In this engaging study, the authors put casuistry into its historical context, tracing the origin of moral reasoning in antiquity, its peak during the sixteenth and early seventeenth century, and its subsequent fall into disrepute from the mid-seventeenth century.

Although the physician’s use and misuse of power have been discussed in the social sciences and in literature, they have never been explored in medical ethics until now. In this book, Dr. Howard Brody argues that the central task is not to reduce the physician’s power, as others have suggested, but to develop guidelines for its use, so that the doctor shares with the patient both information and the responsibility for deciding on appropriate treatment. Dr. Brody first reviews literary works (...) dealing with medical power, from Dostoevsky’s “The Grand Inquisitor” to stories by William Carlos Williams, Vonda McIntyre, and Richard Selzer. These works, he shows, reveal the healers’ ambivalence over their own powers and patients’ fears of the abuse of power. Dr. Brody then points out important but neglected ethical issues that emerge from an analysis of power, such as the tension between care of individual patients and the pressures of the doctor’s workload; the rescue fantasy that impels some physicians to extraordinary lengths to save a life; and the economic system, which rewards surgeons and other specialists more than it does physicians who spend time talking with patients about their problems. He also shows how the perspective of shared power can shed new light on standard topics in medical ethics—from informed consent and confidentiality to resource allocation and cost containment. (shrink)

In the rationalist tradition in ethics, the emotions are morally suspect. In a corrective swing of the pendulum, burgeoning philosophical interest is “rehabilitating” the emotions in ethical decisionmaking. The emotions and reason should be mutually correcting resources in moral reflection.

What has moral theory to do with practical judgment? The practical ethicist can move by analogy from case to case, saying of most new cases, “Oh, I think I've been here before.” Theory, ascending to a broader view, can provide directions when the ethicist finds herself in unfamiliar territory.

When cases are described thinly to protect patient confidentiality, they teach us only what we put into them. Thick description, like myth, allows a fuller moral response.