I wrote about Amy Wax, who is a flamboyantly villainous evil professor. She’s still employed by UPenn, still has tenure, and despite fierce censure isn’t at real risk for losing her job. It made me think of a less cartoonishly bad person employed at the University of Minnesota.

Back in 2021, a paper was published that flagged a specific molecule, Aβ*56, as a likely causative agent in Alzheimer’s disease. It came out of the lab of Karen Ashe at the University of Minnesota, and the first author was Sylvain Lesne, a junior associate of Ashe’s. Shortly afterwards, people noticed that some of the data figures had been manipulated. It was obvious. It was the kind of thing that can’t happen accidentally — someone had to have intentionally gone in and shifted bands and added data to the figures.

Ashe has said the right thing, I think.

“Although I had no knowledge of any image manipulations in the published paper until it was brought to my attention two years ago,” Ashe wrote on PubPeer, “it is clear that several of the figures in Lesné et al. (2006) have been manipulated … for which I as the senior and corresponding author take ultimate responsibility.”

I’m willing to believe she didn’t know — I know how PI’s work. She has a team of people who do the actual scientific observations, and they bring images to her, and she trusts them and doesn’t pull up the raw data to scrutinize it with a microscope. But then, if she didn’t do it, who did?

I’m going to guess it wasn’t gremlins scampering about the lab. It wasn’t the custodians maliciously tinkering with the computers while cleaning up late at night. We have to ask who benefits from making the data ‘better,’ and the answer is…Sylvain Lesne. Who is now a full professor at the University of Minnesota. Cool. Although I’d never trust his work after this.

This fraud may not be as damaging as one might fear. I’d guess that the lab already had a fair amount of evidence that Aβ*56 was important; the fraudster wouldn’t invent a new phenomenon out of whole cloth, they’d just make the data they’ve got stronger.

There have been no repercussions to any of the people involved. They all agree (except Lesne, who has been silent) that fraud occurred, that it was done by someone named on the paper, but…nope, nothing has been done.

I find that extremely disturbing, that there is false evidence floating around in the literature, and no culprit has been recognized, and no one is even trying to find out who is responsible. I once found that our distilled water system was producing slightly contaminated water, and I spent days tearing down the still and scrubbing and sterilizing every component to remove the problem, but a taint in the research system? Nah, we can’t do anything about that.

Stanford University is rich — $30 billion endowment, all that silicon valley money flowing their way — and you’d think that would translate into well-supported education. Working against that, though, is that universities, even private universities, tend to be ruled by regents chosen for their wealth and conservative bias, and somehow they always decide against egalitarianism and education. Senior faculty also become jealous and protective of their privilege, and can do great harm to their discipline. That’s how great universities erode into mediocrity.

So now the university has decided to terminate a prestigious creative writing program.

I want to add more detail below to the decision made last week by Stanford University: All twenty-three Creative Writing Lecturers were told they’d be fired, some this academic year, some next academic year. This is a group of lecturers who have — along with our students — built one of the top CW programs in the country, and who have done so with very little university support over the last four years, since the death of our fierce, mighty, and visionary program director Eavan Boland.

Creative writing programs are an important part of a liberal arts curriculum. I can tell you having taught creative writing, a lot of students have a dull, plodding approach to writing and it takes a great deal of effort to teach them to add a little fire or music to their writing. Stanford can afford to maintain a great creative writing program, but apparently doesn’t want to. Why? There are hints in the pattern of firings.

• The Jones Lecturers asked for a raise in 2023 (many lecturers made around $52,000), and exactly a year later, all of the lecturers who asked for pay raise were told they’d be fired. This seems beyond suspicious to us and to our students, and is in fact outrageous.
• The deans and our own director clearly indicated in the August 21 meeting that we would be replaced with younger and lower-paid lecturers. This is also evident in the university’s online statement here. Again, completely outrageous.
• It was the Senior Professors of our Creative Writing Program who voted to fire us, their junior colleagues, but interestingly… it was only the MALE professors who voted to fire us. Not one woman professor voted to fire the Jones Lecturers. And the decision to fire us was clearly not unanimous, and in fact received pushback from the English Department and in other quarters in the university.

Oh. They fired all the professors who had dared to ask for a raise ($52K/year would be a stretch in Morris, Minnesota, but Palo Alto? Insane), they are completely changing the program to be taught by adjuncts with one-year appointments, and huh…it was the men among the senior professoriate who decided to kill the program.

They’re turning a bunch of skilled writers loose with a solid dose of resentment? That’s a great way to build your brand, Stanford.

This is Charles Conteh, a political scientist at Brock University in Canada.

He had a post-doc named Amy Lemay. They worked together on a paper; reading between the lines, it sounds like an awkward partnership. She provided lots of data, but suggested that it really needed to be split into a couple of papers. Conteh disagreed.

In emails seen by Retraction Watch, Conteh asked Lemay and another faculty member for feedback in March 2023, on a draft of the article they were writing. After reviewing their feedback, Conteh said he could no longer proceed with the project, citing “serious reservations” about Lemay’s suggestions to publish separate papers based on policy reports they had produced for Niagara’s Community Observatory platform.

“We can (and most likely will) cite them in future papers, but I object to the idea of us reproducing and republishing them in their current forms,” Conteh wrote in an email seen by Retraction Watch. “I plan to revisit this project at a future date, but at this point, after some reflection, what I can candidly say is that I am not clear about a collaborative way forward.”

So far, so good. As the primary author, it was Conteh’s decision whether the work was ready to publish or not, and it’s actually commendable to not clutter the literature with a paper that was not up to standards. I’m on his side on that, so far.

Except…Conteh then went ahead and published the paper without attribution or acknowledgment anyway! He didn’t even inform his collaborators what he was doing, and they discovered accidentally that he’d dissolved their partnership and intentionally done the exact opposite of what he’d said he would do!

Months later, Lemay discovered the published paper online by accident. The article used text from the policy briefs she had worked on, without citing those sources.

Yikes. I wonder if maybe his relationship with his post-doc was rocky and contentious — I’ve known from first-hand experience a post-doc with an extraordinarily bad relationship with his PI — but that does not excuse improper attribution, and worst of all, plagiarism. Conteh is clearly in the wrong here.

But he then he slathered on a good-sized dollop of bullshit on his behavior, and any sympathy evaporated.

Lemay asked Conteh to add her as a co-author to the paper. In October, Conteh asked a journal editor if the authorship could be updated to include Lemay and another co-author’s name.

Conteh replied he was “glad that you’ve suddenly taken an interest in being a co-author in the manuscript now that it has been published. I am adding your name not because I think you deserve it or are entitled to it, but because it is the noble thing to do.”

You don’t get to magically turn plagiarism into nobility by slapping on an author’s name — that sounds more like you’re trying to buy her cooperation with an authorship, which is not noble at all. Also, if you think she does not deserve it, how is adding an unwarranted authorship “noble”? Get off that high horse, Dr Conteh. You’re just another opportunist.

I also see how Conteh could be a difficult person to work with.

The paper has been retracted, and a Brock University inquiry found Conteh in the wrong.

Another interesting point:

Though she recently finished a postdoc, Lemay worked in academia for 25 years before pursuing her PhD. At this point in her career, she said, she is not intimidated by the “power imbalance” in academia, as some younger students who are still forging a career path may be.

Yes, the hierarchical nature of academia is itself an obstacle to progress.