Four tips for building psychological resilience

Life is often stressful. These stresses can come in all shapes and sizes, from the burden of financial debt to the hassle of a fender-bender; from the heartache of a sick parent to the irritation of a late train. The bottom line is that whatever form it comes in, we can’t avoid stress. So what can we do about it? One obvious suggestion is to reduce the amount we’re exposed to: pay that bill a.s.a.p. and be careful to avoid other cars when parking in multi-storey car parks. This is good advice, but the reality is that not all stress can be avoided. For these types of stresses, it can help to increase our capacity to cope: our ‘psychological resilience’. But how can we do this? Here, I offer four tips based on research I have conducted into the factors that confer resilience.

1. Know your strengths: build your confidence. My research has shown that having high self-esteem helps people be resilient to stressful events. In a previous blog post, I outline one evidence-based technique for building self-esteem. Briefly, this works by encouraging you to consider your personal ‘strengths’ and then getting you to think of specific pieces of evidence which show that you have this strength. For example, if your strength is that you’re a good listener, a piece of evidence might be that a friend from work confided to you about their recent break-up last week. 

First though, you have to be willing to allow yourself to do this. When I deliver resilience training, many people I speak with are embarrassed to acknowledge the things they’re good at, for fear of appearing egotistical or narcissistic. This belief is both misleading and detrimental, as some individuals who are highly narcissistic in fact report low levels of underlying self-esteem. The reality is that knowing your strengths can help you to build a quiet confidence that will improve the way you work, and will not make you appear egotistical.

resilience

2. Learn to let yourself off the hook. Being a perfectionist is one of the worst things you can do for your mental health. It’s linked with higher levels of depression, anxiety and self-harm and it’s terrible for psychological resilience. What this tells us is that reducing our perfectionism could boost our psychological wellbeing and levels of resilience. There are misconceptions around perfectionism though, with people sometimes fearing that being less perfectionistic could make them less effective or high achieving. This isn’t the case. Perfectionism is about rigidity: it’s when people push themselves hard, no matter what. Being less perfectionistic involves self-awareness. It’s about knowing when to strive and push forward, and when to let yourself off the hook. If you’re a fitness enthusiast, this might involve knowing when it’s time to take a couple of days off training. If you’re a dedicated student, it might be knowing when it’s time take the afternoon off revision to see friends. For detailed suggestions on tackling perfectionism, see my previous blog post.

3. Focus on the future. When the present is no fun, it’s important to have things to look forward to, and research shows that having hope for the future can help us be more resilient. These don’t have to be big things, but they need to be clear in your mind. For example, you might enjoy going for a coffee and reading the paper, going for a walk in a park, or reading books. This practice is often incorporated into cognitive-behaviour therapy (CBT), and is called ‘pleasant event scheduling’. A recent study which tested the impact of pleasant event scheduling when done in isolation, without any of the other aspects of CBT, found it was effective in reducing risk of depressed mood. It’s not rocket science though – you can easily do this yourself by making a list of things you’d like to do and then scheduling these in your diary.

resilience

4. Don’t beat yourself up when things go wrong. There are three main ways that we explain negative events in our lives. First is how much we blame ourselves, compared with other people or the situation. Second is how permanent our explanations are: whether the problem that caused this one event is likely to keep on causing negative events in our future. Third is how all-encompassing are explanations are: whether this cause is going to make trouble in other areas of our life, as well. For example, if we were to fail an exam, we could think, “This is all down to my own general stupidity. I knew I’d never get through it”. This explanation is negative as we’re taking the blame entirely on ourselves. We’re also doing it in a permanent, all-encompassing way: if we’re stupid, it’s probably going to affect everything we do, forever.

The way we tend to explain events is habitual and it’s called ‘attributional style’. Resilient people explain events in a way that is more positive. In an exam failure situation, a resilient person would acknowledge any stress they’re under, or any other factors that could have affected their performance. Furthermore, they’ll do this in a way that doesn’t leak into other areas of their life and gives them hope for the future. In this example, a resilient person might think, “It was a stressful time with my mum being ill. I haven’t had to manage this kind of situation before, and the result was that I didn’t allow enough time to revise. I’ve learned for the future though: I know what I’ll do differently next time”. Not only will this person feel less bad about the exam failure, they’re also more likely to pass next time. It’s possible to change the way that you explain events with cognitive-behaviour therapy. For a do-it-yourself approach to improving your attributional style, I’d encourage you to ask yourself three questions when you know you’re beating yourself up about something:

