In his 2016 articles (Hyland, Reference Hyland2016a, Reference Hyland2016b), Ken Hyland makes a case for what he terms the ‘myth of linguistic injustice’, calling into question the assumption that ‘non-native’ users of English are at a linguistic disadvantage compared with their ‘native’ counterparts when writing for publication. In response, Flowerdew (Reference Flowerdew2019) argues that Hyland is mistaken in categorically dismissing the extra challenges inherent in academic writing in an additional language, suggesting that while all academic writers may face a common set of challenges, ‘EAL [English as additional language] writers have an additional set of linguistic challenges, which do not apply (to such an extent) to L1 writers’ (p. 257). Here, we aim primarily to respond to Flowerdew yet, as his ideas are intrinsically intertwined with Hyland's initial claims, our article is unavoidably and necessarily a response to both writers and an attempt to contribute to the ongoing and wider discussion of native-speakerism and notions of speakerhood based on our own professional and personal experiences.

The writers of this article currently both teach academic writing at a liberal arts university in Tokyo, Japan. Peter has training in Teaching English to speakers of other languages (TESOL) and has taught in a range of English as a foreign language (EFL) and English as a second language (ESL) contexts in countries including Spain, France, Ireland, Australia, and the UK. Emily comes from a composition and rhetoric background and has taught first-year writing in Bangladesh, Lebanon, and the US. Despite our different disciplinary backgrounds, we noticed parallels and resonances across our experiences and perspectives when discussing the two articles in question. We share some of our dialogue here, hoping to illustrate the potential for collaborative, productive discourse that can occur across disciplinary lines.

While we largely agree with Flowerdew's claims that writing in academic English must be more challenging for anyone who learns the language in addition to their L1, we are also hesitant to align our response within the scope and terms of discussion set up by Hyland and Flowerdew. The ongoing debate presented by these two articles, of whether speakerhood influences the difficulty one experiences in academic writing, rests on an assumption of a straightforward ‘native’ and ‘non-native’ divide. Our experience tells us it is simplistic to categorize users of a global language such as English using such a binary, and that attempting to do so can actually be harmful to many language users. Due to the problematic nature of describing people as ‘native’ or ‘non-native’, we have decided to follow Dewaele (Reference Dewaele2017) in instead referring to ‘L1 users’ and ‘LX users’. These terms are ‘value-neutral’, do not connote superiority or inferiority, and accept that a variation can exist in the proficiency within each group of users (Dewaele, Reference Dewaele2017). By using these terms, we hope to avoid reifying the binary we wish to challenge.

As language learners, we have both experienced the greater linguistic, emotional, and cognitive demands associated with attempting to communicate effectively in an additional language. We therefore agree with Flowerdew (Reference Flowerdew2019) that it is ‘important not to downplay the linguistic challenge facing ESL writers’ (p. 254). In our experience, carrying out academic tasks such as having seminar discussions, giving presentations, and writing essays in these additional languages were always more time-consuming, more mentally taxing, and more stressful than doing so in English. These humbling memories of frustration, struggle, and anxiety associated with language learning have given us a deeper appreciation for the labor of LX students in the academic writing courses we teach and lead us to align with Flowerdew's (Reference Flowerdew2019) assertion that writing in an additional language is often more difficult than in one's first language, even after many years of training and experience.

Furthermore, although some of the struggles of our own (predominantly Japanese) students of academic writing may be shared by similarly aged students who have gone through an English-medium school system, our students face numerous additional challenges due to the vast differences in writing conventions used in Japanese and in English. By way of example, while English paragraphs follow relatively strict principles regarding structure, topic development, and cohesiveness, the same rules do not apply to Japanese danraku, which can be as short as one or two sentences and often only function as a way of breaking up a text than as a method for structuring written work (Kimura & Kondo, Reference Kimura and Kondo2004). The flexibility of danraku also means they do not require a clear topic sentence or supporting sentences and that they allow for the inclusion of multiple main ideas within one danraku (Kimura & Kondo, Reference Kimura and Kondo2004). We therefore agree with Flowerdew (Reference Flowerdew2019) that LX writers are likely to encounter added burdens due to learning new rhetorical conventions and cultural styles and disagree with Hyland's (Reference Hyland2016a) suggestions that the acquisition of new skills required for academic English are equally challenging for all novice authors regardless of speakerhood.

We also took issue with Hyland's (Reference Hyland2016a) suggestions that the assumption of LX writer disadvantage contributes to the ‘marginalization’ of difficulties encountered by L1 writers. Having worked closely with L1 students and colleagues, we are acutely aware that academic writing is challenging for them as well. We are concerned by the implications, however, of how Hyland's line of reasoning appears to deny L1 writer privilege. (Hyland (Reference Hyland2016b) himself contends that, despite being a ‘relatively successful academic’, he does not hold a position of privilege in the publishing world as he regularly spends ‘8 hours on a Sunday writing two paragraphs’ (p. 10)). Acknowledging linguistic challenges faced by LX writers need not mean that L1 writers have it easy or that we cannot also attend to the needs of L1 writers. Rather, as Flowerdew (Reference Flowerdew2019) points out, recognizing linguistic challenges of LX writers is a crucial step toward creating effective support systems in academia for groups that are often already marginalized (p. 256).

