That's Not What I Meant

As an editor of a journal, the feedback that I give to authors of publishable papers varies from:

optional advice, along the lines of "I think your paper would be improved if you added/deleted/considered X, but this is just a suggestion for you to use or reject. I'm accepting the paper anyway, so whatever you decide is fine" (although I don't word it exactly that way);

to

make these changes or else, along the lines of "Reviewers (and/or I) found the following errors that must be fixed. Most of the paper is fine and quite interesting, so I'm inclined to accept it but you have to do a very thorough revision or I will not hesitate to reject the paper" (although I don't word it exactly that way).

I always think that I am being unambiguous about whether I am giving friendly (optional) advice or a do-or-die editorial command, but I can tell from some author responses that they are reading between the lines of my editorial decisions, even the friendly ones.

This possible case of reading between the lines was particularly troubling to me:

In a paper that I thought was quite likely to be acceptable after moderate revisions, the authors did a good job with the revisions, but the manuscript needed re-review because the revisions were rather extensive. The reviewer (who had also reviewed the first version) liked the paper, but made a few more constructive suggestions to improve the paper; these did not require additional work or $ (other than thought/time) -- the reviewer (and I) just thought the authors should give some more thought to a few things that would potentially broaden the readership of the paper. In my decision, which clearly stated that I was going to accept the paper whether or not the additional changes were made, I explained why I thought these suggestions were worth consideration. 

The revised revised paper came back with a few changes, but the most significant one was the addition of at least 4 new references: all to papers on which I am a co-author!!

Did the authors think my advice was somehow code for "I want you to cite my work more?" If so, this is disturbing, as this was definitely not my intention and quite a stretch to interpret this from my words or actions. As it happens, the citations are relevant, but the paper was fine without them.

It is sad if the authors were so cynical as to think that I would only be satisfied if they cited my work more. I had already told them that I was going to accept the paper, so it would be very strange (and deeply disturbing) if they thought my decision hinged on their citing my papers. One of my colleagues thinks that my general instruction (based on the reviewer comment) inspired the authors to read more widely in the relevant literature, whereupon they encountered some of my papers and decided that these would be good to cite. Maybe, and that might explain 1, maybe 2 new citations, but 4? Strange.

The paper was accepted, as originally decided, but I involved another editor in further interaction with these authors, as I was no longer comfortable dealing with this group alone.

Have you ever deliberately cited the work of an editor (not a possible reviewer, but specifically the editor), hoping it would increase your chances of having the paper accepted? At what stage did you do this: in the first version (if you knew the likely or certain identity of the editor) or during a revision stage? Do you really think it matters? This is either a test of your cynicism level or of my delusion/naïveté level.

Format Matters

When you are submitting a manuscript, do you format the text, tables etc. in the style of the journal or do you wait and see if the paper is going to be accepted before taking the time to do that?

Some journals (editors) get annoyed if the manuscript is not already (mostly) in the journal format at the time of submission, even if the paper may be rejected. One reason for this is that the formatting stage can add an extra step; that is, one more back-and-forth between editor and authors, so it's more efficient if the formatting is done at the beginning (and any problems fixed in the review stage). If the paper is accepted, this helps everyone; if the paper is rejected, the authors wasted some time.

Avoiding this extra step definitely makes the review process faster for the author. In my experience, it is the rare author who sufficiently takes care of all necessary formatting issues in the revision stage if they didn't previously make an attempt at following journal format in the first submission. If they try to format the manuscript correctly the first time, I can comment on any problems, and then these can be fixed in the revised manuscript. If the manuscript is not formatted until the revision stage, I typically have to send it back again for technical fixes. Some of the details of formatting can be taken care of by the diligent copy-editors employed by the journal, but the paper is supposed to be (mostly) in journal format when the editors send it along to the copy-editors.

And beware submitting a paper with flawed reference lists to some journals! Certain large publishing companies use manuscript submission software that detects even minor flaws that used to be dealt with at a later stage of the review process but that now can delay review of a manuscript. Wouldn't it be nice if these clever programs also formatted the manuscript (including references) for you, saving time for everyone? As an author and editor, I would like that. Formatting my own manuscripts and checking the formatting of manuscripts of others is tedious.

Anyway, there may be reasons beyond efficiency to format the manuscript in the style of the journal to which it is submitted. As an editor, when I see a manuscript submitted in the very characteristic style of another journal, it does cross my mind that the manuscript might have been rejected by that journal and submitted to my journal. Does that matter if this thought flits across my brain? Probably not, but, as an author, I'd rather an editor not have that thought.

A prior rejection may be irrelevant to another journal depending on why it was rejected by the other journal and whether any significant changes were made to fix potential problems. I am not necessarily talking about rejection by High Impact Journals, but also peer journals (in terms of impact factor and topic).

If a manuscript with suspicious formatting seems worthy of review, it will be reviewed by my journal despite the xeno-formatting, but on more than one occasion I have received an e-mail from an invited reviewer of one of these manuscripts saying "I already reviewed this for the X Journal and it doesn't look like they have changed anything. This is the same paper and I still hate it." That's not good. Not that formatting alone would improve the fate of the paper, but ideally the re-formatting and a serious revision would occur simultaneously, so re-reviewers (and editors) could potentially be more friendly to the revised paper.

So far I have mostly been discussing this from the point of view of an editor, but what actually inspired this post is the fact that I have been spending considerable time today formatting a manuscript for a particular journal. This journal has really bizarre and picky formatting rules, and I am sure I will make errors, but at least it will look mostly like a correctly formatted paper. Maybe that will help the editor 'see' it as a paper appropriate for this journal.. Or, at least, that is what I tell myself when I am making sure that I follow the correct rules for fonts, headings, first paragraph indentation (or not), in-text references, reference list...........

