Scholarly publishing, if you haven’t noticed, is nearing a crisis. Authors are questioning the value added by publishers. Open Access publications are growing in number and popularity. Peer review is being criticized and re-invented. Libraries are unable to pay price increases for subscription journals. Traditional measures of scholarly impact and journal rankings are being questioned while new ones are developed. Fresh business models or publishing platforms appear to spring up daily.1
I personally am a little frustrated with scholarly publishing, albeit for reasons not entirely related to the above. I find that most journals haven’t adapted to the digital age yet and thus are still employing editorial workflows and yielding final products suited to print.
How come I have yet to see a journal article PDF with clickable hyperlinks? For that matter, why is PDF still the dominant file format? What advantage does a fixed-width format hold over flexible, fluid-width HTML?2 Why are raw data not published alongside research papers? Why are software tools not published alongside research papers? How come I’m still submitting black-and-white charts to publications which are primarily read online? Why are digital-only publications still bound to regular publication schedules when they could publish like blogs, as soon as the material is ready? To be fair, some journals have answered some of these questions, but the issues are still all too frequent.
So, as a bit of an experiment, I recently published a short research study entirely on GitHub.3 I included the scripts used to generate data, the data, and an article-like summary of the whole process.
I analyzed 130 mobile library websites using YSlow, compared them to the Alexa Top 10, published on GitHub: http://t.co/phQVaRRb9V
— Eric Phetteplace (@phette23) October 11, 2013
What makes it possible
Unfortunately, I wouldn’t recommend my little experiment for most scholars, except perhaps for pre- or post-prints of work published elsewhere. Why? The primary reason people publish research is for tenure review, for enhancing a CV. I won’t list my study—though, arguably, I should be able to—simply because it didn’t go through the usual scholarly publishing gauntlet. It wasn’t peer-reviewed, it didn’t appear in a journal, and it wouldn’t count for much in the eyes of traditional faculty members.
However, I’m at a community college. Research and publication are not among my position’s requirements. I’m judged on my teaching and various library responsibilities, while publications are an unnecessary bonus. Would it help to have another journal article on my CV? Yes, probably. But there’s little pressure and personally I’m more interested in experimentation than in lengthening my list of publications.
Other researchers might also worry about someone stealing their ideas or data if they begin publishing an incomplete project. For me, again, publication isn’t really a competitive field. I would be happy to see someone reuse my project, even if they didn’t give proper attribution back. Openness is an advantage, not a vulnerability.
It’s ironic that being at a non-research institution frees me up to do research. It’s done mostly in my free-time, which isn’t great, but the lack of pressure means I can play with modes of publication, or not worry about the popularity of journals I submit to. To some degree, this is indicative of structural problems with scholarly publishing: there’s inertia in that, in order to stay in the game and make a name for yourself, you can’t do anything too wild. You need to publish, and publish in the recognized titles. Only tenured faculty, who after all owe at least some of their success to the current system, can risk dabbling with new publishing models and systems of peer-review.
What’s really good
GitHub, and the web more generally, are great mediums for scholarship. They address several of my prior questions.
For one, the web is just as suited to publishing data as text. There’s no limit on file format or (practically) size. Even if I was analyzing millions of data points, I could make a compressed archive available for others to download, verify, and reuse in their own research. For my project, I used a Google Spreadsheet which allows others to download the data or simply view it on the web. The article itself can be published on GitHub Pages, which provides free hosting for static websites.
While my study didn’t undergo any peer review, it is open for feedback via a pull request or the “issues” queue on GitHub. Typically, peer review is a closed process. It’s not apparent what criticisms were leveled at an article, or what the authors did to address them. Having peer review out in the open not only illuminates the history of a particular article but also makes it easier to see the value being added. Luckily, there are more and more journals with open peer review, such as PeerJ which we’ve written about previously. When I explain peer review to students, I often open up the “Peer Review history” section of a PeerJ article. Students can see that even articles written by professional researchers have flaws which the reviewing process is designed to identify and mitigate.
Another benefit of open peer review, present in publishing on GitHub too, is the ability to link to specific versions of an article. This has at least two uses. First of all, it has historical value in that one can trace the thought process of the researcher. Much like original manuscripts are a source of insight for literary analyses, merely being able to trace the evolution of a journal article enables new research projects in and of itself.
Secondly, as web content can be a moving target as it is revised over time, being able to link to specific versions aids those referencing a work. Linking to a git “commit” (think a particular point in time), possibly using perma.cc or the Internet Archive to store a copy of the project as it existed then, is an elegant way of solving this problem. For instance, at one point I manually removed some data points which were inappropriate for the study I was performing. One can inspect the very commit where I did this, seeing which lines of text were deleted and possibly identifying any mistakes which were made.
I’ve also grown tired of typical academic writing. The tendency to value erudite over straightforward language, lengthy titles with the snarky half separated from the actually descriptive half by a colon, the anxiety about the particularities of citations and style manuals; all of these I could do without. Let’s write compelling, truthful content without fetishizing consistency and losing the uniqueness of our voice. I’m not saying my little study achieves much in this regard, but it was a relief to be free to write in whatever manner I found most suitable.
Finally, and most encouraging in my mind, the time to publication of a research project can be greatly reduced with new web-based means. I wrote a paper in graduate school which took almost two years to appear in a peer-reviewed journal; by the time I was given the pre-prints to review, I’d entirely forgotten about it. On GitHub, all delays were solely my fault. While it’s true (you can see so in the project’s history) that the seeds of this project were planted nearly a year ago, I started working in earnest just a few months ago and finished the writing in early October.
