Today’s topic is experiments—or more precisely, what happens when we avoid doing them. Like many things in my life, I encountered this issue during my time as a patient in the burn department. Back then, they used pressure bandages. What are pressure bandages? Essentially, they are garments designed to cover every scarred area of the body. In my case, since so much of my body was affected, they created a head cover with holes for my eyes, mouth, nostrils, and ears. I had a long-sleeved shirt, gloves, and even something for the lower half of my body. Picture me as a version of Spiderman, but instead of red and blue, my suit was brown and rough. The theory was that these bandages would press and rub against the burned skin, softening it.
Putting on these bandages was real torture. Sometimes they would tear my skin because they were so rough. They were also hot and itchy, making it hard to move freely—definitely not like Spiderman. I asked the doctors about evidence supporting their effectiveness. They showed me a paper, but it wasn’t very convincing. Essentially, I was enduring significant pain for something that lacked solid evidence.
Interestingly enough, the top of my thighs didn’t have burns; this area was used to harvest skin for grafting onto other parts of my body. They would use something resembling a cheese slicer to take small pieces of skin while I was anesthetized and graft them elsewhere every two weeks. Knowing this, I proposed an experiment: create identical burns on both thighs and apply pressure bandages to one leg but not the other. This way, we could see if the bandages really worked.
Despite my willingness to undergo this experiment for the sake of better understanding—and potentially helping other patients—the doctors deemed it unethical. After leaving the hospital, I became passionate about experiments as a means to truly uncover what works.
Here’s the crux of today’s discussion: while ethical concerns about conducting certain experiments are valid, is it also ethical to avoid them? We often rely on untested methodologies simply because somebody likes the theory behind them. Is that ethical? Many patients like myself might be willing to endure more experiments because we understand how crucial it is to gain knowledge rather than remain in the dark.
Consider the analogy of car scratches: a new car’s first scratch feels awful, but subsequent scratches are less bothersome. For people like me with numerous scars, another one isn’t a big deal. But beyond personal tolerance lies a bigger issue: those who navigate the medical system realize how much improvement is needed. We understand the importance of knowing over not knowing and recognize the gaps in current knowledge.
This brings me to two main points: First, many patients are willing to participate in experiments while alive—not just posthumously—because we grasp their significance. Second, we need to challenge existing practices more aggressively because maintaining the status quo might seem ethical but sometimes isn’t.
So there you have it—some thoughts on the ethics of experimentation versus maintaining untested practices.
