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The 'Black Box' of Peer Review

March 4, 2009

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Countless decisions in academe are based on the quest for excellence. Which professors to hire and promote. Which grants to fund. Which projects to pursue. Everyone wants to promote excellence. But what if academe actually doesn’t know what excellence is?

Michèle Lamont decided to explore excellence by studying one of the primary mechanisms used by higher education to -- in theory -- reward excellence: scholarly peer review. Applying sociological and other disciplinary approaches to her study, Lamont won the right to observe peer review panels that are normally closed to all outsiders. And she was able to interview peer review panelists before and after their meetings, examine notes of reviewers before and after decision-making meetings, and gain access to information on the outcomes of these decisions.

The result is How Professors Think: Inside the Curious World of Academic Judgment (Harvard University Press), which aims to expose what goes on behind the closed doors where funds are allocated and careers can be made. For those who have always wondered why they missed out on that grant or fellowship, the book may or may not provide comfort. Lamont describes processes in which most peer reviewers take their responsibilities seriously, and devote considerable time and attention to getting it right.

She also finds plenty of flaws -- professors whose judgment on proposals is clouded by their own personal interests, deal making among panelists to make sure decisions are made in time for panelists to catch their planes, and an uneven and somewhat unpredictable efforts by panelists to reward personal drive and determination over qualities that a grant program says are the actual criteria.

On diversity, Lamont’s research finds that peer reviewers do factor it in (although the extent to which they do so varies by discipline). But peer reviewers are much more likely to care about diversity of research topic or institution than gender or race, she finds.

As for excellence, that quality that peer review theoretically promotes, Lamont isn’t so sure it exists. It may be invoked all the time, she said in an interview, but her examination of the process suggests no way to measure it. "I think excellence means nothing,” she said, suggesting that panels be honest about the criteria they use. “I think you have to give the criteria. Typically it's originality, feasibility, and also the social and intellectual significance.” There is nothing wrong with those definitions per se, she said, but people shouldn't pretend they equate with some scientific measure of excellence, as other criteria could be used as well.

The most common flaw she documents is a pattern of professors applying very personal interests to evaluating the work before them. “People define what is exciting as what speaks to their own personal interest, and their own research,” she said.

Even if her book doesn’t change peer review, Lamont writes that she wants to “open the Black Box of peer review” so the scholars being evaluated have a better understanding of what happens to the applications in which they have invested so much time and hope. But she does have hope for those on the panels too. “I also want the older, established scholars -- the gate keepers -- to think hard and think again about the limits of what they are doing, particularly when they define ‘what is exciting’ as ‘what most looks like me (or my work).’ ”

Lamont is no stranger to the peer review process. She has won grants and served on peer review panels, and done both from a position as an academic “insider,” she writes. She is a tenured professor at Harvard (with appointments in European studies, sociology and African and African-American studies, while also serving as a senior adviser on faculty development and diversity for the Faculty of Arts and Sciences). At the same time, she notes that she brings an outsider’s perspective to her study, as one who was French educated and French speaking and thinking until she came to the United States, and who is “not enamored with ‘insiderism.’ ”

To get inside the process, Lamont had to pledge confidentiality. While she describes in general terms some of the organizations whose peer review panels she observed, and names some of the organizations, the interviews and descriptions in the book aren’t linked to any specific competition, nor are peer reviewers or applicants named. Among the peer review processes she was permitted to study were some sponsored by the American Council of Learned Societies, the Social Science Research Council, and the Woodrow Wilson National Fellowship Foundation.

The peer review processes she studied involved grants to professors and graduate students, and all the panels involved professors from many disciplines. She writes that, as a result, the findings may suggest similar issues for multi-disciplinary committees on individual campuses -- panels that frequently play a key role in tenure reviews once a candidate has been considered at the departmental level.

One of the key findings was that professors in different disciplines take very different approaches to decision making. The gap between humanities and social sciences scholars is as large as anything C.P. Snow saw between the humanities and the hard sciences.

