Rough Drafts without Tears

Abstract

In facing their writing assignments, students in my introductory philosophy courses confront two primary obstacles. First, they often don’t have a feel for what sort of paper they are expected to write. They easily mistake an extended expression of opinion, or a replaying of assigned texts, for a philosophical essay. Second, although their abilities vary widely, most of them are not (yet) good writers. They have difficulties in both structuring and conveying their thoughts in written form. That students have these problems is hardly surprising. Most students do not read even nominal philosophy outside of class, and those who do read “popular” philosophy may, as a result, have even less of an idea as to how to present a good piece of solid reasoning. And although we may—often justly—bemoan inattention to the development of writing skills prior to enrollment at the university, we can hardly expect those skills to be fully developed by students early in their undergraduate careers. The first problem is addressed, to some extent, by simply having students read good philosophical works by professional philosophers, as well as by helping them to develop the skills necessary to understand such readings. Nonetheless, the gap between what students are likely to read (even in an introductory course) and what they can reasonably expect to write can be so large that assigned readings may be less helpful than one might hope. A student who doesn’t know where to begin in writing a philosophical essay might be helped very little by reading, say, Descartes’ Meditations or J. L. Mackie on the problem of evil. The second problem is most commonly addressed by direct writing instruction. I have found it useful in my own introductory courses to