After reading Scientific American for many years, and having added its web content to my mind diet a few years ago, I have gained a great appreciation for the incisive commentary of much of the readership. In keeping with informal observations and research on social conventions in various modes of communication, letters to the editor (those that are published in SA, at any rate) tend to be well formulated and generally polite. Comments to SA online, particularly to blog posts, are often less constrained. Consider the case of comments to this somewhat unfocused post on nuclear power concerns raised by the Japanese earthquake and tsunami.
Several readers were compelled (perhaps by their NT temperaments–specifically by the high values they ascribe to competence, accuracy, staying on topic, and logical argumentation) to admonish the blogger, and SA, for what they judge to be shoddy scientific journalism.
This sparks an idea for how to possibly leverage the expertise and mental acuity of this community for feats of targeted, distributed cognition. Say I’m writing a research paper, such as a thesis or dissertation plan or report, that would benefit from expert peer review, but that would normally not have access to a competent panel of experts. No problem! Create a pseudonym, sign up with blogging privileges on a scientific web site, and submit my draft as one or more blog entries. Nearly instantaneously, experts begin responding with comments to correct my facts, challenge my arguments, recommend better sources, and provide other insights into how half-baked my draft truly is. Following up on those recommendations should result in a much more coherent, rational, and meaningful product. The true beauty is that obtaining such feedback is free.
What are the caveats? First, the writer must still exert the skillful research effort required to validate the supposed experts’ recommendations. Second, writing under a pseudonym violates a core social convention of scientific collaboration. Such duplicity, if discovered, could make the writer a pariah in the community. Not to mention, what happens on the Web, stays on the Web–forever (in human time). Do you want that evidence of your cognitive confusion and ignorance out there for all to see, like that scar on your forehead from the last time you tried to recreate a Jackass stunt? Lastly, the writer could end up in a situation having outstanding, substantive reference material from the blog posts, yet being unable to cite those inputs, because few if any peer-reviewed journals or university research review panels accept blog entries or comments as legitimate sources. (To the extent commenters provide peer-reviewed, traditionally published references, the latter issue is moot.)
Still, the notion of getting rapid, useful critical reviews of a draft from so simple a technique is intriguing. Perhaps science communities online could officially embrace a blind review process in which researchers (and wannabes) would post their drafts to a blog or other Web service under temporary anonymity (say, two weeks–an eternity on a social network). This period would be open season for any subscribers who wished to provide substantive or administrative corrections and recommendations to the writer, in the form of comments viewable by the readership. Commenters would also be able to correct each other. After the blind review period, the writer of the original post would be revealed and have an opportunity to reply to commenters.