In this essay, the author reflects on a decade’s old essay on baseball and bioethics inspired by a conversation with the late David Thomasma. In a reprise of his earlier paper, Fins worries that modernity has come to baseball with the advent of the pitch clock and that this innovation brings age discrimination to a timeless pastime.

There are many authors who consider the so-called “moral nose” a valid epistemological tool in the field of morality. The expression was used by George Orwell, following in Friedrich Nietzsche’s footsteps and was very clearly described by Leo Tolstoy. It has also been employed by authors such as Elisabeth Anscombe, Bernard Williams, Noam Chomsky, Stuart Hampshire, Mary Warnock, and Leon Kass. This article examines John Harris’ detailed criticism of what he ironically calls the “olfactory school of moral philosophy.” Harris’ criticism is contrasted with Jonathan Glover’s defense of the moral nose. Glover draws some useful distinctions between the various meanings that the notion of moral nose can assume. Finally, the notion of moral nose is compared with classic notions such as Aristotelian phronesis, Heideggerian aletheia, and the concept of “sentiment” proposed by the philosopher Thomas Reid. The conclusion reached is that morality cannot be based only on reason, or—as David Hume would have it—only on feelings.

The role of power in healthcare can raise many ethical challenges. Power is ownership, whether given, ceded, or taken of another person’s autonomy. When a person has power over someone else, they can control or strongly influence the decision-making freedom of that person. From the principalist perspective1,2 of healthcare ethics, denying a person their freedom to choose, should only occur when justifying conditions related to beneficence and nonmaleficence are sufficiently satisfied. In healthcare, it is rare to be able to identify situations where paternalism is justified. However, experience suggests that abusive power in healthcare is used too frequently without justifying criteria.

In the wake of the Dobbs decision withdrawing federal constitutional protection for reproductive rights, the United States is in the throes of federalist conflicts. Some states are enacting draconian prohibitions of abortion or gender-affirming care, whereas other states are attempting to shield providers and their patients seeking care. This article explores standard arguments supporting federalism, including that it allows for cultural differences to remain along with a structure that provides for the advantages of common security and commerce, that it provides a laboratory for confined experiments, that it is government closer to the people and thus more informed about local needs and preferences, and that it creates layers of government that can constrain one another and thus doubly protect rights. We contend that these arguments do not justify significant differences among states with respect to the recognition of important aspects of well-being; significant injustices among subnational units cannot be justified by federalism. However, as nonideal theorists, we also observe that federalism presents the possibility of some states protecting rights that others do not. Assuming that movement among subnational units is protected, those who are fortunate enough to be able to travel will be able to access rights they cannot access at home. Nonetheless, movement may not be readily available to minors, people without documentation, people with disabilities, people who lack economic resources, or people who have responsibilities that preclude travel. Only rights protection at the federal level will suffice in such cases.

Poor health is not inherently a part of Black Americans’ bodies; poor health is not in our DNA. But as Linda Villarosa says in Under the Skin “something about being Black has led to the documented poor health of Black Americans.”1 Like many other scholars of Black health have said, Villarosa proposes, and evidence supports, that “the something is racism.”2 Villarosa attributes Black people’s generally inferior health outcomes in areas like pregnancy and birth, pain care, and cardiology to racism and not a lack of social resources such as money, education, and access to healthcare. Although not always explicitly stated in her text, the stories Villarosa uses to illustrate racism’s effects on health also demonstrate racism’s influence on who has access to the social resources that are needed to maintain health and treat illnesses. Villarosa is right that more education and more income cannot de facto give Black people better health. At the same time, we cannot ignore that although racism is the force, education, money, housing, and access to healthcare are the means by which racism adversely affects health. Education and other social goods only fail to confer better health to Black people because racism serves as a roadblock.

