One of the animating beliefs of British health service reformers in the first half of the twentieth century was that delivery would improve if greater co-ordination was imposed over disparate providers. The fundamental divisions were between the voluntary, public and private sectors. Voluntary provision predominantly meant acute care hospitals, but also included a range of other therapeutic and clinical services. The public sector delivered general practitioner (GP) services to insured workers through the state national health insurance (NHI) scheme, while the remit of local government covered environmental health, isolation and general hospitals and a wide range of personal services addressing tuberculosis, venereal diseases, mental illness, and maternity and child welfare. Finally, the private sector provided nursing homes and GP attendance at commercial rates. Within each area there were tendencies towards independent rather than co-operative working. Voluntary hospitals often lacked any mechanism for conferring with neighbouring institutions and the competitive logic of fund-raising enforced an individualistic ethic. In the public sector health responsibilities were dispersed across various agencies: local authority health committees, advised by the county or borough Medical Officer of Health (MOH), oversaw sanitation, hospitals and personal health services; education committees were responsible for the School Medical Service (SMS), whose remit was the compulsory medical inspection and treatment of elementary schoolchildren; the Poor Law provided institutional care either in workhouses or separate infirmaries, although after the 1929 Local Government Act the boards of guardians were broken up; their powers were then transferred to the public assistance committees of local authorities, however these remained distinct from health committees. GP services accessed through the state NHI system were overseen by local insurance committees separate from local government. Private practice co-existed with NHI and doctors tended to prioritize fee-paying rather than panel patients.

This paper explores the history of the ‘psychoprophylactic method of painless childbirth’ in socialist Czechoslovakia, in particular, in the Czech and Moravian regions of the country, showing that it substantially differs from the course that the method took in other countries. This non-pharmacological method of pain relief originated in the USSR and became well known as the Lamaze method in western English-speaking countries. Use of the method in Czechoslovakia, however, followed a very different path from both the West, where its use was refined mainly outside the biomedical frame, and the USSR, where it ceased to be pursued as a scientific method in the 1950s after Stalin’s death. The method was imported to Czechoslovakia in the early 1950s and it was politically promoted as Soviet science’s gift to women. In the 1960s the method became widespread in practice but research on it diminished and, in the 1970s, its use declined too. However, in the 1980s, in the last decade of the Communist regime, the method resurfaced in the pages of Czechoslovak medical journals and underwent an exciting renaissance, having been reintroduced by a few enthusiastic individuals, most of them women. This article explores the background to the renewed interest in the method while providing insight into the wider social and political context that shaped socialist maternity and birth care in different periods.

In his personal notebooks, the little known Bohemian physician Georg Handsch (1529–c. 1578) recorded, among other things, hundreds of vernacular phrases and expressions he and other physicians used in their oral interaction with patients and families. Based primarily on this extraordinary source, this paper traces the terms, concepts and images to which sixteenth-century physicians resorted when they explained the nature of a patient’s disease and justified their treatment. At the bedside and in the consultation room, Handsch and his fellow physicians attributed most diseases to a local accumulation of impure, putrid or otherwise pathological humours. The latter were commonly said to result, in turn, from an insufficient concoction and assimilation of food and drink in the stomach and the liver or from an obstruction of the humoral flow inside the body and across its borders. By contrast, other notions and explanatory models, which had a prominent place in contemporary learned medical writing, hardly played a role at all in the physicians’ oral communication. Specific disease terms were rarely used, a mere imbalance of the four natural humours in the body was almost never inculpated, and the patient’s personal life-style and other non-naturals did not attract much attention either. These striking differences between the ways in which physicians explained the patients’ diseases in their daily practice and the explanatory models we find in contemporary textbooks, are attributed, above all, to the physicians’ precarious situation in the early modern medical marketplace. Since dissatisfied patients were quick to turn to another healer, physicians had to explain the disease and justify their treatment in a manner that was comprehensible to ordinary lay people and in line with their expectations and beliefs, which, at the time, revolved almost entirely around notions of impurity and evacuation.

The knowledge and interpretation of the practice of anatomy in the Renaissance have recently undergone a profound change. To a large extent, this is the result of new directions taken in the social and cultural history of medicine since the late 1970s. In the last decade, several important works have been published, which are undeniable evidence of this historiographical change. However, there has as yet been no attempt to produce a synthetic view of all this new work, in which there is not always agreement. Such a synthesis would undoubtedly produce an interpretation of Renaissance anatomy very different from the traditional one.

The twentieth-century history of men and women’s attempts to gain access to reproductive health services in the Republic of Ireland has been significantly shaped by Ireland’s social and religious context. Although contraception was illegal in Ireland from 1935 to 1979, declining family sizes in this period suggest that many Irish men and women were practising fertility control measures. From the mid-1960s, the contraceptive pill was marketed in Ireland as a ‘cycle regulator’. In order to obtain a prescription for the pill, Irish women would therefore complain to their doctors that they had heavy periods or irregular cycles. However, doing so could mean going against one’s faith, and also depended on finding a sympathetic doctor. The contraceptive pill was heavily prescribed in Ireland during the 1960s and 1970s as it was the only contraceptive available legally, albeit prescribed through ‘coded language’. The pill was critiqued by men and women on both sides of the debate over the legalisation of contraception. Anti-contraception activists argued that the contraceptive pill was an abortifacient, while both anti-contraception activists and feminist campaigners alike drew attention to its perceived health risks. As well as outlining these discussions, the paper also illustrates the importance of medical authority in the era prior to legalisation, and the significance of doctors’ voices in relation to debates around the contraceptive pill. However, in spite of medical authority, it is clear that Irish women exercised significant agency in gaining access to the pill.