From the Archive: Patients-as-Syndromes in Internal Medicine

In our “From the Archive” series, we highlight an article from a past issue of the journal. In this installment, we explore Robert A. Hahn’s piece “‘Treat the patient, not the lab’: Internal medicine and the concept of ‘Person,'” available in full here. This article was featured in Volume 6, Issue 3 (September 1982.)


cards

Throughout the history of the journal, our authors have turned the same anthropological gaze equally onto both biomedicine and other medical systems. As Hahn introduces this article, he states that the healer in all cultural contexts fashions medical and social truths together, such that the patient and patient body are reinterpreted (and potentially reordered) through medical treatment by the healer. Biomedicine, he states, also recasts illness in ways that alter the medical position of the patient. To understand how physicians of biomedicine engage with patients conceptually in this way, Hahn conducted an ethnographic study of four internists. As internal medicine is often characterized as highly rationalistic and thus emblematic of biomedical practice, Hahn argues, he states that understanding the internists’ perspectives may shed light more broadly on biomedicine as a particular method of envisioning illness and its relationship to the patient.

Hahn begins by positing that the nature of internal medicine as a profession itself is a form of interpretation of what constitutes the patient and body over which it has medical purview. Internal medicine does not focus on mental health (psychiatry) or on the internal visceral body (surgery.) Thus, the “body” it treats exists in relative isolation from the mind, yet is not a physical or functional body such as the one manipulated directly through surgery. The conditions internists treat exist apart from the person and, to a degree, from the patient’s body: instead, the internist focuses on internal diseases and pathologies that become entities of treatment divorced from the individual receiving care. These illnesses– forged into concrete ontological “things”– are countered with similarly material antidotes. Hahn adds that the prestigious status of the internist in the culture of clinical practice, both currently and historically, lends this physiologically-based view of the body and its treatment significant legitimacy in the biomedical landscape.

To demonstrate these concepts, Hahn presents the case of internist Dr. Barry Siegler. “Barry,” as he comes to be called, repeatedly instructs his residents and other clinicians to be wary of individual metrics and lab results, as these single numbers and tests cannot be incrementally fixed: rather, he contends, they must be examined and addressed in concert such that the whole patient is successfully treated. Hahn describes this as relational knowledge of pathology, rather than “singly” reading and responding to individual metrics. However, Barry does not mean to champion holistic, person-centered care: instead, he posits that the entire patient should serve as the point of focus such that no aspect of the patient’s pathology is excluded from diagnosis and subsequent treatment. For example, Barry argues that the patient interview is a tool for the extraction of cues that would lead the clinician to better understand the etiology and symptomatology at hand.

Thus the patient’s “syndrome” comes to exist as a materially and ontologically “real” entity that is distinct from the social, personal, and existential contexts of the patient’s life. This perspective is crystallized in Barry’s tendency to refer to patients as their diseases, such as “a conversion reaction.” He also refers to patients he believes to have mental illness in the same manner, such as the “neurotic,” although he admits that psychiatric pathologies are a “Pandora’s box” beyond the limits of his professional power to address. Again, the patient as a person (and even as a subject or individual mind) fades as the disease pathologies that characterize their illness are reified and made the central objects of the internist’s medical gaze. Due to the close alignment between physiology and organic sciences (chemistry and biology), Hahn notes that the internist’s ontological transformation of the patient into their pathologies– and the pathologies into discrete objects of attention– are deemed especially real, true, and justifiable. Likewise, the body itself is interpreted as a closed, contained system that becomes the object of internal medicine: the ‘whole patient’ is instead the ‘whole pathophysiology.’

Hahn concludes that this vision of the body is decidedly Western: it individualizes the body, and makes a Cartesian division between the body (physical) and the mind (psychological, social) such that it is made treatable and conceptually readable by internists who isolate it from other contexts and who distinguish diseases as concrete, material things. The article ultimately suggests that certain biomedical visions of the body and appropriate patterns for treatment may not align with the perspectives of patients, who understand their illness within the social, spiritual, cultural, and other frameworks that structure their daily lives.

