{"id":926,"date":"2017-08-29T09:47:24","date_gmt":"2017-08-29T08:47:24","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/inframethodology.cbs.dk\/?p=926"},"modified":"2017-08-30T11:13:08","modified_gmt":"2017-08-30T10:13:08","slug":"what-makes-writing-academic","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/inframethodology.cbs.dk\/?p=926","title":{"rendered":"What Makes Writing &#8220;Academic&#8221;?"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>This is a good question that Julia Molinari <a href=\"https:\/\/doctoralwriting.wordpress.com\/2017\/08\/22\/what-makes-our-writing-academic\/#comments\">has asked<\/a> over at the Doctoral Writing SIG blog. (See my <a href=\"http:\/\/inframethodology.cbs.dk\/?p=910\">previous post<\/a> inspired by that one.) I have posted some comments on that post and Julia has been kind enough to respond. I thought I&#8217;d just re-post the essence of the exchange here as well, elaborating a little as I go.<\/p>\n<p>I have found it useful to define academic writing simply as <em>the presentation of what you know for the purpose of discussing it with other knowledgeable people<\/em>. This, I like to stress, implies writing in such way that you open your thinking to criticism from your epistemic peers. &#8220;Form&#8221; can here be though of in terms of how it supports occasions for criticism. Mastering a form is really about learning how your reader needs your ideas to be presented if they are to be able to engage constructively with them.<\/p>\n<p>Or, rather, that&#8217;s what <em>academic<\/em> form is about. We can perfectly well imagine other forms of writing where &#8220;mastery&#8221; is shown in how well you\u00a0<em>deflect<\/em> criticism, or that your reader can simply\u00a0<em>enjoy <\/em>the text, i.e., be entertained by it. What I want to argue is that such forms are <em>not<\/em> academic.<\/p>\n<p>The essay is one way to occasion criticism. Here claims are made and supported, preferably one claim to a paragraph, each providing the basis on which the claim is made. This is a very common form in academia because it is very effective, but I don&#8217;t want to rule out alternatives. I just want to maintain some sense of the &#8220;essence&#8221; of scholarly writing. A form becomes \u201cacademic\u201d when it frames a critical practice, when it becomes a manner of giving and taking criticism. To say of a statement (in whatever medium) that it is \u201cacademic\u201d, we might say, is merely to say it is open to criticism from peers.<\/p>\n<p>In her response, Julia raised a couple of important issues. First, she pointed out that I&#8217;m letting the\u00a0<em>intention\u00a0<\/em>behind a text determine whether or not it is academic, and intentions are not always as simple and pure as I seem to think. &#8220;What if you are writing with the intention of being published &#8230; \u00a0or pass an exam, for example, but have no intention to engage in discussion (as is the case with many academics)?&#8221; she asks. &#8220;Would that kind of writing still be academic?&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>My answer is that, no, \u00a0\u201cgetting published\u201d or \u201cpassing an exam\u201d does not count as an \u201cacademic\u201d intention. But it\u2019s also not the proper intentionality of most texts written by either students or scholars. I would say that a text that says&#8211;i.e., means&#8211;<em>only<\/em> that it wants to get published, or that it should get a good grade, should get neither. That is, if, no other sense can be made of the text than, &#8220;I want an A in this course&#8221; then that text must receive an F. Such a text is of course hard to imagine anyone actually handing in and most writers, thankfully, have mixed motives.<\/p>\n<p>Moreover, we should distinguish psychological from textual intention, or the actual from the implied author. The psychology of the actual writer doesn\u2019t make or break the \u201cacademicity\u201d of the text. The fact that the writer is seeking personal fame or fortune matters less than the means the writer users to that end. The question is what relationship is established between the authorial persona and its implied reader. This relationship is a construct. It\u2019s constructed. It\u2019s what the craft is about.<\/p>\n<p>Julia also worried about the negative connotation of a &#8220;critical&#8221; occasion. She prefers, she says, &#8220;the term \u2018critique\u2019 to the term \u2018criticism\u2019: the latter connotes confrontation, hostility, and belligerence; the former, intellectual respect, thoughtful engagement, and precision.&#8221; This, I want to acknowledge, is a serious and common objection to the traditional posture of academic writing, so its worth dealing with head-on.<\/p>\n<p>I begin with somewhat different connotations, however. I take \u201ccritique\u201d in a Kantian sense, as the revelation of the conditions of the possibility of an object of knowledge. And I think of \u201ccriticism\u201d more as in \u201cliterary criticism\u201d, i.e., a weighing of the strengths and weaknesses of the work against exemplars of masterwork in the relevant tradition.<\/p>\n<p>I very definitely want to maintain opportunities for \u201cconfrontation\u201d. Outright hostility is obviously not desirable, but it has to be possible to offer a <em>corrective<\/em> to someone\u2019s point of view. It has to be possible to tell a peer that they are wrong about something. My notion of criticism includes that possibility; indeed, it reserves a place of honor for it.<\/p>\n<p>We might say that I think of academic writing as almost essentially defined by the possibility of being wrong. That possibility should not feel threatening to academics. On the contrary, academia is constituted by the <em>right<\/em> to be wrong, and this right comes with the obligation to listen to one\u2019s peers. Someone who takes any suggestion that they are, or even might be, in error as an act of hostility is not taking an \u201cacademic\u201d stance. The academic\u00a0produces a text that is \u201copen\u201d to criticism: it is ready to be shown wrong by other knowledgeable people. That rhetorical posture is central to my definition of &#8220;academic&#8221;.<\/p>\n<p>Much depends, as Julia rightly points out, on how we define our &#8220;peers&#8221;. In most cases of academic writing, however, there is no need to overthink this. The peer group can be confined for all practical purposes to a handful of people, maybe ten or twenty of them, whose names are known. Obviously, the text will have many more (or many less) readers than we imagine. But we know\u00a0who to <em>imagine<\/em>, who we are thinking of when we write. And the text will be judged relative to those readers&#8217; expectations.\u00a0For first year students, it might be helpful to imagine the other people in the class. I truly believe a lot could be won by getting students to tell each other what they have learned in the course, rather than trying to tell their teachers. For more senior scholars, the literature review is supposed to identify the relevant peer group. In any case, all academic writing should be done with a pretty finite list of names in mind and awareness of what knowledge they bring with them to reading.<\/p>\n<p>Start with what you know. Then imagine saying it in a way that makes sense to someone else who knows it. A way that allows them to critically engage with your ideas. If you don&#8217;t know the name of even one person who is qualified to show you that you are wrong, what you&#8217;re doing is probably not &#8220;academic&#8221;. But I&#8217;m willing to consider counter-examples, of course.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>This is a good question that Julia Molinari has asked over at the Doctoral Writing SIG blog. (See my previous post inspired by that one.) I have posted some comments on that post and Julia has been kind enough to respond. I thought I&#8217;d just re-post the essence of the exchange here as well, elaborating &hellip; <a href=\"https:\/\/inframethodology.cbs.dk\/?p=926\" class=\"more-link\">Continue reading <span class=\"screen-reader-text\">What Makes Writing &#8220;Academic&#8221;?<\/span> <span class=\"meta-nav\">&rarr;<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-926","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inframethodology.cbs.dk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/926","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inframethodology.cbs.dk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inframethodology.cbs.dk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inframethodology.cbs.dk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inframethodology.cbs.dk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=926"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/inframethodology.cbs.dk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/926\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":929,"href":"https:\/\/inframethodology.cbs.dk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/926\/revisions\/929"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inframethodology.cbs.dk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=926"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inframethodology.cbs.dk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=926"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inframethodology.cbs.dk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=926"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}