meaningful, reasonable, memorable, and relating to one’s own
experience.
Sensegiving: attempting to influence the sensemaking and meaning construction of others toward a preferred definition
of reality.
Scholarship: attaining knowledge through study that is informed by the activities of other scholars.
Scholar: a specialist in a particular branch of study whose intellectual efforts are influenced by other scholars.
Conversation: a descriptive metaphor for interaction among scholars who have a common interest in increasing
knowledge about a related set of subjects using compatible methods of inquiry.
2
You want to talk with other scholars because what they say interests you and because you hope that
your work will interest them. Anticipating their interests, you must select the most compelling subset
of what you might possibly offer in conversation.
Once engaged, some ideas you wish would attract attention will be ignored or dismissed. Think about
how often conversation at a social event gallops after one remark, never returning to subjects you
think are more interesting. Similarly, only a few ideas from a presentation or even a published article
are likely to lead to further academic discussion. It is sensible to follow up on these ideas, even if you
must abandon other topics you still find appealing.
This is an important aspect of academic work that is given too little attention in my opinion.
Successful scholarship requires the discipline to listen to others. With a few brilliant exceptions, the
activities of published scholars are shaped by what those around them find compelling. Of course
you will try to make your unique contribution attractive, and it is always possible to search for a new
conversation that might respond to an insight that has not found an audience where you are. But no
conversation covers everything that might be said about a particular project, and no scholar has the
resources to develop all the ideas he or she would like to pursue.
The second important implication of recognizing the social side of scholarship is that it will modify
how you work. Other scholars will recognize and accept what you do in part because they understand
and approve of your activities. Their sensemaking is facilitated by your making familiar and tested
researchv designvi decisions. Some contributions require challenging expectations, but unnecessary
novelties are better abandoned.
In short, the definition of scholarship as a sensemaking/sensegiving circle clarifies the ways in which
individual scholarship is molded. More important, however, it shows how the collective context of
scholarship enables us. What we might have done as an intellectual individual is leveraged by
contributing to a larger effort. We have more resources at our disposal when we choose to be
scholars. Knowledgeable colleagues help us understand and refine our ideas. Originality is revealed
by comparison with others. Thus, the most important advice in this chapter:
Use your personal interests and experiences as a source of inspiration for scholarly work,
but frame and develop them in ways that relate to an area of inquiry other scholars will recognize.
An important implication of the social side of scholarship is that each of us is where we are in our
unique scholarly histories because of other people, and our future opportunities will continue to be
shaped by this experience. Even if you have been involved with academics for some time, it can be
revealing to explore the web of connections that inevitably influence your sensemaking and
sensegiving activities.
Research: diligent and systematic inquiry or investigation into a subject in order to discover or revise facts, theories,
applications, etc.
Research Design: a plan for purposeful scholarly activity. This book suggests that the purpose of design should be to
produce outcomes that others judge to be interesting, significant and trustworthy.
3
Exercise 1: Map your biographical trajectory
1. Position yourself in the academic world by putting your name, your current institution,
and your present subjects of interest, in the middle of a visual map.
2. Draw lines to this position from important influences listed at the top of the page,
including advisers and their institutions (and perhaps their advisers and institutions).
3. Then list one or more destinations you would like to reach in 5 to 10 years at the bottom
of the page, drawing arrows through experiences that might lead to these desired targets.
If you share your biographical map with others, it can be a useful shorthand for getting to know your
colleagues. I hope it also encourages you to think about your scholarly identityvii and helps you be
purposeful in responding to current and future opportunities.
Your curriculum vita, along with your website if you have one, is the most succinct statement of who
you are and what you are trying to do. Working on these statements is not just a matter of external
communication; it is an instructive mirror for self-reflection. At the beginning of their careers, many
people feel that they do not have that much to present on a vita, what they do have is the result of
past efforts not fully under their control, and they are just discovering what they really want to do. If
you feel this way, you may be amused to know that many people with longer histories feel exactly the
same way – I do myself. We move forward by creating a plausible ‘storyline’ that clarifies our choices,
both to ourselves and to others.4
Ideally you have a clear sense of who you are and where you want to go, and are working on a
compatible project that you will use as the subject of subsequent exercises in this book. I strongly
urge readers who are less sure of their scholarly trajectory to stop and use their vita to purposefully
develop one project in the exercises that follow.
Exercise 2: Use your curriculum vita to envision and choose among research and
career opportunities
1. Make a list of the subjects you are currently working on, or would like to investigate in the
next year or so.
