Well, folks, I’m back from Berlin. And what an extraordinary couple of days it was. There were in fact three days of open-access talks, though I was only able to be there for the first two. Day one was the satellite conference, aimed at early-career researchers; days two and three were the much larger main conference, attended mostly by heavy hitters: senior librarians, university administrators, a sprinkling of politicians, and of course some researchers and publishers.

It was my privilege to speak at both satellite and main conferences. This post is really just to advertise those talks. Why am I doing this? Because I’m convinced that they’re by far the most important talks I’ve ever given. It’s great fun to talk about Barosaurus at SVPCA, or about intervertebral cartilage in Bonn, but if someone says to me that that work doesn’t really matter in a cosmic sense, I’ll be hard put to find reasons why they’re wrong. But open access has profound and immediate consequences for health, industry, education, third-world development, and more fields than I can list.

So here are the talks.

Satellite meeting talk

berlin11-satellite-taylor-what-we-can-do

First up, at the satellite conference, my subject was: Towards universal Open Access: what we can do about it, and who should do it. My goal here was to help researchers see what practical steps they can take right now towards the open-access goal that we all aspire to. I covered six areas:

  1. Publish our own work open access (whether Gold or Green)
  2. Review for Open Access journals
  3. Edit for Open Access journals
  4. Advocate Open Access policies
  5. Deprecate journal rank
  6. Talk about Open Access

Along the way, we talked about the open-access citation advantage, the (mostly non-) problem of article processing charges, the complete non-problem of “predatory open-access publishers”, the acceptable length of Green-OA embargoes (zero), the SV-POW! decision tree, publishers’ lack of control over what you do before you sign the copyright transfer, the inability of impact factor to predict citation count (post to come), the childishness of evaluating individuals by journal rank, and the knotty problem of who should take responsibility for fixing our current broken system.

Here are a few tweets that went out as I was giving this talk: “a blistering, fantastic presentation“, “Can we get a twitter round of applause … Absolutely BRILLIANT presentation“, “TOTALLY BRILLIANT“, “This is why we HAVE to record these conferences. Not recording that presentation would be a crime“, “It was AWESOME!“, and finally my favourites: “making you not just know #openaccess , but feel it” and “Mike’s talks at the #Berlin11 conference was 1of the most emotional 1’s I have ever seen!

I actually don’t know whether it’s going to be possible for people who missed the live stream to watch this talk. That was the plan, but I heard a rumour that the recording went wrong. If a video does becomes available, I’ll let you know. In the mean time, you can at least get the slides [PowerPoint or exported PDF]. They are CC By.

Main meeting talk

berlin11-main-Taylor-CUT-DOWN

In the main conference, I used my slot to remind us all that Open Access is about sharing, unity and sanity, not about money. Because I was addressing a more senior audience that necessarily has to think more about practicalities, finances, ways and means, I wanted to take the opportunity to remember that those are not the issues that gave birth to Open Access; rather, it started out as an unabashedly idealistic movement (as reading any of the three great declarations will show you). I don’t want us to walk away from that high-ground and be reduced to thinking only about practicalities, important though they are.

Publishers and their associates often say — rightly, as far as they go — that “Scientific and technical publishing is a business“. But no-one goes into it because of they money they can make. Everyone involved in doing or publishing research surely got into that business because their eyes were on a higher prize. So the burden of my talk was that publishing research is a mission; that far from “getting rid of the idealists“, we should cherish them; and that we should encourage rather than curb our own idealistic tendencies.

Perhaps the most satisfying part of the whole conference was giving this talk — you might almost call it a preach — and watching the nodding agreement spread across the audience. Folks, we’re about a great work. Let’s not forget that. Let’s not sell ourselves short.

The main session was unfortunately not livecast, and to the best of my knowledge, there were never any plans to record it. But as with my satellite talk, you can at least get the slides [PowerPoint or exported PDF]. They are CC By.

Where next?

Since I made the slides available for download immediately after the talks (three days ago for the satellite meeting, two days ago for the main meeting), I’ve been surprised and delighted to see the download numbers — currently standing at 641 for the satallite talk and 939 for the main talk. The tweet announcing the main talk has also been retweeted 34 times and favourited 26 times. I hope that shows that I struck a chord.

