This document is part of the Festschrift in Honor of Charles Speel, edited by Thomas J. Sienkewicz and James E. Betts and published by Monmouth College in Monmouth, Illinois in 1997. The Table of Contents for this volume can be accessed here. If you have any questions, you may contact Tom Sienkewicz at toms@monm.edu.
Humanistic Problem Solving: The Case of Mr. T1
William J. Winslade, MC' 63
Introduction
Pragmatism, the distinctly American philosophy associated with Charles Pierce, John
Dewey, William James, and others, stresses the importance of linking theory with practice.
Theories are valued more for their instrumental than their intrinsic value. Theories
provide means to achieve human ends. Abstract theories may be interesting for their own
sake, but their value is enhanced if they facilitate solutions to human problems. Moral
theory, for instance, should help us discover not only what is right or good, but also how
to achieve these ends in concrete situations. Legal theories express ideals of justice but
also should guide us in resolving real disputes. Psychological theories explain human
motivation in general, but also should illuminate particular instances of human
interactions. Alfred North Whitehead (1962:4) captures the spirit of pragmatic humanism in
a trenchant aphorism: "The function of reason is to promote the art of life."
Despite their impatience with empty abstractions and bloodless categories, pragmatists
do not denigrate the value of ideas, principles, and theories. Mathematics, for example,
must be grasped in theory before it can be used effectively. Still, if numbers were used
only for calculating or counting other numbers or only worshiped for their purity, their
potential instrumental value would be wasted. Similarly, the meanings of moral principles
and the functions of law must be understood before they can be used effectively. The
potential value of principles of bioethics such as autonomy, respect for persons, or
beneficence becomes actualized when they help resolve problems. The law serves as a human
instrument when actual disputes are settled in a courtroom at the negotiating table.
As a philosopher inspired by pragmatism, I seek ways to bring philosophy to bear on
problems of living. Although many philosophers often find comfort in analytical
detachment, some are also drawn to action and feelings. I often find myself among the
latter, eager to understand for the sake of integrating thought, feelings, and action. Yet
sufficient intellectual detachment is necessary to understand and appreciate what is going
on and how one might best respond. As a lawyer and a psychoanalyst, I am intrigued by the
details and nuances of particular cases which call not only for reflection and
introspection, but also decision and action. For nearly twenty years I have provided
consultation, negotiation, and mediation in hospitals and other health care settings. To
integrate thought and action one must be willing sometimes to straddle, if not revise,
academic, and professional boundaries. I see myself as a humanist engaged in the practice
of problem solving.
The following case provides an example of pragmatic humanism incorporated into a legal process. The case begins with Mr. T, an elderly gentlemen, who resisted and refused numerous efforts to persuade him to have his gangrenous foot amputated. His family was intimidated by him; his physicians were exasperated; his attorney and the attorney for the government were bemused. I was appointed by a court asked to assess his situation to be an independent legal and bioethics adviser to the court. My role went beyond what is currently called ethics consultation (See Winslade 1994). I was also authorized to be a participant in the proceedingsto investigate, to examine witnesses at the hearing, and to report and make recommendations to the court. I accepted the invitation to explore the human problemspsychological, ethical, and legaland to propose practical ways of solving them.
Although in my official capacity I was appointed as an independent counsel to a court,
my unspecified role allowed me the latitude to use collaborative rather than adversarial
methods. I sought to create an open-ended dialogue among parties - Mr. T., his family, the
physicians, and the attorneys - who seemed to be at an impasse. After I became involved, I
organized and orchestrated at Mr. T's home an important meeting during which conversations
occurred in an informal setting with most of the essential parties participating. Two
important court hearingsabout a month apartproduced both an initial court order for an
amputation and a judicial demand for continuity of medical care. In this case the judge
was more than an impartial arbiter; he also became a passionate participant who sought
assurance that his initial judicial order resulted in beneficial consequences. The judge
also encouraged a bioethical and psychosocial dimension to be brought into the usual
adversary process, thereby affecting the preparation of the case, the hearing, and
subsequent related events.
Instead of being only a participant observer, I was a participant interpreter.
