The standard formula you are typically taught in science is IMRaD: Introduction, Methods, Results, and Discussion. This of course mainly works for papers that are experimental, but I have always found it a useful zeroth iteration for structure when writing reviews and more philosophical papers: (1) explain what it is about, why it is important, and what others have done. (2) explain how the problem is or can be studied/solved. (3) explain what this tells us. (4) explain what this new knowledge means in the large, the limitations of what we have done and learned, as well as where we ought to go next.
Experienced academics also scan the reference section to see who is cited. This is a surface level analysis of whether the author has done their homework, and where in the literature the paper is situated. It is a crude trick, but fairly effective in saving time. It also leads to a whole host of biases, of course.
Different disciplines work in different ways. In medicine everybody loves to overcite (“The brain [1] is an organ commonly found in the head [2,3], believed to be important for cognition [4-18,23].”) Computer science is lighter on citations and more forgiving of self-cites (the typical paper cites Babbage/Turing, a competing algorithm, and two tech reports and a conference poster by the author about the earlier version of the algorithm). Philosophy tends to either be very low on citations (when dealing with ideas), or have nitpicky page and paragraph citations (when dealing with what someone really argued).
An example of this is the “inverted pyramid” structure for many news articles—start with the salient facts, then the most important details, then fill in the other details.
Ugh! The vomitous mass of facts and details. I can’t stand articles like that. A little quote starts ringing through my mind “When you talk like this, I can’t help but wonder, do you have a point?”
(1) explain what it is about, why it is important, and what others have done.
This is closer to what I would advise.
Start with motivating the reader by identifying a known problem and your contribution to the solution for it. Let him know what’s in the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, so that he might want to get there.
Up front, tell him the payoff of reading the paper. Then he might be motivated to continue reading.
Then describe the path you’ll be taking him, so that he can track the progress to that pot of gold.
The path should include a formulation of problem, a description of current approaches, a description of your own approach, a comparison of the basic approaches of each, a comparison of the performance of each, and a summary of what was found in the pot of gold and how we found it.
The history of the problem and it’s solutions are something you might add in a longer paper.
I can’t stand articles that leave me wondering where they’re going and why. It goes beyond motivating with a payoff to simply being able to follow what is being presented. If I don’t know where we’re going and why, it’s very hard for me to follow and evaluate the paper. If you’re not going to give me a map, at least identify a purpose.
Ugh! The vomitous mass of facts and details. I can’t stand articles like that. A little quote starts ringing through my mind “When you talk like this, I can’t help but wonder, do you have a point?”
Done properly, it’s like watching an interlaced image load in. First pass, tell the story in one sentence. Second pass, use a four sentence paragraph. Third pass, four paragraphs. Recurse as needed.
The standard formula you are typically taught in science is IMRaD: Introduction, Methods, Results, and Discussion. This of course mainly works for papers that are experimental, but I have always found it a useful zeroth iteration for structure when writing reviews and more philosophical papers: (1) explain what it is about, why it is important, and what others have done. (2) explain how the problem is or can be studied/solved. (3) explain what this tells us. (4) explain what this new knowledge means in the large, the limitations of what we have done and learned, as well as where we ought to go next.
Experienced academics also scan the reference section to see who is cited. This is a surface level analysis of whether the author has done their homework, and where in the literature the paper is situated. It is a crude trick, but fairly effective in saving time. It also leads to a whole host of biases, of course.
Different disciplines work in different ways. In medicine everybody loves to overcite (“The brain [1] is an organ commonly found in the head [2,3], believed to be important for cognition [4-18,23].”) Computer science is lighter on citations and more forgiving of self-cites (the typical paper cites Babbage/Turing, a competing algorithm, and two tech reports and a conference poster by the author about the earlier version of the algorithm). Philosophy tends to either be very low on citations (when dealing with ideas), or have nitpicky page and paragraph citations (when dealing with what someone really argued).
The OP wrote:
Ugh! The vomitous mass of facts and details. I can’t stand articles like that. A little quote starts ringing through my mind “When you talk like this, I can’t help but wonder, do you have a point?”
This is closer to what I would advise.
Start with motivating the reader by identifying a known problem and your contribution to the solution for it. Let him know what’s in the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, so that he might want to get there.
Up front, tell him the payoff of reading the paper. Then he might be motivated to continue reading.
Then describe the path you’ll be taking him, so that he can track the progress to that pot of gold.
The path should include a formulation of problem, a description of current approaches, a description of your own approach, a comparison of the basic approaches of each, a comparison of the performance of each, and a summary of what was found in the pot of gold and how we found it.
The history of the problem and it’s solutions are something you might add in a longer paper.
I can’t stand articles that leave me wondering where they’re going and why. It goes beyond motivating with a payoff to simply being able to follow what is being presented. If I don’t know where we’re going and why, it’s very hard for me to follow and evaluate the paper. If you’re not going to give me a map, at least identify a purpose.
Done properly, it’s like watching an interlaced image load in. First pass, tell the story in one sentence. Second pass, use a four sentence paragraph. Third pass, four paragraphs. Recurse as needed.
Order still matters on each pass.