Good writing in political science

by Henry Farrell on February 17, 2010

Below is an essay that I wrote for my undergraduate class last semester, providing them with my (doubtless idiosyncratic) ideas about how to write good political science essays. It’s also available under a CC license in “PDF format”:, as well as “MultiMarkdown”: (its native format), “LaTeX”: and “RTF”: in case someone wants to play around with it (e.g. by adapting it for another discipline). Feel free to suggest improvements, point out grammatical errors or typos etc in comments, or indeed to comment generally on good and lousy writing in undergraduate papers.

UPDATE: some small improvements made and “Jottit version”: added.

[Cross posted to “The Monkey Cage”: ]

Good Writing in Political Science: An Undergraduate Student’s Short Illustrated Primer1

By Henry Farrell

Version 1.01

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.

Leo Tolstoy famously observed that “happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.” 2 Tolstoy, happily for all of us, was not a teaching political scientist. Had he been, he might have observed that undergraduate political science papers are subject to a different logic. Really good papers are unique – each has its own particular thesis, style of argumentation, body of empirical evidence and set of conclusions. Really bad papers, in contrast, tend toward a dismal uniformity. They draw on the same evidence (garbled versions of what the professor has presented in class), are organized according to similar principles of incoherence, and all wend their eventual ways towards banal conclusions that strenuously avoid making any claims or positive arguments whatsoever.

This short set of guidelines cannot make you into a really good essayist. For that you need time, practice, and native genius. What it can do, however, is help you avoid some of the most common pitfalls of undergraduate essay writers. You can surely avoid being a very bad essayist, and you can very likely become a better essayist than you are already. What follows is a short set of suggestions, accompanied, where available, with cautionary examples drawn from online essay mills.

Read the Requirements for the Assignment

This suggestion may be taken as insulting because it is so obvious; still, it is commonly ignored in practice. The professor usually drops some very strong hints about what she is looking for when she assigns a piece of writing. It is best to pay attention to those hints. For example, if you are asked to write a term paper on a problem of international cooperation, you should ensure that your term paper explicitly focuses on a topic that (a) involves cooperation, (b) has, at the least, some international aspect, and (c) is potentially problematic.

Sometimes, assignments are ambiguous. Professors too may err. The assignment may be inexactly worded or involve contradictory requirements. In these cases it is obviously best to ask the professor what she is looking for (it is often better to ask via email, to ensure that you have a written explanation of what the professor wants that you can refer to later). Where this is not possible (e.g. if you are trying to write an exam answer), you may want to be quite clear in saying how you are interpreting the question. For example, you might want to start by saying “In this answer, I interpret the phrase ‘international cooperation’ to mean …” If your interpretation is a reasonable one, this places the onus on the professor to either read the essay according to your interpretation or to justify (at least to herself) why not.

Avoid Data Dumps

Poor essays very often ignore the question asked in a quite specific way. The student spots some topic in the assignment that seems familiar, and immediately sets about writing an essay which tells the professor everything they know about that topic, in no particular order. For obvious reasons, such essays rarely receive high grades. Universities encourage (or, at least, they should encourage) students in the social sciences and liberal humanities to criticize, to analyze, and, ideally, to think. Mere demonstration that one possesses a disorganized body of knowledge on a topic, and is prepared to inflict this jumble upon the professor in printed or (worse) handwritten form, suggests that this encouragement has fallen on untilled ground.

Cut to the Chase

Undergraduate essays frequently begin with an extended session of throat-clearing irrelevances and vague generalities. They talk about everything except the question that has been asked. Take this example (drawn from a free term paper).

The onset of computers on the general population has given a boost to the Economy in the world’s market. People who weren’t much aware of the world became drawn to computers, which in turn brought about the Internet, connecting the world all over. The Internet has played a major role in the lives of people all over the world. Now, it is not limited to just important organizations or governments. Everyone who owns a computer is logged on to the Internet; and this has made the world seem smaller. No one has to wait for the postman to deliver the mail, but instead one can just connect to the Internet and right away, you got mail.

This, like many other essays that I have corrected on the political consequences of the Internet (I sometimes teach a course on this topic) begins with a paragraph that has nothing whatsoever to say about the politics of the Internet. Instead, the paper’s author sees the word ‘Internet’ and grabs desperately for banalities that he associates with this word.

