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Discusses service quality as applied to professional practice, focusing on the radiotherapy department of a cancer hospital. Differentiates professional and managerial issues in service quality management in cancer care (and by extension, professional practice). Proposes that, professional practitioners must be supported with a “service surround” subject to quality assurance (QA) disciplines but that the “service core” is largely untouchable by externally‐imposed managerial quality systems outwith those already subscribed to through codes of professional practice. Suggests that the definition of service core and service surround needs to be negotiated.

For the past twenty‐five years or so, the writings of George Orwell — especially his final novel 1984 — have been a popular topic for student research. From junior high through graduate school, interest in Orwell has been consistent. Book reports, term papers, and even seminars on Orwell are common‐place in the national curriculum. Now, as the year 1984 arrives, librarians at all levels — public, school, academic — must brace themselves for a year‐long onslaught of requests for biographical and critical material on Orwell.

The group has continued to meet regularly since the publication of the last bulletin and has welcomed a number of new members and visitors from both home and overseas. Many members who joined at the beginning or very early on in the Group's history still attend regularly, but several long‐standing members have also left, or ceased active participation, in the period under review. Towards the end of 1972 Mr Wells relinquished the chairmanship of the Group, due to pressure of work, and his place was taken by Mr Mills. Another departure, and one that robbed the Group of one of its most active and forceful members, was that of Jason Farradane. He left the country in 1974, and the Group presented him with a book as a memento of many enjoyable and provocative discussions stimulated by his presence at the meetings which he unfailingly attended. It was with great pleasure that he was welcomed back to a meeting while he was visiting this country in January 1976.

ONCE more a New Year, after a year of dramatic public events, finds librarians as other people settling down to what it is hoped will be twelve months of peace and prosperity. It is really remarkable how libraries reflect the happenings of the time; it would not, for example, seem that the burning of the Crystal Palace would affect the issues of all South London libraries but it did very heavily for a day or two. When the public mind is occupied with an idea it is well known that this is reflected in reduced, and occasionally increased, issues. The Jubilee of King George V. reduced reference issues everywhere; and it is to be expected that the Coronation of King George VI. will have a like effect. These efforts however are transient, and are only felt during the few days of the happenings in question.. On the larger count we find at the beginning of 1937 that all but new libraries have now reached a position in which they can assess the results of other competition. It is alleged that the loss of readers who have seceded to the “twopennies” is about 4 per cent. on the peak year of 1932–3, but the gains are considerably in advance of 1930. That is to say, solid progress has been regular.

ONE or two questions raised by the writer of “Letters on our Affairs” this month are of some urgency. The first, the physical condition of books, is one that is long over‐due for full discussion with a view to complete revision of our method. The increased book fund of post‐war years, and the unexpected success of the twopenny library, have brought us to the point when we should concentrate upon beautiful and clean editions of good books, and encourage the public to use them. “Euripides” is quite right in his contention that there is too much dependence upon the outcasts of the circulating library for replenishing the stocks of public lending libraries. We say this gravely and advisedly. Many librarians depend almost entirely upon the off‐scourings of commercial libraries for their fiction. The result, of course, is contempt of that stock from all readers who are not without knowledge of books. It is the business of the public library now to scrap all books that are stained, unpleasant to the sight, in bad print, and otherwise unattractive. Of old, it was necessary for us to work hard, and by careful conservation of sometimes quite dirty books, in order to get enough books to serve our readers. To‐day this is no longer the case, except in quite backward areas. The average well‐supported public library—and there are many now in that category—should aim at a reduction of stock to proportions which are really useful, which are good and which are ultimately attractive if not beautiful. The time has arrived when a dirty book, or a poorly printed book, or a book which has no artistic appeal, should be regarded as a reproach to the library preserving it.