 

Books for Review: Vol 40 Issue 3, Sept 2016

In our September 2016 issue, we received these books for review at the journal. The new releases span social science methods, to two ethnographies of biomedicine and human plasticity (available here and here), and finally, two texts on organ transplantation across cultural contexts. This includes Heinemann’s Transplanting Care and Crowley-Matoka’s Domesticating Organ Transplant.

Last year, we featured a book release update on Crowley-Matoka’s work on organ transplantation in Mexico. Here, we revisit the original book release (accessible here.)


Screen Shot 2015-11-04 at 3.45.07 PM

Image via Duke UP

Released this March 2016 from Duke University Press is Megan Crowley-Matoka’s Domesticating Organ Transplant: Familial Sacrifice and National Aspiration in Mexico. The text explores the familial nature of kidney transplantation in Mexico, where the organs are donated between relatives rather than received by strangers. Crowley-Matoka also examines kidney transplant in Mexico beyond the family unit, assessing national pride in transplantation procedures performed at hospitals operated by the state. Through family and government, organ transplantation thus becomes an iconic procedure in Mexican society– both within the home and across the nation– that represents the curative promise of contemporary medicine. Crowley-Matoka’s ethnography highlights the relationships between embodied experience, domestic life, national identity, and clinical practice. This text will appeal widely to scholars who study biomedicine in the Americas, the connections between medicine and the state, and familial networks of caregiving.

About the author: Megan Crowley-Matoka is Assistant Professor of Medical Humanities and Bioethics at Northwestern University. You can access more details about her upcoming book here.

Issue Highlight Vol 40 Issue 3: Asperger’s Syndrome, Subjectivity and the Senses

This week, we will highlight an Illness Narrative from the September 2016 issue of the journal (available here). Here we feature Ellen Badone, David Nicholas, Wendy Roberts, and Peter Kien’s article “Asperger’s Syndrome, Subjectivity and the Senses.” To read the full article, click here.


cards

As previous blog highlights suggest, the intersections of research and illness narratives are important to an anthropological perspective on subjectivity and experience. Badone and colleagues situate their article within narrative phenomenology. They discuss how constructing an illness narrative gives patients and families hope, and frames their experiences in a positive direction. The personal narrative, then, allows individuals to express their agency in hostile structural and environmental settings. The narrative also serves as a valuable first-hand account from which medical anthropologists can learn more about the subjective experience of illness.

The authors perform a close reading of an autobiographical narrative recounted by Peter, a young man diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome, a type of autism spectrum disorder (ASD.) Badone and colleagues aim to describe Peter’s case to widen understandings of the lived experience of people with autism. Responding to Olga Solomon’s 2010 article “Sense and the Senses: Anthropology and the Study of Autism,” this paper calls into question key assumptions in the clinical and popular literature about ASD relating to theory of mind, empathy, capacity for metaphorical thinking, and ASD as a life-long condition.

Badone and colleagues begin with a brief history of the diagnostic label of ASD, then describe the ethnographic-autobiographical process. Peter, the pseudonym chosen by the young man whose story is told in this article, reflects on his life experiences and articulates his awareness of autism and its impact on his life. An important recognition that Peter makes is that he senses many of the places he encountered were characterized by the “opposite of accommodation.” In the context of his elementary and high school for example, Peter describes how his need for calm and respite were disregarded in the noisy, abrasive environments. But it is Peter’s mother who is his metaphorical, and social, link to the world he felt dislocated from. Peter describes how it was his mother’s love and guidance which kept him alive and motivated to improve his life.

As Peter continues to narrate his experiences, however, he begins to intentionally seek out interactions in unwelcoming social environments. To Badone, Peter’s later decisions to submerse himself in activities that he found difficult, such as unexpected social situations and interactions, was an unconscious therapeutic response. This response mirrored the principles of cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT). To Badone’s astonishment, Peter had unintentionally started a treatment regimen to gradually lessen his anxiety, decrease his “meltdowns,” and become more independent. But to do so, Peter had to alter his own connection to a social environment that initially felt closed to him.