Participant observers seek mainly to study and understand their subjects, though their
presence as an observer inevitably affects to some degree the context and conduct of those
within the situation. But, at least in theory, participant observers avoid direct
intervention in the normal course of the conduct under observation. Participant
"interpreters," as I use the term, may intervene to help clarify issues,
identify options, facilitate courses of conduct, and participate in the decision making
process. For example, I sought not only to understand the situation of Mr. T, but also to
help change it for the better. As a result of the change in dynamics among the
participants, in particular toward collaborative efforts rather than adversarial
posturing, eventually effective solutions were found to various problems, including but
not limited to Mr. T's amputation. I think, in retrospect, that what the probate judge
enabled me and others to do was not merely to apply bioethics to a legal case;but also to
concentrate on seeking broader solutions to human problems. Legal procedures did not, as
they so often do, dominate the preparation or the hearing. The law served as a human
instrument rather than a bureaucratic obstacle. The interactions among the participants
not only changed the life of Mr. T, but also altered our own perceptions. We were able to
think, see, and feel differently about Mr. T as well as about the legal process. Perhaps
in other cases the introduction of such a court appointed participant interpreter might
contribute in a similarly significant way, by drawing more attention to the problems of
living rather than legal technicalities.2
Mr. T and his Problems3
Mr. T was a 73 year old retired taxi driver from the Isle of Man. He was charming,
witty, and stubborn. He and his wife of 51 years, Kathleen, lived in a bungalow in a
California beach community. In the late 1960's, Mr. T ended his long career of heavy
drinking after his alcoholism left him bedridden and severely depressed. Following ten
weeks at an alcohol rehabilitation program, he returned sober, but still depressed and
withdrawn. In mid-1979, he got an infection in his left toe which did not heal. After
about two months, Kathleen called a doctor to the house, but Mr. T adamantly refused to
permit the physician to touch or otherwise examine his toe. Kathleen and his daughter (who
lived nearby) could not convince Mr. T to seek medical attention for his foot despite his
considerable pain. He remained virtually immobilized on the living room couch.
A few weeks later, a fire erupted in Mr. T's living room when he feel asleep on the
couch while smoking a cigarette. A neighbor called the fire department; firefighters
arrived in time prevent any serious injury or damage. Kathleen and her daughter were told
by a fireman that it might be possible to hospitalize Mr. T on the grounds that he was
gravely disabled (unable to provide food, clothing and shelter) as a result of a mental
disorder. The police were called to his dilapidated bungalow after the fire department
left. Although Mr. T refused to enter the hospital voluntarily, the police instructed the
paramedics to take him in as an involuntary psychiatric patient who was dangerous to
himself and gravely disabled. He was treated for a few weeks for his psychiatric
problemsdepression, withdrawal, etc. He was also informed that his infected toe had
become gangrenous. Physicians agreed that an amputation, while not yet an emergency, was
medically indicated to prevent a life-threatening infection. Mr. T vacillated between
consenting to and refusing the amputation.
During his hospitalization Mr. T did permit his infected toe to be debrided and cleaned
and to have dressings applied. He also received pain medication which helped make him
comfortable. Eventually he was released from involuntary commitment with his gangrenous
toes beginning to slough off. He resumed his role as autocrat of the living room from his
semi-reclining position on the couch. At this point, his wife and daughter, literally and
figuratively unable to move Mr. T, contacted the public guardian's office of Los Angeles
County to determine whether (1) a personal conservator could be appointed and (2) whether
a court would order that an amputation be performed. The probate court appointed an
attorney for Mr. T, the public guardian's office was represented by county counsel, and I
was appointed by the court on its own motion as counsel for the court with the authority
to conduct an independent investigation and to participate in the court hearing. I was
chosen for this role because, at that time, I was chairman of the Los Angeles County Bar
Association Bioethics Committee.
As I began my independent investigation, it seemed sensible to try to work
collaboratively with the other attorneys. The county counsel (correctly) perceived the
case as a conundrum; Mr. T's attorney felt obligated to advocate for Mr. T's preference
not to have a conservator or an amputation. However, both attorneys agreed to hold a
meeting in Mr. T's living room to observe my chosen psychiatric expert (who was also an
attorney) interview Mr. T. Previously, a family physician, a psychiatrist, and an
orthopedist had interviewed Mr. T. The family physician had judged him to be competent to
refuse the amputation, but believed his decision was irrational; the psychiatrist believed
that his competence was somewhat impaired by depression, denial, and possible suicidal
desires, but that he was nonetheless mentally competent; the orthopedist was confident
that he was incompetent and that the surgery should be mandated.
