The process of assembling this 25th Anniversary issue has been a delightful one, a revisiting of old friends, kind and encouraging words from newer ones, and steps toward renewal at many levels. We hope to follow up this issue with other initiatives to facilitate further sharings. A wide net was cast for potential contributors: the founders of Crime and Social Justice, authors whose essays appeared in the initial issues or whose writings had a significant impact on early radical theory, as well as our Editorial Advisory Board, past Contributing Editors, and the current editorial staff. Broad latitude was given: we asked for short pieces in the form of memoirs, reflections, or critiques that would commemorate a quarter century of publishing Social Justice. Candid assessments of what has been accomplished (or not) in the intervening period in terms of the journal and a progressive agenda, as well as suggestions for future directions, were requested. The essays were to reflect the geographical diversity that has characterized the journal's contents from the beginning. Ultimately, we received 28 essays from authors in seven countries in North and South America, Europe, Africa, and the South Pacific. Our only disappointment was that a contribution from Asia fell through, and the response from generalists was scant compared to those whose expertise lies in state repression and crime. Moreover, a customary obstacle to progressive publishing arose: the NATO war in Kosovo caused the contribution from our Scandinavian friends to be abbreviated and compelled Noam Chomsky to graciously bow out under the weight of constant talks, interviews, and writing on the Balkans.

The order of articles is somewhat arbitrary -- alphabetical by author. So honest and personal are the pieces and compelling the content, the reader will equally benefit from randomly paging through the issue. For those seeking guideposts by subject area, however, there are in-depth essays on radical social theory and the legacy of critical criminology in Europe (Ian Taylor) and Latin America (Rosa del Olmo, with offerings also from James Petras and Ed McCaughan). Bernard Headley relates the excitement those critical currents of thought evoked in graduate students in the 1970s, not the least because such "radical" analysis offered the best explanation of and framework for understanding the crime problem that had so bedeviled black America. John Galliher critiques "administrative criminology," with its governmental funding and educational infrastructure, against which the new critical theories were pitted. Gilbert Geis expresses the value of -- and professional peril in -- taking critical forums seriously in such a context. Lynn Chancer and Elliott Currie provocatively explore the present and future of "radical criminology." Gregg Barak, for many years the journal's Book Review Editor, also proposes an agenda for the future, while pointing to the unique contribution made by Social Justice in calling for integrated transnational and global theories long before it was fashionable.

Sid Harring and Gerda Ray revisit the notion of policing a class society -- and apply the lessons of the 1970s to New York City in the 1990s. Al Pinkney's essay also reminds us how little progress has been made in realizing social justice from his vantage point in New York. The early days of the prison movement and Bay Area progressive politics are covered by Karleen Faith, and Bob Weiss reflects on the Attica rebellion (see also Chancer and Taylor on penal trends). Other essays zoom in on the past: Herman and Julia Schwendinger recall the formation of the initial Crime and Social Collective and the making of the first issue of the journal in 1974. Marie Bertrand acknowledges the important contribution made by Issues in Criminology before its merger with our journal, and especially its role in fostering feminist theoretical approaches. A fascinating interview with Paul Takagi chronicles his experiences of growing up as a Japanese-American boy in a hostile environment, his search for community, and the thinking behind his path-breaking work on prisons and the police use of deadly force. Anthony M. Platt gives us a bittersweet recollection of his political engagement during this period, but leaves us with a positive sense of the possibilities of renewal, both personally and politically. Suzie Dod Thomas offers an insider's view of working on the journal all these years, and Gregory Shank unearths a time capsule that reveals what was happening in 1974 in terms of the political-economic conditions and social movements that propelled the unlikely emergence of a radical criminology around the world.

John Clarke's essay, datelined post-imperial England, in his words a backwater constantly on the verge of falling off the edge of Europe, generously credits our journal's editors and contributors with maintaining a consistent view of conflict as a central dynamic, driving social, political, and economic change (and not always in progressive directions) and for its capacity to engage with the shifting forms, focal points, mobilizations, and collective identities that have provided the substance of anti-oppressive struggles in the late 20th century. South Africa's Keyan Tomaselli, who met our staff in the 1980s (including the editors of Contemporary Marxism before it merged with Crime and Social Justice to become Social Justice), acknowledges the journal's enduring support for the anti-apartheid struggle and notes that many contributors to our latest issue on South Africa have gone on to make significant contributions at the national level with regard to policy and development issues. That is a truly remarkable accomplishment. As New Zealand's David Williams notes, it is also amazing, in a world of capitalist triumphalism (since the fall of the Stalinist governments of Eastern Europe) that the Social Justice banner still flies. His experiences with African socialism in Tanzania and Maori struggles in New Zealand leave him with few illusions about the prospects for progressive social change. Pat O'Malley's essay is a somber reflection on the fate of "social justice" as a notion in a world shaped by "the death of the social." He believes Social Justice has served to keep that notion of justice alive, has helped to reconfigure social justice (via Marx, Foucault, and others), and has combated a U.S. and Anglo-centric vision of politics because of the prominence of its "Americas perspective." Andre Gunder Frank explores the global processes, structures, and institutions that seem to generate the greatest injustice and raises questions such as whether injustice is even more rampant on the private, interpersonal level (e.g., domestic violence, abuse, oppression, and exploitation) than at the relatively more institutionally and legally protected social level. He cautions against the belief any existing or potentially imaginary "system" can offer, much less guarantee, justice -- whether social or private -- for ensuring social justice is and will be an ongoing process. For Tim Wise, it is inherently satisfying to choose to resist, rather than collaborate with, injustice, to know that you did all you could to stop a war, eliminate racism, or improve your community. The threat of a good example, the mixing of scholarship with activism, the combination of intellect and commitment, is also inherently seditious.

We are encouraged that so many have expressed the optimistic wish to contribute to our 50th Anniversary issue. To them, to the contributors who have made this journal unique and worth reading for 25 years, and to all the people who have given their unqualified financial support over the years, we extend our heartfelt thanks.

-- G.S.