Archive for April, 2010

Kelpie Wilson: WorldStove: Transforming Haiti and the World

WorldStove founder Nathaniel Mulcahy has just completed two months of work in Haiti, setting up a pilot project that will provide biochar-producing stoves and jobs for the Haitian people. The project was featured in an Earth Day press release from the UN Special Envoy to Haiti (former President Clinton) as an example of “building back better” by incorporating environmental sustainability in the recovery effort.

Before WorldStove, Mulcahy was an award-winning industrial designer creating consumer products for large corporations like Emerson Appliances. Eight years ago, while lying in bed recovering from a life-threatening accident, he realized that he needed to focus his energies on innovative designs to improve the quality of life for people who were less fortunate. The result was his invention of the fuel efficient, low emissions LuciaStove, named after the canine companion who saved his life.

The breakthrough that set the LuciaStove apart from similar gasifer stoves was Mulcahy’s patented design which uses venturi holes to create negative pressure while a flame cap based on Fibonacci spiral geometry prevents oxygen from entering the pyrolysis chamber. The combination delivers better air control for cleaner combustion of the gases produced from the biomass it uses as fuel. It also produces biochar.

Mulcahy says that people are often surprised that such a sophisticated design would be used for such a simple product, a cook stove for developing countries. Mulcahy answers, “Why should we provide developing nations with stoves that look like cast off scrap? Style or elegance of design usually only involves added thought, not added cost.”

Mulcahy considers it a matter of respect not only to offer a clean, efficient stove to the world’s poor, but to make sure that the stove is adapted to people’s needs and not the other way around. WorldStove pilot projects in several African countries, Indonesia, and the Philippines have encountered all manner of local conditions that have required changes in the stove setup or manufacturing techniques.

The adaptability of the Lucia stove faced its greatest test in Haiti this winter where Mulcahy carried out a WorldStove Pilot Program in the short space of two months. He not only redesigned the stove to be produced with available tools and materials, but he completed a camp survey. The fact that since the quake more children have been forced to take responsibility for cooking made safety a top priority, so Mulcahy developed a Haitian specific pot stand with heat-shield and windscreen to accommodate the wide variety of pots used in Haiti and protect children from burns.

Left: The blue flame indicates that the Haiti Lucia stove is burning cleanly and efficiently. Right: Children have taken on more cooking responsibilities since the earthquake. Photo Credit: World Stove

Local versions of the Lucia stove must be tuned to work with available fuels. Peanut shells need different conditions than rice hulls, for instance. Mulcahy found that Haiti has many waste products that can be made into fuel pellets or used directly, including sugar cane waste, rice hulls, coffee hulls, bamboo, sawdust, coconut shells, mango pits, palm fronds and waste paper.

One of the best moments of Mulcahy’s two months in Haiti was the day he first tuned a locally-built stove to run on the available pellets. That night he was able to cook a plateful of rice, beans and meat sauce for 21 people with only three handfuls of pellets.

Another prize moment occurred when Mulcahy showed up late to a village artisan’s shop only to find the artisan already engaging a crowd of people demonstrating the stove and explaining how the biochar would help restore their soils. The metal workers began to add decorations of trees and birds to the stoves, telling Mulcahy that the pictures represent what will happen if people use the stoves to make biochar – the trees and birds will come back to Haiti.

Nathaniel Mulcahy showing designs that metal workers added to the stove wind screens. The metal workers say that trees and birds will return to Haiti when the soil is rebuilt with biochar. Photo Credit: World Stove

Almost a third of Haiti’s land has lost so much topsoil that it is not possible to grow food crops. As a result, Haiti can no longer feed itself and people have fled to the cities where they were more vulnerable during the earthquake. Biochar can be a critical factor not only in restoring topsoil to Haiti but in revitalizing the rural economy and repopulating the countryside.

In the next phase of the Haiti project, WorldStove will work with United Nations Environmental Programme (UNEP), the World Food Programme (WFP) and the Haitian Government to build stove-manufacturing hubs and create thousands of jobs making pellets and distributing biochar in the rural areas. Preliminary agreements are in place with 48 agricultural cooperatives that will provide crop waste for pellet production. The farmers will receive a proportionate amount of biochar in return to build their soils and increase production.

Mulcahy invites anyone who is interested in learning more about next steps in Haiti to visit the WorldStove website, www.worldstove.com. For updates, you can sign up for the World Stove Twitter feed @WorldStove.

Kelpie Wilson is the communications editor for the International Biochar Initiative, working to promote sustainable biochar as a powerfully simple tool to fight global warming and boost food security.

More on Haiti Earthquake

Kelpie Wilson: WorldStove: Transforming Haiti and the World

WorldStove founder Nathaniel Mulcahy has just completed two months of work in Haiti, setting up a pilot project that will provide biochar-producing stoves and jobs for the Haitian people. The project was featured in an Earth Day press release from the UN Special Envoy to Haiti (former President Clinton) as an example of “building back better” by incorporating environmental sustainability in the recovery effort.

Before WorldStove, Mulcahy was an award-winning industrial designer creating consumer products for large corporations like Emerson Appliances. Eight years ago, while lying in bed recovering from a life-threatening accident, he realized that he needed to focus his energies on innovative designs to improve the quality of life for people who were less fortunate. The result was his invention of the fuel efficient, low emissions LuciaStove, named after the canine companion who saved his life.

The breakthrough that set the LuciaStove apart from similar gasifer stoves was Mulcahy’s patented design which uses venturi holes to create negative pressure while a flame cap based on Fibonacci spiral geometry prevents oxygen from entering the pyrolysis chamber. The combination delivers better air control for cleaner combustion of the gases produced from the biomass it uses as fuel. It also produces biochar.

Mulcahy says that people are often surprised that such a sophisticated design would be used for such a simple product, a cook stove for developing countries. Mulcahy answers, “Why should we provide developing nations with stoves that look like cast off scrap? Style or elegance of design usually only involves added thought, not added cost.”

Mulcahy considers it a matter of respect not only to offer a clean, efficient stove to the world’s poor, but to make sure that the stove is adapted to people’s needs and not the other way around. WorldStove pilot projects in several African countries, Indonesia, and the Philippines have encountered all manner of local conditions that have required changes in the stove setup or manufacturing techniques.

The adaptability of the Lucia stove faced its greatest test in Haiti this winter where Mulcahy carried out a WorldStove Pilot Program in the short space of two months. He not only redesigned the stove to be produced with available tools and materials, but he completed a camp survey. The fact that since the quake more children have been forced to take responsibility for cooking made safety a top priority, so Mulcahy developed a Haitian specific pot stand with heat-shield and windscreen to accommodate the wide variety of pots used in Haiti and protect children from burns.

Left: The blue flame indicates that the Haiti Lucia stove is burning cleanly and efficiently. Right: Children have taken on more cooking responsibilities since the earthquake. Photo Credit: World Stove

Local versions of the Lucia stove must be tuned to work with available fuels. Peanut shells need different conditions than rice hulls, for instance. Mulcahy found that Haiti has many waste products that can be made into fuel pellets or used directly, including sugar cane waste, rice hulls, coffee hulls, bamboo, sawdust, coconut shells, mango pits, palm fronds and waste paper.

One of the best moments of Mulcahy’s two months in Haiti was the day he first tuned a locally-built stove to run on the available pellets. That night he was able to cook a plateful of rice, beans and meat sauce for 21 people with only three handfuls of pellets.

Another prize moment occurred when Mulcahy showed up late to a village artisan’s shop only to find the artisan already engaging a crowd of people demonstrating the stove and explaining how the biochar would help restore their soils. The metal workers began to add decorations of trees and birds to the stoves, telling Mulcahy that the pictures represent what will happen if people use the stoves to make biochar – the trees and birds will come back to Haiti.

Nathaniel Mulcahy showing designs that metal workers added to the stove wind screens. The metal workers say that trees and birds will return to Haiti when the soil is rebuilt with biochar. Photo Credit: World Stove

Almost a third of Haiti’s land has lost so much topsoil that it is not possible to grow food crops. As a result, Haiti can no longer feed itself and people have fled to the cities where they were more vulnerable during the earthquake. Biochar can be a critical factor not only in restoring topsoil to Haiti but in revitalizing the rural economy and repopulating the countryside.

In the next phase of the Haiti project, WorldStove will work with United Nations Environmental Programme (UNEP), the World Food Programme (WFP) and the Haitian Government to build stove-manufacturing hubs and create thousands of jobs making pellets and distributing biochar in the rural areas. Preliminary agreements are in place with 48 agricultural cooperatives that will provide crop waste for pellet production. The farmers will receive a proportionate amount of biochar in return to build their soils and increase production.

Mulcahy invites anyone who is interested in learning more about next steps in Haiti to visit the WorldStove website, www.worldstove.com. For updates, you can sign up for the World Stove Twitter feed @WorldStove.

Kelpie Wilson is the communications editor for the International Biochar Initiative, working to promote sustainable biochar as a powerfully simple tool to fight global warming and boost food security.

More on Haiti Earthquake

Kelpie Wilson: WorldStove: Transforming Haiti and the World

WorldStove founder Nathaniel Mulcahy has just completed two months of work in Haiti, setting up a pilot project that will provide biochar-producing stoves and jobs for the Haitian people. The project was featured in an Earth Day press release from the UN Special Envoy to Haiti (former President Clinton) as an example of “building back better” by incorporating environmental sustainability in the recovery effort.

Before WorldStove, Mulcahy was an award-winning industrial designer creating consumer products for large corporations like Emerson Appliances. Eight years ago, while lying in bed recovering from a life-threatening accident, he realized that he needed to focus his energies on innovative designs to improve the quality of life for people who were less fortunate. The result was his invention of the fuel efficient, low emissions LuciaStove, named after the canine companion who saved his life.

The breakthrough that set the LuciaStove apart from similar gasifer stoves was Mulcahy’s patented design which uses venturi holes to create negative pressure while a flame cap based on Fibonacci spiral geometry prevents oxygen from entering the pyrolysis chamber. The combination delivers better air control for cleaner combustion of the gases produced from the biomass it uses as fuel. It also produces biochar.

Mulcahy says that people are often surprised that such a sophisticated design would be used for such a simple product, a cook stove for developing countries. Mulcahy answers, “Why should we provide developing nations with stoves that look like cast off scrap? Style or elegance of design usually only involves added thought, not added cost.”

Mulcahy considers it a matter of respect not only to offer a clean, efficient stove to the world’s poor, but to make sure that the stove is adapted to people’s needs and not the other way around. WorldStove pilot projects in several African countries, Indonesia, and the Philippines have encountered all manner of local conditions that have required changes in the stove setup or manufacturing techniques.

The adaptability of the Lucia stove faced its greatest test in Haiti this winter where Mulcahy carried out a WorldStove Pilot Program in the short space of two months. He not only redesigned the stove to be produced with available tools and materials, but he completed a camp survey. The fact that since the quake more children have been forced to take responsibility for cooking made safety a top priority, so Mulcahy developed a Haitian specific pot stand with heat-shield and windscreen to accommodate the wide variety of pots used in Haiti and protect children from burns.

