What happens, happens, however unfortunate! Where people work mistakes occur. No matter how careful we do our clinical work, there is always the possibility of a mistake, an error or an omission. Sometimes the cause lies within ourselves, sometimes it's someone else's fault or indeed an organizational failure.
Since our clinical work has become increasingly complex, with more interdependency and more moments of transition of medical information, the need for adequate dealing with mistakes has grown rapidly over the last decennium. If we manage to stay calm and reflective, dealing with mistakes is still difficult, yet not impossible. Prior to discussing the issue of correctional editorial procedures, we want to specifically emphasize that great effort is put into actually preventing mistakes.
With regard to overcoming mistakes, much can be learned from doctor–patient interaction. By taking patients seriously, listening actively (not only hearing what they say, but also letting them know that we have actually understood them), especially paying attention to their emotional stories, their worries and concerns, mistakes can transform into a steep learning curve.
Preventing mistakes takes time and money, but as they cynically say in airline business: “If you think prevention is expensive, try an accident!” Unfortunately, even with preventative measures in place, sometimes situations still run an unexpected course.
In the routine of editing and publishing a scientific journal, things can also go wrong. The following brief case history will illustrate this: one of our most distinguished colleagues Barbro Wijma, sent us, also on behalf of her colleague authors Lars-Erik Gustafsson, Suruchi Thapar-Björkert and Katarina Swahnberg, a manuscript entitled ‘What is an error?’. After passing the normal editorial checks it was accepted for publication and was sent to the publishers office. Unfortunately the name of one of the co-authors, Lars-Erik Gustafsson, was accidentally deleted and hence not incorporated. Talk about errors!
Normally this is annoying but certainly no disaster since all authors are able to make (small) corrections in the proof queries. Our dear colleague immediately took action by correcting the prints and notifying our editorial manager. We in turn did the same and notified the publisher's office. The situation had been handled well, or so we assumed, since the occurred mistake had been rectified. End of problem.
However, there is something in life called Murphy's Law and on opening the December issue of 2005 we were, as the British say so well, not amused. The missing author, Lars-Erik Gustafsson, was still missing and this time in print!
A sense of horror descended on us. What to do other than immediately apologizing to the authors (again)?
From our clinical experience on making mistakes, we know that in situations like this, it is often of very little use to extensively discuss the medical facts or procedures with the patient. Translating this to the editorial domain, we can safely assume there is no benefit in an extensive expose on editorial or printing procedures, to somewhat soften the pain of the harm done. Not so much the “what” but the “how” is crucial in resolving this type of problem. Harm has been done, but what positive meaning can we extrapolate from the mistake?
What we as clinicians have learned from our patients is that after a mistake has taken place, the most important thing to the patient, next to openness, is the assurance of the clinicians involved that the suffering experience won't happen again (nor to others). And the best guarantee for this, is to transform the mistake into education, like a lesson to be learned. And therefore dear Barbro, Lars-Erik and co-authors, besides our already sent apologies (which were kindly accepted), we as editorial staff would like to dedicate this educational editorial to you, as a lesson learned.