‘I don’t know what you’re all moaning about. You only have to write one paper, I have to read dozens of the bloody things!’
We used to annoy a university tutor by fretting about exams within his hearing. He thought we had it easy: write four essays in three hours and we’d be free. He, on the other hand, had to spend weeks labouring to make sense of our nonsense. I didn’t sympathise with him at the time. I think I’m starting to.
Writing is easy. You just put your fingers on the keyboard and type. Writing well is hard. In this challenge, I really started to appreciate how hard it is to write academic texts in a manner that is both engaging and authoritative.
Some of the papers I read were bloodless descriptions of an experiment that summoned up images of rats and mazes. Others were free associative rambles through an author’s most recent thoughts. Most were somewhere in between. Some authors (Pugh) would feel it necessary (Pugh) to provide references (Pugh) for every tiny point that they made (McGrew, B., Cuthbert, Dibble & Grub). Others would cling to a single author like a drowning sailor to a lifebelt.
My prize for the best author was Andrew Collier. His book ‘Critical Realism: An Introduction to Roy Bhaskar’s Philosophy’ is an extraordinarily well-written book which manages to capture the (many) complexities of Bhaskar’s arguments with eloquence and elegance. For example, take the following sentences:
“Nothing that happens in an open system will of itself falsify a theory…If a doctor tells her patient ‘you are out of danger’. and the patient walks out of the surgery and under a bus, no one thinks the doctor unscientific.”
That is beautifully crafted. He also manages to insert just enough of himself into the text for the reader to get a sense of him as an author without ever giving the impression that he’d rather be writing a biography. Whenever, I need inspiration I turn to Collier.
Books on academic writing often recommend that you define your own style as an author. This, I’m sure, is good advice. The problem with it is that other people have their own preferences. This issue is particularly acute for doctoral students who have markers, reviewers and supervisors who might want your style to match their own. To help me define my own style I decided to come up with a few academic writing principles of my own:
- I am the author. I am not going to pretend that the article wrote itself.
- Use references to add depth or context to my argument. They are not there to demonstrate the breath of my reading or to fill in the gaps in your own logic.
- Narrative is important. Papers tell a story, whether you like it or not. Even if you’re revealing whodunit in the abstract, each section and paragraph should contribute a thread to the web that you are weaving.
- Quote sparingly. Quotes should be used to illustrate the argument that you are making. They shouldn’t be doing the heaving lifting. Demonstrate that you understand the points that other authors make by finding your own words to describe them.
- Stick the landing. Make your conclusion count. Don’t let it drift just as the landing strip comes in sight. Certainly don’t conclude with the woolly sentiment that ‘this area is deserving of further study’. Summarise what you’ve discovered and attempt your best to answer the dreaded question ‘So what?’
- Words are precious. There aren’t very many sentences that can’t be improved with the use of fewer words. Most sentences can be improved with fewer words. Short sentences are often better.
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