Everyone
Can Write Better (and You Are No Exception)
Advice
to Students of Psychology
by
Herbert H. Clark
Everyone can write
better, and you are no exception. Your papers illustrate a variety of common
faults in academic writing. Not all of these faults are easy to fix, but many
are. Here I will restrict myself to the easy ones. You will have to work out
the hard ones for yourself.
Principle 1: Don't be
pedantic.
Most of you wrote as if
you were trying to be pedantic, as if you wanted to sound like stuffy academics
or old fogies. I was astonished at the lengths you went to. A few examples:
a.
"In
a broader sense, one might view much of the history of psychology in terms of
the tension generated by these two seemingly contradictory components of the
human organism, a history that has involved an oscillation between periods in
which the field has focused primarily on motivational issues and periods in
which it has focused principally on cognitive issues."
b. "Initially
construed as an embarassing [sic] error on the part of the perceiver, illusion
came instead to be, at first a more powerful and exquisitely sensitive research
instrument, and, later, the very hallmark of the human being's tremendous
sophistication in "creating" knowledge and actively construing
reality."
c.
"When
irrefutable schema-inconsistent information is integrated, it will normally
elicit a process known as causal attribution, which basically means that the
perceiver will try to generate a hypothesis which explains the source of this
inconsistent information."
d.
"The
implications of these findings for the Vallone, Ross, and Lepper experiment
concern the schema that each of the two groups above hold of the Arab-Israeli
conflict."
If these sound good to
you, you need to retrain your ear. If they sound bad, you should understand
why. Here are some suggestions.
1. Never write a word
or phrase you wouldn't use in conversation. Would you ever say aloud to anyone "the
implications of these findings concern a schema" or "each of the two
groups above" or "irrefutable schema-inconsistent information"
or "these two seemingly contradictory components of the human
organism" or "the former is more important than the latter"?
I'll wager you wouldn't. If not, get rid of them. It's not that writing is
merely printed conversation -- it isn't. Because you can edit, written language
can be much more concise and precise, and so it also tends to be more formal.
But it is easy to overdo the formality, and most of you did. Always ask
yourself, "Could I say this in a conversation or a lecture?" If the
answer is no, start again.
2. Get rid of excess
verbiage. (As
Mark Twain put it, "Eschew surplusage.") Excess verbiage detracts
from what you have to say. Too often it puts on full display how little you
have to say. Take example a and compare my version:
"The
history of psychology reflects a tension between these two components. It has
oscillated between a focus on motivation and a focus on cognition."
Shortening the original
version has done no damage. Indeed, the new version is clearer and surely less
work to understand.
3. Never use a heavy,
uncommon, or academic word or phrase where a lighter, commoner, or plainer word
would do. In
academic writing, you need a certain number of technical terms, such as
"schema," "mutual exclusivity," "situational,"
"causal attributions," and "availability," simply to make
your theories clear. But these terms also make your writing hard to read. Don't
compound the problem by using pedantic words and phrases where you don't need to.
Here are some common offenders (many cribbed from Flesch):
Pedantic: Replace
with: |
Nouns: |
persons,
individuals people |
subjects (other
terms) |
Verbs: |
acquire get,
gain |
attempt,
endeavor try |
concerns is
about |
constitutes is |
continue keep
up |
employ use |
exists is |
supplement add
to |
utilize use |
Prepositions and
conjunctions: |
along
the lines of like |
as
to about |
concerning about,
on |
for
the purpose of for |
for
the reason that since,
because |
from
the point of view of for |
inasmuch
as since,
because |
in
favor of for,
to |
in
order to to |
in
accordance with by,
under |
in
the case of if |
in
the event that if |
in
the nature of like |
in
the neighborhood of about |
in
terms of in,
for |
on
the basis of by |
on
the grounds that since,
because |
prior
to before |
regarding about,
on |
with
a view to to |
with
reference to about
(or leave out) |
with
regard to about (or leave out) |
with
the result that so
that |
|
Connectives: |
accordingly so |
consequently so |
for
this reason so |
furthermore so |
hence so |
in
addition besides,
also |
indeed in
fact |
likewise and,
also |
more
specifically for
instance, for example |
moreover now,
next |
nevertheless but,
however |
that
is to say in
other words |
thus so |
to
be sure of
course |
Other phrases that can
often be omitted:
concerned
involved
respectively
You will get rid of most
pedantic expressions by Rule 1, since they are ones you are unlikely ever to
use in conversation. Note that you can use any of these expressions. Just make
sure you have a good reason for doing so. Never put readers to extra work
without a good reason.
