The Five Colour Theorem
Karl Popper suggests
that we need social theory to be able to predict the unintended consequences
of our actions. Theorising is not an activity widespread among suburban practitioners.
It seems impertinent, and likely to expose one to public criticism and private
ridicule. As Jessica Mitford said of raising children, I say of medicine:
It is an activity which takes up all the brain, and none of the mind.
When doctors
determine who is, or is not, legitimately ill for the purpose at hand, they
are hiding behind a taken-for-granted authority and expertise in this area.
But as soon as they have to explain their decisions to ordinary men and women
and, using ordinary language, to justify why they regard one person complaining
of symptoms as ill and the other not, they soon come to the boundaries of
medical knowledge. There is a inclination to assume both good will and competence
to doctors. A refusal to share this world view is rather too frightening.
Gorovitz and McIntyre in their paper "Towards a Theory of Medical Fallibility"
warn:
"No
species of fallibility is more important than fallibility in medical practice.
The physician's propensity for damaging error is widely denied, perhaps because
it is so widely feared."
We ourselves
are in some confusion. Merskey points out that it is commonly believed that
one could get away with anything with the help of a doctor's note, and he
cites the literary example of William Wycherley's Restoration Comedy, "The
Country Wife". The plot turns on the deception practised by a man who
persuades his doctor to put it about that he has become impotent so that his
acquaintances trust him with rather ready access to their wives and daughters.
Other possibilities include release from military service, disability payments
and nursing and domestic help services, as well as legal excuses and entitlement
to altered family relationships. The key to this is that the doctor must state
that the patient has a disease. Merskey, a psychiatrist suggested
"that
what doctors treat can be accepted as disease provided that we recognise that
the significance of disease must vary with circumstances."
Kendell argues
that "equating illness with complaint allows the individual to be the
sole arbiter of whether he is ill" and any definition of disease that
boils down to "what patients complain of" and "what doctors
treat" is worse than no definition at all, as:
"disease
is free to expand and contract with changes in social attitudes and therapeutic
optimism and is at the mercy of idiosyncratic decisions by doctors and patients".
Merskey's view
however should not be dismissed lightly. The definition fails and must fail
because it is entirely circular, yet it cannot be ignored as it is precisely
this view of illness and disease that informs today's debate, passes for "common
knowledge" and forms the rationale for the interventions of doctors into
all spheres of life. It is the view that the public and the courts tend to
adopt in compensation matters.
Kraupl-Taylor
tries harder and defines
"an
elementary morbus which is one which originates in a particular kind of past
pathological event. Its diagnosis depends on the discoverable presence of
pathological abnormalities which are concomitant with clinical manifestations,
if any, from which the original past pathological event can be inferred. Elementary
morbi are the disease entities of today."
So he says. My
experience suggests that some morbidity did not originate in any pathological
event, but in a normal physiological event which was medicalised.
In an ideal world
to have a morbus would be consistent with being in the "sick role",
as defined by Talcott Parsons, eager to recover, and receiving rational and
effective therapies from affectively neutral physicians. The ideal is defined
in terms of the assumed good intentions of both parties. However neither doctors
nor patients conform to Parsons' idealised affective neutrality, nor are they
steeped in ideology, nor innocent of fiscal motivation. Some get mindlessly
involved in the pas de deux of giving and receiving interventions, code named
treatments.
Baroness Wootton
suggests that a distinction be made between "what doctors treat"
and "what is treatable by medical means", that is between what doctors
do when they are behaving in the special fashion peculiar to their profession,
and what they do when they drop the Aesculapian mantle and behave as ordinary
men and women."
In trying to
theorise a model of understanding the elements that contribute to morbidity,
I soon found that the language of medicine was inadequate for the purpose.
The medical model or bio-psycho-social model is commonly offered and used
for medical, educational, social and political purposes.
It is two dimensional
and can be drawn on a sheet of paper, but this perhaps limits our capacity
to conceptualise interactions to only three considerations. These are generally
represented as intersecting circles and, on paper, a little doodling will
show that no more than four shapes can be made to intersect each other while
having a border with each of the other two, both together, and separately.
This is called the four colour theorem, as yet an unproven mathematical curiosity,
first put forward by Charles Dodgson who also wrote Alice in Wonderland.
