Get Your Smart On
A guide to commenting on Philosophy and other non-fiction writing on Substack.
I recently announced in our subscriber chat that I would trade one critique for a monthly subscription (see above). It is my way to make Philosophy Publics accessible as I begin to paywall some posts, with the added benefit of feeding the discursive fire for Philosophy stacks. Below is a little guide to how to write a critique for Philosophy and other non-fiction pieces, as I offered to do. Feel free to add to these ideas in the comments below— I would love to hear more about how you approach commenting on others’ posts here.
Being asked to give a critique can be anxiety-provoking. You may fear hurting someone's feelings or coming across as harsh, which can make the whole process feel like a danger zone. But what if we reframed critique as an act of generosity—an opportunity to support and uplift, rather than tear down? A critique need not be negative or critical. You could "riff-off” of someone’s ideas1, say what stayed with you, or what it made you think about. At its core, a critique is a compliment and an act of generosity. If I write a critique for a piece, it is because I found it worthy of my time and efforts. It’s also a way to contribute to a shared world of ideas, offering insights and suggestions that can help the author and her readers broaden or deepen their thinking. Critiquing each other is essential to creating a robust community of thinkers here on Substack. By vetting each other’s ideas, we safeguard the health of our intellectual body politic.
Note that sharing one’s work takes courage, and it often leaves the writer feeling vulnerable. I cringe every single time that I share any details of my personal life, and I sometimes even delete some of it. It feels uncomfortable, but it is also what makes it relatable, human, and even good. So, when someone opens up to you, it is an invitation to do the same. An excellent critique can make for an amazing connection, a meeting of the minds. 😍
When offering a critique, you are going to want to read the work more than once. The first time, you’ll read as an ordinary reader, picking up on general ideas and any details that stand out to you. The first time around, I like to simultaneously read and listen to a piece, as it helps me really focus. Reading it again — I might take notes or mark up the text — you’ll notice more and deepen your reading. We always bring our own understandings and issues to what we read, and reading it multiple times helps you to really hear the author, beyond your own first impressions. On the first reading, your thoughts will be loud, but the second time they’ll quiet down and let you think.
What to take note of, as you read? Let me introduce you to the acronym C.I.A.: Content, Intentions, and Assumptions.2 In your first and second readings, you are reading for content, and you want to try and pick up on any technical terms — terms that are being explicitly defined or are reoccurring, and used in a consistent way. You are also looking for concrete evidence or facts that can be verified, and the logical steps being taken.
Next, consider the intentions behind the text. This step involves understanding what the philosopher is trying to achieve with what they say. (There is what they say, and then what they are trying to do with what they say, often two different things.) Beyond what is explicitly stated, think about the broader context—who or what the writer is responding to.3 Why is the topic important to them, what is at stake?
Finally, delve into the underlying assumptions of the work. Assumptions are often unstated and have to be inferred from the totality of the piece, and requires careful reading to uncover. Sometimes the author can’t see these assumptions for themselves, since they will seem like just common sense ideas to them— it can be useful to be shown these. Identifying these assumptions can also reveal deeper layers of the argument, and gets at the heart of the argument or line of thinking.
Now, let’s say you have some idea of what you want to write, how you want to contribute. Before diving into writing a critique, you should summarize the piece. This demonstrates that you’ve grasped the author’s purpose and main points, that you are dealing with their actual ideas, not some misinterpretation. It establishes that you have read well enough to credibly offer a critique, that your feedback is based on a thorough understanding of the material.
Begin by highlighting what you appreciated—what resonated with you or what you found particularly well-executed. This is where you can say why you wanted to engage with the piece, and declare your own motives. It goes almost without saying: be specific in your feedback. Point to specific lines or passages and explain why they stood out or didn’t work for you. Just as with your reading, you can offer a critique that is based on content, intentions, or assumptions.
A critique at the level of the facts being used, the clarity of technical terms, or the consistency of the logic being deployed contributes to the overall rigour of the piece. Can you verify the facts and evidence they present, and do you accept these? Is the evidence offered relevant and sufficient to back the author’s claims? Point out any areas where the evidence may seem weak or inconsistent. Are technical terms clearly defined and/or used consistently throughout the piece? Pay attention to any shifts in meaning or application of these concepts. Does the logic follow and flow, or are there any logical flaws or mistakes? You are looking for consistency of the reasoning. Be precise in examining how well the author’s premises support their conclusions. Finally, you may offer suggestions for further exploration, adding your own perspective and knowledge. Identify areas where the author could dive deeper or incorporate alternative perspectives to enrich their discussion.
Taking one step further, and entering trickier territory, you may want to ask after the author’s intentions and motivations, which you may or may not share. At this level, you are offering a normative evaluation that involves ethics, politics, or aesthetic considerations. To take a simple example, maybe you agree with the general ideas and the facts are all good, but you thought the point could be made stronger by using another metaphor, or you want to suggest a metaphor to make the argument aesthetically appealing.
Finally, to bring to light an author’s assumptions, especially if they are hidden or obscure, is to get at the heart of the matter. You can really make people think if you can get them to look at their core underlying assumptions. This can be touchy though, so being graceful and kind is really important here.
Some people like to sandwich their constructive criticism between two positive comments. This approach can soften the impact of the critique and makes the feedback easier to digest, but I personally find the sandwich method a tad disingenuous. I do think you should always find something positive to emphasize. There is a reason you read it and wanted to throw your thoughts into the mix, right? If you don’t like anything about a piece of writing, with very few exceptions, don’t engage with it.
When crafting your critique, focus on the work itself, not the person behind it. Keep your comments centered on the text and avoid personal judgments or attacks. This isn’t about rewriting the piece as you would have done it; instead, aim to help the author achieve their vision. Offer feedback from your perspective as a reader with statements like, "I was confused here," or "This section made me think about..." This keeps your critique grounded in your own experience without imposing your own preferences.
Be mindful of your biases and acknowledge how they might influence your interpretation. For instance, you might say, "I’ve never lived on the West Coast, so I may not fully understand X, but from my experience on the East Coast..." Recognizing your own perspective helps ensure a more balanced and fair critique.
Use gentle phrasing to soften your feedback. Instead of pointing out errors directly, try saying, "A reader might find this confusing because..." This approach makes the critique feel more like a conversation than a list of faults. You can also use a “yes, and…” technique: affirm something they wrote and then build on it with your own thoughts.
Focus on the most important areas for improvement rather than nitpicking minor details. When offering suggestions, avoid making them sound like commands. Instead of saying, "You should do this," try, "Consider this..." This leaves room for the author to reflect and decide what changes to make. Remember, it’s ultimately up to them to evaluate the merits of your critique.
If you're still concerned, you can reach out to the author to see if they welcome feedback. Sending your critique to them before publishing can start a conversation. Think of it as entering into dialogue with their writing, much like a respectful conversation with a person, where you aim to be polite and generous. Personally, I enjoy thoughtful critiques—even if they’re tough—but not everyone feels the same, so always approach with care.