In September 2008, Brian Sinclair, a middle-aged non-Status Anishinaabe resident of Manitoba’s capital city wheeled himself into the Health Sciences Centre, Winnipeg’s major downtown hospital. He was left untreated and unattended to for thirty-four hours in the Emercency Room, where he ultimately died from an easily treatable infection. McCallum and Perry show that Sinclair’s tragically avoidable death reflects a particular structure of indifference born of and maintained by colonialism.
Dr. Mary Jane Logan McCallum, of the Munsee Delaware Nation, is an assistant professor in the History Department at the University of Winnipeg. Her current research projects reflect her interests in twentieth-century Aboriginal histories of health, education and labour. She is currently leading a CIHR-funded project entitled “Indigenous History of Tuberculosis in Manitoba 1930-1970,” which uses qualitative and quantitative analysis of archival records, material evidence and oral histories to examine the history of the management of TB and experiences of First Nations people with the disease.
Sometimes the perfect storm occurs. No one decision, no one action or inaction, leads to the outcome—it’s the combination that brings us to disaster. Sometimes, though, that perfect storm happens because of structural racism, as Mary Jane Logan McCallum and Adele Perry seek to demonstrate in Structures of Indifference: An Indigenous Life and Death in a Canadian City. This is the story of Brian Sinclair: his life, his death in a Winnipeg emergency room, and the context in which these events are situated. This is less of a history and more a systems-theory approach to how racism, colonialism, and prejudice create a climate in which Indigenous people’s bodies are overwhelmingly policed, incarcerated, and otherwise deprived of agency.
McCallum and Perry tell the story over five acts: introduction and conclusion, and then three parts in between: the city, the hospital, and Brian Sinclair. In each chapter, they seek to link Sinclair’s ordeal—34 hours left unattended in a Winnipeg ER waiting room until he was discovered dead from preventable complications—to the colonialism and racism that underpin Canadian society. In so doing, this book is similar to, for example, Tanya Talaga’s Seven Fallen Feathers. This is not just a book about Brian Sinclair’s unnecessary death: it’s a book that seeks to explain, to Canadians, just why Brian Sinclair died.
Unlike Talaga, however, the authors are historians, not journalists. So even though their methodology overlaps in some cases—both books make use of extensive interviews with relatives and authorities, for example—their writing is quite different. Talaga’s book is meant for wide public consumption. Structure of Indifference, while accessible and worthy of a read, is a much drier and far more conventional academic text. The introduction is 27 pages of McCallum and Perry “situating” everything in the drawn-out, convoluted jargon that is academic language these days. I say this not to mock them but merely to make it clear to prospective readers what you’re in for. I don’t dispute that this book is well-written or well-researched, but I have definitely read more engaging stories.
If you’re creating a syllabus for a university course, then yeah, this is a good book for you. Ditto if you live in Winnipeg and want some more context on your city’s history. As someone from Thunder Bay I found it interesting and relatable, and certainly similar attitudes of prejudice and inaction occur at our hospital and other social services (I mean … just look at our police service).
At the end of the day, this book is not going to change someone’s mind about whether or not racism “exists” in Canada at a systemic level. For those who have accepted systemic racism is a thing, however, and are looking for concrete, actionable examples of how systemic racism functions, this book is a valuable resource. In particular, the three-act structure of city, hospital, and Brian Sinclair help McCallum and Perry to establish the intersectional and complicated nature of the discrimination that ultimately cost Sinclair his life. It isn’t that any person or people were looking at Sinclair and thinking, “Man, I hate Indigenous people, I’m not going to help that guy.” It isn’t even as simple as people stereotyping Sinclair as a homeless drunk/junkie (although that was a component). No, there’s something bigger afoot.
There is a whole society in existence right now that deals with Indigenous people only as it is convenient for them to do so. This society is called Canada.
In Structures of Indifference, Mary Jane Logan McCallum and Adele Perry examine the death of Brian Sinclair in September 2008. Sinclair – who was a middle-aged and physically handicapped Indigenous man – arrived at the emergency room of the Winnipeg Health Sciences Centre for an easily treatable infection. Instead of being triaged, he was told to sit and wait in the corner. Over a period of thirty-four hours, Sinclair slipped in and out of consciousness, showed obvious signs of acute medical distress, and eventually died in the exact same place he was told to wait. A number of healthcare staff noticed that the situation was escalating, but did nothing to intervene. Some made excuses and appealed to authority; others fell back onto their own prejudices, explaining it away by asserting their belief that he was a homeless loiterer.