Alternatively, students sometimes state and re-state the question in a manner intended to suggest that they understand it, without ever providing anything so provocative as an actual answer.

Should the internet be censored ? The internet is a wonderful place for entertainment and education, but, like all places used by millions of people, it has some pecularities that lead to a lot of talking and arguing over, should the internet be censored? Most of people who use the internet are furious about the censorship on the internet. The issue of whether is it necessary to censor the internet is being argued all over the world.

This essay starts off well. It sets out a short, pithy question that the reader might hope will be answered in the paper. But then it goes horribly, horribly wrong. The second sentence restates the first, garnished with a couple of irrelevant commonplaces. The third sentence suggests that there is controversy surrounding the topic of Internet censorship (a safe guess, given that the writer has been asked to write a paper about this controversy). The fourth sentence repeats the third. And so on. The writer evidently knows little or nothing about the essay topic, and is trying to conceal that fact. Unfortunately, he or she is failing.

These are the beginning sections of very bad essays. Most undergraduate essays are not nearly as bad as that. Still, many essays do begin with weak and meandering introductions that do not address the topic of their paper. This is a shame. It is important that you get the introduction right. This is your best opportunity to grab the reader’s attention and to persuade her that you have something interesting to say. Don’t waste it.

By the time the reader has finished reading the first two sentences, she should know which question the essay addresses. By the time the reader has finished reading the first five or six, she should have a pretty good idea of how the author is going to tackle the question. The following provides one example of a punchy beginning (nb: this is not taken from an essay mill):

Should the Internet be censored? While many Americans would say no, there is in fact a very good case for limited Internet censorship. Pedophiles can use the Internet to find each other and to swap child pornography. Terrorists can use the Internet to propagandize for their beliefs, and to recruit for their causes. Neo-Nazis and others can spread disinformation to the gullible, and persuade them that the Holocaust never occurred. In this essay, I argue that some kinds of Internet speech (child pornography, terrorist recruitment and hate speech) should be banned. I acknowledge that this may hurt legitimate forms of free speech if they become confused with the harmful kinds, but show that the beneficial consequences of banning bad speech outweigh the harmful consequences of accidentally banning (some) good speech.

This is, in my opinion, a good opening paragraph (since I wrote it myself as an illustration, it is perhaps unsurprising that I like it). It immediately states the question that the essay will try to answer. Shortly afterwards, it provides the reader with the proposed answer, and briefly describes the kind of evidence that it will use to support this answer. The introduction also acknowledges that there is a strong opposing case (that banning ‘harmful’ speech will hurt other kinds of speech), and promises that it will try to answer that case. The essay will not necessarily convince its readers (it takes a quite controversial stand), but it does signal to the reader that it has a clear question, a clear answer to that question, and a willingness to address the best arguments against the case it is making. That is all that any professor may reasonably ask for; not that she agree with the writer’s argument and conclusions, but that she recognizes them as well written, well structured, and well supported by the evidence.

Organize, Organize, Organize

Many student papers are badly organized. They wander from point to point. They tack an introduction and conclusion onto a main body that does not have any internal system of order. Or they do not have a distinguishable introduction, body, and conclusion at all.

Some excellent essayists can get away with apparently disorganized writing. It is usually a very bad idea to try to emulate them. Very often, apparently disorganized work is in fact highly organized. The author has merely kicked away the essay’s supports and scaffolding (e.g. an explicit introductory section and so on) as soon as it was strong enough to stand on its own. Sometimes, apparent disorganization is instead the product of a highly subtle mind, or of an elliptical writing style that approaches its topics indirectly rather than directly. Unless you are very confident indeed (and have evidence in the form of past work, print publications etc to justify this confidence) I strongly recommend that you avoid overly clever and non-linear approaches to writing. They require a lot of practice (usually at the more traditional sorts of writing) before they can be carried off well, and when they are carried off badly, they are very bad indeed. Genius may do as it will; mere intelligence and talent should be appropriately modest in their ambitions.

Thus, the need for structure. You should structure your essay at three levels.


This is the broad structure of the essay itself. Unless you feel very comfortable that you are an excellent writer, it is usually best to stick to the traditional frame of an introductory section, a main body, and a conclusion. The introduction tells the reader what you are going to say. The main body tells the reader what you are saying. The conclusions tell the reader what she has just read (perhaps adding some thoughts as to its broader implications if you are feeling adventurous).

