Help, My Department Requires Graduate Students to Publish a Peer-Reviewed Paper!

A colleague recently mentioned that her department is considering whether to require graduate students to have at least one paper from their dissertation or thesis research published in a peer-reviewed journal in order to receive their degree.

This is not a new idea. Such a requirement has been implemented or is being considered in a number of graduate programs in the US and elsewhere. In some cases, the requirement is different depending on the degree. Here are a couple of examples found on university websites:

"Graduates from the M.S. and Ph.D. programs are required to publish in the archival literature of their research fields. The requirement is as follows:

• Graduation with the M.S. degree requires 1 publication in submission to a journal or conference by the time of the thesis defense.
• Graduation with the Ph.D. degree requires 1 accepted journal publication and 1 submitted journal publication (or a 2nd paper) by the time of the dissertation defense."

"The process of bearing first author responsibility during the entire publication process from submission, through reviews and resubmission, and on to final acceptance, provides unique and valuable professional training.

To ensure that all …..students have this experience, as a requirement for graduation, each ….student must have at least one first author, peer reviewed journal article published, in press, or accepted."

As you might imagine, there is quite a bit of disagreement and debate underway about such publication requirements. One of the strongest arguments against the publication requirement is that the student has no control over the publication process and is therefore unfair. On the other side of the debate is the argument that navigating the peer-review process is a fair test of an essential skill (ability to publish in scholarly journals) and, moreover, will ensure the student graduates with at least one peer-reviewed publication. Here is a blog post that summarizes views on both sides of the debate, mostly from the student's perspective.

My view is that this is not an outrageous requirement and something any graduate student should be capable of achieving. It just requires some additional planning and preparation. I base my opinion partly on my own experience as a student. When I submitted my dissertation, one of the chapters had already been published in a peer-reviewed journal and four more were almost ready to submit (and were in better shape than most manuscripts I review today); these were submitted for publication soon after I graduated. I was also co-author on several other papers that were published or submitted during this period (I was working on several additional projects not related to my dissertation).

Was it difficult to get one paper published before graduation? No. I began writing that paper as soon as I had the data in hand; it was based on a preliminary set of experiments and an exploratory field survey that turned out sufficiently well to warrant publication on its own. My plan was to have it accepted by the time I defended. My thinking at the time was that my committee would have a difficult time failing me if I had a publication in hand—in the event I performed poorly during my defense. I also figured I would have an easier time defending my work if it had already passed peer review at a good journal (it worked; I had no questions about that chapter). I gave myself enough lead time to resubmit in case the first journal rejected the paper or required substantial revisions or additional analyses. As it turned out, that paper was accepted with minor revision on the first go-around.

Would I have done anything differently had there been a publication requirement? Possibly. I might have readied a second paper for publication to increase my chances of getting at least one accepted before graduation. I would have designed several short-term experiments that could be written up before my long-term experiments were done. I also would have started writing much earlier than I did. If I were to do it again, I would begin writing as soon as I started each experiment--sketching out the introduction and writing at least the methods and then results as they came in. No one ever advised me to do this, but I wish they had.

Do I think a publication requirement is unfair to students because they have no control over the review and publishing process? Not really. I don't agree that a student (or any author, for that matter) has no control over whether their paper gets published. While it's true an author has no control over who reviews their paper, they have quite a lot of control over how their paper fairs in the review process (see list below).

What if your department has a publication requirement? Here are ten ways that a student author can exert some control over the process and increase the chances of getting a paper published by a deadline:

1. Get Your Ducks in a Row. Plan ahead to ensure plenty of time to deal with co-author foot dragging, toxic reviewers, extensive revisions, or requirements for additional analyses. Set specific deadlines to have a first draft done, a submission date, etc. Based on those dates, plan the details of your writing project. Go over this plan with your advisor and any other authors and make sure the timing works with their schedules.

2. Get a Statistical Review. Get input or advice from a statistician to ensure that the experimental design and statistical analyses are solid and that the statistical methods are written properly. If there are reviewer criticisms related to the statistics, this same person can to help counter those criticisms, if unfounded, or help you redo the analyses, if needed.

3. Get Peer Reviews. Prior to journal submission, have your manuscript read by committee members or anyone who has a lot of publishing experience to identify potential flaws in logic or writing. Follow their advice, unless there is a good reason not to. Pay particular attention to any problem mentioned by more than one person.

4. Get an Editorial Review. Consider hiring a professional editor (or ask your advisor to) to go over your manuscript, especially if you are a non-native speaker.

5. Select the Right Journal. Carefully select an appropriate journal for your work or get advice from the committee or other professors if you are not sure. Do your homework; don't just select a journal at random or because your advisor publishes there. Match the quality/novelty of your paper with the journal and its acceptance rate. Scrutinize recent papers in your target journal and try to match their writing style, length, and organization. Avoid journals with long or inconsistent review times.

6. Follow Author Instructions. Follow the journal formatting and submission instructions to the letter. This includes not only the narrative structure and bibliography, but also figures and tables. Some journals will automatically reject a paper that does not conform.

7. Write a Good Cover Letter. Submit a carefully written cover letter explaining why your work is important and why it's appropriate for that journal (don't, however, rehash all your paper's findings).

8. Suggest Reviewers. Provide a list of appropriate reviewers and any people with a conflict of interest (ask your advisor for suggestions if you are unsure).

9. Be Proactive But Professional. Contact the journal if you do not hear anything in a reasonable period of time and ask when you can expect a decision. If the paper is accepted with revision (minor or major), don't delay. Quickly make those revisions and provide a point-by-point reconciliation for the editor to show that you've made the suggested changes; if you disagree with something, explain fully why you think the change is not needed. Be professional in your response and thank the reviewers for their input, especially if the final acceptance hinges on a second round of reviews.

10. Have a Backup Plan. Be prepared for rejection and don't panic if it happens. Have a second journal pre-selected in case the first one rejects your paper and quickly turn it around (don't waste time fuming or whining to your office mates). Take the first reviewers' comments into account when revising for resubmission or you may see those criticisms again. If possible, have a second paper in the works to double your chances of publishing by your deadline.

These suggestions won't guarantee your paper gets accepted by your defense deadline but will help you stay on track and avoid some of the reasons papers get rejected.

It Is Important To Note That…And Other Unnecessary Phrases

I recently received a manuscript that was overly wordy. Throughout the paper, the author had sprinkled completely unnecessary phrases or phrases that could be expressed with a single word. For example, here is a list of phrases that can be replaced with the word "because":

-due to the fact that
-owing to the fact that
-in view of the fact that
-the reason why is that

This particular manuscript was unusually encumbered with these and other annoying phrases (it is important to note that, it is of interest to the reader that, it is indeed of significance that). I pointed out a few of these overblown phrases and explained why the author might want to eliminate them (and perhaps be on the alert for them in future writings). Inexperienced writers often are unaware that wordiness is not a virtue. They repeat the important-sounding phrases they've read in other papers. Unfortunately, they add nothing to the paper, except length. In other cases, I suspect that it is simple laziness. Lazy writers know better but don't make the effort to search out and remove extraneous words—perhaps expecting others (co-authors, reviewers, editors) to do it for them. For some, flowery writing is a habit; they see nothing wrong with their pet phrases.