How could this have happened? How could a patient go into a hospital expecting treatment, only to end up dying from something that was completely mundane and preventable? To answer those difficult questions, McCallum and Perry direct our attention toward Canada’s history as a dominion and a settler colony. In their interpretation, early Canadian “settler colonialism” legitimized and institutionalized practices of genocide and dispossession, which subsequently embedded anti-Indigenous racism at the systemic level in Canadian society.
Moreover, the nature of systemic racism is such that it tends to produce “structures of indifference” among the more advantaged groups in society. That is, settler colonialism establishes and maintains systemic racism, which, in turn, creates a particular brand of apathy toward the plight of the marginalized, the racialized, the undesirable, and the least well-off. The indifference of the hospital staff toward Sinclair was structurally determined, and it was born out of the anti-Indigenous racism at the heart of Canadian history. It’s why Sinclair and others like him were, as the authors put it, “[…] literally ignored to death […].”
Systemic racism affects self-perception in strange ways. It makes victimization seem to occur spontaneously, or without sufficient cause. When the causes of a tragedy are mounted on top of one another and have institutional roots, the consequences begin to feel less like a tragedy and more like an unavoidable ‘Act of God’. Although there are usually a wealth of individuals to hold accountable, the more people involved, the less accountable they actually feel. This feeling becomes even more pronounced when there are many individuals reporting to a superior in a rigid hierarchical structure, like a hospital or another institution.
Recall the Milgram experiment on obedience and submission to authority; that is what we're dealing with here. I think the analogy of lingchi – or ‘death by a thousand cuts’ – is quite relevant as well. In an execution by lingchi, which single cut can be said to have caused the death of the condemned subject? Does it make sense to talk about a single cut, or is it better to analyze the combination and succession of cuts? In the case of Sinclair, I think that McCallum and Perry justifiably prefer the latter explanation.
Sadly, Sinclair’s death is not an isolated incident, nor is it simply in the past. It is just one example in a long and ongoing history of institutionalized negligence. How are these tragedies still occurring? As I write this, the family of Joyce Echaquan is in the middle of filing a wrongful death lawsuit against a hospital in Joliette, Quebec. If you’re unaware, Echaquan was an Atikamekw woman and mother of seven who – like Sinclair – died in hospital following a series of negligent practices. Her death has received a significant amount of media attention recently; much of the attention stems from a cellphone video, which Echaquan managed to record just before dying in hospital. The video captured several of the nursing staff uttering anti-Indigenous racial slurs and making derogatory comments about Echaquan’s competence as a mother.
Clearly, the Sinclair and Echaquan cases are not anomalous "one-offs" in Canadian history. Rather, as McCallum and Perry forcefully argue, their cases “[…] reflect the ways that Indigenous people have been constructed as beyond or outside health care, often with tragic results for Indigenous people who do find themselves in hospitals”. Systemic problems need systemic solutions. Unfortunately, until radical changes are made to combat these systemic issues, it’s likely that more racialized patients will die from neglect. Structures of Indifference is a great starting point for highlighting and addressing the problem.
Before I close out this commentary, I wanted to share some parting thoughts on a separate but related issue, and offer a general critique on the trending methodologies in recent social and cultural histories. Although McCallum and Perry do not cite Foucault, their approach is unmistakably Foucauldean. The influence is especially clear if we consider his earlier structuralist work in Madness and Civilization, Discipline and Punish or The Birth of the Clinic.
Foucault’s popularity isn’t new in the circles of academic history. In fact, from my readings, much of subaltern studies, postcolonial theory, and social history take Foucault as their starting point; in some cases, his ideas appear to be treated almost as if they were axiomatic ‘givens’. He is one of the most beloved theorists in the humanities, and for good reason. From Foucault, we inherited a number of useful hermeneutic tools for studying the history of ideas. Biopower, the body, panopticism, institution, discourse, ‘archéologie’, social constructivism – all of these ideas achieved their highest and clearest expression in the work of Foucault. I’ve used a number of those ideas to help interpret the past myself.
