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Korea provides an interesting comparison with Japan. Both countries have a very high rate of abortion, but in Japan it is legal (since 1948) whereas in Korea, it is not. Annual figures of between one and two million are quoted for Korea, a country with a population of around 46 million. Over a quarter of the population are Buddhists, which makes them the main religious group. Statistics quoted by Tedesco (1999) reveal that Buddhists are slightly more likely to have abortions than other segments of the population. In 1985, an anti-abortion movement began to gain ground following the publication of a book by the Venerable Sok Myogak (1985), a Buddhist monk of the Chogye order. His book, entitled My Dear Baby, Please Forgive Me! became popular, and readers began to demand rites and services for aborted children similar to the Japanese mizuko kuyo service, although distinctively Korean in form.
Some Western Buddhists take a more liberal stance on the abortion question. James Hughes (1999) suggested that ‘‘clear and defensible distinctions can be made between fetuses and other human life,’’ and found the moral logic of utilitarianism persuasive in the context of abortion, although tempered by the requirements of a virtue ethic, which takes into account the mindset of the actors. Abortion may, therefore, be allowable where the intention is compassionate and the act achieves the best outcome for all concerned. One American Zen Buddhist group, the Diamond Sangha, has produced a liturgy that can be performed following an abortion or miscarriage.
Euthanasia
By euthanasia is meant intentionally causing the death of a patient by act or omission in the context of medical care. We are concerned here only with voluntary euthanasia, that is, when a mentally competent patient freely requests medical help in ending his life.
As a case of intentionally taking life, euthanasia is generally regarded as prohibited by the First Precept. As noted above, however, compassion is
also an important Buddhist moral value, particularly when linked to the concept of the Bodhisattva, a Buddhist saint distinguished by self-sacrificing compassion for others. Some sources reveal an increasing awareness of how a commitment to the alleviation of suffering can create a conflict with the principle of the inviolability of life. Opinion on these questions divides between conservative and liberal positions, although the great majority of traditional Buddhists would see euthanasia as prohibited by the First Precept.
Despite opposition to euthanasia, however, it does not follow that Buddhism teaches that there is a moral obligation to preserve life at all costs. Recognizing the inevitability of death is a central element in Buddhist teachings. Death cannot be postponed forever, and Buddhists are encouraged to be mindful and prepared for the evil hour when it comes. To seek to prolong life beyond its natural span by recourse to ever more elaborate technology when no cure or recovery is in sight is a denial of the reality of human mortality and would be seen by Buddhism as arising from delusion (moha) and excessive attachment (tanha).
In terminal care, and in cases where a permanent vegetative state has been conclusively diagnosed, there is no need to go to extreme lengths to provide treatment where there is little or no prospect of recovery. There would, therefore, be no requirement to treat subsequent complications, for example pneumonia or other infections, by administering antibiotics. While it might be foreseen that an untreated infection would lead to the patient’s death, it would also be recognized that any course of treatment that is contemplated must be assessed against the background of the prognosis for overall recovery. Rather than embarking on a series of piecemeal treatments, none of which would produce a net improvement in the patient’s overall condition, it would often be appropriate to reach the conclusion that the patient was beyond medical help and allow events to take their course. In such cases it is justifiable to refuse or withdraw treatment that is either futile or too burdensome in the light of the overall prognosis for recovery.

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Table 48.1. Essential considerations of ethical approaches to communication and caregiving involving Buddhist patients
In view of Buddhism’s diversity, caution must be exercised when generalizing about what Buddhists believe There is a danger of superimposing inappropriate Western assumptions about religious belief on Buddhism
In Buddhism there is no religious law imposing special dietary requirements or restrictions on medical treatment Hospitals should have a strategy in place for dealing with patients from non-Western religious backgrounds
Buddhist monks and nuns should prepare advance directives or make provision for a surrogate in the event they become incapacitated, especially when resident abroad
Buddhist monks and nuns do not generally visit hospitals or work as chaplains Key Buddhist values are non-harming (ahimsa) and compassion (karuna)
There is a strong presumption against the taking of life enshrined in the First Precept, which generates conservative positions on issues such as abortion and euthanasia
As yet little work has been done in the field of Buddhist bioethics however, it appears to resemble Western systems of virtue ethics in key respects
For further discussion of end of life issues see Keown (2001b, 2005b). Table 48.1 details the essential considerations discussed in this chapter.