Badone and colleagues conclude, upon analyzing Peter’s narrative, that quality of life improves when individuals with autism are allowed to flourish in a social milieu of acceptance and understanding. Through the narrative, and through phenomenological examination of moments in Peter’s life, Badone and Peter hope to foster understanding and to urge others to create inclusive communities where social interaction is supported and individuals are not made to feel unwelcome. They seek to make autism more coherent to the non-autistic world and thereby to promote the larger ethical goal of creating flexible communities open to accommodating neurodiversity.

Issue Highlight Vol 40 Issue 3: Contradictory Notions of Violence and Trauma in the Military

This is the second post in a series of article highlights from our new September 2016 issue, available here. In this installment, we explore Tine Molendijk, Eric-Hans Kramer, and Désirée Verweij’s article “Conflicting Notions on Violence and PTSD in the Military: Institutional and Personal Narratives of Combat-Related Illness.” To read the full article, click here.


cards

Molendijk, Kramer, and Verweij observe that contemporary quantitative research reports that members of the military tend to underuse mental health services, most notably for PTSD. The reports note that soldiers’ beliefs about these services may be hindering utilization: however, existing studies have not specifically identified the beliefs or cultural factors that lead to under-utilization. Through a qualitative analysis of the literature, the authors argue that existing mental health interventions carry contradictory statements about violence and PTSD that may be casting particular social and moral frames onto mental illness. These interventions thus situate PTSD within a pre-figured framework, rather than presenting PTSD and trauma in a manner that individualizes and “decontextualizes” its presentation amongst members of the military: whose personal narratives also offer a distinct perspective on the experience of PTSD. The study focuses on PTSD and its treatment namely amongst the US, UK, and Dutch contexts.

To begin, the authors state that the diagnostic category of PTSD per the DSMV (and its implementation in practice) itself imposes a particular cadence on the disorder, stipulating that it emerges in response to an isolated or otherwise triggering single event, rather than to a diffuse string of violent occurrences or social disruptions. The diagnosis also pathologizes the degree of transition between military and civilian life which, to some degree, must and does occur for all soldiers. “The current mainstream PTSD-concept, with its focus on trauma exposure and individual susceptibilities,” the authors argue, “frames PTSD as the response of an individual to an event,” rather than an individual to a series of events, or many people to a range of traumas.

Beyond the diagnostic category, the “infrastructure” surrounding PTSD and its treatment in the military also impacts the way the illness is conceived and given meaning. The authors “divided the PTSD-infrastructure into five categories: pre-enlistment screening, basic training programs, counseling during deployment and pre- and post-deployment psycho-education, post-deployment screening through a survey and a meeting, and therapy.” In the earliest stages, potential military recruits are screened for existing mental illness, while those who pass screening are then subjected to psychological conditioning in their training intended to bolster soldiers’ emotional and psychological fortitude against combat scenarios. Throughout and after deployment, soldiers are also counseled and receive mental health guidance intended to ease adjustments between the “battlemind” state and the “civilian” mindset. These numerous institutional mechanisms indicate that the military infrastructure situates PTSD as a dysfunctional “deviation” from the ‘functional’ “battlemind,” rather than a natural response to trauma. Thus PTSD is cast as the failure of an individual to integrate and compartmentalize a traumatic event within the mental frameworks for coping that they have already been given, even though the military has already anticipated trauma and attempted to prepare soldiers in the event of psychological disturbance.

From the personal perspective of soldiers, however, the experience of PTSD is presented in a different but equally conflicting light. The authors note that soldiers are expected to psychologically identify and process traumatic events, but are also instructed to resist considering the emotional impact of these events: thereby cognitively preventing them from narrating, contextualizing, and giving meaning to traumatic instances. Furthermore, as violence is a routine aspect of military labor, responses to it are not necessarily “exceptional.” Entire squads may experience the same trauma, although they may not all be later diagnosed with PTSD, or share the belief that mental health care is appropriate for overcoming psychological trauma. Indeed, in military culture, many soldiers may not perceive violence as a trigger, but– as noted earlier– an expected and normal part of daily work. Additionally, acts of military violence may not be perceived as traumatic if they are viewed as necessary, just, or appropriate. Amongst soldiers themselves, PTSD therefore carries conflicting and multiple meanings. The authors summarize that “soldiers have learned that exposure to violence can harm a soldier, and that PTSD-like symptoms are not unusual. However, at the same time, they have learned that violence and stress are inherent to a soldier’s job, and that ‘good soldiers’ should be able to deal with it.” Soldiers who struggle with trauma, therefore, are given resources to address it, but may suspect that it is normal and does not (or should not) require medical intervention. Thus both the institution and the nature of the profession generate conflicting messages about the etiology and treatment of PTSD amongst soldiers.

