Gray’s Anatomy is easily recognized worldwide as one of the most revered and influential medical texts of all time. But a closer examination of its medical history turns up tales of a disgraceful birth and hints that its author, Henry Gray, may have been a bit of a fraudster.

Notes, publications, and diary entries from Gray’s colleagues suggest that the famous author may have plagiarized numerous passages of the text and was pushy, cut-throat, and resented, a new commentary piece in the journal Clinical Anatomy argues. While the allegations are not new, one researcher claims to have fresh data that refutes them, urging a renewed dissection of Gray’s character and actions.

The commentary’s author, Ruth Richardson, a medical historian and visiting scholar at King’s College London, wrote about Gray’s alleged cheating ways in her 2008 book, The Making of Mr. Gray’s Anatomy. But in a 2014 scientific conference, anatomy professor Brion Benninger, of the College of Osteopathic Medicine of the Pacific – Northwest, publicly announced that he and a colleague had carried out a computer analysis of the text and found no such evidence of plagiarism. He said that he intended to publish the analysis. But, in the year since, he has not produced any data.

Oddly, when Ars reached out to Benninger, he promptly responded, confirming that he does indeed have data that refutes the allegations against Gray and is prepared to comment on that data. But when we followed up to schedule an interview and request to see the data, he did not respond.

Nevertheless, in the new commentary Richardson rehashes the historical evidence against Gray in preparation for a possible debate on the matter if new data is revealed.

An unscrupulous assumption

Perhaps the most damning evidence against Gray is an 1859 review in the Medical Times and Gazette written by an anonymous reviewer—as was customary at the time. The review was published just a year after the first edition of Gray’s textbook, originally titled Anatomy, Descriptive and Surgical, and seemed to have been written by someone who previously admired Gray’s work. Yet, the reviewer regretfully claimed, in no uncertain terms, that Gray had stolen the structure and content of his book from several other anatomists, in particular John Quain’s Elements of Anatomy.

The reviewer backed up the claims by publishing side-by-side comparisons of nearly 20 excerpts from Gray’s textbook and Quain’s, which showed striking similarities. The reviewer noted that the excerpts were just a fraction of such instances. Gray’s textbook, the reviewer concluded, is a “debased compilation and unscrupulous assumption” of Quain’s work.

Gray never responded to the review, and no other reviewers published a rebuttal. Professor Susan Standring, the current editor-in-chief of Gray’s Anatomy, holds that the review of the first edition was accurate and that the excerpts speak for themselves, Richardson reports.

The second edition of the textbook, published in 1860, notably included a new paragraph—set in tiny type—that acknowledged the work of twenty-or-so of Gray’s colleagues, including Quain. No explanation or apology was provided.

Also concerning are records of how Gray treated the textbook’s talented illustrator, Henry Vandyke Carter. Diary entries from Carter, a professor of anatomy in Bombay, reveal that Carter had been reluctant to work with Gray on the textbook. They had worked together in the past on a piece about the human spleen, which Carter also illustrated. Gray paid Carter below-standard wages for the work and never acknowledged his contribution in the publication, even after it won a prestigious medical award.

Immature and Insecure

Still, out of the need for money and badgering from Gray, Carter eventually agreed to work on the textbook—as long as he was acknowledged. But, preserved portions of the final proof copy of the text, marked up for editing by Gray, reveal that the author seemed to begrudge Carter the credit. Richardson describe the edits in the commentary:

“The proof sheet of the first edition title page had been nicely laid out by the printer according to the publishers’ usual design: title, author, illustrator, publisher. But Gray scored right through Carter’s name twice, demanding that it be re-typeset in a much smaller type-size, inconsequential in comparison to that used for his own name higher up the page. Gray also eradicated Carter’s new job-title as a Professor of Anatomy in Bombay by scoring it through. Such force was exerted on the nib of his pen that it remains evident in the splayed breadth of the deeply scored line it left behind: so determinedly was it done that the printed words are almost completely obliterated.”

After crossing out Carter’s then current title, all that was left was a note of his former position—“Late Demonstrator of Anatomy,” which gave the impression that Carter was both subordinate to Gray and deceased.

At least one other colleague has recorded being ticked off by Gray, Richardson notes. Robert Lee, who worked in obstetrics, had made a notable observation about the anatomy of the uterus, which was included in Gray’s textbook. However, the contribution was not acknowledged.

In an 1861 diary entry, Lee wrote: “The conduct of Mr Gray in respect to the ganglia & nerves of the uterus and heart in his Anatomy most unjust and very disgraceful. He promised a reparation of the injury in the 2 ̊ edition but there was none.”

By that time, however, Henry Gray had died. At 34 years old, he died of a particularly nasty form of smallpox. All of his belongings and documents were lost, likely burned in an attempt to avoid spreading the disease.

Still, Richardson concludes that “taken together, these evidences indicate traits of character which exhibit Gray’s inclination toward garnering credit—intellectual and financial—to himself, at others’ cost,” and “reveal the vanity of an immature, insecure man.”

Clinical Anatomy, 2015. DOI: 10.1002/ca.22681 (About DOIs).