The cases
Mrs. T attended one of the many illegal abortion clinics in Thailand and had a termination at 14 weeks. In Thailand, abortion is used as a method of birth control by married women because of the lack of family planning clinics and contraceptive advice, particularly in rural areas. As is usual, Mrs. T did not discuss her plans with any member of the Buddhist clergy, since intimate family matters are not seen as appropriate matters of concern for celibate monks who have renounced worldly concerns. In having the abortion, Mrs. T felt she had done wrong and would incur bad karma as a result. However, she believed she had no alternative, and hoped to mitigate any negative karmic effects by performing good works and making offerings at the local temple.
Since he did not fit the mould of the standard American patient, there was confusion as to who had authority to make treatment decisions on behalf of Venerable C. Staff had little understanding
of Buddhism, and so the hospital ethics committee sought a court-appointed guardian to manage the case. In the end, the surgery went ahead. This was not because Buddhist teachings required it, and a decision not to operate would equally have been in accordance with Buddhist ethics. Deciding against intervention, even with the expectation that this would shorten the patient’s life, would not have been regarded as an instance of passive euthanasia since at no time was the death of the patient the outcome sought.
REFERENCES
Cooper, D. E. and James, S. P. (2005). Buddhism, Virtue and Environment. Aldershot: Ashgate.
Florida, R. (1991). Buddhist approaches to abortion. Asian Philos 1: 39–50.
Hardacre, H. (1997). Marketing the Menacing Fetus in Japan. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press.
Harvey, P. (2000). An Introduction to Buddhist Ethics: Foundations, Values and Issues. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press.
Hood, R. (2005). Buddhism and the practice of bioethics in the United States. In Buddhist Studies from India to America. Essays in Honor of Charles S. Prebish, ed. D. Keown. London: Routledge Curzon, pp. 32–44.

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Hughes, J. J. (1999). Buddhism and abortion: a western approach. In Buddhism and Abortion, ed. D. Keown. London: Macmillan, pp. 183–98.
Keown, D. (2001a). The Nature of Buddhist Ethics. Basingstoke, UK: Palgrave.
Keown, D. (2001b). Buddhism and Bioethics. London: Palgrave.
Keown, D. (2005a). Buddhist Ethics: A Very Short Introduction. Oxford, Oxford University Press.
Keown, D. (2005b). End of Life: the Buddhist View. Lancet 366: 952–5.
LaFleur, W. A. (1992). Liquid Life: Abortion and Buddhism in Japan. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.
LaFleur, W. A. (2001). From agape to organs: religious difference between Japan and America in judging the ethics of the transplant. In Ethics in the World Religions, ed. J. Runzo and N. M. Martin. Oxford: Oneworld, pp. 271–90.
Myogak, S. (1985). Aga ya, yongs’o haedao. [My Dear Baby, Please Forgive Me.] Seoul: Changusa.
Potts, M., Byre, P. A., and Nilges, R. G. (2000). Beyond Brain Death: The Case Against Brain Based Criteria for Human Death. Dordrecht: Kluwer Academic.
Ratanakul, P. (1986). Bioethics, An Introduction to the Ethics of Medicine and Life Sciences. Bangkok: Mahidol University.
Tedesco, F. (1999). Abortion in Korea. In Buddhism and Abortion, ed. D. Keown. London: Macmillan, pp. 121–55.
Tsomo, K. L. (2006). Into the Jaws of Yama, Lord of Death. Buddhism, Bioethics and Death. Albany, NY: SUNY Press.
Whitehill, J. (2000). Buddhism and the virtues. In Contemporary Buddhist Ethics, ed. D. Keown. Richmond, UK: Curzon Press, pp. 17–36.
Youngner, S. J., Arnold, R. M., and Schapiro, M. P. H. (1999).
The Definition of Death. Contemporary Controversies. Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins Press.

