When I use a word . . . “Publish or perish”: problems and solutions

The benefits of academic publishing

Several benefits can be gained from high quality academic publishing.1 When the findings are relevant to practical problems, such as new treatments of diseases, society benefits, or should do. Even when they are not immediately obviously applicable, they enhance the corpus of knowledge, the applicability of which may take time to appreciate. The individual also benefits from having published, since it improves their standing in the academic community and increases their ability to raise research funding and the likelihood that they will be promoted in their institution or obtain a better position elsewhere. The community itself benefits by virtue of the communication of ideas and the stimulus to further research and innovation. The reputations of the research establishments for which the academics work, such as universities, benefit likewise, and they are more likely to attract fee-paying students from abroad and funding from industry and benefactors. Students benefit, because they observe the processes involved and learn more about the academic discipline involved both in general and in particular; furthermore, if they themselves publish they may gain opportunities for higher study and better jobs when they qualify. The country also benefits from the financial opportunities that innovative research may afford. With increased numbers of publications, journal publishers benefit financially.

One can, however, have too much of a good thing.

“Publish or perish”—problems

I have previously defined the “publish or perish” doctrine as “An aphorism that describes the pressure on an academic to have innovative scholarly material published in reputable journals or other forms of scholarly output, sufficiently often, in order to avoid demotion, dismissal, failure to progress in one’s scholarly career, or diminishing the status or reputation of one’s scholarly community or discipline.”2

The doctrine, which many dislike but appear to have become stoical about, has given rise to many problems.3 These include: the increasing load of papers that journal editors are receiving and having to deal with, also giving rise to increasing difficulty in finding reviewers to scrutinise them; deterioration in the quality of papers being submitted; an increase in research misconduct, reflecting an increasing frequency of violations of academic integrity, i.e. matters of academic dishonesty or misdemeanours, such as fabrication or falsification of data, plagiarism, inappropriate gift, guest, and ghost authorship, misuse of statistics, concealing the use of AI, withholding information, for example about conflicts of interest, and selective or inaccurate citation; a burgeoning number of paper mills and predatory journals; wasted resources; a reproducibility crisis; stifling of innovation; increasing numbers of retractions of published work; increased burnout among senior academics and an increased reluctance on the part of trainees to enter research because of a fear of the pressures involved; and diversion of attention from teaching to research.

“Publish or perish”—potential solutions

The literature on “publish or perish,” the papers, that is, in which it is actually discussed, rather than merely used as a slogan to catch the eye, is replete with pious words. In the abstracts of about 200 such publications, or the opening paragraphs in those that don’t have abstracts, certain devout sentiments and high-minded statements occur with reverential frequency, including words such as ethics or ethical (83 instances), quality (70), integrity (40), openness (23), and environment (22), the last of these qualified by such collocates as academic, clinical, harmonious, healthcare, work/ing, and, most commonly, research. Other words that occur more than once, although less often, include honesty, truth/fulness, and morality.

Few, however, propose other than vague platitudes describing possible solutions to the problems. And before I list them, I ought to say, at the risk of losing readers at this point, that I do not think that any of the suggested solutions is going to be of any use whatsoever in stemming the ever swelling tide of research misconduct, retractions of published work, paper mills and predatory journals, and all the other items listed above.

It is generally agreed that there is no single solution to all the problems, and many of the published suggestions cover one or only a few of them. A notable exception comes from a group proposing what they call a “portfolio of actions”: focus on research quality; raise awareness; join ethical initiatives; cite ethically; selectively peer review; prioritise ethical journals; demonstrate your values; boycott unethical journals; promote an ethical publishing culture; evaluate holistically.4 This is a list with which no self-respecting academic would be likely to take issue, even if they might couch the items in different terms. However, it is unlikely that these homilies would be taken to heart by those who are determined to do otherwise—the miscreants, or, in other words, those who are the progenitors of many of the problems.

Some plausibly suggest education of various kinds5: training courses, for example, on research integrity,6 scholarship,7 and good scientific writing.8 Again one cannot demur, but with the same reservations as before.

Several authors highlight the use of software to detect plagiarism, naming such tools as Citeplag, eTBLAST, iThenticate, Plagiarism Checker X, Plagiarism detect, Plagiarisma, Plagium, Turnitin, and Viper.9 But how many editors and reviewers currently use such tools, and how many could reasonably be encouraged to spend time doing so? Papers published in unreviewed research repositories are unlikely to be thoroughly checked, and in any case doubts have been cast on the ability of AI tools to detect plagiarism reliably.10 This may be something for the future, when AI improves. Other uses of AI have also been suggested.11

Some authors have proposed ranking universities according to quality,12 sanctioning policy makers,13 or making institutions and their leaders accountable.14 But institutions are typically reluctant to investigate their staff when accusations are made, and universities often declare that they have found no evidence of misdemeanours. Journals, likewise, are slow and often reluctant to retract published papers. Sanctions would be likely to make them retreat further.

A final suggestion

In this brief survey I have skimmed the surface of the many suggestions that have been made for tackling the problems raised by the “publish or perish” doctrine. Many of them are worthy, but it seems doubtful that such approaches, even if applied in concert, would make much difference, since they would be largely directed at those who are likely to maintain academic probity, rather than the miscreants. Only by destroying the doctrine itself, if a single act to do so were possible, might any inroads be made.

A 2008 critical account15 of the UK’s “Research Assessment Exercise,” as it was originally, and accurately, called, now given the meaningless slogan “Research Excellence Framework,” has been cited only nine times, according to Google Scholar. Over the years those who administer the exercise have struggled with the problem of assessing the quality of research, on the basis of which governmental funding is decided. They have used assessments involving such imprecise and unreliable metrics as impact factors and citation counting. The processes have been described as “irrational.”16 More recently they have turned to the idea of assessing “impact,” an equally elusive concept, not least because many important findings take a long time to make their mark. Furthermore, the concept diminishes the importance of academic curiosity,17 which can be important in determining practical applications, the extent to which it will do so, and the time over which practicality will emerge, being unpredictable.

Abandoning assessment exercises completely in funding decisions, and replacing them with the older method of simply counting up such features as numbers of staff, students, and library facilities, would, I believe, make little difference, if any, to the way in which university funds are disbursed. I don’t know whether, or to what extent, it would solve or mitigate the problems of “publish or perish,” but it would undoubtedly relieve universities of the intolerable bureaucratic stress of the current system.

Alas, it won’t happen.