The opinions presented here are of the author only.
The focus of this reflection is a follow-up to a point made by our esteemed guest speaker and #Cohort4 graduate about his decision to stop being a reviewer on a journal that is not truly open access and charged authors to maintain their copyright (while calling itself an open access publication). I look at the world of academic publishing and I admit to being somewhat shocked, appalled, and yet not surprised by what presents to this fringe traveler as a business model grounded in the exploitation of early career scholars. Tell me, do academic writers ever get paid if they don't have full time university gigs?
Case in Point:
Last fall, I submitted a paper to a [health profession] journal on planet earth that will remain unnamed in response to a special call for papers about disrupting and decolonizing [health profession] education. The guest editors are people who I hold in high esteem, so I was excited to submit a paper about this idea I have to use Indigenous popular and hip-hop music as a tool to support critical digital pedagogy in online advanced [health profession] education. I was ready to put my work out for review by my peers.
I have limited experience with the paper submission process, particularly as primary author. I set up my author account with the publisher, submitted all the sections of the paper as requested, blinded for peer review, and then pressed the 'submit' button. Suddenly, I was given two choices: I could a) pay north of $3000 USD (this includes a 10% discount for university affiliation) to maintain copyright and have the paper published as fully open access or b) give up copyright, not be paid for my intellectual labor, and publication would essentially live behind a paywall. What the actual what?!?!?! This is part of my dissertation we are talking about! I didn't know what to do, and ended up submitting without payment seemingly signing away the rights to my work. I didn't have $3000 USD to support the publication of this paper!
The more I thought about it, the more I couldn't get past the contradiction between inviting papers on disruption and decolonization and then exploiting the intellectual labor of early career scholars who had not yet had the opportunity to know the value of their work or have funding to support open access publications. In a colonial academic structure that demands early career scholars 'publish or perish' to achieve tenure, it is the most vulnerable who are at highest risk of being exploited in this way. I am in the genuinely unique position of having insight into academia while not depending on academia for my ongoing financial wellbeing. My responsibilities and obligations lie in trying to a) respond to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada's (2015) calls to action in a meaningful way, and to uphold Joyce's Principle which "aims to guarantee to all Indigenous people the right to equitable access, without any discrimination, to all social and health services, as well as the right to enjoy the best possible physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual health"
(p. 10). My job is to do my work in a good way, learn to be a better ally, and help open space for different ways to advance knowledge and excellence in online higher education.
What are your thoughts about academic publishing? Does it make any sense whatsoever?
In the end I withdrew my paper and sent the following letter:
Please
consider this a letter to the editors in response to the call for papers on
disrupting and decolonizing [health profession].
In my initial
email to [name] and [name], I requested withdrawal of my paper from the call for
papers on disrupting and decolonizing [health professional] education. I appreciate and esteem
all of you as [health profession] education leaders with a sincere commitment to social
justice and equity. With the greatest respect, after continued thought and
reflection I stand by the withdrawal because of the license copyright loss by the
author who does not have a spare $3000+ USD to keep it. I spoke to the
copyright person at the local university who explained the license my work
would have (were it deemed worthy by my peers and as one unfunded) as the most
restrictive type of creative commons license. That does not work for me, hence
my request for withdrawal.
But this is
not about me. This is about my early career, non-tenured colleagues and fellow
doctoral students whose bodies don’t come in white skin. They who are more
likely to have no option but to surrender copyright to their early career work
before they know the true value of it. Forced to publish or perish, these early
career wonder people are under-supported in a system that actively overworks
and undervalues their unique and essential contributions to advancing the profession.
As I said in a previous email, this reinforces racist and colonial structures.
I can’t see it and not push back against it. As decolonizing project it can’t help but fail when privileged
authors have the capacity to retain copyright on their work while the
marginalized are less likely to be in a position where they can afford to.
Gender, power, race, class, privilege, wealth. Same old tired white colonial
story.
To truly
begin to support disruption, [well known academic publisher] could waive all fees, make the issue
fully open in the way open educational resources are meant to be. The
corporation would be strategic in offering the [metallic color] open access for any work
deemed worthy by peers for publication. Early career authors should not have to pay to
retain copyright of their work. It is not equitable and this practice does not
align with the heart of [health profession] (Cowling et al.,
2000).
Were [well known academic publisher] to make the issue truly open, I would happily reverse my decision and
throw my paper back into the stack for review. My dissertation work is about
conciliation and reconciliation – it is important for me to ensure any
publications I have are open. This helps me do the work and share it in a
good way.
Sincerely...
Cowling, R., Chinn, P., & Hagedorn,
S. (2000). A Nursing Manifesto: A Call to Conscience and Action |
NurseManifest.
https://nursemanifest.com/a-nursing-manifesto-a-call-to-conscience-and-action/
Revised February 28, 2024 to reflect how I would write the letter now. Few words have been changed, only to increase anonymity.