Chapter 1
The Art of Economical Writing: Where Clarity Meets Impact
Imagine a world where your words not only communicate but captivate. Where your ideas aren't just understood but embraced. This is the promise of economical writing-not writing that's cheap, but writing that's efficient, clear, and powerful. Deirdre McCloskey's "Economical Writing" has become something of a cult classic among academics and professionals who recognize that bad writing isn't just annoying-it's career suicide. The book has influenced generations of economists, historians, and business professionals since its first appearance in the 1980s. Even Nobel laureates cite it as essential reading. What makes this slim volume so powerful? It treats writing not as a mysterious talent but as a learnable craft-one that can transform not just how you communicate, but how you think.
Chapter 2
Writing Is Thinking, Not Just Packaging
The most dangerous misconception about writing is that it merely packages ideas that exist fully formed in your mind. This couldn't be further from truth. Writing is thinking made visible - it's an active process of discovery, refinement, and often profound revelation. When you struggle to express an idea clearly, the problem often isn't your command of language-it's that you haven't yet clarified what you actually mean. This struggle is not just normal; it's essential to the thinking process itself.
Consider how often you've had this experience: you begin writing something you thought you understood perfectly, only to discover halfway through that your argument has holes, your evidence is weaker than you realized, or your logic doesn't quite connect. This isn't a failure of expression-it's a triumph of discovery. As McCloskey puts it, "In writing, you uncover both bad ideas and good ones." The very act of putting thoughts to paper forces a level of precision and scrutiny that mental contemplation alone rarely achieves. Writers frequently report that their best insights come not before they start writing, but during the writing process itself.
The history of human thought has made many turns due to lucidity and elegance in expression. Galileo's Dialogo persuaded people partly because it was masterful Italian prose in an era dominated by scholarly Latin - his choice to write in the vernacular, combined with his clear, engaging style, made complex astronomical concepts accessible to a broader audience. Keynes hypnotized generations with his graceful fluency, making economic theories comprehensible and compelling through his masterful prose. Darwin's "Origin of Species" succeeded not just because of its revolutionary ideas, but because it presented them with remarkable clarity and careful argumentation. You simply cannot separate content from style-they're like yolk and white in a scrambled egg.
Good thinking shares the same qualities as good writing: it's accurate, relevant, concrete yet usefully abstract, concise yet full of ideas. Above all, it's self-critical and honest. When you improve your writing, you're not just polishing the presentation-you're honing the very way you think. This is why economical writing matters far beyond mere aesthetics. Clear writing reflects clear thinking, and clear thinking changes the world. Consider how many groundbreaking ideas remained obscure until someone expressed them with sufficient clarity - Einstein's special relativity papers weren't just mathematically sound, they were written with remarkable clarity that helped others grasp revolutionary concepts.
The relationship between writing and thinking is reciprocal: better thinking leads to better writing, and the discipline of writing leads to more rigorous thinking. This virtuous cycle explains why many of history's greatest thinkers were also excellent writers, and why the practice of writing regularly - whether through journaling, blogging, or academic work - often leads to intellectual breakthroughs. The act of writing forces us to confront our own understanding, challenge our assumptions, and articulate our thoughts with precision that mere mental reflection rarely demands.
Chapter 3
The Golden Rule: Be Clear, Not Merely Understood
If there's one commandment that towers above all others in economical writing, it's this: Be Clear. As the Roman rhetorician Quintilian advised, write "not merely so that the reader can understand but so that he cannot possibly misunderstand." This distinction is crucial. Many writers satisfy themselves with being comprehensible with effort, like a puzzle that can eventually be solved. True clarity requires more-it demands writing that cannot be misinterpreted, even by readers approaching the text from different backgrounds or expertise levels.
