There is something rotten in the state of Denmark, writes Richard Grant in his blog, bemoaning the fact that training students to write clear, uncongested prose is rather more difficult than persuading panthers to walk upwind while breathing through their ears.
At the same time, Nuruddeen Lewis discusses ways to improve the spotty standards of scientific presentation; Martin Fenner offers a YouTube clip of scientists at play which shows that scientists don’t know the difference between sound equipment and a hole in the ground.
Can you detect a common theme here?
Although we at Nature do provide some advice and links on how to write a scientific paper, one could argue that we do this more as a community service rather than anything else. We’re in the business of publishing material that’s already written decently, or so we hope, rather than teaching people how to write decently to begin with.
In a comment on Richard’s blog post, Martin Fenner writes
‘I see a dilemma: we want to encourage good scientific writing, but at the same time a paper should not be rejected because someone has done good science but bad writing.’
So, until Nature (or any other journal) makes it explicit that papers might be rejected for the poverty of their prose and that reason alone (which we emphatically do not) then, one might argue, we have no particular responsibility towards the general standards of literacy in the community. Now, one might argue further, were one to be so argumentative, that it is in the interest of journals to maintain, even raise, standards of literacy, and Nature and other organizations such as the British Association do offer internships for scientists keen to learn about the media. But we don’t actually offer courses in writing or presentation.
I have a feeling that the standards of literacy in science won’t rise until scientists themselves feel that it is in their own interests that they should, and this won’t happen until journals pay greater attention to accessibility than they do. But – and I’m among friends here, so I can be candid – scientific editors aren’t going to turn down a potentially citation-grabbing paper because it’s badly written. If Professor Trellis is a genius in the field of the release of calcium from intracellular stores, who cares that he is to literary expression what James D. Watson is to inter-racial relations? After all, we have a team of seasoned sub-editors who can turn small segments of knotted bailer twine marinaded in chicken shit into passable simulacra of the Bayeux Tapestry, so as long as Professor Trellis’s prose is this side of Palaeolithic, everything will turn out just fine. (I should add, very quickly, that we’d apply the same criteria and standards to papers irrespective of their likely citation potential, but you get the point).
I do wonder, though, how long this state of affairs will last.
Selecting papers for publication in Nature is rather like standing in front of a firehose and picking out a few choice drops of water. Even then, _Nature_’s subeditors remain hardpressed, given that papers these days contain volumes (volumes) of accessory and supplementary material — none of which existed a decade ago. Online publication means that papers are published round the clock, rather than just once a week. And things are unlikely to get any easier. So, whereas I am not making any predictions, I’d guess that as time goes by, the onus will increasingly be on authors, rather than editors or sub-editors, to make their papers as plainly written as possible.
One might say the same about conference presentations, too. The scientists who make the best impression will attract the most attention, and in an increasingly crowded world in which everyone is shouting at once, one needs all the help one can get – from organizing one’s notes to learning how to use a microphone properly.
I’ve sometimes thought that if my latest money-making idea doesn’t take off, I might evolve a sideline by offering my services to PIs of big labs, teaching their graduate students how to write papers and give effective talks – as an integrated package, everything from PA systems (yes please) to the passive voice (no thanks). I know I’m good, and although I couldn’t quite justify supermodel Naomi Campbell’s classic boast that she wouldn’t get out of bed for less than £10,000, I think that I could charge a hefty wedge. Ms Campbell (who is, as far as I know, not related to the current Editor of Nature) has nicer legs than I do, but our legs are, in this arena, not an issue.
The question now remains – am I bothered? At this precise moment I couldn’t give a tinker’s cuss about the Condition of Denmark Question. It’s a sunny day; my Forsythia has burst into blossom; and a chicken has, just now – and most obligingly – laid an egg for my lunch. Professor Trellis and his ilk will just have to wait.
Excellent post. You make some very good points. I think that although papers may not be rejected simply because they are poorly written, I would bet that poorly written papers are much more likely to be rejected.
You might be right, Nuruddeen, but hold off placing that bet just yet. Given that we at Nature don’t use the literary quality (or otherwise) of a paper as a grounds for rejection, it’s certainly true, in my experience, that an editor is more likely to be more favorably disposed towards a well-written paper than to a poorly written one. However, it’s more a ‘feel’ thing than anything else, and in any case, I can remember papers I’ve rejected quite recently that were a real pleasure to read, but which I rejected on the more concrete grounds that they did not represent a sufficiently fundamental advance to merit consideration in Nature rather than a specialty journal.
As journals move toward a pay-to-publish model, and as sub-editors aren’t cheap (even if they can be quite poorly paid), could one encouragement be fiscal? ie the acceptance fee for open-access journals is more for those that require more sub-editing work?
Should a journal not so well-stocked with subs consider rejecting unintelligible papers on the grounds that a journal, and more broadly, the scientific tradition, is about communication of ideas?
Hi Scott – you raise some interesting — and disturbing — ideas. However, I for one am not sure whether the pay-to-publish model is sustainable in the long term, at lkeast in the general market. But I would say that, wouldn’t I?
Alternatively, perhaps the solution is for all scientists to publish their papers entirely as anagrams – as was common in the 17th century.
Scientists can still get a decent publication record, all their colleagues are at the same disadvantage in terms of understanding, and the subs can all have a day off. No? :)