Social scientists look for patterns amid variation. One context in which we find such patterns is in the drudge of grading. In the course of reviewing dozens–or sometimes hundreds–of papers, instructors find that students have adopted odd rhetorical quirks as part of their grammatical repertoires.
Let’s be clear: professors have no monopoly on defining what constitutes “good writing.” Many observers believe that professors do not even write particularly well themselves. Ironically, however, the specific accusations of poor writing usually hurled at professors–being obscurantist, enjoying too-long sentences, using arcane words–describe sins more frequently committed by undergraduates.
There may be a pattern in these offenses against plain meaning. The stodgy, often anachronistic phrases that students deploy is probably grounded in a disconnect between what they think professors want and what professors actually want to see. Maybe students think we’ll read phrases like “ways in which” and “have the propensity to” and remark to ourselves, “My, what a firm grasp on the English language young Brayden commands.” (To be fair, such clunkers pop up often in what’s assigned for undergraduate classes.) In reality, our eyes are glazing over and tears are streaming down our cheeks while we whisper: “Please, for the love of Athena, just tell us what you mean.” After all, that’s how we react when our peers write the same things!
Usually, these grammatical offenses constitute misdemeanors, not felonies. It’s easy to replace “in order to” with “to,” for instance (and you should!). Papers that employ many such minor offenses, however, suffer from the writerly equivalent of clogged arteries. Extra words and cumbersome phrases add to the reader’s cognitive load, making it harder to read. Sufficiently motivated readers may persevere, but such problems make it more likely not only that a reader will bail on a piece of writing midway through but also that the writer’s point will be garbled.
Fortunately, many such flaws can easily be avoided. We present a non-exhaustive list of some recommendations to help novice and experienced writers alike.
Simple phrases to avoid
Where possible, always avoid clearing your throat or taking too many words to say a simple thing.
“In order to”? Replace with “to”
“A number of”? “Many” is better. “Several” is more precise. Best? An approximate or actual count.
“Ways in which”? “Ways” or “how”
“Have the propensity to”? Just “may”
“Extant literature”: not even once. Just say “literature”.
“Research has shown Y”? Straight to jail. Instead, write “{X citation} demonstrates Y” or “Y ({X citations}).” Let the citations form part of your argument!
Strange substitutions
One bad habit writers of all ages fall into: using words that are almost but not quite the same as the word they need to use. Don’t use “as” or “since” when you intend to say “because.” Especially when writing about causal relationships, you need to be clear about what you think is causing what, rather than confusing causal relationships (Y because X) with temporal sequence (Y after X). Saying “Y since X” introduces an ambiguity about what you want to claim.
While we’re on the subject of strange substitutions: do not go spelunking in the thesaurus for colorful words when a simple and direct word would suffice. If you mean to describe something as old, then say so. If you’re feeling spunky, maybe use a specialized term like “ancient”, if it is warranted. Only rarely would you need to instead deploy “antiquated,” “anachronistic,” or “antediluvian.” A minute consulting the dictionary would remind you that each word brings with it specific connotations and meanings that may not be what you want to introduce into your argument. (Look back to the introduction of this piece to see how “anachronistic” can be used precisely, for instance.)
Verbal scaffolding
Some phrases are acceptable in drafts but should be removed (or at least reduced) before the final version. These phrases make logic and structure clear, which helps you to keep your argument on a firm foundation, but may annoy the reader if they have to see all the scaffolding surrounding the argument they want to behold. Just remove these before hitting “submit”
As you can see
Note that / Note / Notice that / Notice
Moreover
Indeed
simply
We then
Thus
For example
For instance
The reason being
Remove these in the final draft. (You may also want to take a blowtorch to 90 percent of your adverbs.)
Gaucheries
Much like wearing pleats is a non-starter in fashion (Nick will die on this hill), students should avoid several common gauche tendencies:
ending sentences with a prepositional phrase (most often, “of”)
starting a sentence with “But”
not following an “if” statement with “then”
using “not only” without coupling the juxtaposition with “but also”
randomly capitalizing non-proper nouns
using “this” without a noun after it
Linguistic pedants will object that some of these are, technically, grammatical. Sure! Nevertheless, they’re rarely the best solution to your problem, and they will grate on some fraction of your readers. Avoid them.
The upshots
The takeaway: Writing habits can be made or broken. Form good habits and break bad ones.
The practical: Simple practices can improve the clarity of your sentences. Practice these pieces of advice and your professors will look forward to reading your work (even if they will still loathe grading, because that’s not fun for anyone).
Great advice, though there's one gaucherie that I may have an issue with. ;)