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Ted Shotter's founding of the London Medical Group (LMG) 50 years ago in 1963 had several far reaching implications for medical ethics, as other papers in this issue indicate. Most significant for the joint authors of this short paper was his founding of the quarterly Journal of Medical Ethics (JME) in 1975, with Alastair Campbell as its first editor-in-chief. In 1980 Raanan Gillon began his 20-year editorship (after which 5-year appointments extendable for up to 2 further years were instituted!). Gillon was succeeded in 2001 by Julian Savulescu, followed by John Harris and Soren Holm in 2004, with Julian Savulescu starting his second and current term in 2011. In 2000 an additional special edition of the JME, Medical Humanities (MH), was published, under the founding joint editorship of Martyn Evans and David Greaves. In 2003 Jane Macnaughton succeeded David Greaves as joint editor. Deborah Kirklin, under whose auspices MH became an independent journal, took over in 2008, and she was succeeded in 2013 by Sue Eckstein. This short paper offers reminiscences and reflections from the two journals’ various editors. From the start the JME was committed to clearly expressed reasoned discussion of ethical issues arising from or related to medical practice and research. In particular, both Edward Shotter and Alastair Campbell, each a cleric (one Anglican, the other Presbyterian), were at pains to make clear that the JME was not a religious journal and that it had no sort of partisan axe to grind. Campbell's appointment as founding editor was something of a surprise, as the original intention had been to appoint a medical doctor, who (‘up to the elbows in blood’) could be expected to know medical practice from the inside. However, in 1972 Campbell, a Joint Secretary of the Edinburgh Medical Group, had published Moral dilemmas in medicine . …

One of the hotly debated questions, at the journal's recent editorial board meeting, was how to communicate, to our readers, the clinical relevance of the papers we publish. It is an interesting question, and one moreover that begs several others, not least amongst them being whether it is appropriate to expect a medical humanities scholarship to be directly, or indirectly relevant to patient care and clinical practice. Laying that old bugbear to one side, I would like to argue that one of the strengths of medical humanities is its ability to shine a light into some of the darker, and more neglected corners of medicine and social care, and thereby revealing what can be uncomfortable truths. Take, for example, the cover image for this issue, featuring Homeless 1 , by medical student Rory Hutchinson, one of the winners of the inaugural MDU Mark Brennan Prize (Visual Arts category). Rory's work was ‘inspired by the treatment of homeless patients within the medical system’, and aims to ‘raise awareness …

Objective To investigate whether the observational skills of doctors and nurses can be improved by arts-based observational skills training. Methods We carried out a cluster design, controlled trial involving 42 general practitioners and 26 primary care nurses in 12 primary care practices in London. Six practices were allocated to the intervention arm and 6 to the control arm. The intervention group received 90 minutes of arts-based observational skills training. The control group received practical training in the management of psoriasis. Before and after this, control and intervention participants were asked to describe 3 dermatological photographs. Descriptions were scored blindly against a predetermined marking key. Participants completed a questionnaire about the intervention, and about their own confidence in diagnosing and referring suspicious pigmented skin lesions. Results Post-intervention scores were significantly higher in the intervention group compared with the control group (P

This paper explores how current devel- opments within medical humanities might provide a way to both understand and address the origin of recent events that have left the profession branded as arrogant, out of touch and mis- guided 2 . The arts provide a powerful medium to improve the understanding of the experience of illness. Furthermore the understanding obtained is qualitatively different from that acquired in the traditional doctor- patient encounter. In addition medical humanities can create a space for doctors to reflect on their own practice and experiences. The benefits of using this space are illustrated with four examples of arts-based education deliv- ered to groups of practitioners at different stages in their professional lives.

In the fifth of a series of papers, Alan Bleakley and Rob Marshall1 “use thinking with Homer as a medium and metaphor for questioning the habitual and the taken-for-granted in contemporary [medical] practice”. The importance of being prepared to challenge the status quo has been brought into sharp and painful relief by the on-going scandals about the care, or rather lack thereof, provided to some National Health Service (NHS) patients, most notably in The Mid-Staffordshire NHS Foundation Trust. The status quo in Mid-Staffordshire was one of poor care, high mortality rates and widespread patient concern, compounded by managerial and clinical inaction. Appalling care had, quite literally, become habitual and taken-for-granted. As the inquiry report makes clear, there were many warning signs, but because of “an engrained culture of tolerance of poor standards, a focus on finance and targets, denial of concerns, and an isolation from practice elsewhere”, as well as professional disengagement whereby “clinicians did not pursue management with any vigour with concerns they may have had”, nothing was done to improve the situation.2 With hindsight, it seems all too obvious what should have …

Sometimes editors plan themed issues, sometimes they just happen. With this issue it's a little bit of both. A core of five papers (four companion, one unrelated) together set out to challenge some of the most fundamental premises on which medical humanities has established itself over the last few decades. Starting with a paper by Johanna Shapiro, and moving on to papers by Angela Woods, Estelle Noonan and Claire Hooker, Paul Macneill, and John Harley Warner, our authors are refreshingly forthright, and certainly don't pull any punches. Shapiro begins by suggesting that narrative medicine may be in danger of losing its way. She acknowledges the contribution of scholars in using theories of textual analysis to develop a “more nuanced and multifaceted appreciation” of patient narratives, but goes on to suggest that doing so risks “the unintended effect of de-legitimising the patient's voice because of concerns regarding its trustworthiness”. The irony inherent in her conclusion will not be lost on those working within the field. After all, one of the primary motivations behind the emergence of medical humanities was a growing recognition of the …

If you've accessed this editorial online then I hope you will take time to go back and look at the cover of this issue. Take time to look at Mark Gilbert's extraordinary portrait of Jarad, which is also featured in this issue's Editor's Choice article ( see page 5 ).1 If you do, then I suspect that the experience of looking at and engaging with this portrait of care will be profound, and, depending perhaps on your perspective and your experiences, even a little disturbing. For some of you this will be the first time you have born witness to someone else's experience of illness, and you may be struck by the introspective quality of Jarad's portrait. Others will already know more than they wish to about being ill or of caring for someone who is ill. One way or another, after looking at this portrait of Jarad, at least some of you may feel that you know something about him, or at least know something about what he has lived through, and how it has affected who he is. This sudden intimacy with a stranger is, for many people, an unfamiliar experience, although for many healthcare professionals it is …