S/he

Can you think of a (good) reason why a journal would need to know the gender of authors and reviewers?

A reader wrote to me with this question, as a result of being required to select a gender-revealing option when registering on a journal's website. This option was separate from one asking for the professional title (Prof., Dr., Prof. Dr. etc.). It was not possible for this person, even after communicating with journal staff, to register without checking this box. In fact, the journal staff insisted that this information was essential because otherwise communication was too difficult and would involve the awkward use of "he/she" in letters, or perhaps embarrassing mistakes if the gender of the person wasn't clear from their name.

I can think of reasons why a woman would not want reviewers and editors to know her gender, but I can't think of a good reason why reviewers and editors would need to know the gender of an author or reviewer. It occurred to me that a journal might want to keep track of how many papers are published by male vs. female authors (or lead authors, in fields that make this distinction), but that is not the reason the journal gave to the reader who wrote to me about this issue. In that case, the concern was making embarrassing mistakes in using pronouns in correspondence or that someone would be offended if referred to as he/she instead of by the correct pronoun.

If a journal did want to keep track of gender data, those data could be separated from individual papers, so that editors and reviewers did not see it for any particular individual or paper. 

If you are writing to someone whose gender you do not know, why would you even use he/she or his/her in direct correspondence with them? This is a real question. Am I overlooking something?

In my role as editor and reviewer, I do not need it; 'you' is nice and direct, or I use the person's name or title. In correspondence about someone, I can use their title, a term such as "Reviewer 1" (if they are anonymous, you shouldn't use a pronoun anyway), or I refer indirectly to "the author/s", depending on context. The journal with which I am most closely involved is based in Europe, with close ties to Asia, North America, and Australia. It is more formal than many North American-based journals in its correspondence traditions, but even so, we do not need to know the gender of authors or reviewers.

Yes, I know about Frau Professor, Herr Professor etc., but those can be options for those who prefer those titles. There should not a requirement to inform a journal of your gender before you submit a paper or review an article.

Monday Pop Quiz!

Sorry to spring this on you, but I wanted to make sure that you have all been keeping up with the material. This little quiz will help me see how you're doing, and to identify any concepts that are particularly problematic for the class, so I can be sure to focus on those in my lectures in the coming weeks.

Yes, I know this quiz is not on the syllabus. It is a so-called pop quiz. I did put on the syllabus that I would give you some of these throughout the term; I just didn't say when. That's the whole point of them. The fact that this is the first one was not intended to lull you into a false sense of comfort that there wouldn't be any, but if it had that effect, I must say I'm not too ripped up about it.

And no, I don't care if you do better on quizzes if you listen to music, you can't have your ear buds in during the quiz.

The Quiz

Let's say that you happen to read a journal article that was published > 1 year ago and you see that your own (quite old) publications are cited. But: you don't like how your published work is cited in this article -- the authors didn't mis-cite you in any egregiously wrong or unethical way, but you nevertheless don't like how they did it. For example, maybe you feel that they put too much emphasis on some things that we know now that we didn't know >20 years ago when you published your cited paper(s). Or maybe you don't like how they wrote that their results might be in conflict with some results in one part of your old work. What do you do? Do you:

(a) Make an unhappy huffing sound, shrug your shoulders, and forget about it. Maybe you will mention it to the authors if you see them at a conference, but otherwise, it's not a big deal.

(b) Write a brief but polite e-mail to the primary authors, explaining your discontent and then waiting to see how they respond.

(c) Write a formal comment and send it to the authors and ask if they'd be interested in writing a reply, perhaps for publication in the journal in question.

(d) Write a formal comment and send it to the editors of the journal and let them deal with contacting the authors to see about a possible reply, perhaps for publication in the journal in question.

(e) Fire off an angry e-mail to the editor of the journal, insulting the integrity of the editor and the journal as a whole for publishing a paper that contains this unjustified attack on you and your work. Be sure to include lots of dramatic adjectives that show -- unambiguously -- just how shocked you are that this paper was published in a journal you used to respect. 

Time's up. Put your pencils down and pass your quiz forms to front.

Take Out

Summer is not a great time for editors of journals to find reviewers for manuscripts. At least, that is my experience. In the summer, many academic scientists (and others) are extremely busy trying to get as much research done as possible before the beginning of the academic year. Many of us travel (conferences, research visits etc.). Some even take a vacation.

And yet, many people submit manuscripts for review in the summer, when they have time to complete projects, so the peer review process cannot take the summer off.

With effort, I have been able to find a sufficient number of reviewers for most submitted manuscripts that I have to handle as editor, but I have also received a large number of excuses from people explaining why they can't accept my request to review a manuscript.

Of course, no one has to give a reason, but many choose to do so, no doubt feeling the invisible sting of my editorial frustration and fearing my wrath the next time they submit a manuscript to the journal I edit. Or something.

Most excuses are routine and uncreative:

• I have too many other reviews to do at this time (in fact, that's the one I use the most when declining review requests from editors of other journals).

• I am traveling non-stop for the next n weeks (further admission: I've used that one as well, but only when it's true).

• The subject of this manuscript is beyond my expertise. etc.

Boring.

This summer, I got this one from a potential reviewer:

My wife made me take her on vacation.

Shall we parse that? It's summer, we have nothing better to do, let's do it:

My wife.. It's her fault! Not mine! I really really wanted to do this review but..

made me.. I had no choice! I was coerced! She was going to refuse to make my dinner and wash my socks if I didn't accede to her demand..

take her.. ugh, this is the part I dislike the most in this sentence. Why did she need to be taken on vacation? Did he carry her? Strap her to the car roof? Does "take" mean that he paid, drove, or both, and she sat passively while he took her places?

on vacation.. because of course, given his druthers, as a serious scientists, he would not go on vacation, he would do the review. But, alas, he was not allowed to have druthers. His wife took them.

