Open research computation (ORC) was an attempt to create a scientific publication promoting high-quality and open source scientific code. The project went public in falls 2010, but last month, facing the low volume of submission, the editorial board chose to reorient it as a special track of an existing journal.
The challenges that we face are discussed in our editorial:
Changing computational research. The challenges ahead. C Neylon, J Aerts, CT Brown, D Lemire, J Millman, P Murray-Rust, F Perez, N Saunders, A Smith, G Varoquaux and E Willighagen, Source Code for Biology and Medicine 2012, 7:20
Here is my own personal take on the rise and fall of this ideal.
My story with ORC
From pipe dream to journal - My involvement with ORC started long before there was such a thing as ORC. In falls 2008, I had a discussion with a friend working in the publication industry, telling her how I believed that the publication system is broken, because it promotes new results without any interest on whether these can be exported outside the lab that produced them: it is currently easier to publish a minor but novel result than a tool enabling the routine reproduction of previous results. This seemed particularly marked in the scientific software world, as software tools are becoming central to the scientific workflow, and cost nothing to duplicate when produced under open-source license. To my surprise, she took me seriously, and asked me to write my ideas down in an email that she would forward to her colleagues in the publication industry.
Looking back at the email that I send, my concerns were, back then, to promote:
- quality and openness of scientific software
- basic tools shared across communities
- recognition of software development as a challenging and worthwhile task in academic research
Shaping the idea - In the year that followed, I had a few discussions with staff from BioMedCentral, an open-access publisher in biology and medicine that was looking into expending in the physics and math related fields. Eventually, my contact there told me that they had other similar requests and were launching a journal that would be lead by Cameron Neylon, a British biophysicist and strong advocate of openness and reproducibility in science. This was the start of ORC, and for me the chance to meet other people sharing my concerns, some new and some already old friends.
Setting up the journal - BioMedCentral was instrumental in setting up the journal project. I quickly learned that, no surprises, a journal is a product, like anything else, and it must find customers. Here, as we were launching an open access journal, the customers were authors. This is where a journal faces a chicken and egg problem: to be recognised it needs high-visibility publications, but authors will submit only to journals that they know. The main tool to overcome this challenge are communication and advocacy. I then realized that these really weren’t my strong points. Cameron Neylon absolutely shined on this side, with very enthusiastic communications and an incredibly active twitter account. On my side, I am a slow writer, and I tend to speak Python code better than English language, which is not a strong asset to be a journal editor.
Wild editorial discussions - The discussions in the editorial board really thrilled me because they were centered on how to set standards to improve the quality of code published. Looking in my mailbox, I see discussions about code repositories, software testing, documentation or licensing issues. This is not that surprising, given that a lot of the editors where actually contributors to major software projects. It made me very happy, as I have the feeling that, so far, most committees or decision makers are clueless about software.
Sand in the gears: the lack of uptake
A false start - So ORC was launched late 2010 and we had fantastic feedback. I had the feeling that people were genuinely excited about our program: changing the way computational science worked from the inside, through the review process. The idea was that we had opened a pre-submission call, and were waiting for a few good papers to be submitted to launch the journal. However, it turned out that the papers were slow to come. It took me a while to realize that there was something wrong. But slowly we had to face the truth: many people were excited about the journal, but most were sending their papers elsewhere.
What went wrong? - If I really knew what went wrong, I would probably not be discussing it here, but rather changing the world. However, I can come up with a few guesses:
- Working across communities is harder. From the beginning we had wanted to position the journal across communities, in order to foster the sharing of tools for a greater good. The challenge is that a central role of publication is nowadays to provide recognition. It is much easier to achieve recognition in a given community than across communities, and authors always preferred submitting their work to a non-software oriented journal in their field. We couldn’t fight together the battle for software quality and the battle for inter-community work.
- Setting the bar too high. Many felt that the submission requirements that where too demanding, as expressed on a NeuroImaging forumn to quote a researcher: “I think it’s setting the bar unrealistically high for most neuroimaging software”. While we had originally shot for a very high test coverage (probably too high), we had scaled it back quickly, simply stressing that editors and reviewers would be looking closely at test coverage, documentation and ease of installation. That said, the average researcher did not share our ideals of raising the quality of scientific software. Trying to ask only for excellent publications in a new and unproven journal was probably unrealistic.
- Editors not willing to game the system. I have watched a few journal launches, and it seems to me that a common trick is to line up articles that are created by the editors and their friends specifically for the new journal. People come up with opinion papers, reviews, commentaries that only serve to generate an identity to the journal. This did not happen for ORC, and I believe that it is because the editors themselves were not huge fans of the low signal-to-noise ratio in modern scientific publishing practice.
The times they are a changing
ORC is dead, long live ORC - We did get a few submissions. ORC is not coming to an end, it is morphing into a special thematic series in source code for biology and medicine. This solution is not completely satisfactory, as it pushes what should have been a forum for exposing good practices and good software into a smaller community. But at least there is now a venue in which people can publish a paper about software that they have been improving and maintaining, and not only about a new algorithm.
Changing practices across the board - Among the reasons for which we had a hard time making a breakthrough, is that authors where sending their software papers to other journals, in particular journals not specialized on software. While these papers are not getting the attention of a review and editorial team expert on software development, as we are setting up with ORC, this is still a good thing. Indeed it shows that the times are changing and that recognition of software as a scientific work is improving. I have been impressed to see that many high profile journals have changed their editorial policies to specifically accept software papers, or have create tracks dedicated to software.
Software is being slowly recognized as a pillar of modern scientific research. We need to keep pushing to make sure that quality standards are set and that the open-source scientific software grows into a mature ecosystem focused on problem solving.