Plan S is the latest initiative to propose that all publicly funded science should be available in open access formats from the day of first publication. However, John Holmwood argues it is important to recognise that open access is itself being promoted in the name of commercial interests, including new, for-profit disrupters but also the large publishing conglomerates capturing the production and distribution of open access platforms. Open access mandates risk excluding authors unable to pay article processing charges, and also pose a threat to the learned societies and not-for-profit publishers which have done much to support their epistemological communities, particularly in the humanities and social sciences.
Open access is advocated as a means of securing research as a public good. However, its dominant logic is that of commercialisation. Notwithstanding the hostility toward large publishing conglomerates, other for-profit interests are circling with new threats to the scholarly research ecosystem.
Open access proceeds in starts and stops, promising a fundamental disruption of existing publishing models that never quite seems to happen. In the humanities and social sciences, things have settled around a “hybrid” where many journals combine articles made immediately freely available following payment of an article processing charge (APC) (“Gold OA”), with other articles available through subscription and freely available only in pre-published version and after an embargo period (“Green OA”).
These arrangements were mandated by Research Councils and HEFCE for REF2021. Most universities have not separately provided funding for APCs for Gold OA, while the Research Councils’ block grant will end in 2019-20. A UK Scholarly Communications Licence has been promoted to abolish embargo periods, but universities have been slow to require it of their staff. The availability of material in university depositories had led some to predict that libraries would be able to unsubscribe from journals, but a tipping point seemed distant.
Normal academic life resumed. Until, that is, last month when a new initiative – cOAlitionS of Science Europe – announced Plan S. This proposed that all publicly funded science should be available in OA formats from the day of first publication and that publication could not be in hybrid journals. It also extends OA to monographs and sets a two-year period for compliance (September 2020). Robert-Jan Smits, the European Commission’s special envoy for open access, has declared that the “S” in Plan S, stands for “science, speed, solution, shock”. STM interests dominate, but among 11 national signatories so far, UK Research and Innovation (UKRI) has adopted it across all subject areas.
The proposal sets out “principles”, inviting the academic community and its publishers to find viable business models. The HEFCE Monographs and Open Access project (under Geoffrey Crossick) found no easily adoptable models and warned of the threat to the diverse ecosystem of long-form publishing (declaration of interest: I was ESRC-nominated representative on the project).
Many colleagues in humanities and social science have a somewhat utopian view of OA. They believe that paywalls are an obstacle to the dissemination of knowledge as a public good and resent the inflated subscriptions and pricing policies of some multinational knowledge corporations, like Springer Nature, Elsevier, and SAGE. This resentment is largely a consequence of the big deal on subscriptions, seen as a means of price gouging markets. In Europe, this has given rise to the idea of an “Elsevier no-deal zone”, promoting OA.
According to the President of Science Europe, Marc Schiltz, “monetising the access to new and existing research results is profoundly at odds with the ethos of science”. Notwithstanding, it is important to recognise that OA is itself being promoted in the name of commercial interests. This includes new, for-profit disrupters, but also involves the big conglomerates entering to capture production and distribution of open access platforms (as, for example, in Elsevier’s takeover of bepress). Academic publishing – especially journals – may have been held hostage by large conglomerates, but the mode in which OA is being proposed does nothing to alter that. It merely shifts the focus of their operations.
The main target of OA policies from a public policy point of view in the UK is the commercialisation of research in line with the impact agenda. For example, the Finch Report (2012) argued for OA in order to make research readily available to small and medium enterprises and to facilitate commercial data mining. The copyright licences that are mandated include unrestricted commercial use and “mixing”. The aim is to shorten the time from “idea” to “income” in the creation of new commercial opportunities.
Ownership rights of STM academics are protected by Intellectual Property claims, rather than by author copyright. Their pious incantations against the idea of a paywall for research publications go alongside a claim to any commercial returns which can be realised from extending access. In fact, the idea of commercial benefit is so built-in to the process that Research England’s consultation and survey of the extension of OA to monographs is being conducted by a for-profit company, fullstopp Gmbh, which sells its consulting services to start-ups disrupting the market. Research England is, apparently, uncomprehending both of the conflict of interest this represents and the way in which it provides the consultancy a commercial advantage. This is something that would breach normal standards of research governance and integrity applied to academic research (have they learned nothing from the Cambridge Analytica scandal?).
Image credit: danieljbull, via Pixabay (licensed under a CC0 1.0 license).