Sometimes I slip and use a wordy phrase when writing a first draft; however, I usually catch them during revision. Here are a few ways to help purge your writing of wordiness:

1. Make at least one thorough reading of a manuscript to look specifically for such phrases (as well as convoluted wording that could be stated more simply).

2. Some of these phrases are innocuous and easily overlooked. It takes a fresh eye to spot them. Putting the draft aside for a few days or weeks can give you some distance and make it easier to root out those obnoxious phrases.

3. If you have a habit of using certain phrases, one easy solution is to do a word search for them.

4. Read your manuscript aloud; problematic phrases and awkward sentences become more obvious.

5. How do you determine if a phrase is unnecessary? See if the sentence or paragraph is understandable without it (or with a one-word substitute).

Want more? Here's a list of 30 obnoxious phrases.

Dashed and Confused

Confused about how to use hyphens, dashes (en, em), and minus signs?

I receive lots of manuscripts to review and often see that the author has no clue about when to use a hyphen or a dash (or even that there is a difference). In a few cases, they may realize that the hyphen (-) is too short to use in a place where the en (–) or em (—) dash is required and attempt to recreate it by using two hyphens (--).

There are lots of arcane rules for using these symbols in particular situations, but here's a brief overview that generally holds for most uses.

Hyphen (-): use to join words (e.g., in a compound modifier), with certain prefixes, or to separate syllables of a word (e.g, in a line break). Sea-level rise, how-to book, un-American, science com-
munication. Note that compound phrases require a hyphen only when they precede the noun they modify—not when they follow: "The well-known researcher..." vs. "The researcher is well known."

The hyphen key is located on the keyboard between the 0 and = keys.

Minus sign (−): use to indicate a mathematical operation (subtraction). The minus symbol is longer than a hyphen and similar in length and height to the plus and equals sign symbols.

In word processing programs, you can find the minus sign in the symbol browser.

En dash (–): use to indicate a range of values or in certain word combinations. 5–10 meters, pp. 51–65, Houston–Dallas route, Comet Hale–Bopp.

The en dash is created on a Mac by holding down the option key and pressing the hyphen key. On a PC, you can can create it by holding down the ALT key and typing 0150 on the numeric keyboard. Also found in the symbol library in MS Word.

Em dash (—): use to set off or emphasize a strong break in thought in a sentence. "We all piled into the car—not stopping to worry about our wet clothes—and drove straight back to the city." It's also acceptable to use the en dash in this case, but with spaces: "We all piled into the car – not stopping to worry about our wet clothes – and drove straight back to the city."

The em dash is created on a Mac using shift-option while pressing the hyphen key. On a PC, you can get it by holding down ALT and typing 0151 on a numeric keypad. You can also find it in the symbol library.

For more detailed guidance in the use of dashes and hyphens (and other interesting writing tips), see this post at The Belligerent Copywriters' Guide.

How To Write A Boring Scientific Paper

Someone sent me a link recently to a 2007 paper entitled, "How to Write Consistently Boring Literature", by Kaj Sand-Jensen (Univ. of Copenhagen). I met the author many years ago and can quite imagine him writing such a tongue-in-cheek article.

The first line of the abstract reveals his motivation for writing it: "Although scientists typically insist that their research is very exciting and adventurous when they talk to laymen and prospective students, the allure of this enthusiasm is too often lost in the predictable, stilted structure and language of their scientific publications."

The paper is divided into four sections:

How to turn a gifted writer into a boring scientist
Why are scientific publications boring?
Ten recommendations for boring scientific writing
Alternative writing style and variable outlets

The first two sections are quite short and serve to introduce the main content in the third section. Here are the ten recommendations guaranteed to make your writing dull, incomprehensible, and impersonal:

1. Avoid focus.
2. Avoid originality and personality.
3. Write l  o  n  g contributions.
4. Remove most implications and all speculations.
5. Leave out illustrations, particularly good ones.
6. Omit necessary steps of reasoning.
7. Use many abbreviations and technical terms.
8. Suppress humor and flowery language.
9. Degrade species and biology to statistical elements.
10. Quote numerous papers for self-evident statements.

I find most of these suggestions to be quite useful if your goal is to write a boring paper. Not so sure about the "flowery language". I find that boring writers are adept at producing ornate and excessively verbose narratives. Perhaps what is meant is "colorful", "entertaining", or "provocative"?

There are some additional recommendations I might add:

11. Include all data collected, no matter how irrelevant, and describe it in excruciating detail.
12. At the beginning, fail to articulate your questions, objectives, or hypotheses.
13. At the end, fail to address the questions, objectives, or hypotheses posed at the beginning.

The latter two are essential if your goal is to be incomprehensible.

In the final section, the author suggests some alternative outlets for scientists who wish to have more freedom in their writing styles: books and essays. To those suggestions, I might add: blogs.

Although the article is humorous, it has a serious message, articulated in the last line: "In an atmosphere of increasing competition among educations and scientific disciplines, I argue here that we desperately need more accessible and readable scientific contributions to attract bright new scientists and produce integrated understanding."

If you would like a good laugh (and also learn something about how to avoid being so boring in your scientific writing), you might take a look at this paper. Here's a link to it.

In the next post, I will talk about a new app and book (by Randy Olson) for communication-challenged scientists.


Image Credit: photograph by DrDoyenne; quote from the paper reviewed in this post.

Double-Blind Peer Review

Nature Geoscience recently announced they are offering the option for authors to remain anonymous to reviewers (here is a link to an editorial). Actually, both Nature Geoscience and Nature Climate Change are testing this option. The editorial that describes this new option explains that the journal's editors are convinced that this double-blind process will remove unconscious bias. In particular, the editorial states that "One of our motivations for setting up a double-blind trial is the possibility that female authors are subjected to tougher peer review than their male colleagues–a distinct possibility in view of evidence that subtle gender biases affect assessments of competence, appropriate salaries and other aspects of academic life ((Proc. Natl Acad. Sci. USA109, 16474–16479; 2012)." 

As the editorial mentions, some reviewers will attempt to guess the identity of the authors. There will be clues in the paper, no matter how careful the author is. A few reviewers will be certain they have guessed correctly (even though they likely will be flat wrong). To what extent this guessing will influence the review, is not clear. Hopefully, most reviewers will simply shrug and focus on the paper's content, which is what they should be doing anyway.

