 A third challenge is that not all acts that are generally assumed to violate informed consent seem contrary to autonomous decision-making. Suppose that a sufficiently capacitated adult patient refuses a safe, beneficial, and time-sensitive surgery to prevent a moderate disability, due to a simple misunderstanding of medical facts. There is no time to convince him of his mistake. Being uninformed, his decision cannot count as autonomous. But present medical practices surrounding informed consent continue to forbid, possibly for good reasons, forcing care on such a patient—for example, strapping him to the bed to deliver an operation. In such instances, the problem with forced care cannot be simply violation of autonomy. Some have argued in somewhat similar cases that forced care is legitimate, because it would contravene “mere desire” not “rational desire” (Savulescu 1994), and because “the state has the right to prevent self-regarding harmful conduct…when… that conduct is substantially nonvoluntary…” (Feinberg 1986, 12). A different possible conclusion is that present informed consent practices are sound, they just rest on justifications other than respect for personal autonomy; surely a “No” to an intervention in the body is often a “No” even when the patient lacks the capacity or the information to authorize an autonomous “Yes” (compare Estlund 2007, 121–5; Gunderson 1990). A third possible conclusion is that while what is wrong with forced care in this setting is the violation of autonomy, what “autonomy” means here is simply a domain over which one should remain sovereign and have the final say, even if uninformed, incapacitated, and so forth (Enoch 2017, 31–32). This, however, is not how “autonomy” is used in bioethics.