However, I want to discuss how the use of Foucault may reveal a different set of "structures of indifference" in the academic world. In light of the recent allegations – I’m referring specifically to the accusations of predatory and paedophilic behaviour in Tunisia, though there have been many other serious allegations over the years as well – I think it’s time to confront his continuing legacy in the humanities. Are scholars who draw upon Foucault’s thought to interpret the colonial archive willing to interrogate the ways in which his own legacy is, perhaps, complicit in the very structures of colonial domination and power that he critiqued? Should we continue to draw inspiration from Foucault, or should we shift our theoretical focus away from questions of discursive power toward something else? After all, if his intellectual stance on colonialism still allowed him to sexually abuse young boys in Africa, or to deliberately infect sexual partners with HIV, then is it possible that his philosophy and methodology is inadequate? Is discourse analysis morally vapid?
Personally, if any of those allegations have even a shred of truth, then I’m tempted to question not only Foucault’s legitimacy as an academic, but also his worth as a human being. The allegations make me want to put everything he wrote in italics and read it with extreme caution. Hypocritically, Foucault may have sought to de-legitimize the repressive colonial project even as he sought to use that very same project to exploit others for his own gratification.
As painful as it may be to some historians and cultural theorists, it may be time to ask ourselves if we should throw the baby out with the bath water. If we decide that, yes, there are some redeeming qualities in a body of work so tainted by alleged sexual abuse, then I think we should pose another question – can we ever trust an historian working within the tradition of Nietzsche? Trusting a Nietzschean to write an honest and balanced history is like trusting a Machiavellian to run an honest and balanced political campaign. At the end of the day, both Nietzsche and Machiavelli are unreliable figures, and so is Foucault. As historians, we shouldn't ignore the very real possibility that his legacy may be connected to systems of racism, violence, and colonial domination. To do so would be to perpetuate a similar sort of indifference toward human suffering - one that exists at the level of high culture, intellectuals, and academic institutions.
Perry and McCallum use three brief chapters, in addition to an introduction and a conclusion, to demonstrate how settler colonialism and its racist foundations impacted and continue to impact the treatment of Indigenous peoples in, predominantly, the healthcare system but the authors also touch upon the role of legal and media system in sustaining these beliefs. The first chapter focuses on “The City.” Winnipeg’s history as the industrial hub of the west included the direct marginalization and dispossession of Indigenous peoples from the urban centre. While Winnipeg underwent re-Indigenization after the Second World War, demonstrating the resilience of Indigenous peoples, the process was patterned by de facto (i.e. landlords directing Indigenous applicants to other parts of the city) and de jure (i.e. the Manitoba Liquor Act segregating Indigenous people from bars) which reinforced that Indigenous peoples were “others” requiring paternalistic laws to rule their existence. The second chapter moves to “The Hospital” and demonstrates how the hospital is rooted in colonialism, from the names of the institution’s buildings or the streets it stands to doctors and staff repeatedly demonstrating their biased treatment of Indigenous patients. The third chapter focuses on Brain Sinclair’s life, highlighting the real impacts of Canada’s Indigenous policies. By the end of the book, it is clear that Sinclair’s death was not a “one-off,” despite the conclusions of many media reporting at the time. Rather, his death represents the larger neglect of Indigenous peoples within Canada’s medical healthcare system and the ongoing racism ingrained within Canada’s institutions and culture.
The title of this book invites you to read this with empathy, anger, and sadness. The commentary of the authors is very well informed and researched and they are not scared of inserting important anecdotal details about daily life in Winnipeg. The reviews on Goodreads from non-Winnipeggers and treating Winnipeg as an Indigenous city was mooooost excellent. Currently I’m a resident of Pine Falls and I’m thankful for the bits of history of Fort Alexander, the paper mill, and the town I find myself in. This book is helping me continue my efforts to transform society.
The authors did a great job examining the colonial history and ongoing racism (notably missing from the inquiry) that contributed to Brian Sinclair’s death. As an emergency nurse this is both my worst nightmare and a situation that could plausibly happen anywhere.
This was the third read in my summer months practice of medical oppression and racism deep dives. There is no coincidence, no 'perfect storm', no blameless accident that led to he death of Brian Sinclair - he was invisibilized as a human being and patient in need of care through racism and ableism.
