Women wrongfully subjected to symphysiotomy in Ireland have human rights to an acknowledgement and apology, to guarantees against repetition, to measures of restitution and rehabilitation and to monetary compensation. I have written about the symphysiotomy redress scheme on this blog and elsewhere on a number of occasions. It was recently reported that over 50 women who applied to the scheme have been denied redress because they were unable to provide the medical records which Judge Harding-Clarke demands. Al Jazeera recently reported women’s experience of the hostile administration of the scheme. A number of members of Survivors of Symphysiotomy decided not to participate in it, preferring instead to try their luck with civil litigation. There have been three symphysiotomy negligence cases to date. The first, Kearney, initially heard in 2006, was a case of symphysiotomy after C-section, performed in Our Lady of Lourdes Hospital in Drogheda. Mrs. Kearney succeed in the High Court and Supreme Court. Her case is the origin of the test which enabled two further litigants to bring negligence cases to the High Court, against the Coombe hospital. Another plaintiff, Noreen Burns, died last summer before her case against Holles Street could be heard. The first case to come to hearing, a Kearney-type symphysiotomy after C-section, settled. The second, a case of prophylactic symphysiotomy performed 12 days before the birth ended with a recent judgment by Cross J. As the term is used in this judgment, a prophylactic symphysiotomy refers to an elective, non-emergency symphysiotomy performed before labour begins, purportedly to slightly widen the pelvis and facilitate vaginal birth in the first instance and in future births.
Green shoots from the latest judgment.
What we have learned from these cases so far is that symphysiotomy litigation is not a hopeless strategy, as many TDs who support the redress scheme assert. In particular, we have learned that the Irish courts are likely to be open to hearing claims even where decades have passed since the symphysiotomy was performed. In his recent judgment, Cross J. held that the relevant date of knowledge for the purposes of s. 2 of the Statute of Limitations was the date at which the plaintiff had sufficient knowledge to justify bringing a claim. This was not the date of the symphysiotomy itself, or the date on which she first began to suspect that a symphysiotomy had been wrongfully performed, or the date on which she first made inquiries to the hospital. It was the date on which she received her medical records. This point was not directly argued in Kearney and it is very helpful to have the clarification. Of course, two years remains a ridiculous limitation period for personal injuries of this kind, and many women will find their claims statute-barred despite this decision.
We have also learned that Irish courts are willing to accept that litigants’ injuries are attributable to symphysiotomy. In his recent judgment, Cross J. accepted, against the assertions of the defence, that the plaintiff had suffered life-long physical and psychological consequences as a result of the symphysiotomy. Even though there were no records of the plaintiff raising her symphysiotomy with her doctor, Cross J. accepted evidence that she had discussed the resulting injuries with a friend long before the question of legal proceedings arose, and accepted the evidence of her medical experts which attributed her injuries to the symphysiotomy. In this respect, it is important to note that the High Court is less demanding than Judge Harding- Clarke’s redress scheme, which requires women to produce paper records going back to the time of the operation. Unfortunately, Cross J. repeatedly stresses that he makes no finding as to the general safety of prophylactic symphysiotomy.
We have also learned that hospitals’ defence teams are willing to proceed very aggressively against elderly women. The government, of course, has not adopted ‘model litigant‘ principles to moderate hospitals’ or the State Claims Agency’s dealings with victims of abuse. However, it is consoling to see that Cross J. dismisses some of the worst of the defence tactics deployed in this case; for instance, the implication that aspects of the plaintiff’s claim were concocted in collusion with Survivors of Symphysiotomy, and the argument that the existence of the redress scheme meant that he should be less willing to find in the plaintiff’s favour.
Difficulties in winning symphysiotomy cases under Kearney, and this latest judgment.
Inevitably, something is lost by framing a symphysiotomy case as a negligence case. The cost of litigation, and the emotional toll that it can take on litigants, and the campaigners who support them, are important considerations. We may be willing to accept that in exchange for some forms of success in litigation – a finding of liability and an award of meaningful compensation. But the latest symphysiotomy case suggests obstacles to recovery which are internal to Irish negligence doctrine.
There is no difficulty in establishing the duty of care in a symphysiotomy case because it is clear that doctors owe duties of care to their patients. Other kinds of institutional abuse case are more likely to fail at the point of establishing duty of care, fiduciary duty, or vicarious liability (see e.g. O’Keeffe v. Hickey and a raft of cases in Canada and Australia). As already discussed, the most recent symphysiotomy case also suggests that causation requirements will be readily satisfied. Symphysiotomy litigants are more likely to struggle with establishing breach of the doctor’s duty of care. This is because, for women who gave birth in the 1960s at least, the court’s approach to the standard of care is deeply shaped by their desire to avoid prejudice to the defendants caused by the passage of time. It is not only that the symphysiotomy is judged according to medical standards prevailing at the time that it was performed, but that the plaintiff’s case is dramatically circumscribed to the advantage of the defendant.