49
Chinese bioethics
Kerry W. Bowman and Edwin C. Hui
Mr. D is a 75-year-old Chinese Canadian who has been admitted to the intensive care unit because of respiratory failure. He has a long history of respiratory problems. Mechanical ventilation is started. Mr. D is oriented to time, person, and place. He spends much of his time reading and enjoys his family’s visits. Attempts to wean him from the ventilator have failed; consequently, he is facing a situation of permanent dependence on the breathing machine. It is unclear as to what Mr. D’s wishes related to this would be. The physician in charge wishes to inform Mr. D that he is unable to get him to a point where he can be taken off the ventilator and wants to introduce the option of gradually weaning him off the ventilator and keeping him comfortable so that nature may take its course and he may die in peace. The patient’s eldest son is described to the healthcare team as ‘‘the decision maker.’’ He approaches the physician and asks emphatically that his father not be told that he is permanently dependent on the ventilator as it would take away his hope, terrify him and, in turn, make him sicker. The son feels that telling his father would be cruel and is, therefore, unjustifiable.
What is Chinese bioethics?
Bioethics as a discipline does not formally exist within traditional Chinese culture. For many Chinese who have grown up or spent much of their lives in a culture characterized by strong communal values and an emphasis on social harmony, the process of explicit bioethical deliberation will be
unfamiliar. Much of conventional Western bioethical analysis is based on such dichotomies as autonomy versus paternalism and duties versus rights. ‘‘Either/or’’ distinctions contrast sharply with the conception of moral order in Chinese culture, which treats apparent opposites, such as the individual and the group, as complementary rather than mutually exclusive. Thus the ‘‘person,’’ ‘‘family,’’ ‘‘clan,’’ and ‘‘community’’ exist in a dynamic state of reciprocal definition (Fox and Swazey, 1984).
The concept of autonomy best highlights the contrast between Western and Chinese cultures. In the West, the principle of autonomy implies that every person has the right to self-determination. In the context of healthcare, this means that the patient is the best person to make healthcare decisions. Within Chinese culture, however, the person is viewed as a ‘‘relational self’’ – a self for whom social relationships, rather than rationality and individualism, provide the basis for moral judgement. From this perspective, an insistence on self-determination erodes the value placed on personal interconnectedness and the social and moral meaning of such relationships.
In traditional Chinese society, the influences of which still endure, the family is based on an extended or clan structure and plays a central role in an individual’s life. The family is a semiautonomous unit consisting of an elaborate hierarchy of kin and is held responsible for the
An earlier version of this chapter has appeared: Bowman, K. W. and Hui, E. C. (2000). Chinese bioethics. Canadian Medical Association Journal 163: 1481–5.
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398K. W. Bowman and E. C. Hui
care of its aged, sick, unemployed, and disabled members. The traditional family structure is patriarchal, with communication and authority flowing downward (Unschuld, 1985). All major decisions made by the family are thus informed by these hierarchical structures. This pattern of familial collectivity has deep roots. In the second century BC, a Confucianist social order that was focused on the quality of selflessness began to evolve. This notion emphasized allegiance – first to the family, second to the clan, and finally to the community. In Chinese culture, the family functions as collective decision maker and also as a powerful conduit for moral, religious, and social norms (Kleinman et al., 1978; Siven, 1987). The family’s role in self-determination is, therefore, integral to any notion of Chinese bioethics.
Conceptions of illness
All cultures generate explanatory models that attempt, either explicitly or implicitly, to account for the phenomenon of illness and its place in human existence. Such models undertake to define what a disease is, how it occurs, why it exists, what measures can prevent or control it, and why some people and not others are affected. Identifying and reconciling differences between cultural models is crucial to the successful treatment of illness (Kleinman, 1980, p. 35). In Western medicine, the primary explanatory model of illness focuses on abnormalities in the structure and function of bodily organs and systems. Traditional Chinese medicine, by comparison, views the body, soul, and spirit as an integrated whole. Furthermore, because human beings are considered products of nature, humankind and the natural environment are seen to be inseparably and interdependently related; protecting the integrity of the human–nature dyad is consequently fundamental to health.
The Chinese understanding of nature and the cosmos is expressed in three important theoretical concepts: ch’i (material or vital force), yin and yang (complementary, interdependent opposites), and wu-hsing (the five elements).
