This essentially guaranteed everyone an A in the course, if they did the work. But the focus was on getting you to improve your writing, not to fail people out. My opinion is that this is how writing should be taught, rather than giving you one shot to get a grade.
(I also once had a writing teacher who gave me a zero for a paper because it wasn't submitted in a manilla folder, and no late submissions were accepted, so I had no chance to fix it.)
1. business
2. entrepreneur
3. your, you're
4. its, it's
5. they're, their, there
Also, for the term paper due at the end of the semester, for every day the paper was late, one grade would be subtracted. I.e. 2 days late meant a B would become a D. No excuses would be accepted, as they had the entire term to get it done.
The first time he taught this course, half the students were a day or more late. He followed through. The next year, word apparently got out as he only received one late paper.
His point was that in business, excuses were not acceptable.
It's important to teach the values of timeliness and attention to detail, but you aren't teaching anything if you're not giving students a way to recover and improve.
If you're in business, and write business letters misspelling "business", you aren't going to be taken seriously (though you likely won't realize why the rejections are happening). If you graduate from a business school and can't spell "business" then the school's reputation suffers, too.
In college, you're an adult. The requirement that "business" be spelled correctly is made quite clear. No excuses, no bullshit.
So one day, he got the pilots together, went out to the runway, painted two strips crossways and demanded that all pilots touch down within the stripes. There was a bunch of whining about it from the pilots that it was unfair and impossible.
So Yeager fired up a jet, took off, circled the field, and landed precisely in the center between the lines. He got no more guff from the pilots and they straightened up.
Me, if I was in a combat squadron I'd choose to serve under Yeager rather than a commander that tolerated sloppy flying skills. Sloppy skills will get you killed in aviation and especially combat.
Story is taken from "The Fog of War" as told by Robert S. McNamara.
Caltech had a famous class, EE91 lab. The rules were simple. The first week, you produced a spec for a project. If the spec was approved, you had the whole semester to get it done. If the project met the spec, you got an A. If you didn't, you got an F. Again, no excuses, no bullshit. It was a very popular class.
I took it too, was very careful to spec something I could accomplish and got it done well in advance.
These students aren't in kindergarten. They're adults in college. And getting your project designed, built, and debugged is a LOT harder than remembering how to spell "business".
The disservice to the students was done by all their prior teachers who'd make such conditions and never enforce them, and they didn't believe my dad would, either. What was he supposed to say, this time I really really mean it? (He did say that.)
I've heard innumerable such conditions from teachers, none of them ever followed through except EE91 lab.
That's what I've been doing. I'm not an amazing developer, but with time and effort I am able to refactor my way to decent code.
Forgetfulness has been my ally - if you forget about something you're obviously not attached to it, so it's easier to throw it out and replace with something better.
In my experience, this isn't true. When revising, most of my time is spent considering what changes I can make and not putting them into practice. If the bottleneck is thinking, raising your typing speed will provide marginal gains at best.
(Not claiming that that's actually faster, or otherwise.)
Rewrite from scratch as necessary. :-)
Important communications should go through multiple drafts. That includes important emails. Write it all out, then re-read it carefully, ideally after a bit of time has passed. Edit with an eye toward making it shorter. Rewrite it from scratch if you have to.
I once had the good fortune to take a writing class with Edward Hoagland. We spent most of the semester with each student working on a single essay--reviewing it, editing it, rewriting it, rewriting it.