Thoughts about Co-Authorship

It's Sunday, and I've spent the week finishing revisions of a couple of papers.  I'm lead author on one paper and about fifth on a multi-author paper.  Over the years, I've noticed that some co-authors make more of a contribution to writing and revising a paper than others. However, most co-authors (at least in my experience) leave most of the writing up to the lead author and usually make only limited edits to the various versions sent around for everyone's input.

Is this a good or bad thing?

First, I should say that I'm one of those co-authors who contribute to the writing regardless of my author position and at least try to do a thorough edit to catch misspellings, grammatical and punctuation errors, and awkward sentence constructions.  If there are issues with the content and interpretation, then I will make additional comments and suggestions for revision.  If the paper's topic is entirely within my field of expertise, I will typically go further and do some rewriting and reorganizing as well as adding relevant literature that may have been overlooked.

My thoughts are that if my name appears on the paper, then I am responsible for its content.  Many scientists, including me, collaborate with other people, some of whom may be virtual strangers (I've never personally met some co-authors).  When you don't have first-hand knowledge of someone, you then must be a bit more cautious in signing off on a manuscript.  If you were one of the project leaders and/or senior scientist in the group, then you likely will share responsibility with the lead author for the integrity of the paper.  Most journals agree with this thinking, although some distinguish between co-authors who are responsible for the entire paper and those who've made a more limited contribution.  In any case, anyone who is not willing to accept responsibility should not be an author.

Consequently, I carefully assess any drafts sent to me and question any shaky aspects. You would think that lead authors would welcome the help, and many do.  Some, however, do not like co-authors to make substantial (or sometimes even modest) revisions.  I'm talking about the common situation in which the lead author writes an initial draft of the entire paper and then sends it out to co-authors for their comments.

Where I've run into difficulty in the past is if there is a disagreement over interpretation of the data, although occasionally it's been due to a difference in "writing style".  A co-author may be a bit too exuberant or expansive in interpretation, and I think we need to be more cautious, due to limitations in the data.  It's a fine line, especially when trying for a more prestigious journal that is interested in more sensational.......I mean exciting, results.  Colleagues who are more cautious like me also say that they have similar difficulties with some co-authors.

There are also those situations in which the lead author is not a very good writer or perhaps has not put sufficient effort into the writing.  The worst-case scenario is when the lead author has done an abysmal job writing the first draft and/or has misinterpreted the data.  Worse, they think the paper is fine as is and want to submit it immediately (they just need your stamp of approval to proceed).  I've found myself in such a situation, and I can say it is not fun.

Do you:

1.  Return the paper immediately with the brief (written) message that they need to rewrite it?
2.  Have a talk with them and explain your concerns in detail?
3.  Revise it yourself and hope they are willing to compromise?
4.  Hope one of the other co-authors will do either #1, 2, or 3?
5.  Let them submit it and hope the journal reviewers/editors point out the flaws?  

There is no really painless way to handle this.  However, as I suggest above, if your name is on the paper, you have the responsibility to ensure the information is accurate and unbiased and that the writing is reasonably good...before it's submitted.  My choices have always been #2 or #3, depending on the circumstances.

As lead author, I take most of the responsibility for writing the first draft and revisions, but am grateful for any input from co-authors.  Most of my co-authors have been willing and responsive, although few have invested the kind of writing effort that I typically provide as co-author.  Exceptions are when co-authors are assigned specific sections to write, for example, in a synthesis paper.  I've had mostly good experiences with such situations, but know others who've had difficulties getting co-authors to pull their weight.  You are then faced with the choice of writing those sections yourself and whether to drop someone from the author list.

In the end, you want to collaborate with people who complement your mode of writing and meet your expectations for co-authorship.  If you've never worked together before, it helps to establish the authorship ground rules before starting a writing project.  

Going It Alone

I just finished a major writing project--a book chapter--which is why I've not been blogging lately.

I was given the option of having co-authors, since the topic was fairly broad.  I toyed with the idea of inviting several colleagues to help write sections on topics with which they were more familiar than I.  This approach--working with co-authors--is the more usual one for me.   