This not only helps the reader understand your argument, but disciplines your thought and prose. It forces you to begin your essay with a clear, concise account of your major claims. When you write the main section of the essay (or re-write it, as needs be) the introduction will provide you with a roadmap of what you need to do. Your conclusions, in contrast, should draw the threads together, showing how the facts and arguments you have laid out in the main body actually speak to the broad themes discussed in the introduction, and drawing the threads of your narrative together into a proper whole. Of course, for this to work it is necessary that the main body of your essay actually speak to the arguments laid out in your introduction, that your conclusions relate to the main body, and so on.


This is perhaps the most commonly neglected element of structured writing. It concerns the paragraphs into which your prose is organized. Each paragraph should focus on one main point. The point of each paragraph should build on that in the previous paragraph, and create the foundations of the next. Each paragraph should be a necessary part of the overall structure of your essay.

I find that a useful mental exercise is to boil down the arguments of each paragraph, one after the other, into single sentences. Then, put all these sentences together into a consecutive narrative, looking to see whether each sentence can be made to flow naturally from the sentence previous to it, and into the sentence following. This will highlight any major structural problems. If you are not able to boil down each of the paragraphs into a single sentence summary (however simplistic), then the offending paragraphs most likely need to be rewritten more clearly. If there are gaps or non-sequiturs when you put the one sentence summaries together, then the meso-structure of your essay needs to be re-organized, by cutting and pasting paragraphs, or by introducing new paragraphs to fill the gaps, or deleting old paragraphs that detract from the flow of your argument.


What is true of the paragraph is also true of the sentence. Each individual sentence should flow in a logical and obvious way from the sentence before, and into the sentence after. Consider the following paragraph, taken from a term paper on global warming which is available for free online.

Weather these days has become very unpredictable. The increase in the world’s temperatures, believed to be caused in part by the greenhouse effect which is known as global warming has and will have a serious effect on the future. Global warming creates massive concerns for the entire earth. If the heat continues to increase several species may struggle to survive. There are numerous political, environmental, economic, and social issues when it comes to global warming. Global warming is an inevitable issue and by no stretch of the imagination can be slowed down easily. There is an inconceivable amount of causes that connect to global warming.

This is quite wretched writing. The first sentence is a vague generality that does not mean very much. The second sentence does not flow in any obvious way from the first. What does the greenhouse effect have to do with unpredictable weather? No explanation is provided for the reader. The third sentence merely repeats the argument of the second, with greater rhetorical alarm. The fourth does a little better, but loses force because it is so badly written (the claim that ‘several species’ may struggle to survive suggests that only five or six species are in danger, which sits awkwardly with the previous sentence’s suggestion that global warming causes “massive concerns” for the entire earth). The fifth sentence seems to build a new set of claims, and should be at the beginning of a new paragraph. However, it never goes anywhere. Instead, the sixth sentence warns that global warming is “an inevitable issue” (whatever that means), while the seventh sentence wrings its hands in despair over yet another new claim – that there is an “inconceivable amount” (sic) of causes “that connect” to global warming. These sentences are not only bad in themselves – they are not connected in any logical or orderly way. The result is that they do not add up to a coherent argument.

Exercises in Style

Political science is not a discipline notable for lovely prose. The best historians often write beautifully; the best political scientists rarely do. Good political science writing does not require striking metaphors or clever verbal constructions (while these are not precisely discouraged, they are not commonly regarded as necessary). Instead, it requires simple, direct writing, which communicates its arguments and evidence as clearly and unambiguously as possible.

The implications for prose style are straightforward.

First, use direct language when at all possible. This not only reads better; it communicates clearly who is responsible for what. For example, the sentence

The Iranian government censors newspapers and political websites.

not only reads much better than

Newspapers and political websites are subject to a censorship regime in Iran.

but it conveys more information in fewer words. It tells the reader who is responsible for censoring information (the government). The alternative version provides less information (the reader may guess that the government is responsible for censorship, but she cannot be sure). It also sounds cumbersome and laborious. Students sometimes use indirect constructions or the passive voice rather than direct language and active verbs because they think this will make their writing more sophisticated and ‘academic.’ They are wrong. Even worse, they sometimes prefer indirect language because they believe that it allows them get away with knowing less, by fudging their argument so that it can be interpreted in more than one way. Neither are good reasons. Indirect language often sounds weak, uncertain, and bureaucratic, and experienced readers will recognize when it is being used to bamboozle them. Sometimes, passive and indirect writing is appropriate, but it should be used with caution. It is usually better for students to err

