We began this semester with a seemingly
simple question:
How do you know what you know? This set
the foundation for our explorations
of epistemology, and we have delved
deeply into how scientists distinguish
between
justified belief and mere opinion. You've
spent most of the semester
probing the limits of scientific
understanding about
some topic that you chose and, hopefully,
by now you have a much better sense of
how
science generates new knowledge by first
identifying specific gaps in our models
of how the world works, gaps that can be
filled in through focused,
empirical study. We've also talked
a lot this semester about the
differences between primary and
secondary literature,
emphasizing that journal articles do
most of the heavy work
of communicating science between
scientists.
That's a lot to take in, so it wouldn't
be at all surprising to learn that
most of you probably haven't given a lot
of conscious thought
to how all those scientific papers get
published in the first place.
It may seem like a trivial question,
hardly worth your time, but
unless you understand the process by
which scientists go from identifying a
gap in our understanding
to publishing the results of a study to
fill in that gap,
you won't fully appreciate just why
journal articles hold pride of place
in the scientific community. It's also
essential for you to know at least the
fundamentals of this process if you want
to fully understand the scientific
process.
There is a lot more to the scientific
method than the scientific method that's
usually presented in textbooks would
lead you to believe.
In this video, then, I want to take you
through that process
of how a scientific study becomes a
paper. What's the first step
in turning a research project into a
journal article?
Whenever I ask this question, the most
common answer people provide is
something along the lines of,
"write the paper." That's not a bad answer,
really,
but it begs the question, what are you
going to write?
"Why, the results of the research," most
people reply.
Great! So, really, the first step
isn't to write the paper; it's to do the
research. Apply whatever methodology you
need,
gather and analyze the data, reach your
conclusions...
Then you can begin writing your paper.
Wait a minute. If you've ever worked in a
research lab,
and it really doesn't matter what the
lab was studying,
at some point you were probably shocked
by one
outstanding reality. Science is expensive!
We're talking really expensive!
To carry out most research studies,
you've got to pay
researchers' salaries along with their
benefits.
You've got to pay for reagents. You've
got to pay for supplies. Scientific
equipment
is astronomically expensive,
not only to purchase but to maintain. And
then there're just the expenses of
maintaining the lab space itself. You've
got electricity, water,
waste disposal, safety equipment, cleaning
the space,
etc. There's just so much there. If you
want to carry out that research, then,
you're going to need some big bucks.
Where's that money going to come from?
The answer, of course, is that most
research is paid for
by funding institutions. These may be
federal agencies, like the Centers for
Disease Control and Prevention,
the National Science Foundation, or the
Department of Defense,
or they may be private foundations, such
as the American Diabetes Association,
or the Bill and Melinda Gates foundation.
As you can probably imagine, these
institutions have large piles of money
earmarked for research.
However, they don't have endless supplies
of money,
and they tend to be extremely selective
in how they distribute those funds.
Before you can carry out your research
project, then,
you generally have to secure a grant
from one or more of these organizations.
The first step in turning the scientific
study into a journal article, then,
really begins with a grant proposal. Now,
going into all the ins and outs of the
grant process would open up a huge can
of worms.
Suffice it to say that every single
granting agency
is unique, each with its own funding
mandates,
deadlines, application processes, etc.
Even so, there are some things most of
them have in common.
Once you've identified a funding agency
that seems like a good match for your
research questions,
you need to submit a detailed proposal
that identifies what the research is
going to be about and why it's
important, that summarizes what the
scientific community currently
understands about the topic,
details what aspects of the topic are
still
unclear, what gaps in our understanding
remain.
If that sounds familiar, that's because
it's what you've been doing
all semester with your literature
reviews. The only way to build
new knowledge in science is to
accurately define the limits of our
understanding.
What we've been working on for your
capstone project
is a light version of what is at the
very heart of scientific epistemology.
Of course, a grant proposal will also
include other important information,
too. In particular, it needs to outline
a specific research plan for addressing
the research questions,
often including detailed methodology and
experimental design, it
needs to estimate how much time and
money will be needed to carry out the
research,
and it's going to provide the
credentials of the people responsible
for supervising that research.
