Contagious diseases were among the most vexing problems in ancient theories of health, which could not easily account for how a corruption of one person's humors could cause a similar corruption in another's. One useful explanatory concept for Renaissance doctors tackling this theoretical gap was the phenomenon of resonance or "sympathetic vibration" - where one stationary string begins to vibrate spontaneously when a similarly tuned string is plucked nearby - as both resonance and contagion involved some mysterious, insensible action at a distance between an agent and a patient. Tracing the writings of Marsilio Ficino, Girolamo Fracastoro, and Girolamo Cardano, this essay explores the relationships between the writers' accounts of sympathetic vibrations and their contagion theories. It argues that different conceptions of the acoustic phenomenon - either as a manifestation of a Neo-Platonic World-Soul that underpinned the universe or else as a physical effect - revealed the writers' cosmological views that, in turn, informed their accounts of the human body and disease.
At the end of the nineteenth century, the advent of x-ray machines fueled American medicine's reliance on technology, transforming hospitals and the medical profession. X-ray manufacturers pursued the nascent hospital market as competition and patent feuds accelerated x-ray machine modifications. Hospitals incorporated clunky new machines and employed x-ray photographers, but as the unruly apparatus stabilized, physicians joining the new specialty of radiology discounted the toils of machine troubleshooting and promoted their medically qualified x-ray interpretations. This article frames early medical radiography in terms of boundary work, highlighting how discourse among physicians, x-ray photographers, and hospital administrators vied to establish a privileged demarcation between radiological science and photographic craft. Ultimately, radiologists supplanted x-ray photographers by leveraging the automation of x-ray machines and capitalizing on the epistemic shift from photographic objectivity to qualified interpretations. By focusing on this overlooked aspect of x-ray incorporation into hospitals, this work provides a unique perspective on how harnessing mechanization and authoritative medical interpretations can shift professional boundaries.
This paper reexamines the public memory of Canadian surgeon Norman Bethune. In 1938, Bethune traveled to China to serve at the communist front and to treat soldiers fighting against the invading Japanese army. Throughout China, Bethune is a household name and a communist icon. Back in Canada, however, his name does not evoke the same ubiquity. While Canadians remembered Bethune through biographies, a film, statues, and a small museum, his story in the Anglophone world is confined primarily to the telling of distant history. To explain Bethune's greater notoriety and public presence in China, this essay first turns our attention to Chinese sources that mythologized Bethune's death in 1939. The essay then revisits Chinese propaganda that established Bethune as a lasting political symbol during the Cultural Revolution in the 1960s and 1970s. These national efforts show how a volunteer surgeon such as Bethune became such an important figure in a remote foreign country. China's Communist Party turned Bethune's death into a political event to rally support for their war of resistance against Japan. Later, during the tumultuous period of the Cultural Revolution, Mao Zedong used Bethune to symbolize unwavering service and loyalty to leader and party. This essay utilizes primary materials in McGill's Osler Library and commentary from the field of memory studies to contextualize Bethune and to situate him within the broader narrative of political education that arose in China during the Cultural Revolution. A layered interpretation of Bethune - as doctor, martyr, and symbolic hero - slowly emerges. Political forces in China transformed his memory into legacy and carry this complicated figure into the present day.
This article analyzes the history of immunization against tick-borne encephalitis (TBE) and specifically the processes that led to the creation and application of TBE vaccines in the Soviet Union and Austria. Rather than presenting the development of TBE vaccines from the perspective of national scientific schools, the article investigates their history as a transnational project, focusing on the connections among the Soviet Union, Czechoslovakia, Austria, the United States, and the United Kingdom. It argues that biomedical research on TBE was profoundly intertwined with political and military agendas and depended on civil international cooperation as well as Soviet, American, and British military concerns, infrastructures and funding. The article consists of four parts that discuss (1) the identification of the TBE virus and the creation of the first TBE vaccine in the Soviet Union in the 1930s; (2) the internationalization of TBE research and vaccine development in the 1940s-1960s; (3) the history of TBE research and virology in Austria in the 1930s-1960s and the role of the US military funding; and (4) the cooperation of Austrian virologist Christian Kunz with the Microbiological Research Establishment Porton Down in the UK leading to the development of the Austrian/British vaccine against TBE in the 1970s.
