FAQ: But isn’t the 5-paragraph form the best thing since sliced bread, Dr. Morrissey?
Students have been trained to believe that all teachers want to read 5-paragraph essays.
You know the 5-paragraph essay. It begins with an introduction paragraph, ends with a conclusion paragraph, and includes 3 paragraphs, each devoted to one of three ideas. The introduction paragraph begins with generalities, then mentions the three ideas (one for each paragraph), and concludes with a “thesis” (the main point of the essay). At the other end of the 5-paragraph essay, the conclusion paragraph usually says exactly the same thing as the introduction.
At the same time, students are nonetheless convinced that no one but a teacher would ever want to read 5-paragraph essays.
Sometimes I ask students whether they write letters to their friends in the 5-paragraph form: “Dear Friend, Since the dawn of time, man has wondered what Harcombe food is made from. In this essay, I will tell you. There are three ingredients in Harcombe food, and I will devote one paragraph to each below. . . . So, in conclusion, there are three ingredients to Harcombe food, and I have told you what they are.” For some reason, students are usually deeply amused or horrified by the prospect of writing a friendly letter in that form. They usually say it is too formal, or–if they’re particularly brave–they’ll even suggest that the 5-paragraph form is . . . boring (!).
So I wonder: if the 5-paragraph form is so great, then why don’t people use it outside of classrooms? Why is the idea of writing a letter to a friend in a 5-paragraph form so ludicrous? Maybe because the 5-paragraph form is not as great as you’ve been asked to pretend you believe when in front of your teachers. After all, by beginning with generalities the 5-paragraph form asks you either to get yourself involved in things that you are not actually going to address in the rest of your essay, or to bore the reader with stuff they already know.
As if that weren’t enough, the 5-paragraph form then asks you to repeat yourself: every idea is mentioned at least three times, once in the introduction, once in the “body,” and once in the conclusion. As if that weren’t enough, the 5-paragraph form then asks you to repeat yourself: every idea is mentioned at least three times, once in the introduction, once in the “body,” and once in the conclusion. As if that weren’t enough, the 5-paragraph form then asks you to repeat yourself: every idea is mentioned at least three times, once in the introduction, once in the “body,” and once in the conclusion. You get the idea.
FAQ: Aren’t you throwing the baby out with the bath water, Dr. Morrissey?
Don’t get me wrong. There are advantages to 5-paragraph essays. For one thing, they’re easy to grade. Just look for the 5-paragraph form and three ideas. Zip, zip, zip. Done. For another, thing, they’re also a great template for students when they’re taking tests. Running out of time? Not sure how to organize your thoughts? Can only remember three things about the topic? Plug those three ideas into the form, add some generalities, and you’ll likely get some credit, more than you would have if you’d blown the time thinking about how to say what you wanted to say. Finally, by introducing you to the concept of structuring an essay, the five-paragraph form got you here, got you to college.
FAQ: Why are you doing this to us, Dr. Morrissey?
Now that you are here, in college, you are now lucky enough to have the chance to learn (an)other way(s) of organizing your thoughts on paper. Some people think that this is one of the most important “academic” lessons a college education offers to all its students, regardless of major. Learning another way of writing is precisely what I am proposing. Although it will be built on the abstract concept of structured writing that you learned from the 5-paragraph form, you are now able to try other ways.
FAQ: But Dr. Morrissey, if I can’t write to a teacher in the 5-paragraph form I would never use with anyone else, then how can I possibly write to a teacher?
As you know, but likely repress every time you write an essay for a teacher, no one thinks, or speaks, in 5-paragraph form. The trick then is to find a way of writing that somehow combines your way of thinking–about a topic–with some sense of what an audience might expect (including sometimes going against what your audience expects, so as to surprise them, or make them laugh).
The easiest thing to do is to begin with your thesis, the point of your essay that gets buried in the 5-paragraph form below all the generalities at the end of your introduction paragraph. Because the thesis is what you want to argue or establish, it sets the tone for the essay. Consequently, it makes a lot of sense that it come first. One way of thinking about an essay is to consider it a math equation: the essay works out the implications of the thesis. How your essay proceeds depends on how your thesis begins it.
But for all these reasons–setting the tone of the essay, initiating the logic of the essay, representing the core of your thinking–the thesis is very important. What you’re looking for then is a “punchy” thesis, a sentence that really gets right to your point, grabs the reader’s attention, while at the same time having enough implications to sustain the whole essay.
FAQ: Dr. Morrissey, even if I could come up with a thesis that was as good as you say all our thesis sentences are supposed to be, wouldn’t my essay be done as soon as the thesis is done?
Most students think that the ideal essay would be one short sentence long. From the few who’ve been willing to admit it to me, I’ve deduced that many students write the rest of the essay just because they have to, seeing that the teacher asked and everything. If they could, though, many students would put the thesis on the page and be done with it.