I have an informal invitation to deliver the main-session talk next year to an Italian university, which I’ll be pleased to do once we’re able to sort out the details. I’m not sure whether more invitations are likely to be forthcoming, but I’ll mention them here if they do materialise.

I’d like to finish by thanking my employer, Index Data. As most of you know, I am not a career academic: I work on sauropods in my spare time (and advocate open access in my spare spare time), earning my living as a computer programmer. By the time the invitations to speak at the Berlin conferences came in, I’d already booked up my annual leave allowance, so I had to ask for permission to take unpaid days for the conference. Instead, Index Data gave me two more paid days — because they, like me, believe in the importance of open access.

This is all the more laudable since, if anything, universal open access will harm our business. A significant part of what we build is authentication mechanisms to allow people (legitimate) access to paywalled resources. Once everything is open, no-one will need to pay us to do that. It’s greatly to Index Data’s credit that, despite this, they want to help us push on towards a goal that will benefit society as a whole.

References

  • Taylor, Michael P. Monday 18 November 2013. Towards universal Open Access: what we can do about it, and who should do it. Berlin 11 Satellite Conference for students and early-career researchers. [Slides PPT] [Slides PDF]
  • Taylor, Michael P. Tuesday 19 November 2013. Open Access is about sharing, unity and sanity, not about money. Berlin 11 Open Access Conference: 10th Anniversary of the Berlin Declaration. [Slides PPT] [Slides PDF]

As I mentioned a few days ago, Matt and I have a couple of papers in the new PLOS ONE Sauropod Gigantism collection. We were each lead author on one and second author on the other, so for convenience’s sake we’ll refer to them as my paper (Taylor and Wedel 2013c on neck cartilage) and Matt’s paper (Wedel and Taylor 2013b on caudal pneumaticity.)

Mine is very simple in concept (although it ended up at 17 pages and 23 figures). It’s all about addressing one of the overlooked variables in reconstructing the postures of the necks of sauropods (and indeed of all tetrapods). That is, the spacing between consecutive vertebrae, and the effect this has on “neutral pose”.

The concept of “neutral pose” goes back to the DinoMorph work of Stevens and Parrish (1999). They defined it (p. 799) as follows: “We determined the neutral poses for each animal, wherein the paired articular facets of the postzygapophyses of each cervical vertebra were centered over the facets of the prezygapophyses of its caudally adjacent counterpart.”

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Taylor and Wedel (2013c: Figure 3). Articulated sauropod vertebrae. Representative mid-cervical vertebra of Giraffatitan brancai, articulating with its neighbours. The condyle (ball) on the front of each vertebra’s centrum fits into the cotyle (socket) at the back of the preceding one, and the prezygapophyses articulate with the preceding vertebra’s postzygapophyses. These vertebrae are in Osteological Neutral Pose, because the pre- and postzygapophyseal facets overlap fully.

One of the more fundamental flaws in Stevens and Parrish (1999) is the assumption that animals habitually rest their necks in neutral pose — an assumption that is unsupported by evidence and, as it turns out, false (Vidal et al. 1986, Taylor et al. 2009). But let’s leave that aside for the moment, and consider what neutral pose actually represents.

The fact that there is even such a thing as neutral articulation between two consecutive vertebrae is due to there being three points of contact between those vertebra: as with the legs of a tripod, three points is the minimum number you need to fix an object in three-dimensional space. Two of these points are at the zygapophyses, as noted in the original definition above. The third point is the articulation between the centra.

The centrum has been curiously overlooked in discussions of neutral pose, but needless to say its length is crucial in establishing what is neutral. In the image above, if the centrum was longer, then the angle between the consecutive vertebrae would need to be raised in order to keep the zygapophyses articulated.

And of course it was longer in life, because of the cartilage in between the consecutive centra. (The use of the more specific term “osteological neutral pose” goes some way to recognising that tissues other than bone have been overlooked, but the problem has not really been addressed or even properly acknowledged in published works before our paper.)

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Taylor and Wedel (2013c: Figure 5). Intervertebral gaps in camel necks. Head and neck of dromedary camels. Top: UMZC H.14191, in right lateral view, posed well below habitual posture, with apparently disarticulated C3/C4 and C4/C5 joints. Photograph taken of a public exhibit at University Museum of Zoology, Cambridge, UK. Bottom: OUMNH 17427, in left lateral view, reversed for consistency with Cambridge specimen. Photograph taken of a public exhibit at Oxford University Museum of Natural History, UK. Inset: detail of C4 of the Oxford specimen, showing articulations with C3 and C5. The centra are separated by thick pads of artificial ‘‘cartilage’’ to preserve spacing as in life.

