What do you mean? Linguistic sensitivity and relational reflexivity in scholarly writing

Abstract

We argue that privileged forms of scholarly writing in the English language perpetuate inequalities in academia. While writing and language, on the one hand, and marginalization and exclusion, on the other, are subject to critique, we propose that these are considered together as interrelated elements of an unequal academic system. We call for linguistic sensitivity to challenge the systemic inequalities that condition our writing in English and discuss this by elaborating what relationally reflexive writing can mean in organization studies. We highlight the Polish and Finnish linguistic positions from which we speak and confront hegemonic rhetorical conventions in the English language to argue for more dialogical and inclusive forms of scholarly writing.

Introduction

For Socrates and Plato, truth and knowledge could only be achieved in face-to-face dialogs where one person makes a statement, and another asks: “What do you mean?” During his walks through the Athenian Agora, Socrates questioned his disciples about their values, engaging them in dialog. As a writer, Plato addressed the monologic dimension of text by exploring the question “What do you mean?” Platonic dialogs were inconclusive in nature, and they considered all those who took part in the discussion (Moors, 1978). For Socrates and Plato, dialogical communication was critical for both the development and dissemination of ideas and beliefs. Plato’s dialogs also underlined that ideas and beliefs are not communicated coldly because dialogic interaction is an “intensely personal undertaking” (Moors, 1978: 77).

Readers of Organization may agree that asking “what do you mean?” in organization studies has become the privilege of those who manage to establish a credible position by publishing their work in highly regarded journals. This involves internalizing the norms and conventions of these journals (Horn, 2017) and conforming to their formulaic rhetorical styles (Alvesson and Gabriel, 2013). Socialization into the rules of the game (Butler and Spoelstra, 2014) influences how we write (Harley, 2019) and how we review and evaluate others’ scholarly work (Macdonald, 2015). An example of an institutionalized rhetorical convention in academic texts is monologic communication (Helin, 2019; Lehman and Sułkowski, 2023; Meier and Wegener, 2017) that does not engage readers outside a narrow specialist audience (Alvesson, 2013). Asking “what do you mean?” has become a ritualistic convention dominated by privileged writers and gatekeeping editors and reviewers (Cunliffe, 2022). It is not an integral part of meaningful dialog between writers and readers.

By conforming to rhetorical norms and conventions writers participate in the self-fulfilling cycle of their acceptance and dissemination. Specific ideas of what can be written about and how are cemented (Boncori, 2022). This leads to the marginalization of other literary styles, for example, in how we are allowed to talk about theory and theorizing (Cunliffe, 2022). At the same time, there are systemic racialized and gendered biases in academia as to whose voices can and cannot be heard (Gabriel and Tate, 2017; Lund and Tienari, 2019; Mandalaki and Prasad, 2024). The Anglo-American hegemony (Üsdiken, 2014) and dominance of the English language in global academia (Boussebaa and Brown, 2017; Boussebaa and Tienari, 2021) are also receiving attention as sources of marginalization and exclusion. It is this linguistic and language-related aspect of inequality that we wish to address with a focus on scholarly writing.

In this Connexions essay, we argue that privileged forms of scholarly writing perpetuate inequalities in academia and that inequalities have a language-related dimension that is often forgotten. We call for linguistic sensitivity to challenge the systemic inequalities that condition our writing in English and discuss this by elaborating what relationally reflexive writing can mean in organization studies (cf., Cunliffe, 2022; Cunliffe and Karunanayake, 2013; Hibbert et al., 2014). We highlight the Polish and Finnish linguistic positions from which we, the two authors, speak to confront hegemonic rhetorical conventions in the English language. “What do you mean?” signifies for us the opening of ourselves as writers and engaging in dialog with each other and our readers about what is possible to say – and how – in scholarly writing.

In the following, we first share our ideas on why it is important to see linguistic norms and conventions of scholarly writing and inequalities in academia as interrelated. After specifying our understanding of writing as dialogical, we use Polish and Finnish traditions as examples to confront the hegemony of English in scholarly writing and to argue for greater linguistic sensitivity. We extend the discussion to relationally reflexive writing.