The emergence of the neurosurgical patient as a novel clinical entity in the Netherlands was marked by a lingering conflict between neurologists and neurosurgeons, in which both types of specialists sought to assume the clinical and institutional leadership of neurosurgical patient care. In the 1920s and 1930s, neurologists had facilitated the establishment of the first generation of neurosurgeons in the country, and in the process, had managed to clinically and institutionally subordinate neurosurgery to neurology. As the demand for neurosurgical patient care grew, the neurosurgeons began to challenge this hegemonic relationship. The neurologists, however, were unwilling to give up their control, fearing that they would be bypassed in the diagnosis of patients eligible to neurosurgery. These conflicting aims and interests resulted in an intricate demarcation battle, in which the boundary work between neurologists and neurosurgeons was directly played out at the local workplace and at the meetings of the Study Club for Neuro-Surgery, and indirectly at various other sites of contestation, such as medical journals and academic lecture halls, as both parties sought to rally external stakeholders to their cause. During these negotiations, local, national, and international forces increasingly intertwined to shape the particular organization of Dutch neurosurgery in the middle of the twentieth century. By analyzing this multilayered demarcation process, this article draws attention to the complexity of medical boundary work, and to the way in which, despite pervasive international influences, specialist practice was ultimately negotiated at the local and national levels.
Penitentiary systems serve as breeding grounds for all kinds of diseases. Drawing upon new archival materials, this article examines the history of the management and reporting of epidemics in the Russian prison system from the late Imperial period to the present day. We use the case studies of cholera (1892-1893), typhus (1932-1933), and pulmonary tuberculosis (the 1990s) to examine how the general political and social conjuncture at different times affected the response of prison authorities to epidemics to show that, notwithstanding major shifts in society and polity, there was continuity in the management of epidemics by prison authorities in the long twentieth century. However, there were fundamental discrepancies in the way late Imperial, Soviet, and post-Soviet Russia reported epidemiological emergencies in prisons. We argue that Russia's tumultuous past has reinforced the tendency among the Russian penal administration towards a lack of transparency that has persisted to the present day, in relation to the latest, COVID-19, epidemic.
This study explores the troubling and unintended consequences of public health efforts to address the problem of juvenile delinquency and feeblemindedness. Health care professionals, superintendents, and other authority figures equated undesirable juvenile behaviors such as keeping "bad company" or "falling in with the wrong crowd," truancy, and petty theft with poor breeding, low intelligence, and inheritable criminal tendencies. This article interrogates historical documentation culled from the Kansas State Historical Society (KSHS) and focuses on a few specific cases to reveal the ways a patriarchal political and medical state system both protected and alienated young woman accused of a myriad of behavior issues including delinquency, incorrigibility, and feeblemindedness. I highlight the lives of juvenile women sentenced to the Beloit Industrial School for Girls not simply to better understand an isolated period in United States history but also reproduction. The broader implications of the narratives of girls housed at the Beloit Industrial School for Girls throughout the first half of the twentieth century in Kansas reveal troubling and unintended consequences of public health efforts to fix the problems of delinquency, contagion, and the generational inheritance of undesirable characteristics.
In the standard story of the rise of professional authority in medicine in the 1920s, state medical licensing boards were partners in a coalition, led by the American Medical Association, to radically improve medical education. Boards obtained state laws that limited admission to licensing examinations to graduates of schools approved by the AMA, thus bringing about the rapid demise of low-quality schools by about 1925. The reality at the state level was quite different, however. Medical examining boards containing homeopaths, eclectics, and sometimes osteopaths could be far from reliable partners. Passing laws to benefit the medical profession was exceedingly difficult and dependent on local medical politics. Through the lens of a major medical diploma mill scandal revealed by a journalist in 1923, this paper examines reform efforts in three states greatly affected by the scandal: Missouri, where the scandal originated, Connecticut, and Massachusetts. In each of these states, graduates of low-quality schools as well as fake doctors from diploma mills were able to take a state examination and practice. This paper argues that the AMA, far from being the major player in the elimination of inadequate schools, could set standards but had to stay on the sidelines.