Why writing an essay is like choosing a film – Guest post by Professor Alison Young

It is an honour for me to welcome Professor Alison Young, the Sir David Williams Professor of Public Law at the University of Cambridge, to my blog.

Professor Young is a Fellow of Robinson College, Cambridge and an Emeritus Fellow of Hertford College, Oxford. She currently co-edits the UKCLA blog on constitutional law, and is a member of the Editorial Board of European Public Law, and of Public Law. She is also a Fellow of the Higher Education Academy and a trustee of The Constitution Society. She is affiliated with the Oxford Human Rights Hub and with the Programme for the Foundations of Law and Constitutional Government, both at the University of Oxford.

She conducts research in all aspects of public law, both of the UK and the EU. Her main interest is in constitutional theory, particularly dialogue theory, where she draws comparisons between different means of protecting human rights. She is also interested in comparative public law, specifically drawing comparisons between UK law, EU law, the law in other commonwealth countries and France.

Professor Young’s post below draws an original (and humorous!) analogy between essay writing and…choosing a film! I am sure you will enjoy reading it.

Why writing an essay is like choosing a film

by Professor Alison Young

We often receive the same advice about how to write a law essay. Any legal essay is an argument. The argument must answer the question you have been given - not one that you would prefer to have been asked. And the question is never; ‘please tell me what you have read’; or, more worryingly, ‘please write a précis of your textbook and lectures as quickly as possible by the deadline’.

It’s also important that the reader can follow your argument. Structure is crucially important. As is signposting, indicating to your reader why you are referring to a case, or an article, or a blog post, to help make your argument.  Your introduction sets out the argument you are going to make. Each paragraph develops that argument. Your conclusion relates your argument to the wider context. What does your argument tell us about this area of the law more generally, or about the relationship between law and morality, or between law and politics? The more you write, the more you begin to develop your own style, often from reading articles that do - or do not - provide good examples of how to make an argument and using them to help you structure your own arguments and find your own voice.

The reason you keep reading this advice is because it is true. But how do we actually write an argument? How do we  know what side to choose  when making an argument? How can we signpost an argument to the reader if we are unsure of the argument we want to make? 

How do I make an argument?

A lot of this is a process of learning to be critical and to reflect on your reading. Again, easy to say - but not always easy to do. Each of us uses a different process and sometimes we can use a different process for different essays. My students are probably all too familiar with the whiteboard in my college office. I like to use a brainstorming process. I think of relevant facts, or arguments I’ve read. When I see them collated on a whiteboard it can be easier to find what I want to say. I start to see themes, begin to reflect on connections between cases and arguments. I will spot common assumptions that I don’t agree with or reflect on the consequences of different arguments. I also use mind-mapping software if I’m not near my whiteboard. When I use a similar process with my students, they realise that we can make a range of different good arguments in response to the same question – another valuable lesson to learn when it comes to writing a legal essay.

But this process can still feel a little alien and confusing, especially when you are new to studying law, or new to studying a particular area of law. I want you to take a step back and think about it in a different way. Sometimes that can help us reflect on our own writing, particularly when we are new to studying law.

Should I watch this film?

I want you to imagine a conversation between friends. They’re trying to decide which movie to watch as a reward for finally writing that law essay a day before the deadline. They’ve stumbled across the 2020 adaptation of Emma. One friend has seen the film before but does not mind watching it again. The others want to know whether they should watch the film.

The conversation goes something like this - with editorial asides in square brackets.

Friend 1: Charlie, you’ve seen Emma, should we watch it?
Charlie: Well, it was released in 2020, so it’s quite a recent film. It stars Anna Taylor-Joy and Johnny Flynn as Emma and Mr Knightley and there are good performances from Bill Nighy and Miranda Hart…
Friend 2 (a little angrily): Stop. Boring. That’s not helping. You’re just telling me facts about the film. But you’re not telling me why we should watch the film!

[Please answer the question!]

Charlie: Well…(accessing the internet)…Rotten Tomatoes gave it 86%. Metacritic gave it 71%. One critic even says that ‘it’s a wondrous retelling of a timeless literary masterpiece’. That’s got to be good, right?

Friend 3 (sighs audibly): OK. So they think it’s a decent film. But you’ve seen the film. What did you think?

[Make an argument!]

Charlie (thinks for  a while): There are pros and cons. On the plus side, it’s a light-hearted and funny film. The staging is really good and it sets the scene well. There are some nice songs running through it. Did I mention those great cameos from Bill Nighy and Miranda Hart? And, in the end, the nice bloke gets the girl, who becomes a better person. On the downside, the film does not strictly stick to the plot of the book. Not all of the events happen in the same order as the book. There are things in the film that do not happen in the book, and there is too much emphasis perhaps on the ‘sugary’ side of the story.

Friend 1 (looking a bit frustrated): I guess that helps a bit more. But it was a bit ‘clinical’.
Friend 2 (angrily): I still think you’re telling me facts - only this time it’s ‘facts about the pros and cons’. I don’t know whether I’m supposed to watch the film.
Friend 3 (sighs more loudly): I still don’t know what you really think.
Friend 1 (looking even more frustrated): I’m still confused. I’ve no idea whether I should watch the film or not. You’ve not really guided me at all!

[Structure, structure, structure! And don’t forget to evaluate arguments, don’t just set them out!]

Charlie (by this stage a little nervous, and not just about the answer to this question but also about the recently-finished law essay. Sighs deeply and remembers the tutor’s comments on an earlier essay): Here goes. I think you would enjoy the film, because you want to watch the film to have an enjoyable evening and not watch it as literary critics or as Austen-purists. I accept that the film does not strictly follow the plot of the book and that some events happen out of order, and that things are added in that were not in the book at all. However, I would argue that these do not detract from the enjoyment of the film. In fact, I would argue that they even enhance it. They help to portray on film the deeper societal critiques you find in the book. They also help you empathise a little more with Emma’s character, drawing home the pettiness of her environment and the challenges of living with and caring for some of the characters in the book. I accept that Emma is, perhaps, portrayed a little more sympathetically than in the book, but the film still shows her flaws and does not hold back on the criticism of her follies. It is true that the boy does get the girl in the end. However, the witty dialogue means this is no run-of-the-mill romantic comedy. Moreover, both learn from each other about the meaning of real love and friendship and its value over and above the expectations of society. So, all in all, there’s something there for both the casual viewer and the Austen-purist, as the film gently encourages us to reflect on whether views of class, the role of women in society, and our ideals of romantic as opposed to realistic love and friendship really have changed over time.

[There you go – you’ve structured this as an argument, sign-posting each stage of your argument, used facts to back up your argument and even pointed out a potential larger implication of your argument].

Friend 2 (stroppily): Fine - I didn’t want an essay!
Friend 1: I’ll get some popcorn and put on the film.
Charlie: I’ve seen the film. I’m sure you will enjoy it. But I’m off to rewrite the law essay - I’m not sure I gave an argument in response to that question after all…

This may sound a little odd. But sometimes odd examples can help us to think more critically about how we approach things. If this also sounds familiar, it is because this learning process is one that we all go through. So much so that educational theorists have a name for it: the SOLO taxonomy.

I’m off to watch Emma – or maybe rewrite that tricky law article that is sitting on my laptop.