Beating the Term Paper Artists
People have been writing about their experiences writing papers for term-paper mills lately.
The novelist Nick Mamatas, in an article entitled "The Term Paper Artist" published recently in Drexel University's interactive online magazine The Smart Set, tells of the years he spent writing papers on every imaginable topic for a term-paper mill. The job was lucrative--who says you can't live off writing!--and he was phenomenally good at it. He could write a five-page paper in 20 minutes. Intelligent, well-educated friends of his tried their hands at it, and ended up in tears, defeated. He reports:
He also tells us that he never felt too bad about helping these students cheat the universities they were attending, because it felt to him as if the universities were cheating the students by taking their tuition and not educating them.
Scott McLemee, in an article entitled "Paper Money" in Inside Higher Education, is more remorseful: he meets and gets romantically interested in a grad student who hears through the grapevine that he's been writing term papers for students:
Okay. But let's be honest. Students are going to cheat, if cheating is at all possible and affordable. Some students cheat because they're what Mamatas's employer called "DUMB CLIENTS" who shouldn't be in college at all; others cheat because they're overwhelmed with work and need a shortcut. But they're going to look for ways to cheat.
The real question here, it seems to me, is not whether buying or writing bought term papers is ethical, but what institutional conditions make it possible for such an industry to exist. In fact, the crappy writing prompts Mamatas's clients had been given suggest that instructors who give such assignments are cheating too, for some of the same reasons the students give. They're ignorant--ignorant about teaching: willfully and obtusely ignorant about the very nature of the job the university is paying them to do. They're too lazy to seek out help in improving their teaching. They're overwhelmed with work and need a shortcut, so they slap down any old tired drivel and call it a writing assignment, and then bitch and moan about student stupidity when they get boring badly written papers in return.
It really isn't difficult, of course, to prevent students from buying term papers. Help students brainstorm their papers in class, in small groups and with the whole class. Require that they submit outlines and annotated bibliographies. Take them to the library and require them to find three sources off their list. Require three drafts of every paper, and mark students down for not submitting all of them, or for not improving their papers from one draft to the next. Hold paper conferences, and get students to talk about their papers. Hold peer-review and peer-editing sessions in class. Not only do students not buy papers for this kind of process; they don't plagiarize, either. Not only that: they tend to become emotionally and intellectually invested in their papers. They care.
The problem with the regimen outlined in that preceding paragraph, of course, is that it takes work. You have to learn how to teach writing, and you have to work hard at writing effective writing prompts, and you have to devote considerable time to preparing for and improving and grading student writing outside of class. It's not for lazy teachers.
That makes me uninclined to point fingers at people like Nick Mamatas and Scott McLemee who help students cheat, in fact. Lazy instructors who make it both easy and rewarding for lazy students to cheat deserve what they get.
More than that: universities and colleges that ghettoize writing in FYW programs are complicit in this cheating as well. As long as the reigning assumption at an institution of higher learning is that FY students should be "inoculated" against bad writing in a course or two taught by English adjuncts and grad students, so that professors in the disciplines can either not assign writing at all or give crappy writing assignments, nothing will change. Universities and colleges that think of writing instruction as something that is done by a cadre of underpaid part-time English instructors, rather than by every instructor on campus, are practically begging their students to cheat. They're generating the market for the term-paper mills. As long as deans and chairs and roster faculty in the disciplines believe that "summarize in three pages the causes of the First World War (page one), the major battles and technological innovations of the war (page two), and to explain the aftermath of the war, including how it led to the Second World War (page three)," is a reasonable paper assignment, people like Nick Mamatas and Scott McLemee will be able to earn a decent living. After all, they're just giving the professors what they want: not a slow painstaking learning process, not critical thinking, but boring papers.
But note that, in calling universities and colleges that do this complicit in their students' cheating, I'm emphatically not saying that all universities and colleges are like this. Not at all. Drexel University, whose magazine The Smart Set published Nick Mamatas's article, currently designates close to 200 courses on campus as "writing intensive"--and every student has to take three to graduate. They offer a three-hour one-semester workshop that trains undergraduate students to work as writing-intensive tutors (WITs). They train faculty members to teach writing-intensive courses.
And Drexel is not the only university doing this. More and more universities are getting the writing-intensive bug (also called Writing Across the Curriculum or Writing in the Disciplines), and a new academic culture centered in learning-to-write and writing-to-learn is growing up. If those programs continue to grow, and university and college administrators and faculty continue to get excited about them, pretty soon the term-paper mills will have no clients, dumb or otherwise. The students will be writing their own papers, and caring about them, and maybe even--stranger things have happened--taking ownership of their own learning.
