You’ve revised your draft. You know who your readers are supposed to be. You’ve made the instability visible (you think). The costs are clear (you hope).
Now test it.
But not with someone sympathetic. Not with a friend who studies the same thing you do. Not with someone who already cares about your topic.
Give it to someone who will hate it.
Someone who thinks your field is irrelevant. Someone who doesn’t care about Berlin or the Middle East or whatever tension you’re writing about. Someone who has no reason to keep reading past the first paragraph.
Ask them: “Where did you stop caring? What sentence made you think ‘so what?'”
Their answer is a truth. Not a truth about whether your work is good. A truth about whether your instability actually creates costs for readers who don’t already care.
Because here’s the thing: the readers who already care will read your work no matter what. They’re not the test.
The test is the reader who has no reason to care. Can you make them care anyway?
That’s what costs and benefits are for.
Find that reader. Give them your draft. Listen to where they stop.
This session marked the first draft sharing for the course. Rather than traditional feedback, we focused on the gap between what writers think they’re communicating and what readers actually receive—particularly around instability, costs, and readers.
Opening Discussion: What Do You Want When You Share Writing? (10:15-10:40)
We began by asking students to reflect on what they actually want when they share unfinished writing.
Responses included:
“Tell me if it makes sense”
“Tell me what’s missing”
“Tell me it’s good”
“Tell me whether to keep going”
“Find the problems”
“Understand what I was trying to say”
“Tell me if anyone would care about this”
The key insight: These are completely different—and often incompatible—asks.
Some requests assume the idea is right and just needs clarity (“tell me if it makes sense”). Others question whether the whole project is worth doing (“tell me if anyone would care”). Some ask readers to decode the writer’s intentions (“understand what I was trying to say”) while others ask readers to challenge the work (“find the problems”).
The tension: Most writers want readers to validate what they’re trying to do while also telling them what’s wrong. But you can’t have both simultaneously.
The discussion surfaced:
Feedback that serves writer anxiety vs. feedback that serves the writing
Feedback about what you meant vs. what readers received
Feedback that assumes your frame is right vs. questions the frame
The reframe for draft sharing:
Readers should NOT try to understand what the writer meant. Instead, readers report what they actually received.
Not “I think you’re trying to say X”—but “Here’s what I understood.”
Not “This is good/needs work”—but “Here’s where I saw instability” and “Here’s where I didn’t see why I should care.”
The writer’s job: Listen to the gap between intention and reception.
Pair Reading: Mark What You Receive (10:40-11:20)
Students paired up with someone whose topic was different from theirs.
Phase 1: Silent Reading (20 minutes total, 10 per draft)
One person reads the other’s draft in silence, marking three things:
✓ Where you see the instability (what doesn’t fit, what contradicts)
$ Where you see costs/benefits (why this matters to readers, not to the writer)
? Where you can identify who the readers are (who cares about this?)
If the reader reaches the end without marking all three, that’s important information.
Phase 2: Report What You Received (20 minutes total, 10 per draft)
The reader reports back—but with strict constraints: Only report what you marked. Don’t interpret. Don’t suggest fixes.
Examples:
“I saw instability here where you said X contradicted Y”
“I didn’t see costs until page 3, and even then I wasn’t sure if they were costs to me or to you”
“I couldn’t tell who I was supposed to be as a reader”
The writer’s job: Listen. Don’t explain. Don’t defend. Just hear the gap.
This phase made visible the often-significant distance between what writers thought they communicated (instability, costs, specific readers) and what readers actually received (confusion, vagueness, unclear stakes).
Small Group Pressure Test (11:20-11:40)
Groups of 3-4 (mixed topics) took turns reading their openings aloud (first 1-2 pages).
The group’s role: Be the skeptical reader. Push on everything.
Questions:
“Where’s the instability? I don’t see what doesn’t fit.”
“So what? Why does that matter to me as a reader?”
“Who am I supposed to be? What community cares about this?”
“Is this a gap (we don’t know X) or a problem (not knowing X costs us Y)?”
“At what sentence would I stop reading? Why?”
This phase pushed beyond politeness. Students practiced being honest readers—the kind who are busy, skeptical, and will stop reading if they don’t immediately see value.
