Spaces and networks of genetic knowledge making: the ‘geneticisation’ of heart disease
-
Upload
edward-hall -
Category
Documents
-
view
214 -
download
1
Transcript of Spaces and networks of genetic knowledge making: the ‘geneticisation’ of heart disease
ARTICLE IN PRESS
1353-8292/$ - se
doi:10.1016/j.he
�Tel: +44-13
E-mail addr
Health & Place 10 (2004) 311–318
www.elsevier.com/locate/healthplace
Spaces and networks of genetic knowledge making: the‘geneticisation’ of heart disease
Edward Hall�
School of Social Sciences, Media and Communication, Queen Margaret University College, Clerwood Terrace, Edinburgh EH12 8TS, UK
Abstract
The ‘geneticisation’ of health, medicine and the body is extending from single-gene to multi-factorial conditions such
as heart disease. Adopting ‘Actor Network Theory’, the paper argues that the making of genetic knowledge occurs in
spaces and networks where contested knowledges necessarily produce a geneticisation that is neither certain nor
complete. Drawing on empirical research in a coronary care unit in Glasgow, Scotland, the paper sets out the network
of consultants, rehabilitation nurses and people with heart disease and others who collectively, through contestation
and the marshalling of knowledges by prominent social actors, produce an understanding of the role of genes in heart
disease.
r 2004 Elsevier Ltd. All rights reserved.
Keywords: Geneticisation; Heart disease; Knowledges; Networks
Introduction
Knowledges of the body, health and illness are
undergoing a period of intense transformation, as
developments in human genetic science accelerate and
reshape medical and public understandings and prac-
tices (Conrad and Gabe, 1999). The ‘medical gaze’ is
penetrating deeper into the body (Philo, 2000), con-
structing a new spatial discourse of a ‘genetic body’ in
which an increasing number of health, illness and
behavioural conditions are being connected to, ex-
plained by and are indeed becoming particular sets of
gene sequences (Hall, 2003). From a small number of
relatively rare single-gene conditions, most notably
Cystic Fibrosis and Huntingdon’s Disease, the discourse
is now encompassing common complex illnesses such as
cancers and heart disease (Martin, 1999). This incor-
e front matter r 2004 Elsevier Ltd. All rights reserve
althplace.2004.08.006
1-317-3601; fax: +44-131-317-3604.
ess: [email protected] (E. Hall).
poration of a multitude of conditions into a genetic
narrative has become known as ‘geneticisation’: ‘‘[De-
fining] most disorders, behaviours, and physiological
variations as wholly or in part genetic in origin’’
(Lippman, 1998, p. 64). This paper is an attempt to
assess the seeming ‘geneticisation’ of heart disease, the
major cause of mortality and morbidity in the West
(British Heart Foundation, 2002). Increasing research
claims and accompanying media coverage of the role of
the genes in several key aspects of heart disease,
particularly hypertension and high cholesterol, are
forming a significant challenge to the dominant ex-
planation of causation, that is, ‘poor’ lifestyle behaviour
in the context of social and spatial inequalities. The
paper maps the dynamics of one set of spaces where this
possible transformation is occurring: a hospital coron-
ary care unit in Glasgow, Scotland. It argues that the
process of geneticisation is anything but as straightfor-
ward as that imagined by Lippman (1998), as consultant
cardiologists, cardiac rehabilitation nurses, and people
d.
ARTICLE IN PRESSE. Hall / Health & Place 10 (2004) 311–318312
with heart disease collectively, through contested knowl-
edges and uneven power relations, form an under-
standing of the role of genes in heart disease.
A sense of a plurality of knowledges of genetics—in
particular, that such knowledge is not the preserve of
genetic science—is gradually emerging in social studies
of genetics. The bulk of medical sociologies of genetics
have assessed the impact of genetic knowledge as given,
with emphasis on genetic testing (Hallowell, 1999), ‘gene
therapy’ techniques (Stockdale, 1999) and fears for a
new eugenics (Shakespeare, 1999). In contrast, there has
been little concern with the (ongoing) production of
medical genetic knowledge, be it in the laboratory, in
health policy or in exchanges between health profes-
sionals and patients (except Cunningham-Burley and
Kerr, 1999; Hall, 2003; Hedgecoe, 2003). Unpacking
genetic knowledge outwith scientific spaces—for in-
stance, recognising lay constructions of genetics (Hunt
et al., 2001)—could destabilise the completeness and
certainty and hence unsettle the determinism and
inevitability of geneticisation. That sociologists of
science generally assume that the public know little or
nothing about genetics, needing guidance from scientists
and health professionals to understand the issues, makes
such an approach difficult, however (Kerr et al., 1997).
This paper attempts to do just this through an analysis
of the interconnections of lay and health professional
knowledges of the role of genes in heart disease within a
hospital setting.
