Amongst all of the genres that I read, nonfiction about medical history is one of my top favorites. I especially love audiobooks that walk you through the weird, gross, and somewhat backwards world of pre-FDA medicine, so I was very pumped to get an advance copy of the audiobook for Sam Kean’s newest release, The Icepick Surgeon, expertly narrated by Ben Sullivan (out on July 13, 2021).
Obviously there are a myriad of ethical issues that arise with any discussion of historical medical research, and while this book talks about them in gruesome detail, it likely will not be one that I include in recommendations (unless they are specifically asking for medical ethics for everyday folks). While I’m not a huge fan of true crime stories, I had a lot of issues with this book that didn’t stem from the genre’s influence on the structure and writing. Truthfully, the stylistic influence of the true crime genre really contributed to the elements of this book that I liked (a big surprise to me), but it was the language that Kean used to talk about the implications and human lives impacted that left me the most uncomfortable.
TW: This book contains graphic descriptions of physical and psychological torture, ableist language, and outdated and racist terms, along with the other crimes listed in the book’s subtitle
⚡️ I was provided with an e-ARC by the publishers via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
This post also includes an affiliate link to purchase this book.
The Icepick Surgeon: Murder, Fraud, Sabotage, Piracy, and Other Dastardly Deeds Perpetrated in the Name of Science
by Sam Kean
🌟: 3 / 5
📚: An exploration of the most despicable discoveries in medical research, told through the doctors and scientists whose ambitions trumped the morals, ethics, and safety of the people that they were hoping to help.
💭: At its heart, the message that this book is trying to get across is that the ethics and human cost of research is something that we need to constantly need to evolve, scrutinize, and be conscious of. Kean uses true crime-style case studies to discuss the crimes that scientists have committed in the name of advancing our understanding of medicine. It’s extremely engaging storytelling and is written and narrated well, but there are many instances where readers are pulled out of the narrative for Kean to advertise his podcast (it’s on Spotify and Apple Podcasts! This chapter was episode 22!).
All of this being said, I had a lot of issues with the language chosen to represent these ideas. For a book that emphasizes learning from the downfalls of the past when it comes to creating a more humane and ethical future in medicine and medical research, the way that it’s spoken about is not as thoughtful when it comes to the word choices that Kean uses. At first I gave him the benefit of the doubt, maybe he was quoting a contemporary source and the audiobook made it sound like it wasn’t a quote. However, towards the end of the book, there were some distinctions made about word choices that one sources uses no longer being in use and all uses of them were paraphrased from a published case study on that topic, and that distinction on one word’s use made me genuinely angry about the previous word choices.
This paragraph refers to specific and potentially triggering words that the author used
I made notes on the word choices that stood out to me, but there were many more that I just didn’t have a chance to write down. Many of the word choices were ableist and honestly just lazily used in place of other adjectives— “schizoid” used in place of “contrasting,” “OCD” in place of “punctual” or “reliable—” words that took me less than 10 seconds to find replacements for on thesaurus.com. Other words were demeaning, such as referring sex workers who were put into dangerous studies as “hookers,” which further degrades the position that they were put into against their will. There was also the repeated use of the outdated term “Indian” to refer to indiginous people from North and South America and Mestizo people in Guatemala (it was also used properly to speak to people from India, but was used within the same chapter as the first use, so it caused a lot of confusion).
As with many books about medical history, I kept having to stop reading and walk away because the content of this book is so awful. Although it was written well for the content and does a good job of broaching the topic of why we need ethics in medicine to constantly be scrutinized, it was often just a lot to take in (some chapters more than others for sure). Unfortunately, the ethical issues that this book raises aren’t all completely over with. The penultimate case study focuses on the traumatic treatment of intersex, transgender, and queer youth who endure surgeries and therapies, often without consent. It’s hard to read and heartbreaking to consider, but occasionally felt like these issues were a part of the past like the other stories featured in this book. It’s very crucial to remember that ethical issues in medicine still exist and will continue to arise as science and our understanding of medicine evolves, and I think that the conclusion and afterword touch on this well; however, the fact that these aren’t addressed until after so many hard-to-read anecdotes troubles me for a couple of reasons. I wish that these considerations were more top-of-mind while reading and introduced as readers go into this book, and I worry that many readers will stop reading this book ahead of getting to these considerations, purely because of the nature of this book.