I was reading yet another “Scientists behaving badly” article. This one was about Jonathan Pruitt, who used to work where I used to work (different departments). And, as it usual in these articles, there is a section about how institutions assess research:
Many attribute the rising rate of retractions to academia’s high-pressure publish-or-perish norms, where the only route to a coveted and increasingly scarce permanent job, along with the protections of tenure and better pay, is to produce as many journal articles as possible. That research output isn’t just about publishing papers but also how often they’re cited. Some researchers might try to bring up their h-index (which measures scientific impact, based on how many times one is published and cited), or a journal might hope that sharing particularly enticing results will enhance its impact factor (calculated using the number of citations a journal receives and the number of articles it publishes within a two-year period).
It finally occurred to me that focusing on the indicators like citations and Impact Factor are all symptoms of a larger mindset.
The major watchword for administrators and funders for decades has been “excellence.” Some prefer a near synonym, “impact.” Everyone wanted to reward excellent research, which is an easy sell. Nobody wants to admit that they want to support average research — even though that’s what most research is, by definition. But most of science progresses by millimetres on the basis of average research. Even poor research can have some nuggets of data or ideas that can be useful to others.
I suggest a new overarching principle to guide assessment: integrity. We should be paying attention to, and rewarding research and researchers that act in the most trustworthy ways. Who are building the most solid and dependable research. That can be assessed by practices like data sharing and code sharing, and by showing of community use and replication.
The pursuit of excellence has proved too fickle and too likely to make people act sketchy to become famous. Let’s change the target.
External links
A rock-star researcher spun a web of lies—and nearly got away with it