3'. Avoid
"which" whenever possible. Many English stylists (even William Safire) insist that
"which" should be used only for nonrestrictive relative clauses, or
appositive clauses, as in: "I just sold my car, which was in terrible
shape." They insist that "that" should be used in restrictive,
or defining, relative clauses, as in: "I just saw a car that was in
terrible shape." That is, you shouldn't use "which" as in:
"I just saw a car which was in terrible shape." Now many good
writers, especially in Britain, don't bother with this distinction--though it
isn't clear how they do distinguish the two words--so you can argue against my
advice on those grounds. But there is little doubt that "which" makes
prose weightier, more ponderous, than "that." This is especially true
when it is used in numbers. If you want to lighten up your writing, and you
should want to, find ways of avoiding "which."
Here is a useful
algorithm for getting rid of unnecessary "which"s.
a. Try deleting
"which/who/that is/was/has been" wherever you find it.
b. Try replacing
"which" with "that." (You can do this if the clause is
truly restrictive; you cannot if it isn't--if there is a comma before the
"which.")
c. Then try deleting
"that."
d. Never apply rules a
through c if it would change what you mean.
Apply this algorithm
consistently and I guarantee that you will make your readers happier.
4. Divide complicated
sentences into more than one sentence. Again, what you are writing about is hard enough to
understand without overly complicated sentences. Get rid of them by cutting
them in half or in thirds. Compare example b with this revision:
"Initially
illusions were construed as an embarrassing error on the part of the perceiver.
Later they came instead to be a more powerful and exquisitely sensitive
research instrument, and still later, the very hallmark of the human being's
tremendous sophistication in "creating" knowledge and actively
construing reality."
This still is pretty
awful. Take out the junk and here's what you get:
"At
first, illusions were treated merely as embarrassing errors of the perceiver.
Later, they were viewed as a powerful research instrument and, still later, as
the hallmark of human sophistication in creating knowledge and construing
reality."
Once you have a clear
sentence, you can decide whether it is what you want to say.
5. Root out unneeded
adjectives and adverbs. Adjectives and adverbs weigh down a sentence faster than most other
expressions, so use them sparingly. Indeed, many are redundant, and others put
readers to more work than they are worth. In the passage I just revised, I got
rid of "more," "exquisitely sensitive," "very,"
"tremendous," and "actively." The commonest offenders are:
intensifiers like "very" and "extremely," which usually
lead to overstatement; evaluative adjectives like "exciting,"
"surprising," "important," and "interesting,"
which presume on the reader's own judgment; and adverbs like
"basically," "essentially," and "simply," which
just waste space. There are many more.
The advice I have
offered so far follows three basic rules of good writing proposed by Gowers in
The Complete Plain Words:
"Use
no more words than are necessary to express your meaning, for if you use more
you are likely to obscure it and to tire your reader. In particular do not use
superfluous adjectives and adverbs and do not use roundabout phrases where
single words would serve."
"Use
familiar words rather than the far-fetched, if they express your meaning
equally well; for the familiar are more likely to be readily understood."
"Use
words with a precise meaning rather than those that are vague, for they will
obviously serve better to make your meaning clear; and in particular prefer
concrete words to abstract, for they are more likely to have a precise
meaning."
Gowers' book has much
more advice than this. It is worth studying.
Principle 2: Make
your writing lively.
Some approaches to
writing lead naturally to lively prose, and others to deadly prose. Too many of
you chose the deadly course. Here are some ways of animating what you say.