Left: The blue flame indicates that the Haiti Lucia stove is burning cleanly and efficiently. Right: Children have taken on more cooking responsibilities since the earthquake. Photo Credit: World Stove

Local versions of the Lucia stove must be tuned to work with available fuels. Peanut shells need different conditions than rice hulls, for instance. Mulcahy found that Haiti has many waste products that can be made into fuel pellets or used directly, including sugar cane waste, rice hulls, coffee hulls, bamboo, sawdust, coconut shells, mango pits, palm fronds and waste paper.

One of the best moments of Mulcahy’s two months in Haiti was the day he first tuned a locally-built stove to run on the available pellets. That night he was able to cook a plateful of rice, beans and meat sauce for 21 people with only three handfuls of pellets.

Another prize moment occurred when Mulcahy showed up late to a village artisan’s shop only to find the artisan already engaging a crowd of people demonstrating the stove and explaining how the biochar would help restore their soils. The metal workers began to add decorations of trees and birds to the stoves, telling Mulcahy that the pictures represent what will happen if people use the stoves to make biochar – the trees and birds will come back to Haiti.

Nathaniel Mulcahy showing designs that metal workers added to the stove wind screens. The metal workers say that trees and birds will return to Haiti when the soil is rebuilt with biochar. Photo Credit: World Stove

Almost a third of Haiti’s land has lost so much topsoil that it is not possible to grow food crops. As a result, Haiti can no longer feed itself and people have fled to the cities where they were more vulnerable during the earthquake. Biochar can be a critical factor not only in restoring topsoil to Haiti but in revitalizing the rural economy and repopulating the countryside.

In the next phase of the Haiti project, WorldStove will work with United Nations Environmental Programme (UNEP), the World Food Programme (WFP) and the Haitian Government to build stove-manufacturing hubs and create thousands of jobs making pellets and distributing biochar in the rural areas. Preliminary agreements are in place with 48 agricultural cooperatives that will provide crop waste for pellet production. The farmers will receive a proportionate amount of biochar in return to build their soils and increase production.

Mulcahy invites anyone who is interested in learning more about next steps in Haiti to visit the WorldStove website, www.worldstove.com. For updates, you can sign up for the World Stove Twitter feed @WorldStove.

Kelpie Wilson is the communications editor for the International Biochar Initiative, working to promote sustainable biochar as a powerfully simple tool to fight global warming and boost food security.

More on Haiti Earthquake

Kelpie Wilson: WorldStove: Transforming Haiti and the World

WorldStove founder Nathaniel Mulcahy has just completed two months of work in Haiti, setting up a pilot project that will provide biochar-producing stoves and jobs for the Haitian people. The project was featured in an Earth Day press release from the UN Special Envoy to Haiti (former President Clinton) as an example of “building back better” by incorporating environmental sustainability in the recovery effort.

Before WorldStove, Mulcahy was an award-winning industrial designer creating consumer products for large corporations like Emerson Appliances. Eight years ago, while lying in bed recovering from a life-threatening accident, he realized that he needed to focus his energies on innovative designs to improve the quality of life for people who were less fortunate. The result was his invention of the fuel efficient, low emissions LuciaStove, named after the canine companion who saved his life.

The breakthrough that set the LuciaStove apart from similar gasifer stoves was Mulcahy’s patented design which uses venturi holes to create negative pressure while a flame cap based on Fibonacci spiral geometry prevents oxygen from entering the pyrolysis chamber. The combination delivers better air control for cleaner combustion of the gases produced from the biomass it uses as fuel. It also produces biochar.

Mulcahy says that people are often surprised that such a sophisticated design would be used for such a simple product, a cook stove for developing countries. Mulcahy answers, “Why should we provide developing nations with stoves that look like cast off scrap? Style or elegance of design usually only involves added thought, not added cost.”

Mulcahy considers it a matter of respect not only to offer a clean, efficient stove to the world’s poor, but to make sure that the stove is adapted to people’s needs and not the other way around. WorldStove pilot projects in several African countries, Indonesia, and the Philippines have encountered all manner of local conditions that have required changes in the stove setup or manufacturing techniques.

The adaptability of the Lucia stove faced its greatest test in Haiti this winter where Mulcahy carried out a WorldStove Pilot Program in the short space of two months. He not only redesigned the stove to be produced with available tools and materials, but he completed a camp survey. The fact that since the quake more children have been forced to take responsibility for cooking made safety a top priority, so Mulcahy developed a Haitian specific pot stand with heat-shield and windscreen to accommodate the wide variety of pots used in Haiti and protect children from burns.

Left: The blue flame indicates that the Haiti Lucia stove is burning cleanly and efficiently. Right: Children have taken on more cooking responsibilities since the earthquake. Photo Credit: World Stove

Local versions of the Lucia stove must be tuned to work with available fuels. Peanut shells need different conditions than rice hulls, for instance. Mulcahy found that Haiti has many waste products that can be made into fuel pellets or used directly, including sugar cane waste, rice hulls, coffee hulls, bamboo, sawdust, coconut shells, mango pits, palm fronds and waste paper.

One of the best moments of Mulcahy’s two months in Haiti was the day he first tuned a locally-built stove to run on the available pellets. That night he was able to cook a plateful of rice, beans and meat sauce for 21 people with only three handfuls of pellets.

Another prize moment occurred when Mulcahy showed up late to a village artisan’s shop only to find the artisan already engaging a crowd of people demonstrating the stove and explaining how the biochar would help restore their soils. The metal workers began to add decorations of trees and birds to the stoves, telling Mulcahy that the pictures represent what will happen if people use the stoves to make biochar – the trees and birds will come back to Haiti.

Nathaniel Mulcahy showing designs that metal workers added to the stove wind screens. The metal workers say that trees and birds will return to Haiti when the soil is rebuilt with biochar. Photo Credit: World Stove

Almost a third of Haiti’s land has lost so much topsoil that it is not possible to grow food crops. As a result, Haiti can no longer feed itself and people have fled to the cities where they were more vulnerable during the earthquake. Biochar can be a critical factor not only in restoring topsoil to Haiti but in revitalizing the rural economy and repopulating the countryside.

In the next phase of the Haiti project, WorldStove will work with United Nations Environmental Programme (UNEP), the World Food Programme (WFP) and the Haitian Government to build stove-manufacturing hubs and create thousands of jobs making pellets and distributing biochar in the rural areas. Preliminary agreements are in place with 48 agricultural cooperatives that will provide crop waste for pellet production. The farmers will receive a proportionate amount of biochar in return to build their soils and increase production.

Mulcahy invites anyone who is interested in learning more about next steps in Haiti to visit the WorldStove website, www.worldstove.com. For updates, you can sign up for the World Stove Twitter feed @WorldStove.

Kelpie Wilson is the communications editor for the International Biochar Initiative, working to promote sustainable biochar as a powerfully simple tool to fight global warming and boost food security.

More on Haiti Earthquake

Kelpie Wilson: WorldStove: Transforming Haiti and the World

WorldStove founder Nathaniel Mulcahy has just completed two months of work in Haiti, setting up a pilot project that will provide biochar-producing stoves and jobs for the Haitian people. The project was featured in an Earth Day press release from the UN Special Envoy to Haiti (former President Clinton) as an example of “building back better” by incorporating environmental sustainability in the recovery effort.

Before WorldStove, Mulcahy was an award-winning industrial designer creating consumer products for large corporations like Emerson Appliances. Eight years ago, while lying in bed recovering from a life-threatening accident, he realized that he needed to focus his energies on innovative designs to improve the quality of life for people who were less fortunate. The result was his invention of the fuel efficient, low emissions LuciaStove, named after the canine companion who saved his life.

The breakthrough that set the LuciaStove apart from similar gasifer stoves was Mulcahy’s patented design which uses venturi holes to create negative pressure while a flame cap based on Fibonacci spiral geometry prevents oxygen from entering the pyrolysis chamber. The combination delivers better air control for cleaner combustion of the gases produced from the biomass it uses as fuel. It also produces biochar.

Mulcahy says that people are often surprised that such a sophisticated design would be used for such a simple product, a cook stove for developing countries. Mulcahy answers, “Why should we provide developing nations with stoves that look like cast off scrap? Style or elegance of design usually only involves added thought, not added cost.”

Mulcahy considers it a matter of respect not only to offer a clean, efficient stove to the world’s poor, but to make sure that the stove is adapted to people’s needs and not the other way around. WorldStove pilot projects in several African countries, Indonesia, and the Philippines have encountered all manner of local conditions that have required changes in the stove setup or manufacturing techniques.

The adaptability of the Lucia stove faced its greatest test in Haiti this winter where Mulcahy carried out a WorldStove Pilot Program in the short space of two months. He not only redesigned the stove to be produced with available tools and materials, but he completed a camp survey. The fact that since the quake more children have been forced to take responsibility for cooking made safety a top priority, so Mulcahy developed a Haitian specific pot stand with heat-shield and windscreen to accommodate the wide variety of pots used in Haiti and protect children from burns.

Left: The blue flame indicates that the Haiti Lucia stove is burning cleanly and efficiently. Right: Children have taken on more cooking responsibilities since the earthquake. Photo Credit: World Stove

Local versions of the Lucia stove must be tuned to work with available fuels. Peanut shells need different conditions than rice hulls, for instance. Mulcahy found that Haiti has many waste products that can be made into fuel pellets or used directly, including sugar cane waste, rice hulls, coffee hulls, bamboo, sawdust, coconut shells, mango pits, palm fronds and waste paper.

One of the best moments of Mulcahy’s two months in Haiti was the day he first tuned a locally-built stove to run on the available pellets. That night he was able to cook a plateful of rice, beans and meat sauce for 21 people with only three handfuls of pellets.

Another prize moment occurred when Mulcahy showed up late to a village artisan’s shop only to find the artisan already engaging a crowd of people demonstrating the stove and explaining how the biochar would help restore their soils. The metal workers began to add decorations of trees and birds to the stoves, telling Mulcahy that the pictures represent what will happen if people use the stoves to make biochar – the trees and birds will come back to Haiti.

Nathaniel Mulcahy showing designs that metal workers added to the stove wind screens. The metal workers say that trees and birds will return to Haiti when the soil is rebuilt with biochar. Photo Credit: World Stove

Almost a third of Haiti’s land has lost so much topsoil that it is not possible to grow food crops. As a result, Haiti can no longer feed itself and people have fled to the cities where they were more vulnerable during the earthquake. Biochar can be a critical factor not only in restoring topsoil to Haiti but in revitalizing the rural economy and repopulating the countryside.

In the next phase of the Haiti project, WorldStove will work with United Nations Environmental Programme (UNEP), the World Food Programme (WFP) and the Haitian Government to build stove-manufacturing hubs and create thousands of jobs making pellets and distributing biochar in the rural areas. Preliminary agreements are in place with 48 agricultural cooperatives that will provide crop waste for pellet production. The farmers will receive a proportionate amount of biochar in return to build their soils and increase production.