Coincidentally, I just completed a double-blind review (my first) a few days ago for a different journal. Interestingly, the journal did not explain that the paper's authors would not be revealed to me. Instead, I was provided the usual links to the paper, which contained no mention of the authors or their affiliation. Not finding that information anywhere, I finally realized that this was a double-blind review.

Did not knowing the author's identity affect how I conducted the review? Not really. In fact, I liked not knowing who the author was quite a bit more than I expected. I wonder if other reviewers will feel the same way?

Grandiloquent Erudite Vernacular

I've mentioned in previous posts how the best authors use simple language to convey their ideas...as opposed to verbose, pretentious wording designed to sound impressive.  I've had many a distressing discussion with certain students and postdocs who insisted that their abstruse writing, sprinkled with many multiple-syllable words, was superior to a more straightforward approach using simpler language.  I always argued that they were not fooling anyone and were likely annoying and confusing the reader (and journal editors and reviewers) with their convoluted constructions.  I knew that I was annoyed.

I came across an article containing evidence that stating familiar ideas in pretentious language is viewed as a sign of low intelligence and is less credible than a simpler message.  The article, authored by Danny Openheimer, is entitled: "Consequences of Erudite Vernacular Utilized Irrespective of Necessity: Problems with Using Long Words Needlessly".  The paper (seen here) starts out by quoting from Strunk and White to "omit needless words" and Daryl Bem's guidelines for a psychology journal submission that "the first step towards clarity is writing simply".  The paper by Openheimer describes a series of experiments in which the complexity of the text is manipulated, and the readers' impression of the author's intelligence is assessed.  There was a negative relationship between text complexity and judged intelligence, even when various factors were controlled.  The conclusion was that the more simply and clearly you write, the more intelligent you are judged to be.

Two-thirds of 110 undergraduates answered yes to the question, ‘When you write an essay, do you turn to the thesaurus to choose words that are more complex to give the impression that the content is more valid or intelligent?’ This behavior is apparently a reflection of the widespread myth (at least among students) that using more complicated words in their writing will make their essays sound more credible.  And I can attest that this idea is very difficult to eradicate once entrenched in the student's mind.  This paper, however, might help to counter this myth so that students are more receptive to their adviser's suggestion that clarity, brevity, and simplicity are what a writer should be striving for.

Having worked in the Federal government, I've probably seen more than the usual amount of convoluted writing.  There are a bunch of amusing examples of before and after government writing at PlainLanguage.gov.  Here's one example, which won the No Gobbledygook Award:

BEFORE:

"Section 301-2.5(b) Indirect-route or interrupted travel.

When a person for his/her own convenience travels by an indirect route or interrupts travel by a direct route, the extra expenses shall be borne by him/her. Reimbursement for expenses shall be based only on such charges as would have been incurred by a usually traveled route. An employee may not use contract airline/rail passenger service provided under contract with the General Services Administration (see part 301-15, subpart B, or this chapter) for that portion of travel by an indirect route which is for personal convenience. Additionally, an employee may not use a U.S. Government Transportation Request (GTR) (see section 301-10.2 of this chapter) or a contractor-issued charge card (see part 301-15, subpart C, of this chapter) for procurement of commercial carrier transportation services for that portion of travel by an indirect route which is for personal convenience. An employee may, however, use contract airline/rail passenger service, as well as a GTR or contractor-issued charge card, for portions of travel that are authorized to be performed at Government expense. (See section 301-11.5(a) of this chapter regarding reimbursement claims for travel that involves an indirect route.)"

AFTER:

"Section 301.10.8 What is my liability if, for personal convenience, I travel or use an indirect route?

If you travel on government business by anything other than the most direct, least cost route available, you must pay for the added costs so the taxpayers don't."

Now if we can only convince science students that simple is better.....  Maybe we need a similar contest to the No Gobbledygook Award for improved science writing?

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.  

Self-Plagiarism

Is self-plagiarism possible?

Let's first define what this is. Basically, it refers to the reuse of significant portions of one's own work, with identical or nearly identical wording or formatting and without citing the original work or otherwise revealing that you are repeating something previously published.

I think the term self-plagiarism is confusing and potentially inaccurate since plagiarism is generally defined as the presentation of someone else's words or ideas as your own.  Based on this definition, it seems impossible to plagiarize oneself.  However, if the definition of plagiarism includes the presentation of words or ideas as new and original, then cutting and pasting from your previously published work without attribution might be considered plagiarism.

Whatever it's called, some ethicists seem to consider reuse of previously published material to be dishonest.  However, there are some gray areas.

Duplicate publications are clearly fraudulent, but what about reusing short descriptions...of methods, for example?  Many of us use the same techniques in multiple studies, and there are only so many ways one can describe these procedures.  How different should each version be?  Earlier in my career, it never occurred to me that reusing a short description of a method was wrong.  I'm sure I've stated some variation on this sentence in many papers: "Data were transformed where necessary to meet assumptions of statistical tests."  Is that self-plagiarism?  Or is it simply more efficient to reuse a standard description?  What about several sentences or a paragraph describing a specific sequence of steps in a protocol?  Again, there are only so many ways one can reword such descriptions without producing a longer and more abstruse narrative.

What I now do is to write methods descriptions from scratch, envisioning each step but without referring to previous written descriptions.  Unfortunately, what happens is that I will often unconsciously repeat what I've previously written...in some cases, almost verbatim.  When that happens, I will deliberately rephrase the new version so that it is different from earlier publications.  Another solution is to describe the method in detail in the original paper and then cite that paper in succeeding articles in which you provide a much briefer summary.  

Another situation is the review paper.  Some authors freely extract summaries and other sections of their published work and combine them into a review article.  Along with text, figures and tables from earlier work may be included in the review.  I know some authors who would not see anything wrong with this since it is their published work they are copying.  However, ethicists would likely consider this self-plagiarism.  If, on the other hand, the review was a true synthesis with a new analysis and novel discussion of the body of work, then brief summaries (rephrased) of previous work would be necessary to lay the groundwork for the new work.

Most people recognize that recycling of published work is unethical; however, it can also be illegal if the author has signed over the copyright to a publisher.  For most scientific articles, this would be the case. This is why you should not reuse figures or tables (in their original formatting) from one of your published articles in a review paper or book, for example, unless you've gotten written permission from the original publisher. It does not matter if you created those original figures using your own data.  When you signed that copyright transfer form, you turned over the rights to those formatted components to the publisher.  The same would be true of any segments of text taken verbatim from a published article and inserted into a new paper.  Most publishers (in my experience), however, will give permission to reuse or modify a figure, photograph, or table, especially by the original author.

Bottom line...it's probably prudent to avoid reusing text from your published articles. It's easy enough to rephrase things sufficiently to avoid charges of self-plagiarism.

