Science exists if published. Achieving a publication in an accredited journal is the culmination of hundreds if not thousands of person-hours work [1], and an often-sinuous road from start to finish. Despite wishes to the contrary however, sometimes a project comes to a premature halt. This may happen in two main ways. First, the study simply may not be publishable in a reputable journal: the manuscript is rejected by one journal after another. Should the study be significantly flawed, publishing it in a permissive journal would – if anything – do a disservice to science [2]. The second way is simpler, but unpleasant in a different way: the study is dropped before ever being submitted.
All researchers experience the drop, if for no other reason because many projects never even come close to concrete research. We incessantly toy with ideas. Notes are taken and relevant literature read before deciding whether to ramp-up time and effort into a more official project. Before embarking, we may run the idea past other scientists at a conference, in our lab, or contact a specific open-minded colleague. As we proceed and things become serious, we may encounter what is referred to in economics and decision-making theory as the “Concorde fallacy”: so much time and energy has already been invested in the project that we must continue to the end, even if this means salvaging low grade science and poor prospects for publication. Of course, unerring motivation only intensifies the fallacy, but the reality is that many scientists nowadays avoid the fallacy – they carefully weigh their options of staying on or dropping the project.
Indeed, there is an unmistakable emerging norm of scientists calculating and dropping should their personal threshold for project viability be crossed. A dropper may do anything from leaving the project diplomatically and with fair warning, to abruptly vanishing without a trace. Droppers likely feel some guilt or remorse, but may be comforted by the thought that it is a norm – “others do it too”. Nevertheless, leaving a project is not without costs. Dropping can affect the science and the course of a study, the demeanor of those remaining, and not surprisingly, the reputation of the dropper. At worst, dropping can spell the premature end of a project (particularly for small groups) and remorse of those left behind at seeing the idea subsequently published by another research team. In some cases, dropping conceivably negatively impacts careers. Given obvious awkwardness, group members rarely confront a dropper.
In the past 5 years, about 10 developed projects and manuscripts in which I was involved were dropped, almost invariably by a single person. When the person was a minor contributor, the study usually continued. When a critical player, the project was suspended or discontinued. Don’t get me wrong – I’m not claiming to always be an innocent victim! I’ve dropped many projects over my career and a notable one recently, where one of my collaborators then promised to lead the project...only to subsequently drop it.
To be clear: although having potential consequences, leaving a study is perfectly within one’s rights.
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Although dropping is not new, I would claim it has only achieved norm status since the advent of the Internet. Younger researchers have known nothing different. Mid-age scientists are (arguably) the most likely droppers. Older scientists are typically left behind.
Here are some factors relevant to dropping.
Busy, busy, busy. Admin, teaching, mentoring, research and personal commitments all add up. Time commitments are easily underestimated, imperatives emerge with little or no warning, and priorities themselves change. As responsibilities swell, there comes a point where lower-priority projects simply have to be dropped, or contributions scaled-down. Intensifying this effect is the fact that some projects are riskier than others, behooving researchers to diversify – it’s best to err on the side of engaging in (too) many projects, simply because some will be dropped.
Can’t say no. In the competitive world of science and its ‘evaluation culture’, more is better and vice versa. More papers in better journals mean greater chances of employment, research contracts and career progression. This tends to push scientists – especially young and mid-career – to take on more projects than they can reasonably accomplish. Sometimes this is fueled by the competitive nature of life in research teams. Add to this the magnet of doing new, exciting science with other interesting people, and one has a cocktail for over-committal, delays and occasional drops.
Scientific issues. Scientists bring their own tools and abilities to a collaboration. If one has the choice (unfortunately, some students cannot choose), usually one weighs up the quality of a consortium before joining, but unexpected and sometimes unpleasant surprises may occur. These include important components of a study being overlooked or poorly conducted and – related to this – differences in the perception among collaborators of quality science. Scientific issues can also involve experiments/models not working or not being sufficiently conclusive, or one's inability to achieve expected milestones due to technical or knowledge limitations. Dropping for scientific reasons can be very difficult to communicate to colleagues, since it may call the integrity of one or more of them into question, or, alternatively, mean the admission of one's own (perceived) shortcomings.