Clarity is fundamentally social, existing in the space between writer and reader. If readers find your writing unclear, it is unclear, regardless of your intentions or how crystal-clear it seems to you. The philosopher Karl Popper demonstrated the right attitude: when readers found his passages difficult, he never defended them but immediately rewrote them, often multiple times until the meaning became unmistakable. Bad writing constantly puzzles readers, distracts from the point, and slows reading pace. It creates cognitive friction that exhausts the reader's mental energy on decoding rather than understanding. Most writing troubles readers more than half the time-watch your own stumbling when reading to identify common problems like overlong sentences, unclear antecedents, or buried main ideas.
The best test for clarity is reading your work aloud after letting it sit for a few days. This cooling-off period helps you approach the text with fresh eyes, more like a typical reader would. Where you stumble, your readers will stumble. Where you get confused, they'll get lost entirely. Where you need to reread a sentence, they might simply give up. Pay particular attention to transitions between ideas, the logical flow of your arguments, and whether key terms are properly defined and consistently used.
Remember that clarity is ultimately an act of courtesy and professional responsibility. When you write clearly, you show respect for your reader's time and attention, acknowledging that they likely have many competing demands on their cognitive resources. Confusing prose isn't merely ineffective-it's selfish and potentially arrogant. It places the burden of interpretation entirely on the reader rather than accepting responsibility as the writer. Complex ideas don't require complex expression; often, the deeper your understanding, the more clearly you can explain something. As McCloskey notes, "The reader is not your mother," meaning readers won't love your writing unconditionally or work to decipher your meaning. They'll simply stop reading and move on to something else that better respects their time and intelligence.
Clear writing also demonstrates confidence in your ideas. When you write with clarity, you show that your thoughts can withstand scrutiny and don't need to hide behind elaborate or confusing language. This transparency builds trust with readers and makes your arguments more persuasive.
Chapter 4
Rules Can Help, But Bad Rules Hurt
Many of us carry writing "rules" from school that actually damage our prose. Remember being told "never repeat the same word" or "never write 'I'" or "don't split infinitives"? These prescriptions often lead to awkward, unnatural writing that's harder-not easier-to read. Consider how writers twist themselves into knots using "stated," "declared," "expressed," and "articulated" just to avoid repeating "said," when "said" would work perfectly well and fade into the background.
Perhaps the most damaging rule taught in schools is the dreaded "say what you're going to say; say it; say that you've said it." This approach drains all drama from writing, making it boring and redundant. It transforms potentially engaging prose into mechanical exercises that insult readers' intelligence and attention spans. Winston Churchill wisely required government proposals on half-sheets of paper, preventing this verbose approach that treats readers like amnesiacs. His insistence on brevity produced clearer, more impactful communication during Britain's darkest hours.
Good writing rules come from observation, not logic. They describe what successful writers actually do, not what someone thinks they should do. A double negative isn't "illogical"-it's just a social mistake in Standard English. Languages around the world, from Russian to Spanish, regularly use double negatives for emphasis. If great writers started using "I ain't no fool," no schoolmistress logic could prevent its adoption. Language evolves through usage, not rules.
The best writing guides understand this distinction between prescriptive and descriptive rules. Strunk and White's Elements of Style, while occasionally rigid, focuses on clarity and impact. Graves and Hodge's The Reader over Your Shoulder examines how actual readers process text. Williams' Style: Lessons in Clarity and Grace offers practical guidance based on how language actually works, not arbitrary prohibitions. These guides succeed because they start with how people actually read and write, rather than imposing artificial constraints.
Once you learn the basic rules, writing becomes a game-not a grim march but a creative flow. Like cooking or baseball, there's joy in getting a sentence just right. You might start with basic recipes or fundamental techniques, but true mastery comes from understanding when to follow rules and when to break them for effect. Psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi calls this "flow"-when skills fully engage with a manageable challenge. Writing should be playful, not merely rule-driven. The best writers know their rules thoroughly but wear them lightly, like a jazz musician who masters scales before improvising freely.