Toward meaningful dialogs

Critical organization scholars have highlighted how the pressure to get our work published in highly regarded journals influences our academic output and authorial identity (e.g. Butler and Spoelstra, 2014; Harley, 2019). The critique tends to target the outcomes of our writing (i.e. articles), and it is relatively silent about the activities in and around writing itself. A focus on the writing process is important, however, because monologic and reader-insensitive scholarly writing form a convention that precedes the contemporary publishing game (cf., Bazerman, 1988). It does not encourage the writer’s appreciation of the reader’s needs and expectations. Writers are expected to adopt a stance of authorial impersonality (Billig, 2013) and “fulfill ceremonial purposes of legitimation” (Alvesson et al., 2008: 498). In these conditions, most scholarly texts do not make the grade, dying on the editor’s desk or at the hands of reviewers. Many do so because they do not conform to the rhetorical standards reinforced and normalized by the journals that count in the rankings and indexes of academia (Tourish and Willmott, 2015).

However, writing has a dialogical aspect that too often remains unacknowledged. Preparing for dialog we as writers can work to identify who our reader is likely to be and to consider their needs, expectations, doubts, and fears. In so doing, we can approach writing as relational processes (Helin, 2019); as forms of communication that seek to resonate with the reader (Meier and Wegener, 2017) and as experiences saturated with embodiment and emotions (Boncori and Smith, 2019; Kiriakos and Tienari, 2018; Mandalaki and Pérezts, 2022). As writers, we can search for connections with our (potential) readers, although we can never fully foresee who they are and how they will experience our texts (Meier and Wegener, 2017). Dialogical writing is thus “a response to that which has been said and in anticipation of the next possible utterance” (Helin, 2019: 1).

As a critical journal, Organization is open to multiple and alternative forms of writing, encouraging women’s and feminist writing (Pullen, 2018) and writing from the “periphery” (Meriläinen et al., 2008), the “margins” (Ibarra-Colado, 2006), and the “colony” (Mir and Mir, 2013). In different degrees, these exemplify forms of scholarly writing that encourage dialog between writers and readers. However, it is noteworthy that all mainstream and critical journals that count in organization studies are published in English. While their editorial policies and practices vary, they reflect the scholarly writing conventions and rhetorical traditions of the English language.

The linguistic positions from which we speak

While there is critical debate about the hegemony of English language in academia, we focus the discussion on scholarly writing, which does not take place in a vacuum. We never write in isolation (Boncori, 2022). Writing entails both inner deliberation and consideration of external interlocutors (readers) in linguistic, socio-cultural, and disciplinarily determined rhetorical contexts. Writing “involves the personal and the experiential” and it is “intended to be read, pondered, and conversed with” (Kostera, 2022: 1). This requires writer agency, or our capacity to negotiate textual representations to meaningfully engage in dialog with our readers. However, such negotiation practices are not enacted by all writers in the same way. We have different linguistic positions from which we speak.

Anglo-American hegemony in our field is bolstered by the normalization of English language as the academic lingua franca (Curry and Lillis, 2018). This affects how we as users of English as an additional language see ourselves as scholars (Boussebaa and Brown, 2017; Cloutier, 2016). Hegemony of the English language – or the apparent “linguistic injustice” (Cargill and Burgess, 2017) – creates for us additional challenges, influencing our authorial identities. Eva Hoffman, a Polish writer who emigrated to the USA and was forced to learn English, describes the difficulties she experienced in expressing herself in the “new language,” due to losing the frame of reference from her life experiences. This led to words becoming mere referents with no conceptual meanings to connect them:

“The words I learn now don’t stand for things in the same unquestioned way they did in my native tongue. ‘River’ in Polish was a vital sound, energized with the essence of riverhood, of my rivers, of my being immersed in rivers. ‘River’ in English is cold – a word without aura. [. . .] It does not evoke” (Hoffman, 1989: 106).

The lack of a common frame of reference with Anglophone language (and “culture”) limits possibilities for those writing in English as an additional language to draw on their cultural resources to make their texts come alive. This is elucidated by Ulla Connor, a Finland-born applied linguist based in the USA and specializing in intercultural rhetoric. She documents testimonies of those using English as an additional language and points to the limitations English rhetorical conventions create to their authorial identities, for example:

“There are many good sources I could get from the Chinese culture while I write in Chinese: such as literary quotations, famous old stories and ancient word of wisdom. These rich resources definitely influence my paper quality in Chinese. Unfortunately, examples like this are very hard to translate into English” (Connor, 1996: 3).

