According to Frankena, “the moral point of view is what Alison Wilde and Heather Badcock did not have.” Most of us, however, are not such extreme examples. We are capable of the moral point of view, but we fail to take the necessary time or make the required efforts. We resist pulling ourselves from other distractions to focus on the plight of others and what we might do to ameliorate their suffering. Perhaps compassion is rooted in understanding what it is that connects us with others rather than what separates us, and rests on developing sufficient awareness, to internalize what our actions, or lack of them, mean in the lives of others.

This is a time of change in American healthcare. Market forces are restructuring local delivery systems around competing managed care networks. Many leading proposals for healthcare reform intend a reshaping of the national healthcare marketplace itself. Periods of change create an opportunity to reassess traditional values and practices. Such reassessments can be used to help insure that current innovations and proposed reforms preserve and strengthen the best in the traditions of medicine. A legitimate focus of concern in the medical and medical ethics community has been the effect of these delivery system changes on the physician-patient relationship. For example, will the future American healthcare system support and encourage compassion by physicians? Suppose it does not. Would something of significant moral value have been lost? More pointedly, would a system that undervalued or frustrated physician compassion be incompatible with the moral obligations of physicians? In order to address these questions, we examine the meaning of compassion and the role it should play in the physician-patient relationship. We argue that compassion is a duty of all physicians. Because this is so, we believe that changes in the healthcare system must be judged, in part, by how well they protect and encourage compassionate conduct by physicians.

Traditional moral theories of rights and principles have dominated medical ethics discussions for decades. Appeals to utilitarian consequences, as well as the principles of respect for autonomy, beneficence, and justice, have provided the standard vocabulary and filled the literature of the field.

Recently on the bioethics scene, however, there has been some discussion of virtue, and, particularly within the nursing ethics literature, appeals are being made to the feminist ethics of care. This intimation of a shift in the wind may have to do with postmodern doubt, or it may be attributable to the claim that virtue theory and the ethics of care (which focus on the character or feelings of the agent, respectively) are more appropriate to private interaction; theories of rights and justice (which focus on the act rather than the agent) are best applied to the political domain of public policy.

The Norman Rockwell image of the American physician who fixed the broken arm of a child, treated the father for hypertension, and brought an unborn child into this world is now almost nonexistent. Since the time of the Rockwell portrait, a highly technical medical industry has evolved. Now two-thirds of physicians are board certified in subspecialties, and patients visit an average of 3–4 different physicians per year. Today's physicians see themselves less as “benevolent and wise counselors overseeing the patient's welfare and more as objective scientists applying the latest technical methods to bring about the desired end.” The intimate patient-physician relationship that was once the norm in our society is rapidly disappearing.

Ms. B. was a 70-year-old woman who presented with a chief complaint of “my belly got puffy.” She noted that her waistband got progressively tighter as her abdomen swelled up on the month prior to her admission. Although not painful, the swelling caused considerable discomfort and anorexia.

Ms. B. had come to the university hospital by referral from her primary care doctor. She was my first patient on my junior clerkship in internal medicine, a specialty I was particularly interested in going into. It is a rare opportunity for a medical student to pick up a mystery case. Ms. B. had come to us without a diagnosis.

Domestic violence is an important social problem that strongly impacts the healthcare system. It is estimated that two to four million women are physically abused each year by their husbands, ex-husbands, or boyfriends. Many of these abused women enter the medical system as patients with physical injuries, somatic symptoms, or psychiatric problems. These patients represent a large proportion of women patients in a variety of clinical settings: 22–35% of women presenting to emergency departments, up to 37% of obstetric patients, and over 25% of women seeking primary care. Despite the significant health implications of marital abuse, healthcare providers often fail to identify and treat this problem when signs are present.

This paper will discuss the role of compassion in ethics in general and in healthcare ethics in particular. My thesis is that compassion:

1) as Rousseau pointed out, is a natural trait common to all higher animals (human as well as nonhuman);

2) can and does serve as one of the most important motivators and modulators of ethics in both theoretical and applied aspects;

3) must be controlled by, and in turn control, reason if it is to serve its ethical as well as natural purposes; and

4) as a natural trait has survival value and, by virtue of being a natural trait, cannot be an obligation although there may very well be an obligation to do all that is necessary to nurture and not crush this sentiment.