Excluding the consent question and misrecognising torture.
First, Cross J. accepted that the plaintiff was not told that a symphysiotomy would be performed on her. However, he could not hear further argument on this point. In Kearney, the High Court, and the Supreme Court held that the plaintiff could not base her claim in the failure to obtain her informed consent to the procedure because it could not be known what information had been given to her at the time the operation was carried out. Almost 40 years had passed since her symphysiotomy. All of those involved in her direct care were either dead, living elsewhere, or uncontactable and the records of the procedure were incomplete. It would be unjust to expect the hospital to defend itself against such a claim. There is therefore no argument in Kearney around assault, or around negligent failure to obtain informed consent along the lines of Walsh v. FPS. Last July, the United Nations Human Rights Committee emphasised failure to obtain women’s consent when it categorised symphysiotomy in terms of terms of violation of Article 7 of the ICCPR: the prohibition against torture, cruel, inhuman and degrading treatment, including forced subjection to medical experimentation. The Committee advocates prosecution of surviving doctors who performed symphysiotomy. If older symphysiotomy cases are not consent cases, of course, then the core of the injury done to many women is eliminated from judgment. If we think of symphysiotomy as the unlawful intentional infliction of pain and suffering on women for discriminatory reasons – as torture – then the Kearney judgment is deeply flawed. The removal of the consent question allows the development of symphysiotomy to be presented as an essentially benign practice – part of the natural development of obstetric care in Ireland. In the process, it leaves many of the problematic narratives about the safety of symphysiotomy (embedded in the Walsh Report) untouched. One might almost say that in Cross J.’s judgment, the operating doctor is partially redeemed, without having to take any responsibility. The judgment also, in Blackburn’s words, requires the divisibility of injuries that people experienced as indivisible. That much may undermine the value of litigation in the eyes of victims, who feel that they can only obtain an incomplete hearing; that their injury, to borrow from Nicky Priaulx, cannot be ‘seen’ in full.
The ‘any justification’ approach
Second, Kearney prescribes a modified Dunne test, again intended to allow the plaintiff to bring a negligence claim without unduly prejudicing the defendant. The plaintiff’s argument must be that “there was no justification whatsoever in any circumstances for the performance of a symphysiotomy on her at the time that it was performed”. If the defendant can establish in credible evidence any realistic reason justifying the symphysiotomy she cannot succeed. As Hardiman J. confirmed in Kearney in the Supreme Court, hypothetical justification will suffice. Cross J. acknowledges that this is obviously a very high threshold for the plaintiff to meet. He finds that there were realistic reasons justifying the performance of the plaintiff’s symphysiotomy – examination of the plaintiff convinced the treating doctors that vaginal delivery would not be possible. Rejecting the plaintiff’s expert evidence, he holds that doctors were justified in their suspicion of multiple Caesarean sections (which were more difficult to avoid given that the same doctors would not provide sterilisation and the law restricted access to contraceptives), and that symphysiotomy was then considered an appropriate and safe treatment in cases of the plaintiff’s kind by consultants at the Coombe and the National Maternity Hospital. The plaintiff’s recorded diagnosis matched this prevailing rationale. We can contrast this with Kearney in which Ryan J. held that Mrs. Kearney’s pelvic measurements and presentation did not suggest, on the terms on which symphysiotomy was performed in 1969, that she was a proper candidate for symphysiotomy. Thus there had been no realistic reason for performing the symphysiotomy in her case.
