Is it possible to have an effective legal safeguard within an inherently therapeutic context? This is the issue underlying a significant contrast in the way that similar provisions of the Mental Health Act 1983 (England and Wales) have been interpreted and applied in two different settings: in the purely legal setting of the High Court and by a judicial body in a hospital setting, namely, the Mental Health Review Tribunal.

Before dealing explicitly with the legal framework adopted by the 1983 act, I will briefly set out the kinds of strategies the law can employ to regulate behavior. One technique used in some areas of the law is to draw up an exhaustive list of rules and principles in an attempt to determine the outcome of cases. In this respect the law is concerned to achieve substantive justice; little discretion is vested in decision- makers. Alternatively, the law may confer complete discretion on decision-makers, and insist merely that the rules of natural justice be complied with in the process of making decisions.

Medical-legal partnerships (MLPs) integrate knowledge and practices from law and health care in pursuit of health equity. However, the MLP movement has not reached its full potential to address racial health inequities, in part because its original framing was not explicitly race conscious.

The debate about the definition of scientific miscon duct is being revisited by the scientific community in response to the Commission on Research Integrity's (CRI) recommendation for a new definition. Scientists and lawyers are debating whether scientific misconduct should include acts that are not unique to the scientific community and do not affect the research. Falsification of credentials is one form of such misconduct.

The Office of Research Integrity (ORI) and the National Science Foundation (NSF), the two federal agencies primarily responsible for developing policies on scientific misconduct, have struggled to define scientific rnisconduct and to decide which forms of professional misconduct do and do not fall within the definition. Although falsification of credentials is not unique to the scientific community, OR1 and NSF have determined that when researchers lie about their credentials, such conduct may constitute scientific misconduct. The question is why this form of professional misconduct has been labeled scientific misconduct when it occurs in a research setting, and whether any distinction exists between this white coat crime and white collar crime.

This article describes why a constitutional test that relies exclusively on history and tradition for deciding modern firearm regulations is woefully inadequate when applied to modern technologies. It explains the unique advancements in firearm technology — specifically, ghost guns — that challenge the viability of a purely historical test, even if legal scholars or judges attempt to reason by analogy. This article argues that the prevailing, two-step approach, which incorporates both history and tradition, and requires a judicial examination of the purposes and methods supporting a challenged firearm regulation, should apply nationwide. That a dissenting faction of conservative judges seeks to ignore the prevailing approach presents a potentially dangerous path for Second Amendment jurisprudence. This article draws from certain historical gun laws to illustrate the difficult legwork that analogies must do under a purely historical test. It uses the advent of ghost guns as a case study to offer guidance for judges in their rulemaking practices regarding Second Amendment cases.

Today’s panel is about the expanding boundary of population health policy, what that expanding boundary has to do with law, and what kinds of challenges and opportunities come out of it. What I want to do for the next few minutes is talk to you about the notion of population health as it exists where law and policy are made, rather than where it exists in a spectacular international theoretical literature. Then I want to introduce our panelists. In the process, I will explain why the Honorable John Nilson, is not with us, which tells you a great deal about not only the real world of the politics of population health, but also about the kind of trouble you can get into if you are a first class lawyer involved in population health.

During World War II, the Allies created the United Nations and its associated international institutions to stabilize the post-war world. The Allies envisioned a coordinated world in which human rights for all were respected, economic and social progress for all promoted, and global warfare prevented. This was a phenomenally fantastic vision that seemed unattainable in the wake of the most devastating global war in history.

Today, the world is witnessing some of the fruits of these mid-20th century events and aspirations, especially since the collapse of Communism in 1989. Economic integration and free trade has become much more prevalent as exemplified by astounding developments such as the European Union. And there is a greater appreciation of human rights, including the international human right to health. This article examines the evolution of trade policy and the impact of free trade policies on the health care sectors of the three countries of North America and the realization of the human right to health in North America.

In their critique of Wisconsin's revised child protection Statute, Kenneth De Ville and Loretta Kopelman argue rightly that “words matter.” Word mongering infects most political dialogue and is nowhere more virulent than in the American abortion debate. Dichotomies such as “ unborn child” and “fetus,” expectant mother” and “pregnant woman,” “anti-choice’’ and “pro-choice,” “pregnancy termination” and “murder” symbolize the polarity of the abortion argument and the importance of language as a powerful conceptual weapon. The debate over reproductive rights is a war often fought on a linguistic battlefield. There, combatants forgo rules of engagement. Mal-intentioned illiteracy, ranging from the puerile to the vituperative, is always strategic.

The question of why women, in consultation with their physicians, should choose hormone therapy (HT) in response to menopause represents a renewed controversy at the beginning of the new century. Conflicting messages regarding the health risks and benefits of HT have been conveyed in the mainstream media, especially information in the media regarding the results of large-scale studies of the health impact of hormone therapy. Women who have been on one or another of the hormone replacement regimes have been forced to reconsider continuing on HT. Doctors who suggest these hormones to their patients are somewhat confused, as are perimenopausal women who are considering HT. Pharmaceutical companies that produce these compounds are worried, and public health officials are on the defensive.

