Background: Gender is an important social determinant, that influences healthcare. The lack of awareness on how gender influences health might lead to gender bias and can contribute to substandard patient care. Our objectives were to assess gender sensitivity and the presence of gender stereotypes among swiss medical students. Methods: A validated scale (N-GAMS-Nijmegen Gender Awareness in Medicine Scale), with 3 subscores assessing gender sensitivity (GS) and gender stereotypes toward patients (GRIP) and doctors (GRID) (ranging from 1 to 5), was translated into French and was distributed to all medical students registered at the University of Lausanne, Switzerland in April-May 2017. Reliability of the three subscales was assessed calculating the alpha Cronbach coefficient. Mean subscales were calculated for male and female students and compared using two sample t-tests. A linear model was built with each subscale as a dependent variable and students' sex and age as covariables. Results: In total, 396 students answered the N-GAMS questionnaire, their mean age was 22 years old, 62.6% of them were women. GS and GRID sub-scores were not significantly different between female and male students (GS 3.62 for women, 3.70 for men, p = 0.27, GRID 2.10 for women, 2.13 for men, p = 0.76). A statistically significant difference was found in the GRIP subscale, with a mean score of 1.83 for women and 2.07 for men (p < 0.001), which suggests a more gender stereotyped opinion toward patients among male students. A trend was observed with age, gender sensibility increased (p < 0.001) and stereotypes decreased (GRIP p = 0.04, GRID p = 0.02) with students getting older. Conclusion: Medical students' gender sensitivity seems to improve throughout the medical curriculum, and women students have less stereotypes towards patients than men do. The implementation of a gender-sensitive teaching in the medical curriculum could improve students' knowledge, limit gender bias and improve patients' care.

Yes, I am ill. But you know dozens, hundreds of madmen are walking about in freedom because your ignorance is incapable of distinguishing them from the sane. Why am I and these poor wretches to be shut up here like scapegoats for all the rest? You, your assistant, the superintendent, and all your hospital rabble, are immeasurably inferior to every one of us morally; why then are we shut up and you not?-Anton Chekhov, 'Ward No. 6' (1892) This past year marked the thirtieth anniversary of Roy Porter's seminal 1985 article, 'The Patient's View: Doing Medical History from Below'. 1 Few works in the history of medicine have received so enthusiastic a reception. Porter's call to reclaim the voice of the voiceless has had an extraordinary echo, becoming not only a necessary reference but also a classic trope. This is especially the case among historians of psychiatry. In a field where patient narratives have long formed their own subgenre, shedding light on these hitherto unheard stories taps into popular fantasies probed by Porter himself-images of gothic madhouses and their gloomy inhabitants; whispers and cries; dark corridors encased in windowless walls, their interiors mirroring the mind gone astray. 2 So ubiquitous is this imagined space that some have recently proposed to create an independent research area dedicated to 'Mad Studies'. 3 Fetishised, mythicised, ostracised, the psychiatric patient has emerged as an unlikely protagonist, capturing the scholarly, cultural and artistic imagination alike. Yet recent assessments suggest that Porter's call has not fully been heard. The history of the patient remains 'curiously underwritten' in several areas, some have claimed. 4 The authors would like to thank Stephen T. Casper and Mark S. Micale for their insightful comments on this article. Earlier versions of this piece were presented by the first author at the Psychiatry and Culture in Historical Perspective Working Group (Yale) and by the second author at the 'Quelle histoire pour la médecine et la science? Dialogues autour d'une oeuvre' seminar (Institute of the History of Medicine, Lausanne-IUHMSP). Thanks are due to the participants of these events for bringing forth new ideas, especially Matthew Gambino and Mical Raz (Yale) and Vincent Barras and Francesco Panese (Lausanne). Finally, the authors would like to acknowledge the assistance of three anonymous reviewers for their helpful suggestions. This work was made possible by a Banting Postdoctoral Fellowship to the first author.

Aude FAUVEL In 1895, Henry Lanchester learned that his daughter Edith had fallen in love with a man who was not only poor, but also socialist and Irish; worse, she was intending to live with him out of wedlock. Thrown by the situation, Lanchester turned to the psychiatrist George Fielding Blandford 1 , who decreed that Edith's "free love" was tantamount to "social suicide" and that his daughter could now be viewed as a "monomaniac" whose brain had been "turned by socialism" 2. Lanchester was reassured. Edith was hospitalised "as a matter of ugency"-a radical means of curbing her tendencies towards revolt 3. This story, like many of its kind, serves to illustrate a classic thesis upheld by many women historians, 4 that psychiatry probably qualifies as the sexist science par excellence. Psychiatrists not only nourished the discourse on the inferiority of the "weaker sex", they also literally contributed to the exclusion of women, by agreeing to hospitalise those who, like Edith, refused to bend to the wishes of men. Since the 1970s and the entry of feminist criticism into the human sciences, 1

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En 1880, un événement tragique se produit dans le plus grand asile de France à Clermont (Oise). Un jeune fou est sauvagement battu puis tué par un de ceux qui était pourtant censé veiller à son rétablissement, le gardien-chef. À première vue, il ne s’agit que d’un fait divers sordide, juste révélateur des violences qui pouvaient parfois être subies par les aliénés. Mais au-delà de l’horreur du drame de 1880 se cache un matériau précieux pour qui s’intéresse à l’histoire de la folie en France. En effet, l’enquête et le scandale qui suivent l’assassinat forcent l’asile à ouvrir ses portes au monde extérieur. Fait exceptionnel, l’historien dispose ainsi de témoignages de malades qui livrent directement leur opinion sur leur quotidien, sans passer par l’intermédiaire du psychiatre. Autre originalité : la presse se sert de l’affaire de Clermont pour critiquer profondément la façon dont les fous sont traités. La pression est telle que les pouvoirs publics s’engagent à réformer la loi fixant les principes de la prise en charge des aliénés. Ces paroles de patients, ces articles de presse donnent donc une tout autre vision de la façon dont la folie était perçue et gérée à la fin du XIXe siècle que les archives médicales sur lesquelles se sont plus souvent penchés les historiens de la psychiatrie. Les sources originales que l’affaire de Clermont met au jour invitent ainsi à revoir, ou tout le moins à nuancer, la thèse du triomphe de la psychiatrie sur le monde de la folie à la fin du XIXe siècle.