They Say / I Say: The Moves That Matter in Academic Writing

“Even when presenting your own claims, you should keep returning to the motivating ‘they say.’ The longer and more complicated your text, the greater the chance that readers will forget what ideas originally motivated it—no matter how clearly you lay them out at the beginning. At strategic moments throughout your text, we recommend that you include what we call ‘return sentences.’ […] We ourselves use such return sentences at every opportunity in this book to remind you of the view of writing that our book questions—that good writing means making true or smart or logical statements about a given subject with little or no reference to what others say about it.”

Graff and Birkenstein frequently draw attention to They Say/I Say as an argumentative text; they exemplify the argumentative and structural methods they recommend in their own writing. This turns their otherwise theoretical text into a practical demonstration of their argumentation methods.

“Many writers shy away from summarizing—perhaps because they don’t want to take the trouble to go back to the text in question and wrestle with what it says, or because they fear that devoting too much time to other people’s ideas will take away from their own.”

This quote helps new writers to identify the reasons for rhetorically weak choices they may be making. However, instead of addressing the reader directly as “you,” Graff and Birkenstein refer to “many writers.” This allows their readers (who may be guilty of this foible) to identify it on their own terms without feeling ashamed for their mistake. Knowing that “many” writers also have this problem may soften the pain of making an error.

“If, as a writer, you cannot or will not suspend your own beliefs […] you are likely to produce summaries that are so obviously biased that they undermine your credibility with readers.”

This quote refers to Graff and Birkenstein’s injunction to “put yourself in the shoes of” the author you are paraphrasing. This helps your summaries avoid biased language and supports your credibility as an objective thinker.

“In introducing summaries, try to avoid bland formulas like ‘she says,’ or ‘they believe.’ Though language like this is sometimes serviceable enough, it often fails to reflect accurately what’s been said. In some cases, ‘he says’ may even drain the passion out of the ideas you’re summarizing.”

While this passage may appear to contradict the basic concept of this book—that arguments can be broken down into “they say” and “I say” statements—it signals to the reader that Graff and Birkenstein aren’t necessarily encouraging readers to couch all of their summaries and arguments in these terms. Rather, “they say/I say” is a simplified formula for presenting information and ideas clearly.

“Before you can select appropriate quotations, you need to have a sense of what you want to do with them—that is, how they will support your text at the particular point where you insert them. Be careful not to select quotations just for the sake of demonstrating that you’ve read the author’s work; you need to make sure they support your own argument.”

This quote emphasizes the strategic purpose of including quotes, specifically in regard to classroom writing. While a student might be tempted to include certain quotes to demonstrate their familiarity with the text, using quotes purposefully to make a coherent argument will result in a stronger essay and indicate a deeper understanding of the text.

“Moving to the ‘I say’ stage can be daunting in academia, where it often may seem that you need to be an expert in a field to have an argument at all. Many students have told us that they have trouble entering some of the high-powered conversations that take place in college or graduate school because they do not know enough about the topic at hand, or because, they say, they simply are not ‘smart enough.’ […] What these students came to realize is that good arguments are based not on knowledge that only a special class of experts has access to, but on everyday habits of mind that can be isolated, identified, and used by almost anyone.”

In the opening paragraphs of Part 2, Graff and Birkenstein address a major stumbling block for inexperienced writers, especially in academic settings. They also allude to a major element of the types of argumentation student writers will encounter: works by researchers (as opposed to experts).

“Even though most of us are upset at the idea of someone criticizing our work, such criticisms can actually work to our advantage.”

In the context of Chapter 6, this quote refers to the argumentative power of anticipating and understanding “naysayers”’ objections to one’s arguments. Having knowledge of why someone else might be unconvinced by an argument can help a writer map out a rebuttal that strengthens their overall argument. Constructive criticism from a reader serves the same purpose.

“But wait, you say. Isn’t the advice to incorporate critical views a recipe for destroying your credibility and undermining your argument? Here you are, trying to say something that will hold up, and we want you to tell readers all the negative things someone might say against you? Exactly. We are urging you to tell readers what others might say against you, but our point is that doing so will actually enhance your credibility, not undermine it.”

In this passage, Graff and Birkenstein use their own argumentative techniques to further their point. They include and respond to a “naysayer,” which they have planted into their text to prove a point.

“As we argue throughout this book, writing well does not mean piling up uncontroversial truths in a vacuum; it means engaging others in a dialogue or debate—not only by opening your text with a summary of what others have said, as we suggest in Chapter 1, but also by imagining what others might say against your argument as it unfolds. Once you see writing as an act of entering a conversation, you should also see how opposing arguments can work for you rather than against you.”