To some degree, the authors remark, the transition from active deployment (and its related trauma or exposure to violence) to civilian life contains unavoidable contradictions, as the psychological mindset needed for combat versus the mindset for civilian life differ greatly, and the adjustments between them may be difficult. However, the contradictions within the institutional narrative of PTSD– that it is dysfunctional, yet expected, and provided with interventions–may be preventing soldiers from understanding whether or not their response to violence requires treatment, or if seeking help is a stigmatized act. Ultimately, the authors conclude, “the [existing institutional] PTSD-narrative can give soldiers the feeling that important elements of their problems are not taken into account, or that they are translated into an individual problem. If so, soldiers then hear no narrative through which they can understand and articulate their experiences and potential inner struggles about the meaning of these experiences.” The authors’ findings therefore indicate that there are significant and potentially problematic conceptual rifts in the understanding of PTSD between soldiers and institutions, and amongst soldiers acting within the military infrastructure.

 

 

Issue Highlight Vol 40 Issue 3: The Mental Health Treatment Gap Across Africa

In the coming weeks, we will be presenting special highlights of our latest installment of the journal, released September 2016 (accessible here.) This week, we explore Sara Cooper’s article “‘How I Floated on Gentle Webs of Being’: Psychiatrists’ Stories About the Mental Health Treatment Gap in Africa.” The full article is available here.


cards3

As Cooper notes in the outset of her article, clinicians and global health workers have identified a “gap” in available mental health services in Africa, and developed programs targeted at the resolution of lacking mental health services across the continent. Despite widespread attempts to research and resolve this gap, however, there remains concern about the problems that arise when a global, top-down approach to mental health services is applied in African contexts. Responding to this concern, Cooper sought out views on the treatment gap at the local level, specifically amongst African psychiatrists. Cooper gathered and analyzed narratives from twenty-eight psychiatrists from South Africa, Uganda, Nigeria, and Ethiopia. She found that while a biomedical, rationalistic narrative about the gap was certainly present, another, more phenomenological understanding of the “gap” emerged from the narratives of three of her participants, which urged a more sensitive approach to the implementation of mental health services in Africa.

Cooper first found that some of the psychiatrists in her study repeatedly turned to a dominant (or master) biomedical narrative to explain why the mental health treatment gap existed in their respective countries. In other words, the psychiatrists relied on a rationalistic, deductive, and material explanation that accounted for the mental health treatment landscapes across Africa. For instance, many of the psychiatrists argued that the lack of physical resources– hospitals, beds, clinicians to staff treatment centers– led patients to seek out non-biomedical interventions like prayer-based or spiritual-based care. The participants agreed that if there were enough services available, patients would not turn to complementary or religious forms of treatment. In their perspective, alternative forms of care were a substitute for biomedicine, rather than a legitimate venue for patients to seek mental health assistance in the absence of (or even alongside) biomedical resources.

Indeed, the act of seeking out these alternative treatments was viewed by the psychiatrists as a rational response: one borne out of the creativity of patients who weighed available options and selected the most appropriate, present service (rather than a complex response to a pluralism of local medical systems.) Conversely, however, the psychiatrists also argued that patients underutilized health services and lacked “mental health literacy,” or the knowledge needed to preface the choice to seek out biomedical assistance. Through these examples, and others, Cooper observes that this sub-cohort of psychiatrists tended to return to a rationalistic understanding of medical treatment that may not always have been sensitive to other means of medical decision-making or to the scope of biomedical interventions.