Many humanities professors, she writes, “rank what promises to be ‘fascinating’ above what may turn out to be ‘true.’ ” She quotes an English professor she observed explaining the value of a particular project: “My thing is, even if it doesn’t work, I think it will provoke really fascinating conversations. So I was really not interested in whether it’s true or not.”

In contrast, Lamont quotes a political scientist on what he values in proposals he reviews: “Validity is one, and you might say parsimony is another, I think that’s relatively important, but not nearly as important as validity. It’s the notion that a good theory is one that maximizes the ratio between the information that is captured in the independent variable and the information that is captured in the prediction, in the dependent variable.”

Lamont acknowledges that not all professors align with disciplinary norms, but she cites not only individual quotes, but tabulations of the words and values expressed by peer reviewers that show the strength of the patterns.

Among her findings:

The Middle of the Pack and Horse-Trading: Most peer review panels spend relatively little time on those proposals that come in with broad support or little support, but spend most of their time on middle of the pack proposals on which there are flaws of various types. In deliberations, many panelists admit to forming alliances with like-minded scholars to back or oppose proposals, and to using "strategic" voting, in which they may go along with one grant to win support for another. Many admit to "high balling" proposals that they like, giving them ranks that are higher than deserved, as a means of keeping a proposal alive in the competition. But relatively few would admit to "low balling" and there appears to be a general consensus against it.

The Luck of Timing: The most intense discussions take place proposal by proposal, and it is relatively rare to go back -- on the basis of finding more deserving proposals -- and pull out those already awarded, Lamont writes. One panelist told her of a session: "I feel that if the meeting had gone another day, and if we had been allowed to pull people out of the 'yes' list and change our minds, there might have been six or seven or eight switches." Another timing issue involves the inevitable plane to catch. One panel Lamont observed simply didn't award all the fellowships it could have because the reviewers wanted to leave for the airport.

The Power of Personal and Professional Interests: Lamont writes that most reviewers would never admit to being unfair and would never engage in explicit favoritism based on personal ties, or an applicant being a student of a friend or colleague. But when it comes to an affinity for work that is similar to their own or that reflects personal interests having nothing to do with scholarship, many applicants benefit in a significant way. In a passage that may be one of the most damning of the book, Lamont writes: "[A]n anthropologist explains her support for a proposal on songbirds by noting that she had just come back from Tucson, where she had been charmed by songbirds. An English scholar supports a proposal on the body, tying her interest to the fact that she was an elite tennis player in high school. A historian doing cross-cultural, comparative work explicitly states that he favors proposals with a similar emphasis. ... Yet another panelist ties her opposition to a proposal on Viagra to the fact that she is a lesbian: 'I will be very candid here, this is one place where I said, OK, in the way I live my life and my practices ... I'm so sick of hearing about Viagra. ... Just this focus on men, whereas women, you know, birth control is a big problem in our country. So I think that's what made me cranky.' Apparently, equating 'what looks most like you' with 'excellence' is so reflexive as to go unnoticed by some."

Morality and Character: When peer reviewers talk about excellence in their deliberations, Lamont writes, they frequently link their opinions on applicants' character to their proposals (without much link to what grant competitions claim to be about). For example, she writes that there are frequent attempts to bolster proposals from "courageous risk-takers," or to reject ideas from "lazy conformists." People also reference, in positive ways, such qualities as "determination," "humility" and "authenticity," she writes.

Diversity of Diversity Considerations: Generally, Lamont writes that peer reviewers believe that diversity in higher education is a good thing and should be encouraged. But she finds relatively little attention paid to the gender and race of applicants, and much more to diversity of topics and to "institutional affirmative action," which is only sometimes endorsed by the funding agencies whose panels practice it. "Panelists practice institutional affirmative action because they believe that private, elite, and research-focused universities are privileged in the competition process," Lamont writes. She quotes a number of panelists as becoming frustrated when they realized that they were approving grants from similar institutions, and who then looked for other proposals to support. At the same time, Lamont writes of cases where the benefit of the doubt goes to someone from a prestigious institution (again without apparent justification in terms of funding organization criteria). She quotes a reviewer on one proposal as saying: "I know that Chinese literature at Penn is very highly regarded, she can't be a dummy doing this particular kind of work. ... This is a subject that if she had been from some tiny little hole-in-the-wall college, it's not likely I don't think."

