academic publishing Archives - Judith Johnson PhD

In my last post, I explained the main routes into PhD study and how to fund them. That post assumed you would be doing a PhD in the usual way, by carrying out a programme of research over three years or more. But every so often someone gets in touch to ask: ‘I have already published a lot of research. Do I really need to do a whole PhD from scratch, or could I do it by publication?’

The answer is that you may well be able to, through the ‘PhD by publication’ route. This works quite differently from a standard doctorate. There is also a related but separate option, often confused with it, called the ‘publication format PhD’. The two sound almost identical, and the terminology used across universities sometimes overlaps, so it is easy to mix them up.

In this post I will explain what each one is and how they differ. I will then cover how to find a university that offers it and how to approach them, what it costs, and how to decide whether this route is the right one for you. As with my funding post, the focus here is the UK, with a Manchester slant: I am Manchester based, and so are most of the people who ask me about this.

Two routes that sound the same but are not

The single most useful thing to understand is that these are two different things. Here is the distinction at a glance, with the detail below.

	PhD by publication	Publication format PhD
What is assessed	Research you have already published	A new programme of doctoral research, presented as papers
What it involves	A commentary tying your published work together, then a viva	The full PhD: research, supervision and examination
Typical registration	Around a year	Three to four years full-time, longer part-time
Cost and funding	Roughly a year’s fee; rarely funded	Standard PhD fees; eligible for the usual funding routes
Also known as	PhD by published work; PhD by prior publication	Thesis by publication; alternative format; integrated thesis; journal format; three-paper PhD

A PhD by publication is a way of being awarded a doctorate on the basis of research you have already published. You do not carry out a new research project. Instead, you gather a coherent body of your existing published work, write a piece to explain how it fits together and what it contributes to your field, and you are then examined on it, usually with a viva.

A publication format PhD, by contrast, is a way of writing up an ordinary, enrolled PhD. The difference is in the shape of the final thesis. Rather than producing one long, traditional monograph, you submit a series of papers, some or all of which may be published, accepted or written in the style of journal articles, held together by an introduction and conclusion. I call it a ‘thesis sandwich’, where the introduction and discussion are the bread and the papers are the filling. I support all my students to write up in this format where possible, as in my experience, it increases the chances they will publish their work in peer-reviewed journals.

The PhD by publication, in more detail

In practice, this means submitting a coherent selection of your published outputs together with a written commentary (often called a critical appraisal) that ties them together, followed by a viva, judged to the same standard as a conventional PhD. You may not be required to be the first author on all the outputs you submit, but you will be asked to evidence your own contribution to co-authored work, and your relationship with your submitted work will be scrutinised as part of the process.

The biggest catch is eligibility, which varies. Some UK PhD by publication routes are reserved for a university’s own staff or graduates, while others are open to anyone who already holds a degree and can show a strong body of published work. To show the range, I selected six illustrative universities: the three in Manchester, which are local to me, and three others (Leicester, the University of East Anglia (UEA) and Warwick) whose rules span the restrictive and open ends. Not all UK universities offer the route, so if you have a particular university in mind, first check that it offers the option at all. Here is how the six universities compare, based on their current regulations.

University	Who can apply	Registration period	Commentary length
Manchester	Own academic staff who have held their post for at least five years	Up to 12 months	Up to 15,000 words
Manchester Met	Staff, partner-institution staff and alumni; graduates of five years’ standing holding a Master’s	Six months full-time as standard	Up to 15,000 words
Salford	Open: a Master’s or good honours degree, plus a prima facie assessment	One year, plus a completion year	Up to 15,000 words
Leicester	Own academic staff (three years full-time or six years part-time), or NHS clinical or scientific staff with a three-year honorary position	One year	Around 5,000 words
UEA	Graduates of UEA or another approved university	Normally six months, extendable to twelve	Up to 15,000 words
Warwick	University staff of three years’ standing, or any graduate of seven years’ standing	Normally 12 months	5,000 to 10,000 words

Beyond what is in the table, a few points are worth knowing about each. At the University of Manchester, you apply through your Faculty Doctoral Academy, setting out the theme connecting your published works and the extent of your own contribution (the full regulations are online). The examination is unusual in that it normally involves two external examiners and no internal examiner, with a member of staff acting as an independent chair.