However, if one
adds a third dimension and conceptualises one more octopus-like tubular, plastic
fifth element, touching all of them and potentially drawing on all the others,
both together and separately, one can construct in plasticine, but not draw,
part of the model that I am proposing.
My model of sickness
consists of five concepts: disease, illness, malady, physiological event and
morbidity.
All are interdependent
as well as being influenced by any number of social, medical, political, economic
and cultural considerations.
Physiological
event, defined intuitively, is my addition. I have borrowed disease, illness
and malady and the fifth, morbidity, that equates with therapeutic concern
and can be measured in terms of days lost to disability and cost.
The five colour
"morbus model" is not offered as a new classification, but as an
arena in which opinions about the nature of health, the interrelationships
of disease, illness, physiological events and maladies to each other, and
to morbi and morbidity, can be scrutinised and unravelled. These are of interest
to medical researchers, clinicians, sociologists, legislators, economists,
biologists and others.
Clarification
of our thinking here will differentiate us from those who routinely take the
apparent for the real, such as judges, juries, physiotherapists, chiropractors,
paramedical staff, ergonomists, and "RSI" workers. If things were
always as they seemed, experts would be redundant. Ordinary people seem to
know intuitively if their friends or relations are afflicted with disease
or demonstrating one of the many forms of illness-like behaviour. Perhaps
it is not in the interests of large segments of the practising medical profession
to know the difference. Empirical therapies, currently promoted by academics
who should know better, in articles on the drug treatment of illness behaviour,
would have to be abandoned in favour of more rational interventions. However
such knowledge might influence how future generations of doctors are educated,
so they do not lose therapeutic jurisdiction over, and are able to handle
more rationally, the non-disease problems that patients present.
First the definitions:
Both the terms
illness and disease, in which health is generally perceived, predated scientific
medicine and the identification of most of what we now classify as disease.
They are often defined each in terms of the other. The needs of the discourse
are better served by the attribution of standardised meanings for the terms
"illness" and "disease" and these were provided by Barondess,
and widely cited in journals of philosophy of medicine.
Disease
may be viewed as a biological event, characterised by anatomic physiologic
or biochemical changes or by some mixture of these. It is a disruption in
the structure and/or function of a body part or system. It may be due to a
variety of causes, may persist, advance or regress through a variety of mechanisms
and may or may not be clinically apparent.
Illness,
on the other hand, is not a biologic but a human event. It consists of an
array of discomforts and psychosocial dislocations, resulting from interactions
of a person with his environment. The environmental stimulus may be a disease
but frequently it is not. (It has been estimated that 50 per cent of clinical
contacts are for complaints without a definable biologic basis); It may be
a stressful series of life events or a set of reactions to perceived threats
which are largely symbolic.
Culver and Gert
defined malady as:
"...a
condition, (other than his rational belief and desire) such that he is suffering
or is more likely to suffer an evil (death, pain, disability), loss of freedom
or opportunity or loss of pleasure in the absence of a distinct sustaining
cause."
This includes
hypertension as it increases risk of heart attack or stroke, predisposition
to allergy, menopause, menstruation and pregnancy. I would include congenital
anomalies, diaphragmatic weakness, but exclude the women's troubles already
criticised on feminist grounds by Michael Martin.
The physiological
event can be defined intuitively as one experienced by most persons at some
time. Physiological events would include pregnancy, childbirth, menopause,
fatigue, hunger, fear, growing pains, grief, worries, ageing and the process
of dying.
It is taken for
granted that disease, illness, maladies and physiological events interact.
How, when and why they interact to produce a morbus or measurable morbidity
is the subject of concern for an expert witness in a medico legal case.
Symptoms and
discomforts are a universal human experience. Most are readily recognised
and dismissed by the individual as trivial. A small segment come, sooner or
later, to the attention of the orthodox health care system.
Illness and disease
are not congruent; indeed either may be present in the absence of the other.
Illness in the absence of disease, however is congruent with the notion of
"illness behaviour" or somatization.
The relationship
between them is taken for granted but it is actually obscure; one recalls
that some traumas and diseases are inevitably accompanied by illness. Others
are not associated with illness or morbidity until it is too late. A "symptomatic
psychosis" may irregularly occur with a number of physical disease entities.
