9 Jun 2010

Green is no goal

This is a guest post by Joe Dunckley
To achieve a sufficiently large but distant win, it is worth sacrificing a much smaller but nearer win if it stands in the way or distracts and delays the larger achievement. To achieve a small but near win, it is not worth sacrificing a much larger but more distant win. But the difference in magnitude must be sufficiently large, and the difference in distance sufficiently small, to make delaying the gratification really pay off. Speculation and argument over the sizes and distances and relative probabilities of success and incompatibilities of the competing achievements fuel many a political argument.
Like "green" open access.
Green open access is simple: for every scientific journal paper, at least one of the authors must take action to ensure that the paper is freely available to the world online, somehow. They can deposit the text in PubMed central, or put a crude PDF of a draft version on their website. The increasingly preferred method for many advocates of green OA, though, is the institutional repository: each university library manages its own database of affiliated researchers' papers. This will solve the problem: the inability of people to read a paper that they want to read.
A heresy for you: access is not an interesting problem. The stubborn toll access publishers are correct when they say that most people can read most of the papers that they want to read. Yes, it takes emails to the authors, piracy amongst friends, and borrowed passwords, and yes it is a real problem, and no, the toll access publishers do not have any excuse to do nothing about it. But it's not an interesting problem any more. Letting us read a paper for free, without having to log-in or pester the author, once the paper reaches twelve months old, is not a revolution.
There are other similarly dull problems in science and publishing that green OA doesn't address. Like how to save university libraries from the parasitic subscription access publishers that are slowly killing their helpless hosts. Green OA tells parasitic publishers that they can continue draining libraries of their budgets with subscription bundles to poor quality journals that few people want to read, so long as they open access to the papers after twelve months. Now, as libraries face their greatest budget squeezes of the recession, is the perfect time for them to get some guts, speak up, say 'no', and shake off these parasites once and for all, before somebody comes along and hides them behind a bigger and stickier sticking plaster. Students should be rioting at the news that they are expected to do without textbooks and computers because their library has chosen instead to spend the several tens of thousands of pounds on a package of obscure and substandard journals. Instead, we're distracted by green OA, told that it is the one thing that academia desperately needs.
More interesting than these little problems are the opportunities that are currently presented to us: the real revolutions. Open, structured, reusable data has already demonstrated its revolutionary credentials in the field of genomics. Genome data that can be searched and mined by powerful computers and clever algorithms has enabled cheap and easy high-throughput hypothesis testing, and even hypothesis generation: it has led to countless discoveries that weren't on anybody's mind when they set out to collect the data, because the database as a whole is worth far more than the sum of the individual data gathering experiments. There are vast quantities of data in the literature: from microscopy to biogeography, epidemiological trends to drug toxicity. There are great and important discoveries waiting to be made in that data. But they're not being made, because unlike with genomics, no organisation has made the effort to build the database; no campaign group has achieved a mandate that the data be made open and reusable. Instead, the data, where it is available at all, is locked away in non-standard tables within unstructured PDF files, distributed across largely subscription access journals that reserve all rights to reuse.Gold open-access at least, by making literature mining possible, doesn't stifle these new open data opportunities, even if it's not the full solution; green open-access, by focussing on the need for access to human readable literature, distracts us from these possibilities entirely.
Or open notebook science: a model that, by getting scientists to discuss their ideas and publish their experiments in the open in real time, would force a revolution in the way that scientists work, the way that groups compete and collaborate, and the way that careers are evaluated and achievement rewarded; a revolution to the whole rhythm and pace of scientific discovery and the individual scientist's working life. A revolution that rather makes the whole issue of access to journal papers go away altogether.
Green OA advocates argue that open science, open data, and ONS are vague and fantastical distractions from the pressing matter of human access to journal articles; the we shouldn't waste time thinking about the former until we have solved the latter. I believe that green OA is a mundane and increasingly irrelevant distraction from the real problems and opportunities that are available for science to solve and grasp, but for a limited time only. The long-term achievements are too big to risk for the sake of such a small one.
Why spend time designing a better horse shoe when you could be inventing the railway train?