You simply can’t ignore cartilage when modelling neck postures and expect to get anything resembling a meaningful result. That is, presumably, the reason why the habitual posture of rabbits in life exceeds the most extended posture we were able to obtain when manipulating dry vertebrae of a hare: compare Vidal et al. (1986: fig. 4) with Taylor et al. (2009: fig. 1).

How big is the effect? That depends on the thickness of the cartilage and the height of the zygapophyses above the center of rotation. Here is an illustration that we should have put in the paper, but which inexplicably neither of us thought of:

figNEW-angle-at-zygs

Influence of intervertebral cartilage on vertebral articulation angle. Consider the posterior vertebra (black) as fixed. The blue vertebra represents neutral pose of the preceding vertebra with centra abutting and zygapophyseal facets maximally overlapped. The red vertebra indicates neutral pose once intervertebral cartilage is added between the vertebra (where else?) The green lines show the angle by which the more anterior vertebra must be inclined in order to accommodate the cartilage, and the magenta line shows the height of the zygapophyseal articulation above the center of rotation between the two vertebrae.

Here’s some elementary trigonometry. Suppose the intervertebral cartilage is x distance thick at mid-height of the centra, and that the height of the zygs above this mid-height point (the magenta line) is y. The triangle between the middle of the condyle of the posterior vertebra, the middle of the cotyle of the anterior one and the zygapophyseal articulation is near enough a right-angled triangle as makes no odds.

Consider the angle θ between the green lines. Sin(θ) = opposite/hypotenuse = x/y, and by similarity, the additional angle of inclination of the anterior vertebra is also θ.

But for small angles (and this is generally a small angle), sin(θ) ≈ θ. So the additional inclination in radians = cartilage thickness divided by zygapophyseal height. For example, in vertebrae where the zygs are 23 cm above the mid-height of the centra, adding 4 cm of intervertebral cartilage adds about 4/23 = 0.174 radians = 10 degrees of extra inclination. (That’s pretty similar to the angle in the illustration above. Eyeballing the cartilage thickness and zyg height in the illustration suggests that 23:4 ratio is about right, which is a nice sanity-check of this method.)

millionaire-stupid-contestant4

At this point, I am cursing my own stupidity for not putting this diagram, and the very simple calculation, into the paper. I guess that can happen when something is written in a hurry (which to be honest this paper was). The formula is so simple — and accurate enough within tolerances of inevitable measurement error — that we really should have used it all over the place. I guess that will have to go in a followup now. [Update, 5th November 2014. It’s long overdue, but that followup paper has finally been submitted and is available as a preprint.]

Anyway — next time, we’ll address this important related question: how thick, in fact, was the cartilage between the cervicals of sauropods?

References

A few bits and pieces about the PLOS Collection on sauropod gigantism that launched yesterday.

2013-10-29-SauropodEbook1-thumb

First, there’s a nice write-up of one of our papers (Wedel and Taylor 2013b on pneumaticity in sauropod tails) in the Huffington Post today. It’s the work of PLOS blogger Brad Balukjian, a former student of Matt’s from Berkeley days. The introduction added by the PLOS blogs manager is one of those where you keep wanting to interrupt, “Well, actually it’s not quite like that …” but the post itself, once it kicks in, is good. Go read it.

Brad also has a guest-post on Discover magazine’s Crux blog: How Brachiosaurus (and Brethren) Became So Gigantic. He gives an overview of the sauropod gigantism collection as a whole. Well worth a read to get your bearings on the issue of sauropod gigantism in general, and the new collection in particular.

PLOS’s own community blog EveryONE also has its own brief introduction to the collection.

And PLOS and PeerJ editor Andy Farke, recently in these pages because of his sensational juvenile Parasaurolophus paper, contributes his own overview of the collection, How Big? How Tall? And…How Did It Happen?

