Owen Yang

It is very common to feel that publications are the main currency of a scientific career.

Of course this ‘currency’ is linked to real currency in many ways. We are more likely to have ‘good’ publications if we have research money to spend. We are more likely to attract more research money after we have ‘good publications.’ And we are promoted after attracting these research money, hence better personal financial gain. Here I would really like to use money instead of polished words like grants, investment, etc.. Sometimes I am sick of people telling me how English works.

The system itself, other than a little bit capitalistic, seems benign, except we know now that there is increasing detachment between this money-publication cycle and other scientific values that are once thought important. New discovery. Humanity. Impact.

Oh but don’t get me wrong. There is an ever-extending paper work section of ‘impact’ that researchers have to justify at every step of the way. There are also section of ‘public engagement,’ ‘research income’ etc.. Very responsible indeed?

Again this is complicated by the fact that people would argue that without an ‘objective’ indicator such as publication, resources will be allocated in a way that aggravate social disparity. To be honest I am sure that ‘people’ here are really not specialists in social disparity, but enthusiasts in social disparity. But they do have a point.

So we agree this is a complex issue.

Playing the game and being played

It is understandable that in order to survive or to have a little bit of personal benefit, we are allow to play the game and be the ‘selfish’ scientist. Publish the results that look important. Bragging about our success as if it is due to our personal ability and commitment. Fine. The world is your playground.

What I am more concerned urgently is that we play the game so unashamed, that our generation has taken this as default. More and more commonly, I can see that people write scientific articles to please journal editors and reviewers, without caring who the readers are or what the readers might take it to the next stage. This is a huge betrayal to young children who dream to be scientists.

I refuse to remember that I have ever had this stage of betrayal, but I do understand one mechanism that may lead to this behaviour. Before I came to the UK to study this degree in Education, I was not trained in a way that I was respected as an independent researcher. When I was less trained I always felt that I was just some sort of assistant that help someone to produce scientific evidence. Even when I was more trained I did not feel that my publication would one day influence anyone substantially.

Of course, science is allowed to make mistakes, and science should be based on small progresses rather than heroic discovery (in my opinion). But I do feel it is my responsibility to be scientific, and I do feel many of us do not have the luxury to think about science when they write papers because of job insecurity, because of fame, or because no one has had confidence that they could contribute to the change of a better world. This is a shame.

Students assess their professors by the number of Nature or Science paper published. Doctors compare among peers by publications and grants. Even in my young-ish life time this has not always been the case, but for younger generation they seem to assume science has been like this for ages, and will continue to be forever. A bit like internet. We did not have internet then, but the younger generations may not realise this is something that is relatively new.