(Apologies for the unpolished post - this was made from my phone on the side of a Welsh mountain.)

1 Jun 2010

Literature hacks: PubMed searches by RSS

This is a guest post by Joe Dunckley
There are all sorts of ways you could find out about new articles that you might want to read. There's that big room across campus that's full of old writings on paper, but that's too far away and they have some silly rule about not eating your lunch near their writings on paper, and anyway you're not sure you still have the card that lets you in. You can't trust your colleagues to point out an article that isn't crushingly mediocre, unless it's because it concerns a species or a disease whose name sounds mildly amusingly puerile, but those ones are never actually remotely related to your work. You subscribe to electronic tables of contents, but these days everyone's publishing in PLoS ONE, and you're not wading through their contents every week in the hope of finding the occasional thing that's relevant. You could regularly search PubMed, but that means typing in keywords over and over, and wading through the results asking yourself, "have I seen this paper already, or do I just feel like I've seen this paper already?"

So you could subscribe to email alerts for your PubMed searches, but my god, man, what the hell do you think you're doing? What, you haven't got enough email already? Make you feel special, having your phone stop you every five minutes with unimportant impersonal notifications? If it's not private, not time-critical, and does not require a reply, it should not be pestering you with an email. That article has taken ten years to get from concept to publication, it can wait a little longer for you to read it -- not that you even read more than one in every twenty of the articles you're alerted to.

Which is why it should be obvious to any of our readers why they should be using HubMed's RSS feeds of PubMed searches, with their Google Reader, to keep up with the literature. New articles will accumulate and be available to scroll through in the sophisticated and cleanly laid out environs of the Google Reader, when it's convenient for you to read them. Reader will tick off items that you've seen and present to you items that you haven't yet seen, without ever screaming "look at me, look at me right now!"

Update: Since I originally wrote this, PubMed released their major update, introducing their own implementation of RSS saved searches, which looks at least as good as that of HubMed, and takes less effort to set up -- just click the RSS button next to the search box on the search results page.

19 May 2010

"Predatory" open access publishers

The Charleston Adviser has published an interesting analysis of some of the recent open access 'upstarts', titled "“Predatory” Open-Access Scholarly Publishers". They include some that I've noted before such as Bentham Open and Scientific Journals International.

As I would have expected, Libertas Academica and its sister publisher Dove Press do better than the others included in this review, but they are still far from passing with flying colours. The reviewer, Jeffrey Beall of Auraria Library, University of Colorado Denver, places a very clear "author beware" sign on:

  • Academic Journals
  • Academic Journals
  • ANSINetswork
  • Bentham Open
  • Insight Knowledge
  • Knowledgia Review
  • Science Publications
  • Scientific Journals International
Beall's summary is worth repeating:
"These publishers are predatory because their mission is not to promote, preserve, and make available scholarship; instead, their mission is to exploit the author-pays, Open-Access model for their own profit.
They work by spamming scholarly e-mail lists, with calls for papers and invitations to serve on nominal editorial boards. If you subscribe to any professional e-mail lists, you likely have received some of these solicitations. Also, these publishers typically provide little or no peer-review. In fact, in most cases, their peer review process is a façade.
None of these publishers mentions digital preservation. Indeed, any of these publishers could disappear at a moment’s notice, resulting in the loss of its content."
I'd not touch any of them with a bargepole.

13 May 2010

Why you can't copy abstracts into Wikipedia

This is a guest post by Joe Dunckley
This is an archival repost of something first published elsewhere a year ago.

I am not a lawyer, but I do have six years experience of Wikipedia, was once a very prolific Wikipedian, and, despite my lack of activity there in more recent years, am apparently still an "admin" on the English language Wikipedia. This, coupled with working for an open-access publisher, means that I have also picked up a little knowledge of (mostly US & UK) copyright over the years. Since I can't boil all that down to just 250 characters (or whatever the limit is), this post serves to answer this question, raised at FriendFeed: 'Does an article in pubmed belong to the "legal public domain", can I copy and paste it in wikipedia?'