So where does this leave Lamont on peer review? She actually thinks that the meetings, even with the flaws she exposes, are important to preserve. Thoughtful discussion among panelists can lead people to move beyond personal biases and make better decisions, she said. And so, for example, she is skeptical of moves to just have panelists rank proposals online, with some sort of computation of scores without a real meeting. "There is a real reason why deliberation takes place," she said.

Having studied this subject in such detail, Lamont said, the most important recommendation for herself and others is to ask more questions ... of oneself. "When I declare that something is exciting now, I am more aware of how this relates to my own agenda," she said. "I hope that people will read the book and that we'll all be more reflective on how we do this."

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Comments on The 'Black Box' of Peer Review

  • What About the Biggies
  • Posted by Just Wondering on March 4, 2009 at 8:45am EST
  • I did not recognize the few granting agencies mentioned in this article. Are they funding arts and humanities? It would have been more informative (for this prof, at least) to see what goes on behind the doors at NSF and NIH. More of the same, maybe?

  • The Black Box of Writing about Black Boxes
  • Posted by Hugh LaFollette , Cole Chair in Ethics at University of South Florida on March 4, 2009 at 10:15am EST
  • This comment relies on the article about the book in question. So if the article is incorrect, my comments may be off mark. That said . . .

    I had two quick reactions to the story. (1) The use of anonymous sources protects the authors as much as -- and perhaps more than -- the people she studies. For no one can say: "Oh, you misdescribed what we said or did."

    (2) The claim that not every panel is flawless is not an interesting conclusion. This is a commonplace about all human endeavors. So what is new here? Presumably the claim that "excellence means nothing." What? The author apparently assumes that since (a) different panels judge excellence differently and (b) there is no "scientific" measure of excellence, then excellence is an empty concept. She forgets -- or doesn't know -- that excellence is determined, at least in part, by judgment. A grammar book on its will never make anyone a stylist. Any attempt to circumvent judgment (by establishing a "scientific" measure) is not just wrong-headed, it is dangerous.

  • Posted by Former reviewer on March 4, 2009 at 10:15am EST
  • Actually, I found it refreshing to see a study of peer review that appears not to have been dominated by NSF and NIH. The reality is that each disciplinary cluster has its own nuanced version of peer review, and each warrants analysis. Often in peer review panels I have been reminded of Winston Churchill's characterization of deomcracy, adjusted to the current situation: peer review as the worst form of selecting grant recipients, except for all the others. And this assessment is confirmed each time I look at the list of Congressional earmarks. As for the book under copnsideration here and the the points described as being drawn from it, never a judge a text by its synopsis.

  • So true
  • Posted by Wondering , Professor at University of Maine on March 4, 2009 at 10:15am EST
  • Peer Committees can be exactly as described in this article.  So can P&T committees (teams, some call them) at the higher levels.  It is a daunting process for any junior faculty member these day, and I do not say that lightly.  An example of not understanding colleagues' research or their record is the previous message about the biggies.  Seems the lens of some people does not allow them to see what humanities people do.  I have heard some things that frightened me when people's P&T materials were being evaluated - comments that showed inappropriate criteria being applied, inability to even 'see' the value of the research or creative expression, questions that would never have arisen if the field had been understood minimally.  Once a person with decision-making power basically questioned the value of a faculty member's whole discipline.  It was literature, all literature.

    P&T is often a minefield and I would suggest that it is worse for those not in science and technology or in the disciplines/units most valued on a campus.

