Extracorporeal membrane oxygenation (ECMO) is typically viewed as a time-limited intervention—a bridge to recovery or transplant—not a destination therapy. However, some patients with decision-making capacity request continued ECMO support despite a poor prognosis for recovery and lack of viability as a transplant candidate. In response, critical care teams have asked for guidance regarding the ethical permissibility of unilateral withdrawal over the objections of a capacitated patient. In this article, we evaluate several ethical arguments that have been made in favor of (...) withdrawal, including distributive justice, quality of life, patients’ rights, professional integrity, and the Equivalence Thesis. We find that existing justifications for unilateral withdrawal of ECMO support in capacitated patients are problematic, which leads us to conclude that either: (1) additional ethical arguments are necessary to defend this approach or (2) the claim that it is not appropriate to use ECMO as a destination therapy should be questioned. (shrink)

Readers have much to consider when evaluating Greenblum and Hubbard’s conclusion that ‘physicians have no business doing theology’.1 The two central arguments the authors offer are fairly convincing within the confines they set for themselves, the provisos they stipulate and their notions of ‘privacy’ and ‘public reason’. However, I would ask readers to consider two questions, the answers to which I believe the authors leave opaque. First, what is theological negotiation? Second, what makes chaplains the singular group of healthcare professionals (...) responsible for theological negotiation? In this Commentary, I explore these questions not with the goal of rejecting the authors’ conclusion, but rather with the goal of highlighting relevant considerations when evaluating the authors’ central tenets. First, I would like readers to consider Greenblum and Hubbard’s descriptions of theological negotiation. They categorise theological negotiation into metaphysical, normative and alternative responses, and hold that this kind of negotiation is, for the most part, impermissible for healthcare professionals, save chaplains.1 The examples of Dr Chatterjee and Dr Thompson expand theological negotiation to include instances where physicians add a theological veneer to their clinical recommendations. In both the examples, the physician has made the case for accepting or rejecting a certain intervention—for Dr Chatterjee, accepting …. (shrink)

Although shared decision-making is a standard in medical care, unilateral decisions through process-based conflict resolution policies have been defended in certain cases. In patients who do not stand to receive proportional clinical benefits, the harms involved in interventions such as cardiopulmonary resuscitation seem to run contrary to the principle of non-maleficence, and provision of such interventions may cause clinicians significant moral distress. However, because the application of these policies involves taking choices out of the domain of shared decision-making, they face (...) important ethical and legal problems, including a recent challenge to their constitutionality. In light of these concerns, we suggest a re-conceptualization of informed non-dissent as an alternative approach in cases where the application of process-based policies is being considered. This clinician-directed communication model still preserves what is valuable in such policies and salvages professional integrity, while minimising ethical and legal challenges. (shrink)

Mr. M is an eighty-five-year-old who presented to the hospital with congestive heart failure exacerbation, pneumonia, altered mental status, and sepsis. A physician determines that he lacks capacity, and the team in the intensive care unit looks to the patient's daughter, Celia, as his surrogate decision-maker because she is named as an agent in his medical power of attorney form. While in the ICU, Mr. M suffers acute respiratory distress secondary to pneumonia and thus requires intubation. Celia accepts several life-sustaining (...) interventions, but she sporadically refuses other medically indicated therapies. Although providers explain the importance of the ICU insulin regimen for glucose control, she either refuses the insulin or requests a lower dose. The health care team believes that it is providing substandard care and that Celia's medical decisions are not in the patient's best interests, so they request an ethics consultation. When the clinical ethicist attempts to talk with Celia, she refuses to speak with him, saying flatly, “I am not interested in talking with you.” The clinical ethicist meets with Celia on a couple of occasions, but she consistently refuses to have a conversation with him. He wonders if the patient's surrogate decision-maker can refuse a clinical ethics consultation and is unsure what his next steps should be. (shrink)

The Covid‐19 pandemic has brought about renewed conversation about equality and equity in the distribution of medical resources. Much of the recent conversation has focused on creating and implementing policies in times of crisis when resources are exhausted. Depending on how the pandemic develops, some communities may implement crisis measures, but many health care facilities are currently experiencing shortages of staff and materials even if the facilities have not implemented crisis standards. There is a need for shared conversation about equality (...) and equity in these times of contingency between conventional and crisis medicine. To respond well to these challenges, I recommend that institutions rely on policy, professional education, and ethics consultation. As is the case with crisis policies, creating contingency policies requires that health care professionals decide on how, specifically, to achieve equity. A policy is only as effective as its implementation; therefore, institutions should invest in context‐specific education on contingency policies. Finally, ethics consultation should be available for questions that contingency policies cannot address. (shrink)

Lei, a twenty‐seven‐year‐old Mandarin speaker, visits the United States seeking curative treatments for his acute myeloid leukemia. His mother, Hua, has traveled with him. Neither she nor Lei speak English, and the hospital does not have an onsite professional Mandarin‐speaking interpreter. Using a professional interpreter over the phone, Lei's oncologist, Dr. Branson, attempts to initiate a face‐to‐face goals‐of‐care conversation with Hua as the surrogate decision‐maker. Dr. Branson explains that Lei has “only weeks to months to live” and recommends initiating comfort‐care‐only (...) measures, but Hua says that she wants (and that Lei would want) continued aggressive measures. Hua says that her son might be a candidate for a phase I trial. Eventually, Dr. Branson brings in Dr. Chou, a Mandarin‐speaking resident to provide face‐to‐face interpretation. Hua insists that “there must be more standard therapies available” and says that she will wait until the trial begins. She begins crying, and the meeting disintegrates. Following this, Dr. Branson calls for an ethics consultation for “help in end‐of‐life communicating and reconciling discordance about prognostic information.”How should the ethicist use the institution's interpreter services? (shrink)