Accusations of sexual misconduct in academia can damage a researcher’s reputation in ways that scientific fraud does not. A new study published in PLoS ONE finds that scientists accused of sexual harassment see a drop in citations after media coverage of the allegations—while those accused of fabricating data and other scientific misconduct continue to be cited at the same rate.
In the wake of the #MeToo movement, behavioral scientist Giulia Maimone of UCLA set out to examine how allegations of sexual harassment affect citation practices in STEM and the social sciences. Her team analyzed citation patterns for 15 researchers accused of sexual misconduct, 15 accused of scientific fraud, and 142 researchers with no allegations. The expectation was that those accused of fraud would suffer a greater reputational penalty, as their misconduct directly undermines the validity of their scientific work. But the findings defied that assumption.
The study found that citations for scientists accused of sexual harassment declined significantly after allegations became public, while those accused of research fraud saw no such drop—even though both groups experienced a decrease in publication rates. The results suggest that the academic community reacts more strongly to sexual misconduct than to violations of scientific integrity, a finding that sociologist Anna Bull of the University of York believes could signal shifting attitudes in academia.
However, the study may only reflect extreme cases. Allegations severe enough to reach the media are typically the most egregious, especially in regions where defamation laws limit public reporting. Research-integrity expert Elisabeth Bik sees both progress and concern in the findings: while it is encouraging that scientists take sexual misconduct seriously, the fact that fraudulent research continues to be cited raises questions about accountability in science. Fraudulent papers might still be referenced for their content or even as examples of misconduct, making it harder to track reputational damage.
The motivations behind citation trends remain uncertain. Some scholars may intentionally avoid citing sexual harassers as a form of punishment, while others might be protecting their own reputations by distancing themselves. Interestingly, when surveyed, academics claimed they would rather cite a paper from a known harasser than from a scientific fraudster. Yet, in practice, their citation patterns suggest otherwise—implying that researchers might unconsciously react more strongly to sexual misconduct than to fraud.
The broader implications are complex. Withholding citations as a form of social accountability could inadvertently impact innocent collaborators, including victims of harassment. It could also create a chilling effect, discouraging individuals from reporting misconduct if they fear they will be blamed for the accused’s professional downfall. At the same time, Maimone suggests that the findings may reassure survivors, showing that the scientific community does take allegations seriously.
The question remains: should science be judged separately from the scientist? Ivan Oransky, co-founder of Retraction Watch, believes there is no clear answer. What is certain, however, is that citation practices are not just a measure of scientific impact—they are a reflection of the evolving ethical landscape in academia.
