By Rodney LaBruce

“Of all the forms of inequality, injustice in health is themost shocking and the most inhumane.” — Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

This blog is part of a larger series where I lay out the moral, historical, and institutional foundations for reparations in America. Reparations aren’t just about monetary compensation—they’re about acknowledging a pattern of exploitation that has devalued Black lives for generations. In this entry, I focus on one of the most disturbing yet often overlooked aspects of that history: medical abuse.

We begin with Dr. J. Marion Sims, a man often called the “father of modern gynecology.” What many don’t know is that his so-called breakthroughs came at a horrific cost. Between 1845 and 1849, Sims conducted repeated experimental surgeries on at least ten enslaved Black women, including Anarcha, Betsey, and Lucy. These surgeries were performed without anesthesia—because of the belief that Black women felt less pain. One of the women, Lucy, nearly died from the procedure. Sims himself described her suffering in clinical terms, noting it took him months to “cure” her. The physical and emotional torment of these women was never compensated or even acknowledged until public outcry finally led to the removal of his statue in 2018.

But Sims was not an isolated case. Just decades later, the U.S. government ran one of the most infamous medical studies in modern history. For forty years, hundreds of Black men in the South were enrolled in a study on syphilis. The problem? They weren’t told they had it—and even after penicillin was widely available as a cure, they weren’t treated. These men were seen as test subjects, not patients. Their lives were gambled away in the name of "science."

In the mid-20th century, medical abuse shifted forms but not intent. Tens of thousands of Americans—mostly poor and disproportionately Black—were forcibly sterilized under eugenics laws. Women like Fannie Lou Hamer were subjected to hysterectomies without their knowledge or consent. In hospitals, in prisons, in government-run programs, Black bodies were treated as expendable and available for experimentation. In one instance, Black patients in St. Louis were exposed to radioactive substances under the guise of testing air quality.

In the 1990s, researchers in New York City conducted a controversial study involving over 100 boys, predominantly Black and Hispanic, aged 6 to 10. The children were administered fenfluramine—a component of the weight-loss drug combination fen-phen—to explore whether serotonin levels were linked to aggressive behavior. The New York State Psychiatric Institute led the study in collaboration with Mount Sinai Medical Center and other institutions.
The children selected had siblings with histories of delinquency, and the procedures were invasive: fasting, catheterization, oral dosing of fenfluramine, and multiple blood draws. The drug was already under scrutiny for potential links to heart valve damage. Critics highlighted the lack of direct therapeutic benefit, the disproportionate targeting of minority children, and questionable informed consent practices.

Around the same time, foster children, largely Black and Latino, were enrolled in HIV drug trials. These children—already some of the most vulnerable in society—were subjected to risky treatments without proper consent.

Then there’s the story of Henrietta Lacks. Her cancer cells, taken without her knowledge in 1951, went on to revolutionize medical science. Her cells were immortal. Her legacy was not. Her family didn’t know her body was being used for decades—while pharmaceutical companies profited from her DNA.

Even now, echoes of these abuses remain. A 2016 study found half of medical students believed Black people feel less pain, leading to unequal treatment. Black patients are still undertreated for pain. Black women are three to four times more likely to die from pregnancy-related causes than white women. And race is still used as a biological shortcut in medical decisions, despite being a social construct.

Even today, systemic bias continues in medical research and treatment:

- Black patients are underrepresented in clinical trials, skewing treatment effectiveness data.
- Medical algorithms have prioritized white patients for care, as documented in a 2019 study published in Science.
- Race is still often used as a biological proxy in clinical decision-making, despite its social construct nature.

These modern echoes show that while historical cases are often viewed as relics of the past, the ethical concerns remain very much alive.

All of this makes one thing clear: the devaluation of Black bodies is not just a thing of the past—it’s a living, breathing injustice. If reparations are to mean anything, they must include an acknowledgment of bodily exploitation. They must come with a commitment to medical justice:

• Healthcare as a guaranteed right for descendants of those harmed
• Memorials and education that tell the full truth
• Mandatory anti-racism training for all healthcare professionals
• And investment in community health systems that have long been ignored

This isn’t about guilt. It’s about responsibility. Justice too long delayed is justice denied—and the bodies we’re fighting for deserve better.