A rather insistent cross-examiner asks a pathologist whether he can be absolutely sure that a certain patient was dead before he began the autopsy. The pathologist says he's absolutely certain. Oh, but how can you be so sure? Because, the pathologist says, his brain was in a jar sitting on my desk. But, says the cross-examiner, could the patient still have been alive nevertheless? Well, comes the answer, it's possible he could have been alive and practicing law somewhere.
In "The Children Act" by Ian McEwan, a rather stubborn cross-examiner questions a pathologist's confidence in determining a patient's death prior to an autopsy. The pathologist asserts that he is completely certain, citing that the patient's brain is preserved in a jar on his desk as evidence. However, the cross-examiner challenges this certainty by suggesting that the patient could still be alive, humorously implying that he might be practicing law elsewhere.
This exchange highlights the tension between scientific certainty and the philosophical ambiguity of life and death. The pathologist’s dry humor underscores the irony of the situation, as he confronts the absurdity of debating the deadness of someone whose brain is physically separated from their body. McEwan skillfully uses this moment to explore themes of existential uncertainty and the complexities of human experience.