Mulcahy invites anyone who is interested in learning more about next steps in Haiti to visit the WorldStove website, www.worldstove.com. For updates, you can sign up for the World Stove Twitter feed @WorldStove.

Kelpie Wilson is the communications editor for the International Biochar Initiative, working to promote sustainable biochar as a powerfully simple tool to fight global warming and boost food security.

More on Haiti Earthquake

Kelpie Wilson: WorldStove: Transforming Haiti and the World

WorldStove founder Nathaniel Mulcahy has just completed two months of work in Haiti, setting up a pilot project that will provide biochar-producing stoves and jobs for the Haitian people. The project was featured in an Earth Day press release from the UN Special Envoy to Haiti (former President Clinton) as an example of “building back better” by incorporating environmental sustainability in the recovery effort.

Before WorldStove, Mulcahy was an award-winning industrial designer creating consumer products for large corporations like Emerson Appliances. Eight years ago, while lying in bed recovering from a life-threatening accident, he realized that he needed to focus his energies on innovative designs to improve the quality of life for people who were less fortunate. The result was his invention of the fuel efficient, low emissions LuciaStove, named after the canine companion who saved his life.

The breakthrough that set the LuciaStove apart from similar gasifer stoves was Mulcahy’s patented design which uses venturi holes to create negative pressure while a flame cap based on Fibonacci spiral geometry prevents oxygen from entering the pyrolysis chamber. The combination delivers better air control for cleaner combustion of the gases produced from the biomass it uses as fuel. It also produces biochar.

Mulcahy says that people are often surprised that such a sophisticated design would be used for such a simple product, a cook stove for developing countries. Mulcahy answers, “Why should we provide developing nations with stoves that look like cast off scrap? Style or elegance of design usually only involves added thought, not added cost.”

Mulcahy considers it a matter of respect not only to offer a clean, efficient stove to the world’s poor, but to make sure that the stove is adapted to people’s needs and not the other way around. WorldStove pilot projects in several African countries, Indonesia, and the Philippines have encountered all manner of local conditions that have required changes in the stove setup or manufacturing techniques.

The adaptability of the Lucia stove faced its greatest test in Haiti this winter where Mulcahy carried out a WorldStove Pilot Program in the short space of two months. He not only redesigned the stove to be produced with available tools and materials, but he completed a camp survey. The fact that since the quake more children have been forced to take responsibility for cooking made safety a top priority, so Mulcahy developed a Haitian specific pot stand with heat-shield and windscreen to accommodate the wide variety of pots used in Haiti and protect children from burns.

Left: The blue flame indicates that the Haiti Lucia stove is burning cleanly and efficiently. Right: Children have taken on more cooking responsibilities since the earthquake. Photo Credit: World Stove

Local versions of the Lucia stove must be tuned to work with available fuels. Peanut shells need different conditions than rice hulls, for instance. Mulcahy found that Haiti has many waste products that can be made into fuel pellets or used directly, including sugar cane waste, rice hulls, coffee hulls, bamboo, sawdust, coconut shells, mango pits, palm fronds and waste paper.

One of the best moments of Mulcahy’s two months in Haiti was the day he first tuned a locally-built stove to run on the available pellets. That night he was able to cook a plateful of rice, beans and meat sauce for 21 people with only three handfuls of pellets.

Another prize moment occurred when Mulcahy showed up late to a village artisan’s shop only to find the artisan already engaging a crowd of people demonstrating the stove and explaining how the biochar would help restore their soils. The metal workers began to add decorations of trees and birds to the stoves, telling Mulcahy that the pictures represent what will happen if people use the stoves to make biochar – the trees and birds will come back to Haiti.

Nathaniel Mulcahy showing designs that metal workers added to the stove wind screens. The metal workers say that trees and birds will return to Haiti when the soil is rebuilt with biochar. Photo Credit: World Stove

Almost a third of Haiti’s land has lost so much topsoil that it is not possible to grow food crops. As a result, Haiti can no longer feed itself and people have fled to the cities where they were more vulnerable during the earthquake. Biochar can be a critical factor not only in restoring topsoil to Haiti but in revitalizing the rural economy and repopulating the countryside.

In the next phase of the Haiti project, WorldStove will work with United Nations Environmental Programme (UNEP), the World Food Programme (WFP) and the Haitian Government to build stove-manufacturing hubs and create thousands of jobs making pellets and distributing biochar in the rural areas. Preliminary agreements are in place with 48 agricultural cooperatives that will provide crop waste for pellet production. The farmers will receive a proportionate amount of biochar in return to build their soils and increase production.

Mulcahy invites anyone who is interested in learning more about next steps in Haiti to visit the WorldStove website, www.worldstove.com. For updates, you can sign up for the World Stove Twitter feed @WorldStove.

Kelpie Wilson is the communications editor for the International Biochar Initiative, working to promote sustainable biochar as a powerfully simple tool to fight global warming and boost food security.

More on Haiti Earthquake

Kelpie Wilson: WorldStove: Transforming Haiti and the World

WorldStove founder Nathaniel Mulcahy has just completed two months of work in Haiti, setting up a pilot project that will provide biochar-producing stoves and jobs for the Haitian people. The project was featured in an Earth Day press release from the UN Special Envoy to Haiti (former President Clinton) as an example of “building back better” by incorporating environmental sustainability in the recovery effort.

Before WorldStove, Mulcahy was an award-winning industrial designer creating consumer products for large corporations like Emerson Appliances. Eight years ago, while lying in bed recovering from a life-threatening accident, he realized that he needed to focus his energies on innovative designs to improve the quality of life for people who were less fortunate. The result was his invention of the fuel efficient, low emissions LuciaStove, named after the canine companion who saved his life.

The breakthrough that set the LuciaStove apart from similar gasifer stoves was Mulcahy’s patented design which uses venturi holes to create negative pressure while a flame cap based on Fibonacci spiral geometry prevents oxygen from entering the pyrolysis chamber. The combination delivers better air control for cleaner combustion of the gases produced from the biomass it uses as fuel. It also produces biochar.

Mulcahy says that people are often surprised that such a sophisticated design would be used for such a simple product, a cook stove for developing countries. Mulcahy answers, “Why should we provide developing nations with stoves that look like cast off scrap? Style or elegance of design usually only involves added thought, not added cost.”

Mulcahy considers it a matter of respect not only to offer a clean, efficient stove to the world’s poor, but to make sure that the stove is adapted to people’s needs and not the other way around. WorldStove pilot projects in several African countries, Indonesia, and the Philippines have encountered all manner of local conditions that have required changes in the stove setup or manufacturing techniques.

The adaptability of the Lucia stove faced its greatest test in Haiti this winter where Mulcahy carried out a WorldStove Pilot Program in the short space of two months. He not only redesigned the stove to be produced with available tools and materials, but he completed a camp survey. The fact that since the quake more children have been forced to take responsibility for cooking made safety a top priority, so Mulcahy developed a Haitian specific pot stand with heat-shield and windscreen to accommodate the wide variety of pots used in Haiti and protect children from burns.

Left: The blue flame indicates that the Haiti Lucia stove is burning cleanly and efficiently. Right: Children have taken on more cooking responsibilities since the earthquake. Photo Credit: World Stove

Local versions of the Lucia stove must be tuned to work with available fuels. Peanut shells need different conditions than rice hulls, for instance. Mulcahy found that Haiti has many waste products that can be made into fuel pellets or used directly, including sugar cane waste, rice hulls, coffee hulls, bamboo, sawdust, coconut shells, mango pits, palm fronds and waste paper.

One of the best moments of Mulcahy’s two months in Haiti was the day he first tuned a locally-built stove to run on the available pellets. That night he was able to cook a plateful of rice, beans and meat sauce for 21 people with only three handfuls of pellets.

Another prize moment occurred when Mulcahy showed up late to a village artisan’s shop only to find the artisan already engaging a crowd of people demonstrating the stove and explaining how the biochar would help restore their soils. The metal workers began to add decorations of trees and birds to the stoves, telling Mulcahy that the pictures represent what will happen if people use the stoves to make biochar – the trees and birds will come back to Haiti.

Nathaniel Mulcahy showing designs that metal workers added to the stove wind screens. The metal workers say that trees and birds will return to Haiti when the soil is rebuilt with biochar. Photo Credit: World Stove

Almost a third of Haiti’s land has lost so much topsoil that it is not possible to grow food crops. As a result, Haiti can no longer feed itself and people have fled to the cities where they were more vulnerable during the earthquake. Biochar can be a critical factor not only in restoring topsoil to Haiti but in revitalizing the rural economy and repopulating the countryside.

In the next phase of the Haiti project, WorldStove will work with United Nations Environmental Programme (UNEP), the World Food Programme (WFP) and the Haitian Government to build stove-manufacturing hubs and create thousands of jobs making pellets and distributing biochar in the rural areas. Preliminary agreements are in place with 48 agricultural cooperatives that will provide crop waste for pellet production. The farmers will receive a proportionate amount of biochar in return to build their soils and increase production.

Mulcahy invites anyone who is interested in learning more about next steps in Haiti to visit the WorldStove website, www.worldstove.com. For updates, you can sign up for the World Stove Twitter feed @WorldStove.

Kelpie Wilson is the communications editor for the International Biochar Initiative, working to promote sustainable biochar as a powerfully simple tool to fight global warming and boost food security.

More on Haiti Earthquake

Kelpie Wilson: WorldStove: Transforming Haiti and the World

WorldStove founder Nathaniel Mulcahy has just completed two months of work in Haiti, setting up a pilot project that will provide biochar-producing stoves and jobs for the Haitian people. The project was featured in an Earth Day press release from the UN Special Envoy to Haiti (former President Clinton) as an example of “building back better” by incorporating environmental sustainability in the recovery effort.

Before WorldStove, Mulcahy was an award-winning industrial designer creating consumer products for large corporations like Emerson Appliances. Eight years ago, while lying in bed recovering from a life-threatening accident, he realized that he needed to focus his energies on innovative designs to improve the quality of life for people who were less fortunate. The result was his invention of the fuel efficient, low emissions LuciaStove, named after the canine companion who saved his life.

The breakthrough that set the LuciaStove apart from similar gasifer stoves was Mulcahy’s patented design which uses venturi holes to create negative pressure while a flame cap based on Fibonacci spiral geometry prevents oxygen from entering the pyrolysis chamber. The combination delivers better air control for cleaner combustion of the gases produced from the biomass it uses as fuel. It also produces biochar.

Mulcahy says that people are often surprised that such a sophisticated design would be used for such a simple product, a cook stove for developing countries. Mulcahy answers, “Why should we provide developing nations with stoves that look like cast off scrap? Style or elegance of design usually only involves added thought, not added cost.”