2. As a separate activity, select 2 or 3 plausible career trajectories & make a separate draft of
your current vita that expresses these alternatives. Though it may not be worthwhile to
develop polished drafts, I suggest you think about how different formats, different
statements of objectives, and different descriptions of past and current activities present
realistic career and research alternatives.
3. Systematically examine how the subjects identified in the first task of this exercise fit each
vita/scenario.
4. Choose the most attractive subject/career combination and consider how additional
entries over the next year or two might reinforce your selected identity. You should
consider not just publications, but manuscripts submitted, conference attendance,
teaching, coursework, work in progress, and so on.
5. Post this target vita where it can help focus your day-to-day activities and be frequently
updated.
Identity: a combination of individual interests, values and skills that inform behavior, tend to persist over time, and are
relatively unique when compared with others.
4
6. Identify a specific research project to develop in subsequent exercises in this book that
will contribute to the path you have chosen to follow.
Exercise 2 can be time consuming, but it involves important tasks. Too many people coming to the
workshops I offer are simultaneously working on disparate subjects without thinking about the
distracting implications of this investment. I can identify with those who find many projects
attractive, because disparate topics interest me as well. Over time my enthusiasm has led me in
various directions, but some of these have been much more strategic excursions than others.
Flexibility may be necessary, and exploration is critical to innovation. However, I point out that
people who want to keep more than one career trajectory alive are able to draw on only half (1/3rd?
even less?) of the energy they might be using to create knowledge around a more focused agenda.
The ‘ci’ root of the word ‘decide’ means “to cut.” (It is also present in the words ‘incisors’ and
‘scissors.’) You decided that you wanted academic training when you enrolled in a time consuming
graduate program and rejected other careers, for example. Similar focusing decisions continue to be
required over time. We all accept new jobs, meet new colleagues, start new projects, and teach new
courses. A relatively clear sense of identity helps you chart a course through the many possibilities for
scholarly work that will come your way. With attention you can significantly increase your scholarly
abilities while also creating a comprehensible pattern that has an impact on others.
Of course, you are likely to alter how you define yourself over time. Karl Weick puts it very succinctly
in his book about sensemaking:
When I know who I am, then I know what is ‘out there’.
But the direction of causality flows just as often in the other direction.5
My elaboration of this profound assertion is that:
When I know who I am and what conversation I am in (or want to be in), then I know what
is worth paying attention to as a scholar. But as we collectively identify subjects that are worth
knowing more about, and I discover my ability to say something about them, the direction of
causality can flow in the other direction. I may redefine the conversations I want to be part of
and the subjects I want to study. As I do that my identity as a scholar will change, whether I
intend it to or not.
Academic conversation is a relationship. As with all relationships a rewarding encounter depends not
only on your characteristics, but on the characteristics of your counterpart. Thus the ‘right’
conversation to join depends not only on your identity, training, and career trajectory, but also on
distinctive features of the collective effort you envision joining.
Choice is an intellectual decision, a practical decision, and a political decision. I emphasize the
second and third ideas because these aspects of decision rarely receive formal attention. I was so
aware of what seemed to be the hidden socio-political side of academics that one of my first scholarly
5
publications is a theoretical comparison of how less powerful actors can influence their fate in
organizations.6 Harold Lasswell’s definition of politics as “who gets what”7 is a useful definition in
this article, but I later decided that people often use the label ‘political’ when they do not understand
what is going on. As I gained experience, a number of outcomes continued to vex and confuse me,
but many things that once seemed political began to make more sense.
We all have questions about the consequences of the choices we are making. Some of these
questions appear in bold type in this book. They are highlighted by a graphic face that has an
ambiguous expression because the situations described typically have positive as well as negative
aspects. Consider this example:
My advisor expects to define the subjects I work on. Do I have any alternatives?
This is one of the situations I once found intolerable, but now see in a more complex way. There are
considerable benefits to doing research on a topic chosen by an advisor, even for those who are not
that interested in the subject. Advisors have much more experience than their students and are
therefore able to define researchable topics that are likely to interest others. They point toward
subjects where they can offer expert advice. They are likely to have data and other resources that will
ease the research process, as well as useful contacts with other scholars interested in the topic. This is
particularly useful when things do not work out as planned, as must be expected in projects of any
complexity. These are all advantages that cannot be abandoned lightly.
However, I believe that it is critical to be genuinely attracted to the scholarly community one joins.
