A colleague used to call it the recipe section, but it’s more often called Materials and Methods, Experimental or Experimental Procedures. No matter what the name, it’s about as interesting to read as a basting recipe. Which is to say: writing it is the equivalent of eating your broccoli. When you’re stuck, it can be the best place to get unstuck, because it’s really just about putting one foot in front of the other, right? First we washed the samples, then we dried them. Then we put them in a solution of 5% this, 8% that, 7 % 3M solution – et cetera. I’m starting to yawn already.
The M&M section is so dull that high-profile journals pressed for space have begun putting them at the end of the article, or omitting them from the print version altogether. Most other journals still retain the M&M in the traditional place: between the introduction and the results, but even there the section is often overlooked. Who needs this section unless you’re planning on replicating the experiment in the grand scientific tradition, am I right?
Wrong. Understanding how the experiments were set up, what parameters were used, which temperatures and times were applied, is one of the most critical elements of the paper, and understanding the sexy parts of the paper – the conclusions and its larger implications for science and for life – is impossible without a solid grounding in the methods used to obtain the results upon which the conclusion rests.
Take, for example, the following responses of three different reviewers to a recent paper submitted to Minerals & Metallurgical Processing:
1. “As presented the manuscript is NOT suitable for publication. This is not meant to necessarily be a criticism of the experimental work that was undertaken, but more a reflection that the manuscript provides insufficient information, especially for the experimental and analysis section relating to the XPS. As this is germane to the whole paper, the manuscript needs to be substantially revised. As it currently stands a reader is not able to actually follow what was done – which is one of the basic principles in writing a manuscript.
For example; the experimental section simply indicates that the instrument was a PHI5500. No useful further information is given. Essential that analyzer conditions, scan times, channel widths etc are all provided.
Was the standard dual source used (i.e. un-monochromated Mg Ka radiation)? Or was it monochromated? This has a substantial bearing on the spectra. Most mono’s tend to run off Al Ka, so the suspicion is that it was un-monochromated. If that is indeed the case then the extended raw data spectrum showing X-ray satellites and background fit should also be indicated. If a mono was used then the same applies, though a narrower energy range can be shown.”
2. “What material was used in leaching? Is it ore, flotation concentrate or pure handpicked mineral?”
3. “In figure 7 a plot of molar ratio of chlorate consumed to copper dissolved is given against time. How is the chlorate consumption obtained? Nothing is given on that in the materials and methods section.”
Now, the Materials and Methods section from this paper was 376 words long – not exhaustive, but definitely there. And yet the material it presented was inadequate to understand the results obtained.
In order to write an effective Methods section, then, it’s clear that an author must do more than write a recipe. Every piece of information must be weighed carefully in light of the results and the information that is most important to the understanding of the results must be emphasized. Other material can be summarized or the reader can be referred to another publication that describes the procedure in more detail.
Methods: not as easy as they first appear – and not as dull, either.
Emily Wortman-Wunder is the managing editor of the Society of Mining, Metallurgy, and Exploration’s premier peer-reviewed journal, Minerals & Metallurgical Processing. Her column appears on the SME community page every other Monday.