Image: Le mains du Orlac / This is a condensed version of a talk delivered at an organ transplant congress
Organ Transplants in film and feality: a philosophical reflection
When I think of organ transplants in film, the first thing that comes to mind is Coma, the 1978 film adaptation of Robin Cook’s novel. As a young girl in the late ’70s, this was the first thriller I saw, and it left a lasting impression. Starring Michael Douglas (who was far from the hero at the beginning) and Geneviève Bujold, the story follows Dr. Susan Wheeler (Bujold), a physician at Boston Memorial Hospital. Her boyfriend, Mark Bellows (Douglas), is a surgeon at the same hospital.
The plot takes off when Wheeler’s friend is admitted for a routine operation but falls into a coma afterward. Wheeler soon discovers that many healthy patients undergoing simple procedures have also slipped into unexplained comas—240 that year alone. Suspicious, she investigates and uncovers a horrifying truth: the hospital is part of a black market organ-harvesting operation, with comatose patients stored in a facility called the Jefferson Institute, where their organs are sold.
At first, no one believes Wheeler—not her boss nor her boyfriend, who dismisses her suspicions as paranoia. But in the end, Bellows comes to her rescue just before she becomes the next victim. Coma highlights the ethical implications of organ transplantation in a time when such medical breakthroughs were still new and shocking to the public imagination.
Christiaan Barnard and the Rise of Transplantation
In the late 1960s, organ transplants were seen as a revolutionary step forward for medicine. In particular, heart transplantation captured the world’s attention. The first successful heart transplant was performed by South African surgeon Christiaan Barnard in 1967. His patient, Louis Washkansky, lived for 18 days before succumbing to pneumonia.
Barnard’s surgery opened the door to the idea of organ transplants as life-saving procedures, but it also triggered concerns about the ethical boundaries of such practices. As one commentator in The New York Times remarked:
“One need not be a science fiction writer to envision future murder rings supplying healthy organs for black-market surgeons whose patients are unwilling to wait until natural sources have supplied the heart or liver or pancreas they need.”
This dystopian vision, which Coma plays out so effectively, is rooted in real fears. Organ transplantation represents not just medical progress but a fundamental shift in how we perceive the human body.
The Body as Commodity
With the ability to transplant organs, the human body is no longer viewed as a singular, sacred unit. Instead, it becomes a collection of replaceable parts. This mechanistic view contrasts sharply with the spiritual idea of the body as a unified whole. The development of transplant medicine forces us to reconsider our relationship with our bodies. In some cases, it leads to the unsettling thought that our organs can be traded, sold, or stolen.
The idea of the body as a commodity opens the door to extreme exploitation, as in Coma or the persistent urban legend of “the stolen kidney.” These tales, including stories about international organ trafficking rings or prisoners having their organs harvested, feed into the public’s deep-seated fears. While some of these stories are urban myths, like the infamous “kidney theft” legend, they resonate because of the underlying truth that organ donation is not always transparent.
Identity, Soul, and Transplants
Organ transplantation also raises profound questions about identity. Where does the “self” reside? In the brain? In the heart? Can a person’s soul or personality be transferred along with an organ?
Fiction often explores this concept. The Hands of Orlac (1924), for example, tells the story of a pianist who receives the hands of a murderer and subsequently starts committing murders himself. This narrative reflects a common fear: that transplanted organs carry with them some essence of the donor. Even modern examples, like the Simpsons parody where Homer Simpson receives a hair transplant from a serial killer, tap into this primal unease.
Psychological studies show that recipients often feel connected to their donors in unexpected ways. Bruce Hood, a professor of cognitive neuroscience, found that people are often uncomfortable receiving organs from individuals with criminal pasts. The belief that a transplant might transfer characteristics from donor to recipient reveals our deep-seated beliefs about the connection between body and soul.
Personalities and Memories in Transplanted Organs?
There are countless stories of transplant recipients claiming to take on traits of their donors. Some report personality changes or new habits after receiving an organ. One famous case involved a man named Sonny Graham, who received the heart of a donor and later married the donor’s widow—before tragically taking his own life, just as the donor had done.
Other stories, though less dramatic, are just as compelling. People claim to have developed new tastes or preferences after their transplants. A woman named Cheryl Johnson, for example, said that after receiving a kidney transplant, she found herself reading Jane Austen instead of celebrity gossip magazines. These anecdotes suggest that organ transplants may involve more than just biology.
Conclusion: The Three Dimensions of Transplantation
In reflecting on these themes—through both science fiction and real-life cases—three core ideas emerge about our understanding of organ transplants:
- Body as Commodity: Organ transplantation challenges the notion of the body as a sacred, unified entity. Instead, it becomes a collection of spare parts, raising concerns about the ethical implications of treating human bodies as commodities.
- Donor and Recipient: The act of transplanting organs inherently privileges the recipient over the donor. In extreme cases, this dynamic can lead to exploitation and a disregard for the donor’s dignity.
- Identity and Essence: The lingering idea that organs carry with them the essence of the donor speaks to our discomfort with the separation of body and soul. Whether scientifically grounded or not, these fears reflect deeper existential questions about what it means to be human.
Ultimately, organ transplantation is not just a medical procedure—it’s a process that reshapes how we think about life, death, and the very nature of our humanity.
