Being a Peer Reviewer in Academia: What to Know

Post 7 in the Navigating Academic Publishing series

mmason39

10–15 minutes

For the seventh post of the series Navigating Academic Publishing, I provide an overview the peer review process from the perspective of being a reviewer. As early scholars begin establishing their scholarly presence, they will also be invited to review journal submissions. Much like the rest of the academic publishing process, learning how to perform a review is not readily presented. There are multiple posts from other scholars on how to perform effective reviews (links). This post covers the process I’ve adopted.

Why You Might Be Asked to Review

Emails inviting you to review a journal submission will usually come through the email associated with the submission portal. These addresses can sometimes get sent to spam or “quarantined”—especially by .edu email servers; be sure to check those folders from time to time. Requests will often come from the editor and will include the abstract, sometimes the essay is also attached to the email. There will then be links directing you to the right page, should you accept or decline the review.

Most journals will give you a 6-week timeframe to review the essay, usually marked from the date you’re asked rather than the date you accept. Personally—because of protracted review processes as an author—I will not accept a review unless I can immediately begin working on it (~3 days leeway). My motivations are (1) to expedite the author’s experience and (2) not to let the review drift to the back of my mind. I don’t want to compound another scholar’s work being delayed because of my missing a review.

In some circles of communication and rhetoric, reviewers are beginning to sign their reviews. In other words, reviewers are disclosing their names to the author(s). I’ve heard some say it is a means of forging peer-to-peer mentorship and/or a conversation around the review of the essay, and others use it as a means of accountability. If an author knows who a reviewer is, they can more easily follow up to ask for clarification or elaboration without forcing the editorial staff to mediate. However, there’s a level of danger for reviewers from marginalized groups and/or those who do critical work if an author takes umbrage with a comment and they know who the reviewer is.

I am divided and (currently) do not sign my reviews. I have also not yet received a signed review, for what it’s worth. My only conscious reason is not to inadvertently preclude myself from re-reviewing the resubmission. Since it’s an emergent practice, it’s not necessarily clear (to me) how ardently individual editors want to adhere to full anonymous review from submission to publication. Any time a reviewer needs to be found, it prolongs the process for the author, and currently, I value helping expedite an author’s review process over the value of disclosing my name to them.

I do still try to forge a conversational facet to my reviews by anonymously annotating the manuscript as I read. If possible, I share the anonymized version when I submit the review (some portals have space to add files, others don’t). Line notes in the review text is common, but I find the in-text comments clearer for the author while revising and allowing the review to speak holistically.

Step-by-Step Writing the Review

There’s no one right way to construct a review. I try to think of it as, “What kind of feedback letter would I want as an author?” For constructing the text of the review, I typically write in a Word document rather than using the review portal, then copy/paste it over. Practically, working in Word allows me to work on the review in bits and pieces without having to worry about leaving open a browser window. Further, having the document version allows for record-keeping. I find I’ll forget what my comments were to an author by the time the revisions come in, so having the review file helps refresh what was lacking in the prior submission.

In the text of the review I try to accomplish the following:

Thank the author explicitly and immediately. Submitting work requires vulnerability and a level of trust, and I like to acknowledge that act by the author before anything else.
Summarize the argument in a sentence or two. We, as authors, “know” what our arguments are, but hearing how the reader receives the argument as it’s written gives valuable insight. By putting the general argument in my own words, I hope to show the author(s) how their arguments are landing at present.
Addressing what is strong about the submission. If an essay goes out for review, then there are strong qualities present in the text. Pointing those out can prevent an author from immediately tuning out of a review if it is overly critical. Also, in line with the vulnerability of peer review, at the end of the day, authors want to hear “good job on this writing.” Thus, even a small “this was good,” can offer motivation as the author/s move/s into revision.
Offering an overall “diagnosis” of the submission. This is often done through a metaphor, but sometimes can also address a misfit/misalignment with the journal being submitted to. I am guilty of using the “this is a seminar paper more than an article” metaphor, but even in that, I try to explain where the disconnect occurs.
- This is also where I will usually explicitly state what my “decision” for the paper is on the reject, revise, accept scale. I think understanding how reviewers see the differences in those various decisions is an important part of the socialization process in publishing/academia. I’ve had experiences of editors not sharing that information, which didn’t sit well with me, so I try to forestall that experience for authors.
Offering actionable feedback. There’s no lack of feedback (usually) in peer reviews, but it is not always actionable. For instance, “streamline this.” How? What is clunky to the reviewer? What seems irrelevant? While it can be helpful for authors to think through those questions on their own, reviewers also have valuable insight into the area and should offer such insight. For example:
- If I prompt the author(s) to include different literature, I give them specific names and titles that will help their argument.
- If the structure or organization is off, I will offer what I think would be a stronger section progression. (e.g., “I would order the sections: introduction, literature review about [topic] and [topic], methodology/ archive, analysis with [three ideas] for topoi, and a discussion of the implications as it relates to [x].”)
- If wording causes the reader to stumble in places, I’ll offer rephrasing options and/or a short comment about how that dissonance lands and how to reword.
Ending on an encouraging note. By the end of the review, it can be easy for the author(s) to focus on all the critiques. Ending with a “I hope the author continues moving this forward,” can do a lot to reorient an author(s)’s perspective.

Specifics in My Reviews

Reviews are personal and specific to the reviewers, so each unfolds differently. I have a handful of other practices that I sometimes use depending on the review.

