By Frankie Harnett, Natalie Klinkenberg, Mishelle Kennady and Chloë Marshall
The history of scholarly publishing in the UK has seen many developments, but the industry still struggles to overcome contemporary consequences. Today, key players in the research lifecycle include researchers/academics, students, publishers, funders, librarians and the public. Research in the UK is funded publicly, charitably and privately through various sources: UKRI (UK Research and Innovation) is the largest public source and supports a broad spectrum of industries. Wellcome Trust, an independent charitable foundation, mainly funds health and biomedical research. Finally, other philanthropic organisations and private research infrastructures provide funding through grants and other opportunities.
Researchers (and occasionally students) produce and peer review work, with the help of librarians, which commercial publishers, associations or university presses publish. The first two university presses in the UK were founded in 1534 and 1586 at Cambridge and Oxford, respectively – no surprises there – but now there is a much more diverse institutional publishing landscape. However, most academic research in the UK is published by just a few corporations, effectively controlling access to important scholarships. Universities that either fund or manage research funding must then pay again to access it. Between 2017 and 2019, UK universities spent over £353 million with just ten publishers, while in 2022 alone, they paid over £112 million to just five publishers in APCs for open-access publication for their authors. Whether it’s subscription fees or APCs, universities require enormous budgets to provide researchers with the intellectual material they need.
Self-governance is highly influential in the scientific community, and it is believed that isolation from external factors leads to greater scientific contributions. However, self-governance is diminished when relying on big publishers who cater towards shareholders. With journal prices skyrocketing since post-WWII, research is more difficult to access due to the dysfunctional academic publishing market. While conducting government-funded research, academics provide free labour: submitting their articles, taking part in editorial boards and peer reviewing for free due to their expertise in the field. Once the research is completed, big publishers charge pricey subscription fees for large bundles so institutions can gain access to the specific research they want to provide to their patrons.
Not all landscapes in academic publishing look like this, as some aren’t dominated by big publishers. However, when publishing-mogul Robert Maxwell stepped forth in the UK and bought enough shares to control the Butterworths–Springer merger, his goal was a company far more efficient and profitable than small publishers. Mark W. Neff states that Maxwell knew this market was different because of the “almost ceaseless growth of demand and free labour,” when the norm viewed scientific research as something that should not be motivated by monetary gain. By proposing new journals to academics, Maxwell secured contracts that changed the landscape of scholarly publishing.
The term ‘to publish or perish’, coined by Harold Jefferson Coolidge in 1932, refers to the pressure on academics to publish for scholarly career success. Exacerbated in recent decades with the privatisation of universities, frequent publication is seen as essential to attracting students and external funding. This emphasis on mass publication has led to lower-quality research and given rise to a host of unethical practices. Some, like plagiarism, are easier to detect and prevent. However, more obscure publication fraud is more complex to detect and stop. Researchers Seema Rawat and Sanjay Meena argue for stronger controls to curb this behaviour and maintain academic integrity.
With the rush to publish quickly, research and methods are tailored towards what journals are more likely to accept: trendy topics are widely popular as a way to increase readership. Alan Baddely’s study also shows that conventional methods are being reproduced more widely than innovative methods, as highly regarded journals more reliably accept them. In an article for Oxford University Press, Johan et al. argue that this effect has added to publication anxiety and encouraged the production of mainstream, ‘safe’ research at the expense of new and creative studies.
The criteria for academic journal prestige are thus hindering the growth and development of bibliodiversity. Serious researchers actively seek out big commercial presses for their reputation, but this increases exclusivity and cost. The Journal Impact Factor (JIF) was a metric initially intended to help libraries make apt purchasing decisions under a budget by calculating how often a specific paper or article was cited. The JIF is now seen to distinguish academic success from obscurity, while research-intensive institutions often mention and support its use even though it is not indicative of quality. ‘High-impact’ has become a prerequisite for being rewarded with funding, and scientists are scrambling to be featured. This index limits research capabilities because it forces writing to adhere to the standards of specific journals as scientists are no longer willing to take on new risky topics because they fear not being favoured by academic editors. Without bibliodiversity, we face the danger of neglecting significant scientific advancements, confining ourselves to the knowledge produced by a small number of esteemed journals and publishers.
Alternatives to publishing in big-name, prestigious journals exist, such as publishing with university presses or non-profit publishing organisations that disseminate open-access research in the UK. Examples include Open Book Publishers and the Open Institutional Publishing Association, which work to make academic publishing more accessible to the public.
Knowledge is power that should not be kept behind a paywall, where the public and researchers alike are blocked from accessing information they want and have often already paid for through taxes. By de-commercialising the world of academic publishing, important scholarly research would reach a more diverse audience, creating an industry that doesn’t cater just to corporations but to the public affected by the research itself.
コメント