Solar Redux

Some time ago I read the novel, Solar, by Ian McEwan, which chronicles the shenanigans of the anti-hero, Michael Beard, a fictional Nobel Prize Laureate and all-around despicable character (although I was strangely sympathetic to his predicaments).  I wrote a comment on another blog about this novel.  If you read the post and the related comments, you'll see that there was a lot of arguing by people who had not read the novel. The discussion devolved into a back-and-forth about a description in the novel of an encounter between Beard and a feminist and his ultimate downfall by committing a blunder very reminiscent of the Larry Summers incident.

Anyway, I just came across an interview with McEwan in which he talks to Matt Ridley of The Gardian about the inspiration for the character of Beard.  I've always suspected that this character was patterned after a real scientist and Nobel Prize winner and pondered who it might be.  Apparently, I was right, although it seems that it was not a single person but a group of scientists who inspired this character.  In this interview, McEwan reveals some details about his encounter with the real people who inspired him, but understandably was not as forthcoming with specific names.

At the beginning of the interview, Ridley remarks that the novel's lead character, Beard, is corrupt and, among other indiscretions, steals an idea from someone else and predictably asks McEwan if he thinks science is corrupt.  McEwan's response is, no, that he does not believe this and then proceeds to describe a climate change conference he was invited to, one which had organized a group of 35 Nobel Laureates to speak. 

McEwan characterizes these scientists as "big beasts of the scientific jungle", "all men", "super alpha males", "men of a certain age" (meaning that they were past their prime).  McEwan was invited to give a speech, as a sort of an "after dinner mint", as he wittily describes his experience.  He colorfully describes the scene as being analogous to a watering hole in Botswana...here comes an elephant or rhinoceros or some other majestic animal...the huge egos...men who had control of big institutions and budgets, but who had not done any significant research since their twenties. He was then struck with the idea of writing about a character who was like this...a scientist who was "living in his own shadow".  Great idea and one I think worked well in this novel.

McEwan goes on to say that he could not help but think about these men (the non-fictional ones) and the later climate change summit he attended in Copenhagen. He characterized this as an international gathering of supposedly rational minds in collision with what are clearly enormous egos.  He attributes the failures of this summit, at least in part, to the ego-driven behavior of such alpha male types.  While at this summit, McEwan received the proofs of his novel and decided to add a scene in which Michael Beard is invited to speak at Copenhagen because the character would love to speak in front of such a gathering of international power players.

The author suggests that climate change poses a unique challenge for which humans must bring all their intelligence and creativity to bear, but fail because of other aspects of their nature.  This dichotomy is encapsulated in the novel. I think this is an important point to understand about the novel and the need to create a character like Beard, as opposed to a hero(ine) of science.  The latter would not only have made for a very boring novel, it would not have allowed the exploration of how the egos of these alpha males roaming the jungle of science are impacting society and society's ability to deal with major problems.

Image Credit: NASA

Beyond Strunk and White

We've been considering sentences and how to write them.

I mentioned in the first post in this series, the book by Stanley Fish called How to Write a Sentence.  He writes initially about how grammar books (e.g., Strunk and White) focus on form, but on aspects of form that are detached from the underlying form that must already be in place before one begins worrying about grammar and punctuation. Such books assume that the writer already has the skill to write a well-constructed sentence, to be able to express a complete thought with a subject and predicate, and to link thoughts together coherently in a sentence.  They consequently focus on the technical aspects of grammar and punctuation, especially on those rules that people find difficult to remember and apply. There's nothing wrong with this approach--it is indispensable information, which writers need to be successful. What Fish means is that grammar books skip over a very important aspect of writing, which is how to organize one's thoughts in a logical manner and to do so within the space of a single sentence. The latter is what Fish's book attempts to address.

Fish's point is important because without a basic understanding of how to express one's ideas in a logical manner and in a way that captures the reader's attention, the ability to correctly punctuate is not very important (except to pass a test perhaps). Another point he makes and that also occurred to me as I was reading is that the emphasis on grammar and punctuation partly underlies people's fear of writing. Novice writers can become completely frozen at the thought of making a technical error that will be embarrassing. Worse, a writer's ability to freely express themselves is often blocked by the desire to write a perfect sentence (without technical errors) at the first go. I've talked about writing and writer's block previously and ways to overcome it. Perfectionism can underlie some of these writing difficulties, and an emphasis on technical errors can exacerbate them.  Perfectionism (and fear of making a technical error) was definitely part of my problem when I first began to write.  However, looking back on it, I now think that it was also a lack of understanding of how to construct a sentence in a way that expressed my thoughts clearly and unambiguously.

Fish points out that with practice, a writer develops a grammatical "sixth sense", which enables her to sense that something is wrong with a sentence and then to identify it and correct it.  The latter can occur during revision of the writing so as to not interfere with the natural flow of ideas during the act of writing the first draft. Such an ability only comes with practice...lots of it. Once acquired, however, the writer is free to write without worrying over every little grammatical detail, which can be reviewed and corrected later during revision.  Of course, experienced writers are able to express their ideas freely while simultaneously making corrections to the grammar and punctuation without blocking the flow of writing. These technical aspects become so ingrained that they are applied to the writing with little thought or consideration. For the novice writer, however, it's best to get the ideas down on paper first and later revise to correct grammar and punctuation. I would argue that it's much more important to get your idea across than to write a perfectly punctuated sentence. There are plenty of examples in literature of fantastic sentences that take your breath away, but that are not punctuated properly, according to Strunk and White.

But back to the point about the underlying form of a sentence.  Fish describes an exercise that helps a writer understand sentence form and to practice writing complex sentences.  The exercise involves taking a simple, three-word sentence such as, "Mary looked out." and expanding it to form first a fifteen word sentence and then to a sentence of thirty or more words.  Here is an example, using this short sentence as a base:

In the middle of her presentation to a standing-room-only audience of top scientists from around the world, Mary, a young post-doctoral researcher, nervously looked out at her mentor sitting in the front row, who had pioneered the topic of her research and had won a Nobel Prize for it and who typically conveyed an intimidating image to anyone facing him, especially in a forum where the speaker could be subjected to public humiliation in front of colleagues, and saw that he was nodding appreciatively at her delivery and content, an action that boosted her confidence enormously and that she later would remember and cherish as she faced more challenging and unfriendly spectators.

Okay, this isn't a literary gem, but it illustrates how the exercise works. I could have written an infinite number of variations on this theme using "Mary looked out." as the basis.  I wrote this 112-word sentence spontaneously, with very little thought initially as to what it would describe.  The sentence seemed to take on a life of its own as I began to imagine Mary standing in front of an audience (a choice I made after contemplating what Mary might be looking at). I found this exercise to be quite enlightening and fun to conduct.  What you begin to recognize in conducting such exercises is how a single sentence can tell a complex and interesting story.  The sentence I wrote conveys a huge amount of information about Mary and her apparent relationship with her mentor, even projecting Mary's experience and feelings far into the future (see previous post about time-traveling sentences).

