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PEER REVIEW IN THE POLIT IC IZED ACADEMY
The Hidden Costs of Journal Peer Review
Robert Weissberg
Published online: 18 April 2013# Springer Science+Business Media New York 2013
Over the last thirty-five years as a political scientist I have had lots of
experience with peer review, as an author submitting articles to be reviewed and
as a referee. In principle, at least in political science, and I suspect the social
sciences more generally, it is a decent quality control system. Nevertheless, it
can also facilitate ideologically driven control over scholarship, no small matter
as real-world politics increasingly invades the academy and publishing in peer-
reviewed journals becomes the indispensable ticket to tenure.
First some background regarding how peer review works, at least in the
social sciences. You write a paper, circulate a draft among colleagues, and
then send it off to a peer-reviewed journal and hope for the best. The editor
recruits referees, assigns the paper a number to shield authorship, and after
perhaps a few months he must sort out the assessments. If referees initially
disagree or express qualms, the editor might request “revise and resubmit”
and rely on a third referee to resolve disagreements. Especially in the top
journals, outcomes are mainly negative, so rejected authors typically then
submit the paper to a less prestigious journal (this hierarchy is well known in
social science disciplines though it can be complicated for highly specialized
journals). This quest for publication may continue for years with multiple
submissions, particularly since only successes count regardless of the number of
rejections.
Acad. Quest. (2013) 26:157–165DOI 10.1007/s12129-013-9353-8
Robert Weissberg is professor emeritus of political science at the University of Illinois at Urbana–Champaign, Champaign, IL 61820; [email protected]. He is the author of many books, most recentlyThe Limits of Civic Activism: Cautionary Tales on the Use of Politics (2004), Pernicious Tolerance: HowTeaching to “Accept Differences” Undermines Civil Society (2008), and Bad Students, Not Bad Schools(2010), all published by Transaction.
Two features of this process warrant special mention. First, referee judgment
is anonymous and this secrecy opens the door to irresponsibility. A referee
wanting to decline a submission can misrepresent the author’s views, lie to rebut
rock-solid research, or otherwise behave capriciously with zero personal cost.
Petty jealousies may even surface when the referee can identify the author.
Writers are generally defenseless against such attacks, no matter how
outrageous or patently false. Editors and their staff generally lack the time and
energy to meddle in these spats, given the crush of other articles awaiting
consideration and their own lack of specialized expertise. Most editors look for
ways to say no, and truth be told, most articles do not deserve publication.
Potential irresponsibility also applies to the journal’s editing. No fixed rules exist
regarding who gets to review a submission and editors know from experience that
certain referees are “killers” who pick everything apart as deficient, while others
are far more generous. An editor can “honestly” therefore kill a piece that he
dislikes for whatever reason, including ideological aversion, simply by forwarding
it to an excessively demanding reviewer. A death sentence can also be given by
facilitating an ideological mismatch: sending a submission that reaches a
“conservative” conclusion to a referee famous for strident liberalism.
In other words, everything about publishing in refereed journals can, at
least potentially, resemble sausage-making—nobody can tell what went into
the process prior to the paper appearing in print.
The upshot of potential irresponsibly is for those submitting articles for
review to play it very, very safe. The odds are against you in any case (top
journals reject nearly everything), but an author should not create even more
obstacles by angering anonymous reviewers or the editor. A wise and
commonplace strategy would be to stay safely within the confines of accepted
wisdom and use ample amounts of professional jargon to indicate familiarity
with prevailing professional norms. Better to publish innocuous second-rate
stuff in a first-rate peer-reviewed journal than to try to hit a scholarly home run
and suffer rejection.
One can also up the odds of acceptance by heaping lavish praise on
potential reviewers (however undeserved) while copiously citing friends who
can be counted on to say “publish” if the submission comes their way. (These
friends have probably read drafts, so the author will be known to them.)
Most important, in all instances avoid trouble by steering clear of anything
even slightly “controversial.” Don’t kid yourself about speaking truth to
power. If you are writing about urban politics and the prevailing orthodoxy insists
158 Weissberg
The upshot of avoiding trouble is that whole areas of scholarship become
dead zones where only the politically ultra-orthodox can survive. This is
most obvious in anything having to do with “the groups”—African American
studies, women’s studies, Hispanic studies, queer studies, or any other
subfield populated by clearly identifiable ideologues.