However, because a thesis is an argument, every thesis negates its opposite. That is, for every claim, there is someone who believes its opposite (the antithesis). And your thesis can put them on the defensive. So, for instance, if you begin an essay with the claim that “USC smells,” there are, believe it or not, people who would argue that USC does not smell. Consequently, as soon as you write your thesis you will also have to address the concerns of those people who disagree with you. But if you simply list all the reasons why it smells–its 200-year old age, or its location in the so-called city of Columbia, SC, for example–those who disagree with you will think that you are repeating yourself, not explaining or establishing your claim. The easiest way to prove your point is to try to disprove its opposite–in this case to show that it is not true that USC does not smell.
A good thesis generates an essay, because anticipating and countering the objections of your audience is the core of making an argument. Consequently, an essay is longer than its thesis because the thesis automatically entails objections and controversy; the rest of the essay addresses those concerns.
However, it is not enough just to put forward an argument in a thesis. Necessary, but not sufficient. Saying “I like David Arquette,” or whatever, as important as that might be, is nonetheless not as important as why you like David Arquette, or whatever. For example, the more interesting David Arquette thesis delves into the importance, intricacy, and implications of his 1-800 dance, or his 1-800 pool-hall stylings, or his ability to perform as a policeman in Scream. A good thesis statement, in other words, gets at the important issues.
If the logic is in the point you want to make, and rhetoric how you make that point, the best thesis (and essay) will combine logic and rhetoric. Logically, the better thesis is the one that entails the most consequences; rhetorically, the better thesis grabs and sustains the reader’s attention. Going for too much logic or too much rhetoric, so to speak, will lose you readers. Consequently, the best thesis involves both. As Julie Andrews once said, “A spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down.”
FAQ: Okay, Dr. Morrissey, we get it. Thesis. Thesis. But then what?
Now that you’ve been made aware of it, you’ll notice that most writing begins with a thesis. This will help you see how essays are structured outside the land of 5 paragraphs. Usually, an author: explains the terms of the thesis; preliminarily counters objections; turns to examples (which illustrate the point and are examined in the light of the objections); and then draws conclusions based upon the exploration of examples. In a sense, then essays could be considered lab reports–hypothesis (see, there’s that thesis word again), examples (the experiments), and conclusions (same as conclusions in a lab report). Or one could describe books as long essays to defend a thesis; books become books because the author has many points to make and counter.
A good thesis will govern the entire essay. With a good thesis, you can line up examples and use them simultaneously to make your point and disprove the oppositions. This process of taking your oppositions claims seriously means examining your own examples in the light of your thesis (and its antithesis). If you don’t examine the examples both ways (and subordinate clauses using yet or although are a typical way of doing so), those who disagree will think you’re not taking them seriously, and will think you’re just repeating yourself.
At the end of the essay, you can move from the specific thesis, through the examples, to a larger claim, lesson, point, application, etc., that logically follows from what you have established in your essay. Unlike the repetitive conclusion in the 5 paragraph essay, the conclusion I am describing does not restate the thesis, because it is bigger, more general, and different from–although based on–the thesis with which the essay begins.
FAQ: But Dr. Morrissey I hate theses. It’s such an ugly word. Isn’t there some way to begin an essay that is not the same as the generalities of the 5-paragraph form but does not begin with a thesis per se?
Yes. But I’d say they’re tougher to use than simply beginning with the thesis. I suggest beginning with the thesis because that’s the easiest way to build on the 5-paragraph form. The 5-paragraph form teaches students about a thesis, but it asks them to bury it. The next step would be to move the thesis to the front.
FAQ: But Dr. Morrissey as far as I can tell you’re the only geek who would not want to read a 5-paragraph form.
Teachers, like all readers, do not want to be bored. Teachers, like many readers, find the 5-paragraph form boring. Some students attribute their classroom success to relying on the rules and the forms. A safe bet, yes. Probably tried and true for them by now. But what those students miss that way is the chance to learn another way; what they miss, in other words, is precisely what some people think learning is all about. In the case of essay-writing, what they miss is the chance to try another way of writing an essay.
The longer they go without practicing, the tougher it will be to practice. As long as they get the same grades to which they have become accustomed, some students think that all their teachers want to read the 5-paragraph form on which they have relied for so long. But it may be that students could do better if they could find another, more age-appropriate, way of writing, and they might also learn that teachers prefer not to be bored with the repetitive generalities.
If you are able to write a new kind of essay, one that represents well how you’re thinking about a topic, addresses audience objections, gets rid of repetitive generalities, and grabs the reader’s attention, you’ll be fine.If it turns out that your teacher does not like essays that represent well how you’re thinking about a topic, address audience objections, get rid of repetitive generalities, and grab the reader’s attention, well, you already know how to write the 5-paragraph form, and again you’ll be fine.