6. Center your
writing, where possible, on people and what they do. Most academic writing is about
abstract ideas, so it is hard to be concrete. But in psychology our natural
subject matter is people and what they do. Putting them at the center should
make it be easy to be concrete. Yet most of you resisted that temptation and
shoved them into the background. Compare example c with this minimal revision:
"When
people try to integrate irrefutable schema-inconsistent information, they will
normally use a process known as causal attribution, which basically means that
they will try to generate a hypothesis that explains the source of the
inconsistent information."
All I have done is make
the implicit subject--people--explicit. That made the process seem more
concrete and, incidentally, forced me to use the active instead of the passive
voice. Both of these consequences are desirable. Example c, of course, could be
improved in other ways too.
6'. Do not, however,
center your writing on previous researchers and what they did. It is all too easy to name one
scholar after another and describe what they claimed, as in these two examples:
"Tversky
and Kahneman (1983) review the literature in which people making certain
decisions under uncertainty fail to take base-rates into account."
"Markman
(1987) points out that the way young children succeed at acquiring the concepts
that their language encodes so quickly is that they are limited in the kinds of
hypotheses they consider."
Ordinarily you will want
to focus on how people think and behave and not on what scholars have to say
about this. You will undermine that purpose if you place the scholars in the
subject position. In the examples just cited, the sentences are about Tversky
and Kahneman, and about Markman, and they shouldn't be. Put the scholars in
secondary locations, in subordinate clauses or in parentheses, as in these
revisions:
"People
making certain decisions under uncertainty fail to take base-rates into account
(Tversky & Kahneman, 1983)."
"How
do children succeed at acquiring the concepts that their language encodes so
quickly? According to Markman (1987), it is because they are limited in the
kinds of hypotheses they consider."
In both revisions the
focus is back where it belongs--on people and their psychological processes.
Occasionally, of course, you may want to focus on the researchers themselves,
but that should be rare.
7. Prefer the active
over the passive voice. Why? The active voice is usually more concrete. It forces you to make
the subject explicit--compare "when information is integrated" with
"when people integrate information"--and that makes the sentence more
vivid. It also prevents you from using one of the weakest constructions in
English, the one that ends with a passive verb, as here:
"The many decisions
regarding issues and options of well-being measurement should always be
carefully weighed and considered."
In English, we expect
sentences to end with new information, and so sentences like this fall flat.
(Just remember the rule: "Sentences that end with verbs should be
assiduously avoided.") Get rid of the passive and your prose will become
more animated.
8. Avoid
nominalizations, especially the first time you mention an action. A nominalization is a verb or
adjective turned into a noun. They are deadening because they make concrete
concepts abstract, and because they tempt you into omitting the concrete people
and objects that are acting. In this example, the nominalizations
are in italics. Compare
my revision:
"Regardless
of the truth or falsity of the notion that covariance computations are natural
assessments which underlie the conjunctive [sic, should be conjunction]
fallacy, it is the spirit of the hypothesis and the level on which it is
pursued which are critical to my example."
"Whether
or not people who commit the conjunction fallacy rely on natural assessments in
which they compute covariation, it is the spirit of the hypothesis and the
level on which it is pursued which are critical to my example."
My version, which
eliminates all the nominalizations except the technical terms, is more concrete
and probably easier to understand.
9. Do not begin
sentences with the empty "it." An example:
It is possible that
subjects evaluate their answer's correctness by the ease with which they can
generate reasons that support this answer.
Sentences like this are
weak. They place what is important in a subordinate position. They are easy to
revise, as in this example: "Subjects may evaluate their answer's
correctness..." Here are some common offenders:
Replace: With:
It
is often the case that they They
often...
It
may be true that they They
may...
It
is obvious that Obviously,...
There are many more.
10. In reporting
data, describe your findings, not your statistics. One of the banes of good writing
in psychology is statistical jargon. When you describe what you found in an
experiment, you may be tempted to write like this (from a recent journal article):
"The
analysis of variance for the total number of items recalled on the House
passage indicated only a significant effect of recall period, F(1,84) = 19.92,
p < .001. All other Fs were not significant."