  1. What range of factors contributed to this event? When things go wrong, they can rarely be pinned on just one thing. List all the things you know contributed to the event, to help yourself create a balanced perspective.
  2. What else has gone right recently? Think about other things that went to plan, no matter how small. This might be, for example, a friend’s birthday that you remembered, a work task that you completed well or a tricky conversation that you handled sensitively. It’s important to remember that this negative event doesn’t define you.
  3. What can you do to reduce the chance that a similar event will occur in future? Think about anything you’ve learned from this. Think about any actions you can take, whether this is personal (e.g., allowing more revision time in future) or external (e.g., asking for input from a tutor).

With all of these tips, it’s important to know that having good relationships with friends or family can help. Talking to others about stress you’re experiencing can help you to realise when it’s time to take action and can help you to change your perspective. Have you ever moaned to a friend about a rough day at work, and appreciated it when they pointed out that it wasn’t all your fault? Well, that’s an example of them helping you to develop a more positive attributional style for that event. The take home message is: talk about it! It’s easier than trying to do it alone.

This article was originally posted on the Psychreg website on 14 June 2019.

Breaking bad news in healthcare: why we shoot the messenger

Breaking bad news is a cornerstone of healthcare delivery. From the doctor delivering blood test results in cancer services to the sonographer communicating the discovery of a pregnancy loss, healthcare professionals regularly find themselves in this challenging situation.

But why is it so challenging? In theory, the healthcare professional is simply the messenger: the person relaying information about an event they did not cause and had no influence over. The reality is nothing like this, though. Research tells us that healthcare professionals find these situations highly stressful, particularly when the news is unexpected or seems unusual or unjust. Some end up coping in unhelpful ways; distancing themselves from the patient by using technical language, delaying the communication of the news or avoiding it altogether and passing the task on to someone else. These coping tactics often backfire by creating a more negative experience for the patient and further increasing the stress the healthcare professional feels.

breaking bad news

A recent study has shed light on these conversations, identifying some of the underlying reasons for why these events are quite so difficult for healthcare professionals. This study conducted a series of 11 experiments, which together showed that:

  • After receiving bad news, people feel a need to try and ‘make sense’ of it
  • To help them ‘make sense’ of bad news, people dislike the person who told them, even if they clearly are not to blame for what has happened
  • People dislike the messenger even more if the news is unexpected, or if it is particularly unjust or unusual
  • The reason that people dislike those who tell them bad news is because they think these messengers have bad motives: they mean badly
  • This effect is reduced if recipients of bad news have reason to think the messenger has benevolent motives or means well

This study used a range of news delivery scenarios, including one where a person was told that they had not won a $2 bonus and another where their scheduled flight was running late. However, I think this study has important implications for healthcare settings for three main reasons:

  1. It brings a new perspective to why these events are so challenging for healthcare professionals. It’s not logical, but the truth is that patients will like professionals less when they deliver bad news, and consciously or subconsciously, professionals know this. Building good professional-patient relationships is a key part of healthcare delivery, and having to deliver bad news works against this.
  2. It highlights the situations where delivering bad and difficult news is going to be most challenging. Specifically, these are likely to be where the news is unexpected or where it is particularly unusual or unjust. I think that two key settings where staff should be better supported with this task are obstetric ultrasound and maternity services more broadly, as the news is often unexpected and paediatrics, where bad news could be more likely to be perceived as unusual and unjust. In these situations, the recipients of bad news may have to work harder to make sense of the information they have received, and as such, may be more likely to ‘shoot the messenger’.
  3. It offers a suggestion for how healthcare professionals can reduce the ‘shoot the messenger’ effect: namely, by communicating their benevolent intentions. For example, this could involve saying ‘I’m so sorry, I hoped to bring you better news than this. This must be so difficult for you to hear’. However, doing this requires professionals to be forthcoming and open. Unhelpfully, the impact of stress often has the opposite effect: it inhibits people, making them more careful and wary of saying ‘the wrong thing’; therefore increasing the chance that they’ll say very little. What this research shows is that by going against the natural instinct to say little in stressful situations, healthcare professionals can reduce the ‘shoot the messenger’ effect and help create a better experience for both themselves and their patients. It is also consistent with findings of a review I conducted which showed that training healthcare professionals in breaking bad news works: it enhances their confidence of how to manage these difficult situations and improves their skills.

