I was somewhat conflicted about providing the following pieces of advice. It is well known that while there is not enough good science in the world, there are nonetheless far too many scientific papers. Advice on how to finish a paper can only make the problem worse.
On the other hand, it is also well known that all of the best science lies in the papers that were never finished. So: perhaps I can provide a valuable community service.
The non-scientist may assume that it is easy to write and finish a scientific paper. You do your little experiment, or your little calculation, and when you've got the answer you write it down. Simple!
Scientists make the same assumption: this paper-writing business should all be very easy, and it's clearly very easy for everyone else — look at all those papers being published! “The only reason I am having a problem finishing my paper, is that I am stupid and lazy and disorganised and waste all my time attending seminars on Imposter Syndrome.”
I am here to reassure you in a way that I think will conform perfectly to your insecurities. You don't have to feel bad at all: everyone is stupid and lazy and disorganised!
Also, everyone procrastinates.
I remember the first time I met the word “procrastinate”. It was in Douglas Adams's instructions on “How to leave the Planet”. I was probably thirteen. I thought it was a wonderful word — it sounded both fancy, and slightly comical — and, like many things I encountered at that age in the world of entertainment, it described a curious human activity that I could imagine people doing, but had never encountered myself.
Now I procrastinate a lot. One way to procrastinate over paper-writing is to write articles about how to write papers. And one way to procrastinate over advice articles is to wander into a pleasant digression on the word “procrastinate”.
So, you see, I know a lot about procrastination.
I also, however, have in fact completed many scientific papers1. How did I do it?
There are three key techniques.
The first technique is through the external influence of authority. For example, “If you don't finish that fucking paper, I will fire you!”
I apply this technique to my students and postdocs all the time, and I can attest that it never works.
(Ha ha! I'm joking! Of course I don't do that. It's almost impossible to fire someone in academia.)
Fortunately, there is a second technique. It is the single most important tool available to the working scientist. It is the magical mechanism by which just about everything in science is achieved. It is: the deadline.
Since I invoked him earlier, this is the moment to quote the famous Douglas Adams line, “I love deadlines. I love the whooshing noise they make as they go by.”2 I read this quote around the same time as I first read the word "procrastinate", and I was overjoyed to add "deadline" to my list of amusingly alien adult concerns. I also decided, in solidarity with the Maestro, that one day I too would treat deadlines with casual disdain.
Needless to say, Douglas Adams is an infallible source of wisdom on comic prose, but not time management.
Fortunately I discovered that ignoring deadlines was not within my emotional make-up. It turned out that my little brain considered a deadline to be inviolate.
As such, I adore deadlines. They are the bedrock of my scientific career.
There is an art to concocting an effective deadline.
A personal internal deadline is very useful, but it is rarely enough. Remember those pesky co-authors? They may not share your view.
This is where the external deadline is essential.
My favourite is the scientific conference. Register for the conference, submit an abstract to talk about your paper, and then — huzzah! You have a rock solid deadline!
Even this may not be enough. After all, you could just present some preliminary results. It would be nice to have the paper finished, but it's not essential.
Now we have to up the psychological stakes. Other people will also be presenting at the conference. What if they are working on the same topic, and present the same results first!? We have to finish the paper in time, otherwise we could be scooped!
The threat of being scooped is almost always imaginary. The chances that someone is working on exactly the same topic, on exactly the same timescale, are ridiculously small. But that doesn't matter. The insecure scientific brain is instantly petrified at the mere mention of the idea. The ability to reason evaporates.
You think I'm exaggerating? I have written papers during times of intense competition in my field, and everyone really was working on the same topics at the same time, and every published result was effectively scooping at least five other efforts. I have also written papers on topics that absolutely no-one gave a damn about. And I can attest that the feeling of utter terror and absolute necessity to meet the conference-talk deadline are exactly the same in both cases. Hurrah for the stupid human mind!
With a competitive threat on the horizon, the paper writing suddenly comes into focus. That extra calculation that was absolutely essential yesterday? Gone! Those contradictory results that were holding everything up? Drop them, or fudge them, or downplay them. All those comments in the draft that say, “It would be interesting to also...” Delete, delete, delete! Wherever necessary, apply the miraculous incantation, “We leave this to future work.”
I cannot guarantee that this will work for you. I may only be describing my own idiosyncratic personality. After all, I now make entirely arbitrary deadlines for myself, like, “I have to finish this article by 8.15am”, and stick to them, regardless of whether it makes the slightest sense.
That's where the last technique comes in. The second was vastly better than the first, and the third will be vastly better than the second. Armed with all three of them, you cannot possibly fail.
Unfortunately I have reached my deadline. The draft text did not please me and I have deleted it. I will leave the third technique to future work.
For the full set of pieces about the writing (and not writing) of scientific papers:
Dispatches from the front lines of scientific paper writing.
How to get your name on a paper. Is it truth? Or fiction? Or just good advice?
An artist in peril. A prelude to the trauma.
The 2025 vacation life hack. Taking a break in the age of smartphones and Trump.
Trials of a scientific paper writer.
And of course everything can be found in the Table of Contents.
For example: I just finished working on a paper as part of a large scientific collaboration. It went public on the first day of a scientific conference. (You can also hear me talking about it!)
This is quoted in the introduction to “The Salmon of Doubt”, but I’m sure I read it long before that, while Douglas Adams was still alive. Hopefully further research will uncover its first published appearance. Sounds like the perfect procrastination activity!
The "third technique" will be published elsewhere... I mean, The Elsewhere Journal published by Elsevier... very difficult to access, behind hard paywalls, etc. We just never get to read about those results that were published elsewhere...