Editor’s Note: On September 12, the law firm of Lieff, Cabraser, Heimann, and Bernstein announced antitrust litigation against six publishers: Elsevier, Springer Nature, Taylor and Francis, Sage, Wiley, and Wolters Kluwer. The plaintiff in the case is a UCLA researcher, Lucina Uddin, and the complaint can be read in full here. We reached out to the Scholarly Kitchen Chefs and members of the community for their thoughts on this litigation.

Lisa Janicke Hinchliffe

This lawsuit presents a wide range of topics for potential consideration and comment. Unless immediately found by the courts to be without merit, we can anticipate a fairly lengthy process ahead of us with a resolution far in the future and much time for additional observations as it progresses. As such, let me today focus on one particular claim — that the named publishers have conspired to set the payment for peer review at zero. I’ll start by observing that something can be commonly done without there being a conspiracy to do so. If paying peer reviewers would be a competitive advantage, one might expect that the new entrants to the industry that have displaced previous members of the “top five” would have done so as part of their strategies. But, I also am pondering how the collusion claim will hold up given that one of the named defendants, Springer Nature, “initially bought a minority share in AJE LLC in 2016, a majority share in 2018, and completed a 100% acquisition in 2022,” since then selling it to MPS. Why does this matter? Because AJE LLC offers a particular service, Research Quality Evaluation, that “is designed to recognize reviewers for their contributions to the literature and to improve the speed of peer review to make communication faster, fairer, and more useful” and that pays reviewers an honorarium for reviewing. Moreover, in addition to this involvement by Springer Nature, at least Taylor & Francis has also used the Research Quality Evaluation service (a full client list of AJE does not appear to be publicly available so others named in the lawsuit may have used the service as well but I haven’t been able to confirm that one way or the other). It would seem odd to invest in, own, or use the services of a company to pay peer reviewers if one was conspiring to … not pay peer reviewers.

Sven Fund

The class action lawsuit filed last week by Lucina Uddin points to a viral issue in our industry. While my lack of legal training prevents me from assessing the merits of the suit, here’s a look at its broader implications.

The plaintiff accuses six publishers and 50 co-defendants of using a cartel coordinated by the STM Organization to force scientists to review for free and prevent competition for manuscripts through a ‘single submission’ rule. Researchers are also prohibited from disclosing manuscript contents – research – during submission. This amounts to a global crisis in academic labor practices: Researchers end up overworked and undercompensated.

Why is Lucina Uddin, apparently not a loser in academic publishing, suing scientific publishers? Why now? Is the timing coincidental or deliberate in the week that Springer Nature’s planned IPO was announced?

The lawsuit has a distinctly programmatic tone, attacking industry practices that scientists have long deplored but that regularly surprise outsiders. Large publishers receive the basis of their value creation free of charge thanks to publicly and privately funded research. In addition, the colleagues of these researchers provide free quality assurance via ‘unpaid’ peer review. A modern paradise of milk and honey.

Uddin’s argument overlooks the fact that researchers do receive remuneration, albeit a rather indirect one that is most comparable to Bourdieu’s social capital.

How functional has this cartel been? Would new competitors like MDPI and Frontiers have been able to rise at all if it had developed the power Uddin assumes? Aren’t low barriers to entry a feature of the scholarly publishing market?

Regardless of its legal validity, the lawsuit is likely have an explosive societal effect. This will not be the first time that changes sought by legal means have forced economic actors to change policies.

Publishers must accept the criticism that they offer too little to reviewers – as evidenced by low (and constantly falling) acceptance rates of “invitations” to review. And yet, they react inadequately, searching for technical solutions – which have virtually no effect and do not solve the problem.

