Surprise twists are the key to reader satisfaction in the right context: murder mystery novels, action thrillers, true crime exposés. None of those formats work without keeping readers in suspense until finally, the information that they want is revealed at the end of an expertly paced build-up.
But in academic writing? Not so much. Surprise twists just don’t work when clarity is our main objective. Instead, the key to great writing in this context is plenty of explicit signposting, so that readers can effortlessly follow your train of thought to its well-advertised destination.
That’s why the second shortcut to clarity that I want to share in this three-part series involves making your conclusion more of a headline instead.
Shortcut #2: Try moving the last sentence of a paragraph to become the first.
When we’re writing, we’re also thinking. Hence, we often write the way we think: developing and exploring ideas from various angles until we arrive at firm conclusions about them and what they mean. For this reason, that statement that you think needs so much preamble and explanation is typically the most important point that a paragraph makes.
Burying that vital point at the end of a paragraph or section gives the reader significant cognitive labor—namely, the work of figuring out where we’re going with these thoughts and how they relate to your overall arguments. You’d be surprised (or maybe you wouldn’t be if you’ve read a lot of academic writing yourself!) just how much work it is to hold seemingly disconnected thoughts and statements in mind until their relevance becomes clear.
So let’s remove that cognitive labor for the reader by giving them a clear signpost upfront.
Check out the following example of this shortcut in action, adapted from the discussion section of a paper I recently edited (with the writing significantly altered to disguise the actual topic):
… Our work makes many important contributions.
Supervisor shouting interrupts workers’ concentration on tasks. Our research found that workers’ concentration decreased when their supervisors shouted at them but stayed the same or even increased if supervisors did not shout. This finding runs contrary to past literature on concentration, which has largely suggested that supervisor shouting helps worker concentration as workers may feel renewed pressure to focus on their work. However, we posit that these findings ignore the negative effect of worker stress, and focus too heavily on the perceived benefits of frightening workers. Accordingly, when we accounted for worker stress levels in our study, we were able to show a direct correlation between supervisor shouting and decreased worker concentration. Thus, we contribute a better understanding of worker concentration to the literature on productivity.
Here’s a fun test: without scrolling back up to peek, try to remember one single sentence that you read before that last one. (If you can remember one, let alone two, you have an uncommonly retentive brain!)
Without a clear frame of reference, it’s virtually impossible to hold received information in our brains for long. So let’s give readers that frame of reference, moving the whole “point” of this paragraph to become its opening sentence:
… Our work makes many important contributions.
First, we contribute a better understanding of worker concentration to the literature on productivity. Specifically, we find that supervisor shouting interrupts workers’ concentration on tasks. Our research found that workers’ concentration decreased when their supervisors shouted at them but stayed the same or even increased if supervisors did not shout. This finding runs contrary to past literature on concentration, which has largely suggested that supervisor shouting helps worker concentration as workers may feel renewed pressure to focus on their work. However, we posit that these findings ignore the negative effect of worker stress, and focus too heavily on the perceived benefits of frightening workers. Accordingly, when we accounted for worker stress levels in our study, we were able to show a direct correlation between supervisor shouting and decreased worker concentration.
As you can see, we’ve moved just one sentence (from the bottom to the top) and added a couple extra organizing words in there (First… Specifically)—but the difference is dramatic. Now, the reader knows exactly what this paragraph is about (the contributions that our findings make to the literature) and how it fits into the overall section (it’s the first and main contribution). They also know that all the information they’re about to read supports and aligns with our main point (i.e., that this paper’s first important contribution to the literature is a better understanding of worker concentration). In short, we’ve done all the meaning-making for our readers, leaving them free to focus on what we’re actually saying.
This reverse-engineering-like approach can often be applied at an even higher level than paragraphs too; try moving the last paragraph of a section to become the first one, and see how it looks. Does it show readers where we’re going in a way that gives clearer meaning and relevance to everything that follows?
Lastly, it’s worth noting that this shortcut can only be done at the editing phase. In other words, it requires you to have a solid first draft already. This is one of the many reasons I’d recommend getting your thoughts down on paper as efficiently as you can (i.e., in a designated creating/writing phase), and then reorganizing for clarity. Trying to impose clarity on your writing as you write can simply delay the whole process, bringing a critical, stifling influence into your headspace when the most important goal is just to get something written.
In conclusion (pun intended), by moving your last sentence upfront, you invite readers to join you on a journey with the destination in sight, making it that much easier for them to find their way to your perspective. So consider flipping the script and leading with your conclusions—you may find that clarity has been hiding in plain sight the whole time.
-Catie Phares
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