Journal of the History of Medicine and Allied Sciences最新文献

This article examines the place of emotion in modern hospital administration and the relationship between professional identities and emotional landscapes in the healthcare field. The focus is a broad emotional and philosophical investment that many administrators made in their work. In the United States and then in Britain, amidst rapid change in the practice and provision of health services, a new sense of professional identity emerged. This was often underpinned by a kind of emotional investment, one which had to be constructed and cultivated. Here formal training and education, collective identities, and a shared understanding of the kind of personal qualities required were important. The extent to which developments in Britain were influenced by best practice in the US is also striking. This process might best be understood as the further drawing out of established beliefs and ways of working rather than an abstract transfer of ideas and practices across the Atlantic, but there was a distinct Anglo-American dimension to the development of hospital administration.

For some post-Roe abortion providers, the emotional cost of their abortion practice was untenable. By the 1980s, former abortion providers had become prominent anti-abortion advocates. Although physicians such as Beverly McMillan grounded their pro-life conversions in medical technologies and "fetological" research, affective connections to the fetus animated their activism. McMillan explained that through abortion practice, the medical profession - her vocation - had gone astray, and her pro-life activism was the cure to the resulting emotional damage. For these physicians, emotional well-being could only be recovered through principled attempts to right the perceived wrongs of the medical profession. Another group of emotionally-engaged pro-life health workers emerged from their pasts as abortion patients. Myriad post-abortion narratives followed the same trajectory: the woman reluctantly underwent an abortion, and was subsequently plagued by apathy, depression, grief, guilt, and substance-use disorders. Pro-life research came to understand this cluster of symptoms as Post-abortion Syndrome (PAS). Some women, such as Susan Stanford-Rue, opted to heal from their pain by becoming PAS counselors. Just as the "reformed" physicians combined their affective experiences with their medical expertise to argue against abortion, the counselors merged emotion and psychiatric language to redefine what it meant to be an "aborted woman" and therefore a PAS counselor. Examining pro-life publications, Christian counseling manuals, and activist speeches, this article argues that, for these activists, science and technology provided the rationale to make abortion unthinkable, but it was the activists' emotional framework that made this rationale pro-life in the first place.

Colonial officials remarked disparagingly about the nature of houses and what they presented as congested layouts in Gold Coast communities. Subsequently, drawing on nineteenth-century epidemiological theory that connected diseases and poor health to defective housing and congested settlements, the colonial administration introduced measures to redesign and reorder Gold Coast communities. This article examines the connection between colonial town planning and housing measures and the politics of sanitation and public health in the Gold Coast. It argues that the colonial state's imposition of imported British town planning measures, building techniques, and housing styles in the Gold Coast and their aspiration to compel Gold Coast people to build and pattern their communities along so-called sanitary lines could not be fully realised. Thus, the extent to which colonial town planning and the accompanying transformations in African building styles improved sanitation and consequently, public health, is difficult to determine. Nonetheless, this study reveals that the local population's holistic approaches to spatial designing and planning of their communities and their building styles were somewhat altered by the colonial imposition of eurocentric town planning policies and building styles.

This article analyses how the French Academy of Sciences assessed Jaime Ferrán's cholera vaccine submitted for the Prix Bréant in the 1880s. Ferrán, a Spanish independent physician, discovered the treatment in 1884 and tried it on thousands of patients during the cholera outbreak in Valencia the following year. His evaluation sparked a controversy in Spain and abroad on the vaccine's efficacy. The Bréant jury did not see any evidence for it in Ferrán's submission, a decision usually interpreted in terms of French scientific nationalism (or simple chauvinism): an outsider from the scientific periphery could not be awarded the Bréant. Drawing on the archival records of the award, we suggest that Ferrán failed instead to provide data that the Academy could consider unbiased, according to the contemporary standards for data presentation. We will illustrate these standards at work in the assessment of another submission from Spain, by Philip Hauser, who received the Bréant for the thoroughness of his statistical endeavour.