In the end, though, I opted to go it alone.  The main reason was that I didn't want to have to deal with asking co-authors to revise (reduce) their sections to fit into the page limit as well as with merging the inevitably different writing styles.  Then there would be the time spent sending drafts back and forth among the authors, dealing with their objections (to having their section cut down), and getting everything done by the deadline.  I weighed these reasons against the option of working alone, which would require me to become (more) familiar with some topics, and possibly taking more time.  I would also lack the feedback that co-authors could provide on the chapter as a whole.

As it turned out, I'm glad I worked alone.  I learned a lot about a number of topics, read a lot of papers I had not seen before, and enjoyed synthesizing the information. The book is aimed at undergraduate/graduate students, so authors were asked to write in a "less technical" manner and to transmit our enthusiasm for the subject.  By being the sole author, I was able to maintain the same "voice" throughout the chapter.  I was also able to organize and present the information in the way I thought best.  Once I got a good draft finished, I then had to polish and cut down the length (I was several pages over the limit).  That stage was relatively painless, since they were my words being cut out or condensed.  I could readily reduce sections that were less important or less interesting without worrying about stepping on toes. 

Although I enjoy working with other people and generally have few problems in doing so, I find that I feel less stressed when working alone and am ultimately more satisfied with the finished product.  That turned out to be the case in this situation.

I submitted the final version to the editors a few days ago and already heard back that the chapter sounded fine and that they would go ahead and send it out for review (meaning that it met their expectations for content and format).  That's a relief.

Now, on to the next writing project....

Collabo-writing

Writing collaboratively seems to come naturally to practitioners in fields that are viewed as being creative. We are all familiar with the writing teams who work for TV shows and movies. Those types of creative works are produced by two or more writers who brainstorm ideas, try out jokes on each other, or act out scenes to see what works.

Scientific writing, in contrast, is often performed alone or with coauthors inserting their text separately, in their offices, isolated from their colleagues. During graduate school, we typically go it alone—with some direction and input from an advisor (but rarely writing as a twosome). Many of us continue this tradition as we move into scientific careers, possibly under the impression that this is how it should be done. Although we may later work as part of a team of scientists to accomplish our projects, when it comes to putting the results and interpretation down on paper, we tend to work as individuals. Many scientists prefer solitary work, while others thrive on the exchange of ideas (brainstorming) and joint creation of a scientific article. Solitary behavior may be a result of male-dominated science, which has traditionally rewarded aggression, ambition, competition, and self-promotion--diametric to truly collaborative writing. Some might argue that multiple authors working separately--with one person later integrating the parts--is most efficient. But is that true or what is most desirable?

This post is about an alternative approach— “collabo-writing”, coined by three authors of a recent article in Academe: William Phillips, Charles Sweet, and Harold Blythe. These authors of “Collaborating on Writing” propose that there are numerous benefits, particularly increased productivity. Phillips et al. report that they have co-written and published more than seven hundred items, including “book and notes, traditional scholarship and commercial fiction” and attribute their productivity to collabo-writing. They offer some insight into why this approach is so effective and provide some suggestions for those interested in pursuing collaborative writing.

Some of the additional benefits Phillips et al. list for collabo-writing are: mentoring opportunities, professional development, and collegial networking. They argue (and this is my experience) that working closely with others to write an article sparks creativity and greatly increases development of new ideas. We’ve all experienced this phenomenon to some degree. I find that working with one or two other people is most stimulating, whereas interacting with larger groups is less effective. For a department or similar group, writing groups tend to increase the institution’s overall productivity. Usually, only a small percentage of a faculty is highly productive, so that having such individuals working with less productive scientists can lead to more publications overall. Junior scientists can greatly benefit from working side-by-side with a more experienced writer. For those seeking tenure (academia), permanent status (government), or partnership (consulting), help getting those first publications out can determine the course of their careers. This can also benefit the institution by promoting a collaborative, rather than competitive culture.

Another benefit, which is not always appreciated, is how collabo-writing can broaden your disciplinary knowledge through exposure to topics outside your immediate area of expertise. Brainstorming with a colleague to prepare a written document also increases your critical thinking skills and improves your ability to think on your feet.

A final benefit of collabo-writing is the opportunity to develop a professional network of colleagues. Some university faculty are actively promoting writing groups, especially among new faculty. Although typically not encouraged, developing a writing group during graduate school is a great way to get exposure to this approach—and could even lead to some pre-graduation publications and a post-graduation writing team. Jointly writing articles with fellow graduate students, e.g., for bulletins of scientific societies, for a popular magazine, or even a scientific review paper, is clearly a way to set yourself apart from the crowd.

