This week, I was excited to publish a First Opinion essay that ultimately didn't work out.
It happens sometimes: Even as it seems like we're close to the end, it turns out that the author and I can't come to an agreement on something — maybe something I think is small but the author thinks is large, or vice versa.
Part of me is pretty sad about that, because I think that the essay would have added an important dynamic to an ongoing discussion in medicine.
But I also think that it's a sign that this editorial process that I spend so much time on with each piece is working. I believe strongly that my priority as an editor must be the writer. It is their name on the piece, their reputation on the line. I never want to pressure someone into publishing anything that they aren't proud of or doesn't fully align with their perspective.
I also don't want to publish a piece that I don't think will end up working for STAT. I'm interested, as I've said before here and elsewhere, in provocative, well-supported arguments that aim to persuade. If the author and I ultimately can't agree on what that looks like, well, I've still spent time working on a fascinating piece with a smart person, which is ultimately to my benefit and to STAT's (and, hopefully, to the author's).
I may still end up seeing that piece published in another outlet. I very much hope to! And I hope to work with the author on something else. But I wanted to share this experience because so much about the editorial process can be opaque to outside observers. Sometimes pieces fall through, and it's nothing terrible.
Interested in writing for First Opinion? I should warn you I'm a little backed up on pieces at the moment — but I am in particular looking for smart, surprising essays on news in biotech and pharma right now. Submit your essay today.
Though that First Opinion didn't work out, I did publish lots of other wonderful pieces. Sergey Strashuk and Vira Horovenko, who work for SAFEMed in Ukraine, explained what PEPFAR has meant in Ukraine for tackling HIV, yes, but also for addressing the pandemic and the invasion of their country. "In Ukraine, as in many other countries, PEPFAR has helped countless families and communities weather some of the most daunting health challenges and build a better future. We urge Congress to reauthorize PEPFAR without delay and provide some much-needed good news to the people of Ukraine and the millions around the world whose lives have been saved by PEPFAR," they write.
Manil Suri, author of "The Big Bang of Numbers: How to Build the Universe Using Only Math," and Daniel Morgan, a physician, explain how new diagnostic tests for rare diseases are, in many cases, reaching their mathematical limits. Anya E.R. Prince highlights that new algorithms could, even accidentally, encourage workplace discrimination against pregnant women. De-Shaine Murray, co-founder of Black in Neuro, argues that the exploding field of neurotech must reckon with neuroscience's long history of racism. A dangerous side effect of new Alzheimer's drugs deserves more attention. Disabled Americans may be massively undercounted in the next Census. And on the podcast this week, I spoke with Peter D. Kramer about "Listening to Prozac" 30 years after its release.
Recommendation of the week: If you have the fortitude to make it through a pandemic novel (it's very reasonable not to want to read one when Covid is still a thing!), I highly endorse Sequoia Nagamatsu's sometimes bleak but beautiful "How High We Go in the Dark," which begins in 2030, when a climate change-related plague rocks the world. The second chapter is one of the most gut-wrenching things I've ever read, but it's worth sticking with it.
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