An Open Letter to My Colleagues: Expanding Our Definition of Scholarship

An Open Letter to My Colleagues: Expanding Our Definition of Scholarship

Dear Colleagues,

I have been invited to participate in the plenary session, “Making Consumer Research Accessible,” at the Society for Consumer Psychology conference. This invitation prompted me to reflect on how scholarship—particularly business research—can extend beyond academia and engage a broader audience. In this letter, I share my previously private thoughts on the opportunities and challenges scholars face in making their work more relevant and accessible in a rapidly evolving marketplace of ideas.

The motivation for bringing research—business or otherwise—to the public is simple: knowledge should serve a broader purpose than just sustaining the academic ecosystem. Scholars have a responsibility to share insights that inform, challenge, and improve the world.

Peer Review: Prestige and Novelty Over Practical Influence

“Academia has a tendency, when unchecked, to evolve into a ritualistic self-referential publishing game.” — Nassim Nicholas Taleb

Taleb can be a jerk, but he’s not wrong. Peer review is upheld as the gold standard of academic rigor, and successfully navigating the system is essential for tenure-track career advancement. Yet, in today’s publishing landscape, the real currency of academia isn’t always impact—it’s a stand-in for impact, too often measured by counting publications on the ladder to tenure and promotion.

Publishing in top academic journals is difficult—with acceptance rates often below 10%. The process of peer review is intentionally difficult. Getting a paper accepted requires technical depth and novelty, making publication an enormous hurdle. Because of this, journal acceptances serve as a proxy for research quality and importance. In this way, the inefficiency of academic publishing is a feature that reinforces prestige.

But inefficiency is also a bug. The slow pace of publication is incompatible with fields that require timely insights. Some crises—such as pandemics—demand immediate action, yet academia’s focus on novelty often slows the dissemination of critical knowledge. But influence doesn’t always come from what’s new. Many of the most impactful ideas are not groundbreaking at all—they are proven, time-tested solutions that simply need broader adoption. Meanwhile, academic publishing continues to lock valuable research behind paywalls and dense jargon, making it inaccessible to the very people who could put it to use.

Imagine me submitting this letter to a peer-reviewed journal. Not only would the uncertain process take months—probably years—for the ideas to be “approved,” but the final version would likely be only modestly improved and heavily shaped by the personal biases of Reviewer C. (Actually, in this case, more likely Reviewer A—the most senior scholar on the anonymous review team.)

Max Planck famously said, “Science progresses one funeral at a time.” The same could be said of academia’s approach to public engagement. The traditional model of scholarship remains tied to journal publications, despite growing evidence that public-facing work creates broader impact. Many in the academy still resist change, clinging to outdated measures of influence. But the landscape is shifting—slowly, and often only as a new generation of scholars pushes against the old guard.

If the academic reward system prioritizes theory over application, scholars can advance their careers while overlooking real-world concerns. This disconnect is not just theoretical—it has been measured. A study by Jedidi and colleagues, published in the Journal of Marketing, provides empirical evidence of this gap. Analyzing over 9,000 articles from leading marketing journals, they developed the Relevance-to-Marketers (R2M) Index to assess each article’s practical relevance. Their findings revealed that only about 24% of these articles were highly pertinent to industry professionals.

Susan Fournier, Dean of Boston University’s Questrom School of Business, champions a shift in business education. She calls for scholars to engage beyond academia, demonstrating the practical impact of research in solving real-world challenges. Fournier stresses the importance of fostering interdisciplinary, balanced, and insightful discussions while advocating for businesses to create value not just for shareholders, but for society as a whole.

The world’s biggest challenges beyond business—from public health to climate change—similarly require scholarly knowledge to be mobilized for the public good. As Association of Public and Land-grant Universities President Mark Becker stated, “Today’s challenges are increasingly complex and require institutions to engage more deeply with their communities than ever before.”

If academia doesn’t prioritize real-world problem-solving over insular publication metrics, it risks becoming irrelevant.

A Prediction and a Challenge

Succeeding in the broader marketplace of ideas is different from, but not necessarily easier than, getting a paper accepted. I’m grateful I learned to navigate academic publishing—not just for job security, but because it sharpened my ability to think clearly and communicate precisely.

While public engagement has fewer formal barriers than academic publishing, it presents its own challenges: competing for attention, navigating different gatekeepers, and measuring influence in meaningful ways. I learned to ask a crucial question before submitting my ideas: Why should someone care?