These issues are clear:

• Peer review is invisible; no social capital is exchanged — unlike in article publishing;
• Peer review is completely non-standardized; each journal (even across publishers) has its own procedures and requirements. This makes the process unnecessarily long and cumbersome;
• Payment for peer review is often branded as unethical or impossibly expensive – although it is already quite common for books and models for journal article payment are already in place. Models that allow for economic remuneration without direct financial payments, including the rewarding of tokens, discounts on publication fees, books, and post-publication services, are also widely operational.

Lucina Uddin’s complaint reminds academic publishers in a sharp, sometimes polemical, tone that no industry can operate at the long-term expense of its users. Publishers should take up the challenge and become more scholarly, including in the area of peer review. Not just legal issues are at stake, but the legitimacy of business models in scholarly publishing.

David Crotty

First, the important caveat that I am not a lawyer and cannot offer legal advice. That said, it’s hard to know where to begin with this lawsuit, as the filing is filled with contradictory arguments and inaccurate statements. For example, the complaint seems to confuse pre- and post-publication embargoes. The filing document mixes up journal embargoes toward posting a freely-available version of an already published article in a repository with the idea of embargoing an article pre-publication to accompany a press release (a practice which rarely exists these days, given that all of the named defendants support the public posting of preprints all the way up to the point of article acceptance). There is no 12-24 month “pre-publication embargo”, such a statement is nonsensical.

In one section, the lawsuit states that terrible harm is being caused by a “peer review crisis” of overworked reviewers, yet argues elsewhere that authors should be free to submit their papers to an unlimited number of journals simultaneously, which would massively increase the amount of peer review that needs to be performed and exacerbate that very same crisis. The filing offers polemics decrying the high costs of subscriptions and APCs yet proposes a solution (paying peer reviewers) that would add, at minimum, an estimated $4,000 to the cost of every single one of millions of articles.

The lawsuit claims researchers are “forced” to perform peer review, yet every defendant is quoted as describing peer review as “voluntary”, and there is no evidence offered that any penalty is imposed on a researcher who declines such a request, because in reality there is no penalty imposed. Researchers turn down peer review invitations all the time, and the vast majority of authors never peer review even a single paper, and yet this does not inhibit their ability to publish nor harm their careers in any way.

The lawsuit seems to revolve around a document from the STM Association from 2013, which is odd in that the practices described were all long established decades before then, and decades before the STM Association existed (the Ingelfinger Rule, for example dates back to at least 1960). It’s fascinating to me that as someone who served two terms on the STM Board of Directors beginning in 2015, I had no idea that document even existed until I learned about it via the lawsuit, nor, as far as I can recall, were any of the activities alleged as conspiratorial ever discussed at any Board meeting during any point of my tenure. Every STM Board meeting always had a lawyer in the room keeping an eagle-eyed watch to immediately put a halt to any discussion that might even vaguely touch on competition law. That must be one seriously deep conspiracy if even the masterminds behind it were unaware that it was happening.

I could go on…

But at the heart of the lawsuit is an inherent failure to understand the very nature of scholarly publishing — that it is a service industry, not a product-based industry. Simply put, there are processes that researchers are required to go through in order to further their careers. Publishers supply services to help researchers meet those needs. Researchers can pay for those services directly (e.g., through an APC), find someone else to pay the bills (e.g., through a Diamond open access journal), or forego monetary payment and instead receive the services for a grant of rights which the publisher can then use to recoup the costs involved (and ideally make some surplus). The requirements for these activities and the career reward the chosen outlet offers come not from publishers, but from the employers and funders of those same researchers. Perhaps the plaintiff has chosen the wrong set of defendants here, and should instead target their ire and legal activities at the forces behind the career and funding structure of academia that put researchers in such a difficult position.

As others in this post note, there remain long-running and newly arisen problems in the world of scholarly communication. This lawsuit is, in my opinion (which, I repeat, is entirely free from legal expertise), a frivolous distraction from real efforts to improve things.

