We use cookies to distinguish you from other users and to provide you with a better experience on our websites. Close this message to accept cookies or find out how to manage your cookie settings.
To save content items to your account,
please confirm that you agree to abide by our usage policies.
If this is the first time you use this feature, you will be asked to authorise Cambridge Core to connect with your account.
Find out more about saving content to .
To save content items to your Kindle, first ensure coreplatform@cambridge.org
is added to your Approved Personal Document E-mail List under your Personal Document Settings
on the Manage Your Content and Devices page of your Amazon account. Then enter the ‘name’ part
of your Kindle email address below.
Find out more about saving to your Kindle.
Note you can select to save to either the @free.kindle.com or @kindle.com variations.
‘@free.kindle.com’ emails are free but can only be saved to your device when it is connected to wi-fi.
‘@kindle.com’ emails can be delivered even when you are not connected to wi-fi, but note that service fees apply.
The concept of productive sexual continence was widespread in the nineteenth century. Writing on sexual health, medical and otherwise, agreed that excessive sexual activity involved a loss that threatened one’s health or wellbeing, though disagreed over how much was too much. And although suspicion of prolonged continence was common, many inferred that if sex lost something precious then continence must involve gain. The chapter begins with medicine, finding that productive continence was worked into thinking about the sexual body even as conceptions of sexuality and bodily function changed dramatically. It then looks at influential popular and intellectual genres to which a similar concept of continence was important: quack adverts, advice for young men, New Women literature, nineteenth-century Platonism, and the Oxford Movement. In this literature, unlike medical writing, the idea was often extended to women with the justification that sexual activity involved a loss of some spiritual or emotional quality rather than physical substance. It was a concept that would have been very difficult to avoid in the nineteenth century and would have been plausible to both men and women.
Historians of Pahlavi Iran have demonstrated that physicians, pharmacists, dentists, and nurses were encouraged by early nation-builders to civilize patients and shepherd the masses into modernity. Medicine, however, was not only a top-down affair. Medical professionals maintained a dialogue with their patients, cognizant of the cultural mores of local communities and the threat of medical malpractice lawsuits. In fact, medicine, far from a universal science, was highly localized, inflected by traditional curatives (like herbs and spices), shortages of medical equipment and drugs, and local policing to safeguard patient rights. Through social history, scholars may examine the dialectic between patient and provider, which proved fundamental to the practice of modern medicine in Pahlavi Iran.
Andrei D. Stepanov surveys the accumulation of “small deeds” that constitute the core of Chekhov’s altruistic biography, in three stages – Moscow, Melikhovo, and Yalta – from the medical practice and care for relatives and friends that marked Chekhov’s early career, to more ambitious efforts during the second half of his life – the ways in which he extended help to convicts and exiles, peasants, schoolchildren, students, and poverty-stricken consumptives.
Matthew Mangold provides a detailed overview of Chekhov’s medical education, tracing Chekhov’s writerly formation in light of the environmental approach to medicine emerging at the time in the areas of hygiene, anatomy, and psychiatry, and in the new connections that were being conceived between the outer material world and the life of the psyche.
Michael Finke provides an account of the fatal illness that overshadowed almost the whole of Chekhov’s career and resulted in his early death at the age of forty-four. Finke traces the course of the illness, Chekhov’s correspondence, and the testimony of those around him, reflecting on Chekhov’s reticence and stoicism with regard to his illness in the context of his views of mortality, degeneration, and the body.
This chapter discusses the historical origins and emergence of the distinction between experimental philosophy and speculative philosophy. It opens with a summary of certain disciplinary-specific shifts in the late Renaissance that led to an increased appreciation of the value of experiment and observation. It then turns to the crucial traditional distinction between speculative and practical knowledge, which can be traced all the way back to Aristotle and was central to medieval and Renaissance understandings of the disciplines. Traditionally, natural philosophy had been classed as a speculative science, but interesting new approaches can be found in Roger Bacon, in the practice of natural magic, and in mechanics. These developments paved the way for the emergence of Francis Bacon’s division of natural philosophy as having a speculative and a practical, or operative, side. Francis Bacon’s heirs were to embrace his emphasis on the role of experiment in the operative side of natural philosophy, and by the 1660s in England a new form of operative natural philosophy emerged that its practitioners and advocates called experimental philosophy. In many contexts, it was set against the older, speculative approach to natural philosophy.
Locke’s knowledge of medicine, and of the main Galenist principles, indicates the type of ideas he was familiar with at an early age. Scholars have analysed the reception in the European political tradition of the Pseudo-Aristotle’s Oeconomia up to Robert Filmer’s Patriarcha, where the household unites economy and politics as a kingdom. The chapter evaluates in a novel manner, in the context of the seventeenth-century liberalism, the tradition of texts that deal with the materialist anthropology of needs, including the Pseudo-Galen’s Yconomia, in which household and humanity originate in the existence of needs. In these texts the state is the sum of individuals united through the materialist principle of human needs with an arbiter entrusted to resolve disputes about reciprocal transactions.
