Longing for a recipe for success

This weekend marks the midpoint of the spring semester for both my college online courses. That's a good time for students to do some thinking about how they have been doing (and promising that THIS time they will not blow off any more assignments). 

It's also a good time for the teacher to think about how things are going, and to make adjustments, if needed. I have often wished there were some magic resources I could share with students that would inspire them and provide insights that could push them to that next level. 

There are almost limitless resources, but it turns out that wishing for a "magic recipe" that can produce consistently good writing is pointless. After all, if there really were a recipe that we could all follow, then wouldn't we just DO THAT? 

But on this Friday, awaiting Snowmageddon, my midterm analysis comes down to a fairly simple statement, and one that I have been thinking about for many years: Show, don't tell.

I know these three words have become a cliché, but a cliché persists due to some basic truth it contains. Over the years I have found all sorts of more sophisticated strategies and tactics for writers, but the simplicity of the "show, don't tell" directive just becomes more appealing each year.

Here's a small portion of one recent essay written as a reaction to a short video by Simon Sinek that discusses Millennials and how the workplace needs to adjust to that generation's unique views:

I personally see some Millennials as "entitled, lazy, self-interested, and unfocused." This generation lacks leadership and accountability.

That's it. After that provocative claim, which promises personal observations that support those four adjectives -- quoting the video -- and ends with the sort of thesis that might lead to entire books... nothing.  The writer, who clearly has a lot of supporting data in mind and who has a decent command of language, chose to simply move on to another part of the analysis.

I have been repeating, "No claims without support," for eight weeks now, and I suspect that few college students have not heard those words or something related many times in their previous education. Yet this young writer felt comfortable with those two sentences making the point. This writer is hardly alone.

So why do so few writers (of any age) supply the all-important supporting details, statistics, anecdotes, and research to make their excellent claims persuasive?

One possibility is that most people hate writing so much that they just can't wait to finish, post, and forget the whole sorry business. "How many words do you want?" is the most common question I get from students about assignments. 

Another possibility is that the tools that successful writers take for granted, such as routinely adding a phrase like "for example" after a claim, have not yet been added to their "writer's toolbox." It seems likely that past teachers, from whatever subjects, have approved earlier writing by students that settles for claims and demands no expansion or explanation.

Since I have been observing this tendency to proudly share bold claims without evidence over nearly 45 years, maybe I should just get over it. 

But, as the old saying goes, "Lost causes are the only ones worth fighting for." 

"I personallyI personally see some millennials as “entitled, lazy, self interested and unfocused”. This generation lacks leadership and accountability. P

I personally see some millennials as “entitled, lazy, self interested and unfocused”. This generation lacks leadership and accountability.

I personally see some millennials as “entitled, lazy, self interested and unfocused”. This generation lacks leadership and accountability.