I'm not going to lie: I hate citing my sources.
It's not that I want to "steal the glory" or anything. Plagiarism is the last thing on my mind. It's just that it's so dang time-consuming to copy out quotes in full, to put the citation in the correct format, to look up the exact source where it came from. Everyone is possessed of a wealth of information in certain subjects. When I talk to people, I don't expect them to always tell us where they got that information. The very nature of my carrying on a dialogue with some fellow elocutor is indicative of the fact that I trust what they will tell me.
But, alas! the same standards do not apply in writing. Upon further reflection, I realize that this is only natural. I often do not know the author of a given paper, article, or book -- I have no means of evaluating the trustworthiness of his commentary prior to my encounter with his literature. Thus deprived of trust, I must hold his words to a higher standard than those exchanged in the course of casual conversation. I must have access to the same knowledge that he accessed -- I must, at the very least, be assured the capacity of tracing the veracity of the author's claims to the original source.
And, most tragically, I must offer my readership the same. The extra minutes logged at my desk, however, I propose, will be well worth the lost time -- when a reader is confronted with an author who is transparent and intellectually honest, the reader will (or at least should) convey some level of credulity to the words with which he is engaging.
This necessity for rigorous citation has spawned in me a process of searching and identifying those sources necessary to my writing. I've been asked to explain this process -- which I'll happily do! However, the purposes and methods for implementing sources in a given work are many and varied. This adds to our inquiry some level of difficulty -- I believe that it is impossible to search for a source without first possessing and idea of the function that it will serve. So, we'll first examine the ways sources can be used, how they ought be implemented, and then we'll go over how to find the source that fits one's needs.
Kyle D. Stedman, in a treatise called Annoying Ways People Use Sources, gives us our first ground rule: "It helps me to remember that the conventions of writing have a fundamentally rhetorical nature. That is, I follow different conventions depending on the purpose and audience of my writing, because I know that I’ll come across differently to different people depending on how well I follow the conventions expected in any particular writing space." (Stedman, 244) Stedman is absolutely right in his analysis, and the implications for the writer are critical. One's audience governs one's writing. Writing ought to meet a certain demand. That is not to say that the writer should be beholden to his audience to express their personal views -- rather, the writer's views are worthless (or at least, the time spent transcribing his views has been squandered) if they are incapable of reaching anyone.
Understanding this, I think, gives one a basis for his source search. If a paper is intended to persuade, then it needs not only information, but must also be possessed of an antithesis -- something that the reader should be swayed against. Additionally, while one can stand utterly alone, it usually lends a writer a helpful sprinkling of ethos when he can demonstrate himself as being surrounded with like-minded thinkers.
This gives us three unique and equally important types of sources: data, villain, and ally. Data is the critical evidence, the warrant for the claim. The villain is the opposing view -- this source must be treated seriously and with respect, if the objective of the writing is to sway a hostile reader. The ally is the source that shows that we stand, not alone, but as the heirs of a long and rich intellectual tradition -- and if the reader has the audacity to disagree with me, as the author, then by golly they'd better have the guts to disagree with all of these smart folks!
The trouble with quoting sources that have fundamentally distinct and diametrical views to other sources that you also are quoting, is that the reader might become confused. Not to worry! Stedman rescues us again: "In the majority of situations, readers appreciate being guided to and led away from a quotation by the writer doing the quoting. Readers get a sense of pleasure from the safe flow of hearing how to read an upcoming quotation, reading it, and then being told one way to interpret it. Prepare, quote, analyze." (Stedman, 247) The idea here is very simple: tell your readers what to think. After all, that's what your doing throughout the rest of your paper.
If you don't know quite how to go about telling them what to think, ask yourself: "What do I think about this quote?"
"Good question, Me. I think that, while the rhetoric sounds persuasive, it's actually a lot of hogwash."
This internal dialogue then translates on paper to something along the lines of, "Despite his ostensible persuasiveness, Smith's articulation of the facts remains uncomfortably illiberal and judicious. He says..." You give the quote, and then you give your reasons why you agree or disagree with the quote, but FIRST you give your opinion of the quote. First you give your thesis, then you give the antithesis, then you refute the antithesis and explain why, ultimately, you're right. And that's all there is to it. If you can make the distinction between those views favorable, neutral, and hostile toward your position, then you can tell the reader where that distinction lies. If you can't make that distinction, then, well... I can't help you there.
So, we, know what kind of sources we need. And we know how to implement them once we get them. But how to go about acquiring those citations?
