a matter of standards. ii. grants and academic positions
TRANSCRIPT
A Matter of Standards. II. Grantsand academic positions
As with the matter of standards for the individual scientist
(see previous editorial), the question of the appropriate
standards for awarding research grants and academic
positions seems straightforward initially. For the awarding of
grants, the aim is to fund the best research, as assessed in
terms of the goals of the granting agency. For new positions,
the aim is to promote the best scientists. At this level of Platonic
ideality, the matter of standards is indeed simple and non-
controversial.
The problems begin when one starts to weigh the specific
working criteria that are used to judge the ‘‘best’’, whether of
research proposals or of scientists. Once one enters this
realm, the topic becomes vast, given the diversity of criteria
employed by different institutions and bodies for judging
research projects and individuals. For research grants, a
granting agency with a fairly narrowly defined mission in
applied research, for instance one with a medical or
agricultural mission, will have a different set of criteria than
the National Science Foundation, with its broader remit. With
respect to hiring, a small university whose academic staff have
heavy teaching loads will have different criteria for appoint-
ments than one of the top research universities, though often
the smaller institutions place a premium on research ability as
well as teaching skill. In effect, each institution will, and indeed
should, set its own evaluative system and criteria.
Nevertheless, certain general features of both evaluative
processes—features that tend to work against the general
goal of selecting the ‘‘best’’—have become apparent in recent
decades. The focus here will be on the US and major European
systems and the emphasis in this brief comment will be
on basic research (research that does not have a specific
developmental application as its goal) and on the criteria
for hiring the academics who do such research. (One major
problem, of course, is that ‘‘basic’’ research in nearly all the big
funding systems is increasingly under pressure to justify its
existence in terms of potential applications(1) but that aspect,
worthy of separate treatment at length, will not be dealt with in
this piece).
The awarding of every grant and position involves a set of
comparative judgments in order to make a bet on the future,
using past performance as a guide. Since future outcomes
necessarily have a measure of uncertainty, there will always be
a degree of doubt attached to the outcome. It is human nature,
in such situations, to try to raise the chances of making the bet
a successful one. Since ‘‘success’’ in research is often equated
with the number of publications produced and since data-rich
papers are virtually guaranteed publication, this fully under-
standable impulse leads to the preferential awarding of grants
to projects that have the highest probability of yielding data.
Yet, while new data can, and often do, lead eventually to new
insights, they are not the equivalent of ‘‘discovery’’ in the
classic sense, in which truly new insights into difficult problems
are directly obtained. The consequence is that the largest
granting systems (e.g. the NIH in the US, most of the EU
‘‘framework’’ programmes in Europe) tend to reward the most
conservative strategies, in which significant discovery is a
hoped-for by-product but where the real, immediate pay-off is
in data, numbers of papers, etc.
There is a rich paradox here. Scientific discovery is about
exploring the unknown. The most probing research, designed
to do just that, is inherently uncertain. Yet, today, the primary
funding mechanisms are highly risk-averse and projects that
are seen as having unpredictable outcomes are at a relative
disadvantage in the judging process. It would be going too far
to say that the major funding mechanisms today positively
inhibit scientific discovery (in the classic sense) but their mode
of operation hardly fosters it.(2)
There are two further undesirable consequences of this
general tendency. First, it favours larger and larger enterprises
that, in effect, transform scientific research into an industrial
enterprise: big laboratories or consortia of co-operating
laboratories, with top-down management structures and lots
of junior scientists as workers who frequently have minimal
intellectual input into the whole enterprise. Indeed, such
systems, in which a small minority get to think and the great
majority of scientists serve as data-generating hands have
been hailed by some as the wave of the future.(3)
Yet what a waste of talent such systems involve! Most
individualswho attain Ph.D.s have far more to offer than simply
their efforts as worker-drones in data-gathering enterprises. If
the great majority of research jobs in the biological sciences
come to be of this sort, those talents will be thrown away.(2)
Creative insights always arise in the minds of individual human
beings, though often as the result of conversations with one or
a small number of other individuals. Scaling up the number of
individuals working on a project, where there is a strong
division of labour, does not scale up the number or frequency
of those insight-generating interactions. In fact, it almost
certainly does the reverse. To say all this is to restate the
familiar argument that ‘‘big’’ science is not the best structure for
the biological sciences, that is, if the aim of science is to obtain
new insights into the workings of the natural world. Even if it
is true that the nature of scientific discovery in biology
has largely changed to an incrementalist mode, favoured by
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Editorial
‘‘data mining’’,(4) funding mechanisms should surely still
allow ample scope for adventurous and conceptually creative
risk-takers.
