This chapter is intended to give clinicians who intend to teach the history of medicine to residents a bit of context. So it is not just about current models for doing this kind of teaching but also about how the field of medical history has evolved. Even though the main focus is residents, we write about undergraduate instruction as well, for it is here that lessons have been learned and approaches sharpened. Where does this field of medical history come from? What is its usefulness in the larger context of medical humanities, and what does one actually teach?
The notion of teaching the history of medicine to specialist trainees is feasible only if specialties themselves exist. While teaching medical history to undergraduates is age old, teaching residents is rather new. (Readers interested in the history of medical education might consult the works of Kenneth M. Ludmerer, most recently Let Me Heal: The Opportunity to Preserve Excellence in American Medicine.1) As recently as the last quarter of the nineteenth century, the idea of specialist training was virtually unknown except in disciplines such as psychiatry that required specialized facilities. In the UK, for example, clinicians saw themselves as generalists and regarded specialism as overly narrow for the broadly educated gentleman or -woman.2 Joel D Howell wrote in 2016, apropos Ludmerer’s Let Me Heal, “Since around the turn of the twentieth century, the organization of medical care has increasingly relied on categorizing physicians as members of specific specialties.”3 So, while specialist trainees would be interested in the history of their specialty, there was not necessarily an official specialty whose history one could isolate.
The development of the specialties as an historical event in medicine is, in itself, an interesting development and dovetails with the explosion of medical developments that took place in the 20th century. In teaching residents, it is therefore important to convey a sense of the excitement of studying history, as well as of the possible clinical and professional benefits that a good knowledge of history might bring. This chapter explains some of the benefits, but we would be happy if residents and their teachers come away from this section of their medical humanities curriculum enthusiastic about past triumphs and tragedies of their field and resolved to do better. Also, some of these books are jolly good reads!
Theoretical Discussion of the Role of the History of Medicine in the Undergraduate and Postgraduate Medical Curriculum: Past Traditions
It would be overly grand to claim that there is a “theory” of the role that history might play in the postgraduate curriculum. Historians tend to be practical people. Yet over the years certain insights have formed about the usefulness of history in the training of postgraduate physicians.
One camp sees history as an anchor for civic values. Medical training was once full of talk about values and community leadership; here, historical images played a role. As Charles K. Clarke said in 1919, as a six-year curriculum was about to be introduced, “The changes made in the curriculum will enable students to acquire a broader culture. . . . Six years may seem a long time to remain at College, but those who have acquaintance with the history of medicine are fully convinced that it is not possible to graduate a cultured and practical physician in less time.”4 At some universities, it was once common for the undergraduate curriculum to include courses on French, anthropology, and history. Not that curriculum planners thought that a knowledge of French or anthropology would be useful in the practice of medicine but that the medical students, scarce out of high school, would better step into later roles as community leaders if they knew something other than anatomy and physiology. This was an era when physicians were seen as the backbone of a kind of community elite, and this kind of leadership role demanded a broader educational background.
This concept of civics training greatly weakened after the Second World War as physicians played less and less of a role as community leaders and medical schools began demanding that applicants acquire intellectual diversity during their previous undergraduate training in arts and science, rather than the medical faculty itself offering this kind of education. For some time, the stipulation of a broad undergraduate background virtually vanished from undergraduate medical admissions requirements, although this trend is now reversing.
As for postgraduate training in medicine, the focus has always been on acquiring the knowledge base necessary for specialist practice rather than on civics training. As humanities topics were eliminated from medical education programs, bioethics stepped in to take their place. Yet bioethics, drawing together as it does law and philosophy, is not the same thing. In any event, the purpose of medical training at any level is no longer seen as forming community leaders, and the entire philosophy of civics training was really limited to the first half of the 20th century.