The incantation that the “public” should have access to what they fund through their taxes is a little hollow in the context that none of the private beneficiaries of publicly funded research are required to repay any of the investment from which that benefit derives (in contrast to the student beneficiaries of higher education in England who are now required to pay full fees). The public good is defined in terms of the general benefit of economic growth, notwithstanding that neoliberal public policy (of which this version of OA is a part) has no commitment to the inclusivity of that growth.
What of publications in which no commercial use resides, such as those in the humanities and social sciences, where there is usually no patentable research involved? And what of the legitimate business interest of existing publishers, many not-for-profit, where revenues have helped construct academic infrastructure (for example, activities associated with university presses and learned societies)? What is at issue is the relation between two academic roles, that of consumer and producer of research, with the former now coming to dominate over the latter. The wider public is not, in fact, a major consumer of OA research, George Monbiot notwithstanding. OA may have benefits from the point of view of the consumption of knowledge, but it is less clear that it has equivalent benefits from the perspective of the production of knowledge and, more importantly, the ecology of that production (which includes publishers aligned with academic interests and our learned societies and associations).
First, there is the matter of APCs. How will they be funded? OA material will have global reach, but producers outside the currently-dominant centres of academic production are unlikely to have access to publish their research. We are moving from a system of global open access to publish to one of global open access to read, without paying attention to the new forms of exclusion that will entail for the production of knowledge.
There is likely to be a demand management process for APC funding, with a consequent tendency toward the reinforcement of “normal” science. Some colleagues – and early-career and recent graduating doctoral students in particular – will find it difficult to get funding through internal processes. Australian research, for example, has indicated how such peer review disadvantages early-career researchers. Moreover, the funding will increasingly be directed toward university research strategies (more properly: revenue strategies), in which topics of research and vehicles for disseminating it are managerially directed. This replaces academic autonomy – an integral part of academic freedom – with managerial autonomy.
STM subjects (and some social sciences) tend to have a high degree of “epistemological consensus”, while the humanities and social sciences are more likely to have multiple and conflicting epistemological communities. These different communities are served by different journals and book series. The underlying constraint of print sets a limit on numbers of articles that can be published and, in consequence, there is a diversity of journal titles reflecting the diversity of disciplines and interdisciplinary areas. This diversity is served by editors and peer review processes associated with the different epistemological standards, producing an effective evaluation and validation of knowledge claims despite diversity.
In OA, there is no constraint on publication, which takes the form of a stream, where each platform maximises its revenue by maximising the number of papers it publishes. We understand “predatory” publishing in the context of print journals and their standards of peer review associated with selectivity. It is far from clear that epistemological diversity can be maintained in the new context. Plan S also proposes to cap APCs, putting further pressure on the peer review process, as platforms seek to reduce costs. One response has been to suggest “submission charges” in order that successful publications do not subsidise unsuccessful ones, a proposal which would further disadvantage early-career colleagues and those from less wealthy countries.
Some learned societies have participated in the leveraging of journal revenue in association with multinational publishers, thereby contributing to the problem for which OA is offered as a solution. However, it remains the case that the revenue they have generated is ploughed back into the infrastructure of disciplines and collegial association. The university system as a whole benefits from the activities of learned societies and their members, but individual universities are unwilling to support it financially. For example, most academics pay their professional subscriptions from their own pocket. Indeed, universities are increasingly competitive and brand-conscious. Work for a professional association is no longer directly aligned with the commercial interests of individual universities which seek exclusive benefit from the activities of their “employees”.
It seems evident that, finally, the tipping point may have been reached. There is a major threat to the revenues of learned societies and of not-for-profit publishers that have supported our activities. There is also a threat to major journal titles which have sustained the reputations of our subjects and have contributed to their international reach. OA can provide benefits, but we need to broaden the debate and articulate principles of collegiality and professional organisation that are integral to public value. At present, private benefit is adopting the mantle of public value and, if the advocates of commercialisation succeed, the loss will be that of the public in whose name it is taking place.
Note: This article gives the views of the author, and not the position of the LSE Impact Blog, nor of the London School of Economics. Please review our comments policy if you have any concerns on posting a comment below.
About the author
John Holmwood is Professor of Sociology at the University of Nottingham. He is a former President of the British Sociological Association (2012-2014) and was member of the Expert Reference Group for the HEFCE Report on Open Access and the Monograph (January 2015). He is co-founder of the Campaign for the Public University and co-founder and joint managing editor of Discover Society (a free online magazine of social research, commentary and policy analysis). His ORCID is 0000-0002-3440-3524.