Even the choice of explanatory factors can lead to papers being DOA
regardless of subject matter. Good luck to scholars who employ cognitive
ability as measured by IQ when examining economic development or civil
violence. How about submitting a paper that meticulously demonstrates that
lack of impulse control explains poverty? Actually, when all these off-limits
fields and subfields are added up, little remains open to anybody willing to
challenge the bien-pensant crowd.
So what’s a scholar to do who refuses to drink the ideological Kool
Aid but wants to publish in refereed journals? Stick to fields whose
obscurity and technical complexities virtually preclude ideological
intrusion. Prominent examples include rational choice, mathematical
modeling, and statistical methodology. A savvy publication-minded
scholar is also advised to dress up the paper with obtuse mathematics
to intimidate readers with limited knowledge of mathematics. After all,
nobody can antagonize the thought police for applying stochastic
calculus models to a series of wars involving Country A versus
Country B while Country C sat on the sidelines deciding whether to enter the
fray. All perfect insurance against rejection for being politically incorrect, a
throwback to the era when the “wrong” scholarship risked death so sages wrote
in convoluted Latin.
The same “keep it obscure and irrelevant” advice even applies to the
innumerate—become the world’s leading authority on an obscure
fourth-century French cleric and his previously unrecognized contribution to
the theory of republican government (and the clincher might be that this scholar
was a woman living as a man in a monastery). Again, it’s hard to get into trouble
if nobody reads your musings. And who will deny that this is “serious
scholarship”?
The Hidden Costs of Journal Peer Review 159
that black electoral control has been a boon for African Americans in Detroit,
don’t disagree. You can never win an argument with an anonymous reviewer.
Journal submissions are not evidence-based debates or marketplaces of ideas—
once the essay is in editorial hands, you have no voice in the outcome, no matter
how biased or wrong-headed.
This avoidance strategy also offers the advantage of reducing academic
competition, thanks to the technical knowledge barriers to entry. While there
may be thousands toiling in American or European politics generally, those
viewing the world from the perspective of rational choice (among several
other arcane subfields) may not exceed a hundred, and even better, they
may all know one another and I’d guess profitably engage in mutual
back-scratching.
All and all, this is bad news for scholarship. When viewed from outer
space the landscape is bleak and it is no wonder that fewer and fewer
academics writing for peer-reviewed journals become “public
intellectuals.” Actually, after years of writing in jargon, some
academics may have lost the ability to communicate in plain English.
How this affects recruitment of graduate students into the profession is a
topic of great concern, but I’ll leave that subject for another day.
An Untimely Death by Peer Review: A Personal Account
To illustrate the power of peer review to create academic dead zones, let
me offer a personal account that involved the hot-button topic of race. Back in
the late 1980s I presented a paper at the Midwest Political Science Association
offering an overview of current research on American racial politics. It
highlighted various research lacunae that, at least in my estimation,
warranted closer scrutiny.
The panel filled the room with many listening just outside the doorway and
others sitting on the floor. This, I should add, was highly unusual at the Midwest
convention, where most panels attract only a smattering of observers. Reaction to
all the papers including mine was exceptionally lively (but very civil) and might
have continued for hours afterward. Nobody criticized anything as hateful, racist,
or inappropriate for a disciplinary meeting. I reasonably concluded that a large
audience existed for a frank discussion on this “taboo” topic.
I then submitted a revised version of my paper to the American Journal of
Political Science, a prestigious journal in my field. After a few months an
editor’s rejection arrived accompanied by two reviews. One unequivocally
advised acceptance but added, “I disagree with some of the author’s points,
but the topic is a critical one, long under-examined and this paper might
instigate important, much needed research.” The second reviewer was
unambiguously negative.
160 Weissberg
The “reject” review failed to address my key points regarding how current
research on race was incomplete. Instead, it sidestepped everything with a
rambling, prolix literature review of sundry well-researched race-related
subjects, many about court cases, all of which had been around for decades. In
effect, this reviewer was saying “today’s research on race is fine, so no need to
venture elsewhere.” Evidently, the one negative review trumped the strong
positive one from the other reviewer.With this verdict, there was no need to get a
third opinion to settle the one “Yes,” one “No” outcome.