When the meeting was held at Mr. T's home, the participants included Mr. T, the three
attorneys, Mr. T's wife, daughter, and son-in-law, a home care nurse, and the forensic
psychiatrist. Mr. T held forth from his couch with his bandaged foot prominently elevated
on the coffee table. During the interview with the forensic psychiatrist, Mr. T displayed
a good long term memory, a sense of humor, and an ability to respond appropriately in
conversation; the forensic psychiatrist believed that his short term memory deficits were
indicative of organic brain syndrome resulting from alcoholism, aging, or both. A few
minutes after Mr. T had correctly answered a question, he could not recall that it had
been asked. He denied that he had gangrene or that anyone had told him he had gangrene.
Although he admitted that his toe had been sore, he insisted that it was getting better.
He correctly pointed out that the nurse cleaned and dressed his foot and that the pain was
gone. "Why, a few walks in the ocean," he claimed, "and I will dance all
night." Mr. T added, pointing upward, that God would take care of him. Even when his
own attorney told him that several physicians had told him he had gangrene and that his
foot needed to be amputated, Mr. T denied having heard this before. The nurse told him in
our presence that his foot was getting worse, not better, but Mr. T dismissed her with a
wave of his hand. Convinced by the putrid odor emitted when the nurse removed the
dressing, everyone except Mr. T believed her.
During my forty-minute interview with Mr. T, he was cooperative and willing to answer
my questions. After listening to the other interview, it occurred to me that a key
question has not been raised. I then asked him a hypothetical question: If you had
gangrene, or believed that you had gangrene, and a doctor said amputation was needed to
save your life, what would you say? He quickly replied that he would say
"amputate." However, when asked if he believed that he currently had gangrene,
he denied it completely. He denied that any doctor has told him that he had gangrene.
He did not, for example, indicate that he knew he had gangrene, but he still did not
want amputation. He did not say that he did not believe what the doctors told him; he did
not recall talking to any doctors. Apparently he sincerely believed that he did not have a
serious condition. As a result, he did not understand or appreciate that he was suffering
from a life-threatening illness. He did not grasp that he had gangrene and that amputation
was indicated. Because he did not acknowledge the risks of his condition, he could not
evaluate what course of action is appropriate. He did not take in, much less assess, the
relevant facts and opinions. He denied, forgot, or refused to hear what was said. I
concluded that Mr. T lacked the capacity to refuse medical treatment necessary to save his
life.
About a week after the meeting at Mr. T's house, a hearing was conducted at the Probate
Court in downtown Los Angeles. Mr. T, his wife, his daughter, and three physicians
testified at the hearing. All three attorneys, as well as the judge, participated in the
questioning. The transcript of the hearing reveals many of the same ambiguities and
uncertainties described previously, with some additional nuances.
Mr. T was the first person to testify. He was cooperative to the extent that his memory
and psychological state allowed. When asked whether he had been told or believed that he
had a gangrene which posed a threat to his life, he denied both. He acknowledged that his
foot was bandaged, but insisted that it was getting better. "It's a good foot,"
he said. He trusted that God would take care of him. He made it clear that he desired to
retain his foot. When confronted with the same hypothetical question which I had posed
during the interview at his house, he sometimes replied that he would agree to an
amputation and sometimes that it was a very difficult question. His memoryeven during
the hearingwas fragmented. He could remember little about conversations concerning his
foot. But in other respects his testimony was relevant, coherent, and appropriateevening
charming and humorous. For example, I reminded him that he had complained during my
interview at his home that my questions gave him a headache. His response was "Yes,
sir. It cost me $10 in aspirins."
Although Mr. T made intelligible responses to each individual question at the time it
was asked, his responses were inconsistent with each other. At times he seemed wholly
unwilling to consider an amputation, at other times he agreed to it (if it was necessary
to save his life), and at other times he was indecisive. He showed little recollection of
previous conversations, hospitalizations, and treatments. The overriding impression one
gets from the transcript is that Mr. T still did not believe that his foot was seriously
infected. If he did believe that it was a life-threatening condition, he would be
ambivalent about whether or not to consent to an amputation, but his denial and his memory
deficits made it difficult to assess the extent to which he understood and appreciated the
situation.
The physicians who testified reflected a similar inconclusiveness in their professional
opinions. The opinions ranged along a spectrum of opinion about Mr. T: that he was
competent and irrational; that he was depressed and possibly suicidal, but not demented or
incompetent; or that he suffered from organic brain syndrome and was incompetent. Each
physician cited some evidence in support of his or her position because Mr. T responded in
a variety of different ways.
To complicate matters further, his wife and daughter reported that, although Mr. T had
been lethargic and deeply depressed before being forcibly taken to the hospital, he was
now much more lively., but that, as his vitality had improved, so had his stubbornness.
