What was really going on in the Baby K case? Many people have posed that or similar questions to me when I have been introduced as the attorney for Baby K's mother. In a nutshell, the courts in Baby K ruled that a hospital is required to provide emergency medical care to an anencephalic baby at the mother's request. In this paper, I provide some insights into the factors that underlie the litigation and the legal issues decided by the courts. In my view, this case involved a myriad of legal questions, religious principles, power struggles, and health care resources arguments that could arise in other contexts.

The conflict between pregnant women freely using cocaine and the well-being of fetuses presents a difficult social problem. Since 1985, at least 200 women, in thirty states, have been criminally prosecuted for using illicit drugs or alcohol during pregnancy. Such policies enjoy considerable public and political support. Nonetheless, treatment programs that include referral to law enforcement officials raise serious ethical and legal issues for hospitals and health care providers. In this paper, we assess the development of one medical university's controversial treatment program for pregnant women addicted to cocaine.

In October 1989, the Medical University of South Carolina (MUSC) instituted a new program, called the Interagency Policy on Management of Substance Abuse During Pregnancy (Interagency Policy), designed “to ensure appropriate management of patients abusing illegal drugs during pregnancy.” This program required some pregnant women to seek drug counseling and prenatal care under the threat of criminal sanctions.

Due to society's need to control health care costs and to the failure of legislated health care reform, managed care is expanding at a rapid rate and will soon be the predominate form of health care delivery. Plans by Congress to bring Medicare and Medicaid under managed care will further consolidate this trend. Barring some legislative fiat, managed care is here to stay.

The term managed care describes a diverse set of organizational forms. Wide variations in approach, financing, physician involvement, and philosophy exist among the different types of managed care organizations (MCOs). While many articles on the ethics of managed care acknowledge this variety, most analyses focus on the for-profit entities, paying less attention to the ethical distinctions among the different forms of managed care. This paper discusses the key distinctions among MCO types, in particular the difference between for-profit and non-profit plans; the relationship of the physician to the MCO; the incentives used to control costs; the incentives that improve patient care; and the organizational features that nurture the principled practice of medicine.

Human genomic information is invested with enormous power in a scientifically motivated society. Genomic information has the capacity to produce a great deal of good for society. It can help identify and understand the etiology and pathophysiology of disease. In so doing, medicine and science can expand the ability to prevent and ameliorate human malady through genetic testing, treatment, and reproductive counseling.

Genomic information can just as powerfully serve less beneficent ends. Information can be used to discover deeply personal attributes of an individual's life. That information can be used to invade a person's private sphere, to alter a person's sense of self- and family identity, and to affect adversely opportunities in education, employment, and insurance. Genomic information can also affect families and ethnic groups that share genetic similarities.

For a health lawyer in private practice, the substance of any discussion of managed care turns on the developments in the health care marketplace. Without a doubt, the industry is rapidly moving from one frame of reference to a radically different one. It is no surprise then, that, in consulting me, my clients want to know what is and what will be, not what should be. They want at least to survive, if not be successful, in the whirlwind of restructuring that offers no clear choices, no clear outcomes, and significant legal liabilities if they do not perform effectively.

What I want to address in this article is how the consolidation of medical practices and the integration of delivery structures has outpaced the legal system's ability to regulate or guide the emerging health care market. This gap leaves physicians without proper legal guidance on how to balance their duties to their patients and their contractual obligations to managed care organizations (MCOs). A brief review of the case law to date highlights some of the legal and ethical issues that arise for physicians who practice in this environment.

There is something about the debate over reproductive technologies of all kinds—from coerced use of Norplant to trait-selection technologies, to issues surrounding in vitro fertilization (IVF), to fetal tissue transplantation—that seems to invite dubious analogies. A Tennessee trial court termed Mary Sue and Junior Davis's frozen embryos “in vitro children” and applied a best-interests standard in awarding “custody” to Mary Sue Davis; the Warnock Committee drew an implicit analogy between human gametes and transplantable organs in its recommendation of a voluntary, nonprofit system for collecting and distributing gametes in the United Kingdom; Owen Jones compares the right to trait-selection to the right to abortion; Robert Veatch once claimed that if a woman had signed an organ donation card and then died while pregnant, she had in effect given consent to the attempt to sustain the pregnancy after her death; John Robertson has argued that contract pregnancy poses no problems we have not already encountered with adoption; and Andrea Bonnicksen has compared the wonders of preembryonic genetic screening to the riches housed in the gold museum in Bogota, Colombia.

Researchers summoned a Baltimore County woman to an office at the Johns Hopkins School of Public Health last spring to tell her the bad news. They had found a genetic threat lurking in her 7-year-old son's DNA—a mutant gene that almost always triggers a rare form of colon cancer. It was the same illness that led surgeons to remove her colon in 1979. While the boy, Michael, now 8, is still perfectly healthy, without surgery he is almost certain to develop cancer by age 40.

This genetic fortune-telling was no parlor trick. It was the product of astonishing advances in recent decades in understanding how genes build and regulate our bodies. And as scientists pinpoint new genes and learn to forecast the onset of more inherited disorders, millions of people are likely to demand their medical prognosis.

Futile treatment. Do not resuscitate (DNR). These terms and the thoughts they evoke may be unfamiliar to families with ill children. Similarly, laws, such as the Americans with Disabilities Act or the Emergency Medical Treatment and Active Labor Act, are probably unfamiliar. Yet these terms and laws, and, more important, their implications, are part of a new world of health care into which more families are thrust—the world of wrenching and complicated decisions.

Although the number of these situations is increasing and even predictable, the infrastructure of support services for families dealing with these medical decisions for seriously ill children has not been adequately addressed or developed. Parents know that some children are born with or develop serious illnesses and die. Amid absorbing large amounts of new information and interpreting the parameters and implications of what they are learning about their child's condition, families are forced by circumstances to assess—and to act on—their most critical, and perhaps previously unexamined, values.

The increased competition for a share of the market of insured patients, which arose in the wake of failed comprehensive health care reform, has provoked questions about what, if any, standards will govern new “competitive” health care organizations. Managed care arrangements, which typically shift to providers and patients some or all of the financial risk for patient care, are of special concern because they can create incentives to withhold beneficial care from patients. Of course, fee-for-service (FFS) medical practice creates incentives to provide unnecessary services, and managed care can avoid that type of harm. Still, as Edmund Pellegrino has noted, “managed care, by its nature, places the good of the patient into conflict with … (1) the good of all the other patients served by the plan; (2) the good of the plan and the organization, themselves…; and (3) the self-interest of the physician.

What I propose in this article is application of existing dispute resolution practices that take place outside the courtroom to the negotiating that takes place between health providers and families when they try to reach agreement about the limits of medical care that arguably is futile. Specifically, I focus on a bargaining paradigm that is associated with divorce proceedings, and suggest how this paradigm is at work in the conflict about futile treatment. At issue are not the well-publicized aspects of high profile cases, but the rather unpublicized bargaining that goes no further than the clinical setting.

Physicians and families who disagree about the futility of medical treatments frequently engage in give-and-take exchanges about whether to start disputed treatments, about what period of time might comprise a reasonable trial period if a treatment is to be administered, and about when and how to transfer a patient to another facility if the dispute cannot be resolved.