Chapter 5
Write Early, Revise Often, and Keep Your Spirits Up
Don't wait until your research is complete before writing-write continuously throughout your project. Writing reveals gaps and weaknesses in your thinking. Organize your research in a "file" that becomes thick and rich, occasionally dumped out and rearranged. Give each note a title stating its gist or key word.
When arranging your material, look for the outline emerging naturally from your notes. Allocate notes to related stacks, adding transition reminders. Your arrangement should be artful and interesting. Keep your broad outline in mind as a goal, but be willing to change it as the piece takes shape.
You need not start at the beginning-pick a small part to write about today. The paper should ultimately become a story read from beginning to end. If stuck, write a sub-outline about points for the next few paragraphs. When inspiration strikes, jot it down immediately-don't rely on memory.
When you begin writing, creativity becomes essential-if sentences could be mechanically produced, novels would be written by machines. If you're stuck, you likely need more research, though much research ultimately proves irrelevant to your final paper. The guiding question should always be "So What?"-answer it consistently and you'll produce excellent work.
Don't panic when writing becomes difficult. Few write easily all the time, and those who do often aren't being self-critical enough. At the end of each writing session, jot down thoughts about what comes next-this saves significant warm-up time when you resume. As Piaget noted, "It's better to stop in the middle of the sentence. Then you don't waste time starting up."
Chapter 6
Speak to an Audience of Human Beings
Style comes from rewriting, which requires unwavering dedication and persistence. Ernest Hemingway famously rewrote the last page of Farewell to Arms sixty times to achieve the perfect ending; Honore de Balzac meticulously revised his novels from printer's proofs up to twenty-seven times, often completely reorganizing entire sections; Virginia Woolf laboriously rewrote parts of The Waves twenty times to capture the precise rhythm she sought. Like mastering a musical instrument, writing excellence demands not just practice, but deliberate, focused repetition and refinement.
Always write with a specific audience in mind, as if you're having an intimate conversation. Look your readers directly in the eyes, maintain complete honesty with them, and sustain a consistent level of discourse throughout your work. Choose either an imaginary ideal reader - perhaps a curious, intelligent friend - or a real person whose judgment you respect, someone with high standards but genuine sympathy for your work. This self-imposed discipline keeps your prose at one consistent level and prevents embarrassing lapses into condescension or excessive formality.
A particularly useful technique: revise your writing immediately after reading admirable prose. For approximately thirty minutes, you can channel the rhythms, cadences, and techniques of good writers-though this mimetic effect wears off quickly. Reading Jane Austen might inspire you to craft comical little ironies and sharp social observations; reading Richard Rorty might lead you to adopt his invitational, conversational style; immersing yourself in Hemingway could inspire stripped-down, declarative sentences. Deliberately surround yourself with excellent writing to counterbalance the mediocre prose constantly bombarding us through emails, social media, and corporate communications.
Your writing must be consistently interesting-a harsh requirement for those who know they aren't natural wits or born storytellers. However, you can systematically avoid dullness by eliminating boilerplate-that prefabricated, predictable prose that adds nothing of value. This includes excessive introductions that delay getting to the point, unnecessary repetition that insults the reader's intelligence, and pedantic conversions that prioritize formality over clarity. Instead, focus on concrete details, specific examples, and fresh perspectives that engage your reader's curiosity and maintain their attention throughout your work.
Remember that your readers are human beings seeking connection, understanding, or information. They're not abstract entities or academic committees. Write to their humanity, address their genuine interests and concerns, and maintain their engagement through clarity, honesty, and respect for their time and intelligence.
Chapter 7
Control Your Tone and Make Every Paragraph Count
Your writing's tone fundamentally depends on choosing and maintaining an appropriate implied author - the voice and personality that emerges from your words. This voice should remain consistent throughout your work, whether scholarly, conversational, or somewhere in between. What often ruins academic writing is fundamentally lack of confidence, which manifests as unnecessarily complex language and convoluted sentence structures. As C. Wright Mills astutely observed, unintelligible academic prose "has little to do with complexity of subject matter, and nothing with profundity of thought. It has to do almost entirely with certain confusions of the academic writer about his own status."