Yet Cooper also discovered that there were notable fractures in the biomedical “master narrative,” wherein psychiatrists’ narratives reveal concerns about the role of biomedical mental health services in addressing treatment gaps. Three psychiatrists admitted that biomedicine might not necessarily address the full scope of a patient’s mental illness or health concerns in the broader context of their lives or personal needs. For example, these three participants noted that the psychiatrist might have to explain that available treatments could potentially fail to fully resolve a patient’s complaint, or that they might have to accept that a patient’s past traumas, or troubling social circumstances, were beyond that which the psychiatrist could ameliorate through medical means. Here, the treatment “gap” is conceptual: the ideological place where a patient’s hopes, experiences, and expectations about their care may not be perfectly matched to the psychiatrist’s available treatments and medical diagnoses.

In this sub-cohort, one psychiatrist remarked that the “paternalistic” method of biomedical treatment could be unproductive, as the clinician may not be able to fully mend the patient’s health due to the social, personal, and individual complexities of the patient case. Another psychiatrist recounted a patient’s case in detail, noting that while he believed this person suffered from delusions, it was his responsibility to help the patient by trying to understand his view of reality, suffering, and personal struggle. Yet another psychiatrist recounted equally challenging cases, where they recognized that patients often were not satisfied with simply a cleanly-defined diagnosis or treatment plan, but required a more robust means of reordering and improving their lives with the psychiatrist’s guidance.

Cooper states that “for these psychiatrists, in taking people’s experiences and meanings seriously, on their own terms, one comes to appreciate that their understandings and behaviours are deeply complex and varied, affected by all sorts of social, cultural and emotional realities and rationalities.” Though the master narrative of biomedical rationality remained prominent, these alternative narratives were sensitive to the lived experiences and individual realities of the patient. They also explored the treatment gap, but viewed the “gap” as the product of complex interactions between psychiatrists and their patients. For the latter three participants, the “gap” was caused not by a lack of resources or knowledge, but by the friction between practitioners’ and patients’ expectations about the treatment of mental illness, and a mismatch between practitioners’ medical skills and the self-professed needs and understandings of patients. “According to the three psychiatrists in this [part of the] study,” Cooper concludes, “increasing the availability of services necessitates first and foremost rethinking the nature of the kinds of services that are expanded, and the associated epistemologies upon which these are based.”

Blog Archive: ALS, Quality of Life, and Feeding Tubes

This week, we revisit an article highlight that originally debuted here in May 2016. The highlight explores Pols and Limburg’s qualitative research on the role and meaning of feeding tubes in the lives of people with ALS. The article was officially released in our latest September 2016 issue of the journal, and is accessible in full here.


cropped-cropped-2009cover-copy1.jpg

Pol and Limburg begin by suggesting that while “quality of life” has been transformed into a measurement used widely in health research, it is difficult to operationalize when considering the daily, lived experiences of patients. Rather than approaching quality of life as a measure of attainment or “outcome,” the authors instead choose to reframe it as a continual process: one that is negotiated by individual patients differently. To examine what quality of life entails in a qualitative sense, the authors interviewed a population of people with ALS in the Netherlands with feeding tubes, or ALS patients considering one.

The literature on feeding tubes, the authors note, present many perspectives on the relationships between quality of life and eating. Some sources argue that feeding tubes deprive individuals of the important social aspects of eating, while others note that feeding tubes can unburden patients for whom swallowing and the physical actions of eating are difficult, uncomfortable, or impossible.

Patients and their families interviewed by the researchers, on the other hand, demonstrate such ambiguity towards feeding tubes contextually, depending on the stage of their feeding tube transition. For many, the initial decision to have a feeding tube placed in their bodies was an upsetting signal of bodily deterioration. The procedure itself, though technically minimally invasive, was also viewed with trepidation by patients. They worried about the hospital stay, and whether or not their body would be strong enough to adapt to the tube quickly. Pols and Limburg found that for those who had undergone the procedure, “there was a remarkable consensus among patients in their evaluation of tube placement, with the main variations mentioning just how terrible it had been.” The authors later note that some patients continued to view the feeding tube negatively after it was placed, envisioning it as an unnatural, upsetting addition to their bodies. Others described it as a “necessity” that came with quality of life benefits, although it was not pleasant to have attached to their bodies.

