Michael Van Veen

Issue: Medical education has “muddy zones of practice,” areas of complexity and uncertainty that frustrate the achievement of our intended educational outcomes. Slowing down to consider context and reflect on practice are now seen as essential to medical education as we are called upon to examine carefully what we are doing to care for learners and improve their performance, professionalism, and well-being. Philosophy can be seen as the fundamental approach to pausing at times of complexity and uncertainty to ask basic questions about seemingly obvious practices so that we can see things in new ways. Evidence: Philosophy and medical education have long been related; many of our basic concepts can be traced to philosophical ideas. Philosophy is a problem-creation approach, and its method is analysis; it is a constant process of shifting frames and turning into objects of analysis the lenses through which we see the world. However, philosophy is not about constant questioning for the sake of questioning. Progression in medical education practice involves recognizing when to switch from a philosophical to a practical perspective, and when to switch back. Implications: In medical education, a philosophical approach empowers us to “slow down when we should,” thereby engaging us more directly with our subjects of study, revealing our assumptions, and helping us address vexing problems from a new angle. Doing philosophy involves thinking like a beginner, getting back to basics, and disrupting frames of reference. Being philosophical is about wonder and intense, childlike curiosity, human qualities we all share. Taking a philosophical approach to medical education need not be an unguided endeavor, but can be a dialog through which medical educators and philosophers learn together.

In medical education, we assess knowledge, skills, and a third category usually called values or attitudes. While knowledge and skills can be assessed, this third category consists of ‘beetles’, after the philosopher Wittgenstein’s beetle-in-a-box analogy. The analogy demonstrates that private experiences such as pain and hunger are inaccessible to the public, and that we cannot know whether we all experience them in the same way. In this paper, we claim that unlike knowledge and skills, private experiences of medical learners cannot be objectively measured, assessed, or directly accessed in any way. If we try to do this anyway, we risk reducing them to knowledge and skills—thereby making curriculum design choices based on what can be measured rather than what is valuable education, and rewarding zombie-like student behaviour rather than authentic development. We conclude that we should no longer use the model of representation to assess attitudes, emotions, empathy, and other beetles. This amounts to, first of all, shutting the d.

This is an empirical study of the way in which celiac disease patients manage the risk of gluten intake in their everyday life.The article examines naturally occurring conversational data in order to study how patients cope interactionally with constantly being at risk in their day-to-day living. They reject quitting the diet as a valid option, and instead construct a ‘diet world’ in which dietary transgression is presented as an integrated part of everyday life. In this way, patients can manage occasional diet lapses without putting the validity of the diet itself at stake. By examining how the gluten-free diet is treated in interaction, we find out more about the pre-existing everyday strategies that have to be taken into account when new therapies are being introduced