Surely we can come up with better excuses than the boring ones and the wife-made-me one. They need not even be true, as long as they are not boring.

I am requesting that each of you provide a creative, entertaining excuse for declining a request to review. Do not decline this request even though it is summer. I am quite sure that you do not have any other similar requests at this time, you can easily type one in the comment box even if you are traveling non-stop for the next n weeks, and I happen to know that your wife (or whoever) wants you to take this challenge and entertain the readers of FSP.

Editorial Soul Searching

A post last week dealt with a topic related to my work as an editor of a journal. Some commenters raised issues about editors and reviewers, and I decided to discuss at least one more editor-related topic this week.

But first, here are some links to previous posts about editors and reviewers:

Musings on the topic of rejecting manuscripts without review (2009, 2010 posts)

What do I look for in a review? (a post for those lacking confidence in their reviews)

What do editors do? (an introduction to different types of editorial work for journals, and musing about the role of editors in the peer review and publication process)

If you click on the "editor" tag in the frame to the right (you have to scroll down a bit), you can find other assorted editor-related posts, some of them stranger than others.

Now on to the new topics:

From the comments in last week's editor-themed post:

When I review papers for journals where I usually publish, I always wonder if the fact that I'm a good reviewer (on time and constructive) helps me with the editors whenever I make my own submissions. I am not implying I am expecting a freebie, but I always wonder if editors are more patient with authors that are good reviewers for the journal and less patient with people like the one you described in your comment.

In the comments last week, I described more specifically a case involving a delinquent reviewer who strung me along with promises for turning in his review, and then never did the review. In the situation involving the delinquent reviewer (with whom I communicated mostly by e-mail but also by phone, at least until he stopped communicating with me), I was (and am) so annoyed by this person's behavior that I would not be able to be objective about any manuscript he submitted to the journal; someone else would have to deal with his manuscripts. This does not place him at any disadvantage relative to any other author; his work would be evaluated on its own merits by other qualified editors. Even if he is a jerk (says me), he and his co-authors (some of whom are likely to be students) have a right to a fair evaluation of their work.

Do constructive and punctual reviewers have any advantage? Sort of, but maybe not directly. I do try to provide speedy and useful editorial assistance with the submitted manuscripts of hard-working reviewers, but there is of course no preference in terms of the decision about publication. However, even if conscientious reviewers don't derive any obvious direct benefit from being diligent, I think that there is some cosmic credit and long-term benefit from being respected for their work and professionalism. Many journals are edited by people who write a lot of external letters from tenure and promotion and who organize sessions at conferences (and therefore make decisions about invited speakers and so on). You can't build a career on being a diligent reviewer, but it is a good thing overall be considered a respected colleague who provides insightful comments in reviews.

Other examples of possible long-term consequences:

I can think of at least one person whose annoying behavior as a reviewer has meant that I have been unreceptive when he has expressed interest in working with me on various projects. If I think someone is uncommunicative and unprofessional in their work as reviewer, why would I want to work with them in any other capacity?

Furthermore, the delinquent reviewer described in the anecdote mentioned above (and in more details in the comments in last week's post) is an assistant professor. If asked to write an external letter for his tenure and promotion, I could probably set aside my annoyance with him and focus on his research record, but I hope I am not asked to do so. No one should be denied tenure (or receive tenure) because they are a bad (or excellent) reviewer, but it one small but important aspect of professional service.

Question for my readers, especially those who have served in some editorial capacity: Do you let your opinion of someone as a reviewer affect your interactions (direct or indirect) and opinions of them as a researcher?

Wearing Two Hats: Editor & Reviewer

A few times since I have been a journal editor or guest editor, authors of rejected manuscripts have written angry e-mails railing against the injustice of the negative decision by me or by one of my fellow editors. I have written about various aspects of this before, but today I was thinking about one of the reasons that some rejected authors focus on as evidence that their article was misjudged/mishandled: the editor also acted as a reviewer.

In most cases, this particular reason should not be a cause for anger. In fact, in some cases, you may be lucky that an editor also acted as a reviewer.

Common reasons why an editor would also act as reviewer are: (1) it was impossible to get enough reviewers to commit to a review owing to (a) random bad luck/timing, (b) the topic of the paper was so highly specialized that the reviewer pool was small; or (2) one or more agreed reviewers didn't return a review and an editor decided not to hold the review process up any longer. In the case of having an insufficient number of reviews, an editor can make a decision based on the review(s) in hand, but can also decide to act as an additional reviewer.

How does this work? What are the implications of having a review by someone who acts as reviewer and editor?

I can only speak about my own experiences, but from what I've seen and done, this means that the editor provides more detailed and substantive comments on the article, rather than mostly providing context and guidance based on the reviews provided by others. Of course, some editors routinely act as a reviewer in this way as well, no matter how many reviews were received.

When my editor-colleagues and I act as reviewers in addition to our editorial roles, we inform the author that we are doing this and sign the review that is ours. It would make no sense to provide an anonymous review and then agree with it as editor. We also inform the author as to the reason for our "reviewing" the manuscript -- again, this is typically because we couldn't get a sufficient number of reviews in a reasonable amount of time.

Understandably, some authors may blame an editor for a rejection, so the fact that the editor was reviewer and ultimate decider makes it seem like the deck was stacked. In fact, from what I've seen in journals with which I have been associated, manuscripts that are reviewed by editors are not rejected at a higher rate than those in which there are multiple reviews by non-editors.

