Medical Apartheid: The Dark History of Medical Experimentation on Black Americans from Colonial Times to the Present |
Buy Medical Apartheid: The Dark History of Medical Experimentation on Black Americans from Colonial Times to the Present here, one of 749 American History books offered for sale at discount prices here in the history books section at R bookshop. There are currently 69419 history books in our history books section, and over 1,000,000 books listed in our book store. We greatly appreciate your patronage at R bookshop and look forward to offering you a large selection of great books at discount prices now and in the future. Thank you for shopping at R Bookshop!
|
You Are Here: Home > History Books > American History > Item 14
 |
Medical Apartheid: The Dark History of Medical Experimentation on Black Americans from Colonial Times to the Present
|
by Harriet A. Washington
Sales Rank: 12032

|
Discount: 32 %
List Price: $15.95
$11.16
At Amazon on 4-19-2008.

|
|
|
|
Features
Cover Type: Paperback with 528 pages
Published by: Harlem Moon; Reprint edition January 8, 2008
Written in: English
ISBN 10 Number: 076791547X
ISBN 13 Number: 978-0767915472
Book Dimensions:
8 x 5.4 x 1.3 inches
Weighs: 4.5 pounds
From Publishers Weekly
Starred Review. This groundbreaking study documents that the infamous Tuskegee experiments, in which black syphilitic men were studied but not treated, was simply the most publicized in a long, and continuing, History of the American Medical establishment using African-Americans as unwitting or unwilling human guinea pigs. Washington, a journalist and bioethicist who has worked at Harvard Medical School and Tuskegee University, has accumulated a wealth of documentation, beginning with Thomas Jefferson exposing hundreds of slaves to an untried smallpox vaccine before using it on whites, to the 1990s, when the New York State Psychiatric Institute and Columbia University ran drug experiments on African-American and black Dominican boys to determine a genetic predisposition for "disruptive behavior." Washington is a great storyteller, and in addition to giving us an abundance of information on "scientific racism," the book, even at its most distressing, is compulsively readable. It covers a wide range of topics—the History of hospitals not charging black patients so that, after death, their bodies could be used for anatomy classes; the exhaustive research done on black prisoners throughout the 20th century—and paints a powerful and disturbing portrait of medicine, race, sex and the abuse of power. (Dec. 26) Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
--This text refers to the
Hardcover
edition.
From The Washington Post's Book World/washingtonpost.com
Reviewed by Alondra Nelson The Tuskegee Syphilis Study remains an ignominious milestone in the intertwined histories of race and Medical science in U.S. society. Initiated in 1932, this tragic 40-year long public health project resulted in almost 400 impoverished and unwitting African American men in Macon County, Ala., being left untreated for syphilis. Researchers wanted to observe how the disease progressed differently in blacks in its late stages and to examine its devastating effects with postmortem dissection.
A fresh account of the Tuskegee study, including new information about the internal politics of the panel charged by the Department of Health, Education and Welfare with investigating it in 1972, lies at the center of Harriet A. Washington's courageous and poignant book. The balance of Medical Apartheid reveals, with arresting detail, that this scandal was neither the first chapter nor the last in the exploitation of black subjects in U.S. Medical research. Tuskegee was, in the author's words, "the longest and most infamous -- but hardly the worst -- experimental abuse of African Americans. It has been eclipsed in both numbers and egregiousness by other abusive Medical studies."
Although Medical experimentation with human subjects has historically involved vulnerable groups, including children, the poor and the institutionalized, Washington enumerates how black Americans have disproportionately borne the burden of the most invasive, inhumane and perilous Medical investigations, from the era of Slavery to the present day. (This burden has become global in the last few decades.) In 1855, John "Fed" Brown, an escaped slave, recalled that the doctor to whom he was indentured produced painful blisters on his body in order to observe "how deep my black skin went." This study had no therapeutic value. Rather, fascination with the outward appearance of African Americans, whose differences from whites were thought to be more than skin deep, was a significant impulse driving such Medical trials.
Shielding whites from excruciating experimental procedures also proved a powerful motivation. J. Marion Sims, a leading 19th-century physician and former president of the American Medical Association (AMA), developed many of his gynecological treatments through experiments on slave women who were not granted the comfort of anesthesia. Sims's legacy is Janus-faced; he was pitiless with non-consenting research subjects, yet he was among the first doctors of the modern era to emphasize women's health. Other researchers were more guilty of blind ambition than racist intent. Several African Americans, including such as Eunice Rivers, the nurse-steward of the Tuskegee study, served as liaisons between scientists and research subjects.