Apart from challenges that are related to writing in English (Cho, 2004; Pudelko and Tenzer, 2019), carving out a position in the field means engaging in its politics of knowledge production (Boussebaa and Brown, 2017; Boussebaa and Tienari, 2021). This molds our identities as academics and as writers. For bilingual writers, participation in discussions is not only about aligning with the rhetorical requirements of an English-language discourse community, but a struggle to reconstruct the self (Lehman and Anderson, 2017). The first author of this essay is from Poland and the second author is from Finland. We testify to limitations on our possibilities to participate in discussions and to the trade-off in our authorial representations. Among other things, this entails suppressing certain first language (and first “culture”) rhetorical influences to align ourselves with norms and conventions established by English language journals.

The impact of culture and cognition on language and written discourse is examined in the field of contrastive rhetoric, known in its new incarnation as intercultural rhetoric. Seminal studies include Kaplan’s (1996) classification of thought patterns and Galtung’s (1985) typology of intellectual styles. Comparative analysis of Polish and English (Duszak, 1997; Golebiowski, 1998, 2005) and Finnish and English (Crismore et al., 1993; Mauranen, 1991) academic texts show how Polish and Finnish authors have tended to assume a reader-responsible orientation (as opposed to writer-responsible in English), which works on the principle that it is respectful toward the reader to allow them to demonstrate their intelligence by making sense of the text for themselves. Polish and Finnish academic writing was influenced by contact with German language and culture where writers were charged with the responsibility to provide readers with knowledge, theory, and stimuli to thinking conveyed in contemplative, narrative, and story-like language (cf., Čmejrková and Daneš, 1997).

Standards and styles that appear self-evident to Anglo-American scholars, then, may not necessarily be so for scholars in Poland. Rhetorical traditions in Polish academia have favored a branching rather than linear way to communicate a line of argumentation. Different levels of elaboration have been accepted and straying from the main line of argumentation was traditionally seen in Polish academia as evidence of an inquiring and learned mind (Duszak, 1997). This rhetorical convention has been reinforced by the belief that originality in style is a manifestation of the scholar’s intellectuality (Duszak, 1997; Golebiowski, 1998, 2005). Such writing has called on readers to apply inductive reasoning to interpret the meaning of the text.

As found in studies in contrastive rhetoric (e.g. Crismore et al., 1993; Mauranen, 1991), Finnish scholarly texts, too, have traditionally been organized inductively with the main point stated at the end. Finnish scholars have also tended to imply things rather than say them directly (Connor, 1996). The rhetorical style adopts a “facts speak for themselves” approach, leading to the avoidance of stating authorial claims “in too obvious [a] manner” (Lindeberg, 1988: 33; Mauranen, 1992). As with the Polish rhetorical style, Finnish scholars have charged readers with the responsibility to interpret the meaning of text, and this has been seen as a manifestation of respect toward them (Connor, 1996).

There are thus similarities in Polish and Finnish scholarly writing styles in contrast to English. Following the German tradition, established conventions of Polish and Finnish scientific discourse have required an inductive organization of argument (e.g. Crismore et al., 1993; Duszak, 1997; Golebiowski, 1998, 2005; Mauranen, 1991). This is illustrated in the quote below, translated from Polish by the first author:

The idea of forced parasitism, which is an implication of a one-track development and an excessive increase in both specific solutions and knowledge, impossible for a single person to comprehend, in a way equalizes all Europeans, because each of them, although to a different extent, is forced to use the alms of existing solutions, whether technical, intellectual or artistic, and everyone feels a deficit in satisfying their needs to some extent. The result is permanent dissatisfaction (Kosowska, 2021: 70).

In this text Polish cultural anthropologist Ewa Kosowska discusses Eurocentrism as a worldview. As an example of traditional Polish scholarly writing, the text is akin to a detective story where the reader finds the clue at the end. How the text organizes the argument implies the reader processing the text together with the writer.

Although traditionally both Polish and Finnish scholarly authors tend to write inductively and avoid patronizing the reader, there are differences in how this implicitness is textually realized. Implicitness of Polish scholarly texts is conveyed in writers’ restraint in presenting their knowledge claims, and the use of tentative and qualifying language (Duszak, 1997). In Finnish scholarly texts meta-discursive markers used to orient the reader have been scarce (Mauranen, 1991). Whether differences in scholarly writing traditions render texts more or less difficult to access, as one of the reviewers for this essay pondered, is clearly a question of familiarity. This familiarity grows with readers’ repeated exposure to cultural or disciplinary writing norms and conventions. However, these are susceptible to change (as can be witnessed in the present-day outputs in Polish and Finnish academia) as scholars are increasingly required to write and get published in English. Anglo-American influences are particularly visible in scholarly writing of Polish academics born after the mid-1970s (Damrosz, 2014). Finnish scholars have been exposed to these influences since the 1990s and 2000s (Aarrevaara et al., 2009; Kallio et al., 2016).

