Results by title

Is drunkenness a defense for murder? In the early nineteenth century, the answer was a resounding no. Intoxication was considered voluntary, and thus provided no defense. Yet as the century progressed, American courts began to extend exculpatory value to heavy drinking. The medicalization of alcohol use created new categories of mental illness which, alongside changes in the law, formed the basis for defense arguments that claimed unintended consequences and lack of criminal intent. Concurrently, advocates of prohibition cast “demon rum” and the “rum-seller” as the drunkard's accomplices in crime, mitigating offenders' actions. By the postbellum period, a backlash, led by medical professionals and an influential temperance movement, left the legacy of an unsettled legal standard.

In A Drunkard's Defense, Michele Rotunda examines a variety of court cases to explore the attitudes of nineteenth-century physicians, legal professionals, temperance advocates, and ordinary Americans toward the relationship between drunkenness, violence, and responsibility, providing broader insights into the country's complicated relationship with alcohol.

A sobering assessment of the systematic failures of mental health work.

The United States is in the midst of a mental health crisis that cannot be ignored. Its effects are visible in overcrowded emergency rooms, homeless encampments, and frequent encounters between police and people with serious mental illness. And yet, our attempts to support people with mental illness—from medical care to housing support to basic hygiene—seem to never take meaningful hold despite the tireless work of professionals who attempt to help people bring together the pieces of a life. The problem is not in any individual effort though; it’s in the many ways these programs fail to work together. For those with serious mental illness, and those who work to ameliorate it, there is no system. There is only mess. 

In A Mad Mess, sociologist Owen Whooley uncovers the exasperating barriers, bureaucratic mismatches, and threadbare resources that have made a mess of what should be a supportive system. Set in Albuquerque, New Mexico—a city whose struggles echo those of communities nationwide—the book reveals the challenges mental health workers face daily, from tedious paperwork to occasional violence. Whooley follows workers across local outpatient service organizations, specialized police mental health units, and a psychiatric emergency department. Despite mostly good intentions and sometimes heroic efforts, he shows why this important work so often ends in failure. 

Written with deep sympathy and unflinching honesty, A Mad Mess reveals how the lack of a cohesive mental health system obstructs critical care and places roadblocks before front-line mental health workers at every turn. Most critically, for those who suffer from severe mental illness, these setbacks are a constant reminder that the institutions charged with helping them have left them on their own.

In this sequel to The Wounded Storyteller, Arthur W. Frank reminds us of the power of narrative in the lives of ill people and those who care for them. 

The Wounded Storyteller became a classic by witnessing the voices of ill people, recognizing how they express themselves in three prevalent narratives: restitution stories, evocations of chaos, and quest stories. Thirty years later, Frank expands this framework. He proposes a fourth narrative: one that seeks no restitution, claims no quest, yet feels no chaos—the stillness narrative. This story allows us to see more clearly our interdependence as well as the wisdom of uncertainty; it also teaches the value of letting go and waiting. 

In the stillness narrative, Frank finds new opportunities for dialogue with clinical professionals. They too need healing, and healing moments occur when everyone recognizes their mutual, if asymmetrical, dependence. As Frank tells the stories that won’t leave him, he guides readers toward understanding how the stories they tell and hear affect their capacity to heal both themselves and others.

In Acts of Resistance, Katharina Rynkiewich explores the fight to save the utility of antibiotic medicines amid global antimicrobial resistance. This engaging ethnography follows bacteria, patients, and practitioners as they weave in and out of North American medical institutions. Through an examination of the social dynamics and ethical challenges of everyday antibiotic use, the author expands on the limitations of good intentions in current antibiotic stewardship policy. Her ethnographic account shows the lived experience of multiple central figures as she shifts setting and tone, ultimately deepening our understanding of the global antimicrobial resistance crisis as emergency.

Due to the global scale of impact related to antimicrobial resistance, holding industries and institutions accountable is difficult but essential. With new and reemerging multidrug-resistant organisms making their homes within institutions and in the community, tracing the origins of an infection can be an insurmountable challenge. Rynkiewich demonstrates how “microbial highways” coexist along human highways, providing an apt example of how multidrug-resistant organisms spread across hospitals, communities, and entire regions.