The answer is 'no'. I don't endorse this position, and I'm not trying to be a killjoy, but it is the correct answer nonetheless. Since there appears to be some confusion over why the answer is 'no', let me explain. First I'll define some terms, then the copyright status of journal abstracts, and finally why the policy of Wikipedia must be to exclude abstracts.

First the definitions. Don't quote me on these. Like I say, IANAL. These are all just definitions that I have picked up over the years in the context of Wikipedia and open-access. In order of increasing protection of rights:

  • Public domain: completely exempt from all rights given by copyright law. Anyone can reprint it, remix it, and make money selling it, with no obligations.
  • Public/copyleft licensed, e.g. GFDL, CC-BY: the producer of the work has asserted their ownership and claim their rights, but have voluntarily given everyone in the world permission to do certain things with the work without having to ask first. There are actually several tiers of these licenses.
  • Copyright: you're not allowed to do anything with the work, unless the copyright owner has said you can.
Public domain is not a synonym for "publicly available". Something is not "in the public domain" just because it is on the internet -- indeed, most of the internet is not public domain, it falls in that third category. There is no presumption that you are allowed copy and paste material all over the internets. Perhaps there are corners of the internet where that is de facto the case, and perhaps it would be great if everything was public domain or copyleft, but it's not. Napster was a place where music was de facto public domain, before the recording industry reminded them that the law doesn't work that way. However, there is a fourth area to copyright: fair use.

Fair use is not a fourth category, like the categories above. Fair use is just a set of exemptions to copyright protections. It allows you to make use of copyrighted material without the owner's permission to do so. However, it is very limited: you may only use a limited amount of the copyright material, and you can only do a limited range of things with it. If you want to use something copyrighted and say that you are doing so under fair use provisions, you have to make the case for your specific creation being fair use of the material. Getting away with claiming fair use for an abstract in PubMed does not mean that you will get away with it for Wikipedia, or some other creation. And the copyright owner is always within their rights to object to your fair use claim.

The copyright status of journal abstracts. Copyright to most journal abstracts will be owned by the journal's publisher (or society). Copyright to others will be owned by the authors. For open-access papers, the copyright is usually owned by the authors, but the journal has made sure that they have released it under a copyleft license, allowing you to do lots of things with their work. Papers written by employees of US federal agencies in the course of their employment will be public domain, as will very old papers.

It is true that there is a culture amongst scientists of free movement of published ideas. Copyright is worthless to a scientist, who actively wants his ideas to spread, so long as he is cited and acknowledged. Scientists freely share and reprint things like abstracts.

Scientists assume that publishers feel the same about all use of "their" material. Note the fierce and desperate opposition some of the traditional publishers raise against the open-access movement, though. Ideas mean different things to a scientist and to a (traditional) publisher. You shouldn't presume that publishers will react in the same laid-back way as scientists do when the words that "belong" to them are used in novel ways.

Note that PubMed carefully argues the case that its use of abstracts falls under fair use provisions. It doesn't just say "yeah, whatever, everyone freely reproduces abstracts, no one cares."

Why you can't turn abstracts into Wikipedia articles. Wikipedia can't be laid back about copyright any more than PubMed can. Wikipedia is now, what, a top-ten website by most metrics? People notice things that are put on Wikipedia. If you start putting abstracts on it, somewhere a publisher will notice, not like it, and have the material removed. You could claim fair use, but (and remember, IANAL), I very much doubt you would be successful: an encyclopedia is very different to an index, and in Wikipedia you are remixing the material. Well, whatever. One page gets deleted. No lasting harm done. End of story?

Not exactly. Wikipedia is GFDL. What you put on Wikipedia gets copied to hundreds of mirrors and put in paper versions. People use it for whatever commercial purposes they want, and it gets remixed to death. It's difficult to undo what goes into Wikipedia. That is why, when you write in Wikipedia, you must declare either that the words are your own, or that they are already released under a compatible copyleft license. You are not just giving permission for your words to be used on Wikipedia, you are giving permission for your words to be reused and remixed for virtually any purpose. This is why Wikipedia has to be pretty careful not to let copyright violations through.