Here, the authors continue to remind the reader that, while essays always have arguments embedded in them, their main purpose is not combative; it’s conversational. On top of creating opportunities to build stronger arguments and credibility, including a naysayer’s opinion in one’s writing preserves the conversational nature of argumentative writing.

“But what if you’ve tried out all the possible answers you can think of to an objection you’ve anticipated and you still have a nagging feeling that the objection is more convincing than your argument itself? In that case, the best remedy is to go back and make some fundamental revisions to your argument, even reversing your position completely if need be. Although finding out late in the game that you aren’t fully convinced by your own argument can be painful, it can actually make your final text more intellectually honest, challenging, and serious. After all, the goal of writing is not to keep proving that whatever you initially said is right, but to stretch the limits of your thinking. So if planting a strong naysayer in your text forces you to change your mind, that’s not a bad thing. Some would argue that that is what the academic world is all about.”

Here, Graff and Birkenstein steer their readers toward argument for the purposes of truth-seeking, rather than arguing to win a debate. They encourage their readers to prize information, nuance, and honesty above simply being right.

“When pressed, […] most academics will tell you that their lectures and articles matter because they address some belief that needs to be corrected or updated—and because their arguments have important, real-world consequences. Yet many academics fail to identify these reasons and consequences explicitly in what they say and write.”

“It may help to think of each sentence you write as having arms that reach backward and forward, as the figure below suggests. When your sentences reach outward like this, they establish connections that help your writing flow smoothly in a way readers appreciate. Conversely, when writing lacks such connections and moves in fits and starts, readers repeatedly have to go back over the sentences and guess at the connections on their own.”

The figure described in this passage depicts a long rectangle labeled “your sentence.” The rectangle has two human arms reaching out from the left and right sides of the rectangle. Each arm is holding a thread; these threads implicitly represent the information and ideas presented in the other sentences around “your sentence.” This image is designed to accompany the verbal metaphor of “tying” sentences together: each sentence in an essay must maintain some connection—some “tie”—to the sentences around it.

The figure described in this passage depicts a long rectangle labeled “your sentence.” The rectangle has two human arms reaching out from the left and right sides of the rectangle. Each arm is holding a thread; these threads implicitly represent the information and ideas presented in the other sentences around “your sentence.” This image is designed to accompany the verbal metaphor of “tying” sentences together: each sentence in an essay must maintain some connection—some “tie”—to the sentences around it.

“We think of words like ‘but,’ ‘yet,’ ‘nevertheless,’ ‘besides,’ and others as argument words, since it’s hard to use them without making some kind of argument. The word ‘therefore,’ for instance, commits you to making sure that the claims preceding it lead logically to the conclusion that it introduces. ‘For example’ also assumes an argument, since it requires the material you are introducing to stand as an instance or proof of some preceding generalization.”

Here, Graff and Birkenstein call attention to words that are so commonplace that new writers may forget the full breadth of what they imply. In the process, they spell out the implications that all writers should bear in mind.

“In these examples, Smitherman blends the standard written English of phrases like ‘oral tradition’ and ‘fundamental vehicle’ with black oral vernacular like ‘gittin ovuh,’ ‘dem books,’ and ‘how bad they is.’ Indeed, she even blends standard English spelling with that of black English variants like ‘dem’ and ‘ovuh,’ thus mimicking what some black English vernacular actually sounds like. Although some scholars might object to these unconventional practices, this is precisely Smitherman’s point: that our habitual language practices need to be opened up, and that the number of participants in the academic conversation needs to be expanded.”

By introducing Smitherman’s work on Black American dialects, Graff and Birkenstein indicate that formal/informal mixings and code-meshing in scholarly writing are more than exercises in style. These practices make room for non-standard English dialects in academic spaces and implicitly validate them as legitimate language forms (as opposed to simple “slang” or “informal English”). In this way, formal/informal mixings can be a vehicle for language justice.

“Thinking of a title as metacommentary can actually help you develop sharper titles, ones that […] give readers a hint of what your argument will be. Contrast such titles with unhelpfully open-ended ones like ‘Shakespeare’ or ‘Steroids’ or ‘English Essay,’ or essays with no titles at all. Essays with vague titles (or no titles) send the message that the writer has simply not bothered to reflect on what he or she is saying and is uninterested in guiding or orienting readers.”

By presenting examples of well-crafted book titles, Graff and Birkenstein are able to illustrate the communicative power titles can hold. Vague and nonexistent titles are common in undergraduate classrooms. While an interesting and informative title will likely not be the difference between a failing and passing grade, encouraging students to meditate on their titles sets them up to think critically about their papers—their messaging, their reasons for writing, and the connectedness of their papers’ parts.

