Writing as a Practice: Rules Depend (Part three)

Context changes how one should apply rules and principles in writing. Depending on the discipline, audience, length, format and purpose of a piece of writing, aspects like tone, diction and grammar rules may change. Practice allows a writer to better assess the situation and apply writing rules appropriately.

Let’s take an example of a blog and book, both written about alternatives to traditionally-raised beef, and compare how the format and purpose of the writing changes how each author writes. In an edgy blog about San Francisco, “The Bold Italic,” writer Jason Ditzian describes a vegetarian “Impossible Burger” with phrases like “back in the day, I loved me some burgers” and “hype-wise, ‘The Impossible Burger’ is nothing less than the Tesla of Food.” (thebolditalic.com) Using clever, made-up constructions like “hype-wise” or colloquialisms like “back in the day” reflect the casual nature of this blog and its implicit purpose: to attract readers with information in a concise, entertaining format. In this context, the rules of formal writing may not be relevant. Where you might avoid hyperbole, invented terms or informal language in an application essay, the context of this blog article welcomes these catchy and comfortable parlances. In writing, tone refers to the attitude of the writer towards their audience. Here, Ditzian’s tone suggests he wants to elicit a laugh or sound familiar more than demonstrate seriousness through perfect grammar or advanced vocabulary.  

By contrast, food journalist Michael Pollan addresses alternative beef-production in TheOmnivore’s Dilemma with phrases like “raised together in an intensive rotational dance on the theme of symbiosis” or “a new, alternative food chain was taking shape in this country, and this seemed to me an unalloyed good.” (p 133, 126) Pollan’s tone aligns with the format: long and journalistic. He can reasonably expect an audience of engaged and bright readers to take the time to understand his content and appreciate poetic language. Like Ditzian, Pollan probably also wants his readers to enjoy themselves and he seems to have succeeded as The Omnivore’s Dilemma sat on the New York Times Best Seller’s List for 127 weeks following its publication in 2006. However, Pollan may choose his terms differently than Ditzian, challenging some readers to remember what “unalloyed” means (total, utter) and calling up somewhat specialized knowledge in “symbiosis,” the kind of term that most of us learned in biology class but may not use in everyday conversation.

While these two writings on beef (or fake beef) differ in many ways, they do share other writing principles, like their use of metaphor. Where a “Tesla” builds up the meaning of an “Impossible Burger” in Ditizan’s writing, the imagery of a “dance” builds up the meaning of crop and animal rotation in Pollan’s writing. Thus, the principle that using comparison or metaphor can deepen description holds up in both situations. But aspects of writing like diction (word choice) and the complexity of ideas vary.

While Pollan and Ditzian address relatively public or non-disciplinary audiences, academic writing is often directed at disciplinary audiences. When one writes a scholarly journal article for a chemistry publication, they should be aware of the common knowledge, jargon and intellectual expectations of the field of chemistry. Likewise, writing an application essay for a law program requires awareness of the common knowledge, jargon and intellectual expectations of law. In general, the disciplinary context of a piece of writing dictates how and how much to explain things. For example, if you were applying to a graduate program in computer science, you may not include the term “cosmesis” (restoration of bodily beauty) without a short explanation, but if you were applying to a biotechnology program, you may assume that your audience knows what the term means. Likewise, in the field of landscape architecture, an applicant could assume that their audience would know what “phytoremediation” (using plants to decontaminate soil or water) means, but an audience of doctors may need more explanation.

The same awareness of disciplinary knowledge applies when referring to people or projects in one’s field. While an applicant should focus on their own work and ideas for an admissions essay, it is not uncommon to reference other notable work or practitioners to contextualize their own work and ideas. In architecture, one could refer to Louis Kahn without having to add that he was a 20th-century American architect, but outside of architecture, some explanatory aside may be necessary. In physics or chemistry, one could refer to the scientist Fermi (Enrico Fermi) without having to add that he was a physicist who designed the first nuclear reactor, but outside of the sciences one would likely include some similar explanation. Of course, some projects or figures break out of disciplinary knowledge: Albert Einstein, Malala Yousafzai, and Frank Lloyd Wright may qualify as “household names” or names so well-known that they are as likely to come up over dinner as in a college seminar. To start, a good writer builds up an awareness that audiences differ in background knowledge. And while one cannot perfectly predict what a reader knows, reading within your discipline and being aware of disciplinary values and common knowledge can help you present references appropriately.

Even more objective rules about essay organization or grammar can depend on the situation. For example, a core principle in academic writing in the US is that you would state your main idea at the beginning of the essay, in the first paragraph. However, in some cases, an essay may include an image or “hook” that draws the reader in quickly before the main idea is stated, and sometimes this hook works best as its own paragraph. In this case, you would not be stating the main idea in the first paragraph, and so would be breaking this principle. However, if the first paragraph is short, and the main idea is stated early in the second paragraph, the spirit of the rule – that you let the reader know your main idea early – is maintained. An experienced writer should be able to adjust the rule to particular circumstances like these. To take a grammar example, using “And” and “But” at the beginning of a sentence is widely accepted today, but it’s unadvisable to do this for an application essay. The essay could be read by a professor with conservative or outdated views on grammar. Unlike writing for coursework, an application essay does not give you the opportunity to rebuttal and the professor may wrongly assume you were sloppy and factor this judgment into their evaluation. Therefore, sometimes an application essay must err more on the side of caution. After all, you want to be judged for your ideas and potential, not for your view on a slightly controversial grammar issue. Other grammar rules may vary slightly in different contexts and it’s helpful to expect that not all grammar rules are universal.

As you speak differently to a friend and a professor, you should adjust your writing to different audiences and situations. Many writing rules and principles will serve you well, but always be aware of the context: who you are writing to, what they already know, how long you have their attention and what’s at stake in that communication. Practicing by reading and writing will sharpen your ability to judge what rules and principles to employ and when. Confidence follows.

In upcoming resource articles, we’ll delve into some of these fundamental principles. Until then, be curious, thoughtful and integrous!