At the same time, disciplinary influences on scholarly writing include dominant schools of thought as well as preferred topics, methodological practices, and ways of writing. Hyland (2005) found that social scientists tend to produce texts that exclude the reader, while the more discursive “soft” disciplines, such as applied linguistics are more considerate toward readers. Billig (2013), too, laments how writers in social sciences are expected to adopt a stance of authorial impersonality and to use complicated language. The pressure to adopt the dominant rhetorical practices and, as one reviewer for this essay suggested, to mimic the writing style of “successful” scholars is clearly very strong. This pressure is intensified by journals in organization studies whose publishing policies follow dominant Anglo-American criteria. The hegemony of the English language leads to an underrepresentation of other rhetorical styles and ways of presenting arguments in scholarly texts.

With this essay, bearing in mind the norms and conventions of scholarly writing in English in journals such as Organization and considering the (assumed) expectations of our readers, we have sought to be sensitive to rhetorical styles, to confront hegemonic English language rhetorical conventions, and to demonstrate the value of linguistic sensitivity in scholarly writing. Next, we ask: how can linguistic sensitivity be relevant for critical discussions on research and writing in organization studies? We feel that relational reflexivity can offer a way forward here.

Linguistic sensitivity in relational reflexivity?

The reflexive dialogical writing process builds on how we as writers aim to present ourselves and our ideas to readers. We view the authorial self as a dynamic entity adaptable to the exigencies of the rhetorical context of text production and consumption. Reflexive understanding of scholarly writing, then, underlines how external structures impact, or potentially limit, our agency as writers. These include norms on what academic texts should look like and rhetorical conventions of the English language, as discussed above.

The idea of relational reflexivity rests on dialog, interpretation, and emotional involvement (cf., Cunliffe, 2022; Cunliffe and Karunanayake, 2013; Hibbert et al., 2014). Relational practice is concerned with social processes, practices, and relations between people (Hibbert et al., 2014). Combined with reflexivity, it enables researchers to question their relationships with others and “their limits and prejudices, their possible relationships to the situation they are in (their discipline, culture, and historical context), as well as the constitutive role of researcher-participant relationships” (Hibbert et al., 2014: 283). We extend the idea of relational reflexivity to include the researcher’s inner deliberations about how to communicate their work to the reader so that a satisfying experience is created for both the reader and the writer. We also consider how linguistic sensitivity can be woven into understandings of relational reflexivity.

Organizational research is often based on empirical studies from which we engage in theorizing in our scholarly writings. Doing empirical work, we find ourselves in-between opposing positions, or what Fine (1994) calls “working the hyphens.” Cunliffe and Karunanayake (2013) advise us to be reflexive about the multiple and fluid relations we establish in the spaces between the “hyphens.” This entails awareness of relations, expectations, and identities, and it means constant positioning of ourselves in relation to those we study, write about, and write for. As writers we do this by engaging in internal dialogs or inner deliberations through which we evoke reader responses and consider what and how we write to engage our readers. The external context of text production thus impacts upon and limits our agency as writers.

While relational reflexivity is typically discussed in relation to empirical work and developing theory, in terms of writing scholars point to how rhetorical norms and conventions, being predominantly monologic, remove the other half of the “hyphen” – the reader – from our texts. Among other things, writing reflexively means conscious inclusion of those who we traditionally cut out from our texts (cf., Cunliffe and Karunanayake, 2013). Other considerations, in terms of linguistic sensitivity, include norms on what academic texts should look like and rhetorical conventions of the English language. Relational reflexivity thus becomes a search where we mediate our agency as writers within potentially limiting social and linguistic structures.

This creates spaces where those who write in English as an additional language can reinvent their identity. Cunliffe and Karunanayake’s work on in-betweenness in scholarly endeavors guides us to reflect on how we interpret differences and similarities, focusing on “identity differences embedded in culture, ethnicity, religion, class, education, symbolism (dress, hairstyle, carrying a notebook, video recorder), and language” (2013: 375). In writing, literary skills necessary to engage the reader require developing the writer’s sensitivity to their audience’s (assumed) needs and expectations. The writer and the reader both play a role here, the former by framing reality, the latter by making interpretations that are confirmed, challenged, or resisted while reading.

