Reclaiming Responsibility for Setting Standards

I am old enough to remember when we set the standards of our field. In the mid-1970s (my formative years), the editors who arranged and adjudicated peer review—and who decided the manuscripts' (and the authors') fate—were almost always the authors' peers. Both the jury (the reviewers) and the judge (the editor) were our peers. Published papers were certified because they had passed stringent standards set by editors who were practicing scientists, leaders of their fields. The most prestigious journals (which had monotone covers that sported no pictures) were those with the most rigorous standards and the most highly regarded scientist–editors. And nobody had heard of an impact factor.

But things quickly changed. Today the coin of the realm is an article published in a few select journals with alluring covers and double-digit impact factors. Students vying for the best postdoctoral placements, postdocs contending for scarce faculty positions, and faculty seeking promotion and tenure all believe that they must publish articles in a few favored journals to reach their goal. And they are not wrong: the people choosing postdocs and making appointment and promotion decisions tend to put more weight on articles published in those journals (their claims to the contrary ring hollow). This situation reaches its apogee outside of the United States, where the impact factor (measured to four significant figures!) looms large over hiring and promotion decisions.

Most of the canonized journals are run by professional editors, not by practicing scientists. The consequence is that scientists no longer play the major role in setting the standards of our field. By putting great stock in those few select journals, hiring and promotions committees have bestowed enormous power upon the professional editors, endowing them with significant influence over important decisions that have far-reaching effects on the course of science (and of our careers). We have relinquished a large amount of our responsibility to our profession. (How and why that happened would be a terrific topic of study for an historian of science.)

“But articles published in those journals are peer-reviewed,” you say. Surely they are (at least the ones that attract the attention of the professional editors). But the reviews are only part of the equation. Equally important is the synthesis of those reviews into a decision on the significance and value of the work. Is it significant enough to justify a claim to precious space in the journal and the limited attention of the readers? Anyone who has reviewed or has been reviewed knows that rendering a final decision on a manuscript often requires the wisdom of a Solomon. The jury may still consist of our peers, but too often the judges charged with ensuring a fair trial and passing a just sentence are something else.

Do professional editors possess Solomonic wisdom? Some, perhaps. But I have more confidence in an editor who has tread the same path as the authors, who wrestles every day with the unknown, who knows from hard-won experience what it takes to tell a significant story. Being a practicing scientist does not ensure wisdom, but experience—recent, relevant experience—breeds sound judgment. It seems obvious that the endorsement of a peer should carry more weight than the approval of an administrator, but the hegemony of the ordained journals results in the opposite. This situation seems surreal.

It is time to reclaim responsibility for our field. Scientists should once again be the ones that set its standards. We can do that by submitting our best work to peer-edited journals such as Genetics. Active scientists who submit their own papers to peer review will be the ones who determine if a manuscript fits the scope of the journal. Our peers will be the ones who choose reviewers, evaluate the reviewers' opinions, and decide if the manuscript merits pages in our journal. All manuscripts will receive a fair hearing. And no matter what the fate of their manuscript, authors will benefit from the peer review: our journal is known for its careful, insightful, helpful reviews. Science is well served by the peers who review and edit papers submitted to Genetics.

The editors must work hard to deserve your best manuscripts. We must achieve timely review of your submissions. We must be selective in the manuscripts that we publish, so that publication in our journal is recognized as a significant achievement. We must choose fairly and wisely. Articles published in our journal must be appealing to readers. This goes beyond appearance: we must demand that our authors write compelling stories, clearly and concisely. And we must provide a forum that is visible and widely distributed so that your best work receives the recognition it deserves and realizes the influence it promises. The peer-edited journals that do those things successfully should attract your best stories. That is my goal as Editor-in-Chief.

All of us—authors, reviewers, editors—are the stewards of our field. Let's reclaim responsibility for setting its standards.