Sami Benchekroun

While I do not intend to delve into the legal complexities of the class action against prominent academic publishers, this case invites an important reflection on the broader dynamics of the scholarly publishing industry. Organizations such as the International Association of Scientific, Technical, and Medical Publishers (STM) have a significant role to play in shaping the future of this ecosystem. With its influence, STM holds a unique opportunity to be a catalyst for positive change, driving higher market dynamics and fostering innovation, particularly in areas like research integrity. By supporting initiatives such as data lakes and encouraging a rich marketplace of technology players, STM could help ensure that the industry remains adaptive and forward-thinking.

Rather than focusing on past practices, it’s essential to look at how organizations like STM can enable a more open and collaborative environment. While the industry’s historical structures have provided stability, times have changed, and the landscape is now defined by rapid technological advancements and a need for greater inclusivity. STM, with its unique position, can help facilitate the entrance of new market participants — whether they be technology companies, data service providers, or other innovators — and foster a competitive, dynamic ecosystem that benefits all stakeholders.

This class action is an opportunity to highlight a fundamental issue that transcends legalities — is it legitimate to continue with the current trajectory of the scholarly ecosystem? One of the most common arguments from various market participants is, “we’ve always done it this way.” However, this line of thinking no longer holds weight. Times have changed, and so have the market dynamics and technological advancements that shape the ecosystem. The rapid growth of digital technologies, data-driven solutions, and AI-based innovations have dramatically altered the landscape, and we must adapt accordingly. The publishing industry, along with other stakeholders, can no longer rely on historical practices to justify current approaches. The argument that “it has always been that way” simply does not resonate in today’s fast-evolving environment.

In times of crisis, such as the COVID-19 pandemic, we witnessed the industry’s ability to move quickly and effectively. This was a reminder of how agile and responsive academic publishing can be when urgency demands it. However, the reality is that we are constantly living in times of crisis. Whether it’s the climate emergency, the pervasive spread of misinformation and disinformation, or other global challenges, the need for rapid scientific dissemination remains constant. Yet, the pace and openness required to tackle these challenges often lag behind.

As funders introduce new mandates and nonprofit societies struggle to stay independent, the pressing question becomes not only whether the status quo is legal, but whether it is sustainable and ethical. Can we, as a global community, justify the current system when there is so much at stake? There is a growing recognition that a more diverse, competitive, and open publishing environment — one that includes not just scholarly publishers but also technology companies and innovators — could foster the solutions we need to address the world’s biggest problems.

This moment calls for bold, transformative changes. A richer, more inclusive marketplace for scholarly communication must emerge, incorporating new technologies, platforms, and data-driven solutions alongside traditional players. However, it should be built on principles of clear governance and a commitment to global scientific advancement. Science and research must serve the public good, and we must prioritize solving the most urgent challenges of our time. This will only happen if we actively work to create an ecosystem that encourages collaboration, innovation, and accessibility for all.

To borrow from history, as John F. Kennedy once said, “The time to repair the roof is when the sun is shining.” We may not always be in the midst of a global pandemic, but we are continuously faced with global crises. Let this be the moment we choose to act decisively, with a focus on creating a system that truly works in the service of the world.

Rick Anderson

I’m nothing even close to an expert on antitrust law, so although several aspects of this complaint struck me as fairly risible, I had no plan to try to say anything of substance about it – at least, not in a public forum. But then a colleague tipped me off that I’m indirectly implicated in the complaint, so I thought I’d go ahead and weigh in.

In support of her argument, the complainant cites a debate program that I organized as part of the Researcher to Reader Conference in 2021. The proposition under debate was “Resolved: Journal publishers should pay academics for providing peer review.” In support of her position, the complainant cites the fact that this debate featured Taylor & Francis senior vice president Brad Fenwick (now, sadly, deceased), who argued in favor of the proposition. From this fact, the complainant draws the conclusion that “even the Publisher Defendants’ own executives recognize that paying peer reviewers is the solution to the peer review crisis.” This conclusion is mistaken, however. While the complainant does note that Dr. Fenwick made clear at the outset that he was not speaking on behalf of Taylor & Francis, she fails to acknowledge that he further explained that his arguments (and those of his debating partner) were “not necessarily representative of (their) personal views.” Rather, he and his partner saw the debate as “an opportunity to extend new considerations that will address limitations of the current publishing process.” As a matter of fact, I know from my experience as the organizer and moderator of the debate that Fenwick was putting forward – at my request –  a position that did not represent his own opinion, for the purpose of helping us explore an interesting and controversial idea. In other words, this Publisher Defendant’s executive did not, in fact, believe that “paying peer reviewers is the solution to the peer review crisis.”