LIBRARIES have come impressively into the public picture in the past year or two, and seldom with more effect than when Their Majesties the King and Queen opened the new Central Reference Library at Manchester on July 17th. In a time, which is nearly the end of a great depression, that the city which probably felt the depression more than any in the Kingdom should have proceeded with the building of a vast store‐house of learning is a fact of great social significance and a happy augury for libraries as a whole. His Majesty the King has been most felicitous in providing what we may call “slogans” for libraries. It will be remembered that in connection with the opening of the National Central Library, he suggested that it was a “University which all may join and which none need ever leave” —words which should be written in imperishable letters upon that library and be printed upon its stationery for ever. As Mr. J. D. Stewart said at the annual meeting of the National Central Library, it was a slogan which every public library would like to appropriate. At Manchester, His Majesty gave us another. He said: “To our urban population open libraries are as essential to health of mind, as open spaces to health of body.” This will be at the disposal of all of us for use. It is a wonderful thing that Manchester in these times has been able to provide a building costing £450,000 embodying all that is modern and all that is attractive in the design of libraries. The architect, Mr. Vincent Harris, and the successive librarians, Mr. Jast and Mr. Nowell, are to be congratulated upon the crown of their work.

HIS MAJESTY THE KING is winning new admiration, if that were possible, as the speaker of words on libraries which are memorable. At the opening of the University Library at Cambridge on October 22nd, he described that great new library as “both a power house and a testing station of educational activities,” and went on to say, “It is a workshop of new knowledge and a store‐house of seasoned wisdom.” It is difficult to think of phrases which convey more fully the work and aspirations of a great national library. We cannot refrain from mentioning again the significant fact that within one year His Majesty has opened two libraries, which together have cost £1,000,000 to build. If any have doubts as to the national attitude towards the library movement, they will probably be resolved in favour of the future of libraries by thinking of this. Of course, the Manchester Public Library was built out of the sum accumulated from the sale of a previous central library, and we know that one half of the £500,000 spent at Cambridge came from the International Education Board; but in the first case, the good will of Mancunians was required for the spending on the library of this large sum of money, and in the second case, £229,000 was obtained by public subscription from friends of Cambridge. These are works of faith which must have a very great effect upon the future of education and culture of England. If they were alone, however, they would have been significant, but when we remember that Leeds University and the City of Sheffield have built great libraries, and even in smaller places such as Dover a new library has been established, while there are many new branch libraries at Birmingham, Bristol, and elsewhere, and renovations of older libraries, as at Coventry and Croydon, and Nottingham, we realise that in a time which is thought to be one of depression, the public library has made strides which are almost as great as those of the early Carnegie days.

In the last‐issued volume of his monumental History of the Novel, Dr. E. A. Baker remarks that librarians do not expect to be thanked for their services and then, characteristically, proceeds to thank some dozen or so. Whatever our expectations are, we are none the less appreciative when a writer does express his debt; it helps us, it justifies our work. Few tributes of late have been more graceful than this paid by Mr. J. D. Griffith Davies in his useful and attractive Honest George Monk, which has lately come from Mr. John Lane: “What I should do without the kindly help of my friend, R. J. Gordon, Librarian of the Leeds Public Libraries, I really don't know. Like some fairy godmother he produces for my use the rarest books; and his keen personal interest in all forms of research, and the unfailing courtesy of his colleagues, makes the Reference Library at Leeds one of the homeliest places for work.” It is worth while to compare the expression here with the words Mr. Berwick Sayers has written at the end of his preface to the 1937 edition of Brown's Manual.

Citation analysis for the purposes of this survey is taken to mean the analysis of the citations or references which form part of the scholarly apparatus of primary communication. It is not taken to include study of the references appearing in secondary (abstracting or indexing) services, in subject bibliographies, or in lists or catalogues of the holdings or issues of libraries, although analysis of these latter sources of data can sometimes provide similar information to that derived from citations in the primary literature. The essence of the distinction is that citation in the primary literature expressly states a connection between two documents, one which cites and the other which is cited, whereas citation in other listings does not usually imply any connection between documents other than that effected by the indexing machinery. If libraries kept records of the materials requested, borrowed, or read by their individual users, and if these records could be synthesised so as to produce complete borrowing or reading lists for individuals (taking account, that is, of document acquisition by individuals from a number of sources), then the resultant data could be used for analytical purposes in the same way as citation data from primary publication and with much the same justification.

IN October a well‐known literary periodical appeared for a single number in a bright‐red cover to signalise a certain change. Two months earlier we had altered our size, type and cover‐colour; for the last exchanging the decorous consistent grey of our outer garment for the summer yellow in which our two Conference numbers appeared. Some readers found this too gaudy, although the three colours which have most “attention value,” as the advertisement experts say, are yellow, red and Cambridge blue. We compromise on orange, which has warmth, and we hope will have welcome.