They were both frustrated and yet unwilling to impose their will on Mr. T. It was clear
that they loved him and wanted the amputation to be ordered, but did not desire the
authority to make the decision for him. They wanted the judge to decide.
The judge from time to time would enter into the questioning of Mr. T and the other
witnesses. The judge was particularly concerned about the consequences of amputation and
the nature of the follow-up care which would be offered. It was apparent that he, too,
found the situation perplexing. The judge was respectful of Mr. T's asserted faith in God,
but troubled by the gaps in Mr. T's memory and rigidity of his beliefs. Testimony from Mr.
T and others brought out that he wanted to live, enjoyed life, and could, with proper
medical and physical therapy, have his life saved and its quality preserved. The judge
ordered that a temporary conservator be appointed with the authority to consent to the
amputation. The judge was noticeably moved as he issued the order. He went on to explain
carefully why he believed that Mr. T did not have the specific competence necessary to
decide about an amputation. The judge then abruptly left the bench and went to his
chambers.
Struck by his obvious emotion, I visited the judge in his chambers. I learned that his
father as well as his son-in-law had experienced amputation as a result of war injuries.
The judge was well aware of the critical importance of post-operative care and
counselling. He described some of the complex psychological consequencesanger, loss,
mourning, etc.which he had seen with his relatives who had suffered amputations.
A week after the court hearing, Mr. T's gangrenous foot was amputated. He recovered
well physically, but was unwilling to engage in physical therapy. No psychiatric care was
ordered by the surgeons. For about a month, Mr. T languished in the hospital; he became
more depressed and uncooperative. However, his appointed attorney and the public guardian
assigned as his temporary conservator sought to have Mr. T placed in a rehabilitation
hospital. The surgeons and the hospital bureaucrats balked because of delays about
Medicare funding. Meanwhile, Mr. T had become a problem patient.
A month after the first hearing, a second hearing was held to determine whether a
permanent guardian should be appointed. At the hearing, the only witnesses were the public
guardian and the surgeon who performed the amputation. The public guardian described the
bureaucratic difficulties and the surgeon described Mr. T's uncooperativeness. The judge
was visibly angry with both reports. He reprimanded the surgeon for his failure to follow
through with adequate post-operative care, psychiatric counseling, placement, or
rehabilitation. The judge was irritated with the surgeon's lack of familiarity with the
specifics of Mr. T's care and with the bureaucratic obstacles which the public guardian
had failed to surmount. It was made quite clear that the judge would not tolerate further
delays in providing for Mr. T's specific medical, psychological, social, and personal
needs. The judge ordered a transcript of the first hearing to help make it clear to the
surgeon and public guardian that appropriate follow-up care was critical to restore Mr.
T's functioning. Eventually, Mr. T was discharged from the hospital to his bungalow near
the beach.
A month later Mr. T's daughter called his attorney to report another fire at Mr. T's
house caused by a cigarette. She informed the attorney that no further follow-up had been
provided for Mr. T, that his medical and psychological status was questionable, and that
he had deteriorated. After a series of phone calls, another meeting was held at Mr. T's
house. This time the public guardian was strongly encouraged, if not pressured, to find a
suitable residential placement for Mr. T and his wife, who was no longer able to cope with
the burdens of daily caretaking.
With the help of a reluctant but capable new public guardian, Mr. T and his wife were placed in a pleasant residential nursing home. Relieved of the burdensome caretaking responsibilities, she continued her close companionship with her
husband. However, she also had some freedom to run errands or visit relatives while
knowing that Mr. T had adequate care and supervision. The Medicare obstacles were removed
and the financial matters were resolved without further complications.
About one year later, I visited Mr. T and his wife at the nursing home. Mr. T was
lively, lucid, and charming. He had steadfastly refused physical therapy, but he was quite
comfortable in his wheelchair. The staff told me that he regularly entertained the other
residents with his wit and stories. His wife seemed relaxed and happy. I asked Mr. T if he
remembered going to court a year earlier. "Oh, yes," he replied, "that is
when we went to court to get permission to have my foot amputated"! Mr. T's
revisionist memory served him well. Despite his limited mobility, he had regained his
ability to enjoy his life. The judge's order had been finally fulfilled.
Discussion
In this section, I offer some thoughts about this case to call attention to a few of
the connections among law, ethics, and psychodynamics as aspects of humanistic problem
solving. My aim is to raise issues and to point the way toward further exploration, not to
provide a comprehensive analysis.
I realized then, as I do now, how difficult it sometimes is to assess a particular
person's competence. Even when one attempts to determine a person's specific competence to
perform a given taskhere to refuse the amputation, numerous variables are relevant. Mr.
