Strategy 1: Writing with Philosphers

Photo by David Pennington on Unsplash

I have been thinking long and hard about how to say what I want to say about our approach to writing instruction. I have so many friends and colleagues who have devoted their lives to this foundational piece of every general education curriculum, and I have a deep respect for their knowledge. I also know that they have worked very hard to meet the challenge of writing instruction for a society that no longer privileges reading or writing, at least not in the way that leads to polished prose and strong arguments. Any media ecologist can tell you that our communication environment is a distracting beast, urging us to jump from post to post, Tik-Tok to You-Tube, rant to rant, truly Amusing Ourselves to Death. (See Neil Postman, 1985).

Given all of these distractions, what I am about to suggest seems unfair to those intrepid faculty who endeavor to help students figure out how to write in way that reflects agreed upon college level expectations. I apologize in advance, but here goes: It is time to put writing instruction in the hands of the philosophy department.

As I flinch from the collective howl, let me lay out my case for why this needs to happen. First, in the current form, writing instruction is devalued by everyone but the people teaching it. Second, writing instruction does not serve anyone well when it is disconnected from a specific context. Third, writing instruction should support the development of logical reasoning. Fourth, logical reasoning must be connected to ethics.

The Devalued Discipline: Most general education programs have a two-course sequence in writing. Typically, there is a basic course called English/Composition/Writing 101, which will focus on approaches to writing, some grammar, perhaps citations, and information literacy. In some cases, there will be an emphasis on self-discovery as a writer, in others there might be an effort to explore some basic logic. Composition part two usually delves deeper into academic writing (research papers) and is sometimes linked to the student's major in the form of a writing intensive course. The fact that writing is always included in the college curriculum suggests that there is agreement that being able to write is important. I could not agree more. But the conversations around writing instruction and the ways in which the courses are staffed tell a different story.

The staffing of courses focused on writing instruction largely consists of part-time faculty and graduate assistants, especially in Composition 101. I am well aware that there are many talented graduate assistants and part-time faculty doing a great job in these classes, but the decision to staff this way is revealing. In choosing to use foundational writing as a place for cost savings, we see that these courses are deemed basic, and not in need of faculty with a depth of knowledge about writing. In short, it is deemed too basic to require extensive knowledge of the field.

This staffing strategy implies that these courses are about technical skills. To some degree they are. Like the scales required in Piano I, introductory writing should focus on technique. But the piano students quickly connect scales to songs that are parts of the repertoire of their ensembles or their solo performances. That is, they are connected to the students' passion for music. In writing courses, the foundations are not connected to discipline. This weakens the impact, making the course a chore to be completed, without a vision for a longer-term benefit. The language of "get that course out of the way" is not uncommon. Neither is the frustration of faculty in other disciplines who wonder why students are able to pass Writing I and still not be proficient in academic writing. Without cultivating a vision for a longer term benefit, this approach to writing instruction is doomed to mediocre outcomes at best.

Decontextualized Writing: When we approach introductory writing courses as technical courses divorced from a discipline, we make writing too abstract. Despite the efforts to frame writing courses as places for discovery (of the self), as avenues to develop critical thinking skills (basic rhetorical strategies), or as opportunities to experiment with form and genre (creative), a writing course without a direct link to specific content is a difficult beast. Some professors will choose a theme, selecting a variety of readings to explore as students endeavor to engage those themes in a series of writing assignments. Although this is a helpful strategy, it is often experienced as problematic from the student perspective. While some are fine with whatever theme the professor poses, others like to select courses based on interests, and they feel disempowered by the theme presented. In other cases, students are asked to generate their own topics, but first-year students are frequently ill-equipped for making good decisions on their own. They will struggle to decide on a through-line for the semester and end up confused about the expectations for writing. Some professors invite students to write about things in their major, but this often backfires because the language of the major is not well known to the professor. In short, the technical frame without a connection to a specific topic is not doing the work for students that it should. Like the experience of algebra for so many students, writing is something to be passed, not internalized.

Making an Argument: If you review the curriculum in most composition programs (MA or PHD), you will see that there is a focus on rhetoric. Indeed, most programs are called Composition and Rhetoric. In these programs rhetorical theory is defined in a variety of ways, but at its core is the notion of organizing language to support an idea or proposition. Ideas can be expressed in a variety of genres and, given the link to the study of literature that is typical of those who pursue composition degrees, much of the exploration of rhetoric will be revealed in treasured works of literature. This is a perfectly good approach to developing writing instruction for people who will study literature (and other narrative media like film), but it falls short for general education. Why? Because, in addition to the decontextualization problem described above, this approach is short on logic and long on genre. We need to make a shift.