Second, prefer simple words to complex words, and plain language to jargon. Sometimes it will be impossible to avoid jargon or obscure terms. However, it will usually be possible to use simple terms to convey your meaning. When you can do so, do so. Plain language makes life easier for the reader. It also makes it harder for the writer to get away with nonsense. If you use flowery language, you can sometimes persuade yourself that you understand topics and debates which you really do not. If you use plain language you will be forced to confront your areas of weak understanding and to rectify them.

Third, prefer straightforward sentence structures to complex ones. Again, simple sentences usually read better. Some writers (the historian Edward Gibbon is a fine example) can use complex sentence structure to convey irony and secondary meaning. You – unless you have grown up conversant with a prose tradition like Gibbon’s, in which case you have no need whatsoever to read primers like this – probably cannot. You should typically prefer simple sentences with the bare minimum of sub-clauses needed to convey your argument. Formless and incoherent sentences usually suggest formless and incoherent thought, and indeed they may plausibly cause intellectual incoherence. If you reduce your language down to plain, simple sentences with clear structure then you will again be less likely to hide any lack of understanding from the reader and yourself.


Writing good political science essays is not as hard as it seems. It does not require verbal creativity so much as an ordered and disciplined mind. Most obviously and simply, you should read and understand the essay assignment. You should begin by grabbing the attention of the reader with a clear statement of the question that you wish to answer, and how you wish to answer it. You should ensure that your essay is structured and well organized, so that each part does its part, and fits together well with the other parts. Finally, you should ensure that your prose style does not get in the way of clear thinking and clear exposition. If you adhere to these simple rules, you are not guaranteed to write a good essay. No set of mechanical rules can provide such a guarantee. You will, however, avoid the basic mistakes that have plagued 80% of the bad political science essays that I have read over my nine years of teaching.


1. Illustrated, that is, with examples drawn from thesis mills.

2. I am grateful to Marty Finnemore and the readers of Crooked Timber and the Monkey Cage for comments on this essay.



Eric Cunningham 02.17.10 at 5:59 am


Thanks for this.

I am going to be teaching my first university courses this summer and have been dreading reading essays. Think I’ll use this, it says what I’ve been unable to say for years.




Xavier 02.17.10 at 8:22 am

Henry, this is good advice, and I’ll probably link to it from my course websites. But do we have good evidence that students improve their writing after reading primers like this? E.g., have you noticed any perceptible improvements in their writing after having them read this?


deliasmith 02.17.10 at 12:01 pm

Don’t you set limits to the length of an essay? Shouldn’t guidance for undergraduates include a note on keeping within word limits?


x. trapnel 02.17.10 at 12:17 pm

Since I just finished Anathem last night, I’m heartily amused by Henry’s leading off with a Stephenson reference only to then deprecate data dumps.


tired of blogs 02.17.10 at 12:26 pm

This is excellent advice for students, and an example of elegant writing in its own right.

You’ve omitted what I believe is the most important reason for weak undergraduate writing, though: students just don’t put in the time. If a student waits till (late in) the night before the paper is due to start working, the result is unlikely to be happy.


Andrew Edwards 02.17.10 at 1:54 pm

Reaching back for memories of my undergraduate PoliSci degree, I’d add or extend three things (drawn from my own experience writing terrible essays, and then getting much better at them, and then doing an MBA and losing it all in favour of really superb powerpoint skills):

1) This sounds dumb, but make sure you actually understand the topic and actually have a viewpoint. If you do not, you are not ready to write your essay. Think more. Thinking may take time.

This is implied underneath your advice that “If you use plain language you will be forced to confront your areas of weak understanding and to rectify them.” but should be more than implied.

2) Efforts to “sound smart” usually have the opposite of their intended effect. If you catch yourself in any way embelishing your prose to make it fancier or more consistent with your ideal of formality, stop. Just say what you mean.

3) Read it aloud to yourself before submitting. If you sound crazy, incoherent, or like a preening douchbag, re-write.


