Ink for the End Times: Blood Type Tattoos in Response to Atomic Fears
Carter Wright, Ethan To, and Amelie Fleury, Baylor University
During the height of the Cold War, a variety of public health initiatives were undertaken to prepare for the threat of nuclear war. In the early 1950s, physicians embarked on a little-known public health campaign to create “walking blood banks” by tattooing adults and children as young as infants with their blood type. Inspired by a similar project undertaken by the Nazi’s during World War II, project “tat-type” was carried out in schools and marketed towards children and families. While the project only lasted a few years, tens of thousands of Midwestern Americans received discrete tattoos of their blood type with the hopes that they could give and receive essential medical services in the event of a mass causality.
The success of the project was due in no small part by the support of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. Bishops in churches throughout the Midwest convinced their parishioners that these tattoos not only were exempt from the Church’s general prohibition against tattoos, but that receiving the tattoos was both patriotic and part of their religious obligations to help their neighbors. In Salt Lake City, a permanent clinic was opened and was so successful that the department of public health nursing considered it their biggest victory of the year in 1951. Compared to our current era of suspicion and distrust surrounding public health campaigns, project tat-type’s services were a promising, albeit fraught model for aligning public health with religious obligations.
Given the scope of project tat-type it is surprising how few bioethicists and public health researchers have written about the campaign. Our investigation of the project began with a shocking revelation by the grandmother of one of our co-leaders. At 94 years old, “Grandma Nancy” recalls gathering her brothers to take them to their local elementary school to be tattooed. She had been encouraged by her parents to do so, on the prompting of their local Bishop. Grandma Nancy was not alone, our archival research reveals that many Americans participated in project tat-type, often even paying for the tattoos themselves. LDS churches and civil defense agencies in Gary, Indiana, and Jackson, Michigan, Salt Lake City and Milford, Utah, promoted mobile tattooing vans. Local newspapers advertised the project, ensuring Americans that tattoos were patriotic and not merely for “carnie freaks”. Some of the language used in papers to advertise the project involved questionable language surrounding obligation to government, roles of women, and dignity of human life. School yearbooks have also been documented to catalogue the tattooing of young children. Through archival research, we have been able to map the spread of the project, its various endorsements, and the general reception of the tattoos.
This presentation will explore the ethics surrounding the alliance between public health and religion. We will question if religious institutions ought to partner with civil defense agencies to promote public health initiatives as well as the role of church hierarchies in requiring or strongly encouraging the laity to serve their nation through public health projects. Can such alliances promote conflicts of interest as well as public benefit? Do such initiatives preserve or compromise human dignity? We will conclude with lessons learned from our research for our contemporary healthcare, which has seen heightened conflict between religious organizations and public health initiatives.
The success of the project was due in no small part by the support of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. Bishops in churches throughout the Midwest convinced their parishioners that these tattoos not only were exempt from the Church’s general prohibition against tattoos, but that receiving the tattoos was both patriotic and part of their religious obligations to help their neighbors. In Salt Lake City, a permanent clinic was opened and was so successful that the department of public health nursing considered it their biggest victory of the year in 1951. Compared to our current era of suspicion and distrust surrounding public health campaigns, project tat-type’s services were a promising, albeit fraught model for aligning public health with religious obligations.
Given the scope of project tat-type it is surprising how few bioethicists and public health researchers have written about the campaign. Our investigation of the project began with a shocking revelation by the grandmother of one of our co-leaders. At 94 years old, “Grandma Nancy” recalls gathering her brothers to take them to their local elementary school to be tattooed. She had been encouraged by her parents to do so, on the prompting of their local Bishop. Grandma Nancy was not alone, our archival research reveals that many Americans participated in project tat-type, often even paying for the tattoos themselves. LDS churches and civil defense agencies in Gary, Indiana, and Jackson, Michigan, Salt Lake City and Milford, Utah, promoted mobile tattooing vans. Local newspapers advertised the project, ensuring Americans that tattoos were patriotic and not merely for “carnie freaks”. Some of the language used in papers to advertise the project involved questionable language surrounding obligation to government, roles of women, and dignity of human life. School yearbooks have also been documented to catalogue the tattooing of young children. Through archival research, we have been able to map the spread of the project, its various endorsements, and the general reception of the tattoos.
This presentation will explore the ethics surrounding the alliance between public health and religion. We will question if religious institutions ought to partner with civil defense agencies to promote public health initiatives as well as the role of church hierarchies in requiring or strongly encouraging the laity to serve their nation through public health projects. Can such alliances promote conflicts of interest as well as public benefit? Do such initiatives preserve or compromise human dignity? We will conclude with lessons learned from our research for our contemporary healthcare, which has seen heightened conflict between religious organizations and public health initiatives.