Of Gifts and Ghosts: Why Common Authorship Practices in Science Need to Be Reconsidered

To the regular readers of my editorials (if there are any) I am probably not revealing anything new, but I love language. I would describe myself as a literature enthusiast; I feel the comfort of polished language almost physically, and definitely the pain that clumsy phrases induce. Recently I read The Anomaly, an award-winning blend of thriller and comedy, bordering on the grotesque. A very inspiring read, by the way. The book was written by French novelist Hervé Le Tellier. At least I have no reason to doubt it; after all, the publisher lists him as the author and he appears on the cover and in the imprint. And the author of a publication is, after all, the one who wrote it, who has tossed and turned countless nights struggling to find the right wording, the subtle twists in the narrative, and the all-encompassing message that the reader should take away. Presumably, most of humanity agrees on that. Except science, of course.

This is because, unlike presumably in all other fields, the question of authorship is a battleground of science, a source of endless dispute, lifelong camaraderie, but also lifelong enmity.

For while Albert Einstein single-handedly wrote down his special theory of relativity in On the Electrodynamics of Moving Bodies, and thus there is little doubt about his authorship, in the case of some of today's basic research articles, whose lists of authors often no longer fit on a single page, skepticism is definitely warranted as to whether all these scientists really contributed anything to the actual writing of the article. One can benevolently assume that they have at least contributed intellectually, perhaps also quite practically, for example in setting up or carrying out experiments.

Often, however, one has to fear that some “authors” on scientific publications only get this rank because they are just the boss of the first author. Or because the boss of the first author owes them a favor. Especially in the field of medicine, where many scientists (have to) do this actually 150% job part-time besides their clinical work, such a gift authorship is not uncommon. There are also said to be agreements to “include each other on papers,” a wording that lends this act of cartel-like scientific fraud such a cute harmlessness that one can hardly be angry.

Certainly, this applies even more to the increasing number of South Korean scientists who have named their children as “co-authors” on their publications. ² Not to test the limits, to see what we journal editors will even notice, and at what level of audacity the scientific community can finally bring itself to say, cautiously, “This might be going a little too far.” No, quite simply out of parental concern to give their offspring the best possible start to a potential career in science. Who would not love to start graduate school with a few high-ranking publications? If at all, this can only be surpassed by directly giving the offspring the first name “Doctor.”

Perhaps even more annoying than such gift authorships are ghost authorships. Here, scientists who have contributed substantially to the project are not invited as authors, sometimes even subsequently removed from articles they actually coauthored. This can have various reasons, but one is always that the person who had this idea has a very questionable moral understanding.

I have experienced both of these forms of systematic scientific fraud myself to a sufficient degree, as presumably all researchers in the medical sciences have. In some cases even in parallel: when young PhD or MSc students are denied authorship to make room for the senior physician, who after all was present in one of the hundred study meetings, looked important and occasionally even deliberately weighed the head back and forth. In other words, clearly deserved a gift authorship, if necessary at the expense of the student, thereby becoming a ghost author. And even simply “including additional authors on the paper” without deleting others is harmful—and again, especially to young scientists. This is because each additional author has been shown to diminish for the reader the subjectively perceived contribution of the other authors. And this applies to all authors—except for the senior author. ³ Which is quite convenient, since the senior author is usually the one who pushes the additional author through.

And although I had hoped never to have to encounter these lousy practices again now, as head of my own research group, I am of course not spared such as an editor. And this should come as no surprise, since even in the highest-tier medical journals, more than one in five articles feature gift and/or ghost authorships. ⁴ Two cases in particular stood out in my first 12 months at The Journal of Integrative and Complementary Medicine (JICM): in one case, the authors could not agree on an appropriate title after submission. Since one of the authors did not want to give the go-ahead for the revision without a title change, the corresponding author, not liking this idea at all, quite pragmatically suggested to just delete this author instead.

In another case, one of the authors had moved to an unknown address and was, therefore, unable to sign the copyright agreement. Here, too, the corresponding author's quick and pragmatic solution was to remove this author from the article. The problem? Well, either of these persons have systematically and verifiably contributed to the article and thus are and will be authors. Or they have not, in which case they should never have been named as authors. Fortunately, there are clear guidelines as to when someone is an author—and when they are not. And since I love such good scientific guidelines almost as much as good literary language, here are the four authorship criteria of the International Committee of Medical Journal Editors (ICMJE), which JICM supports and requires our authors to apply:

“Substantial contributions to the conception or design of the work; or the acquisition, analysis, or interpretation of data for the work; AND

Any person listed as an author must necessarily meet all four of the aforementioned criteria. And every person who fulfills all four criteria mentioned should necessarily be listed as an author. Even more, any person who fulfills criterion 1, that is who has contributed substantially to the research project, should also be given the opportunity to fulfill criteria 2–4, and thus become an author of the publication. Lesser, although often important, contributions do not qualify someone as an author. Raising funds, creating graphs, proofreading, or simply being the boss is not enough. For such contributions, there are Acknowledgments, a section we all value far too little.

Publications are the currency on which young researchers live, the only reward for the absurd decision to devote one's life to science, and often the only hope for tenure at some point in the future. We should not destroy this hope by forcing ghost authorships or devalue achievements by handing out gift authorships like candy.