Scientific research projects end with the sharing of results and discoveries. This has been a central part of the research process since the world’s first scientific journal was published by the Royal Society in 1665.
Since the second half of the 20th century, we have mostly seen this happening through the publication of peer reviewed journal articles. But just because this is what happened in the past, it doesn’t mean it has to continue that way.
The history of scientific publication has always been one of change. Sometimes that change has been slow, sometimes it has been extraordinarily fast. The advent of the internet, for example, changed publication from a print-based activity to one conducted almost completely digitally.
Publishing research through the internet meant that, in theory, many more people were able to read these articles. However, paywalls and subscription fees continued to keep readers out of library collections in the same way that bricks and mortar kept them away from physical editions.
The Francis Crick Institute wholeheartedly signs up to the open access principles, which aim to make scientific articles available to everyone. However, publishing is not free, so who should pay?
In response to the push for greater open access, publishers changed from a reader-pays model to an author-pays model. These models are now bringing us to another watershed moment in publishing, with researchers and librarians pushing back on the idea of paying thousands of pounds to provide access to research.
Fees for publishing a single article in a journal can reach up to £10,000, funds which could pay for further research. Other publishers, often associated with scientific societies or universities, manage this process for a much smaller amount of money.
While publishers provide justifications for the costs, some also report large profit margins. This leads to the question, is it the best way to promote research in the modern age?
Other models have been developed to provide access to research which do not require researchers to pay publishers to manage the process. Early internet adopters shared their papers on listservs, harking back to the times when researchers would share results through letters to like-minded peers.
These initial grassroots efforts have led to both green open access and preprints, The major difference between the two models is the stage at which research is shared; preprints are usually shared before peer review, while green open access versions are mostly shared after.
Preprints are often shared as a step before submitting to traditional journals, which then take care of peer review and publishing. However, there have recently been exciting and disruptive initiatives to look at how preprints themselves can be reviewed.
eLife has led the way on this, changing to a ‘publish, review, curate’ model which provides peer review services and a platform on which to showcase publications, but which removes the traditional gatekeeping of editors and ensures that research is immediately accessible. Although eLife charges for the services it provides, there are others in the field using the new model to support 'diamond' publishing, where neither the author nor the reader pays, but where institutions invest in the system.
There are concerns among some publishers that allowing green open access and preprints would put them out of business, but this same argument has been made for the last twenty years and it hasn’t happened yet. Where access to content is provided at a reasonable cost, libraries will still subscribe to provide curated content with added value.
But publishers now need to think carefully about what this added value is. Is it simply providing a beautified version and a landing page? Is it to aid discovery and help signpost readers to the most useful content? Does it involve ensuring that content is accurate, reproducible and conducted in an ethical way?
This last question is the most pertinent in these times of generative AI and paper mills. Even reputable journals are finding it harder and harder to ensure that the content they publish has not been tainted by bad actors, presenting low-quality work wrapped up in a bow.
Publishing houses are building research integrity teams and starting to use a variety of tools to detect image manipulation and plagiarised content, but problematic articles still slip through. Despite these growing teams, many journals still rely on the free labour of researchers to identify any problems during peer review, but researchers who are experts in the science may not be experts in spotting carefully and deliberately manipulated results.
If commercial journals wish to remain at the heart of the scientific publishing process, now is the time for them to step up to these new challenges.
More than a million biomedical research papers are published every year, a global deluge no scientist could hope to stay on top of.
Beth explores what the crisis means for scientific research and how a new kind of publishing could emerge fit for the future.