One of my friends this summer has had a mix of jobs including analyzing the effectiveness of international development programs as well as performing duties as a research assistant for one of his former professors. The professor he’s been working with has been putting together a book on the racism and inequities that Indigenous peoples face in Canada’s healthcare system, and so this has been an ongoing conversation between us while he’s been working on that book. The death of Joyce Echaquan in Quebec has been brought up by multiple people I’ve talked to this year. This book focuses on Manitoba’s healthcare system, but of course involves Canada’s entire system. My friend sent me a few resources regarding this issue, one was a study done in Toronto with over 800 Indigenous participants, 28.5% of whom experienced discrimination in Toronto’s healthcare system and 27.3% with unmet health needs. Another was a 2020 BC study that identified 8 Indigenous-specific stereotypes within the BC healthcare system (including ‘less worthy’ of care, drinkers/alcoholics, drug-seeking, bad parents, ‘frequent flyers’, irresponsible/non-compliers, less capable, unfairly advantaged) and only 16% of the study’s respondents did not experience profiling with respect to any of the eight identified stereotypes. A 2018 Public Health Agency of Canada report identifies a significantly higher incidence of arthritis, asthma, and diabetes among Indigenous populations and the incidence rates of active tuberculosis were 32 times higher for Indigenous people compared to Canadian-born non-Indigenous people. Another friend of mine sent me an article about a Senate report about Indigenous women still being forced and coerced into sterilization.
This book, Structures of Indifference, provides a very good historical context of Manitoba and its healthcare system, provides an overview of helpful theoretical tools for understanding the systemic racism that leads to many preventable deaths, including the death of Brian Sinclair a visibly disabled and visibly Indigenous man who was rendered just another drunk nuisance rather than a person in severe need of immediate healthcare and medical attention. TRC Calls to Action 18-24 lay out specific action items related to healthcare, including calls for sustainable funding of Indigenous healing centres and the recognition of Indigenous healing practices, and this is a bit part of the book my friend is working on.
This is an important issue, both as a contemporary political issue and a field of inquiry in the history of medicine and science & technology studies. There’s a book by Alondra Nelson I’d like to read soon about Black Panther Party health activism and their Free Medical Clinics; and also, a documentary called “Takeover” about the Young Lords seizing a dilapidated Bronx hospital with a specific list of demands, many of which were met. This book mentioned many of the Indigenous-led campaigns regarding health inequities in Canada, and I hope to learn more about them after reading this.
Important book for anyone to read who is working within institutions (health care, criminal/justice, education, etc.). It's a short book that's written matter-of-factly, but still worth the read.
This book should be required reading for anybody in the healthcare profession. It is rage-inducing, yet incredibly well written and thoroughly researched.
The story centers around Brian Sinclair, a middle-aged, disabled indigenous man who went to Winnipeg's Health Science Centre's ER in 2008 to simply have his catheter removed in a sterile environment and yet was ignored after *34* hours causing him to die of a bladder infection that could have simply been treated from antibiotics.
This book goes into great detail describing the many ways that the healthcare system fails indigenous people, explaining that they either receive substandard care, are viewed as undeserving of care, or just ignored in general.
There is great detail given in this book about the degree of segregation in our Healthcare system for those who are indigenous. All too often indigenous individuals in the hospital are stereotyped as drunk or homeless, and yet this attitude seems to persist that whatever happened "they did to themselves" as though how they've been treated by the Canadian government and by White society as a whole has had no effect on their health.
Although this story, and the inquest that followed in 2013, happened in Winnipeg, I have no doubt that there are many stories similar to Brian sinclairs which take place all across Canada. This was a very eye-opening read and just goes to show how important it is that we as the settler population increase our voices and ensure that the 94 calls to action - 7 of which discuss the role healthcare has played on colonialism and call on both the provincial and federal governments to make serious and far- reaching changes since "the current state of Aboriginal Health in Canada is a direct result of previous Canadian government policies." The fact that this kind of treatment occurred in 2008, and I'm sure still exist now sickens me.
We are taught that Aboriginal health is under the care of the federal government, but what I just read would have me believe that they actually don't receive any "care" at all. That "care" is extremely substandard to what any other Canadian would receive by comparison. It's shameful.
