Lainie Ross

In August 2000, Arthur Matas and his colleagues de scribed a protocol in which their institution began to accept as potential donors, individuals who came to the University of Minnesota hospital offering to donate a kidney to any patient on the waiting list. Matas and his colleagues refer to these donors as nondirected donors by which is meant that the donors are altruistic and that they give their organs to an unspecified pool of recipients with whom they have no emotional relationship. This paper represents an ethical and policy critique of the nondirected donation protocol that was implemented at the University of Minnesota in August 1999. Specifically, I address the ethical questions: Whether altruistic living solid organ donations by strangers should be permitted? And if so, What are appropriate ethical guidelines for such donations?

The main value of carrier detection in the general population is to determine reproductive risks. In this manuscript I examine the practice of providing carrier screening programs in the school setting. While the data show that high school screening programs can achieve high uptake, I argue that this may reflect a lack of full understanding about risks, benefits, and alternatives, and the right not to know. It may also reflect the inherent coercion in group testing, particularly for adolescents who are prone to peer pressure. The problem of carrier screening in the schools is compounded when the condition has a predilection for certain groups based on race, ethnicity or religion. I examine programs around the world that seek to test high school students for Tay Sachs and Cystic Fibrosis carrier status. I argue that carrier programs should be designed so as to minimize stigma and to allow individuals to refuse. The mandatory school environment cannot achieve this. Rather, I conclude that screening programs should be designed to attract young adults and not adolescents to participate in a more voluntary venue

The term “exceptionalism” was introduced into health care in 1991 when Bayer described “HIV exceptionalism” as the policy of treating the human immunodeficiency virus different from other infectious diseases, particularly other sexually transmitted diseases. It was reflected in the following practices: pre- and post-HIV test counseling, the development of specific separate consent forms for HIV testing, and stringent requirements for confidentiality of HIV test results. The justification for these practices was the belief that testing was essential for prevention and that patients might not seek HIV testing if confidentiality were not guaranteed. Confidentiality was believed to be particularly important given the degree of discrimination and stigmatization associated with the illness. Anonymous testing was a further step in ensuring strict confidentiality, even though such a practice prevented public officials from contacting partners and others who were at risk.

This essay reflects on arguments by Paul Ramsey, in The Patient as Person: Explorations in Medical Ethics (1970) and elsewhere, that continue to challenge policy‐makers and those doing clinical and translational research involving children. Ramsey argued that parents cannot morally authorize their child's participation in research unless the research is designed to benefit the child. He acknowledged that abiding by this position could have adverse impacts on improving child health, and he concluded, in a 1976 Hastings Center Report piece, that researchers must “sin bravely.” Many philosophers and theologians, including Richard McCormick, have argued against Ramsey. The Ramsey‐McCormick debate played out in the bioethics literature and, by invitation, at the deliberations of the National Commission for the Protection of Human Subjects of Biomedical and Behavioral Research, which was tasked with developing an ethics framework and policies for human subjects protections. Although in its final recommendations, the commission sided with McCormick, the strict limitations on risks and harms to which a child can be exposed were clearly influenced by Ramsey.

To promote informed reproductive decisions, prenatal carrier testing is offered to women and couples to provide information about the risk of having a child with one or more genetic conditions. Tay Sachs Disease was one of the first conditions for which prenatal carrier testing was developed. Today, many additional conditions can be tested for, depending on prospective parental interest, family history, or ethnicity. Interestingly, most individuals and couples do not request prenatal carrier information prior to conception, and carrier testing early in gestation allows only a narrow set of reproductive options. Programs have been designed to increase preconception testing, with variable success. One of the more successful attempts to increase preconception carrier testing uptake internationally has been to offer it to adolescents in high schools.

I argue that parents ought to be allowed to authorize their child's participation as an organ donor for another family member. I introduce a model of decisionmaking for children in intimate families which I call Constrained Parental Autonomy. This model permits wide parental discretion which is constrained absolutely by a broadly defined principle of respect for persons. In general, parental authorization alone is sufficient but I argue that the respect for persons constraint prevents certain donations and requires the child's assent for other donations. I also consider two controversial implications of the application of this model: the objection that the model does not respect the child's right to bodily integrity, and the objection that the model does not and is unable to address intrafamilial disgreement.

A couple and their five‐year‐old daughter are in a car accident. The parents are not expected to survive. The child is transported to a children's hospital, and urgent treatment decisions must be made. Whom should the attending physician approach to make decisions for the child? When such cases arise in, for example, the hospitals where we work, the social worker or chaplain is instructed to use the Illinois Health Care Surrogacy Act as a guidepost to identify a decision‐maker. But in our state and the country overall, the limitations of such statutes leave hospital workers to make a judgment call among friends, family, and clergy who may come forward. While surrogate decision‐making statutes comprehensively address surrogate decision‐makers for adults, a patchwork of laws—permanency statutes, kinship provider statutes, standby guardianship statutes, and, in some cases, surrogate decision‐making statutes—provide variable decision‐making pathways for children.