At Manchester Metropolitan University, the regulations take a broad view of what counts as a publication, including books, chapters, refereed journal articles, published conference papers, patents, and even exhibitions or performances where a permanent record exists. There is no fixed number of publications required; instead you agree a suitable selection with an internal advisor before enrolling, and the same advisor (rather than a supervisory team) helps you compile the commentary and prepare for the viva.

The University of Salford explicitly designed its route for people who did not follow the traditional path into research, especially in practice-based disciplines (see the appendix of its Code of Practice). The prima facie assessment mentioned in the table is a preliminary review, involving a written report and an oral discussion, in which a panel judges whether your published works form a coherent theme and a sufficient contribution to knowledge. A claim is normally based on five to eight publications or equivalent, usually published within the previous ten years, and you register only once the works are complete.

At the University of Leicester, the works themselves must already have been published or accepted for publication when you submit, normally as or in scholarly books or journals, and normally within the ten years before you first register. The number of works is not prescribed, but together they should be at least equivalent in size to a typical doctoral thesis in the discipline (see Senate Regulation 9).

At UEA, the combined length of your publications and the 15,000 word critical analysis should be broadly comparable to a standard doctoral thesis (typically 80,000 to 100,000 words), and the quality of the journals you have published in is assessed as part of the application (see the regulations).

At Warwick, the university’s guidance notes that you do not need to be a Warwick graduate to apply, and the examination is conducted by two external examiners supported by an experienced examination adviser.

How to find the right university for a PhD by publication, and how to approach them

Start with eligibility. Begin by drawing up a shortlist of places where you qualify, using their current regulations. If you are a member of staff somewhere, or a graduate of an institution that admits its alumni, that is the obvious first port of call. If not, look to the more open routes, such as Salford or UEA, where an existing degree and a strong body of work can be enough.

Next, find someone whose research aligns with yours. These routes still need an academic to support you, whether that is called a supervisor, an advisor or a mentor, so identify a potential person, not just an institution. Read the recent work of academics in your field at your shortlisted universities and note who is active in the area your publications sit in. Supervisor and topic fit matters more than institutional prestige here, just as it does for a standard PhD.

Then make contact early, and informally. Manchester asks staff to seek approval from their Faculty Doctoral Academy before proceeding, MMU requires a discussion with a proposed advisor before you apply, and Salford runs a prima facie assessment before registration. In other words, the first move is usually a conversation, not a formal application. A short, tailored email to a relevant academic, or to the university’s Doctoral Academy, Graduate School or Doctoral School, is the right way in. Briefly describe your body of published work, the theme that connects it, and ask whether they would consider supporting a PhD by publication application, offering to send your CV and a list of publications.

In terms of preparation, you could put together a one-page summary of the theme running through your publications, and a note of your own contribution to each (especially any co-authored work). This will make your email far more persuasive, and it is also more or less what the formal application or prima facie stage will ask for later. If you are not sure who to contact, the university’s doctoral admissions team, often called the Doctoral Academy or Graduate School, is the right front door and can confirm your eligibility before you invest too much time.

What about the cost?

The PhD by publication is usually cheaper than traditional PhD programmes, because it is shorter. Rather than paying tuition fees across three or more years, you pay for a brief registration period, typically a year or so, with the fee payable on registration. Do watch for one-off costs that are particular to this route, though. Salford, for instance, charges a separate fee for the prima facie assessment you must pass before you can even register, and some universities charge an additional fee if your thesis has to be resubmitted and re-examined.

The bigger catch is that the published-work route is rarely funded. Because you are not undertaking a funded research project, the stipends, studentships and most of the fellowships I described in the funding post generally do not apply to it. In practice it tends to be paid for out of your own pocket, or supported by your employer if the work aligns with your job, so it is well worth asking them.

Is a PhD by publication actually the best route for you?