My personal experience with true collabo-writing has been limited, but positive. Most of the writing was done jointly, with one person typing and the other dictating. These positions were switched frequently, and we periodically just sat and brainstormed or talked through an interpretation of the data. Bouncing ideas back and forth helped identify flaws or sparked interesting insights. Occasionally, we would work on something separately—preparing figures or compiling information for a table or conducting statistical analyses. But these activities were done side-by-side so that we could periodically discuss some particular point. Once there was a good draft, then one person would take the lead on finalizing the formatting and handling the correspondence with the journal. I described one of these collabo-writing efforts in a previous post.

Some Guidelines for Collabo-writing:

1. Find collaborators you respect (and trust). Starting out with your peers is probably the easiest, then try approaching someone senior whose work you admire.
2. Establish your roles early. In some cases, this may take some interaction to figure out who does what best.
3. Establish a goal and timeframe for meeting it.
4. Do some market research. For scientists, this means selecting the appropriate journal and finding out the journal requirements for length, formatting, etc.
5. Develop a “work alone-write together” rhythm. This pattern is similar to what I described above in my personal experience.
6. Deliberate practice will lead you into the flow. See previous post about what deliberate practice is.
7. Listen carefully to collaborators and take notes when they speak.
8. Seek to piggyback. Cooperation and building on others’ thoughts is preferable to trying to come up with the “best idea” of the group.
9. Subjugate your ego. Keep in mind that creating the best product is the goal, not who came up with the original idea.
10. Finish the play. Make sure someone takes the responsibility for submitting the article and seeing the publication through to the end.
11. Beware of the pitfalls. See list below:

Milestones

Someone asked me the other day if there was a difference in gender makeup of my collaborators—more male, more female, or about equal? I said that I currently have both male and female collaborators, but had never counted them up. I had a vague idea that the proportion of female collaborators had increased over time, but was not sure. So I looked at my publication record.

Less than 8 percent of my papers have been single-authored, so my publication record is dominated by co-authored papers. Most of my co-authors have been male, which I attribute to a number of factors: the colleague pool has been (and still is) male-dominated, more male than female colleagues have had substantial funding and active research programs (and the ability to collaborate), early papers were co-authored with an established male scientist (who was project leader on several grants). 41 percent of co-authored papers had at least one female co-author (colleagues, post-docs, students), and 16 percent had all female authors. 63 percent of papers published in the last ten years had female coauthors compared to 16 percent in the previous years.

Science articles with all-female authors occur, but I think are not very common. The dearth of senior female scientists in STEM fields (science, technology, engineering, math) limits the possibility of all-female research teams composed of people who are well-established and funded. Perhaps there are more female advisor-female student papers, but all female authors who are senior scientists are rarer.

I’m currently one of six female coauthors of a paper in press—a review focused on a mutual area of research. We all have different specialties (biogeochemistry, plant ecology, animal ecology, plant physiology, modeling, etc.), but work in a common wetland ecosystem. Our publication was not planned to be an all-female effort, but arose out of a jointly-funded project. As I was reading the page proofs, it hit me that this manuscript reflected not only the progress made in our field, but perhaps something more. I don’t necessarily think that this paper is evidence of progress by female scientists. It obviously reflects a number of factors, including our interwoven histories, common interests, ability to work together for many years, etc. It also reflects the fact that we’ve all managed to succeed to the point that we have our own labs, independent research programs, and the choice of who we work with.

I think the main point is that I no longer wonder about whether I can find colleagues who are interested in working with me. I have gradually built a network of female scientists that I can contact anytime—for help, advice, or collaboration. Although I’ve been lucky to find a few male collaborators along the way, my experience (with male scientists) has not been overall positive, ranging from disinterest to incredulity (that I would suggest a joint project). My impression, though, is that this attitude (toward me, at least) has changed, and more male colleagues are seeking me out. I can’t tell if this is due to enlightenment within the scientific community or to my reputation (that I’ve worked hard to build). Probably both.

I hope the younger generation of female scientists is finding it easier to be accepted by male colleagues. If not, find other women in your field (or in related fields) and cultivate your own network. A number of science societies (go here for an example) are promoting mentoring programs, which is a great way to network with established scientists as well as peers. Even if you prefer working alone, it helps tremendously to have someone to talk to who understands your situation.