Cynthia Geppert, MD, MA, MPH, MSBE

Veterans speak of losing their innocence and longing to regain it. They ask: “Why can’t I just go back to the way I was?”

Jonathan Shay, Achilles in Vietnam ¹

On July 17, 2023, several media outlets covering military and federal news carried a story about the US Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) plan to conduct a major survey of moral injury in veterans.² This is not the first such survey: There have been numerous previous studies conducted by both VA and non-VA investigators.³ Moral injury has been increasingly recognized as the signature wound of service members, especially those who fought in Operation Enduring Freedom and Operation Iraqi Freedom.⁴ This new VA survey can provide crucial information because we know so little about moral injury or how to help those with the condition.

At the time of this writing, there has been no official VA public statement about the study. At face value, this seemed to be strange, given that the groundbreaking research could improve the diagnosis and therapy of moral injury. According to a June 2023 VA Office of Research and Development internal announcement, the primary goal of the study is to determine the prevalence of moral injury among US veterans. The secondary goals of the study are to (1) compare those who develop moral injury and those who do not after exposure to similar traumas; and (2) conduct interviews about thoughts and experiences from 20 veterans who identify as having moral injury and 20 who do not but who have similar exposure to morally injurious events.

Data for the study will be collected through an extensive online survey from a nationally representative sample of 3000 post-9/11 war veterans. The sample will include at least 950 who served in a war zone and at least 400 who are aged 18 to 54 years. The respondents will be paid $20 for the 30 to 45 minutes survey. The collection and analysis of data are expected to take 3 or more years.

The modern version of moral injury is often associated with Jonathan Shay, MD, a VA psychiatrist.⁵ Shay wrote about the origin of moral injury found in Homer’s The Iliad and The Odyssey and how the poems offer ancient echoes of his therapy with modern-day combat veterans.¹

There is no universal agreement on the definition of moral injury. A working definition of moral injury used in the VA suggests that it describes the difficulties that people face after doing high-stakes actions that violate a sense of what is right and just or after being forced to experience others’ immoral actions.⁶

Two conditions are necessary for moral injury to occur. First, an individual acts or witnesses an action that contravenes their core ethical principles. Secondly, that occurrence is experienced as a breach of the person’s moral barrier. Military personnel killing civilians to protect their lives and those of their fellow troops is a tragic example of moral injury. The translation of this for health care professionals may be the inability to save severely wounded service members in the combat theater due to the exigencies of war.⁷

Experts in moral injury emphasize the importance of distinguishing the phenomenon from posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Unlike many psychiatric disorders, both moral injury and PTSD have known etiologies: traumatic events. An individual may have 1 or both conditions, and each can manifest anger, guilt, shame, and loss of trust in others. One way that moral injury can be distinguished from PTSD is that it goes beyond the psychological to compromise the moral and often spiritual beliefs and values of the individual. One of the characteristics that makes us human is that we have a conscience to guide us in navigating the moral field of human life, but moral injury scrambles the internal compass that discerns right and wrong, good and bad. When an individual commits an action or witnesses the perpetration of an action that crosses their personal moral boundary, their integrity is shattered, and they may lose faith in their intrinsic worth. These beliefs prevent many service members from disclosing their distress, leading some commentators to refer to moral injury as a silent or invisible wound.⁸

The timing of the VA’s launching of a study of moral injury of this size and scope may reflect 3 recent developments: Not unexpected in VA matters, one is political, another is benefits, and the last pertains to health care.

First, August marks the second anniversary of the withdrawal of American troops from Afghanistan. Many Afghans who assisted US forces during the war were not evacuated. For some of the troops who served in the country, these events as well as the chaotic end to the long war were experienced as a contravening of an ethical code, resulting in moral injury.⁹

Second, many of those service members are now calling on the federal government to recognize and respond to the detrimental impact of the withdrawal, including the high prevalence of moral injury in troops who served in Afghanistan.¹⁰ Moral injury at this time is not considered a psychiatric diagnosis; hence, not eligible for VA benefits. However, many of the psychological manifestations of moral injury, such as depression and anxiety, are established service-connected disorders.

Third, several VA studies have demonstrated that moral injury either alone or combined with PTSD substantially elevates the risk of suicide.¹¹ Since preventing suicide is a major strategic priority for the VA, the importance of learning more about the epidemiology of moral injury is the necessary first step to developing therapeutic approaches. At a time when organized medicine is becoming increasingly technological and fragmented, launching this unprecedented survey demonstrates the VA’s commitment to delivering holistic and humanistic care of the service member: body, mind, and spirit.

This project also sends a strong message to those who lobby for shifting funding from the VA to community care or call for privatization. Veterans are different: They experience unique disorders borne of the battles they fought for our freedom. The VA has the specialized knowledge and skills in research and health care to develop the knowledge to ground innovative treatments for conditions like moral injury, PTSD, and traumatic brain injuries. VA chaplains and mental health professionals have pioneered assessment instruments and promising therapies for moral injury. Their distinctive expertise unrivaled in the civilian sector benefits not only veterans but also the wider community where there is a growing awareness of the devastating impact of moral injury, particularly on health care professionals.¹² And there may have been no other time in history when this broken, violent world was more in need of moral healing and peace.

Veterans speak of losing their innocence and longing to regain it. They ask: “Why can’t I just go back to the way I was?”

Jonathan Shay, Achilles in Vietnam ¹

On July 17, 2023, several media outlets covering military and federal news carried a story about the US Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) plan to conduct a major survey of moral injury in veterans.² This is not the first such survey: There have been numerous previous studies conducted by both VA and non-VA investigators.³ Moral injury has been increasingly recognized as the signature wound of service members, especially those who fought in Operation Enduring Freedom and Operation Iraqi Freedom.⁴ This new VA survey can provide crucial information because we know so little about moral injury or how to help those with the condition.

At the time of this writing, there has been no official VA public statement about the study. At face value, this seemed to be strange, given that the groundbreaking research could improve the diagnosis and therapy of moral injury. According to a June 2023 VA Office of Research and Development internal announcement, the primary goal of the study is to determine the prevalence of moral injury among US veterans. The secondary goals of the study are to (1) compare those who develop moral injury and those who do not after exposure to similar traumas; and (2) conduct interviews about thoughts and experiences from 20 veterans who identify as having moral injury and 20 who do not but who have similar exposure to morally injurious events.

Data for the study will be collected through an extensive online survey from a nationally representative sample of 3000 post-9/11 war veterans. The sample will include at least 950 who served in a war zone and at least 400 who are aged 18 to 54 years. The respondents will be paid $20 for the 30 to 45 minutes survey. The collection and analysis of data are expected to take 3 or more years.

The modern version of moral injury is often associated with Jonathan Shay, MD, a VA psychiatrist.⁵ Shay wrote about the origin of moral injury found in Homer’s The Iliad and The Odyssey and how the poems offer ancient echoes of his therapy with modern-day combat veterans.¹

There is no universal agreement on the definition of moral injury. A working definition of moral injury used in the VA suggests that it describes the difficulties that people face after doing high-stakes actions that violate a sense of what is right and just or after being forced to experience others’ immoral actions.⁶

Two conditions are necessary for moral injury to occur. First, an individual acts or witnesses an action that contravenes their core ethical principles. Secondly, that occurrence is experienced as a breach of the person’s moral barrier. Military personnel killing civilians to protect their lives and those of their fellow troops is a tragic example of moral injury. The translation of this for health care professionals may be the inability to save severely wounded service members in the combat theater due to the exigencies of war.⁷

Experts in moral injury emphasize the importance of distinguishing the phenomenon from posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Unlike many psychiatric disorders, both moral injury and PTSD have known etiologies: traumatic events. An individual may have 1 or both conditions, and each can manifest anger, guilt, shame, and loss of trust in others. One way that moral injury can be distinguished from PTSD is that it goes beyond the psychological to compromise the moral and often spiritual beliefs and values of the individual. One of the characteristics that makes us human is that we have a conscience to guide us in navigating the moral field of human life, but moral injury scrambles the internal compass that discerns right and wrong, good and bad. When an individual commits an action or witnesses the perpetration of an action that crosses their personal moral boundary, their integrity is shattered, and they may lose faith in their intrinsic worth. These beliefs prevent many service members from disclosing their distress, leading some commentators to refer to moral injury as a silent or invisible wound.⁸

The timing of the VA’s launching of a study of moral injury of this size and scope may reflect 3 recent developments: Not unexpected in VA matters, one is political, another is benefits, and the last pertains to health care.

First, August marks the second anniversary of the withdrawal of American troops from Afghanistan. Many Afghans who assisted US forces during the war were not evacuated. For some of the troops who served in the country, these events as well as the chaotic end to the long war were experienced as a contravening of an ethical code, resulting in moral injury.⁹

Second, many of those service members are now calling on the federal government to recognize and respond to the detrimental impact of the withdrawal, including the high prevalence of moral injury in troops who served in Afghanistan.¹⁰ Moral injury at this time is not considered a psychiatric diagnosis; hence, not eligible for VA benefits. However, many of the psychological manifestations of moral injury, such as depression and anxiety, are established service-connected disorders.

Third, several VA studies have demonstrated that moral injury either alone or combined with PTSD substantially elevates the risk of suicide.¹¹ Since preventing suicide is a major strategic priority for the VA, the importance of learning more about the epidemiology of moral injury is the necessary first step to developing therapeutic approaches. At a time when organized medicine is becoming increasingly technological and fragmented, launching this unprecedented survey demonstrates the VA’s commitment to delivering holistic and humanistic care of the service member: body, mind, and spirit.

This project also sends a strong message to those who lobby for shifting funding from the VA to community care or call for privatization. Veterans are different: They experience unique disorders borne of the battles they fought for our freedom. The VA has the specialized knowledge and skills in research and health care to develop the knowledge to ground innovative treatments for conditions like moral injury, PTSD, and traumatic brain injuries. VA chaplains and mental health professionals have pioneered assessment instruments and promising therapies for moral injury. Their distinctive expertise unrivaled in the civilian sector benefits not only veterans but also the wider community where there is a growing awareness of the devastating impact of moral injury, particularly on health care professionals.¹² And there may have been no other time in history when this broken, violent world was more in need of moral healing and peace.

Veterans speak of losing their innocence and longing to regain it. They ask: “Why can’t I just go back to the way I was?”

Jonathan Shay, Achilles in Vietnam ¹

On July 17, 2023, several media outlets covering military and federal news carried a story about the US Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) plan to conduct a major survey of moral injury in veterans.² This is not the first such survey: There have been numerous previous studies conducted by both VA and non-VA investigators.³ Moral injury has been increasingly recognized as the signature wound of service members, especially those who fought in Operation Enduring Freedom and Operation Iraqi Freedom.⁴ This new VA survey can provide crucial information because we know so little about moral injury or how to help those with the condition.

At the time of this writing, there has been no official VA public statement about the study. At face value, this seemed to be strange, given that the groundbreaking research could improve the diagnosis and therapy of moral injury. According to a June 2023 VA Office of Research and Development internal announcement, the primary goal of the study is to determine the prevalence of moral injury among US veterans. The secondary goals of the study are to (1) compare those who develop moral injury and those who do not after exposure to similar traumas; and (2) conduct interviews about thoughts and experiences from 20 veterans who identify as having moral injury and 20 who do not but who have similar exposure to morally injurious events.

Data for the study will be collected through an extensive online survey from a nationally representative sample of 3000 post-9/11 war veterans. The sample will include at least 950 who served in a war zone and at least 400 who are aged 18 to 54 years. The respondents will be paid $20 for the 30 to 45 minutes survey. The collection and analysis of data are expected to take 3 or more years.

The modern version of moral injury is often associated with Jonathan Shay, MD, a VA psychiatrist.⁵ Shay wrote about the origin of moral injury found in Homer’s The Iliad and The Odyssey and how the poems offer ancient echoes of his therapy with modern-day combat veterans.¹

There is no universal agreement on the definition of moral injury. A working definition of moral injury used in the VA suggests that it describes the difficulties that people face after doing high-stakes actions that violate a sense of what is right and just or after being forced to experience others’ immoral actions.⁶

Two conditions are necessary for moral injury to occur. First, an individual acts or witnesses an action that contravenes their core ethical principles. Secondly, that occurrence is experienced as a breach of the person’s moral barrier. Military personnel killing civilians to protect their lives and those of their fellow troops is a tragic example of moral injury. The translation of this for health care professionals may be the inability to save severely wounded service members in the combat theater due to the exigencies of war.⁷

Experts in moral injury emphasize the importance of distinguishing the phenomenon from posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Unlike many psychiatric disorders, both moral injury and PTSD have known etiologies: traumatic events. An individual may have 1 or both conditions, and each can manifest anger, guilt, shame, and loss of trust in others. One way that moral injury can be distinguished from PTSD is that it goes beyond the psychological to compromise the moral and often spiritual beliefs and values of the individual. One of the characteristics that makes us human is that we have a conscience to guide us in navigating the moral field of human life, but moral injury scrambles the internal compass that discerns right and wrong, good and bad. When an individual commits an action or witnesses the perpetration of an action that crosses their personal moral boundary, their integrity is shattered, and they may lose faith in their intrinsic worth. These beliefs prevent many service members from disclosing their distress, leading some commentators to refer to moral injury as a silent or invisible wound.⁸

The timing of the VA’s launching of a study of moral injury of this size and scope may reflect 3 recent developments: Not unexpected in VA matters, one is political, another is benefits, and the last pertains to health care.

First, August marks the second anniversary of the withdrawal of American troops from Afghanistan. Many Afghans who assisted US forces during the war were not evacuated. For some of the troops who served in the country, these events as well as the chaotic end to the long war were experienced as a contravening of an ethical code, resulting in moral injury.⁹

Second, many of those service members are now calling on the federal government to recognize and respond to the detrimental impact of the withdrawal, including the high prevalence of moral injury in troops who served in Afghanistan.¹⁰ Moral injury at this time is not considered a psychiatric diagnosis; hence, not eligible for VA benefits. However, many of the psychological manifestations of moral injury, such as depression and anxiety, are established service-connected disorders.

Third, several VA studies have demonstrated that moral injury either alone or combined with PTSD substantially elevates the risk of suicide.¹¹ Since preventing suicide is a major strategic priority for the VA, the importance of learning more about the epidemiology of moral injury is the necessary first step to developing therapeutic approaches. At a time when organized medicine is becoming increasingly technological and fragmented, launching this unprecedented survey demonstrates the VA’s commitment to delivering holistic and humanistic care of the service member: body, mind, and spirit.

This project also sends a strong message to those who lobby for shifting funding from the VA to community care or call for privatization. Veterans are different: They experience unique disorders borne of the battles they fought for our freedom. The VA has the specialized knowledge and skills in research and health care to develop the knowledge to ground innovative treatments for conditions like moral injury, PTSD, and traumatic brain injuries. VA chaplains and mental health professionals have pioneered assessment instruments and promising therapies for moral injury. Their distinctive expertise unrivaled in the civilian sector benefits not only veterans but also the wider community where there is a growing awareness of the devastating impact of moral injury, particularly on health care professionals.¹² And there may have been no other time in history when this broken, violent world was more in need of moral healing and peace.

My first wish is to see this plague to Mankind, war, banished from the Earth; & the Sons and daughters of this World employed in more pleasing & innocent amusements than in preparing implements, & exercising them for the destruction of the human race.

General George Washington¹

When I was a child, every Fourth of July holiday my father would take me to the military fireworks display at Fort Sam Houston in Texas. We would take our place in the long cascade of cars parked at the huge parade ground in front of Brooke Army Medical Center. It was the most spectacular display of the year not to be found anywhere else in the city. Army fire engines and medics were always on site in case anything went wrong, which rarely occurred thanks to the pyrotechnic experts who ran the display.

Later, when I began my psychiatric residency at the US Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) New Mexico Healthcare System, I quickly learned a darker truth about fireworks. What seemed to me and many other civilians in General Washington’s words, a “pleasing and innocent amusement,” instead was a distressing and terrifying revisiting of trauma for many service members and veterans, likely including my father, who was a World War II combat veteran.

Fireworks are so closely linked to the birth of our young nation that we often forget they were invented in China a millennia ago. Fireworks were first associated with the fledgling nation in the middle of the War of Independence. On July 4, 1776, representatives of the 13 colonies signed the Declaration of Independence. In one of several ironies of history, what was used at the initial commemorations was not fireworks but the very “implements of destruction,” to use Washington’s phrase—guns and cannons. The demonstrations of firepower were meant to be morale boosters. After the war, the dangers of the detonations were recognized, and firearms were replaced with the fireworks we still launch today.²

The country celebrates the holiday with cookouts, parades, brass band concerts, and of course fireworks. Added to the organized shows are the millions of citizens who demonstrate private patriotism by shooting off fireworks in their neighborhoods. In 2021, Americans spent $1.5 billion on fireworks, and 33% said they planned to attend a public display.³

However, people are increasingly recognizing the negative side of fireworks for wild and companion animals and the environment. Most of us who have dogs and I am sure cats, horses, and other animals dread the impending darkness of the Fourth as it signals the coming loud noise and the cringing, pacing animals who want to run yet have nowhere to go to be safe from the sound.⁴

Sitting in the clinic with veterans, I realized it was not only pets and wildlife that feared the ultimate American holiday but also the very individuals who fought to preserve the freedom those fireworks celebrate. The VA’s National Center for Posttraumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) estimates that about 7% of veterans will meet the diagnostic criteria for PTSD in their lifetimes. The prevalence of PTSD differs, depending on the methodology used, era and type of services, and demographics. Some studies have found higher rates of PTSD in women, young veterans, and those who served in Vietnam. Among the veterans who receive health care at the VA, like those I saw in the clinic, 23 in 1000 may have PTSD.⁵

We, after all, are remarkably similar in physiology to other mammals, and not surprisingly, veterans with PTSD exhibit many of the same reactions to fireworks. The sights, sounds, and odor of fireworks, as well as the vocal responses of the crowd at large displays evoke memories that trigger fear and anxiety. Many veterans experience flashbacks in which they relive combat and training accidents and have nightmares of those events, interrupting sleep. The instinct of many veterans is to avoid the holiday altogether: Many patients I knew sought refuge in remote mountain campsites often to find that even there they were not safe from revelers.

