Why I Write. (No, Really, Remind Me Again -- Why Do I Write?)

In keeping with the ongoing peek behind the veil of law school teaching on this blog (or blawg, or...[sigh]), I want to ask the question: why do we write?  This is a surprisingly difficult question on which I'd be curious to hear from my fellow bloggers (or blawgers, or...forget it).  Let me limit it to the question, why do we write legal scholarship?  Why do we blog can be left for another time, or perhaps for a discussion between us and our respective deans.

There have been some interesting exchanges on this question from time to time, and I recommend the articles in the Fall 2004 issue of the San Diego Law Review.  I attended the AALS session at which these papers were delivered, and I think the question has remained with me ever since.  One thing that particularly struck me was Kimberly Yuracko's statement that she wrote legal scholarship "to change the world."  She may have spoken these words, or I may have misremembered: the article refers to writing as "a political world . . . . to advocate for social changes that will make society more just and encourage people to live more satisfying and rewarding lives." 

She is suitably realistic about the actual prospects of achieving this goal in her paper; but I remember hearing the words and having a strong negative reaction.  I think writing legal scholarship (or most other kinds of scholarship in the humanities) to change the world is generally a mug's game.  If that were truly the goal, why don't more legal scholars write basic empirical or doctrinal work that might actually achieve marginal change?  Why, in particular, do so many people who do want to "change the world" write precisely the kinds of pieces -- heavy on the theory and systematizing -- that is least likely to do so?  If the goal is actually to change the world in some practical utilitarian sense, why not stay in practice?  I don't want to be too critical.  Surely it's a noble goal, if it's actually sincere and not just self-serving.  And it is possible; I happen to think Dan's writing has a fair chance of doing so, although it is highly theoretical, because it narrows in on specific issues and because he practices what he preaches.  (I should say that I have no idea why he writes.)  But most people who write to change the world know they won't do so; yet they keep writing. 

Why else, then?  Well, "for tenure" is always a good reason, and both Yuracko and Yale Kamisar mention it.  "For fun" would be another reason, but Kamisar is rightly skeptical of it.  Legal scholarship is fairly hard work, especially because in our precedent-oriented field, there is very little free and easy movement of pen across paper and a great deal of collation and cross-referencing.  "For money" would work in many fields -- and don't forget what Samuel Johnson had to say on the subject.  I assume I am not the only legal scholar who is invariably asked by his parents, upon announcing that some journal or other is about to publish my work, "And how much will they pay?"  Um....  "For tenure" is the closest we generally come to this reason, or "for promotion," etc.

For me -- and this may be a way of dodging the question rather than answering it, exactly -- it's utils all the way down.  I write because I more or less like writing, and am more or less compelled to do it.  I write because I love finishing writing: the most enjoyable part of a piece of writing is often the accomplishment one gets in typing the words "the end."  I write because I keep thinking of the look of my name and work all neatly typeset and printed -- although, when my work finally comes out, I am always struck by the sense that it's not real, that the other journals mean something but in my case someone just set the thing in type as a favor.  I write for my own ego; because I want to enhance my reputation; because I want to be cited, and invited to nifty symposia, and all the rest of it; I write because (and I think this is what most people who say they write to "change the world" really mean) I kind of want to change the world too, but not in any way that would unduly interfere with my other goals or endanger my class status, and writing is a reasonable way to strike that balance.  Not least, I think, I write for fear of death.  The grave beckons, and the cold immortality of being preserved in a library cellar somewhere is better than none at all. 

Why do you write?