I end with another parable, but it is also a true story. Harvey Gushing, the famous surgeon after whom the Gushing Lectures are named, made an international reputation in his allegiance to quality. He badgered his profession to a higher standard of self-effacement and railed against the debasement of clinical skills and overemphasis on research and pursuit of personal gain. We honor him to this day because those were, and remain, important points. Yet, Harvey Gushing served as a surgeon during World War I and at Ypres. Although the Allied mortality was as much as 50,000 soldiers a day, not counting the wounded, Gushing refused to operate on any more than two patients each day, arguing that to do so would have lowered his standard of care for his patients a – standard that made sense in one time but that became strikingly insensitive, and I suggest even unethical, in another when confronted with a different reality.

Richard Lamm is an eloquent and insistent advocate for healthcare reform. In his paper, he argues that if reform is to be effective, a radical metamorphosis in the values underlying our present system must take place. “New realities” have made the “old values” unsustainable. Unless they are replaced by “new values,” we face a future of disastrous overspending, gross inequities in accessibility, poorer health for many, and more expensive dying.

Much of recent medical, legal, and ethical focus has been directed toward the unborn or newly born. Guidelines and frameworks for decision making are in the early stages of evolution and are likely to shift as the politics, ethics, and economics of caregiving move beyond technologic accomplishments and debates into a more compassionate construct that may include input (when necessary and appropriate) from an institutional bioethics committee. Beyond that, the courts may continue to be the place where unresolved issues are settled, and with each passing year new and often divergent legal decisions are being generated that further complicate the physician's role as care giver and healer.

I'd like to say a few things about the quality of life of people like me. We can have – and now I do have – a good quality of life, but we still have to fight for it. We have to take back control of our lives from the KEEPERS, from the professionals.

Perhaps the most troublesome medical decisionmaking cases facing state courts concern serious healthcare decisions involving patients with severe or profound retardation. The courts who face this issue encounter a difficult dilemma. A decision to terminate a medical treatment of a dependent, vulnerable person requires considerable solicitude. Allowing a helpless person to die sooner than is medically possible directly conflicts with that person's most basic right – the right to live. However, continuing treatment in the face of terminal illness may not only prolong but also increase intense mental and physical suffering. Perpetuating near torture in the name of protecting a person's life may be equally worrisome.

The moral standing of involuntary sterilization has long been subject to debate but has only recently been looked upon with disfavor. When sterilization of a mentally handicapped minor is entertained, issues of eugenics, medical ethics, and legal precedent specially arise. Ethics consultants and ethics committees have been asked to consider such cases.

On many occasions, care givers are faced with problems in which “drastic” types of treatment seem clearly inappropriate but “lesser” interventions still appear to be advisable, if not indeed mandatory. In the hospital setting, examples are frequent: the demented elderly patient, still very much capable of brief social interactions and still able to enjoy at least limited life, who although clearly not a candidate for coronary bypass surgery is, nevertheless, a patient in whom an intercurrent pneumonia deserves treatment; the severely retarded youngster in whom appendectomy seems clearly warranted but for whom long-term dialysis seems ill-advised. The examples are legion, and their variety defies an easy, stereotypical solution. Why, one may ask, is the treatment of intercurrent pneumonia or operating on an acute appendix “clearly indicated” while coronary bypass and long-term dialysis “clearly” are not? The reactions of care givers in the past have often consisted of attempts to give half-hearted treatment or to treat fully even against their better judgment. The lack of conceptual guidelines that might help sort out such problems has inevitably led either to an inflexible absolutism in which all possible treatment to sustain life or no treatment at all is given or has resulted in a pathetic attempt to act but act minimally (the “slow code” or to give what seems to be an ineffective dose of antimicrobials) with the hope that such actions will be ineffective.

Over the past 15 years, ethics committees have become common within the acute care hospital setting. Their development within long-term care settings has evolved more slowly and has been confined primarily to nursing homes. In this paper, I describe the development of an ethics committee in a residential center for the mentally retarded and developmentally disabled (MR/DD). I describe how the committee has progressed and some of the ethical issues in this setting.