What emerged:
Many drafts described interesting observations but didn’t establish instability
Costs were often implied rather than explicit
Readers were frequently unnamed or too generic (“people interested in Berlin”)
The gap problem vs. the gap itself remained unclear in many drafts
Assignment for December 3
You’ve now tested your draft with multiple readers. You know where the gaps are—between what you thought you were communicating and what readers actually received.
Revise your 3-4 pages based on what you learned today.
Your goal:
Make the instability visible in the first two paragraphs
Show costs that readers bear (not you)
Make clear who your readers are (even if implicitly)
The test: Between now and next session, give your revised draft to someone outside this class—a friend, a colleague, anyone. Ask them: “Where would you stop reading and why?”
If they stop before they see the instability and why it matters, keep revising.
Bring the revised draft printed on December 3. We’ll go deeper into how instabilities actually work and how to construct them effectively.
Key Takeaways
Intention ≠ Reception: What you think you’re communicating and what readers receive are often very different.
The gap is the learning: The distance between what you meant and what readers understood shows you what needs work.
Readers report, don’t interpret: The most useful feedback describes what was received, not what the writer “really meant.”
Instability must be unmissable: If readers have to work to find your tension, it’s not clear enough.
Costs must be explicit: Implied stakes don’t work. Readers need to know specifically what they lose if this stays unresolved.
Generic readers = no readers: “People interested in X” isn’t specific enough. Name the actual community.
Skeptical readers are generous readers: Honest pushback helps more than polite validation.
Today’s session focused on a crucial shift in thinking about academic writing: moving from explaining what we know to creating problems that readers care about solving.
Opening Discussion: What IS the Function of Academic Writing?
We began by asking students what they think the function of academic writing is. The whiteboard captured a rich range of responses:
Students suggested academic writing functions:
To think
To express clearly
To present “objective” research
To prove/select ideas
To share new info/data
To open perspectives
To convince people
To add to conversation
To archive (what is wanted to be known)
For career/prestige/credibility
To show expertise
As control (of people)
To make money
To fill gaps
To entertain?
Bigger questions that emerged:
Is academia isolated from society?
What does academic writing matter to?
Individuals?
Institutions?
“The field”?
Why write at all?
Key tension identified: The difference between:
Writer’s purpose: to think about something (uses text as thinking tool)
Reader’s purpose: to learn about/understand something (uses text as learning tool)
This gave way to the core insight from Larry McEnerny’s writing programme at the University of Chicago: The function of academic writing is to help readers understand better something they want to understand well.
That’s only one way to look at it, of course 😉
Here’s a session with Larry McEnerny; you’ll see I cite him alot:
Key Examples Analysed
Example 1: The Clonal/Sexual Co-existence Problem
We looked at two versions of the same academic opening to see which created more value:
Version 1a (flat?):
As a consequence of the “cost of sex,” the theoretical probability of clonal and sexual co-existence is low; observation of co-existence in vertebrate taxa has been reported. Within the frozen niche-variation (FNV) model, the relevant parameter is difference in overall niche breadth. A wider niche breadth for the sexuals than for the clones is predicted in performance in monocultures; performances in mixtures do not indicate such a relationship. Switching of behaviors or resource-use patterns between mixed and pure cultures may be the cause. The proposed study will examine this prediction of the FNV model.
Version 1b (creates problem?):
As a consequence of the “cost of sex,” the theoretical probability of clonal and sexual co-existence is low. Nonetheless, observation of co-existence in vertebrate taxa has been widely reported. Within the accepted model of frozen niche-variation (FNV), co-existence is explained by difference in overall niche breadth. However, although the FNV model correctly predicts wider niche breadth for the sexuals than for the clones, its predictions are inconsistent with reported performances in mixtures. The proposed study will examine whether the anomaly may be explained by the switching of behaviors or resource-use patterns between mixed and pure cultures.