How to become a psychological therapist without completing an undergraduate psychology degree

It’s not unusual to choose to become a psychological therapist later in life, perhaps as a second career. For example, in 2017, 395 of the applications to the UK Doctorate in Clinical Psychology came from candidates aged over 35. However, most training courses in psychological therapy require an undergraduate psychology degree. What are your options if you don’t have this? Here I offer three routes you might want to consider, depending on your current situation.

  1. You have an undergraduate degree in something else? Do a psychology conversion course

If you have an undergraduate degree in any other area, you can ‘convert’ your degree by completing a psychology conversion diploma (PGDip) or MSc course.

The key thing is to check that your chosen course is accredited by the British Psychological Society (BPS) and will provide you with Graduate Basis for Chartered Membership (GBC). The BPS currently lists 171 such courses nationally. The entry requirements for these vary, so it’s worth checking these on their websites and contacting them directly with any queries you might have. Two to consider are:

  1. Birkbeck, London’s ‘evening university’. Birkbeck offers two accredited psychology conversion courses, the Postgraduate Diploma and the Psychology MSc, both of which are designed for candidates with an undergraduate degree in another area. Both courses can be completed in a year full-time or two years part-time and involve attending lectures 4 or 2 evenings a week. I spoke to the admissions tutor, Dr Eddy J Davelaar, who is a Reader in Cognitive Science about Birkbeck’s entry requirements. He said “While the course is designed for non-psychology graduates, it is a postgraduate course. A certain level of pre-existing knowledge in research methods is needed. Where applicants have no such background, they may be made a conditional offer dependent upon their passing an online entrance exam in research methods. They will need to pass at 60% (if applying to study full-time) or at 50% (if applying to study part-time)”. However, if this is you: don’t panic. Birkbeck will assist you in identifying relevant courses (online or at the university) or practice materials to help you prepare for the entrance exam.john-schnobrich-520019-unsplash
  2. If you’re looking for a distance learning course, check out the MSc/PgDip Psychology (Conversion) courses offered by Manchester Metropolitan University. These can be completed in 12 months full-time or around 2 years part-time (21 months for the PgDip; 24 months for the MSc). These courses are taught entirely online, requiring no attendance at the Manchester campus. In terms of entry requirements, pre-existing psychology credits are needed for the PgDip route but not for the MSc. Further guidance on the qualities the course looks for in prospective candidates are outlined on their website and include commitment and motivations, IT skills and the ability to study independently.

Once you have your conversion degree, you can choose to pursue any psychology career which appeals to you, such as Clinical Psychology, Counselling Psychology or Forensic Psychology. Each of these requires further study, but there are opportunities for paid employment and development within these training routes. For example, once you have your degree, you can apply for Assistant Psychologist roles within the NHS which are usually appointed at Band 4 or Band 5 and provide further experience for subsequent psychology career specialties. Sign up to jobs.nhs.uk for alerts. You can also apply for research assistant posts at universities, which offer paid experience for psychology graduates interested in pursuing research-related careers. Sign up to jobs.ac.uk for updates. For further info on therapy-related psychology careers, see my previous blog.

  1. You have a background in mental health from a non-psychology discipline? Train in Cognitive Behaviour Therapy

An alternative to traditional psychology specialisms is to train as a Cognitive Behaviour Therapist. Cognitive Behaviour Therapy is an evidence-based, goal-oriented, time limited therapy. It is the most commonly delivered therapy in the NHS and the main focus of the Increasing Access to Psychology Therapies (IAPT) initiative, which delivers psychological therapies in primary care settings.

Perhaps the most interesting thing about this route is that it isn’t accredited by the BPS, but by the British Association for Behavioural and Cognitive Psychotherapies (BABCP). As such, you don’t need a psychology degree to start training. Instead, you need to have a background in one of the listed ‘Core Professions’, which include Mental Health Nursing, Occupational Therapy and Social Work, amongst others. If you have one of these core professions, you already hold the basic entry requirement for further training to become an accredited CBT therapist.