Mulcahy considers it a matter of respect not only to offer a clean, efficient stove to the world’s poor, but to make sure that the stove is adapted to people’s needs and not the other way around. WorldStove pilot projects in several African countries, Indonesia, and the Philippines have encountered all manner of local conditions that have required changes in the stove setup or manufacturing techniques.

The adaptability of the Lucia stove faced its greatest test in Haiti this winter where Mulcahy carried out a WorldStove Pilot Program in the short space of two months. He not only redesigned the stove to be produced with available tools and materials, but he completed a camp survey. The fact that since the quake more children have been forced to take responsibility for cooking made safety a top priority, so Mulcahy developed a Haitian specific pot stand with heat-shield and windscreen to accommodate the wide variety of pots used in Haiti and protect children from burns.

Left: The blue flame indicates that the Haiti Lucia stove is burning cleanly and efficiently. Right: Children have taken on more cooking responsibilities since the earthquake. Photo Credit: World Stove

Local versions of the Lucia stove must be tuned to work with available fuels. Peanut shells need different conditions than rice hulls, for instance. Mulcahy found that Haiti has many waste products that can be made into fuel pellets or used directly, including sugar cane waste, rice hulls, coffee hulls, bamboo, sawdust, coconut shells, mango pits, palm fronds and waste paper.

One of the best moments of Mulcahy’s two months in Haiti was the day he first tuned a locally-built stove to run on the available pellets. That night he was able to cook a plateful of rice, beans and meat sauce for 21 people with only three handfuls of pellets.

Another prize moment occurred when Mulcahy showed up late to a village artisan’s shop only to find the artisan already engaging a crowd of people demonstrating the stove and explaining how the biochar would help restore their soils. The metal workers began to add decorations of trees and birds to the stoves, telling Mulcahy that the pictures represent what will happen if people use the stoves to make biochar – the trees and birds will come back to Haiti.

Nathaniel Mulcahy showing designs that metal workers added to the stove wind screens. The metal workers say that trees and birds will return to Haiti when the soil is rebuilt with biochar. Photo Credit: World Stove

Almost a third of Haiti’s land has lost so much topsoil that it is not possible to grow food crops. As a result, Haiti can no longer feed itself and people have fled to the cities where they were more vulnerable during the earthquake. Biochar can be a critical factor not only in restoring topsoil to Haiti but in revitalizing the rural economy and repopulating the countryside.

In the next phase of the Haiti project, WorldStove will work with United Nations Environmental Programme (UNEP), the World Food Programme (WFP) and the Haitian Government to build stove-manufacturing hubs and create thousands of jobs making pellets and distributing biochar in the rural areas. Preliminary agreements are in place with 48 agricultural cooperatives that will provide crop waste for pellet production. The farmers will receive a proportionate amount of biochar in return to build their soils and increase production.

Mulcahy invites anyone who is interested in learning more about next steps in Haiti to visit the WorldStove website, www.worldstove.com. For updates, you can sign up for the World Stove Twitter feed @WorldStove.

Kelpie Wilson is the communications editor for the International Biochar Initiative, working to promote sustainable biochar as a powerfully simple tool to fight global warming and boost food security.

More on Haiti Earthquake

Kelpie Wilson: WorldStove: Transforming Haiti and the World

WorldStove founder Nathaniel Mulcahy has just completed two months of work in Haiti, setting up a pilot project that will provide biochar-producing stoves and jobs for the Haitian people. The project was featured in an Earth Day press release from the UN Special Envoy to Haiti (former President Clinton) as an example of “building back better” by incorporating environmental sustainability in the recovery effort.

Before WorldStove, Mulcahy was an award-winning industrial designer creating consumer products for large corporations like Emerson Appliances. Eight years ago, while lying in bed recovering from a life-threatening accident, he realized that he needed to focus his energies on innovative designs to improve the quality of life for people who were less fortunate. The result was his invention of the fuel efficient, low emissions LuciaStove, named after the canine companion who saved his life.

The breakthrough that set the LuciaStove apart from similar gasifer stoves was Mulcahy’s patented design which uses venturi holes to create negative pressure while a flame cap based on Fibonacci spiral geometry prevents oxygen from entering the pyrolysis chamber. The combination delivers better air control for cleaner combustion of the gases produced from the biomass it uses as fuel. It also produces biochar.

Mulcahy says that people are often surprised that such a sophisticated design would be used for such a simple product, a cook stove for developing countries. Mulcahy answers, “Why should we provide developing nations with stoves that look like cast off scrap? Style or elegance of design usually only involves added thought, not added cost.”

Mulcahy considers it a matter of respect not only to offer a clean, efficient stove to the world’s poor, but to make sure that the stove is adapted to people’s needs and not the other way around. WorldStove pilot projects in several African countries, Indonesia, and the Philippines have encountered all manner of local conditions that have required changes in the stove setup or manufacturing techniques.

The adaptability of the Lucia stove faced its greatest test in Haiti this winter where Mulcahy carried out a WorldStove Pilot Program in the short space of two months. He not only redesigned the stove to be produced with available tools and materials, but he completed a camp survey. The fact that since the quake more children have been forced to take responsibility for cooking made safety a top priority, so Mulcahy developed a Haitian specific pot stand with heat-shield and windscreen to accommodate the wide variety of pots used in Haiti and protect children from burns.

Left: The blue flame indicates that the Haiti Lucia stove is burning cleanly and efficiently. Right: Children have taken on more cooking responsibilities since the earthquake. Photo Credit: World Stove

Local versions of the Lucia stove must be tuned to work with available fuels. Peanut shells need different conditions than rice hulls, for instance. Mulcahy found that Haiti has many waste products that can be made into fuel pellets or used directly, including sugar cane waste, rice hulls, coffee hulls, bamboo, sawdust, coconut shells, mango pits, palm fronds and waste paper.

One of the best moments of Mulcahy’s two months in Haiti was the day he first tuned a locally-built stove to run on the available pellets. That night he was able to cook a plateful of rice, beans and meat sauce for 21 people with only three handfuls of pellets.

Another prize moment occurred when Mulcahy showed up late to a village artisan’s shop only to find the artisan already engaging a crowd of people demonstrating the stove and explaining how the biochar would help restore their soils. The metal workers began to add decorations of trees and birds to the stoves, telling Mulcahy that the pictures represent what will happen if people use the stoves to make biochar – the trees and birds will come back to Haiti.

Nathaniel Mulcahy showing designs that metal workers added to the stove wind screens. The metal workers say that trees and birds will return to Haiti when the soil is rebuilt with biochar. Photo Credit: World Stove

Almost a third of Haiti’s land has lost so much topsoil that it is not possible to grow food crops. As a result, Haiti can no longer feed itself and people have fled to the cities where they were more vulnerable during the earthquake. Biochar can be a critical factor not only in restoring topsoil to Haiti but in revitalizing the rural economy and repopulating the countryside.

In the next phase of the Haiti project, WorldStove will work with United Nations Environmental Programme (UNEP), the World Food Programme (WFP) and the Haitian Government to build stove-manufacturing hubs and create thousands of jobs making pellets and distributing biochar in the rural areas. Preliminary agreements are in place with 48 agricultural cooperatives that will provide crop waste for pellet production. The farmers will receive a proportionate amount of biochar in return to build their soils and increase production.

Mulcahy invites anyone who is interested in learning more about next steps in Haiti to visit the WorldStove website, www.worldstove.com. For updates, you can sign up for the World Stove Twitter feed @WorldStove.

Kelpie Wilson is the communications editor for the International Biochar Initiative, working to promote sustainable biochar as a powerfully simple tool to fight global warming and boost food security.

More on Haiti Earthquake

David Casarett, M.D.: Assisted Suicide: Jack Kevorkian’s Legacy and Where We Stand Today

Jack Kevorkian has become a polarizing figure among health care providers and the public. He’s a litmus test, in a sense, of our opinions about health care in general, and physicians in particular. When the discussion turns to Jack Kevorkian, it’s difficult not to take sides.

And Barry Levinson’s You Don’t Know Jack certainly takes sides. Jack Kevorkian is a hero, we’re told. He’s a savior. He’s the doctor we all wish we had.

You could argue some of these points, of course. For instance, do you really want a doctor whose only contribution to living patients is to kill them? I mean, isn’t this taking medical specialization a little too far?

And there’s Kevorkian’s idea of a dignified death. What’s so dignified about having your life ended in the back of a mobile suicide van? By a man you barely know?

And of course there’s that whole legal thing. You know–murder. Homicide. Our society sort of frowns on that, doesn’t it?

None of these issues gets the attention it deserves in Barry Levinson’s treatment of Kevorkian, but that’s OK. It’s film. It’s entertainment. Levinson doesn’t have an obligation to teach us. Or even to make us think. And he’s entitled to his point of view.

Actually, the problem with this film is not that Barry Levinson doesn’t know Jack. He does. Or at least he has a clear vision of Kevorkian that he’s able to articulate. And Al Pacino is brilliant in giving voice to that vision.

No, the real problem is that the debate around Kevorkian was never really about him. He became a lightning rod, of course. A willing and even eager one, seeking attention and confrontation the way a lightning rod draws electricity to it.

But the issues of assisted suicide and euthanasia actually have very little to do with Jack Kevorkian, or who he is, or what he did. What Kevorkian did was never about those issues, and was only indirectly about his ‘patients.’ The issues that drive the debate that crackled around him are much wider and much more complex. And these issues get shortchanged in Levinson’s treatment.

Much of the attraction that assisted suicide holds for the general public, and for my patients, stems from fear. We’re afraid of suffering, for instance. And we’re afraid of losing our dignity and autonomy. More generally, we’re afraid of losing control of our lives.

And most of us are left to face those fears in the setting of a health care system that doesn’t really care about us. Too often, we die in hospitals that focus on preserving life at the expense of comfort and dignity. And many of us will die in nursing homes that are too understaffed and poorly reimbursed to provide quality care.

These realities don’t find a place in Kevorkian’s worldview. He seems to think that suffering is inevitable, and that a loss of dignity is simply a part of serious illness. Nor are these realities given room in Levinson’s film. In fact, Levinson seems to buy into Kevorkian’s worldview enthusiastically and unquestioningly, endorsing and promoting it as gospel.

But the suffering and loss of dignity that are so central to the Kevorkian/Levinson view of serious illness aren’t inevitable. Although you’d never know it from this film, there are alternatives to Kevorkian’s death machine. And many of those alternatives offer a very different view of what life with a serious illness could be like.

Since Kevorkian pushed his first lethal dose, hospitals have made great strides in integrating palliative care. Palliative care teams offer patients comfort and dignity under difficult circumstances. And, what is most important to many of my patients, these teams offer patients more control over their care, and more autonomy in the choices they make.

And for all of those patients–and that’s most of us–who want to spend our last days at home, hospice has made enormous improvements in the care of people near the end of life. Hospice can promise exactly the sort of comfort and dignity and control that people used to seek in the back of Kevorkian’s death van.

