He Should Have Put His Name On It
Friday, January 9, 2009 at 9:18AM Please, Jess, Marie. Do me a favor, for your own good, put your name in your books right now before they get mixed up and you won't know whose is whose. 'Cause someday, believe it or not, you'll go 15 rounds over who's gonna get this coffee table. This stupid, wagon wheel, Roy Rogers, garage sale COFFEE TABLE.
Harry Burns, When Harry Met Sally
Perhaps Dr. Richard Batista should have put his name on his kidney before agreeing to have it transplanted to his wife in 2001. Although, even had he taken that precautionary measure, it's still unlikely that he would be able to regain custody of his transplanted kidney during his current divorce proceedings, as he is trying to do now.
Dr. Batista's highly publicized efforts to either reclaim his kidney or collect the monetary value of his life-saving contribution (calculated by his attorney at $1.5 million) demonstrate an extreme measure of donor remorse, which was described by Dr. Sally Satel:
While the vast majority of donors report a lasting feeling of self-worth and experience a deep sense of gratification from the act—according to surveys, about 95 percent of donors say they would do it again—some regret having donated. It may be that a hoped-for closeness with the recipient failed to materialize, an anticipated demonstration of gratitude was not forthcoming, or the donor felt he did not get the social recognition he deserved. These dynamics prompted sociologists to coin the phrase "the tyranny of the gift." It represents the dark side of altruism; the sense of entitled reciprocity that can be a burden to both donor and recipient. This is not part of the standard gift-of-life storyline, however, and few people are aware of it.
Although this episode has attracted attention largely for its novelty and tawdriness, it does illustrate systemic problems with our current system of living organ donation that relies solely upon individual altruism. Like all living donors, Dr. Batista received no legal consideration for his donation. In fact, it would have been illegal for him to receive consideration of any kind.
Would the situation be viewed the same way if he had been compensated in some way? If he had received a contribution to his retirement fund? If he had been able to claim a substantial tax exemption or credit after his donation?
Does the organ recipient have a moral obligation to perform or behave in a certain manner to satisfy the organ donor? Would their obligations - whether real or perceived - change in any way if the recipient knew that the donor received significant compensation for their donation?
The introduction of incentives would likely change the perceptions held by both donor and recipient, in both positive and negative terms. The living organ donor would lose some of the altruistic luster that currently defines their life-saving donation, and by receiving some level of compensation their continued sense of "ownership" would almost certainly diminish.
Likewise, the perceived obligations of the transplant recipient would shift. The gratitude would always remain, but the tyranny of the gift would be removed and may actually benefit the recipient who no longer has the same measure of overwhelming obligation constantly hanging over them. After all, if the donor were to receive compensation, then the recipient's personal obligations would diminish proportionally.
For those who celebrate and cling to the current system of purely altruistic donation, these considerations are abhorrent. But for those of us who seek to eliminate entirely the transplant waiting list, we understand that there are tradeoffs in every aspect of organ donation. If introducing incentives for living organ donation and diminishing the notability of altruistic donation could result in increased donation and saved lives, that's a tradeoff we're willing to embrace.







