Rush: Revolution, Madness, and the Visionary Doctor Who Became a Founding Father (Review)
One of my favorite discoveries from reading Stephen Fried’s Rush: Revolution, Madness, and Benjamin Rush—the Visionary Doctor Who Became a Founding Father was the discovery that the United States Constitutional Convention had a Committee on Style and a Committee on Detail. Considering my wife and I think most everything would improve with a good editor, I couldn’t help but hope that I might someday serve on similarly themed committee. Admittedly, the odds are unlikely I would serve next to the likes of Alexander Hamilton or James Madison, but it was fun imagining the Founding Fathers debating the implications of sentence structure and world selection.
Another enjoyable element of Fried’s book was learning of a Founding Father about whom I previously knew little. I could have identified Rush as the physician who signed the Declaration of Independence, but that was nearly the extent of my knowledge. Yet during a visit to Philadelphia, I wanted a different take on the city during the Revolutionary War than the Benjamin Franklin perspective, and Stephen Fried’s biography was what I needed. Benjamin Rush is an overlooked giant in American history, and Fried lays out not only why Rush warrants more attention but why his story moved to the second tier of colonial leaders. Along the way, Fried crafted an interesting book on a man whose passion for independence was only surpassed by his passion for medicine and healing.
One benefit of studying Benjamin Rush is that he offered insight into other Founding Fathers by serving as a man of letters whose interests extended beyond that of government and law. Rush maintained passion and acumen on the subjects, but after the Revolutionary War, his focus shifted sharply toward medicine. Before this occurred, however, he struck up a deep friendship with John Adams.
Their relationship revealed a bit of insight into the early movement toward revolution. Adams expected England to ignore the colonists’ passage of the Declaration of Colonial Rights and the boycott of British goods. After the First Continental Congress adjourned, Adams wrote that he never expected to see Philadelphia again, but he would remember the city fondly. It seems not every Founder saw the magnitude of their actions for what they would become.
During the preparation for the revolutionary war, the continental congress enacted price fixing. Rush read from David Hume’s history of England to argue that price fixing made the economy worse. The committee overruled him, and Rush concluded that “men do not become wise from the experiences of other people. Even our own experiences do not always produce wise conduct, though the lessons for that purpose are sometimes repeated two or three times.”
Fried’s book also provided this vignette on John Adams. Before writing the Declaration of Independence, Adams convinced Jefferson to write the first draft: “Reason first—You are a Virginian, and a Virginian ought to appear at the head of this business. Reason second—I am obnoxious, suspected and unpopular. You are very much otherwise. Reason third—You can write ten times better than I can.” It’s interesting looking back at the pair’s early friendship and the path it took toward turmoil before circling back to friendship before death.
It was during the Revolutionary War when Benjamin Rush began shifting from politics to medicine. Rush was behind the standard military buzz cut to prevent lice and wet hair in the rain. As Rush began suggesting changes to military medicine, he realized there was a long way to go for the colonies to reach the precision of the British medical corps. He didn’t disparage the colonies’ inadequacies. Instead, he focused on setting goals to improve the policies, even though it was slow to gain traction. Despite the clear advantages of the British approach—an advantage Washington and other leaders acknowledged—Rush still struggled to secure buy-in from Congress and the military. But eventually, the military adopted most of his suggestions.
During the Revolutionary War, Rush wrote to John Adams about his experience visiting patients behind British lines. He spoke about the care extended to some of the patients and the kindness extended to him. This was a contrast to cruelty toward many prisoners and surrendering groups that were tortured and killed. Rush told Adams not to let the kindness muddy his view of the British, “they hate us.” It strikes me this tends to be human behavior—condemn the group in sweeping terms instead of viewing the individuals within a group. It is always the case that one or even numerous examples do not necessarily represent the entire group. Analysis requires more subtlety.
In 1783, Rush began analyzing madness in the terms of illness to be treated instead of just locking patients in the basement, which was the societal norm. Rush’s work with mental illness brought humanity to people who previously received little beyond that of farm animals. Instead of a locked room living in filth and excrement, Rush began a movement to treat the patients as individuals who needed care and treatment instead of just banishment from society.
In the 1780s, Rush addressed the Philadelphia Philosophical Society to discuss science and religion. He did so knowing his thoughts would be blasphemy to some he respected. Yet he proceeded anyway. Rush had great boldness, particularly when he thought it would benefit the public good. As one former student described Rush, he possessed an “unbought nobility.” Soon after the Revolutionary War, Rush identified the challenge the new country would face trying to “balance science, religion, liberty, and good government.” It seems this challenge is still facing the United States, and it helps hearing how the early leaders in this country spoke and act—adding a bit of nobility to the process.
My interests lean toward politics and governance much more so than medicine, but Fried’s book should appeal to individuals who have an interest in either subject. Benjamin Rush had an interesting life, and he embraced his role of service from start to finish. The stories along the way are still worth exploring today, and Stephen Fried packaged them in an engaging manner. The narrative stalled a bit in the second half, but I still enjoyed the read and recommend the book.