Although we acknowledge the additional challenges that many LX writers face, from our experience in various higher education contexts working alongside teachers of a wide array of cultural, educational, and language backgrounds, we both feel strongly that there is too much diversity within these people for the labels of ‘native’ and ‘non-native’ to be meaningful. We do not believe it possible to totalize the linguistic ability of writers based on such reductive categories and vague notions of speakerhood. Emily's bilingual upbringing learning English and Japanese in Japan makes it difficult for her to identify as either. We therefore challenge the assumed stability of speakerhood labels evident in both Hyland (Reference Hyland2016a) and Flowerdew (Reference Flowerdew2019) and call into question the legitimacy of the terms of discussion at hand. Indeed, it is telling that neither Flowerdew (Reference Flowerdew2019) or Hyland (Reference Hyland2016a, Reference Hyland2016b) attempt to define what they mean by the terms ‘native’, ‘non-native’ or EAL user, relying instead on their readers’ individual understanding.

The concept of speakerhood, rather than indicating linguistic competencies of an individual, is an ideological construction that sows division and encourages ‘Othering’ (Holliday, Reference Holliday2006), and that perpetuates subjective biases and stereotypes based on non-linguistic factors such as race, ethnicity, nationality, or accent to classify individuals (Lowe, Reference Lowe2020). The ‘native’ and ‘non-native’ binarization can be understood as part of the monolingual paradigm that emerged in late eighteenth-century Europe, according to which ‘individuals and social formations are imagined to possess one ‘true’ language only, their ‘mother tongue,’ and through this possession to be organically linked to an exclusive, clearly demarcated ethnicity, culture, and nation’ (Yildiz, Reference Yildiz2012, p. 2). Although the ‘native’ and ‘non-native’ categories cannot capture the diverse linguistic realities of writers around the world and can be challenged theoretically, as a residual language ideology monolingualism continues to disproportionately harm LX users and privilege L1 users in society, as people and their language practices continue to be judged based on proximity to native-speaker norms and standardized English (see Watson & Shapiro, Reference Watson and Shapiro2018).

For example, we have observed the ubiquity of native-speaker idealism in our profession, such as the casual references to native-speaker norms being shared in teachers’ rooms; the goals regularly cited by students to ‘understand native speakers’ or to ‘sound like a native speaker’; the academic publications with guidelines for ‘non-native writers’ to have a ‘native speaker’ proofread their work (see McKinley & Rose, Reference McKinley and Rose2018); and the advertising campaigns run by eikaiwa (English conversation schools) in Japan that promote ‘authentic’ English taught by ‘native speakers’ (see also Bailey, Reference Bailey2006). Beyond the language teaching industry, college composition in the US has been heavily shaped by a language policy of unidirectional monolingualism that reifies categories of foreign vs. native and places writers as progressing linearly toward idealized proper usage language competencies (Horner & Trimbur, Reference Horner and Trimbur2002). Importantly, we have also observed that native-speaker norms can be upheld by LX individuals—thus, speakerhood status does not necessarily predict one's dispositions toward language difference or potential complicity in gatekeeping practices.

One of the effects we have observed of the ‘native’ and ‘non-native’ binary is that it can have detrimental effects on LX writers’ confidence and sense of scholarly identity, which is especially concerning as we believe confidence often plays a major role in becoming a successful academic writer. For Peter, this was certainly true in his first forays into writing for publication, despite his lack of experience of academic writing, he never really doubted his ability to become published and, as such, persisted until the opportunities emerged. Having said that, he now recognizes that this sense of self-assuredness was (at least partly) due to his native-speaker privilege; he never even considered that he might be rejected, ‘Othered’, or treated as an outsider or as inferior. The belief that he belonged, further reinforced by the experience of successful publication, bred a great deal of confidence. In contrast, when teaching in the US, despite her English-based educational background, Emily felt like her bilingual language identity and international graduate student label would detract from her credibility as a writing instructor in the eyes of her L1 students. While dealing with imposter syndrome, at the same time she also grew aware of the privileges that came with ‘passing’ as ‘native’.

The ‘non-native’ label, with the implicit association of being unequal, inferior, or an outsider (see e.g., Holliday, Reference Holliday2006; Dewaele, Reference Dewaele2017), can be sufficiently powerful as to discourage some practitioners from participating in scholarly discourse. We have worked alongside ‘non-native’ teachers who have confided that they lack the confidence to submit proposals to conferences or attempt to publish their research, whilst relatively inexperienced (and sometimes lesser qualified) native teachers have forged ahead under the assumption that they will be given an opportunity. This sense of being unwelcome has serious implications for academic knowledge production with an imbalance in scholarly voices represented.

In concluding this article, we would like to reiterate that if we continue to accept the usage of outdated terms, we will struggle to shift away from outdated ways of thinking. However, given the number of issues raised by Flowerdew (Reference Flowerdew2019) and by Hyland (Reference Hyland2016a, Reference Hyland2016b), the complexity of the topic, and the word limit, this was a challenging article for us to write and we feel we have merely scratched the surface. The process of engaging in this reflective dialogue and writing up this response was valuable as part of our ongoing professional development and a fruitful way of more clearly identifying, analyzing and challenging our own beliefs on the issues. We believe it is vital that we, and other teachers of English, continually reflect on our own assumptions about our students, teaching methodologies, and language practices. We also strongly echo Kubota's (Reference Kubota2002) call that we all have a responsibility to examine how injustice impacts on the practices in our fields, regardless of the discomfort it may cause or the difficulty we may experience in doing so.