On several occasions in this column, I have bemoaned the advent of the electronic publication of journals and other publications in the field of medicine, in which I know something about publications, and doubtless in other fields. Shaking my thinning gray locks and shrugging my creaky shoulders, I have deplored the reality of growing sections of publications that are referenced to Web sites and not available in the pages I hold in my hand.
A few months ago, my wife got a renewal notice from a magazine she had subscribed to for a couple of decades. The price was being raised to include both the mailed paper copy and the electronic version. The electronic version could be subscribed to at a reduced rate. Because she did not like struggling with computers to read anything, I called the subscription number and asked about the price for the traditional paper copy. “Nobody ever asked us that,” replied the order taker. “What is the price?” I asked again. “I don’t know. I’ll have to find out and call you back.” An hour later, she called. “The circulation manager says we do not have a price for hard copies alone. He said you can start using our Web site now. You don’t have to wait until your new subscription starts.” So I replied, “Cancel our subscription as of now, and return our money for the remaining number of copies. It says on your masthead that you will refund money for a canceled subscription.” “Send us an e-mail to ask for cancelation,” she answered. “Let me speak to the circulation manager. I want to tell him how stupid this is.” “I’ll take care of it. Have a nice day,” she replied, and we rang off. A month later came the small check. I poured a small drink and felt smug.
But before you cast me aside as a Luddite opposed to all progress, read on for my epiphany.
On an airplane last week, I stretched and walked the length of the aisle twice. About half of the passengers had laptop computers active. I could not look at the contents of each one. But more people were reading than writing. When I think I have mastered my new laptop, I may take it along, more likely to write than to read.
A dozen years ago, shortly after I became the executive director of the International Society of Radiology, I decided that we needed a Web site. I got a friend to set it up and tend to the mechanics. I also realized that to communicate with my leaders and respond to people all over the world, I had to learn to use e-mail, so I did. With only a couple of exceptions, my leaders are as facile as I am. The timing is infinitely better than snail mail or fax transmissions. We would like to use e-mail to communicate with our 86 national radiology society members. But I cannot get e-mail addresses from almost half of the societies. So our messages go into envelopes with stamps attached. And we never know whether some of our addressees get our messages. We mail our newsletter and also make it available on our Web site.
But our Web site has blossomed in the hands of adept webmasters supported by a company of bright young people in Argentina who can take any request, shape and polish it, and insert it in just a few days. Now we have two virtual congresses, a reference text on tropical disease imaging, and soon a second reference text. Several other projects have started this year, including GoRad, our reference linkage of selected articles from a dozen leading journals around the world. We register those who want to participate in our virtual congresses. They can take the quizzes, get scored electronically, and finally receive continuing medical education credit. We have several thousand electronic subscribers from among our national society members. But the amazing reaction reflects the computer savvy and skills of radiologists in underdeveloped countries around the world. The other factor is that our material is available to anyone, and there is no expense reflected by increased interest.