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Having taught both "business communication" and "technical writing" in their infinite variety, I tend to read with more than routine interest the outpouring of articles on what titles one ought to give to courses in these related, if outwardly different, fields. Pauley and Riordan's definition of technical writing is not the best reference to work with; while it seems comprehensive, it rambles so that it is itself the antithesis of good writing. But I am sure most colleagues will agree that one doesn't have to browse in many texts to realize that very few professors-as-textbook-writers practice what they preach. As a group, we are a garrulous lot, a situation abetted by textbook publishers who always seem to want big, overstuffed books that will somehow (they reason) help to justify the exorbitant selling prices.

Experienced teachers of writing have long recognized what a number of more recent writers seem to learn only from formalized research "projects," after which they publish the results in a paper on such topics as a survey of course titles (or the analysis of course content) in, say, 10 or 12 colleges. While writers of all genres and styles can be guilty of reinventing the wheel on occasion, I sometimes feel that some current communications instructors, in the enthusiasm of rushing into print, are not aware they are repeating prior research and duplicating conclusions already expressed. Terence may well have uttered a general truth in his "Nullum est iam dictum quod non dictum sit prius." Much of what is being said in today's academic writing on communications courses has, indeed, been said before.

A problem has long existed, of course, with the term "technical writing" at best, to say nothing of "business English" or "business communication." That such was the case was recognized early not only in the profession, but in the teaching and training of practitioners in writing and editing as well. Jay R. Gould, professor emeritus at Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute and founder-director of the pioneer Technical Writers Institute, took the best approach when he coined the term "professional writing" some three or four decades ago. Professional writing -- or, if you prefer, writing for the professions, as Gould, John Mitchell, and others sometimes expressed it -- avoids the narrowness of technical writing and incorporates at once all related areas, including "engineering writing" (which is not necessarily writing by engineers, as G. Campbell determined in The [ABC] Bulletin, June 1991), "medical writing" and "business writing."

Too many authors today seem unaware that Rensselaer -- along with other universities -- has long been teaching in their "technical writing" courses the skills and kinds of communication that are the focus of some present-day articles in the literature of business and management.

Perhaps article writers overlook the continuing need to do library research before embarking upon a topic -- something that was stressed ad nauseam (but not unnecessarily) in Freshman Composition and other writing courses two or three decades ago. It's an important requisite to scholarly writing, and students must be made aware of it. Certainly, instructors should not teach communication courses, whether technical or business by title, in a vacuum. After all, writing in/for the technical and industry worlds is but a specialty within the general field of writing, as Dr. Robert H. Johnson of the General Electric Company's Research and Development Center cogently observed, in addressing characteristics of "the writing game" I quoted years ago in my Preparing Effective Reports.

In the same vein, Scientific American publisher Gerard Piel told an early technical writers conference at the University of Pennsylvania that good writing is an art, not an accident.

"Effective communication of scientific thought or technical communication," Piel said, "does not just happen; even as the poet, the novelist, or the dramatist must master his craft before he can give form and meaning to what he has to say, so must the scientist learn to use language with precision, clarity and grace if he will reach the minds of other men."

Students of professional writing need to be made aware that the writer's audience (to paraphrase Johnson) is frequently captive and too infrequently captivated. Good writing, technical or otherwise, should always be capable of capturing and holding the reader's interest.

Whether one teaches business communication or technical writing (or some amalgam of the two), the first statements an instructor makes in class should be to apprise students that the course upon which they are embarking is but a specialty within a larger field of writing, that their courses in English composition, philosophy and survey of literature (and the papers written for those courses) will all apply to the specialized communication field they now must address. (One must, it follows however, be familiar with the professional jargon and acronymic usages in the particular field.) Second, the instructor would do well to focus as much upon Gerard Piel's precision, clarity and grace as upon differentiating kinds of writing and rigid rules of format.

The end product -- effective communication -- is what it's all about. With that in mind, it makes little difference what the title of the course is. That ought to be the message to students, whether in colleges of engineering, business or management.

Lionel D. Wyld, Fellow of the Society for Technical Communication, Boston Chapter, and Senior Member of the Association for Business Communication, has taught at Notre Dame University, University of Buffalo, Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute and Syracuse University. He was on the staff of Rensselaer's pioneer Technical Writers Institute for ten years. He also worked as research editor at University of Pennsylvania and Cornell University, director of science information at Syracuse University Research Corporation, administrative director of INDOX Systems Research, and assistant to the vice-president for research at University of Buffalo.