I recently gave a lecture on writing to undergraduate law students. The title was “Structure in writing”, and I attempted to introduce them to both logical structure and story. At the end I asked them to write down what my lecture had left them wondering about structure in writing. We collected up their notes and I studied them at home. Their wonderings were interesting – e.g. Why is story more intriguing [than logical structure, presumably]? How can I integrate story and facts? How can I use stories to draw my reader in?
As always, it was the one critical comment that stuck most in my mind: “Why were you beating about the bush? This could have been covered in 30 minutes.” On my way home I pondered what this student had meant. Perhaps he or she felt impatient listening to my anecdotes. I had made a special effort to bring my lecture to life with tales from my own experience. For example, I told them how, when applying for the job of editor with the management consultants McKinsey back in 1987, I wrote a covering letter using what I understood to be the “McKinsey way of thinking” (logical structure), taking the specifications mentioned in the job ad as my starting point. I got the job, so maybe my logically-structured letter made a difference.
As I reflected on the student’s comment, I reflected that you can’t please everybody. Some want the general principles (or the ‘so whats?’ in McKinsey-speak) without any narrative detours, while others like some stories and examples to ease them into the principles. Including stories in a lecture is a bit like digging in compost to enrich and lighten heavy clay soil.
The question for me is always: how best to interweave narrative and propositional forms (argument, opinion or generalisations) in a lecture or piece of writing? As Jerome Bruner noted:
“A good story and a well-formed argument are different natural kinds. Both can be used as means for convincing another. Yet what they convince of is fundamentally different: arguments convince one of their truth, stories of their lifelikeness.” (Jerome Bruner: Actual minds, possible worlds)
So if you combine the two, you may have a powerful mix. The art lies partly in selecting the best and most relevant stories and examples to engage your reader, and then telling them well. That requires considerable thought, empathy and storytelling skills.
Related reading
Jerome Bruner. Actual minds, possible worlds, 1986
Stephen Denning. The springboard – how storytelling ignites action in knowledge-era organizations, 2001.
Richard Kearney. On stories, 2001.
Barbara Minto. The Pyramid Principle, 1987.
As always, it was the one critical comment that stuck most in my mind: “Why were you beating about the bush? This could have been covered in 30 minutes.” On my way home I pondered what this student had meant. Perhaps he or she felt impatient listening to my anecdotes. I had made a special effort to bring my lecture to life with tales from my own experience. For example, I told them how, when applying for the job of editor with the management consultants McKinsey back in 1987, I wrote a covering letter using what I understood to be the “McKinsey way of thinking” (logical structure), taking the specifications mentioned in the job ad as my starting point. I got the job, so maybe my logically-structured letter made a difference.
As I reflected on the student’s comment, I reflected that you can’t please everybody. Some want the general principles (or the ‘so whats?’ in McKinsey-speak) without any narrative detours, while others like some stories and examples to ease them into the principles. Including stories in a lecture is a bit like digging in compost to enrich and lighten heavy clay soil.
The question for me is always: how best to interweave narrative and propositional forms (argument, opinion or generalisations) in a lecture or piece of writing? As Jerome Bruner noted:
“A good story and a well-formed argument are different natural kinds. Both can be used as means for convincing another. Yet what they convince of is fundamentally different: arguments convince one of their truth, stories of their lifelikeness.” (Jerome Bruner: Actual minds, possible worlds)
So if you combine the two, you may have a powerful mix. The art lies partly in selecting the best and most relevant stories and examples to engage your reader, and then telling them well. That requires considerable thought, empathy and storytelling skills.
Related reading
Jerome Bruner. Actual minds, possible worlds, 1986
Stephen Denning. The springboard – how storytelling ignites action in knowledge-era organizations, 2001.
Richard Kearney. On stories, 2001.
Barbara Minto. The Pyramid Principle, 1987.