Finally, if you’re at SVP, go and pick up your free copy of the collection. Matt was somehow under the impression that the PLOS USB drives with the sauropod gigantism collection would be distributed with the conference packet when people registered. In fact, people have to go by the PLOS table in the exhibitor area (booth 4 in the San Diego ballroom) to pick them up. There are plenty of them, but apparently a lot of people don’t know that they can get them.

References

This is an exciting day: the new PLOS Collection on sauropod gigantism is published to coincide with the start of this year’s SVP meeting! Like all PLOS papers, the contents are free to the world: free to read and to re-use.  (What is a Collection? It’s like an edited volume, but free online instead of printed on paper.)

There are fourteen papers in the new Collection, encompassing neck posture (yay!), nutrition (finally putting to bed the Nourishing Vomit Of Eucamerotus hypothesis), locomotion, physiology and evolutionary ecology. Lots every sauropod-lover to enjoy.

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Taylor and Wedel (2013c: Figure 12). CT slices from fifth cervical vertebrae of Sauroposeidon. X-ray scout image and three posterior-view CT slices through the C5/C6 intervertebral joint in Sauroposeidon OMNH 53062. In the bottom half of figure, structures from C6 are traced in red and those from C5 are traced in blue. Note that the condyle of C6 is centered in the cotyle of C5 and that the right zygapophyses are in articulation.

Matt and I are particularly excited that we have two papers in this collection: Taylor and Wedel (2013c) on intervertebral cartilage in necks, and Wedel and Taylor (2013b) on pneumaticity in the tails of (particularly) Giraffatitan and Apatosaurus. So we have both ends of the animal covered. It also represents a long-overdue notch on our bed-post: for all our pro-PLOS rhetoric, this is the first time either of has had a paper published in a PLOS journal.

Wedel and Taylor (2013b: Figure 4). Giraffatitan brancai tail MB.R.5000 (‘Fund no’) in right lateral view. Dark blue vertebrae have pneumatic fossae on both sides, light blue vertebrae have pneumatic fossae only on the right side, and white vertebrae have no pneumatic fossae on either side. The first caudal vertebra (hatched) was not recovered and is reconstructed in plaster.

It’s a bit of a statistical anomaly that after a decade of collaboration in which there was never a Taylor & Wedel or Wedel & Taylor paper, suddenly we have five of them out in a single year (including the Barosaurus preprint, which we expect to eventually wind up as Taylor and Wedel 2014). Sorry about the alphabet soup.

Since Matt is away at SVP this week, I’ll be blogging mostly about the Taylor and Wedel paper this week. When Matt returns to civilian life, the stage should be clear for him to blog about pneumatic caudals.

Happy days!

References

Yesterday I announced that our new paper on Barosaurus was up as a PeerJ preprint and invited feedback.

I woke up this morning to find its third substantial review waiting for me.

That means that this paper has now accumulated as much useful feedback in the twenty-seven hours since I submitted it as any previous submission I’ve ever made.

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Taylor and Wedel (2013b: figure 7). Barosaurus lentus holotype YPM 429, Vertebra S (C?12). Left column from top to bottom: dorsal, right lateral and ventral views; right column: anterior view. Inset shows displaced fragment of broken prezygapophysis. Note the narrow span across the parapophyses in ventral view, and the lack of damage to the ventral surface of the centrum which would indicate transverse crushing.

It’s worth reviewing the timeline here:

  • Monday 23rd September, 1:19 am: I completed the submission process.
  • 7:03 am: the preprint was published. It took less than six hours.
  • 10:52 am: received a careful, detailed review from Emanuel Tschopp. It took less than four hours from publication, and so of course less than ten from submission.
  • About 5:00 pm: received a second review, this one from Mark Robinson. (I don’t know the exact time because PeerJ’s page doesn’t show an actual timestamp, just “21 hours ago”.)
  • Tuesday 24th September, about 4:00 am: received a third review, this from ceratopsian-jockey and open-science guru Andy Farke.

Total time from submission to receiving three substantial reviews: about 27 hours.