“Particularly important for class discussion is the point that our own ideas become more cogent and powerful the more responsive we are to others, and the more we frame our claims not in isolation but as responses to what others before us have said.”

Here, Graff and Birkenstein recontextualize their concept of the metaphorical conversation between authors who cite one another in terms of the literal conversation taking place in a classroom. After explaining how argumentative writing is like a conversation—and ensuring that their readers understand this—Graff and Birkenstein rely on their readers’ understanding of argumentative writing when they help explain analytical discussion in the classroom.

“We agree that in oral situations, it does often sound artificial to restate what others just said precisely because they just said it. It would be awkward if, on being asked to pass the salt at lunch, one were to reply: ‘If I understand you correctly, you have asked me to pass the salt. Yes, I can, and here it is.’ But in oral discussions about complicated issues that are open to multiple interpretations, we usually do need to resummarize what others have said to make sure that everyone is on the same page.”

In this passage, Graff and Birkenstein use humor to help illustrate the difference between casual conversations and classroom discussions. The situation presented here (a speaker carefully restating what has already been said and clearly outlining their response after being asked to pass the salt) is absurd. This absurdity subtly gestures to what makes these moves necessary when handling complex topics. It would be redundant to include metacommentary on passing salt, but it makes sense to include metacommentary when handing more complicated ideas. Instead of being awkward, it becomes an essential clarification.

“We were still asking students to look for the main argument, but we were now asking them to see that argument as a response to some other argument that provoked it, gave it a reason for being, and helped all of us see why we should care about it.”

This passage represents a key rhetorical choice from Graff and Birkenstein. The first is that they are “peeling back the curtain” for their readers and sharing aspects of what it’s like to be the teacher, rather than the student. Inviting their readers into their world (and sharing some of their mistakes) helps to demystify not just academic writing but also academic settings and academic authorities.

“By changing the opening question, we changed the way our students approached reading, and perhaps the way they thought about academic work in general. Instead of thinking of the argument of a text as an isolated entity, they now thought of that argument as one that responded to and provoked other argument.”

This quote presents another dimension of Graff and Birkenstein’s reasoning for sharing stories from their own classrooms. It showcases the impact that small, seemingly irrelevant details such as phrasing have in argumentative scenarios. What they learned as teachers can be transferred to argumentative writing.

“We hope it is clear that critical reading is a two-way street. It is just as much about being open to the way that writers can challenge you, maybe even transform you, as it is about questioning those writers. And if you translate a writer’s argument into your own words as you read, you should allow the text to take you outside the ideas that you already hold and to introduce you to new terms and concepts. Even if you end up disagreeing with an author, you first have to show that you have really listened to what he or she is saying, have fully grasped his or her arguments, and can accurately summarize those arguments.”

Here, Graff and Birkenstein remind the reader of the ultimate goal behind academic writing (especially in classroom settings): to explore new and complex ideas, to build bases of knowledge, and to seek truth. To these authors, the process of studying and building arguments is not a means to an end; this process is the end in itself to which a given finished piece of writing contributes.

“Notice that the authors frame their claim with a version of the ‘they say/I say’ formula: Although previous work suggests _____, our data argue _____. This basic move and its many variations are widespread in scientific writing. The essential argumentative moves taught in this book transcend disciplines, and the sciences are no exception. The examples in this chapter were written by professional scientists, but they show moves that are appropriate in any writing that addresses scientific issues.”

Here, Gillen highlights that the fundamental conversational nature of argumentative writing as an exchange between “they say” and “I say”—and vice versa—applies just as much to scientific writing as to any other kind.

“Notice that in discussing the implications of their data, Cleveland and Townsend use language—including the verbs ‘suggest’ and ‘may be’—that denotes their level of confidence in what they say about the data. Whether you are summarizing what others say about their data or offering your own interpretation, pay attention to the verbs that connect data to interpretations. […] Almost never will you use the verb ‘prove’ in reference to a single study, because even very powerful evidence generally falls short of proof unless other studies support the same conclusion.”

Here, Gillen emphasizes that “proof” means there is certainty in the cause-and-effect relationship between a given hypothesis and the data point(s) it is drawn from and that such certainty is rarely warranted. To say that the data “suggest” something in fact makes for a stronger argument, since it does not overstep the bounds of what is plausible.

“Regardless of the type of data used, it is important to do three things: define your data, indicate where you got the data, and then say what you have done with your data.”

Like Gillen, Ackerman advocates for data transparency in academic writing. This nests into Graff and Birkenstein’s previous arguments neatly. In particular, their focus on knowledge and rigorous debate over winning arguments sets an ideal stage for Gillen and Ackerman’s discussion of data presentation.