Perhaps a SCOAP3 model or derivation of it might work. Why leap to solutions that make the author pay directly? There are better models out there. Consider getting out of the APC mindset – you’re frozen in a paradigm.
Thanks for this, John. As passionate and engaged as always!
I can’t help think, though, that the situation may be more complicated and messy than you present it.
Surely the reason capitalism is so successful is that there are very few areas of life today that it can’t commercialise. This includes the public university – which is why we need the very valuable campaign in support of it you’re involved with. It also includes learned societies, with many of their publishing operations having now been turned over to the corporations, in part or in whole. Ted Striphas has shown how, ten years ago, for-profit publishers already had a stake in 62% of all peer-reviewed scholarly journals, ‘two-thirds of which they owned exclusively’, with the remaining third being produced ‘under contract with various learned societies’. I don’t have more recent figures immediately to hand. But if that was how things stood in 2008, I doubt many people would be shocked if that percentage was to have increased over the last decade. So it turns out that the publishing ecology of our learned societies and associations may also be dominated by the logic of commercialisation. I guess it depends to a certain extent on exactly what percentage of the revenue they generate is ploughed back into the infrastructure of disciplines and collegial association, and what percentage stays with the for-profits and their shareholders.
It’s hardly surprising, then, that capitalism can turn open access to its advantage by devising means of commercialising certain aspects and flavors of it too.
Couldn’t we just as well say that many critiques of OA themselves end up promoting commercial interests – especially if they don’t work too hard at coming up with solutions or alternative research ecosystems? Might it not be a better idea for us to show more collegiality and solidarity with those who are exploring some of the more interesting and radical tendencies within our scholarly research ecosystem, including the movement for open access? After all, if OA is to be condemned for having been taken up by those who seek to commercialise research, what are we to make of those presses academics tend to otherwise publish their books with, such as Routledge, Palgrave, Sage and Bloomsbury Academic? What is their dominant logic if it’s not commercialisation?
Now I don’t say this to morally single anyone out. Hey, most of us have been there, done that. The situation, as I say, is messy. I’m just wondering, isn’t there a danger that, by repeatedly presenting OA as ‘being promoted in the name of commercial interests’, we will end up driving ourselves back into the arms of a traditional system of publishing and research that is in many respects just as compromised, if not more so – not only in terms of capital but also in terms of cultural values, institutional hierarchies etc.?
Thanks, Richard. I agree with all your points, but draw some different conclusions, though I am sympathetic, too, to your more radical aims. Academic publication depends on a considerable amount of collegiality, much of which is organised through learned societies (or other collectivities organised around political interests, for example). It is true that many (but not all) learned societies have joined together with large commercial publishers and have drawn revenue advantages from the ‘big deal’ on subscriptions. This has facilitated large profits for the publishers and also significant revenues for the learned societies. This may have created wider financial problems but learned societies are themselves not for profit undertakings and their revenues have benefited their members and wider audiences.
If I am unsympathetic to the large profit margins of the big publishers, I am concerned that the new OA regime threatens the revenues that sustain collegiality. Robert Harington of the American Mathematics society has set out the scale of potential losses in revenue. See: https://scholarlykitchen.sspnet.org/2018/10/01/societies-mission-and-publishing-why-one-size-does-not-fit-all/
Universities are increasingly commercial in their orientation to learned societies, too, in terms of charges for conferences and academic time in editorial roles, etc. If for-profit publishers dominate in the new landscape, it is also likely that there will be pressure to cut special deals on APCs to reflect the editorial and review work previously done for free – see, for example, the University of California declaration of ‘Rights and Principles to Transform Scholarly Communication’, where collegiality is an expression of the dominant university brand that should not be donated beyond it. See:https://blogs.lse.ac.uk/impactofsocialsciences/2018/10/02/the-expansion-of-open-access-is-being-driven-by-commercialisation-where-private-benefit-is-adopting-the-mantle-of-public-value/.
My general point is that UKRI should have the protection of the fragile eco-system(s) of scholarly publication at the centre f its concerns. This involves the protection of learned societies, not-for-profit publishers and co-operative ventures by new groups of scholars. At present, they are targeting one form of commercialisation that earns some publishers excessive profits and facilitating its replacement by a similar commercialisation of OA.