If you are choosing to self-fund your CBT training, check out the BABCP list of accredited ‘Level 2’ courses. Completing one of these will make you eligible for registration as a CBT Therapist and able to apply for Band 7 CBT posts in the NHS. Courses are 1 or 2 years long and involve supervised CBT practice on placement and attending teaching at university. You can apply directly to universities such as Birmingham and Bucks New University. Entry requirements vary between courses, but most stipulate that 2 years’ experience of working in mental health is a pre-requisite. Self-funded applicants are expected to have a pre-arranged placement where they can undertake supervised CBT practice to gain the relevant experience they need. At Birmingham, this is stipulated as 3 days a week for a year. At New Bucks, this is stipulated as 200 hours in total.

There is also the option to pursue paid training routes in CBT. For less experienced mental health professionals, this may initially involve training and working as a Psychological Wellbeing Practitioner (PWP) in Primary Care. These posts are usually appointed at Band 4 and promoted to Band 5 once training has been completed. PWPs deliver low-intensity CBT interventions, such as guided self-help and psychoeducation groups. To then train as a CBT therapist (termed ‘High Intensity Therapists’ or ‘HITs’), you apply directly to services for specific roles, rather than to universities. HITs train on a Band 6 and can apply for Band 7 roles once qualified. For training opportunities in both roles, search nhs.jobs.uk for ‘trainee’ positions.

you've got this

  1. Looking for a third way? Consider a career in counselling or psychotherapy

While the BPS is the accrediting body for psychological therapists and the BABCP is the accrediting body for Cognitive Behaviour Therapists, the BACP accredits counselling and psychotherapy courses. They all share similar letters, so beware of confusing them!

Counsellors can train in a range of therapy modalities, from Freud’s psychoanalysis to Roger’s person-centred (or ‘humanistic’) counselling. Once qualified, they can work independently, for the NHS or for third sector organisations. Training courses usually focus on one of these therapy modalities in particular, but the BACP suggests that counsellors may use a mix of techniques if they think a client would find this helpful.

Counselling training pathways exist separately from psychology or CBT training routes, and as such, no background in either of these is needed. Instead, the training involves 3 stages:

Stage 1: An introductory course lasting 8-12 weeks, usually run as evening courses at local Further Education colleges.

Stage 2: The Certificate in Counselling Skills, a year-long part-time course also usually run at local colleges.

Stage 3: The core practitioner training at diploma, undergraduate, postgraduate or doctorate level.

For Stage 1 and 2 courses, the BACP recommends contacting local colleges and education centres. However, for the core practitioner training, check their website for accredited courses. A wide variety of options are available, from weekend courses run by independent training centres to university-run MSc degrees. For an example of an independent training centre, see the South Manchester for Psychotherapy, which offers a 4-year, part-time Diploma in psychotherapy. For an example of university-run core practitioner training, see the University of Salford which runs both a postgraduate diploma and an MSc. These courses run part-time, with the diploma last 2 years and the MSc lasting 3 years.

This article was first posted on the Psychreg blog on 23rd May 2019.

Thalidomide: Nine things you didn’t know about the ‘poisonous pill’

Thalidomide was marketed to pregnant women as an antidote for morning sickness in the late 1950s, but the results were calamitous. An epidemic of babies born with various disabilities including limb, organ and neural damage led to its withdrawal from sale in November 1961. There were over 5000 known thalidomide survivors living worldwide in 2003, including 500 in the UK.

As a healthcare researcher, I had come to understand the thalidomide catastrophe as a systems failure: the disastrous outcome of an inadequate medications approval process. My dad, Dr Martin Johnson, was Director of the UK Thalidomide Trust between 2000 and 2014, and through him I had come to learn about its terrible impacts upon individuals and their families. I also understood that many survivors were still awaiting justice. However, in 2018, together with his co-authors Professor Ray Stokes and Tobias Arndt, dad published ‘The Thalidomide Catastrophe’, the first and only comprehensive history of thalidomide. Reading it led me to realise I had been seeing through a glass darkly. When laid bare, the thalidomide story is stunning, shocking and almost unbelievable. Here I share with you nine things I learned from the book:

Ed, aged 3

Ed, aged 3

  1. The full number of people affected by the drug reached tens of thousands. It is well known that thalidomide caused babies to be born with disabilities. However, it is highly likely that many other children died in the days and months after birth and that even more were miscarried or stillborn because of thalidomide. Johnson, Stokes and Arndt estimate that altogether, between 87,600 and 275,500 babies were affected.
  2. A single tablet had disastrous effects. Researchers have been able to link the days on which tablets were taken with specific forms of damage. For example, a tablet on days 21-22 after conception could cause damage to, or loss of the eyes. A tablet on day 24 could cause loss of the arms and a tablet on day 29 could cause loss of the legs. The key message from this is that the babies who survived thalidomide were those whose mothers took a tiny amount of the ‘poisonous pill’.
  3. Key players in the development of thalidomide are linked with the Nazi regime. The book explores this issue in meticulous depth and it is hard to summarise the evidence briefly. However, two things are clear. The first is that the Chief Scientist of Chemie Grunenthal, the Germany company who patented the drug, was Dr Heinrich Muckter. Muckter spent World War 2 (WW2) at an institution which tested drugs on Buchenwald concentration camp prisoners. The second is that Otto Ambros was a consultant for the Distillers Company, the British organisation which distributed Thalidomide in the UK. Ambros was sentenced to 8 years for his war crimes during WW2, which included using slave labour from the Auschwitz III-Monowitz concentration camp.
  4. Thalidomide seriously harmed adults too. When taken for more than 2 weeks, thalidomide could cause adults to contract ‘polyneuritis’, nerve damage involving symptoms such as tingling, numbness, excruciating muscle cramping and even partial paralysis. It could affect coordination, balance and the ability to walk. Altogether, around half a million adults were probably affected. “The Thalidomide Catatrophe” provides the response from Chemie Grunenthal to one affected surgeon who used the drug. “Thank you for your letter of 8th March 1960 in which you tell us you are increasingly suffering from paraesthesia and… probable polyneuritis… We wish to advise you that we have received no such reports to date” (p110). This letter was a lie: the company had received several reports and their false reassurance may have caused the surgeon to keep taking the harmful drug. As Johnson, Arndt and Stokes comment, these effects probably cost this surgeon his career.

    TIna Gallagher

    Tina Gallagher in 2002

  5. Warnings the drug was dangerous were ignored. To this date, Chemie Grunenthal claim that they could not have known about the harmful potential of Thalidomide. The evidence presented by Johnson, Stokes and Arndt makes this almost impossible to believe. For example, there is clear evidence Grunenthal’s Chief Scientist, Heinrich Muckter, received warnings a year before thalidomide even went to market from Dr Piacenza, an Italian doctor who undertook trials of the drug. Writing in 1956, Piacenza reported that the drug was unsuitable due to its toxicity. He described side effects in adult patients which included a whole-body rash and peripheral nerve damage. Reports from concerned physicians continued to be sent to Grunenthal, but the drug was not removed from market. Concerns were also raised about the potential harmful effects of thalidomide on unborn babies. For example, in 1959, scientist Dr Randolph Riemschneider raised concerns that thalidomide was causing birth defects in tadpoles he was experimenting with. As he later recorded, “we sent this information with photos to Chemie Grunenthal… Unfortunately, no answer was forthcoming” (p115).
  6. Even when its impact was known, Chemie Grunenthal continued to sell thalidomide. There were warnings that thalidomide was harmful before it even went to market. However, Chemie Grunenthal did not publicly acknowledge its harmful potential until 1961. In a speech on 14th July that year, Heinrich Muckter, Grunenthal’s Chief Scientist told his staff, “if I were a doctor, I would not prescribe Contergan [trade name for thalidomide] any more. Gentleman, I warn you… I see great dangers” (p41). Yet he didn’t withdraw the drug from sale until November that year. If he had pulled it immediately after his speech, more than 25% of the babies who were affected would have been saved.
  7. The impacts of thalidomide are sometimes invisible. Not all survivors were affected by the limb damage which is characteristic of thalidomide. As a toxic nerve agent, it also caused devastating hidden damage. Johnson, Stokes and Arndt report the situation of Julie Lane, whose mother had been supplied with the drug. Outwardly, Julie only had minor hand damage. However, at a young age, she developed epileptic fits. In her teens, she lost the use of her legs and later on, her arms. She also gradually lost her hearing and her sight. As her epileptic brain activity was not typical, her symptoms were misdiagnosed as being psychosomatic, and not of physical origin. This caused her problems to be stigmatised. However, a post-mortem conducted after she died aged 44 showed evidence of major internal damage which had been there since birth.
  8. Survivors still wait for justice. Chemie Grunenthal, the company which patented thalidomide, has never been held to account. A trial was called in 1968 but later suspended, apparently on the basis that “public interest in a continuation of the criminal prosecution no longer exists” (p.131). In the UK, Distillers, the company which distributed the drug paid out some compensation following a lengthy legal battle. However, survivors in some other countries have never received compensation, and all survivors are still waiting for an apology from Chemie Grunenthal.
  9. Some countries protected their populations from thalidomide. Several countries which considered licensing thalidomide denied or significantly restricted the sale of the drug. These included Turkey, East Germany, the USA and France. In Turkey, Dr Aygun undertook tests involving tissue cultures and concluded the drug was unsafe in 1960. In East Germany, the relevant officials had concerns based simply on the information supplied in the patent. They noted that due to the structure of the molecule, an “embryo-toxic effect” (p124) was possible. They refused a licence. In the USA, Dr Frances Kelsey resisted significant pressure from the prospective American licensee company (Richardson Merrell) and managed to delay the approval of the drug until it was removed from sale in 1961. Her delay meant that only around 160 babies are estimated to have been affected by thalidomide in the USA. What these countries show is that the toxic properties of thalidomide were possible to identify using the technologies and processes of the time. Those governments which failed to prevent the distribution of thalidomide are partly to blame for the disaster, and should also be held to account.