The other way in which the conservatism of the main
granting bodies works against scientific discovery is that the
system tends to reward those who are already established and
discriminates against younger scientists who have not yet fully
proved themselves and who are struggling to establish
labs and careers. There is a lot to be said for rewarding
older, experienced scientists, those who have already proven
themselves but to the extent that the system works against,
and discourages, younger scientists, it works against the
future health of science. Older (50þ) biologists often have a
breadth and depth of understanding that younger scientists
cannot match but it is usually the younger members of the
profession who make the most important experimental
discoveries. For example, virtually all of the major discoveries
of the golden era of molecular genetics and molecular biology
(roughly the late 1940s to the mid-1960s) were men and
women in their early twenties (e.g., Joshua Lederberg, Jim
Watson) to their late 30s. Fortunately, the tendency of the
present systems to discriminate against young scientists is
increasingly recognized as a serious problem and special
programmes to fund young investigators now exist both in the
US and Europe. In addition, the recently launched European
Research Council(5) initiative, to pick truly imaginative projects,
is a particularly hopeful development that should serve as a
(partial) corrective of the tendency of the granting systems to
favour conservative strategies. Yet, these programmes are
only a start. Nor, it has to be said, are the funding mechanisms
alone in stifling initiative and working against the chances and
hopes of young scientists. Those countries with sclerotic
university systems and in which much of the research is carried
out in universities—Italy is a prime example—are in serious
danger of sacrificing their scientific futures through inertia and
the strength of vested interests. In those countries, the reform
of the funding system has to go hand-in-hand with larger
changes in the higher educational systems as a whole.
There are no simple or easy solutions to these problems
with the major funding mechanisms. Yet, they only get worse
the greater the imbalance between resources and the
numbers of people competing for them, as the present woeful
grant awardee rates in the N.I.H. extramural system (<10%)
attest. Indeed, when the competition is sufficiently severe, the
relative disadvantage of young scientists is diminished: the
system becomes more like a lottery for everyone, with
the great majority ending up losing, regardless of experience
or merit. These problems are widely recognized but they have
not yet generated the sense of urgency, on the part of the
various scientific establishments, to begin to correct them. A
first step would be acknowledging their existence and serious-
ness. More money for basic research would certainly help but
the fundamentals of the system, and the hidden premises,
need searching re-examination. There is no question that peer
review should continue to be a central element of any grant-
awarding system. The question is how to make the various
peer-review systems fairer and more conducive to the
fostering of scientific creativity and discovery.
In principle, judging the relative abilities of individuals for
new positions should be far easier than judging the likely
success of work that has not yet been done. In the former, one
is working with a lot of information, the complete publication
records for all the competing researchers. Yet, it turns out
that the question of criteria of who is the ‘‘best’’ is just as
problematic. On short time scales, it is not always apparent
who has done the most creative and important research.
Indeed, sometimes work that is regarded as unsound, or even
mad, proves to be brilliant and ground-breaking. Howard
Temin’s experiments in the mid-1960s that indicated that there
were some RNA viruses that could ‘‘hide’’ in DNA genomes is
an example; the concept of retrotransposition did not exist
outside his experiments and his early work was largely
ridiculed at the time.
In general, the temptation on the part of the bodies charged
with deciding academic promotions is always to look for a
simple, single metric that will measure ‘‘quality’’. The attraction
of a such a metric is its ostensible objectivity, such that the
losers in these competitions cannot claim that they lost
because of personal bias on the part of the selectors. Thus,
in litigious times, the use of a single metric helps provide legal
protection for the governing bodies that make these decisions.
In the 1960s and 1970s, the single metric was often the
number of publications. Over time, the focus came to be on the
number of publications in the agreed upon ‘‘good’’ journals.