Then something highly unusual happened—the one positive reviewer called
me up. I had never met him but knew his work well and it was first-rate. He was
a self-defined leftist, a supporter of the civil rights agenda, but also, as he told
me, a strong believer in professionalism and let the chips fall where they may.
We chatted for over an hour and he told me that he had previously dabbled in
racial politics but then abandoned it. We both agreed that when it came to doing
research on race, it was futile to struggle to secure research funding, get
published, or otherwise move up professionally with so many other
noncontroversial research topics available.
What is also unusual about this tale is how far I got into the system before
quitting. Other academics but especially those early in their careers are unlikely
even to contemplate writing about race unless they desire a career in the African
American academic establishment. They know full well that the topic is a
minefield where the slightest deviation from the orthodoxy can end an academic
career, even for African Americans. Awareness of this reality probably begins in
graduate school and is likely hammered home by dissertation advisors who
quietly tell advisees about the scholarly version of racial apartheid.
Curing the Ideological Mischief of Peer Review
How can we maintain high scholarly standards while minimizing the
pernicious impact of ideology? Let me suggest four solutions—all feasible,
none excessively expensive—that can be implemented relatively quickly. The
first two involve making the process more transparent and therefore more
responsible. The third suggests creating an “alternative universe,” while the
fourth would use the Internet to eliminate any and all ideologically-imposed
choke points.
As noted, the current system’s anonymity permits bias—the ideologically
driven reviewer can irresponsibly say “publish” no matter how shoddy the
The Hidden Costs of Journal Peer Review 161
research, and this low standard further encourages yet more journal submissions
with the “right” bias that, ultimately, creates a collection of one-sided research
called “the scholarly consensus.” Some of this ideologically motivated exchange
of favors can be eliminated by listing those who consented to publication. With
this public acknowledgment in place, the strident ideologue might think twice
about green-lighting a thinly disguised, sloppily executed polemic. Indeed, for
time-pressed readers a quick glance at the referee names might be a shortcut to
avoid wasting time, while the editor might also think twice about being exposed
for cooking the books. There is also the benefit of curtailing cronyism, no small
matter when the intellectual value of a publication is weighed. A published article
exclusively approved by the author’s friends will surely be discounted, no
matter the quality.
A second route to transparency is to alter the meaning of “peer-reviewed.”
Just replace the anonymous referee system with a publicly identified board of
review (this already occurs at some journals and is considered legitimate). In
some instances, the review board may run in the dozens with multiple
specialties. In any case, authors submitting manuscripts could anticipate who
will judge their work and it would not take much to sniff out potential killer
bias. The other side of the coin would be that the publicly identified editorial
board members would have to take full responsibility for approving any
ideologically flavored rubbish.
A third possibility might be called “creating an alternative universe by
avoiding current, corrupt peer review.” Just establish new journals—even
electronic ones explicitly welcoming to those who might challenge prevailing
consensus—journals for the ultra-unorthodox, so to speak. (Highly regarded
but now defunct, The Public Interest exemplified this approach with its
penchant for articles probably not publishable by more “academic” journals.)
A variant might be an annual book series with titles like “Controversies in
Political Research.” Such publications would encourage multiple viewpoints,
not just tit-for-tat counter-balancing the other side’s partiality. This solution rests
on my observation that many academics, even liberals and perhaps many radicals
are reasonably open-minded when judging journal submissions (recall my personal
experience with such a leftist referee).
There is, however, a major problem with promoting openness to
“controversial” ideas. It is one thing to get “controversial” ideas in print,
but quite another to get these publications accepted as legitimate currency in the
academic marketplace. And without this certification, these “controversial”
162 Weissberg
contributions will be ignored, even judged as liabilities in departments dominated
by narrow-minded ideologues. The parallel is how many departments disregard
anything, nomatter how profound, that appears in journalistic outlets. Suchwritings
are disregarded as not being “serious scholarship.” In short, getting ideas out only
counts if the vehicle is certified as “academic” and this certification can be
politically motivated.
Lastly, we can eliminate all gatekeepers regardless of bias simply by
“publishing” everything on the Internet. This is far less radical than it may
initially appear and, to play the environmentalist card, it would save millions of
trees (and gallons of ink) while reducing carbon emissions. Meanwhile,
financially strapped academic departments would no longer have to subsidize
editorial costs (including expensive copyediting), but the big winners would be
libraries now freed from warehousing expensive (and seldom read) journals. A
further dividend might be the reduction of professional dues. And when I say
publish “everything,” I mean everything no matter how polemical or poorly
executed.
