Editorial

I was the Review Editor of the Journal of Language and Social Psychology from its inception in 1980 to 1993, at which time I took over at the JMMD. I had become Associate Editor of JMMD in 1991, working in tandem with Derrick Sharp, its founding editor, until his retirement two years later. At the time, both journals were published by Multilingual Matters, then based in Clevedon. (Now, of course, JLSP is a Sage publication, and JMMD is part of the large Routledge stable of journals.) In the 1991 editorial (in 12:3) that introduced me to the readership, Derrick noted that, from the beginning, JMMD was meant to be a wide-ranging journal; indeed, its remit was even broader than its current emphasis on macro-level work in the sociology of language and related fields. In words that remain very pertinent today, he wrote that ‘our concern always is that the approach should be academic in its rigour and objectivity, for we cover areas in which it is understandably tempting for emotion to determine response and even judgment.’ By the time I composed my own editorial note (published in 1993, 14:1/2), I was able to say that JMMD had become ‘a widely read and cited journal with a distinguished editorial board and list of authors.’ I also reiterated Derrick’s points, noting that ‘information without rigour... is possibly even worse than rigour without information’, and calling attention to our encouragement of ‘articles which cross disciplinary boundaries, which are grounded in historical and contemporary context, and which are comparative.’ The role of journal editors is a custodial one, and their value to the larger community – readers, contributors, reviewers and publishers – lies just as much in keeping out inadequate material as it does in promoting and accepting what is worthwhile. This dual function is particularly marked with a publication like JMMD, whose scholarly and disciplinary mandate is an expansive one. Like most journals, it receives many more articles than can possibly be published, and editorial discretion here is rather greater than some may imagine. Most submissions, of course, go out to expert referees for assessment – two at a minimum, but quite often three, or even four – and these scholars are, in effect, editorial advisors. Still, it is the editor who must select and invite them. Some submissions fall at the first hurdle, and will be rejected without being sent to external assessors. This is usually on the grounds of substantive deficiency, of course, but papers can also be turned down for lack of originality, or because of significant problems with format, style and grammar. As well, due to lack of attention or plain disregard, authors often send in material that is simply inappropriate. Editorial decisions here are rather more lonely ones, and, while they may be made quite quickly in some instances, other cases can involve prolonged deliberation. Nonetheless, were every submission sent out for review, the already constricted system of peer evaluation – heavily dependent, after all, upon collegiality – would seise up ever more tightly. The willingness to comment upon submissions would rapidly evaporate if referees were sent material considered to waste their time and energy. Finally – and regardless of reviewers’ reports – it is the editorial thumb that must ultimately turn up or down. While this decision is most commonly guided very closely by comments received, editors will on occasion find themselves overruling external opinions, negative or positive.