Current national and international guidelines for the ethical design and development of artificial intelligence (AI) and robotics emphasize ethical theory. Various governing and advisory bodies have generated sets of broad ethical principles, which institutional decisionmakers are encouraged to apply to particular practical decisions. Although much of this literature examines the ethics of designing and developing AI and robotics, medical institutions typically must make purchase and deployment decisions about technologies that have already been designed and developed. The primary problem facing medical institutions is not one of ethical design but of ethical deployment. The purpose of this paper is to develop a practical model by which medical institutions may make ethical deployment decisions about ready-made advanced technologies. Our slogan is “more process, less principles.” Ethically sound decisionmaking requires that the process by which medical institutions make such decisions include participatory, deliberative, and conservative elements. We argue that our model preserves the strengths of existing frameworks, avoids their shortcomings, and delivers its own moral, practical, and epistemic advantages.

Since its initial publication in 2018, Professor Anya Plutynski’s Explaining Cancer: Finding Order in Disorder has garnered a great deal of accolades.1 In 2021, The London School of Economics and Political Science conferred Professor Plutynski the Lakatos Award, recognizing the book’s significant contribution to the philosophy of science. On the heels of its recent reissuing as a paperback, it is an ideal time to revisit this remarkable work.

“Scleroderma,” the rheumatologist said after examining my stiff swollen arms and legs. “Unfortunately, given your biomarkers, it’s likely to get worse before it gets better, but you never know.” She gave a quick rundown of what I might expect—rapidly progressive skin and joint tightening, GI symptoms, high likelihood of multi-organ involvement…. “Let’s hope for the best.” She paused, then asked if I had any questions.

It took nearly two thousand years for society to recognize the Hippocratic insistence that “the doctor knows best”1 was an inadequate approach to medical decisionmaking. Today, patient-centered medicine has come to understand that the individual patient has a significant role in the decisionmaking process.2

This is a personal essay about breasts. It focuses on my experiences as a young girl, moving through adolescence to a history of breast cancer in my family, including my mother’s breast cancer diagnosis. As a physician, patient, and wife, I reflect on the choices that I have to make and what this means for my identity as a woman and mother.

We argued in a recent issue of this journal that if abortion is restricted,1 then there are parallel obligations for parents to donate body parts to their children. The strength of this obligation to donate is proportional to the strength of the abortion restrictions. If abortion is never permissible, then a parent must always donate any organ if they are a match. If abortion is sometimes permissible and sometimes not, then organ donation is sometimes obligatory and sometimes not. Our argument was based on the following ideas: (a) that a fetus has full moral status, (b) that parents have special obligations to their offspring, fetus or not, and (c) that this special obligation is to protect them. The result is the conclusion that abortion restrictivists cannot also consistently deny that organ donation should be compulsory.

Since its introduction in 1964, the World Medical Association’s Declaration of Helsinki—Ethical Principles for Medical Research Involving Human Subjects has enshrined the importance of safeguarding the well-being of human subjects in clinical research. The Declaration has undergone seven revisions, often in response to requests for clarification. I want to argue that the Declaration is in need of another revision in light of recent discoveries in placebo research.

Emily Carroll and Parker Crutchfield propose a new inconsistency argument against abortion restrictivism. In response, I raised several objections to their argument. Recently Carroll and Crutchfield have replied and seem to be under the impression that I’m a restrictivist. This is puzzling, since my criticism of their view included a very thinly veiled, but purposely more charitable, anti-restrictivist inconsistency argument. In this response, I explain how Carroll and Crutchfield mischaracterize my position and that of the restrictivist.

There is a certain sigh of relief—a sense of coming home—when encountering a concept that deeply reinforces a scholarly path that you have been on for over a decade, especially when that concept is better articulated than anything you have ever produced yourself. It was that home that I found in Vinciane Despret’s Living as a Bird. My mind perked up when I read, “if we are to sound like economists, there is also a price to be paid,”1 and then really connected with a sentence where she explains that in addition to being particularly punishing to read, studies of bird territories and territorialization, which are rooted in a clean, quantitative economics approach, have certain things that fail to be said, due to an “element of negligence.”2 Finally, she turns to a quotation by Bruno Latour that rang wonderfully true with a sense of where I have lived over the last several years:

In a recent issue of the Cambridge Quarterly of Healthcare Ethics, Emily Carroll and Parker Crutchfield published a paper entitled, “The Duty to Protect, Abortion, and Organ Donation.” They argued that a prohibition on abortion is morally equivalent to a positive mandate for parents to donate organs to their children and that opponents of abortion must be prepared to accept these mandates to remain consistent.