It is important to clarify how Cross J. defines the procedure he is assessing. He works from the assumption that, in 1963, symphysiotomy could be preferred to Caesarean section in cases where the measurements of a woman’s pelvis relative to the size of the as yet undelivered baby’s skull suggested that vaginal birth would be too difficult. First, he discounts the fact that the plaintiff’s symphysiotomy was performed 12 days before she gave birth. In Kearney, it was crucial to Ryan J.’s reasoning that the symphysiotomy was performed “on the way out” after the baby was already born – there could be no good reason, to his mind, for performing a symphysiotomy in these circumstances. We might have expected the 12 day delay to act as a similar indicator of irrationality in this case. However, the judge accepts that the defendants believed, at the time, that the plaintiff was overdue. So he characterises the symphysiotomy as a prophylactic symphysiotomy and treats it in the same way as any prophylactic symphysiotomy performed shortly before labour began. Second, finding justifying reasons does require the judge to select the community of knowledge which generates those reasons. Is it the British and Irish obstetric community of the time, or something narrower? Cross J. frames the justifying reasons very tightly in terms of time and place. He has some regard to the plaintiff’s expert evidence to the effect that a symphysiotomy should not be attempted before labour has been tried, since the most effective way to measure the pelvis is to attempt to put the baby through it. However, he characterises this type of prophylactic symphysiotomy, performed – perhaps erroneously – without trial of labour, as a stage in the evolution of symphysiotomy as a medical practice at the Coombe. It was carried out during a period of trial-and-error expansion of the original terms on which symphysiotomy had been revived at the National Maternity Hospital, and as a practice was rapidly phased out when the Coombe introduced the (from a feminist perspective highly problematic) practice of active management of labour. Thus, it could be justified on its own terms in 1963 even though earlier and later Masters of the Coombe would never have done it. This indicates that Kearney may require – in line with Cross J.’s refusal to draw any conclusion on the general consequences of symphysiotomy – that every symphysiotomy will be analysed very strictly on its own terms before any finding of liability will be considered. This is very problematic if we consider that the experimental nature of the practice of symphysiotomy – the tendency to play fast and loose with risk and necessity – is central to its character as a human rights abuse. If broad periods of experimentation are sliced down into ever finer periods of stabilisation and normalisation, that truth is lost.
The issue of ‘inherent defects’.
Kearney affirms that there is another route open to the plaintiff, which also comes from the judgment in Dunne. She may argue that the type of symphysiotomy performed on her, as a procedure, albeit it was supported by a respected body of medical opinion, suffered from “inherent defects” that “ought to have been obvious to any person giving the matter due consideration” at the time. This element of the Dunne test ensures that the courts are empowered to declare even generally accepted medical practices as unsafe. Expert witness support for a minority practice is a very weighty matter to be taken into consideration, but it is not definitive. As Sachs LJ held in Hucks v. Cole, ‘The court must be vigilant to see whether the reasons given for putting a patient at risk are valid in the light of any well-known advance in medical knowledge, or whether they stem from a residual adherence to out-of-date ideas” In Donovan v. Cork Co. Co., Walsh J. held:
” If there is a common practice which has inherent defects, which ought to be obvious to any person giving the matter due consideration, the fact that it is shown to have been widely and generally adopted over a period of time does not make the practice any the less negligent. Neglect of duty does not cease by repetition to be neglect of duty.”
McCarthy J. elaborated on that test in some depth in Roche v. Peilow. In that case, Finlay P. in the High Court had held that “the universality of a particular practice adopted by an entire profession must itself be evidence that it is not a practice which has inherent defects which ought to be obvious to any person giving the matter due consideration”. Finlay P. suggested that “inherent defects” connoted “an act of gross ignorance such as could not have been committed by any other ordinarily informed member of the profession.” McCarthy J. demurred, holding that this test would impose too high a burden of proof on the plaintiff. Professionals, in effect, are required to notice “clear and present dangers”.
This line of authority is not discussed in Cross J.’s recent decision. However, it looks to me as though his judgment is rather too close to the Finlay approach rejected by McCarthy. He defers, not as Finlay did, to universal or generally accepted practice, but to a minority school of respected obstetricians, and finds that their support of the practice was incompatible with the presence of inherent defects. He finds that given the wide acceptance of prophylactic symphysiotomy among what he calls “the Dublin school” of obstetricians at the time, and the existence of debates around the practice in hospital records and the proceedings of professional societies in which the practice was stoutly defended, it cannot be said that the practice was inherently defective. In Kearney, Ryan J. accepted that there was ‘outright condemnation’ of symphsyiotomy after C-section, but in this case Cross J. finds that prophylactic symphysiotomy was controversial, but defensible and was not the subject of peer criticism. Central to this conclusion, of course, is his acceptance of the defendants’ claim that these doctors at the time generally did not know of, and could not have foreseen, the serious health complaints that immediately and subsequently afflicted women subjected to symphysiotomy.