In order to engage students from many disciplines in a serious effort to become competent writers, we should focus less on genre (save that for later) and more on the structure of arguments. Instead of Writing 101, the first writing course should be Informal Logic. This, of course, is the home of the philosophers.

Informal logic offers a great opportunity to help students prepare for writing in many disciplines. Its focus on syllogisms, fallacies, and logical contradictions can help students declutter their thinking and empower them to make good cases for things they care about. Classes in informal logic are wonderful opportunities for students to evaluate current events, ad campaigns, campus issues, and other short form persuasive tracts. Although not connected to their disciplines, it is wide open to meaningful engagement with issues that directly impact students' lives. Informal logic courses are great places to foster group work through short debates. This allows students to test their arguments and hear other points of view. Evaluating arguments, both through diagraming and through refutation, is an opportunity to practice developing clear and concise prose. These also require students to develop skills in research and assessing the credibility of sources. The many short analyses should build to a longer form argument by the end of the course, one that reflects the skills developed in the shorter assignments.

Ethics? Yes, ethics. Teaching proficient writing through informal logic should not be devoid of a grounding in ethics. In a world that daily illustrates the concerns about rhetoric raised by Socrates in Gorgias (Plato), we do not want our students educated to win arguments through techniques; we want them to try to discover truths or principles through honest evaluation. Hiding a contradictory piece of evidence, or featuring debunked research are frequent paths to "winning" arguments and shaping public opinion. This may win elections, but it is a lousy way to build confidence in the decisions we need to make every day: decisions about careers, health care, environmental policies, and so on. So, writing instruction cannot just be technique, even when situated in the evaluation of arguments; it must be grounded in ethical reasoning.

If you are now thinking this is too much for one course, you are right. Although we may touch on honesty as a core value for good arguments in course one, a deep dive into ethics should be the second writing course. Here students will read from a variety of texts about how we determine what is fair, right, just, or reasonable. This is also the home of our philosophers as well as our religious scholars. All students should grapple with the kinds of thinking that courses in ethics explore, and they should continue to apply their knowledge of argument structure and college-level writing in these classes. Texts on ethics can be challenging, so the faculty involved should think deeply about introductory and advanced levels of texts to assign. Nevertheless, students should grapple with them. I will add that there is no need for all of the discipline-specific ethics courses. A broad understanding of ethics is what should drive ethical decision making in science, health care, communication, and business. Let's let the philosophers and religious scholars do this work; they have the depth in discipline we need.

So, what is left? Well, of course our philosophy faculty will need training in writing instruction. Some of the work of those Composition and Rhetoric programs will have to be folded into our graduate degrees in philosophy. Relocating foundational writing instruction to the philosophy department does not erase the skills that my colleagues in writing programs possess. So, for those philosophers already teaching, we will need to develop a sequence of courses to develop their understanding of both the technical aspects of writing, and the exploration of voice and self that is so evident in the approaches to writing instruction supported by English faculty. For those studying philosophy now, we need to revise their programs to include writing instruction from the start.

As for those who have been teaching Composition I & II all along, there is plenty of other genre work to do - journalism, business writing, white papers, fiction, science writing, scripts, and so on. These will connect students to their disciplines and allow focused attention to a single form. These courses remain essential to the college curriculum, and they allow faculty to lean into their specialties with the depth of knowledge they bring to these forms.

Finally, grounding introductory writing instruction in informal argument and ethics is not just a path to improving student engagement with writing, it is the foundation for all of their subsequent courses. This is one of the primary purposes of "general" education. Writing in the abstract does not make the connection to later writing clear. Developing skills in writing well-constructed arguments will make writing and analysis in every other discipline better. Grounding those skills in ethics will provide a lens for evaluating evidence and decisions in every other discipline. And writing that is built on logical arguments and ethical reasoning is a better foundation for developing clear and concise prose, than writing without that foundation can ever be.

But most of all, writing well, with well-reasoned arguments grounded in an understanding of comparative ethics, or at least the roots of one's own values, is an essential part of developing skills in informed decision-making. And that, of course, is the point.