One
INTRODUCTION AND OVERVIEW

Most of us have, at some point in our lives, when we really needed it, had the happy fortune of receiving support and guidance from thoughtful and generous people we admire—such are the memories from which gratitude is made and the desire to serve is born. Most of us, too, have had the awkward and possibly unpleasant experience of having been “helped” by rather unhelpful people. Some kind souls are merely naive or clumsy; others—less kind—are presumptuous and intrusive. Even if their impulse to help is in some ways admirable, they are not tuned in to the subtleties of the situation or to the needs of the people they are ostensibly helping. Professional helping requires something a little more refined than just the simple desire to help.

Psychological assessment is the application of scientific rigor to the gentle art of figuring out what is going on before one attempts to be helpful, before one blunders into the most vulnerable moments of the intricate lives of others. The uncommon courtesy of listening closely to what people want and need—even before any direct aid is offered—can itself be a great comfort to people temporarily overwhelmed by circumstance.

Assessment professionals, as a group, are exquisitely sensitive to the needs of others. Most readers of this book choose to work in the helping professions because they have a talent for empathy and are eager to be a force for kindness, community, and justice in this world. Many of us have made numerous sacrifices, small and great, to be in the position in which we can be of service to others. Yet, there are forces and pressures at work that often cause otherwise caring and competent professionals to write psychological assessment reports that are not particularly helpful.

It is a common and long‐standing complaint that psychological evaluation reports are difficult to read and often fail to communicate useful information (Cuadra & Albaugh, 1956). It is hard to imagine that writing dry, stodgy, routine psychological evaluation reports was what attracted you to this discipline. Yet, dry, stodgy, routine reports are rather common in our field, even though psychologists, diagnosticians, and other assessment professionals are not, by and large, dry, stodgy lovers of routine.

It is clear that reports should be clear, but it is clearly not helpful to simply tell professionals to write more clearly. If mere encouragement to write clearly would have worked, it would have worked already—the call for clarity is repeated in every how‐to article and book on assessment report writing we have ever read (or written). Yet, even exemplar reports in assessment textbooks are in many cases quite difficult for typical members of the public to understand (Harvey, 2006). This is, of course, not always true, and there are delightful exceptions (e.g., Mather & Jaffe, 2011). Nevertheless, the rarity of these gems raises the question: Why is it so hard for caring, capable, and conscientious practitioners to resist the urge to write reports that are difficult to read?

It is our contention that assessment professionals generally write such reports—not because they want to, and not because they have to, but because they have been asked to—by training programs, institutional guidelines, and legal mandates (real and imagined). Perceived local norms add weight and inertia to many unhelpful ideas and practices that would not otherwise survive thoughtful scrutiny (“That’s the way we’ve always done it ’round here.”). Although most assessment traditions and practices are well intended, too many interfere with clear, empathic communication of practical information.

Fortunately, the forces and pressures that keep us from writing better reports are more than counterbalanced by our natural desire to strive for excellence in the service of others. A core theme of this book is that we should fearlessly look past all distractions from writing helpful reports, preserving time‐honored traditions that we have good reason to maintain and respectfully mothballing those that are no longer relevant or useful. If we can achieve clarity regarding our core professional values and the essential mission of the assessment enterprise, our reports can become not only more informative but also actively transformative.

This book is designed for novice report writers, students and interns in training, and professionals who are required to read and understand reports prepared by others. The book is also intended for professionals in the field who desire to improve their skills in preparing and writing assessment reports. As Salend and Salend (1985, p. 277) asked: “What if professionals were given a letter grade on the educational assessment reports they write? Would you get an ‘A’ or an ‘F’ or merely an average ‘C’?” Although we would not relish being subject to Salend and Salend’s hypothetical grading system, we appreciate questions that stimulate productive self‐evaluation. We likewise hope that our critique of current practices encourages individual reflection and profession‐wide reform.

This text is designed to cover all aspects of preparing a written report as well as provide illustrative samples of clear, informative reports. This first chapter provides an overview of the purposes of report writing as well as a brief discussion of the major sections of a report. Chapters 2 and 3 review many technical aspects of writing, including presentation of the printed word on the page and subtle tips for ensuring that your report communicates effectively. Each subsequent chapter focuses on the creation of a specific part of a report: the reason for referral and background information (Chapter 4), discussion of appearance and behavioral observations (Chapter 5), test results and interpretation (Chapter 6), diagnostic impressions and summary (Chapter 7), and recommendations (Chapter 9). Chapter 8 discusses personality assessment. Chapter 10 presents special issues related to reports, including feedback, follow‐up, and the use of computer‐generated reports. Chapter 11 is a collection of tips about report writing. Chapter 12 presents several sample case reports.

THE ESSENTIALS OF ASSESSMENT

The fact that the title of this book contains the word essentials might be misleading. By essentials, we do not mean dumbed‐down pablum aimed solely at people who have never thought about assessment before. Rather, we take the essentials of report writing to mean the fundamental organizing principles of our discipline. The essentials are not simple, easy, and obvious; they are that which we cannot do without. They are the core ideas that prevent us from losing our way, writing reports that are irrelevant, confusing, alienating, or otherwise unhelpful. They are the guiding ideals that move us to write reports about individuals that uncover truths, clarify misunderstandings, restore hope, and inspire change.

DON’T FORGET

Note that our use of the term decision‐makers does not merely refer to powerful others, such as parents, teachers, helping professionals, and administrators. The most important decisions in individuals’ lives will be made by the individuals themselves. Great reports often have the explicit goal of helping individuals see themselves with new eyes, moving them to take first steps in new directions to better places.

The primary purpose of assessment is to discover useful truths about individuals in their social context. The primary purpose of assessment reports is to communicate these useful truths so that they have relevance, urgency, and power. That is, excellent reports help decision‐makers view the individual with accurate empathy and thus prepare and motivate decision‐makers to take effective action.

DISTRACTING PRIORITIES IN THE REPORT‐WRITING PROCESS

It would be hard to overstate the importance of empathy in the helping professions. It is a primary ingredient of successful relationships in general and successful therapy in particular (Elliott, Bohart, Watson, & Greenberg, 2011). Although psychologists work hard to communicate an empathic understanding of a person while face‐to‐face, we are not often trained to apply our talent for empathy to the report‐writing process. While writing, it is easy to lose sight of the fact that our reports will be read by fellow human beings, most of whom have no specialized training in psychological and educational assessment. Other priorities and various constraints get in the way.

Accuracy Versus Clarity

What could possibly be wrong with being accurate? Nothing, of course. There is nothing wrong with accuracy, but is it easy to emphasize it at the expense of clarity. Of course, in most writing, accuracy and clarity complement each other. They typically come and go together as an amicable pair, but they are not inseparable. Certain kinds of statements are factually accurate but likely to lead to inaccurate understandings among nonexpert readers. Consider these two statements:

1. Josie’s score on the Woodcock‐Johnson IV Spelling test was 95, which corresponds to a percentile rank of 37.
2. Josie can spell about as well as most children her age.

The first statement is quite precise, but not...