Choosing on practical grounds alone is risky. [As an aside, this paragraph also pertains to those who
choose to work on a topic merely because it is currently popular.] Scholars who follow the interests
of others start with a disadvantage. They can gain ground if they work hard, but it will be difficult for
them to contribute as much as those who are strongly attracted to the topic. Once conversation
moves on, and sooner or later attention will turn to new topics, the weakly connected are less likely to
have gained insight for subsequent projects. Even more problematic, in the minds of other scholars
they are associated with a topic that they do not care about. The tie can be an unwelcome anchor on
future options.
Therefore students who continue to be aggravated by a forced choice are strongly urged to seek
another advisor. Before doing so, however, you might propose an adjacent (more interesting to you)
conversation that expands an advisor’s assignment. Or, you might see if you can carry out an assigned
investigation in a context that interests you, and thus forge a personal link to a task you have been
given. At the least it is important to continue to do some work on topics and problems that genuinely
compel your attention. Scholarly activities of your own choice on weekends and time off maintain
contacts and contribute to a vita that may lead to more appealing future employment.
This is just one of many questions about the practical and political aspects of research design. Only a
few can be addressed in this short book but two more are particularly relevant to the problem of
finding the right conversation to join.
I am attracted to a conversation that I do not really have the skills to join. Surely
that is too risky?
Some scholars walk away from a conversation that attracts them because they feel unprepared to
make a contribution, but attraction is an emotion to be taken seriously. It is virtually impossible for
most people reading this book to choose to be a brain surgeon at this point in their lives. Gaining the
skills required to contribute to the scholarly conversations around you is more likely, though
6
significant effort may be required. In fact, it makes sense to choose challenging conversations
precisely because they call for developing new skills that will expand your conversational
opportunities in the future.
You might rightly respond that there is a higher chance of success from contributions that build on
your current skills and I agree that these opportunities should be taken seriously as well. Why not
attempt to benefit from both strategies? Recent conversations in the field of management have
praised ambidextrous organizations that can exploit current capabilities and also explore promising
new territory.8 I believe this is a good model for managing an academic career as well.
This possibility highlights the fact that ‘conversation’ is a mental construction. You define the
conversation you want to have, though the result must be accepted by editors, reviewers and readers.
Much more detail is provided in Chapters 3 and 8. In brief, you help yourself and the scholarly
community understand the nature of your contribution through research design, starting with your
selection of subject, arguments, and references. These choices should make the most of what you
have to offer.
What about trying to influence a conversation that I’m convinced is going in the
wrong direction? I have a lot of energy to work on that!
I will admit that strong objection to a line of inquiry is an energizing point of departure, but I worry
about this decision. If the idea of conversation is taken seriously, it is easy to see that saying “you’re
wrong” is unlikely to be the starting point of genuine exchange. Saying “you’re immoral” is more of a
non-starter, and yet this is often where strong energy comes from. As Gademer says: “the first
condition of the art of conversation is ensuring that the other person is with us...one does not try to
argue the other person down but...really considers the weight of the other’s opinion.”9
The quote comes from a recent article on ‘Conversation as Experiential Learning’ by Baker, Jensen
and Kolb. It is part of a particularly interesting argument, because the authors go on to say (in
apparent contradiction) that “conversation is a meaning-making process whereby understanding is
achieved through the interplay of opposites and contradictions.”10 I think they have identified an
essential tension. It is hard to say something new to people you agree with completely. Disagreement
tends to be more exciting, and leads to innovation. Furthermore, as Mike Wallace suggests in Chapter
13, discerning judgment lies at the heart of scholarship and meeting the challenge of your future
reviewers requires that you are a critical reader and writer yourself. The only conclusion is
paradoxical, and the second strongly felt advice offered in this chapter:
Do not join a conversation unless you can agree with many central assumptions and domain interests,
but also walk away from conversations that do not offer something significant to disagree with.
One possibility for those who feel a group of scholars is misguided is to look for others who have
come to similar conclusions. Opinions about what is wrong and what might be done will almost
certainly be varied enough to generate an interesting conversation among those who share a common
concern. This interaction should be much more rewarding than trying to chip away at the well-
fortified foundation used by colleagues for whom you have little sympathy. Of course, the basis of
your disagreement may be less central. If the conversation that concerns you occurs among scholars
whom you are positive about in general, you are urged to stay engaged. Chapter 3 provides several
ideas about how you might introduce your objections.