Even the most complex theoretical concepts can be explained in plain words to smart, attentive readers. Einstein famously said that if you can't explain something simply, you don't understand it well enough. You must make a conscious choice to be understood rather than admired. If you find yourself unable to explain your argument to your roommate, colleague, or family member in straightforward terms, it's likely a sign that your own understanding needs clarification. The best academic writers combine intellectual rigor with accessibility.
Paragraphs should function as complete, self-contained discussions of one topic or idea. To maintain reader engagement, every paragraph must contribute something new and meaningful - whether it's an illuminating fact, a provocative idea, a surprising detail, or a well-chosen quotation that advances your argument. Think of paragraphing as sophisticated punctuation, similar to stanzas in poetry, giving readers natural breaks to process information and prepare for the next idea. Each paragraph should flow logically from the previous one while introducing fresh material.
A particularly effective paragraph technique involves ending with a simple, street-talk encapsulation that anyone could understand instantly. For example, after a complex discussion of economic theory, you might conclude with "Simply put, when prices go up, people buy less." This technique helps readers digest difficult concepts by providing a clear takeaway. Make your technical paragraphs sing by coming down a notch in the final sentence, translating academic language into everyday terms.
Paragraph length requires careful consideration. Overly long paragraphs (exceeding 250-300 words) can exhaust readers and make your ideas harder to follow, while too-short paragraphs can create a choppy, breathless reading experience that fails to develop ideas fully. One-sentence paragraphs, while common in journalism and online writing, should be used sparingly in academic work - they're often cheap tricks for creating false excitement rather than substantive contributions to your argument. The ideal paragraph length varies by context but should give your ideas enough space to breathe while maintaining reader interest.
Chapter 8
Use Verbs, Active Ones, and Be Concrete
Write with nouns and especially verbs, not adjectives and adverbs. During revision, adjectives and adverbs should be the first to go. Sydney Smith advised crossing out every other word for vigor-advice that could be further condensed to "Run your pen through every other word; you have no idea what vigour it will give."
Use active verbs instead of hiding in passive voice. Replace "Active verbs should be used" with "You should use active verbs." The imperative works well for complex arguments: "Then divide both sides by x" rather than "Both sides are then divided by x."
Verbs make English vibrant. Find the action in a sentence and express it in a verb rather than burying it in nouns (nominalization). For example, change "There is a data reanalysis need" to "We must reanalyze our data." Circle every "is" in your writing-if your page looks like a bad case of acne, replace them with action verbs.
Flee the abstract! Singular words are more concrete than plurals-they call up images standing bravely forward, while plurals summon baggy collections. Prefer "Au Bon Pain baguette" to "bread," "bread" to "widgets," and "widgets" to "X." Readers struggle to translate abstractions down into concrete examples, while easily translating examples up into principles.
Replace "natural resource-oriented exports" with "sheep and wheat," and "the commencement of the Spanish Price Revolution antedated the inflow of treasure" with "Spanish prices began to rise before the treasure came." Ditch five-dollar words that support poses of The Scientist or The Scholar. Anglo-Saxon words (need, someone, feels, buys, bread, bake) have a concreteness that Latin-derived words (integrative, consequences, structural, differentiation) lack.
Chapter 9
Avoid Bad Words and Typographical Tricks
Some perfectly good English words have died because discerning writers decided to avoid them. Using certain words will tag you as incompetent or amateurish in professional circles. For instance, using "hopefully" to mean "I hope" rather than "with hope" will mark you as careless in academic and literary environments. Similarly, beginning sentences with "basically" or "essentially" signals uncertainty and weakens your authority as a writer.