I doubt if editors act as reviewers to make sure that a particular paper is rejected. If an editor wanted to sink a paper, there are much more efficient ways to do this than to spend the extra time required to expand editorial comments into a review.

Speaking again from my own experience, editor-reviewers are likely to provide useful reviews because we know what constitutes a constructive review. And if you don't get a detailed, substantive review from an editor/reviewer, the manuscript probably didn't have much of a chance to be accepted anyway.

The most recent incident involving an angry almost-author was not directed at me, but at one of my hardest-working, most diligent, and most thorough fellow editors. If this particular editor takes the time to act as a reviewer and editor, the author is actually lucky to get the extra attention. The author is assured of a fair and thoughtful review from this editor.

The fact that it didn't turn out well for the author in this case is unfortunate, but I would advise authors to wait a little while and calm down before firing off a rude e-mail accusing an editor of incompetence because s/he was unable to find enough reviewers for a manuscript. It would be better to consider carefully other possible reasons for the rejection of the manuscript (and difficulty in finding reviewers) before focusing on the dual editor/reviewer role as the favored explanation for the rejection.

Summarily Rejected (reprise)

A reader writes with a query about some manuscripts that were rejected without review; in one case the summary rejection was sort of understandable, but in the other, not at all. Summary rejection was a topic of a post last summer, but it is a perennial topic. In fact, I recently recommended rejection of a manuscript without review.

Why did I do it?

I don't do this often, but in this case the manuscript failed to cite or even mention (e.g., in a cover letter) a paper with a similar title published by the same authors in another journal last year, it was a matter of minutes to compare the two and see they were essentially the same, and, as if that weren't enough, it was a poorly written paper with conclusions unsupported by the inadequate dataset. I think that decision was quite reasonable.

Other situations involving rejection-without-review, like one described by my correspondent, are more difficult to understand, especially if the editor does not explain the basis for his/her decision to reject without review. Editors should explain the reason(s), even if it is as simple as "We can only publish 0.2% of the manuscripts we receive, we glanced at yours and weren't immediately gripped, end of story."

If you think a particular rejection-without-review is completely unwarranted given the interest-level of the paper and the fit with the journal, then it's worth trying to argue with the editor in a clear and calm way. Marshall your arguments for why your manuscript should at least be reviewed, and give it your best shot.

Editorial Opinions (2)

It is completely understandable that some people who are new to reviewing manuscripts may lack confidence in their reviews and wonder whether they are commenting on the "right" things in the "right" way and in the "right" amount of detail. It might be comforting for these uncertain reviewers to see the comments of the other reviewers to gauge whether they are on track with their own review.

Consider, though, that the content and styles of reviews vary a lot from reviewer to reviewer because reviews should vary a lot. It isn't necessarily such a good thing, then, if your review comments correspond well with those of other reviewers. In fact, if you commented on completely different things that the other reviewer didn't consider or notice, this could make the reviews even more useful to the author(s) and editors.

As an editor, I try to select reviewers who will examine a manuscript from different points of view. Of course different reviewers should be able to detect any major flaws in a manuscript, but beyond that, I want different reviewers to comment on different aspects of a manuscript. Otherwise, why get more than one review?

Doing a review is not a test that you pass or fail as a reviewer. You are providing a service to your professional community by sharing your expertise.

What should a review contain?

Reviews should provide a thorough and constructive critique of the content of a manuscript, focusing in particular on the data, analysis, and/or ideas that form the basis of the work. You should consider whether you think the interpretations are justified, making it clear whether something is objectively "wrong" or whether you just don't like it.

I am not impressed when a reviewer says "This is wrong" about something in a manuscript but doesn't explain why and doesn't provide any suggestions about better alternatives or ways to get at a not-wrong result. If you want your review comments to be considered by the editor and the author, you need to back up any criticisms as much as possible. It also helps to be polite. Your comments will be taken more seriously if you write "I do not agree with the interpretation that A follows B, and suggest instead that..." as opposed "These people are seriously stupid if they think that A follows B."

Note: Some reviewers write their reviews in the active voice, directly addressing the authors as "you", as in "You should consider deleting that entire section that starts on page 17"; others refer indirectly to "the authors", as if the comments are addressed primarily to the editor, although of course the authors will read these comments. Perhaps the custom varies in different disciplines or different journals, or maybe it is just a reviewer personality thing.

In your review, if you are going to suggest the addition of a citation of one or more of your own papers, you should explain why this should be done. As a reviewer, I typically comment on citations of my own papers, or lack thereof, only if (1) a paper is mis-cited (i.e., my paper on purple kangaroos who live in lunar craters is cited after a statement noting that green rabbits live on Neptune); or (2) if there is an egregious omission (i.e., a statement that purple kangaroos live in lunar craters and then no citation of my work whatsoever, despite the fact that I have published extensively on this topic and no one else has).

Reviewers should, to some extent, consider the manuscript as a completed thing and only suggest the addition of new items (particularly those involving new research activities that may be costly in terms of money and time) if those items are absolutely essential to the manuscript; i.e., without them, the paper is not publishable. If you truly believe that a paper is not publishable based on its current content, of course you should state this in your review and back up this opinion with reasons, but if you just think the paper would be better with more data, make it clear that you are making a suggestion, not pointing out a fatal flaw.

This is where an editor can play an important role. In many cases when I see this type of do-more suggestions in reviews, I tell the author that I think this is an unreasonable suggestion and they do not need to address it in their revision. In other cases, I concur with a reviewer and tell the author that their paper is not publishable without this additional work; fortunately these cases are quite rare.

