Skip to main content

Philosophy and the Nobel Prize for Medicine

Image result for James Allison


This year the Nobel Prize in Medicine went to the perpetrators of a revolution in the treatment of cancer.

It went, specifically, to James P. Allison and Tasuku Honjo "for their discovery of cancer therapy by inhibition of negative immune regulation." The photo above is of Allison.

The idea has been in the air for more than a century that the deadliness of cancer is due to the fact that the normal human immune system does not regard cancer cells as "foreign matter." It recognizes those cells as "part of us." Friend, not foe. But that situation could be reversed. Early attempts at fighting cancer this way involved infecting a patient with bacteria to stimulate the immune system, with the idea that once stimulated it would not then go solely after the bacterial threat, but after cancer cells as well.

It didn't work all that well, although a variant of that approach remains helpful against bladder cancer.

More basic research had to pass as water under the bridge before scientists like Allison and Tasuku could go further.

Now, though, they seem to have cracked the nut. As the Nobel Prize committee's materials announcing the award helpfully explain: "[I]n 2010 an important clinical study showed striking effects in patients with advanced melanoma, a type of skin cancer. In several patients signs of remaining cancer disappeared. Such remarkable results had never been seen before in this patient group."   

There should be a philosophical point to this, should there not? I believe there is. The basic research that had to be done, before the old scheme of stimulating the body's own immune system against cancer cells could actually work, was research into how the body recognizes itself. What is "me" and what is "them."

This should stimulate thought on selfhood, on nothing less than human individuality. Even identical twins are different bodies and, despite the identical genome, my understanding is that material from one twin is in some danger of rejection by the system of the other twin.  Those who believe individualism to be an important moral principle (however it is to be interpreted) have this natural basis for it. My body very persistently regards itself as itself, and as uniquely itself. 

Sometimes medicine has to work to make the body more accepting of foreign matter (as with the drugs that characteristically accompany transplanted organs), sometimes medicine works to make the body less accepting and more trigger happy (as with the new cancer treatments). The important take away, though, is that uniqueness and self-preservation are facts that precede any conceptualization.

Enjoy the Nobel money, doctors: it has been nobly won.  

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A Story About Coleridge

This is a quote from a memoir by Dorothy Wordsworth, reflecting on a trip she took with two famous poets, her brother, William Wordsworth, and their similarly gifted companion, Samuel Taylor Coleridge.   We sat upon a bench, placed for the sake of one of these views, whence we looked down upon the waterfall, and over the open country ... A lady and gentleman, more expeditious tourists than ourselves, came to the spot; they left us at the seat, and we found them again at another station above the Falls. Coleridge, who is always good-natured enough to enter into conversation with anybody whom he meets in his way, began to talk with the gentleman, who observed that it was a majestic waterfall. Coleridge was delighted with the accuracy of the epithet, particularly as he had been settling in his own mind the precise meaning of the words grand, majestic, sublime, etc., and had discussed the subject with William at some length the day before. “Yes, sir,” says Coleridge, “it is a majesti

Five Lessons from the Allegory of the Cave

  Please correct me if there are others. But it seems to be there are five lessons the reader is meant to draw from the story about the cave.   First, Plato  is working to devalue what we would call empiricism. He is saying that keeping track of the shadows on the cave wall, trying to make sense of what you see there, will NOT get you to wisdom. Second, Plato is contending that reality comes in levels. The shadows on the wall are illusions. The solid objects being passed around behind my back are more real than their shadows are. BUT … the world outside the the cave is more real than that — and the sun by which that world is illuminated is the top of the hierarchy. So there isn’t a binary choice of real/unreal. There are levels. Third, he equates realness with knowability.  I  only have opinions about the shadows. Could I turn around, I could have at least the glimmerings of knowledge. Could I get outside the cave, I would really Know. Fourth, the parable assigns a task to philosophers

Searle: The Chinese Room

John Searle has become the object of accusations of improper conduct. These accusations even have some people in the world of academic philosophy saying that instructors in that world should try to avoid teaching Searle's views. That is an odd contention, and has given rise to heated exchanges in certain corners of the blogosphere.  At Leiter Reports, I encountered a comment from someone describing himself as "grad student drop out." GSDO said: " This is a side question (and not at all an attempt to answer the question BL posed): How important is John Searle's work? Are people still working on speech act theory or is that just another dead end in the history of 20th century philosophy? My impression is that his reputation is somewhat inflated from all of his speaking engagements and NYRoB reviews. The Chinese room argument is a classic, but is there much more to his work than that?" I took it upon myself to answer that on LR. But here I'll tak