I do also have to wonder whether the complainant noted the outcome of the debate, which was an unusually decisive defeat for the proposition that peer reviewers should be paid. Before the debate, the audience was polled to determine its degree of agreement with the proposition, and the vote was 41% in favor and 59% against. After the debate, it was 16% in favor and 84% against. Even if Dr. Fenwick had been arguing from his own firmly held personal opinion, it was a minority view to begin with and it was even more decisively outnumbered by the end of the exercise.

Matt Hodgkinson

I understand reaching for a legal solution rather than collective action, because organizing academics is like herding cats: witness the failure of the PLOS petition and the Cost of Knowledge boycott. However, the case here seems weak and to be fighting a strawman.

No publisher can coerce researchers to review. I admit as an editor I once left the printout of a revised manuscript in a late reviewer’s university pigeonhole — but I always drew the line at threats and stalking. Outside unusual set-ups like PeerJ’s old membership model, there’s no requirement to review or edit for a journal in order to publish there. On the contrary, many publishers offer timely reviewers incentives like discounts on publication charges.

It has become harder to find reviewers, but two factors have kept the market price of reviewing at zero. First, there’s usually plenty more fish in the sea. Second, if an editor does draw a blank they often assume there’s something wrong and the submission is withdrawn. Absent a submission fee, which is rare, journals have no incentive to persist in finding elusive experts — let alone paying them and sending good money after bad.

There are isolated examples of paid review, such as statistical review in medical journals, though overseeing this takes time and effort as I know from experience. Journals want a good return, so stop using paid reviewers who don’t pull their weight. Researchers and doctors may find the bureaucracy around accepting relatively small payments not worth their while, which is why the BMJ ended their £50 payment with no outcry.

Journals fiercely compete for submissions, it’s just that they’re not made at the same time. Not allowing simultaneous submissions avoids a race to the bottom over each article, which the journals that cut the most corners would win. We already see this when authors submit to both a reputable and a predatory journal. Journals would be incentivized to use fewer reviewers and rounds of revision to secure each publication; authors could more easily disregard unwelcome but rigorous critiques. There’d be more waste as different editors scrambled for the same pool of qualified peers, and there’d be more examples of dual publication due to miscommunication.

There is usually only a restriction on authors publicly discussing their work in the narrow window between acceptance and publication, partly to avoid ruining press embargoes. Many journals allow preprints, which are freely discussed in the media and on social media while under submission to journals.

Academics are far from the only profession to employ volunteerism, such as open source software, pro bono lawyers, and the many publishing professionals, such as myself, who volunteer for bodies like COPE, EASE, ALPSP, ISMTE, CSE, ICMJE, CSE, WAME, SSP, DOAJ, and OASPA — or who agree to provide comments to a journalist or a blog without charge. Not everything with a value necessarily has a price.

A.J. Boston

The federal antitrust lawsuit brought by Dr. Lucina Uddin against Elsevier, Wolters Kluwer, Wiley, Taylor & Francis, Springer Nature, and STM weaves together some long standing complaints about scholarly publishing (oligopoly?, slow review process, Ingelfinger, unpaid peer review) into a novel legal argument. Novel as it may be the argument does not look very convincing, even to me, someone who sympathizes with the positions. Maybe a jury will hear something different than me.