It is also very useful if a reviewer comments on technical aspects of a manuscript, particularly those issues related to clarity. Does the organization of the text make sense or does it interfere with your understanding of the major points of the paper? Is the paper too long/too short? If not, what is a better way to present the information?

I understand if a reviewer does not want to take the time to fix the writing problems in a manuscript, especially if there are a lot of problems. I don't like doing this as a reviewer and I find it annoying as an editor, especially if at least one of the co-authors is a native English speaker. I am not paid for my work as an editor, and co-authors who are able to fix their own writing problems should take the time to do so before submitting a manuscript and expecting others to clean it up. If none of the authors are native English speakers, of course I can and do help with writing issues, but I am always grateful when a reviewer takes the time to do this as well.

To those who lack confidence in their reviews: don't worry. Just do a careful job of reading and commenting on the manuscript, and there is a very good chance that your review will be helpful to the author(s) and editor.

Keep in mind that your main job is not to point out new and different research activities that the authors should have done or could do, and focus on what is in the manuscript. Provide both general and specific comments (including noting what you liked about the manuscript, if anything, not just what you didn't like), note any problems you find, make constructive suggestions, and don't take too long with your review. Also remember that by reviewing a manuscript you are doing a great service to all involved, and perhaps learning something interesting, so don't stress out, just dive in and write out your comments.

Editorial Opinion

There are many different ways that one can be involved in the editorial aspects of scholarly journals, and one's experience with the editorial universe can also vary considerably depending on whether a journal is published by a professional society or by a for-profit company.

Some variations on the wonderful world of editing a journal include:

1. being on an editorial board that essentially serves as a pool of reviewers (i.e., if you agree to be on the editorial board, you agree to review most manuscripts that are sent to you);

2. being on an editorial board that exists only as a list of names on a journal to show.. actually, I don't know what it shows. When I agreed to be on the EB for one particular journal, I assumed that I would actually do more than just have my name listed, but so far I haven't done anything. Does my Distinguished Name add luster to this journal, inspiring more people to read it? No way. The only people who would read this journal already have an intense interest in this very specific aspect of Science. Perhaps the in-name-only EB is like having a list of "fans" or "friends" of the journal.

3. being an associate editor for journals that have an extra editorial layer between the reviewers and the editor(s). I have been an AE at various times in the past. This type of editorial organization can be a bit inefficient, but this type of structure makes sense for some journals that have a somewhat broad scope. The editors need a pool of experts who are better qualified to select reviewers and provide their own comments on the manuscript and the reviews, but the editor or editors make the final decisions.

4. being the editor of a journal. Variations on this include: (a) being the one and only chief editor of a journal, and (b) being one of 2 or more other editors who are autonomous in their decision-making. And of course these editors can either be part of a system that has associate editors or an active editorial board, or may themselves be directly involved in selecting reviewers.

I have been or currently am involved in one or more of each of the above except 4a.

Somewhere in the blogosphere recently -- I am sorry I don't remember the blog, as I was roaming somewhat indiscriminately at the time -- I read someone's opinion that editors should be eliminated so that reviewers and authors could communicate more directly. I don't remember if the person holding this opinion has ever been an editor, but I'm inclined to think not.

As anyone who has received reviews for their own manuscripts likely knows, reviews vary a lot in terms of constructiveness, thoroughness, usefulness, and politeness. Part of an editor's job is to even out some of the roughness of the reviews, to provide more substance if the reviews lack it (in some cases by finding additional reviewers), to guide authors regarding revisions, and to reconcile disparate reviews or choose one review over another as being more instructive. In rare cases, editors rescind reviews or reviewer comments that are offensive. We keep the system running despite the vagaries of the reviewers (and authors).

Being an editor of a journal that covers a broad range of topics is difficult because you have to rely so much on the expertise of others, but it is also difficult editing a more specialized journal in which you know many of the authors and reviewers. In that situation, your own professional interactions with specific individuals are at stake and may be influenced by your editorial work.

In my work as an editor, I have found it essential to have a good online editing system that keeps track of reviewer data such as: time since last review for this journal (so I don't overload anyone with too many reviews), average time it takes a reviewer to submit a review, and information about the reviewing habits of an individual (e.g., do they routinely return thorough and useful reviews or are their reviews shallow and useless?). If someone is known to me in advance to be a not-so-great reviewer but is nevertheless someone who can provide an important point of view, I might try to get an additional reviewer for the manuscript in question.

I try to keep the system moving as rapidly as possibly, but of course I am somewhat at the mercy of the reviewers for this. Even so, when reviewing time becomes too prolonged, I have several contingency plans: (1) I have a small group of willing "emergency reviewers" who might be able to provide a rapid review; I try not to use this group if at all possible, but they have saved the day on a number of occasions; (2) I act as a reviewer myself, if I feel qualified to comment on the manuscript's topic; or (3) If I have one thorough review in hand, I will just use that and add my own comments (not as a reviewer, but just to make note of anything I think the one reviewer missed). In some cases a delinquent review is submitted in time to be of use during the revision process. So far I have not had any situations in which a late review contained information that would have changed my editorial decision on a manuscript if I had the review earlier, but perhaps I have just been lucky.

It has been important for me to find the right balance in terms of time I spend on editing tasks and the types of editing activities that I do. At the moment, I am quite content with my editing experiences both in terms of types and the time involved. Perhaps in the future I will want to branch out to other editorial experiences, for the challenge or for variety, but right now, things are good the way they are.

I have also served on a search committee that evaluated candidates to be editor of a journal, and this was kind of interesting because each candidate had a different combination of skills. But which was the right combination?