7
This is just an introduction to issues elaborated in subsequent chapters, but I hope they help you see
additional implications of understanding scholarship as a social activity. An important part of
sensemaking is learning about the norms of the group you want to join. It is worth thinking about
what it means to be a good citizen and it is important to recognize that what you do in turn affects
that community. The social context of manuscript review, for example, in my opinion means that
reviewers (like dissertation chairs and other advisers) should be careful about imposing their interests
on an author. Chapter 12 adds further detail on reviewing, based on the idea that judgment and
advice about improvement are facilitated by basic positive regard – in reviewing and all other
scholarly conversations.
Moving back to an individual level of analysis, we are considering the balance between your interests
and your opportunities. This is a subject you are likely to consider many times. Your best job offer
may be from a research project that is not that close to your interests. Dual career considerations or
desired geographic location may lead you to unanticipated choices. A valued colleague may ask you
to work on a project that is far from your current interests. You may have an opportunity to collect
excellent data – about phenomena that have not previously attracted you. The key questions at these
and other choice-points in my opinion are: What can I learn from this possibility? Can I reframe the
situation to bring it closer to my interests? Are there options for keeping previous interests alive as
part of my portfolio? But how distracting will that be?
Reading the literature provides information about the contest, questions, methods, etc. that
characterize different conversations. In some cases you will encounter, or be directed to encounter, a
coherent set of cues. In other cases the sensemaking task is far from obvious. You are especially
likely to be overwhelmed when searching for references to a new subject of interest. For example, if
you search for ‘identity’ on Google Scholar, a subject that has been of interest across the humanities
and social sciences for several decades, there are over 4 million references available. My more
specific interest is in organizational identity, but that subdivision yields over five thousand references.
No one can pay attention to all of these publications; nor should they. A quick scan indicates they
are concerned with different contexts and ask very different questions, two important indicators of
different conversations.
It is very helpful to construct a mental map like that found in Figure 1.2, which is deliberately
abstracted so that you can imagine conversations about topics that interest you. The figure
distinguishes just two conversations – about “I” and a quite similar subject “I'.” The conversation on
the right is connected with two academic disciplines (for the subject of organizational identity they
might be psychology and sociology); the one on the left is linked to a profession (management).
8
Figure 1.2: Two Conversations about Similar Topics I and I’
Ontology/epistemology Ontology/epistemology
A
E Conversation Conversation
about I about I’
F Journals Journals
Ŏ,Ő,Θ Ş,Ŝ,Ś
H
Professional association Professional association
A third important indication of the existence of distinct conversations is that articles appear in
distinct journals. In figure 1.2 some publications are associated with disciplinary journals (on the
right) while others have editorial boards and typically publish works by authors from professional
schools (on the left). It is particularly useful, however, because it reveals interconnections that can
be confusing. Many distinct conversations like the two shown in Figure 1.2 draw on the same base
discipline (in this case P, or Psychology). Often there are common references to the same theory (in
this case ‘theory x’) in otherwise quite disparate articles. There are likely to be similar ontological and
epistemological assumptions about the nature of research (the subject of Chapter 6) and similar
methods (discussed in more detail in Chapter 9) across the articles you find when trying to
understand a popular subject.
How to proceed? Figure 1.2 suggests you might look for references to distinct, field-related theories,
an important fourth clue (after similar contextual interests, distinct questions, and affiliation of
journals) that can be found in a careful review of text and references. However, scholarly
conversations occur not only in print, but in meetings and academic departments. You can also look
beyond articles of interest to consider biographical information found on the web pages of individual
scholars, association sites, and information gathered from colleagues around you. Gradually you will
find a network of connections that help outline a general domain, and you will begin to see the
parameters of more specific conversations about particular subjects.
The granularity of your definition of a scholarly conversation will depend upon your purpose. Two
or three publications with a high degree of inter-citations is not really a conversation in my mind,
while it is a generally a good idea to subdivide an area marked by hundreds of references over many
years. 11
9
I feel strongly that it makes sense to identify and reference one conversation as a focal point for the
projectviii you are working on now, even though I know that you will almost certainly participate in
more than one conversation over time, and your current project might be of interest to more than
one conversation. That is because you will increase the chances that other scholars value your current
project if you clearly target a domain others will recognize. ‘Others’ is a fuzzy set, but if you continue
to interact with one group the depth of your subsequent contributions is likely to increase as the
sensemaking circle works more effectively.
