Petrov pushed open the door to Alex and Patel’s office, heading straight for their colleague's desk, where a well-stocked candy jar sat. Without a word, he grabbed a handful of gummy bears and popped them into his mouth. “Morning,” he muttered, already feeling better.
Alex sighed loudly from their desk, rubbing their temples. “I swear, I’m drowning in review requests again.”
Petrov chewed thoughtfully and looked at Alex. “You mean the for-profit publishing machine that keeps feeding off our labor?”
“Exactly,” Alex said, eyes on the screen. “I try to review as many papers as I submit, you know? I just can’t stand the thought of not doing my part. But it’s exhausting, and I feel like I’m just feeding into this endless cycle of exploitation.”
Petrov nodded, munching another gummy bear. “Do you count co-authorships when you tally how many reviews you owe them?”
Alex paused, confused. “What?”
“Co-authorships," Petrov repeated. "Say you’ve got three papers in a journal. Do you owe three reviews because of those three co-authorships, or is it just based on your name as the lead author? You know, like when you’ve got more skin in the game, you owe them more.”
Alex furrowed their brow. “I don’t know... I never really thought of it that way. I guess I just try to balance things out, but I’m not sure anymore.”
Before Alex could go deeper into the dilemma, Patel, who had been quietly working at her own desk, suddenly stopped typing. She spun around in her chair with a look of malicious glee. “You know what you should do? Sabotage the system.”
Alex blinked. “What?”
Patel leaned forward, her fingers steepled in mock seriousness. “You’re giving them all this labor for free, right? They get free reviews, free labor, and you’re left with nothing. So stop reviewing for the big journals. Submit your papers to them, publish them, but don’t review for them. Lean into the system, don’t give them the energy back, and break it.”
Alex stared at her, wide-eyed. “Wait, so you’re suggesting... we just take everything they give us and don’t return the favor? That doesn’t sound right. Won’t that hurt other researchers who need the system?”
Patel waved a hand dismissively. “You shouldn’t feel guilty about that. You’re not hurting anyone. You’re trying to fix a broken system. It’s like starving the beast. The whole system exploits us all, and if you stop feeding it, but keep making it work, maybe it’ll collapse.”
Petrov, still chewing his gummies, looked thoughtful. “You could only review for journals that are open-access, run by institutions, and free for both readers and authors.”
Patel nodded approvingly. “Exactly. You’re still engaging with the system but only the parts of it that don’t suck the life out of everyone. You’re hacking the system from the inside. A little sabotage with a purpose.”
Alex frowned. “But what about the editors and associate editors? They’re researchers too. They’re just trying to keep things running.”
Patel shrugged. “They chose to serve in a broken system. They can step back too if they want. Not your problem anymore.”
Petrov tilted his head. “That’s a bit mean...”
Alex thought for a moment. “I guess I could start rejecting review requests—and just tell the editors why. Not just a 'no,' but a 'no, and here’s why your journal needs to change.'”
Patel’s grin widened. “Exactly. That’s how you tilt the system.”
Petrov glanced at her suspiciously. “You seem... disturbingly prepared for this.”
“Oh, please,” she said, lighting up. “You should’ve seen what I did to that large grant Lucas Janssen was setting up.”
Alex and Petrov both turned to her. “That consortium proposal?” Alex asked. “What was wrong with it?”
Patel snorted. “Everything. They were asking for millions to study these convoluted psychological mechanisms, but no one could answer basic questions like what the underlying processes were, or how they’d even measure them. It was all buzzwords and big promises—no theory, no feasibility, no humility. Just hand-wavy nonsense and giant collaborative diagrams.”
Petrov winced. “Yikes.”
“So,” Patel continued, “I nudged them into forming a committee to make key decisions about the proposal. Harmless, right? Then I suggested we use a selection panel to pick that committee—so the panel needed to be assembled first. But then we needed motivation letters from candidates. Then someone had to read and score them. Then we needed consensus discussions to finalize the group. Weeks passed just arguing over whether Dr. Hofstede was ‘visionary’ or ‘reckless.’”
Alex’s mouth dropped open. “You bureaucratized them to death.”