This is also why Wikipedia does not actually allow any text to be contributed as fair use (except when marked as quotations): the permissions granted by Wikipedia are just too great for the fair use claim to be defensible.

But can't Wikipedia make an exception for abstracts? Theoretically, perhaps it could be done, but sadly, the reality is 'no'. Wikipedia is too big, too old, too well known, too bureaucratic. Wikipedia's policy on copyrights is well established; it must be generalist, covering all fields and all nations, and it can't afford to be lax. To come up with exceptions to the policy would be too difficult for such a generalist site with such a tiny legal team. The Wikipedians would have to establish beyond doubt that publishers were happy for their abstracts to be used not just on the encyclopedia, but by anyone, anywhere, for virtually any purpose, reprinted and remixed. And that sounds like the open-access movement to me.

Conclusions. You can't put (non-open access) abstracts on Wikipedia. It would be nice if the gentlemen's agreement whereby publishers overlooked reuse of their material by scientists extended to all spheres, but that ain't necessarily so. Of course, it would great if it were so, and the story is just one of thousands which emphasise the need for a more rational and restricted copyright system.

Amusing typo of the day

The authors of a manuscript say their work has been approved by an "intuitional review board". I suppose it just knows when a study is ethical.

12 May 2010

Medical Hypotheses' editor is sacked

So Bruce Charlton's editorship at Medical Hypotheses comes to an end, and I must raise a small cheer. Schadenfreude is an ugly thing, but this journal was a boon to fringe 'scientists' everywhere, giving them the apparent legitimacy of publishing in a 'proper journal' (owned by Elsevier, indexed in PubMed) without the pesky hurdle of peer review. It was no surprise that it favoured kooks, having been set up by David Horrobin, a pusher of evening primose oil.

The final straw was allowing AIDS denialists a platform, and the subsequent outcry from scientists and Charlton's inability to see what he did wrong led Elsevier to pull the plug. Charlton thinks that as an editor he has a perfect right to publish whatever papers he wishes, but unaccountable editorial control is no way to run a journal. Poor editorial decisions should have consequences, and the lack of any peer review or other quality control on Medical Hypotheses (the only criterion being that a paper was 'interesting') always doomed it to be derided by serious scientists and medics.

Will the new (and improved?) Medical Hypotheses see any more gems like too much sex causing RSI, kissing evolving to spread germs, cancer being caused by stopping smoking, masturbation being good for relieving a bunged up nose, or the origin of belly button fluff?

18 Mar 2010

Peer review in the dock

This is a guest post by Joe Dunckley
Academic publishing, and peer review in particular, was headline news in February -- from stem cell researchers claiming that their work was being sabotaged by reviewers with conflicts of interest, to mainstream news noticing the absurdity of the impact factor situation. BBC Radio 4 must have decided that now was a good time to air an unedited repeat of 2008's documentary Peer Review in the Dock. So now certainly seems like a good time to post an unedited repeat of my comments from the time.

--

A few thoughts on Peer Review In The Dock (this evening, Radio 4).