It therefore makes sense to obtain as much clarity about the conversational ‘home’ of a project as
possible, before too much time is consumed in research. I have found it helpful to ask workshop
participants to draw circles of the conversational domains that they and their potential readers might
use to understand their current scholarly effort, overlapping them as appropriate. The resulting
‘bubble map’ helps people clarify possible connections between a project that is still being formed
and existing conversations. The map often facilitates a sensible conversational choice. I urge you to
try describing the conversational domain of your current project in this way.
Exercise 3: Visualize the conversations your project might draw on and contribute to
Some people characterize their project in a very focused way in response to this exercise, as simply
represented in Figure 1.3. They want to see their work as distinctive – unlike anyone else’s project.
Often a question/answer pair like one shown comes from personal experience. Though
understandable, I will point out again that the leap to scholarship and publication as I understand
them requires an explicit connection with other scholars.
Project: a scholarly investigation from early design to preparation of one or more publications (or other scholarly
output).
10
Figure 1.3: An Overly Restricted Conversational Map
Interesting
My Answer
Question
The task for people who are having a conversation with themselves is to find work by others that can
provide linking vocabulary and explanations. This chapter suggests that there are two important
indicators of rewarding connection. First, look for a group of scholars/publications asking roughly
similar questions. Second, identify a group that is likely to listen to you because they value your
training and commitments.
Once a potentially compatible conversation is found, the task is to frame your work in ways that
relate to more widely understood vocabulary and questions. You have to have the discipline to self-
edit, but a satisfactory conversation has not been found if it requires abandoning your interests.
Luckily there are many academics at work, and thus many conversations. The very few people who
cannot find fellow travelers seem better off writing, teaching, or consulting for a general audience.
They may be impressive intellectuals, but they are not scholars as I define the word.
Figure 1.4 poses problems that are the opposite of those revealed by Figure 1.3. Scholars who draw
this kind of map are burdened by recognizing too many potential connections between their work
and the efforts of other scholars. For clarification I’ve clustered many bubbles into types identified by
different shapes. There are eleven domains shown. Clearly this is too many disparate sources to really
understand and too many to communicate effectively, but the map does not exaggerate the broad
material that reading for an ambitious project can engender.
Figure 1.4: An Overly Ambitious Conversational Map
Professional
Literature B
Area of Practice1
Professional
Literature A
Area of Practice 2
My Project
Academic
Philosophical
Subject
Discussion X
Academic N
Subject Academic
Philosophical
M Subject
Discussion Y
P
Philosophical Academic
Discussion Z Subject
O
11
I hope you don’t admire the breath, but rather recognize the figure as a trap that frustrates
sensemaking. Often people generate this kind of map because of interdisciplinary interests and
training. In addition, we use search engines and other resources that generate many plausible links in
response to our every key word. It is important to narrow these possibilities, ideally deciding to focus
on one conversation as the focus for sensemaking and sensegiving. My advice:
The scholarly conversation that makes career sense
is with people you expect to see at professional conferences over the next few years.
Early pruning of your conversational ambitions is important for two reasons. First, those who listen
to or read your work will often use your vocabulary and references to infer the kind of conversation
you want to have. If these clues point in too many directions, or involve too many subjects, you are
likely to lose the attention of readers who do not know about or care about these subjects. That is
regrettable if the references are tangential to your own interests as well. A second and even more
important reason to be clear about your conversational focus is that a disorderly pattern of
referencing can confuse you! It is hard to decide on the contribution you want to make when your
references point in many directions.
Conversation (M)
associated with a field that
fits my training & interests,
also providing presentation &
publication opportunities
.
My Project
.
Policy & .
practical issues Secondary
from my interest &
context a source
of ideas for
(2)
explanation
(Z)
The conversation
I want to contribute to
Your choices will inevitably affect the way you and others think about your work. You can help both
internal and external sensemaking with clear communication.
12
Imagine that the typical nametag at a social event had room for the information you hope
other scholars will remember about you.
My name is_____________________
(the name you will consistently use in presentations and publications –
e.g. Ellen Rosen, Frank Piller)
I am a _________________________
(disciplinary or professional affiliation –
e.g. professor of music, professor of management)
The examples describe two people with well established careers, as noted in the footnotes. Yet in
workshops I have found that many people at an earlier point in their careers can complete this
exercise with a similar level of detail. Not surprising, a few others find it impossible. The second
group is urged to work for awhile on the specifics of their current project, then return to the
important task of positioning that project in a specific conversation. Nametags are useful. They help
people know who they want to approach for conversation, and what they are likely to talk about.
