“Could,” “Probably,” “Clearly,” and Other Hedges

Literary criticism is not an exact science. When you interpret a poem, novel, or film, how can you be sure your interpretation is correct? The truth is, you can’t. This can make a writer understandably nervous – or at the very least it can make you feel that you ought to acknowledge that your interpretation is only a possibility, not a certainty. So it is that essays often end up with interpretations that begin, “It could be argued that…,” or, “Perhaps the author is referring to…,” or, “It may be that…,” or other forms of these hedges.

The difficulty with such expressions is that they introduce doubt into your argument: as soon as a writer says, “It could be that,” she gives the reader an opportunity to say, “Yes, but it could also not be that.” This is a way of losing control of the conversation, and that’s deadly for someone making an argument. Try, therefore, not to hedge your assertions in this way.

Of course, the problem with such firmness is that you could end up saying a bunch of stuff that isn’t true. When does boldness of attack turn into raving fantasy? The other problem is that someone else could argue the opposite of what you say – who are you to say that this “is” the meaning of the novel? There are two simple ways to solve these problems.

IT IS or IT ISN’T

This is the most basic rule of literary analysis, and it’s especially useful if you’re a beginner:

In literary analysis, an interpretation either is, or it isn’t. If it is, there’s evidence in the text that you can quote, and you should quote that. If it isn’t, there isn’t any such evidence, and you may not make the assertion.

But what does that mean? Well, it means that if you want to make an assertion, you must have textual evidence to back it up. This doesn’t mean that you can only make obvious assertions. If you want to argue that Ernest Hemingway’s works are feminist [which would indeed not be obvious], you are welcome to do that provided you can find things in the texts that, when you explain them rationally, support that argument. You may have to explain them very carefully, and your reasoning may be complex, but provided that a careful, rational explanation explains how and that they are evidence, you are good to go (your explanation, then, cannot be “I feel like this supports my assertion,” or, “I’d like this to support my assertion.” Either it supports it or it doesn’t).

But this of course leads to a problem: not all interpretations have obvious evidence in the text: sometimes you have to persuade the reader to see things your way, and you have to acknowledge that you are persuading, so you don’t look like a fanatic. Also, it’s perfectly possible that you may not feel brave enough to make such firm statements. After all, writers often think, who are you to be making assertions when you haven’t read everything? There’s a perfectly natural desire to be gentler, less certain. But without could, or probably, how do you do that?

VERBS OF PERSUASION

Let’s consider two sentences:

It could be that Joyce is reacting against his Catholic upbringing.

“Polluted priestly crows” suggests that Joyce is reacting against his Catholic upbringing.

You now know that sentence one is a risky formulation: sure it could be, but it also could not be. You don’t want to give your argument that potential weakness.

But look at sentence two. It says exactly the same thing, with just two simple differences: first, it offers hard evidence from the text (the reader can’t argue with the text!); second, it uses a gentle verb that admits its interpretation is not certain, but nonetheless persuades the reader to agree with it.

Such verbs of persuasion are the writer’s secret weapon. They do elegantly the same job that “could” and “perhaps” seek to do thuddingly. Other such verbs are:

seems (“It seems the text wants to have it both ways…”)

links to (“this links to Byron’s persistent fascination with…”)

gestures toward (“such words gesture toward the poem’s concern with …”)

There are also noun forms:

the implication is…

there is the suggestion that…

one cannot help but be struck by…

And you will find others that feel good to you. Where could, maybe, etc. are creepy stalkers (“Listen to me!”), these verbs and noun forms are seducers, gently placing their hand on the reader’s back and guiding him or her toward agreement. And who wouldn’t rather be seduced?

Also, if “could” is your particular poison – as in “it could be said…” – just change it to “can.” This removes the uncertainty, and leaves you with firmness.

“CLEARLY”

Ah, “clearly”! “Clearly” is the sly con man of academic writing. It looks so good! It seems so firm! But in the end it’s usually just there to sucker a reader in.

If you pay attention when you read academic essays and articles, you’ll notice that people usually say “clearly” when the assertion that follows is not clear at all – indeed, they often use it in place of offering evidence that would make that assertion clear. Here’s the deal with clearly:

If it’s clear, you don’t need to say it’s clear – it’s clear. So take “clearly” (or “obviously,” or “surely,” its sneakier cousins) out.

If it isn’t clear, “clearly” isn’t going to save it; evidence is. So put in some evidence, and take clearly out.

Often, writers use “clearly” without realising it, or without realising that they’re using it as a hedge. Just check for “clearlys” as you go along.

Practical Solutions:

Boldness of attack! If you’re putting in hedges because you feel inadequate or insecure, just take them out and check your evidence. If you have sufficient evidence, you don’t need to feel inadequate or

No one ever died from including too much evidence or explaining it too well. If you’re not sure you have enough, or are worried that your explanation isn’t clear enough, give more evidence or explain more clearly.

Be Aware of These:

In writing as in life, you catch more flies with honey than you do with a fly swatter. In this instance, the words of persuasion are the honey.

“Clearly” is almost as sneaky as the passive voice. It’s probably best to go back after you’ve finished your essay and re-check for it, then revise accordingly.

“One could argue” is a long-ish version of “could be” or “perhaps.” If one could argue it, just argue it.