The point is not to develop a writing style that involves long, convoluted sentences, but to develop a sense of how relationships among words give sense and coherence even to lengthy sentences such as this one.  The exercise promotes an ease with which a writer can convey complex ideas and thoughts in a logical and clear manner....a skill that is quite useful for technical science writing.

Give this exercise a try and see for yourself.

Blast from the Past

I just watched the new HBO documentary about Fran Lebowitz by Martin Scorsese.

For those of you who are thinking, "Who's Fran Lebowitz?", here's a short bio.  Lebowitz is a New York intellectual who is best known for her witty, sardonic commentary about American life.  She's a 60 year old Jewish lesbian who got her start writing for Andy Warhol (the magazine, Interview) back in the 60s.  Although she published two successful books in the late 70s/early 80s, she's since suffered from writer's block and has only produced short pieces for magazines (she's a contributing editor at Vanity Fair).  She refers to her problem as a "writer's blockade" due to its severity.  In the documentary, she says that her blockade was in many ways like the Vietnam War.  Her block lasted for years (like the war), and she doesn't know how she got into it or how to get out of it.

To make a living, she gives lectures at colleges around the country.  The documentary has several clips from these lectures as well as a lengthy, unscripted interview with her at her favorite hang-out in New York.  After one university lecture, a (very young) student asks her if she agrees with how she is often characterized as a modern-day Dorothy Parker and if so, is Parker someone she strives to emulate?  She replies that, first, she's heartened by the fact that someone so young has even heard of Dorothy Parker and second, that she's happy to be considered a modern-day "anything". She says she's not big on, like, emulating. 

She's asked by the interviewer if she believes in luck.  Her answer is yes and that one of the biggest pieces of luck is gender.  She says, "Here's what a big piece of luck it [gender] is. Any white, gentile, straight man who is not president of the United States.... failed."

At a lecture, she's asked what are the innate differences between men and women.  Her answer is, without a moment's hesitation, "testosterone". She points out that testosterone is not "learned".  If it were, we could study up on it.  She says that testosterone "gives people, men, who have it, an advantage. Because it is what makes men aggressive." Men don't want others (women) to have power because then they (men) have to give up their power, and they don't want to.  She goes on to talk about how having babies puts women at a disadvantage.  Her point is that women become fascinated with their babies to the detriment of their careers. On the other hand, babies don't hold a similar fascination for men, so the impact on them is different. She claims that modern men who are heavily involved in child care are just following a fad; that it's not biological.

I imagine many people would disagree with Lebowitz on these (and other) points, but her objective is to shock people out of their comfort zone and make them examine their beliefs.

The interviews and other bits with Lebowitz are intercut in the documentary with clips of James Baldwin, William F. Buckley, Truman Capote, Gore Vidal, Toni Morrison and other writers/intellectuals of the day (there's one clip in which Vidal calls Buckley a "crypto-Nazi").  There's also a short clip of Lebowitz in an acting role as Judge Janice Goldberg on the TV show, Law and Order.  I mention this because I used to watch Law and Order and remember the character, but never recognized Lebowitz.

Anyway, the documentary is entertaining.  Lebowitz is an interesting character.  She seems totally comfortable and confident in front of an audience.  She loves to talk--the more people listening, the better.  I saw little difference between her speaking her mind to one or two people vs. hundreds of people.  She is a master at one-liners and scathing comebacks.  Once, she was heckled by a frat boy at a lecture in New Orleans.  Her hair had gotten frizzy from the humidity, and the guy yelled out, "Who does your hair?" She shot back, "Why, do you want to meet him?".  

The title of the documentary is "Public Speaking".  You can see a trailer here.


Image Credit: Image modified from a portrait photo by Christopher Felver (for more of his portraits and art, see http://www.chrisfelver.com/portraits/writers2.html)

Don't Tell Anyone I Gave This To You

In a previous post, I described an ethical dilemma, one that probably occurs fairly frequently. I've encountered variations of it during my career.  A full description of this dilemma along with an expert opinion can be found here.  The following is my modified version that is similar to one of my experiences:

Cynthia is an ambitious post-doc having a problem with one of her laboratory techniques--extracting an enzyme from plant tissue containing lots of phenolic compounds (which bind proteins).  She's been trying for weeks to resolve this, but has been unsuccessful.  She is at her wit's end and finally goes to her PI to ask for help.  After listening to her tale of woe, he tells Cynthia not to worry--that he'll have a solution for her tomorrow.  The next day, she finds a manuscript on her desk with a note from the PI.  It says, "Check out the methods section...it has the solution to your problem.  However, don't make a copy of this or give it to anyone else.  Also, don't tell anyone that I gave this to you." She tries the method described in the paper and lo and behold, it works! When she excitedly reports this to her PI, she says, "I've scoured the literature and can find no mention of this technique.  Where did you get this paper?" The PI smiles mysteriously and says, "I've got dozens of them in my files."

I asked if the PI's actions were unethical.  The answer is, it depends.  Here is a summary of the expert's opinion (see the link above for the full version):

The moral dilemma hinges on the source of the paper.  Was it one of the PI's old, unpublished papers? One of his student's unpublished papers? Or was it a manuscript he got for review?

1. If the paper was written by the PI (and based on work done in his lab), then the PI is free to give the information and data to the post-doc to use.

2.  What may be less clear is why the former student's paper might also be given by the PI to the post-doc.  In this example, the student never published the paper and has left the university.  The post-doc can be given access to the contents because the PI's university likely owns the student's work as intellectual property.  According to the expert, the only way the student can claim the work is if s/he had previously gotten university permission to copyright the material.  Contrary to what many people think, the work conducted by a researcher (including their ideas) at an organization such as a university becomes the intellectual property of that organization.  In this case, the former student had no such copyright, so the PI, acting as the university's representative, has the authority to give the post-doc access to the contents of the paper.  It would be appropriate to contact the student to notify them that their unpublished information is to be used--and then cite them as the source in the acknowledgments section.  Unless the student makes a substantial contribution to the writing of the paper and a major intellectual contribution to the current work, then it is not appropriate to make them an author (the post-doc and the PI could potentially offer this option to the former student).

3. If the paper is one that the PI received for review, then giving it to the post-doc without the permission of the journal or the author is unethical.  The PI may be conflicted over his desire to help his stressed-out post-doc--and this may take precedence in his decision.  However, doing so is a breach of the confidentiality agreement that he entered into in accepting the role of reviewer.  In other words, the confidentiality agreement takes precedence over the PI's "moral" obligation to help the post-doc.  Furthermore, the PI is not exercising good judgment about how they will eventually use the information in their own publication and how to acknowledge the source of the information.  Giving the paper and the method to the post-doc may solve her immediate problem, but has created an even bigger problem for her in the future.  Unauthorized use of intellectual property obtained by privileged communication (review process) in another paper or proposal is plagiarism.  If they publish based on this method, they would be representing these ideas as their own, but which were taken from someone else's work.  If caught, both the PI and the post-doc could be subject to severe sanctions.