Ch’i. Traditional Chinese medicine identifies 12 main channels in the human body through which the ch’i moves. Health implies that the ch’i is flowing normally between the organs, which is detected by the pulse. Accordingly, one of the main causes of disease is an obstruction of ch’i in the body. For example, the symptoms of a stroke may be attributed to the obstruction of ch’i at a point of vital energy flow in the body.
Yin and yang. This is a dialectical concept that attempts to explain phenomena that appear to be simultaneously dependent on and in opposition to each other. All bodily functions are the result of the harmony of yin and yang; a mild imbalance implies a diseased state, and a total disruption of the harmony leads to death. Many foods and food groups are divided into yin–yang categories. For example, if an illness is believed to be caused by too much yang, one way to compensate would be to eat foods that are considered yin.
Wu-hsing. The five elements are fundamental categories of matter. Because the human body is part of nature, the five elements are distributed to the five most important organs in the body, which determine the functions of all the other parts of the body, including emotions. Thus, the liver is associated with wood, the heart with fire, the spleen with earth, the lungs with metal, and the kidneys with water. Through this system, traditional Chinese medicine explains not only the various interactions between the body organs but also the influence of environmental factors (e.g., seasons and weather) on the human body and emotions (Veith, 1967, p. 23).
From the perspective of traditional Chinese medicine, a person enjoys perfect health when she or he has a strong and unobstructed flow of ch’i, is under the influence of well-balanced yin–yang forces, and is in harmony with the five elements. The focus is thus primarily on maintaining and promoting the flow of ch’i (building up body resistance) and only secondarily on pathogenic factors. Thus,

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traditional Chinese medicine emphasizes preventive medicine and health maintenance; therapeutic intervention to dispel pathogenic factors is reserved for acute conditions. Even for acute conditions, health maintenance procedures (measures to strengthen resistance) are usually implemented simultaneously with therapeutic interventions.
Another significant consideration in assessing Chinese patients’ attitudes toward health and illness is the degree to which they have acquired Western beliefs through acculturation or the recent effort in Mainland China to combine both Chinese and Western medicine.
Why is Chinese bioethics important?
General issues
The roots of both traditional and modern Chinese culture and philosophy are simultaneously diverse and tightly intertwined. This legacy has produced a people, a culture, and a moral perspective that are neither homogeneous nor in any sense monolithic. Furthermore, for Chinese patients, the process of acculturating to Western life adds yet another layer of complexity. Attitudes toward bioethical questions are, therefore, likely to be variable, complex, and difficult to predict.
Demographics
Since the 1980s, for example, at least a million ethnic Chinese from the Far East have settled in North America. In the 1980s, Cantonese-speaking Chinese, primarily from Hong Kong, made up the majority of the immigrants. In the last decade, Mandarinspeaking Chinese from Taiwan and Mainland China have rapidly grown in number. As people from this population enter the healthcare systems in the West, it is crucial that healthcare professionals understand their cultural perspectives. Although Chinese immigrants from these three geographical areas have much in common, subcultural differences between and among these groups add to the need for
healthcare providers to recognize the diversity within Chinese culture and to avoid broad-based assumptions.
How should I approach Chinese bioethics in practice?
The moral perspective of traditional China is influenced primarily by Confucianism, but also by Taoism and Buddhism (see Ch. 48). Some areas that highlight the differences between Western bioethics and Chinese tradition include beginning of life issues, death and dying, informed consent, and communication.
Beginning of life issues
The Chinese conception of the relational self has significant ethical implications for beginning of life issues. For example, one of the most important ways to show filial piety (a responsibility or sense of duty to one’s parents) is to provide offspring, especially male offspring. This explains why births in general – and male births in particular – are welcome events in Chinese society. Hence, the Chinese attitude toward abortion is generally negative, especially for male fetuses if the sex of the fetus is known. Life is always viewed as precious, and the taking of a life is something to be done only with careful consideration and the utmost caution.
Death and dying
In Confucian teaching, death is evaluated in terms of accomplishment in this world (i.e., the fulfillment of jen). Jen denotes the cultivation of positive human attributes such as humaneness, charity, and beneficence. A death is a ‘‘good’’ one – worthy and acceptable – only when most, if not all, of one’s moral duties in life have been fulfilled. Resistance to acknowledging a terminal illness or to forgoing futile medical treatments may reflect a patient’s perception of unfinished business and his or her

400K. W. Bowman and E. C. Hui
desire to extend life in order to complete unfinished tasks or fulfill moral duties.