  • Implications for the effect of peer review?
  • Posted by Skeptic , Deputy Executive Director at National Research Council on March 4, 2009 at 10:15am EST
  • These are interesting, and not surprising, findings. But the important question "does this quirky process result in the funding of substandard work?" isn't answered. With so many more proposals than available money, my guess would be that good work and good scholars get funded through peer review and that the most intelligent machine could not duplicate the process. The quirks need to be combatted by whoever is responsible for the process.

  • NSF Peer Review
  • Posted by Stanislaus J. Dundon , Professor, Environmental Studies at California State University, Sacramento on March 4, 2009 at 3:15pm EST
  • Lamont is Right

    Stephen Cole's Making Science(Harvard U. Press 1992) devotes considerable attention to NSF peer review and substantially agrees with Lamont on the absence of evidence that reviewers tend to favor candidates from the elite research universities.In fact it appears that there is a shared sentiment to the effect that: "Those guys/gals from the biggies have plenty of resources, so let's give this bright and exciting youngster a chance." As a philosopher/historian of science, I have no problem accepting the "defintion" of science as "science is what scientists say is science", i.e. that the content that is judged worthy of the name science (as opposed to "scientific work") is content about which there is a nearly universal consensus among the peers. How often in the history of science has this process of peer judgment gone wrong, i.e where some dynamic allowed a consensus to form around a fraud--and why-- and were peer reviewers responsible for that. I am thinking of Freudian studies and Mead's concepts of sexual development in Samoa, or the apparently still fairly strong tendency to hold that romantic love is rare in marriage and is a fairly recent cultural invention anyway. How can we posibly blame any of that on Mead? She was just one Columbia University grad student! It was the audience, with the peer reviewers at its center, that made her views regnant in more than one field in America.When one looks at the marital musical chairs of the East Coast anthropological social circles at the time, one can see the danger of reviewers who give high grades to scholars who "think like me." Samoans, she says, "scoff at fidelity to a long absent wife or mistress,believe explicitly that one love will quickly cure another." And only by the the support of her colleagues did this bit of paper-back wisdom achieve the dignity of anthropology. So what is my advice to peer reviewers? Political correctness is not too likely to cloud your judgment, but if someone is proposing to do research on a topic with significant impacts on your own personal values and you find yourself wondering what conclusions he/she is likely to come up with, start worrying about your own devotion to science. "Do little boys benefit by having a male figure in their home who loves them deeply?" is a good topic to research. And if you see this as too sensitive to leave to chance then fund two researchers who tend to opposed sides.

  • The 'Black Box' of Peer Review... has much truth in it!
  • Posted by JJ , Assoc Professor at Major, "top-tier", public Research I University on March 4, 2009 at 10:15pm EST
  • I have not read this book, only the "on-line" excerpts. An earlier comment that what was observed in panel deliberations on proposals is paralleled by deliberations on P & T is "right on". My observations over a career of 3.5 decades in higher education at a large, Research I public university is that P & T committees are extremely capricious in their deliberations. Within one academic department there are faculty in diverse areas. Some faculty are very narrow-minded and "insist" on applying the standards of their area to all... even though there is an obvious incongruity. There is a lot of inconsistency in how a person is judged, often by the same evaluator from one year to the next. Dean's and Provosts admonish department chairs who send them a recommendation with a "split vote"... insisting that the department not force them to "make the decision", but make it for them. Of course, they then reserve the absolute right to "say no to a yes, but will never say yes to a no". In small departments this enables a few, perhaps only one or two, faculty to literally "blackball" anyone they want... and there is no recourse. Especially when you have faculty evaluators who not only refuse to recognize and acknowledge that different areas must be evaluated differently, but who have "huge egos" and think no one can ever be their equal and fiercely "guard the gate" to the rank that hold. The rhetoric about seeking "excellence" is just that... rhetoric. Clearly reform is needed but like the US Congress... this is not likely to happen!