I will flag my neurodivergence near the start of my review, especially if I have constructed a review on the longer side.
- I use something along the lines of: “As a neurodivergent reviewer, I tend to err on the side of over-explanation to ensure clarity in my feedback. My comments are offered in that spirit—aiming for precision and constructive engagement, rather than implying any deficiency on the part of the author(s).”
I stay under 1500 words, max. Most tend to be at or under 1000.
- Having been on the receiving end of exorbitant feedback, I understand the challenge of moving forward if there’s too much information.
Suggesting friends, colleagues, and mentors’ work. This may seem obvious, but suggest the people in your networks for authors.
- You’re not only giving the authors pointed feedback, but you’re also paying it forward in a way. Relatedly, the editor chose you to be the reviewer for a reason, a lot of which was the conversations you’re already a part of on and off the page.
Address venue fit. At this point, reviewers are usually reading the essay text more deeply than the editorial staff has.
- If, as you read, the text of the essay does not feel like a fit for the journal, explain why, how to tweak, and/or if they should consider another venue. For example, a submission to a critical media studies journal has mediated artifacts, but they do not engage any areas of media studies research. The reasoning “makes sense,” but is it the best fit in that case?
Note to editors in the portal. The review forms usually have a spot for private notes to the editor about the submission, marked as optional.
- I tend to just write something along the lines of, “Thanks for your service with the journal and thinking of me for this review!”
- Sometimes, I will also give a headline of the review/decision (e.g., “this was a strong submission but felt like a condensed version of a larger project.”), especially if the review text is on the longer side.
Attaching the review to my ORCiD. This is only asked in some portals/journals, but it’s an offer to show a review with the journal on your ORCID profile. Given that reviewing tends to be invisible labor, I select to have it listed.

Again, there’s no one right way to construct a review, but my aim is to always set the author up for success however I can.

Peer Reviewed Advice

Do not submit to a journal with zero consideration of the venue and fit for your article.
- At minimum, you should be engaging articles from that journal in your essay or speaking to an erasure/myopia in that journal/discipline’s history.
Reviewers, while anonymous, are still (1) people and (2) your colleagues. It’s a peer review. You will see these people again, whether you know it or not.
- Maintain respect in anything that goes to reviewers or even mentions reviewers. (Editors see this discourse, too—with everyone’s names attached.)
- Sometimes it’s better to take the hit and let the reviewer look like the unprofessional party. It’s all part of the game.
- At the same time, you are not required to deny your humanity (or anyone else’s) in the face of hate-based feedback.
Sit with reviewer feedback for at least 24 hours before re-reading the essay. Then, wait at least 24 more hours before you begin revisions.
- It can also be helpful for newer authors to have a trusted colleague pre-read the feedback and offer their read.
Don’t be afraid to approach every R&R like a tear-down remodel, but don’t unnecessarily gut a strong paper just because it got an R&R.
- Reorganization can be a powerful tool in peer review. A literature review that was “clunky” as a solo-section may “sing” if it’s broken up and sprinkled in the analysis.
I will sometimes begin by drafting the resubmission letter describing how I tackled the revisions before I actually do them. It’s a test run of sorts, but also helps me orient my thoughts.
If you receive conflicting feedback, don’t be afraid to ask the editor what their opinion is on reconciling the disparity—assuming the editor doesn’t already.
- I would suggest approaching it as something along the lines of: “I’m considering taking Reviewer 1’s advice [about x] where it diverges from Reviewer 2’s, but I wondered if perhaps you had opinions on one over the other.”
- See the sample materials in the previous post for examples of working through how to say no to reviewer suggestions.
To be frank, the review process exacts a toll. Framing that toll is very important for seeing an article through the review process to publication. Try to find productive-yet-protective ways to frame it early on.
- This is where I believe the “gamification” of publishing happened for me.
- Each stage is a “level,” and there are general guidelines for each level, but there are also rules specific to each level. Each attempt is more data for the next attempt, and helps you build a repertoire for other “versions” of the game.
- Each round of review teaches you what it takes to satisfy reviewers (aka beat the level boss) so that you can adjust your subsequent submissions (aka retries of the final boss battle).
If something feels “off” in the peer review process—a comment, how something is handled, etc.—it probably is off. Don’t just ignore it or accept it as fact.
- Ask a peer and/or a mentor for advice on it. Should it be something that warrants such action, there is recourse available.
- You likely are not the only one who has experienced something off from the journal, editor, and/or reviewer. Whisper networks are real and powerful.
Academia, publishing, humanities, Communication, Rhetoric, and more at all deeply and historically white, male, ableist, classist, xenophobic, and queer-antagonistic areas. This necessarily includes the peer-review process since it is (1) the process that builds what is deemed scholarship and (2) populated by the people of these unwelcoming spaces.
- All that is to say, you are more likely than less to encounter hate-informed feedback (read: racist, sexist, ableist…) at some point in your reviews from reviewers and/or editors—particularly if the work engages themes of oppression, marginalization, and/or resistance.
- Further, you are more likely than less to experience gatekeeping at some/every stage of the process as a new scholar at some point. The omnipresent “this is a seminar paper” is the tip of the iceberg in many cases. Generally, the more “revered” the journal, the greater the chances reviewers will be austere.
Remember: you are not your writing; they are making themselves look bad; there are avenues of recourse—particularly for association journals; you don’t have to accept the hate-informed advice; you can request new reviewers; and, just because another academic said it does not mean it is factual.
- If, like me, you tend to want to speak back to that, do so professionally with evidenced reasons.

What do you do or hope to do when you’re asked to review an article? Was there a specific review you’ve gotten that you hope to emulate, if so, what made it so effective?

The next post will be a wrap-up of sorts where I offer some final advice, an exhaustive checklist for prepping peer review, and other resources.

Myles W. Mason, PhD.