But even when an elderly Chinese patient is resigned to a ‘‘good death,’’ his or her children may be reluctant to grant this wish for reasons related to filial piety. Because filial piety can be expressed only when a parent is alive, to extend an ailing parent’s life is to extend the opportunity to show filial piety. For this reason, children may not consent to a physician’s judgement that further intervention is futile and insist that heroic measures be taken for their dying parent.
Another significant reason to resist inevitable
death is the beliefs of religious Taoism, which teaches the postmortem survival of the whole bodily
person and |
an |
afterlife of |
torture and |
suffering |
in endless |
Hell. |
To avoid |
this, Taoism |
focuses |
on maintaining youth and attaining longevity and immortality. Patients with a strong Taoist religious background may, therefore, consider death an obstacle to be overcome and desperately cling to any means of extending life.
Philosophical Taoism, however, has a radically different perspective, which is reflected in the phrase, ‘‘Man comes into life and goes out to death.’’ For this reason, one should view death with equanimity. In the face of death, acceptance is the only appropriate response. Any artificial or heroic measures contradict the course of natural events and should not be undertaken.
Informed consent
The notion of respect for an individual’s right to self-determination is not prominent in traditional Chinese culture. In fact, the Confucian concept of relational personhood challenges the assumption that the patient should be given the diagnosis and prognosis and the opportunity to make his or her own medical decisions. Social and moral meaning rests in interdependence, which overrides self-determination. Consequently, many Chinese patients may give the family or community the right to receive and disclose information, to make decisions, and to coordinate patient care, even
when they themselves are competent. If not acknowledged, these differences in perspective can lead to a complete breakdown in communication.
Communication
It is important to remember that Western and Chinese cultures may hold sharply divergent views about autonomy and the nature and meaning of illness. The most effective way to address such cultural differences is through open and balanced communication. When healthcare workers are uncertain about how a Chinese patient or family perceives a situation, it is best simply to ask. Frequently, differences are easily negotiated. Many Chinese patients already hold blended cultural perspectives and views of health. The mere acknowledgement of such differences will usually lead to improved communication. Although the notion of Chinese bioethics does not exist in any traditional sense, healthcare workers should consider the essential qualities of ethical approaches to communication and care giving involving Chinese patients that are outlined in Table 49.1.
The case
In the Confucian social hierarchy, the elderly sick person can expect to be cared for by his or her family. The patient is relieved of a large share of personal responsibility, including decision making, even though he or she may be rational and competent. Furthermore, from a Confucian point of view, which is governed by the rule of filial piety and protection, a parent should not be given the news of a terminal illness; it is considered morally inexcusable to disclose any news that may cause further harm to one’s parent (Veith, 1967; Feldman et al., 1999; Pang Mei-che, 1999).
