Dear Researchers:

Welcome! You have just landed on a page that we hope will feel different – not because we are trying to be quirky or trendy, but because we believe that the conversation about scholarly communication has been far too polite, too forgiving, and far too quiet for far too long.

So, let’s break the silence. And maybe even laugh a little. Because if we don’t laugh, we might cry.

The current mainstream academic publishing landscape offers you, dear scholar, essentially two choices:

Subscription‑based journals – You do not pay a fee to publish. Instead, your institution (or you personally, if you are unlucky) pays a hefty subscription fee to read the very papers that you and your peers wrote, reviewed, and edited – often for free.

Open access (OA) journals – The paper is free for everyone to read, but you – the author – are asked to pay an Article Processing Charge (APC) that can range from a few hundred to several thousand US dollars. Or euros. Or pounds. You get the idea.

On the surface, these two models seem different. One is “traditional,” the other “innovative.” One is often perceived as more “prestigious,” the other as more “democratic.”

But let’s think about it for a moment – rationally, independently, and honestly.

In both models, the same group of people ends up paying. The authors are often the readers. The readers are often the authors. We write the papers, we review the papers, we edit the papers (often unpaid), and then we – or our libraries – pay again to access them. And the publishers? They collect the money.

Is that reasonable?

Some argue that subscription journals are “higher quality” because they do not charge authors and because their acceptance rates are low. But let me ask: do the publishers write the papers? No. Do they perform the experiments? No. Do they spend sleepless nights analyzing data, revising manuscripts, or responding to reviewer comments? Of course not.

The intellectual labour – the real value – comes entirely from the scholarly community. The publisher’s role, while important (coordination, typesetting, dissemination), does not justify the extraordinary profit margins that characterise the industry.

Then there are open access journals. They are fast, efficient, and widely accessible – all good things. But let’s be honest: does the cost of processing a paper truly match the APCs that many OA journals charge? A few thousand dollars per article, when the actual editorial and production costs (using modern, automated, and community‑supported infrastructure) can be as low as a few dozen dollars? That is not “open access.” That is open‑access‑priced‑as‑a‑luxury.

Neither model is morally superior. Both, in their own “elegant” way, have turned the common good of human knowledge into a vehicle for extraordinary profit.

Some publishers have invented something called “differential pricing” or “geographic pricing.” They say: “We understand that researchers in different countries and institutions have different financial capacities. So we offer a discount – a caring, personalised discount – so you do not pay more than you can afford.”

When I first heard that, I was almost moved. How thoughtful! How compassionate!

But then I thought again.

If the processing cost of a paper is the same regardless of where the author sits (and it is), then what justifies charging different prices? If the cost is not the same, then please explain – openly – why handling a paper from a developing country is cheaper or more expensive than one from a developed country. Otherwise, this is not “fair pricing.” This is “let’s see how much money you have, and take as much as we can.”

And here is the even uglier part: some publishers have, for years, quietly implemented a reverse differential pricing – papers from developed countries are published for free, while authors from developing countries are charged the full APC.

Am I making this up? I wish I were.

Is that not, at its core, a form of institutional discrimination? It wears the fashionable coat of “differential pricing,” but underneath it is an old, familiar pattern: those with less are asked to pay more. Those who have already benefited from decades of research funding and infrastructure are given a free ride, while those struggling to build their research capacity are charged the highest price.

That is not “helping the poor.” That is the opposite of helping. Poverty alleviation gives money to the poor. This practice takes money *from* the poor. And in doing so, it actively contributes to widening the global research gap.

Let me ask you a question, dear colleague. Have you ever experienced bullying during the publication process?

“No,” you say? Let me be more specific.

Have you ever submitted a paper to a subscription journal, seen it stuck “Under Review” for six months, drafted three different versions of a polite inquiry email, and then – hesitated. And hesitated. And finally, after gathering all your courage, clicked “Send”? And then, within a week (sometimes within 24 hours), received a rejection letter that said “out of scope” – even though the paper had already been assigned to reviewers and you had received encouraging comments?

Why did you hesitate to send that email? Because you knew – we all know – that many journals punish authors who dare to ask for an update. A simple, professional inquiry is treated as an annoyance, and the paper is rejected not on its merit but because the author was “too pushy.”

If that is not bullying, what is?

And open access? Yes, the process is often faster and more transparent. But the APC itself – often thousands of dollars – is a form of structural bullying. It tells early‑career researchers, unfunded scholars, and researchers from low‑income countries: “You are welcome here, but only if you can afford the entry fee.”

There is another open secret in academic publishing: the oversized influence of “academic big names.”

Serving on editorial boards is important. These scholars contribute their expertise, time, and reputation. But let’s be honest – when a big name becomes an editor or a board member, do they suddenly find it easier to publish in that very journal? Does their own work receive the same rigorous, blind review as a paper from a young, unknown researcher from a small university?

We all know the answer.

Academic journals sometimes function like exclusive clubs. They need famous names on their mastheads as “badges of honour” – to signal quality, connections, and prestige. And the big names, in turn, need those masthead positions to signal that they are still relevant, still powerful, still part of the inner circle. It is a mutually beneficial arrangement, often disguised as “academic leadership.”

