Having recently spent considerable time writing abstracts for some papers-in-the-making, I thought I’d share another post on the topic, even though it has been heavily featured on this blog before.

As you may already know, I advocate for writing the abstract before the rest of the paper, contrary to what is advised by some writing guides, e.g., this one (thanks Riitta H for the tip). Why?

To me, writing the abstract is, first and foremost, an exercise in thinking, to the extent that the written abstract itself can feel almost like a byproduct.

This exercise is all about clearly understanding what the paper is about: what the research question being asked is, why it is being asked, what the outcome is, and why should someone be interested in it.

While most of these questions may have been answered when the research was designed – e.g., you don’t build an expensive experimental setup without knowing why and what for – this is not always the case. Sometimes the data lead to unexpected directions, rendering the initial question obsolete. More often than not, your perspective shifts along the way: the initial question becomes something larger or morphs into something else. But what exactly?

To figure this out, you’ll need to give the abstract a go before even considering the rest of the paper. So, how to write the abstract of a research paper? As those who have read my book or attended my writing lectures know, the abstract template that I recommend is the same as the one used by Nature. Not because it’s Nature, but because it does exactly what it should: it forces you to think clearly.

In plain language, the abstract template goes like this (sorry, Nature, for this abuse):

1. There is an important phenomenon/topic/something.
2. But within it, there are unknowns that need to be sorted out for achieving X.
3. In particular, we don’t know Y, because of something that was missing until now.
4. Here we solve the problem of Y using a clever method/experimental design/something.
5. We discover Z, which is surprising for some reasons.
6. Knowing Z advances our scientific field like this.
7. More broadly, understanding Z makes the world a better place in this way.

This template helps you refine your story and the point of your paper and serves as an acid test: if you cannot write the abstract, you are not ready to write the paper. It also ruthlessly exposes any gaps in your thinking, which is excellent because it’s a template, not Reviewer #2 who gleefully rejects your paper from the journal and taunts you in the process.

Writing the abstract first using the above template helps you improve your paper on your own before it is even written (which is optimal, isn’t it).

In fact, I often try to formulate a mock abstract that follows the template during the very early stages of a research project, often well before the final results materialize. I find that this helps to understand where the project is going, and what might still be required. If I feel confused [narrator’s voice: which happens very frequently], the template sometimes shows the way.