Here’s how. Anybody who wants to publish a paper would simply email an
electronic version to the headquarters of his profession, where it would be
immediately posted on the associationwebsite. Authorswould provide keywords to
sort out this avalanche and subscribers would automatically be sent daily
downloadable unscreened listings in their specialties. “Papers” would include the
author’s email address and a link to where readers can post comments. At last, a
wide open marketplace of ideas.
Actually, much of this exists in the form of informal networks where authors
share prepublication drafts for comments. Obviously, the principle benefit is to
eliminate ideologicallymotivated gatekeepers, but there are intellectual rewards.
First, since everything is now “published,” evaluations for tenure, salary
increases, and promotion must be based on actual substance, not the shortcut “it
must be decent since it was published in the Journal of Modern Obscure
Nonsense.”
A second, non-obvious intellectual benefit might be called “scholarly birth
control.” Since everything, no matter how dreadful, is now “published,”
those who unhappily waste years trying (usually unsuccessfully) to turn dross
into gold can better spend their time elsewhere, perhaps improving their
teaching or correcting student essays. Experienced professors know this
phenomenon all too well: the colleague who has been struggling with a
paper, constantly revising it and sending it out for consideration. Eventually,
The Hidden Costs of Journal Peer Review 163
it may see the light of day, though truth be told, few will read it and it will die
an obscure death. That understood, I’d predict that the number of papers
intended for journals might decline once authors recognize that getting
published has zero benefits, since everyone is published. Now only those
who really have something to contribute would contribute.
Conclusion
Illustrations aside, it should be clear that the potential for ideological control
of scholarship via peer review can apply across the political spectrum. Liberals
and radicals are today’s guilty party, but tomorrow it could be conservatives and
I suspect that in some obscure corners of the academy, conservatives dominate.
This analysis is about opening up the dissemination of knowledge, not some
scheme to give voice to “conservative” views currently excluded by peer review.
Now for the bottom line. What are the odds of any of these suggestions to
promote openness succeeding? Each recommendation is reasonable, not too
costly, and all, in one form or another, already exist.
The future looks bleak. With few exceptions today’s academics are not
interested in a wide open marketplace of ideas without gatekeepers in the social
sciences. After all, liberals and radicals—especially those pushing “group”
agendas—have spent decades securing control over the academy, including
many of its journals, and are hardly anxious to surrender their prize in the name
of some lofty appeal to intellectual openness.
Many of these academics will also insist that one-sided “scholarship” is vital to
achieving social justice. Moreover, permitting ideological dissenters a soapbox,
they argue, only gives voice to “hate,” homophobia, racism, and similar bad
thinking. The sad reality is that as the gap between their ideological fantasy that
dominates today’s social sciences and the real world widens, the need to quash
contrary views grows more pressing.
Even non-ideologues have a vested interest in keeping peer review somewhat
corrupt. More than a few professors, particularly in small, arcane fields, have
learned to manipulate the system. What could be more career-boosting than a
long vita of peer-reviewed articles in a reject-nearly-everything prestige journal
that barely anybody can comprehend? Why abandon a wonderful arrangement
that has taken years of mutual favors to achieve?
Despite all this, let me suggest one sliver of hope. This generation of
indecipherable social science “knowledge” facilitated by peer review’s incentives
164 Weissberg
may ultimately collapse other than as a currency to distribute professional rewards.
Recall the decline of turgid Latin-basedmedieval scholasticism—millions of words
now almost totally gone. At some point no one will actually read anything for
content; articles (or, more likely, their abstracts) will instead be examined only to
keep abreast with the literature or to populate one’s own research papers with
citations.
The result, hopefully, will be a shift in attention toward non-refereed
publications as a source of scholarly insights, perhaps publications sponsored by
think tanks, foundations, even “intellectual” magazines like Commentary. In
other words, with so little substance in peer-reviewed outlets, those seeking real
knowledge will turn to well-researched content independent of the
certification process. An essay will be deemed “good” for the simple reason
that it is good—and the way it managed to find its way into print will, happily,
become irrelevant.
The Hidden Costs of Journal Peer Review 165