A concise and well-researched examination of how structural racism contributed to the death of Brian Sinclair at the Health Sciences Centre in Winnipeg. Reading about Brian's last hours moved me to tears, and I felt the horror as several bystanders attempted to find him medical help WHILE HE WAS IN AN EMERGENCY ROOM and were repeatedly ignored. This book is moving, but also stuffed full of important research into the history of Winnipeg, the hospital, and Indigenous people in Canada that contributed to medical staff's inexcusable treatment of Brian. I found the section on the hospital hard to get through as it was so dry and I found it hard to see the connections between it and Brian's situation. I wish there had been more exploration of how doctors and nurses are trained to work with Indigenous patients (as well as those who are homeless or using substances, as those were excuses given for the lack of services received) as the bias seems so obvious there.
A short but concise look at the health care system in Winnipeg. Although this book is very specific to Brian Sinclairs death and the history of Winnipeg it does also touch on universal topics of systemic racism in Canada towards Indigenous people. Separated into three parts, this book looks at the history of Winnipeg in general, beginning at settler colonial history all the way to the early 2000s and how that history greatly impacted the landscape of Winnipeg. Next it examines the history of the hospital Brian Sinclair was seeking aid. Lastly on the life of Brian Sinclair himself. Although this book is very specific to Sinclairs death as mentioned in this book Canada knows and has heard of many Sinclair stories. This book really makes you think about universal healthcare in Canada who it is really trying to treat and protect vs historically segregate.
Brian Sinclair goes to the hospital to receive care, but he dies after 23 hours of sitting in the waiting room without ever being treated.
This is a look at what has transpired through the years between Canada and their indigenous people.
This is a great read that brings the history to the forefront, but tells the story of what Brian Sinclair endured both in life and death as an indigenous person in Winnipeg. You may think that the story took place many, many years ago, but in fact it took place in 2008
Thank you University of Manitoba Press and 49th Self
This book eloquently introduces how racism and indifference towards Indigenous peoples lead to the death of Brian Sinclair, an Anishinaabe man who was neglected in a Winnipeg hospital waiting room for 34 hours until he died. The inquiry and news reporting about his death focussed on flaws in the ER's design, but the authors point out that over 150 other patients were successfully seen during that time - the problem wasn't just triage but repeated assumptions that because of his race, disability, and economic status, Sinclair was simply a drunk homeless man hanging around in the waiting room.
The book is overall excellently-written and engaging, but sadly the intro makes it seem way more boring than it actually is. The intro mostly focusses on establishing the book's place amongst other academic studies, and uses dense academic language. It's part of any academically-published book's job to establish its role and new contribution, and to acknowledge all the other scholars that provided some of its ideas. But if you're reading as someone who just wants to become more informed about colonialism and racism in Canada, it might turn you off because it's so dense. And in my (academic) opinion much of it was vague and didn't connect fully to the rest of the work, so even if you're reading for class you might skim it.
Really important read. The medical realities experienced by Indigenous peoples in Canada should make all of us ashamed that our "universal health care" is such an important element of our national identity. People with Indian status as per the 1876 Indian Act have an entirely different health care system from which their treatment is funded; a system that was built directly off of the one that administered residential schools and Indian hospitals. And that is what we refer to as 'medical apartheid'
Yeah, it's a must read for anyone living in Winnipeg or Manitoba, or Canada, or anyone who cares about reconciliation or about learning about settler colonialism.
It's exactly what it says. A look into the structures of indifference that lead to the death of Brian Sinclair in a horrific turn of events thst led to him dying in an ER waiting room after being ignored and unattended to for over thirty-four hours from an easily treatable infection due to institutionalized racism and indifference.
So this was such an eye opening read! I really liked how the book was structured, going from system to system. It did a great job at making me understand how the event of Brian Sinclair's death was a product of these systems, that are rooted in Canadian history. It is a must read for all of us that are interested in the history of indigenous marginalisation within Canada.
This book was a concise, but thoughtful probe into the systemic issues facing our Indigenous peoples in health care, and by extension, other colonial structures. Highlighting the refusal to acknowledge tropes and inherent racism, even within the inquiry itself, this should be mandatory reading for anyone employed in the public sector...or really, just anyone.
This is a great academic book that analyzes systemic racism, specifically in health care perpetuated against Indigenous patients. The story of Brian Sinclair's death is unjust to say the least. The way that public officials responded to his death is enraging. Sadly, this story is far too common.
This is a short, well researched book that examines how colonialism and systemic racism contributed to the death of Brian Sinclair in the Health Sciences Centre in Winnipeg.
This was obviously hard to read. What happened to Brian Sinclair is absolutely tragic and definitely could have been prevented. The Canadian health system is not set up to help everyone.