Some of the candidates were excellent scientists and would have added prestige to the journal, but it was clear (in some cases by their own admission) that they did not have the organizational skills or the time to do a good job. Other candidates seemed to have excellent organizational skills and editorial experience, but they were not well respected as scientists. We didn't want someone whose major qualifications were clerical skills. And other candidates had other liabilities (e.g., a candidate who had lots of editorial experience but who had been sanctioned for plagiarism). And what if someone is an excellent scientist and quite organized, but is a polarizing figure, well known for being involved in disputes that at times involved unprofessional behavior? Is that relevant to an individual's qualifications to be an editor? In fact, it probably is quite relevant.

But why be so picky? These people were interested in spending vast amounts of time for no/low pay as a professional service. Shouldn't a journal be happy just to find someone willing to do the "job"?

Fortunately, amazingly, we eventually found a person who was excellent in all respects for this particular position. I guess as long as there are people like that who have the energy, skills, and personality to succeed in the job, the system will continue to function.

I don't know what it's like in other fields, but as an editor of a journal in my field of the physical sciences, I have been impressed with the dedication and care that many reviewers take with their reviews. Therefore, despite the peer reviewing system's flaws -- and colleagues and I recently encountered a rather shocking example of one of these flaws (perhaps more on that some other time) -- my experience has shown that it is mostly a good system that involves a lot of conscientious reviewers and editors who give their time and share their expertise to make it work.

[I haven't decided yet about Monday's topic, but I have a few more things to say on the topic of being an Editor. Also, perhaps we can all share our most disturbing experiences with reviewers and editors next week, to balance out today's mostly-positive view of the peer review system. So save your stories of that sort for next week!]

Editor to Author: Drop Dead

The title is a lame attempt at referring to the famous 1975 New York Daily News headline (Ford to City: etc.) and is my way of introducing the topic of Manuscripts That Are Returned Without Review.

Some (high impact) journals do this more than others, but any journal editor can decide that a particular manuscript should not be reviewed. Typical reasons for the non-review include:

• The (high impact) journal gets so many submissions that it isn't possible to review them all, even some that are actually quite excellent papers.

• The manuscript is really bad.

• The manuscript is not bad at all but some editors lack good judgment and/or are not objective.

• The manuscript is inappropriate for the general focus area of a journal or a thematic collection within a journal.

It is disappointing when a manuscript is returned without review, but if the decision to return is rapid, the authors can regroup and make a new plan about the best publication venue for the paper. This is much better than a situation in which it takes a long time for an editor to decide that a manuscript won't even be sent out for review.

I was recently thinking about an incident involving an author who was extraordinarily irate that his manuscript was not reviewed. The editors had decided not to send the manuscript for review primarily because the manuscript was quite far outside the focus area of the journal to which it was submitted. An additional consideration was that the manuscript was a long, rambling, poorly written document that wasn't particular interesting.

Within a week of submission of the manuscript, the editors returned it without review, explained that it did not fit the general theme of the journal, and added some polite and constructive suggestions about the manuscript content and organization.

The author was extremely angry and sent a very unpleasant email. The focus of his ire was that the manuscript had not even been reviewed. This to him was a grave insult.

Would he really have been happier if the manuscript had gone through review, adding time (probably months) to the process? I suppose the author believed that reviewers would like the manuscript and therefore he felt deprived of a fair trial. The editors, however, were convinced that the manuscript would be eviscerated in review and it would be a waste of everyone's time to send it for review. And even if reviewers thought the manuscript had some intellectual merit, the manuscript still wasn't suitable for the journal to which it was submitted.

This all happened a year or more ago, but recently the editors got another long, irate email from the Angry Author, informing them that another journal had accepted his paper and, for their information, this other journal, of which he is an editor, has a higher impact factor in its category than the crummy journal that didn't even review his manuscript has in its (different) category. He mentioned again his anger that his manuscript was not even reviewed.

There are several conclusions one can make from the angry author's latest email:

- He has Issues. He has not moved on emotionally. He is bitter about the fact that his paper was not reviewed. Of course, he would also have been upset if the paper had gone out to review and been rejected, but perhaps then his anger would have been more diffuse.

- For some reason, he thought it would impress the editors to tell them that he is an editor of the journal that accepted his paper. I think it is strange that he would call attention to this fact, as it made some people wonder if his role as editor was a factor in the decision of this journal to publish his paper. I hope this was not the case.

- Impact factors are interesting, but perhaps not a good way to compare journals across categories. The journal that published his paper is not particularly prestigious and is not one I read, whereas the one that rejected his paper without review is central to my field. Perhaps this is an indication of the inappropriateness of his paper's topic for the journal to which he first sent it.

The editors decided not to reply to the angry email, but if they did, perhaps they would have written something like this:

Dear Angry Author,

Congratulations on your upcoming article to be published in The Third-Tier Journal. We are glad that you and your fellow editors found a suitable place for your contribution, and are pleased that we at First-Rate Journal were able to assist you in your efforts by our timely handling of your manuscript. How fortunate for you that our decision allowed you to publish in a journal with an impact factor you apparently find impressive.

We wish you the best of luck with your scientific endeavors, as well as your anger management, maturity, and ethics issues.

Sincerely,

The Editors

Memo to anyone feeling bitter about a non-review or even a rejection: If you send a hostile email to the editors of the journal that rejected your manuscript, including detailed descriptions of how stupid and short-sighted the editors were and information about the wonderful journal that ultimately published your paper, it is possible that they will not be impressed and will not feel even a speck of regret at their decision to reject your manuscript. I certainly can't speak for all editors, but I'm guessing that this might be a likely response.

Rescind to Sender

In my role as editor, I have the ability to rescind a review that is 'inappropriate', and the definition of inappropriate is left to my discretion. I have never used this option, and have chosen to deal with the occasional inappropriate review comments in other ways.