If you don’t believe me, consider the numbers. In his career, it’s estimated that Kevorkian helped about 130 people to die. Compare that with the 1.3 million people who use hospice every year. That’s 1,299,870 people who chose a different path than the one that Kevorkian and Levinson embrace.

I’m not saying that one of those choices is the correct one. But can 1,299,870 people be wrong? Besides, a portrayal of an issue as complicated as assisted suicide that focuses on the choice of such a tiny minority doesn’t do justice to the issues involved.

Still, that was Levinson’s choice and those are his opinions. He’s entitled to hold them, and to share them. Fair enough.

But maybe now Levinson will use his considerable talents to paint a more nuanced picture of the possibilities that are open to people with serious illnesses. I’ll even loan him the title of my book: Last Acts. It would be a film about the choices that we have available to us, and all of the things that we can do even–or especially–when our time is limited. It would be a film about hope and opportunity rather than fear. That’s a film I’d very much like to see.

More on Health Care

David Casarett, M.D.: Assisted Suicide: Jack Kevorkian’s Legacy and Where We Stand Today

Jack Kevorkian has become a polarizing figure among health care providers and the public. He’s a litmus test, in a sense, of our opinions about health care in general, and physicians in particular. When the discussion turns to Jack Kevorkian, it’s difficult not to take sides.

And Barry Levinson’s You Don’t Know Jack certainly takes sides. Jack Kevorkian is a hero, we’re told. He’s a savior. He’s the doctor we all wish we had.

You could argue some of these points, of course. For instance, do you really want a doctor whose only contribution to living patients is to kill them? I mean, isn’t this taking medical specialization a little too far?

And there’s Kevorkian’s idea of a dignified death. What’s so dignified about having your life ended in the back of a mobile suicide van? By a man you barely know?

And of course there’s that whole legal thing. You know–murder. Homicide. Our society sort of frowns on that, doesn’t it?

None of these issues gets the attention it deserves in Barry Levinson’s treatment of Kevorkian, but that’s OK. It’s film. It’s entertainment. Levinson doesn’t have an obligation to teach us. Or even to make us think. And he’s entitled to his point of view.

Actually, the problem with this film is not that Barry Levinson doesn’t know Jack. He does. Or at least he has a clear vision of Kevorkian that he’s able to articulate. And Al Pacino is brilliant in giving voice to that vision.

No, the real problem is that the debate around Kevorkian was never really about him. He became a lightning rod, of course. A willing and even eager one, seeking attention and confrontation the way a lightning rod draws electricity to it.

But the issues of assisted suicide and euthanasia actually have very little to do with Jack Kevorkian, or who he is, or what he did. What Kevorkian did was never about those issues, and was only indirectly about his ‘patients.’ The issues that drive the debate that crackled around him are much wider and much more complex. And these issues get shortchanged in Levinson’s treatment.

Much of the attraction that assisted suicide holds for the general public, and for my patients, stems from fear. We’re afraid of suffering, for instance. And we’re afraid of losing our dignity and autonomy. More generally, we’re afraid of losing control of our lives.

And most of us are left to face those fears in the setting of a health care system that doesn’t really care about us. Too often, we die in hospitals that focus on preserving life at the expense of comfort and dignity. And many of us will die in nursing homes that are too understaffed and poorly reimbursed to provide quality care.

These realities don’t find a place in Kevorkian’s worldview. He seems to think that suffering is inevitable, and that a loss of dignity is simply a part of serious illness. Nor are these realities given room in Levinson’s film. In fact, Levinson seems to buy into Kevorkian’s worldview enthusiastically and unquestioningly, endorsing and promoting it as gospel.

But the suffering and loss of dignity that are so central to the Kevorkian/Levinson view of serious illness aren’t inevitable. Although you’d never know it from this film, there are alternatives to Kevorkian’s death machine. And many of those alternatives offer a very different view of what life with a serious illness could be like.

Since Kevorkian pushed his first lethal dose, hospitals have made great strides in integrating palliative care. Palliative care teams offer patients comfort and dignity under difficult circumstances. And, what is most important to many of my patients, these teams offer patients more control over their care, and more autonomy in the choices they make.

And for all of those patients–and that’s most of us–who want to spend our last days at home, hospice has made enormous improvements in the care of people near the end of life. Hospice can promise exactly the sort of comfort and dignity and control that people used to seek in the back of Kevorkian’s death van.

If you don’t believe me, consider the numbers. In his career, it’s estimated that Kevorkian helped about 130 people to die. Compare that with the 1.3 million people who use hospice every year. That’s 1,299,870 people who chose a different path than the one that Kevorkian and Levinson embrace.

I’m not saying that one of those choices is the correct one. But can 1,299,870 people be wrong? Besides, a portrayal of an issue as complicated as assisted suicide that focuses on the choice of such a tiny minority doesn’t do justice to the issues involved.

Still, that was Levinson’s choice and those are his opinions. He’s entitled to hold them, and to share them. Fair enough.

But maybe now Levinson will use his considerable talents to paint a more nuanced picture of the possibilities that are open to people with serious illnesses. I’ll even loan him the title of my book: Last Acts. It would be a film about the choices that we have available to us, and all of the things that we can do even–or especially–when our time is limited. It would be a film about hope and opportunity rather than fear. That’s a film I’d very much like to see.

More on Health Care

David Casarett, M.D.: Assisted Suicide: Jack Kevorkian’s Legacy and Where We Stand Today

Jack Kevorkian has become a polarizing figure among health care providers and the public. He’s a litmus test, in a sense, of our opinions about health care in general, and physicians in particular. When the discussion turns to Jack Kevorkian, it’s difficult not to take sides.

And Barry Levinson’s You Don’t Know Jack certainly takes sides. Jack Kevorkian is a hero, we’re told. He’s a savior. He’s the doctor we all wish we had.

You could argue some of these points, of course. For instance, do you really want a doctor whose only contribution to living patients is to kill them? I mean, isn’t this taking medical specialization a little too far?

And there’s Kevorkian’s idea of a dignified death. What’s so dignified about having your life ended in the back of a mobile suicide van? By a man you barely know?

And of course there’s that whole legal thing. You know–murder. Homicide. Our society sort of frowns on that, doesn’t it?

None of these issues gets the attention it deserves in Barry Levinson’s treatment of Kevorkian, but that’s OK. It’s film. It’s entertainment. Levinson doesn’t have an obligation to teach us. Or even to make us think. And he’s entitled to his point of view.

Actually, the problem with this film is not that Barry Levinson doesn’t know Jack. He does. Or at least he has a clear vision of Kevorkian that he’s able to articulate. And Al Pacino is brilliant in giving voice to that vision.

No, the real problem is that the debate around Kevorkian was never really about him. He became a lightning rod, of course. A willing and even eager one, seeking attention and confrontation the way a lightning rod draws electricity to it.

But the issues of assisted suicide and euthanasia actually have very little to do with Jack Kevorkian, or who he is, or what he did. What Kevorkian did was never about those issues, and was only indirectly about his ‘patients.’ The issues that drive the debate that crackled around him are much wider and much more complex. And these issues get shortchanged in Levinson’s treatment.

Much of the attraction that assisted suicide holds for the general public, and for my patients, stems from fear. We’re afraid of suffering, for instance. And we’re afraid of losing our dignity and autonomy. More generally, we’re afraid of losing control of our lives.

And most of us are left to face those fears in the setting of a health care system that doesn’t really care about us. Too often, we die in hospitals that focus on preserving life at the expense of comfort and dignity. And many of us will die in nursing homes that are too understaffed and poorly reimbursed to provide quality care.

These realities don’t find a place in Kevorkian’s worldview. He seems to think that suffering is inevitable, and that a loss of dignity is simply a part of serious illness. Nor are these realities given room in Levinson’s film. In fact, Levinson seems to buy into Kevorkian’s worldview enthusiastically and unquestioningly, endorsing and promoting it as gospel.

But the suffering and loss of dignity that are so central to the Kevorkian/Levinson view of serious illness aren’t inevitable. Although you’d never know it from this film, there are alternatives to Kevorkian’s death machine. And many of those alternatives offer a very different view of what life with a serious illness could be like.

Since Kevorkian pushed his first lethal dose, hospitals have made great strides in integrating palliative care. Palliative care teams offer patients comfort and dignity under difficult circumstances. And, what is most important to many of my patients, these teams offer patients more control over their care, and more autonomy in the choices they make.

And for all of those patients–and that’s most of us–who want to spend our last days at home, hospice has made enormous improvements in the care of people near the end of life. Hospice can promise exactly the sort of comfort and dignity and control that people used to seek in the back of Kevorkian’s death van.

If you don’t believe me, consider the numbers. In his career, it’s estimated that Kevorkian helped about 130 people to die. Compare that with the 1.3 million people who use hospice every year. That’s 1,299,870 people who chose a different path than the one that Kevorkian and Levinson embrace.

I’m not saying that one of those choices is the correct one. But can 1,299,870 people be wrong? Besides, a portrayal of an issue as complicated as assisted suicide that focuses on the choice of such a tiny minority doesn’t do justice to the issues involved.

Still, that was Levinson’s choice and those are his opinions. He’s entitled to hold them, and to share them. Fair enough.

But maybe now Levinson will use his considerable talents to paint a more nuanced picture of the possibilities that are open to people with serious illnesses. I’ll even loan him the title of my book: Last Acts. It would be a film about the choices that we have available to us, and all of the things that we can do even–or especially–when our time is limited. It would be a film about hope and opportunity rather than fear. That’s a film I’d very much like to see.

More on Health Care

David Casarett, M.D.: Assisted Suicide: Jack Kevorkian’s Legacy and Where We Stand Today

Jack Kevorkian has become a polarizing figure among health care providers and the public. He’s a litmus test, in a sense, of our opinions about health care in general, and physicians in particular. When the discussion turns to Jack Kevorkian, it’s difficult not to take sides.

And Barry Levinson’s You Don’t Know Jack certainly takes sides. Jack Kevorkian is a hero, we’re told. He’s a savior. He’s the doctor we all wish we had.

You could argue some of these points, of course. For instance, do you really want a doctor whose only contribution to living patients is to kill them? I mean, isn’t this taking medical specialization a little too far?

And there’s Kevorkian’s idea of a dignified death. What’s so dignified about having your life ended in the back of a mobile suicide van? By a man you barely know?

And of course there’s that whole legal thing. You know–murder. Homicide. Our society sort of frowns on that, doesn’t it?

None of these issues gets the attention it deserves in Barry Levinson’s treatment of Kevorkian, but that’s OK. It’s film. It’s entertainment. Levinson doesn’t have an obligation to teach us. Or even to make us think. And he’s entitled to his point of view.

Actually, the problem with this film is not that Barry Levinson doesn’t know Jack. He does. Or at least he has a clear vision of Kevorkian that he’s able to articulate. And Al Pacino is brilliant in giving voice to that vision.

No, the real problem is that the debate around Kevorkian was never really about him. He became a lightning rod, of course. A willing and even eager one, seeking attention and confrontation the way a lightning rod draws electricity to it.

