Maybe Journals Are Just Record Labels
If the internet changed what record labels are for, maybe it's changing what journals are for, too.
I’m not a musician, so I’ve been texting friends who are.
It started with a throwaway thought: Maybe journals are just record labels.
Every time I think I’ve found where the analogy breaks, someone sends me another text that makes it a little more interesting.
One friend pointed out that recording studios are a bit like research labs. You can have a brilliant song sitting in your Notes app. At some point, though, you need a place, the equipment, and the people to help turn it into something real.
Fair enough.
Then we started talking about record labels.
My first instinct was that labels are mostly about distribution. But that isn’t really true anymore. Anyone can upload a song to Spotify. Distribution isn’t what it used to be.
So why do artists still sign with labels?
Some labels are undoubtedly predatory. Others, especially independent ones, seem to exist because people trust their taste. They discover artists early. They help connect musicians with producers. They invest in records they believe in. They introduce listeners to music they might never have found on their own.
People don’t just follow artists.
Sometimes they follow labels.
That got me thinking about journals.
For most of scientific history, journals did two jobs at once. They evaluated research and they distributed it. Those roles were naturally intertwined because printing and mailing journals was hard.
Today, sharing a paper is almost trivial.
Finding the papers worth reading isn’t.
Maybe that’s why this analogy keeps sticking with me.
If the internet changed what record labels are for, maybe it’s changing what journals are for, too.
Not because journals have become obsolete.
Because their comparative advantage has shifted.
Maybe the journals that thrive won’t be the ones that simply publish papers. Maybe they’ll be the ones known for exceptional editors, thoughtful peer review, clear communication, or an uncanny ability to identify important work early.
In other words, taste.
One of my musician friends texted me something else that I haven’t stopped thinking about.
He said most musicians don’t hate music. They get frustrated with the industry surrounding it. The incentives, the economics, the tiny fraction of artists who capture almost all of the attention. Success and craft don’t always move together.
Academia feels… familiar.
I’m not sure that belongs in this analogy.
Or maybe it’s the beginning of a different one.
Either way, I have a feeling I’ll keep texting musicians.
(thanks, johnny sunrise)