 

In 2019, the generation of thalidomide survivors is turning 60. What “The Thalidomide Catastrophe” makes clear is this: the international sale of the drug was preventable. Its risks should have been identified by the company which patented the drug, those which distributed it and by the governments which allowed its sale. The damage which was initially caused has been extended over six decades by a failure to acknowledge and apologise for the harm that was caused. The need for an apology remains.

How to start a journal and beat the academic publishing racket

Academic publishing is a multi-billion pound industry, with profit margins reportedly higher than those of Apple, Google and Amazon. It has always struck me as a racket: academics sign over their work to private businesses for free, and then their universities pay the same businesses hefty fees in order to read what they publish. Academics are also responsible for editing these journals and providing the peer-reviews, usually for free.

It hasn’t always been this way. In a remarkable brief history of the academic publishing industry, Stephen Buranyi highlights the key role of Robert Maxwell, a brash business tycoon whose greatest desire was to “be a millionaire”. Maxwell arrived on the scene just after the Second World War, which was a key turning point in academic history. The post-war years saw a huge growth in the number of people attending higher education and also in the academic publishing trade. In 1950, there were 10,000 journals published worldwide, but by 1980, this was had reached 62,000. Robert Maxwell and other businessmen capitalised on this growth and took the opportunity to privatise what had previously been a largely non-profit sector. There is now growing awareness that this industry is both ludicrous and detrimental, unwieldily costly and harmful to the progression of science. However, solutions are slow in coming. While open-access journals are growing, the majority of these charge fees for publication that far outstrip real costs. For these reasons, I have been intrigued and encouraged to see the development of peer-reviewed open access journals which do not charge authors to publish with them. These include Musicology Research Journal (MRJ), whose Chief Editor is Dr James Williams, Senior Lecturer at the University of Derby, and Psychreg Journal of Psychology (PJP), whose Chief Editor is Dennis Relojo-Howell, founder of leading psychology blog Psychreg. These journals offer a solution that previously would have been regarded as impossible: they are both free to the authors and free to readers. I spoke to Williams and Relojo-Howell to understand more about their journals.

Why start a peer-reviewed academic journal?

As both Williams and Relojo-Howell attested, self-publishing an academic journal is a significant amount of work. So why do it? Williams said his motivation arose from his experience as a PhD Student and early career researcher. “Acceptance of manuscripts in current musicology-based journals can sometimes feel a little elitist. Editors and traditional publishers prefer to go with already-known academics, and are less likely to take on manuscripts from early-career scholars”. Williams also described his dissatisfaction with the traditional academic publishing industry, and its money-oriented focus. MRJ meets this gap by focusing on publishing the work of early career researchers, and by managing all copy-editing and manuscript management in-house. Relojo-Howell’s motivation was different. As a psychology blog editor, he had begun to receive blog post submissions that were overly long and technical. These posts weren’t suitable for publication as blog posts, but he could see their importance and academic merit. He created the journal to provide an outlet for these articles, and to broaden the overall scope of Psychreg. 

Ten steps for starting a journal

Whatever the focus of your journal, the steps for setting one up are similar.