Within geography, engagement with human genetics
has been very limited (Greenhough, 2002; Hall, 2003),
despite Parr’s (2002, p. 247) plea to health geographers
to ‘‘debate more rigorously’’ the social and biological
construction of bodies. Parr’s call draws on the
possibilities opened up by the post-structuralist ‘cultural
turn’, that is, the transformation of knowledge as
singular, absolute and universal into a recognition of it
as partial, uncertain and multiple. Geographers have
added an extra twist to this, asserting that knowledges
are intimately linked to spaces—of bodies and society—
to the extent that once a particular ‘imaginary’ or
knowledge of a space becomes dominant, then other
representations and ways of knowing become difficult or
even impossible to imagine (Massey, 1999). Hall (2003)
sets out how the increasing dominance of genetic
narratives of the body and health are dependent on
the spatialising of the genetic material (in particular, in
the form of genetic maps); once the genetic material has
been spatialised, it can be bounded, known and
exploited. Geneticisation is perhaps the inevitable out-
come of the making of spatial knowledge of the genes.
However, this is not the end of the story. The cultural
turn not only ‘lifted the lid’ on such dominant knowl-
edges, but also opened up the possibility of other,
contesting knowledges. The key theoretical manoeuvre
was the rethinking of knowledge as relational, that is, as
produced and known in networks of interconnections,
rather than as linear, i.e. issued from a singular,
objective and superior position (Massey, 1999). Again
this is intimately tied up with space: knowledge is
produced collectively from a number of locations—in
this instance, people with heart disease, hospital staff,
and the coronary care unit—rather than from a single
position—the medical genetics laboratory or the con-
sultant. In an attempt to capture the dynamics of these
multiple, competing strands of knowledge of the role of
genes in heart disease, the paper employs ‘Actor
Network Theory’ (Latour, 1987). While usually asso-
ciated with studies of scientific practice (see Hall, in
press), Actor Network Theory can be effectively applied
to the study of the multiple sources of interconnected
knowledge making in networks and within particular
socio-spatial contexts, sources that include not only
people, but also institutions and technology and further
genes, disease and bodies (Murdoch, 1997). I will
provide a fuller account of the theoretical approach
later in the paper.
The remainder of the paper begins with an explora-
tion of the seeming geneticisation of heart disease,
charting its transformation from individual and social
causes to genetic explanation. The Actor Network
Theory approach is then set out and used to analyse
the empirical data gathered in a coronary care unit in
Glasgow. The two spaces and networks of ‘diagnosis’
and ‘rehabilitation’ are described and discussed. The
paper concludes with an assessment of the nature of the
geneticisation of heart disease and identifies a distinct
role for geographies of health in research on the genetics
of health.
The geneticisation of heart disease
Coronary heart disease remains the major cause of
mortality and morbidity in the developed world, with
more than 1.4 million people experiencing angina and
around 300,000 people suffering a myocardial infarction
(heart attack) in the UK every year (British Heart
Foundation, 2002). As such, it dominates health policy,
with the focus on improving individual lifestyle beha-
viour, whilst acknowledging the significant socio-spatial
inequalities in incidence. Medical genetic claims and
associated media coverage are beginning to reimagine
heart disease as a condition ‘wholly or in part genetic in
origin’ (Lippman, 1998, p. 64). In this section, the paper
charts this seeming transformation of heart disease in
the context of medical genetic claims and practices.
Popular knowledges have always recognised that
heart disease ‘runs in families’ (Hunt et al., 2001) and
‘family history’ has always been part of cardiological
assessment (Gray et al., 2002). While inheritance has
been acknowledged as an ‘independent predictor’ of
ARTICLE IN PRESSE. Hall / Health & Place 10 (2004) 311–318 313
heart disease risk (Timmis and Nathan, 1997), the
detailed mechanisms have not been identified. In the
absence, until recently at least, of a genetic explanation,
the ‘cause’ of heart disease has been attributed directly
to individual behaviour and indirectly to social and
spatial inequalities (Huff and Gray, 2001).
Public health advice on heart disease centres on
individuals’ need to improve their lifestyle behaviours—
in particular, cease smoking, reduce alcohol consump-
tion, eat a low fat diet and increase levels of physical
exercise—and so reduce their ‘risk’. Central to this is the
assumption that individuals have the desire to change
and that it is within their control to do so (Petersen and
Lupton, 1996). However, Davison et al.’s (1992) study of
lay knowledges of heart disease causation in south
Wales exposes the weaknesses of this assumption: those
interviewed were fully aware of the behaviours that put
people at risk, but at the same time other knowledges—
of fate, destiny and chance—were drawn upon to
explain those of ‘coronary candidacy’ who did not
succumb to heart disease, i.e. people who lived to an
advanced age despite ‘unhealthy’ lifestyles and, con-
versely, individuals who died young yet lived ‘safely’
within the limits of risk. Such gaps in the dominant
explanation, and in individuals’ willingness to accept it,
provide possible ‘entry points’ for genetic narratives of
disease causation, seemingly replacing the uncertainty of
‘fate’ with the supposed certainty of medical science and
the gene.
The individualism of heart disease policy provides a
clear framework for geneticisation. A genetic explana-
tion sits more uneasily, however, with the significant
social and spatial inequalities in the incidence of heart
disease (Bryce et al., 1994). The evidence of inequality is
substantial (Huff and Gray, 2001), in particular for
social class—for example, those in manual occupations
are three times more likely to suffer from heart disease
than those in non-manual occupations—yet, an
explanation has been less straightforward to identify
(Marmot et al., 1991). It is thought, however, that less
knowledge about risk factors and lower expectations
about health, combined with limited access to exercise
facilities, nourishing food and addiction to nicotine and
alcohol, place some people in positions where ‘positive’
choices about lifestyle are much more limited (McLoone
and Boddy, 1994). Geographers argue that not only are
social contexts important in shaping health knowledges
and illness incidence, but also the physical and
social landscape and networks of the places where
people live (Kearns and Gesler, 2002). So, adopting
a risky behaviour, such as a high fat diet, is not simply
an individual decision, but is conditioned by local
knowledges and availability of food. Huff and
Gray (2001) argue that such a conceptualisation is the
closest we have got to identifying the cause of heart
disease.
A ‘family history’ of heart disease is perhaps therefore
a social rather than a biological inheritance, with the
sharing of socio-spatial environments reproducing dis-
ease through the passing on of behaviours and knowl-
edges of health (Julian et al., 1998). However, despite the
credibility of this explanation, medical genetics is
increasingly providing specific microbiological accounts
of the causation of many aspects of heart disease
(Lefkowitz and Willerson, 2001). Crucially for the
narrative of geneticisation, this has extended from
relatively well-known single-gene conditions, such as
‘Familial Hyperlipidaemia’ (very high cholesterol)
(Lyon and Gorner, 1996) and ‘Long QT Syndrome’
(a disorder of the heart’s ‘electrical system’) (British
Heart Foundation, 2003), to genetic ‘predictors’ of more
complex conditions that contribute to heart disease.
Amongst the many claims are the following examples: a
gene variant (PPAR@) that may cause ‘Sudden Adult
Death Syndrome’ is found within 20 per cent of the
population (Flavell et al., 2002); the hormone angio-
tensinogen, an important determinant of blood pressure,
has been found to have a common variation in a gene
‘promoter’ (on–off switch) (Day and Wilson, 2001); and
the E4 version of the APOE gene, found in a quarter of
the UK population, multiples by three times the risk of
heart disease for smokers (Guardian, 2001).
These medical science ‘discoveries’ and their publica-
tion in the popular media are seemingly generating a
progressive geneticisation of heart disease. Further, and
more powerfully, non-genetic factors, such as smoking,
are being incorporated within the genetic explanation.
By accepting the role of behavioural factors in disease,
geneticisation widens its explanatory claim from single-
gene to complex conditions. Importantly, however,
while apparently emphasising the interaction of ‘nature’
and ‘nurture’ (and rejecting genetic determinism), the
genetic factors remain the underlying cause of the
condition, the ‘predisposition’ that individual behaviour
or the environment then ‘triggers’ (Hedgecoe, 2001). In
other words, in this ‘enlightened geneticisation’ (Hedge-
coe, 2001), while medical genetics emphasises that there
will never be a ‘gene for’ heart disease, individual
behaviour and the environment do not have ‘decisive
control’ (Hedgecoe, 2001, p. 883). The outcome is a
‘geneticisation by stealth’ (Hedgecoe, 2002, p. 9), as
health conditions such as heart disease are gradually
interwoven with genetic ‘causes’. Eventually, merely
mentioning them in the same breath is sufficient, without
the need for scientific proof (Lippman, 1991).
Despite the seemingly unstoppable process of genet-
icisation, and the associated marginalisation of indivi-
dual and social factors, the geneticisation of heart
disease is neither uncontested nor inevitable (Hedgecoe,
2002). The reasons for this are: firstly, the growing
realisation, as genetic science transfers into medical
practice, that genetics will never deliver the promised
ARTICLE IN PRESSE. Hall / Health & Place 10 (2004) 311–318314
certainty, and that individual and socio-spatial factors
explain large swathes of heart disease incidence (Kerr,
2004); secondly, those on the ‘front line’ of medicine and
heart disease—health professionals and patients—‘work
out’ the meaning of the relationship between genes and
heart disease. As Hedgecoe (2002) argues, the key to
understanding the significance of geneticisation is to
investigate these socio-spaces: ‘‘What is needed is
detailed empirical research on how geneticisation is
taking place, carried out in as many different contexts as
possible’’ (23, emphasis added). In the following section,
one particular context—the coronary care unit of a
hospital in Glasgow—is the setting for the ‘working
out’, through a contested network of people, ideas and
technologies, of the meaning of the relation between
genes and heart disease.
Spaces and networks of genetic knowledge making
To conceptualise this network of contested knowl-
edges, the paper adopts Actor Network Theory
(ANT)—a theoretical framework developed by Callon
(1986), Law (1992) and Latour (1993)—which offers
several distinctive conceptual advantages over other
sociologies of genetic science (e.g. Martin, 1999; Hedge-
coe, 2002): it is a distinctly relational and ongoing (as
opposed to linear and complete) understanding of the
making of knowledge and objects; it acknowledges the
multiplicity of ‘actors’ in this collective making, includ-
ing non-human actors; and the networks are specific
(sets of) spaces, placing the knowledge-making within a
broad context of socio-spatial relations.
There is insufficient space here to fully explore Actor
Network Theory (see Murdoch, 1997), but there are five
key themes that will be drawn upon in the analysis.
Firstly, and most crucially, a claim, such as geneticisa-
tion, can only become a ‘fact’ if a collective of ‘actors’—
people, institutions and ‘things’—engage with the claim
and actively make it a fact (Bucchi, 2004). In other
words, the knowledge being made, and the agency that
the multiple actors have, is wholly dependent upon their
relations to one another; as such, the meanings being
constructed are always open to contestation (Milligan,
2001). Secondly, thinking relationally implies that all
actors are equal in their ability to influence the making
of knowledge, although ANT concedes that some,
especially social, actors have more say in the forming
of outcomes (Castree and MacMillan, 2001). Thirdly,
another outcome of imagining the world as a set of
relations, rather than opposites, is that natural as well as
social actors play a role in the network, so the outcome
can be influenced, for example, by people, institutions
and technologies and bodies, genes and emotions
(Laurier and Philo, 1999). This rejection of the
natural–social binary by ANT makes it extremely
applicable to cutting through a debate such as genet-
icisation, polarised around this dichotomy. Fourthly,
once natural as well as social, and non-human as well as
human, actors are embroiled in the network, then a wide
variety of forms of communication have to be recog-
nised in the ‘translation’ of meaning across the net-
work—not only language, but also the ‘inscription’ of
objects with meaning, e.g. technologies and practices.
Fifthly, once the number of actors has been multiplied,
and social actors decentred, then the possibilities for
democratic knowledge emerging and the options for
contesting dominant ideas and power open up.
Overall, Actor Network Theory provides a framework
for thinking through the becoming of knowledge,
acknowledging the many interests, voices and meanings
of those engaged in the process. However, it would be
wrong to assume that such a network just forms and an
outcome ‘just happens’—Latour (1987) stresses that this
collective process is always managed, to an extent at
least, by particular social actors, who Latour (1987,
p. 108) called ‘fact-builders’. These prominent actors
achieve the desired outcome by ‘enrolling’ or marshal-
ling other actors, ‘translating’ the desired outcome into
meanings that appeal to their different interests (Bucchi,
2004). Such marshalling is not guaranteed to produce
the ‘desired’ outcome—the results of a network are
always precarious and uncertain, open to reinterpreta-
tion and, as such, never complete.
The discussion that follows focuses on one particular
set of spaces and networks of knowledge-making about
genes and heart disease, analysing interviews with two
cardiology consultants and two cardiac rehabilitation
nurses, and focus groups with six groups of people with
heart disease. The interviews and focus groups took
place between May and July 2003; the sessions included
discussion of a selection of newspaper stories of claims
of links between heart disease and genes. Two key stages
of cardiac care can be identified, each involving a
particular set of actors and dynamics and within
particular spaces—the diagnosis of heart disease in the
consulting room and the rehabilitation of the person
with heart disease in clinics and exercise classes.
Diagnosis
Following a suspected myocardial infarction and
admission through the accident and emergency unit or
on referral from a GP for symptoms of angina, a person
enters into the coronary care unit and, once an initial
assessment and stabilisation has been undertaken, they
are diagnosed in a consulting room. In a medicalised
system of healthcare, diagnosis—when symptoms are
described, analysed and linked to a particular disease
category—is perhaps the critical moment for both the
individual and the consultant. The two consultants
stated that at the moment of diagnosis an attempt is also
ARTICLE IN PRESSE. Hall / Health & Place 10 (2004) 311–318 315
made to identify the cause, however problematic or
precautionary, to facilitate the start of the rehabilitation
process (see below). In his diagnosis, one consultant
identifies the cause(s) in the following way:
I go for the usual suspects: smoking, lipids [choles-
terol], family history, in that order (C1).
Drawing on his medical knowledge and experience, he
‘knows’ that the most probable causes will be individual
behaviour, such as smoking or diet. There is another
important reason for this focus, however—the need to
provide a ‘target’ and motivation for the individual in
rehabilitation. In the first hint of his understanding of
the role of genes in heart disease diagnosis, the
consultant adds:
I accept [the genetic component of heart disease], but
do not put it nearly as high in my priorities as
smoking and lipidsyHyperlipidaemia runs in fa-
milies, but I tend to take the reassuring line. I advise
them to look at any possible lifestyle risk factor (C1).
There is an acceptance of the role of genes, but the
emphasis is firmly on individual behaviour, on linking
the heart disease to something the individual has done,
has responsibility for and, crucially for rehabilitation,
has the ability to change. The second consultant sums up
his approach to people diagnosed with heart disease:
[I say to] patients, ‘this is down to you, you can
change your lifestyle, you change your diet, you can
exercise and all these things and you can protect
yourself from heart attack’ (C2).
There is an attempt to marginalise the perceived role
of genes in heart disease. The consultants believe that
there is so powerful an association between genes and
certainty of disease amongst patients (and the broader
public) that placing genetic causation on an equal
footing—rather than at the bottom of ‘the order’—
could potentially lead to health fatalism—as opposed to
‘hope’—which would limit the effectiveness of rehabili-
tation.
A lot of people in this city [Glasgow] believe that
they’re destined to die because their father died of
heart disease. yI think it is very important to give
people hope (C2).
One consultant, closely involved in medical genetic
research carried out elsewhere in the hospital (see Hall,
in press), privately at least, stressed the significant role
that genes played in heart disease. However, when asked
how he would translate such claims for patients he was
cautious:
You have to explain to patients that, ‘Yes, these
genes exist, but they may not necessarily function in
you and you may have protective genes, we don’t
know. What we do know though is that there are
benefits from an active lifestyle, and with an active
lifestyle you’ll enjoy it, you’ll feel better’. yIf people
are happier, they will take a much greater interest in
the treatments we have to offer (C2).
In the space of the consulting room the cause of the
individual’s condition is identified, emphasising lifestyle
behaviours and marginalising genes. Although this may
seem a straightforward process of linear knowledge, i.e.
the giving out of medical knowledge from the consultant
to the unknowledgeable patient, and a certain and fixed
outcome, i.e. the diagnosis, we can prise open the ‘black
box’ of the diagnosis and discover the complexity of the
network. Most importantly, we can recognise that the
consultants are ‘managing’ the outcome, or at least
attempting to. To do this—and indeed for the con-
sultants to secure their own identities and positions—a
whole host of other actors have to be enrolled to support
their attempt to secure the ‘fact’ of lifestyle as the cause.
The consultant’s white coat, language and terminology,
his reference to expert knowledge and experience and the
‘feel’ of the consulting room, all drawing on the power
of the medicalisation of health, ‘translate’ to the patient
the particular understanding of the cause of heart
disease. The consultant makes every effort to enrol the
patient to give the best chance of success, through
appealing to their sense of hope, connecting to their
lifestyles and by generating a notion of control by the
patient over their future. In addition, other actors—e.g.
patients’ families and nursing staff (see below)—have to
be convinced of the result to ensure the successful
outcome. However, this outcome is by no means certain
or secure. While the consultants employ ‘strategic
essentialism’ to marginalise the role of genes and place
lifestyle factors centre stage, some of the patients are not
wholly enrolled. As one commented in a focus group on
his diagnosis:
The consultant said some of the cause was in my
family and some was my own doing [smoking]. I
asked him [again] what the cause was, and he said
‘What do you think?’, implying that it was my fault,
never mind my family history (FG3).
The patient is resisting the consultant’s attempt at
enrolment—‘What do you think?’—by asserting, at least
in his thoughts, his understanding of the role of
inheritance his condition. Although the people with
heart disease acknowledged the role of lifestyle beha-
viours, they drew upon personal embodied experiences,
family histories and social contacts:
I think it’s important [lifestyle behaviour]. I don’t
knock it, it’s good advice. But I can’t get it out of my
own mind, when I think of people I know. Genes
ARTICLE IN PRESSE. Hall / Health & Place 10 (2004) 311–318316
don’t seem to get the publicity that smoking does
(FG3).
The patients—their bodies, emotions, histories and
experiences—disrupt the management of the network by
the consultants (and the many actors and translations
marshalled to support their desired outcome). Although
their contesting understandings are not expressed in the
space of the consulting room, they remain important in
the experience of their condition and rehabilitation.
There seems to be a gap opening up between what the
consultants (and their allies) understand they are
achieving, and what many people with heart disease
increasingly feel about the use of such strategic
essentialism to cut genes out of the explanatory picture.
Adopting a network approach allows us to see inside the
black box of diagnosis and the contestation of the
dominant knowledge by an assumed weak and un-
knowledgeable actor (the lay patient); the outcome of
the diagnosis is suddenly not as secure as it first seemed.
Rehabilitation
A patient’s stay in intensive care in the coronary care
unit usually lasts a few days; they are then discharged
and enter into the second phase (and set of spaces) of
coronary care—rehabilitation. Rehabilitation takes
place in a number of locations—including local clinics
and the coronary care unit—with rehabilitation nurses
providing the co-ordination role, the ‘‘first port of call’’
for the patient (RN1). This occurs as soon as the patient
is diagnosed (before discharge from the hospital) and
sees the marshalling of a network of people, places and
objects.
Once the diagnosis is made, that’s really when we
come in and approach the patient and facilitate their
care. They are enrolled in a programme and we
continue to follow them up in the community (RN1).
The programme on which they are enrolled is
encapsulated in ‘‘the wee white book’’ of diet and
exercise guidance, information about drugs, numbers for
advice and so on, which is ‘‘more or less gospel for the
first month, the do’s and don’ts’’ (RN2). The pro-
gramme includes a 12-week course of exercise and talks
on diet, cholesterol, blood pressure and coping, pro-
vided by a ‘‘multi-disciplinary team of nurses, dieticians
and clinical psychologists’’ (RN1). The rehabilitation
nurses see the programme as together providing clinical
care, ‘‘allaying any fears, any misconceptions which
have been identified’’ and ‘‘giving confidence’’ (RN1).
The rehabilitation nurses are, as with the consultant,
attempting to manage the network of patients, their
families (some of whom attend the rehabilitation
sessions), other health professionals, and spaces through
particular understandings or translations (the ‘wee white
book’, advice line and the exercise classes and talks) to
produce a particular outcome—the knowledge amongst
patients that they are actively responding to their heart
disease with the implicit assumption that it was caused
by their poor lifestyle behaviour. At all points through
the rehabilitation ‘fears’ and ‘misconceptions’—under-
standings that do not match onto the desired outcome—
are ‘identified’ and ‘allayed’, essential to maintain the
result. The nurses deal with genetic claims for causation
of heart disease with extreme caution, and any questions
or ‘fears’ regarding this are swiftly ‘quashed’. While they
acknowledge there are a ‘‘small percentage of people
who you can’t explain through normal risk factors’’
(RN1), when asked about the role of genes by patients,
perhaps in response to a newspaper article brought
along to a rehabilitation session, they respond very
carefully.
I would very much stick to the line that [genetics] is in
its infancy, we don’t know enough about it at the
moment. It’s something that’s being looked into, but
well just wait and see how it goes. There’s not enough
evidence to support it (RN2).
Importantly, the nurses note that patients are asking
about genetic causation of heart disease more now (and
‘‘have more knowledge on board’’ (RN1)), and the
nurses themselves are gaining more knowledge through
their reading of cardiology journals and most recently
by attending the British Cardiac Society conference held
in Glasgow in 2003. With these contestations in the
network, the nurses struggle to maintain their manage-
ment of lifestyle factors as primary cause, responding
to one newspaper story discussed in the interviews
(Guardian, 2001), linking specific genes to heightened
risk of heart disease from smoking, by stating that to
patients:
I would want to play down that down a wee bityI
would want to really quash it and deal with smoking
side of it (RN2).
Their concern is that of patient fatalism, in this
instance, that ‘‘people will say, ‘well, there’s no point in
me giving up [smoking]’’’ (RN2). Those patients that
attend the sessions—and importantly the majority do
not, in itself a significant contestation of the desired
outcome of rehabilitation—do not necessarily share this
fatalism. While some do see genes as ‘‘unknown, locked
inside, there is no warning of disease, it just happens’’
(FG2), more commonly patients have a sense of genes as
one element in the causation of their condition:
We have built in [genetic susceptibilities] and we can
make these worse by behaviour (FG2).
Many patients know, through their embodiedness,
family history and lay medical knowledge, that their
ARTICLE IN PRESSE. Hall / Health & Place 10 (2004) 311–318 317
condition can only be explained by a combination of
genetic and non-genetic factors; consequently, they tend
to be pragmatic rather than fatalistic, as the health
professionals fear.
Discussion and conclusion
This analysis of one set of spaces and network of
actors reveals a complex and contested understanding of
the role of genes in heart disease. The process of
attempting to secure a particular understanding—that of
heart disease as caused solely by individual behaviour—
by the consultants and rehabilitation nurses was
contested by the actions, words and embodied experi-
ences of many of the people with heart disease. Actor
network theory shows that while certain powerful social
actors use all the resources at their disposal, and all
forms of translations, they can only secure a precarious
and temporary outcome of heart disease as non-genetic.
Patients’ family knowledge, media coverage and the
unpredictability of the disease for themselves or people
they know, all pick away at that outcome and suggest a
greater complexity.
What does this mean for the seeming geneticisation of
heart disease? On the one hand, it could be argued that
the practices of the consultants and rehabilitation nurses
show clearly that genetic explanations are yet to get a
hold on the imaginations and practices of coronary care,
with genes only included when all possible lifestyle
behaviours have been accounted for. On the other hand,
the strategic essentialism of the consultants and nurses
could indicate a denial or nervousness about the power
of the gene, i.e. that the role of genes cannot be identified
or even discussed because of fears of patient fatalism. Is
this what Lippman (1991) was hinting at, i.e. that once a
disease condition and genes are mentioned in the same
breath they will be forever linked whatever the quality or
quantity of the scientific or medical evidence? The
geneticisation of heart disease, the consultants and
nurses seem to believe, is on the brow of the hill and
they see it as their responsibility to fight back any
advance. However, while this marginalisation is partially
successful, many patients desire an acknowledgement by
consultants and nurses of the role of genes and broader
biology in heart disease, while emphasising the central
role of lifestyle (Shostak, 2003).
In conclusion, there can never be a straightforward
and complete geneticisation of heart disease as imagined
by Lippman (1998), because of the contesting knowl-
edges of consultants, nurses, people with heart disease
and others. Instead of simply accepting or rejecting
geneticisation, we can perhaps refocus our research onto
a critical examination of the broader contexts within
which medical genetic knowledges are developing—
government genetic health policy (Department of
Health, 2003) and social and spatial inequalities in
health (Kelly, 2002)—areas where geographies of health
have much to contribute.
Acknowledgements
Many thanks to all those who participated in the
research, in particular the consultants, rehabilitation
nurses and people with heart disease. The paper was first
presented at the Annual Meeting of the American
Association of Geographers in New Orleans, March
2003; thanks to Gail Davis, Suzanne Williamson and
Rosie Day for organising both the session and this
collection. The three referees reports provided insightful,
thorough and constructive criticism. The research was
funded by Economic and Social Research Council
Research Grant R000223927. This paper is dedicated
to Rosina, who arrived as it was being completed.
References
British Heart Foundation, 2002. Coronary Heart Disease
Statistics 2002. British Heart Foundation, London.
British Heart Foundation, 2003. Long Q-T Syndrome. http://
www.bhf.org.uk/questions/index.asp?secondle-
vel=370&thirdlevel=500 Accessed September 21st.
Bryce, C., Curtis, S., Mohan, J., 1994. Coronary heart disease:
trends in spatial inequalities and implications for health care
planning in England. Social Science & Medicine 5, 677–690.
Bucchi, M., 2004. Science in Society. Routledge, London.
Callon, M., 1986. Some elements in a sociology of translation:
domestication of the scallops and fishermen of St. Brieuc
bay. In: Law, J. (Ed.), Power, Action and Belief. Routledge
& Kegan Paul, London, pp. 19–34.
Castree, N., MacMillan, T., 2001. Dissolving dualisms: actor-
networks and the reimagination of nature. In: Castree, N.,
Braun, B. (Eds.), Social Nature: Theory, Practice and
Politics. Blackwell, Oxford, pp. 208–224.
Conrad, P., Gabe, J., 1999. Introduction: sociological perspec-
tives on the new genetics: an overview. Sociology of Health
and Illness 21 (5), 505–516.
Cunningham-Burley, S., Kerr, A., 1999. Defining the ‘social’:
towards an understanding of scientific and medical dis-
courses on the social aspects of the new human genetics.
Sociology of Health and Illness 21 (5), 647–668.
Davison, C., Frankel, S., Davey Smith, G., 1992. The limits of
lifestyle: re-assessing ‘fatalism’ in the popular culture of
illness prevention. Social Science & Medicine 34 (6),
675–685.
Day, I., Wilson, D., 2001. Genetics and cardiovascular risk.
British Medical Journal 323, 1409–1412.
Department of Health, 2003. Our Inheritance, Our Future:
Realising the Potential of Genetics in the NHS. The
Stationery Office, London.
Flavell, D., Jamshdi, Y., Hawe, E., Torra, I., Taskinen, M.-R.,
Frick, H., et al., 2002. Peroxisome Proliferator-Activated
Receptor gene variants Influence progression of coronary
ARTICLE IN PRESSE. Hall / Health & Place 10 (2004) 311–318318
atherosclerosis and risk of coronary artery disease. Circula-
tion 105, 1440–1445.
Gray, H., Dawkins, K., Simpson, I., Morgan, J., 2002.
Cardiology. Blackwell, Oxford.
Greenhough, B., 2002, Making space for ‘human nature’:
genetic science at the Icelandic frontier. Presented at the
Royal Geographical Society (with the Institute of British
Geographers) Annual Conference, January 2002.
Guardian, 2001. Dangerous gene puts smokers at greater risk.
July 13th.
Hall, E., 2003. Reading maps of the genes: interpreting the
spatiality of genetic knowledge. Health & Place 9, 151–161.
Hall, E., in press. The ‘geneticisation’ of heart disease: a
network analysis of the production of new genetic knowl-
edge. Social Science & Medicine.
Hallowell, N., 1999. Doing the right thing: genetic risk and
responsibility. Sociology of Health & Illness 21 (5), 597–621.
Hedgecoe, A., 2001. Schizophrenia and the narrative of
enlightened geneticisation. Social Studies of Science 31 (6),
875–911.
Hedgecoe, A., 2002. Reinventing diabetes: classification, divi-
sion and the geneticisation of disease. New Genetics and
Society 21 (1), 7–27.
Hedgecoe, A., 2003. Expansion and uncertainty: cystic fibrosis,
classification and genetics. Sociology of Health & Illness 25
(1), 50–70.
Huff, N., Gray, D., 2001. Coronary heart disease inequalities:
deaths and the socio-economic environment in Nottingham,
England. Health & Place 7 (1), 57–61.
Hunt, K., Emslie, C., Watt, G., 2001. Lay constructions of a
family history of heart disease: potential for misunderstand-
ings in the clinical encounter? The Lancet 357 (9263), 1168.
Julian, D., Cowan, J.C., McLenachan, J., 1998. Cardiology.
W.B. Saunders, London.
Kearns, R., Gesler, W., 2002. Culture/Place/Health. Routledge,
London.
Kelly, S., 2002. New genetics meets the old underclass: findings
from a study of genetic outreach services in rural Kentucky.
Critical Public Health 12 (2), 169–186.
Kerr, A., 2004. Giving up on geneticisation: a comment on
Hedgecoe’s ‘Expansion and uncertainty: cystic fibrosis,
classification and genetics’. Sociology of Health & Illness
26 (1), 102–106.
Kerr, A., Cunningham-Burley, S., Amos, A., 1997. The new
genetics: professionals’ discursive boundaries. The Socio-
logical Review 35, 279–303.
Latour, B., 1987. Science in Action. Harvard University Press,
Cambridge MA.
Latour, B., 1993. We Have Never Been Modern. Harvester
Wheatsheaf, Hemel Hempstead.
Laurier, E., Philo, C., 1999. X-morphizing: a review essay of
Aramis. Environment and Planning A 31, 1047–1073.
Law, J., 1992. Notes on the theory of the actor-network:
ordering, strategy and heterogeneity. Systems Practice 5,
379–393.
Lefkowitz, R., Willerson, J., 2001. Prospects for cardiovascular
research. Journal of the American Medical Association 285
(5), 581–587.
Lippman, A., 1991. Prenatal genetic testing and screening:
constructing needs and reinforcing inequalities. American
Journal of Law and Medicine 17 (1/2), 15–50.
Lippman, A., 1998. The politics of health: geneticisation versus
health promotion. In: Sherwin, S., et al. (Ed.), The Politics
of Women’s Health: Exploring Agency and Autonomy.
Temple University Press, Philadelphia, pp. 64–303.
Lyon, J., Gorner, P., 1996. Altered Fates. Norton, New York.
Marmot, M., Davey Smith, G., Stansfield, S., et al., 1991.
Health inequalities amongst British civil servants: the
Whitehall II study. The Lancet 337, 1387–1393.
Martin, P., 1999. Genes as drugs: the social shaping of gene
therapy and the reconstruction of genetic disease. Sociology
of Health & Illness 21, 517–538.
Massey, D., 1999. Issues and debates. In: Massey, D., Allen, J.,
Sarre, P. (Eds.), Human Geography Today. Polity, Cam-
bridge, pp. 3–21.
McLoone, P., Boddy, F., 1994. Deprivation and mortality in
Scotland, 1981 and 1991. British Medical Journal 309,
1465–1470.
Murdoch, J., 1997. The spaces of actor-network theory.
Geoforum 29 (4), 357–374.
Milligan, C., 2001. Geographies of Care: Space, Place and the
Voluntary Sector. Ashgate, Aldershot.
Parr, H., 2002. Medical geography: diagnosing the body in
medical and health geography, 1999–2000. Progress in
Human Geography 26 (2), 240–251.
Petersen, A., Lupton, D., 1996. The New Public Health: Health
and Self in the Age of Risk. Sage, London.
Philo, C., 2000. The Birth of the Clinic: an unknown work of
medical geography. Area 32 (1), 11–20.
Shakespeare, T., 1999. ‘Losing the plot’? Medical and activist
discourses of contemporary genetics and disability. Sociol-
ogy of Health & Illness 21 (5), 669–688.
Shostak, S., 2003. Locating gene-environment interaction: at
the intersections of genetics and public health. Social
Science & Medicine 56, 2327–2342.
Stockdale, A., 1999. Waiting for the cure: mapping the social
relations of human gene therapy research. Sociology of
Health & Illness 21 (5), 579–596.
Timmis, A., Nathan, A., 1997. Essential Cardiology. Blackwell,
Oxford.