Table of Contents
- Introduction
- The Politics of Prestige
- Peer Review as Politics
- The Money Trail
- Geopolitics of Knowledge
- Citation Cartels and Impact Inflation
- Science as Branding
- Who Gets Left Out
- Conclusion
Introduction
Academic publishing often presents itself as an objective system, portraying a framework in which research is evaluated solely based on its scientific merit. The peer review process, impact factors, and citation metrics are held up as proof of neutrality, a system that supposedly separates rigorous scholarship from noise. Yet anyone who has spent time within this world quickly realizes that academic publishing is not the pristine realm of science that it claims to be. It is, instead, a place where politics, prestige, and profit intersect in ways that shape what knowledge is seen and valued.
Pull back the curtain, and you will find that academic publishing is as much about gatekeeping, reputation, and financial interest as it is about research quality. The decision of where an article gets published can matter more than the article itself. Universities tie career progression to journal rankings, while publishers profit enormously from taxpayer-funded research. Editorial boards often reflect not just disciplinary expertise but also geopolitical dominance. In short, science may be the content, but politics is the operating system.
The Politics of Prestige
In theory, science should advance based on the strength of evidence. In practice, it often advances based on where research gets published. Prestige journals like Nature, Science, or The Lancet are considered the pinnacle of academic achievement. Getting into one of these journals can secure a researcher’s future, while publishing in a lower-tier outlet might barely be noticed. This is not because the quality of research differs radically, but because prestige acts as a currency within academia.
This obsession with journal branding distorts the way research is conducted and communicated. Researchers often tailor their work to fit the expectations of high-impact journals, emphasizing novelty or controversy rather than reliability. Editors, driven by the pursuit of citations and visibility, often prefer “big findings” over incremental yet necessary studies. The result is a culture where the politics of prestige dictates research agendas, with scientists compelled to play the game if they want funding, jobs, or tenure.
The absurdity of this becomes apparent when one considers how arbitrary prestige can be. A groundbreaking paper rejected by a top-tier journal may later appear in a lesser-known publication and still transform an entire field. Conversely, flashy papers in elite journals sometimes collapse under scrutiny, as seen in retractions involving high-profile COVID-19 studies. Yet the reputational system persists, bolstered by a culture that equates prestige with quality, regardless of the evidence.
Peer Review as Politics
Peer review is often hailed as the mechanism that separates science from pseudoscience. Yet behind the veil of anonymity, reviewers are human beings with biases, ambitions, and rivalries. The process is not purely about assessing rigor. It is also about deciding who belongs in the conversation and whose voices can be excluded.
Reviewers may dismiss submissions because they challenge dominant paradigms or threaten their own research agendas. In some cases, they delay publication to gain a competitive advantage. The result is a process that is as much about protecting territory as it is about safeguarding standards. When reviewers act as gatekeepers rather than evaluators, peer review becomes a political tool that enforces conformity instead of promoting innovation.
Consider the countless stories of young scholars whose work is rejected not because it is flawed but because it unsettles the consensus. Or think about the papers that struggle to find a home simply because they come from outside elite institutions. These are not failures of science. They are failures of politics masquerading as science.
The Money Trail
If academic publishing were truly about knowledge-sharing, one would expect its financial model to reflect that. Instead, it is structured around profit. The global academic publishing industry—especially in the Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics (STEM) segment—is estimated to generate around USD 19 billion annually, with recent reports placing the scientific and technical publishing market at approximately USD 12–13 billion per year. Elsevier reported revenues of approximately USD 3.9 billion in 2023, with an adjusted operating margin ranging from approximately 33% to 38%. Few industries enjoy such lucrative returns, and fewer still manage to achieve them by selling a product created for free by others.
Researchers produce papers without compensation, peer review them without pay, and then watch as publishers lock them behind paywalls that universities must pay exorbitant subscription fees to access. The irony is painful: public money funds the research, academics provide the labor, and corporations pocket the profits. The politics here is not subtle. It is a system designed to keep publishers in control of access to knowledge.
Open access publishing was intended as the antidote, but the cure has come with its own price tag. Article processing charges (APCs) can run from USD 2,000 to 5,000 for a single paper, and some high-profile journals charge upward of USD 10,000. For well-funded labs, this is manageable. For underfunded scholars in the Global South, it is prohibitive. The promise of democratizing knowledge has turned into yet another political contest over who gets to publish and who gets left behind.