  • Not surprising
  • Posted by SS , Associate Professor at Private Institution on March 10, 2009 at 10:45am EDT
  • I have been an NIH study section chair and have served on a variety of other study sections for NIH. The findings described in this article reflect the opinions of individual reviewers, but they do not adequately capture the peer review process. Most grant applications have 2-3 reviewers assigned, and the rest of the committee has an opportunity to comment. A section is comprised of people with diverse backgrounds and interests. Often reviewers will disagree. The chair's responsibility is to keep discussions focused on review criteria and away from personal judgments (the same ones that reviewers disclose in private). So while "jurors" harbor their own biases in a court case, the evidence that is considered for scoring should be contingent on scientific merit and not personal fancy. It is by no means a perfect process, but is much better than simply trusting a bureaucrat to evaluate scientific merit. Which leads me to one additional point. Reviewers do NOT make funding decisions. In fact, we are not permitted to discuss the "f" word. The institutes make the funding decisions. Much of the time our priority scores factor into those funding decisions, but often proposals with less competitive scores will get funded if a particular application fits with an institutes primary mission. NIH is currently experimenting with other models of peer review (e.g., asynchronous online review) in an effort to make the process more efficient. But to say that reviewers (most of whom are people who submit grants themselves) "blackball" people is giving reviewers way more power than they actually have and conferring upon them values that most do not bring to the review process.

  • It's that bad, and worse...
  • Posted by aitatxua on March 13, 2009 at 5:30pm EDT
  • My application for an NEH research fellowship was shot down one year, according to two of the anonymous panelists' comments, because the research project, for all of its importance, involved a degree of translation (the study's subject lived in the Bolivian Amazon), and "we don't fund translation." Since the NEH's published guidelines for qualification explicitly include translation projects, I called the program director, who refused to comment (did he fear a lawsuit?). Another staff member was more open, and lamented that the NEH didn't do a better job educating panelists about what did, and did not, qualify for funding. He assured me he would bring it up at "the meeting," that it wouldn't happen again, and that I should apply the following year.

    I did apply the following year, and achieved exactly the same result, for exactly the same reason (though one panelist also worried about funding a project whose study subject might die, a concern based on pure speculation over his age). Again, I contacted the NEH, and spoke with a staff member who told me, as he read through the panelists' comments, that he was "blushing at the absurdity" of the panelists' logic, and their lack of professionalism. "What can I tell you?" he said. "There is simply no excuse for this. It's unacceptable. All I can do is apologize. I'm profoundly embarrassed by this." 

    I wonder whether if Michele Lamont had been observing, the panelists at our nation's top research funding agency in the humanities would have bothered to at least read the funding criteria...

  • Review panels
  • Posted by Tigerpaw at UCSD on March 16, 2009 at 3:00pm EDT
  • I served for several years as an aide to a committee whose make-up changed slowly and whose responsibility was the allocation of time at a supercomputer center. The committee contained representatives from universities belonging to a consortium that had originally supported the center (although applications were permitted from all schools) and a couple of program directors from science disciplines at NSF. The main enforcer (or destroyer) of careful deliberation was always the chair. When the chair demanded panelists hew sharply to the criteria, there was usually compliance. When the chair failed to make this demand, the panelists inevitably began applying arbitrary and often personal criteria.

    When the competition for time awards was intense, people who asked for a lot of time frequently saw their resulting allocations reduced so the number of investigators gaining allocations would remain fairly constant, without regard to whether a reduced allocation would actually accomplish the work proposed--and in the following cycle, the renewed proposal would be downgraded because the work previously proposed had not been accomplished, unless the chair reminded the committee of the reason. If the chair changed, the institutional history was lost, because no notations were kept of the reasoning employed.

    Taking a long view, almost all such committees and review panels are as ad hoc as the disciplines concerned, and these are as ad hoc as the institutions within which they are embodied. The reason they exist is the scarcity of resources, and it is the reasons for that scarcity that should be soberly pondered by committee members before they convene. What if there were enough resources to let everyone do whatever they've proposed? What would the picture look like if there need be no gatekeepers? Would the criteria I treasure be embraced by a majority, or have I become an advocate for values with which most in my field would oppose? And if so, what then?