Whether, if properly applied, the McCarthy approach in Roche could be of much assistance to plaintiffs is an open question. It is not clear what “inherent defect” means in Irish law. Does the test invite a judge to evaluate the medical practice from his own lay perspective – to engage in his own evaluation of the risks and benefits of the procedure as they appeared in the light of international medical knowledge at the time, and perhaps to consider them in the light of the human rights norms then prevailing in Irish law? Or is he merely entitled to consider, against the evidence of the defence’s experts, whether the doctor’s decision was incapable of standing up to rational analysis? (as in the English test in Bolitho) If the latter, is there any real difference between the Kearney “no justification” test and the “inherent defect” test? It may be, following McCarthy in Roche, that inquiry into the presence of an “inherent defect” should go primarily to the dangerous outcome of the procedure chosen, irrespective of the reasons for performing it. This seems to be the approach taken by Ryan J. in the High Court in Kearney where he emphasised the maternal morbidity associated with symphysiotomy after Caesarean section. (Indeed, Ryan J. was more willing than Cross J. to make general findings, based on expert evidence, about the consequences associated with symphysiotomy). Then, questions arise as to whether the dangers of prophylactic symphysiotomy should have been obvious to doctors in 1963. In Roche, McCarthy J. acknowledged, following Kelly v. Crowley, the risks of judging professional conduct with the benefit of hindsight. Nevertheless, he said , “it cannot be a legal principle that a profession is, so to speak, entitled to ‘one free bite’ – to wait until damage is done before taking an obvious means of avoiding that damage.” Arguably, with symphysiotomy, “the Dublin school” had more than “one free bite”, but never sought to properly test their results. Cross J. notes, for instance, that Master Kevin Feeney was interested in pursuing follow-up studies of symphysiotomy patients. But in practice this was never done.
The upshot of Kearney as applied here is that (i) we judge the hospitals where symphysiotomy was performed according to a particular construction of the standards of their former employees’ time and place (the Coombe and the NMH, in Dublin in 1963); (ii) we make them answerable only to a narrow range of claims shaped by the limited archive their practice generated; few records (because they were not kept,or not made) and no records of follow-up with women subjected to symphysiotomy (because it was not done, and they were discouraged from seeking it) and (iii) we evaluate their practice according to particular accounts of the development of particular kinds of medical knowledge, leaving no room to introduce considerations from women’s lived experience or from then-prevailing constitutional and human rights standards
Medical knowledge, hindsight and power.
Cross J. frames himself as dealing with a medical negligence case. The UNHRC would say he was dealing with an instance of historical systemic, institutionalised gender-based violence. There is some recognition of this in Cross J.’s judgment when he acknowledges the importance of allowing the plaintiff to tell her story, and when he apologises because, from his perspective, it is impossible to find in her favour. He emphasises her good character throughout the judgment to show that she is deserving of respect. He quotes from Chief Justice Crewe (as he did in an essay on judicial reasoning in the Dublin Review of Books last year) when he says that he would have “taken hold of a thread or twine-twig” to support her, but the precedent in Kearney binds him. The quote is an interesting choice. The 17th century judge is lamenting the fact that he cannot find in favour of an established noble family in the Oxford Peerage case, battered by recent war, though he is from an old established family himself: “I have laboured to make a covenant with myself that affection may not press upon judgment”. Arguably, the choice of quote evidences some affection for women of the plaintiff’s class, and some collective shame, to borrow Anne Genovese’s emphasis, and a desire to atone for wrong. But tellingly, it is not a desire rooted in a sense of legal responsibility. It is obvious, on this judge’s view that it would be impossible to find for this plaintiff and still exercise judgment in line with our unassailable common heritage.
Chris Cuneen, writing about Australian efforts to use civil litigation to obtain justice for Indigenous victims of historical institutional abuse argues that processes of common law judgment effectively create a ‘defence of history’ which closes out the ‘worldview’ which motivated systemic injury and operates to ‘reconstruct and obscure’ litigants’ experience of abuse. It seems that Cross J. has fallen into this trap. The judgment very much depends on forgetting the systemic characteristics of the deliberate revival and development of symphysiotomy by Catholic doctors practising in the 1960s in a state where, as is especially clear from the link between contraception and symphysiotomy acknowledged in this judgment, government was inseperable from projects designed to control women’s reproductive agency. First, the judgment gives great weight to medical records and debates – he engages in much closer reading of these texts than either court in Kearney, with clearly significant consequences. He is impressed by the fact that the practice of symphysiotomy was “carefully recorded and subject to transparent review”, tending to suggest that they merited great weight. However, as Kune writes in the Australian context, official records are not always as regular as we might expect. They do not always disclose the true reasons for particular decisions. They are prepared for particular institutions’ purposes and legitimate particular institutional narratives. Until these narratives are put in a broader social context, the records are liable to be misread. Cross J.’s approach to that context is remarkable. Cross J. presents the development of medical knowledge in heavily masculinist terms. British and Irish doctors lay down intellectual challenges to one another in a series of robust exchanges, and over time both groups alter their views, to the betterment of medical science. What about the moments in this exchange which appear not to fit that pattern? He describes a recorded 1951 instance of outright British criticism of the Irish approach to symphysiotomy:
the truth of the conflict between the British and Irish experts, though couched in Biblical and religious terms, [was] more of a question of a clash between native obstetricians defending Irish practices, and visitors from the old colonial power.
Thus, symphysiotomy becomes part of an emergent national medical heritage, understandably defended against the English. But there is little examination of the historical reasons why the Irish medical profession defined itself against Britain in this way, or chose to make those distinctions visible on the bodies of women. In another exculpatory passage, he dismisses the claim that Catholic doctors performed symphysiotomies rather than C-sections as a way of avoiding the questions of contraception and sterilisation, by noting that the Rotunda hospital, which was not under the direct control of the Archbishop of Dublin, also performed symphysiotomies, but only after Caesarean section. He does not mention that the Supreme Court, and indeed the government, accept that this procedure generally could not be justified even at the time. Second, Cross J. gives the defendants the benefit of the doubt when he says that doctors performing prophylactic symphysiotomies believed that the operations had no serious consequences for women, even though in coming to that belief they had to ignore or discount women’s immediate responses to the surgery and afterwards – their pain, difficulty in walking, difficulty in caring for their newborns, confusion, disbelief and shame. They had to ignore the reactions of these women’s mothers, sisters, friends and husbands. They had to neglect to conduct proper follow-up checks. They benefited from a medical and social system which, as Cross J. acknowledges, required women to accept their lot, and which sometimes accused women of imagining or falsifying their symptoms. They were, the judgment notes, “content with the good results and lack of complaints”. They had to engage in the sort of overt dismissal of women’s embodied experience that is only possible in a violently patriarchal society, such as the Ireland of the 1960s. “Time” as Chief Justice Crewe said “hath his revolutions” and so Cross J. accepts that a prophylactic symphysiotomy would not be done today, but he can nevertheless square it with the benificent practice of the ’eminent’ doctors of another time. We could argue that Cross J. finds it possible to treat this body of knowledge otherwise than as defective because he is a product of another iteration of same patriarchal society – a society in which it is at last possible to accept that these women’s suffering was genuine, but not to hold accountable the doctors who caused it.This would be a better judgment if it accepted that medical knowledge is genuinely contestable, and did not supplement the advantage already conferred on the defendants by the Kearney test with unnecessary deference to the official historical record. Borrowing from Nietzsche, Cross J. suggests that doctors were experimenting with symphysiotomy, and gradually coming to better knowledge of it: “philosophising with a hammer and testing concepts and conclusions by striking them to see if they were hollow”. “Philosophising with a hammer” refers to Nietzsche’s efforts to irreverently dismantle old values; a process of self-overcoming which he acknowledges is necessarily destructive. Cross J. does not pick up any hammer of his own.
Policy arguments for a modified approach.
Kearney tends to de-contextualise women’s injuries in order to avoid prejudice to the defendant at the stage of gathering and presenting evidence. But it comes at too high a cost. In this case, a woman who arguably has a good case under Articles 3 and 8 ECHR , and plausibly under the equivalent provisions of the Constitution, was left without an appropriate remedy. A woman entitled, perhaps, to aggravated damages to take account of the experimental and non-consensual nature of the practice, was left without a remedy. Now, these are ultimately not run-of-the-mill tort cases. They involve intensely traumatic experiences. They are characterised by an imbalance of power between plaintiff and defendant at a perhaps uniquely vulnerable moment in the plaintiff’s life. The nature of childbirth is such that this imbalance necessarily persists into obstetric care in the present day. These cases have their origins, as the UNHRC recognised last July, in deeply gendered and abusive institutional processes. They engage significant human rights violations perpetrated by men working under the supervision of the state; they are arguably O’Keeffe-type cases – or, in American terms, analogous to medical experiment cases in which the state was implicated, such as the Cincinnati radiation case or Heinrich v. Sweet. Precisely because they are so distinguishable from ordinary medical negligence cases, there should be no significant objection from public policy in adjusting the Kearney approach. Because prophylactic symphysiotomy is unlikely to be revived and has no significant comparators today, there should be no chilling effect on contemporary medical practice. (Cross J. accepts the evidence of Dr. Peter Boylan, for the defence, that some experimentation is necessary for medical science to advance but as a matter of public policy, doctors must be subject to reasonable constraint.) There is no major cost either to insurers or to the state in permitting the small number of potentially successful cases a fairer hearing. In other jurisdictions – particularly in Canada – courts have been willing to modify negligence doctrine where public policy compels it, in order to do justice in cases of historical institutional abuse. I would think that the “inherent defect” test provides some scope for this modification. If this cannot be done, then the case for a new public inquiry and a modified redress scheme is stronger than ever.