Nate's note: For the conception of this essay I must thank Ben Ernst because, quite frankly, I stole the idea from him.
Nate's note: For the conception of this essay I must thank Ben Ernst because, quite frankly, I stole the idea from him.
The research paper, as it exists at the collegiate level, is nothing more than a transfer of information, and therefore not a legitimate learning experience. The guidelines for a research paper usually appear as follows: write a specific number of pages on a specific topic with a specific number of sources. Within these guidelines, all hopes for a reasonably creative topic meet decimation. One cannot write a comprehensive, creative, cohesive paper if one must worry about the paper’s length, the paper’s number of sources (which are usually required to appear within the paper) or the paper’s specific topic. (Granted, many professors omit the latter requirement from research papers, but we all can’t major in education.) Restrictions only limit the possibilities—that is the reason for their invention. Criminals receive limitations and restrictions to deter them from undertaking criminal actions. Athletes must comply with restrictions and/or limitations to deter them from undertaking un-sports-man-like activities. Apparently, college professors use restrictions and limitations to deter their students from undertaking the laborious task of writing research papers (after all, they can be purchased). There must be another way.
The average student, receiving the average research paper guidelines, reacts in a typical fashion. First, the student selects a topic (if such a possibility exists) based usually on the topics level of facility; i.e. “can this paper be written with practically no trouble at all?” Once the student has achieved this frame of mind, he or she is prepared for the boredom and monotony that accompanies research papers. The average student, having access to a library, checks out five or six books which are usually, at best, remotely related to each other. For example, as I heard one rather interesting young student say in The USF Library, “These solid chunks of antiquated information were on the same shelf and they all have the word ‘Japan’ in the title. Let’s go. I’ve got my sources.” Seeing as how the professor is not worried about the content of the books, only that a specific number be used, the student need not worry about the importance of his sources. Obviously, bullshit begets bullshit, as the student discovers when he or she finally sits down to write.
Writing a research paper is pointless. The student reads material which was re-written by some author, who had himself researched the topic using someone else’s research as a basis. So, after our hero has finally read all that can be stomached, he or she must sit down and decide which information they must steal, just as the author of their newly acquired information had done, just as the authors of the references cited in the student’s s book had done, and so on and so forth. Before writing on the computer, of course, the student draws out an outline and perhaps a few rough drafts. Soon he or she concludes that they either have too much or too little information for the topic, but they do not stop. No sir. Research papers have due dates, and that’s quite fitting, for without due dates professors would collectively receive zero papers and students would have the time to make money (which, ironically enough, is why they go to college). So the student bullshits the paper, which is to say, the assignment is either filled with quotes and information that is entirely unrelated to the topic (i.e. filler), or all of the information is summarized in much the fast-paced, slick, high-tempo fashion of the USA Today. Either way, it does not matter, because the professors rarely take the time to actually read the papers. They receive hundreds of them in one day, and in one week, they form a definite and final conclusion about the validity of those papers. More often than not, a teacher’s assistant (who actually has less free time than the average college student) grades the assignments with a certain, apathetic and monotonous regard for the papers’ overall academic importance unbecoming a person whose interest lie in the very field of education. After the paper is turned in, the information is forgotten, the topic is forgotten, and, sometime after the paper’s return, the very point of the entire exercise is forgotten. So it goes.
A research paper, if this were a perfect world, would have a guideline as follows: select a topic in which you are interested that relates to this course, be concise, be coherent, be complete. Use outside sources if necessary.
If assigned-research-papers could follow the guideline above, the students and teachers would both discover an advantage. The students could study what they wanted, as little or as much, and address a topic in which they may have some knowledge or at least some interest. The teachers would receive papers that surprise them, and may take some interest in actually reading them. Some times, we get so caught up in routines, that we forget the goals for which those routines were formed. The research paper was designed to teach us, not to burden us.