American health policy today faces dual problems of too little coverage at too high a cost. The mix of private and public financing leaves about one seventh of the population without any insurance coverage. At the same time, the coverage Americans do have costs an ever-larger share of our country’s productive capacity. The U.S. pays well above what other countries pay and what many people, health plans, businesses, and governments want to pay. This “paradox of excess and deprivation” results from the incremental approach the U.S. has taken to promoting incompatible policy goals of increasing health insurance coverage and medical quality while trying to control costs, without squarely confronting tradeoffs. This essay examines the record of incremental developments and draws lessons for current efforts at reform.

Although the details of the Clinton health care plan have yet to emerge from the continuing policy debate over the shape and size of the administration’s reform measures, one thing has become increasingly clear. Several recent developments in antitrust law will have important implications for what the plan will permit and how it will work.

By all accounts, the broad outline of the administration’s plan revolves around the development of large and powerful consumer groups who, with the help of sophisticated, government-established intermediaries, will presumably purchase health care wisely and well. This alliance of massed consumer purchasing and government information-gathering will, it is hoped, produce a health care market more in competitive balance than the current version, which is widely regarded as dominated by powerful providers who dictate terms to small, uninformed buying groups.

In little more than a decade, the AIDS epidemic has exerted a profound effect on morbidity and mortality among young adults and children in many parts of the world. One of the more dramatic aspects of AIDS is that it seems to have arisen almost spontaneously as a new epidemic, spreading rapidly within at-risk populations in a way that is unprecedented for the serious infectious diseases of recent memory. Tuberculosis, on the other hand, had only recently been considered a disease of historical importance but of diminishing relevance to current public health priorities, especially in industrialized countries. Over the past decade, however, and in parallel with the AIDS epidemic, there has been a resurgence of tuberculosis in many of the same populations most affected by HIV infection. This has had important implications for clinical practice, public health, and the development of appropriate health policy. A number of elements have converged to promote the development of HIV-related tuberculosis, including biologic, social, and environmental factors. These will be discussed both to provide a context for understanding the relationship between the two epidemics, and as a basis for suggesting strategies for tuberculosis control in the AIDS era.

Physicians and institutional providers face expanding liability exposure today, in spite of state tort reform legislation and public awareness of the costs of malpractice for providers. Standards of practice are evolving rapidly; new medical technologies are being introduced at a rapid rate; information is proliferating as to treatment efficacy, patient risk, and diseases generally. Tort standards mirror this change. As medical standards of care evolve, they provide a benchmark against which to measure provider failure. The liability exposure of physicians is affected by (1) the generation of data, including outcomes data usable to profile physician practice, and statistical data that allows for predictions as to treatment efficacy, and patient prognosis; (2) obligations to inform patients and third parties of risk created by contagious disease and other sources of harm; (3) obligations of physicians to disclose risks that the provider creates for the patient; (4) obligations to disclose conflicts of interest arising out of the practice setting; and (5) duties arising from new epidemiological knowledge.

As the millennium approaches, the United States is on the verge of major health care reform. While swallowing scarce national resources, our health care system produces unenviable results and major inconsistencies. In 1992, $838.5 billion were spent on health care, biting more than 14 percent out of our gross national product. From 35 to 37 million Americans, or approximately 14 percent of the populationn, are uninsured. Our health care system is inherently inconsistent: We have the highest birthweight-specific survival rate of any country in the world, yet we rank 19th worldwide in infant mortality rate, i.e., state-of-the-art medical technology allows us to save a 500-gram infant, yet the mother of that infant may not have had access to basic, minimal prenatal care.

In 1882 Koch discovered the tubercle bacillus and transformed both the medical and the social history of tuberculosis and the experiences of those who contracted it. For the first time, the absence or presence of the bacillus made it possible to define, in Koch’s terms, “the boundaries of the diseases to be understood as tuberculosis.” And for the first time the sick became subject to oversight and discrimination.

Prior to Koch’s discovery, tuberculosis, or as it was then called, consumption, was considered a hereditary and non-contagious disease, albeit a very deadly and persistent one. Over the first half of the nineteenth century, it was responsible for one out of every five deaths. It crossed all boundaries of geography, social class, age, and sex affecting residents in rural as well as urban areas, the prosperous as well as the poor, the young even more notably than the old, females more often than males. Physicians assumed a familial predisposition existed (as in the case of insanity); following the precepts of humoral medicine, they postulated that the disease originated in “irritations” whose sources were to be found in the interaction of an inherited constitution with a particular lifestyle and environment.

Gender violence is a major yet often underrecognized obstacle to reproductive choice. In both the abortion rights movement in the United States and the reproductive health movement globally, the “enemy” of self-determination and choice is usually seen as imposing from the top down. In the North, it is the government—through the courts, the legislature, and bureaucratic rulemaking—that threatens to “take away” women’s reproductive autonomy. The image is one of the public sphere invading that which is private—of the state interfering with a woman’s right to control her own body.