As with funding, it depends on where you are starting from. If you already have a strong, coherent body of published research, the PhD by publication can be an efficient and fitting way to gain a doctorate. However, just because you can take the published-work route does not always mean it is the most rewarding one. A traditional PhD is a developmental experience as much as an assessment. It gives you sustained mentorship from supervisors, a cohort of peers and a research community to belong to, structured training and development events, conferences and networking, and access to funding and schemes that are open only to enrolled doctoral students. For many people, that immersion is where they grow into independent researchers, and it can open doors that a faster recognition of existing work does not.

Where to find more information on the illustrative university policies

The key points above were synthesised from the university policy documents below using Claude Fable, an AI model, so do check the points that matter to you against the original policies before proceeding. Universities also update their regulations periodically, so make sure you are reading the current version.

University of Manchester. The link opens the PhD by Published Work Regulations PDF directly (version dated October 2025). Eligibility is in paragraph 1, the 12-month registration period in paragraphs 6 and 10, the 15,000-word statement in paragraph 19, and the examination arrangements in paragraph 27.

Manchester Metropolitan University. The relevant document is Regulations for Postgraduate Research Degrees: Doctor of Philosophy (PhD) by Published Works (PDF). Eligibility is in sections 3.1 and 3.2, the types of publication accepted in section 2.1, the registration periods in section 7.1, the advisor arrangement in sections 8.1 and 8.2, and the 15,000-word commentary limit in section 11.2.

University of Salford. The relevant document is the Code of Practice for the Conduct of Postgraduate Research Degree Programmes 2025/26 (PDF), listed under Part E of the university’s Academic handbook page. Everything relevant is in Appendix 1, ‘Guidance for the Award of PhD by Published Works’, on pages 26 to 33: the requirements, including the five to eight publications, on page 26; eligibility and the prima facie assessment on page 27; and the registration period and 15,000-word critical review on page 29. Fees, including the prima facie assessment fee, are on the fees and funding page.

University of Leicester. The link opens Senate Regulation 9 (PDF) directly. The relevant part is Appendix One, ‘Regulations Governing Research Degree by Published Work Programmes’, on pages 34 to 39: eligibility is on page 34 (regulation (1)9.4), the one-year registration period on page 35 ((1)9.16 and (1)9.17), and the requirements for the works and the 5,000-word critical appraisal on page 38 ((1)9.44 to (1)9.47).

University of East Anglia. The PhD by Publication page on the UEA website sets out the award regulations in full. Eligibility is in regulation 2.1, the length and journal-quality requirements in 2.2, the six-month period of study in 3.1, and the 15,000-word critical analysis in 5.2.

University of Warwick. The PhD by Published Work course page covers who can apply, the registration period and fees. The examination arrangements are in a separate document, the Guidance on the Requirements for the Award of Postgraduate Research Degrees, under the section on the appointment of examiners.

There’s something uniquely satisfying about finishing the discussion section of a paper – it signals you’re in the homeward stretch, tying up all those loose ends before hitting ‘save’. Yet many academics I work with tell me this is where they get stuck, staring at a blank page and wondering where to start.

The pressure to publish has never been greater. Younger cohorts of academics are writing more than ever before, publishing greater numbers of shorter reports. This can be particularly challenging for those of us who find academic writing difficult – and by all accounts, this is most of us. However, there’s no reason that your discussion section should be a stumbling block to getting that paper finished. In my view, the discussion is the homeward stretch of the paper, where you quickly tie things up before hitting ‘save’ and ‘submit’.

In this post, I outline an easy formula which takes the pain out of the discussion section. To illustrate what I mean, I’ll refer to a paper I published with my collaborators in 2024 describing a pilot evaluation of a psychological intervention for medical students, which you can read here.

Five sections, not one overwhelming task

Your discussion might need to be around 1000 or 1500 words, but here’s the good news: these are usually divided into five sections. When you break it down this way, you’re only writing 200-300 words per section on average. Suddenly, that intimidating 1500-word discussion becomes five manageable mini-tasks:

Summary of findings – A brief recap of what you found
Interpretations of the findings – How your results fit with existing research and extend knowledge
Strengths and limitations – A balanced self-critique
Implications – What your findings mean for practice and future research
Conclusion – A brief wrap-up

It helps to write the summary of findings section first as this can clarify your key points. Apart from this though, the sections can be written in any order which works best for you. So, follow the path of least resistance and start with the sections you’ll find easiest. Getting started is often the hardest part, and as words fill the page, it can give you the encouragement you need to take on trickier sections.

