When essay feedback does more harm than good

“I tell them what’s wrong with the writing,” teachers say of their students, “and then their next submissions have all the same problems. Why bother if they just ignore me?”

Teaching staff frequently lament a perceived mismatch between the effort they devote to providing essay feedback and the (lack of) attention students pay to that feedback.

May I gently suggest an alternate explanation for this gap? Students aren’t ignoring your feedback. They read and reread your comments. In fact, they tackle your every critique with the same urgent attention that Amy Adams applies to deciphering the language of extraterrestrial invaders in that movie Arrival. Student effort isn’t the problem. They aren’t the problem.

The problem may simply be that you are bad at giving feedback.

Common culprits in the land of abstractions

If you have taken up a pitchfork in indignant rage, please put it down and consider this question: what are the hallmarks of “good” student writing? That is, what do you value when marking written assignments? I’m guessing your answers include some, if not all, of the following:

Clarity. Precision. Flow. Focus. Criticality. Appropriate scope. Sufficient depth.

I don’t object to this list, in theory; academic writing should aspire to these aims. Indeed, it makes sense that these terms pervade the feedback attached to student essays: “The writing doesn’t flow.” “This lacks depth.” “You need to improve your clarity.” My objection stems from the irony of markers demanding more clarity and precision in feedback language that is itself unclear and imprecise.

Interpreting the meaningful meaningless

I think of the type of feedback vocabulary listed above as the “meaningful meaningless”. A marker comment such as: “The writing doesn’t flow” implies a deficiency in the writing that, if corrected in future, could allow the student to better showcase their ideas and ultimately earn higher marks (and is thus meaningful). However, the word “flow” is an abstraction that gives the student no consistent or obvious first steps to go about improving the writing (thus, meaningless).

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What do students do when confronted with the meaningful meaningless? Fear that the instructor will perceive them as struggling or unintelligent often prevents them seeking clarification during office hours. Asking a peer’s opinion can be a dead end, given fellow students may be just as bewildered by abstractions in feedback discourse and expectations of the hidden curriculum. While feedback decoding guides or videos may provide some insight, it can be tricky deciding which aspects of generalised guidance apply to their own situations.

This is where learning developers working in the “third space” of HE may come in. As a writing skills specialist, I help students decipher the meaningful meaningless (this aspect of my job, you see, is how I know that they aren’t ignoring your feedback). To illustrate the meaninglessness more tangibly, let’s look at examples drawn from one-to-one appointments I’ve had with students:

• “Charli” received instructor feedback that her essay “lacked flow”. She assumed the problem was the overall structure of her work. The actual problem was an over-reliance on long, winding sentences that were tough to follow.
• “Xavier” received instructor feedback that their essay “lacked flow”. They assumed the problem related to grammar or wording. The actual problem was the logical progression of their central argument.
• “Dominic” received instructor feedback that his writing “lacked flow”. He assumed his points were ordered poorly. The actual problem was the absence of topic and transition sentences to frame and move between body paragraphs.
• “Francine” received instructor feedback that her writing “lacked flow”. She assumed she needed to use more transition words and linking phrases. The actual problem was grammar flawed enough to disrupt readability.

All four students revisited their work critically in light of the feedback offered. All four produced different – yet equally feasible – interpretations of “flow”. But none landed on the interpretation relevant to their own assessment. In this manner, overly abstract feedback fails to provide meaningful direction for growth. Instead, it forces students into a meaningless guessing game.

Making feedback mean something

Giving effective feedback is no simple matter. How can feedback foster ongoing learning and development rather than task correction? How can you offer the thorough “personalised” feedback students crave while respecting both your own time and students’ agency?

On the complex journey from the land of the meaningless to the hallowed halls of the meaningful, the key question to return to is this: is your feedback actionable? That is, will the students who read your feedback feel not only empowered but enabled to take action to improve their writing in their next attempt? Not sure? Consider these tips:

• Speak in concrete terms. The quality missing from the writing may be abstract (for example, flow, focus or clarity), but solutions should be concrete. Use the: “Could I highlight it?” test to vet your language. For example, can I highlight the concept of “flow”? No. But I can highlight topic sentences. To that end...
• Think in terms of writing “moves”. Does the student need to present their argument in a thesis statement? Incorporate more academic literature to support their claims? Vary the length and structure of their sentences? Articulating these moves will allow students to act.
• Look forward, not backwards. Many instructors phrase feedback as if its sole purpose is to justify the mark assigned (that is, looking backward). Students, however, read your feedback to better understand what to do next time. Consider how the student can carry forward good practices or refine their skills as needed. To help with this...
• Connect students to developmental resources. Your institution probably offers a wealth of videos, online guides, self-paced modules and other resources to support writing skills. Familiarise yourself with these tools, then create your own inventory of marking phrases with the links included. This makes it quick and easy to provide relevant signposting.
• Get to know your institution’s learning developers. If you are unsure what resources to suggest to students or – even better – would like to collaborate on or suggest new resources to address gaps in skills provision, reach out to your university’s academic skills service, writing centre or library (that is, wherever the word nerds live at your institution). I promise we would love to hear from you.

Alice Stinetorf is writing skills officer at the University of Southampton.

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