Taking on what one former U.S. ambassador called “the last ghost of the Vietnam War,” this book examines the far-reaching impact of Agent Orange, the most infamous of the dioxin-contaminated herbicides used by American forces in Southeast Asia. Edwin A. Martini's aim is not simply to reconstruct the history of the “chemical war” but to investigate the ongoing controversy over the short- and long-term effects of weaponized defoliants on the environment of Vietnam, on the civilian population, and on the troops who fought on both sides.

Beginning in the early 1960s, when Agent Orange was first deployed in Vietnam, Martini follows the story across geographical and disciplinary boundaries, looking for answers to a host of still unresolved questions. What did chemical manufacturers and American policymakers know about the effects of dioxin on human beings, and when did they know it? How much do scientists and doctors know even today? Should the use of Agent Orange be considered a form of chemical warfare? What can, and should, be done for U.S. veterans, Vietnamese victims, and others around the world who believe they have medical problems caused by Agent Orange?

Martini draws on military records, government reports, scientific research, visits to contaminated sites, and interviews to disentangle conflicting claims and evaluate often ambiguous evidence. He shows that the impact of Agent Orange has been global in its reach affecting individuals and communities in New Zealand, Australia, Korea, and Canada as well as Vietnam and the United States. Yet for all the answers it provides, this book also reveals how much uncertainty—scientific, medical, legal, and political—continues to surround the legacy of Agent Orange.

Virtually every American alive has at some point consumed at least one, and very likely more, consciousness altering drug. Even those who actively eschew alcohol, tobacco, and coffee cannot easily avoid the full range of psychoactive substances pervading the culture. With many children now taking Ritalin for Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, professional athletes relying on androstenidione to bulk up, and the chronically depressed resorting to selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors such as Prozac, the early twenty-first century appears no less rife with drugs than previous periods.

Yet, if the use of drugs is a constant in American history, the way they have been perceived has varied extensively. Just as the corrupting cigarettes of the early twentieth century ("coffin nails" to contemporaries) became the glamorous accessory of Hollywood stars and American GIs in the 1940s, only to fall into public disfavor later as an unhealthy and irresponsible habit, the social significance of every drug changes over time. 

The essays in this volume explore these changes, showing how the identity of any psychoactive substance—from alcohol and nicotine to cocaine and heroin—owes as much to its users, their patterns of use, and the cultural context in which the drug is taken, as it owes to the drug's documented physiological effects. Rather than seeing licit drugs and illicit drugs, recreational drugs and medicinal drugs, “hard” drugs and “soft” drugs as mutually exclusive categories, the book challenges readers to consider the ways in which drugs have shifted historically from one category to another. 

In addition to the editors, contributors include Jim Baumohl, Allan M. Brandt, Katherine Chavigny, Timothy Hickman, Peter Mancall, Michelle McClellan, Steven J. Novak, Ron Roizen, Lori Rotskoff, Susan L. Speaker, Nicholas Weiss, and William White.

A major new reading of a U.S. public health system shaped by fraught perceptions of culture, race, and criminality

At the heart of Archiving Medical Violence is an interrogation of the notions of national and scientific progress, marking an advance in scholarship that shows how such violence is both an engine of medical progress and, more broadly, the production of empire. It reads the medical archive through a lens that centers how it is produced, remembered, and contested within cultural production and critical memory.

In this innovative and interdisciplinary book, Christopher Perreira argues that it is in the contradictions of settler colonialism and racial capitalism that we find how medical violence is narrated as a public good. He presents case studies from across a range of locations—Hawai‘i, California, Louisiana, Guatemala—and historical periods from the nineteenth century on. Examining national and scientific conceptions of progress through the lens of medicine and public health, he places official archives in dialogue with visual and literary works, patient writing, and more. 

Archiving Medical Violence explores the contested public terrains for narrating value and vulnerabilities, bodies and geographical locations. Ultimately, Perreira reveals for us a medical imaginary built on racialized criminality driving contemporary politics of citizenship, memory, and identity.

Retail e-book files for this title are screen-reader friendly with images accompanied by short alt text and/or extended descriptions.