The U.S. National Library of Medicine holds two collections by Adolf Nichtenhauser (1903–53) that have become important sources for historians of medical and health films: an unpublished book-manuscript in which he surveys the history of medical and health films to around 1950, primarily in Europe and North America; and the valuable collection of documents he amassed partly during his research for this book-manuscript. Such is the richness of these collections that it is difficult to imagine a history of medical and health film that is not in some way indebted to Nichtenhauser. Indeed, his book-manuscript has become a standard citation in the historiography of medicine, health and film. Yet very little is known about Nichtenhauser himself, other than that he was a European immigrant to the United States who wrote this key history and died before its completion. This article seeks to do three things: to provide the first English-language biography of Nichtenhauser from his early life in Austria to his career in the United States; to use this biography to explain how he came to write this book-manuscript; and to explore the relationship between his historiography and efforts in the 1940s and 1950s to identify and solve problems with application of film to medicine and health.

The Spanish influenza pandemic of 1918 caused well over fifty million deaths. The epicentre undoubtedly was China, where gene mixing of different virus strains occurred amongst aquatic, migrant birds. But where and when did the virus first infect (or spill over to) a human being? We take, as our starting point, a paper demonstrating that an infection causing the same symptoms as the influenza virus was widespread in New York during the winter of 1917–1918. The authors of that paper went on to suggest that the virus had probably reached North America from Europe, in the context of troop movement during World War I. Our own researches have focussed on this point. We show that outbreaks of serious respiratory disease, local in nature but causing unusual patterns of mortality, were indeed reported by scientists and doctors in army hospitals in England and in France, well before the first wave of the pandemic had arrived. We use the records of these hospitals, now held in the National Archives, to trace the progress of this disease amongst the individuals who fell ill. We examine contemporary reactions to this minor epidemic – an epidemic, we suggest, which acted as a herald wave of the pandemic yet to come. The latter part of our paper addresses the second question, as to how troop movement across the North Atlantic, once the United States had entered into war, may well have enabled the virus to spread from Europe to North America.

Torri’r Llech (TLl) (Welsh for ‘breaking the rickets’) was a bloodletting practice which remained popular in Wales from at least the mid-nineteenth up to the mid-twentieth centuries. The practice involved cutting the ear (pinna) to induce bleeding. Indications were numerous and dynamic. Vernacular medical practices, including bloodletting, have enjoyed a long history in Wales and were influenced by a multitude of conceptual paradigms over the centuries. By drawing on original oral histories, newspaper accounts, as well as existing secondary source material, this article aims to situate TLl within the wider framework of bloodletting practices in Wales and Britain more broadly. In doing so, this paper also considers the ways in which TLl changed over time and how this dynamism proved a persistent threat to the authority of official medical institutions in Wales. By then discussing how TLl itself appeared to draw on diverse conceptual frameworks, it is argued that it may more accurately be defined as a practice within the confines of popular humoralism – a syncretic medical paradigm influenced by humoralism, astrology, Christianity, as well as local belief systems. Ultimately, TLl exhibited remarkable longevity and may have been practised as late as the 1970s–80s in parts of the Upper Swansea Valley, potentially representing the latest example of a humoral bloodletting practice native to the British Isles. This analysis challenges more linear narratives of biomedical ascendancy, showcasing how TLl coexisted with orthodox medicine in a pluralistic medical marketplace in which Welsh patients consistently exercised agency over their own care.

The Pinel Sanatorium, the brainchild of Doctor Antonio Carlos Pacheco e Silva, a leading figure in Brazilian psychiatry, was inaugurated in 1929 in São Paulo as a private institution. It operated until 1944, during which time it recorded approximately 4,500 hospitalisations. In 30 psychiatric records, in addition to the usual clinical records, such as the Psychiatric Examination – in which the doctor records the elements he deems essential for identifying the mental illness from different sources of information, such as those provided by family members – attachments were found containing letters and short texts written by the inpatients. Addressed to different people, these letters, which were retained and evaluated by the doctors, played a central role in assessing the psychiatric conditions of the inmates. However, by being considered historical sources that reveal the ‘point of view’ of the mad, these documents are fundamental to the development of innovative approaches in the field of the history of madness and psychiatry. Based on the articulation between the context in which these records were produced, the social markers of difference that constitute the subjects, as well as the emotions expressed by the people who wrote them, the article sets out to answer two questions: (1) How the emotions expressed – both by the inmates and by their loved ones – were interpreted by psychiatrists and used to formulate diagnoses, and to define treatments and prognoses; (2) What meanings these emotions took on for the inmates themselves, in other words, how they put their experiences and subjectivities on display.

This paper examines letters from the casebooks of the Valkenberg Lunatic Asylum in the Cape Colony during the South African War. Valkenberg was opened in 1891 in Cape Town, and was the only asylum established exclusively for white patients in the Cape. The South African War took place between 1899 and 1902, and several soldiers serving in the War were treated at Valkenberg during this period. The letters were written by a male patient who used bureaucratic and legal channels to claim his sanity and secure release from the asylum, showcasing a rare example from the archive of a patient’s voice as well as a view into the inner workings of a colonial asylum in South Africa. These letters allow a view into the personal lives of patients and attendants, the medical rules doctors followed, and instances of racism, unexpected solidarity, and loneliness. Analysing these letters reveals the changes taking place in a turbulent South Africa, including the tensions and conflicts of a country at war, the racism and nationalism of early twentieth-century South Africa, and the violence present within the asylum network. By examining letters written directly by a patient, which give voice to a perspective that official institutional records would not ordinarily allow, this paper seeks to contribute to the literature on patient voices in the history of psychiatry.

In this article we trace a biography of vacuum aspiration in Spain between the 1960s and 1980s. Analysing the local but transnationally connected history of vacuum aspiration during late Francoism and the democratic transition, we argue that this technology was since the mid-1960s reincarnated in mainstream medical discourse as vacuum curettage, presented as a major medical innovation in diagnosis and therapy. While abortion activists working at the end of the 1970s emphasized the group and political components of a technique they called the ‘Karman method’, doctors performing illegal abortions within the family planning network defined vacuum aspiration in terms of safety and medical innovation. As we demonstrate, this technique embodied meanings that at times overlapped, at others conflicted, contingent on whether aspirations were linked to medical innovation, pro-abortion activism, or social justice.

This article discusses the development of the German-speaking anti-vaccination movement from the second half of the nineteenth century to the early twentieth century as an actor-centred history of knowledge. Although the German anti-vaccination movement was a heterogeneous milieu, recurring shared narratives can be identified within the argumentation of its actors: The movement is characterised by a high affinity to conspiracy theories and an anti-science attitude. Antisemitism and völkish ideologies are also a recurring element of this radical rejection of vaccination in the German-speaking region from the second half of the nineteenth century onwards. These narratives are used to construct a knowledge system of smallpox vaccination that was an alternative to medical science and the political decisions based on it.

The physician and chemist Heinrich Mückter (1914–87) is widely known for his role in developing thalidomide at Grünenthal, whose market launch led to one of the most serious pharmaceutical scandals in history. Less scholarly attention has been paid, however, to his involvement in Nazi Germany’s typhus control and vaccine research and production between 1942 and 1945. Drawing on a variety of historical sources, this article reconstructs his work at a delousing facility in the Białystok District and at the Institute for Typhus and Virus Research of the German Army High Command in Krakow under hygienist Hermann Eyer (1906–97). We show that Mückter participated in a racially framed typhus control programme and in ethically dubious vaccine production methods. He also conducted unethical and methodologically questionable vaccine experiments on human beings in Krakow, including underage test subjects and exploiting the structural vulnerability of the occupied Polish population. In addition, we reassess assumptions about cooperation between Eyer’s Wehrmacht institute and the research station at Buchenwald concentration camp under SS physician Erwin Ding-Schuler (1912–45). Taken together, we argue that Mückter operated within a broader network of civilian and military scientists, health officials, and representatives of the pharmaceutical industry who accelerated the erosion of ethical boundaries in biomedical research and contributed to an exterminatory health and population policy in the occupied East. These practices, termed the ‘Nazi typhus complex’, reveal how preventive medicine, biomedical research, and exterminatory policies were intertwined in the context of an anti-Slavic war of annihilation and the Holocaust.

This article explores how psychiatrists conceptualised the role of family relations and emotional atmospheres in the context of schizophrenia research in the second half of the twentieth century. It traces how families became the primary site to be mined and measured to explain schizophrenia’s onset, course and outcome, and zooms in on global psychiatric investigations of expressed emotion in families of schizophrenic patients, which aimed to offer a theoretical framework for understanding one of the most intriguing and influential findings of transcultural psychiatry: that schizophrenia appeared to have a shorter course and favourable recovery rates outside the Western world. The article engages with a wealth of research materials from schizophrenia and expressed emotion studies, and a variety of voices – clinicians, patients, families – which shaped these investigations. It also draws a comparison between this discussion of ‘traditional’ families as a beneficial environment for schizophrenia, and critical psychiatric and psychoanalytic discourses from the middle decades of the century which focused on the reportedly extreme psychopathological potential of ‘schizophrenogenic’ family relations in the Western world. Analyzed through this prism, expressed emotion research constructed the Global South as a preferable, even romanticized, alternative to the Western model of family interaction. On closer inspection, however, this idealization of the traditional family involved a variety of essentializing and romanticizing ideas which reinforced the ever-present binary of the modern West versus backward Global South, and perpetuated the belief in the decolonising and developing world’s cultural and intellectual simplicity.

This paper explores and compares smoking advertisements and anti-smoking and anti-cancer messages in Australia’s migrant press, particularly newspapers, from 1930 to 1960. It investigates the ways in which smoking was promoted to migrant communities through their newspapers, contrasts this with the increasing prevalence of anti-smoking and broader anti-cancer messages, and explores whether there were any shifts in advertising and in anti-smoking messages following the growing research linking smoking and cancer (particularly lung cancer) from 1950. These messages were ultimately tied to this growing research, as well as the various Australian state and national anti-cancer campaign committees which emphasised early diagnosis and swift treatment as the best method to combat a range of cancers. Yet the Australian authorities, although finally acknowledging the dangers of cigarette smoking, rejected any government intervention other than providing the medical reports to the public. Greek-language newspapers (notably To Ethnico Vema) form an important case study; however, other foreign-language and migrant community papers were also consulted, including Italian, Jewish, and French.

In the aftermath of the Second World War, Poland faced immense public health challenges amidst widespread destruction and political transformation. This article explores the largely overlooked medical mission of the Unitarian Service Committee (USC) in Poland, situating it within both humanitarian and geopolitical contexts. Drawing on archival research and press accounts, the study reconstructs the USC’s multifaceted aid efforts, including its Medical Teaching Mission, the establishment of the Piekary Śląskie hospital, and tuberculosis control initiatives. The analysis highlights how the USC combined direct medical assistance with educational outreach, aiming to support long-term recovery. However, operating behind the Iron Curtain, the Committee’s activities were subject to both surveillance and propaganda, revealing the entanglement of health and politics in Cold War Europe. This case offers new insights into the role of non-governmental actors in shaping postwar public health and diplomacy in Eastern Europe.

This paper traces the origins of qigong fever by locating Mao Zedong’s early practice of quiet sitting in 1916 within an intellectual lineage linking Jiang Weiqiao, Yang Changji, and Mao’s classmates. Deeply rooted in the Neo-Confucian tradition of self-cultivation and the circulation of jingluo, Jiang’s quiet sitting method was reinterpreted through Japanese hygienic languages during the Republican period, and later reframed in terms of Pavlovian neurophysiology in Maoist China. In 1954, Jiang’s claim that his long-term qigong practice had verified the existence of jingluo coincided with Mao’s renewed support for Chinese medicine. By legitimising the existence of jingluo through qigong practice, the circulatory jingluo system was codified into national Chinese medicine textbooks as the discipline’s core theoretical foundation, thereby laying the institutional and epistemic groundwork for the post-Mao qigong fever.

HIV/AIDS posed a significant health threat in Denmark from the early 1980s until the end of the 1990s, claiming approximately 2,000 lives. Gay men, hemophiliacs, drug users, sex workers and migrants were overwhelmingly among the victims of the disease. They also constituted the groups most associated with it. This led to a raised level of public attention to these groups; a heightened visibility that ambiguously resulted both in improving the life conditions of some while also increasing the stigma of others. This article analyses the roles of different cross-sector actors in shaping the responses to HIV/AIDS in Denmark, with each group influencing and being influenced by the epidemic. Yet despite the clear connection between HIV/AIDS and the minoritized, often marginalized, groups, the article argues that the overarching and dominant response objective during the crisis in Denmark was to prevent a heterosexual epidemic. Throughout the crisis, other responses, aims and objectives concerning the groups most affected by HIV/AIDS could be, and did become, contingent with this dominant objective. The strengths and positions of those subresponses depended on, however, the perceptions of them as logical and tangible means to the primary end of preventing the heterosexual epidemic. Pulling together different and changing responses from different and changing actors serves to crystallize what objectives or logics are the mutual ones, and the significance of this analysis is that what appeared to be a very heterogeneous set of responses to the disease in Denmark, was in fact rooted in the same objective. Notably, the perceived pertinence of preventing the heterosexual epidemic was not rooted in actual rates of infection or spread of the disease.

Throughout the twentieth century, senior roles in UK public health were reserved for doctors. Local authority medical officers of health were replaced in 1974 by NHS community physicians and from 1989 by medical directors of public health. Over the last decade of the century, an increasingly vocal group of non-medical public health professionals sought to break the glass ceiling that restricted them from advancing to senior roles; although they received encouragement from some leaders within the Faculty of Public Health Medicine, there was also significant resistance from many members. A number of factors came together around the year 2000, which culminated in a ground-breaking decision by the English Department of Health to allow non-medical appointments as directors of public health and consultants in public health in the NHS, with the then Secretary of State memorably declaring it was time to ‘take public health out of the ghetto’. At the same time, the leadership of the Faculty of Public Health Medicine overcame opposition from some of its members and opened its training, examinations, and membership to non-medical candidates. By the early 2020s, half of the renamed Faculty of Public Health members were from backgrounds other than medicine as well as 90% of directors of public health in England. This paper explores the complex history behind this unprecedented opening of a medical specialty to non-medical membership, the factors that enabled it, and the continuing legacy of tensions and inequalities within an occupation that is both a medical specialty and a multidisciplinary profession.

During World War II, the Japanese Kwantung Army’s Unit 731 secretly conducted large-scale, inhumane, and unethical human experimentation in China, culminating in one of the most heinous medical atrocities, crimes against humanity, and war crimes in the Asia-Pacific theatre of the war. Despite the gravity of the subject matter and its historical significance, research on Unit 731 has, for a long time, been rather limited, but has gradually increased in recent decades. In this article, we identify several important characteristics and trends in research activities related to Unit 731, with a view to providing a general overview of the existing scholarship and to providing recommendations for future research.

From the 1950s to the 1970s, academic research started to accumulate. The second stage was one of rapid development from the 1980s to the 1990s. During this period, research efforts in Japan had a far-reaching influence and began to spread to China, Europe, and the U.S. Scholars from scientific, medical, and educational communities began participating in Unit 731 research successively. The third stage of multi-dimensional development began at the onset of the twenty-first century. Research expanded into comparative inquiries of Japanese medical atrocities and their Nazi counterpart; at the same time, research on many topics in diverse disciplines was also deepened and intensified. In addition to focusing on pragmatic issues such as reflections and actions of modern society and reconciliation, researchers have also been concerned with historical writing and collective memory.