Jamie Nelson

How ought we to understand the sources and limits of the authority of family members to make health care decisions for their decisionally incapacitated relatives? This question is becoming increasingly crucial as the population ages and the power of medical technology waxes. It is also becoming increasingly contested, as faith in advance directives shows signs of waning, and the moral complexities of intimate relationship become more theoretically patent.This last point—the newly visible moral richness of intimate relationship—provides this paper with its field. I am interested in probing the images of the relationship between self and other, particularly self and intimate other, that seem presupposed by some leading attempts to determine the basis for proxy decision-making authority, and what constraints it must observe. In the light of both recent work in the philosophy of mind and considerations closer to common experience, the reigning images seem too slight to support the weight of current practices and beliefs about proxy authority; supplanting them with images more faithful to our experience will have implications for our practice with proxies.

Surrogate motherhood-at least if carefully structured to protect the interests of the women involved-seems defensible along standard liberal lines which place great stress on free agreements as moral bedrocks. But feminist theories have tended to be suspicious about the importance assigned to this notion by mainstream ethics, and in this paper, we develop implications of those suspicions for surrogacy. We argue that the practice is inconsistent with duties parents owe to children and that it compromises the freedom of surrogates to perform their share of those duties. Standard liberal perspectives tend to be insensitive to such considerations; we propose a view which takes more seriously the moral importance of the causal relationship between parents and children, and which therefore illuminates rather than obscures the stake that women and children have in surrogacy.

The article by Professor Baergen and Dr. Woodhouse makes a succinct and serious contribution to progress in bioethical understanding of deciding for others. They begin with what is by now a familiar claim: family proxy decision makers may sometimes make decisions on behalf of incapacitated relatives that depart from what might be optimal from the patient’s point of view, since the well-being of family members, or of the family as such, may be substantially affected by the direction of a patient’s care. They then develop this idea, noting that others apart from family members can also be substantially affected by a patient’s treatment, and arguing that the interests of strangers ought also to sometimes have a role in determining the aims and means of a patient’s treatment.Baergen and Woodhouse also devote attention to how extra-familial interests might be implemented in medical decision making. While I unearth a troubling consequence of the effort to realize their theoretical conclusion practically, my chief task is to point to some disanalogies between families and strangers, and consider the extent to which they call into question the relevance of the interests of strangers to the treatment of patients.

In her final fragmentary novel Sanditon, Jane Austen develops a theme that pervades her work from her juvenilia onward: illness, and in particular, illness imagined, invented, or self-inflicted. While the “invention of odd complaints” is characteristically a token of folly or weakness throughout her writing, in this last work imagined illness is also both a symbol and a cause of how selves and societies degenerate. In the shifting world of Sanditon, hypochondria is the lubricant for a society bent on turning health into a commodity. As a result, people’s rationality and their moral character come under attack. Catherine Belling’s recent subtle study, A Condition of Doubt: The Meanings of Hypochondria, unveils hypochondria’s discursive and cultural character. Running sharply against the tenor of Austen’s treatment, however, she argues in defense of the rationality of hypochondriacs; the notion that the condition may involve morally significant defects is not entertained; any connection to the commercialization of health care is muted. Here, I contrast Austen’s morally and epistemically negative rendering of her hypochondriacal characters in Sanditon with Belling’s efforts to create a sympathetic understanding of people with hypochondria. I will argue that, despite time gaps and genre differences, joint consideration of these texts can help bioethicists better appreciate how medicine can intensify, pathologize, and exploit anxieties about illness and death, thus adding to the challenges of living well in the face of mortality and morbidity

Mary Ann Meeker’s article admirably reminds readers that family members are involved in—or “responsively manage”—the care of relatives with severe illness in ways that run considerably beyond the stereotypes at play in many bioethical discussions of advance directives. Her observations thus make thinking about the role of families in healthcare provision more adequate to the facts, and this is an important contribution. There’s reason to be worried, however, that one explicit aim of the article—to ease the standing anxieties that many clinicians and ethicists have about the reliability of family members as proxy decision makers—will be frustrated by its very success. Those already inclined to suspicion may tend to think that the more intricate and pervasive the ways in which families influence the healthcare decision making of their sick, the more chances they have for altering the connection between patients’ interests and the actions of professional providers.To determine whether and when such alterations are something to be concerned about, we’ll need to supplement a better grasp of the pertinent facts with a deeper sense of how human agency works and why we value it. We may also need some reminders about the defensibility of diverse moral understandings. Although both professionals and family members may profess an ethic that sets patients’ interests above those of non-patients—as Meeker’s own results suggest—any strict allegiance to such a framework may be more notional than normative—as her findings also hint. The actual working norms (among professionals, as well as within families) will likely be more complex, but not necessarily any the less defensible for that.

As a way of contributing to bioethics' understanding of itself, and, more particularly, to invigorate conversation about how we can best educate future colleagues, we present here a sketch of the quarter-century-old graduate concentration in medical ethics housed in the Department of Philosophy at the University of Tennessee, Knoxville. Our hope is to incite other programs to share their histories, strategies, problems, and aspirations, so as to help the field as a whole get a clearer sense of how we are putting together our future, and of how we might best go about this important job

Both of the main points in Professor Murphy's paper seem to me clearly and effectively argued.1 It is incontrovertible that some people find hurtful the use of medical technologies to avoid the birth of children who, in the present order of things, would be disabled. No result from the philosophy of language, or anywhere else for that matter, can plausibly show otherwise. Indeed, even to speak of ‘legitimately interpreting’ events that cause one pain as ‘hurtful’, as Murphy does, seems a shade too conciliatory to any who has the temerity to doubt this matter: typically, at least, I don't interpret a state of affairs as hurtful. I experience it so—or not.He's quite right to point out as well that the fact that someone's actions cause another to feel hurt does not, on its own, imply much of anything about the action's propriety. There are many serious people who are deeply distressed by others' reproductive choices that have nothing to do with disability: terminating a pregnancy for any reason causes some people considerable pain. Yet there seems no reason whatever to regard that pain, considered on its own, as a reason that—at least in general terms—should bear on a person's decision concerning whether or not to give birth to the fetus that she is gestating.Expressivist arguments, so understood, then, seem to have had their measure taken. If anyone had the temerity to think that no one is hurt by choices to avoid or end pregnancies because they might lead to the birth of a child who would be disabled, they can drop that thought right now. On the other hand, if someone thought that the hurt suffered by such people constitutes a serious reason for restricting what others can find out about their potential or actual pregnancies, or …