However, for many patients who had feeding tubes already implanted at the time of the study, the response could be notably positive. These participants noted that the devices restored their health and function, and lessened distressing symptoms like choking and an inability to swallow. For one patient, the feeding tube ensured that she received the appropriate calories, such that any food she decided to eat normally could be at her discretion. Other patients who cared less about eating a range of foods appreciated that the feeding tube rid them of the need to worry about what could be easily consumed.

The authors conclude that “the feeding tube can best be understood not as an intervention that causes ‘impacts on quality of life’, but as a technology or prosthesis that may bring different qualities and appreciations that may shift over time.” They add that the feeding tube acts as an intervention that re-orders daily life for patients coping with the a ‘new normal’ of chronic illness: rather than serving to balance “good” and “bad” qualities, as outlined in the disability paradox. Lastly, they remind readers that instrumentalizing “quality of life” risks losing these facets of illness experience. This term is deeply contextual, and responsive to the needs, expectations, and hopes of each patient undergoing treatments or coping with chronic conditions.

Fall 2016: Blog Update

cards3

The Culture, Medicine & Psychiatry blog will return to regular, once-weekly updates next week on Wednesday, following our reduced summer upload schedule. In the meantime, our readers can access articles and illness narratives from our new September 2016 issue here.

In the coming weeks, check back on the blog for special article highlights from the new issue, as well as “From the Archive” features, news posts, book release updates, commentaries, and other entries at the blog. As always, we continue to welcome submissions of guest commentaries on the cultural, social, and humanistic study of health and medicine. Please contact our social media editor, Julia Knopes (jcb193@case.edu) for more information.

Best wishes from the CMP Editorial Team!

In the News: Health Disparities and Water Quality in the 2016 Rio Summer Olympics

 

August 2016 – The 2016 Summer Olympic games in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil has dominated news headlines in recent weeks. The athletics event, taking place from August 5 to August 21, featured 207 countries in the Parade of Nations as well as the first ever Refugee Olympic Team. It is the first time the games have been held in South America. But besides highlights on the events and spotlights on athletes’ training regimens and backgrounds, there is another stream of news stories surrounding the Olympic Games. These stories have focused on two key public health issues related to this year’s Games: health disparities and water quality issues.

ap_16221704995649-2a9b5ac7291dd20a71781f18eaca8c4d3edb888a-s800-c85

Rio’s Olympic beach volleyball venue is on Copacabana Beach. Photo from Marcio Jose Sanchez for AP.

Only two years ago the FIFA World Cup was making similar headlines in Brazil. As reported in 2014, and highlighted in this blog[1], there have been past concerns about access to quality healthcare despite the surge of funds for the World Cup event. These reports unmasked a problematic system of health disparities to a global audience. The Daily Californian[2] stated that many Brazilians were “unhappy that their government [was] funding stadium renovations instead of spending on more instrumental matters like improved health care and emergency services.” Reports relating to the current Olympics have painted a similar picture for the present health scene. As Reuters[3] reported in December 2015, the governor of Rio de Janeiro declared a state of emergency “as hospitals, emergency rooms and health clinics cut services or closed units throughout the state as money ran out for equipment, supplies and salaries.” According to CNN[4], the financial crisis has been causing difficulties in the “provision of essential public services and can even cause a total breakdown in public security, health, education, mobility and environmental management.”. While the state of emergency declaration provides a critical 45 million reais ($25.3 million) in federal aid and may facilitate the transfer of future funds, estimates state that Rio de Janeiro owes approximately $355 million to employees and suppliers in the healthcare sector alone, and the state needs over $100 million to reopen the closed hospital units and clinics.[5] While the city of Rio spent approximately $7.1 billion on improving toll roads, ports and other infrastructure projects, the Brazil Ministry of Health devoted only $5.7 million to address health concerns[6].

rio-favelas--joao-velozo-9_custom-84b1822885fc72f97f7e9084730eb4397aa48b6e-s1300-c85

The Christ the Redeemer statue is visible above the Santa Marta favela in Rio de Janeiro. Photo from Joao Velozo for NPR. 

