Hastings Center Report最新文献

Strategies to address misinformation and hesitancy about vaccines, including the fear of needles, and to overcome obstacles to access, such as the refrigeration that some vaccines demand, strongly suggest the need to develop new vaccine delivery technologies. But, given widespread distrust surrounding vaccination, these new technologies must be introduced to the public with the utmost transparency, care, and community involvement. Two emerging technologies, one a skin-patch vaccine and the other a companion dye and detector, provide excellent examples of greatly improved delivery technologies for which such a careful approach should be developed in order to increase vaccine uptake. Defusing fears and conspiracy mongering must be a key part of their rollout.

Patient narratives from two investigational deep brain stimulation trials for traumatic brain injury and obsessive-compulsive disorder reveal that injury and illness rob individuals of personal identity and that neuromodulation can restore it. The early success of these interventions makes a compelling case for continued post-trial access to these technologies. Given the centrality of personal identity to respect for persons, a failure to provide continued access can be understood to represent a metaphorical identity theft. Such a loss recapitulates the pain of an individual's initial injury or illness and becomes especially tragic because it could be prevented by robust policy. A failure to fulfill this normative obligation constitutes a breach of disability law, which would view post-trial access as a means to achieve social reintegration through this neurotechnological accommodation.

Social isolation and loneliness are growing concerns around the globe that put people at increased risk of disease and early death. One much-touted approach to addressing them is deploying artificially intelligent agents to serve as companions for socially isolated and lonely people. Focusing on digital humans, we consider evidence and ethical arguments for and against this approach. We set forth and defend public health policies that respond to concerns about replacing humans, establishing inferior relationships, algorithmic bias, distributive justice, and data privacy.

Data infrastructure includes the bureaucratic, technical, and social mechanisms that assist in actions like data management, analysis, storage, and sharing. While issues like data sharing have been addressed in depth in bioethical literature, data infrastructure presents its own ethical considerations, apart from the actions (such as data sharing and data analysis) that it enables. This essay outlines some of these considerations—namely, the ethics of efficiency, the visibility of infrastructure, the power of standards, and the impact of new technologies—in order to invite the bioethics community to participate in conversations about infrastructure, as their expertise is both needed and welcomed.

On the cover: Neurodiversity, by Amaya Chikuni, 2022, watercolor, white charcoal, and tissue paper on poster board.

Courtesy of the artist.

When people lose capacity to make a medical decision, the standard is to assess what their preferences would have been and try to honor their wishes. Dementia raises a special case in such situations, given its long, progressive trajectory during which others must make substituted judgments. The question of how to help surrogates make better-informed decisions has led to the development of dementia-specific advance directives, in which people are given tools to help them communicate what their preferences are while they are still able. Such directives allow the perspective of the person to play a clearer role in guiding decisions about their care. Dementia directives can never serve as rigid algorithms. Rather, they can be used to help inform conversations, to help surrogates make decisions that are better aligned with the preferences the person would have had. This essay lays out the proposed utility of dementia-specific directives and addresses some of the criticisms raised about them.

Cultural narratives shape how we think about the world, including how we decide when the end of life begins. Hospice care has become an integral part of the end-of-life care in the United States, but as it has grown, its policies and practices have also imposed cultural narratives, like those associated with the “six-month rule” that the majority of the end of life takes place in the final six months of life. This idea is embedded in policies for a range of care practices and reimbursement processes, even though six months is not always a meaningful marker. In the case of people living with advanced dementia, six months is both too early in the trajectory to facilitate conversations and too late in the trajectory to ensure decision-making capacity. This essay encourages scholars and policy-makers to consider how cultural narratives may limit what they think is possible in care for people living with dementia.