The expert opinion goes on to point out the likelihood that the plagiarism will be uncovered eventually.  If you think about it, any future paper by this PI and post-doc containing the plagiarized material will likely be read by the author of the original paper.  The author and the PI clearly work in the same specialized field, which is why the PI got the paper for review.  Isn't it just as likely that the author will get the PI's future paper for review?  In any case, the author will eventually see it when it is published.  This outcome is especially likely in a highly specialized field in which there are few experts.

My take on this scenario is that it is probably more common than you think.  I'm aware of colleagues who pass around papers they are reviewing or discuss the contents with others.  When confronted, they may admit they shouldn't do it, but then act as if it is nothing of great consequence.  Some pass on papers to students or post-docs (e.g., as exercises).  They may remove the author's name and affiliation, but the content of the manuscript is still confidential and should not be shown to anyone else or copied.  What if your student copies something from that paper without your knowledge, and it eventually ends up in a proposal or paper--where it is later recognized by the original author?

Sometimes you hear about reviewers asking journals for permission to have their post-doc or students review a manuscript (or maybe even do so without asking).  I don't think this is a good idea either.  If you don't have time to do a review, then decline and provide a list of people to substitute for you (you can suggest your post-doc); then, the journal can decide if your recommendation is a suitable reviewer, and the review will occur without your direct involvement.

The ethical situation described above and the hypothetical actions of the PI (#3) illustrate how easy it is for someone to get into deep trouble if they fail to take the time to consider the consequences of their actions.  I can easily imagine a PI who might make such a decision hastily and/or without thinking--but with no real malicious intent to injure the author.  However, such a decision commits at least two ethical transgressions--passing along confidential information without permission and putting another person into a tenuous and potentially liable situation (plagiarism would be the third, if they take the final step and publish).  The PI's moral obligation to "help" his post-doc clouds the larger ethical issues, and in the end, his action could instead seriously harm his post-doc's reputation and career.

Perhaps you have done something similar to this--we all make mistakes at some point, especially when we are inexperienced or under pressure.  Most people, though, would likely have a nagging feeling in their gut that such an action is wrong.  If you have this feeling about something you are facing or that someone else is telling you, pay attention.  Your gut is probably right.

Image Credit (modified from http://www.uwo.ca/nca/education/images/student_3.jpg)

Constructive Criticism II

This post is the second in a series about criticism—how we evolve in our reactions to it and how we deal with it. Note that the suggested categories (and examples) are very general and not necessarily rigid. A post-doc might react to criticism as would someone more mature; conversely, a late-career scientist may still react to criticism as a student would.

I quizzed my spouse (who was always ahead of his peers in terms of maturity) about how he reacted to criticism as a student, and here is his response. He said that he automatically assumed that his advisor, other professors, even technical staff had many more years of experience than he did. He also believed that their criticism was always given to help him improve. Note that up to this point in his life, he had never encountered a truly nasty person and assumed the best in others (he still does, which actually works for him…maybe a topic for another post). Consequently, he invariably followed the suggestions of critics. He says he can’t recall any time that he strongly disagreed with any of them. I should point out that he was a very confident student…not at all a doormat. He simply was mature enough to accept criticism and smart enough to know that someone with 30+ years of experience might know a thing or two. I was in the same department, so I know his professors—all caring and honest people who tried hard to help students. Such is not likely the case everywhere, I realize.

My previous post focused on the less mature of us (me included) who progressed more or less in an average and predictable way. I also wanted to emphasize the negative outcomes of being either too sensitive to criticism or too resistant. Those who’ve matured early (like my husband) don’t need much help, in contrast to those who are resistant to criticism. Hence, my emphasis on cautionary tales.

So, kudos to those students and post-docs who have developed (early) a mature view of criticism. You are already at the next stage:

Mid-Career (asst. prof., new PI)

In this stage of maturation, the scientist has mostly moved beyond knee-jerk reactions to criticism, although there are occasional regressions, e.g., when a critic says something particularly bone-headed. During this phase, one listens carefully to the comments of others and distinguishes between the good, the bad, and the ugly.

Depending perhaps partly on personality and partly on early-career experiences, the mid-career scientist may begrudgingly accept criticism, but not like it very much. Others, particularly women, may still suffer self-doubts upon receiving criticism, whereas men may shrug off negative comments rather more quickly. A few begin to truly appreciate a thorough review that asks difficult questions and makes the author tighten up the logic or supply a better justification for a particular statement.

In terms of responses to criticism, the maturing author is diligent in responding to each and every critical comment—either making the suggested correction or calmly explaining why they disagree with the critic. This reaction is particularly important in responding to reviewer comments on a manuscript submitted to a journal. A good way to annoy a reviewer (who will be asked to do a second review of your paper) and the editor, is to fail to provide a thoughtful response to all previous comments and suggestions. A point-by-point reconciliation, explaining what you did in your revision and why, is greatly appreciated by reviewers and editors who must otherwise struggle to figure out whether you dealt effectively with their criticisms.

I know it’s sometimes difficult to remain detached when dealing with really idiotic comments that clearly indicate the reviewer either didn’t read your paper carefully or is simply out-to-lunch. But learning to become detached, taking the criticism less personally, and responding without undue emotion is what distinguishes the maturing scientist. At least on paper. It’s perfectly OK (in my opinion) to rail to your best friend, trusted colleague, or spouse about the awful review you just received and how unfair some of the comments were. You can even write out your immediate reactions to get it out of your system. But then you must step back, take some time away from it, and let yourself get some perspective on the critique. Perhaps first deal with the minor comments or those that you find useful. Let the ones that really get under your skin percolate a bit in your head (even if you are not thinking about them consciously, your subconscious is working on them). When you can contemplate the really negative comments without your blood pressure going up, then you are ready to address them.

Of course, it’s during this phase that you become a critic yourself, being tapped to carry out peer reviews and to serve on editorial boards. This experience accelerates the maturing process, as you might expect. You begin to see what kind of effort it takes to do a thorough review and to appreciate the time your colleagues have spent reviewing your work. You also see that associate editors have a difficult job (also unpaid) in persuading scientists to do reviews and to deal with author’s fragile egos.

What type of critic you become is likely influenced by how you have been treated as an author. You may decide to dish out the same negative stuff that you’ve received in the past, or conversely, commit to treating others with the respect and fairness you’ve failed to receive. Most scientists, fortunately, focus on providing constructive criticism and avoid personal attacks, either voluntarily or in response to journal admonishments to do so. A few become harsh reviewers, never finding anything of value in any manuscript that falls on their desks. Others are too easy, never finding any fault with any manuscript. You begin to realize that both these extremes are not helpful to you as an author.

