How Greedy Academic Publishers Help Predatory Journals Thrive (And Why No One’s Stopping Them)

Table of Contents

Introduction

Predatory journals are the cockroaches of academic publishing. Universally condemned but remarkably resilient, they promise quick publication, fake peer review, and a smooth ride to academic legitimacy—for a fee. They’re the parasites of scholarly communication, but they’re thriving in part because the host itself is sick.

Behind this plague lies a deeper, more uncomfortable truth: the elite publishing houses—Elsevier, Wiley, Springer Nature, and others—helped build the very environment that makes predatory publishing so profitable. By turning knowledge into a commodity, prestige into currency, and gatekeeping into a billion-dollar industry, these traditional publishers laid the blueprint for exploitation.

This article examines the tangled relationship between the greed of reputable academic publishers and the rise of predatory journals. It also explores how the system encourages this dysfunction, why artificial intelligence may soon pour gasoline on the fire, and what meaningful reform would really require. Spoiler alert: it’s not another task force or ethics pledge.

A Brief History of Predatory Publishing

The term “predatory journal” was popularized by librarian Jeffrey Beall in 2010. At the time, open access publishing was gaining traction, promising to democratize research access. But it didn’t take long for unscrupulous actors to spot an opportunity.

Initially, these journals were easy to spot—unprofessional websites, broken English, and absurd editorial boards. One journal proudly listed a dog as its editor. Another accepted a completely nonsensical manuscript filled with “Lorem Ipsum” filler text.

But they’ve evolved. Fast. Today’s predatory journals have professional-looking websites, fake indexing claims, and editorial boards featuring real scholars (often without their knowledge). Some even start out legitimate, then get hijacked or degraded over time. This is no longer a fringe problem—it’s a full-blown publishing underworld.

How Big Publishers Set the Perfect Trap

Paywalls and Profiteering

Academic publishing used to be a relatively modest enterprise. University presses and nonprofit journals shared knowledge among peers. That changed in the 1980s and 1990s when commercial giants entered the scene, gobbling up titles and turning journals into high-margin products.

Today, academic publishers routinely charge $30–$60 for individual articles and millions for annual subscriptions. In 2024, RELX (Elsevier’s parent company) reported profits exceeding $2.4 billion. The product? Research that was mostly funded by public money and written, edited, and reviewed for free by academics.

This privatization of access planted the seeds of frustration and inequality and made the open access movement not only desirable but inevitable.

Open Access, But at a Price

When open access caught on, publishers didn’t resist. They adapted. Sort of.

They began offering “gold open access”—make your article freely available to readers… if you pay Article Processing Charges (APCs). And those APCs aren’t small. Some journals charge $3,000–$11,000 per article. In theory, this covers the costs of peer review, editing, and hosting. In practice, it’s often a profit generator.

For researchers in wealthier institutions, this might be inconvenient. For scholars in developing countries, it’s exclusionary. And when paying to publish becomes normalized, the floodgates open to anyone willing to take that model and remove the pesky peer review part.

Gatekeeping and Prestige Addiction

The academic career path is increasingly tied to journal metrics. Researchers are expected to publish in “Q1” journals, often with impact factors above a certain threshold. These journals accept a fraction of submissions and often take months (or years) to publish accepted papers.

As the stakes get higher, authors grow more desperate. Rejected repeatedly, they look for quicker, easier alternatives. And predators offer exactly that.

Some predatory journals boast acceptance within two weeks and publish issues every few days. They market directly to researchers through spam emails that flatter, mislead, and exploit. The demand exists because the system fuels it.

Real-World Consequences: A Global Problem

Predatory publishing isn’t just a theoretical concern—it has real-world consequences that disproportionately harm scholars from low- and middle-income countries.

Case Study: India

In India, researchers face aggressive publication requirements for faculty promotion and tenure. Until recently, the UGC (University Grants Commission) maintained a whitelist of journals, many of which were revealed to be predatory or questionable. Even after revisions, scams persisted.

The pressure to publish, combined with weak institutional oversight, led to an explosion in low-quality or fraudulent research being accepted, published, and cited—all under the guise of legitimate scholarship.

Case Study: Africa

In many African countries, the lack of national-level publishing infrastructure means scholars must publish abroad. Predatory journals exploit this imbalance, promising international visibility while delivering little more than digital landfill. Worse still, institutions sometimes lack the expertise to distinguish good journals from bad ones, leading to promotions based on fraudulent output.