Whatever the specifics of each
institution may be,
almost every grant proposal must then be
reviewed by a committee of scientists
with the necessary expertise to
understand the proposal and evaluate its
merits
in terms of importance, feasibility,
likelihood of success, expense, relevance
to the institution's, funding mandates,
etc. Because there are a lot of research
scientists out there and research is so
extremely expensive,
it shouldn't come as a surprise that
every committee has to evaluate
far more grant proposals than they could
possibly ever fund.
Usually, then, what they'll do is rank the
proposals in an
order that reflects which proposals they
think should be prioritized for funding.
The institution will then decide how
many of those grants will receive awards
based on
the recommendations of the committee and
the amount of money that they have
available during
that particular funding cycle. So
what are your chances of getting a grant
so that you can do your research?
Not great as it turns out. Each agency is
different, of course,
and funding levels shift every single
cycle. However, from someplace like
the National Science Foundation or the
National Institutes of Health your
chances are
only around 10 percent. Given what's
riding on securing those funds,
writing grants is a high-stakes,
high-pressure game.
Remember, it's not just you who is
affected by the outcome of that grant
proposal.
If it were, that would be stressful
enough. It's also
all the researchers in your lab, not to
mention the people who might be helped
by your research. What do you do, then,
when--not if--
your proposal gets rejected? Well, first,
and this is the most
important, you cry! You may then try to
drown your sorrows in some stiff drinks.
Eventually, though, you have to regroup
and to decide what to do next.
One option, of course, is simply give up
on the project idea.
That sounds defeatist, but sometimes you
really have to cut your losses and
accept that the project, for whatever
reason,
may just not be fundable in the current
environment. Your time
would be better spent working on other
ideas.
Most often, though, you'll triage what
might have gone wrong,
reassess your approach, and revise your
proposal, either to submit to the same
agency in the next
funding cycle or another agency where
you think you might have a better chance.
Okay, let's assume you write the grant,
you get the funding and,
just as remarkably, the research all goes
smoothly, generating valuable data that
allows you to answer the research
questions that started this process in
the first place. Lucky you!
Now you finally get to write that
manuscript!
Well, not quite. Before you do,
you should spend some time carefully
considering just
which of the thousands of journals out
there you want to submit to.
There's a lot to consider in that
decision, far more than I can squeeze
into a single video.
However, some of the things you'll want
to think about are:
which journals are the best match for
your research questions and approach;
of those which journals are more
prestigious
in the field than others; which ones are
most likely to accept your manuscript;
do any of them offer open access options?
Thinking through questions like these
first is important because
writing is far more effective and easier
when you have a target audience in mind.
For instance, if you're writing to a
highly specialized journal
you can probably skip a lot of the
background material that you might
have to include if you're writing to a
more generalized journal.
Of course, another reason to consider
where you want to publish
is so you know which citation style to
use and how to
properly format your manuscript for
submission. Setting up those expectations
early
is usually easier than reformatting
everything at the end.
So, you select the journal and now you
can finally write that manuscript!
At this point, your manuscript is
considered "in preparation."
Chances are good that you're writing
this with other authors so there's
likely a lot of back and forth between
everyone as you go along.
You may also solicit informal review
from colleagues and peers
to improve your chances of success.
Depending on
the nature of your research and who your
co-authors are,
that finished manuscript can take months
to write.
Eventually, though, you'll have something
that you can submit to your journal of
choice.
At that point, your manuscript is
considered "under review."
But what actually happens next? Well, the
first person who will see your
manuscript of the journal is an editor.
Editors have many roles to play in the
publication process.
The first thing they will do, though, is a
quick assessment of your manuscript to
see
if it's a match to the journal's mission
and probably to get a rough estimate of
the quality of the work.
Based on this preliminary decision, the
editor may decide
to reject your paper immediately. This is
known as an "editorial rejection."
Yes, it's discouraging. It's frustrating.
However, at least you have a quick answer
which, as we'll see here in a moment,
can't be said of other stages in the
process. If you get an editorial
rejection,
what do you do? Well, you cry, of course,
and possibly even throw a tantrum,
probably followed by a few stiff drinks.
Eventually, though, you need to regroup
and to decide what to do next.
One option is to give up and move on to
the next project.
Sound familiar? Yeah, you have to make
these sort of decisions
all the time as a scientist. Sometimes
you know going in that the manuscript
isn't as strong as it should be
and that it has little chance of
publication even in a low prestige
journal.
In those cases, it's best to just cut
your losses.