In this mid-career stage, I think most scientists tend to accept all requests for reviews and then spend a lot of time on them, providing pages of comments. I have no statistics to back this up—just my impression from talking with others. My limited poll also suggests that women are more likely to fall into this behavioral category than men. I won’t speculate on why…. it’s probably for a lot of different reasons.

Personally, I never turned down a review request during this stage and felt obligated to put a great effort into doing a thorough and fair review. Doing a lot of reviews in the early to mid-career stages is profitable because you learn a great deal about writing, about good (and bad) science, about what journals want, and how to improve your own weaknesses. I provided some detailed reasons for being a reviewer at another blog (FemaleScienceProfessor), reproduced here:

1. You learn a lot about writing (e.g., in terms of technical proficiency and personal “style” or “voice”) and what it takes to get published. You learn as much from reviewing poor papers (what not to do) as from excellent papers (what distinguishes them from the pack).

2. You learn what the standards are (in general and for specific journals) and what specific criteria are used by reviewers and editors.

3. The more journals you review for, the better you understand what subject matter is being sought (and you are less likely to commit the error of submitting inappropriate material to a journal).

4. You become known to editors, especially if you are a consistently good reviewer. Editors then tend to go out of their way to handle future submissions of your own work personally and ensure that they are evaluated fairly and quickly.

5. As you become known as a fair and thorough reviewer to editors, you are in a better position to challenge a negative review of your own work

This has already become a longer post than I originally intended, so I’ll stop here and reserve further musings for the next post.

Constructive Criticism I

Criticism of one's work is very hard to take.  Your dissertation or manuscript represents your best efforts--blood, sweat, and tears.  To see it shredded by another is embarrassing and depressing.  However, as scientists and authors we must learn to accept and deal with criticism, constructive or not.  Everyone goes through a maturation process in this regard.  So I thought it would be interesting to describe the various stages through which a scientist evolves (or may evolve--some get stuck at an early stage for their entire careers).

The next series of essays is based mostly on my own and colleagues' experiences--our reactions to criticism as well as reactions of others to our criticism (i.e., essentially anecdotal and not necessarily representative of all scientists).

Today's post focuses on the first of three stages in dealing with criticism:

Early Career (e.g., student and post-doc)

This stage is typically characterized by extreme sensitivity to criticism. Novices may be dismayed and become extremely discouraged when faced with the news that their work is not acceptable.  People at this stage of development sometimes view critical remarks as personal attacks--they assume that the people who are criticizing their work and their writing are trying to "put down" or "hold back" the budding scientist and author.  Another belief is that the critic is jealous and is being over-zealous as a consequence.  Novices sometimes believe that their writing is just fine, if not brilliant, and look upon suggestions for improvement with a sense of disbelief or disgust.  They may balk at making suggested changes and strive to ignore editorial suggestions.

The novice author is reluctant to amputate any verbiage, extraneous or not, because every sentence reflects great effort--not unlike passing kidney stones. The writing also may be sprinkled with numerous citations, but many of them do not actually support the point being made--the novice having failed to check the original citations and is simply repeating what has been said by others. A table may add little to the paper and will take up valuable journal space, but the novice writer is loathe to remove it because it represents numerous, tedious measurements and shows how hard they worked.  Figures fail to effectively depict the data in a way that conveys the essence of the main research findings (e.g., there is no distinction made between the most important results and the merely ancillary data).  However, the novice balks at removing incidental figures for the same reason stated previously for tables.  Finally, the novice author has worked very hard to write dense, convoluted sentences that can only be comprehended with repeated readings--in the belief that this writing style conveys sophisticated mastery of the topic.

Unfortunately, the inexperienced writer is often resistant at this stage to recommendations and wishes to avoid the idea that their best efforts are not good enough.  By ignoring critical remarks, they can more easily protect their fragile egos and especially circumvent the additional work involved in revision.  Such actions are sometimes grounded in the belief that the criticisms by the adviser are frivolous and random and therefore can be justifiably ignored.  In other cases, the novice believes that the advice is based solely on a difference of opinion, and both opinions (novice and adviser) are equally valid--in which case, the novice prefers his/her own.

Little wonder that the early-career writer is reluctant to listen to suggestions for revision.

Young scientists who are in this frame of mind sometimes will return their "revised" thesis or manuscript with few or none of the suggested changes, thinking that their adviser will not notice or will forget their original criticisms. This rarely works because the adviser will identify the same or additional flaws during the second read. Novice writers invariably make the same types of mistakes, of which they are often unaware, but which jump out at an experienced reviewer or editor like slimy toads popping off the page. 

Sometimes, the budding scientist will further ignore their adviser's assessment regarding the raw, unrefined nature of their masterpiece and without permission, go ahead and submit the manuscript to a journal.  This action is typically followed by swift rejection accompanied by excoriating comments of reviewers (if it is even sent out for review).  If by some miracle the paper is accepted with major revision (the reviewers having taken pity on what is clearly a student's first paper), the novice ignores the reviewer comments and returns the manuscript to the journal with only a few minor changes, upon which the editor quickly rejects it.

In a few cases, the novice author, having graduated or found employment elsewhere, removes the adviser's name from the paper prior to journal submission in the mistaken belief that this will absolve the need to address requested changes. The manuscript is subsequently sent to the adviser for review, since she is the acknowledged expert in the field.  This unfortunate turn of events is followed by a reality check administered by both the journal editor and the adviser.

Some of the descriptions I've painted here are extreme scenarios, but are based on real events.  A few of these early career reactions have been repeated enough times to suggest a pattern among novice authors.  I think most advisers, reviewers, and editors, however, understand the mindset of novices.  We are not unsympathetic, because we've been there ourselves. However we also know that it is extremely challenging to be successful in the competitive world of scientific research.  Therefore, we know that improvement only comes with criticism--and deliberate effort on the part of the novice to address their weaknesses.

Some people pass through this stage quickly; some more slowly; and a few find themselves stuck here indefinitely.  It's up to the individual to transition to the next stage in dealing with criticism: Mid-Career (see next post).

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....

How to Improve Comprehension of Scientific Writing

The previous series of posts has focused on what features of scientific writing interfere with reader comprehension and how we can change our writing habits to better meet reader expectations.  These ideas are taken from the paper, "The Science of Scientific Writing", by Gopen and Swan (199).

In this post, I will show how Gopen and Swan revised the previous writing example to improve comprehension.  The writing principle we are considering requires that for each sentence, a backward linkage is made to "old information" and new information is positioned for contextualization forward.  The first step is to identify the new material in each sentence that should be emphasized.  I've highlighted these phrases in yellow:

Large earthquakes along a given fault segment do not occur at random intervals because it takes time to accumulate the strain energy for the rupture. The rates at which tectonic plates move and accumulate strain at their boundaries are approximately uniform. Therefore, in first approximation, one may expect that large ruptures of the same fault segment will occur at approximately constant time intervals. If subsequent main shocks have different amounts of slip across the fault, then the recurrence time may vary, and the basic idea of periodic mainshocks must be modified. For great plate boundary ruptures the length and slip often vary by a factor of 2. Along the southern segment of the San Andreas fault the recurrence interval is 145 years with variations of several decades. The smaller the standard deviation of the average recurrence interval, the more specific could be the long term prediction of a future mainshock. 

