For decades, we have talked about cancer as a war to be won. Patients are told to fight, to battle, to beat the disease. In oncology, this language is so deeply embedded that we rarely stop to question it.
Yet words do more than describe our experiences. Alongside medical therapies, they can shape how patients understand their illness, what they expect from treatment, and how they experience care.
After more than twenty years in oncology, first as a physician and now also as a drug developer, I believe describing cancer care as a battle fails to capture the full spectrum of the patient experience. Treating cancer certainly requires determination, and we must be ambitious about developing effective therapeutics. But we also have an opportunity, as a community, to embrace a more holistic understanding of cancer care, one that recognizes the complexity of each patient’s experience and the possibilities modern medicine can offer.
As physicians, we must ask what patients hope treatment will make possible and what trade-offs they are willing to accept. We bring clinical evidence and knowledge of available options. Patients bring an understanding of their own lives that we can never replicate. Good care depends on both. That’s a partnership, not a fight.
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Patients may describe their experience in combative terms because this language is deeply ingrained in cancer care. But an outcome is not a measure of how hard someone fought, how positive they remained, or how determined they were. Biology, treatment response, and factors beyond an individual’s control shape outcomes. Our language should reflect that reality, and clinicians should listen to how each person describes what matters most to them.
When patients describe what they hope treatment will make possible, the focus is often much more personal. They want to be present for their child’s wedding, welcome a grandchild, or have more time with the people they love. These hopes are not about fighting and winning a battle, and those priorities are not secondary to treatment. They reflect the life patients want to pursue and the people with whom they want to share it. Ultimately, these priorities are at the core of medicine and the work we do.
Science has evolved and our approach should, too
The language of warfare has deep historical roots in oncology. Research into nitrogen mustard, a chemical warfare agent, helped inform the development of early chemotherapy after researchers observed its effects on blood-forming cells. The blunt language of attacking and destroying cancer became central to how new treatment was discussed and understood.
Since then, our understanding of cancer biology has advanced considerably. We have learned more about the mechanisms driving disease and developed new ways to intervene. We can recognize the urgency of treating cancer without describing care as a battle between the body and the disease.
Moving beyond these combative metaphors allows us to embrace a more comprehensive vision of cancer treatment, one that considers both how effectively we target the disease and how our interventions affect the person living with it. Increasingly precise therapies offer opportunities to better balance efficacy, safety, and tolerability, recognizing that patients may weigh these benefits and trade-offs differently. This is not about softer science or lower expectations, but about expanding our ambition beyond simply attacking the disease to delivering care that enables patients to pursue what matters most in their lives.
Rethinking the language of cancer also invites us to reconsider how we define success, not only in treating patients, but in advancing the science itself. Progress is not measured solely by individual breakthroughs or achievements. It is also reflected in the knowledge we build together, the trust patients place in us, and the possibilities we create for those who come after them.
Throughout my career, I have been struck by patients who willingly contribute blood and tissue samples or participate in clinical trials, often knowing that the knowledge gained may benefit someone else rather than themselves. They entrust us with something deeply personal and sacred: not just their bodies and lives, but their hopes for themselves and for the future. For biotechnology companies, what we call a pipeline may represent a lifeline to patients and their families, offering the possibility of more time, new options when existing treatments have fallen short, or a future breakthrough for others. That trust and generosity carries a profound responsibility and reminds us that medical progress is not a competition, even among companies developing new treatments. It is something we advance together, with humility and respect for the people who make it possible.
This is true across the hundreds of cancers including rare subtypes. As we mark World MDS Day, this matters in a particularly tangible way. Myelodysplastic syndromes (MDS), a group of blood disorders that can significantly affect health and daily life, have seen limited treatment innovation over the past two decades. For people living with MDS, advances in our understanding of the underlying biology are opening new possibilities for developing treatments that could meaningfully change the course of their disease.
As physicians and drug developers, while we cannot promise every patient a particular outcome, we can commit to following the science, exploring new possibilities with urgency, and ensuring patients and their physicians have meaningful options to consider.
Patients do not need to win a personal war to deserve good care or benefit from treatment. They need evidence, new and better treatment options, and clinicians willing to work alongside them to navigate whatever comes next.
Aleksandra Filipovic is a practicing medical oncologist and chief medical officer at Gallop Oncology. She has more than twenty years of experience in clinical oncology. She previously held roles at Bristol Myers Squibb and AstraZeneca, is a faculty member at the European School of Oncology, and was formerly a postdoctoral fellow at Imperial College London.
