This week’s issue of Science has an interesting article on The Big Pitch–a pilot NSF initiative to determine whether anonymizing proposals and dramatically cutting down their length (from 15 pages to 2) has a substantial impact on the results of the review process. The answer appears to be an unequivocal yes. From the article:
What happens is a lot, according to the first two rounds of the Big Pitch. NSF’s grant reviewers who evaluated short, anonymized proposals picked a largely different set of projects to fund compared with those chosen by reviewers presented with standard, full-length versions of the same proposals.
Not surprisingly, the researchers who did well under the abbreviated format are pretty pleased:
Shirley Taylor, an awardee during the evolution round of the Big Pitch, says a comparison of the reviews she got on the two versions of her proposal convinced her that anonymity had worked in her favor. An associate professor of microbiology at Virginia Commonwealth University in Richmond, Taylor had failed twice to win funding from the National Institutes of Health to study the role of an enzyme in modifying mitochondrial DNA.
Both times, she says, reviewers questioned the validity of her preliminary results because she had few publications to her credit. Some reviews of her full proposal to NSF expressed the same concern. Without a biographical sketch, Taylor says, reviewers of the anonymous proposal could “focus on the novelty of the science, and this is what allowed my proposal to be funded.”
Broadly speaking, there are two ways to interpret the divergent results of the standard and abbreviated review. The charitable interpretation is that the change in format is, in fact, beneficial, inasmuch as it eliminates prior reputation as one source of bias and forces reviewers to focus on the big picture rather than on small methodological details. Of course, as Prof-Like Substance points out in an excellent post, one could mount a pretty reasonable argument that this isn’t necessarily a good thing. After all, a scientist’s past publication record is likely to be a good predictor of their future success, so it’s not clear that proposals should be anonymous when large amounts of money are on the line (and there are other ways to counteract the bias against newbies–e.g., NIH’s approach of explicitly giving New Investigators a payline boost until they get their first R01). And similarly, some scientists might be good at coming up with big ideas that sound plausible at first blush and not so good at actually carrying out the research program required to bring those big ideas to fruition. Still, at the very least, if we’re being charitable, The Big Pitch certainly does seem like a very different kind of approach to review.
The less charitable interpretation is that the reason the ratings of the standard and abbreviated proposals showed very little correlation is that the latter approach is just fundamentally unreliable. If you suppose that it’s just not possible to reliably distinguish a very good proposal from a somewhat good one on the basis of just 2 pages, it makes perfect sense that 2-page and 15-page proposal ratings don’t correlate much–since you’re basically selecting at random in the 2-page case. Understandably, researchers who happen to fare well under the 2-page format are unlikely to see it that way; they’ll probably come up with many plausible-sounding reasons why a shorter format just makes more sense (just like most researchers who tend to do well with the 15-page format probably think it’s the only sensible way for NSF to conduct its business). We humans are all very good at finding self-serving rationalizations for things, after all.
Personally I don’t have very strong feelings about the substantive merits of short versus long-format review–though I guess I do find it hard to believe that 2-page proposals could be ranked very reliably given that some very strange things seem to happen with alarming frequency even with 12- and 15-page proposals. But it’s an empirical question, and I’d love to see relevant data. In principle, the NSF could have obtained that data by having two parallel review panels rate all of the 2-page proposals (or even 4 panels, since one would also like to know how reliable the normal review process is). That would allow the agency to directly quantify the reliability of the ratings by looking at their cross-panel consistency. Absent that kind of data, it’s very hard to know whether the results Science reports on are different because 2-page review emphasizes different (but important) things, or because a rating process based on an extended 2-page abstract just amounts to a glorified lottery.
Alternatively, and perhaps more pragmatically, NSF could just wait a few years to see how the projects funded under the pilot program turn out (and I’m guessing this is part of their plan). I.e., do the researchers who do well under the 2-page format end producing science as good as (or better than) the researchers who do well under the current system? This sounds like a reasonable approach in principle, but the major problem is that we’re only talking about a total of ~25 funded proposals (across two different review panels), so it’s unclear that there will be enough data to draw any firm conclusions. Certainly many scientists (including me) are likely to feel a bit uneasy at the thought that NSF might end up making major decisions about how to allocate billions of dollars on the basis of two dozen grants.
Anyway, skepticism aside, this isn’t really meant as a criticism of NSF so much as an acknowledgment of the fact that the problem in question is a really, really difficult one. The task of continually evaluating and improving the grant review process is not one anyone should want to take on lightly. If time and money were no object, every proposed change (like dramatically shortened proposals) would be extensively tested on a large scale and directly compared to the current approach before being implemented. Unfortunately, flying thousands of scientists to Washington D.C. is a very expensive business (to say nothing of all the surrounding costs), and I imagine that testing out a substantively different kind of review process on a large scale could easily run into the tens of millions of dollars. In a sense, the funding agencies can’t really win. On the one hand, if they only ever pilot new approaches on a small scale, they never get enough empirical data to confidently back major changes in policy. On the other hand, if they pilot new approaches on a large scale and those approaches end up failing to improve on the current system (as is the fate of most innovative new ideas), the funding agencies get hammered by politicians and scientists alike for wasting taxpayer money in an already-harsh funding climate.
I don’t know what the solution is (or if there is one), but if nothing else, I do think it’s a good thing that NSF and NIH continue to actively tinker with their various processes. After all, if there’s anything most researchers can agree on, it’s that the current system is very far from perfect.