We all rely on familiar contexts for reconciling new texts. Where these may be startling, Olga Tokarczuk, Nobel Laureate in Literature, advises readers to cherish “the bonds that connect us, the similarities and sameness between us” (2019: 24). To make this possible, the writer must seek to be in tune with their readers. Writers initiate a dialog but do not conclude it (Helin, 2019). In terms of linguistic sensitivity, this means that the differences we assume between ourselves as Polish and Finnish writers and our English-language audience (and its rhetorical norms and conventions) determine how we write. Striving to be in tune with such an audience can over time mean losing touch with our first language (and “culture”). Trying hard to be similar can make us lose a sense of differences that matter, that is the other half of the “hyphen.”

As writers we have agency and choice, and we create our authorial identities through the textual positionings we occupy. These reveal whether, and to what extent, we include or exclude the reader when we construct our arguments. However, relationally reflexive writing encourages writers to craft texts that draw readers into them intellectually and emotionally. Making the text emotionally appealing means that the writer not only presents a coherent line of argumentation but guides the reader to see what they wish them to see. In processes of socialization and internalizing hegemonic conventions of writing, however, writers may struggle with “how to locate themselves and their subjects in reflexive texts” (Denzin and Lincoln, 2000: 3). This is where linguistic sensitivity could take the form of learning from other rhetorical traditions than English, bearing in mind that as writers, we make decisions based on the extent to which we accommodate or resist the preferred and privileged rhetorical norms and conventions of the context in which we write. These yield prestige and enable us to realize our interests in participating in discussions (Curry and Lillis, 2018).

Conventions and norms sanctioned by the disciplinary community can, as we have seen, constrain our voices as writers. However, the fact that disciplinary writing occurs within a context with clearly demarcated rhetorical boundaries can provide an opportunity for the writer to challenge and negotiate these norms and conventions, thereby developing their individual writer voice. Written discourse is a form of social action and in crafting their texts, writers reaffirm or challenge hegemonic rhetorical conventions in the English language. This is where linguistic sensitivity becomes genuinely instructive for alternative and more inclusive forms of scholarly writing. Getting “politically” involved in the field can be extended to our writing and texts. And writing about complex and territorialized ideas in English rather than the original language(s) may not make sense in the first place (cf., Deslandes, 2022). Overall, juggling between conformity and individuality – demonstrating membership of a community while taking an individual stance – in adhering to writing norms and conventions is a continuous balancing act (Lehman et al., 2024).

To summarize, language use lies at the core of the dialectic of individual (related to human agency) and social (related to systems and structures) elements of research and writing. According to Lahire (2011), individuals deploy language (not least in the form of internal dialog) to exercise control over their conduct. When writing, we enter dialogs with others as well as ourselves. These offer us opportunities to refine, expand, delete, and add to our texts and to engage in conversation with (assumed) others. When we translate our internal dialogs into English, an additional language to us, we explicitly confront all these questions. To be appreciated, we rely on the linguistic sensitivity of our readers and on the dialogic relationship we form with them.

Linguistic sensitivity in crafting this essay

While we adhere to Grey and Sinclair’s observation that reflexivity in scholarly writing entails “recognizing and making explicit the relationship between the writer and what, how and why they write” (2006: 447), we extend this to who we write for: the reader evoked in the writer’s mind in each stage of crafting texts. As writers of this essay, we have conjured up a profile of our reader. This is someone who expects a rhetorical style typical for scholarly writing in English, but who is curious about how its norms and conventions can be challenged – and perhaps even agrees with us that scholarly writing in organization studies can be made more dialogical and inclusive.

It is not coincidental that we chose Organization with its tradition of critical inquiry and writing as a potential outlet for our essay. We suspected that many of its readers could connect our argument to their own critical thinking and find the focus on scholarly writing and language worthwhile. At the same time, we do not assume that there is some “real” self to be discovered and actualized as writers. For us, reflexivity builds on “a constantly changing sense of our selves within the context of the changing world” (Etherington, 2004: 30). Anticipating our readers’ needs and expectations shapes our text and us as writers. Our critique of the status quo in academia is not its writer-centeredness, then, but focused on practices of writing and the writer-reader relationship.