T's desire to keep his foot to maintain his physical integrity was understandable. So was
his belief in God; many people turn to personal faith for support in times of crisis. His
ambivalence and indecisiveness are likewise not a surprise. But Mr. T's failure,
inability, or refusal to believe that he had gangrene distinguishes his case from others
who have competently refused amputation (In re Ouackenbush, 383 A. 2d 785
[1968]). And his response (on some occasions) to the hypothetical question "What
would you say if you did believe you had gangrene?" suggested both general
competence and specific incompetence. Without doubt Mr. T's competence was impaired, but
what degree of impairment is sufficient to override his autonomy and to order him to
undergo the amputation? Furthermore, Mr. T's memory, ambivalence, and indecisiveness
fluctuated; thus different physicians perceived him differently at different times. Even
during the hearing he responded differently to similar questions posed by different
people.
In the end, Mr. T seemed more responsive, for whatever reason, to the judge than to the
physicians. A moment before the judge issued his order for Mr. T's amputation, he seemed
to mutter something to himself. I asked Mr. T if he wanted to say something. "I just
said," he replied in a firm voice, "that I think the judge is a honorable
gentleman." Was this because he sensed that the judge was about to make a decision
that Mr. T wanted but could not make himself? Was it because of the kind and caring manner
in which the judge conducted the hearing? Was it because Mr. T was in awe of judicial but
not medical authority? I do not know and I am not sure Mr. T could have answered these
questions if they had been asked. But I believe he meant what he said. And it is
consistent with Mr. T's revised memory of the purpose of the hearing. Perhaps he could not
articulate for himself that he wanted the judge to order the amputation until after it had
occurred. His conscious desire to keep his foot, which motivated his denial of his
condition and his refusal to consent to an amputation, may have been in conflict with an
unconscious desire to submit to an amputation to preserve his life. Perhaps a powerful,
but inarticulate, life instinct, as well as a conscious desire to live, were in conflict
with his explicit desire to maintain physical integrity. Mr. T may, after all, have gotten
what he really wanted.
That the probate judge appointed me as a counsel to the court, not merely a consulting
expert, represented a novel intervention which significantly altered the usual adversary
process. Mr. T's attorney still concentrated her attention on protecting her client's
rights and the county counsel represented the public's interest, but each attorney also
cooperated with me as the court's counsel. The trio of lawyers performed in a different
register than the usual adversarial duet. For one thing, my presence and assigned
authority allowed me to formulate the legal agenda as a problem to be solved jointly
rather than merely a conflict between the rights of Mr. T and the state. My role prior to
the hearing, like that of the judge during the hearing, was to go beyond technical legal
issues to the substance of the human problems.
We discovered that attorneys, clients, families, doctors, bureaucrats, and judges could
eventually work together rather than in opposition to solve a perplexing set of problems.
Although not all cases can be successfully mediated or negotiated, many conflicts can be
defused or managed better if adversarial attitudes are minimized. The use of alternative
dispute resolution strategies early on may decrease the likelihood that a case will end up
in court. Of course sometimes, as in the case of Mr. T, the courtroom becomes an
unavoidable part of a larger process.
The judge's special interest in this case, based on his personal experience, no doubt
motivated him to play an active role in the case, which he approached in an imaginative
way. He did not simply impose his prejudices; he did not even publicly reveal his personal
knowledge. Instead he reshaped the process to make it more likely that key issues would
emerge. Only at the second hearing, when he chastised the surgeon and the public
guardian's office for their failure to follow through, did his passion publicly erupt.
Even then it took further collective effort by others to find a suitable solution to Mr.
T's problems in living. The judge catalyzed, but did not dominate, the process which
eventually resulted in a satisfactory solution to the living arrangements for Mr. T and
his wife.
This case reminds us that medical problems are often inextricably linked to a web of
psychological, personal, familial, legal, ethical, religious, and social issues. It is
sometimes possible to find solutions to legal and medical problems which do justice, not
only to the legalities, but also to the nuances of the human condition. To reach such
solutions, however, it may be necessary to blur or even to defy usual professional
practices or academic boundaries. One may also be required to develop new strategies which
alter standard procedures. Insights from the humanities can sometime provide clues about
how best to proceed in unfamiliar situations. A close reading of cases like that of Mr. T
may also benefit humanists. Problems such as those posed by the case of Mr. T engage our
attention, imagination, and emotions. We not only learn something about Mr. T, we learn
something about ourselves.
