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Journal of Clinical Oncology, Vol 26, No 1 (January 1), 2008: pp. 3-4 © 2008 American Society of Clinical Oncology. DOI: 10.1200/JCO.2007.15.2975
Res Ipsa LoquitorUniversity of Pennsylvania Cancer Center, Philadelphia, PA If I knew in 2001 what I know now, I might never have accepted the editorship of the Journal. I am especially cognizant of this after having read the accompanying Editorials by my predecessors, Joe Bertino and George Canellos. It was not by intent that I began to write this Editorial after having read theirs. It was simply a matter of writer's block. This is one of the reasons keeping me from writing a regular Editorial on diverse topics. Many people have asked me why I haven't used the Journal as a bully pulpit. Those people who know me are already aware that I am quite reticent about expressing my opinions. But it is not for that reason that a regular piece with a catchy title, such as "From the Editor's Desk," has not appeared. It is writer's block. I would much rather lecture to a few thousand people than write a few paragraphs. Let me return to the Editorials of Joe Bertino and George Canellos. As I said earlier, if I knew the history of the Journal in 2001 as well as I do now, I might not have responded favorably to the call from Joe Bailes, who—as president of ASCO—appointed me to this position. I still recall receiving his phone call at 4 in the morning in Maui, with his gentle words of encouragement: "Don't mess this up"... or something to that effect. This is now my mantra, chanted before every Board of Director's meeting and whenever an impending crisis seems certain. Joe and George provided me amazing shoulders to stand on. I admire and thank them every day for the incredible courage they had to launch this enterprise and then to grow it to the point where I have had no choice but to work as hard as possible to promote the maturation of the Journal. Parenthetically, however, I have to say that I was jealous when I read that Joe Bertino and his editors had annual meetings in a "delightful venue." This tradition has been lost. During my tenure, the best we have done has been lunches during the Annual Meetings, at temples of haute cuisine such as the Orange County Convention Center in Orlando. When I began my tenure as Editor-in-Chief in 2001, I made a series of risky statements. Perhaps it was a bit of whistling in the dark, but I predicted that our impact factor would reach 10.000 and that JCO would be the "one journal that every clinical hematologist-oncologist needs to read." Fulfillment of this latter boast may be hard to quantify, but our readership surveys and word of mouth indicate to me at least, that this may well be true. We also look to our readership surveys, which we take very seriously. The impact factor, which compares the number of citations of JCO articles in other journals to the total number of published articles, is quantifiable. JCO exceeded 10.000 in 2005; in 2006, it was 13.598. The Journal is now the second highest peer-reviewed oncology journal, and last year's immediacy index, which measures citations last year to articles published last year, was 3.485—the highest of any clinical oncology journal. Based on these data, I think I can confidently predict that the JCO will be top rated by any measure within the next few years. How did this success happen? First, we started with the solid foundations of the Journal as described in the Editorials by Drs Bertino and Canellos. Second, we have an editorial office that is managed by the most dedicated, loyal, and competent people I have ever known. Since we began self-publication, we have been supported by a remarkably talented publishing group. Widening circles of support extend to the Deputy and Associate Editors, who do most of the work, and whose efforts are largely unsung. The circles further extend to the Editorial Board, the Publications Committee, and the thousands of reviewers who voluntarily provide superb peer reviews. Without these reviewers, JCO simply could not exist. Finally, the contributors and readership represent the Journal's greatest support and its sole reason for existence. As Joe Bertino noted, the JCO is not all work; everyone involved in the production of the Journal truly enjoys their roles. I can recall only a few unpleasant episodes over the last 6 years, which is perhaps surprising given all of the potential pitfalls in medical publishing. Despite thousands of manuscripts that have passed our way, I have had very few negative interactions, and the specter of conflict of interest has remained just that: a specter. The potential for conflict will always exist, but disclosure and the awareness of potential conflicts by the ultimate judges—the readers—maintain the credibility of the Journal. One thing I will miss when I hang up my pen in 2011 will be the encounters I have with authors. Virtually all are positive, but I do know that all authors, including myself, think of their manuscripts as their children. Therefore, I am always careful to fawn over even the ugliest baby. Even I am at a loss for words when I meet someone, and they ask about their manuscript JCO/2007/14308, or "my paper on breast cancer." I still have a good memory, but the JCO received about 5,000 contributions in 2007, and I sometimes need more specifics to offer a helpful response. On behalf of the editorial staff and my fellow editors, of what am I most proud?
Starting with this issue, and continuing in every regular issue this year, you will see a JCO article reprinted from 1983. The editors felt that the best way to celebrate 25 years of publication of the Journal was by marking the history of oncology. We are a relatively young specialty, whose progress has been fundamentally documented in the pages of this Journal. Because of Joe Bertino's powers of persuasion, that first year of publication is remarkable for the breadth and depth of articles. To complement these reprints, we asked the original authors to comment on their work and to discuss the evolution of their findings over the past quarter century. Of the 30 papers chosen, every author agreed to participate. I have had the chance to see many of these editorial commentaries, and I believe they are landmarks in the history and literature of oncology. These are among the first Editorials for which I was at a near-complete loss for commentary. I hope you read them in appreciation of the history of our specialty and use them in journal clubs and other venues to teach junior colleagues about the development of oncology and the people who guided the process. All of JCO's accomplishments did not come from just one person or group of people. They arose from need, collaboration, and hard work. There are certainly many people I should thank, though I hesitate to do so for fear of omitting anyone. I am deeply appreciative of past ASCO presidents, who have been quietly supportive and always respectful of journalistic independence. Successive Boards of Directors have also been enormously helpful in steering JCO, sometimes referred to as the flagship of ASCO's journalistic fleet. In the early years of my tenure, I reported on the status of JCO to the Board of Directors twice a year; this presentation was subsequently reduced to an annual event. In 2007, I wasn't required to report in person at all. I suspect there are two possible reasons for this: first, whenever I speak about JCO, I tend to be a bit verbose; second, the Journal is doing well, and the Board likely needs to spend more time on problems than successes. I prefer to believe the latter. I want to thank Joe Bailes, who gave me the greatest opportunity of my career. On behalf of everyone who has worked with the Journal, I would also like to pay particular respect to Deb Whippen. Despite her many roles in ASCO, she gave me her time, wisdom, and support when I needed them to mature in my role as Editor. Finally, the title of this Editorial. One principle of law is res ipsa loquitor, which means "the thing speaks for itself," typically now applied in negligence cases. Whenever something appears self-evident, this same concept has been stated in different ways. The architect Christopher Wren, the rebuilder of London after the Great Fire of 1666, is buried within his own creation, St Paul's Cathedral. His epitaph there reads: Si monumentum requiris circumspice, "If you seek my monument look around you." So, reader, don't simply take the words of the Editors about the successes of the Journal. Look for the merits of JCO between its covers and judge for yourself its first quarter century of publication and its promise for the future. AUTHOR's DISCLOSURES OF POTENTIAL CONFLICTS OF INTEREST The author(s) indicated no potential conflicts of interest. This article has been cited by other articles:
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Copyright © 2008 by the American Society of Clinical Oncology, Online ISSN: 1527-7755. Print ISSN: 0732-183X
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