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Jali screens

Floor 1, Gallery 33, Mughal India

Unknown artists, Toy Soldiers, Vizagapatam, brass, c.1795 CE 

The language used around terminal disease and end-of-life narratives often employs metaphors of battle - war and warriors, bravery and courage - with the disease playing the part of an implacable enemy to be fought and defeated. This language can place the dying person in a publicly combative relationship with their disease and even opens the possibility of a patient having ‘failed’, should treatment be ineffective.

Are ’battle’, ‘fight’ and ‘brave’ problematic terms, or useful metaphors to encourage and support the dying and the bereaved?

Should medicine redefine its relationship to death, not as failure but as a natural stage in a continuous cycle? What would that mean for both professionals and patients?

Does use of military language to speak of diseases as ‘invaders’, carry the risk that the metaphor of the ‘enemy’ to be kept at bay expands from the diseases, to the humans who carry them?

 

Toy Soldiers, Vizagapatam, brass,

Floor 1, Gallery 33, Mughal India

Unknown carvers, Jali Screens, sandstone, early 19th century

A “good death” might mean being pain-free, at peace, or surrounded by loved ones, while a “bad death” could mean isolation, suffering, or lack of choice. But these ideas are not fixed; they shift across cultures, religions, and even from person to person. These Jali screens were intended to shield interiors from the sun and to create cool, private spaces.

The circumstances of death may contain a wealth of medical information, and this data can be highly useful, for example in health research.

How can we balance concern for individual privacy about our health data (or the data of the deceased), with the wider benefits of using this data?

In a learning health care system, in which data is constantly being collected, can the process of dying ever be truly private?

 

Supported by the Ashmolean Museum and Nuffield Department of Clinical Neurosciences