Infrastructures of reuse cluster: reflections from our first meeting

For the first meeting of the Infrastructures of Reuse cluster, on 27 January 2026, we discussed three sources: a short film (1938), an advertisement (1950), and an economic report (1961). Together, they offered a striking historical snapshot of how sterility, labour, and hospital efficiency were framed in the mid-20th century—before disposable medical plastics became dominant. 

Below are some of the key takeaways from our discussion. 

The film: Modern Aseptic Operating Technique (1938) 

This is a 15-minute, black-and-white, silent film produced in England, probably for educating future healthcare workers. It shows nurses—all women—preparing an operating room for an aseptic surgical procedure: sterilizing instruments, cleaning surfaces, scrubbing their arms, and displaying all the medical devices that will be used during the operation. 

The absence of sound focuses attention on each gesture meticulously performed. The camera focusses on the nurses’ hands, which move with great dexterity and skill. It suggests that each gesture must have been repeated many times to achieve such precision. The scene feels like a religious ritual: only when all steps are performed perfectly does the miracle of sterility occur. 

In the background, almost everything is made of shiny metal: clamps, scalpels, forceps, carts, trays, basins, but also the sterilizing drums, boiling pans, and autoclaves. Apart from metal, one can see chemicals stored in glass bottles, gloves made of natural rubber, and large amounts of linen (drapes, swabs, bandages). As Peter pointed out, this film offers a radically different picture from today, since no disposable or plastic devices are anywhere to be seen.  

The film shows the diversity of procedures used to produce sterile devices: steam sterilization, boiling water, and chemical disinfection (carbolic acid, formaldehyde, methylated spirit, on a bottle labeled “Poison”). In addition, surfaces, instruments, and bodies are scrubbed, swiped, and rinsed. All these steps are carried out with the elusive goal of achieving perfect asepsis to protect patients from infections. 

The chemicals, as Nandu noted, have had many lives and are used in a wide diversity of contexts. Because they have been selected for their ability to kill germs, they may also be toxic to humans, especially through inhalation by the nurses handling them. Together with the fact that the nurses are operating with steam and cleaning soiled instruments without any protection, this suggests that patients’ safety ranks higher than that of the nurses in this setting. This instructional film also makes a statement about who deserves protection and seems to draw on the well-entrenched values of nursing as a self-sacrificing vocation. 

The advertisement: “Cyclo-Modernize” (Modern Hospital, 74(1), January 1950) 

In this full-page advertisement, aimed at hospital administrators and managers—and perhaps other constituencies, as Andrea points out—the American Sterilizer Company promotes their Cyclomatic Control, an electric controller for “American” sterilizers. It adopts modernist aesthetics, with a magical glow surrounding the controller, prominent gauges, dials, and buttons, and a slick, minimalist composition. The modernist call is made explicit in the tagline (in full caps): “CYCLO-MODERNIZE!” 

“Modernization” in 1950 means “automation”, the “push button” simplicity praised by the American Sterilizer Company. It draws on the value of scientific precision (“split-second precision”) and made-up scientific jargon (“electromatically”). Yet the ad reassures those who remain wary of seeing humans displaced by machines by stating that it can remain “manually controlled in event of current failure.” 

The advertisement leans on the 1950s cultural appeal of hedonism and comfort (“enjoy ‘push button’”).  

But the most explicit promise is neither pleasure nor convenience, but financial savings. The currency is “time” and “labor” at a moment of skyrocketing demand for hospital care in the United States, a severe shortage of nurses, and exploding costs. As Nandu points out, this “all American” advertisement for devices manufactured in the United States contrasts sharply with today’s global supply chains and corporations. 

The economic report: “Disposable Hospital Devices Gain” (The New York Times, 5 February 1961) 

This article, published on the front page of The New York Times’ business section, outlines a “trend towards increasing the use of disposable hospital and medical equipment.”  

It reads like a promotional piece for disposables, crafting a narrative—vigorously pushed by industry in advertisements at the same time—in which disposables are presented as the solution to the prevalent problem of cross-infections. The piece reports on the “tragic case in New Jersey” where “more than a dozen persons died of hepatitis reportedly caused by a contaminated injection needle or infusion apparatus,” and then suggests that disposables would have avoided that tragedy. What the piece does not say is that the case involved an osteopath specialising in neuropsychiatry, who indeed used improperly sterilised syringes in his private practice, not in a hospital setting. 

The article also implausibly implies that the risk of improperly sterilized needles is equivalent to that of contaminated mattress covers, masks, and waste containers, which should all be converted to disposables. As Dani pointed out, much like during the Covid-19 pandemic, the fear of infection was used to advocate for presumably safer disposables.  

Beyond safety, the piece advocates a transition to disposables to “shave costs” by adopting this “labor-saving equipment.” The economics of healthcare are treated like those of any other economic sector and submitted to the same rationale of increased profits. Since hospitals, unlike industry, cannot reduce costs through automation alone, they must turn to other cost-saving measures, such as disposables, explains the author. 

As Peter noted, the costs of disposing of disposables are entirely absent from this piece. The cost of incinerating disposable plastic devices turned out to be significant, as American hospitals found out in the 1960s. Similarly, the article makes the surprising claim that disposables reduce storage space, whereas at the time even promoters of disposables acknowledged that the need for increased storage space was one of their few disadvantages.  

Eloïse drew attention to the fact that the article, aimed at the business community, explained that selling disposable devices had become more difficult since procurement decisions were being made by “people in the hospital who actually use the product.” Consequently, “salesmen, perforce, must be able to demonstrate and create a demand for their company's line on a professional level.” This change in the organisation of procurement helps explain why advertisements for medical devices increasingly draw on scientific and clinical evidence to convince potential buyers. 

As Andreas noted, the targets of the medical device industry could include lab scientists and pharmacists, as well as clinicians. 

Peter suggested that we be attentive, in our different case studies, to who actually decides which medical devices are purchased. Nandu also pointed out that we should examine carefully who actually pays for the medical devices used in a hospital. In India, corporate hospitals are branded as safer than public hospitals and can bill patients (or their private insurance) for the costs of disposable devices. 

He also pointed to the semantic proximity between “hospital” and “hospitality,” suggesting that hospitals adopted practices from the hotel business, with its emphasis on personal supplies used only once. 

Finally, when describing the new disposable products, the article mentions the word “plastic” just once, preferring brand names of new synthetic materials such as Marlex and Dura-Weve. In doing so, it avoids the negative connotations of plastic, which, as cultural historian Jeffrey L. Meikle argued, derived from its use as a material employed for the imitation of traditional materials such as metal, glass, and linen. 

Conclusion 

These three sources point to a period when, in the United States at least, the cultural, moral, and economic values of disposables were defined. It is astonishing how quickly these associations between disposables, safety, savings, and convenience became naturalised — and how enduring they have remained to the present day.