Our joint work in crafting this essay brings to the fore co-authoring as a practice that connects oral and written communication and offers an opportunity to engage in dialog before our writing is made available to others. We have tried to make our respective inner deliberations, conversations, and dialogs explicit for each other, and we have considered our linguistic positions as Polish and Finnish scholars. We have noted our similarities and differences in approaching writing and how these play into our assumptions about our readers. We have often asked each other the question: “What do you mean?” This has begged considered, reflexive responses. Linguistic sensitivity and relational reflexivity, then, are woven in crafting this text. We have tried to practice what Prasad (2013) calls ontological empathy, treating each other with respect and valuing each other’s scholarship holistically.

Awareness of the ways we and others organize and write about our worlds is relevant in academia. For a text to be accepted by gatekeepers such as reviewers and editors, the linguistic choices writers make must be aligned enough with norms and conventions held dear by the community that is the intended audience for our writing. We insist that these norms and conventions are not neutral. Cunliffe pointed to “disciplining practices and microaggressions of influential gatekeepers and reviewers who require authors to theorize and write in ways with which they are familiar” (2022: 2). While Cunliffe focused her sharp critical analysis on theory building, we extend it to scholarly writing and linguistic sensitivity. Relational reflexivity, we argue, can be open to more inclusive forms of dialogical and reader-considerate writing. We can be linguistically sensitive when we write and when we read others’ texts and review and edit them for journals. As Kostera (2022) argues, writing differently includes reading, reviewing, and editing differently.

Concluding remarks

In this Connexions essay, we have argued that privileged forms of scholarly writing contribute to inequalities in academia and that there is a linguistic dimension to this that is often overlooked in critical studies. Who gets to engage in discussions and how (and who does not and why) is a fundamentally important question. To challenge the status quo, we have confronted hegemonic rhetorical conventions in the English language and highlighted critical concerns over marginalization and exclusion in academia (Boussebaa and Brown, 2017; Boussebaa and Tienari, 2021).

We have advocated a move from monologs to dialogs in scholarly writing (Helin, 2019; Lehman et al., 2022) and elucidated that while dialogs exert both enabling and restricting influences on the authorial self, the present system is particularly challenging for those who use English as an additional language. We have argued for linguistic sensitivity in understanding scholarly writing and for discussing and developing relational reflexivity in doing and writing research in this light (Cunliffe, 2022; Cunliffe and Karunanayake, 2013; Hibbert et al., 2014). We are convinced that making scholarly writing more dialogical, linguistically sensitive, and inclusive helps our research become more meaningful for broader and more diverse audiences (Schrodt, 2020).

Our examples of Poland and Finland show language-related inequalities at play in scholarly writing. However, while both Poland and Finland were colonized over the years, they may not be the most powerful examples for readers of Organization. After all, the journal has an established tradition for challenging “Eurocentric” assumptions, theorizing, and writing (Mir and Mir, 2013). With reference to organization studies in Latin America, Ibarra-Colado lamented how “to be allowed in you must deny your own identity: to belong in ‘the international community’, you must speak the Center’s language, use its concepts, discuss its agendas” (2006: 471). This leads to a loss of local knowledge, Ibarra-Colado argued, not only in terms of linguistic knowledge (i.e. no longer using local languages to write and publish, and conforming to rhetorical conventions in the English language) but of epistemic knowledge to make sense of the world. There is thus much more at play than language when we write for scholarly audiences.

We have problematized how in academia, asking “what do you mean?” is the privilege of some, not all. In journal conventions that favor monologic writing, this crucial question loses its potential to engender inclusive discussions. While we are not arguing for a return to the dialogs of Socrates and Plato, opportunities to ask this question and engage in debates must be opened and the space for scholarly writing made more linguistically sensitive, reflexive, and inclusive. In addition to challenging the “Eurocentrism” (Mir and Mir, 2013) and Anglo-American “hegemony” (Meriläinen et al., 2008; üsdiken, 2014) in scholarly writing, many questions remain as academia is organized by social class and gender (Gilmore et al., 2019; Helin, 2019; Lund and Tienari, 2019; Pullen, 2018) as well as ethnicity and race (Gabriel and Tate, 2017; Mandalaki and Prasad, 2024). We hope that readers of Organization see value in continuing the conversation on scholarly writing and language.