As one who reads a lot of student essays, one source of frustration (though far from the worst) is the generally limp selection of titles that they put at the top of their papers. “Non-Discriminatory Representation in the House,” “Lincoln and Slavery,” “The Reign of Napoleon III,” and other mealy-mouthed efforts. And all this after I emphasize the importance of a catchy title to draw the reader in to the meat of the paper.
It's the flip side of what happens in the media where, “BREAKING NEWS,” flashes seemingly every hour in your news channel de jour, or even the NYT, whose headline writer creates hooks only nominally connected to the substance of the articles. To my mind, such “clickbait” is most often an invitation to intellectual disappointment.
I remind students that while I have to read their papers (regardless of title), the same will not be true for their written work for the rest of their lives (assuming they write anything longer than a 40-word text message), and that they should start now and get in the habit of thinking about how they want to convey the gist of their argument in the first (and perhaps only) words their potential readers might ever see. I tell them that their title should contain the gist of their thesis, so that the reader can see, at a glance, the subject matter and the direction of their argument. So, rewriting the student titles above, I might go for “Off its Foundations: The House of Representatives Doesn’t Represent the People,” or “A Man Divided: Lincoln’s Conflicting Views on Abolition,” or “Like Uncle, Like Nephew: How Napoleon III’s Dreams of Grandeur and His Ruin Echoed His Familial Role Model.” Puns, allusions, and twists on adages are but three of the techniques I suggest. At the least, I want them to think about their essay project and about their audience and see how they can connect them together.
Most academic writers at least make an effort in this direction, using the now standard format of [catchy words/phrase] : [more pedantic and substantive subtitle]. Admittedly, the bar is pretty low (excitement-wise) deep in the history stacks; but at least we’re trying….
The Economist, which I read regularly, is pretty aware of the challenges. Their articles have a lengthy history of puns (recently, e.g., a piece on the harmful effects of El Nino weather pattern is called: “Little Boy Blues,” and an analysis of the Chinese Communist Party’s clamp down on entrepreneurial spirit is offered under the title of “Firm Control.”) Now, as a long-standing punster (pundit), I am the first to acknowledge that this is not everyone’s taste, but at least they are making an effort to signal to the reader that they are a little “arch,” self-aware, and not taking themselves too smugly as the report on the doings of the world. They even have recently started a new weekly feature in which they explain how they picked the art for the cover of the weekly print edition. They’re thinking seriously about how they engage their readers; which can’t be a bad thing.
In my own academic writing, I’ve stuck with the standard structure, noted above; with scholarly titles too dry to repeat (and too obscure to explain) here. As I look around my history bookcases, I see that most titles are making some effort at engaging the reader. Books, of course, have spines and most publishers have PR departments, so there are some pressures to pick something pithy that fits; usually no more than three substantive words. Thankfully, we have left behind that titling conventions of an earlier era, where sometimes things got out of hand. Dickens great novel, which we know as “David Copperfield,” is actually titled: The Personal History, Adventures, Experience and Observation of David Copperfield the Younger of Blunderstone Rookery [Which He Never Meant to Publish on Any Account]. Academic article titles tend to be lengthy, a combination of an effort to explain their curious corner of discovery along with a desire, perhaps, to pad the length of that part of the author’s resume that lists their publications.
Here in blogland, I can be a bit more relaxed. Just drawing from this year, we see some puns (“Let’s talk Turkey,” “Of interest,” Sunset Boulevard”) some cultural allusions (“Time Warp,” “March Madness,” “This Old House”), and some mixed metaphors (“Half a Baby in the Hand”) alongside a slew of more mundane titles. But, I am writing to a group of older, pretty sophisticated folks for whom such semantic connections might resonate. (Some friends tell me that I’m already way too far down the road of obscurity for anyone to keep up. In any event, I’m pretty sure that they would go over the heads of my students.) And then I twist the allusion so that the actual topic nominally fits, but not as the first synaptic connection. “Time Warp” isn’t about “The Rocky Horror Picture Show,” (early election results reporting in the media), nor is “Sunset Boulevard” about an aging Hollywood star (making laws expire reasonably soon). In any event, you can be pretty sure that when you read the title of one of my blog posts, it’s unlikely to be about the first thing that comes to mind. I certainly enjoy the process of coming up with these ideas and, if they bring a wry smile to your face, and a sigh/groan…well, that’s not bad either (and more than I’m entitled to).