Eszter Hargittai 02.17.10 at 2:32 pm

Henry, thanks much for sharing and making it available under CC! There is lots of good advice in this essay and I’d like to tweak it for my own undergrads. What you wrote mirrors lots of points I make as well although I haven’t written it all down formally in this way. I like Andrew’s added points. As to length limit, yes, I set one and I do so in number of words as opposed to pages so as not to encourage playing with formatting.

I really like the way you talk about the three levels at which structure and organization matters. I’ve talked about these individually, but have never brought it together in this coherent way, I like this approach.

I’m afraid many graduate students could also benefit greatly from some of these pointers. (I just read a bunch of lit review drafts in the past 24 hours and had to correct way too many passive constructions.) I keep emphasizing to students that it is not simply a stylistic issues, much worse, it usually suggests unclear thinking or ideas. I think you make this point nicely.

I caught a typo or two, but didn’t take note. Once I go over this for editing purposes (to tweak for my own students), I’ll let you know where those were (I recall one or two).


Salient 02.17.10 at 2:43 pm

Feel free to suggest improvements

I like the harsh tone; I’d suggest changing the occasional harsh metaphor that suggests or implies inevitability. For example, I’d want to substitute something like “untilled ground” for “barren ground,” to emphasize that each student certainly does have the capacity to be receptive to advice and to apply it reasonably successfully, if they prepare appropriately.

Don’t you set limits to the length of an essay?

IMO the rules for this are more idiosyncratic, so giving concrete advise would be inadvisable and maybe counterproductive (detracting from the more universally applicable advice). I remember being sternly lectured by a professor over having deprecated a good essay to bring it down in length from seven pages to four, and being sternly lectured by a professor for not revising and narrowing what I planned to say, to bring a good essay down in length from six and a half pages to five. These were both reasonable perspectives; perhaps good advice would be “make sure you understand which of the stated requirements the professor considers to be incidental, and which requirements the professor understands to be essential.”


Dan Drezner 02.17.10 at 4:15 pm

I agree with Eszter — graduate students should be reading this as well.
Hell, a large number of professors — myself included — would be well-served by occasionally re-reading it.


Henry 02.17.10 at 4:50 pm

Thanks all. I have, of course, spotted some infelicities and errors meself, which I will try to correct for version 1.01 this evening, as well as implementing the changes that Salient suggests (any others?). It is amazing how many small blunders you are unable to see until you have hit the ‘publish’ button; happily, with blogposts it is easy to rewrite the offending bits and republish. I will think about writing a v. 1.5 this summer, with added sections as seems appropriate – seems as though enough people think this is useful, that it is worthwhile doing a bit more.

Xavier – I did notice an improvement last semester – but it was a writing-intensive course, where students had to hand in multiple drafts, so they had much greater incentive to pay attention to my pronouncements on writing style than in the usual set-up.


John 02.17.10 at 5:31 pm

Thanks for taking the time to put this together. I have thought of doing something like this nearly every time they are grading essays, so maybe the fact that you have provided an excellent starting point will be the motivation I need to write some guidelines for my own students. I agree with “tired of blogs” that this may only be beneficial for students who are willing to put some time and effort into their writing care about their writing in the first place, but I think this will be a huge success even if it only makes the good writers better.


Stacie 02.17.10 at 5:32 pm

This is excellent. The only thing I think is missing is a discussion of counterarguments. I tell my students that they must address and critique alternative arguments–that it’s not just about providing evidence for one theory, but showing why others are inadequate.


x. trapnel 02.17.10 at 5:51 pm

I second adding the “read it aloud” suggestion. At least for native speakers, this is the next best thing to a human proofreader.


Alex Gregory 02.17.10 at 7:21 pm

For graduate students (and staff!), I found the following extremely helpful: Jonathan Bennett and Samuel Gorovitz, “Improving Academic Writing”, in Teaching Philosophy 20:2 (1997) pp. 105-20.

Tired of blogs is surely right that one thing many undergraduates don’t do is start early enough. Bear in mind that if laziness is the problem, a guide for writing that spans numerous pages is unlikely to be read. So when revising this, I’d be wary that you take things out as well as add to it.


