Critics and defenders weigh in on Stanford president’s resignation after research investigation

After Stanford University president and prominent neuroscientist Marc Tessier-Lavigne announced he would resign following an investigation into his research, the scientific community did what it always does with new results: engage in a robust internal debate, marked by a variety of opinions.

For some, the investigation, which found Tessier-Lavigne failed to “decisively and forthrightly” correct past papers that contained data manipulation, was a positive example of scientific accountability, and his resignation an important step to preserve the university’s reputation and to show high-profile figures can be held responsible for manipulated data produced under their watch.

Others shared disappointment with the investigation, however, as well as with Tessier-Lavigne’s resignation announcement, which they felt blamed other researchers in his lab and didn’t do enough to take responsibility for his missteps.

STAT spoke with a wide range of scientists, from Stanford faculty and life science trainees to outside researchers, image analysis experts, and editors of scientific journals. Here’s what they had to say, and where and how opinions split.

Comments on the report

STAT spoke with two scientists, Alzheimer’s expert Matthew Schrag and image analysis authority Elisabeth Bik, who said they’d been interviewed by the panel of outside scientists that prepared the report with a former federal judge. Both said their conversations with the panel were encouraging.

“They seemed to be asking the right questions,” said Bik, who was one of the first scientists who raised questions about images in Tessier-Lavigne’s papers. “I felt that they were paying attention. They were interested in my opinion. They were taking notes.”

But the Stanford Daily, the university’s student newspaper, raised questions about the conduct of the special investigative committee’s review on Wednesday when it reported that some witnesses to alleged research misconduct under Tessier-Lavigne’s oversight at the biotech Genentech either gave the committee incomplete information or declined to speak with the panel after they weren’t granted anonymity.

This issue could have hampered the committee’s search for answers, Stanford bioethicist and legal scholar Hank Greely told STAT, but he added that it’s possible the panel simply couldn’t guarantee anonymity in the small, tight-knight world of academic science and biotech.

“I would be surprised if the committee unreasonably withheld promises of anonymity,” he said. “I could certainly imagine circumstances where those witnesses wanted guarantees that a committee could not reasonably provide.”

To some, the report’s finding that Tessier-Lavigne could not have reasonably been expected to have known about manipulated data in papers he co-authored, including image duplications and distortions, seemed improbable. “They say he couldn’t have realistically detected it while someone who wasn’t a paper author detected it immediately, and that is definitely letting him off easy,” said James Heathers, a research integrity expert who, like Bik, is part of a small group of sleuths who take on the job of identifying possible data or imaging issues in scientific papers.

“It’s clear from looking at these images that there’s a big problem with them. He could have seen that. It’s not hidden,” Bik said. “And if you can see some of the problems in these photos, it also makes you wonder if there’s other problems in other data in those papers. And I’m not sure if that was investigated.”

Others felt that, in at least some places, the report was overly critical of Tessier-Lavigne. Holden Thorp, editor-in-chief of the journal Science, which published two papers in 2001 on which Tessier-Lavigne was an author, noted that the neuroscientist had sent the journal corrections that Science never ran. The panel acknowledged the issue, though it also critiqued Tessier-Lavigne for not doing enough to follow up with Science.

“It’s certain to me that we’re the ones that dropped the ball,” Thorp said. “I wasn’t wild about the fact that the committee dinged him for not following up with us, because we’re the ones who failed to post that.”

What Thorp found more troubling was the committee’s assessment of the culture of Tessier-Lavigne’s labs. While many former postdocs told the panel that the lab’s culture was positive, some also raised concerns about an environment that rewarded “winners,” meaning researchers who presented exciting results, while diminishing “losers.” It’s an issue that prompted a column Thorp published in Science on Wednesday on the dangers of big-name scientists attempting to balance administrative responsibilities with fostering a healthy and productive lab culture.

“What that says to me is that there wasn’t adequate supervision,” he said. “There was probably a lot of competition, which drove up the temptation to do this kind of thing.”

But framing the misconduct as a matter of being overstretched is unfair to all the academics who manage to juggle many responsibilities without neglecting the research conducted in their lab, said Monica McLemore, editor-in-chief of the Health Equity journal and a University of Washington professor, responding to Thorp’s column on social media. This is particularly true when it comes to people of color, she noted, because they often have additional responsibilities connected to diversity initiatives added on top of their regular work, all while being held to higher standards.

