In a recent post focusing on the work of Avner Baz, I raised concerns about the extent to which philosophers engage each other's ideas. Baz is far from the only example of someone whose work I think has been unfairly neglected. Time and again, I read papers that (in my view) ignore a lot of really good recent work...usually work by less well-established scholars. Indeed, I just read another paper that came out yesterday--in a very good journal, on an issue that a lot of young scholars have published on--and the article only cited the most famous people in the topic's subfield. Since it is a subfield I happen to work in, this really frustrated me. Further, as Kieran Healy has shown with actual data (see also here), "hardly anyone is getting cited." By and large in philosophy, the same small cadre of people get cited again, and again, and again, while most everyone else's work languishes in relative obscurity.
I do not think this is a sign of healthy discipline. It makes philosophy seem less of a serious exchange and conscientious engagement and evaluation of ideas, and more of a feudal system of lords and serfs: 'lords' who dominate the philosophical landscape, and 'serfs' whose ideas are all but ignored. Moreover, as I have explained before, it seems epistemically bad, calling into question whether philosophy is actually moved forward by good arguments, as opposed to mere sociological forces (jumping on bandwagons started by a few esteemed figures, etc.).
Anyway, if you find yourself at all persuaded by me (as well as by Healy's data) that there is something wrong--that philosophers do not engage adequately with others' ideas, particularly the ideas of less well-established people--this raises the obvious question: what, if anything, could be done to improve the situation?
I've suggested one thing before: improve citation practices. As I have argued before (see here, here, and here), many philosophers appear to have bizarre and unjustifiable citation practices. They think citations exist to recognize "good work" or "work that influenced them", this despite the fact that in every other discipline on the planet, citations exist to simply recognize work that exists--and for good reason: practices of citing "good work" or "work that influences you" can lead to systematic failure to cite people, wrongly excluding them from the literature because you don't think their work is good. Philosophers' citation standards, in other words, invite bias--which is precisely why good disciplines have better standards: standards which require people to be recognized for their work regardless of "whether you think it's good" and regardless of "whether it influenced you." Indeed, if anything could explain (in my view) the appalling facts of the Healy data (the data showing that "hardly anyone is getting cited", even people who publish in top journals!), this is it. People aren't cited because--whether we recognize it or not--we tend to think someone's work is good when it is work by a Famous Person from an Awesome Department: something which leads only Famous People from Awesome Departments ever getting cited.
So, I think we must insist on better citation practices. But I think there is something else we could do too. One thing that has always puzzled me about philosophy is that, by and large, journals do not permit mere "replies" to people's work in other journals. Although most journals permit short replies to work in their own pages, very few journals allow you to publish a "reply" to a piece in another journal. There are, it seems to me, two problems with this. First, it disincentivizes writing reply pieces. If you know that you can only send a reply piece to one journal (the journal that published the original piece), why in the world would you waste your time writing one? If your reply gets rejected, you are out of luck! Although I published a couple of replies to start out my career, I have to say: this is why I don't write replies anymore. It's just not a very good "bet" or way to spend one's time. Second, by restricting replies to articles that appear in their own pages, our discipline dramatically restricts the total number of replies that are likely to appear in the literature (since, if a reply gets rejected by the journal in which the article first appeared, the reply can never come out anywhere).
This is terrible. It means that even if someone wants to engage with the work of another person, actually replying to their work, (1) they are unlikely to do so (they are disincentivized from doing it), and (2) even if they do it, the chances of their reply ever ending up published are slim (since there is only one journal that will ever consider the piece). What does this mean? It means, I think, something that many of us already feel (and, I would say, know): that philosophy often appears more like a series of monologues rather than a true "conversation." Instead of engaging with other people's work, article after article engages primarily with either (A) the work of Famous People, or else (B) nothing more than whatever interests the author themselves (something which, I think, is responsible for the plague of self-citations in philosophy. When I do searches on Google scholar, the only person who often cites a person's work is...the person themself). This is no good. Philosophy should not be a series of monologues. It should be a genuine, open, inclusive, and engaged conversation. And, for that reason, I want to propose, journals should stop only allowing "replies" to their own articles. Science journals don't do this, and neither should we. Journals should allow replies to articles in other journals. While this might not solve the problems I've mentioned above, it would plausibly help significantly.
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