Most often, though, you'll take whatever
comments the editor may have provided,
though
they aren't likely to have given much, if
any feedback,
you'll triage what might have gone wrong,
possibly bolster your research,
revise your manuscript, and try to submit
it to a different journal.
If you've ever been through this process,
you'll have an even greater appreciation
for reference management software.
It's so much easier than trying to
manually change all your citations
to a new journal's style. Now, if the
editor thinks your paper is a good match
for their journal and that it merits
consideration,
they'll then send it out for peer review.
Each journal is different, but most
journals will probably send your
manuscript
to anywhere from three to five
scientists to review.
Some may even be less and maybe even
more, but most are going to be between
three
and five scientists. These will be
scholars who have the expertise to
evaluate your experimental design,
data analysis, and conclusions. As a rule,
most journals try to make this a
double-blind process, with neither the
author nor the reviewers knowing each
other's identities.
In practice, authors and reviewers often
give themselves away
unintentionally. Plus, if you're in a
highly specialized field,
everyone knows what everyone else is
working on, so
it's often impossible to have true
anonymity.
Contrary to common misconceptions, peer
reviewers
do not repeat all of your experiments!
That would be
incredibly time consuming and expensive.
Often, it might not even be possible.
Rather, each reviewer reads the
manuscript to assess the validity
and importance of the research questions,
the appropriateness of the methods used,
the quality of the data and the data
analysis,
and the validity of the conclusions. Note
that while reviewers may comment on the
quality of the writing,
they often don't. Even when they do, it's
usually not the primary thing they focus
on, which
helps explain why scientific literature
is often so badly written.
After reading your paper, each reviewer
returns your manuscript along with their
detailed comments to the editor with one
of three recommendations:
reject, revise and resubmit,
or accept. The editor then considers all
of the assessments and returns their
verdict to you.
It's not uncommon to have to wait months
to get the editor's decision.
For especially groundbreaking and
important work, the editor may expedite
the process,
but most often they won't.
If the editor decides to reject your
manuscript after peer review,
they'll nevertheless send the reviewers'
comments to you.
At that point, you have to decide what to
do. I mean, after crying, of course,
throwing your tantrum, and having a few
stiff drinks.
Again, you may decide, based on the
reviewers' feedback, that
it would take too much work to address
them all and that your time
is better spent on other projects.
Most often, though, you'll work to address
the criticism. This may entail doing more
research,
and it will certainly involve revising
your manuscript before submitting it to
a different journal,
at which point the entire editorial
process starts
all over again. The most common decision
editors make is "revise and resubmit."
It's rare for a journal to accept a
paper as is.
As an author, this is annoying because it
means there were significant criticisms
raised by one or more of your reviewers
that need to be addressed before the
editor will accept your paper for
publication.
This, too, may evoke some tears, tantrums,
and cocktails.
However, it's actually a pretty
encouraging outcome because it amounts
to a provisional acceptance of your work.
Yes, it means more labor on your part, but
at least there's hope of getting your
paper in print at the end of it all.
Once again, the editor will send you all
of the reviewers' comments so you can
respond to them.
You don't actually have to change every
single thing
the reviewers recommend. However, you do
have to explain why you didn't when you
resubmit your revised manuscript.
When you resubmit, what happens next?
It depends on the journal.
Some journals send it back to the
reviewers to get their opinions on the
changes you made,
which can take forever! Thankfully,
most journals don't do that. Instead, the
editor reads your revised manuscript and
decides whether you've adequately
addressed the reviewers' criticisms.
If you haven't, then the editor will send
you a rejection notice.
If you have, though, they will send you a
notice that your manuscript has been
accepted.
When you get that acceptance, it's the
most extraordinary feeling in the world!
You may still shed a few tears, but this
time of happiness,
and you may celebrate with some adult
beverages. You've earned them!
However, your work isn't done just yet.
Yes, your manuscript is now considered
"accepted,"
but now it goes on to the next stage of
the process,
which is it moves to the copy editor.
This person's job is to carefully edit
your paper for
grammar and style issues. They'll also
check each of your citations and
bibliographic
entries for proper formatting and,
finally, they'll take care of all the
page layout.
Once completed, the copy editor will send
you what are called
"galley proofs" of your paper. These are
the pages as they will appear when the
article
finally goes to print. The copy editor
will also send you a list of issues that
need to be addressed.
They may, for instance, ask you to check
punctuation and wording changes to
make sure the meaning wasn't affected.