The infringement of black Americans' rights to their own bodies in the name of Medical science continued throughout the 20th century. In 1945, Ebb Cade, an African American trucker being treated for injuries received in an accident in Tennessee, was surreptitiously placed without his consent into a radiation experiment sponsored by the U.S. Atomic Energy Commission. Black Floridians were deliberately exposed to swarms of mosquitoes carrying yellow fever and other diseases in experiments conducted by the Army and the CIA in the early 1950s. Throughout the 1950s and '60s, black inmates at Philadelphia's Holmesburg Prison were used as research subjects by a University of Pennsylvania dermatologist testing pharmaceuticals and personal hygiene products; some of these subjects report pain and disfiguration even now. During the 1960s and '70s, black boys were subjected to sometimes paralyzing neurosurgery by a University of Mississippi researcher who believed brain pathology to be the root of the children's supposed hyperactive behavior. In the 1990s, African American youths in New York were injected with Fenfluramine -- half of the deadly, discontinued weight loss drug Fen-Phen -- by Columbia researchers investigating a hypothesis about the genetic origins of violence.
Washington's litany of experimental misdeeds done to African Americans is more extensive than can be described here. With such damning evidence, one wonders why she felt it necessary to include examples that, while clearly offensive, do not rise to the threshold of Medical experimentation. For instance, supporters of slavery, to justify the peculiar institution, cited data from the 1840 census showing that free African Americans had poorer mental and physical health than enslaved blacks. Nonetheless, taking ideological liberties with questionable statistics is not, in and of itself, an example of Medical experimentation, nor was circus impresario P.T. Barnum's display of black Americans as entertainment. While demonstrating the widespread exploitation of blacks, it confuses the thrust of Washington's argument.
But Washington also sheds light on how our understanding of what constitutes Medical research requires broadening in the face of new developments in genetic science. Federal and state forensic DNA databases contain a disproportionate number of samples from African Americans, for example. Because genetic samples collected for this purpose carry information about a subject's health, blacks are particularly vulnerable to the exposure of sensitive Medical information. And although experimentation with human subjects is less invasive than it once was, Washington cautions that it is no less injurious. Researchers still need to be mindful of the rights of their subjects.
Given the History presented in Medical Apartheid, it is no surprise that some African Americans continue to regard the Medical system with apprehension, despite more stringent safeguards enacted by the federal government in the 1970s. Washington attributes this outlook, which she calls iatrophobia, to the seeds of distrust sown in black communities by the Tuskegee scandal and a History of lesser-known mistreatment.
Washington, a visiting fellow at Chicago's DePaul University, intends that Medical Apartheid serve a socially therapeutic -- if not cathartic -- function. Laying bare these atrocities, her logic goes, will foster healing and frank but necessary conversation. Clearing the air may encourage a better informed African American public to participate in clinical trials.
Despite the author's best intentions, the scale and persistence of the "dark history" she shows may well preclude such a development. Precisely because Washington's account of racially stratified Medical exploitation is so gripping, it may be difficult for the public to muster enthusiasm to enter clinical trials, no matter their cultural background. And with the experimental research burden shifting from Americans of African descent to Africa itself (which Washington calls a "continent of subjects"), Asia, and Latin America, where some cavalier researchers are seeking more plentiful and pliant subjects, readers may be more convinced than ever of the durability of the Medical color line.
Reviewed by Alondra Nelson Copyright 2007, The Washington Post. All Rights Reserved.
--This text refers to the
Hardcover
edition.
Reader Reviews
This review is from: Medical Apartheid: The Dark History of Medical Experimentation on Black Americans from Colonial Times to the Present (Hardcover)
Medical Apartheid was well-articulated and researched book, which all blacks must read including educators, doctors, nurses, and scientist. The book bought tears to my eyes because blacks today we are still being experimented on like lab rats and genocide secretly by our federal and state government thought medical, biological, and chemical research that are not design to save us medically. The abuse our ancestors and present day blacks have to endure by the hands of the oppressor (Private and Public institutions). The so-called "American forefather of Medicine" should have been executed or burned without going to trial for their inhumane acts perform blacks and humanity. Can you picture you go to move your deceased love from one cemetery to another better-groomed cemetery to unearth THE PLOT IS EMPTY. Addie Mae Collins, one of four young girls killed in the bombing of the Sixteenth Street Baptist Church Birmingham, Alabama. Addie Mae Collin Family wanted to relocate Addie Mae's grave due to the unacceptable condition of Greenwood Cemetery. When the crew went to dig up Addie Mae Collin the plot was empty (NO BODY OR COFFIN). The oppressor does not respect us when we are breathing or deceased! I do have utmost respect for the doctors that are genuinely sincere about decrease black's health issues. In addition, MS. Washington is right that black must "transform our attitudes toward medical research and to demand our place at the table to enjoy the rich bounty of the American Medical system in the form of longer, healthier lives." Respect
Comments (2) | Permalink |
(Report this)
Back To Top
|
Medical Apartheid: The Dark History of Medical Experimentation on Black Americans from Colonial Times to the Present
Available from Amazon
Price: $11.16
Updated on 4-19-2008.

|
NOTICE: All prices, availability, and specifications
are subject to verification by their respective retailers.
| We offer Medical Apartheid: The Dark History of Medical Experimentation on Black Americans from Colonial Times to the Present and other related American History Books here at Rbookshop.com. To view more books about American History please use the previous and next buttons near the top of this page.
|
|