An unexpected misconduct is reported here

What I have to say:

The Reviewer Who Wasn't There

A Public Challenge to the Journal of Mathematical Chemistry
In the span of a few days, I received two rejection letters from the Journal of Mathematical Chemistry.
The first rejection cited the opinion of:
"one of our respected reviewers"
The second rejection cited the opinion of:
"a well-respected reviewer"
As a scientist, I find myself asking a very simple question:
Who are these people?
Not their names.
Not their institutions.
Not their identities.
Only this:
Were there really two independent reviewers?
I do not know.
What I do know is what appears in the written record available to me.
And what appears there leaves me unconvinced.
Not unconvinced about my manuscripts.
Unconvinced about the process.

Two Reviews, One Voice?
In the first case, a manuscript on graphene nanoribbons was criticized for allegedly dealing with molecular properties and chemical reactions in a manner deemed unsuitable for the journal.
My opinion is simple:
The criticism appeared disconnected from the actual content of the manuscript.
The manuscript did not study chemical reactions.
Yet chemical reactions were presented as a central reason for rejection.
That is difficult for me to understand.

In the second case, a manuscript on the discrimination of benzenoid graphs was rejected on the basis that molecular graphs contain too little information to represent molecules adequately.
Again, I was puzzled.
The manuscript's objective was not to demonstrate that molecular graphs contain all possible chemical information.
Its objective was to study the discriminatory power of graph-theoretical descriptors.
The criticism appeared directed not at the manuscript itself, but at the entire methodological foundation upon which it was built.

Then came the editor's response.
Professor Paul Mezey explained at length why molecular graph representations are, in his opinion, fundamentally limited, simplistic, and largely surpassed by more advanced approaches.
That is, of course, his right.
But as I read the correspondence, I could not avoid a particular impression.
The reviewer criticized molecular graph theory.
The editor criticized molecular graph theory.
The reviewer considered the approach simplistic.
The editor explained why it was simplistic.
The reviewer rejected the manuscript.
The editor agreed.
At some point, at least from the perspective of an outside observer, the distinction between reviewer opinion and editorial doctrine becomes increasingly difficult to identify.
That is an opinion.
It is my opinion.
And it is based entirely on the documents themselves.

The Real Issue
The issue is not rejection.
Manuscripts are rejected every day.
Many of mine have been rejected.
That is how science works.
The issue is something else.
The issue is whether the manuscripts were evaluated primarily on their contents or primarily on the intellectual tradition to which they belong.
Professor Mezey's response was striking because it did not focus on mathematical errors.
It did not identify false theorems.
It did not identify computational mistakes.
It did not identify incorrect conclusions.
Instead, it presented what I perceive to be a broad philosophical criticism of molecular graph theory as a scientific field.
That observation leads me to ask:
Were my manuscripts rejected because of what they proved?
Or because of what they represented?
Those are very different questions.

Following the Argument to Its Logical Conclusion
Let us assume, for the sake of argument, that the editor's position is correct.
Let us assume that molecular graph theory is indeed an inherently weak and fundamentally limited representation of molecular reality.
What follows?
What becomes of the work of Wiener?
Of Harary?
Of Hosoya?
Of Balaban?
Of Trinajstić?
Of Randić?
Of Gutman?
What becomes of decades of mathematical chemistry built upon graph-theoretical foundations?
Should we regard this enormous scientific literature as little more than an extended historical detour?
Should we conclude that generations of researchers spent their careers refining fundamentally inadequate concepts?
Should we quietly rewrite the intellectual history of mathematical chemistry?
I am not prepared to do that.
Not without a fight.

Why This Matters
Some readers may wonder why this discussion deserves public attention.
After all, disagreements between authors, reviewers, and editors are common.
That is true.
But this issue extends beyond a single manuscript.
Imagine a journal devoted to quantum chemistry whose editor publicly argued that quantum chemistry is a primitive and inadequate approach to molecular science.
Imagine further that manuscripts based on quantum chemistry were repeatedly rejected for reasons ultimately traceable to that philosophical position.
Authors would reasonably begin to question whether their work was being evaluated on its merits.
That is precisely the concern I have here.
My concern is not that someone disagreed with my results.
My concern is that the correspondence creates the impression that molecular graph theory itself has already been judged and found wanting.
If that impression is incorrect, the journal has every opportunity to say so.
If that impression is correct, authors deserve to know it before they submit.
Either way, transparency would benefit everyone.

A Curious Standard
When authors submit manuscripts, journals demand evidence.
Claims require proof.
Methods require justification.
Results require validation.
Everything must be documented.
Everything must be reproducible.
Yet the moment peer review becomes the subject of discussion, evidence suddenly becomes difficult to find.
A reviewer may misunderstand a manuscript.
A reviewer may criticize a field rather than a result.
A reviewer may reject a methodology before examining the conclusions.
Perhaps none of those things happened here.
Perhaps all evaluations were entirely fair.
The problem is that authors are expected to take that on trust alone.
The journal tells us that respected reviewers exist.
Very well.
I am willing to accept that possibility.
But respect is not evidence.
And anonymity is not evidence.
Confidence requires something more.

The Simple Challenge
Therefore I issue a public challenge.
Not to anonymous reviewers.
Not even to Professor Mezey.
But to the Journal of Mathematical Chemistry itself.
Demonstrate that independent peer review occurred.
Not names.
Not identities.
Not confidential information.
Only evidence that a genuine independent evaluation process took place.
A timestamp.
An audit trail.
A review record.
A documented sequence of events.
Any objective indication that the manuscripts were evaluated independently and on their own merits.
Modern editorial systems record every action.
Invitations.
Acceptances.
Recommendations.
Decisions.
Dates.
Times.
Electronic systems leave electronic traces.
My opinion is simple:
If the process was rigorous, independent, and fair, demonstrating that fact should not be difficult.

The Burden of Proof
I am not asserting misconduct as an established fact.
I am not asserting fraud as an established fact.
I am not asserting that reviewers did not exist.
Those are claims I cannot prove.
What I am asserting is something far more modest.
The documentation available to me does not inspire confidence.
The available record raises questions that remain unanswered.
And confidence, unlike authority, must be earned.
I also reject the idea that authors should be expected to publish unpublished manuscripts merely to demonstrate the inadequacy of a review process.
The burden of proving the integrity of peer review belongs to the journal, not to the rejected author.
The rejection letters are public.
The editor's response is public.
My concerns are public.
The peer-review record remains private.
That asymmetry is precisely why these questions exist.

Conclusion
This is not a request for sympathy.
It is not an appeal.
It is not an attempt to reverse editorial decisions.
Those decisions have already been made.
This is a public expression of doubt.
A public statement that, based on the documents available to me, I remain unconvinced that the process functioned as it is described.
Perhaps I am wrong.
If so, the evidence presumably exists.
The journal possesses it.
Not me.
Until that evidence appears, readers are free to reach their own conclusions.

Prof. Lorentz Jäntschi
Technical University of Cluj-Napoca, Romania

"I am not prepared to press delete on the work of generations of mathematical chemists. Not without a fight."