Stop the Paper Train!

When I hand in two papers today at 5 p.m. (knock on wood), I will have submitted a total of 138 pages of writing for classes this academic year. For each one of those pages, I'd estimate I spent about three hours reading, researching, outlining, writing and editing--a total of 414 hours, or 17 days, worth of work. And that's not even counting time for procrastination.

I don't object to having done all this work. Writing papers is, of course, one of the prime ways we digest information and ideas, and I even find it (at times) enjoyable. What does perturb me is the isolated, dead-end nature of the writing process here at Harvard. Paper-writing, rather than serving as an integral part of the learning process, all too often becomes something we do on our own, late at night, hunched in front of our computers, with one overriding goal: to just get it done. If my work habits fall toward the middle of the spectrum, this year alone Harvard students spent 2.7 million hours churning out this sort of work.

No matter how much time we put into our writing, in most classes the only person reading the product is an overworked teaching fellow (TF) with 30 other papers to get through. Indeed, of my 16 classes thus far (the vast majority of which have been in the social sciences) only once--in Expos--have I been exposed to what my fellow students were writing and vice versa.

It is true that some teaching fellows put in a great deal of effort to help students write good papers--discussing paper topics and offering research suggestions in advance, reading drafts along the way and writing lengthy, detailed comments at the end of the essay. Still, though these efforts may make us more interested in our work and surely enhance the learning process, there is only so much a TF can do. There is still an element missing--a community of readers.

What is needed is a wholesale change in the way papers are approached in Harvard classes. Rather than writing for a TF, we should be writing for ourselves. Rather than regurgitating information, we should be challenging and contesting ideas. Rather than putting our graded papers in the recycling bin, we should be proud of and academically invested in our own work long after final grades are submitted.

All of these critical improvements, I believe, can be achieved through one change in the system: have students read each others' writing. Professors and TFs should allot 20 minutes of the section near the time papers are assigned for students to throw around ideas for paper topics. Do the same as the deadline approaches, so that students may share research tips, discuss writing strategies and, in general, help one another produce work of a higher quality.

Then, most importantly, after papers are handed in, photocopy and distribute student papers to each student in the section, and label them assigned reading for the week. Devote the next section to a discussion of the essays. How did students' viewpoints on the same topic differ? What did we learn from the assignment? Unless these questions are raised, all the time invested in paper-writing soon becomes an uncherished memory.

Take Historical Study B-42: "The Civil War" as an example, a class which takes its paper assignment seriously. Students are expected to do original research with primary sources on a topic of their choosing; the paper is worth 25 percent of the final grade; several workshops are offered and handouts distributed on how to write a strong history paper. Still, although students spend countless hours in Gov Docs scanning hundreds of pages of 1860s newspapers, after the 10-15 page paper was done, the process was over. I argued that Jews in Cincinnati were both Americanized and solidified as a group as a result of the Civil War. What did William write about? Or Miriam?

Of course, time constraints in some classes could mean a different approach to creating this reading community. Instead, TFs might photocopy and distribute select student essays judged to be most compelling for discussion. At a bare minimum, TFs could compile a list of the theses students argued in their papers, and a discussion could take place without hard copies of students' work.

No matter how TFs might go about making the paper-writing process more interactive, important benefits would accrue. Student writers would look at their papers with more respect. The rationalizations that "Only my TF will see it, so I don't really care," or, "It's only 20 percent of my grade" would prove inadequate. The feeling of uselessness that comes from spending days and nights laboring for the sake of getting the paper done would be lessened as the audience is increased.

Students would also benefit on the receiving end. Rather than face yet another article by another historian or professor or theoretician, the classroom would be rejuvenated by the discussion of student work. Students would learn reap the benefits of each other's time, effort and thought, and their curiosity about what others had worked on would be sated. And we would be forced to develop the key skills of conveying and defending our arguments orally.

One sharp criticism of this proposal is that while the purpose of writing is not to write for the TF or for a grade, it is also not to write for an audience. Students should write for themselves and for the sake of their own education, one might claim. If they want to submit their essays for prizes or hand out copies for their friends and associates to read, they ought to be encouraged to do so. But to make academic writing into a shared classroom experience--to create a far-flung "community of readers"--would be to compromise the process and waste time.

Yet I see little wrong with the ends (students' reading each other's work) justifying the means (students working harder on their papers). Enlarging the audience would not change the mission of students' work; it would only push us as writers to invest more time and care in what we write. In this frenzied, time-pressed college atmosphere, incentives to focus on our work are essential.

Moreover, bringing writing into the classroom in this manner might fundamentally alter the learning environment over time. Students would come to consider each paper not as a requirement for the course but as a chance to make a worthwhile contribution to their own education and to the education of others.

Having students read each other's papers is a simple and logical change that, at little cost, could dramatically enhance the quality of the work we produce and the effectiveness of the classroom environment. When the stakes are as high as 2.7 million hours, it's a change that's certainly worth a try.

Geoffrey C. Upton, a sophomore living in Leverett House, is a Crimson editor.