Philip 02.17.10 at 8:37 pm

I think it might be useful to write about the stuff before you get to writing the essay. A typical experience for me, as a student, would be like this. I would go to lectures and seminars and get an idea of what the Professor is interested in and what their views are, there might even be part of the course that I was particularly interested in. I might be given a list of topics or titles for the essay. I wouldn’t want to argue against the Professor’s views especially in their area of interest. I would see it as an easy option to make arguments similar to the Professor’s, obviously you would have to go into more detail than had been covered in the sessions. Sometime I would choose a topic I thought would be interesting that I didn’t know too much about, but wanted to find out more. This is opposed to a topic where I knew more about but didn’t find interesting. That was a risky strategy as I might write a better essay as I was more interested in the subject though it might be worse if I didn’t have enough time for sufficient reading.

By the time I’d chosen a topic I would have read some relevant literature and have an idea about other things to read. I would then read in more detail, make notes, select good quotes etc. Somewhere during this process I would know what points I would want to make or argue against. Ideally then I would try and put them in a structure, maybe reconsider my arguments, insert my notes, flesh them out, a bit of editing then I’d have an essay. Often though the, make a structure, flesh out notes, and reconsider arguments, stages were interchangeable.


otto 02.17.10 at 8:41 pm

One thing I think undergrad students in IR could really benefit from would be, where that is the bent of the course, a short or punchy reading which would bring out the need to stick to positivist/explanatory approaches to IR outcomes rather than make normative arguments. It’s a continual curse to have students drifting into writing about what the US *should* do in international politics when the essay questions are about explaining why the US does the things that it does, and if anyone has a good reading that works to prevent this, I’d love to hear it.


Salient 02.17.10 at 9:31 pm

A possible revision to the read-it-aloud suggestion for students: Have someone else read it aloud.

Was I ever surprised to learn that my interpretation of commas[,] and of sentence flow in my own sentences[,] is largely unshared by the rest of the world. The sentences which seem to sweep along so nicely in my own mind and voice turn out to be awfully horribly clunky.

If a student waits till (late in) the night before the paper is due to start working, the result is unlikely to be happy.

Tired of blogs is surely right that one thing many undergraduates don’t do is start early enough.

True. In case anybody out there’s an instructor frustrated by this and interested in countermeasures,^1^ someone suggested I require students to keep time logs and provide weekly email progress reports, with a specified subject line like Essay 2 Week 5 (in the email body: what have you done, how long did you spend on it). So I did! Short summary: the final work was better than normal in terms of median grade, had less bluster than normal, was more polished and attentive to the structural requirements than normal, and more students verified their understanding of assignment expectations with me than normally happens, but OTOH, students need it made clear that it’s not a space for them to type long excuses for what they haven’t done, and it was hard at first to resist spending hours each week carefully reading the progress reports instead of speedskimming them.

Students felt the pressure of an artificial deadline each week, and making the reports count for 2% of the grade made them feel significant to the student without imposing anything on me as instructor. The truly unmotivated might not bother to get anything done each week, or will fib, but who cares; a large swath of students responded productively to the pressure. And of course, a handful of students got excited about the chance to go on and on about their findings and ideas informally, and will therefore put more hours into the pre-writing contemplation and exploration that make for a better final product.

There’s not a lot of minimum overhead on the instructor side, just weekly check marks and a fuller email inbox, unless one makes the mistake I did and tries to attentively read and carefully respond with pertinent advice to every weekly progress report — the maximum overhead is unbounded. By the end of the semester it was a quick skim, a “Thanks for keeping me updated! –Sal.,” optionally a comment to ask me the questions in person before class if questions were included for me, and on to the next one…

It helps that I teach ed students, who as a group seem more a little amenable to these kinds of procedures, but the idea seems adaptable for any long assignment. I don’t know, maybe this wasn’t worth going on about.

^1^(This is not to assert that it is or should be an instructor’s job to provide motivational services, I don’t have an opinion on that.)


zebbidie 02.17.10 at 9:32 pm

is that really passive voice and is passive voice really weak and limp sounding? isn’t that a holdover from Strunk & White and therefore won’t Language Log be handing you your arse on a platter?

I genuinely want to know this – I’ve read rant after rant on LL and I am still no more confident in identifying a passive construction than when I started. : /


Salient 02.17.10 at 9:42 pm

(Oops! I didn’t avoid a data dump and landed myself in moderation, probably for immoderate length. Sorry for that, here’s a more amenably short retry.)

A possible revision to the read-it-aloud suggestion for students: Have someone else read it aloud as well.

I was surprised by how poorly my grammar represents the sentence flow and inflection that I imagine in my own head, and by how clunky my sentences can sound to a reader; that’s made me much more attentive to punctuation over the years.