  1. Nobody has ever questioned whether peer review is really needed: wrong. A lot of people have questioned this, and many experiments have been tried. The most prominent recent example is probably PLoS ONE (no reference to this in the programme). They very rapidly discovered that, yes, a minimum standard is peer review is required when running a journal. But perhaps moving to a non-review model is like communism: you need to have world revolution for it to have any chance of working; going it alone will just lead to your own collapse.
  2. Peer-reviewers aren't trained: somewhat misleading. Reviewers, at least in the publishing model that I am familiar with, are actively publishing research scientists of at least medium seniority. Most will, while pursuing their doctorates, have participated in "journal clubs" (where the grad students get together to shred a published paper), and many will also have co-reviewed manuscripts alongside their supervisors (not strictly allowed, but very widespread). What all students certainly are trained to do, even at undergraduate level, is not to take the truth of published work for granted, and to watch for potential flaws. To teach science is to teach scepticism. Which brings me on to the next point...
  3. Reviewers aren't all that great at spotting errors: so what? Academics and publishers know this. The system is designed this way. Review is supposed to be a basic filter for sanity and competence; it is only journalists who hear "peer-reviewed" and think it is the definitive stamp of authenticity. Like democracy and trial-by-jury, it is not used because it works, but because it fails less disastrously than the alternatives. (Incidentally, their example of introducing deliberate errors to a paper and seeing who notices them is not entirely fair: most papers are not only reviewed by the journals reviewers, but by the authors' colleagues before they submit the manuscript, and by editors before review.)
  4. The last part of the programme was devoted to publication bias. Publication bias is a big problem. But it has little, if anything, to do with peer-review, and everything to do with publisher policies and author dishonesty. The only conceivable connection it has with peer-review is that some people still mistakenly believe that negative results aren't worth publishing at all -- something that journals like BMC Research Notes and PLoS ONE, and initiatives like trial registration are explicitly tackling.
The programme explored what is an interesting issue in academic publishing at the moment (there are more interesting issues, of course), but, I think, from the wrong perspective. While it discussed many very real problems with the system, these problems are all well known and acknowledged; for decades people have explored solutions, and there are many interesting current developments. The makers of the programme seemed mostly unaware of these.

This is, of course, the limitation of having a half-hour national radio programme about a topic like academic publishing.

3 Mar 2010

Peter Suber's open access word contest

Peter Suber, the guru of open access, has challenged readers of the SPARC Open Access Newsletter to come up with a new word.

English speakers need a verb that means "to provide OA to". It should be as succinct as "sell" for use in sentences such as, "We sell the print edition but ____ the digital edition."
Oh, the joys of verbing a noun. Here are my entries:
  • "Openpublished"; "to openpublish" (or "open-published", "to open-publish"). Apparently there is already a meaning of "open publishing", which is to make the process of publishing transparent (open peer review would be an aspect of this, as well as Indymedia and Wikinews), but I think the term is little used.
  • "Commoned"; "to common". Meaning "to place into the commons", as most OA publishing uses the Creative Commons licenses.
  • "Publicked"; "to publick". Meaning "to make public". It's an archaic word, used by Joyce in Finnegan's Wake, sometimes meaning "published", sometimes meaning "populated", and recently resurfacing to mean making a private message public.
  • "Freeshared"; "to freeshare" (echoing freeware and shareware). This term is already a synonym for freecycling, and for a defunct image upload site.
  • "Openshared"; "to openshare" (echoing open source and shareware). This term is already used for an icon that represents the open sharing of content - an icon that could be adopted by the open access movement.
  • "Copylefted"; "to copyleft". Using the existing term, which refers to Creative Commons and GNU GPL licenses among others.
  • Referring to libre and gratis: "Libred"; "to libre". "Gratised"; "to gratis".
Can you do better? Seize the glory by emailing Peter.

The Open Share icon is under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported License from http://www.openshareicons.com/.

3 Feb 2010

Article-level metrics

This is a guest post by Joe Dunckley
Guys, are you sure you've thought this through? I mean, they're nice. They're fun. Data is fun. Seeing that somebody somewhere has read something you've written is satisfying and reassuring. It's good to know that you've sparked a conversation, and gotten people recommending you to their friends. But you think that it can't possibly go wrong? You think we should roll it out as the universal metric right now, and sort out the details later?


The impact factor is just data. It's nice for a publisher to know that people are reading the papers that they publish, and that all their hard work is having some effect. I can't believe that it would ever have been intended that such an absurd situation as the current practice of making and breaking careers according to a journal citation index should have arisen. Give out article-level metrics and they're soon going to stop being a bit of fun. People are going to use them and abuse them. It's what people do with data.

If you're going to reduce somebody's life's work to a number, it would certainly be less absurd to pick a number that is in some way relevant to that work, rather than relevant to the work that a whole bunch of other people did several years earlier. But only a little bit. What are article-level metrics representing? The quality of the work, or the controversy you've stirred up? The web-savviness of the field? The number of friends you have? There is already huge variation between the kinds of impact factors that medical journals get compared to, say, the sort that ecology journals get. What if, at the article level, breast cancer turns out to be inherently more comment-worthy than bowel cancer? If tenure and funding committees are willing to use something as absurd as an impact factor when making a decision, do you think that they're going to give a damn about the inherent variation in readership between fields? All those bowel cancer researchers better start reading up on their breast cancers now.