But the issues of assisted suicide and euthanasia actually have very little to do with Jack Kevorkian, or who he is, or what he did. What Kevorkian did was never about those issues, and was only indirectly about his ‘patients.’ The issues that drive the debate that crackled around him are much wider and much more complex. And these issues get shortchanged in Levinson’s treatment.

Much of the attraction that assisted suicide holds for the general public, and for my patients, stems from fear. We’re afraid of suffering, for instance. And we’re afraid of losing our dignity and autonomy. More generally, we’re afraid of losing control of our lives.

And most of us are left to face those fears in the setting of a health care system that doesn’t really care about us. Too often, we die in hospitals that focus on preserving life at the expense of comfort and dignity. And many of us will die in nursing homes that are too understaffed and poorly reimbursed to provide quality care.

These realities don’t find a place in Kevorkian’s worldview. He seems to think that suffering is inevitable, and that a loss of dignity is simply a part of serious illness. Nor are these realities given room in Levinson’s film. In fact, Levinson seems to buy into Kevorkian’s worldview enthusiastically and unquestioningly, endorsing and promoting it as gospel.

But the suffering and loss of dignity that are so central to the Kevorkian/Levinson view of serious illness aren’t inevitable. Although you’d never know it from this film, there are alternatives to Kevorkian’s death machine. And many of those alternatives offer a very different view of what life with a serious illness could be like.

Since Kevorkian pushed his first lethal dose, hospitals have made great strides in integrating palliative care. Palliative care teams offer patients comfort and dignity under difficult circumstances. And, what is most important to many of my patients, these teams offer patients more control over their care, and more autonomy in the choices they make.

And for all of those patients–and that’s most of us–who want to spend our last days at home, hospice has made enormous improvements in the care of people near the end of life. Hospice can promise exactly the sort of comfort and dignity and control that people used to seek in the back of Kevorkian’s death van.

If you don’t believe me, consider the numbers. In his career, it’s estimated that Kevorkian helped about 130 people to die. Compare that with the 1.3 million people who use hospice every year. That’s 1,299,870 people who chose a different path than the one that Kevorkian and Levinson embrace.

I’m not saying that one of those choices is the correct one. But can 1,299,870 people be wrong? Besides, a portrayal of an issue as complicated as assisted suicide that focuses on the choice of such a tiny minority doesn’t do justice to the issues involved.

Still, that was Levinson’s choice and those are his opinions. He’s entitled to hold them, and to share them. Fair enough.

But maybe now Levinson will use his considerable talents to paint a more nuanced picture of the possibilities that are open to people with serious illnesses. I’ll even loan him the title of my book: Last Acts. It would be a film about the choices that we have available to us, and all of the things that we can do even–or especially–when our time is limited. It would be a film about hope and opportunity rather than fear. That’s a film I’d very much like to see.

More on Health Care

David Casarett, M.D.: Assisted Suicide: Jack Kevorkian’s Legacy and Where We Stand Today

Jack Kevorkian has become a polarizing figure among health care providers and the public. He’s a litmus test, in a sense, of our opinions about health care in general, and physicians in particular. When the discussion turns to Jack Kevorkian, it’s difficult not to take sides.

And Barry Levinson’s You Don’t Know Jack certainly takes sides. Jack Kevorkian is a hero, we’re told. He’s a savior. He’s the doctor we all wish we had.

You could argue some of these points, of course. For instance, do you really want a doctor whose only contribution to living patients is to kill them? I mean, isn’t this taking medical specialization a little too far?

And there’s Kevorkian’s idea of a dignified death. What’s so dignified about having your life ended in the back of a mobile suicide van? By a man you barely know?

And of course there’s that whole legal thing. You know–murder. Homicide. Our society sort of frowns on that, doesn’t it?

None of these issues gets the attention it deserves in Barry Levinson’s treatment of Kevorkian, but that’s OK. It’s film. It’s entertainment. Levinson doesn’t have an obligation to teach us. Or even to make us think. And he’s entitled to his point of view.

Actually, the problem with this film is not that Barry Levinson doesn’t know Jack. He does. Or at least he has a clear vision of Kevorkian that he’s able to articulate. And Al Pacino is brilliant in giving voice to that vision.

No, the real problem is that the debate around Kevorkian was never really about him. He became a lightning rod, of course. A willing and even eager one, seeking attention and confrontation the way a lightning rod draws electricity to it.

But the issues of assisted suicide and euthanasia actually have very little to do with Jack Kevorkian, or who he is, or what he did. What Kevorkian did was never about those issues, and was only indirectly about his ‘patients.’ The issues that drive the debate that crackled around him are much wider and much more complex. And these issues get shortchanged in Levinson’s treatment.

Much of the attraction that assisted suicide holds for the general public, and for my patients, stems from fear. We’re afraid of suffering, for instance. And we’re afraid of losing our dignity and autonomy. More generally, we’re afraid of losing control of our lives.

And most of us are left to face those fears in the setting of a health care system that doesn’t really care about us. Too often, we die in hospitals that focus on preserving life at the expense of comfort and dignity. And many of us will die in nursing homes that are too understaffed and poorly reimbursed to provide quality care.

These realities don’t find a place in Kevorkian’s worldview. He seems to think that suffering is inevitable, and that a loss of dignity is simply a part of serious illness. Nor are these realities given room in Levinson’s film. In fact, Levinson seems to buy into Kevorkian’s worldview enthusiastically and unquestioningly, endorsing and promoting it as gospel.

But the suffering and loss of dignity that are so central to the Kevorkian/Levinson view of serious illness aren’t inevitable. Although you’d never know it from this film, there are alternatives to Kevorkian’s death machine. And many of those alternatives offer a very different view of what life with a serious illness could be like.

Since Kevorkian pushed his first lethal dose, hospitals have made great strides in integrating palliative care. Palliative care teams offer patients comfort and dignity under difficult circumstances. And, what is most important to many of my patients, these teams offer patients more control over their care, and more autonomy in the choices they make.

And for all of those patients–and that’s most of us–who want to spend our last days at home, hospice has made enormous improvements in the care of people near the end of life. Hospice can promise exactly the sort of comfort and dignity and control that people used to seek in the back of Kevorkian’s death van.

If you don’t believe me, consider the numbers. In his career, it’s estimated that Kevorkian helped about 130 people to die. Compare that with the 1.3 million people who use hospice every year. That’s 1,299,870 people who chose a different path than the one that Kevorkian and Levinson embrace.

I’m not saying that one of those choices is the correct one. But can 1,299,870 people be wrong? Besides, a portrayal of an issue as complicated as assisted suicide that focuses on the choice of such a tiny minority doesn’t do justice to the issues involved.

Still, that was Levinson’s choice and those are his opinions. He’s entitled to hold them, and to share them. Fair enough.

But maybe now Levinson will use his considerable talents to paint a more nuanced picture of the possibilities that are open to people with serious illnesses. I’ll even loan him the title of my book: Last Acts. It would be a film about the choices that we have available to us, and all of the things that we can do even–or especially–when our time is limited. It would be a film about hope and opportunity rather than fear. That’s a film I’d very much like to see.

More on Health Care

David Casarett, M.D.: Assisted Suicide: Jack Kevorkian’s Legacy and Where We Stand Today

Jack Kevorkian has become a polarizing figure among health care providers and the public. He’s a litmus test, in a sense, of our opinions about health care in general, and physicians in particular. When the discussion turns to Jack Kevorkian, it’s difficult not to take sides.

And Barry Levinson’s You Don’t Know Jack certainly takes sides. Jack Kevorkian is a hero, we’re told. He’s a savior. He’s the doctor we all wish we had.

You could argue some of these points, of course. For instance, do you really want a doctor whose only contribution to living patients is to kill them? I mean, isn’t this taking medical specialization a little too far?

And there’s Kevorkian’s idea of a dignified death. What’s so dignified about having your life ended in the back of a mobile suicide van? By a man you barely know?

And of course there’s that whole legal thing. You know–murder. Homicide. Our society sort of frowns on that, doesn’t it?

None of these issues gets the attention it deserves in Barry Levinson’s treatment of Kevorkian, but that’s OK. It’s film. It’s entertainment. Levinson doesn’t have an obligation to teach us. Or even to make us think. And he’s entitled to his point of view.

Actually, the problem with this film is not that Barry Levinson doesn’t know Jack. He does. Or at least he has a clear vision of Kevorkian that he’s able to articulate. And Al Pacino is brilliant in giving voice to that vision.

No, the real problem is that the debate around Kevorkian was never really about him. He became a lightning rod, of course. A willing and even eager one, seeking attention and confrontation the way a lightning rod draws electricity to it.

But the issues of assisted suicide and euthanasia actually have very little to do with Jack Kevorkian, or who he is, or what he did. What Kevorkian did was never about those issues, and was only indirectly about his ‘patients.’ The issues that drive the debate that crackled around him are much wider and much more complex. And these issues get shortchanged in Levinson’s treatment.

Much of the attraction that assisted suicide holds for the general public, and for my patients, stems from fear. We’re afraid of suffering, for instance. And we’re afraid of losing our dignity and autonomy. More generally, we’re afraid of losing control of our lives.

And most of us are left to face those fears in the setting of a health care system that doesn’t really care about us. Too often, we die in hospitals that focus on preserving life at the expense of comfort and dignity. And many of us will die in nursing homes that are too understaffed and poorly reimbursed to provide quality care.

These realities don’t find a place in Kevorkian’s worldview. He seems to think that suffering is inevitable, and that a loss of dignity is simply a part of serious illness. Nor are these realities given room in Levinson’s film. In fact, Levinson seems to buy into Kevorkian’s worldview enthusiastically and unquestioningly, endorsing and promoting it as gospel.

But the suffering and loss of dignity that are so central to the Kevorkian/Levinson view of serious illness aren’t inevitable. Although you’d never know it from this film, there are alternatives to Kevorkian’s death machine. And many of those alternatives offer a very different view of what life with a serious illness could be like.

Since Kevorkian pushed his first lethal dose, hospitals have made great strides in integrating palliative care. Palliative care teams offer patients comfort and dignity under difficult circumstances. And, what is most important to many of my patients, these teams offer patients more control over their care, and more autonomy in the choices they make.

And for all of those patients–and that’s most of us–who want to spend our last days at home, hospice has made enormous improvements in the care of people near the end of life. Hospice can promise exactly the sort of comfort and dignity and control that people used to seek in the back of Kevorkian’s death van.

If you don’t believe me, consider the numbers. In his career, it’s estimated that Kevorkian helped about 130 people to die. Compare that with the 1.3 million people who use hospice every year. That’s 1,299,870 people who chose a different path than the one that Kevorkian and Levinson embrace.

I’m not saying that one of those choices is the correct one. But can 1,299,870 people be wrong? Besides, a portrayal of an issue as complicated as assisted suicide that focuses on the choice of such a tiny minority doesn’t do justice to the issues involved.

