Why Does a PhD Need an Editor?

Title page for If Everything Happens that Can't Be Done. It should someone practicing yoga while standing on a stack of book. Branches are growing out of their upraised hands.
If Everything Happens that Can’t Be Done is forthcoming in 2019.

When I told a friend that my forthcoming book on student transformation had been assigned to an editor, he asked, “Why do you need an editor?  You have a PhD and you write well.”  He is correct on both points.  But, as a PhD who writes well, I know that editors help improve my writing.

People often think that an editor is someone who proof reads your text.  And that is part of their job.  For example, my editor discovered that I had dropped a word from a sentence.  They also copy edit for typographical errors.  But copy editing is the least important skill that a quality editor brings to the author/editor relationship.

A previous editor once criticized a sentence in which I wrote that “the professor is the most important person in the classroom.”  A copy editor would have found nothing wrong with the sentence, but my editor rightly pointed out that using the word “important” undercut my entire thesis concerning the value of student-centered classrooms.  What I meant to say was “powerful.”   

In their comments, my editor copy edits and, more importantly, pushes me to be a better writer.  They know that I am already a good writer or my book would never have made it to their desk.  Their job is to make me better.  I am reminded of the extraordinary cellist Pablo Casals who, when asked why he kept practicing, responded “Because I think I am making progress.”  No matter how accomplished I am as a writer, I can continue to make progress with the help of editors.

Sometimes, the editorial comments are simple: “I want to encourage you to choose a different way to articulate this [for the following reason].”  I then think about what she suggested and make appropriate revisions.  Note, I am not using the word “corrections” because there is generally nothing incorrect with the original.  The text is being revised into something better; not corrected because the original was wrong.

At other times, my editor and I enter into dialogue.  They make a suggestion and I ask for clarification and we talk.  “Could you help me with a little more detail about [reference],” I asked.  “I am not familiar enough with the reference to catch your point.”  The process is one of listening with mutual respect. 

Dialogue is real.  The goal is not for me to eventually adopt their suggestions.  When my editor commented “I think it’s very important to identify the particularities of [something to help clarify this point],” I responded that I would prefer to do something else.  Their suggestion was valid, but I thought there was a better way to approach the edit. If they disagree, we will continue the discussion. 

Some of the most exciting comments come when my editor suggests books and articles to read during the revision process.  Reading Mark Gaipa’s “Breaking Into the Conversation: How Students Can Apply Authority in Their Writing” (Pedagogy, 4.3, 2004) might seem excessive to revise one sentence in one paragraph.  But the insights provided will be invaluable as I continue to think and write about student transformation; especially from the perspective of a professor who encourages students to write from their authority.

As Cathy N. Davidson argued in “From Dreaded to Amazing” (Inside Higher Ed, 12 Feb 2019), the relationship between editor and author should be a positive experience.  Should not the same be said about the relationship between student and professor?

One of the problems we often have in creating an exciting dialogue with our students is the limitations of educational technology.  Last semester, I worked with students on a major project that would have benefited from the types of interaction I am having with my current editor.  Yet, because I relied on having manuscripts submitted via the college’s course management system, such dialogue was hampered.

Although more technologically advanced, the reality is that responding to manuscripts submitted online is essentially no different than the process when, more than 40 years ago, I wrote a paper on my Smith Corona and handed it to my professor during class; a professor who would return it during a future class with notes. 

When I approached this semester’s courses, I decided to have students create Google Docs for their manuscripts so that we can have the type of exciting editor/author interaction that benefits me so much.  My students have not yet posted manuscripts this semester.  But, as they do, I hope that we will have the same type of intellectually stimulating conversation as I am having with my editor; a type of conversation not possible in the traditional way of submitting manuscripts for comment.

So “Why Does a PhD Need an Editor?”  For the same reason as do my introductory writing students.  We want to see progress.

–Steven L. Berg, PhD

Edit: I have never met my current editor and I made assumptions about their preferred pronouns which were incorrect. My editor uses they/them or he/him pronouns. I have corrected the essay to reflect their preference.



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