Creates tension between what we expect and what we observe
Shows that current models don’t fully explain the phenomenon
Example 2: William Sewell on Historical Events
We didn’t analyse this one during the session, but I think it’s a brilliant example of how to create a problem that looks like background but actually destabilises existing knowledge:
Ever since Herodotus, historians have written about events. Battles, alliances, scandals, conquests, conspiracies, revolts, royal successions, reforms, elections, religious revivals, assassinations, discoveries: momentous events have always been the bread and butter of narrative history. But despite the prominence of events in historical narratives, the event has rarely been scrutinized as a theoretical category. Traditional narrative historians who reveled in the contingency and particularity of events generally refused on principles to engage in explicit theorizing. Meanwhile, historical sociologists, along with the minority of historians who turned to the social sciences in order to escape the hegemony of political narrative, generally disdained the study of mere events and sought instead to discover general causal patterns underlying historical change. This was true of the “Annales school” in France from the late 1920s forward and of the ‘new social history” that blossomed in the United States in the 1960s and 1970s. By the 1980s the old antagonisms between narrative history and historical sociology had begun to fade; yet theoretical work on historical events has remained relatively rare…
What’s happening here:
Looks like historical background
But actually creates instability: “despite the prominence… rarely scrutinized”
Shows cost: historians can’t adequately theorize major turning points
Identifies specific readers: historical sociologists
Example 3: The Erasmus Chronology Problem
It is a perennial paradox of Erasmus studies that neither the wealth of autobiographical information that the Dutch humanist has left us nor the enormous mass of scholarly literature that has grown up around his life and works has ever given us a firm grip on the year of his birth and the chronology of his youth. We do not know with certainty, for example, how old Erasmus was when he entered Steyn monastery…
Key move: The instability is already recognised by the community (“perennial paradox”), so the writer just reminds readers of it.
Example 4: Caribbean Foreign Policy
What is missing [in the study of the international relations of the Caribbean] are the same things that are missing in the study of Third World or Latin American foreign policy and international relations as a whole: Most of what is written is country-specific or issue-specific rather than general and comprehensive; most is descriptive rather than theoretical. The challenge is to put together what we know into a plausible whole, within a suitable theoretical framework, as a first step in developing theory…
But readers may well ask: Why is it important to… to study Third World policy with some rigor… Is it of any great significance…? Apart from the obvious value of supplying knowledge to those who want it, the study of Third World foreign policy should assist in the building and refining of international relations “middle-range” theory. The sub-field of international relations that is most clearly linked to such study is that of comparative foreign policy… Also of relevance is the field of decision-making…the realm of process…
What’s happening:
Identifies gap/instability
Anticipates reader skepticism: “But readers may well ask…”
Has to work harder to show costs/benefits because it’s a gap problem
Names specific theoretical benefits to specific sub-fields
Example 5: The Book of Amos – De-stabilizing Stasis
In recent years several attempts have been made to discover an overall structural pattern in the book of Amos. Certainly inspired by the burgeoning interest in “literary approaches” to the Bible, these studies have divided Amos into a relatively small number of extended sections, each of which (it is claimed) has a high degree of literary integrity. A comparison of these studies, however, soon reveals considerable diversity among them. Thus, to look no further than the authors mentioned in footnote 1, the following divergent analyses of chaps. 3-6 have been proposed:
The only points these scholars are all agreed on are that 5:1 begins a new section (although I shall argue below that in fact it does not) and that 6:14 closes a section (which has long been recognized by all commentators).
The main reason for this diversity, in my view, is that insufficient attention has been given to the criteria for making such analyses. In particular: (i) Formal criteria, such as introductory and closing formulas, have been given much greater prominence than they merit. (ii) Literary criteria, such as palistrophic structuring and inclusos, have often been employed too loosely and impressionistically.
In the present article, I shall offer a new analysis which, through giving particular attention to thematic considerations, will argue that Amos consists of a…
What’s happening here:
Sets up what looks like stable knowledge: “several attempts have been made”
Then de-stabilises it: “however, soon reveals considerable diversity”
Shows the cost: scholars can’t agree because their methods are flawed
This is a stasis → de-stabilising move rather than just pointing to an existing instability
The Three Components of a Problem
1. INSTABILITY
Something doesn’t fit
Something contradicts something else
Something is inconsistent
Signal words: however, although, nonetheless, but, paradox, anomaly, inconsistent, reported, widely accepted
2. COSTS/BENEFITS (to readers)
What can’t we understand if we leave this unstable?
What would we gain by resolving it?
NOT “I won’t finish my degree”
NOT “I find this interesting”
But: “This prevents us from understanding X that the community cares about”
3. READERS
Specific communities
Who cares about this?
Whose understanding needs to be better?
Gap vs. Problem: The Crucial Difference
Gap thinking: “No one has written about Syrian grocery stores in Neukölln.” → SO WHAT? There are infinite things we haven’t written about.