It’s worth contrasting that with the times taken to get from submission to the receipt of reviews — usually only two of them — when going through the traditional journal route. Here are a few of mine:

  • Diplodocoid phylogenetic nomenclature at the Journal of Paleontology, 2004-5 (the first reviews I ever received): three months and 14 days.
  • Revised version of the same paper at PaleoBios, 2005 (my first published paper): one month and 10 days.
  • Xenoposeidon description at Palaeontology, 2006: three months and 19 days, although that included a delay as the handling editor sent it to a third, tie-breaking, reviewer.
  • Brachiosaurus revision at the Journal of Vertebrate Paleontology, 2008: one month and 11 days.
  • Sauropod neck anatomy (eventually to be published in a very different form in PeerJ) at Paleobiologyfive months and two days.
  • Trivial correction to the Brachiosaurus revision at the Journal of Vertebrate Paleontology, 2010: five months and 11 days, bizarrely for a half-page paper.

Despite the wide variations in submission-to-review time at these journals, it’s clear that you can expect to wait at least a month before getting any feedback at all on your submission at traditional journals. Even PeerJ took 19 days to get the reviews of our neck-anatomy paper back to us.

So I am now pretty such sold on the pre-printing route. As well as getting this early version of the paper out there early so that other palaeontologists can benefit from it (and so that we can’t be pre-emptively plagiarised), issuing a preprint has meant that we’ve got really useful feedback very quickly.

I highly recommend this route.

By the way, in case anyone’s wondering, PeerJ Preprints is not only for manuscripts that are destined for PeerJ proper. They’re perfectly happy for you to use their service as a place to gather feedback for your work before submitting it elsewhere. So even if your work is destined for, say, JVP, there’s a lot to be gained by preprinting it first.

I was very pleased, on checking my email this morning, to see that my and Matt’s new paper, The neck of Barosaurus was not only longer but also wider than those of Diplodocus and other diplodocines, is now up as a PeerJ preprint!

Figure6-vertebra-q-composite

Taylor and Wedel (2013b: figure 6). Barosaurus lentus holotype YPM 429, Vertebra Q (C?13). Top row: left ventrolateral view. Middle row, from left to right: anterior view, with ventral to the right; ventral view; posterior view, with ventral to the left. Bottom row: right lateral view, inverted. Inset shows diapophyseal facet on right side of vertebra, indicating that the cervical ribs were unfused in this individual despite its great size. Note the broad, flat prezygapophyseal facet visible in anterior view.

I was pleased partly because of the very quick work on PeerJ’s part. I submitted the preprint at 1:22am last night, then went to bed. Almost immediately I got an automatic email from PeerJ saying:

Thank you for submitting your manuscript, “The neck of Barosaurus was not only longer but also wider than those of Diplodocus and other diplodocines” (#2013:09:838:0:0:CHECK:P) – it has now been received by PeerJ PrePrints.

Next, it will be checked by PeerJ staff, who will notify you if any alterations are required to the manuscript or accompanying files.

If the PrePrint successfully passes these checks, it will be made public.

You will receive notification by email at each stage of this process; you can also check the status of your manuscript at any time.

Lots to like here: the quickness of the response, the promise of automatic email updates, and the one-click link to check on progress (as opposed to the usual maze of Manuscript Central options to navigate).

Sure enough, a couple of hours later the next automatic email arrived, telling me that Matt had accepted PeerJ’s email invitation to be recognised as the co-author of the submission.

And one hour ago, just as I was crawling out of bed, I got the notification that the preprint is up. That simple.

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Taylor and Wedel (2013b: Figure 9). Partial reconstruction of the Barosaurus lentus holotype YPM 429, cervical vertebra R, approximating its undamaged state by allowing for dorsoventral crushing, shearing and loss of some extremities. Anterior and posterior views scaled to 125% of uncorrected width and 80% of uncorrected height. Dorsal view scaled to 80% of uncorrected height; condyle moved forward and cotyle scaled to 50% of uncorrected width to allow for shearing. Lateral view scaled to 125% of uncorrected height, and sheared backwards 15 degrees. Metapophyses and postzygapophyses drawn in multiple views based on vertebrae Q and S and AMNH 6341 material.

I’m also pleased because we managed to get this baby written so quickly. It started life as our talk at SVPCA in Edinburgh (Taylor and Wedel 2013a), which we delivered 25 days ago having put it together mostly in a few days running up to the conference — so it’s zero to sixty in less than a month. Every year we promise ourselves that we’ll write up our talks, and we never seem to get around to it, but this year I started writing on the train back from Edinburgh. By the time I got home I had enough of a hunk of text to keep me working on it, and so we were able to push through in what, for us, is record time.