To the extent that some medical schools encouraged humanistic training in their postgraduate programs, it was in the form of a year-long rotation at the great medical schools of the UK and the Continent: London, Paris, Berlin, and Vienna. Here, the medical graduates might acquire a second language; certainly there were benefits from exposure to the leading minds of the day, which were to be found in the European capitals and not in Bethesda, Maryland (where the National Institutes of Health would flourish after the Second World War). American and Canadian residents and postgraduate fellows returned from these journeys with a firmer understanding of the history of medicine and with a new cosmopolitanism. Clarence B. Farrar, for example, later professor of psychiatry in Toronto, prided himself on his knowledge of the German he had acquired during a year’s residency at Heidelberg with the histopathologist Franz Nissl and with Emil Kraepelin, the founder of modern psychiatric nosology.5 Other clinicians returned home with similar experiences. Whether this made their relations with their patients more humane is unclear.6
A second approach sees knowledge of medical history as an anchor of wisdom. This orientation commenced in the hands of such clinician-scholars as Heinrich Ludwig von Attenhofer in Vienna, who began lecturing on medical history in 1808.7
At the undergraduate level, “medical history” (Medizingeschichte) was once a required course, hated by the students and included on the exam. Here the underlying philosophy was medicine as a storied source of learning that had built upon the wisdom of the ages. It was not unusual, at one point, for medical schools to demand from their graduates a reading knowledge of Latin. And the heart of Medizingeschichte was often learning the Greek and Latin roots of medical terminology.
At the postgraduate level in Europe, the medical doctoral dissertation (called habitationes—obligatory at the time) was to review the previous literature on the subject going back to the Ancients. This is a far cry from the brief review of recent contributions expected today in scientific papers. And postgraduate students writing “habilitations,” a big book following the doctoral dissertation, which qualified one for teaching, were expected to have a comprehensive grasp of the previous history of the subject. Here, the view was that the past represented a vast storehouse of useful knowledge, not civics training or ethical preparation, and that learned scholarship must be, essentially, historical in nature.
This view has not been entirely abandoned in graduate training on the Continent, yet it has been starkly modified. Essential to the grasp of one’s subject became an understanding of its biochemistry, later of its molecular biology; what hoary figures who lived a hundred years ago might have thought about the issue in question remains today largely uninteresting. From the viewpoint of medicine as a science, one can scarcely quibble with this approach. From the viewpoint of medicine as a humanistic combination of the art and science of practice, this rather mechanistic approach to the past does not fit readily into the medical humanities concept.
The third approach is the history of medicine as an anchor of humanistic learning and practice. Within medical education there has been a general reaction to the notion of postgraduate training as mills producing practitioners who may be technically superb in their specialties but who, in human relations and moral values, seem to verge on obtuseness. Part of the concept of medical humanities means softening the science of medicine with something of the art of medicine, and it is from historical models that we learn that the art of medicine was once a living reality.
The art of medicine was once valued, not because practitioners believed that medicine was necessarily unscientific but because it added a psychological dimension to doctor-patient relations;8 a human relationship of this intensity could not possibly be sustained on the basis alone of an understanding of biochemistry or molecular biology. Patients, in this view of postgraduate medical education, are seen as partners in a relationship, and they have emotional needs. It is the duty of the competent practitioner to fulfill, to the extent possible, some of these needs and expectations. And it is the role of the history of medicine to offer past models of this two-way communication.
This tradition of medical education as a repository of humanistic learning goes back to the turn of the century. In 1910 Will Mayo, one of the founders of the Rochester clinic named after his family, said, in the words of historian W. Bruce Fye, “Doctors must think of each patient as a whole person despite progressive specialization.”9 In the 1930s a formal “patient as a person” movement evolved, associated with William R. Houston (1936)10 and George Canby Robinson (1939).11 Both Houston and Robinson offered sage, historically founded advice about psychological elements in the doctor-patient relationship, particularly in the treatment of symptoms without lesions, later referred to as somatization, or “psychosomatic illness.” These doctors may be seen as founding figures in medical humanities, as they had great respect for the psychological lessons that might be learned from the past. (Robinson, the more influential of the two, merited a long entry in the Dictionary of American Medical Biography.12)
Robinson urged greater engagement with “the social and emotional aspects of illness . . . [but] freed from emotional reactions in the doctor. Feelings such as pity need not be suppressed or disregarded, but they must become a motive rather than an emotion.” Here Robinson cited the mid-19th-century Scottish physician John Brown, who wrote the moving story in Rab and His Friends (1859) about what he, Brown, had learned studying medicine at Minto House Hospital. It was that emotions, such as loyalty, can interfere with care. “The tenets of science can be applied to investigation in this field, and in fact unless they are applied, not much of permanent value is likely to emerge.” Harkening back to the generalist physicians of the past, Robinson urged the creation of a new sort of “ ‘general physician’ who combines in part the attitudes and methods of the internist, the psychiatrist, the hygienist and the medical social worker.” Such a physician, Robinson explained, would “know his patients as total individuals and can treat and guide their health through struggles with social adversity and social incapacity, relieve their psychogenic symptoms, and give them adequate medical care for illness or injury that does not require hospitalization.”13 Robinson’s biographer Theodore Brown adds, “Creation of this new specialist, like teamwork between hospital-based internists and medical social workers, would thus patch up the existing system of medical care.”14 Here, the lesson of history is that medicine once knew well how to care for psychosomatic illness but then lost the thread.
Joining medical humanities has been challenging for recent proponents of medical history. “Infiltrating “historical content into medical-school curricula offers no guarantee of continued success.15 What is the problem here? Poorly articulated arguments, uninterest, or hostility among medical educators and health science students? Yes and no, recent scholarship has concluded: Despite their frustration with their marginal position in medical education, the striking continuity of historians’ arguments for the discipline—and their ability to engage at least some members of the health professions and general public—shows s stability “that is a real accomplishment in a field as obsessed with novelty as medicine.”16
Recent Developments in Europe
The rigorous systematizing of the classical tradition has not been entirely abandoned in European medical education. In some centers, the former classical model has been supplanted by departments or institutes dedicated to the medical and health humanities (such as those established in Switzerland at the Université de Genève17 and Berlin’s Charité university medical center18), which integrate the study of history with other disciplines including anthropology, bioethics, and literary or cultural studies.
In 1993 the General Medical Council of the UK, in a report Tomorrow’s Doctors, recommended that medical history be included in a new program of interdisciplinary studies.19 Following this recommendation, in 1996 Liverpool University introduced a compulsory history of medicine component into the medical curriculum, and in the UK medical history began to gain wide acceptance, often in connection with nearby units of the Wellcome Institute for the History of Medicine. In this spirit of medical humanities, one scholar noted, “The study of the history of medicine can remind students of the transient nature of much medical knowledge and of the importance of keeping up to date with developments.”20 In many centers, medical history and bioethics have been merged into a single program. Although this will be seen as a plus for medical humanities, it is not necessarily a ringing endorsement of the benefits as such of studying the past.
The Johns Hopkins Approach
Following the 1873 will of Baltimore merchant Johns Hopkins, a hospital named after the benefactor was opened in 1889, teaching only graduate students; in 1893 an undergraduate medical school followed. The Hopkins medical institutions quickly became the leading North American medical faculty and were firmly based on scientific learning and laboratory investigation.
In teaching medical history to residents, the model offered by Johns Hopkins has been exemplary, combining a native North American enthusiasm with the deep learning of the Continent. Here, several threads came together. Hopkins combined an emphasis on the basic sciences and laboratory investigation (imported from France and especially Germany) with close clinical instruction by full-time professors; furthermore, it entailed a deep respect for wide-ranging learning and interests in the humanities (especially history and literature); finally, it incorporated a humanistic approach to education and practice. Johns Hopkins insisted, for example, on a knowledge of French and German among its incoming medical students,21 and William Osler, who arrived at Johns Hopkins University Hospital in 1889 as physician-in-chief, personified the caring bedside manner—as well as a particular interest in the history of medicine. In the mid-1890s, he founded the Johns Hopkins Medical Historical Club.22
It was Henry Sigerist who implanted the tradition at Johns Hopkins of teaching medical history. Sigerist was born in Paris in 1891, trained in medicine at Zurich and Munich, and, as a pupil of the great Karl Sudhoff in Leipzig, he abandoned clinical medicine and became a professor of the history of medicine, first at Leipzig then, after 1932, at Johns Hopkins. Sigerist directed the Institute of the History of Medicine at Johns Hopkins, founded in 1929, and made it into an important seedbed of US medically trained medical historians.23
The Hopkins model of the 1890s differed sharply from the trade-school approach previously in effect at most North American medical schools. Before the “Flexner Report” of 1910, which insisted that basic science underlie medical training, American medical education grosso modo had been modeled on a kind of “apprenticeship” system where, after two years of classroom instruction, one basically learned by doing. One entered medicine directly after high-school graduation and had little scientific understanding of what was, essentially, a craft. No role for history here (also, postgraduate training was minimal to nonexistent). So the Hopkins model opened the door to a modern, science-based residency and created a role for the history of medicine in understanding one’s place in this new world. Thus, far from being antihistorical, scientific training in medicine was, essentially, “prohistorical.”
These efforts at Johns Hopkins bore fruit. By 1951, according to Wilhelm Moll, a survey of the American Association for the History of Medicine demonstrated that 37 of the 79 schools medical schools had regular history of medicine courses. There were five departments or full-time chairs of the history of medicine.24
From the History of Medicine to “Health Humanities”
The concept of “health humanities” was adumbrated in 1947 in the journal Isis by the great Dutch historian of science George Sarton who founded the journal. He wrote, “The new historians of science . . . will be the best coordinators of scientific education in all its forms, and what is even more important they will constitute the necessary links between our technical barbarians and the well-meaning humanists . . . humanizing the men of science and the engineers and reminding them always of the traditions without which our lives, however ‘efficient,’ remain ugly and meaningless.”25 As Sarton intended, “medical humanities” became the more inclusive term. The aim was that, to engage with other health professionals, medical historians should try to integrate their own offerings into wider curricula and training programs. There is, however, a danger that solid historical content may degenerate into pablum when asked to “integrate” into other disciplines. Teaching the historical “background” of salient bioethical questions is not the same as teaching history. As we have seen from the previous discussion, there are good reasons for offering the history of medicine as a free-standing subject and not as ancillary to some other program. In 1956 psychiatrist Ilza Veith described “The function and place of the history of medicine in medical education.” She considered the history of medicine “indispensable in a well-rounded medical curriculum” and anticipated her studies of “hysteria” (which would become a well-known later book) that showed how important it was to have historical perspective on a diagnosis of this nature.26
On Teaching the History of Medicine to Undergraduates and Residents Today
The history of medicine as a medical humanity thus has a pedigree. What is the case today? In 2000, Barron H Lerner, an internist and medical historian at Columbia University College of Physicians & Surgeons, suggested various ways of making the history of medicine relevant to medical students and trainees, such as emphasizing medicine as a “profoundly social enterprise,” evident in the history of forced sterilization, chronic fatigue syndrome, and Lyme disease. “Many institutions,” he added, “are also beginning to use the rubric of ‘medical humanities’ to formally explore the patient’s experience of illness. Medical history should be integral to any such curriculum.”27 In a major review article published in 2015 (“Making the Case for History in Medical Education”), four leaders in the field argued vigorously for the inclusion of history in North American medical curricula.28 In a January 2017 feature by the New York University Medical Humanities website (“Why History of Medicine?”), Lerner continued to emphasize the importance of history as “a key subject within the medical humanities” with many valuable lessons for “modern health professionals.” “History reminds us,” he said, “that medicine has been—and always will be—a social process. That is, even as we learn more about the molecular and genetic basis of disease, and use increasingly sophisticated statistical methods to evaluate our interventions, this knowledge does not provide ‘objective’ truths. Rather, those who generate such scientific information do so within a complicated cultural and political setting.”29
Teaching medical history to undergraduates and postgraduates thus emerges as a new reality. In 2012, a survey of anesthesia departments in the United States established that 54% of the programs that responded to a questionnaire reported that they “had at least one faculty member with an interest in history of anesthesia, and 45 percent of programs included lectures related to history of anesthesia in their didactic curriculum.”30
As for the teaching format, a variety of approaches to undergraduate education have been reported over the past three decades, many of them recommending more engaging formats than the traditional lecture. During the late 1980s, two professors at Michigan State University designed and successfully implemented a case study (“focal-problem”) course based on John Snow’s investigation of the 1854 cholera outbreak in London.31 George Rosen at Columbia University, who was probably the dean of American medical historians, in 1956 dilated upon the teaching of the subject to undergraduates, especially from the viewpoint of social history.32 One should not overlook a more recent discussion of teaching medical history to undergraduates using case studies.33
Librarians at Northwestern University in 2012 provided a useful model for inserting medical history into the curriculum by introducing students to rare books and special collections.34 (The online appendix, “Guidelines for Reviewing Primary Literature,” provides some highly practical and academically sound tips for health professions trainees and others venturing into this specialized field.35)
Also, in 2012 a team from Louisiana State’s Health Sciences Library described a database-searching course for third-year medical students that incorporates insights into medical history using the Edwin Smith Surgical Papyrus, a digitized ancient text.36 As for anesthesia, in 2014, two members of the Department of Anesthesiology at the University of Massachusetts Medical School at Worcester described use of novels, movies, and site visits as “alternative methods” in teaching the history of the discipline.37 In 2016 two scholars at the University of Minnesota described their work in teaching medical history through the use of primary sources,38 including oral histories,39 material culture, and special collections.40
Resources integrating medical history with medical humanities exist as well. One of the four main sections of Thomas Cole et al.’s Medical Humanities: An Introduction covers “history and medicine” and includes, among other topics, “The Doctor-Patient Relationship,” “Educating Doctors,” and “The Health of Populations.”41 It was the late Roy Porter who penned the magisterial The Greatest Benefit to Mankind: A Medical History of Humanity from Antiquity to the Present.42 Jacalyn Duffin has offered an authoritative account in History of Medicine: A Scandalously Short Introduction.43 And Edward Shorter’s Doctors and Their Patients: A Social History44, while not a comprehensive history of medicine, is nonetheless a useful guide to the vicissitudes of the doctor-patient relationship.
It is important that residents be exposed to the best that medical history has to offer, and, in one sense, herein lies its interdisciplinarity: Medical history is more than a retirement pastime for old doctors but is rather a vibrant interdisciplinary field of active scholarship. As we have seen, the history of medicine began life in Europe and reached a kind of apex with the works of Karl Sudhoff and Henry Sigerist. What has propelled it into the 21st century, however, is the arrival in the 1960s of PhD social historians who are, generally speaking, not medically trained but who see medical history as an entry portal to larger societal questions such as the history of gender, the history of concepts such as intimacy, and the history of “the body,” giving concreteness to this otherwise rather ephemeral notion.
To illustrate: In 2014, Shauna Devine wrote a model history of the role of the Civil War in the rise of modern surgery.45 The history of eugenics and genetics has been fertile ground, and Pauline M.H. Mazumdar’s classic Eugenics, Human Genetics and Human Failings (1992) has spawned a series of studies.46 Thomas Laqueur at the University of California has pioneered the “history of the body” concept with works on the cultural construction of sex and on the history of masturbation.47 We learn from this scholarship that even the most intimate events in the body’s long temporal arc are somehow socially constructed. (While we highlight PhD scholarship, it cannot be denied that some knowledge of medicine is important even for PhDs: Mazumdar and Duffin are also MDs, Edward Shorter took the two-year basic medical science program at a major medical school, and Thomas Laqueur participated in a clinical rotation in gastroenterology.)
The history of psychiatry has not fallen short, given the obvious appeal to social historians of psychiatry. Ben Shephard, who wrote the standard work on “shell shock,” actually started out as a journalist.48 Paul Lerner broke the mold on “hysteria” as a female concept by writing Hysterical Men: War, Psychiatry, and the Politics of Trauma in Germany.49 And Hannah S Decker brought a historian’s skills to the history of psychiatry’s diagnostic guide, the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, especially the third edition in 1980, known as DSM-III.50 Key works in the history of psychiatry might include Edward Shorter, A History of Psychiatry.51 In the library of every serious scholar of psychiatric history should be Richard Hunter and Ida Macalpine’s magnificent Three Hundred Years of Psychiatry,52 an edited compilation of essential primary texts. Readers will also find helpful Hugh Freeman’s edited volume, A Century of Psychiatry.53
In teaching residents, these titles serve as valuable illustrations of the excitement and scholarly excellence in the field of medical history. This is but a small sample of a huge range of high-quality scholarship from the pens of social historians, few of whom have medical training. The history of medicine is thus genuinely interdisciplinary, drawing alike from medicine and history; conveying this to residents is an important teaching objective, if only because medicine itself is “interdisciplinary,” in a sense, and the clinical gaze must be widened to include the patient’s social background.
A sample curriculum to accompany this chapter can be found online at http://cahh.ca/resources/ouplesson-plans/.
1. Ludmerer K. Let Me Heal: The Opportunity to Preserve Excellence in American Medicine. New York: Oxford University Press, 2015. See also Ludmerer, Learning to Heal: The Development of Medical Education. New York: Basic Books, 1985; and Ludmerer, Time to Heal: American Medical Education from the Turn of the Century to the Era of Managed Care. New York: Oxford University, Press, 2005.
2. See Stevens R, Medical practice, in Walton J, et al., eds., The Oxford Companion to Medicine. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1986, I, 755–769. On the lack of differentiation in British medical practice around 1900 see James Crichton-Browne’s various memoirs, including The Doctor’s After Thoughts. London: Benn, 1932.
3. Howell JD. A history of medical residency. Rev Am His. 2016; 44: 126–131.
4. Shorter E. Partnership for Excellence: Medicine at the University of Toronto and Academic Hospitals. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2013, 651–652.
5. See Shorter ECB. Farrar: A life, in Shorter ECB, ed., TPH: History and Memories of the Toronto Psychiatric Hospital, 1925–1966, Toronto: Wall & Emerson, 1996, 59–96.
6. See on this Bonner TN. American Doctors and German Universities. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1963.
7. Lesky E. Die Wiener Medizinische Schule im 19. Jahrhundert. Graz: Böhlau, 1965, 618.
8. Shorter E. Doctors and Their Patients: A Social History, new ed. New Brunswick, NJ: Transaction, 1993.
9. Fye WB. The origins and evolution of the Mayo Clinic from 1864 to 1939: A Minnesota family practice becomes an international “medical mecca.” Bull Hist Med. 2010. 84: 323–357, 336.
10. Houston WR. The Art of Treatment. New York: Macmillan, 1936.
11. Robinson GC. The Patient as a Person. New York: Commonwealth Fund, 1939.
12. Kaufman M, et al., eds. Dictionary of American Medical Biography. Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1984, II, 643–644.
13. Robinson, Patient as a Person, 400, 410.
14. Brown TM. George Canby Robinson and “The Patient as a Person,” in Lawrence C, Weisz G, eds., Greater Than the Parts: Holism in Biomedicine, 1920–1950. New York: Oxford University Press, 1998, 135–160, 151; Robinson quotes from Brown.
15. Duffin, J. Infiltrating the curriculum: An integrative approach to history for medical students, J Med Humanit. 1995; 16 (3): 155–174. In a subsequent issue she teams up with a bioethicist to teach an interprofessional class. Weisberg M, Duffin J. Evoking the moral imagination: Using stories to teach ethics and professionalism to nursing, medical, and law students. J Med Humanit. 1995; 16 (4): 247–263. Fuller J, Olszewski [Cocks] MM. Medical history in Canadian undergraduate medical education, 1939–2012. Can Bull Hist Med. 2013; 30 (2): 199–209.
16. Jones DS, Greene JA, Duffin J, Warner JH. Making the case for history in medical education. J Hist Med Allied Sci. 2015; 70(4): 623–652.
17. Louis-Courvoisier M, Wenger A. How to make the most of history and literature in the teaching of medical humanities: The experience of the University of Geneva. Med Humanit. 2005; 31: 51–54.
18. Kiessling C, Mueller T, Becker-Witt C, Bergenau J, Prinz V, Schleiermacher S. A medical humanities special study module on principles of medical theory and practice at the Charité, Humboldt University, Berlin, Germany. Acad Med. 2003; 78(10): 1031–1035.
19. General Medical Council. Tomorrow’s Doctors. London: Author, 1993.
21. Flexner A. Medical Education in the United States. New York: Carnegie Foundation, 1910, 234.
22. Bliss M. William Osler: A Life in Medicine. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1999, 249.
23. See Brown TM, Foo E. Sigerist HE. Medical historian and social visionary. Am J Public Health. 2003; 93(1): 80.
24. Moll W. A brief survey of the teaching of the history of medicine in the United States. Bull Hist Med. 1962; 50: 207–213.
25. Sarton G. Preface to Volume 37: Qualifications of teachers of the history of science. Isis 1947. 37: 5–6.
26. Veith I. The function and place of the history of medicine in medical education, J Med Educ. 1956; 31(5): 303–309. Veith, Hysteria: The History of a Disease. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1965.
27. Lerner BH. From laennec to lobotomy: Teaching medical history at academic medical centers. Am J Med Sci. 2000; 319: 279–284.
28. Jones DS, Greene JA, Duffin J, Warner JH. Making the case for history in medical education. J Hist Med Allied Sci. 2015; 70(4): 623–652.
30. Desai MS, et al. The teaching of anesthesia history in US residency programs: Results of a nationwide survey. J Clin Anesthesia. 2012; 24: 101–103.
31. Brody H, Vinten-Johansen P. Teaching the history of medicine by case study and small group discussion. J Med Humanit. 1991; 12(1): 19–24.
32. Rosen G. An orientation course in the history of medicine. J Med Educ. 1956; 31, 680–683.
33. Brody H, Vinten-Johansen P. Teaching the history of medicine by case study and small group discussion. J Med Humanit. 1991; 12(1): 19–24.
34. Shedlock J, Sims RH, Kubilius RK. Promoting and teaching the history of medicine in a medical school curriculum. J Med Libr Assoc. 2012; 100(2):138–141.
35. Shedlock J, Sims RH, Kubilius RK. Guidelines for reviewing primary literature. J Med Libr Assoc. http://dx.doi.org/10.3163/1536-5050.100.2.014.%20222112.
36. Timm DF, Jones D, Woodson D, Cyrus JW. Combining history of medicine and library instruction: An innovative approach to teaching database searching to medical students. Med Ref Serv Q. 2012; 31(3): 258–266.
37. Desai MS. Desai SP. Alternate methods of teaching history of anesthesia. Anesth Analg. 2014; 118: 438–447.
38. Tobell DA. Teaching medical history with primary sources. Bull Hist Med. 2016; 90(1): 124–127.
39. Tobell DA. Teaching with oral histories. Bull Hist Med. 2016; 90(1): 128–135.
40. Hendrickson L. Teaching with artifacts and special collections. Bull Hist Med. 2016; 90(1): 136–140.
41. Cole T, et al. Medical Humanities: An Introduction New York: Cambridge University Press, 2015.
42. Porter R. The Greatest Benefit to Mankind: A Medical History of Humanity from Antiquity to the Present. London: HarperCollins, 1997.
43. Duffin J. History of Medicine: A Scandalously Short Introduction, 2nd ed. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2010.
44. Shorter E. Doctors and Their Patients: A Social History, new ed. New Brunswick, NJ: Transaction, 1993.
45. Devine S. Learning from the Wounded: The Civil War and the Rise of American Medical Science. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2014.
46. Mazumdar PMH. Eugenics, Human Genetics and Human Failings: The Eugenics Society, Its Sources and its Critics in Britain. London: Routledge, 1992.
47. Laqueur T. Making Sex: Body and Gender from the Greeks to Freud. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1990; Laqueur, Solitary Sex: A Cultural History of Masturbation. New York: Zone Books, 2003.
48. Shephard B. A War of Nerves: Soldiers and Psychiatrists in the Twentieth Century. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2001.
49. Lerner P. Hysterical Men: War, Psychiatry, and the Politics of Trauma in Germany, 1890–1930. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2003.
50. Decker HS. The Making of DSM-III: A Diagnostic Manual’s Conquest of American Psychiatry. New York: Oxford University Press, 2013.
51. Shorter E. A History of Psychiatry. New York: Wiley, 1997.
52. Hunter R, Macalpine I. Three Hundred Years of Psychiatry. London: Oxford University Press, 1963.
53. Freeman H, ed. A Century of Psychiatry, 2 vols. London: Mosby-Wolfe, 1999.