For example, in a recent case, an otherwise acceptable review in terms of content and tone had a completely inappropriate statement that demonstrated the discomfort of the reviewer, who was from a western European country, with the government of the author's native country, which is east of western Europe. The review comment had absolutely nothing to do with the scientific content of the manuscript, and the reviewer's recommendation was bizarre. I sent the review to the manuscript authors, but mentioned in my editor's comments that the authors could disregard that particular recommendation by the reviewer.

I recently heard about a more egregious case than anything I have encountered. If I ever received such a review as an editor, I would rescind it. In this case, a reviewer, angry that the manuscript under review disagreed with some of his prior work on the topic, recommended that the manuscript be rejected and included an explicit racist comment about the first author. The editor rejected the manuscript on the basis of this review.

I'm not involved in the research and have no direct interest in the research, but I am familiar with the work in the rejected manuscript and know it to be of high quality. It is shocking that the manuscript was rejected on the basis of a review that clearly demonstrated an extreme lack of objectivity. Just as shocking is that an editor would let an explicitly racist review be sent to the authors.

This is not about political correctness. This is about being ethical. This is about being professional. This is not a marginal case in which a reviewer unfortunately chose to express himself in an awkward way. This is a disgusting case of a reviewer who was so lacking in objectivity about a perceived assault on his exalted reputation that he responded by denigrating an author's ethnicity. And he somehow felt comfortable doing so. The editor's behavior confirms that the reviewer was justified in this feeling of comfort.

I think that the peer-review system works quite well overall, but there are instances that seem to argue otherwise.

Reviewers and manuscript authors don't have many 'rights'. Authors would like to have the right to a rapid and fair review. Reviewers would like to have the right to have their comments taken seriously by authors and editors. In real life, the review process can take days to years; reviewers may or may not be as objective as they could be; authors may or may not take seriously the comments of reviewers when revising manuscripts; and editors may make decisions by flipping a coin or consulting their pet beagle.

I think that reviewers who include explicitly offensive comments about an author's race or other personal characteristics (gender, religion etc.) lose the 'right' to have their review sent to the author. This seems reasonable to me, and doesn't infringe at all on the time-honored tradition of implicitly or explicitly insulting the intelligence of the author.

Vex Ed

Last week I chatted with the editor of a science journal -- a different journal from the one for which I do some editing -- and we compared notes on the more vexing aspects of the job.

One thing we talked about was: Who are the most disgruntled people we deal with as editors?

The answer is not the most obvious one: the authors of rejected papers. No, the crankiest people -- or perhaps the people who hesitate least about sharing their anger -- are those who did a review, recommended rejection or major revisions, and then are angry when they see the paper published, or published without all of their suggested revisions accomplished.

This makes sense. Although some authors of rejected papers do indeed indicate their displeasure in a less than polite way, most do not, perhaps because they hope to publish in that same journal at some later date, or perhaps because they recognize the awesome wisdom of the Editor.

Reviewers, however, have performed a free service for a journal, and may have devoted quite a lot of time to a review. To have that review seemingly ignored can be infuriating. I have felt that way as a reviewer, though I can't imagine angrily confronting an editor about it.

My editor-colleague has experienced this angry jilted-reviewer situation a lot more than I have, and I was curious about that. He has been an editor longer than I have, and that may be the explanation. Nevertheless, I couldn't help wondering whether he ignores or disagrees with reviewer recommendations more often than I do. To go against a substantive review and recommendation to reject by a reviewer, I need to be very sure that the reviewer criticisms are unfounded or excessively negative.

It is seldom the case that highly negative reviews are without basis, although it does occur. Some reviewers hate every manuscript they review (but nevertheless provide valuable comments, so editors continue to solicit their reviews); some reviewers are less objective than one ideally hopes a reviewer will be about particular topics; and in some cases a reviewer misunderstands a manuscript (e.g. owing to poor writing by the author or careless reading by the reviewer).

In some cases, one reviewer hates a manuscript but another thinks it is excellent and fascinating. In those situations, at least one of the reviewers is going to be annoyed no matter what the final decision is. That's not what matters, though. An editor has to take every substantive review seriously, read the ms and reviews carefully, and make a decision, possibly after seeking additional reviews.

I just looked at my editorial statistics for 2007, and my acceptance rate is in line with that of a peer group of editors. There may be some vexed reviewers (and authors) out there, but for the most part I think my little corner of the peer review ecosystem is functioning in a fair and efficient way.

Editing for World Peace

Every so often (4-8 times/year), scientists at a university in a non-English-speaking country will ask me to edit the English in a manuscript that they either hope to submit for review or that has been reviewed and criticized for its poor English. I am happy to help because, in theory, this simple assistance can have a positive impact on someone’s career because publication in international journals may be essential for advancement.

As an editor/reviewer, I have struggled to understand the meaning of some manuscripts written by non-native English speakers, so I think it's a good thing for authors to seek technical editing assistance prior to submission. Furthermore, on a personal level, I benefit from the fact that the international literature is in my native language, and on a cosmic level I think that science as a whole will be the better owing to participation by more scientists, so it makes sense for me to do this simple thing to help.

Some of my colleagues think I should refuse to do this editing, as it encourages people to think of me as a glorified clerical worker. That is, if the manuscript authors really respected me as a Scientist, they wouldn't ask me to edit their manuscripts, and therefore the requests are sexist. I don’t agree with that opinion, but there is an element of truth to it. Some of those who ask me for help have been rather patronizing over the years, are not necessarily very gracious, and tend to respond to my efforts by asking me to do more for them (e.g., doing literature searches for them).