But what happens when article-level metrics really start to mean something? Give a large enough number of people an incentive to cheat and some of them are going to cheat. Remember when the World Journal of Gastroenterology boosted its impact factor with a little citation loading? How are you going to stop academics from doing what flickr users do to get themselves into the site's front-page "Explore" section for the day's best photos -- posting their stuff to "I'll leave an inane comment on yours if you leave an inane comment on mine" groups? What happens when academics spend ever increasing hours marketing their work to each other? How long is it going to be before journals and universities are competing for researchers by advertising how good their average article-level metrics are? Before journals and universities open departments dedicated to pressuring people into reading and commenting and blogging their articles?

What happens when pharmaceutical companies get in on the act? What about the ideas that get ignored for ten years, before it becomes apparent how important they are -- do the metrics count for the original paper, or for the review article that reignites the interest? What about the assholes, the trolls, the groupthink...?

Article-level metrics are a bit of fun. It's possible for them to remain a bit of fun. But it's going to take a lot of forethought and vigilance to make sure that is so.

1 Feb 2010

Literature hack: context search

This is a guest post by Joe Dunckley
Ryan Gregory has just started a new blog: Hackademe. It's a Lifehacker for academics, sharing his tips for scientists who are struggling to cope with all the shiny distractions around them. Here at Journalology towers, we have a whole bunch of these hacks lying around, and I hope we won't be treading on Ryan's toes if we share some of our literature searching and managing tips. (Though Ryan has already discussed reference manager software on his day old blog, so perhaps he has this one covered...)

A very simple one to get us started, then: install context search. Firefox comes with a built-in right-click tool for easy searching of Google for the text on the page that you have highlighted. Context search replaces that search Google tool with a search any-number-of-search-engines tool.

You can add all your own favourite search engines to the menu: just go to the search engine website and use the drop menu in the toolbar search box.

Now you can run through PubMed every unfamiliar gene, disease or researcher you stumble upon while reading, with three easy clicks and no typing. (Warning: novices may find themselves up at two in the morning having followed a long chain of context searches from cell signalling pathways to YouTube videos of snow ploughs on speeding trains.)

Dudes, I don't know how you coped in the olden days of typing your search terms into PubMed, and yet people seriously try to tell me that mankind once worked with "card catalogues" and "interlibrary loan". I'm not buying it, you guys.

31 Jan 2010

A piece of peer review history

This is a guest post by Joe Dunckley
I love browsing PubMed Central. How about this, from May 1985. The paper, Exaggerated responsiveness to thyrotrophin releasing hormone: a risk factor in women with coronary artery disease, by Fowler and Dean in the BMJ, is not in itself a work of unusual historical significance. But the associated sections in the document could be: is this where open peer-review began?

In a comment posted letter published the day after I was born, Thomas Walever said:

SIR,-I congratulate you on your publication of the paper by Drs J W Dean and P W B Fowler (25 May, p 1555) complete with the referees' comments and authors' replies. This correspondence indeed illustrates some of the problems with the peer review system. It was a help to know that others have had some of the same problems that we have had as authors. While comments made by referees are often helpful, it is indeed distressing when one does not agree with the criticism of the methods. This is especially true, it seems, for statistical matters; and this was well illustrated here. It has even happened that a major criticism was that something was not done which in fact had been done and was clearly stated to be so in the manuscript.

As a suggestion, perhaps matters might be improved if we had to sign our names to our reviews. There would be many problems with this, but the comments made to the authors would probably be more careful, considerate, and constructive. Some journals already suggest this as an option; perhaps the practice should be encouraged?
Twenty-five years on, and we do not have universal open peer-review. Further experiments have been conducted, though, led by the BMJ, which now uses signed reviews (but, so far as I can tell, does not publish the reviewer reports). In 1999, a blinded trial of open review by the BMJ editors found that open review didn't really make a difference to the quality of reports, and probably lengthened the time taken for review. Editor Richard Smith, campaigner for open-science and publishing reform, stubbornly decided to adopt it anyway, citing ethical reasons: you can not be tried by an anonymous judge. (In his editorial, Smith also declares his intentions to publish reports alongside the accepted papers, and introduce live community review, neither of which have come to fruition, so far as I can see.)

