One of the fundamental skills in making arguments is to be able to accurately convey the arguments of others. In writing teacher circles, we often call this “summary,” but I’ve found that this word can be somewhat misleading. A good summary doesn’t just repeat what someone else said as a kind of regurgitation of content; it distills the original text down to its core meaning.
A good summary zeroes in on the main idea of the text, the author’s point. It captures the forest without describing all the individual trees. When you summarize, it is as though you are standing in the shoes of the original author and are the vessel through which their ideas flow. Now, when you write something that brings a summary of another person’s argument together with your own argument, you may reveal strong disagreements (or agreements, or a mix of both) with this other person’s argument, but while summarizing the other’s argument you’re trying to be as true to the original as possible.
Ideally for the audience, the summary stands in the place of having to read the original text. They can trust you, the summarizer, to accurately convey what this other person was claiming to be true.
For a summary to be effective, it must be shorter, often a good deal shorter, than the original article; otherwise, why are your summarizing it?
The audience is curious about an argument put forward in the article you’re summarizing, but they don’t have time to read it. They’ve come to you to find out what the fuss is about. They trust you and won’t be immediately checking on the accuracy of your summary, but they will obviously have enough information to do so, if they desire, at some future point.
If they find out you’ve steered them wrong, you may permanently lose credibility as a source to be trusted.
These are readily available. Every newspaper has an op-ed (opinion and editorial) section. Websites are constantly publishing arguments, which is why we can spend so much time arguing with total strangers on social media. Make sure the article comes from a verifiably credible source, and choose an argument in which you’re interested.
Read the article once through to get the gist. With practice, you can usually do a mostly accurate summary after a single read-through, but it’s a good habit to do one read, then go back and check your understanding.
Are there any parts you kind of get but not entirely? What about vocabulary that you mostly understand in context but are also maybe guessing about a little bit?
Perhaps the article refers to an incident or idea in a way that assumes you’re familiar with it, but you aren’t. Take some time to fill any gaps in your knowledge, until you feel you have an excellent handle on the article. These days, we have wonderfully handy tools at our fingertips (or thumb tips) to work with.
Keeping your audience and purpose in mind, draft your summary. You’ll want to focus on the argument, really distill it to its essence. As you write, you should give the argument to the author, using their name and a verb that conveys the fact that they’re the one making the argument, such as: “Warner believes writing an accurate summary is a ‘fundamental’ skill for writing arguments.”
Notice the difference between that sentence and something like this: “Warner wrote about how summaries are used in arguments.”
The second example doesn’t share any claim I (Warner) made. It describes content rather than summarizes argument. Verbs like “believes,” “claims,” “argues,” even “says” (provided it’s followed by a claim) help make sure you’re focusing on the original author’s argument.
Once you’ve identified the main idea, think about your audience. After hearing the central claim, they’re likely to be thinking, “Why? Why does this person believe this thing I’m being told?”
Use the remainder of the summary to tell them why the original author believes what they believe. You will be supporting that initial claim about the main argument with a series of other claims. It’s like those Russian nesting dolls. You start with the big doll by making a claim, open it up, and then each doll is another claim that supports the one before it.
Find someone who has not read the article you’re summarizing and have them read your summary.
When they’re done, without letting them refer to your summary, see if they can accurately summarize your summary.
Next, have them read the original article. Have them write a one-sentence summary of the main point after reading the article. Does it match up with what they got from your summary?
If something is off, discuss it with your tester. What meaning are they getting that you’re missing? It’s possible they’re off base and you’re on target. Hash it out until you’re satisfied that you’ve accurately captured the original.
A summary rarely stands by itself, but it’s worth taking the time to address any of your reader’s questions or concerns.
This is going to sound odd, but I believe reading is one of our most difficult skills. It sounds odd because everyone we’re talking about here knows how to read, but it is very hard to read well, and there are a lot of forces working against allowing us to read for deep understanding and engagement.
When a reading is forced on you, sometimes it can feel overwhelming, making skimming highly tempting. Sometimes the reading seems initially dull or uninteresting, either dividing our attention or leading to the old “I ran my eyes over the words, but I don’t remember a thing” sensation I know so well.
Often we’re incentivized to read quickly, gleaning the gist because the gist might be enough to figure out a question on a multiple-choice exam or convince someone we laid eyes on the document, but in the process we often miss something. When writing a summary, this can turn into a game of telephone, where a message is passed around the circle. As the original message moves from person to person, each person misses a little bit in turn, and the meaning ultimately becomes distorted in large, not small, ways.
I know I experience this in my own writing, but it’s true when I read student work as well. I’m so conditioned to look for mistakes that I start to see flaws where they aren’t present, or I may overlook virtues because I’m too busy focusing on other things.
Reading deliberately, checking my understanding, and not settling for the gist has become a really important skill for me. I don’t always employ it, and it’s not always necessary, but I know when I need it, it’s there.
After this experience, maybe try practicing being more deliberate in your reading. When the reading is important, I think you’ll find it actually saves time. When you need to make use of what you’ve been reading, you’ll have a much better handle on what you’ve read.
Once you’ve crafted a good summary, it’s time to respond with an argument of your own.
Do you agree or disagree with the original author’s opinion? Or is it some mix of the two? On the one hand, I believe X, but on the other hand, I believe Y.
A response to an original summary seeks to extend the argument by adding to it. This is not just a chance to say someone else is wrong (or right). It’s a chance to extend the conversation.
The best way to think of it is to go back to your audience. Think of them as an interested third party who is trying their best to understand the issue being argued over. Your response is meant to enhance their understanding.
Make sure you start your response by declaring where you stand (agree, disagree, or a bit of both), followed by answering the likely next question, “Why?”
Focus on satisfying the audience’s curiosity over this issue while also trying to be the most persuasive voice in the chain of argument. This means not only being clear with your own claims but offering evidence and argument in support of those claims.