J. Marion Sims: Why the Father of Modern Gynecology is History’s Most Polarizing Figure

J. Marion Sims: Why the Father of Modern Gynecology is History’s Most Polarizing Figure

Walk into the Central Park of a few years ago, and you would have seen a bronze man staring out from a pedestal. That man was J. Marion Sims. For over a century, he was lauded as the father of modern gynecology, a title earned through surgical breakthroughs that saved countless women from a lifetime of social exile and physical pain. But the statue is gone now. It was hauled away in 2018. Why? Because the foundation of modern women’s health was built on the bodies of enslaved Black women who couldn't say no.

History is rarely clean. It’s messy, often violent, and incredibly complicated. When we talk about the father of modern gynecology, we aren't just talking about a doctor who invented the speculum or figured out how to fix a fistula. We are talking about the ethics of progress. We're asking if a medical "miracle" is still a miracle if it was born in a backyard hospital in Alabama using non-consensual experiments. It’s a heavy topic. Honestly, it's one that makes many people deeply uncomfortable.

The Problem Sims Set Out to Solve

Back in the mid-1800s, there was a condition that essentially ruined a woman's life: vesicovaginal fistula. It usually happened after a traumatic, prolonged labor. The pressure of the baby’s head would cut off blood flow, creating a hole between the bladder and the vagina. The result? Constant, uncontrollable leaking of urine.

It wasn't just a medical issue. It was a social death sentence. These women smelled. They were often shunned by their families. They suffered from horrific skin infections. Doctors at the time basically thought it was incurable. Then came Sims. He was a young surgeon in Montgomery, Alabama, and he became obsessed with finding a fix.

He wasn't always interested in women's health. In his own autobiography, The Story of My Life, Sims admitted he initially found the field "distasteful." But a series of cases changed his mind. He set up a small hospital in his backyard and started taking in enslaved women who suffered from fistulas. Their owners were more than happy to send them; a woman who couldn't work or bear children was seen as a "damaged" asset in the brutal logic of the plantation economy.

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Anarcha, Betsey, and Lucy: The Real Mothers of Gynecology

If Sims is the father, these women are the mothers. Anarcha is the name you need to know. She was an enslaved woman, roughly 17 years old, who had suffered through a three-day labor. Sims operated on Anarcha about 30 times. Read that again. Thirty surgeries. Without anesthesia.

This is where the "father of modern gynecology" title gets dark. Sims claimed that anesthesia—which was brand new at the time—wasn't necessary for these procedures because it was "not safe" or because he believed Black people didn't feel pain the same way white people did. This was a common, racist myth of the era, and Sims leaned into it. He spent four years experimenting on Anarcha, Betsey, Lucy, and several other unnamed women.

  • Lucy nearly died of blood poisoning after a surgery where Sims used a silver suture.
  • Anarcha endured years of repeated failure before Sims finally perfected the technique using silver wire.
  • Betsey was subjected to numerous trials as Sims refined the positioning and tools.

Eventually, he succeeded. The silver sutures worked. He moved to New York, founded the Woman’s Hospital—the first of its kind in the United States—and became the darling of the medical world. He treated European royalty. He was elected president of the American Medical Association. He was a superstar.

The Speculum and the "Sims Position"

If you've ever been to a gynecologist, you've encountered his legacy. It’s inescapable. The speculum? He didn't invent the concept, but he revolutionized the design. Legend has it he got the idea from a pewter spoon. He realized that by positioning a woman on her side (now called the Sims Position) and using a device to pull back the vaginal walls, he could actually see what he was doing.

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It was a game-changer. Before this, doctors often worked "blind," using touch alone because "modesty" prevented them from looking. Sims pushed past that. He insisted on visual examination. While this was a massive leap for diagnostic accuracy, the way he developed these methods remains the core of the controversy.

What Most People Get Wrong About the Controversy

Some people try to defend Sims by saying, "He was a man of his time." They argue that the women "consented" because they wanted to be cured. This is a massive oversimplification that ignores the reality of slavery. An enslaved person cannot give consent. Their bodies belonged to their masters, who made the deal with Sims.

Others argue that without his work, women would still be suffering from fistulas today. This is the "ends justify the means" argument. But even in the 1840s, Sims had critics. There were other doctors who questioned the morality of his repeated, painful surgeries on a vulnerable population.

The real nuance lies in acknowledging two truths at once:

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  1. Sims developed surgical techniques that have saved millions of women from physical agony.
  2. He did so by exploiting enslaved Black women in a way that violated every modern (and many contemporary) ethical standards.

The Lasting Impact on Black Maternal Health

This isn't just a history lesson. It has real-world consequences in 2026. The myth that Black people feel less pain—the one Sims helped perpetuate—still exists in the medical field today.

Studies, like the one published in PNAS in 2016, have shown that a significant number of medical students and residents still hold false beliefs about biological differences between Black and white patients. This leads to under-treatment of pain and contributed to the current crisis where Black women are significantly more likely to die in childbirth than white women. When we look at the father of modern gynecology, we have to look at the shadow he cast over the doctor-patient relationship for people of color.

Why the Title Still Matters

We shouldn't stop talking about Sims. Erasing him from the history books doesn't help. We need to understand the origins of our medical systems to fix the biases baked into them. Many activists and historians now suggest we should shift our focus. Instead of only honoring the "father," we should honor the "Mothers of Modern Gynecology"—Anarcha, Betsey, and Lucy.

In 2018, when the statue was removed from Central Park, it wasn't about "canceling" history. It was about choosing who we hold up as heroes. A hero isn't just someone who discovers a cure; it's someone who upholds the dignity of their patients.

Actionable Insights and Next Steps

If you are interested in the history of medicine or are a healthcare provider, here is how you can apply this knowledge:

  • Read the Primary Sources: Don't take a side without reading Sims' own words in The Story of My Life. It's revealing. Also, look into Medical Apartheid by Harriet A. Washington. It is the definitive text on this subject.
  • Audit Bias in Practice: If you work in healthcare, actively challenge the "pain tolerance" myths. Use standardized pain scales and listen to patients when they say something is wrong.
  • Acknowledge the Women: When discussing gynecological history, name Anarcha, Betsey, and Lucy. Recognition is a form of justice.
  • Support Health Equity: The disparities Sims' work helped create are still here. Support organizations like the National Birth Equity Collaborative that work to close the gap in maternal health outcomes.

The legacy of the father of modern gynecology is a reminder that medical progress must never come at the expense of human rights. We can appreciate the science while condemning the method. Moving forward requires us to be honest about the past, no matter how much it stings.