Magic numbers

People say that three's a crowd, it takes two to tango, and one is the loneliest number.

But what's the magic number when it comes to publications?

How many pubs do you need to get tenure?  When I ask around, the answer varies.  At my PUI, I've heard anywhere from one up to five as the magic number that will ensure a worry-free pass on the research front.

My favorite response so far?  "Enough.  You need enough."


Maybe there isn't one magic number for publications.  But it does make me wonder: is there a national standard for demonstrating publishing prowess?

Reviewing friends

Apparently I have more friends than I thought.

'Cause get what just popped into my inbox?  A grant review request from an agency for a friend.  And not a conference buddy friend.  An actual, we-got-educated-together (not in that way, you sick bastard) friend.

I know, especially with the size of academia, that I would review a grant or paper for a friend eventually.

I just didn't think it would be this soon.

Or potentially have to be a negative review.

My New Year gift to you

As some of you nurse your hangovers (CPP, I'm looking at you, darlin'), here's something to take the edge off.  I should warn you, however, that if you are prone to high blood pressure, you might want to save this link for another day:  Retraction Watch.


What a depressing year for retractions!  (Or great year, depending on your POV.)



Enjoy.  Time for me to get cracking on my first book of 2011.  I suspect that this first selection will go by quickly.

We're having a baby...named Tenure

On a recent weekend, I ran into some fellow grad students heading into the building as I was heading out to watch football. They (semi) jokingly chided me for leaving work so early on a Saturday (in our department at LargeU, the average work week is ~65 h/week, but in my particular area it's usually more like 75, getting in the upper 80s during grant time).

I (semi) jokingly replied, "No one in my group has to work weekends anymore, now that we have tenure."

"'We?' So you all get tenure once The Boss does?" They grinned at what they though was my misspoken pronoun.

"Well, yeah, actually. We all got The Boss tenure. So we are all tenured now!"


And don't you think that's only fair? We all stressed, pushed, and bled for The Boss to get the publications out in time for the tenure packet review (culminating in 12 papers submitted in 3 weeks, thank-you-very-much!). I bribed students in a class of The Boss with pixie stix and put in extra office hours to ensure high teaching marks. We all endured three submission rounds of The Biggest Grant ever, requiring 14+ hour days (for two weeks straight) to get data analyzed and figures made in time.

So yes, just like men often say "we're having a baby," I'm going to proudly proclaim, "WE just got tenure."


Unfortunately, I don't think that's something I can list on my CV, huh?

Cheating the system (?)

Early in September, I submitted a short paper, a communication, really. This particular journal typically returns reviews on such communications very quickly, on the order of ~3 weeks.

After 6 weeks, The (newly tenured) Boss sent the editor a brief email inquiring about the status of my manuscript. A week later, we received a response.

Not an apology.

Not my reviews.

No, instead, the email stated that my communication had been accepted as is, and the galley proofs would be arriving in 5-7 days. The reviews weren't part of the email, and they weren't located in the online system, either.

While I should be very happy not to have to do any revisions, I can't help but wonder: is this really peer review?