Conclusion
Perhaps the descriptions of scholarly conversation in this chapter seem too formidable – something
that only the most experienced scholars have the insight to identify and join. I don’t think so! One of
the reasons I rely on the metaphor of conversation is to remind you of past participation in
interesting and rewarding exchanges. Also remember that positive evaluation of your ideas by
established academics brought you this far. In the right context you can find something interesting to
say to other bright people, in part because you already know a lot about how good conversations
work.
Recently, a participant in a workshop I was running showed me a book he had been assigned in
another course.14 The authors suggest that a dissertation is an apprenticeship, and observe that few
people make important contributions early in their careers. They believe that applying established
theory in a new setting or some other derivative project is sufficient for a dissertation since it is a first
effort. Presumably a similar logic applies to research after the dissertation as well, with individuals
gradually increasing their skills and aspirations until the time for significant contribution arrives.
13
The laudatory intent of this text is to reduce anxiety, but I strongly disagree with the advice because it
limits ambition and is unlikely to yield satisfying conversations. In the next chapter I suggest that the
primary purpose of scholarship is to discover claims that both you and other scholars find:
interesting (and possibly engaging)
significant (and one hopes, but cannot assure, enduring)
trustworthy (and ideally authoritative).
Yes, these are challenging objectives. However, people all around you have been successful enough at
designing and carrying out scholarly projects that their work was published. This must be your
objective as well, starting with your dissertation research if not before. Timidity clogs academic
conversation with triviality and is a hard habit to break. I asked those in the workshop whether they
would apply for a difficult job that required following the footsteps of others for a minimum of 6 -10
years with insignificant personal accomplishment. They wouldn’t, and you wouldn’t either. Enough
said.
1 Kimmelman, M. (2005, September 10-11). Tributes to a bohemian artist of space. International Herald Tribune, p. 9.
2 Karl Weick’s work on sensemaking has had a tremendous influence on how I understand the world in general, and the
work of scholarship more particularly. See, for example, Weick, K.E. (1996). Sensemaking in organizations. Newbury Park,
CA: Sage. Gioia & Chittipeddi extend Weick’s use of sensemaking with a discussion of sensegiving in Gioia, D., &
Chittipeddi, K. (1991). Sensemaking and sensegiving in strategic change initiation. Strategic Management Journal, 12, 433-448.
All graphics in this text were considerably improved with the help of Vivek Velamuri.
3 Huff, A. (1998). Writing for scholarly publication. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage.
4 Schank, R.C. (1995). Tell me a story: Narrative and intelligence. Evanston, IL: Northwestern University Press.
5 Weick, op.cit.
6 Huff, A. (1980). Organizations as Political Systems: Implications for Stability and Change. In T. Cummings (Ed.),
change. California Management Review, 38(4), 8–30. Birkinshaw, J. & Gibson, C. (2004). Contextual determinants of
organizational ambidexterity. Academy of Management Journal, 47(2), 209-226. Birkinshaw, J & Gibson, C (2004). Building
ambidexterity into the organization. Sloan Management Review, 45(4), 47-55.
9 Gadamer, H.-G. (1994). Truth and method. New York: Crossroad, p. 376.
10 Baker, A.C., Jensen, P. J. & Kolb, D. A. (2005). Conversation as Experiential Learning. Management Learning, 36(4), 411-
428.
11 This view of scholarly conversation is strongly influenced by Thomas Kuhn’s description of scholarly activity, though I
am describing more specific interactions than he did when developing the idea of a scientific paradigm. See Kuhn, T.S.
(1962). The structure of scientific revolutions. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
12 This description of opera is based on praise for a book by Ellen Rosand, Professor of Music at Yale University. See
Reducing the risks of new product development. Sloan Management Review, 47(2), 65-71, http://www.open-
innovation.com/ and http://www.open-innovation.com/glossary.htm#oi, both accessed April 29, 2007.
14 Warm thanks to Andreas Birnik, Halla Thomasdottir, John Holmes, Mariano Garrido-Lopez, Roman Ukhov, Sara
Holmes, Thoranna Jonsdottir, William Patterson, Yassar Nasser & Yi Mien Koh from the Cranfield 04-08 Executive
Doctoral Programme for stimulating conversation about ambition and other issues that had an impact on redrafting the
first and last chapters of this book.
14