Now here’s what we’d like:

We want this paper’s time as a preprint to be time well spent — which means that we want to improve it. To do that, we need your reviews. Assuming we get some useful comments, we plan to release an updated version pretty soon; and after some number of iterations, we’ll submit the resulting paper as a full-fledged PeerJ paper.

So if you know anything about sauropods, about vertebra, about deformation, about ecology, or even about grammar or punctuation, please do us a favour: read the preprint, then get over to its PeerJ page and leave your feedback. You’ll be helping us to improve the scientific record. We’ll acknowledge substantial comments in the final paper, but even the pickiest comments are appreciated.

Because we want to encourage this approach to bringing papers to publication, we’d ask you please do not post comments about the paper here on SV-POW!. Please post them on the PeerJ preprint page. We’ve leaving comments here open for discussion of the preprinting processes, but not the scientific content.

References

  • Taylor, Michael P., and Mathew J. Wedel. 2013a. Barosaurus revisited: the concept of Barosaurus (Dinosauria: Sauropoda) is based on erroneously referred specimens. (Talk given as: Barosaurus revisited: the concept of Barosaurus (Dinosauria: Sauropoda) is not based on erroneously referred specimens.) pp. 37-38 in Stig Walsh, Nick Fraser, Stephen Brusatte, Jeff Liston and Vicen Carrió (eds.), Programme and Abstracts, 61st Symposium on Vertebrae Palaeontology and Comparative Anatomy, Edinburgh, UK, 27th-30th August 2013. 33 pp.
  • Taylor, Michael P., and Mathew J. Wedel. 2013b. The neck of Barosaurus was not only longer but also wider than those of Diplodocus and other diplodocines. PeerJ PrePrints 1:e67v1 http://dx.doi.org/10.7287/peerj.preprints.67v1

What is an ad-hominem attack?

September 4, 2013

I recently handled the revisions on a paper that hopefully will be in press very soon. One of the review comments was “Be very careful not to make ad hominem attacks”.

I was a bit surprised to see that — I wasn’t aware that I’d made any — so I went back over the manuscript, and sure enough, there were no ad homs in there.

There was criticism, though, and I think that’s what the reviewer meant.

Folks, “ad hominem” has a specific meaning. An “ad hominem attack” doesn’t just mean criticising something strongly, it means criticising the author rather than the work. The phrase is Latin for “to the man”. Here’s a pair of examples:

  • “This paper by Wedel is terrible, because the data don’t support the conclusion” — not ad hominem.
  • “Wedel is a terrible scientist, so this paper can’t be trusted” – ad hominem.

What’s wrong with ad hominem criticism? Simply, it’s irrelevant to evaluation of the paper being reviewed. It doesn’t matter (to me as a scientist) whether Wedel strangles small defenceless animals for pleasure in his spare time; what matters is the quality of his work.

Note that ad hominems can also be positive — and they are just as useless there. Here’s another pair of examples:

  • “I recommend publication of Naish’s paper because his work is explained carefully and in detail” — not ad hominem.
  • “I recommend publication of Naish’s paper because he is a careful and detailed worker” — ad hominem.

It makes no difference whether Naish is a careful and detailed worker, or if he always buys his wife flowers on their anniversary, or even if he has a track-record of careful and detailed work. What matters is whether this paper, the one I’m reviewing, is good. That’s all.

As it happens the very first peer-review I ever received — for the paper that eventually became Taylor and Naish (2005) on diplodocoid phylogenetic nomenclature — contained a classic ad hominem, which I’ll go ahead and quote:

It seems to me perfectly reasonable to expect revisers of a major clade to have some prior experience/expertise in the group or in phylogenetic taxonomy before presenting what is intended to be the definitive phylogenetic taxonomy of that group. I do not wish to demean the capabilities of either author – certainly Naish’s “Dinosaurs of the Isle of Wight” is a praiseworthy and useful publication in my opinion – but I question whether he and Taylor can meet their own desiderata of presenting a revised nomenclature that balances elegance, consistency, and stability.

You see what’s happening here? The reviewer was not reviewing the paper, but the authors. There was no need for him or her to question whether we could meet our desiderata: he or she could just have read the manuscript and found out.

(Happy ending: that paper was rejected at the journal we first sent it to, but published at PaleoBios in revised form, and bizarrely is my equal third most-cited paper. I never saw that coming.)

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