Problem thinking: “We think we understand how diaspora communities maintain identity through food practices, but the Syrian groceries in Neukölln challenge this model because…” → NOW you’re showing that the gap has consequences for something readers care about.
Gap = “here’s something we don’t know”Problem = “here’s why not knowing hurts our understanding of something we care about”
Work to Do During the Next Week (November 6-18)
Since we won’t meet next week, use this time for two activities:
Activity 1: Find the Problem Language
Take 2-3 published articles related to your field or topic. Read just the introductions and:
Circle the instability words: however, although, nonetheless, inconsistent, paradox, anomaly, reported, widely accepted
Locate where costs/benefits are articulated
Identify who the readers are
Notice the patterns. What language does your field use to create problems?
Also notice that maybe many academic papers do not use problem language at all – and maybe that’s a problem 😉
Activity 2: Test Your Own Tension
Write responses to these three questions about your Berlin tension:
Instability: What exactly doesn’t fit in your tension? (Use instability language: however, although, but…)
Costs: What can’t we understand if we leave this unresolved? (What intellectual cost does the COMMUNITY bear – not you personally?)
Readers: Who are three specific people/groups who would care about resolving this tension? Why would they care?
If possible, share your answers with a fellow students and test whether your costs actually land with readers. Does someone else see why this matters?
A note: You might discover as you do this that the topic you want to write about is actually more about what you’re interested in, or what you want to use to demonstrate your knowledge, qualifications, or expertise. That’s completely okay. That’s how most of us have been trained in academia, and we can do this well.
But in this course, I’m asking you to try something different: to experiment with reader-centered writing. To see what happens when you start from what readers need to understand rather than what you want to show them you know. It’s a different muscle, and it takes practice. This course is the space to try it.
Then: Write your 3-4 page draft (see full assignment details above)
Assignment for November 19th
Write a 3-4 page draft
NOT necessarily the beginning of your paper. Instead:
Pick one moment from your walking where your tension became visible. A specific place, observation, encounter, reading, source etc. that made the tension real.
Write 3-4 pages describing that moment and exploring what made it a problem of understanding – not just something you noticed, but something that created instability in how we think we understand Berlin or/and the Middle East // the Middle East in Berlin.
As you write, keep asking:
What doesn’t fit here?
Why should readers care that it doesn’t fit?
What can’t we understand properly if we leave this tension unresolved?
Don’t worry about:
Perfect structure
Citations yet
Whether this is “academic enough”
Starting at the beginning
DO worry about:
Making the instability visible
Showing why it matters
Writing toward specific readers (even if you’re not sure who they are yet)
Bring this draft in a format that you can share with fellow students on November 19th.
Looking Ahead to November 19th
Next session focus: Who are you writing for, and can they see why this matters?
We’ll work in pairs or groups or alone to:
Identify who your specific readers are
Test whether your instability creates costs they actually care about
Practice addressing instabilities that help readers understand something better
The question we’ll be asking: Does your writing fulfill its function of helping specific readers understand better something they want to understand well?
Key Takeaways
Function over form: Academic writing’s job is to help readers understand better, not to explain what you know.
Problems, not gaps: Don’t just identify what we don’t know. Show why not knowing matters.
Instability language matters: Words like “however,” “although,” “inconsistent” signal to readers that there’s a problem worth solving.
Costs must be to readers, not writers: “I need to graduate” is not a reason for readers to care. “We can’t adequately theorise X” might be.
Background creates stability, problems need instability: Don’t start with what we all agree on. Start with what doesn’t work.
Provide written feedback on a peer’s draft introduction by Thursday 23.11.2023 6 PM, focusing on strengths/weaknesses in establishing value. You can do this by commenting on introductions that have been shared on the blog in the post of the task for session #6.
writing seminar, commentary on session #5: challenging assumptions
I. Introduction: Setting the Table for Thought
Welcome, dear reader, to our table of inquiry. Here, we don’t just sip on our coffees; we also drink from the fountain of questioning. Our topic today is as stimulating as a double espresso – challenging assumptions in academic writing. Why, you ask? Because, as we’ve all experienced, a text that merely skates on the surface of established ideas is as engaging as a bland diet of unsalted crackers.