Early in my career, I realized that academics who confined their work to journals would struggle to remain relevant. Social media was in its infancy, podcasts were niche, and blogs had yet to gain traction in academia—but public intellectuals were emerging across disciplines. I saw that scholars who failed to write for popular audiences or engage in broader conversations would eventually lose their place as thought leaders.

So, I experimented. Blogging was my first step—one post a week. The blog never took off, but it strengthened my writing muscles and forced me out of academic style. Then, a breakthrough: an academic article I co-wrote on humor (for an A-level journal!) caught the attention of the popular press. That led to unexpected media coverage, then a Wired magazine profile, which led to a book deal. Suddenly, I was writing for Slate, Fortune, and The Washington Post—reaching an audience beyond you nerds.

That shift opened new doors. Writing expanded into audio and video. I launched a podcast, then wrote a business book based on my research as a behavioral economist and business school professor. My TEDx talk, What Makes Things Funny?, has since garnered over a million views—competing as my most significant “publication” to date.

About five years ago, I pivoted again. I began exploring the rise of single living—not just as an academic topic but as a cultural movement and area of advocacy. That led to another major venture: podcasting. My show, Solo, has nearly 1.5 million downloads across 100+ countries, connecting me with people who would never pick up an academic journal but crave science-backed insights. What started as a curiosity has expanded into writing and community-building. My latest book on single living reinforced what I have come to believe: scholarship doesn’t just analyze culture—it can shape it.

By venturing into comedy and culture, I stepped outside the traditional lane of a business school professor. But my work has brought me back to the highway of serious scholarship—now exploring how businesses can better support singles, whether in finance, employment policies, or sales and marketing. The evolution continues.

These endeavors have deepened my scholarship. They’ve made me a better writer, thinker, and speaker, strengthening my teaching and broadening my research reach. They’ve also elevated the profile of my academic work—after all, scholars are more likely to read the popular press than peer-reviewed journals.

I’m not suggesting you follow my exact path, but I offer this warning: skepticism toward public-facing scholarship within the academy is real, and it’s not going away soon. If you engage beyond traditional academic channels, expect raised eyebrows (or eyerolls). I speak from experience. During my five-year post-tenure review, despite continuing to publish in top marketing and psychology journals, I received this comment after a congratulations for my latest book:

“We look forward to seeing more of his future research efforts aimed toward traditional, impactful articles suitable for publication in established, peer-reviewed Marketing and Psychology journals and to seeing an uptick in his academic research trajectory.”

Here’s the trade-off: staying within the confines of academic journals may shield you from criticism—but it also means forfeiting real influence.

As I reflect on the first two-thirds of my career, I’m glad I started with the traditional academic path. Publishing in peer-review journals built a foundation of knowledge, sharpened my thinking, and made me a better communicator. But I’m equally glad I expanded beyond it—and I will continue to do so, regardless of what my peers think.

Importantly, my work fits within my employer’s definition of scholarly and creative work. Thus, I am not failing to meet my professional responsibilities—I am fulfilling them in a broader way.

Finding the Middle Ground

Many scholars recognize the value of public engagement but hesitate due to tenure concerns, credibility risks, or institutional expectations. The reality is that not every academic can—or should—fully pivot toward public-facing work. But that doesn’t mean engagement must come at the expense of a traditional scholarly career.

Publishing in top journals is like building a Ferrari—meticulously crafted, highly technical, and a mark of prestige. But it’s also impractical for everyday use, suited more for controlled tracks than rough terrain. A middle ground exists, akin to a turbocharged Subaru crossover or a G-Wagon—powerful, versatile, and capable of handling both the rigors of academia and the unpredictable roads of public discourse. And in the case of the G-Wagon, still sexy.

Indeed, a middle ground exists—one that allows scholars to balance both worlds by integrating public engagement strategically and incrementally:

  • Leverage Existing Research – Scholars don’t need to reinvent themselves as public intellectuals. Repurposing research into op-eds, essays, or podcasts expands its reach without diverting from core academic work. A journal article can also become a Harvard Business Review piece, a podcast episode, or an explainer video.
  • Use Public Engagement to Sharpen Academic Work – Writing for broader audiences clarifies arguments, strips away jargon, and distills key insights. Public engagement can also provide feedback that strengthens research, leading to better follow-up publications.
  • Align Engagement with Institutional Priorities – Scholars concerned about tenure should find ways to integrate engagement into their academic roles. Some universities now explicitly value public impact, and certain grant agencies consider broader outreach a funding criterion. Public engagement doesn’t have to be an “extra”—it can count as service, teaching, or knowledge translation, fitting within existing academic structures.

