Jumping in feet first: starting a paragraph with a reference

In academic writing, it’s common to witness a really unpleasant habit: starting paragraphs with the name of the author that’s being cited, or the source that’s being used as reference.

The first word or phrase in a paragraph is much more than just the beginning: it is a marker, a hook, a signal that lets us know what we’ll read within. It’s a starting point, and also a toehold for when we’re making our way back, when we’re not reading but rather rereading, because there’s something that interests us about it: we’re researching, reviewing, studying, reliving a passage with a special impact, or maybe we’re just sharing with a dear friend a scene that really stimulated our imagination.
A reference is, by nature, secondary. It doesn’t correspond to the meat of the text, rather to its origin. At least, that’s what happens most of the time (there are numerous exceptions). So, when we’re using the narrative technique of starting with “According to Fernández...” or “Rojas says...” we’re jumping in feet first.

Why is this stylistic technique used? (Yes, there are some who like this style and defend its use). Citing another person is one of the most evident uses of the appeal to authority fallacy: this is true, not because I say it, but because so-and-so says it. With its use, the author shows his peers (the real targets of his discourse) how much he knows and how much he’s read: the amount and quality of his references validates his work, but only if the readers recognize them. This leads us to understand the style: using only the last name (going beyond what bibliographical manuals advise), without bothering to explain who it is or to contextualize his or her work. It’s linked to an implicit tone, a pose, a way of saying he knows what he’s talking about, and if you don’t know it, then it’s your problem. The other reader, the common reader, the student, the researcher who’s worried about its depth and not its form, is not kept in mind by these kinds of authors. Academic status is worth more than the act of communication.