What is Good Writing?

There are buckets of useful guides, bits of advice, wives’ tales and whatnot on how to write. There are also terrible versions of them all. Over the past few years, I collected the best of the former and always meant to put them somewhere.

This short note first considers why we write and why its quality matters. It then ponders what good writing actually is and ends with practicable advice on how you can write clearly and with vigour.

“The written word is a recent invention that has left no trace in our genome and must be laboriously acquired throughout childhood and beyond.”

1. Why do we write (at work) and does its quality matter?

Maybe this is an obvious question — but often I read things I suspect the author would have no good to answer if asked. We write because we want to be read. We want to be read because we want the world to be different as a result of communicating something. This is an important part of our, and many other, jobs.

Knowing who your intended reader is and the reason you’re writing to them is a vital first step for your prose to succeed. How you write will differ depending on these two variables.

Skipping who we write for as usually being an easy question to answer, the most important reasons we create text is to:

• explain complicated matters to busy people (slides, long boring documents no one ever reads, research papers);
• enable someone to take a decision (business cases, memos);
• give direction to others (emails, memos, formal papers, instant messenger);
• prepare for or record the outcome of a meeting; and
• communicate to the public (Twitter, Facebook, press releases, statistical releases, newspaper articles).

If you accept writing is (for now, at least) unavoidable then the better you write the better you can do your job. If you need more convincing to consider how well you write, doing so will mean you can:

• convince more people you are right (I assume you are);
• ensure you give clear, simple and unambiguous advice;
• avoid confusion, wasted time and mistakes;
• create inspiring stories to explain your thinking, to bring people with you and communicate direction; and
• give people simple instructions for others to follow.

2. Is there such a thing as “good writing”?

Yes: it’s writing that does the job it needs to (see 1) with the minimum of fuss by the reader that they enjoy. A good story, well written.

We can all agree there is such a thing as bad writing, you’ve no doubt seen some. It’s when the author fails in his or her presumed intention to communicate something because it is confusing, boring, irritating or worse.

“People have strong opinions on the quality of language today. They write books and articles deploring it, fire off letters to editors and call in to radio talk shows. I have found few of these objections single out clarity, grace or coherence. Their concerns are usually claims of “correct usage” — the supposed rules of ‘proper English’”.

We will thankfully never be able to define perfect writing. Sheepishly following every rule and tip that follows is not the point. Empathy for your reader and the humility that perhaps your last email wasn’t your best will give you a better chance to keep slowly improving, forever.

Everyone can be a good writer but it requires effort. Writing is a skill and a craft. Do not expect instant results, instead think of this as a journey where the scenery keeps improving but you never reach your destination.

You need to want to write well and you will need to care about how your writing impacts others. Bad writing is a form of pollution — its harm rarely impacts you directly.

3. How to write a little better

The remainder of this short note covers the four ways I think matter most in writing well. They are:

1. structure your thinking and your writing;
2. edit your work and check you’ve followed some simple rules;
3. write in the Classical Style (see below) and find your own voice; and
4. read lots of good writing.

1. Structure

Clear writing needs clear thinking and something to say. I can’t help you on the latter. But a good structure will help the former because it enables your reader to follow your argument in a logical way so they don’t get lost.

This sub-section considers three different approaches to structure your thinking and thus your writing: (a) hierarchy, (b) argumentation and © storytelling. It ends with a few words on how to create them.

(a) Hierarchy

What do you see when you look at a tree? Those leaves are the end point of a complicated hierarchy that all leads to one trunk. The same with this most simple way to structure your writing. The point you are making or the ground you need to cover can be logically broken down by following two simple, connected, rules known as “ME-CE” (mee-see):

• Mutually Exclusive: each part of the structure deals with each part of the narrative just once (this requires a lot of thoughts about what the best way to divide up what you are trying to say).
• Collectively Exhaustive: your structure covers the whole of the issue or problem you are addressing.

It sounds fancy but think of a pizza: each slice is mutually exclusive from another and unless someone has eaten one, when you put all the slices together it makes one whole pizza and no more (sadly).