  1. Identify the gap. What is the need your journal will meet? How will it improve information sharing in your field? Once you’ve identified this gap, you need to set the scope of your journal. Decide which types of articles you will include, and those you won’t.journal website
  2. Build a website that will home your journal. A full description of this process is beyond the capacity of this article (and my expertise!) but the key parts of this are to buy a domain name, find a web hosting company and then prepare the content within this. Popular web-creation platforms are wordpress.com, wix.com and weebly.com. Relojo-Howell suggested that it’s also worth looking into the Public Knowledge Project: this provides Open Journal Systems (OJS), federally funded software designed to support the set up and management of open access journals.
  3. Set up an editorial board. Both Williams and Relojo-Howell highlighted the importance of this. First, this group can provide the strategic direction and support that can get your journal started and help it grow. Second, this group can provide credibility to the project. As Relojo-Howell said, “When I started, potential contributors were only interested in who was on the editorial board. I have never been asked about the journal’s impact factor”.
  4. Involve associate editors who can provide support. Williams described the importance of including a multi-skilled team. “We have editors with different areas of expertise and varying skillsets, including people who are familiar with copy-editing and academic publishing”.
  5. Call for papers. You can spread the word about your new journal via social media, personal networks and by contacting other relevant university departments. Neither Williams nor Relojo-Howell had found this aspect challenging. As Williams said, “We have only ever advertised the journal in the UK, but we have received submissions from Australia, Canada, the USA and Asia”.academic publishing
  6. Manage your submissions. Traditional journals use manuscript-management software, but this comes with a steep price tag. “I contacted Emerald about their systems”, Relojo-Howell said, “but they asked for £38k”. Open Journal Systems (OJS) provides an alternative, free-to-use alternative, but this isn’t necessary. “I use a spread-sheet to keep on top of submissions”, Williams said. “It works fine”.
  7. Copy-edit and type-set your articles. While this may feel like a challenge, both Williams and Relojo-Howell said it was possible to do using widely available software. Williams said that he uses Word and Adobe programs to provide a professional-looking finish to his articles. Relojo-Howell commented on the fonts he uses: “I use a combination of paid-for fonts and some free Google fonts”.
  8. Apply for an International Standard Serial Number (ISSN). For us in the UK, this involves submitting an application to the British Library. Williams suggested that the British Library will expect to see evidence of around 3-4 previous publications and a commitment to continue publishing on a regular basis.
  9. Plan how to give your articles a Digital Object Identifier (DOI). DOIs are a string of numbers, letters and symbols used to permanently identify an article of document and link it to the web. Relojo-Howell recommends using Zenodo for this purpose. Initially funded by EU project funding, Zenodo is now open to all research outputs and offers its services free of charge for open access publishers.
  10. Wider registration. There are a variety of international platforms with which to register journals, including Web of Science, PubMed and SCOPUS. This type of registration seems to be a longer term process, however. Relojo-Howell said he had contacted both the Directory of Open Access Journals (DOAJ) and Thomson-Reuters, but they indicated that they would expect journals to be up and running for closer to five years before they would register them.

Other considerations

  • Finding peer-reviewers. My colleagues who edit traditional journals have described to me the challenges of finding peer-reviewers. While Williams and Relojo-Howell suggested this could also be challenging with new, open access journals, Williams suggested a personal touch could help support a positive response rate. “We approach academics who are working closely in the field of the article, and send personal requests. 60 or 70 per cent of the time, they agree”.
  • Clarify that you are a genuine academic ground-roots initiative. Unfortunately, at the same time that the genuine open-access field is growing, the number of predatory journals is proliferating at great speed. In a previous post, I clarify the warning signs of academic spam emails. However, if your potential contributors are concerned, let them know that the first clear distinction is that predatory journals ask for large sums of money and usually offer to rush through submissions at great speed. The second clear distinction is your academic board. You can signpost potential contributors to contact your board members for reassurances, if they are concerned.

Is it worth it?

Both Williams and Relojo-Howell admitted that their journals were time consuming and offered no financial benefits. However, what is clear is that starting these journals offers significant job satisfaction. As Williams said, “I saw it as a real problem – I wanted to help other graduating PhD music students… I don’t think I have reaped any rewards for myself, but I do know a lot of people now. It’s great for networking”. Similarly, for Relojo-Howell, the reward lies in contributing towards open science: “I wanted to demonstrate that dissemination of science can be reconstructed to become more democratic – a science that is shared for wider consumption”.