Now what are we readers
interested in? Surely not the analysis of variance per se. The only way the
author thinks about his data is as entries in an analysis of variance table.
But we want to know the pattern of results, and the author never tells us. Why
didn't he say this:
"Subjects
who read the House passage recalled an average of one item more after one day's
delay than after two, F(1,84) = 19.92, p < .001. There were no other
reliable differences."
This way we hear about
the findings and can look at the statistics if we want to.
So organize your writing
around your findings and demote statistical talk to subordinate
positions--subordinate clauses, parentheses, anywhere but prominent places. And
get rid of as much jargon as you can. Never use phrases like these if you can
possibly help it: "significant main effect," "interaction,"
"is a function of," and "2X2X2 split plot design." Rarely
will your experimental design be so complicated that you have to describe the
type of ANOVA you used. If your readers know analysis of variance well enough
to understand your jargon, they know it well enough to figure out your design.
Remember: you will be more fluent about your statistics and experimental design
than will most of your readers. Write with them in mind.
An anecdote. Years ago I
sent an experimental paper of mine to a well known linguist at Berkeley. I
thought he would be interested because my findings applied directly to a claim
he had made, but he never replied. Later I asked him why. He said he had tried
to read the paper, but he couldn't get through the statistics. Now, as readers
go, he is very
sophisticated--he has an MIT degree in mathematics--and yet my statistical
jargon had discouraged him from reading a paper I had written with him in
particular in mind. Don't make the same mistake.
Principle 3: Be
professional.
11. Avoid sexist
language, but do so unobtrusively. There is evidence that many people interpret the generic
"he" (as in "Every student should pick up his exam before
leaving") to refer to males and not to males and females. How can you avoid
this bias? Here is not a way:
"For
example, in the first stage a 3 year old child scares him/herself while telling
a story about a monster."
Expressions like
"he/she" and "him/herself" are abominations. They are
something you would never say aloud--the ultimate in pedantic language--and,
worse, they call attention to themselves and the sexism they are trying to
cure. That is no way to abolish sexism.
There are three ready
solutions for most sexist language. The first is to use the plural, as in this
sentence from the same paper:
"In
the third stage, children tend to stay in the fantasy, but act as they would in
reality."
"Children ...
they" covers both sexes. The second is to introduce the actual sex of the
person being described, as in this revision of the passage I cited:
"For
example, in the first stage a 3-year-old girl might scare herself while telling
a story about a monster."
Be sure that half of
your examples use males and half use females. The final option is to use
"he or she." This is a bit painful to the ear, but it is something we
could say in a lecture or conversation.
12. Check your
spelling.
Nothing looks more unprofessional than a paper, even a draft, with typos and
misspellings. Example b misspells "embarrassing," and that stops us,
irritates us, and invites us judge the writer as ignorant or uncaring. Today,
with spelling checkers on every computer, there is no excuse for misspellings.
13. Put your writing
in the correct format. Papers in the wrong format also look unprofessional. Check the
Publication Manual of the American Psychological Association for proper formats
for paragraphs, tables, footnotes, titles, abstracts, references, and figures.
For many readers, a sloppy form can spoil a paper, and that reflects badly on
you. Nowadays, with computers and their capabilities, there is
also no excuse for bad
formatting.
In writing, your goal is
to communicate--to get your readers to understand what you are about. The
advice I have offered is to help you do that more effectively. Writing well
will take work, but the rewards are great. Half of doing science is writing, so
until you write well, you will never be more than half a scientist.
Useful References:
Flesch, R. (1949) The
Art of Readable Writing. New York: Collier.
Gowers, E. (1973) The
Complete Plain Words, revised by Bruce Fraser.
London: Her Majesty's
Stationery Office.
Stone, W., & Bell,
J. (1983) Prose Style: A Handbook for Writers.
New York: McGraw-Hill.
Zinsser, W. (1980) On
Writing Well. New York: Harper & Row.