Steve K 02.17.10 at 10:50 pm

Henry, this is all generally good advice, but it seems to me to be more like a general “how to write a good college paper” guide than “how to write a good poly sci paper.” The advice applies just as well to an English paper as it does to a poly sci paper. Can you think, for instance, of conventions that are specific to poly sci papers, but are different from other undergraduate papers? For example, I expect my literature students to spend a lot time in their papers closely examining particular passages from the books, and I also want them identifying underlying contradictions in the novels. I don’t think other disciplines emphasize those things so much.


mor 02.17.10 at 11:58 pm

You move from ‘prefer’ as the student’s predilection to ‘prefer’ in an injunctive sense eg. “prefer straightforward sentence structures”. It jars. We are passive before our preferences but active in our choices so ‘choose straightforward etc’ or ‘use’ or ‘select’. Rational choice reliably rewarded will create preference. In time, in time…


Barry 02.18.10 at 12:30 am

Henry, good prioritizaton of excellence synergizing and process flow excellence is acknowledged by many to be an excellent synergistic priority; however, implementation methodologization and program evaluationalistic synergizing is considered to be of higher importance, by many others. The lexigraphical analyses and exemplification expressed above is considered to be sadly lacking in such methodological implementation structuring, and no mention of program evaluationalizing can be found, even after considered, careful, painstaking re-reading and re-re-reading. It is strongly desired that such operationalizing of the above items be woven into the next revision of this draft piece.


Steven 02.18.10 at 2:17 am

In terms of structure and presentation, etc.–the things you concern yourself with–happy poli sci essays are indeed almost all alike. Meanwhile, the ways for an essay to be sad are infinite. This is all I disagree with. Otherwise, very good stuff.


Eszter Hargittai 02.18.10 at 10:10 am

Kieran wrote the following helpful writing guide a while back [pdf]:

I think he targeted it at undergrads although I think this may work better for grad students. Regardless, it has some very helpful thoughts on how to approach writing a research paper. (The focus is a bit different from some of what’s above, but I figured it was still worth a pointer given how helpful it is regarding its focus.)


Ciarán 02.18.10 at 12:31 pm

Thanks to Salient for that excellent idea re update emails. I might implement that, with a quick in-person progress review two thirds of the way through the semester or the like.


Jeff 02.18.10 at 10:17 pm

Donald/Deirdre McCloskey’s The Writing of Economics (Macmillan, 1987) is very good on this subject as well — and really for graduate and professional levels. Also her “Economical writing” available here .


Salient 02.18.10 at 11:06 pm

Glad to hear it was useful, Ciarán; trust me when I say that the most important / useful piece of advice was the copying and pasting “Thanks for the update!” part. (And the part about reminding them that it’s not an avenue to complain about how much work there is to do or to fill you in about every last thing that happened in their life to delay/distract from their work.) Deep reading and thoughtful replies to each email can consume entire ten-hour days fast. (Of course, there’s probably student benefit to be gained from such replies, but the time cost can be truly intense, and it took me a while to get into a low-time-cost rhythm each Monday. And actually, at first my students complained about having long replies from me to read each week, helpful or not, so I didn’t feel at all guilty transitioning to a kthxbai reply motif.)


Don't Quote Me on That 02.19.10 at 3:24 am

Here’s another piece of advice: If your sentence begins with the word “this,” your sentence probably needs rewording. This is a nearly universal rule.


Henry 02.19.10 at 4:35 am

I have made some small changes to the text. I may make larger ones later – but those who are impatient and want to do their own remixes of the text to incorporate their own ideas are _very welcome to._ Lots of versions to play around with. If people want to do a ‘community mix, to incorporate some of the other suggestions’ I have set up a page at “”: which people can play around with (since Jottit uses Markdown, this took all of 30 seconds). I am also fine with people getting rid of the attribution to me if it gets to the point (unlikely, I suspect, but I would love to be wrong), where most of my text has been altered or has disappeared.

salient – thanks for the suggestion – change has been made.

zebbidie – I think that indirect writing is a particular problem for social science writing, where you want to identify the possible causal relationships as specifically as possible. The sentence that I quoted was not in the passive voice, but was indirectly written. I have spruced up the language here a bit to avoid the wrath of Language Log as best as I can.

Mor – thanks – change made.

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