Why Academicians Don't Write

Writing for publication is not only laborious and slow, it may also engender aversion: Telling a writer to relax is like telling a man to relax while being prodded for a hernia. ... He thinks that his article must be of a certain length or it won't seem important. He thinks how august it will look in print. He thinks of all the people who will read it. He thinks that it must have the solid weight of authority. He thinks that its style must dazzle. No wonder he tightens [109, p. 21]. Yet writing is one of the most important things an academician can do. Publication weighs heavily in decisions about hiring, promotion, and tenure in academic and other professional settings [3]. Writing, more than any other professional activity, brings rewards like visibility [59]. And writing and publication can provide a unique and important kind of self-education: I would urge you to write, not because it is a good thing, not because it is nice to see your name in print, not even because it is relevant to full membership in our society, but rather because you will really get to know a field only if you contribute to it. ... Writing ultimately becomes important not only because of what it does for others but also for what it does for oneself' [70, p. 4]. Nonetheless, few of us write for publication [55]. The median number of scholarly publications for even the most prolific disciplines like psychology is zero [2]. Most academicians who do write contribute infrequently; as few as 10 percent of writers in specific areas account for over 50 percent of the literature [17]. Why do so few of us write