Āé¶¹“«Ć½

When the scientific publishing industry goes rogue

Feedback is our weekly column of bizarre stories, implausible advertising claims, confusing instructions and more

Rogue editors

If you ever feel in need of some light entertainment alongside insights into the decline of research integrity and the scientific method, try perusing a website called .

As Āé¶¹“«Ć½ has previously described, some fear that papers in peer-reviewed journals – once seen as the most authoritative source of information – are increasingly untrustworthy, because scientists’ careers these days hinge on their publication tally, incentivising quantity over quality. Retraction Watch documents official retractions of papers – either due to honest errors or outright fraud – often accompanied by wry commentary and the occasional eye-roll.

Feedback thought we already knew most of the ingenious ways that fraudulent papers could get published, but Retraction Watch’s latest find is a new one on us, involving the phenomenon of ā€œrogue editorsā€. This sees fraudsters impersonating real scientists when they write to a journal’s editor suggesting a special issue on a hot topic that they kindly offer to guest-edit. You can guess what happens next: they accept papers written by their confederates or perhaps even themselves, which could, for instance, be full of gibberish copied and pasted from the internet. These papers artificially inflate someone’s list of publications.

Victims include the , which suffered the embarrassment of somehow publishing a special issue that included discussions of aerobics, running wear and Latin dancing, and the , which said after an attack that the main problem is the ā€œexponential growth of scientific publications… which leads to the publication of a huge background noise of useless and low-level articlesā€.

At last, official confirmation from a journal of something Feedback has long suspected: most scientific papers are useless.

Spaced out

If you think journal editors have a tough life, spare a thought for those multimillionaires who took part in NASA’s first tourist trip to the International Space Station. Possibly stung by such as the fact that each person’s trip will release hundreds of times more carbon than a typical holiday on the Costa del Sol, NASA had been vocal about plans for the tourists to do some useful work on board, such as experiments on human cells and optical lenses.

Awkwardly, at a press conference held when the three men landed back on Earth, one of the main topics was how they had been worked too hard. Not what you might expect from a holiday that cost $55 million a head. ā€œWith the value of hindsight, we were way too aggressive on our schedule,ā€ said Larry Connor, a real estate billionaire from Ohio. One experiment that had been slated to take 2.5 hours ended up taking twice that time, he said.

Another sticking point was how much the real astronauts’ schedule was disrupted by having to hand-hold the tourists. In a review afterwards, safety expert Susan Helms admitted that the tourists’ arrival had a ā€œlarger-than-expected impact on the daily workloadā€ of the crew, something they would try to reduce in future trips, according to SpaceNews.

The trip was originally scheduled to last eight days, but was extended to 15 because of bad weather at the landing site – something the tourists said they were thrilled about. We didn’t hear how the crew felt. Feedback’s suggestion: next time, NASA should forget the experiments and let the tourists bring along their butlers.

Define ā€˜define’

An unusual outbreak of cross-disciplinary collaboration began on Twitter recently, when that everyone has given up trying to define. In genetics, that word is ā€œgeneā€, in chemistry it is ā€œmoleculeā€, while in medicine it is ā€œhealthā€, according to some who chimed in.

In Feedback’s experience, for many of these words, the definitions haven’t so much been given up on, as become the subject of rancorous debates that have destroyed relationships, careers or even the odd world, metaphorically speaking. If astronomers could have agreed from the start on the definition of ā€œplanetā€, poor old Pluto wouldn’t have lost its status so humiliatingly.

Fortunately, there was little rancour visible in this particular debate, although the linguists couldn’t agree on their impossible-to-define word. One suggested ā€œwordā€, while another insisted it was, in fact, every word. The big surprise was from ornithology, where someone thought it might be . Who knew?

New word needed

Speaking of words, Feedback’s proudest achievement is giving the world the term . Now, reader Philippa Sandall – who isn’t a shoe-maker – thinks the column and its readers should devise a timely new word to describe the phenomenon of people who expound on controversies despite knowing no more about them than the average person – possibly even less. Feedback is usually stuck next to them at parties.

We need a word that means the exact opposite of expert, but ā€œanti-expertā€ is too boring. Sandall proffers ā€œnixpertā€, but is sure that Āé¶¹“«Ć½ readers could do better. Suggestions please.

Got a story for Feedback?

You can send stories to Feedback by email at feedback@newscientist.com. Please include your home address. This week’s and past Feedbacks can be seen on our website.