Media coverage of HT research has been extensive. In particular, two large-scale studies, one here in the U.S. (the Women's Health Initiative, or WHI) and the other in Great Britain, have recently cast a negative light on the use of hormone therapy, after years of routine prescription of HT for menopausal women.

Most people identify Roe v. Wade with a single landmark judgment. It extended the constitutional right of individual privacy to a woman’s decision about whether to terminate a pregnancy. Indeed, political, judicial, and scholarly debates about the case have focused on the origin, content, and balancing of that substantive due process right to abortion.

Largely missing from these debates is Roe’s distinct holding, on the other side of the constitutional ledger, that the government has a valid reason to regulate reproductive conduct in the name of “potential life.” Despite decades of intensive litigation and academic commentary on the metes and bounds of reproductive privacy, scholars have paid little attention to the state’s interest in potential life that it is routinely found to implicate.

During the past four years, the International Institute for Indigenous Resource Management has sponsored and co-sponsored a series of discursive roundtables on the ethical, legal, social, and cultural implications of genetic research on Indian tribes and Indian people. The deliberations of the tribal leaders, legal scholars, researchers, representatives of non-governmental organizations, and others who participated in these roundtables laid out a range of barriers to informed tribal participation in genetic research and proposed a policy, legal, and scientific research agenda to fill gaps in knowledge and to otherwise support indigenous peoples' decision-making on genetic research issues.

An understanding of Native American attitudes toward genetic research on their community cannot be fully understood absent an appreciation of the interrelationship among native peoples, genetic research, and the landscape, contaminated as it is by governmental and other factors. The deliberations described herein present invaluable insights into tribal attitudes toward genetic research that have application to ethical, legal and social aspects of forensic DNA databanks, sample collection and retention, and, in particular, issues of secondary non-forensic uses of such DNA.

Current debates about the roles of the public and private sectors in pharmaceutical innovation have a long history. The extent to which, and ways in which, the public sector supports drug innovation has implications for assessments of the returns to public research funding, taxpayer rights in drugs, the argument the high prices are needed to support drug innovation, and the desirability of patenting publicly funded research.

If clinical trials become a commercial venture in which self-interest overrules public interest and desire overrules science, then the social contract which allows research on human subjects in return for medical advances is broken.

Background

In the past two decades, the involvement of non-academic sponsors of biomedical research, particularly clinical trial research, has increased exponentially. The value of such sponsored research is difficult to ascertain. However, it is estimated that, between 1980 and 2003, overall research and development expenditures by US pharmaceutical companies increased from $2 billion to $33 billion and that, in 2001, clinical trial research expenditures in Canada totaled $800 million to $1 billion.

The source of funding for biomedical research has shifted significantly from predominantly government and private foundations to industry. By 2002,70% of funding for clinical trials came from industry. These factors have affected the conduct of research, particularly clinical trial research, in a variety of ways.

No country has yet implemented a pilot to ensure access to or the innovation of new antibiotics for multi-drug infections. A team from national health agencies in Norway, with the support of the Innovative Medicine Initiative-funded project DRIVE-AB, designed a model suitable for the national context, including the selection of the antibiotics, the potential value, and the operational model.

Critics of the gaps in our nation’s health insurance decry the absence of a health insurance “system” and the resulting “patchwork” of private and public insurance that leaves so many Americans unprotected. There is no question that these gaps are unconscionable; but they are also no accident. They are the result of policy and political choices with substantial consequences for those who remain uncovered. In my view, (based on experience as well as the excellent scholarship of others) the fundamental political barrier to universal coverage is that our success in insuring most of the nation’s population has “crowded out” our political capacity to insure the rest. This paper will explain how we arrived at the mix of private and public insurance we now have, how that mix impedes efforts to achieve universal coverage, and how “crowd-out” affects strategy for improving coverage in the future.

As genomic medicine advances and immense amounts of data are generated that may potentially affect human health, there is increasing concern around which of these results matter to participants. There has been considerable debate on which research results to return to participants and when those results should be returned. To date, however, the debates around the return of genomic results have not focused on how those results should be returned, especially when the results come from minority and/or culturally diverse participants. This commentary explores cultural and ethical considerations, and shares insight from my own Navajo background, around returning genomic research results to participants and potentially to families of culturally diverse backgrounds, with a special focus on considerations when the research participant is deceased, and raises points for further discussion.

The author recounts her experience as an Alzheimer's care-giver to her mother, stressing the value of her professional background in theater.

Health care costs have been rising steadily in most industrialized countries. These increases are driven primarily by technological advances and, to a lesser degree, by aging of the population. Many factors make it unlikely that market forces alone will limit increases in the costs of health care. These unremitting increases make health care rationing appear both necessary and inevitable.One of the least controversial mechanisms for rationing could be to allow patients to make their own choices as to which kinds of care they would be willing to forgo. This is appealing because it preserves individual freedom of choice regarding health care in a way that other rationing mechanisms often do not. Rationing by patient choice, however, can only happen if patients recognize that resources are limited and need to be conserved, and are willing to forgo marginal benefits.