“Oh, I wasn’t done,” Patel said, almost gleeful. “Once the committee was finally formed, I pushed for them to collaboratively write the theoretical framework section. That became five Google Docs, three Miro boards, and a Slack channel where people spent entire afternoons debating whether to say ‘modulates’ or ‘influences.’”
“And?” Petrov asked, both horrified and intrigued.
“Well, the deadline started looming. No one wanted to rush it because ‘this kind of money deserves a robust proposal,’” she said, mimicking an earnest voice. “And eventually, people just... moved on. Other projects came up, vacations were planned, and the whole thing got shelved indefinitely. I parked that proposal like a boss.” Patel smiled a little too brightly, leaning back casually. “Sabotage isn’t always about directly tearing things down. It’s about strategic inaction, misdirection. See, institutions thrive on bureaucracy. Slow them down. Make them work harder for every little decision. Machiavelli didn’t get to power by charging in with a sword—he understood the system. You want chaos? You create it subtly, from within. Have them set up subcommittees for the subcommittees. Draft reports, hold endless meetings, demand consensus. And make sure they get so bogged down with process that the actual action is postponed indefinitely. It’s brilliant, really. You keep the moral high ground while making sure nothing ever happens. It’s an art.”
Alex stared at her. “Patel, you’re actually terrifying.”
Petrov nodded solemnly. “You should use those powers for good.”
Patel stood up and stretched with a smug little smile. “Oh, don’t worry. I already am. So many small things in place.”
She slung her tote bag over her shoulder. “Anyway, I’m off to tend to the pantry plants. The basil’s been judging me all morning.”
She strolled out, humming, leaving Alex and Petrov in stunned silence.
Petrov reached for another gummy bear. “I think I’m afraid to ask what else she’s planted.”
Alex didn’t answer. They were still staring at the door.
Lets start again fresh. Start with Petrov coming into Alex and Patel and another colleagues office to get candy from the another colleagues desk candy jar. Then have Alex sigh and complain about the review system, and how they try to provide as many reviews as they receive for their journal papers. Have Petrov interact with Alex about this, also asking if they count co-authorships or not. At some point have Patel stop their work and interrupt the conversation to add that they should sabotage the system by leaning into it - submit and publish papers (open) in those big published journals, but do not review for them. Make the system collapse by having it spend energy and not giving energy back. Then have Alex ask if that is not bad for all those other researchers, and they'd feel guilty. Then have Patel explain that they shouldnt feel guilty because they are trying to fix a bad system that exploits everyone. And then have petrov realize he could just only review for good journals that are institute owned and free for readers and authors. then have Patel say general things about using sabotage like this to collapse systems from the inside out. End in a funny way.
Keep the part until “A little sabotage with a purpose.”" Then have Alex ask 'how about the editors and associate editors looking for reviewers, those are researcher too' and then continue the conversations
Good until 'not your problem anymore' . After that, have Petrov say that it is a bit mean. Have Alex mention that they can indicate why they reject reviews to the editors, to motivate them to make the change. Then have patel provide some crazy example about how she sabotaged people from setting up this methodologically terrible grant from the inside out with examples, and end the story with Alex and Petrov reflecting how scary Patel actually is. Have them mention she should use her powers for good. And then have her cheekily reply that she already has many things in place - and then have her leave merrily to care for the panty plants.
it should be 'pantry plants' Also, change 'that grant project' into 'this large grant Lucas Janssen was setting up' Add in more details about the sabotage. She had them set up committee to decide on specific things in the grant application. Then she suggested to use a panel to select those committee members that would lead the proposal writing, which then had to write motivations. Those had to be read and judged, consensus bout the final group of people, all of this slowing things down for weeks on end. Add more examples. Then have it fail because the grant application deadline was getting to close, and that the grant idea was parked indefinitely because people went on with other ideas and things. Add in some details also about why the grant was so terrible, mainly focussing on people aksing a lot of money with very complicated questions, but the member not even able to answer basic questions about how they think the underlying processes work.
I edited “Hmm, and then only review for journals that are open-access, run by institutions, and free for both readers and authors?” Into “You could only review…. authors.
I edited “It’s a bit mean, but I like it” Into “That’s a bit mean.”.