What’s really bad
GitHub, while a great company which has reduced the effort needed to use version control with its clean web interface and graphical applications, is not the most universally understood platform. I have little doubt that if I were to publish a study on my blog, I would receive more commentary. For one, GitHub requires an account which only coders or technologists would be likely to have already, while many comment platforms (like Disqus) build off of common social media accounts like Twitter and Facebook. Secondly, while GitHub’s “pull requests” are more powerful than comments in that they can propose changes to the actual content of a project, they’re doubtless less understood as well. Expecting scholarly publishing to suddenly embrace software development methodologies is naive at best.
As a corollary to GitHub’s rather niche appeal, my article hasn’t undergone any semblance of peer review. I put it out there; if someone spots an inaccuracy, I’ll make note of and address it, but no relevant parties will necessarily critique the work. While peer review has its problems—many intimate with the problems of scholarly publishing at large—I still believe in the value of the process. It’s hard to argue a publication has reached an objective conclusion when only a single pair of eyes have scrutinized it.
Researchers who are afraid of having their work stolen, or of publishing incomplete work which may contain errors, will struggle to accept open publishing models using tools like GitHub. Prof Hacker, in an excellent post on “Forking the Academy”, notes many cultural challenges to moving scholarly publishing towards an open source software model. Scholars may worry that forking a repository feels like plagiarism or goes against the tradition of valuing original work. To some extent, these fears may come more from misunderstandings than genuine problems. Using version control, it’s perfectly feasible to withhold publishing a project until it’s complete and to remove erroneous missteps taken in the middle of a work. Theft is just as possible under the current scholarly publishing model; increasing the transparency and speed of one’s publishing does not give license to others to take credit for it. Unless, of course, one uses a permissive license like the Public Domain.
Convincing academics that the fears above are unwarranted or can be overcome is a challenge that cannot be overstated. In all likelihood, GitHub as a platform will never be a major player in scholarly publishing. The learning curve, both technical and cultural, is simply too great. Rather, a good starting point would be to let the appealing aspects of GitHub—versioning, pull requests, issues, granular attribution of authorship at the commit level—inform the development of new, user-friendly platforms with final products that more closely resemble traditional journals. Prof Hacker, again, goes a long way towards developing this with a wish list for a powerful collaborative writing platform.
What about the IR?
The discoverability of web publications is problematic. While I’d like to think my research holds value for others’ literature reviews, it’s never going to show up while searching in a subscription database. It seems unreasonable to ask researchers, who already look in many places to compile complete bibliographies, to add GitHub to their list of commonly consulted sources. Further fracturing the scholarly publishing environment not only inconveniences researchers but it goes against the trend of discovery layers and aggregators (e.g. Google Scholar) which aim to provide a single search across multiple databases.
On the other hand, an increasing amount of research‐from faculty and students alike—is conducted through Google, where GitHub projects will appear alongside pre-prints in institutional repositories. Simply being able to tweet out a link to my study, which is readable on a smartphone and easily saved to any read-it-later service, likely increases its readership over stodgy PDFs sitting in subscription databases.
Institutional repositories solve some, but not all, of the deficiencies of publishing on GitHub. Discoverability is increased because researchers at your institution may search the IR just like they do subscription databases. Futhermore, thanks to the Open Archives Initiative and the OAI-PMH standard, content can be aggregated from multiple IRs into larger search engines like OCLC’s OAIster. However, none of the major IR software players support versioned publication. Showing work-in-progress, linking to specific points in time of a work, and allowing for easy reuse are all lost in the IR.
Every publication in its place
As I’ve stated, publishing independently on GitHub isn’t for everyone. It’s not going to show up on your CV and it’s not necessarily going to benefit from the peer review process. But plenty of librarians are already doing something similar, albeit a bit less formal: we’re writing blog posts with original research or performing quick studies at our respective institutions. It’s not a great leap to put these investigations under version control and then publish them on the web. GitHub could be a valuable compliment to more traditional venues, reducing the delay between when data is collected and when it’s available for public consumption. Furthermore, it’s not at all mutually exclusive with article submissions. One could gain both the immediate benefit of getting one’s conclusions out there, but also produce a draft of a journal article.
As scholarly publishing continues to evolve, I hope we’ll see a plethora of publishing models rather than one monolithic process replacing traditional print-based journals. Publications hosted on GitHub, or a similar platform, would sit nicely alongside open, web-based publications like PeerJ, scholarly blog/journal hybrids like In The Library with the Lead Pipe, deposits in Institutional Repositories, and numerous other sources of quality content.
- I think a lot of these statements are fairly well-recognized in the library community, but here’s some evidence: the recent Open Access “sting” operation (which we’ll cover more in-depth in a forthcoming post) that exposed flaws in some journals’ peer review process, altmetrics, PeerJ, other experiments with open peer review (e.g. by Shakespeare Quarterly), the serials crisis (which is well-known enough to have a Wikipedia entry), predictions that all scholarship will be OA in a decade or two, and increasing demands that scholarly journals allow text mining access all come to mind. ↩
- I’m totally prejudiced in this matter because I read primarily through InstaPaper. A journal like Code4Lib, which publishes in HTML, is easy to send to read-it-later services, while PDFs aren’t. PDFs also are hard to read on smartphones, but they can preserve details like layout, tables, images, and font choices better than HTML. A nice solution is services which offer a variety of formats for the same content, such as Open Journal Systems with its ability to provide HTML, PDF, and ePub versions of articles. ↩
- For non-code uses of GitHub, see our prior Tech Connect post. ↩