Other trials have had more positive findings regarding benefits of open review, such as more thorough reports, but the utilitarian merits of open review remain contested. This Nature Neruoscience editorial from 1999 complained (without evidence) that open review is likely to lead to "bland" and "timid" reviews, in which technical deficiencies are identified, but no comment is made regarding the interest level of a paper. If true, this would, of course, be a problem for high-end journals like Nature Neuroscience which select on the basis of interest level.

It's nearly ten years since the BMJ's switch to open review, and, so far as I know, the the model is still restricted to just a minority of medical journals and hardly any journals in other fields. The BMJ's initial hope to publish reviewer reports seems to have been forgotten. Open peer review seems to be just another area where publishers are still looking at new technology and discussing where they want to go, when everyone on the internet is asking "are you guys coming, or what?"

This is an edited re-post of something previously posted on cotch dot net.

20 Jan 2010

Fraud epidemic in China?

This is a guest post by Joe Dunckley
Last week's Nature included a news feature on scientific misconduct in China which contained the extraordinary (but not unbelievable) claim that a third of all researchers at "top institutions" in China admitted to plagiarism, falsification, or fabrication. The feature contains the extreme example of the systematic fabrication of crystal structures, but one would hope that the majority of the confessions of misconduct represent no more than the borrowing of a few paragraphs by those for whom English is not a first language (a crime, but not a hanging offence). But every publisher has its examples of photoshopped figures and impossible datasets, and it's hard to deny that certain countries pop up more often than others.
The fun part of the article, though, is the comments thread, which is full of readers' speculating about why China should have such a high-rate of misconduct. A drive for quick success and control of the sector by short-sighted bureaucrats with no actual understanding of science are suggested. A rapid expansion of science with a bottom-heavy hierarchy and insufficient supervision, or else the fierce competition and pressure in a publish-or-perish world. Perhaps it's just in the nature of communist societies? Even the impact factor is cited as a contributory cause, and the blame somehow shifted onto the publishers.
Nobody seems to consider the simple possibility that researchers from other countries might have access to better tools for disguising their fraud.

16 Jan 2010

Reviewing Medical Hypotheses

This is a guest post by Joe Dunckley
Zoë Corbyn writes in the Times Higher this week that Elsevier have "started an internal review" of legendary journal Medical Hypotheses following its publication last year of two hiv/aids denialism papers (covered in Bad Science here and Respectful Insolence here). One of the offending papers, lead-authored by notorious aids denialist Peter Duesberg, took an entire two days from submission to acceptance by the peer review shunning "journal", and had already been rejected from all of the real hiv/aids journals for making such embarrassing claims as that Uganda's population increase proves that hiv can not cause aids.


It would be a shame to loose the journal that gave us Ejaculation as a potential treatment of nasal congestion in mature males and the equally entertaining response, Ejaculation as a treatment for nasal congestion in men is inconvenient, unreliable and potentially hazardous, but at the same time, we have to consider whether we are really comfortable continuing to humour the confused outbursts of Bruce Charlton.

It's interesting to note that the best defence for the journal's existence that Corbyn could find was this: "while peer review worked for 'normal science', it also had the power to suppress radical ideas." The defence comes from intelligent design creationist Steve Fuller, whose ideas I don't think even Med Hypotheses sunk as low as publishing.

Hello!

This is a guest post by Joe Dunckley
I am Joe. You might remember me from such websites as cotch dot net, friendfeed, and twitter. I work for a STM publishing company, formerly editing molecular biology journals, but now helping them develop their web publishing technology. I will be posting my ill-considered thoughts about science publishing alongside Matt's on Journalology, so that I don't have to bore the readers of my real blog with them. Do follow my vanity site for updates on all my other blogging.