In all cases, the citation should be that which is most credible. However, that does by no means indicate that it ought to be the most "academic." Rather, we must keep in mind what Stedman told us: "the conventions of writing have a fundamentally rhetorical nature." (244)
Sun Tzu, I think -- ironically enough, I don't have a specific citation -- but, I think it was Sun Tzu who first said, "Know thyself and thine enemy, and you shall win a hundred battles." The same goes for rhetoric, where the first rule is "know your audience." Since writing is a fundamentally rhetorical art, to be effective, you must know your readership. This has significant impact on source citing.
There is no such thing as objective credibility. Rather, certain sources are granted a high degree of credulity by certain audiences -- others are disparaged. A different audience might have a contrary estimation of a given source's credibility. Thus, the first consideration in your source search must be your audience.
I run a small blog, A Shortage of Sand, where I share my opinions on economic and social issues facing the United States and the world today. I write it for two groups -- my friends who share my libertarian views, and my friends who are, in essence, socialists. When I use a source to express an opinion, I attempt always to ensure that the source will help me win over those specific audiences.
If I am explaining a view with which I disagree, I'll find a source that expresses the sentiment I am attempting to refute, that I know my socialist friends trust and esteem. This way, I assure them that I am representing their position in the best possible light -- I am, after all, explaining their position with the words of their ideologies' most trusted prognosticators. Likewise, when substantiating my own opinions, I quote others with whom I fundamentally agree -- I would not, for example, take an Obama quote out of context to defend fiscally conservative views. This assures that part of my readership who agrees with me that I am effecting their worldview in the best light possible. In short, regardless of whether or not my audience agrees with me, I have demonstrated my interest in their opinions, and showed how my own two cents are worth listening too. I am thus rendered intellectually honest and transparent -- not to mention that I have made own position more clear, by drawing lines of association between two opposed groups, as opposed to having a muddled huddle of philosophers swimming around my writing.
When it comes to gathering data specifically, I confess that my methods are erratic, or, more accurately, non-existent. I don't have a system in place. I just read. A lot. And that gives me data that I often end up communicating in a piece of writing. There is nothing so helpful to writing as reading -- and this is especially true when it comes to the osmosis of facts.
What is most infuriating to me, as a reader, is when an author does not give me sufficient context to interpret the quote. When I say context, I do not mean the context in which the quote originally appeared (although that might be important) but rather the contextual aspect of the author's own thoughts. I want to know how the quote fits into things. I want to know why the quote is there.
Stedman points out that, without sufficient context, "Readers get the feeling that they’re moving from one quotation to the next without ever quite getting to hear the real point of what the author wants to say, never getting any time to form an opinion about the claims. In fact, this often makes it sound as if the author has almost no authority at all." (248) This goes back to what I was saying earlier, about the necessity of analyzing the source's claims.
It is useless to cite for the sake of citation. You are writing to further a specific objective. Your citations are part of that writing. Cite, therefore, to further your objective. This means that, not only is it enlightening to your readership, but necessary to your literature, to analyze your citations. If you are incapable of that analysis, then your readership will not trust you. They will read along politely, thinking all the while, "Clearly, this author has no opinions of his own. He simply gives me the opinions of others. Why am I reading him? I should go read these others who seem capable of independent thought." Boom. Authority lost.
And when an rhetorician has lost the battle of ethos, his opinions, however well articulated, are nonetheless articulated with the utmost futility.
So cite away! It's arduous task, but well worth it. There's a world out there that's ignorant of all sorts of cool little tidbits you know -- and it's up to you to save them from that ignorance. But your attempts will be useless if you do not cite, and your citation will be useless if not done to the very best of your ability. Use sources that your audience approves of. Express opposing views in the best possible way. Make your enemy's case for them -- then, when they've agreed that you have accurately expressed what they are arguing, tear it down with fact after fact and quote after quote from those whose shoulders you stand upon.
Above all: do not let those citations get away from you. Your sources are just that -- yours. Use them well. Place them in the contextual analysis of your own beliefs and explain why they matter to your audience, who is, ultimately, the final arbiter on your success or failure as a communicator. People are generally decent about caring when they know that they should. Your sources are useless -- until, of course, your audience cares. When they care -- when they understand how each citation fits into the vast network of brilliant thought you are excogitating before them -- then, your citations acquire the power that they are always credited with having. They win the battle of ethos. They reveal you as the moral, honest, and fair rhetorician that you are. And when the audience knows that you are moral, honest, and fair, they trust you. And when they trust you, then there is no limit to the impact that your words will have.