Down on the Transplantations by Anita Kuhn
Down on the Transplantations
Doctors Admit the Obvious: You Can’t Get
a Live Organ from a Dead Body
by Anita Kuhn
In a remarkably candid article about organ donation in the New England
Journal of Medicine (NEJM), a doctor and a bioethicist make the unnerving observation
that, in cases involving vital organs, many “donors” may not actually
be dead at the time their organs are taken from them. While this statement
corroborates the view of many pro-life groups, scientists, and physicians,
it is likely to be news to the general public.
In their article, published online on August 14, 2008, Dr. Robert D.
Truog
of Harvard Medical Center and Children’s Hospital Boston, and Dr. Franklin G.
Miller, a bioethicist at the National Institutes of Health in Bethesda, Maryland,
note that organ donation has been guided from its inception by the “dead
donor rule,” which “simply states that patients must be declared
dead before the removal of any vital organs for transplantation.” The traditional
criteria for determining death, they note, was “straightforward: patients
were dead when they were cold, blue, and stiff.”
Death Newly Defined
The problem for transplant medicine is that by the time many organs, especially
vital organs, are extracted from such donors’ bodies, they are no longer
usable for transplantation. So, in 1968, a committee formed and headed by Henry K.
Beecher at Harvard proposed a new definition of death based on so-called brain-dead
criteria: A patient with “devastating neurologic injury” could
then be considered eligible for organ removal under the dead donor rule. Brain-dead
criteria have been in use ever since.
But, Truog and Miller write, these criteria are problematical because patients
whose injuries are entirely intracranial “look very much alive: they are
warm and pink; they digest and metabolize food, excrete waste, undergo sexual
maturation, and can even reproduce. . . . The arguments about
why these patients should be considered dead have never been fully convincing.”
In recent years, another definition of death has been proposed for prospective
organ donors: cardiac death. Under cardiac criteria, a patient can be declared
dead on the basis of “irreversible cessation of cardiac function” if
his heart stops beating for as little as two to five minutes. Such a patient’s
vital organs can then be removed for transplant while they are still usable.
But the authors point out that this definition also has problems, centering
around
the meaning of the term “irreversible.” This word is commonly understood
to mean “impossible to reverse,” but it is well known that a patient
whose heart has stopped for up to five minutes can often be resuscitated. So
in order to meet the criteria of “irreversible cessation of cardiac function,” the
word “irreversible” has to be interpreted to mean “we won’t
try” to resuscitate rather than “we can’t.” The dishonesty
of this becomes apparent in what the authors describe as the paradoxical situation
in which a heart declared to have permanently lost all function while in the
chest of its original owner may in fact function very well when it has been transplanted
into the chest of another person.
Given all this, the authors candidly admit that, with respect to both “brain
death” and “cardiac death,” the justification for removing
vital organs from patients “cannot be that we are convinced they are really
dead.” In these cases, the dead donor rule may be invoked, but it is not
followed.
Organs from the Living
Of course, many persons are alive today because they
have received organ transplants under just these circumstances. Given the
fact that there already is a shortage
of viable organs for transplant, the thought of watching even more patients
die for lack of organs must be distressing for many doctors who are motivated
by
a sincere desire to save lives. This may explain why many of them have subscribed
to the brain-dead and cardiac-dead definitions despite their untenability.
They allow physicians to obtain viable organs while still technically adhering
to
the dead
donor rule.
But as the authors point out, many others see these definitions
as having been “gerrymandered” to “conform
with conditions that are most favorable for transplantation.” They preserve
the appearance of the dead donor rule but undermine its substance. And this,
the authors say, is likely to “undermine trust in the transplantation enterprise” right
at a time when authorities are trying to encourage more people to become organ
donors.
By this point, the reader may conclude that the only rightful course is
to call for medical professionals to return to a more faithful adherence to
the dead
donor rule, even though it would mean not being able to save as many transplant-needing
patients as before—at least not until other medical advances are made.
The protection of vulnerable patients, the preservation of medicine’s
moral integrity, and the restoration of public trust require it.