Lasting from 1979 to 2015, China's One Child Policy is often remembered as one of the most ambitious social engineering projects to date and considered emblematic of global efforts to regulate population growth during the twentieth century. Drawing on a rich combination of archival research and oral history, Sarah Mellors Rodriguez analyses how ordinary people, particularly women, navigated China's shifting fertility policies before and during the One Child Policy era. She examines the implementation and reception of these policies and reveals that they were often contradictory and unevenly enforced, as men and women challenged, reworked, and co-opted state policies to suit their own needs. By situating the One Child Policy within the longer history of birth control and abortion in China, Reproductive Realities in Modern China exposes important historical continuities, such as the enduring reliance on abortion as contraception and the precariousness of state control over reproduction.
There is growing interest in and support for the development of disease prevention measures in free-living wildlife and for the rescue, treatment and rehabilitation of wild animals that are sick and injured. In some cases these endeavours may be of importance to the conservation of populations but frequently they are undertaken for welfare rather than conservation reasons. There are circumstances in which wildlife welfare can be improved by therapeutic intervention but the difficulties, and their potentially harmful consequences, should not be underestimated. Interventions for the welfare of free-living wild animals whose fate we control or influence and which are therefore, to some extent, under our stewardship, are consistent with the tradition of humanity for and stewardship of domesticated or captive animals. However, it is suggested here that the decision to treat sick or injured free-living wild animals should not be based on welfare grounds alone.
Artificial intelligence (AI) systems have demonstrated impressive performance across a variety of clinical tasks. However, notoriously, sometimes these systems are “black boxes.” The initial response in the literature was a demand for “explainable AI.” However, recently, several authors have suggested that making AI more explainable or “interpretable” is likely to be at the cost of the accuracy of these systems and that prioritizing interpretability in medical AI may constitute a “lethal prejudice.” In this paper, we defend the value of interpretability in the context of the use of AI in medicine. Clinicians may prefer interpretable systems over more accurate black boxes, which in turn is sufficient to give designers of AI reason to prefer more interpretable systems in order to ensure that AI is adopted and its benefits realized. Moreover, clinicians may be justified in this preference. Achieving the downstream benefits from AI is critically dependent on how the outputs of these systems are interpreted by physicians and patients. A preference for the use of highly accurate black box AI systems, over less accurate but more interpretable systems, may itself constitute a form of lethal prejudice that may diminish the benefits of AI to—and perhaps even harm—patients.
In Longoni et al. (2019), we examine how algorithm aversion influences utilization of healthcare delivered by human and artificial intelligence providers. Pezzo and Beckstead’s (2020) commentary asks whether resistance to medical AI takes the form of a noncompensatory decision strategy, in which a single attribute determines provider choice, or whether resistance to medical AI is one of several attributes considered in a compensatory decision strategy. We clarify that our paper both claims and finds that, all else equal, resistance to medical AI is one of several attributes (e.g., cost and performance) influencing healthcare utilization decisions. In other words, resistance to medical AI is a consequential input to compensatory decisions regarding healthcare utilization and provider choice decisions, not a noncompensatory decision strategy. People do not always reject healthcare provided by AI, and our article makes no claim that they do.
Judgments of naturalness of foods tend to be more influenced by the process history of a food, rather than its actual constituents. Two types of processing of a “natural” food are to add something or to remove something. We report in this study, based on a large random sample of individuals from six countries (France, Germany, Italy, Switzerland, UK and USA) that additives are considered defining features of what makes a food not natural, whereas “subtractives” are almost never mentioned. In support of this, skim milk (with major subtraction of fat) is rated as more natural than whole milk with a small amount of natural vitamin D added. It is also noted that “additives” is a common word, with a synonym reported by a native speaker in 17 of 18 languages, whereas “subtractive” is lexicalized in only 1 of the 18 languages. We consider reasons for additivity dominance, relating it to omission bias, feature positive bias, and notions of purity.
