This month, we’re proud to share with you a massive project that catalogs and contextualizes more than five dozen important research papers that, collectively, helped to build the framework of eye care as it’s practiced today. To call it an “article” wouldn’t quite do it justice, and it would misrepresent our intentions. Weighing in at 14,000 words and 19 pages, this sprawling work, called “The Clinical Trials That Changed Eye Care,” is not meant to be read in one sitting, though I would admire any OD who’s game for such a marathon. Rather, we created it as a resource you can turn to periodically for answers to dozens of clinical questions. Things like:

  • Is it risky to use a topical steroid in an ulcer patient? (SCUT has the answer.)
  • Should you prescribe a glaucoma drug purely based on high intraocular pressure? (Check OHTS.)
  • When should patching be considered in a child with amblyopia? (ATS has plenty to say about that.)

This guide is the latest installment of a series on the role of medical research that we began in September. That month, Andrew Pucker laid out the basic terminology and principles of scientific research. In October, Andrew Gurwood and Stanley Hatch explained how to skeptically evaluate the claims put forth in a research paper instead of taking it in uncritically. This month we shift gears, delving deep into the world of applied science. For several months, we interviewed over 20 optometric experts on more than 60 different clinical research trials—some dating back to the early 1990s, others released mere weeks ago. 

Why bother, you may ask, in a world where anyone can look up study results and ChatGPT can effortlessly spit out a plausible summary? I think that’s exactly why we did bother. Artificial intelligence will surely improve diagnostic methods one day, but as a mentor and educator, all it can do is churn out bland summaries of other people’s work. Genuine intelligence, acquired through years of real-world experience mixed with the distinctly human intellectual traits of imagination and synthesis, is always more valuable than the artificial kind.

Collecting the insights of various experts (who don’t always agree) also fits the spirit of scientific inquiry itself. The most famous articulation of this is Isaac Newton’s humble self-assessment: “If I have seen further, it is by standing on the shoulders of giants.” He wrote this in a letter to a rival as a way of acknowledging the other scientist’s contribution to his own thinking, which built upon it. It’s a key tenet of science: knowledge progresses incrementally, and benefits from scrutiny and refinement.

 It may seem silly to call a 14,000-word article “incomplete,” but that sense of continual improvement is also why I see this research guide as inherently unfinished. We will invite still more ODs to comment on and challenge our summaries, and we’ll keep adding to it as often as possible when new research emerges. Bookmark the online version, as it will undergo regular updates and expansion into new topics.

For now, though, I’d like to thank the experts who shared their insights on all manner of clinical questions to bring this guide to life—giants, one and all.