By Riyad A. Shahjahan
As I have recently blogged, there is a plethora of advice on empirical work writing, but not as much about conceptual and theoretical scholarship. In this blog post, I reflect on the lessons learned from writing a conceptual piece about the nation-state ontology in internationalization — a paper I now refer to as the “velcro” paper.
The process of writing this ‘velcro’ paper involved more than just presenting a coherent argument; it was a journey through a series of questions, challenges, conceptual struggles, and rejections, across a four year time span.
In this post, I distill four key lessons I learned from writing the conceptual paper, offering guidance for anyone struggling to navigate the complex terrain of theoretical scholarship in higher education.
Embrace the initial ambiguity and let the idea evolve
The seeds for this paper were planted by two pivotal moments. The first was an invitation to contribute to a critical internationalization master class. I was asked to deliver a virtual lecture on a topic I had been actively grappling with in the field of internationalization. The invitation was open-ended, offering space to explore questions that felt urgent and unresolved.
At the same time, I was engaging deeply with Sara Ahmed’s On Being Included, a book that powerfully critiques the language of “diversity” in higher education. Ahmed interrogates how the term is used, what it claims to represent, and the work it performs in institutional settings.
Her analysis sparked a similar line of inquiry for me around the word international:
Where does it come from?
What assumptions does it carry?
How is it mobilized by different stakeholders?
I began to reflect on how terms like “international” and “internationalization” do more than shape policy and practice — they also carry affective and political weight, influencing how people feel, who is included or excluded, and how belonging is constructed in academic spaces.
But my idea didn’t start with a clear thesis or fully formed argument. It began with curiosity — a vague but persistent instinct that something important was buried in the everyday language of global higher education. The master class gave me the opportunity to dwell in that uncertainty, to follow the questions wherever they led.
I had no conceptual framework at the outset. That emerged gradually, as I delved into genealogies, affect theory, and the notion of “imagined communities.” The argument came later. What I learned is that:
It’s okay —even necessary— to begin in ambiguity. Let your questions lead the way. Be open to not knowing. Over time, ideas will take shape.
Develop coherence by building structure slowly
My initial reflections on the terms used in ‘internationalization’ soon grew into a more expansive exploration of the nation-state’s assumptions in global higher education. The problem was, these various ideas — from historical genealogies to affect theory — needed something to hold them together.
After the master class, writing the conference proposal for the Society for Research into Higher Education (SRHE) forced me to confront this challenge head-on. It made me clarify my ideas and understand my audience’s potential interest in these arguments. The process of developing a proposal helped me organize my fragmented thoughts into a coherent framework, a critical step in making sure my paper would resonate with others in the field.
For anyone writing conceptual pieces, be prepared for the structure to unfold gradually, and don’t shy away from tools like conference proposals to refine your thinking.
Engage deeply with the most relevant existing literature
After drafting the paper, I shared it with several graduate students for feedback, which gave me a lot to think about. I also presented the paper at the European Conference on Educational Research (ECER). Encouraged by their responses, I submitted it to a journal—only to have it swiftly rejected.
The reviewers acknowledged that my critique of internationalization was compelling, but pointed out that the paper lacked sufficient engagement with the existing internationalization literature, nor the new concept I was trying to introduce (nation-state “world-sense”) was clear. They also noted that I had missed opportunities to deepen the analysis.
In hindsight, I realized my paper lacked depth because I hadn’t fully engaged with the rich, well-established literature on internationalization. I set out to interrogate how the nation-state remains a dominant framework in higher education, using “internationalization” as a case study, but I overlooked key debates that limited the reach of my argument.
It’s easy to assume we’re offering something new just by highlighting familiar critiques — but that’s not enough. My initial paper had strong ideas, but without clearly situating them within existing frameworks, they didn’t land. I thought I understood the broader discourse, only to realize I had stepped into a far more specific and developed debate. To contribute meaningfully, I needed to engage more intentionally with that literature and clarify how my argument built on and extended it.
Iterative revision is key to conceptual clarity
Despite the revisions I made, the paper was rejected again—this time with feedback that the reviewers were unclear about my approach. This experience highlighted one of the ongoing challenges of writing conceptual work: there are relatively few reviewers who are comfortable evaluating it, as many are more familiar with empirically driven research.
As a result, as conceptual writers we often need to do a lot of extra work to clearly foreground our approach and explain how our arguments are being built. Even though I had attempted to do this, it still wasn’t enough in this case, and the paper was rejected once more.
One of the most important lessons I learned came through the repeated rejection and feedback I received from journals. Each round of feedback forced me to rethink the purpose of my work. The reviewers pointed out weaknesses such as inconsistent terminology, unclear conceptual framing and/or mixing conceptual work with empirical examples.
After submitting to a third journal, it became clear that I needed to reframe the paper as a conceptual analysis rather than a combination of empirical data and theory. Furthermore, I hadn’t fully articulated the distinction between using the nation-state as the primary grammar for understanding internationalization versus simply seeing it as the driver of these processes.
This process of rethinking and reworking the paper based on feedback made it clearer and more theoretically grounded. The key takeaway here is that writing a conceptual piece is an iterative process. Be open to critique, refine your arguments, and use each revision as an opportunity to clarify and strengthen your conceptual framework.
Conclusion: Stick with it, even when it feels like a struggle
Writing conceptual pieces can be challenging, but the journey of refining an argument, clarifying concepts, and engaging with existing literature ultimately leads to a stronger and more meaningful contribution. The evolution of my “velcro” paper, from its initial idea to final submission, was filled with setbacks and revisions.
If you’re a graduate student or early-career scholar struggling to write theoretical work, know that ambiguity and rejection are part of the process. They are not signs that you’re failing. Conceptual writing can feel messy and uncertain, especially when you find yourself stepping into established debates without realizing it. It’s hard work, and it often takes longer. There’s no magic bullet.
Embrace the ambiguity, take your time building structure, engage deeply with the literature, and don’t be afraid to revise again and again. If you’re on a similar path in conceptual writing, these steps aren’t just helpful; they’re essential.
Stick with the process, let your ideas evolve, and trust that, even in the uncertainty, your work can grow into something clear, meaningful, and impactful.
Photo by Marita Kavelashvili on Unsplash