Many scholars face pressure from their academic employers to conduct and publish research. Is the pressure of publishing getting to you? If so, you aren’t alone. Writing and publishing is hard work. It’s like running a marathon, all alone, with no map. The task requires time, energy, and concentration, things many of us don’t have a lot of right now when the world seems so precarious. It’s no wonder sometimes people look for the easier softer way.
Last week I received an email. This exchange ensued. (“Sir” refers to me.)
Dear Sir. I hope you are all right. I just got my M.Phil and would like to convert it to a research article and get it published. Please guide. Regards.
My first thought was, oh, great! Here is a young scholar (I presume the scholar is young; I think it is a safe bet; anyone under sixty is young to me) who wants career advancement and needs my help. Possibly English is not this person’s first language. I need to pull out my culturally sensitive hat. It’s around here somewhere. As I’m rummaging in my mental closet, in a back corner I’m thinking, I wonder how this person found me? I’m definitely not at the top of a Google search. Still, wanting to be helpful, I shoot back a perky reply with some questions to prompt more information and establish a rapport:
Dear Regards. Congratulations on your academic accomplishment. Turning a dissertation or thesis into a journal article is a logical next step. Would you like to share some more about your project? I’m wondering a few things. Where are you? Where did you study? What was your thesis topic? What aspects of the thesis do you think would make good articles? What do you want from me? How can I help? If you can respond with answers to those questions, then we can talk about what to do next. Thanks, Dr. Carol
Almost immediately, I receive the following response:
Dear Sir. Salaam. I am from Pakistan. I did my M.Phil in [Interesting Education Field] at [Name of University]. My topic was [Interesting Topic Related to Students] of [College] in Pakistan. Regards.
Ooh, fun, I think to myself. Something interesting to read and discuss. I wonder how I can help. But I need more information to really get my head around this project. It’s possible that . . . no, I don’t want to think that thought yet. We’ll see what happens. I send off the following somewhat lengthy, totally nosy reply:
Dear Regards. Thank you for sharing a bit about you and your project. A few more questions: Do you have some ideas about what direction an article might take? Journal articles usually take just one aspect of the thesis. Have you worked with an editor before? What is your expectation? What do you specifically need to do next? Do you have something to edit? Have you written an outline of a possible article? Are you looking for coaching? How do you think I could help? Are you comfortable working with someone who is in a different country, with different time zone and currency? Are you comfortable with PayPal? The more specific you are on what you need, the better I can assess if I am able to help you. Thanks, Dr. Carol
Within hours, I receive this:
Dear Sir. I want to convert my thesis into publishable article. I will attach my thesis. Regards.
It’s not surprising the scholar took one look at my barrage of questions, which Google Translate probably butchered, and now can’t think of anything to say except to reiterate the goal, attach the paper, and hope for the best. However, I’m seeing red flags a-rising. Now the hazy edges are starting to come clear. Instead of answering my many valuable and pertinent questions, the scholar is laser-focused on the mission: getting that thing published. I begin to see the true nature of the “project.” Perfectly willing to be smacked down via email, I grit my teeth and send the following:
Dear Regards. Please help me get some clarity on your objective. Do you want me to write an article, based on your thesis? Thanks, Dr. Carol
The answer couldn’t be more clear:
Dear Sir. Yes sir. Regards.
Some hours elapse as I plan my approach. As you can imagine, I have a range of feelings now that I have learned the scholar wants me as a partner in a nefarious cheating scheme. First, I’m outraged, shocked, I tell you, shocked. The nerve! It’s not like I’m a saint, but I was seven and it was arithmetic, I mean, I ask you. However, as an adult scholar with a published dissertation, I certainly did not cheat, obfuscate, plagiarize, fabricate, falsify, or otherwise avoid doing the often-tedious chore of conducting original research, no matter how tired and defeated I felt. Somewhere during my life, I developed integrity.
After enjoying my righteous outrage, my next reaction was compassion. Oh, the poor scholar. I know how hard it is to write. Even for me, except for blogposts, most writing assignments don’t come easy. Let’s see, how can I weasel out of this situation without causing harm or insult? I wrote,
Dear Regards. Thank you. Now I understand. Thank you for clarifying your objective. I’m sorry to say, I would not be capable of writing an article for you. I am not that kind of writer. I don’t write content, I only edit content. That means I edit papers that other people write. I’m sorry it took so long for me to understand. Good luck to you. I hope you find a good writer for your project. Take care, be safe. Thanks, Dr. Carol
Fingers crossed, I say a prayer to Dr. Diss, the patron saint of scholars (just made that up). Let’s hope my scholar friend gets the hint and lets this conversation fade. Nope. One more email:
Dear Sir. Thank you for your response. Is there any one in your contacts to do it for me. Regards.
Okay. Now I need to come clean with my correspondent. I don’t want to give this person the impression that (a) it’s okay to ask editors to write scholarly content, (b) that people do this all the time, (c) that I have friends who will ghostwrite an article, and (d) probably most important, that I won’t write the article because I’m not competent enough to do it. Sadly, I suspect this kind of scholarly cheating happens frequently. Most of us have our price. I’ve never done it. I wonder how much it would take to motivate me to cheat. Hmm. Let me give that some thought.
I pull up my big dissertator britches, limber up my digits, and let my correspondent have it:
Dear Regards. I’m sorry, I don’t know anyone who would write an article for you. You are the expert on your topic so you are the one best able to choose what angle of your thesis topic would make a good article. I would imagine several topics could come out of your thesis. Think about your long-term career direction when you consider which topics to focus on. I’m going to be honest with you. Paying someone else to do your writing for you is not good scholarship. I could not in good conscience help you with that. As scholars, we succeed on our own merits. Editing is different from writing. Writing is tough sometimes. But that is the job of being a scholar. I encourage you to write an outline and a draft of an article and THEN send it to someone to edit. I’m semi-retired, so I’m not doing much editing these days. There are many editing companies that could help. Good luck to you. Thanks, Dr. Carol
And the final response:
Dear Sir. Thank you for your elaborate response. I will try but too much over work. Sir, from which you belong. Regards.
I could have added one last snarky parting shot: Hey, I took the trouble to look up your first name to discover your likely gender; did you do as much for me? No. Well, it’s not the first time I’ve been called “sir.”
So much for rapport. I get it. This poor scholar is probably dealing with COVID fears, homeschooling, and boredom—and now, the pressure of publishing! It’s too much. No argument from me. I am settling my compassion hat more firmly on my head. We all need more compassion right now.
Still, there’s no excuse for bad scholarship, cheating, or plagiarism. Giving in to those temptations might relieve short-term pressure but will not help anyone in the long run. Winning the long game of academia requires willingness, integrity, and grit. Yes, it’s hard during a pandemic, but writing is hard, pandemic or not. Don’t waste this terrible but uniquely precious creative time. The world needs your research!
