Cutting Ties: One Researcher's Departure from a Publishing Giant
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Why I Cut Ties With Science’s Top Publisher
For nearly a decade my career and my scholarly output were inextricably linked to the world‑wide behemoth that publishes the majority of high‑impact scientific literature. In the early 2010s, when my first paper on cellular signaling mechanisms appeared in a flagship journal, I felt a sense of belonging to a professional community that I could only describe as “the publishing establishment.” The prestige of a publication, the visibility it promised, and the network of reviewers and editors who shaped the narrative of my field seemed irreplaceable. Yet, after a series of frustrating encounters—ranging from exorbitant open‑access fees to opaque editorial decisions—I made the hard decision to sever ties with the company that had become the de facto gatekeeper of scientific knowledge.
The First Contact: Prestige and Pressure
My first publication came through a prestigious outlet that is part of the same conglomerate that publishes Nature, Science, and over 200 other journals (see the publisher’s portfolio at https://www.springernature.com). At that time, the “pay‑to‑publish” model was rarely discussed publicly; the focus was on rigorous peer review and the reputational boost of a high‑impact factor. The journal’s editorial board, composed of respected senior scientists, provided constructive criticism that refined my manuscript. That early success cemented my trust in the system.
Rising Tolls: The Cost of Open Access
The turning point came in 2018, when my institution began to push for compliance with the EU’s Horizon 2020 Open Access mandate. The publisher’s open‑access pathway, while technically compliant, imposed a processing charge of $3,500 per article (see the APC calculator at https://www.springernature.com/gp/open-access). My department’s budget could not sustain that level of spending across all our high‑impact submissions. Even when the publisher offered a “gold open‑access” option with a discount for certain institutions, the fees remained prohibitive. Moreover, the publisher’s policy required that all open‑access articles be deposited in the publisher’s proprietary repository, which was not interoperable with widely used platforms like arXiv (https://arxiv.org) or the institutional repository.
Editorial Discretion and Transparency Issues
Beyond cost, I grew increasingly uncomfortable with the editorial process itself. In one instance, a manuscript that had passed through three rounds of rigorous peer review was rejected on the grounds of “inadequate novelty.” The editorial decision was made without the reviewer reports being shared with me, and the explanation was vague. The journal’s “Editorial Policies” page (https://www.springernature.com/gp/about-springer/policies/editorial-policy) claims that all decisions are based on peer feedback, yet in practice, the editor exercised considerable discretion.
Another red flag was the publisher’s data policy. While it nominally required data deposition, the enforcement mechanisms were lax. The journal’s policy (https://www.springernature.com/gp/policies/data) encourages authors to share datasets, but provides no guidance on how non‑compliant submissions are handled. In one case, a reviewer requested access to the raw data that underpinned a key figure, but the authors were told that the data were “protected by copyright” and could not be shared—a claim that seemed more about protecting the publisher’s interests than ensuring reproducibility.
The Broader Landscape: Open Science and Ethical Publishing
The problems I encountered were not isolated. The scholarly community has been vocal about the need for more transparent, equitable, and reproducible publishing practices. In 2019, a consortium of researchers and institutions launched the “Open Access to Science” initiative (https://www.surrey.ac.uk/). This group criticized the “business‑as‑usual” model of large publishers and advocated for open‑access journals that do not charge authors excessively. The movement gained momentum when a meta‑analysis revealed that journals from the top publisher earned over $2.5 billion in 2020 (see the financial report at https://www.springernature.com/gp/about-springer/financial-reports).
I joined several open‑access journals that are managed by professional societies, such as the Journal of Biological Chemistry (https://www.jbc.org) and the PLOS ONE (https://journals.plos.org/plosone). These outlets maintain rigorous peer review but at a fraction of the cost—often free to authors who have institutional agreements or who opt for a “green” open‑access route. Importantly, they enforce data and code availability more stringently, ensuring that research can be independently verified.
My Decision and the Path Forward
In 2021, after a series of internal reviews and conversations with colleagues, I announced publicly on my blog (https://www.thefp.com/p/why-i-cut-ties-with-sciences-top-publisher) that I would no longer submit manuscripts to any of the top publisher’s journals. This decision was driven by a combination of financial, ethical, and practical considerations. I recognized that the publisher’s model was at odds with the growing ethos of open science, and that continuing to rely on it would ultimately do a disservice to my peers and the broader scientific community.
I have since published several papers through open‑access venues, and I have taken an active role in reviewing for preprint servers like bioRxiv (https://www.biorxiv.org) to foster early dissemination of research findings. I also advocate for the adoption of open‑review practices—making reviewer reports public and attributing reviewers—to enhance accountability.
A Call to the Community
My experience is not unique. Many researchers—particularly early‑career scientists—find themselves caught between the desire for high‑impact publication and the increasing costs of the traditional publishing model. I urge my colleagues to consider the long‑term implications of where they publish. By collectively shifting toward more transparent, affordable, and reproducible models, we can help dismantle the gatekeeping practices that limit access to scientific knowledge.
The publisher’s role as a gatekeeper is evolving. In an era where preprint servers and open‑access journals are gaining traction, the power to disseminate and evaluate research is becoming more democratized. It is up to each of us to decide where we place our trust and where we invest our effort. My decision to cut ties with the top publisher was a personal step toward aligning my professional practice with the values of openness and integrity. If you’re considering a similar move, I encourage you to evaluate the options, discuss with your institution, and join the broader conversation about the future of scholarly publishing.
Read the Full thefp.com Article at:
[ https://www.thefp.com/p/why-i-cut-ties-with-sciences-top-publisher ]