The hard parts of creating a tree-like structure are deciding which criteria you divide your argument by (how should you slice a square pizza?) and ensuring all the sub-branches are each themselves MECE. This is often difficult and time consuming so people do not take the care to check which makes the work of the reader much harder.

(b) Argumentation

Structure can flow from the strength of the evidence at your disposal which in turn can help decide the method with which you make your assertion. This is sometimes referred to as “top down thinking” or the “pyramid principle”. There are three main forms of argumentation:

• Deductive reasoning: leads to a conclusion based on joining together two or more statements using bullet-proof logic. “If these things are true, then this must be true.” The structure would follow the steps of this logic.
• Inductive reasoning: leads to an inference based on multiple examples — the weight of evidence. “If these things are true then it is likely this is true.” This is weaker than deductive but it might be all you can do. Ways to group this argument are by time, some organic order or by a ranking. The structure would be grouped by the different examples you have which together add up to your argument.
• Abductive reasoning: leads to a hypothetical conclusion in need of a test based on a specific case joined together with an existing set of observations. “Based on this case and wider observations, our theory is that…” The structure would start with an observation that needs explaining, a hypothesis as to why this is and then a conclusion.

(c) Storytelling

Another method to structure your writing is to think about the steps needed to tell an engaging story. There is a reason we watch films, read books and like our funny uncle: our brains are wired to enjoy a good tale.

A tried and tested structure is the SCoRE method which stands for: Situation, Complication, Resolution, Example. The aim is to create and resolve tension to keep the reader’s interest though setting out a “complication” (we need to keep kids in school as much as possible but also reduce infection”) with its “resolution” (we will test all children many times a week). Start with a brief “situation” to explain once why we need to discuss this topic and on with the complication. Adding an example will bring the problem and solution to life. You can repeat the complication-resolution cycle as many times as necessary to tell your story.

(If you are interested, this is one of five elements that many say are necessary to give a brilliant presentation: logic, rhetoric (the SCoRE method), graphics, politics and metrics.)

Creating your structure

Do not start writing until you know what you want to say and have created your structure. If you do, you will probably be using the act of writing to figure these things out and that’s usually not productive. Spending time collecting and organising your thoughts always pays dividends. Invest more time at this stage than you think you need; you will rarely regret it. Not putting sufficient time into structuring and thinking is probably the most frequent cause of bad writing.

Use a favourite pen and paper, a simple bulleted list in any word processor or a special application: there are broadly two types: outlining applications and mind mapping tools (some do both). If you are telling a story then “story-boarding” by creating a cartoon can be helpful — and fun.

A final word on structure. Only clumsy writers unthinkingly follow the advice to “say what you’re going to say, say it, and then say what you’ve said.” The same can be said for summaries and conclusions — be sure they add value. Previews that read like a scrunched-up table of contents are there to help the writer, not the reader. And conclusions more often than not either prove you didn’t need to write all the other stuff, or annoy the reader by making them read it twice.

“You would never announce to a companion, “I’m going to say three things to you. The first thing I’m going to say is that a woodpecker has just landed on that tree.”

3. Style

Rules of thumb, grammar and punctuation might be helpful in their way, but they are nothing compared to writing with style. This section draws heavily (steals) from a book by Francis-Noél Thomas and Mark Turner which defines a way of writing called Classic Style.

Classic style is not the only way to write. But “it’s an ideal that can pull writers away from many of their worst habits, and it works particularly well because it makes the unnatural act of writing seem like two of our most natural acts: talking and seeing.” It aims to align language with the truth, the proof of success being clarity and simplicity. It is an antidote for acadamese, bureaucratese, corporatese, legalese, officialese and other kinds of stuffy prose.

Do not forget you have the curse of knowledge. The reader does not know what you do and you must imagine yourself to be them. Always ask someone to read your drafts.

Quoting the above mentioned book, the attributes of classic style include:

• The writer knows the truth before putting it into words; he is not using the occasion of writing to sort out what he thinks. The writer does not have to argue for the truth; he just needs to present it.
• It is not a contemplative or romantic style, in which a writer tries to share his idiosyncratic, emotional, and mostly ineffable reactions to something. Nor is it a prophetic, oracular, or oratorical style, where the writer has the gift of being able to see things that no one else can, and uses the music of language to unite an audience. Writing in classic style, in contrast, takes whatever form and whatever length the writer needs to present an interesting truth. The classic writer’s brevity comes from the elegance of his mind, never from pressures of time or employment.
• The things in the world the writer is pointing to are concrete: people (or other animate beings) who move around in the world and interact with objects. It minimises abstractions which cannot be seen with the naked eye. The writer is directing the gaze of the reader to something in the world she can see for herself.
• The writer has worked hard to find something worth showing and the perfect vantage point from which to see it.

“To write in genuine, familiar or truly English style, is to write as anyone would speak in common conversation who had a thorough command or choice of words or who could discourse with ease, force and perspicuity setting aside all pedantic and oratorical flourishes.”

George Orwell’s six rules of good writing

1. “Never use a metaphor, simile, or other figure of speech which you are used to seeing in print.”
2. “Never use a long word where a short one will do.” A word is never better by dint of its length. This is a weird British class-based legacy. Use the shortest word but sometimes a little variety goes a long way. Don’t try to show off: utilise (use); demonstrate (show); implement (deliver); establish (start) etc.
3. “If it is possible to cut a word out, always cut it out.” Aim for clarity and energy.
4. “Never use the passive where you can use the active.” He was hit by Tom / Tom hit him. Pinker does permit a role for the passive but you justify its use as it makes things intellectually taxing and wordy. That does not include submissions.
5. “Never use a foreign phrase, a scientific word, or a jargon word if you can think of an everyday English equivalent.”
6. “Break any of these rules sooner than say anything outright barbarous” (will leave this to your judgement).

Ernest Hemingway had his own rules

1. Use short sentences and short paragraphs: insert facts, create images, evoke emotions and create promises. “For sale: baby shoes, never worn”
2. Use vigorous English. “It’s the difference between putting in a good effort and trying to move a boulder… and actually sweating, grunting, straining your muscles to the point of exhaustion… and moving the freaking thing!”
3. Be positive, not negative. By stating what something isn’t can be counterproductive since it is still directing the mind, albeit in the opposite way. If I told you that dental work is painless for example, you’ll still focus on the word “pain” in “painless.”

The Economist’s Style Guide has some typically terse rules

1. Do not be stuffy: be readily understandable and use everyday speech.
2. Do not be hectoring or arrogant: persuade, do not tell. Go easy on
3. oughts and should.
4. Do not be too pleased with yourself.
5. Do not be too chatty.
6. Do not be too didactic.
7. Do not be sloppy in the construction of your sentences and paragraphs (be concise, lucid and use correct grammar).

Some other useful rules

Avoid adverbs. More is less (very, extremely, highly).

Be clear who you are talking about (it, they, she, the Minister, the public).

Capitals: avoid unless you know you ought to use them (proper nouns). If in doubt, don’t. Some people capitalise because they are worried it should be a Capital and they think it’s better to be Wrong rather than wrong (like the department or the government). There are ministers and the Minister. It is Parliament and Prime Minister seems to have stuck (as long as you are referring to the one we have not the fact Britain has a prime minister.

Don’t hide or dodge things: almost, apparently, comparatively, fairly, in part, nearly, partially, predominantly, presumably, rather, relatively, seemingly, so to speak, somewhat, sort of, to a certain degree, to some extent, most, nearly all. Instead, qualify: on average, all things being equal, 10 per cent, four in five, on the weekend, during the 20th century.

Avoid emotive language (“serious”, “wrong”, stupid” etc.).

Lists come in two types but both start with a colon:

• the first start with a lower case letter and, end with a semicolon;
• the penultimate entry adds; and
• the last one ends with a full stop.
• Longer bullet points or numbered lists are easier to read if they start with a capital and end with a full stop. Never mix them.