In the face of serious illness, Mr. D’s family, much like many people of non-Western cultures (Kaufert and O’Neil, 1990; Dalla-Vorgia et al., 1992; Caralis, 1993; Thomsen et al., 1993; Orona et al., 1994; Asai et al., 1995; Murphy et al., 1996; Ip et al.,

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Table 49.1. Essential qualities of ethical approaches to communication and caregiving involving Chinese patients
Qualities |
Characteristics |
|
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Assume diverse opinions |
There is no monolithic Chinese culture; when dealing with Chinese |
|
patients, a broad range of beliefs should be anticipated. |
|
Furthermore, culture is not static, particularly in the case of |
|
immigration. Many Chinese immigrants hold beliefs and attitudes |
|
that are both blended and in transition. When uncertain of beliefs |
|
and perspectives, avoid assumptions and ask the patient or family |
|
directly |
Acknowledge potential differences |
Chinese patients may not be comfortable with frank, direct styles of |
in emotional expression |
communication. Emotional containment does not mean |
|
indifference. Be cautious in assessing a person’s emotional reaction. |
|
Anticipate different views on informed consent: many of the values |
|
common to traditional Chinese culture differ from the concept of |
|
autonomy that underpins Western bioethics. The Chinese patient |
|
may not strongly distinguish his or her wishes from those of the |
|
family. For many Chinese patients, withholding a diagnosis or |
|
controlling negative information may be seen as a way of fostering |
|
and maintaining hope in a patient. Identifying and negotiating these |
|
differences is, therefore, crucial to effective healthcare |
Use interpreters |
Use an interpreter if there is any doubt about fluency in or |
|
understanding of English. It is always best to avoid using family |
|
members or close family friends as interpreters because they may |
|
not be comfortable with the direct nature of informed consent. |
|
Involve the family: Chinese patients may believe that consent is a |
|
family – rather than an individual patient – decision. Making |
|
decisions based solely on a patient’s wishes or perspectives on |
|
quality of life may be foreign to many Chinese patients. Moreover, |
|
‘‘immediate family’’ may include multiple generations. Allow for |
|
large or multiple-generation family conferences. Applying the |
|
notion of autonomy cross-culturally may, therefore, warrant |
|
accepting each person’s terms of reference for his or her definition |
|
of self. We respect patients’ and families’ autonomy by bringing |
|
their cultural values and beliefs into the decision-making process |
Anticipate differences in the |
Because of radically different cultural and historical roots, some |
understanding and meaning of illness |
Chinese patients may hold perspectives on the nature and meaning |
|
of illness that differ substantially from a Western biomedical view. |
|
Again, it is best to ask about and negotiate these differences when |
|
building a treatment plan |
|
|
1998), believe that focusing on the negative may be a way of creating negative outcomes. His family has made it clear that hope was central to their concern for their father. All societies seem to recognize ‘‘the need for hope,’’ yet each differs in
understanding the conditions for hope. In contemporary North American healthcare, the doctor is often perceived to be someone who works in partnership with the terminally ill patient to maintain the patient’s dignity, quality of life, personal

402K. W. Bowman and E. C. Hui
choice over treatments, and hope. In Western terms, therefore, hope appears to be upheld through autonomy and active participation in treatment choices and regimens.
However, Mr. D’s family believes that hope is best maintained through the family’s absorption of the impact of the illness and diagnosis, and through the family’s control of medical information transmitted to Mr. D. Their wishes reflect a belief in the shared responsibility of the illness with other family members, and an awareness of the potential physical or emotional harm that truth telling might bring.
By inquiring about Mr. D’s and his family’s perspective on this illness, the patient and family, in turn, felt both respected and understood, leading to improved communication and a negotiated treatment plan.
REFERENCES
Asai, A., Fukuhara, S., and Lo, B. (1995). Attitudes of Japanese and Japanese–American physicians towards life-sustaining treatment. Lancet 346: 356–9.
Caralis, P. V., Davis, B., Wright, K., and Marcial, E. (1993). The influence of ethnicity and race on attitudes toward advance directives, life-prolonging treatments, and euthanasia. J Clin Ethics 4: 155–65.
Dalla-Vorgia, P., Katsouyanni, K., Garanis, T. N., et al. (1992). Attitudes of a Mediterranean population to the truth-telling issue. J Med Ethics 18: 67–74.
Feldman, M. D., Zhang, J., and Cummings, S. R. (1999). Chinese and US internists adhere to different ethical standards. J Gen Intern Med 14: 469–73.
Fox, S. and Swazey, J. P. (1984). Medical morality is not bioethics: medical ethics in China and the United States. Perspect Biol Med 27: 336–60.
Ip, M., Gilligan, T., Koenig, B., and Raffin, T. A. (1998). Ethical decision-making in critical care in Hong Kong.
Crit Care Med 26: 447–51.
Kaufert, J. M. and O’Neil, J. D. (1990). Biomedical rituals and informed consent: native Canadians and the negotiation of clinical trust. In Social Science Perspectives on Medical Ethics, ed. G. Weisz. Philadelphia, PA: University of Pennsylvania Press, pp. 41–63.
Kleinman, A. (1980). Patient and Healers in the Context of Culture: An Exploration of the Borderland Between Anthropology, Medicine, and Psychiatry. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press.