In this issue of The Journal of Clinical Ethics, Professor Ruth Tallman argues that pediatricians ought to support adolescent football players in their athletic goals. She does not deny that doing so means “helping children hurt themselves”; rather she argues that this would be consistent with a shared decision-making model in which both the physician and the patient seek to promote the patient’s well-being in light of the patient’s own goals. I argue that this ignores the role of the parents, meaning that Tallman is suggesting “helping parents allow their children to hurt themselves.” As a general pediatrician, I would classify this as child neglect, if not downright child abuse. I argue that pediatricians should counsel directively against youth tackle football, employ a deliberative approach to shared decision making within the triadic doctorpatient- parent relationship, and support youth sport policies that seek to reduce traumatic brain injury by advocating for flag football, by prohibiting checking in boys’ ice hockey, and by minimizing heading the ball in soccer below a certain age.

Controversies surrounding the determination of death by neurologic criteria (DNC), also known as brain death, have become increasingly common over the last decade, occasionally leading to parental refusal of all or part of an evaluation or declaration of DNC. We performed a prospective, crosssectional study of pediatric neurologists and intensivists who participate in professional listservs to ascertain perspectives and practices concerning the evaluation of DNC, specifically on obtaining permission for evaluations and managing refusals. Of the 334 respondents who had performed an evaluation for DNC, 35 percent reported they had experienced at least one parental refusal, and 64.4 percent reported that they did not seek permission to perform an evaluation. Pediatric neurologists, careproviders who had less experience doing evaluations, and careproviders who had experienced parental refusal of an evaluation were more likely to obtain permission from parents. Most (80.8 percent) of respondents reported that their institution had a DNC policy. We found variability in many aspects of DNC evaluations and declarations, as well as the handling of refusals. Lack of consistency may make it more difficult for careproviders and families. Greater understanding of parental refusal of DNC evaluation is essential to inform efforts to increase consistency.

Decision making for children who suffer abusive head trauma invokes multiple ethical considerations. The degree to which parents are permitted to participate in decision making after the injury has occurred is controversial. In particular, in this issue of The Journal of Clinical Ethics, Grigorian and colleagues raise concerns about the potential for conflict of interest in end-of-life decision making if the parents are facing criminal charges that could be escalated if the child dies. There are additional concerns about the parents’ capacity to make decisions that are best for the child, given that the injury occurred. We argue that there are important reasons not to exclude parents from the decision-making process and that, with appropriate safeguards in place, parents are integral to determining what is best for the child.

More than 24,000 patients await organ transplants and the number is increasing yearly. Living donors are an important source of transplant organs. In this paper, I argue that we can morally justify allowing children to serve as donors. Yet, I also argue that their participation must be restricted in order to prevent their exploitation.The paper is divided into six sections. In the first section, I show why the traditional principles of personal autonomy and beneficence are not adequate morally to justify the participation of children in the nontherapeutic role of organ donor. Next, I argue that the moral justification of the child’s participation must be based on the intimate family relationship which permits activities that would be unacceptable in the public domain. In the third section, I argue that family autonomy ought to be limited by the principle of respect for persons. In the fourth section, I propose five principles to guide the participation of children as organ donors. In section five, I discuss the role of the child in the decision-making process. In section six, I critically examine the criteria for equity in donor selection.

Testa and colleagues argue that evaluation for suitability for living donor surgery is rooted in paternalism in contrast with the evaluation for most operative interventions which is rooted in the autonomy of patients. We examine two key ethical concepts that Testa and colleagues use: paternalism and autonomy, and two related ethical concepts, moral agency and shared decision making. We show that moving the conversation from paternalism, negative autonomy and informed consent to moral agency, relational autonomy and shared decision making, one better understands why the arguments give by Testa and colleagues fail.

In their thoughtful critiques of my article “Better than Best (Interest Standard) in Pediatric Decision Making,” my colleagues make clear that there is little consensus on what is (are) the appropriate guidance and intervention principles in pediatric decision making, and disagree about whether one principle can serve both functions. Hester proposes his own unitary principle, the reasonable interest standard, which, like the best interest standard from which it is derived, encourages parents to aim for the great, although Hester tempers it with a pragmatic principle that allows consideration of cultural/family values and practical/financial/social/psychological circumstances. I reject the aspirational guidance principle because it is too demanding, and I also reject the notion that this pragmatic condition “gives permission for others to extol parents to give reasons” for their decisions, because it allows too much interference into the family and its decision making. Whereas the other respondents and I focus on whether and when third parties should intervene in the doctor-patient (surrogate) relationship, Navin and Wasserman mistakenly redefine intervention to include physicians’ behaviors that attempt to influence parents, ignoring the integral role of shared decision making—a bidirectional discussion in which physicians help patients (surrogates) select among reasonable medical options through education, and, when necessary, motivation or persuasion. Diekema and Salter focus on the harm principle for intervention, ignoring other conditions when intervention may be appropriate and institutions other than the state that may intervene. Paquette’s overly narrow interpretation of who has positive obligations to children fails to ensure their basic interests and needs are met. Finally, Bester claims the “need to choose the available option that best promotes or protects the child’s basic interests” is akin to a focus on best interest. But constrained parental autonomy does not require parents to choose the option that best promotes their child’s basic interests. Rather, it requires respect for broad parental discretion about how they raise their child unless their decisions fail to promote the child’s basic needs and interests.