In addition to these issues (and the high-profile Zika virus, which is causing health concerns in multiple countries[7]), concerns surrounding water quality and cleanliness in Brazil has garnered considerable attention. A recent scene involving the diving and water polo pools turning a swamp-green color because of an algae bloom left some athletes complaining of itchy eyes.[8] While the Olympic Games have brought international attention to the impact of water quality on the athletes and visitors, the residents of Rio have been dealing with theses concerns on a daily basis for much longer. With almost 13 million people living in and around Rio, the current sewage system is struggling to cope. One news report[9] notes that “about 50 percent of what Brazilians flush down the toilet ends up in the country’s waterways. Diseases related to contaminated water are the second leading cause of death for children under five in Brazil.” Tests performed in a variety of areas, including the sailing venue of Guanabara Bay, over the course of a year found high levels of “superbugs of the sort found in hospitals on the shores of the bay.” The possibility of hospital sewage entering the municipal sewage system remains a concern.[10]

An economic recession, compounded by water concerns, political unrest, and a presently faltering healthcare system all leave many Cariocas— citizens of Rio– who rely on the public health system in a challenging and hazardous situation across the social, medical, and political spheres. With hopes of local profits from the Olympic Games ranging in the billions of dollars, much is at stake for both residents and investors.[11] Despite the risks and tribulations, many residents welcome the international event and attention, and credit the Olympics for cultivating “several underutilized, often abandoned spaces have been transformed to ones that appeal and cater to local residents”. Many “beautification” projects leave residents hoping the installation of new art and the newly constructed spaces will leave a lasting impression on its residents and visitors long after the games end.[12]  Despite this optimism, the citizens of Rio are not impacted equally by the Games.[13] The improved infrastructures will likely benefit those who already have access to services. Tourism, and tourism cash, has been weak in the favelas, or shantytowns, which house at least 25% of the population in Rio. The infrastructure inequities have even bypassed some neighborhoods entirely, leaving those residents out of the celebrations.[14]

Overall, these Olympic Games promise once again to bring the world’s cultures together in competition and camaraderie, yet they do not do so without controversy. This global spectacle illuminates athletics and sportsmanship, as well as the intersections between cultural events, politics and nationalism, power and profit, and community health. These larger issues lead to questions about what will happen to the residents of Rio after the Games have drawn to a close.

 


[1] https://culturemedicinepsychiatry.com/2014/07/11/news-the-2014-world-cup-and-healthcare-in-brazil/

[2] http://www.dailycal.org/2014/07/08/uc-berkeley-faculty-graduate-students-look-world-cup-different-light/

[3] http://www.reuters.com/article/us-brazil-health-emergency-idUSKBN0U716Q20151224

[4] http://www.cnn.com/2016/06/18/americas/brazil-rio-state-emergency-funding-olympics/

[5]http://www.reuters.com/article/us-brazil-health-emergency-idUSKBN0U716Q20151224

[6] http://wuwm.com/post/let-s-do-numbers-money-spent-rio-olympics#stream/0

[7] http://www.nytimes.com/2016/01/29/world/americas/brazil-zika-rio-olympics.html?_r=0

[8] http://uk.reuters.com/article/uk-olympics-rio-diving-pool-idUKKCN10O0UW?feedType=RSS&feedName=sportsNews

[9] http://wuwm.com/post/rios-water-problems-go-far-beyond-olympics#stream/0

[10] http://edition.cnn.com/2016/08/02/sport/rio-2016-olympic-games-water-quality-sailing-rowing/index.html

[11] http://www.newsweek.com/rio-2016-who-stands-benefit-successful-olympics-453094

[12] http://www.kvia.com/news/rio-olympics-bring-beautification-projects/40884340

[13] http://www.npr.org/sections/thetorch/2016/08/11/487769536/in-rios-favelas-hoped-for-benefits-from-olympics-have-yet-to-materialize

[14] http://www.reuters.com/video/2016/08/14/olympic-infrastructure-causes-suffering?videoId=369565427

Book Release: Eigen’s “Mad-Doctors in the Dock”

Screen Shot 2016-06-28 at 4.00.17 PM

Image via JHU Press website

To be published this November 2016 from Johns Hopkins University Press is Joel Peter Eigen’s Mad-Doctors in the Dock: Defending the Diagnosis, 1760-1913. This medical history examines the foundations and early development of the criminal insanity defense in England. Drawing on testimony and documents from almost 1,000 trials, this text examines how physicians, surgeons, and other health care providers connected diagnosis with legal culpability.  The text promises to carefully assess the dynamic relationships between criminal justice, mental health, medicine, and the emergent disciplines of forensic psychology and psychiatry. This book will be of equal interest to anthropologists of medicine and law, as well as psychological anthropologists, historians and sociologists of medicine, and cross-disciplinary scholars in the medical humanities.