For now, I am happy to share an edit of my early reaction to the “three main components” described in Lieff Cabraser’s press release.

The first component alleges that unpaid labor of peer review is explicitly linked to a reviewer’s “ability to get their manuscripts published in the defendants’ preeminent journals.” I find it doubtful that explicit wording of such a proposition will be found. (What is more likely to turn up are offers of free limited-time journal access and platitudes about strengthening science.) Maybe instead you show a correlation between individuals’ peer review activity and their publication success. Is this proof of an unspoken promise? Or is it a predictable outcome of reviewers who stay on top of new papers and have a working knowledge of what passes at a journal? And what about authors who successfully publish without conducting peer review? What about the journals not named in this suit who display similar patterns of behavior?

Next, the second component alleges that a single journal submission system is a scheme to reduce competition among journals which disincentivizes a prompt peer review process. Again, how do you separate the defendants’ practice of single journal submission from most every other journal? What about the competition that takes place among journals prior to submission? One of the few academic disciplines that allows multiple submissions is law scholarship. There, the review process is certainly prompt, but whether it makes for a more “meritorious” system is quite a different story.

Finally, the third component alleges the named publishers “prohibit scholars from freely sharing the scientific advancements described in submitted manuscripts while those manuscripts are under peer review, a process that often takes over a year.” The key part of this allegation is “while those manuscripts are under peer review” because prior to submission all of these publishers allow preprinting in most cases. What even constitutes “freely sharing scientific advancements described in submitted manuscripts”? Do authors sign an NDA to not discuss their work at conferences and or deposit their data in a repository?

In conclusion, this is a weak case that is unlikely to go far. I wouldn’t call it completely pointless because it has the potential to definitively put to rest certain outdated points of discourse. Plus, tidbits of intrigue might surface in discovery if the process ever got there. A best case scenario, in my opinion, is if publishers point to their current preprint policies. Making that part of their defense might mean that the right to share preprints ahead of submission may remain a fee-free activity for authors.

Alison Mudditt

The first thing I would like to do is acknowledge the significance of this moment. Over the years, we have managed to shrug off mass resignation of editorial boards, boycotts of specific publishers, and general grumbling about the shortcomings and failures of our current system of publication. What we see here is a group of researchers so frustrated that they have taken major legal action to try to address the stranglehold they are in. While I agree that there are flaws in their arguments and perhaps better grounds on which to challenge publishers, my plea to us as an industry is that we hear, rather than dismiss, a set of genuine grievances about a broken system.

That said, my primary concern about this lawsuit is that it’s barking up the wrong tree. We may well ask why, if researchers find the current system so odious, don’t more of them publish in journals/with publishers that are more aligned with their values. The real misalignment at the heart of all of this is that researchers are obliged to publish in “prestige” journals – many of which are controlled by these six publishers – as a necessary step to secure jobs and funding. This is a systemic problem that wasn’t created by publishers (well, with the possible exception of Robert Maxwell) – although as evidenced by the profit margins outlined in the lawsuit, it has certainly been exploited by many of them.

Articles are not only the major (and almost exclusive) unit measuring research achievements for researchers but under Gold OA, they have become the unit of revenue for publishers. This combination creates only two models for competition: (i) competition for volume – the ‘article economy’, or (ii) competition for prestige  – the ‘prestige economy’. The competitive models currently co-exist and neither one is good for research. We have a vicious circle of some publishers seeking to increase profit through article growth, researchers focused on advancing their careers through prestige publication, and universities desperate to climb the rankings.

Unfortunately, even if successful, this lawsuit will do little to address this toxic mix. If researchers truly want to reduce the market power of the largest publishers, they need to break their dependence on them for purposes of evaluation and career advancement. But the burden for driving systemic change cannot lie with researchers alone. I sincerely hope that this will serve as a moment for introspection in the scholarly publishing community, and then for us to move forward as active partners in building a publishing ecosystem that better reflects 21^stcentury research practices and values.