The novelist Nick Mamatas, in an article entitled "The Term Paper Artist" published recently in Drexel University's interactive online magazine The Smart Set, tells of the years he spent writing papers on every imaginable topic for a term-paper mill. The job was lucrative--who says you can't live off writing!--and he was phenomenally good at it. He could write a five-page paper in 20 minutes. Intelligent, well-educated friends of his tried their hands at it, and ended up in tears, defeated. He reports:
The secret to the gig is to amuse yourself. I have [sic for "had"?] to, really, as most paper topics are deadly boring. Once, I was asked to summarize in three pages the causes of the First World War (page one), the major battles and technological innovations of the war (page two), and to explain the aftermath of the war, including how it led to the Second World War (page three). Then there was this assignment for a composition class: six pages on why "apples [the fruit] are the best." You have to make your own fun. In business papers, I'd often cite Marxist sources. When given an open topic assignment on ethics, I'd write on the ethics of buying term papers, and even include the broker's Web site as a source. My own novels and short stories were the topic of many papers — several DUMB CLIENTS rate me as their favorite author and they've never even read me, or anyone else. Whenever papers needed to refer to a client's own life experiences, I'd give the student various sexual hang-ups.
He also tells us that he never felt too bad about helping these students cheat the universities they were attending, because it felt to him as if the universities were cheating the students by taking their tuition and not educating them.
Scott McLemee, in an article entitled "Paper Money" in Inside Higher Education, is more remorseful: he meets and gets romantically interested in a grad student who hears through the grapevine that he's been writing term papers for students:
Now, cheating my customers out of an education had never seemed a cause for concern. They were doing a pretty thorough job of that on their own. But suddenly I could picture things from the vantage point of an earnest, hard-working instructor who would no more have gamed the system than she would have held up a bank.
All the rationalizations fell away in a second; the embarrassment, so long evaded, now finally hit home. The experience was mortifying. Twenty years later, I still feel it. Regret always comes too late to do anyone much good, but better late than never.
Okay. But let's be honest. Students are going to cheat, if cheating is at all possible and affordable. Some students cheat because they're what Mamatas's employer called "DUMB CLIENTS" who shouldn't be in college at all; others cheat because they're overwhelmed with work and need a shortcut. But they're going to look for ways to cheat.
The real question here, it seems to me, is not whether buying or writing bought term papers is ethical, but what institutional conditions make it possible for such an industry to exist. In fact, the crappy writing prompts Mamatas's clients had been given suggest that instructors who give such assignments are cheating too, for some of the same reasons the students give. They're ignorant--ignorant about teaching: willfully and obtusely ignorant about the very nature of the job the university is paying them to do. They're too lazy to seek out help in improving their teaching. They're overwhelmed with work and need a shortcut, so they slap down any old tired drivel and call it a writing assignment, and then bitch and moan about student stupidity when they get boring badly written papers in return.
It really isn't difficult, of course, to prevent students from buying term papers. Help students brainstorm their papers in class, in small groups and with the whole class. Require that they submit outlines and annotated bibliographies. Take them to the library and require them to find three sources off their list. Require three drafts of every paper, and mark students down for not submitting all of them, or for not improving their papers from one draft to the next. Hold paper conferences, and get students to talk about their papers. Hold peer-review and peer-editing sessions in class. Not only do students not buy papers for this kind of process; they don't plagiarize, either. Not only that: they tend to become emotionally and intellectually invested in their papers. They care.
The problem with the regimen outlined in that preceding paragraph, of course, is that it takes work. You have to learn how to teach writing, and you have to work hard at writing effective writing prompts, and you have to devote considerable time to preparing for and improving and grading student writing outside of class. It's not for lazy teachers.
That makes me uninclined to point fingers at people like Nick Mamatas and Scott McLemee who help students cheat, in fact. Lazy instructors who make it both easy and rewarding for lazy students to cheat deserve what they get.
More than that: universities and colleges that ghettoize writing in FYW programs are complicit in this cheating as well. As long as the reigning assumption at an institution of higher learning is that FY students should be "inoculated" against bad writing in a course or two taught by English adjuncts and grad students, so that professors in the disciplines can either not assign writing at all or give crappy writing assignments, nothing will change. Universities and colleges that think of writing instruction as something that is done by a cadre of underpaid part-time English instructors, rather than by every instructor on campus, are practically begging their students to cheat. They're generating the market for the term-paper mills. As long as deans and chairs and roster faculty in the disciplines believe that "summarize in three pages the causes of the First World War (page one), the major battles and technological innovations of the war (page two), and to explain the aftermath of the war, including how it led to the Second World War (page three)," is a reasonable paper assignment, people like Nick Mamatas and Scott McLemee will be able to earn a decent living. After all, they're just giving the professors what they want: not a slow painstaking learning process, not critical thinking, but boring papers.
But note that, in calling universities and colleges that do this complicit in their students' cheating, I'm emphatically not saying that all universities and colleges are like this. Not at all. Drexel University, whose magazine The Smart Set published Nick Mamatas's article, currently designates close to 200 courses on campus as "writing intensive"--and every student has to take three to graduate. They offer a three-hour one-semester workshop that trains undergraduate students to work as writing-intensive tutors (WITs). They train faculty members to teach writing-intensive courses.
And Drexel is not the only university doing this. More and more universities are getting the writing-intensive bug (also called Writing Across the Curriculum or Writing in the Disciplines), and a new academic culture centered in learning-to-write and writing-to-learn is growing up. If those programs continue to grow, and university and college administrators and faculty continue to get excited about them, pretty soon the term-paper mills will have no clients, dumb or otherwise. The students will be writing their own papers, and caring about them, and maybe even--stranger things have happened--taking ownership of their own learning.


