The Great Organ Bazaar


LUND, SWEDEN – The Web site 88DB.com Philippines is an active online portal that
allows service providers and consumers to find and interact with each other. Naoval,
an Indonesian man with “AB blood type, no drugs and no alcohol,” wants to sell his
kidney. Another man says, “I am a Filipino. I am willing to sell my kidney for my
wife. She has breast cancer and I can’t afford her medications.” Then there is
Enrique, who is “willing to donate my kidney for an exchange. 21 years old and
healthy.”


Other offers of this type could, just a few years ago, be found at
www.liver4you.org, which promised kidneys for $80,000-$110,000. The costs of the
operation, including the fees of the surgeons – licensed in the United States, Great
Britain, or the Philippines – would be included in the price.


All of this Internet activity is but the tip of the iceberg of a new and growing
global human-tissue economy. Indeed, the World Health Organization (WHO) has
estimated that about 10% of organ transplants around the world stem from purely
commercial transactions.


Trade in organs follows a clear, geographically linked pattern: people from rich
countries buy the organs, and people in poor countries sell them. In my research on
organ trafficking, I have entered some of these shadow markets, where body parts
from the poor, war victims, and prisoners are commodities, bought or stolen for
transplant into affluent ill people.


One woman, originally from Lebanon, told me that a wealthy businessman from Spain
paid a huge sum for her kidney. In the end, however, she received no monetary
payment. Today, her life is much worse than before, because medical complications
following the operation make it difficult for her to work. Similar stories are told
by organ vendors I have met from the former Soviet states, the Middle East, and
Asia.


Organ trafficking depends on several factors. One is people in distress. They are
economically or socially disadvantaged, or live in war-torn societies with prevalent
crime and a thriving black market. On the demand side are people who are in danger
of dying unless they receive an organ transplant. Additionally, there are organ
brokers who arrange the deals between sellers and buyers.


It is also necessary to have access to well-equipped clinics and medical staff. Such
clinics can be found in many countries, including Iran, Pakistan, Ukraine, South
Africa, and the Philippines.


Indeed, the Philippines is well known as a center of the illegal organ trade and a
“hot spot” for transplant tourism. From the 1990’s until 2008 (when a new policy was
adopted), the number of transplantations involving organ sales by Filipinos to
foreign recipients increased steadily. Many organ sellers from Israel, for example,
were, together with their buyers, brought to Manila for the transplants.


Hector is one of the several hundred cases of kidney vendors documented by social
workers in three impoverished towns in the Philippines’ Quezon province. His brother
was trapped in Malaysia with high debts to criminal gangs, so Hector sold his kidney
in order to buy his freedom. Another vendor, Michel, became a broker himself; after
selling one of his kidneys to pay for his father’s medicines, the surgeon forced him
to deliver more organs. The vendors’ organs were transplanted to recipients mainly
from the Philippines, Israel, Japan, South Korea, and Saudi Arabia.


Trade in humans and their bodies is not a new phenomenon, but today’s businesses are
historically unique, because they require advanced biomedicine, as well as ideas and
values that enhance the trade in organs. Western medicine starts from the view that
human illness and death are failures to be combated. It is within this conceptual
climate – the dream of the regenerative body – that transplantation technology
develops and demand for biological replacement parts grows.


One of the more obvious manifes­tations of treating the human body as a resource to
be mined is the hospital waiting list, used in many countries. A man I interviewed
recently for a study of Swedes who had been on the waiting list, but who decided to
purchase kidneys abroad, described to me his trip to Pakistan for the transplant:
“I’m not the kind of man who uses other people, but I had to. I had to choose
between dying and getting back my life!”


In an era of transplants on demand, there is no way around this dilemma. The
biological imperatives that guide the priority system of transplant waiting lists
are easily transformed into economic values. As always where demand exceeds supply,
people may not accept waiting their turn – and other countries and other peoples’
bodies give them the alternative they seek.

   

    Susanne Lundin is Professor of Ethnology at Lund University, Sweden.

   

sourceProject Syndicate, 2011.
 



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