Avoidance being a cardinal symptom and coping mechanism of PTSD, therapists advise other methods of managing the Fourth of July, such as distractions that are calming and people who are reassuring. Therapists often rehearse self-talk scripts and teach breathing exercises targeted to break the behavioral conditioning that links present innocuous sensory overstimulation with a past life-threatening danger. The heat of summer worsens the stress, cooling down literally and figuratively can help.⁶

Many VA medical centers send announcements to the media or have their experts do interviews to educate the public about the potentially traumatizing effects of fireworks. They also encourage veterans who are apprehensive about the holiday to seek additional mental health help, including the Veterans Crisis Line. With my patients, we started early and developed a preventive plan to manage the anticipatory apprehension and arrange a means of enduring the ordeal. I do not have data to prove it, but anecdotally I know from my years on-call that visits to VA emergency departments and admissions to our inpatient psychiatry unit always increased around Independence Day in part because some veterans used drugs and/or alcohol to dampen their stress response.

VA experts also have advice for the families and friends of veterans who want to reduce the impact of fireworks and other holiday activities on them. Many veterans will feel at once intensely present to the disturbing aspects like fireworks and crowds and at the same time, distant and separated from the more positive parts of celebrations like being with loved ones in the outdoors. We can simply ask the veterans in our lives and neighborhoods how the festivities affect them and how we can help them get through the long hot night.⁷ Yet it would not be America without some controversy, and opinions are divided even among veterans about whether yard signs that say, “Combat Veteran Lives Here Please Be Courteous With Fireworks” enhance or impede the effort to increase awareness of the connection between fireworks, veterans, and PTSD.⁸

This editorial began with my own story of enjoying fireworks to emphasize that my aim is not to ruin the fun but to ask us to think before we shoot and consider the veterans near us for whom our recreation may cause unnecessary distress. Fourth of July would not have been possible without the soldiers who fought and died in the American Revolution and all the conflicts since. We owe it to all who have worn the uniform for the United States of America to remember the extraordinary toll it has taken on their ability to live ordinary lives. Like General Washington, we should vow to end the wars that wounded them so future generations will be able to join in celebrating Independence Day.

My first wish is to see this plague to Mankind, war, banished from the Earth; & the Sons and daughters of this World employed in more pleasing & innocent amusements than in preparing implements, & exercising them for the destruction of the human race.

General George Washington¹

When I was a child, every Fourth of July holiday my father would take me to the military fireworks display at Fort Sam Houston in Texas. We would take our place in the long cascade of cars parked at the huge parade ground in front of Brooke Army Medical Center. It was the most spectacular display of the year not to be found anywhere else in the city. Army fire engines and medics were always on site in case anything went wrong, which rarely occurred thanks to the pyrotechnic experts who ran the display.

Later, when I began my psychiatric residency at the US Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) New Mexico Healthcare System, I quickly learned a darker truth about fireworks. What seemed to me and many other civilians in General Washington’s words, a “pleasing and innocent amusement,” instead was a distressing and terrifying revisiting of trauma for many service members and veterans, likely including my father, who was a World War II combat veteran.

Fireworks are so closely linked to the birth of our young nation that we often forget they were invented in China a millennia ago. Fireworks were first associated with the fledgling nation in the middle of the War of Independence. On July 4, 1776, representatives of the 13 colonies signed the Declaration of Independence. In one of several ironies of history, what was used at the initial commemorations was not fireworks but the very “implements of destruction,” to use Washington’s phrase—guns and cannons. The demonstrations of firepower were meant to be morale boosters. After the war, the dangers of the detonations were recognized, and firearms were replaced with the fireworks we still launch today.²

The country celebrates the holiday with cookouts, parades, brass band concerts, and of course fireworks. Added to the organized shows are the millions of citizens who demonstrate private patriotism by shooting off fireworks in their neighborhoods. In 2021, Americans spent $1.5 billion on fireworks, and 33% said they planned to attend a public display.³

However, people are increasingly recognizing the negative side of fireworks for wild and companion animals and the environment. Most of us who have dogs and I am sure cats, horses, and other animals dread the impending darkness of the Fourth as it signals the coming loud noise and the cringing, pacing animals who want to run yet have nowhere to go to be safe from the sound.⁴

Sitting in the clinic with veterans, I realized it was not only pets and wildlife that feared the ultimate American holiday but also the very individuals who fought to preserve the freedom those fireworks celebrate. The VA’s National Center for Posttraumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) estimates that about 7% of veterans will meet the diagnostic criteria for PTSD in their lifetimes. The prevalence of PTSD differs, depending on the methodology used, era and type of services, and demographics. Some studies have found higher rates of PTSD in women, young veterans, and those who served in Vietnam. Among the veterans who receive health care at the VA, like those I saw in the clinic, 23 in 1000 may have PTSD.⁵

We, after all, are remarkably similar in physiology to other mammals, and not surprisingly, veterans with PTSD exhibit many of the same reactions to fireworks. The sights, sounds, and odor of fireworks, as well as the vocal responses of the crowd at large displays evoke memories that trigger fear and anxiety. Many veterans experience flashbacks in which they relive combat and training accidents and have nightmares of those events, interrupting sleep. The instinct of many veterans is to avoid the holiday altogether: Many patients I knew sought refuge in remote mountain campsites often to find that even there they were not safe from revelers.

Avoidance being a cardinal symptom and coping mechanism of PTSD, therapists advise other methods of managing the Fourth of July, such as distractions that are calming and people who are reassuring. Therapists often rehearse self-talk scripts and teach breathing exercises targeted to break the behavioral conditioning that links present innocuous sensory overstimulation with a past life-threatening danger. The heat of summer worsens the stress, cooling down literally and figuratively can help.⁶

Many VA medical centers send announcements to the media or have their experts do interviews to educate the public about the potentially traumatizing effects of fireworks. They also encourage veterans who are apprehensive about the holiday to seek additional mental health help, including the Veterans Crisis Line. With my patients, we started early and developed a preventive plan to manage the anticipatory apprehension and arrange a means of enduring the ordeal. I do not have data to prove it, but anecdotally I know from my years on-call that visits to VA emergency departments and admissions to our inpatient psychiatry unit always increased around Independence Day in part because some veterans used drugs and/or alcohol to dampen their stress response.

VA experts also have advice for the families and friends of veterans who want to reduce the impact of fireworks and other holiday activities on them. Many veterans will feel at once intensely present to the disturbing aspects like fireworks and crowds and at the same time, distant and separated from the more positive parts of celebrations like being with loved ones in the outdoors. We can simply ask the veterans in our lives and neighborhoods how the festivities affect them and how we can help them get through the long hot night.⁷ Yet it would not be America without some controversy, and opinions are divided even among veterans about whether yard signs that say, “Combat Veteran Lives Here Please Be Courteous With Fireworks” enhance or impede the effort to increase awareness of the connection between fireworks, veterans, and PTSD.⁸

This editorial began with my own story of enjoying fireworks to emphasize that my aim is not to ruin the fun but to ask us to think before we shoot and consider the veterans near us for whom our recreation may cause unnecessary distress. Fourth of July would not have been possible without the soldiers who fought and died in the American Revolution and all the conflicts since. We owe it to all who have worn the uniform for the United States of America to remember the extraordinary toll it has taken on their ability to live ordinary lives. Like General Washington, we should vow to end the wars that wounded them so future generations will be able to join in celebrating Independence Day.

My first wish is to see this plague to Mankind, war, banished from the Earth; & the Sons and daughters of this World employed in more pleasing & innocent amusements than in preparing implements, & exercising them for the destruction of the human race.

General George Washington¹

When I was a child, every Fourth of July holiday my father would take me to the military fireworks display at Fort Sam Houston in Texas. We would take our place in the long cascade of cars parked at the huge parade ground in front of Brooke Army Medical Center. It was the most spectacular display of the year not to be found anywhere else in the city. Army fire engines and medics were always on site in case anything went wrong, which rarely occurred thanks to the pyrotechnic experts who ran the display.

Later, when I began my psychiatric residency at the US Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) New Mexico Healthcare System, I quickly learned a darker truth about fireworks. What seemed to me and many other civilians in General Washington’s words, a “pleasing and innocent amusement,” instead was a distressing and terrifying revisiting of trauma for many service members and veterans, likely including my father, who was a World War II combat veteran.

Fireworks are so closely linked to the birth of our young nation that we often forget they were invented in China a millennia ago. Fireworks were first associated with the fledgling nation in the middle of the War of Independence. On July 4, 1776, representatives of the 13 colonies signed the Declaration of Independence. In one of several ironies of history, what was used at the initial commemorations was not fireworks but the very “implements of destruction,” to use Washington’s phrase—guns and cannons. The demonstrations of firepower were meant to be morale boosters. After the war, the dangers of the detonations were recognized, and firearms were replaced with the fireworks we still launch today.²

The country celebrates the holiday with cookouts, parades, brass band concerts, and of course fireworks. Added to the organized shows are the millions of citizens who demonstrate private patriotism by shooting off fireworks in their neighborhoods. In 2021, Americans spent $1.5 billion on fireworks, and 33% said they planned to attend a public display.³

However, people are increasingly recognizing the negative side of fireworks for wild and companion animals and the environment. Most of us who have dogs and I am sure cats, horses, and other animals dread the impending darkness of the Fourth as it signals the coming loud noise and the cringing, pacing animals who want to run yet have nowhere to go to be safe from the sound.⁴

Sitting in the clinic with veterans, I realized it was not only pets and wildlife that feared the ultimate American holiday but also the very individuals who fought to preserve the freedom those fireworks celebrate. The VA’s National Center for Posttraumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) estimates that about 7% of veterans will meet the diagnostic criteria for PTSD in their lifetimes. The prevalence of PTSD differs, depending on the methodology used, era and type of services, and demographics. Some studies have found higher rates of PTSD in women, young veterans, and those who served in Vietnam. Among the veterans who receive health care at the VA, like those I saw in the clinic, 23 in 1000 may have PTSD.⁵

We, after all, are remarkably similar in physiology to other mammals, and not surprisingly, veterans with PTSD exhibit many of the same reactions to fireworks. The sights, sounds, and odor of fireworks, as well as the vocal responses of the crowd at large displays evoke memories that trigger fear and anxiety. Many veterans experience flashbacks in which they relive combat and training accidents and have nightmares of those events, interrupting sleep. The instinct of many veterans is to avoid the holiday altogether: Many patients I knew sought refuge in remote mountain campsites often to find that even there they were not safe from revelers.

Avoidance being a cardinal symptom and coping mechanism of PTSD, therapists advise other methods of managing the Fourth of July, such as distractions that are calming and people who are reassuring. Therapists often rehearse self-talk scripts and teach breathing exercises targeted to break the behavioral conditioning that links present innocuous sensory overstimulation with a past life-threatening danger. The heat of summer worsens the stress, cooling down literally and figuratively can help.⁶

Many VA medical centers send announcements to the media or have their experts do interviews to educate the public about the potentially traumatizing effects of fireworks. They also encourage veterans who are apprehensive about the holiday to seek additional mental health help, including the Veterans Crisis Line. With my patients, we started early and developed a preventive plan to manage the anticipatory apprehension and arrange a means of enduring the ordeal. I do not have data to prove it, but anecdotally I know from my years on-call that visits to VA emergency departments and admissions to our inpatient psychiatry unit always increased around Independence Day in part because some veterans used drugs and/or alcohol to dampen their stress response.

VA experts also have advice for the families and friends of veterans who want to reduce the impact of fireworks and other holiday activities on them. Many veterans will feel at once intensely present to the disturbing aspects like fireworks and crowds and at the same time, distant and separated from the more positive parts of celebrations like being with loved ones in the outdoors. We can simply ask the veterans in our lives and neighborhoods how the festivities affect them and how we can help them get through the long hot night.⁷ Yet it would not be America without some controversy, and opinions are divided even among veterans about whether yard signs that say, “Combat Veteran Lives Here Please Be Courteous With Fireworks” enhance or impede the effort to increase awareness of the connection between fireworks, veterans, and PTSD.⁸

This editorial began with my own story of enjoying fireworks to emphasize that my aim is not to ruin the fun but to ask us to think before we shoot and consider the veterans near us for whom our recreation may cause unnecessary distress. Fourth of July would not have been possible without the soldiers who fought and died in the American Revolution and all the conflicts since. We owe it to all who have worn the uniform for the United States of America to remember the extraordinary toll it has taken on their ability to live ordinary lives. Like General Washington, we should vow to end the wars that wounded them so future generations will be able to join in celebrating Independence Day.

Growing up I can remember my father telling stories of service members in the medical battalion he commanded in World War II (WWII) who after the war with his encouragement and their GI Bill educational benefits went to school to become doctors, nurses, and dentists. They were among the 2,300,000 veterans who attended US colleges and universities through the Servicemen’s Readjustment Act passed in 1944. The American Legion navigated the bill through the twists and turns of congressional support, and it was one of their leaders who invented the catchy GI Bill shorthand.²

As with most political legislation, there were mixed motives driving passage of the act, and like many policies in America, the primary impetus was economic. While the war was raging overseas, at home the US Department of Labor predicted that by the war’s end, 16 million service members would be jobless. Apprehensive about the prospect of yet another financial depression, in 1943 a White House agency recommended that the federal government fund education and training for the individuals who had served during the war.²

While troops stormed the beaches of Normandy, wartime President Franklin D. Roosevelt (FDR) signed the bill that delivered not only educational and training opportunities for service members and veterans, but also funded home loans and US Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) hospitals. The bill was practical in that it provided not only tuition, but also books, supplies, a living stipend, and counseling for the students. The bill technically expired in 1956, but a series of extensions and expansions has been true to the original intention to offer those who served their nation in the military a better life as citizens.

Articles describing the impact of the GI Bill use terms like life changing and transformative.^3,4 Our contemporary culture makes it difficult to imagine how out of reach a college education was for the generation that fought WWII. Universities were primarily for the rich and connected, the powerful and privileged. Were it not for the upward social mobility the GI Bill propelled, the American dream would not have become a reality for many farmers, small town merchants, and factory workers. The GI Bill though could not by itself ensure equity. The systemic racism endemic in the United States and among the elected representatives who debated the bill resulted in many Black service members especially in the South being denied entrance to institutions of higher learning.⁵ Despite this invidious discrimination, the bill was a profound effort to help many other service members to successfully reintegrate into the society they had preserved and defended.⁴

“With the signing of this bill, a well-rounded program of special veterans’ benefits is nearly completed,” FDR said, capturing its noble intent: “It gives emphatic notice to the men and women in our armed forces that the American people do not intend to let them down.”⁶

Regrettably, we have not kept FDR’s pledge. Now unscrupulous businesses are preying on the aspirations of military personnel and veterans for an education and thwarting their ability to seek gainful employment. For more than a decade, respected news media have reported that for-profit universities were exploiting service members trying to improve their lives through obtaining a college education via the GI Bill.⁷ The sad irony is that what enabled the exploitation to occur was a major expansion of the benefits under the Post-9/11 GI Bill. This version granted educational funding to any individual who had served on active duty for 90 days or more after September 10, 2001.⁸ Federal law prohibits for-profit educational institutions from receiving more than 90% of their total revenue from federal student aid. A loophole in the law enabled these institutions to categorize GI Bill funding as private not government dollars. Bad old American greed drove these for-profit colleges and universities to aggressively recruit veterans who trusted in the good faith of the academic institutions. Once the GI Bill monies were exhausted, veterans had already invested so much time and energy in a degree or certificate, the schools could persuade them to take out student loans with the promise of job placement assistance that never materialized. They took advantage of the veterans’ hopes to fatten their own bottom line in the face of declining enrolments.⁹ Journalists, government, think tank reports, and even a documentary described the tragic stories of service members left unemployed with immense debt and degrees that to many of them were now worthless.¹⁰

After years of reporters exposing the scam and politically thwarted efforts to stop it, Congress and President Biden closed what was known as the 90/10 loophole. This ended the weaponization of education it had promoted. In October 2022, the US Department of Education announced its final rule to prohibit the widespread educational fraud that had betrayed so many veterans and service members, which Secretary Dennis McDonough described as “abuse.”¹¹Some readers may wonder why I have devoted an editorial to a topic that seems somewhat distant from the health care that is the primary domain of Federal Practitioner. It happens that education is in closer proximity to health for our patients than many of us might have realized. A 2018 Military Medicine study found that veterans who took advantage of the educational opportunities of the GI Bill had better health and reduced smoking, among other benefits.¹² This connection between health and education should serve as a source of pride for all of us in federal practice as we are part of organizations that affirm the holistic concept of health that embraces not just medicine but education, housing, and other services essential for comprehensive well-being.

Growing up I can remember my father telling stories of service members in the medical battalion he commanded in World War II (WWII) who after the war with his encouragement and their GI Bill educational benefits went to school to become doctors, nurses, and dentists. They were among the 2,300,000 veterans who attended US colleges and universities through the Servicemen’s Readjustment Act passed in 1944. The American Legion navigated the bill through the twists and turns of congressional support, and it was one of their leaders who invented the catchy GI Bill shorthand.²

As with most political legislation, there were mixed motives driving passage of the act, and like many policies in America, the primary impetus was economic. While the war was raging overseas, at home the US Department of Labor predicted that by the war’s end, 16 million service members would be jobless. Apprehensive about the prospect of yet another financial depression, in 1943 a White House agency recommended that the federal government fund education and training for the individuals who had served during the war.²

While troops stormed the beaches of Normandy, wartime President Franklin D. Roosevelt (FDR) signed the bill that delivered not only educational and training opportunities for service members and veterans, but also funded home loans and US Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) hospitals. The bill was practical in that it provided not only tuition, but also books, supplies, a living stipend, and counseling for the students. The bill technically expired in 1956, but a series of extensions and expansions has been true to the original intention to offer those who served their nation in the military a better life as citizens.