To learn more about this upcoming release, click here.

About the Author: Joel Peter Eigen serves as the Charles A. Dana Professor of Sociology at Franklin and Marshall College as well as Principal Fellow (Honorary) at the University of Melbourne. This text is the third in a series that Eigen has published on the history of the insanity defense. The first book, Witnessing Insanity: Madness and Mad-Doctors in the English Court, was released in 1995 by Yale University Press and is available here. The second book, Unconscious Crime: Mental Absence and Criminal Responsibility in Victorian London, was published in 2003 by Johns Hopkins University Press. It can be purchased here.

Issue Highlight Vol 40 Issue 2: Global Health Diplomacy in Ethiopia

cropped-cards.jpg

Across the past few weeks, we have been spotlighting new articles from our June 2016 issue, which you can access in full here. The theme of this special issue is The Clinic in Crisis: Medicine and Politics in the Context of Social Upheaval. This week, we visit Lauren Carruth’s article “Peace in the Clinic: Rethinking ‘Global Health Diplomacy’ in the Somali Region of Ethiopia.” You can read the full article at this link.


In this article, Carruth argues that the politics of global health manifest not only at the scale of “interstate” interactions between governments, NGOs, and international assemblies, but at the local and interpersonal levels between individuals who are giving, receiving, and managing clinical care in “politically insecure” places. Through ethnographic research on two health programs in the Somali region of Ethiopia, the author argues that medical care provision can alternatively strain and strengthen political relationships between people across ethnic and social boundaries.

For instance, Somali people in Ethiopia often refused to seek medical services from the local clinic, Aysha Health Center. Somali patients complained that the Habesha (a native Ethiopian group) nurses were insensitive and uninterested in treating their health concerns. Many Somali informants offered up the same story as evidence: three mothers went to the clinic, and their three children had different ailments. Yet the Habesha nurses did not examine the children, and offered the same drugs to each of the mothers without diagnosing each patient. Somali patients also had difficulty securing a translator who could assist them in conversations with clinicians, who spoke Amharic. The Habesha clinic staff countered that the Somali patients were adverse to biomedical care, instead trusting native folk healers over the clinicians. They added that Somali patients would not adhere to the medication regimens or treatment plans that they recommended. In this case, the friction between Habesha caregivers and Somali patients intensified long-standing ethnic and political tensions at the local scale.

Carruth presents another case, however, where medical aid eases inter-ethnic relationships and ameliorate social rifts between opposing groups. She describes a mobile UNICEF clinic staffed by two Somali clinicians of the Ogaden clan operating in Ethiopia. Though these Somali clinicians were caring for fellow Somali patients, the patients descended from a less politically powerful line which did not have the dominant social standing of the Ogaden: a clan with significant regional power in Ethiopia. Though the patients were of opposing clans, such as the Issa, the two clinicians listened intently to the patients’ complaints, recalled their family lines when they returned for further treatment, and even offered resources like supplementary nutrition to ailing patients despite UNICEF limitations on what types of patients could receive these rations. The patients adored the mobile clinic staff, and the clinicians became integrated into the marginalized communities they served. This example, Carruth notes, highlights the potential for medical aid to facilitate positive and deeply personal relationships between factions in regions that have otherwise experienced significant social unrest.

Carruth concludes that in order to successfully deliver medical aid to places encountering social upheaval or unrest, it is critical to unite oppositional groups within clinical spaces themselves. Providing medical resources and building clinics alone, she notes, fails to address the need to facilitate positive relationships between individuals mired in conflict. Instead, to ease political and social tensions, Carruth posits that clinics and similar treatment centers can serve as sites of caring, communal exchange between otherwise opposed social groups.