Starting with the easiest win: Your summary

If you’ve just written and reviewed the results section of your report, the first paragraph will be straightforward. You pick out the main findings and report these without referring to numbers. Think of this as the “greatest hits” version of your results – the key takeaways that matter most.

In terms of ordering the report of the findings, this can be done in one of two ways. First, if you have multiple aims or objectives, it can make sense to report results in line with how these were ordered in the ‘aims’ subsection. Second, if you only have one or two main aims but several findings, it can make sense to go with the most important first. Some authors like to re-state the research question or aims at the beginning of the discussion and summary section, but this can be a poor use of words. Usually, it’s sufficient to simply describe briefly what the study did, or it’s fine to go ahead and launch into the results summary.

In our 2024 paper on the psychological coaching programme for medical students , I opened by noting this was the first study to evaluate this targeted intervention, then summarised the key findings: high acceptability and feasibility, significant improvements in resilience and confidence, and reductions in burnout and depression. I finished with a clear statement: “The present findings extend existing knowledge in two main ways.” This declaration became my roadmap for the entire interpretations section.

The interpretations section: Focus on what your study adds

The interpretations section is always the most difficult, but spend a little time thinking about what your study adds to what is already known. Two or three ideas is enough for a discussion. This is where that roadmap statement comes in handy. End your summary paragraph with a clear declaration:

“This study extends the literature in [insert number] ways”

Your interpretations section can then be structured around this statement, with one paragraph devoted to each of the main extensions. The first sentence of each paragraph should outline the key finding you’ll focus on. Next, describe the findings from previous studies in the area, with reference to whether they are similar or different to the findings from your study. Finally, clarify how your study extends what is known, with a nod to why this is important.

In our paper, the first interpretations paragraph focused on how the coaching programme – a targeted, tailored intervention – showed promising results compared to generic interventions like mindfulness and yoga, which have received mixed evidence in systematic reviews. I was able to position our findings as addressing a gap in the literature: the need for interventions specifically designed for the medical context rather than off-the-shelf solutions.

Being fair to yourself in the limitations

In my experience working with PhD students and early career researchers, I find they’re often excessively critical of their work in the limitations section. It’s as if they’re trying to pre-empt every possible reviewer criticism by demolishing their own study first. I always encourage them to temper this a little. All research studies are flawed, and this section should present a fair self-critique rather than a blistering personal review.

Here’s something I’ve learned through experience: reviewers will identify further flaws that haven’t even occurred to the authorship team and may ask for these to be added to the limitations section. As such, it’s usually better to start with a moderate self-critique which allows room to expand in response to the criticisms of others.

These sections are also strengthened when they open with the strengths of the study. This can help remind reviewers about the positives of the design and communicate a sense of balance to readers. You’re not hiding from your study’s weaknesses – you’re presenting them in context.

Don’t confuse interpretations with implications

A common trap researchers fall into is to insert implications into the interpretations section. Sometimes the line between these two sections can be fine, but discussion sections are strengthened when the interpretations section focuses on the scientific advances of the study, and the implications section outlines the practical advice the authors can now offer due to what they have found.

Think of it this way: interpretations are about “what we now know”, while implications are about “what we should now do”. Implications are best when they are practical, balanced and useful to readers. This is also a good place to make recommendations for future researchers. Where your study has fallen short, you can recommend they do better!

Don’t overthink it

Writing discussions can feel like a daunting task, and a blank page can induce writer’s block. Remember: something is always better than nothing, and once written down, it can always be improved. Perfection is the enemy of progress! Don’t wait for that full day when you can focus, which may never come. Instead, start typing and see what happens. Even just a few lines can reduce your anxiety and help you get started more quickly when you next return to your document.