But for the rest of us – the thousands of scholars who are not yet “big names” – this system creates an uneven playing field. It is not a meritocracy. It is a network of favours, reputations, and unspoken privileges.

We believe that scholarly publishing should be a platform for ideas, not for personalities. A fair system should judge a paper by its scientific contribution, not by the author’s h‑index or institutional affiliation.

So, What Do We Do Differently? Introducing Academia Fructus Press.

After all that criticism – and yes, some of it hurt to write, but it needed to be said – let me introduce the reason we exist.

Academia Fructus Press was born from a simple conviction: that academic publishing can be neither a profit‑maximising machine nor an unsustainable charity. It must be a balanced, low‑profit, stakeholder‑oriented enterprise.

We are not here to become billionaires. We are here to prove that a different way is possible.

Our Model – Low Profit, High Integrity.

We do not promise “free publishing.” Free, in the long run, is not sustainable. Someone always pays – whether it is a foundation, a university, or a government. And when only one party pays, the relationship becomes fragile. (As we say in our Chinese roast: “A love where only one person gives will eventually break. I know this from experience.”)

Instead, we promise this: if our profit exceeds a reasonable, transparent threshold, the surplus will be returned to the scholarly community and to society at large.

Not to shareholders. Not to executive bonuses. Back to you.

How Will We Give Back?

We have concrete ideas – and we are open to more:

– Grants for under‑resourced scholars – to buy equipment, attend conferences, or simply have some breathing room to do research.
– Support for students facing extended PhD timelines – because we know that extra years often mean financial hardship.
– Small, nimble research grants – open to anyone, with minimal administrative overhead.
– Scholarships for underprivileged K‑12 students – because knowledge should be nurtured from the very beginning.
– Donations to community causes – elderly care homes, orphanages, local libraries. Knowledge comes from society; it should give back to society.

We will publish every year a transparent financial report, showing exactly how much profit we made and where it went.

Our Commitment to You – No Hidden Fees, No “Service” Extortion.

Some publishers offer “author services” – image enhancement, language polishing, figure formatting. These can be useful. But too often, they are priced as luxury add‑ons, preying on authors who are already exhausted and under pressure.

We will provide basic, good‑quality support as part of the regular publication process. Not as an upsell. Not as a “premium” package. Because you – the author – are not a customer to be milked. You are a partner in the creation of knowledge.

Our Promise on Diversity and Fairness.

We will not practice differential pricing based on the author’s country or institution. Our processing fees (when applicable) will be the same for everyone, published openly on our website. If we ever offer waivers, they will be based on genuine financial need, not on geographic stereotypes or institutional brand names.

We will also actively work to democratise editorial boards. We welcome early‑career researchers, scholars from underrepresented regions, and those who have never been invited to sit on a “prestigious” board. Your perspective matters. Your voice is needed.

Will We Succeed? Maybe Not. But Someone Must Try.

Let me be brutally honest with you. The odds are against us. We are a small, newly established press. We have no multi‑million‑dollar legacy, no army of lawyers, no centuries of accumulated brand power. The giants of academic publishing are… well, giants.

We may fail. We may not become the mainstream. But when the history of academic publishing is written, we want this moment to be remembered as the moment when a group of scholars said: “Enough.” And then did something about it – not just complained on social media, but built an alternative.

Because if not us, who? If not now, when?

The academic publishing industry has been extracting super‑profits for decades. The transition to open access, while welcome, has not broken the rent‑seeking model – it has simply shifted the payment from readers to authors (and their funders). The underlying structure remains intact.

Someone needs to break it.

We are not saying we alone can do it. But we are saying: let’s start. Let’s build a low‑profit, transparent, author‑respecting, globally fair publishing house – brick by brick, paper by paper.

Join Us – As Author, Reader, Reviewer, Editor, or Supporter!

We invite you to be part of this experiment.

– Submit your best work – and know that you are supporting a different model.
– Review for us – we will never treat you as an invisible, unpaid cog. (We are still working out how to fairly recognise reviewers – but we are serious about it.)
– Join our editorial board – whether you are a famous professor or a sharp postdoc. Everyone is welcome.
– Donate – if you have a few dollars to spare, they will go directly to the community funds described above.
– Simply spread the word – share our website, tweet about us, mention us in your department’s coffee room. Awareness is the first step.

And finally, a sincere thank you. For reading this far. For staying angry about the injustices of academic publishing. For still believing that things can change.

We are Academia Fructus Press – from scholars, for scholars, with a smile and a fighting spirit.

Now, go write that paper. And when you publish it with us, we promise: no hidden fees, no editorial bullying, no “big name” privilege. Just good, fair, sustainable publishing.

“The era of crazy, predatory, rent‑seeking academic publishing will pass. Reason will return.  And we want to be part of making that happen.”

Welcome to Academia Fructus Press—where we are not just publishing papers, but nurturing the very pulse of academic progress.

Best regards,
Academia Fructus Press