Geopolitics of Knowledge
Institutional politics do not just shape academic publishing. It is also shaped by global politics. English dominates as the lingua franca of scholarship, which automatically puts non-native speakers at a disadvantage. Researchers from Latin America, Africa, and parts of Asia often face additional hurdles in getting published, not because their research lacks merit, but because it is not presented in the polished English that elite journals demand.
This linguistic dominance reinforces existing power structures. Journals headquartered in the United States and Europe set the rules, while research from the Global South is frequently overlooked or undervalued. Consider China: by 2022, it accounted for about 27% of global science and engineering publications, nearly double the U.S. share of 14%, according to the National Science Foundation. China had already overtaken the United States in publication volume by 2016 and has since widened its lead. Yet Chinese journals struggle for recognition within Western indexing systems, which are gatekept by established publishers. The imbalance is not about scientific quality. It is about who controls the infrastructure of visibility.
The geopolitics of publishing also extends to what topics are considered legitimate. Research that aligns with Western priorities is more likely to get global attention, while locally relevant studies in developing regions may remain obscure. This creates a knowledge hierarchy where the “center” dictates what constitutes valuable science, and the “periphery” struggles for recognition.
Citation Cartels and Impact Inflation
Metrics like impact factors were introduced to quantify influence. Instead, they have become instruments of manipulation. Journals encourage authors to cite other papers from the same journal, inflating citation counts and boosting their rankings. In some cases, entire networks of journals have been discovered engaging in reciprocal citation practices, effectively forming citation cartels.
The consequences are serious because careers and funding decisions are tied to these numbers. A researcher’s ability to secure grants often depends on demonstrating a strong publication record in high-impact outlets. Yet those very metrics are susceptible to distortion. Cases of journals expunged from the Journal Citation Reports due to excessive self-citations are not new. Such cases expose the fragility of a system that relies on metrics as proxies for quality, while ignoring how easily those metrics can be gamed.
The irony is that these numbers, treated with near-religious reverence by universities and funding agencies, are more about politics than science. They represent bargaining chips in a game of academic capital, a way of signaling prestige rather than ensuring truth.
Science as Branding
Academic publishing increasingly resembles a branding exercise. Journals market themselves as elite platforms, universities flaunt faculty publications as proof of excellence, and publishers present their databases as indispensable tools. Each actor is less interested in the intrinsic value of research than in the reputational capital it generates.
This branding obsession distorts incentives. Journals chase headline-grabbing studies because they attract attention, citations, and subscriptions. Universities pressure faculty to “publish or perish,” even if that means flooding the system with incremental studies that add little to knowledge. Publishers invest in elaborate marketing campaigns centered on impact factors and indexing, ensuring that their journals remain the default choice for ambitious researchers. The branding game is not about advancing science. It is about building hierarchies of influence and maintaining control over the circulation of knowledge.
Who Gets Left Out
The politics of publishing inevitably determines who gets silenced. Early-career researchers are often at the mercy of reviewers and editors, frequently finding that their work is dismissed unless it aligns neatly with existing paradigms. Independent scholars, without the backing of major institutions, struggle even more. For those working in controversial fields, the barriers can feel insurmountable.
Yet history shows that progress often comes from outsiders and dissenters. Science thrives on challenges to orthodoxy, but the politics of publishing frequently stifles such challenges. Journals worry about reputational risks, reviewers cling to consensus, and publishers chase profitability. The result is a system that rewards conformity over creativity, leaving some of the most innovative ideas on the margins.
Conclusion
Academic publishing wants to project itself as the guardian of truth and rigor. In reality, it is a system deeply shaped by politics, money, and power. Prestige determines which journals matter. Peer review can act as both a gatekeeping mechanism and a safeguard. Profits drive publishers to erect barriers around access to knowledge. Geopolitical imbalances dictate whose voices dominate the conversation. Metrics are manipulated, branding dictates incentives, and countless researchers are left excluded from the system.
Science is supposed to be about discovery, dissent, and the pursuit of truth. Yet the publishing industry often reduces it to a competition for status and influence. Until the political games embedded in publishing are confronted, science will remain hostage to a system where power, not evidence, determines what gets heard. Recognizing this is the first step toward imagining a publishing model that serves science, rather than politics.