What needs to be done for each sentence is listed below:

   1. The backward-linking old information appears in the topic position.
   2. The person, thing or concept whose story it is appears in the topic position.
   3. The new, emphasis-worthy information appears in the stress position. 



Here is the revision suggested by Gopen and Swan based on the above guidelines, with the new information (in the stress position) highlighted in yellow and the old information (backward linkage) highlighted in pink:

Large earthquakes along a given fault segment do not occur at random intervals because it takes time to accumulate the strain energy for the rupture. The rates at which tectonic plates move and accumulate strain at their boundaries are roughly uniform. Therefore, nearly constant time intervals (at first approximation) would be expected between large ruptures of the same fault segment. [However?], the recurrence time may vary; the basic idea of periodic mainshocks may need to be modified if subsequent mainshocks have different amounts of slip across the fault. [Indeed?], the length and slip of great plate boundary ruptures often vary by a factor of 2. [For example?], the recurrence intervals along the southern segment of the San Andreas fault is 145 years with variations of several decades. The smaller the standard deviation of the average recurrence interval, the more specific could be the long term prediction of a future mainshock. 

So, how did you do?  Check out Isabella's version of this paragraph--I find hers easier to understand than Gopen and Swan's revision.  Her revision is written in simple, straightforward language and only needs a bit of polishing.  Here is my modification to her version:

Earthquakes occur when a certain amount of strain caused by the movement of tectonic plates has been accumulated. The rates of these movements at the boundaries of tectonic plates are roughly uniform, leading to the expectation that large earthquakes along a given fault segment occur at nearly constant and nonrandom time intervals (at first approximation), because it takes time to accumulate the strain energy for the rupture. However, if subsequent main shocks have different amounts of slip across the fault, then the recurrence time may vary, and the basic idea of periodic mainshocks must be modified.  For great plate boundary ruptures, the length and slip often vary by a factor of 2, resulting in a large standard deviation of the average recurrence interval, which leads to a less specific long-term prediction of a future mainshock. For example, along the southern segment of the San Andreas fault the recurrence interval is 145 years with variations of several decades.

Gopen and Swan state that in their experience, "the misplacement of old and new information turns out to be the No. 1 problem in American professional writing today."

The fourth principle can be stated as:

Place appropriate "old information" (material already stated in the discourse) in the topic position for linkage backward and contextualization forward. 

I find this principle the most difficult one to apply routinely to my writing because as a writer I am anxious to get my idea (the new stuff) down before I forget my brilliant thought.  Consequently, the temptation is to rush the new information and forget to provide backward linking and context for it.  However, by doing this we only address our needs, not the needs of the reader.

Writing Strategies for the Long-Run

In the previous posts, I've covered a lot of ways to improve writing productivity and to avoid writing problems.  Some of the suggested strategies are useful to get people started writing regularly (e.g., contingency management), to write unselfconsciously (e.g., spontaneous writing), and to deal with specific problems (e.g., perfectionism, procrastination).  Eventually, however, writers must develop a strategy for the long-term.

The long-term strategy will incorporate some of the short-term techniques, such as writing when fresh (early morning) or having a conducive writing space.  But what are the most important factors determining whether a writer becomes highly productive?  Based on my own experience and discussions with colleagues, the most successful, highly productive writers have three characteristics:

1. They make writing the priority in their daily work schedule.
2. They enjoy writing.
3. They continually work to improve their writing.

I certainly did not start out with these characteristics--far from it.  Initially, I put other things before writing, which was delayed until I had a block of time to write.  I found writing to be a chore, a struggle, and definitely not my idea of fun.

Writing is easy to put off when it's not a priority and is not enjoyable.  We have labwork, fieldwork, meetings, administrative tasks and email that demand our immediate attention.  We finish a research project and think, "Well, I guess I'd better start thinking about writing something up."  There follows a long period of dithering around, staring at the data, hoping that the words will magically jump from our brains onto the page, and when that does not happen we begin wishing that we could just go on collecting more data and not have to worry about authoring a brilliant exposition.  Time passes and no real writing progress occurs.  Or if it does, the result is pedestrian, unimaginative, and disjointed.

Sound familiar?

If you've been reading the previous posts, you'll know that writing should be done on a regular, daily basis.  Binge writing, particularly starting from scratch is the least efficient way of proceeding.  Better to write in small increments and to start writing early--not at the end of the study.  By developing the habit of daily writing--even for short periods, a scientist can become much more productive than one who only writes in jags.

As I progressed through my career, I went from avoiding writing to writing in binges--essentially waiting until I had all data in hand to begin writing.  It was easy to procrastinate because there was always something else that needed my attention.  Now, however, I put writing tasks at the top of my list.  What this means is that every day I'm in the office, my goal is to write.  Everything else is an interruption to the writing.  If I have to stop and go over something with a staff member or deal with an administrative issue, it is only an interlude in the writing.  As soon as I finish the other task, I go back immediately to the writing.  Writing is my default position.

Of course, some days I only manage 30 minutes or an hour of writing.  I always have several writing projects underway, and I try to keep them all moving forward.  When I only have brief snatches of time, I try to get a few paragraphs or a page done on the newer writing projects.  Days that I have longer blocks of time are devoted to the papers that are closer to completion.  Once I have a rough draft of all main segments (Introduction through Discussion), I focus completely on that paper until it's finished and submitted.  If a paper is accepted, I drop everything to do the revision (a bird in the hand...).   That is what I did today--revised an accepted manuscript with minor revision. 

The second factor--to enjoy, even love writing--is a bit more difficult to accomplish.  For most people, this comes with time and experience, but only if writing problems are consciously avoided.  I tend to think about writing experts as being similar to skillful musicians or dancers.  The people who are at the top of their field are so good that they make it look easy.  But the key to loving what you do--playing music, dancing, or writing--is to reach that stage where you can relax and have fun with it.  Some estimates suggest that to become an expert at something, you have to spend about 20,000 hours practicing.  That's about ten years--the same amount of time one spends in graduate and post-doctoral work.  So if one focuses on writing skills early, beginning in graduate school (or earlier), it's possible to be an expert by the time that first job comes along.

The third factor is that excellent writers constantly work to improve their skills.  They never rest on their laurels and think, "Now that I'm an expert, I have nothing else to learn." I read about writing, study other writers' work, try new writing approaches, and think a lot about writing.  This may be too much of a good thing for some people, but people who love to write pay a lot of attention to improvement.  And this effort pays off.

In coming posts, I'll try to talk about some specific techniques to improve technical (science) writing.