Still, that was Levinson’s choice and those are his opinions. He’s entitled to hold them, and to share them. Fair enough.

But maybe now Levinson will use his considerable talents to paint a more nuanced picture of the possibilities that are open to people with serious illnesses. I’ll even loan him the title of my book: Last Acts. It would be a film about the choices that we have available to us, and all of the things that we can do even–or especially–when our time is limited. It would be a film about hope and opportunity rather than fear. That’s a film I’d very much like to see.

More on Health Care

David Casarett, M.D.: Assisted Suicide: Jack Kevorkian’s Legacy and Where We Stand Today

Jack Kevorkian has become a polarizing figure among health care providers and the public. He’s a litmus test, in a sense, of our opinions about health care in general, and physicians in particular. When the discussion turns to Jack Kevorkian, it’s difficult not to take sides.

And Barry Levinson’s You Don’t Know Jack certainly takes sides. Jack Kevorkian is a hero, we’re told. He’s a savior. He’s the doctor we all wish we had.

You could argue some of these points, of course. For instance, do you really want a doctor whose only contribution to living patients is to kill them? I mean, isn’t this taking medical specialization a little too far?

And there’s Kevorkian’s idea of a dignified death. What’s so dignified about having your life ended in the back of a mobile suicide van? By a man you barely know?

And of course there’s that whole legal thing. You know–murder. Homicide. Our society sort of frowns on that, doesn’t it?

None of these issues gets the attention it deserves in Barry Levinson’s treatment of Kevorkian, but that’s OK. It’s film. It’s entertainment. Levinson doesn’t have an obligation to teach us. Or even to make us think. And he’s entitled to his point of view.

Actually, the problem with this film is not that Barry Levinson doesn’t know Jack. He does. Or at least he has a clear vision of Kevorkian that he’s able to articulate. And Al Pacino is brilliant in giving voice to that vision.

No, the real problem is that the debate around Kevorkian was never really about him. He became a lightning rod, of course. A willing and even eager one, seeking attention and confrontation the way a lightning rod draws electricity to it.

But the issues of assisted suicide and euthanasia actually have very little to do with Jack Kevorkian, or who he is, or what he did. What Kevorkian did was never about those issues, and was only indirectly about his ‘patients.’ The issues that drive the debate that crackled around him are much wider and much more complex. And these issues get shortchanged in Levinson’s treatment.

Much of the attraction that assisted suicide holds for the general public, and for my patients, stems from fear. We’re afraid of suffering, for instance. And we’re afraid of losing our dignity and autonomy. More generally, we’re afraid of losing control of our lives.

And most of us are left to face those fears in the setting of a health care system that doesn’t really care about us. Too often, we die in hospitals that focus on preserving life at the expense of comfort and dignity. And many of us will die in nursing homes that are too understaffed and poorly reimbursed to provide quality care.

These realities don’t find a place in Kevorkian’s worldview. He seems to think that suffering is inevitable, and that a loss of dignity is simply a part of serious illness. Nor are these realities given room in Levinson’s film. In fact, Levinson seems to buy into Kevorkian’s worldview enthusiastically and unquestioningly, endorsing and promoting it as gospel.

But the suffering and loss of dignity that are so central to the Kevorkian/Levinson view of serious illness aren’t inevitable. Although you’d never know it from this film, there are alternatives to Kevorkian’s death machine. And many of those alternatives offer a very different view of what life with a serious illness could be like.

Since Kevorkian pushed his first lethal dose, hospitals have made great strides in integrating palliative care. Palliative care teams offer patients comfort and dignity under difficult circumstances. And, what is most important to many of my patients, these teams offer patients more control over their care, and more autonomy in the choices they make.

And for all of those patients–and that’s most of us–who want to spend our last days at home, hospice has made enormous improvements in the care of people near the end of life. Hospice can promise exactly the sort of comfort and dignity and control that people used to seek in the back of Kevorkian’s death van.

If you don’t believe me, consider the numbers. In his career, it’s estimated that Kevorkian helped about 130 people to die. Compare that with the 1.3 million people who use hospice every year. That’s 1,299,870 people who chose a different path than the one that Kevorkian and Levinson embrace.

I’m not saying that one of those choices is the correct one. But can 1,299,870 people be wrong? Besides, a portrayal of an issue as complicated as assisted suicide that focuses on the choice of such a tiny minority doesn’t do justice to the issues involved.

Still, that was Levinson’s choice and those are his opinions. He’s entitled to hold them, and to share them. Fair enough.

But maybe now Levinson will use his considerable talents to paint a more nuanced picture of the possibilities that are open to people with serious illnesses. I’ll even loan him the title of my book: Last Acts. It would be a film about the choices that we have available to us, and all of the things that we can do even–or especially–when our time is limited. It would be a film about hope and opportunity rather than fear. That’s a film I’d very much like to see.

More on Health Care

David Casarett, M.D.: Assisted Suicide: Jack Kevorkian’s Legacy and Where We Stand Today

Jack Kevorkian has become a polarizing figure among health care providers and the public. He’s a litmus test, in a sense, of our opinions about health care in general, and physicians in particular. When the discussion turns to Jack Kevorkian, it’s difficult not to take sides.

And Barry Levinson’s You Don’t Know Jack certainly takes sides. Jack Kevorkian is a hero, we’re told. He’s a savior. He’s the doctor we all wish we had.

You could argue some of these points, of course. For instance, do you really want a doctor whose only contribution to living patients is to kill them? I mean, isn’t this taking medical specialization a little too far?

And there’s Kevorkian’s idea of a dignified death. What’s so dignified about having your life ended in the back of a mobile suicide van? By a man you barely know?

And of course there’s that whole legal thing. You know–murder. Homicide. Our society sort of frowns on that, doesn’t it?

None of these issues gets the attention it deserves in Barry Levinson’s treatment of Kevorkian, but that’s OK. It’s film. It’s entertainment. Levinson doesn’t have an obligation to teach us. Or even to make us think. And he’s entitled to his point of view.

Actually, the problem with this film is not that Barry Levinson doesn’t know Jack. He does. Or at least he has a clear vision of Kevorkian that he’s able to articulate. And Al Pacino is brilliant in giving voice to that vision.

No, the real problem is that the debate around Kevorkian was never really about him. He became a lightning rod, of course. A willing and even eager one, seeking attention and confrontation the way a lightning rod draws electricity to it.

But the issues of assisted suicide and euthanasia actually have very little to do with Jack Kevorkian, or who he is, or what he did. What Kevorkian did was never about those issues, and was only indirectly about his ‘patients.’ The issues that drive the debate that crackled around him are much wider and much more complex. And these issues get shortchanged in Levinson’s treatment.

Much of the attraction that assisted suicide holds for the general public, and for my patients, stems from fear. We’re afraid of suffering, for instance. And we’re afraid of losing our dignity and autonomy. More generally, we’re afraid of losing control of our lives.

And most of us are left to face those fears in the setting of a health care system that doesn’t really care about us. Too often, we die in hospitals that focus on preserving life at the expense of comfort and dignity. And many of us will die in nursing homes that are too understaffed and poorly reimbursed to provide quality care.

These realities don’t find a place in Kevorkian’s worldview. He seems to think that suffering is inevitable, and that a loss of dignity is simply a part of serious illness. Nor are these realities given room in Levinson’s film. In fact, Levinson seems to buy into Kevorkian’s worldview enthusiastically and unquestioningly, endorsing and promoting it as gospel.

But the suffering and loss of dignity that are so central to the Kevorkian/Levinson view of serious illness aren’t inevitable. Although you’d never know it from this film, there are alternatives to Kevorkian’s death machine. And many of those alternatives offer a very different view of what life with a serious illness could be like.

Since Kevorkian pushed his first lethal dose, hospitals have made great strides in integrating palliative care. Palliative care teams offer patients comfort and dignity under difficult circumstances. And, what is most important to many of my patients, these teams offer patients more control over their care, and more autonomy in the choices they make.

And for all of those patients–and that’s most of us–who want to spend our last days at home, hospice has made enormous improvements in the care of people near the end of life. Hospice can promise exactly the sort of comfort and dignity and control that people used to seek in the back of Kevorkian’s death van.

If you don’t believe me, consider the numbers. In his career, it’s estimated that Kevorkian helped about 130 people to die. Compare that with the 1.3 million people who use hospice every year. That’s 1,299,870 people who chose a different path than the one that Kevorkian and Levinson embrace.

I’m not saying that one of those choices is the correct one. But can 1,299,870 people be wrong? Besides, a portrayal of an issue as complicated as assisted suicide that focuses on the choice of such a tiny minority doesn’t do justice to the issues involved.

Still, that was Levinson’s choice and those are his opinions. He’s entitled to hold them, and to share them. Fair enough.

But maybe now Levinson will use his considerable talents to paint a more nuanced picture of the possibilities that are open to people with serious illnesses. I’ll even loan him the title of my book: Last Acts. It would be a film about the choices that we have available to us, and all of the things that we can do even–or especially–when our time is limited. It would be a film about hope and opportunity rather than fear. That’s a film I’d very much like to see.

More on Health Care

David Casarett, M.D.: Assisted Suicide: Jack Kevorkian’s Legacy and Where We Stand Today

Jack Kevorkian has become a polarizing figure among health care providers and the public. He’s a litmus test, in a sense, of our opinions about health care in general, and physicians in particular. When the discussion turns to Jack Kevorkian, it’s difficult not to take sides.

And Barry Levinson’s You Don’t Know Jack certainly takes sides. Jack Kevorkian is a hero, we’re told. He’s a savior. He’s the doctor we all wish we had.

You could argue some of these points, of course. For instance, do you really want a doctor whose only contribution to living patients is to kill them? I mean, isn’t this taking medical specialization a little too far?

And there’s Kevorkian’s idea of a dignified death. What’s so dignified about having your life ended in the back of a mobile suicide van? By a man you barely know?

And of course there’s that whole legal thing. You know–murder. Homicide. Our society sort of frowns on that, doesn’t it?

None of these issues gets the attention it deserves in Barry Levinson’s treatment of Kevorkian, but that’s OK. It’s film. It’s entertainment. Levinson doesn’t have an obligation to teach us. Or even to make us think. And he’s entitled to his point of view.

Actually, the problem with this film is not that Barry Levinson doesn’t know Jack. He does. Or at least he has a clear vision of Kevorkian that he’s able to articulate. And Al Pacino is brilliant in giving voice to that vision.

No, the real problem is that the debate around Kevorkian was never really about him. He became a lightning rod, of course. A willing and even eager one, seeking attention and confrontation the way a lightning rod draws electricity to it.

But the issues of assisted suicide and euthanasia actually have very little to do with Jack Kevorkian, or who he is, or what he did. What Kevorkian did was never about those issues, and was only indirectly about his ‘patients.’ The issues that drive the debate that crackled around him are much wider and much more complex. And these issues get shortchanged in Levinson’s treatment.

