Two Episodes That Changed the Way I Think About Student Entrepreneurship

As a first-year PhD scholar, I entered the world of research with a mind full of questions and curiosity. I knew I wanted to study entrepreneurship. I was familiar with the buzzwords such as “startup culture,” “innovation,” “founder mindset” that were referenced in classrooms, conversations, and conferences. But I hardly understood what it really means to become an entrepreneur. Through a couple of lived experiences during this course, I elaborate – why do some students act on their intentions, while others hesitate? The answer to this question changed not just how I looked at student entrepreneurship, but how I looked at research itself.

Episode One: When Class Turned into a Startup Studio

The first episode was during my very first semester at the School of Management, IIT Mandi, during a course on entrepreneurship. We were being introduced to Effectuation – a term I had come across in my course readings, but hadn’t quite grasped.

The Professor was talking about an effectual logic that successful entrepreneurs use, rather than a rigid plan. For your understanding—the effectual logic says that entrepreneurial thinking is rooted in the resources you already have, the people you know, and the willingness to co-create a future, which is yet uncertain. After elaborating this logic, almost casually, he issued a challenge:

“Go out and sell anything.”

No guidelines. No budget. Just action.

I watched my fellow classmates—who, until a few hours ago, were buried in case studies and frameworks—suddenly transform. The whole class was full of energy and enthusiasm. Some students teamed up to sell snacks on campus, others created handmade products, while a few leveraged their design skills to sell t-shirts. And then there were some who even started building mobile apps.

Within a few days, the classroom became a marketplace. Learning became living. That day, I witnessed firsthand how students, when nudged towards action, can tap into something truly entrepreneurial.

It wasn’t just exciting—it was eye-opening. Effectuation, it seemed, wasn’t just a theory. It was a way of doing. And it had just played out in front of me.

Episode Two: The Book That Made It All Make Sense

A few months later, as I began searching for a concrete research topic for my PhD, in one of our recent research guidance meetings, my doctoral supervisors recommended I read a book. The book was “Effectuation: Elements of Entrepreneurial Expertise” by Professor Saras D. Sarasvathy.

By now, I had heard of the word Effectuation, of course. I had even encountered its five famous principles during that classroom episode I shared earlier. But reading the full book, page by page, was a rich experience altogether. Those principles became much more relatable.

This wasn’t just another academic treatise. It was a journey—into the minds of expert entrepreneurs, into the messy world of decision-making under uncertainty, and into a radically different way of thinking about new venture creation.

Sarasvathy’s research was grounded in a fascinating question: How do expert entrepreneurs think? Using cognitive science methods like “think-aloud protocols,” she uncovered that these entrepreneurs didn’t rely on prediction or perfect plans. Instead, they started with what they had—their identity, knowledge, and networks—and built ventures through constant interaction and adaptation.

This way of thinking, known as effectual logic, stood in contrast to the more common causal logic taught in business schools. While the causal logic is rooted in, “What’s my goal and how do I get there?”, the effectual logic focuses on, “What can I do with what I have?”

Connecting the Dots: From Classroom to Research Question

Suddenly, the dots began to connect. That classroom challenge—“go out and sell anything”—wasn’t just a fun exercise. It was a live demonstration of effectuation. Students weren’t waiting for perfect plans; they were experimenting, adjusting, and learning by doing.

But not all students behave this way, why?

That question led me deeper into thinking about the intention-action gap in student entrepreneurship. I have seen several students interested in entrepreneurship. They attend workshops, join startup clubs, and talk about building “the next big thing.” But when it comes to acting on these ideas, most hesitate.

The more I read Sarasvathy’s book, the more I began to realize that perhaps it wasn’t a lack of intention—but a lack of effectual mindset—that holds the students back.

Could it be that we are teaching students about entrepreneurship, but not equipping them to think like entrepreneurs?

Are we focusing too much on business plans and not enough on affordable loss, leveraging contingencies, and co-creating with stakeholders?

The Researcher Within Me Was Awakening

As a first-year researcher, reading this book raised more questions than answers. But that’s the beauty of research, isn’t it? Here are some interesting questions that dawned on me:

• How do student entrepreneurs differ from expert entrepreneurs in their cognitive approach to venture building?
  
• Can effectuation be taught, not just as a theory but as a lived experience?
  
• How does peer interaction, mentorship, or institutional support impact the application of effectual logic?
  
• And most importantly, how can effectuation be used to bridge the gap between entrepreneurial intentions and action, especially among students?
  

I realized that my research wasn’t just about student startups or incubators or metrics of success. It was about understanding how students think, how they make decisions under uncertainty, and how their mindset shapes their actions.

What Changed in Me

Before reading this book, I saw student entrepreneurship as a series of outcomes: startups launched, competitions won, and investment raised. Now, I see it as a process of effectual evolution—a dance between the known and the unknown, the possible and the practical.

I am no longer just a student of entrepreneurship. I am a student of entrepreneurial thinking. And as I begin my doctoral research journey, I carry with me the energy of that classroom challenge and the insight of Sarasvathy’s book.

These episodes—one lived, one read—haven’t just shaped my research topic.

They’ve shaped me.