Reactions to the resignation

Tessier-Lavigne’s resignation announcement drew sadness from some, but sparked praise from others — including members of his own university’s life science community.

“I was happy to see he was stepping down,” said Chelsea Nnebe, a Stanford M.D.-Ph.D. student and member of the university’s neuroscience graduate program. “A lot of my friends said it should have happened much sooner.”

Nnebe added that she has discussed the Tessier-Lavigne case with peers often over the past several months. At times, the allegations have come up during classes. Last fall, for instance, Bik delivered a lecture to her and other graduate students on integrity in scientific imaging in which she said Bik walked through issues with figures in some of Tessier-Lavigne’s past papers.

The case also came up earlier this year during a research ethics training session held during a program retreat with other M.D.-Ph.D. students. Part of what troubles her most about the allegations is a sense that Tessier-Lavigne’s missteps would have been judged far more harshly and quickly if he were not a white man.

“I deeply feel as though [he] was able to get away with a lot of this because of his position as a powerful white man who also has money,” she said. “As a Black person, I go above and beyond to ensure that I’m saying the right things. I check my citations three times because I know people are going to doubt me.”

But for those close to Tessier-Lavigne, the now outgoing president’s departure is a somber moment.

“Marc is one of the most accomplished scientists of his generation, and much of what we know about the development of the nervous system comes from his lab,” said Cori Bargmann, a Rockefeller neuroscientist and friend of Tessier-Lavigne who has worked closely with him over the decades. “In my experience, Marc is a person of the highest integrity, intelligence, and generosity. … I’m sad that he made the decision to step down from the presidency of Stanford, because he was excellent in that role as well.”

That decision was almost certainly shaped by the complicated politics of running a major research university, in which concerns that a president has lost the ability to lead can quickly become self-fulfilling. And Greely points out that Tessier-Lavigne’s tenure had gotten mixed reviews from faculty even before the recent allegations.

“After this, moving forward I think would have been difficult for him. And, maybe most importantly, it couldn’t be fun,” said Greely, adding that while he isn’t close with Tessier-Lavigne, he likes him personally.

“The whole thing does make me sad, because I think, fundamentally, he’s a great scientist and a good, ethical person. And his legacy is tarred by this.”

This moment as a catalyst for change

While the report has had dramatic consequences for Tessier-Lavigne, opinions were split on whether the same would be true for how scientists go about their research more broadly.

“There may be a fair number of scientists interested in high academic positions who may be looking back over their publications closely,” Greely said.

But other academics doubted that the case would send a strong enough message to trigger a broader culture change toward increased accountability in research.

“Tessier-Lavigne may be stepping down, but he’s still going to maintain all his grants. He’s still going to be a tenured faculty member in the Department of Biology at Stanford, one of the most prestigious institutions in the country,” said David Blake, a professor of neuroscience at Augusta University. He compares this case to that of David Baltimore, who resigned as president of The Rockefeller University in the early 1990s after fraud allegations against another researcher with whom he co-authored a paper, noting that he continued to have a successful career.

Blake also said the issues in Tessier-Lavigne’s labs reflect broader structural challenges in science. In large laboratories with more than a dozen researchers, the lab head has limited time and resources to devote to training early-career scientists. And the pressure to publish high-impact papers often means advisers push lab members — knowingly or unknowingly — to produce results that would interest a handful of prestigious journals.

“I don’t think that this is ever going to change,” Blake said. “There’s no punishment to the lab if people in the lab are getting impactful publications by making things up. And if there’s problems with it, [the lab head] will trash the trainee’s career and apologize.”

Still, what happened at Stanford is a reminder of the responsibility not only of lab heads, but of the broader community involved in scientific publications, noted McLemore in a statement to STAT: “It is [a] matter of ethics that journal editors and reviewers are diligent in our roles to ensure the most accurate research findings become part of the published scientific record.”

Correction: This story has been updated to indicate that the Tessier-Lavigne case was discussed among Stanford M.D.-Ph.D. students while on a program retreat, and to correct Monica McLemore’s affiliation and title.