Much of the attraction that assisted suicide holds for the general public, and for my patients, stems from fear. We’re afraid of suffering, for instance. And we’re afraid of losing our dignity and autonomy. More generally, we’re afraid of losing control of our lives.

And most of us are left to face those fears in the setting of a health care system that doesn’t really care about us. Too often, we die in hospitals that focus on preserving life at the expense of comfort and dignity. And many of us will die in nursing homes that are too understaffed and poorly reimbursed to provide quality care.

These realities don’t find a place in Kevorkian’s worldview. He seems to think that suffering is inevitable, and that a loss of dignity is simply a part of serious illness. Nor are these realities given room in Levinson’s film. In fact, Levinson seems to buy into Kevorkian’s worldview enthusiastically and unquestioningly, endorsing and promoting it as gospel.

But the suffering and loss of dignity that are so central to the Kevorkian/Levinson view of serious illness aren’t inevitable. Although you’d never know it from this film, there are alternatives to Kevorkian’s death machine. And many of those alternatives offer a very different view of what life with a serious illness could be like.

Since Kevorkian pushed his first lethal dose, hospitals have made great strides in integrating palliative care. Palliative care teams offer patients comfort and dignity under difficult circumstances. And, what is most important to many of my patients, these teams offer patients more control over their care, and more autonomy in the choices they make.

And for all of those patients–and that’s most of us–who want to spend our last days at home, hospice has made enormous improvements in the care of people near the end of life. Hospice can promise exactly the sort of comfort and dignity and control that people used to seek in the back of Kevorkian’s death van.

If you don’t believe me, consider the numbers. In his career, it’s estimated that Kevorkian helped about 130 people to die. Compare that with the 1.3 million people who use hospice every year. That’s 1,299,870 people who chose a different path than the one that Kevorkian and Levinson embrace.

I’m not saying that one of those choices is the correct one. But can 1,299,870 people be wrong? Besides, a portrayal of an issue as complicated as assisted suicide that focuses on the choice of such a tiny minority doesn’t do justice to the issues involved.

Still, that was Levinson’s choice and those are his opinions. He’s entitled to hold them, and to share them. Fair enough.

But maybe now Levinson will use his considerable talents to paint a more nuanced picture of the possibilities that are open to people with serious illnesses. I’ll even loan him the title of my book: Last Acts. It would be a film about the choices that we have available to us, and all of the things that we can do even–or especially–when our time is limited. It would be a film about hope and opportunity rather than fear. That’s a film I’d very much like to see.

More on Health Care

David Casarett, M.D.: Assisted Suicide: Jack Kevorkian’s Legacy and Where We Stand Today

Jack Kevorkian has become a polarizing figure among health care providers and the public. He’s a litmus test, in a sense, of our opinions about health care in general, and physicians in particular. When the discussion turns to Jack Kevorkian, it’s difficult not to take sides.

And Barry Levinson’s You Don’t Know Jack certainly takes sides. Jack Kevorkian is a hero, we’re told. He’s a savior. He’s the doctor we all wish we had.

You could argue some of these points, of course. For instance, do you really want a doctor whose only contribution to living patients is to kill them? I mean, isn’t this taking medical specialization a little too far?

And there’s Kevorkian’s idea of a dignified death. What’s so dignified about having your life ended in the back of a mobile suicide van? By a man you barely know?

And of course there’s that whole legal thing. You know–murder. Homicide. Our society sort of frowns on that, doesn’t it?

None of these issues gets the attention it deserves in Barry Levinson’s treatment of Kevorkian, but that’s OK. It’s film. It’s entertainment. Levinson doesn’t have an obligation to teach us. Or even to make us think. And he’s entitled to his point of view.

Actually, the problem with this film is not that Barry Levinson doesn’t know Jack. He does. Or at least he has a clear vision of Kevorkian that he’s able to articulate. And Al Pacino is brilliant in giving voice to that vision.

No, the real problem is that the debate around Kevorkian was never really about him. He became a lightning rod, of course. A willing and even eager one, seeking attention and confrontation the way a lightning rod draws electricity to it.

But the issues of assisted suicide and euthanasia actually have very little to do with Jack Kevorkian, or who he is, or what he did. What Kevorkian did was never about those issues, and was only indirectly about his ‘patients.’ The issues that drive the debate that crackled around him are much wider and much more complex. And these issues get shortchanged in Levinson’s treatment.

Much of the attraction that assisted suicide holds for the general public, and for my patients, stems from fear. We’re afraid of suffering, for instance. And we’re afraid of losing our dignity and autonomy. More generally, we’re afraid of losing control of our lives.

And most of us are left to face those fears in the setting of a health care system that doesn’t really care about us. Too often, we die in hospitals that focus on preserving life at the expense of comfort and dignity. And many of us will die in nursing homes that are too understaffed and poorly reimbursed to provide quality care.

These realities don’t find a place in Kevorkian’s worldview. He seems to think that suffering is inevitable, and that a loss of dignity is simply a part of serious illness. Nor are these realities given room in Levinson’s film. In fact, Levinson seems to buy into Kevorkian’s worldview enthusiastically and unquestioningly, endorsing and promoting it as gospel.

But the suffering and loss of dignity that are so central to the Kevorkian/Levinson view of serious illness aren’t inevitable. Although you’d never know it from this film, there are alternatives to Kevorkian’s death machine. And many of those alternatives offer a very different view of what life with a serious illness could be like.

Since Kevorkian pushed his first lethal dose, hospitals have made great strides in integrating palliative care. Palliative care teams offer patients comfort and dignity under difficult circumstances. And, what is most important to many of my patients, these teams offer patients more control over their care, and more autonomy in the choices they make.

And for all of those patients–and that’s most of us–who want to spend our last days at home, hospice has made enormous improvements in the care of people near the end of life. Hospice can promise exactly the sort of comfort and dignity and control that people used to seek in the back of Kevorkian’s death van.

If you don’t believe me, consider the numbers. In his career, it’s estimated that Kevorkian helped about 130 people to die. Compare that with the 1.3 million people who use hospice every year. That’s 1,299,870 people who chose a different path than the one that Kevorkian and Levinson embrace.

I’m not saying that one of those choices is the correct one. But can 1,299,870 people be wrong? Besides, a portrayal of an issue as complicated as assisted suicide that focuses on the choice of such a tiny minority doesn’t do justice to the issues involved.

Still, that was Levinson’s choice and those are his opinions. He’s entitled to hold them, and to share them. Fair enough.

But maybe now Levinson will use his considerable talents to paint a more nuanced picture of the possibilities that are open to people with serious illnesses. I’ll even loan him the title of my book: Last Acts. It would be a film about the choices that we have available to us, and all of the things that we can do even–or especially–when our time is limited. It would be a film about hope and opportunity rather than fear. That’s a film I’d very much like to see.

More on Health Care

David Casarett, M.D.: Assisted Suicide: Jack Kevorkian’s Legacy and Where We Stand Today

Jack Kevorkian has become a polarizing figure among health care providers and the public. He’s a litmus test, in a sense, of our opinions about health care in general, and physicians in particular. When the discussion turns to Jack Kevorkian, it’s difficult not to take sides.

And Barry Levinson’s You Don’t Know Jack certainly takes sides. Jack Kevorkian is a hero, we’re told. He’s a savior. He’s the doctor we all wish we had.

You could argue some of these points, of course. For instance, do you really want a doctor whose only contribution to living patients is to kill them? I mean, isn’t this taking medical specialization a little too far?

And there’s Kevorkian’s idea of a dignified death. What’s so dignified about having your life ended in the back of a mobile suicide van? By a man you barely know?

And of course there’s that whole legal thing. You know–murder. Homicide. Our society sort of frowns on that, doesn’t it?

None of these issues gets the attention it deserves in Barry Levinson’s treatment of Kevorkian, but that’s OK. It’s film. It’s entertainment. Levinson doesn’t have an obligation to teach us. Or even to make us think. And he’s entitled to his point of view.

Actually, the problem with this film is not that Barry Levinson doesn’t know Jack. He does. Or at least he has a clear vision of Kevorkian that he’s able to articulate. And Al Pacino is brilliant in giving voice to that vision.

No, the real problem is that the debate around Kevorkian was never really about him. He became a lightning rod, of course. A willing and even eager one, seeking attention and confrontation the way a lightning rod draws electricity to it.

But the issues of assisted suicide and euthanasia actually have very little to do with Jack Kevorkian, or who he is, or what he did. What Kevorkian did was never about those issues, and was only indirectly about his ‘patients.’ The issues that drive the debate that crackled around him are much wider and much more complex. And these issues get shortchanged in Levinson’s treatment.

Much of the attraction that assisted suicide holds for the general public, and for my patients, stems from fear. We’re afraid of suffering, for instance. And we’re afraid of losing our dignity and autonomy. More generally, we’re afraid of losing control of our lives.

And most of us are left to face those fears in the setting of a health care system that doesn’t really care about us. Too often, we die in hospitals that focus on preserving life at the expense of comfort and dignity. And many of us will die in nursing homes that are too understaffed and poorly reimbursed to provide quality care.

These realities don’t find a place in Kevorkian’s worldview. He seems to think that suffering is inevitable, and that a loss of dignity is simply a part of serious illness. Nor are these realities given room in Levinson’s film. In fact, Levinson seems to buy into Kevorkian’s worldview enthusiastically and unquestioningly, endorsing and promoting it as gospel.

But the suffering and loss of dignity that are so central to the Kevorkian/Levinson view of serious illness aren’t inevitable. Although you’d never know it from this film, there are alternatives to Kevorkian’s death machine. And many of those alternatives offer a very different view of what life with a serious illness could be like.

Since Kevorkian pushed his first lethal dose, hospitals have made great strides in integrating palliative care. Palliative care teams offer patients comfort and dignity under difficult circumstances. And, what is most important to many of my patients, these teams offer patients more control over their care, and more autonomy in the choices they make.

And for all of those patients–and that’s most of us–who want to spend our last days at home, hospice has made enormous improvements in the care of people near the end of life. Hospice can promise exactly the sort of comfort and dignity and control that people used to seek in the back of Kevorkian’s death van.

If you don’t believe me, consider the numbers. In his career, it’s estimated that Kevorkian helped about 130 people to die. Compare that with the 1.3 million people who use hospice every year. That’s 1,299,870 people who chose a different path than the one that Kevorkian and Levinson embrace.

I’m not saying that one of those choices is the correct one. But can 1,299,870 people be wrong? Besides, a portrayal of an issue as complicated as assisted suicide that focuses on the choice of such a tiny minority doesn’t do justice to the issues involved.

Still, that was Levinson’s choice and those are his opinions. He’s entitled to hold them, and to share them. Fair enough.

But maybe now Levinson will use his considerable talents to paint a more nuanced picture of the possibilities that are open to people with serious illnesses. I’ll even loan him the title of my book: Last Acts. It would be a film about the choices that we have available to us, and all of the things that we can do even–or especially–when our time is limited. It would be a film about hope and opportunity rather than fear. That’s a film I’d very much like to see.

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