Posted under Gender & jobs & publication & race
Historiann has been thinking a lot about peer review lately. It seems, as in the old nursery rhyme, that peer review is like the little girl with the curl right in the middle of her forehead: When it is good, it is very very good, but when it is bad, it is horrid.
At its best, peer review helps writers avoid making dunderheaded factual errors and points them to other sources to help bolster their arguments. When it’s done by generous and intellectually engaged reviewers, it helps writers sharpen their arguments, tone down (or rev up) their prose, and to see more big-picture connections and implications of their work that even the writers couldn’t see until someone slightly more expert than they are pointed it out. What’s not to like, with a fair and humane group of supportive senior scholars freely sharing their wisdom with their (usually junior) colleagues? Furthermore, having one’s work reviewed by supportive senior scholars is a really great way of making new friends and influencing influential people. I’ve had that experience a few times–and I’m truly grateful to the people who lent their time and expertise to make me a better historian.
Well, that vision of peer review is very much an ideal, in the way that a 2-2 load at a wealthy institution with brilliant students and lots of leave time is an ideal that most of us will never know outside of our dreams. Peer review is fraught with opportunities for abuse, deception, and caprice. And, when either getting or keeping a job is on the line, that means that the misuse of peer review is not just a playful game of Chutes and Ladders. Here are some of the major problems I’ve seen firsthand or heard about from friends and acquaintances: