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Eugenics

Five Days at Memorial

Eugenics is a doctrine of improving a population by controlling which lives are valued and, in its most extreme forms, which people are allowed to live. The book traces how arguments about social burden and collective benefit could make dependent people seem disposable, then places that history beside a disaster in which medical classifications also shaped who received protection. The comparison raises an ethical warning, not an assertion that disaster triage and eugenics are equivalent.

From burden to collective benefit

In the United States and Europe, the movement for euthanasia grew by appealing to the burdens that sick, mentally ill, and dying people were said to place on families and society. Its advocates could present helping them die as both an act of mercy and a contribution to the greater good. The reasoning also drew an analogy with the treatment of sick animals, even where a person had not expressed a wish to die. In that framework, judgments about dependency and care needs could become judgments that some lives were not worth living.

The German setting and wartime escalation

These arguments gained particular force in Germany after World War I, amid economic deprivation, suffering, and hunger. The cost of caring for older people, disabled people, people with mental illnesses, and other dependents became a focus of public concern; many lived in church-run asylums. Eugenic ideas were also increasingly defended in the language of public health. Their proponents described the people in these institutions as threats to the purity and superiority of the German race, joining cost-based arguments to a racial program.

In the early 1940s, the Nazis invoked wartime savings of money and resources to carry these ideas into involuntary euthanasia programs. The book reports that, by some estimates, as many as 200,000 people with mental illnesses or physical disabilities were killed. The regime used a survival-of-the-fittest rationale to justify the murders. After the programs were shut down, their administrators were sent to organize mass killings of Jews and others in extermination camps in Poland. The progression shows how a language of care, efficiency, and public benefit could serve policies that denied people protection altogether.

Echoes and distinctions in the hospital narrative

The book’s account of Jannie Burgess gives this history a specific social context without identifying her experience as eugenics. A nurse who had worked in private hospitals, Burgess had been unable to receive care at them because of her race; although she was born only months after Memorial opened in 1926, more than four decades passed before she could be a patient there. During the Katrina crisis, doctors made an exception to the usual evacuation protocol and placed all patients with Do Not Resuscitate orders last. Four such patients were in the ICU, including Burgess. Her history makes visible that apparently categorical rules operate on people already shaped by unequal access to care.

Another patient’s daughter had authorized a Do Not Resuscitate order for her oxygen-dependent mother, reasoning that resuscitation after cardiac arrest would not make sense at age ninety-three. When staff were told to leave the floor although nobody had come for the patient, the daughter said the order had not meant that her mother should be left without rescue. The episode distinguishes a limited instruction about resuscitation from a broader decision to withhold evacuation. Read alongside the history of eugenics, it sharpens the book’s concern with the consequences of treating a medical or social category as a verdict on a person’s claim to care; it does not establish that the hospital’s triage decision was itself eugenic.