By breaking the discussion into five manageable sections and following the path of least resistance, you can transform that blank page into a finished section faster than you think. Your paper is nearly finished – time to bring it home.

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.

How academic publishing became so profitable

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 the International Journal of Music, Health and Wellbeing (IJMHW), whose Principal 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. IJMHW 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.

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.
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.
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”.
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”.
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”.
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”.
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”.
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.
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.
Wider registration. There are a variety of international platforms with which to register journals, including Web of Science, PubMed and SCOPUS. This may be a longer term process, however. Dom Mitchell, from the Directory of Open Access Journals (DOAJ) has stated, “DOAJ requires that an open access journal has published 5 original research articles, among other things, before we will consider it for indexing… We also require that the journal has an ISSN which has been registered *and* fully confirmed.”

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”.

This week I read an editorial by Becker and colleagues (2019) which warned against the dangers of “online solicited content journals”. These predatory journals use academic spam emails to elicit contributions from researchers and are fast becoming the dark shadow of the academic publishing industry. While academic publishing is notoriously lucrative, the impact of this has generally been to hold science back, rather than to promote misleading findings. High profile cases of academic misinformation have been thankfully rare, supporting continued public trust in academics. However, Becker and colleagues warn that solicited content journals threaten this. For a fee, these journals offer authors the opportunity to have their work published within weeks; a stark contrast to the months-long, soul-searchingly slow process inherent to most standard academic journals. These journals often purport to be peer-reviewed but the quality of this is highly questionable. Becker and colleagues suggest that authors could be tempted to submit to these predatory journals by the offer of a fast publishing process. They warn that circumventing peer-review risks introducing misinformation to the academic publication process.

However, the biggest problem, I believe, is confusion. These journals approach researchers as soon as they have a single academic publication, presumably lifting their email addresses from the author contact details of published papers. For a new or lay researcher, their invitations can be very confusing. Furthermore, these emails appear to be becoming more sophisticated in their approach. They are not restricted to eliciting journal submissions, either: I now receive about as many spam emails requesting my ‘gracious presence’ at various conferences. Below I offer seven tips for distinguishing academic spam from genuine invitations:

Avoid all invitations that look like a mail shot. Watch out for signs that the email could have been completed with mail-merge software. If your name is back to front (Dear Johnson Judith), your co-authors are also listed, an email address is used in place of your name or a title of one your papers is pasted in its entirety, it is probably not genuine.
If the invitation requires you to follow a link, it is most likely spam. Any personal invitations to contribute a paper, chapter or conference submission will ask you to respond to the person who emailed you.
Do not agree to read receipts from unknown contacts. Read receipts are usually requested when something is urgent or otherwise a priority. I have never received a genuine invitation to submit a paper, chapter or talk which requested a read receipt.
Don’t be fooled by flattery. If I receive any email that begins, ‘Dear eminent professor’, I delete it. This person clearly does not know me. Spam emails are usually both overly enthusiastic (think, ‘greetings for the day!’) and overly complimentary.
If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is. If they’re offering some limited time, cut price deal on article publishing fees, what they are offering you is not worth any fee. Similarly, if the conference they’re inviting you to is in Valencia, Hawaii or Phuket, be sceptical. I’ve yet to receive an academic spam email inviting me to speak in Birmingham.
If an unknown contact asks you a stupid question, bin the email. The most sophisticated academic spam I’ve received yet asked me for the contact details of one of my high-profile collaborators. Although I was confused (she’s the first hit on google if you type in her name), I obliged with a response. Having enticed me into a conversation, the spammer then replied saying that my collaborator was hard to get hold of, but they’d be delighted if I could contribute to their journal.
Do your own research on the spammer. Look up the journal you have been contacted about: does its website resemble those of bona fide journals? Who else has published in it? Which databases is it indexed with? Conferences can be even harder to figure out. However, most genuine academic conferences will be aligned with a university, professional organisation or healthcare organisation. In the absence of this, you can look up the conference’s history and their previous and present speakers. After all – the most important thing about any conference is the opportunity to meet with other researchers and professionals in your area.

Can you get a PhD by publication? A guide for researchers