Does epilepsy or a brain tumour cause a psychotic illness by virtue of its
position, or does it release a toxic neurotransmitter? Why does it not happen
every time? Or is a symptomatic psychosis a reaction to an ill perceived threat?
I have no intention
of trying to categorise the various ills that beset the human race into these
or any other categories. Some categorisation would be clear, based on biological
that is normative criteria, other categorisations would be evaluative. Where
to place other ailments could take up a week's seminar to decide, and depends
on vagaries such as the weather. To a large degree categorisation is fluid
and dependent on epistemic, social, contextual and political factors, as well
as on the perceptions of experts and others.
All four components
of morbidity might be seen as merging into each other. The determinants of
their interfaces are to be examined.
Operating alone,
each might be of clinical or social consequence; under some circumstances
one, two or more of them might create a morbus and become an area of clinical
concern. Contemporary clinical concerns arise out of the medicalisation of
fatigue, discomfort, unhappiness, anger, failure and the expected consequence
of having been carpeted for bad behaviour.
Sedgwick speaks
of the politicalization of medical goals and argues that
"The future belongs to illness; we are going to get more
and more disease since our expectations of health are going to become more expansive
and sophisticated".
There are very
good reasons why we might want to know what it is that constitutes morbidity.
When the need to manage decreasing resources demands rational behaviour, appropriate
action can be taken to encourage doctors to spend their time, and taxpayers'
money, on activities that revitalise, rather than disable, those who might
otherwise cope.
Can we, for example,
articulate why it is that when the national health scheme, Medibank, was first
introduced, each Australian made an average of 2.2 visits each year, and now
he or she attends between six or seven times. Do we know if an improvement
in the nation's health has resulted from such activity?
Do we know why
it was that industrial accidents fell by 30,000 in NSW in 1983, and similarly
in other states and the costs of workers' compensation, reflected in premiums,
went from 286 million in fiscal 1980 over the following four years to 666
million? What it suggests is that the health of the working population deteriorated.
Was this morbidity measured in dollars and in time lost from work? In other
countries, a push towards occupational Health and safety also resulted in
the over medicalisation of occupational illness.
The Law utilises
a concept of legal causation which has little if any relationship to medical
causes. Legal causation leads to absurd consequences, and legitimates much
irrational treatment. However judges do not consider the effects of their
decisions on the practice of doctors. If doctors lack theory can we expect
reason from others?
Supreme Court
decisions have been taken to the effect that "functional disorder"
is an injury, which in fact is precisely what it is not; that alcohol abuse,
but not opiate abuse, is a disease, that a toxic delirium is a disease of
mind, that attitudinal pathosis is a compensable disorder and that personality
disorders and multiple sclerosis are caused by stress. In a more rational
world a court might seek enlightenment as to how certain events are to be
viewed in relation to others. A judge might like to know how we reach the
decision concerning the end of aggravation of a disease process and the beginning
of illness behaviour. Does illness behaviour have an external cause, determinants
which are in the area of "wants" and "desires" or does
it have meaning? Can it be viewed in a determinist framework in one jurisdiction
and not in another? Why is there no consistency in social theory here? . Instead,
decisions on legal causation adopt Mandelbrot's Chaos theory which predicts
that a butterfly flapping its wings in South America contributes to a hurricane
in Florida three months later.
Clear thinking
might allow us to have an input into many situations. A person might seek
to have his or her condition, say spondylolisthesis or allergy to cats defined
as malady for the purpose of getting employment or for getting disability
insurance. Later he might want it redefined as disease for the purpose of
compensation. A law might be needed to identify those with maladies in such
a way that the employer need not fear employing them, releasing subjects from
the stigma of discrimination and at the same time relieving employers of responsibility
for their potential handicaps.
A legislator
might seek to reduce costs of insurance premiums and might ask how this can
be most equitably done, with the helplessly diseased winnowed out of the unconsciously
motivated ill; how the culpable employer might be separated from the blameless
one, and not penalised as happens now.
The medical profession
has itself to blame.
If doctors were to adopt a position which is not so medico-centric, not so
reliant on medical power, not wishing for greater therapeutic jurisdiction,
then the numerous problems of definition and relationship in the arena between
medicine and society might be better addressed by them than by those judges,
politicians, trade union officials, lawyers and legislators, who now resolve
them now in the absence of understanding.
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