Articles describing the impact of the GI Bill use terms like life changing and transformative.^3,4 Our contemporary culture makes it difficult to imagine how out of reach a college education was for the generation that fought WWII. Universities were primarily for the rich and connected, the powerful and privileged. Were it not for the upward social mobility the GI Bill propelled, the American dream would not have become a reality for many farmers, small town merchants, and factory workers. The GI Bill though could not by itself ensure equity. The systemic racism endemic in the United States and among the elected representatives who debated the bill resulted in many Black service members especially in the South being denied entrance to institutions of higher learning.⁵ Despite this invidious discrimination, the bill was a profound effort to help many other service members to successfully reintegrate into the society they had preserved and defended.⁴

“With the signing of this bill, a well-rounded program of special veterans’ benefits is nearly completed,” FDR said, capturing its noble intent: “It gives emphatic notice to the men and women in our armed forces that the American people do not intend to let them down.”⁶

Regrettably, we have not kept FDR’s pledge. Now unscrupulous businesses are preying on the aspirations of military personnel and veterans for an education and thwarting their ability to seek gainful employment. For more than a decade, respected news media have reported that for-profit universities were exploiting service members trying to improve their lives through obtaining a college education via the GI Bill.⁷ The sad irony is that what enabled the exploitation to occur was a major expansion of the benefits under the Post-9/11 GI Bill. This version granted educational funding to any individual who had served on active duty for 90 days or more after September 10, 2001.⁸ Federal law prohibits for-profit educational institutions from receiving more than 90% of their total revenue from federal student aid. A loophole in the law enabled these institutions to categorize GI Bill funding as private not government dollars. Bad old American greed drove these for-profit colleges and universities to aggressively recruit veterans who trusted in the good faith of the academic institutions. Once the GI Bill monies were exhausted, veterans had already invested so much time and energy in a degree or certificate, the schools could persuade them to take out student loans with the promise of job placement assistance that never materialized. They took advantage of the veterans’ hopes to fatten their own bottom line in the face of declining enrolments.⁹ Journalists, government, think tank reports, and even a documentary described the tragic stories of service members left unemployed with immense debt and degrees that to many of them were now worthless.¹⁰

After years of reporters exposing the scam and politically thwarted efforts to stop it, Congress and President Biden closed what was known as the 90/10 loophole. This ended the weaponization of education it had promoted. In October 2022, the US Department of Education announced its final rule to prohibit the widespread educational fraud that had betrayed so many veterans and service members, which Secretary Dennis McDonough described as “abuse.”¹¹Some readers may wonder why I have devoted an editorial to a topic that seems somewhat distant from the health care that is the primary domain of Federal Practitioner. It happens that education is in closer proximity to health for our patients than many of us might have realized. A 2018 Military Medicine study found that veterans who took advantage of the educational opportunities of the GI Bill had better health and reduced smoking, among other benefits.¹² This connection between health and education should serve as a source of pride for all of us in federal practice as we are part of organizations that affirm the holistic concept of health that embraces not just medicine but education, housing, and other services essential for comprehensive well-being.

Growing up I can remember my father telling stories of service members in the medical battalion he commanded in World War II (WWII) who after the war with his encouragement and their GI Bill educational benefits went to school to become doctors, nurses, and dentists. They were among the 2,300,000 veterans who attended US colleges and universities through the Servicemen’s Readjustment Act passed in 1944. The American Legion navigated the bill through the twists and turns of congressional support, and it was one of their leaders who invented the catchy GI Bill shorthand.²

As with most political legislation, there were mixed motives driving passage of the act, and like many policies in America, the primary impetus was economic. While the war was raging overseas, at home the US Department of Labor predicted that by the war’s end, 16 million service members would be jobless. Apprehensive about the prospect of yet another financial depression, in 1943 a White House agency recommended that the federal government fund education and training for the individuals who had served during the war.²

While troops stormed the beaches of Normandy, wartime President Franklin D. Roosevelt (FDR) signed the bill that delivered not only educational and training opportunities for service members and veterans, but also funded home loans and US Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) hospitals. The bill was practical in that it provided not only tuition, but also books, supplies, a living stipend, and counseling for the students. The bill technically expired in 1956, but a series of extensions and expansions has been true to the original intention to offer those who served their nation in the military a better life as citizens.

Articles describing the impact of the GI Bill use terms like life changing and transformative.^3,4 Our contemporary culture makes it difficult to imagine how out of reach a college education was for the generation that fought WWII. Universities were primarily for the rich and connected, the powerful and privileged. Were it not for the upward social mobility the GI Bill propelled, the American dream would not have become a reality for many farmers, small town merchants, and factory workers. The GI Bill though could not by itself ensure equity. The systemic racism endemic in the United States and among the elected representatives who debated the bill resulted in many Black service members especially in the South being denied entrance to institutions of higher learning.⁵ Despite this invidious discrimination, the bill was a profound effort to help many other service members to successfully reintegrate into the society they had preserved and defended.⁴

“With the signing of this bill, a well-rounded program of special veterans’ benefits is nearly completed,” FDR said, capturing its noble intent: “It gives emphatic notice to the men and women in our armed forces that the American people do not intend to let them down.”⁶

Regrettably, we have not kept FDR’s pledge. Now unscrupulous businesses are preying on the aspirations of military personnel and veterans for an education and thwarting their ability to seek gainful employment. For more than a decade, respected news media have reported that for-profit universities were exploiting service members trying to improve their lives through obtaining a college education via the GI Bill.⁷ The sad irony is that what enabled the exploitation to occur was a major expansion of the benefits under the Post-9/11 GI Bill. This version granted educational funding to any individual who had served on active duty for 90 days or more after September 10, 2001.⁸ Federal law prohibits for-profit educational institutions from receiving more than 90% of their total revenue from federal student aid. A loophole in the law enabled these institutions to categorize GI Bill funding as private not government dollars. Bad old American greed drove these for-profit colleges and universities to aggressively recruit veterans who trusted in the good faith of the academic institutions. Once the GI Bill monies were exhausted, veterans had already invested so much time and energy in a degree or certificate, the schools could persuade them to take out student loans with the promise of job placement assistance that never materialized. They took advantage of the veterans’ hopes to fatten their own bottom line in the face of declining enrolments.⁹ Journalists, government, think tank reports, and even a documentary described the tragic stories of service members left unemployed with immense debt and degrees that to many of them were now worthless.¹⁰

After years of reporters exposing the scam and politically thwarted efforts to stop it, Congress and President Biden closed what was known as the 90/10 loophole. This ended the weaponization of education it had promoted. In October 2022, the US Department of Education announced its final rule to prohibit the widespread educational fraud that had betrayed so many veterans and service members, which Secretary Dennis McDonough described as “abuse.”¹¹Some readers may wonder why I have devoted an editorial to a topic that seems somewhat distant from the health care that is the primary domain of Federal Practitioner. It happens that education is in closer proximity to health for our patients than many of us might have realized. A 2018 Military Medicine study found that veterans who took advantage of the educational opportunities of the GI Bill had better health and reduced smoking, among other benefits.¹² This connection between health and education should serve as a source of pride for all of us in federal practice as we are part of organizations that affirm the holistic concept of health that embraces not just medicine but education, housing, and other services essential for comprehensive well-being.

Regular readers of Federal Practitioner may recall that I have had a tradition of dedicating the last column of the year to an ethics rendition of the popular trope of the annual best and worst. This year we will examine the stories of 2 military physicians through the lens of virtue ethics. Aristotle (384-322 bce), arguably the most famous Western philosopher, is the acknowledged founder of virtue ethics.

Virtue ethics is among the oldest of ethical theories, and Aristotle articulates this school of thought in his work Nicomachean Ethics.² It is a good fit for Federal Practitioner as it has been constructively applied to the moral development of both military³ and medical professionals.⁴

Here is a Reader’s Digest version of virtue theory with apologizes to all the real philosophers out there. There are different ways to categorize ethical theories. One approach is to distinguish them based on the aspects of primary interest. Consequentialist ethics theories are concerned with the outcomes of actions. Deontologic theories emphasize the intention of the moral agent. In contrast, virtue ethics theories focus on the character of a person. The virtuous individual is one who has practiced the habits of moral excellence and embodies the good life. They are honored as heroes and revered as saints; they are the exemplars we imitate in our aspirations.³

The epigraph sums up one of Aristotle’s central philosophical doctrines: the close relationship of ethics and politics.¹ Personal virtue is intelligible only in the context of community and aim, and the goal of virtue is to contribute to human happiness.⁵ War, whether in ancient Greece or modern Europe, is among the forces most inimical to human flourishing. The current war in Ukraine that has united much of the Western world in opposition to tyranny has divided the 2 physicians in our story along the normative lines of virtue ethics.

The doctor of virtue: Michael Siclari, MD. A 71-year-old US Department of Veterans Affairs physician, Siclari had previously served in the military as a National Guard physician during Operation Enduring Freedom (2001-2014) in Afghanistan. He decided to serve again in Ukraine. Siclari expressed his reasons for going to Ukraine in the language of what Aristotle thought was among the highest virtues: justice. “In retrospect, as I think about why I wanted to go to Ukraine, I think it’s more of a sense that I thought an injustice was happening.”⁷

Echoing the great Rabbi Hillel, Siclari saw the Russian invasion of Ukraine as a personal call to use his experience and training as a trauma and emergency medicine physician to help the Ukrainian people. “If not me, then who?” Siclari demonstrated another virtue: generosity in taking 10 days of personal leave in August 2022 to make the trip to Ukraine, hoping to work in a combat zone tending to wounded soldiers as he had in Afghanistan. When due to logistics he instead was assigned to care for refugees and assist with evacuations from the battlefield, he humbly and compassionately cared for those in his charge. Even now, back home, he speaks to audiences of health care professionals encouraging them to consider similar acts of altruism.⁵

Virtue for Aristotle is technically defined as the mean between 2 extremes of disposition or temperament. The virtue of courage is found in the moral middle ground between the deficiency of bravery that is cowardice and the vice of excess of reckless abandon. The former person fears too much and the latter too little and both thus exhibit vicious behavior.

The doctor of vice: James Lee Henry. Henry is a major and internal medicine physician in the United States Army stationed at Fort Bragg, headquarters of the US Army Special Operations Command. Along with his wife Anna Gabrielian, a civilian anesthesiologist, he was charged in September with conspiring to divulge the protected health information of American military and government employees to the Russian government.⁸ According to the Grand Jury indictment, Henry delivered into the hands of an undercover Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) agent, the medical records of a US Army officer, Department of Defense employee, and the spouses of 3 Army veterans, 2 of whom were deceased.⁹ In a gross twisting of virtue language, Gabrielian explained her motivation for the couple’s espionage in terms of sacrifice and loyalty. In an antipode of Siclari’s service, Henry purportedly wanted to join the Russian army but did not have the requisite combat experience. For his part, Henry’s abysmal defense of his betrayal of his country and his oath speaks for itself, if the United States were to declare war on Russia, Henry told the FBI agent, “at that point, I’ll have some ethical issues I have to work through.”⁸

We become virtuous people through imitating the example of those who have perfected the habits of moral excellence. During 2022, 2 federal practitioners responded to the challenge of war: one displayed the zenith of virtue, the other exhibited the nadir of vice. Seldom does a single year present us with such clear choices of who and how we want to be in 2023. American culture has so trivialized New Year’s resolutions that they are no longer substantive enough for the weight of the profound question of what constitutes the good life. Rather let us make a commitment in keeping with such morally serious matters. All of us live as mixed creatures, drawn to virtue and prone to vice. May we all strive this coming year to help each other meet the high bar another great man of virtue Abraham Lincoln set in his first inaugural address, to be the “better angels of our natures.”¹⁰

Regular readers of Federal Practitioner may recall that I have had a tradition of dedicating the last column of the year to an ethics rendition of the popular trope of the annual best and worst. This year we will examine the stories of 2 military physicians through the lens of virtue ethics. Aristotle (384-322 bce), arguably the most famous Western philosopher, is the acknowledged founder of virtue ethics.

Virtue ethics is among the oldest of ethical theories, and Aristotle articulates this school of thought in his work Nicomachean Ethics.² It is a good fit for Federal Practitioner as it has been constructively applied to the moral development of both military³ and medical professionals.⁴

Here is a Reader’s Digest version of virtue theory with apologizes to all the real philosophers out there. There are different ways to categorize ethical theories. One approach is to distinguish them based on the aspects of primary interest. Consequentialist ethics theories are concerned with the outcomes of actions. Deontologic theories emphasize the intention of the moral agent. In contrast, virtue ethics theories focus on the character of a person. The virtuous individual is one who has practiced the habits of moral excellence and embodies the good life. They are honored as heroes and revered as saints; they are the exemplars we imitate in our aspirations.³

The epigraph sums up one of Aristotle’s central philosophical doctrines: the close relationship of ethics and politics.¹ Personal virtue is intelligible only in the context of community and aim, and the goal of virtue is to contribute to human happiness.⁵ War, whether in ancient Greece or modern Europe, is among the forces most inimical to human flourishing. The current war in Ukraine that has united much of the Western world in opposition to tyranny has divided the 2 physicians in our story along the normative lines of virtue ethics.

The doctor of virtue: Michael Siclari, MD. A 71-year-old US Department of Veterans Affairs physician, Siclari had previously served in the military as a National Guard physician during Operation Enduring Freedom (2001-2014) in Afghanistan. He decided to serve again in Ukraine. Siclari expressed his reasons for going to Ukraine in the language of what Aristotle thought was among the highest virtues: justice. “In retrospect, as I think about why I wanted to go to Ukraine, I think it’s more of a sense that I thought an injustice was happening.”⁷

Echoing the great Rabbi Hillel, Siclari saw the Russian invasion of Ukraine as a personal call to use his experience and training as a trauma and emergency medicine physician to help the Ukrainian people. “If not me, then who?” Siclari demonstrated another virtue: generosity in taking 10 days of personal leave in August 2022 to make the trip to Ukraine, hoping to work in a combat zone tending to wounded soldiers as he had in Afghanistan. When due to logistics he instead was assigned to care for refugees and assist with evacuations from the battlefield, he humbly and compassionately cared for those in his charge. Even now, back home, he speaks to audiences of health care professionals encouraging them to consider similar acts of altruism.⁵

Virtue for Aristotle is technically defined as the mean between 2 extremes of disposition or temperament. The virtue of courage is found in the moral middle ground between the deficiency of bravery that is cowardice and the vice of excess of reckless abandon. The former person fears too much and the latter too little and both thus exhibit vicious behavior.

The doctor of vice: James Lee Henry. Henry is a major and internal medicine physician in the United States Army stationed at Fort Bragg, headquarters of the US Army Special Operations Command. Along with his wife Anna Gabrielian, a civilian anesthesiologist, he was charged in September with conspiring to divulge the protected health information of American military and government employees to the Russian government.⁸ According to the Grand Jury indictment, Henry delivered into the hands of an undercover Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) agent, the medical records of a US Army officer, Department of Defense employee, and the spouses of 3 Army veterans, 2 of whom were deceased.⁹ In a gross twisting of virtue language, Gabrielian explained her motivation for the couple’s espionage in terms of sacrifice and loyalty. In an antipode of Siclari’s service, Henry purportedly wanted to join the Russian army but did not have the requisite combat experience. For his part, Henry’s abysmal defense of his betrayal of his country and his oath speaks for itself, if the United States were to declare war on Russia, Henry told the FBI agent, “at that point, I’ll have some ethical issues I have to work through.”⁸

We become virtuous people through imitating the example of those who have perfected the habits of moral excellence. During 2022, 2 federal practitioners responded to the challenge of war: one displayed the zenith of virtue, the other exhibited the nadir of vice. Seldom does a single year present us with such clear choices of who and how we want to be in 2023. American culture has so trivialized New Year’s resolutions that they are no longer substantive enough for the weight of the profound question of what constitutes the good life. Rather let us make a commitment in keeping with such morally serious matters. All of us live as mixed creatures, drawn to virtue and prone to vice. May we all strive this coming year to help each other meet the high bar another great man of virtue Abraham Lincoln set in his first inaugural address, to be the “better angels of our natures.”¹⁰

Regular readers of Federal Practitioner may recall that I have had a tradition of dedicating the last column of the year to an ethics rendition of the popular trope of the annual best and worst. This year we will examine the stories of 2 military physicians through the lens of virtue ethics. Aristotle (384-322 bce), arguably the most famous Western philosopher, is the acknowledged founder of virtue ethics.

Virtue ethics is among the oldest of ethical theories, and Aristotle articulates this school of thought in his work Nicomachean Ethics.² It is a good fit for Federal Practitioner as it has been constructively applied to the moral development of both military³ and medical professionals.⁴

Here is a Reader’s Digest version of virtue theory with apologizes to all the real philosophers out there. There are different ways to categorize ethical theories. One approach is to distinguish them based on the aspects of primary interest. Consequentialist ethics theories are concerned with the outcomes of actions. Deontologic theories emphasize the intention of the moral agent. In contrast, virtue ethics theories focus on the character of a person. The virtuous individual is one who has practiced the habits of moral excellence and embodies the good life. They are honored as heroes and revered as saints; they are the exemplars we imitate in our aspirations.³

The epigraph sums up one of Aristotle’s central philosophical doctrines: the close relationship of ethics and politics.¹ Personal virtue is intelligible only in the context of community and aim, and the goal of virtue is to contribute to human happiness.⁵ War, whether in ancient Greece or modern Europe, is among the forces most inimical to human flourishing. The current war in Ukraine that has united much of the Western world in opposition to tyranny has divided the 2 physicians in our story along the normative lines of virtue ethics.