On one side of his sign board, a nineteenth century surgeon depicted a physician operating on a patient's leg; the other side showed the Good Samaritan taking care of the victim's wounds. Christ's parable has often been quoted and depicted as a primary example of human compassion, to be followed by all persons and, a fortiori, by so-called professionals such as physicians and nurses. If we grant that the parable has not lost its narrative power for 20th century “postmodern” readers living in a “pluralistic” society, it merits a closer analysis.

In an interview just before his death, Issan Dorsey, an American Zen priest and abbot of the Hartford Street Zen Center, stated, “AIDS is not fatal. Life is fatal. If you have AIDS, you are alive.” Although infected with AIDS, Issan worked to establish the Maitri Hospice for those dying from complications related to AIDS in the San Francisco Castro District, the heart of the gay and lesbian community. His efforts reflect the statement–although the body may be diseased, one can continue to give abundantly and tirelessly, articulated by Vimalakirti in the Vimalakirtinirdesa Sutra (Sutra on the Teaching of Vimalakirti).

On the morning of December 2, 1994, after a preceding afternoon of discussion, the Advisory Committee to the Director of the National Institutes of Health (NIH) unanimously voted to approve the recommendations of the Report of the Human Embryo Research Panel. Panel members like myself who were present were elated. The vote marked the culmination of nearly a year of work. Approval of the report also represented a decisive step forward in bringing an end to a 15-year long moratorium on federally funded research on the preimplantation human embryo and techniques of in vitro fertilization.

Before sailing past the sirens' “flowery meadow,” Ulysses instructed his sailors to lash him to the mast so that he would not succumb to the siren's singing. His advance directive demonstrated that he valued his dispositional or long-term autonomy over his unquestioned right to make decisions. He also indicated to his oarsmen that he understood the nature of temptation and his inability to resist it. Ideas of autonomy and sexual choice are central to this discussion of new AIDS treatments, especially the trials of preventative vaccines. Questions arise over the rights of individuals and the extent that these should be limited by concerns of the gay community. Should the gay community intervene in the risky decisions of individuals if no explicit advance directive exists? If so, how do they justify their paternalism? Could their aims not be better served through strengthening the individual dispositional autonomy of trial participants rather than making specific claims about the common good?

Traditionally, surrogates have been involved principally in making decisions about life-sustaining treatment for incompetent individuals. Today, surrogates are increasingly called upon to make everyday medical decisions for patients who are incompetent because they are demented. Some of the potential perils of proxy decision making under these circumstances have been identified, including the lack of concordance between patients and their proxies, demands by proxies for technically futile therapy, and actual abuse of patients. We found a significant number of cases in which healthcare providers at a long-term care facility came into conflict with surrogates because the treatment desired by the surrogate was viewed as excessively burdensome when evaluated by an experienced team of nurses, physicians, and social workers. Neither a court-appointed guardian nor an Institutional ethics committee were likely to be able to resolve these conflicts because of lack of clarity about what constitutes the best Interest of Impaired nursing home patients. The following case illustrates this increasingly common conflict.

A referral was made to our Cardiac Transplant Program for a patient who was in the New Jersey Prison System. The Medical Director of the New Jersey Department of Corrections called regarding a 39-year-old inmate who was being treated in a New Jersey hospital that has a unit for prisoners from a nearby cor- rectional facility. The referring physician described the patient to our Medical Director of heart transplantation as a “murderer” who had been incarcerated since 1987 and sentenced to prison for 30 years without eligibility for parole before completion of his 30-year sentence. The patient was being treated in the CCU of the facility and according to preliminary studies, was suffering from a possible dilated cardiomyopathy. There was evidence of a prior cerebrovascular accident (etiology unknown) with a dense hemiplegia of the left side. The patient was alert but unable to care for himself. There were a number of specific tests necessary to evaluate the patient's candidacy for heart transplantation before actually placing him-on a waiting list. However, the transplant director was uncertain about having the patient brought to our facility for further testing and called some members of the Transplant Selection Committee team to discuss the case.

The era of managed care has arrived with portents of a new calculus to integrate cost and quality in health services. These devises such as “report cards” and “outcome measures” place performance against expectations and thus are expected to gauge the value of specific elements of healthcare delivery. From such measures and comparisons, the public will be able to better judge the appropriate, effective, and attractive place to seek their medical services. What is now widely used by utilization review, guiding reimbursement decisions and allowances for the length of hospital stays, will soon have a more prosperous future as general guidelines built into the very framework of managed care agreements.