And in the past 10 years or so, the definition of what makes for a
‘‘good’’ journal has been deemed to be that of high impact
factor. The problems with using journal impact factors as a
measure of quality are, by now, well understood.(6) To state the
most obvious, someone doing brilliant research on a non-
fashionable subject is far less likely to be cited often, let alone
get a chance to publish in one of the top impact factor journals,
than someone doing fairly routine research on a major disease
condition, who turns up a new fact about that condition. The
relative difference in citation frequency between two such
individuals would hardly reflect the difference in their scientific
abilities. Furthermore, an excessive reliance on the criterion of
publication in high impact factor journals as a guide to hiring is
tantamount to outsourcing such decisions to the editors of
those journals. Given all the hazards of chance and subjectivity
that the publication process entails (see next month’s edito-
rial), such outsourcing amounts to passing the buck. Fur-
thermore, where an individual’s name is one of several authors
in such publications, it is not always clear how much he/she
can take credit for each individual paper.
But the problem of evaluating accurately scientific ability
goes well beyond the difficulties involved in the use of impact
Editorial
924 BioEssays 30.10
factors. Most generally, there is a fundamental flaw in looking
for a unitary metric to measure the degree of quality of
scientists. A well-established theorem in mathematics is that
one cannot rank members of a multidimensional set in a
unique way that maintains ‘‘order’’, namely preserves ‘‘neigh-
bourhoods’’ of these elements. (More formally, there is no
unique—one-to-one—order-conserving mapping of a multi-
dimensional set onto non-negative real numbers.) You can, of
course, do rankings of the values of each component
dimension for the different elements and then do some kind
of averaging for the rankings of the different components. But
in cases where the measurement of each property has a
subjective or hard-to-measure element, much information will
inevitably be lost and the final result will be a spurious
objectivity. Furthermore, using metrics of output as assays of
intrinsic qualities is always problematical. An example is the
use of IQ tests to measure the highly multi-dimensionsal
property of intelligence.(7) Comparably, the desirable abilities
of research scientists—which determine the quality of the
work produced—includes such disparate qualities as creative
insight, good analytical ability (often including but not restricted
to good mathematical ability), a sense of what constitutes a
really good control or a falsifiable hypothesis, good organiza-
tional skills for carrying out research programmes, team
management abilities, and the capacity to motivate and
encourage students and post-docs. Finally, different styles of
work can generate different kinds of valuable work. Some
scientists show their worth through in-depth and exhaustive
explorations of areas, revealing whole new landscapes of
particular subjects, while others publish less but show an
imaginative spark that helps put old problems in entirely new
perspectives. Still others have a knack for recruiting and
training gifted young investigators.
Given the complexity of evaluating the worth of individuals,
there can never be either a one-size fits all system of
evaluation or, for that matter, a set of perfect systems. There
will always be inequities and injustices in evaluation. Never-
theless, a move away from reliance on simple metrics of worth
is imperative. Academic committees that make decisions on
appointments need to be braver in admitting that the process is
inherently complex and, to a degree, subjective. Yet, when
the decisions are truly collective and based on thorough
discussion of all the factors being weighed, they can be far
sounder than decisions based on simple (and inadequate)
metrics of worth. Those who lose out in hiring decisions will
need to accept that such bodies have the right to make
decisions in this manner.
Nevertheless, it will certainly remain the case that scientists
will be—and should be—evaluated in large part on their
publication records. This consideration, however, immediately
brings one to the problems inherent in the editorial judgments
of scientific journals. We will turn to that topic in the final
editorial in this short series, which will appear in our next
and last issue for 2008, the November–December double
issue.
Adam S. Wilkins is finishing his term as Editor of
BioEssays. He can now be reached c/o Clare Hall, the
University of Cambridge, Herschel Road, Cambridge CB3
9AL, UK.
References1. Lavelle S, D’Ari D. 1998. The new scientific spirit. BioEssays 18:603–605.
2. Medina MA. 2006. The pursuit of creativity in biology. BioEssays 28:1151–
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3. Brent R. 2000. Genomic biology. Cell 100:169–183.
4. Bassett DE, Eisen MB, Boguski MS. 1999. Gene expression informatics–
it’s all in your mine. Nature Genetics Supplement 21:51–55.
5. Editorial. 2008. Starting well in Europe. Nature Genetics 40:485.
6. Lawrence PA. 2003. The politics of publication. Nature 422:259–261.
7. Wilkins A. 2008. Dr Watson’s woeful words– and two missed oppor-
tunities. BioEssays 30:99–101.
DOI 10.1002/bies.20835
Published online in Wiley InterScience (www.interscience.wiley.com).
Editorial
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