Profiteering, Secretive Chemists and Open Access

Yesterday George Monbiot published a scathing piece in the Guardian about academic publishers, writing that they are the “most ruthless capitalists in the western world” and that “the racket they run is most urgently in need of referral to the competition authorities”.

I agree that journal pricing is absurd. Viewing a single article will cost you around $30–40. I’ve never understood how it can cost that much to publish and provide one-time access to a single article considering distribution is electronic and journals don’t pay for peer-review.

Libraries spend a large proportion of their budgets on journal subscription deals where they get access to thousands of journals, but are tied into 6% yearly price increases. One wonders why libraries agreed to such high yearly increases in the first place, well above the rate of inflation. Imperial’s library spends £3.8 million—43% of its budget—on journal subscriptions every year. However, Deborah Shorley, Director of Imperial’s Library, isn’t going to let this continue by trying to get publishers to accept payments in Sterling and reduce subscription fees by 15%.

My biggest gripe is that research funded by the tax payer isn’t freely available to the public. I agree with Monbiot that all research funded by the tax payer should be freely available to the public. It seems that private individuals all too often make vast profits from public investment.

Where’s the chemistry arXiv?

Nature recently published a piece about the pre-print server arXiv on its 20th anniversary. ArXiv seems like an excellent resource but chemistry has nothing like it. Why? Derek Lowe wrote today that he doesn’t know; nor do I. I think The Curious Wavefunction is on to something in that chemists are more secretive than physicists.

Perhaps it’s because cutting edge physics experiments are large and require lots of collaboration, unlike most chemistry research. A big development in chemistry could come from a small group working in a couple of fume hoods. They are much more easily beaten to publication by a competing group (and consequently lose out on any subsequent recognition) than physicists working on something like the LHC, so they are secretive until their work is published.[^cwblogcomment]

I hope that there will be a shift to open access but my feeling is there won’t. There’s no incentive for those in positions to bring about such a change to actually do so. Widely read, high impact journals are closed access and make lots of money from subscription fees, so there isn’t an incentive for publishers to switch to open access and charge authors to publish instead. Additionally, only well established researchers can afford to publish in a low impact open access journal rather than high impact closed journal.

[^cwblogcomment]: I posted this point as a comment on The Curious Wavefunction’s original post. Might be some discussion over there Indeed there is!

“I’ll just memorise it for the exam”

Back in May, I read a blog post by Nick Morris titled Do students need to know facts or do they just need to know how to interpret them? in which he wrote that if students don’t need to know the facts, but instead only understand them, then there needs to be a major change in teaching and subsequent assessment at university. I intended to write a response but never really got round to it. A recent post by The Curious Wavefunction, On Chemistry’s Multiple Cultures, got me thinking about it all again.

At the time of Nick’s post I had just finished my last ever set of written exams, but morale was not exactly high as our research project reports were due in couple of weeks and then we had viva voce exams (covering years 1-3 of our degree…). It occurred to me that throughout the whole of my degree I have had to endlessly memorise facts in order to be successful in exams. Why?

Some memorisation is necessary because every scientist needs to know the foundations of their discipline. Memorisation should be restricted to the foundations. All chemists, for example, need to know all of the functional groups. However memorising facts, in my experience, isn’t confined to the foundations. I’ve been expected to memorise trivial details of advanced courses that are forgotten as soon as the exam is over. For example, in one course I was required to memorise the half-lives, precursors and corresponding nuclear reactions of radioactive isotopes used in positron emission topography and write them down when proposing synthetic routes to molecules. Yes, the half-life is important, but why are marks wasted on these details when they could be provided in the exam. The marks should be used to assess understanding, not the ability to memorise numbers.

Another course wholly consisted of memorising reactions in the presence and absence of ultrasound or microwaves, and then writing them down in the exam. Third and fourth years, who have mastered the foundations, should study advanced material by looking at the patterns and trends. They should be thinking, understanding and reasoning, not memorising.

In my final year I spent the majority of my time working on my research project. Memorisation was of no use to me then—what good is the ability to memorise when “the facts” are not yet known? I’ve seen friends who ace exams because they can memorise derivations and reaction conditions fail miserably in the lab because they can’t work out what to do when things don’t go quite as the textbooks would suggest. One friend used to memorise whole derivations for exams, even though he didn’t understand them. Far too much emphasis is placed on an undergraduate’s ability to memorise rather than think, considering the former is, in my limited experience, of little use in research and to employers.

I think there are three reasons why some courses require the memorisation of an extraordinary amount of information.

Firstly, I think a minority of lecturers simply don’t realise how much they are asking their students to learn. They are the experts in their field who have spent years working on a specific area and know it inside out. Without realising, they expect their students to know the same facts they do. I think the majority of “bad” lecturers fall in to this category.

Secondly, it makes assessment straightforward. It’s easy to assess a student if you ask them to write down a reaction or fill in the product of a given set of reagents and conditions. When students complain about or do badly on an exam question, examiners can say, and have said, in exam feedback that “it was in the notes”.

Thirdly, I think an even smaller minority of lecturers are bitter and don’t want to change things because they had to memorise everything and so should we. Once a lecturer asked us how we would improve our course and commented that there are some members of staff who, if they had their own way, would have the course exactly the same as it was 30 years ago. This is not good; we do not live in the 1980s.

I want to emphasise that the vast majority of my lectures have been good, and a few have been truly awesome, but I think assessment methods need to change. Students need to be assessed on what they understand and how they think rather than what they have memorised for the exam. “I’ll just memorise it for the exam” was a phrase heard far too often in my department.

One final year lecture course, “Green Solvents”, was outstanding and is definitely up there in my top five courses of all time. I feel like I learnt more in those eight lectures than any other course throughout my whole degree. Before each lecture we were given one or two fairly lengthy reviews to read, which we then discussed in the following lecture. Not only did we learn about green solvents, we learnt about science as a process and how to read papers more critically. Even if I were to never look at green solvents ever again, the course was still worthwhile. For assessment, rather than a traditional written exam, we had to write an essay assessing a paper of our choice that claimed to have “greened” an industrial process. It was much more enjoyable and stimulating than the brain-numbing and soul-destroying revision for all the other exams I took. We need more courses like this that require thinking rather than regurgitation.

The Curious Wavefunction’s post On Chemistry’s Multiple Cultures made me think that the segregation between chemists starts as undergraduate. I didn’t take many organic courses because I’m rubbish at learning all the reaction conditions, reagents and solvents which score you a lot of marks in the exam. Friends who struggle with equations and maths hate physical chemistry. They’ll then go on to be an “x” chemist who hates “y” and won’t have anything to do with it. Surely this is bad for chemistry as a whole? Perhaps if assessment methods changed so that they tested understanding rather than trivial details, students wouldn’t specialise so early and neglect whole swathes of their discipline.