A good deal of attention has been recently focused on the presumed advertising excesses of the healthcare industry in its promotion techniques to healthcare professionals, whether through offering gratuities such as gifts, honoraria, or travel support2-6 or through deception. Two basic concerns have been expressed: Does the acceptance of gratuities bias the recipient, tainting his or her responsibilities as the patient's agent? Does acceptance of the gratuity by the healthcare professional contribute to the high cost of healthcare products? The California Society of Hospital Pharmacists was recently asked by its members to formulate a policy for an appropriate relationship between the Society and the healthcare industry, addressing these concerns. In formulating its policy, it became clear that the Society depended on healthcare industry support, gathered through journal advertising, fees for booths at its various educational events, and grants for speakers.

As noted In Part II of this series (CQ 1994;3:133–142), perhaps the most critical elements to define in deciding when treatment Is futile are the goals of therapy from, both the physician's and the patient's point of view. A patient's personal goals are based upon value system., life goals, and personal definition of “quality of life.” These personal goals must then be interpreted and applied in a reasonable and realistic fashion against what the physician has previously described as the legitimate, objective, and attainable therapeutic goals. As far as possible, both, parties must work together to eliminate the uncertainties in their discussion. The ideal situation includes a competent, alert patient and a prudent, caring physician who have had a long-term ongoing relationship. The key to collaboration is communication: a sincere interest in and professional concern for the patient; a willingness to be honest and open; a commitment to talk and to listen; an attempt to make one another feel comfortable in the collaboration; and an effort to recognize and to overcome barriers to communication, whether barriers are personal to either the patient or the physician or are professional, institutional, or societal.

Lillian T. is a 22-year-old woman with Down Syndrome. Cared for by her mother, she has lived all her life in the same small town and is a quiet, cooperative, and happy individual. Her main pleasures revolve around a steady routine that includes sewing in a sheltered workshop 5 days each week. She performs her own washing and dressing, makes simple meals for herself, and enjoys television.

Philosophy is generally considered to be very abstract. How philosophical and abstract Is ethical thinking In clinical situations? This paper sketches an answer In the form of a case study (I am the case) and offers me the chance for some self-reflection and readers the chance to eavesdrop on that self-reflection. Aside from any Intrinsic worth of the questions and answers, they also have Implications for how clinical ethicists should be educated or trained, i.e., how abstract should one's work in moral philosophy be?

For the past 3 years, since acquiring formal training in healthcare ethics and philosophy, I have been one of those physicians who “does” ethics. I teach medical students and residents, write articles, speak at conferences, chair an ethics committee, and informally consult with colleagues on cases where they request advice related to ethical issues in the care of patients. These activities have been a rewarding and challenging part of my practice. There has also been a fair amount of frustration. Unfortunately, both in teaching and patient care, it has been a frequent experience to finish a discussion with physicians only to be told that what I said was nice but had no bearing in the real world. In the words of a medical resident: 'You know, this ethics stuff is really a lot of crap, isn't it?'

The paper by Dr. Myles Sheehan “Why Doctors Hate Medical Ethics” (which would, I think, perhaps have been better entitled “Why Doctors in Training Hate Medical Ethics”) highlights some of the problems of teaching ethics to an extremely weary group of house officers who may look at ethics as a waste of time, as a requirement that must be overcome, or as “a lot of crap” Although Dr. Shee-han's paper offers a number of interesting and valuable insights, it really fails to say why residents hate the teaching of medical ethics any more than they may hate any other conference which, inevitably, intrudes on their time. In this response, I do not so much want to take issue with Sheehan's paper as to comment and to offer some of my own experiences teaching ethics. To do so, I am fully aware, may be regarded as matching anecdote with anecdote, a tiresome and ultimately futile process.

Has the private body of biethics become a microcosm of the body politic? Politics is ethics writ large. Ethics is politics writ small. However we turn it, the practice of bioethics is increasingly attuned to developments in public policy. The establishment of a “Health Policy Watch” in these pages is an invitation for research and reflection on these issues.

Bioethics Common Market is an international bulletin board to post notices regarding such things as networking contacts among people interested in a specific area of concern, hospitality, research underway for which collaboration is desired or possible, sources of scarce or hard-to-find materials, reports or papers available in sufficient numbers to share, textbooks or study materials desired, and, for travelers to any state or country, names of local people with possible common interests.