II. The Essence of Academic Inquiry: Why We Challenge Assumptions
In the realm of academic writing, challenging assumptions is not just a fancy exercise. It’s a vital heartbeat. Imagine a world where Galileo never questioned the geocentric model, or if Rosalind Franklin accepted DNA as a simple, straightforward molecule. Boring, right? Academic writing thrives on destabilizing the status quo, akin to adding a twist to a well-known tale, making it intriguing and worth exploring.
III. The Problem with Problems: Beyond the Gap Theory
Traditionally, academic texts focus on filling ‘gaps’. But let’s be honest, not every gap needs filling. Some are as inconsequential as a missing sock. Instead, we should focus on ‘instabilities’ – those tantalizing spots where something is amiss, incomplete, or just plain odd. These are not just gaps; they are the seeds of intellectual curiosity.
IV. The Dance of Destabilization: Techniques in Disguise
How do we introduce these instabilities? It’s a delicate dance. One method is by presenting counterintuitive data – imagine revealing that the villain in a story is actually the hero, jolting the reader’s preconceived notions. Or, by contrasting established views with emerging perspectives, akin to showing that the quiet character in the corner has the most profound insights. And let’s not forget the power of questioning norms, the equivalent of asking why the emperor is, indeed, not wearing any clothes.
V. The Balance of Respectful Challenge
Now, challenging assumptions is not about steamrolling over established beliefs with the arrogance of a know-it-all. It’s about inviting the reader on an enlightening journey. It’s the difference between a teacher who throws facts in your face and one who guides you to the discovery. The key? Back your challenges with evidence, acknowledge different perspectives, and aim to enlighten, not belittle.
VI. Engaging the Reader: The Art of Intellectual Seduction
The ultimate goal is to engage the reader. You don’t want your reader nodding off; you want them on the edge of their seat, eagerly turning the page. This requires a mix of clarity, metaphoric creativity, and an invitation to self-reflection. It’s like being a magician who doesn’t just perform tricks but encourages the audience to ponder the mysteries of the universe.
VII. Conclusion: The Joy of Intellectual Unrest
In conclusion, challenging assumptions in academic writing is not just about being contrarian. It’s about sparking curiosity, pushing boundaries, and engaging in a deeper exploration of ideas. It’s a celebration of intellectual unrest, a testament to the human spirit’s unending quest for understanding. So, as you return to your writing, remember: the best academic texts don’t just inform; they provoke thought, inspire change, and, above all, awaken the mind.
This essay is an ode to the art of challenging assumptions. It’s an invitation to join the ranks of thinkers who aren’t afraid to ask, “What if?” and “Why not?” Let’s continue to unsettle minds, including our own, for it is in this intellectual upheaval that true learning and understanding are born.
Academic discourse often touts “objectivity” yet reproduces stale narratives that bolster status quos and power. But when dealing with topics like the Middle East, we must move beyond “generic truisms” that reinforce simplistic binaries and static notions about the region, and shake up entrenched assumptions that flatten complex realities into simplistic binaries: West/East, colonizer/colonized, modern/traditional.
Rather than filling “gaps”, we could ask “what if?” questions that jolt static mindsets. What if we viewed women’s rights through diverse local lenses rather than monolithic religious ones? How might our conceptions of “civil society” change if we trace the term’s contextual origins?
We can present contradictory evidence that adds nuance to notions of fixed identity. While Islam is incredibly diverse, it is often portrayed as a singular culture. And seemingly “static” villages contain internal debates on social change.
Dominant narratives rarely emerge from those marginalized. We need situated perspectives: platforming Middle Eastern women’s scholarship to counter Western paternalism. And applying a power analysis to knowledge production itself—how funding and institutions perpetuate status quos.
This work of unsettling stable truths swims against academic conventions. But carving out unstable spaces where new modes of thought take root is vital for grappling with multifaceted realities. Although unsettling, the cracks where light seeps in reveal possibilities for connection across difference.
Draft 1–2 paragraphs presenting the central problem your paper will address, using language of instability, costs, and benefits by Thursday 9.11.2023 6 PM.
Do not submit this draft; the deadline is intended to keep you on track. It will help to have the draft ready for session #5 on November 16.
Feel free to discuss the matters of problem crafting, instabilities, costs and benefits, gaps in the blog.
We can all benefit from reviewing each other’s topics, paragraphs, feedback.