For those willing to engage but wary of risk, intentional public-facing scholarship can complement traditional academic work, enhancing rather than detracting from it.

Lessons from History

My prediction was not terribly novel. Throughout history, great thinkers have demonstrated that rigorous scholarship and public engagement are not mutually exclusive. In fact, some of the most influential scholars in history have deliberately written for multiple audiences—balancing intellectual depth with accessibility.

Plato mastered dual-audience writing. His dialogues engaged both scholars and the public (I read them today), making complex philosophical ideas accessible while preserving depth. His method proves that scholars need not choose between rigor and reach.

Charles Darwin wrote On the Origin of Species not just for scientific peers but for an informed lay audience, ensuring that his groundbreaking ideas on evolution did not remain locked within elite scientific circles. The book remains one of the most influential ever written, shaping biology, philosophy, and public understanding of science.

Daniel Kahneman, whom I had the privilege of working with as a postdoc, profoundly shaped my views on communication in scholarship. Danny spent his career producing rigorous, paradigm-shifting research on decision-making, biases, and human psychology. Yet, unlike many academics who leave their work locked away in journals, he took his life’s work and made it accessible to the world.

His opus, Thinking, Fast and Slow, is a prime example of how a scholar can translate decades of research into a format that engages and educates a broad audience. The book was not just a bestseller—it introduced complex psychological insights to business leaders, policymakers, and everyday readers who would never have encountered them otherwise. It bridged the gap between academia and practice, influencing fields from finance to healthcare to technology.

In sum, many scholars have expanded their work beyond academia, writing influential books, advising governments, shaping public discourse, and creating open educational resources. Their influence isn’t measured by the number of journal articles but by how their ideas shape thought, behavior, and, at times, the world If Plato elevated discourse, Darwin redefined life, and Kahneman transformed decision-making, then modern academics can do the same.

Call to Action for Academia

In academia, we toil over papers that vanish behind paywalls, circulate in niche conferences, and are cited by a handful of specialists. Meanwhile, the world beyond campus walls hungers for the insights we possess.

Scholars should act now. The intellectual landscape is shifting, and the old paradigms of scholarly success are no longer sufficient. Universities, departments, and scholars must adapt—not gradually, but urgently—to ensure that academic work serves society.

Universities should acknowledge public engagement—op-eds, policy contributions, and community-based research—as legitimate scholarship. Recognizing these contributions would encourage more scholars to engage beyond academic journals and create meaningful influence.

Promotion and tenure criteria must also evolve. If a scholar’s work informs public policy, shapes industry practice, or engages communities, it should be valued, not dismissed. Penalizing public engagement sends a clear message: influence beyond academia doesn’t count. That must change. Scholars who contribute valuable insights outside traditional journals should be recognized for their efforts, not sidelined.

Additionally, academia’s reliance on traditional citation counts is can be complemented. Institutions should embrace altmetrics, which track a scholar’s influence through policy impact, media engagement, and industry applications. Tools like Altmetric measure mentions in social media, news outlets, and public policy documents, offering a broader view of a researcher’s real-world impact. Incorporating these measures into academic evaluations would better reflect the overall value of scholarly contributions.

Let’s reshape academic culture so that “Does it count?” is no longer an obstacle to innovation. But if we are going to “count,” what counts?

_ A resonant book?

_ An industry white paper?

_ An educational podcast?

_ A policy brief that influences legislation?

_ A government report that informs public decision-making?

_ A patent or technological innovation?

_ A widely adopted digital tool or open-source dataset?

_ A TEDx talk that translates research for a broad audience?

_ An op-ed or expert testimony that shapes public discourse?

When you look back on your career, what will you think? I get it—you need to publish in journals. You have a mortgage, tuition payments, and the need for job security and summer salary. But is that enough? Will you be satisfied knowing your work stayed behind paywalls, read by a handful of specialists—or will you wish you had done more?

Writing for dual audiences, engaging with practitioners, leveraging digital platforms, and translating research into action aren’t distractions—they are essential to universities maintaining thought leadership and fulfilling their broader educational mission.

Plato, Darwin, and Kahneman didn’t shape the world with citation counts; they shaped it with ideas that reached beyond the academy.

Onwards!

Peter McGraw

A sample of my previous open letters: