Writing an Abstract

It's not a hook—it's a filter

Sep 27, 2024

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When you write theory, you’re entering a conversation with other people about shared matters of concern. This conversation precedes you and everyone else currently involved. It will continue long after all of you are gone.

Kenneth Burke captures this idea when he uses the metaphor of a never-ending parlor conversation to describe the nature of intellectual discourse. As Burke observes, people generally need to listen until they’ve “caught the tenor of the argument” before they can contribute meaningfully to the discussion.

A pixelated, clear scene of a cozy parlor conversation in the style of an old Gameboy Color video game. The room is warm and inviting with blocky furniture like a fireplace, armchairs, and a table with books. A few characters are sitting and talking, with clear speech bubbles above them, evoking a friendly and intimate atmosphere. The colors are soft, muted, and nostalgic, featuring browns, greens, and warm tones, typical of retro games, with a clear distinction between elements and characters. No random color blurbs should be in the bottom right corner.

I like Burke’s metaphor because it emphasizes that writing is an inherently social activity. Writing always happens in relation to a real or imagined audience, conforms to established genres, and occurs within the context of a discourse community.

But the metaphor begins to break down a bit when you consider a discipline like philosophy, which references a range of conversations — many of which compete, conflict, or don’t have anything to do with one another.

A pixelated scene of a conference in the style of an old Gameboy Color video game. The image shows multiple groups of people having different conversations in various areas of the room. Each group is made of simple, pixelated characters, with their conversations represented by small dialogue boxes or speech bubbles above their heads. The colors are limited to greens, grays, and light colors typical of Gameboy games. The setting should evoke a busy, interactive environment, with distinct groups of people spread throughout, each having their own conversation.

We’re no longer in Burke’s cozy parlor. It’s more like a massive conference, where multiple different conversations are happening in different rooms at the same time. Since the scope and complexity of these conversations can be overwhelming, audiences need an easy way to identify the room they’re looking for.

Since this is a recurring need, a specific genre feature (or subgenre) has developed to help audiences navigate increasingly wide-ranging, complex conversations: the abstract.

What’s an Abstract?

An abstract is a brief summary of a long-form argument. It’s located at the top of any scholarly article or research paper, usually between the title and the introduction.

Abstracts are sometimes described as a “sneak preview” of an argument or research project. But the goal of an abstract isn’t to reach a wider audience—it’s to reach the right audience.

In other words, abstracts are an analog search feature. The rhetorical function of an abstract is to help an audience of experts or specialists sift through the research on a topic and find the material they’re looking for. They aren’t a hook—that comes later. They’re a filter.

A clean, pixelated image of someone looking through a magnifying glass, in the style of an old RPG Gameboy Color video game. The character has simple, blocky features with bright, retro colors typical of Gameboy Color palettes like greens, blues, and yellows. The person is holding a magnifying glass, examining something with clear details visible through the glass. The image should be sharp, crisp, and free of any extra elements, evoking a nostalgic RPG pixel-art feel, with no interface elements.

Since they force authors to explain the significance of their research in a single paragraph, abstracts are often used for conference proposals and manuscript submissions.

Structure of an Abstract

To be rhetorically successful, an abstract has to:

Acknowledge the work that’s already been done. You don’t need an exhaustive list of everyone you’re planning to cite. You just need a single line that shows you’ve been following the conversation and you’re ready to contribute.
Identify the part of the conversation that isn’t receiving the attention it deserves. Writing instructors refer to this as “finding the gap” in the research or literature base.
Describe the specific intervention or contribution you’ll be making to the topic. This includes identifying your method, the series of steps you’ll take to reach your interpretation.
Identify the specific audience you have in mind for your work. While you should always be writing theory that is accessible to a general audience, you also need to be realistic (and specific) about who will actually be reading your work.
Explain why the project matters. Be explicit about why the project is worth the reader’s time and attention. Remember, it doesn’t have to matter to everyone. It just has to matter to your intended audience.

A Template for Abstracts

When I’m helping theorists write their first abstract, I usually start by having them fill out this template.

The goal isn’t to create a cookie-cutter abstract. It’s to help writers quickly condense their argument into a single paragraph that does everything a rhetorically successful abstract needs to do. Once the basic building blocks are there, you can modify as needed. Here’s my template:

Theorists across disciplines have examined ___________. While these ___________ have been widely discussed, scholars of ___________ are only beginning to recognize ___________ as a ___________. In my article, I use ___________ to examine ___________. By attending ___________, theorists can begin to make sense of ___________, even though ___________. This is crucial to ___________ because it means ___________. If we don’t attend to ___________, we will have to deal with <impacts>.

Reminders

A couple of things to keep in mind about abstracts:

Abstracts are meant to be skimmed. They should be written with that in mind. Keep it short. Cut the adverbs. Use clear sentences and short paragraphs. Avoid jargon and name-dropping. Crucial information should appear in the first or last line, where it won’t get overlooked.
Abstracts are a rigid subgenre. They’re formulaic because the formula makes them easy to read. Since audiences rely on abstracts to quickly identify which articles are worth their time, readers have a low tolerance for attempts to “reinvent” or “deconstruct” the abstract as a genre.
Center your work on the topic. Emerging theorists are often tempted to explain the work of the scholars they’re studying, instead of discussing their own contribution to the topic. Specify 1-3 primary authors, theories, or texts you plan on working with, but make sure to focus on what you’re bringing to the table.

Good luck with your writing!