The doctor of virtue: Michael Siclari, MD. A 71-year-old US Department of Veterans Affairs physician, Siclari had previously served in the military as a National Guard physician during Operation Enduring Freedom (2001-2014) in Afghanistan. He decided to serve again in Ukraine. Siclari expressed his reasons for going to Ukraine in the language of what Aristotle thought was among the highest virtues: justice. “In retrospect, as I think about why I wanted to go to Ukraine, I think it’s more of a sense that I thought an injustice was happening.”⁷

Echoing the great Rabbi Hillel, Siclari saw the Russian invasion of Ukraine as a personal call to use his experience and training as a trauma and emergency medicine physician to help the Ukrainian people. “If not me, then who?” Siclari demonstrated another virtue: generosity in taking 10 days of personal leave in August 2022 to make the trip to Ukraine, hoping to work in a combat zone tending to wounded soldiers as he had in Afghanistan. When due to logistics he instead was assigned to care for refugees and assist with evacuations from the battlefield, he humbly and compassionately cared for those in his charge. Even now, back home, he speaks to audiences of health care professionals encouraging them to consider similar acts of altruism.⁵

Virtue for Aristotle is technically defined as the mean between 2 extremes of disposition or temperament. The virtue of courage is found in the moral middle ground between the deficiency of bravery that is cowardice and the vice of excess of reckless abandon. The former person fears too much and the latter too little and both thus exhibit vicious behavior.

The doctor of vice: James Lee Henry. Henry is a major and internal medicine physician in the United States Army stationed at Fort Bragg, headquarters of the US Army Special Operations Command. Along with his wife Anna Gabrielian, a civilian anesthesiologist, he was charged in September with conspiring to divulge the protected health information of American military and government employees to the Russian government.⁸ According to the Grand Jury indictment, Henry delivered into the hands of an undercover Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) agent, the medical records of a US Army officer, Department of Defense employee, and the spouses of 3 Army veterans, 2 of whom were deceased.⁹ In a gross twisting of virtue language, Gabrielian explained her motivation for the couple’s espionage in terms of sacrifice and loyalty. In an antipode of Siclari’s service, Henry purportedly wanted to join the Russian army but did not have the requisite combat experience. For his part, Henry’s abysmal defense of his betrayal of his country and his oath speaks for itself, if the United States were to declare war on Russia, Henry told the FBI agent, “at that point, I’ll have some ethical issues I have to work through.”⁸

We become virtuous people through imitating the example of those who have perfected the habits of moral excellence. During 2022, 2 federal practitioners responded to the challenge of war: one displayed the zenith of virtue, the other exhibited the nadir of vice. Seldom does a single year present us with such clear choices of who and how we want to be in 2023. American culture has so trivialized New Year’s resolutions that they are no longer substantive enough for the weight of the profound question of what constitutes the good life. Rather let us make a commitment in keeping with such morally serious matters. All of us live as mixed creatures, drawn to virtue and prone to vice. May we all strive this coming year to help each other meet the high bar another great man of virtue Abraham Lincoln set in his first inaugural address, to be the “better angels of our natures.”¹⁰

This Veterans Day we honor the passing of the largest expansion of veterans benefits and services in history. On August 10, 2022, President Biden signed the Sergeant First Class Heath Robinson Honoring our Promise to Address Comprehensive Toxics (PACT) Act. This act was named for a combat medic who died of a rare form of lung cancer believed to be the result of a toxic military exposure. His widow was present during the President's State of the Union address that urged Congress to pass the legislation.² 

Like all other congressional bills and government regulations, the PACT Act is complex in its details and still a work in progress. Simply put, the PACT Act expands and/or extends enrollment for a group of previously ineligible veterans. Eligibility will no longer require that veterans demonstrate a service-connected disability due to toxic exposure, including those from burn pits. This has long been a barrier for many veterans seeking benefits and not just related to toxic exposures. Logistical barriers and documentary losses have prevented many service members from establishing a clean chain of evidence for the injuries or illnesses they sustained while in uniform.
 
The new process is a massive step forward by the US Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) to establish high standards of procedural justice for settling beneficiary claims. The PACT Act removes the burden from the shoulders of the veteran and places it squarely on the VA to demonstrate that > 20 different medical conditions--primarily cancers and respiratory illnesses--are linked to toxic exposure. The VA must establish that exposure occurred to cohorts of service members in specific theaters and time frames. A veteran who served in that area and period and has one of the indexed illnesses is presumed to have been exposed in the line of duty.^3,4

As a result, the VA instituted a new screening process to determine that toxic military exposures (a) led to illness; and (b) both exposure and illness are connected to service. According to the VA, the new process is evidence based, transparent, and allows the VA to fast-track policy decisions related to exposures. The PACT Act includes a provision intended to promote sustained implementation and prevent the program from succumbing as so many new initiatives have to inadequate adoption. VA is required to deploy its considerable internal research capacity to collaborate with external partners in and outside government to study military members with toxic exposures.⁴ 

Congress had initially proposed that the provisions of the PACT ACT would take effect in 2026, providing time to ramp up the process. The White House and VA telescoped that time line so veterans can begin now to apply for benefits that they could foreseeably receive in 2023. However, a long-standing problem for the VA has been unfunded agency or congressional mandates. These have often end in undermining the legislative intention or policy purpose of the program undermining their legislative intention or policy purpose through staffing shortages, leading to lack of or delayed access. The PACT Act promises to eschew the infamous Phoenix problem by providing increased personnel, training infrastructure, and technology resources for both the Veterans Benefit Administration and the Veterans Health Administration. Ironically, many seasoned VA observers expect the PACT expansion will lead to even larger backlogs of claims as hundreds of newly eligible veterans are added to the extant rolls of those seeking benefits.⁵ 

An estimated 1 in 5 veterans may be entitled to PACT benefits. The PACT Act is the latest of a long uneven movement toward distributive justice for veteran benefits and services. It is fitting in the month of Veterans Day 2022 to trace that trajectory. Congress first passed veteran benefits legislation in 1917, focused on soldiers with disabilities. This resulted in a massive investment in building hospitals. Ironically, part of the impetus for VA health care was an earlier toxic military exposure. World War I service members suffered from the detrimental effects of mustard gas among other chemical byproducts. In 1924, VA benefits and services underwent a momentous opening to include individuals with non-service-connected disabilities. Four years later, the VA tent became even bigger, welcoming women, National Guard, and militia members to receive care under its auspices.⁶ 

The PACT Act is a fitting memorial for Veterans Day as an increasingly divided country presents a unified response to veterans and their survivors exposed to a variety of toxins across multiple wars. The PACT Act was hard won with veterans and their advocates having to fight years of political bickering, government abdication of accountability, and scientific sparring before this bipartisan legislation passed.⁷ It covers Vietnam War veterans with several conditions due to Agent Orange exposure; Gulf War and post-9/11 veterans with cancer and respiratory conditions; and the service members deployed to Afghanistan and Iraq afflicted with illnesses due to the smoke of burn pits and other toxins. 

As many areas of the country roll back LGBTQ+ rights to health care and social services, the VA has emerged as a leader in the movement for diversity and inclusion. VA Secretary McDonough provided a pathway to VA eligibility for other than honorably discharged veterans, including those LGBTQ+ persons discharged under Don't Ask, Don't Tell.⁸ Lest we take this new inclusivity for granted, we should never forget that this journey toward equity for the military and VA has been long, slow, and uneven. There are many difficult miles yet to travel if we are to achieve liberty and justice for veteran members of racial minorities, women, and other marginalized populations. Even the PACT Act does not cover all putative exposures to toxins.⁹ Yet it is a significant step closer to fulfilling the motto of the VA LGBTQ+ program: to serve all who served.¹⁰ 

This Veterans Day we honor the passing of the largest expansion of veterans benefits and services in history. On August 10, 2022, President Biden signed the Sergeant First Class Heath Robinson Honoring our Promise to Address Comprehensive Toxics (PACT) Act. This act was named for a combat medic who died of a rare form of lung cancer believed to be the result of a toxic military exposure. His widow was present during the President's State of the Union address that urged Congress to pass the legislation.² 

Like all other congressional bills and government regulations, the PACT Act is complex in its details and still a work in progress. Simply put, the PACT Act expands and/or extends enrollment for a group of previously ineligible veterans. Eligibility will no longer require that veterans demonstrate a service-connected disability due to toxic exposure, including those from burn pits. This has long been a barrier for many veterans seeking benefits and not just related to toxic exposures. Logistical barriers and documentary losses have prevented many service members from establishing a clean chain of evidence for the injuries or illnesses they sustained while in uniform.
 
The new process is a massive step forward by the US Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) to establish high standards of procedural justice for settling beneficiary claims. The PACT Act removes the burden from the shoulders of the veteran and places it squarely on the VA to demonstrate that > 20 different medical conditions--primarily cancers and respiratory illnesses--are linked to toxic exposure. The VA must establish that exposure occurred to cohorts of service members in specific theaters and time frames. A veteran who served in that area and period and has one of the indexed illnesses is presumed to have been exposed in the line of duty.^3,4

As a result, the VA instituted a new screening process to determine that toxic military exposures (a) led to illness; and (b) both exposure and illness are connected to service. According to the VA, the new process is evidence based, transparent, and allows the VA to fast-track policy decisions related to exposures. The PACT Act includes a provision intended to promote sustained implementation and prevent the program from succumbing as so many new initiatives have to inadequate adoption. VA is required to deploy its considerable internal research capacity to collaborate with external partners in and outside government to study military members with toxic exposures.⁴ 

Congress had initially proposed that the provisions of the PACT ACT would take effect in 2026, providing time to ramp up the process. The White House and VA telescoped that time line so veterans can begin now to apply for benefits that they could foreseeably receive in 2023. However, a long-standing problem for the VA has been unfunded agency or congressional mandates. These have often end in undermining the legislative intention or policy purpose of the program undermining their legislative intention or policy purpose through staffing shortages, leading to lack of or delayed access. The PACT Act promises to eschew the infamous Phoenix problem by providing increased personnel, training infrastructure, and technology resources for both the Veterans Benefit Administration and the Veterans Health Administration. Ironically, many seasoned VA observers expect the PACT expansion will lead to even larger backlogs of claims as hundreds of newly eligible veterans are added to the extant rolls of those seeking benefits.⁵ 

An estimated 1 in 5 veterans may be entitled to PACT benefits. The PACT Act is the latest of a long uneven movement toward distributive justice for veteran benefits and services. It is fitting in the month of Veterans Day 2022 to trace that trajectory. Congress first passed veteran benefits legislation in 1917, focused on soldiers with disabilities. This resulted in a massive investment in building hospitals. Ironically, part of the impetus for VA health care was an earlier toxic military exposure. World War I service members suffered from the detrimental effects of mustard gas among other chemical byproducts. In 1924, VA benefits and services underwent a momentous opening to include individuals with non-service-connected disabilities. Four years later, the VA tent became even bigger, welcoming women, National Guard, and militia members to receive care under its auspices.⁶ 

The PACT Act is a fitting memorial for Veterans Day as an increasingly divided country presents a unified response to veterans and their survivors exposed to a variety of toxins across multiple wars. The PACT Act was hard won with veterans and their advocates having to fight years of political bickering, government abdication of accountability, and scientific sparring before this bipartisan legislation passed.⁷ It covers Vietnam War veterans with several conditions due to Agent Orange exposure; Gulf War and post-9/11 veterans with cancer and respiratory conditions; and the service members deployed to Afghanistan and Iraq afflicted with illnesses due to the smoke of burn pits and other toxins. 

As many areas of the country roll back LGBTQ+ rights to health care and social services, the VA has emerged as a leader in the movement for diversity and inclusion. VA Secretary McDonough provided a pathway to VA eligibility for other than honorably discharged veterans, including those LGBTQ+ persons discharged under Don't Ask, Don't Tell.⁸ Lest we take this new inclusivity for granted, we should never forget that this journey toward equity for the military and VA has been long, slow, and uneven. There are many difficult miles yet to travel if we are to achieve liberty and justice for veteran members of racial minorities, women, and other marginalized populations. Even the PACT Act does not cover all putative exposures to toxins.⁹ Yet it is a significant step closer to fulfilling the motto of the VA LGBTQ+ program: to serve all who served.¹⁰ 

This Veterans Day we honor the passing of the largest expansion of veterans benefits and services in history. On August 10, 2022, President Biden signed the Sergeant First Class Heath Robinson Honoring our Promise to Address Comprehensive Toxics (PACT) Act. This act was named for a combat medic who died of a rare form of lung cancer believed to be the result of a toxic military exposure. His widow was present during the President's State of the Union address that urged Congress to pass the legislation.² 

Like all other congressional bills and government regulations, the PACT Act is complex in its details and still a work in progress. Simply put, the PACT Act expands and/or extends enrollment for a group of previously ineligible veterans. Eligibility will no longer require that veterans demonstrate a service-connected disability due to toxic exposure, including those from burn pits. This has long been a barrier for many veterans seeking benefits and not just related to toxic exposures. Logistical barriers and documentary losses have prevented many service members from establishing a clean chain of evidence for the injuries or illnesses they sustained while in uniform.
 
The new process is a massive step forward by the US Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) to establish high standards of procedural justice for settling beneficiary claims. The PACT Act removes the burden from the shoulders of the veteran and places it squarely on the VA to demonstrate that > 20 different medical conditions--primarily cancers and respiratory illnesses--are linked to toxic exposure. The VA must establish that exposure occurred to cohorts of service members in specific theaters and time frames. A veteran who served in that area and period and has one of the indexed illnesses is presumed to have been exposed in the line of duty.^3,4

As a result, the VA instituted a new screening process to determine that toxic military exposures (a) led to illness; and (b) both exposure and illness are connected to service. According to the VA, the new process is evidence based, transparent, and allows the VA to fast-track policy decisions related to exposures. The PACT Act includes a provision intended to promote sustained implementation and prevent the program from succumbing as so many new initiatives have to inadequate adoption. VA is required to deploy its considerable internal research capacity to collaborate with external partners in and outside government to study military members with toxic exposures.⁴ 

Congress had initially proposed that the provisions of the PACT ACT would take effect in 2026, providing time to ramp up the process. The White House and VA telescoped that time line so veterans can begin now to apply for benefits that they could foreseeably receive in 2023. However, a long-standing problem for the VA has been unfunded agency or congressional mandates. These have often end in undermining the legislative intention or policy purpose of the program undermining their legislative intention or policy purpose through staffing shortages, leading to lack of or delayed access. The PACT Act promises to eschew the infamous Phoenix problem by providing increased personnel, training infrastructure, and technology resources for both the Veterans Benefit Administration and the Veterans Health Administration. Ironically, many seasoned VA observers expect the PACT expansion will lead to even larger backlogs of claims as hundreds of newly eligible veterans are added to the extant rolls of those seeking benefits.⁵ 

An estimated 1 in 5 veterans may be entitled to PACT benefits. The PACT Act is the latest of a long uneven movement toward distributive justice for veteran benefits and services. It is fitting in the month of Veterans Day 2022 to trace that trajectory. Congress first passed veteran benefits legislation in 1917, focused on soldiers with disabilities. This resulted in a massive investment in building hospitals. Ironically, part of the impetus for VA health care was an earlier toxic military exposure. World War I service members suffered from the detrimental effects of mustard gas among other chemical byproducts. In 1924, VA benefits and services underwent a momentous opening to include individuals with non-service-connected disabilities. Four years later, the VA tent became even bigger, welcoming women, National Guard, and militia members to receive care under its auspices.⁶ 

The PACT Act is a fitting memorial for Veterans Day as an increasingly divided country presents a unified response to veterans and their survivors exposed to a variety of toxins across multiple wars. The PACT Act was hard won with veterans and their advocates having to fight years of political bickering, government abdication of accountability, and scientific sparring before this bipartisan legislation passed.⁷ It covers Vietnam War veterans with several conditions due to Agent Orange exposure; Gulf War and post-9/11 veterans with cancer and respiratory conditions; and the service members deployed to Afghanistan and Iraq afflicted with illnesses due to the smoke of burn pits and other toxins. 

As many areas of the country roll back LGBTQ+ rights to health care and social services, the VA has emerged as a leader in the movement for diversity and inclusion. VA Secretary McDonough provided a pathway to VA eligibility for other than honorably discharged veterans, including those LGBTQ+ persons discharged under Don't Ask, Don't Tell.⁸ Lest we take this new inclusivity for granted, we should never forget that this journey toward equity for the military and VA has been long, slow, and uneven. There are many difficult miles yet to travel if we are to achieve liberty and justice for veteran members of racial minorities, women, and other marginalized populations. Even the PACT Act does not cover all putative exposures to toxins.⁹ Yet it is a significant step closer to fulfilling the motto of the VA LGBTQ+ program: to serve all who served.¹⁰ 

In 2019 the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency invested $27 million in the Focused Pharma program to develop new, more efficacious, rapid-acting drugs, including hallucinogens.¹ While Focused Pharma does not include human studies, the Veterans Health Administration’s (VHA) newly launched psychedelics program research does include clinical trials.² When I read of these ambitious projects, I recalled 2 prescient memories from my youth.

The first memory was of a dinner table conversation between my father, then chief of pediatrics at a military hospital, and one of my older brothers, a burgeoning hippie. My father mentioned that the military was doing research on lysergic acid diethylamide (LSD), and my brother asked whether he could bring some home for my brother to try. My father looked up from the dinner table with incredulity and in an ironic monotone replied, “No you would not qualify for the research, you are not in the Army.”

The second was about 10 years later, when I visited the state psychiatric hospital where my father directed the adolescent ward. I saw a group of young adults watching test patterns on an old-fashioned television set. When I asked my father what was wrong with them, he shook his head and said, “Too much LSD.”

Albert Hoffman was a Sandoz chemist when in 1938 he serendipitously developed LSD while working on a fungus that grew on grain. LSD’s psychoactive properties were not discovered until 1943. About a decade later, as the Cold War chilled international relations, the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) began conducting experiments on military personnel in the MKUltra program using LSD, electroshock, hypnosis, and other techniques to develop a mind control program before its rivals did.³

Beginning in the 1950s, the US government collaborated with pharmaceutical companies and research universities to develop LSD as part of a campaign of psychological warfare. Though planned to be used against enemies, the program instead exploited US service members to develop hallucinogens as a form of chemical warfare that could render enemy troops mentally incapacitated. That psychiatrists, who then (as now) led much of this research, raised a host of ethical concerns about dual roles, disclosure, and duty.⁴

Government investigations and academic studies have shown that even soldiers who volunteered for the research were not given adequate information about the nature of the experiments and the potential adverse effects, such as persisting flashbacks. The military’s research on LSD ended in 1963, not because of the unethical aspects of the research, but because the effects of LSD were so unpredictable that the drug could not be effectively weaponized. Like Tuskegee and other research abuses of the time, when the MKUltra program was exposed, there were congressional investigations.⁵ Later studies found that many of the active-duty research subjects experienced a plethora of lasting and serious psychiatric symptoms. VHA practitioners had to put back together many of these broken service members. This program was rife with violations of research ethics and human rights, and those abuses tainted the field of hallucinogenic research in US Department of Defense (DoD) and VHA circles for decades.⁵ These research abuses, in part, have led to hallucinogens being categorized as Schedule I controlled substances, effectively blocking federal funding for research until recently.

LSD, Psilocybin (4-phosphoryloxy-N,N-dimethyltryptamine), and 3,4-methylenedioxy-methamphetamine (MDMA), popularly known as psychedelics, are again receiving attention. However, the current investigations into psychedelics are vastly different—scientifically and ethically. The most important difference is that the context and leadership of these studies is not national security—it is health care.

The goal of this new wave of psychedelic research is not mind control or brain alteration, but liberation of the mind from cycles of rumination and trauma and empowerment to change patterns of self-destruction to affirmation of life. The impetus for this research is not international espionage but to find better treatments for chronic posttraumatic stress disorder, severe substance use disorders, and treatment-resistant depression that contribute to unquantifiable mental pain, psychosocial dysfunction, and an epidemic of suicide among military service members and veterans.⁶ Though we have some effective treatments for these often combat-inflicted maladies—primarily evidence-based psychotherapies—yet these treatments are not tolerable or safe, fast-acting, or long-lasting enough to succor each and every troubled soul. The success of ketamine, a dissociative drug, in relieving the most distressing service-connected psychiatric diagnoses has provided a proof of concept to reinvigorate the moribund hallucinogenic research idea.⁷

This dark chapter in US military research is a cautionary tale. The often quoted and more often ignored advice of the Spanish American philosopher George Santayana, “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it,” should serve as the guiding principle of the new hallucinogenic research.⁸ Human subjects’ protections have exponentially improved since the days of the secret LSD project even for active-duty personnel. The Common Rule governs that all research participants are given adequate information that includes whatever is known about the risks and benefits of the research.¹⁰ Participants must provide full and free informed consent to enroll in these clinical trials, a consent that encompasses the right to withdraw from the research at any time without jeopardizing their careers, benefits, or ongoing health care.¹⁰

These rules, though, can be bent, broken, avoided, or worked around. Only the moral integrity of study personnel, administrators, oversight agencies, research compliance officers, and most important, principal investigators can assure that the rules are upheld and the rights they guarantee are respected.⁹ It would be a tragic shame if the promised hope for the relief of psychic pain went unrealized due to media hype, shared desperation of clinicians and patients, and conflicts of interests that today are more likely to come from profit-driven pharmaceutical companies than national security agencies. And for all of us in federal practice, remembering the sordid past forays with LSD can redeem the present research so future service members and veterans and the clinicians who care for them have better balms to heal the wounds of war.

In 2019 the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency invested $27 million in the Focused Pharma program to develop new, more efficacious, rapid-acting drugs, including hallucinogens.¹ While Focused Pharma does not include human studies, the Veterans Health Administration’s (VHA) newly launched psychedelics program research does include clinical trials.² When I read of these ambitious projects, I recalled 2 prescient memories from my youth.

The first memory was of a dinner table conversation between my father, then chief of pediatrics at a military hospital, and one of my older brothers, a burgeoning hippie. My father mentioned that the military was doing research on lysergic acid diethylamide (LSD), and my brother asked whether he could bring some home for my brother to try. My father looked up from the dinner table with incredulity and in an ironic monotone replied, “No you would not qualify for the research, you are not in the Army.”

The second was about 10 years later, when I visited the state psychiatric hospital where my father directed the adolescent ward. I saw a group of young adults watching test patterns on an old-fashioned television set. When I asked my father what was wrong with them, he shook his head and said, “Too much LSD.”

Albert Hoffman was a Sandoz chemist when in 1938 he serendipitously developed LSD while working on a fungus that grew on grain. LSD’s psychoactive properties were not discovered until 1943. About a decade later, as the Cold War chilled international relations, the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) began conducting experiments on military personnel in the MKUltra program using LSD, electroshock, hypnosis, and other techniques to develop a mind control program before its rivals did.³

Beginning in the 1950s, the US government collaborated with pharmaceutical companies and research universities to develop LSD as part of a campaign of psychological warfare. Though planned to be used against enemies, the program instead exploited US service members to develop hallucinogens as a form of chemical warfare that could render enemy troops mentally incapacitated. That psychiatrists, who then (as now) led much of this research, raised a host of ethical concerns about dual roles, disclosure, and duty.⁴

Government investigations and academic studies have shown that even soldiers who volunteered for the research were not given adequate information about the nature of the experiments and the potential adverse effects, such as persisting flashbacks. The military’s research on LSD ended in 1963, not because of the unethical aspects of the research, but because the effects of LSD were so unpredictable that the drug could not be effectively weaponized. Like Tuskegee and other research abuses of the time, when the MKUltra program was exposed, there were congressional investigations.⁵ Later studies found that many of the active-duty research subjects experienced a plethora of lasting and serious psychiatric symptoms. VHA practitioners had to put back together many of these broken service members. This program was rife with violations of research ethics and human rights, and those abuses tainted the field of hallucinogenic research in US Department of Defense (DoD) and VHA circles for decades.⁵ These research abuses, in part, have led to hallucinogens being categorized as Schedule I controlled substances, effectively blocking federal funding for research until recently.

LSD, Psilocybin (4-phosphoryloxy-N,N-dimethyltryptamine), and 3,4-methylenedioxy-methamphetamine (MDMA), popularly known as psychedelics, are again receiving attention. However, the current investigations into psychedelics are vastly different—scientifically and ethically. The most important difference is that the context and leadership of these studies is not national security—it is health care.

The goal of this new wave of psychedelic research is not mind control or brain alteration, but liberation of the mind from cycles of rumination and trauma and empowerment to change patterns of self-destruction to affirmation of life. The impetus for this research is not international espionage but to find better treatments for chronic posttraumatic stress disorder, severe substance use disorders, and treatment-resistant depression that contribute to unquantifiable mental pain, psychosocial dysfunction, and an epidemic of suicide among military service members and veterans.⁶ Though we have some effective treatments for these often combat-inflicted maladies—primarily evidence-based psychotherapies—yet these treatments are not tolerable or safe, fast-acting, or long-lasting enough to succor each and every troubled soul. The success of ketamine, a dissociative drug, in relieving the most distressing service-connected psychiatric diagnoses has provided a proof of concept to reinvigorate the moribund hallucinogenic research idea.⁷

This dark chapter in US military research is a cautionary tale. The often quoted and more often ignored advice of the Spanish American philosopher George Santayana, “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it,” should serve as the guiding principle of the new hallucinogenic research.⁸ Human subjects’ protections have exponentially improved since the days of the secret LSD project even for active-duty personnel. The Common Rule governs that all research participants are given adequate information that includes whatever is known about the risks and benefits of the research.¹⁰ Participants must provide full and free informed consent to enroll in these clinical trials, a consent that encompasses the right to withdraw from the research at any time without jeopardizing their careers, benefits, or ongoing health care.¹⁰

These rules, though, can be bent, broken, avoided, or worked around. Only the moral integrity of study personnel, administrators, oversight agencies, research compliance officers, and most important, principal investigators can assure that the rules are upheld and the rights they guarantee are respected.⁹ It would be a tragic shame if the promised hope for the relief of psychic pain went unrealized due to media hype, shared desperation of clinicians and patients, and conflicts of interests that today are more likely to come from profit-driven pharmaceutical companies than national security agencies. And for all of us in federal practice, remembering the sordid past forays with LSD can redeem the present research so future service members and veterans and the clinicians who care for them have better balms to heal the wounds of war.

In 2019 the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency invested $27 million in the Focused Pharma program to develop new, more efficacious, rapid-acting drugs, including hallucinogens.¹ While Focused Pharma does not include human studies, the Veterans Health Administration’s (VHA) newly launched psychedelics program research does include clinical trials.² When I read of these ambitious projects, I recalled 2 prescient memories from my youth.

The first memory was of a dinner table conversation between my father, then chief of pediatrics at a military hospital, and one of my older brothers, a burgeoning hippie. My father mentioned that the military was doing research on lysergic acid diethylamide (LSD), and my brother asked whether he could bring some home for my brother to try. My father looked up from the dinner table with incredulity and in an ironic monotone replied, “No you would not qualify for the research, you are not in the Army.”

The second was about 10 years later, when I visited the state psychiatric hospital where my father directed the adolescent ward. I saw a group of young adults watching test patterns on an old-fashioned television set. When I asked my father what was wrong with them, he shook his head and said, “Too much LSD.”

Albert Hoffman was a Sandoz chemist when in 1938 he serendipitously developed LSD while working on a fungus that grew on grain. LSD’s psychoactive properties were not discovered until 1943. About a decade later, as the Cold War chilled international relations, the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) began conducting experiments on military personnel in the MKUltra program using LSD, electroshock, hypnosis, and other techniques to develop a mind control program before its rivals did.³

Beginning in the 1950s, the US government collaborated with pharmaceutical companies and research universities to develop LSD as part of a campaign of psychological warfare. Though planned to be used against enemies, the program instead exploited US service members to develop hallucinogens as a form of chemical warfare that could render enemy troops mentally incapacitated. That psychiatrists, who then (as now) led much of this research, raised a host of ethical concerns about dual roles, disclosure, and duty.⁴

Government investigations and academic studies have shown that even soldiers who volunteered for the research were not given adequate information about the nature of the experiments and the potential adverse effects, such as persisting flashbacks. The military’s research on LSD ended in 1963, not because of the unethical aspects of the research, but because the effects of LSD were so unpredictable that the drug could not be effectively weaponized. Like Tuskegee and other research abuses of the time, when the MKUltra program was exposed, there were congressional investigations.⁵ Later studies found that many of the active-duty research subjects experienced a plethora of lasting and serious psychiatric symptoms. VHA practitioners had to put back together many of these broken service members. This program was rife with violations of research ethics and human rights, and those abuses tainted the field of hallucinogenic research in US Department of Defense (DoD) and VHA circles for decades.⁵ These research abuses, in part, have led to hallucinogens being categorized as Schedule I controlled substances, effectively blocking federal funding for research until recently.

LSD, Psilocybin (4-phosphoryloxy-N,N-dimethyltryptamine), and 3,4-methylenedioxy-methamphetamine (MDMA), popularly known as psychedelics, are again receiving attention. However, the current investigations into psychedelics are vastly different—scientifically and ethically. The most important difference is that the context and leadership of these studies is not national security—it is health care.

The goal of this new wave of psychedelic research is not mind control or brain alteration, but liberation of the mind from cycles of rumination and trauma and empowerment to change patterns of self-destruction to affirmation of life. The impetus for this research is not international espionage but to find better treatments for chronic posttraumatic stress disorder, severe substance use disorders, and treatment-resistant depression that contribute to unquantifiable mental pain, psychosocial dysfunction, and an epidemic of suicide among military service members and veterans.⁶ Though we have some effective treatments for these often combat-inflicted maladies—primarily evidence-based psychotherapies—yet these treatments are not tolerable or safe, fast-acting, or long-lasting enough to succor each and every troubled soul. The success of ketamine, a dissociative drug, in relieving the most distressing service-connected psychiatric diagnoses has provided a proof of concept to reinvigorate the moribund hallucinogenic research idea.⁷

This dark chapter in US military research is a cautionary tale. The often quoted and more often ignored advice of the Spanish American philosopher George Santayana, “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it,” should serve as the guiding principle of the new hallucinogenic research.⁸ Human subjects’ protections have exponentially improved since the days of the secret LSD project even for active-duty personnel. The Common Rule governs that all research participants are given adequate information that includes whatever is known about the risks and benefits of the research.¹⁰ Participants must provide full and free informed consent to enroll in these clinical trials, a consent that encompasses the right to withdraw from the research at any time without jeopardizing their careers, benefits, or ongoing health care.¹⁰

These rules, though, can be bent, broken, avoided, or worked around. Only the moral integrity of study personnel, administrators, oversight agencies, research compliance officers, and most important, principal investigators can assure that the rules are upheld and the rights they guarantee are respected.⁹ It would be a tragic shame if the promised hope for the relief of psychic pain went unrealized due to media hype, shared desperation of clinicians and patients, and conflicts of interests that today are more likely to come from profit-driven pharmaceutical companies than national security agencies. And for all of us in federal practice, remembering the sordid past forays with LSD can redeem the present research so future service members and veterans and the clinicians who care for them have better balms to heal the wounds of war.

In June, an intense heatwave moved across the United States. According to the National Weather Service, about 50 million Americans were warned of excessively hot temperatures. In the Southwest, dozens of cities broke temperature records, and in New Mexico, my home state, terrible wildfires ravaged thousands of acres. Nor will the rest of the country be spared as the dome of heat is expected to move into the Midwest and even the Northeast before it is done.² The ongoing COVID-19 pandemic and the heatwaves exacerbate each other.

The US Global Change Research Program studies the adverse effects of high temperatures on human health. High ambient heat is associated with cardiovascular, respiratory, renal, metabolic, vector- and food-borne illnesses, and malnutrition.³ Veterans, especially those who are older or homeless, are considered heat-vulnerable populations more susceptible to sunstroke, dehydration, and heat exhaustion. Last July, during record-breaking heat in many large cities, US Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) Secretary McDonough emphasized the availability of community and VA resources for veterans experiencing high temperatures, especially those who were homeless.⁴

The Veterans Health Administration (VHA) also reached out to service members who were deployed to the baking deserts of Iraq and Afghanistan, advising them that they may experience service-related heat stroke or exhaustion.⁵ Today’s military confronts many challenges in training troops in hot temperatures at home and in combat overseas.⁶ The 2019 report from the advocacy and research organization, the Union of Concerned Scientists (UCS) reported the need to ensure the preparedness of the fighting force and that increasing temperatures from climate change will make it harder to balance this mission with protecting the health of service members. The study estimated there were 17 heat-related deaths and a 60% jump in heat-related injuries in the previous decade. More worrisome, UCS predicted that if the temperature trend is not abated, by 2050, military bases will experience an additional month where the heat index will feel like it is 100 °F or more.⁷

In comparison, less attention has been focused on the adverse effects of high temperatures on mental health. Most of us recognize that too many hot days in the height of summer may cause fatigue, impatience, restlessness, and difficulty concentrating. A 2018 systematic review reported a strong association between high ambient temperature and suicide.⁸ Suicide has been among the highest public health priorities in the VHA and the military. There is also evidence of the correlation between emergency department (ED) visits for mental health conditions in non-VA hospitals and scorching days and sweltering nights. An analysis of data of > 3 million ED visits involving > 2 million insured patients revealed increased ED visits during periods of extreme heat for stress, substance use, somatoform, anxiety, mood, schizophrenia, schizotypal and delusional disorders, as well as self-harming behaviors. The association is likely even stronger in service members. The largest study ever conducted on the mental health of service members, the Army Study to Assess Risk and Resilience in Servicemembers (ARMY STARRS), found higher rates of mental health disorders than in the civilian population.⁹

What is the clinical science behind this long-established link between heat and mental health disorders? High temperatures disrupt sleep, interfere with memory and attention, and increase irritability and depression especially in persons with extant mental health disorders. Individuals with schizophrenia may have difficulty with temperature regulation, a problem antipsychotic and antidepressant medications may exacerbate. Extreme heat leads to extreme behavior, including domestic violence, chemical coping, and aggression. Individuals diagnosed with dementia may lack the mental wherewithal and economic resources to prepare for and respond to extreme heat, leading to higher morbidity and mortality.^10,11 The so called heat hypothesis holds that extreme high temperatures increase hostile feelings and aggressive thoughts that trigger other directed violence.¹²

For many, summer is the most enjoyable time of year “when the livin’ is easy,” as the George Gershwin song claims. We can relax in air-conditioned homes or sit by a swimming pool, sipping iced tea. As federal practitioners, and even more as humans, we need to realize that our patients, those on active duty, veterans, and the underserved populations who are the mission of the US Commissioned Corps and the Indian Health Service, are not as fortunate. As temperatures climb, we must redouble our efforts to educate our patients about the dangers of extreme heat and advocate for policies and procedures in our respective federal agencies that will positively impact climate change.

During clinical encounters with patients with mental health conditions, we should be mindful of the potential increase in substance use, suicidal ideation, aggressive impulses, and medication adverse effects when temperatures are high. Most important, we must raise awareness and participate in public health initiatives to ensure that populations whose prior service, current duty, or health disparities place them at greater risk of harm from increasing temperatures have access to shelter, cooling, food, health care, psychosocial services, and mental health treatment.

In June, an intense heatwave moved across the United States. According to the National Weather Service, about 50 million Americans were warned of excessively hot temperatures. In the Southwest, dozens of cities broke temperature records, and in New Mexico, my home state, terrible wildfires ravaged thousands of acres. Nor will the rest of the country be spared as the dome of heat is expected to move into the Midwest and even the Northeast before it is done.² The ongoing COVID-19 pandemic and the heatwaves exacerbate each other.

The US Global Change Research Program studies the adverse effects of high temperatures on human health. High ambient heat is associated with cardiovascular, respiratory, renal, metabolic, vector- and food-borne illnesses, and malnutrition.³ Veterans, especially those who are older or homeless, are considered heat-vulnerable populations more susceptible to sunstroke, dehydration, and heat exhaustion. Last July, during record-breaking heat in many large cities, US Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) Secretary McDonough emphasized the availability of community and VA resources for veterans experiencing high temperatures, especially those who were homeless.⁴

The Veterans Health Administration (VHA) also reached out to service members who were deployed to the baking deserts of Iraq and Afghanistan, advising them that they may experience service-related heat stroke or exhaustion.⁵ Today’s military confronts many challenges in training troops in hot temperatures at home and in combat overseas.⁶ The 2019 report from the advocacy and research organization, the Union of Concerned Scientists (UCS) reported the need to ensure the preparedness of the fighting force and that increasing temperatures from climate change will make it harder to balance this mission with protecting the health of service members. The study estimated there were 17 heat-related deaths and a 60% jump in heat-related injuries in the previous decade. More worrisome, UCS predicted that if the temperature trend is not abated, by 2050, military bases will experience an additional month where the heat index will feel like it is 100 °F or more.⁷

In comparison, less attention has been focused on the adverse effects of high temperatures on mental health. Most of us recognize that too many hot days in the height of summer may cause fatigue, impatience, restlessness, and difficulty concentrating. A 2018 systematic review reported a strong association between high ambient temperature and suicide.⁸ Suicide has been among the highest public health priorities in the VHA and the military. There is also evidence of the correlation between emergency department (ED) visits for mental health conditions in non-VA hospitals and scorching days and sweltering nights. An analysis of data of > 3 million ED visits involving > 2 million insured patients revealed increased ED visits during periods of extreme heat for stress, substance use, somatoform, anxiety, mood, schizophrenia, schizotypal and delusional disorders, as well as self-harming behaviors. The association is likely even stronger in service members. The largest study ever conducted on the mental health of service members, the Army Study to Assess Risk and Resilience in Servicemembers (ARMY STARRS), found higher rates of mental health disorders than in the civilian population.⁹

What is the clinical science behind this long-established link between heat and mental health disorders? High temperatures disrupt sleep, interfere with memory and attention, and increase irritability and depression especially in persons with extant mental health disorders. Individuals with schizophrenia may have difficulty with temperature regulation, a problem antipsychotic and antidepressant medications may exacerbate. Extreme heat leads to extreme behavior, including domestic violence, chemical coping, and aggression. Individuals diagnosed with dementia may lack the mental wherewithal and economic resources to prepare for and respond to extreme heat, leading to higher morbidity and mortality.^10,11 The so called heat hypothesis holds that extreme high temperatures increase hostile feelings and aggressive thoughts that trigger other directed violence.¹²

For many, summer is the most enjoyable time of year “when the livin’ is easy,” as the George Gershwin song claims. We can relax in air-conditioned homes or sit by a swimming pool, sipping iced tea. As federal practitioners, and even more as humans, we need to realize that our patients, those on active duty, veterans, and the underserved populations who are the mission of the US Commissioned Corps and the Indian Health Service, are not as fortunate. As temperatures climb, we must redouble our efforts to educate our patients about the dangers of extreme heat and advocate for policies and procedures in our respective federal agencies that will positively impact climate change.

During clinical encounters with patients with mental health conditions, we should be mindful of the potential increase in substance use, suicidal ideation, aggressive impulses, and medication adverse effects when temperatures are high. Most important, we must raise awareness and participate in public health initiatives to ensure that populations whose prior service, current duty, or health disparities place them at greater risk of harm from increasing temperatures have access to shelter, cooling, food, health care, psychosocial services, and mental health treatment.

In June, an intense heatwave moved across the United States. According to the National Weather Service, about 50 million Americans were warned of excessively hot temperatures. In the Southwest, dozens of cities broke temperature records, and in New Mexico, my home state, terrible wildfires ravaged thousands of acres. Nor will the rest of the country be spared as the dome of heat is expected to move into the Midwest and even the Northeast before it is done.² The ongoing COVID-19 pandemic and the heatwaves exacerbate each other.

The US Global Change Research Program studies the adverse effects of high temperatures on human health. High ambient heat is associated with cardiovascular, respiratory, renal, metabolic, vector- and food-borne illnesses, and malnutrition.³ Veterans, especially those who are older or homeless, are considered heat-vulnerable populations more susceptible to sunstroke, dehydration, and heat exhaustion. Last July, during record-breaking heat in many large cities, US Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) Secretary McDonough emphasized the availability of community and VA resources for veterans experiencing high temperatures, especially those who were homeless.⁴

The Veterans Health Administration (VHA) also reached out to service members who were deployed to the baking deserts of Iraq and Afghanistan, advising them that they may experience service-related heat stroke or exhaustion.⁵ Today’s military confronts many challenges in training troops in hot temperatures at home and in combat overseas.⁶ The 2019 report from the advocacy and research organization, the Union of Concerned Scientists (UCS) reported the need to ensure the preparedness of the fighting force and that increasing temperatures from climate change will make it harder to balance this mission with protecting the health of service members. The study estimated there were 17 heat-related deaths and a 60% jump in heat-related injuries in the previous decade. More worrisome, UCS predicted that if the temperature trend is not abated, by 2050, military bases will experience an additional month where the heat index will feel like it is 100 °F or more.⁷

In comparison, less attention has been focused on the adverse effects of high temperatures on mental health. Most of us recognize that too many hot days in the height of summer may cause fatigue, impatience, restlessness, and difficulty concentrating. A 2018 systematic review reported a strong association between high ambient temperature and suicide.⁸ Suicide has been among the highest public health priorities in the VHA and the military. There is also evidence of the correlation between emergency department (ED) visits for mental health conditions in non-VA hospitals and scorching days and sweltering nights. An analysis of data of > 3 million ED visits involving > 2 million insured patients revealed increased ED visits during periods of extreme heat for stress, substance use, somatoform, anxiety, mood, schizophrenia, schizotypal and delusional disorders, as well as self-harming behaviors. The association is likely even stronger in service members. The largest study ever conducted on the mental health of service members, the Army Study to Assess Risk and Resilience in Servicemembers (ARMY STARRS), found higher rates of mental health disorders than in the civilian population.⁹

What is the clinical science behind this long-established link between heat and mental health disorders? High temperatures disrupt sleep, interfere with memory and attention, and increase irritability and depression especially in persons with extant mental health disorders. Individuals with schizophrenia may have difficulty with temperature regulation, a problem antipsychotic and antidepressant medications may exacerbate. Extreme heat leads to extreme behavior, including domestic violence, chemical coping, and aggression. Individuals diagnosed with dementia may lack the mental wherewithal and economic resources to prepare for and respond to extreme heat, leading to higher morbidity and mortality.^10,11 The so called heat hypothesis holds that extreme high temperatures increase hostile feelings and aggressive thoughts that trigger other directed violence.¹²

For many, summer is the most enjoyable time of year “when the livin’ is easy,” as the George Gershwin song claims. We can relax in air-conditioned homes or sit by a swimming pool, sipping iced tea. As federal practitioners, and even more as humans, we need to realize that our patients, those on active duty, veterans, and the underserved populations who are the mission of the US Commissioned Corps and the Indian Health Service, are not as fortunate. As temperatures climb, we must redouble our efforts to educate our patients about the dangers of extreme heat and advocate for policies and procedures in our respective federal agencies that will positively impact climate change.

During clinical encounters with patients with mental health conditions, we should be mindful of the potential increase in substance use, suicidal ideation, aggressive impulses, and medication adverse effects when temperatures are high. Most important, we must raise awareness and participate in public health initiatives to ensure that populations whose prior service, current duty, or health disparities place them at greater risk of harm from increasing temperatures have access to shelter, cooling, food, health care, psychosocial services, and mental health treatment.

Contemporary critiques of Memorial and Veterans Day celebrations have emphasized that while ceremonies and celebrations are culturally requisite means of demonstrating a society’s respect and gratitude for those who gave their lives and health in the country’s cause—it is not enough. These holidays have immense symbolic significance to remind the nation of the sacrifice of those who bore arms in its service. An enduring and substantive impact on veterans will require real work done on their behalf. Through its representative institutions, such as the US Departments of Defense (DoD) and Veterans Affairs (VA) and citizens’ voluntary efforts, the public must provide practical assistance to veterans and their families.²

Memorial Day honors our sacred dead who lost their lives defending freedom. In federal practice and the larger community, we are duty-bound to try and restore the things war took from these wounded warriors and in whatever measure is possible to return them to the land of the fully living. Except in memory, we cannot bring back the dead. And while life is the most precious gift, those who survived the battlefield too often lose much that matters to a meaningful human life—friends, family, livelihood, housing, self-worth, peace of heart, soundness of mind, and health of the body.

One such recent initiative of reclamation is the Green Alert. Readers are likely familiar with Amber alerts for abducted children and Silver Alerts for older adults often with cognitive impairment who are lost. The Green Alert is a similar program deploying media and law enforcement to search for missing veterans believed to be vulnerable to harm because of a medical or psychiatric illness related to their service.

In 2017 Wisconsin became the first state to pass Green Alert legislation. The Missing Veterans at Risk Act lists 2 criteria that trigger a Green Alert: There is a reason to believe that the veteran at risk is missing due to a physical or mental health condition or that the veteran at risk is missing due to a physical or mental health condition. Relevant to the readers of Federal Practitioner, in Wisconsin, Green Alerts can be issued on behalf of missing veterans, and active-duty guard and reserve members and thus cover almost all the ranks of US military service.³ When law enforcement receives a report of a missing veteran as defined in the act within 72 hours of their disappearance, a Green Alert is issued. The statute directs the US Department of Justice to permit law enforcement to access the crime notification network to notify the media to broadcast pertinent information about the missing veteran.

As of this writing, Delaware, Kentucky, Connecticut, and Texas have passed similar laws, and legislatures in other states are considering bills, as is Congress.⁴ The sponsorship of the National Green Alert Act is bipartisan. Its stated purpose is: to develop interagency Green Alert systems that would be used when a veteran “goes missing” and “for other purposes.”⁵

The program’s potential to reduce the number of veterans who die by suicide every day has understandably attracted the attention of legislators and the public.⁶ The Cost of War project disclosed the terrible irony that at least 4 times as many post-9/11 service members died by suicide as perished in the combat that Memorial Day traditionally commemorates.⁷ As with many veteran-related laws, the initial Green Alert in Wisconsin was borne out of tragedy and passed through the heroic advocacy of bereaved and outraged family members.⁸ The DoD and VA, Congress, veterans service organizations, and the loved ones of servicemembers desperately want to turn this devastating tide of self-destruction through any means possible.

It seems almost a blasphemous betrayal of our public trust to raise ethical questions about Green Alerts. Yet that must happen if we ensure that these laws achieve their intended aims of preventing harm. For many veterans, these laws may indeed be lifesaving. However, a 2019 National Public Radio report suggested that these laws may, in some cases, result in several unintended harms.⁹ On first reading, it is worthy, even our duty, to extend the public health safety net for children who are victims of abduction and individuals with dementia to vulnerable veterans secondary to the mental and physical wounds of service.

When the service member is located, the alert is canceled. Nevertheless, their data remains in all the protean forms of media now available. In these searches for service members thought to be lost, there is a risk of violating their privacy if too much protected health information is made widely public. These breaches of confidentiality can further exacerbate the already too prevalent stigmatization of mental illness in the military, which has been a formidable obstacle to persuading those in uniform to seek treatment.¹⁰ As J.R.R. Tolkien has noted, not every person who “wanders” is lost.¹ A veteran may leave his home for some period, even without notifying anyone, without being in grave and imminent danger. The diagnoses we health care professionals assign to patients are wide conceptual nets full of empirical holes: they are poorly predictive and protective mechanisms.¹¹ A broadly written or vague law leaves latitude for bias, discrimination, liability, and fear to drive decisions that to be ethically justifiable require consistency, transparency, equity, and expertise. Much more research is needed to develop situational awareness, scientific accuracy, and clinical reliability to understand when, how, and for whom Green Alerts are genuinely beneficial.

These are not insurmountable questions. The experts and stakeholders appointed to the interagency committee the national Green Alert proposes will work to address these problems. Yet, unless they and we look bravely at the thorny issues these laudable laws present, it will be challenging to achieve their purpose to safeguard the dignity, safety, as well as autonomy and well-being of service members.

Contemporary critiques of Memorial and Veterans Day celebrations have emphasized that while ceremonies and celebrations are culturally requisite means of demonstrating a society’s respect and gratitude for those who gave their lives and health in the country’s cause—it is not enough. These holidays have immense symbolic significance to remind the nation of the sacrifice of those who bore arms in its service. An enduring and substantive impact on veterans will require real work done on their behalf. Through its representative institutions, such as the US Departments of Defense (DoD) and Veterans Affairs (VA) and citizens’ voluntary efforts, the public must provide practical assistance to veterans and their families.²

Memorial Day honors our sacred dead who lost their lives defending freedom. In federal practice and the larger community, we are duty-bound to try and restore the things war took from these wounded warriors and in whatever measure is possible to return them to the land of the fully living. Except in memory, we cannot bring back the dead. And while life is the most precious gift, those who survived the battlefield too often lose much that matters to a meaningful human life—friends, family, livelihood, housing, self-worth, peace of heart, soundness of mind, and health of the body.

One such recent initiative of reclamation is the Green Alert. Readers are likely familiar with Amber alerts for abducted children and Silver Alerts for older adults often with cognitive impairment who are lost. The Green Alert is a similar program deploying media and law enforcement to search for missing veterans believed to be vulnerable to harm because of a medical or psychiatric illness related to their service.

In 2017 Wisconsin became the first state to pass Green Alert legislation. The Missing Veterans at Risk Act lists 2 criteria that trigger a Green Alert: There is a reason to believe that the veteran at risk is missing due to a physical or mental health condition or that the veteran at risk is missing due to a physical or mental health condition. Relevant to the readers of Federal Practitioner, in Wisconsin, Green Alerts can be issued on behalf of missing veterans, and active-duty guard and reserve members and thus cover almost all the ranks of US military service.³ When law enforcement receives a report of a missing veteran as defined in the act within 72 hours of their disappearance, a Green Alert is issued. The statute directs the US Department of Justice to permit law enforcement to access the crime notification network to notify the media to broadcast pertinent information about the missing veteran.

As of this writing, Delaware, Kentucky, Connecticut, and Texas have passed similar laws, and legislatures in other states are considering bills, as is Congress.⁴ The sponsorship of the National Green Alert Act is bipartisan. Its stated purpose is: to develop interagency Green Alert systems that would be used when a veteran “goes missing” and “for other purposes.”⁵

The program’s potential to reduce the number of veterans who die by suicide every day has understandably attracted the attention of legislators and the public.⁶ The Cost of War project disclosed the terrible irony that at least 4 times as many post-9/11 service members died by suicide as perished in the combat that Memorial Day traditionally commemorates.⁷ As with many veteran-related laws, the initial Green Alert in Wisconsin was borne out of tragedy and passed through the heroic advocacy of bereaved and outraged family members.⁸ The DoD and VA, Congress, veterans service organizations, and the loved ones of servicemembers desperately want to turn this devastating tide of self-destruction through any means possible.

It seems almost a blasphemous betrayal of our public trust to raise ethical questions about Green Alerts. Yet that must happen if we ensure that these laws achieve their intended aims of preventing harm. For many veterans, these laws may indeed be lifesaving. However, a 2019 National Public Radio report suggested that these laws may, in some cases, result in several unintended harms.⁹ On first reading, it is worthy, even our duty, to extend the public health safety net for children who are victims of abduction and individuals with dementia to vulnerable veterans secondary to the mental and physical wounds of service.

When the service member is located, the alert is canceled. Nevertheless, their data remains in all the protean forms of media now available. In these searches for service members thought to be lost, there is a risk of violating their privacy if too much protected health information is made widely public. These breaches of confidentiality can further exacerbate the already too prevalent stigmatization of mental illness in the military, which has been a formidable obstacle to persuading those in uniform to seek treatment.¹⁰ As J.R.R. Tolkien has noted, not every person who “wanders” is lost.¹ A veteran may leave his home for some period, even without notifying anyone, without being in grave and imminent danger. The diagnoses we health care professionals assign to patients are wide conceptual nets full of empirical holes: they are poorly predictive and protective mechanisms.¹¹ A broadly written or vague law leaves latitude for bias, discrimination, liability, and fear to drive decisions that to be ethically justifiable require consistency, transparency, equity, and expertise. Much more research is needed to develop situational awareness, scientific accuracy, and clinical reliability to understand when, how, and for whom Green Alerts are genuinely beneficial.

These are not insurmountable questions. The experts and stakeholders appointed to the interagency committee the national Green Alert proposes will work to address these problems. Yet, unless they and we look bravely at the thorny issues these laudable laws present, it will be challenging to achieve their purpose to safeguard the dignity, safety, as well as autonomy and well-being of service members.

Contemporary critiques of Memorial and Veterans Day celebrations have emphasized that while ceremonies and celebrations are culturally requisite means of demonstrating a society’s respect and gratitude for those who gave their lives and health in the country’s cause—it is not enough. These holidays have immense symbolic significance to remind the nation of the sacrifice of those who bore arms in its service. An enduring and substantive impact on veterans will require real work done on their behalf. Through its representative institutions, such as the US Departments of Defense (DoD) and Veterans Affairs (VA) and citizens’ voluntary efforts, the public must provide practical assistance to veterans and their families.²

Memorial Day honors our sacred dead who lost their lives defending freedom. In federal practice and the larger community, we are duty-bound to try and restore the things war took from these wounded warriors and in whatever measure is possible to return them to the land of the fully living. Except in memory, we cannot bring back the dead. And while life is the most precious gift, those who survived the battlefield too often lose much that matters to a meaningful human life—friends, family, livelihood, housing, self-worth, peace of heart, soundness of mind, and health of the body.

One such recent initiative of reclamation is the Green Alert. Readers are likely familiar with Amber alerts for abducted children and Silver Alerts for older adults often with cognitive impairment who are lost. The Green Alert is a similar program deploying media and law enforcement to search for missing veterans believed to be vulnerable to harm because of a medical or psychiatric illness related to their service.

In 2017 Wisconsin became the first state to pass Green Alert legislation. The Missing Veterans at Risk Act lists 2 criteria that trigger a Green Alert: There is a reason to believe that the veteran at risk is missing due to a physical or mental health condition or that the veteran at risk is missing due to a physical or mental health condition. Relevant to the readers of Federal Practitioner, in Wisconsin, Green Alerts can be issued on behalf of missing veterans, and active-duty guard and reserve members and thus cover almost all the ranks of US military service.³ When law enforcement receives a report of a missing veteran as defined in the act within 72 hours of their disappearance, a Green Alert is issued. The statute directs the US Department of Justice to permit law enforcement to access the crime notification network to notify the media to broadcast pertinent information about the missing veteran.

As of this writing, Delaware, Kentucky, Connecticut, and Texas have passed similar laws, and legislatures in other states are considering bills, as is Congress.⁴ The sponsorship of the National Green Alert Act is bipartisan. Its stated purpose is: to develop interagency Green Alert systems that would be used when a veteran “goes missing” and “for other purposes.”⁵

The program’s potential to reduce the number of veterans who die by suicide every day has understandably attracted the attention of legislators and the public.⁶ The Cost of War project disclosed the terrible irony that at least 4 times as many post-9/11 service members died by suicide as perished in the combat that Memorial Day traditionally commemorates.⁷ As with many veteran-related laws, the initial Green Alert in Wisconsin was borne out of tragedy and passed through the heroic advocacy of bereaved and outraged family members.⁸ The DoD and VA, Congress, veterans service organizations, and the loved ones of servicemembers desperately want to turn this devastating tide of self-destruction through any means possible.

It seems almost a blasphemous betrayal of our public trust to raise ethical questions about Green Alerts. Yet that must happen if we ensure that these laws achieve their intended aims of preventing harm. For many veterans, these laws may indeed be lifesaving. However, a 2019 National Public Radio report suggested that these laws may, in some cases, result in several unintended harms.⁹ On first reading, it is worthy, even our duty, to extend the public health safety net for children who are victims of abduction and individuals with dementia to vulnerable veterans secondary to the mental and physical wounds of service.

When the service member is located, the alert is canceled. Nevertheless, their data remains in all the protean forms of media now available. In these searches for service members thought to be lost, there is a risk of violating their privacy if too much protected health information is made widely public. These breaches of confidentiality can further exacerbate the already too prevalent stigmatization of mental illness in the military, which has been a formidable obstacle to persuading those in uniform to seek treatment.¹⁰ As J.R.R. Tolkien has noted, not every person who “wanders” is lost.¹ A veteran may leave his home for some period, even without notifying anyone, without being in grave and imminent danger. The diagnoses we health care professionals assign to patients are wide conceptual nets full of empirical holes: they are poorly predictive and protective mechanisms.¹¹ A broadly written or vague law leaves latitude for bias, discrimination, liability, and fear to drive decisions that to be ethically justifiable require consistency, transparency, equity, and expertise. Much more research is needed to develop situational awareness, scientific accuracy, and clinical reliability to understand when, how, and for whom Green Alerts are genuinely beneficial.

These are not insurmountable questions. The experts and stakeholders appointed to the interagency committee the national Green Alert proposes will work to address these problems. Yet, unless they and we look bravely at the thorny issues these laudable laws present, it will be challenging to achieve their purpose to safeguard the dignity, safety, as well as autonomy and well-being of service members.

Medical case reports are as old as the healing profession itself.¹ These ancient medical stories have a modern definition: “A case report is a narrative that describes, for medical, scientific or educational purposes, a medical problem experienced by one or more patients.”² Case report experts describe the 3-fold purposes of this type of research: as a mainstay of education; a harbinger of emerging illnesses; and an appraiser of new interventions. Case-based education has long been a pillar of health professions education: Nurses, doctors, and allied health professionals are taught and learn through reading and discussing with their teachers and each other about cases of their own patients and of those in the literature.³ Case reports also have helped identify and raise awareness of new diseases and rare conditions, such as HIV.⁴ Finally, case reports have alerted regulatory agencies and the medical community about medication adverse effects, such as birth defects from thalidomide.⁵

Case reports also have been criticized on both scientific and ethical grounds. Critics argue that many case reports often lack the rigor and consistency of other types of research.⁶ Three recent trends in medical publication have strengthened the validity of these criticisms: the increase in the popularity of case reports; the corresponding increase in submissions to journals, including Federal Practitioner; and the rise of predatory publishers.^7,8

The ethical scrutiny of case reports discussed in this column focuses on the tension between providing readers with adequate, accurate information to fulfil the goals of case reports while also protecting patient confidentiality. The latter issue during most of the history of medicine was not considered by health care professionals when the prevailing paternalism supported a professional-oriented approach to health care. The rise of bioethics in the 1960s and 1970s began the shift toward patient autonomy in medical decision making and patient rights to control their protected health information that rendered case reports ethically problematic.

To address both changes in ethical standards and scientific limitations, a committee of clinicians, researchers, and journal editors formed the Case Report (CARE) group.^2,8 The group undertook an effort to improve the quality of case reports. From 2011 to 2012, they developed the CARE guidelines for clinical case reporting. The guidance took the form of a Statement and Checklist presented at the 2013 International Congress on Peer Review and Biomedical Publication. Since their presentation, multiple prestigious medical journals in many countries have implemented these recommendations.

As part of an overall effort to raise the ethical caliber of our own journal, Federal Practitioner will begin to implement the CARE guidelines for case reports for all future submissions. Use of the CARE recommendations will help prospective authors enhance the scientific value and ethical caliber of case reports submitted to the journal as well as assist the Federal Practitioner editorial team, editorial board, and peer reviewers to evaluate submissions more judiciously.

An essential part of the CARE guidelines is that the patient who is the subject of the case report provide informed consent for the publication of their personal narrative. The CARE group considers this an “ethical duty” of authors and editors alike. In “exceptional circumstances” such as if the patient is a minor or permanently incapacitated, a guardian or relative may grant consent. In the rare event that even with exhaustive attempts, if informed consent cannot be obtained from a patient or their representative, then the authors of the case report must submit a statement to this effect.⁴ Some journals may require that the authors obtain the approval of an institutional review board or the permission of an ethics or other institutional committee or a privacy officer.²

Requesting the patient’s consent is an extension of the shared decision making that is now a best practice in clinical care into the arena of research, making the patient or their representative a partner in the work. Ethicists have recommended inviting patients or relatives to read a draft of the case report and agree to its publication or request specific modifications to the manuscript. The CARE group rightly points out that with the rise of open notes in medical documentation, patients increasingly have access to their charts in near or real time.² Gone are the days of Sir William Osler when only doctors read medical journals and all of these technical developments as well as standards of research and social changes in the practitioner-patient relationship make it imperative that writers and editors join together to make case reports more transparent, accurate, and consistent.⁷

An additional step to protect patient privacy is the requirement that authors either de-identify potentially identifiable health information, such as age, birth, death, admission, and discharge dates, or in some instances obtain separate consent for the release of that protected data.⁸ These restrictions constitute a challenge to case report authors who in some instances may consider these same facts critical to the integrity of the case presentation that have made some scholars doubt their continued viability. After all, the contribution of the case to the medical literature often lies in its very particularity. Conversely, no matter how frustrated we might become during writing a case report, we would not want to see our own protected health information or that of our family on a website or in print without our knowledge or approval. Indeed, the International Committee of Medical Journal Editors states that “If identifying characteristics are de-identified, authors should provide assurance, and editors should so note, that such changes do not distort scientific meaning.”⁹

However, the exponential growth of the internet, the spread of social media, and the ubiquity of a plethora of electronic devices, which prior generations of writers and readers could not even imagine, make these limitations necessary to protect patient privacy and the public’s trust in health care professionals. The CARE guidelines can help authors of case reports hone the art of anonymizing the protected health information of subjects of case reports, such as ethnicity and occupation, while accurately conveying the clinical specifics of the case that make it valuable to students and colleagues.

We at Federal Practitioner recognize there is a real tension between truth-telling in case report publication and respect for patient confidentiality that will never be perfectly achieved, but is one that is important for medical knowledge, making it worthy of the continuous efforts of authors and editors to negotiate.

Medical case reports are as old as the healing profession itself.¹ These ancient medical stories have a modern definition: “A case report is a narrative that describes, for medical, scientific or educational purposes, a medical problem experienced by one or more patients.”² Case report experts describe the 3-fold purposes of this type of research: as a mainstay of education; a harbinger of emerging illnesses; and an appraiser of new interventions. Case-based education has long been a pillar of health professions education: Nurses, doctors, and allied health professionals are taught and learn through reading and discussing with their teachers and each other about cases of their own patients and of those in the literature.³ Case reports also have helped identify and raise awareness of new diseases and rare conditions, such as HIV.⁴ Finally, case reports have alerted regulatory agencies and the medical community about medication adverse effects, such as birth defects from thalidomide.⁵

Case reports also have been criticized on both scientific and ethical grounds. Critics argue that many case reports often lack the rigor and consistency of other types of research.⁶ Three recent trends in medical publication have strengthened the validity of these criticisms: the increase in the popularity of case reports; the corresponding increase in submissions to journals, including Federal Practitioner; and the rise of predatory publishers.^7,8

The ethical scrutiny of case reports discussed in this column focuses on the tension between providing readers with adequate, accurate information to fulfil the goals of case reports while also protecting patient confidentiality. The latter issue during most of the history of medicine was not considered by health care professionals when the prevailing paternalism supported a professional-oriented approach to health care. The rise of bioethics in the 1960s and 1970s began the shift toward patient autonomy in medical decision making and patient rights to control their protected health information that rendered case reports ethically problematic.

To address both changes in ethical standards and scientific limitations, a committee of clinicians, researchers, and journal editors formed the Case Report (CARE) group.^2,8 The group undertook an effort to improve the quality of case reports. From 2011 to 2012, they developed the CARE guidelines for clinical case reporting. The guidance took the form of a Statement and Checklist presented at the 2013 International Congress on Peer Review and Biomedical Publication. Since their presentation, multiple prestigious medical journals in many countries have implemented these recommendations.

As part of an overall effort to raise the ethical caliber of our own journal, Federal Practitioner will begin to implement the CARE guidelines for case reports for all future submissions. Use of the CARE recommendations will help prospective authors enhance the scientific value and ethical caliber of case reports submitted to the journal as well as assist the Federal Practitioner editorial team, editorial board, and peer reviewers to evaluate submissions more judiciously.

An essential part of the CARE guidelines is that the patient who is the subject of the case report provide informed consent for the publication of their personal narrative. The CARE group considers this an “ethical duty” of authors and editors alike. In “exceptional circumstances” such as if the patient is a minor or permanently incapacitated, a guardian or relative may grant consent. In the rare event that even with exhaustive attempts, if informed consent cannot be obtained from a patient or their representative, then the authors of the case report must submit a statement to this effect.⁴ Some journals may require that the authors obtain the approval of an institutional review board or the permission of an ethics or other institutional committee or a privacy officer.²

Requesting the patient’s consent is an extension of the shared decision making that is now a best practice in clinical care into the arena of research, making the patient or their representative a partner in the work. Ethicists have recommended inviting patients or relatives to read a draft of the case report and agree to its publication or request specific modifications to the manuscript. The CARE group rightly points out that with the rise of open notes in medical documentation, patients increasingly have access to their charts in near or real time.² Gone are the days of Sir William Osler when only doctors read medical journals and all of these technical developments as well as standards of research and social changes in the practitioner-patient relationship make it imperative that writers and editors join together to make case reports more transparent, accurate, and consistent.⁷

An additional step to protect patient privacy is the requirement that authors either de-identify potentially identifiable health information, such as age, birth, death, admission, and discharge dates, or in some instances obtain separate consent for the release of that protected data.⁸ These restrictions constitute a challenge to case report authors who in some instances may consider these same facts critical to the integrity of the case presentation that have made some scholars doubt their continued viability. After all, the contribution of the case to the medical literature often lies in its very particularity. Conversely, no matter how frustrated we might become during writing a case report, we would not want to see our own protected health information or that of our family on a website or in print without our knowledge or approval. Indeed, the International Committee of Medical Journal Editors states that “If identifying characteristics are de-identified, authors should provide assurance, and editors should so note, that such changes do not distort scientific meaning.”⁹

However, the exponential growth of the internet, the spread of social media, and the ubiquity of a plethora of electronic devices, which prior generations of writers and readers could not even imagine, make these limitations necessary to protect patient privacy and the public’s trust in health care professionals. The CARE guidelines can help authors of case reports hone the art of anonymizing the protected health information of subjects of case reports, such as ethnicity and occupation, while accurately conveying the clinical specifics of the case that make it valuable to students and colleagues.

We at Federal Practitioner recognize there is a real tension between truth-telling in case report publication and respect for patient confidentiality that will never be perfectly achieved, but is one that is important for medical knowledge, making it worthy of the continuous efforts of authors and editors to negotiate.

Medical case reports are as old as the healing profession itself.¹ These ancient medical stories have a modern definition: “A case report is a narrative that describes, for medical, scientific or educational purposes, a medical problem experienced by one or more patients.”² Case report experts describe the 3-fold purposes of this type of research: as a mainstay of education; a harbinger of emerging illnesses; and an appraiser of new interventions. Case-based education has long been a pillar of health professions education: Nurses, doctors, and allied health professionals are taught and learn through reading and discussing with their teachers and each other about cases of their own patients and of those in the literature.³ Case reports also have helped identify and raise awareness of new diseases and rare conditions, such as HIV.⁴ Finally, case reports have alerted regulatory agencies and the medical community about medication adverse effects, such as birth defects from thalidomide.⁵

Case reports also have been criticized on both scientific and ethical grounds. Critics argue that many case reports often lack the rigor and consistency of other types of research.⁶ Three recent trends in medical publication have strengthened the validity of these criticisms: the increase in the popularity of case reports; the corresponding increase in submissions to journals, including Federal Practitioner; and the rise of predatory publishers.^7,8

The ethical scrutiny of case reports discussed in this column focuses on the tension between providing readers with adequate, accurate information to fulfil the goals of case reports while also protecting patient confidentiality. The latter issue during most of the history of medicine was not considered by health care professionals when the prevailing paternalism supported a professional-oriented approach to health care. The rise of bioethics in the 1960s and 1970s began the shift toward patient autonomy in medical decision making and patient rights to control their protected health information that rendered case reports ethically problematic.

To address both changes in ethical standards and scientific limitations, a committee of clinicians, researchers, and journal editors formed the Case Report (CARE) group.^2,8 The group undertook an effort to improve the quality of case reports. From 2011 to 2012, they developed the CARE guidelines for clinical case reporting. The guidance took the form of a Statement and Checklist presented at the 2013 International Congress on Peer Review and Biomedical Publication. Since their presentation, multiple prestigious medical journals in many countries have implemented these recommendations.

As part of an overall effort to raise the ethical caliber of our own journal, Federal Practitioner will begin to implement the CARE guidelines for case reports for all future submissions. Use of the CARE recommendations will help prospective authors enhance the scientific value and ethical caliber of case reports submitted to the journal as well as assist the Federal Practitioner editorial team, editorial board, and peer reviewers to evaluate submissions more judiciously.

An essential part of the CARE guidelines is that the patient who is the subject of the case report provide informed consent for the publication of their personal narrative. The CARE group considers this an “ethical duty” of authors and editors alike. In “exceptional circumstances” such as if the patient is a minor or permanently incapacitated, a guardian or relative may grant consent. In the rare event that even with exhaustive attempts, if informed consent cannot be obtained from a patient or their representative, then the authors of the case report must submit a statement to this effect.⁴ Some journals may require that the authors obtain the approval of an institutional review board or the permission of an ethics or other institutional committee or a privacy officer.²

Requesting the patient’s consent is an extension of the shared decision making that is now a best practice in clinical care into the arena of research, making the patient or their representative a partner in the work. Ethicists have recommended inviting patients or relatives to read a draft of the case report and agree to its publication or request specific modifications to the manuscript. The CARE group rightly points out that with the rise of open notes in medical documentation, patients increasingly have access to their charts in near or real time.² Gone are the days of Sir William Osler when only doctors read medical journals and all of these technical developments as well as standards of research and social changes in the practitioner-patient relationship make it imperative that writers and editors join together to make case reports more transparent, accurate, and consistent.⁷

An additional step to protect patient privacy is the requirement that authors either de-identify potentially identifiable health information, such as age, birth, death, admission, and discharge dates, or in some instances obtain separate consent for the release of that protected data.⁸ These restrictions constitute a challenge to case report authors who in some instances may consider these same facts critical to the integrity of the case presentation that have made some scholars doubt their continued viability. After all, the contribution of the case to the medical literature often lies in its very particularity. Conversely, no matter how frustrated we might become during writing a case report, we would not want to see our own protected health information or that of our family on a website or in print without our knowledge or approval. Indeed, the International Committee of Medical Journal Editors states that “If identifying characteristics are de-identified, authors should provide assurance, and editors should so note, that such changes do not distort scientific meaning.”⁹

However, the exponential growth of the internet, the spread of social media, and the ubiquity of a plethora of electronic devices, which prior generations of writers and readers could not even imagine, make these limitations necessary to protect patient privacy and the public’s trust in health care professionals. The CARE guidelines can help authors of case reports hone the art of anonymizing the protected health information of subjects of case reports, such as ethnicity and occupation, while accurately conveying the clinical specifics of the case that make it valuable to students and colleagues.

We at Federal Practitioner recognize there is a real tension between truth-telling in case report publication and respect for patient confidentiality that will never be perfectly achieved, but is one that is important for medical knowledge, making it worthy of the continuous efforts of authors and editors to negotiate.

I do not usually have difficulty writing editorials. However, this month was different. I kept coming up with grand ideas that flopped. First, I thought I would write a column entitled, “For What Should We Hope For?” When I started exploring the concept of hope, I quickly learned that there was extensive literature from multiple disciplines and even several centers and research projects dedicated to studying it.¹ It seemed unlikely that I would have anything worthwhile to add to that literature. Then I thought I would discuss new year’s resolutions for federal practitioners. There was not much written about that topic, yet it seemed to be overly self-indulgent and superficial to discuss eating less and exercising more amid a pandemic and a climate change crisis. Finally, I wanted to opine on the futility of telling people to be resilient when we are all exhausted and demoralized, and yet that seemed too ponderous and paradoxical for our beleaguered state. With the third strike, I finally realized I was trying too hard. And perhaps that was exactly what I needed to say, at least to myself, and maybe some readers would benefit from reading that simple message as well.

I was surprised—though I probably should not have been given the explosion of media—to find that Americans were surveyed about what months they hate most. A 2021 poll of more than 15,000 adults found that January was the most disliked month.² It’s not hard to figure out why. Characterized by a postholiday let down, these months in the middle of winter marked by either too much precipitation or if you live in the West not enough; short days and gray nights that are dark and cold. It is a long time to wait before spring with few holidays to break up the quotidian routine of work and school. January is a hard enough month in a good or even ordinary year. And 2022 is shaping up to be neither. We are entering the third year of a prolonged pandemic. Every time we have hope we are coming to the end of this long ordeal or at least things are moving toward normality, a new variant emerges, and we are back to living in fear and uncertainty.

COVID-19 is only the most relentless and deadly of our current disasters: There are rumors of wars, tornadoes, droughts, floods, shootings in schools and churches, political turmoil, and police violence. American society and the very planet seem to be in a perilous situation more than ever. No wonder then, that in the last month, several people have asked me, “Do you think this is the end of the world?” I suppose they think I am so old that I have become wise. And though I should cite a brilliant philosopher or renowned theologian: I am going to revert to my youth as a rock musician and quote R.E.M.: “It is the end of the world as we know it.” And “most of us do not feel fine!”

The world of 2022 is far more constricted and confined than it was before we heard the word COVID-19. We have less freedom of movement and fewer opportunities for companionship and gathering, for advancement and enjoyment. To thrive, and even to survive, in this cramped existence of limited possibilities, we need different values and attitudes than those that made us happy and successful in the open, hurried world before 2019. No generation since World War II has confronted such shortages of automobiles, paper goods, food, and even medicines as we have.

That is the first of the important simple messages I want to convey. Find something to be grateful for: your loved ones, your companion animals, your friends. Cherish the rainy or sunny day depending on how your climate has changed. Treasure the most basic and enduring pleasures, homemade cookies, favorite music, talking to a good friend even virtually, reading an actual book on a Sunday afternoon. These are things even the pandemic cannot take away from us unless we let our own inability to accept the conditions of our time ruin even what the meager, harsh Master of History has spared us.

The second of these simple messages is even more essential to finding any peace or joy in our current tense and somber existence: to show compassion for others and kindness to yourself. The most consistent report I have heard from people all over the country is that their fellow citizens are angry and selfish. We all understand, and even in some measure empathize with this the frustration and impatience with all the extraordinary pressure of having to function under these challenging conditions. Though we can take it out on the stranger at the grocery store or the family of the patient who has different views of masks and vaccines; it likely will not make the line shorter, the family any less demanding or seemingly unreasonable and probably will waste the little energy we have left to get home with the groceries or take care of the patient.

You never know what burden the person annoying you is carrying; it may perhaps be heavier than yours. And how we react to each other makes the weight of world weariness we all bear either easier or harder to shoulder. It sounds trite and trivial to say, yet tell people you care, and value, and love them. Although no less than Pope Francis in a Christmas present to marriages under strain from the stress of the pandemic that the 3 key words to remember are please, sorry, and thank you.³ I am applying that sage advice liberally to all relationships and interactions in the daily grind of work and home. The cost is little, the reward priceless.

It is good and right to have high hopes. We all need to take care of ourselves, whether we make resolutions to do so or not. Though more than anything else what we need is to be kind to ourselves. It is presumptuous of me to tell you what wellness means for your individual struggle, as it is inhuman of me to deign to tell you to be resilient when many of you face intolerable working conditions.⁴ As Jackson Browne sang in “Rock Me on the Water”, “Everyone must have some thought that’s going to pull them through somehow. Find your own thought, the reason you keep getting up and going to care for patients who increasingly respond with the rage of denial and resentment. Amid what morally distressed public health professionals have called so many unnecessary deaths,choose what gives you reason to keep serving that other side of this life full of healing.⁵ And if like so many of my fellow health care professionals, you are so spent and bent, that you feel that you can no longer practice without becoming someone you do not want to be, then let go with grace, get the help you deserve and perhaps one day when rested and mended, find another way to give.⁶

I rarely self-disclose but I want to end this column with a personal story that exemplifies more than all these words living this simple message. My spouse is a health care practitioner at a Veterans Affairs medical center. Like all of you on the front lines they work far too long hours in difficult conditions, with challenging patients and not enough staff to care for them. My partner had not an hour to get any gifts for me or our furry children. On Christmas Eve, before a long shift, they went to a packed Walgreens to buy our huskies each a toy and me a pair of fuzzy slippers. We sat by the tree and opened the hastily wrapped packages, and nothing could have been more memorable or meaningful. All of us at Federal Practitioner wish you, our readers, find in 2022 many such moments to sustain you.

I do not usually have difficulty writing editorials. However, this month was different. I kept coming up with grand ideas that flopped. First, I thought I would write a column entitled, “For What Should We Hope For?” When I started exploring the concept of hope, I quickly learned that there was extensive literature from multiple disciplines and even several centers and research projects dedicated to studying it.¹ It seemed unlikely that I would have anything worthwhile to add to that literature. Then I thought I would discuss new year’s resolutions for federal practitioners. There was not much written about that topic, yet it seemed to be overly self-indulgent and superficial to discuss eating less and exercising more amid a pandemic and a climate change crisis. Finally, I wanted to opine on the futility of telling people to be resilient when we are all exhausted and demoralized, and yet that seemed too ponderous and paradoxical for our beleaguered state. With the third strike, I finally realized I was trying too hard. And perhaps that was exactly what I needed to say, at least to myself, and maybe some readers would benefit from reading that simple message as well.

I was surprised—though I probably should not have been given the explosion of media—to find that Americans were surveyed about what months they hate most. A 2021 poll of more than 15,000 adults found that January was the most disliked month.² It’s not hard to figure out why. Characterized by a postholiday let down, these months in the middle of winter marked by either too much precipitation or if you live in the West not enough; short days and gray nights that are dark and cold. It is a long time to wait before spring with few holidays to break up the quotidian routine of work and school. January is a hard enough month in a good or even ordinary year. And 2022 is shaping up to be neither. We are entering the third year of a prolonged pandemic. Every time we have hope we are coming to the end of this long ordeal or at least things are moving toward normality, a new variant emerges, and we are back to living in fear and uncertainty.

COVID-19 is only the most relentless and deadly of our current disasters: There are rumors of wars, tornadoes, droughts, floods, shootings in schools and churches, political turmoil, and police violence. American society and the very planet seem to be in a perilous situation more than ever. No wonder then, that in the last month, several people have asked me, “Do you think this is the end of the world?” I suppose they think I am so old that I have become wise. And though I should cite a brilliant philosopher or renowned theologian: I am going to revert to my youth as a rock musician and quote R.E.M.: “It is the end of the world as we know it.” And “most of us do not feel fine!”

The world of 2022 is far more constricted and confined than it was before we heard the word COVID-19. We have less freedom of movement and fewer opportunities for companionship and gathering, for advancement and enjoyment. To thrive, and even to survive, in this cramped existence of limited possibilities, we need different values and attitudes than those that made us happy and successful in the open, hurried world before 2019. No generation since World War II has confronted such shortages of automobiles, paper goods, food, and even medicines as we have.

That is the first of the important simple messages I want to convey. Find something to be grateful for: your loved ones, your companion animals, your friends. Cherish the rainy or sunny day depending on how your climate has changed. Treasure the most basic and enduring pleasures, homemade cookies, favorite music, talking to a good friend even virtually, reading an actual book on a Sunday afternoon. These are things even the pandemic cannot take away from us unless we let our own inability to accept the conditions of our time ruin even what the meager, harsh Master of History has spared us.

The second of these simple messages is even more essential to finding any peace or joy in our current tense and somber existence: to show compassion for others and kindness to yourself. The most consistent report I have heard from people all over the country is that their fellow citizens are angry and selfish. We all understand, and even in some measure empathize with this the frustration and impatience with all the extraordinary pressure of having to function under these challenging conditions. Though we can take it out on the stranger at the grocery store or the family of the patient who has different views of masks and vaccines; it likely will not make the line shorter, the family any less demanding or seemingly unreasonable and probably will waste the little energy we have left to get home with the groceries or take care of the patient.

You never know what burden the person annoying you is carrying; it may perhaps be heavier than yours. And how we react to each other makes the weight of world weariness we all bear either easier or harder to shoulder. It sounds trite and trivial to say, yet tell people you care, and value, and love them. Although no less than Pope Francis in a Christmas present to marriages under strain from the stress of the pandemic that the 3 key words to remember are please, sorry, and thank you.³ I am applying that sage advice liberally to all relationships and interactions in the daily grind of work and home. The cost is little, the reward priceless.

It is good and right to have high hopes. We all need to take care of ourselves, whether we make resolutions to do so or not. Though more than anything else what we need is to be kind to ourselves. It is presumptuous of me to tell you what wellness means for your individual struggle, as it is inhuman of me to deign to tell you to be resilient when many of you face intolerable working conditions.⁴ As Jackson Browne sang in “Rock Me on the Water”, “Everyone must have some thought that’s going to pull them through somehow. Find your own thought, the reason you keep getting up and going to care for patients who increasingly respond with the rage of denial and resentment. Amid what morally distressed public health professionals have called so many unnecessary deaths,choose what gives you reason to keep serving that other side of this life full of healing.⁵ And if like so many of my fellow health care professionals, you are so spent and bent, that you feel that you can no longer practice without becoming someone you do not want to be, then let go with grace, get the help you deserve and perhaps one day when rested and mended, find another way to give.⁶

I rarely self-disclose but I want to end this column with a personal story that exemplifies more than all these words living this simple message. My spouse is a health care practitioner at a Veterans Affairs medical center. Like all of you on the front lines they work far too long hours in difficult conditions, with challenging patients and not enough staff to care for them. My partner had not an hour to get any gifts for me or our furry children. On Christmas Eve, before a long shift, they went to a packed Walgreens to buy our huskies each a toy and me a pair of fuzzy slippers. We sat by the tree and opened the hastily wrapped packages, and nothing could have been more memorable or meaningful. All of us at Federal Practitioner wish you, our readers, find in 2022 many such moments to sustain you.

I do not usually have difficulty writing editorials. However, this month was different. I kept coming up with grand ideas that flopped. First, I thought I would write a column entitled, “For What Should We Hope For?” When I started exploring the concept of hope, I quickly learned that there was extensive literature from multiple disciplines and even several centers and research projects dedicated to studying it.¹ It seemed unlikely that I would have anything worthwhile to add to that literature. Then I thought I would discuss new year’s resolutions for federal practitioners. There was not much written about that topic, yet it seemed to be overly self-indulgent and superficial to discuss eating less and exercising more amid a pandemic and a climate change crisis. Finally, I wanted to opine on the futility of telling people to be resilient when we are all exhausted and demoralized, and yet that seemed too ponderous and paradoxical for our beleaguered state. With the third strike, I finally realized I was trying too hard. And perhaps that was exactly what I needed to say, at least to myself, and maybe some readers would benefit from reading that simple message as well.

I was surprised—though I probably should not have been given the explosion of media—to find that Americans were surveyed about what months they hate most. A 2021 poll of more than 15,000 adults found that January was the most disliked month.² It’s not hard to figure out why. Characterized by a postholiday let down, these months in the middle of winter marked by either too much precipitation or if you live in the West not enough; short days and gray nights that are dark and cold. It is a long time to wait before spring with few holidays to break up the quotidian routine of work and school. January is a hard enough month in a good or even ordinary year. And 2022 is shaping up to be neither. We are entering the third year of a prolonged pandemic. Every time we have hope we are coming to the end of this long ordeal or at least things are moving toward normality, a new variant emerges, and we are back to living in fear and uncertainty.

COVID-19 is only the most relentless and deadly of our current disasters: There are rumors of wars, tornadoes, droughts, floods, shootings in schools and churches, political turmoil, and police violence. American society and the very planet seem to be in a perilous situation more than ever. No wonder then, that in the last month, several people have asked me, “Do you think this is the end of the world?” I suppose they think I am so old that I have become wise. And though I should cite a brilliant philosopher or renowned theologian: I am going to revert to my youth as a rock musician and quote R.E.M.: “It is the end of the world as we know it.” And “most of us do not feel fine!”

The world of 2022 is far more constricted and confined than it was before we heard the word COVID-19. We have less freedom of movement and fewer opportunities for companionship and gathering, for advancement and enjoyment. To thrive, and even to survive, in this cramped existence of limited possibilities, we need different values and attitudes than those that made us happy and successful in the open, hurried world before 2019. No generation since World War II has confronted such shortages of automobiles, paper goods, food, and even medicines as we have.

That is the first of the important simple messages I want to convey. Find something to be grateful for: your loved ones, your companion animals, your friends. Cherish the rainy or sunny day depending on how your climate has changed. Treasure the most basic and enduring pleasures, homemade cookies, favorite music, talking to a good friend even virtually, reading an actual book on a Sunday afternoon. These are things even the pandemic cannot take away from us unless we let our own inability to accept the conditions of our time ruin even what the meager, harsh Master of History has spared us.

The second of these simple messages is even more essential to finding any peace or joy in our current tense and somber existence: to show compassion for others and kindness to yourself. The most consistent report I have heard from people all over the country is that their fellow citizens are angry and selfish. We all understand, and even in some measure empathize with this the frustration and impatience with all the extraordinary pressure of having to function under these challenging conditions. Though we can take it out on the stranger at the grocery store or the family of the patient who has different views of masks and vaccines; it likely will not make the line shorter, the family any less demanding or seemingly unreasonable and probably will waste the little energy we have left to get home with the groceries or take care of the patient.

You never know what burden the person annoying you is carrying; it may perhaps be heavier than yours. And how we react to each other makes the weight of world weariness we all bear either easier or harder to shoulder. It sounds trite and trivial to say, yet tell people you care, and value, and love them. Although no less than Pope Francis in a Christmas present to marriages under strain from the stress of the pandemic that the 3 key words to remember are please, sorry, and thank you.³ I am applying that sage advice liberally to all relationships and interactions in the daily grind of work and home. The cost is little, the reward priceless.

It is good and right to have high hopes. We all need to take care of ourselves, whether we make resolutions to do so or not. Though more than anything else what we need is to be kind to ourselves. It is presumptuous of me to tell you what wellness means for your individual struggle, as it is inhuman of me to deign to tell you to be resilient when many of you face intolerable working conditions.⁴ As Jackson Browne sang in “Rock Me on the Water”, “Everyone must have some thought that’s going to pull them through somehow. Find your own thought, the reason you keep getting up and going to care for patients who increasingly respond with the rage of denial and resentment. Amid what morally distressed public health professionals have called so many unnecessary deaths,choose what gives you reason to keep serving that other side of this life full of healing.⁵ And if like so many of my fellow health care professionals, you are so spent and bent, that you feel that you can no longer practice without becoming someone you do not want to be, then let go with grace, get the help you deserve and perhaps one day when rested and mended, find another way to give.⁶

I rarely self-disclose but I want to end this column with a personal story that exemplifies more than all these words living this simple message. My spouse is a health care practitioner at a Veterans Affairs medical center. Like all of you on the front lines they work far too long hours in difficult conditions, with challenging patients and not enough staff to care for them. My partner had not an hour to get any gifts for me or our furry children. On Christmas Eve, before a long shift, they went to a packed Walgreens to buy our huskies each a toy and me a pair of fuzzy slippers. We sat by the tree and opened the hastily wrapped packages, and nothing could have been more memorable or meaningful. All of us at Federal Practitioner wish you, our readers, find in 2022 many such moments to sustain you.