They may also ask you for missing
bibliographic
information. They may ask you to produce
clearer images,
figures, tables, etc. There may be
some back and forth through this process.
Once it's completed, though,
your part in the process is finally
finally done.
It may be a while before your article
gets into print.
These days many, if not most, journals
will publish your article
online before they put it into print.
Indeed, i've had articles that didn't
make it into print until
two years after they made it online. It
doesn't matter, though. It's still a
fantastic feeling!
So, there you have it, the simple,
straightforward process by which a
research question
ultimately becomes a journal article.
Straightforward, right! The time between
initial concept,
asking those initial questions, to final
production
can take years and, as you can see,
it's a lot of work. It's completely worth
it, though.
Now, undoubtedly, at some point in your
research this semester you came across
a paywall to access an article.
Most often journals charge somewhere
around 25 to 30 dollars to access a
single journal article,
but they can be much, much higher.
Thankfully, university libraries pay
for their members to have access so you
didn't have to think about it much
as you were researching your topics.
However,
given how expensive it is for people
outside the university to access journal
articles,
how much do you suppose authors make 
for their efforts?
Clearly, this is a lot of work so it must
pay, right?
So, what do you think would be a
reasonable amount for all that effort
given how much the journal charges?
Fifty dollars? Five hundred dollars?
Five thousand dollars? The real amount
may surprise you. Authors make
absolutely no money for publishing in
scientific journals!
In fact, they often have to pay what are
called
page charges to get their study into
print,
sometimes to the tune of several
thousand dollars! So, where does all that
money go?
Is it going to the editors? Not really.
Some prestigious journals will have
full-time editors that draw a salary,
but most journal editors are active
researchers who do
the work as part of their professional
service. It looks great on a CV,
and it affords some wonderful networking
opportunities,
but it doesn't pay much, if anything.
About the most an editor can expect is
to get some small stipend
to pay for an administrative assistant
to take care of all of the
correspondence.
Okay, if not the editors, is the money
going to the peer reviewers?
Nope! Peer review is seen as a
professional responsibility.
It can take hours to review a single
paper, time that
takes away from other obligations you
might have,
but it's so integral to the process that
most scholars see it as an important
duty in the service of science.
About the only person in this whole
convoluted chain who is likely to see a
salary
is the copy editor. Copy editing can be a
decent living,
but not enough to account for paywall
prices.
So, where does all that money go?
Most of it to the journal publisher.
There may be thousands of journals, but
there are only a handful of publishers,
and they have some of the highest profit
margins in
any industry. Some estimates put their
profit margin at around 40 percent!
Why in the world, then, would scientists
put themselves through
all of this just to line the pockets of
publishing companies?
Well, for one, they may not get paid
directly for their publications,
but publications are how scientists
measure success.
The more journal articles you have
published, the more successful you'll be
in seeking tenure and promotion at
universities, and
the more likely you'll be able to secure
grants for future projects.
For another thing, the journal article is
the heartbeat of scientific epistemology.
As we've discussed before, scientists
place the greatest
trust in the information published in
journal articles, and they need reliable
information
in order to further the scientific
enterprise. This motivates them to
contribute their time
to the process even though they don't
see any direct monetary gain for their
time and effort.
Hopefully, after seeing how this whole
process works you can understand
why scientists place such trust in
journal articles.
Consider how many points in the process
a scientist's work is put under scrutiny
by
other competent scientists, starting with
the initial grant proposal,
continuing through the writing process,
and finishing with the final review each
paper undergoes before being accepted.
Now, publication in a scientific journal
does not guarantee
accuracy, and it certainly doesn't
guarantee truth.
Science and scientists often get things
wrong.
Rather, publication is a kind of quality
control that certifies the information
has been through the scientific process.
A journal article isn't just some blog
entry that someone threw together.
It isn't some sensational idea that a
research group threw together
as clickbait for advertising revenue. A
journal article reflects
a long, deliberate process, with checks
and balances
all along the way to ensure the
information
represents the best scientific
understanding possible at the time it's
published.
Better scientific understandings will
very likely come along to displace
the current article's pride of place. But
that's not a failing of the system; it's
a feature!
Each article represents a tiny step
forward.
Put enough of those tiny steps together,
though, and science
can take us far--very far!
I hope you find this overview of the
publication process helpful.
As always, remember be gentle with
yourselves and kind to one another.
Thanks for watching!