Prose would gain clarity and grace by dropping bureaucratic and pseudo-scientific words that create unnecessary complexity. Terms to avoid include "via" (use "through" or "by"), "the process of" (usually redundant), "intra" (use "within"), "and/or" (choose one), "hypothesize" (use "suggest" or "propose"), and "respectively" (often confusing). The best writing provides clear, elegant standards-Virginia Woolf would never have written "and/or" or "he/she" because she understood that genuine prose should flow naturally, not read like a technical manual or legal document.
Avoid vague Latinate nouns that create artificial sophistication. Replace "concept" with clearer alternatives like "idea" or "notion." Remember that "data" is plural and means "givens," not a catch-all for facts or statistics. "Function" should be replaced with "role" or "purpose." "Situation" is better expressed as "position" or "condition." Use "people" instead of "individuals," avoid empty terms like "agents," and be wary of "structure" (which is often meaningless). The word "process" is usually empty and can be struck out entirely - compare "the writing process" with simply "writing."
Use typographical devices sparingly - excessive use adds an artificial "air" of Breathlessness or Solemnity that suggests fundamental problems with your prose. If you find yourself reaching for italics to emphasize a point, your sentence probably isn't structured to create natural emphasis. Consider rewriting instead. Quotation marks, when not actually quoting someone, often signal either apology or sneering - both are impolite and undermine your writing's authority. Save quotation marks for actual quotations or technical terms on first use.
This-ism remains one of the most common plagues in contemporary writing. Inexperienced writers believe this reader needs those repeated demonstrative pronouns as reminders about which idea is being discussed. Try circling every this, these, and those in your draft - you'll likely be shocked by their frequency. These words needlessly force readers to look backward, interrupting the natural forward flow of ideas. In most cases, the simple article "the" works perfectly well and keeps readers engaged with your text. For example, instead of writing "this problem requires attention," write "the problem requires attention." When you must use demonstrative pronouns, ensure they have clear, specific antecedents.
Chapter 10
Becoming Your Own Best Editor
Beyond mere taste, you must master English idioms. Prepositions, those substitutes for grammatical cases, often cause trouble. They pair better with certain words than others-"discussion about" vs "discussion of." Trust your instinct from reading good writing. Experiment to get prepositions right. Is it "by an increase of supply" or "because of an increase in supply"?
Learning word history helps tremendously. Latin and Greek roots explain much of English. Words often come in natural pairs-you "overcome" ignorance but "cure" diseases. Examine words for their literal meanings and connotations to avoid incongruous metaphors like "the severity of models." Think about what words actually mean.
Reading aloud is a powerful revision technique that helps you hear your writing as others do, detecting bad spots with a good ear. It's practically impossible to decide when to use contractions in semiformal prose without reading aloud. This practice also catches unintentional rhymes that distract readers. Remember: don't write anything you'd be embarrassed to read aloud to your audience. Your built-in "bullshit detector" knows more about good language taste than you realize.
Stephen Ziliak's "McZ# method" offers a practical system for applying McCloskey's principles. The method requires printing drafts and marking violations by circling problematic words and noting the corresponding McZ# in the margin. Students must identify at least four issues per page, preventing them from marking only obvious problems while ignoring deeper issues.
Good style is a matter of taste that can be argued to a conclusion, not merely "opinion." Mark Twain offered seven rules: say exactly what you mean, use the right word, eschew surplusage, include necessary details, avoid slovenliness, use good grammar, and employ a simple style. George Orwell narrowed it to six: avoid cliched metaphors, use short words over long ones, cut unnecessary words, favor active over passive voice, choose everyday English over jargon, and break any rule rather than write barbarously.
To improve, become your own harshest editor. Good writing isn't effortless, but what begins as effort becomes a happiness in the end, like any civilized skill. We can do far better than the verbose, nominalized, passive-laden, jargon-filled prose that plagues modern writing. For the grace and dignity of our lives, for the glory of our English tongue, we must try.