Avoid metadiscourse, that is, a word or phrase that comments on what is in the sentence, usually as an introductory adverbial clause. It is any phrase that is included within a clause or sentence that goes beyond the subject itself, often to examine the purpose of the sentence or a response from the author. Metadiscourse includes phrases such as “frankly,” “after all,” “on the other hand,” “to our surprise,” “note that”, “therefore”, however”.

Avoid nominalisation and gerunds (no, I don’t know what they mean either). Don’t ruin a nice crisp verb with -ance, -ment, -ation, or -ing.

Punctuation. Rarely use a semicolon; you need to br sure of yourself. Colons are followed by a lower case letter: We are not American. Use dashes ( — ) and hyphens (-) appropriately and rarely. Dashes are a fashionable pause or break — do not overuse them, especially. Hyphen join-up words. Know your James’s from your James’. You rarely improve things (with these). You don’t need “&”, you’re not a sign maker.

Avoid ridiculous jargon. Add your own to this list: key (unless it really unlocks something), going forwards, leaning in, spinning up, blah blah blah.

Avoid things that do not exist. “Could you recognize a “level” or a “perspective” if you met one on the street? Could you point it out to someone else? What about an approach, an assumption, a concept, a condition, a context, a framework, an issue, a model, a process, a range, a role, a strategy, a tendency, or a variable?”

3. Edit, edit, edit

The Beatles did 26 takes of Strawberry Fields Forever before they were happy. Why would you think you were so good at writing it doesn’t need to be checked?

And yet, how many times have you re-read your emails, submissions or whatever to ensure it’s as clear and simple as can be? Be honest. Do you always ask someone else to read your important documents to ensure they understand it? How often do you tear down your structure and rebuild it when you realise it’s not quite working?

“I write one page of masterpiece to ninety-one pages of shit,” Hemingway confided to F. Scott Fitzgerald in 1934. “I try to put the shit in the wastebasket.”

Edit, then. It makes a huge improvement. Use the rules below when you do but most importantly listen as if you were a new reader. Will they see, hear, smell and feel what you are telling them?

What follows is a few of the best rules to make quick improvements to your prose. Listen, though, when Stephen Pinker says the best writers never read style guides, in fact “they often make the quality of prose worse.” Watch his speech and read his book.

Edit for brevity. One of the most egregious word crimes I see, is a ubiquitous use of throat clearing and clutter, which are nearly always usually a sign of someone thinking whilst writing, that is, they didn’t spend enough time thinking about what to say or how to structure how they say it. These are all examples of unnecessary phrases I’ve seen recently:

In the event that; for instance; in so far as; as well as; is due to be; as of the; not withstanding; on the basis that; also; that could be; in essence; with the aim to; has been that it would be; this is where they; in the first place; as a result; I was better able to; at times; to be able to; in order to; still; this means; both/either; has to be; a number of; at any point; for a while; is that it is; take a view on; have a good understanding of; will not be able to; and refers to the; be used to; nonetheless; in turn.

4. Read well

The more good writing you ingest the more you will appreciate the virtue of clear and simple prose and through literary osmosis, the better a writer you will be. Pinker goes as far as calling this a universal truth: read more; write better. The following are good places to start to read well-edited largely non-fiction writing:

• The New York Times
• The Economist
• London Review of Books
• The Browser
• The New Yorker
• The Atlantic

Don’t forget “good” fiction, either. I am reliably told these are some people that knew how to write:

• Ernest Hemmingway
• Evelen Waugh
• Virginia Wolf
• Vladimir Nabokov

OK reader — we’re done. One last thing: if you take what I have said too literally (structure, edit for brevity and using some rules, be more stylish and read a lot) you might think everyone will end up writing in the same way dulling the most interesting aspect of reading other people’s work. Not a bit of it: you must find your own voice.

You’re unique. No one has lived your life, no one has your thoughts, and no one will write like you do. The more you write the more you will hone your own style.