It's the flip side of what happens in the media where, “BREAKING NEWS,” flashes seemingly every hour in your news channel de jour, or even the NYT, whose headline writer creates hooks only nominally connected to the substance of the articles. To my mind, such “clickbait” is most often an invitation to intellectual disappointment.
I remind students that while I have to read their papers (regardless of title), the same will not be true for their written work for the rest of their lives (assuming they write anything longer than a 40-word text message), and that they should start now and get in the habit of thinking about how they want to convey the gist of their argument in the first (and perhaps only) words their potential readers might ever see. I tell them that their title should contain the gist of their thesis, so that the reader can see, at a glance, the subject matter and the direction of their argument. So, rewriting the student titles above, I might go for “Off its Foundations: The House of Representatives Doesn’t Represent the People,” or “A Man Divided: Lincoln’s Conflicting Views on Abolition,” or “Like Uncle, Like Nephew: How Napoleon III’s Dreams of Grandeur and His Ruin Echoed His Familial Role Model.” Puns, allusions, and twists on adages are but three of the techniques I suggest. At the least, I want them to think about their essay project and about their audience and see how they can connect them together.
Most academic writers at least make an effort in this direction, using the now standard format of [catchy words/phrase] : [more pedantic and substantive subtitle]. Admittedly, the bar is pretty low (excitement-wise) deep in the history stacks; but at least we’re trying….
The Economist, which I read regularly, is pretty aware of the challenges. Their articles have a lengthy history of puns (recently, e.g., a piece on the harmful effects of El Nino weather pattern is called: “Little Boy Blues,” and an analysis of the Chinese Communist Party’s clamp down on entrepreneurial spirit is offered under the title of “Firm Control.”) Now, as a long-standing punster (pundit), I am the first to acknowledge that this is not everyone’s taste, but at least they are making an effort to signal to the reader that they are a little “arch,” self-aware, and not taking themselves too smugly as the report on the doings of the world. They even have recently started a new weekly feature in which they explain how they picked the art for the cover of the weekly print edition. They’re thinking seriously about how they engage their readers; which can’t be a bad thing.
In my own academic writing, I’ve stuck with the standard structure, noted above; with scholarly titles too dry to repeat (and too obscure to explain) here. As I look around my history bookcases, I see that most titles are making some effort at engaging the reader. Books, of course, have spines and most publishers have PR departments, so there are some pressures to pick something pithy that fits; usually no more than three substantive words. Thankfully, we have left behind that titling conventions of an earlier era, where sometimes things got out of hand. Dickens great novel, which we know as “David Copperfield,” is actually titled: The Personal History, Adventures, Experience and Observation of David Copperfield the Younger of Blunderstone Rookery [Which He Never Meant to Publish on Any Account]. Academic article titles tend to be lengthy, a combination of an effort to explain their curious corner of discovery along with a desire, perhaps, to pad the length of that part of the author’s resume that lists their publications.
Here in blogland, I can be a bit more relaxed. Just drawing from this year, we see some puns (“Let’s talk Turkey,” “Of interest,” Sunset Boulevard”) some cultural allusions (“Time Warp,” “March Madness,” “This Old House”), and some mixed metaphors (“Half a Baby in the Hand”) alongside a slew of more mundane titles. But, I am writing to a group of older, pretty sophisticated folks for whom such semantic connections might resonate. (Some friends tell me that I’m already way too far down the road of obscurity for anyone to keep up. In any event, I’m pretty sure that they would go over the heads of my students.) And then I twist the allusion so that the actual topic nominally fits, but not as the first synaptic connection. “Time Warp” isn’t about “The Rocky Horror Picture Show,” (early election results reporting in the media), nor is “Sunset Boulevard” about an aging Hollywood star (making laws expire reasonably soon). In any event, you can be pretty sure that when you read the title of one of my blog posts, it’s unlikely to be about the first thing that comes to mind. I certainly enjoy the process of coming up with these ideas and, if they bring a wry smile to your face, and a sigh/groan…well, that’s not bad either (and more than I’m entitled to).
RSS Feed