Not really knowing your bedfellows. Collaboration is a team effort with members assuming complementary roles. A solid collaboration will have some level of redundancy, that is, if one person is unable to perform duties, then others will fill in. But lasting collaborations are based on trust, which means that the core members know one another sufficiently to get a feel for what each other is thinking, when to regroup and discuss, and when and how to motivate the group. Although embarking on projects with less-known colleagues often is fruitful, these situations are particularly prone to a drop for scientific, personal, or relational reasons, and the likelihood that you (or they!) will think twice about associating in future initiatives.
Power, contracts and mutualism. If you really believe research is only about research, then you are in a small minority. It’s about people too, and PIs, supervisors, senior colleagues, committees... can, and do, exercise power. Power is influence. It binds through contracts and fosters project completion. A good PI never abuses power – she/he leads by respecting and positively motivating other team members. Being a team member is a contract often with concrete deliverables. Each member’s future career benefits from teamwork, which although not preventing an eventual drop, does introduce the expectation of discussion before an irreversible decision is taken. Team- and contract-based collaborations do have their challenges, but are nevertheless the most stable.
Delays and momentum. Some projects only take weeks or months from start to finish, others take years. All else being equal, the longer a study takes, the more risk of a drop. A hiatus of as little as a few weeks or months can spell the death of a febrile or protracted study, for example, should it be led by a student or postdoc who moves to another research team/contract/institute. Project leaders push against delays and inertia by creating enthusiasm and momentum. But trying to rekindle a moribund or dropped project can be futile, only intensifying disappointment and despair at the work lost.
Disposable science. Simply said: ideas don’t make articles. Many ideas are ambiguous, half-baked, not new, or too challenging to turn into research. Even when an idea has potential, it is only the very first step in a series of project milestones that involve hundreds if not thousands of person-hours to complete. Dropping a risky study in its early stages through consensus, can mean considerable time and effort saved by everyone. Those who happen to disagree with the drop are free to continue. Indeed, some dropped projects merit completion, but by the same token, some of those completed should have been dropped!
More projects, more drops. Technology has greatly facilitated scientific productivity. Email, social media and videoconferencing increase interactions and the number of possible projects. In the 1980s, a productive scientist published one or a few articles a year. Nowadays, 10 or more is common. Since the number of abandoned projects is likely to be proportional to those actually published, the fact that we engage in ever-more research means that we are increasingly likely to be exposed to one or more drops, fostering the norm.
Contagion. We typically only know of drops in our own collaborations. Nevertheless, because of the network nature of the scientific community – individual scientists are typically part of many different research collaborations – dropping behavior can be ‘transmitted’ both within and between groups, and, as above, fostering the norm.
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Drops are here to stay. Beyond codes of respect, no one can tell a scientist how to behave. Somewhere in the 'sea of freedoms' lies the right to decide in which projects and how much to invest, and – for whatever reason – whether, when and how to leave.
What concerns me is the changing way that drops occur. Whereas in the past, personal or scientific issues usually generated discussion, and an eventual exit was – even if regrettable – somehow justified, the tendency today is either a dubious one-liner or simply no explanation whatsoever. My fear is that normative dropping behavior risks increasingly tainting collaborations with one’s preparedness to abscond and the expectation that others may do the same.
So, is there a moral?
Thinking more carefully about engaging in a project in the first place and, if engaging, honestly discussing concerns and changing commitments before making an irreversible decision. Although this will not stop drops altogether, it will put a break on frivolous leaving and the downstream damage that some drops can do to others, particularly younger researchers.
Some will think this essay is aimed at them. It’s not: it’s aimed at everyone. All of us drop projects. We would all gain from making this less a norm and more collectively human.
[1] I spent about 500-600 hours of work on each of two solo-author articles from start to finish. [2] The publication of limited or flawed research – when recognized as such – can actually stimulate scientific progress.
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