They say itās the hope that kills you ā but hopefully not in this case. With three effective vaccines against Covid-19 having emerged in the past few weeks and one of them already being rolled out in the UK, it doesnāt seem too giddy a prediction that by this time next year the curve of infections and deaths will have been well and truly flattened beneath scienceās boot.
Letās put the scale of this achievement into some context. that the average time taken to develop a vaccine between 1998 and 2009 was 10.7 years. Until now, the mumps vaccine was the fastest ever produced. It took four years.
Key to scienceās ability to smash this record is an unprecedented level of collaboration and real-time data sharing, made possible by preprint servers that make manuscripts freely available without waiting for peer review. The key player in biomedicine, bioRxiv, its first coronavirus preprint on 19 January; by the lockdown in late March, it had already published 500.
Open access advocates have been quick to see this as another brick knocked out of commercialised paywalls. And they arenāt the only ones. The Pulitzer prizewinning business journalist Michael Hiltzik read the academic publishing industry the last rites in a back in March, arguing that its business model of selling publicly funded findings back to academics at artificially inflated prices ādoesnāt work when a critical need arises for rapid dissemination of data ā like nowā.
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You can think of preprint servers as a disintermediation technology. Such platforms have allowed users and customers to cut out the middleman in service industries such as taxi firms (Uber), hoteliers (Airbnb) and cinema chains (Netflix). But there are reasons to doubt that the traditional commercial players in academic communication will be so easily toppled.
Evidence of this can be seen in the way major publishers are future-proofing their profits against the digital environment, with its anarchic possibilities for jumping paywalls. For instance, SSRN, the largest repository of open access preprint papers in the social sciences, was snapped up in 2016 by the worldās largest academic publishing conglomerate, Elsevier. And it is hardly surprising that preprint servers are vulnerable to corporate capture. So far, they have mostly relied on donations to pay the bills ā hardly the most sustainable financial model for a revolution in academic publishing.
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Even open access advocates such as Coventry Universityās Samuel Moore concede that commercialism has become embedded in scientific publishing, especially since digitalisation in the mid-1990s. Indeed, in a published in April, he anticipated that the pandemic would strengthen commercial publishersā hand; their deeper pockets would allow them to weather the economic downturn better than their non-profit rivals, emerging to ādictate the future of open access according to their conditionsā.
There are also questions over whether preprints may do more harm than good in biomedicine. They have been a fixture in the natural and social sciences since the early 1990s, but sceptics question their rigour due to the absence of peer reviewing. That is particularly serious when public health is at stake. The open access researcher Maximilian HeimstƤdt, of the Weizenbaum Institute in Berlin, ālow-quality preprints [have been allowed] to derail public debate and feed conspiracy theoriesā. In response, bioRxiv and medRxiv have beefed up their usual screening procedures. As early as February, the former to remind users that the preprints are preliminary and have not been peer reviewed.
It is a moot point whether peer review will boost the quality of preprints. One , albeit with a limited sample (and itself published on bioRxiv), suggests reasons for doubt. The problems run deeper. As University of California, Berkeley biologist Michael Eisen : āPeer review is f***ed upā because it is āconservative, cumbersome, capricious and intrusiveā.
Eisen is now editor-in-chief of the journal eLife, which on 1 December that from July, it will only review manuscripts already published as preprints and will focus its efforts on producing reviews to be posted alongside preprints. The long-term goal is āmove away from the use of journal titles as the primary measure of the quality of researchā.
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However, since ājournal titles remain important for many researchers as they pursue their careersā, eLife will āfor the foreseeable futureā continue to āselect a subset of the papers we review for āpublicationāā ā and embargo the reviews of the others until they have been published elsewhere so as not to prejudice their chances. It is a telling concession.
Our addiction to journal ābrandingā stems from the academic prestige economy ā and, as reveals, ābig publishers have learned how to make themselves apparently indispensableā to that economy, owning and controlling many of the high-impact journals. While eLife is no doubt sincere in its desire to do things differently, it remains to be seen whether even a journal with three major science funders behind it can move the dial decisively.
In short, while we can get excited about the coronavirus vaccines, we shouldnāt expect them to inoculate us against the lure of commercial journals any time soon. As Franz Kafka once put it: āIn the fight between you and the world, back the world.ā
Michael Marinetto is a senior lecturer in management at Cardiff Business School.
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