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A classic notion within critical education and pedagogy is that evaluation should be a learning opportunity for all the parties involved, rather than a mere ‘accountability’ instance. Peer review, a fundamental pillar of scientific publishing, seems to have deviated from that concept lately – if it ever harbored it. The famous double blind peer review mechanism, where neither reviewers nor authors know each other’s identities, has always been more aimed at values such as objectivity, equanimity, and rigor in the assessment of others’ works.

Nevertheless, the feelings of unrest currently agitating the academic world seem to indicate that, while this system is the most robustly developed and widely accepted, it is not without flaws. Editors all over the world notice the growing difficulty in engaging scholars to lend their time and expertise (voluntarily, pro bono, and for a meager symbolic recognition) to determine whether a manuscript is publishable or not. Besides, biases unrelated to science can permeate reviews; for example, linguistic biases, detrimental to scholars writing for publication in their second, third, or even fourth languages. In the worst cases, anonymity can enable criticism that is more destructive than constructive.

In this context, any initiative that dares to break the mold and seeks to restore the formative, dialogic, and human dimension of peer review is welcome. Such was my experience – the first in my career – with the open review process for Culture Machine Vol. 23 ‘Publishing after Progress’. Not only were the authors and I aware of each other’s identities. If that had been the case, but our communication had been mediated by an editor or limited to a platform, the innovation would have been scarce. Knowing who the reviewer is but not being able to contact them may constitute an extra source of anxiety for those submitting their work. At the same time, it could enable arbitrariness in the review. On the contrary, the editor for this issue of Culture Machine acted as an initial matchmaker, and graciously stepped aside to allow for Sheila, Eduardo. and I to exchange our points of view.

Once that first contact had been established, we had plenty of freedom to choose the workflow that better suited us. Because I now knew my interlocutors, I was able to situate their submitted manuscript within their lines of research, and to understand the epistemic and political standpoint behind their work. I began my review writing all my (many) comments on the manuscript with a very clear objective in mind: to build the best possible version of this text together. At the same time, I rested assured that any possible misunderstanding would be solved by talking. Thus, after my first reading and round of feedback, we met to have a meta-commentary session on my observations, where we negotiated arguments and counter-arguments, possibilities and expectations, deadlines and ways forward. In this conversation about open infrastructures, global inequities, publishing systems, and academic genres, there was no lack of laughter, because a rigorous scientific, theoretical and methodological discussion needs not be opposed to nor exclude cordiality and good humor. Quite the contrary.

The text you have in your hands today is the result of an open process of co-construction, rather than review, which I found highly enriching. It is to be expected that several formats and options of this editorial modality are rehearsed before they become accepted and more or less widely adopted. Time will tell if open peer review is an improvement from the traditional blind review. But, a priori, I consider the moment is timely to, as scholars, dare to remove our blindfolds.