Although HIV disease has set a new model for resolving the tensions between civil liberties and public health interests, with an unprecedented commitment to individual privacy and autonomy, the resurgence of tuberculosis has sparked new and troublesome concerns. One particularly intense controversy has emerged around the value and appropriateness of single disease hospitals. In HIV disease, the single hospital turns out to be an altogether unsuitable and unnecessary innovation. In the instance of tuberculosis, however, it appears to have a critical and legitimate role, particularly for involuntary commitment of patients who have been non-compliant with treatment regimens. To be sure, that role must be carefully circumscribed and the facilities themselves closely monitored. But a hospital dedicated to tuberculosis now occupies a central place in public policy that is not to be found for HIV disease. What considerations promote this difference, and how a single disease hospital for tuberculosis may avoid the pitfalls that make it so inapposite for HIV, are the two questions this essay will be exploring.

Developing countries are faced with the mutually perpetuating obstacles of poverty and inadequate development. Their needs are often so vast that their scarce resources prove too meager even to begin to address the problems.

It is estimated that close to 2.2 billion people live in a state of severe poverty. The precarious housing and health of these people, 60 percent of the population of developing countries, are compounded by hunger and dangerous environmental conditions. Generally, they have large families and their incomes are extremely low. Malnutrition is widespread despite the fact that 80 percent of their earnings are spent on food.

If there is one ethical concept considered to be central to human social life it is the idea of justice. Although there are several competing principles of justice, the core concept of justice embodies the obligation to treat like cases alike, in relevant respects. Women may differ from men in some respects, but the fact that women get sick, become injured, and die from preventable causes renders them similar to men in the need to carry out biomedical research, develop therapies, and attend to health problems specific to women. An ethical perspective on women’s health begins and ends with principles of justice. Although particular circumstances and conditions differ in developed and less developed countries, the ethical conclusions regarding justice are the same for women in all societies.

Calls for the inclusion of women in clinical trials raise the obvious question: why have sponsors excluded them? The answer most often given is one tragically evocative word: Thalidomide. The tragedies of the children born with seal limbs because their mothers took this over-the-counter sleeping pill and cure for morning sickness showed that, contrary to previous perceptions, the placenta could not be depended upon to filter out toxins before they reached the fetus. The specter of birth defects spawned sponsors’ fears of a variety of catastrophes which contributed to closing the doors of clinical trials for women.

This paper will not argue that the possibility of birth defects arising from the ingestion of an experimental drug does not exist. Sadly, scientists do not yet have the ability to predict which drugs will cause birth defects. Rather, it will argue that case law does not provide a basis for sponsor liability when a woman gives informed consent and the regulations governing clinical trials are followed.

Planning of effective responses to the recent resurgence of tuberculosis in the United States, and particularly in New York City, requires review of our knowledge of (1) the factors that led to the decline of tuberculosis in the U.S. and other countries during the nineteenth and the first three-quarters of the twentieth century, and (2) the recent changes in these same factors and the rise of new factors that have contributed to its resurgence. Because the analysis of the impact of all of these factors in both the remote and the recent past is controversial, it is important to use a well-defined framework to organize the analysis. The framework we will use is shown in Table 1. To the classic epidemiologic triad of Agent, Host and Environment it adds the category of Health Services. In this paper we redefine both the classic and new categories using current disciplines and concepts applicable to tuberculosis.

The new reproductive technologies, especially in vitro fertilization (IVF), have extended the possi- bilities of assisted reproduction to the benefit of the childless couples. At the same time these technologies and their added techniques, however, have fragmented reproduction and exposed the human egg to intervention yet unknown:

• The embryo may be divided into several embryos; may be sold; donated; cryopreserved; borne by another woman and returned; or used for research;

• Genetic parentage may be present without sexual intercourse, may be different from social parentage and the natural time-span between fertilization and birth may be interrupted.

“There's glory for you!”

“I don't know what you mean by ‘glory,’ ” Alice said.

Humpty Dumpty smiled contemptuously. “Of course, you dont—till I tell you. I meant ‘there's a nice knock-down argument.’”

“But ‘glory’ doesn't mean a ‘nice knock-down argument,” Alice objected.

“When I use a word,” Humpty Dumpty said, in rather a scornful tone, “it means just what I choose it to mean—neither more nor less.”

“The question is,” said Alice, “whether you can make words mean so many different things.”

“The question is,” said Humpty Dumpty, “which is to be master, that's all.”

When applied bioethics confronts the topic of futility, the question of who is to be master turns out to be central. Indeed, much of the literature on futility has focused on exactly this question: who gets to define the terms of the debate? Who gets to decide that treatment is “futile” and therefore allowably withheld or withdrawn?