Kleinman, A., Eisenberg, L., and Good, B. (1978). Clinical lessons from anthropologic and cross-cultural research.
Ann Intern Med 88: 251–8.
Murphy, S. T., Palmer, J. M., Azen, S., et al. (1996). Ethnicity and advance directives. J Law Med Ethics 24: 108–17.
Orona, C. J., Koenig, B. A., and Davis, A. J. (1994). Cultural aspects of nondisclosure. Camb Q Healthc Ethics 3: 338–46.
Pang Mei-che, S. (1999). Protective truthfulness: the Chinese way of safeguarding patients in informed treatment decisions. J Med Ethics 25: 247–53.
Siven, N. (1987). Traditional medicine. In Contemporary China. Ann Arbor, MI: Center for Chinese Studies, University of Michigan, pp. 94–112.
Thomsen, O. Ø., Wulff, H. R., Martin, A., and Singer, P. A. (1993). What do gastroenterologists in Europe tell cancer patients? Lancet 341: 473–6.
Unschuld, P. U. (1985). Medicine in China. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press.
Veith, I. (1967). The Yellow Emperor’s Classic of Internal Medicine. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press.

50
Hindu and Sikh bioethics
Harold Coward and Tejinder Sidhu
Mrs. E is a married 35-year-old Hindu woman expecting her fourth child. She has three daughters and on several occasions has expressed her desire to have a son. Because of her age, she is referred for amniocentesis to rule out genetic anomalies. A healthy female fetus is reported, whereupon Mrs. E requests a termination of pregnancy. The pregnancy is now at 20 weeks. Mr. and Mrs. E are referred for counseling.
Mr. and Mrs. F, an orthodox Sikh couple, are happily anticipating the birth of their first child. The pregnancy is uneventful until 32 weeks, when gestational hypertension is diagnosed. Over the next two weeks, Mrs. F’s condition continues to deteriorate despite bed rest, hospital care, and intensive medical management. Mr. and Mrs. F consent to cesarean section to save the lives of mother and child. At 34 weeks, a female infant is delivered by cesarean section under general anesthetic. The baby is grossly edematous, looks dysmorphic, and has an Apgar score of 1 at one minute. Her birth weight is 1000 g, and the placenta is small and calcified. Mrs. F is still under general anesthetic, and Mr. F is not in the operating room. The physicians need to decide on the degree of intervention. Fortunately, the infant responds to basic stimulation from toweling and drying under a prewarmed radiant heater and to resuscitation with oxygen by facemask. Her Apgar score is 6 at five minutes and 8 at ten minutes. The baby is transferred to the neonatal intensive care unit, and a buccal smear is sent for karyotyping to rule out chromosomal abnormality. Following the surgery, the physicians meet with Mr. F to discuss the baby’s condition. The neonatal specialist, considering the baby’s condition to be grave and irremediable, advises against intensive intervention.
What are Hindu and Sikh bioethics?
Hinduism is the most ancient religion of India, dating from about 2500 BC. Sikhism, which has influences from Hinduism, arose as a separate religion some 500 years ago. The majority of Sikhs live in the Punjab, whereas Hindus are found throughout India. The first wave of Sikh immigration into North America occurred between 1905 and 1915; however, the majority of Sikhs entered North America between 1960 and 1985. Hindus began immigrating into North America in the 1960s.
In the Hindu and Sikh traditions, there is no great distinction between religion and culture, and ethical decisions are grounded in both religious beliefs and cultural values. In contrast to the contemporary secular approach to bioethics, which is predominantly rights based, Hindu and Sikh bioethics is primarily duty based. Indeed, there is no word for rights in traditional Hindu and Sikh languages. (Although most Sikhs speak Punjabi, Hindus speak a variety of languages, including Hindi, Bengali, Marathi, Tamil, and Malayalam.) Traditional teachings deal with the duties of individuals and families to maintain a lifestyle conducive to physical and mental health. Although there are profound differences between the Hindu and Sikh religions and considerable diversity within them, these traditions share a culture and worldview that includes ideas of karma and rebirth, collective
An earlier version of this chapter has appeared: Coward, H. and Sidhu, T. (2000). Hinduism and Sikhism. Canadian Medical Association Journal 163: 1167–70.
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