This article looks at the translation and circulation of yogis’ learning in Persian medical and alchemical texts produced in South Asia. I suggest that looking at the non-religious environment allows for a more accurate understanding of the overall circulation of yogic knowledge and techniques in the Muslim society of South Asia. Furthermore, I suggest that the assimilation of yogis’ learning in Persian sources concerned not only Yoga but also other types of knowledge associated with yogis. Muslim physicians’ interest in yogis’ knowledge focused on one specific aspect: rasaśāstra “alchemy” and the mastery over the production of mercurial and metallic drugs. The technical and pragmatic focus of Persian medico-alchemical writings contributed to give views of yogis beyond the exotic and foreignizing category of the wonders of India. Medical writings helped to develop views of yogis as a socio-economic group involved in the transmission of a specific body of knowledge. This was an important shift away from the perspective of the ‘ajā’ib al-hind “wonders of India” as well as from the ways in which yogis were perceived in Sufi texts. New perspectives on yogis emerged when Persian-speaking scholars and readers in India needed more pragmatic representations of local groups, such as the physicians who were in the process of appropriating alchemical notions that were closely associated with the yogis.
This chapter examines Tolstoy’s treatment of mortality – from his earliest published works to his last, and in letters, diaries, and conversations – as a long preparation for his own death. It draws especially from his later period, when he drew nearer to death and became increasingly focused on it, often reminding those around him, and his reading public, of their need to do the same. Thus, while Tolstoy anticipated death as a personal sacrament, he also created a context for the public to consider his passing as a collective examination of his values. The chapter concludes with Tolstoy’s death at Astapovo railway station in 1910, where he attempted to meet his own expectations for this moment within the spectacle created by a public bent on treating it as its own rite of passage.
This chapter contextualizes Tolstoy’s literary production within the medical sciences of the second half of the nineteenth century, when the field changed rapidly in the wake of scientific discoveries, such as germ theory, a reorganization of the medical institutions, and Alexander II’s liberal reforms. The chapter addresses Tolstoy’s experience of and views on medical procedures and institutions of his time, as well as the writer’s stance toward medical theories and their proponents, including Cesare Lombroso). It shows how the writer’s ambivalent relationship with medicine and doctors is staged in his oeuvre. Works analyzed include War and Peace, The Death of Ivan Ilyich, and Resurrection.
Artificial intelligence (AI) systems have demonstrated impressive performance across a variety of clinical tasks. However, notoriously, sometimes these systems are “black boxes.” The initial response in the literature was a demand for “explainable AI.” However, recently, several authors have suggested that making AI more explainable or “interpretable” is likely to be at the cost of the accuracy of these systems and that prioritizing interpretability in medical AI may constitute a “lethal prejudice.” In this article, we defend the value of interpretability in the context of the use of AI in medicine. Clinicians may prefer interpretable systems over more accurate black boxes, which in turn is sufficient to give designers of AI reason to prefer more interpretable systems in order to ensure that AI is adopted and its benefits realized. Moreover, clinicians may be justified in this preference. Achieving the downstream benefits from AI is critically dependent on how the outputs of these systems are interpreted by physicians and patients. A preference for the use of highly accurate black box AI systems, over less accurate but more interpretable systems, may itself constitute a form of lethal prejudice that may diminish the benefits of AI to—and perhaps even harm—patients.
Providing an overview of health, medicine and medical practitioners in France at the time of Molière, this chapter shows that, unsurprisingly, medical treatment and access to trained practitioners depended on social status and geographical location, although life expectancy for adults was not as uneven as we might expect. While humoral medicine continued to dominate, key advances were accepted over time, and the publication of medical works in the vernacular disseminated knowledge among literate lay persons. The challenge is to recognise what Molière’s audiences would have found credible or risible. His depiction of illness and medicine belongs to the traditions of farce, comedy-ballet and extravagant entertainments, and should not be read as a reflection on his own health or treatment by doctors. Two farces (Le Médecin volant, Le Médecin malgré lui) and a farcical scene in Dom Juan derive broad humour from a character grotesquely impersonating a physician. In contrast, three comedy-ballets (L’Amour médecin, Monsieur de Pourceaugnac, Le Malade imaginaire) feature genuine physicians treating patients whom they seek to exploit for financial gain if they are delusional and gullible. Yet music, dance and entertainment are also artfully contrived to restore health, at least in the world of the theatre.
In this chapter, Fruzsina Molnár-Gábor and Johanne Giesecke consider specific aspects of how the application of AI-based systems in medical contexts may be guided under international standards. They sketch the relevant international frameworks for the governance of medical AI. Among the frameworks that exist, the World Medical Association’s activity appears particularly promising as a guide for standardisation processes. The organisation has already unified the application of medical expertise to a certain extent worldwide, and its guidance is anchored in the rules of various legal systems. It might provide the basis for a certain level of conformity of acceptance and implementation of new guidelines within national rules and regulations, such as those on new technology applications within the AI field. In order to develop a draft declaration, the authors then sketch out the potential applications of AI and its effects on the doctor–patient relationship in terms of information, consent, diagnosis, treatment, aftercare, and education. Finally, they spell out an assessment of how further activities of the WMA in this field might affect national rules, using the example of Germany.