But that is
not the conclusion Truog and Miller reach, and, in fact, they
give hints early on that they are not headed this way. The problem, as they
see it,
lies not with those who redefined death to provide “misleading ethical
cover” for the removal of organs from patients who are not really dead,
but with the dead donor rule itself. It is the reliance on
this rule, they say,
not the manipulation of it, that has fostered “conceptual confusion
about
the ethical requirements of organ donation” and “compromised the
goals of transplantation for donors and recipients alike.”
Killing with
Consent
Their solution, therefore, is to continue using brain-dead criteria
for organ
removal, but to put procedures in place to obtain “valid informed consent” from
patients or their surrogates ahead of time. Then, not only would it be possible
to continue extracting organs from brain-dead patients, but also to obtain them
from patients who “have devastating, irreversible neurologic injuries that
do not meet the technical requirements of brain death” (emphasis
mine).
To those who object that it is unethical to remove vital organs from living
patients
because the procedure will cause the patients’ death, the authors counter
that, where brain-death and cardiac-death criteria are currently being used, “such
actions are already taking place on a routine basis.” In other words: We’re
already killing patients by removing their vital organs, so let’s keep
doing it but just make sure that we have their permission first.
They attempt to bolster this position by equating the removal of a ventilator
from a patient—which they cite as “ethically justified” under
current standards—with the removal of a vital organ, claiming that in both
cases, “the ethically relevant precondition is valid consent by the patient
or surrogate.” This fails to take into account two things.
First, there
are ethical controversies surrounding the withdrawal of life support
in various circumstances; it is not universally regarded as “ethically
justified” in all cases. Second, ethical controversies aside, there is
a distinction between removing a ventilator and removing a vital organ that needs
to be taken into account: The former involves removal of something exterior to
the patient, as a result of which he may or may not die right away; the latter
involves surgical invasion of the patient’s body and is a directly lethal
action in itself. The authors do not bring up any ethical implications arising
from this distinction, though they do seem to tacitly acknowledge it by stating
that the administration of anesthesia would be an additional ethical requirement
for organ removal.
These two “safeguards,” consent and anesthesia, are, for the authors,
sufficient to ensure that “no harm or wrong” would be done to a patient
whose organs were removed before his death. As a final bolster to this view,
they allude to surveys suggesting that “issues related to respect for valid
consent and the degree of neurologic injury may be more important to the public
than concerns about whether the patient is already dead at the time organs are
removed.”
Candor Insufficient
To be fair, the authors are talking only about patients who have “devastating,
irreversible neurologic injuries” and are very near death anyway. One can
sympathize with the frustration of a doctor who realizes that a few extra minutes
of waiting for one patient to be indisputably dead are all that stand between
him and another patient’s many years. But those few minutes encompass the
momentous difference between waiting on a person’s death and
killing him.
As mentioned above, Truog and Miller are remarkably candid in their
article, and so they unhesitatingly acknowledge that the dead donor rule has
been the
overarching ethical guideline for vital organ transplantation from the beginning.
They further acknowledge that this rule has appeared so self-evidently necessary
to prevent the abuse of vulnerable patients as to not need any “reflection
or justification.” Yet, they appear to believe that this rule can now unreflectively
be thrown out simply because transplant capability has advanced to the point
where following the rule interferes with the goal of “maximiz[ing] the
number and quality of organs available to those in need.”
The authors’ “consent and anesthesia” approach may be more
honest with patients than “gerrymandering” the definition of death,
but it is no less utilitarian. Both are devised to “conform with conditions
that are most favorable for transplantation.” Both seek to get around the
basic principle that it is wrong to remove a person’s vital organs from
him before he is dead.
But at least the definition-changers acknowledged the
basic validity of the dead donor rule even as they manipulated a way around
it. For all their
candor, Truog
and Miller have implicitly denied the most fundamental principle of all:
the right to life, from conception to natural death.
Anita Kuhn is the managing editor of Touchstone. She
lives in Chicago, where she attends St. John Cantius Roman Catholic Church.
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