Case Study: Global North, Too

Don’t think for a second that this is a developing world problem. Scholars in the U.S., U.K., and Europe have all been caught publishing in predatory outlets—sometimes intentionally, sometimes out of ignorance. Even elite institutions aren’t immune. The system doesn’t just reward publication—it rarely scrutinizes where that publication occurs.

AI: The New Weapon of Mass Publication

Artificial intelligence is about to blow the lid off the publishing problem.

Fake Papers, Real Profits

Generative AI tools like ChatGPT, Claude, and Gemini can now produce convincing scientific articles. Add tools like Scite or Semantic Scholar for citation padding; anyone can assemble a “research paper” on a Tuesday afternoon.

Predatory publishers are already cashing in. They don’t care if the paper is AI-generated, plagiarized, or flat-out fake. If the formatting looks good and the payment clears, it’s going online.

One journal recently published over 150 articles in a single week. Peer-reviewed? Not likely. But cited? Sometimes, yes. That’s the real danger—this junk gets indexed, linked, and sometimes even used in policy or future research.

AI in the Wrong Hands

Predatory journals are beginning to use AI not just for content, but for operations:

  • Chatbots posing as editorial assistants
  • Fake peer reviews written by language models
  • Deepfake profile pictures for editorial board members
  • Automated citation boosting using networked fake articles

We’re headed toward a scenario where fake authors submit fake papers to fake journals run by fake editors, and no one notices—because the volume is overwhelming and detection tools lag behind.

And don’t assume reputable journals are immune. They’re already seeing surges in AI-generated submissions. Editors admit they struggle to spot synthetic research, especially when reviewers are too busy or lenient.

The Failure of Oversight: Indexing, Blacklists, and Bureaucracy

Despite a decade of warnings, the academic world still lacks an effective response to predatory publishing.

Indexing Isn’t Immunity

Journals indexed in Scopus, Web of Science, or PubMed are often assumed to be legitimate. But the vetting process isn’t airtight. Some predatory publishers game the system:

  • Create shell journals with legitimate-sounding names
  • Gain indexing with real peer review
  • Slowly degrade quality once indexed
  • Use that status to attract APCs

Once delisted, the journal simply rebrands. Rinse and repeat. Authors who published in the earlier phases may never know their work is now tainted.

Blacklists and Whitelists

Efforts to maintain lists of good and bad journals are ongoing, but flawed. Beall’s List is gone (though unofficial mirrors persist). Cabells’ Blacklist is paywalled. DOAJ requires criteria but has limited enforcement. Institutional lists are outdated or overly inclusive.

Without global coordination or a clear standard, authors are left to navigate a publishing minefield armed with little more than vague advice.

The Academic System Is Complicit

The most uncomfortable truth in all of this? Academia itself is enabling the rise of predatory journals.

Universities count publications, grant agencies count output, and promotion boards favor quantity. These institutions rarely perform journal-level scrutiny. If an article has a DOI and a .pdf, it often passes the bar.

This metric obsession encourages:

  • “Salami slicing” of research into multiple thin papers
  • Gaming citation metrics through self-citation or citation rings
  • Submitting to journals that ask few questions and promise fast publication

And so the ecosystem continues. Reputable journals become hyper-exclusive. Predatory journals fill the gap. Authors dance between the two, often out of necessity.

What Real Reform Would Look Like

Fixing this mess requires more than editorials and awareness campaigns. It requires disrupting the financial, academic, and reputational incentives that made it profitable in the first place.

Here’s what meaningful reform might include:

  • Fund open access models that don’t require APCs, such as library consortia, national repositories, or diamond OA platforms
  • Change promotion policies to reward quality, reproducibility, and real-world impact over sheer volume
  • Mandate journal transparency on peer review timelines, acceptance rates, and editorial decision-making
  • Create international journal registries maintained by public organizations, with transparent audits
  • Develop AI detection tools for synthetic manuscripts and fake peer reviews—and deploy them widely

Perhaps most importantly, stop treating prestige as a proxy for quality. Predators will always find a market if the journal brand matters more than the scientific contribution.

Conclusion

Predatory journals aren’t the root cause of academic publishing’s dysfunction—they’re the consequence. A perfectly rational outcome of a system where prestige is bought, speed is prized, and scrutiny is optional.

They are thriving not because academia is careless, but because the academic publishing industry has trained the world to believe that publication equals value, regardless of the venue. Greedy publishers built a gold-plated ladder to nowhere, and now everyone is trying to climb it.

If we want to stem the tide of predatory publishing, we can’t just swat at the pests. We have to drain the swamp. And that means finally admitting that some of the biggest, oldest names in the game aren’t part of the solution.

They’re part of the problem.

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