Nearly a decade before I encountered Mr. T, while I was a law student, I studied
carefully a seminal book on bioethics (Ramsey 1970). Although I found Ramsey's theological
and ethical reflections challenging and his approach to the physician-patient relationship
illuminating, his analysis of the principle of respect for persons seemed exceedingly
abstract. Ramsey stressed the significance of informed consent, but it was my impression
that the idea of informed consent, though theoretically appealing, failed to capture what
respect for persons requires in practice. For example, a person can be treated with
respect, even if their preferences are overridden and their consent not obtained.
Conversely, even if persons are informed, the manner in which they are treated may fail to
show respect for them. Thus, the theory of informed consent does not guarantee that
respect for persons will be manifested in practice. Something more is required. A
pragmatic approach to the principle of respect for persons integrates theory and practice.
One of the things I learned from participating in this process was how important and
how difficult it is to understand, really to understand, others from their points of view.
Although Mr. T's family, physicians, and attorneys listened to him and took him seriously,
they did not completely hear him or fully connect with his feelings and concerns. The
judge, however, was able to integrate the facts and Mr. T's medical and psychosocial needs
at the moment and over time. The judge displayed greater empathy4 for him.
Although Mr. T was informed, he was not competent to take in the information provided.
Despite his refusal to consent to the amputation, the judge's careful attention to Mr. T's
thoughts and feelings displayed respect for him as a person. Beyond that, he announced his
decision and judicial order to Mr. T in a manner evoking Mr. T's surprising response
described earlier. Mr. T's reciprocal respect for the judge at the hearing and, perhaps,
the revision of his memory, were consequences, I believe, of the empathy and respect shown
to Mr. T by the judge. Empathy links the abstract principle of respect for persons with
the manifestation of mutual respect in an interpersonal context. The principle of respect
for persons, properly put into practice in this case, culminated in real benefits for all
concerned.
In conclusion, I want to suggest that the approach to problem solving adopted by the
probate judge in this case is limited neither to the courts nor to the medical setting. My
role as a participant interpreter and as an agent of the court in this case was enhanced
by humanistic and psychological insights, as well as a legal role which permitted
innovation. No profession or academic field, however, has a monopoly on the skills needed
to perform the task of a participant interpreter. The demands of the role are shaped by
the specific problems arising out of the particular circumstances. The participant
interpreter brings to the situation the ability to identify issues, to ask questions, to
analyze options, to offer guidance, and to help carry out decisions. Humanists can play an
important part in creating an intellectual and practical environment in which reason can
promote the art of life.
Works Cited
Davis, Dena S. Davis. 1991. "Rich Cases: The Ethics of Thick Description." Hastings Center Report, July - August, 1991, pp. 12-17.
More, Ellen Singer, and Maureen A. Milligan. 1994. The Empathic Practitioner.
New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press.
Jonsen, FIRST NAME, FIRST NAME Siegler, and William J. Winslade. 1993. Clinical Ethics, 3d ed. New York: McGraw Hill.
Ramsey, Paul. 1970. The Patient as a Person. New Haven: Yale University Press.
Winslade, William J. 1993. "End-of-Life Medicine, Law, and Ethics: A Twilight Zone" in Emerging Issues in Biomedical Policy: An Annual Review, edited by Robert H. Blank and Andrea L. Bonnicksen. PLACE OF PUBLICATION AND PUBLISHER NEEDED.
__________. 1994. "Ethics Consultation: Cases in Context."Albany Law Review 57:679-691.
Whitehead, Albert Lord. 1962. The Function of Reason. Boston: Beacon Press.
Notes
1. An earlier version of this paper was presented at the Hastings Center Fellows
Meeting, and at the William Bennett Bean Symposium on the Humanities in Medicine. It will
also be published in The Journal of Clinical Ethics in 1997.
2. See Winslade 1993, where I discuss the merits of an independent court appointed
conservator in contested cases concerning termination of life-support for hopelessly ill
patients. But the help of a participant interpreter might be an even better idea.
3. The case presented is discussed in detail rather than as a vignette. (A brief account of this case is found in Jonsen, Siegler, and Winslade 1993: 48-49. Although brief case excerpts are useful for some purposes, a detailed case report helps to bring out nuances and contextual complexities. Because my approach to - or perhaps I should say prejudice about - bioethics stresses cases in context rather than principles and theories, I prefer case descriptions rich enough to speak for themselves. See Davis 1991.
4. On the concept of empathy in medical practice, see More and Milligan 1994.