Most of these editing requests come from scientists who are not at well-equipped research institutions, and who are already facing major challenges to do the research and publish the results. At the risk of sounding patronizing myself, I am sympathetic to how difficult it must be to do research at the level required for publication in international journals at an institution that lacks major research facilities. Add to that the challenge for some of communicating in a foreign language, and there's the basis for my philosophy re. agreeing to these technical editing requests. If I can help in some way, shouldn’t I do so? Or am I perpetuating a stereotype about women as assistants who can be asked to do low-level tasks?

In this post, I am discussing the issue of technical editing of manuscripts on which I am not a coauthor, i.e. for scientists who are not research collaborators. I have international colleagues with whom I collaborate on research projects, and that is an entirely different situation.

Some of these scientists ask me to comment on both the writing and the science, but recently I got a couple of requests asking me to confine my comments to the writing. I thought that was kind of odd, but I wondered if the scientists were trying to be polite and not take up more of my time than necessary. I should say that I have never met some of these scientists, and others I don’t know well, so I figure I might as well just help them rather than figure out the motivation for this request.

In one such case I had no trouble complying with the request to confine my comments to the writing. The manuscript topic wasn’t particularly close to my field of expertise, and I zipped through it, fixing the writing. In another case, however, I couldn’t help but comment on some errors, in addition to fixing the writing. I felt that the manuscript was publishable if these errors were fixed, and not publishable without the corrections. The author wrote back to say (essentially): “Thanks for your comments on the science but I am going to ignore them all.” The manuscript was rejected, and I am curious to see what the author decides to do next.

In fact, rejection is a common fate for quite a few of these manuscripts. I said above that correcting the writing in a manuscript can, in theory, have an impact. The impact is theoretical unless the manuscript is published. In some cases there is nothing that I can do to save these manuscripts, however excellent my subject-verb agreement. If the topic is somewhere close to my research expertise, I can, in some cases, help with the content. For example, last year I edited a manuscript that clearly needed data that were easy for me to acquire but impossible for the author, owing to lack of facilities in his country; it took me only a few hours to get the data for him.

If the topic is further removed and there is no reasonable way I can help make a manuscript publishable, my editing efforts are pointless. Even so, I can’t imagine declining to help even when I’m fairly certain of the fate of the manuscript.

There is one particular scientist, whom I have never met, who requests more of my time than all the others combined. He typically includes in his request a casual mention of the fact that it is my responsibility as a scientist in a rich country to help poor, struggling scientists such as him, and that should I decline to help him, my selfish actions would seriously erode tenuous relationships between our two countries and besmirch the pure ideals of scientific collaboration.

I would prefer a simple “Will you please help me with X?”, but despite his obnoxious and manipulative attempt to extract my assistance, this colleague is right that I do have some responsibility to help. But how far can I / should I go with my help? My ability to work with international scientists (other than my collaborators) is constrained by time, funding, and the limits of my expertise. Even so, I figure that the least I can /should do is help edit some manuscripts, with an occasional foray into more substantial assistance.

Editing the Dead

A manuscript that I have been reviewing/editing was sent back to the author for revisions, the author and I corresponded about the revisions, and then recently I got an email from someone at the author's institution informing me that the author had died unexpectedly. This manuscript, if published, will therefore be the Last Paper of this scientist.

Too bad the Last Paper is kind of awful. It is also too bad that there aren't any co-authors who can fix it up and make it good.

I never met the late author, but I am familiar with his name from his publications over the years. In his correspondence with me, he was very nice and was not at all upset about the extensive revisions required for further consideration of his manuscript. In fact, he seemed quite pleased to sink his teeth into the work and improve the paper.

The deceased person's co-workers want the manuscript to be published. I doubt if they know that it isn't a good paper, and are seeking only to honor a colleague they admired.

I have never rejected a dead person's manuscript before. If the author had lived and had not revised the first version of the manuscript, I would have rejected it. The only difference between that situation and the current situation is that the author's excuse for not doing the revisions is a very good one.

Should editors lower their standards for the dead? If we do, I doubt that large numbers of people will want to take advantage of this route to getting their manuscripts published. Therefore, publishing mediocre/bad papers by dead people from time to time is unlikely to set a dangerous precedent.

My concern isn't actually with standards in this case. If I accept this not-so-great manuscript, I can 'live' with myself [apologies for insensitive word choice]. It makes me sad, though, that this scientist's Last Paper is so lousy. Would I want my Last Paper to be like this or would I want an editor to be unsentimental and reject it?

However sad it is for one's Last Paper to be awful, the alternative isn't so great either. If someone dies just before publishing an outstanding paper, they wouldn't be around to enjoy the experience of stimulating new discussions, ideas, research etc.

The publication of this manuscript seems to mean a lot to the late author's students and colleagues, and I will probably accept the manuscript after doing what I can to fix the writing without altering the content of the paper. It's disconcerting, however, to know that the author won't be checking my editing.

So, the manuscript will probably eventually be published as this author's Last Paper. I guess that's OK -- no one would judge someone's overall scientific legacy on the quality of the Last Paper. The late author had a long career and published quite a few papers, and ultimately no one will care which paper was last. I hope.

March Manuscript Madness

Yesterday I wrote about reviewer statistics for a particular journal. Another part of this journal dataset shows the number of manuscript submissions/month over the past 5 years. Submissions are very constant for 9 of the months, but there is a trough in July and a big spike in March (trailing off only slightly in April).

The summer dip in submissions is not surprising, but if you'd asked me to guess which month would have the trough, I probably would have guessed August. Instead, August has the same number of submissions as September (and October and November etc.), but July is dramatically lower.

And then there's the March spike. Perhaps these are manuscripts that are worked on over the winter holidays but are not quite finished when the new term starts and then completed by March?