In an article in the July issue of Emerging Infectious Diseases, just out, Piarroux and colleagues assert that (quoting from their abstract) “Our findings strongly suggest that contamination of the Artibonite [River] and 1 of its tributaries downstream from a military camp triggered the epidemic.”

So the mystery is solved, more or less.  The news media have taken note:  articles on the EID report have already been written by the AP, Guardian, and other sources, and are being picked up fairly widely today.

The news, based on a report ordered by UN Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon,  is being treated as an about-face on the UN’s part — because the organization, along with WHO and CDC, refused last fall to do an in-depth investigation of the origin of the outbreak.  So, according to the media’s coverage, this week’s report exposes some hypocrisy on the part of the health organizations.

That’s silly, and wrong.   I’m usually critical of WHO and CDC, but in the case of the Haitian outbreak they were completely correct to refuse to “investigate.”  As I wrote last fall, cholera isn’t a detective story, it’s a disaster.  To investigate the so-called origin of an outbreak that is as self-evidently the result of  calamitous conditions, state poverty, and helpless officialdom is to shift the blame.  Dodge the truth.

The work by Piarroux and colleagues in establishing a clear description of the origin and progress of the Haitian outbreak is impressive, often elegant, quite convincing.  But to believe, as some do, that it somehow proves that the UN and WHO are responsible for a catastrophe, or that sending foreigners into Haiti is always bad, or even that (as the authors of the EID paper say)

Putting an end to the controversy over the cholera origin could ease prevention and treatment by decreasing the distrust associated with the widespread suspicions of a cover-up of a deliberate importation of cholera

is to misunderstand public health.

The problem in Haiti is, and has been, a problem of predisposition — nature out of balance, people on the move, dire straits of all kinds (food, medicine, clean water, toilets, housing, etc.)  too tolerable to weak leaders.  Colonization by one aid group after another (UN included).  It was inevitable that cholera was going to break out.

To take the Piarroux report as definitive is to mistake the germ for the disease, mistake the outbreak for the problem, mistake the detective story for the real disaster — the real disaster being self-explanatory and not in need of “investigation”:  not enough money and not enough political will to keep the public from getting sick.

Phillips’s focus in that post is on a new WHO Atlas on headaches

and the problem that headaches cause people to stay home from work, or work less productively.   The agency estimates that Europe-wide, the lost productivity from migraines alone is worth 155 billion euros each year.  It isn’t that you feel crummy when your head hurts, and that chronic headache makes your life miserable.  It’s that you might not perform your expected per-capita service to the expansion of wealth.

Here’s how EP-ology assesses the agency:

The WHO is not the humanitarian organization that many people might think it is.  It is a special-interest medical-industry-oriented organization with an emphasis on the interests of governments, not people.  Its emphasis on productivity in looking at headaches … ignores people’s welfare…

Now, I can’t agree with Phillips’s analysis that the WHO’s ethical system is either “communist” or “fascist.”  For self-described public health agencies like the WHO to be concerned primarily with productivity and the generation of wealth — and only secondarily, if at all, with suffering — has been a hallmark of capitalism since the British Parliament passed the world’s first Public Health Act in 1848.

In fact, the laws institutionalizing public health in Britain in the late 1840s were passed by the Whig (liberal, more or less) government of Lord John Russell.  Public health was a legacy of efforts not by the nascent socialist and communist movements, but by radical capitalists — who sought to secure a moderately hale labor force to serve British industry with little cost to the factory owners.  And aimed to blame individuals for their own misery.

But it’s impossible to disagree with the main point of Phillips’s post:  WHO’s aim is to serve industry.

As further evidence, consider this follow-up note on Tamiflu by Helen Epstein, published in the May 26th issue of NY Review of Books (I discussed Epstein’s main article in a post last month).  It seems more and more apparent that potential dangers of Tamiflu (oseltamivir) in children were ignored.  Epstein reports that

the risks of delirium and unconscious episodes were indeed significantly elevated in children who took Tamiflu, especially if they took the drug during the first day or so after influenza symptoms appeared….  If these results are confirmed, they are especially worrying, since the World Health Organization and the US Centers for Disease Control both recommend that Tamiflu be taken as soon as possible after symptoms appear.

I was not the only one unaware of this important study; neither, apparently, were the World Health Organization, the US Food and Drug Administration, and the US Centers for Disease Control. When I contacted these agencies in January and February 2011, their spokespeople assured me that there was no evidence that Tamiflu causes neuropsychiatric side effects in children. [emphasis added]

In the rush to move taxpayer monies into the hands of wealthy private corporations, the WHO (with CDC and other agencies) proclaimed a flu emergency in 2009.  And ignored evidence on possible dangers of the products they were touting as part of the “preparedness” response.

I’ve covered the profit-motivated thinking behind vaccine recommendations generally and specifically with regard to flu immunization.  Epstein’s main interest is in the role of pharmaceutical companies in promoting oseltamivir (Tamiflu®) and other neuraminidase inhibitors as public health responses to flu fears.  Her story features the brilliant work of Tom Jefferson and colleagues, and the shady behavior of the global biotech firm Roche in trying to block Jefferson et al.’s efforts to investigate the safety of neuraminidase-blocking agents.

Jefferson was lead author on the Cochrane Collaborations’ main paper on neuraminidase inhibitors for flu prevention and treatment.   But when reports of adverse effects of these drugs emerged and he and colleagues tried to re-assess the underlying reports on which the effectiveness of oseltamivir and similar drugs was based, Jefferson was stymied.  His colleague, Peter Doshi, related the story in BMJ.   The journal’s editor-in-chief, Fiona Godlee, along with Cochrane director Mike Clarke, wrote in an accompanying editorial:

The review and a linked investigation undertaken jointly by the BMJ and Channel 4 News cast doubt not only on the effectiveness and safety of oseltamivir (Tamiflu) but on the system by which drugs are evaluated, regulated, and promoted.

The take-home message is that while there is evidence that Tamiflu can be effective in treating flu, the evidence is shakier than it seems, and troubling reports point to potentially serious adverse effects.

How does a questionable medication get to be the basis (or part of the basis) for public health policy?  The answer is that the policy makers and the money makers work hand in hand.

Maryann Napoli at Center for Medical Consumers tried to point out the troubling links between WHO and big pharma last year, and Steven Novella at Science-Based Medicine brought it up around the same time.

But most of the coverage focuses on the involvement of individual scientists and/or physicians who are receiving payments or other forms of remuneration directly from drug companies.  It’s not hard to police such straightforward conflicts — and so it was easy for Margaret Chan, WHO Director-General, to say last year that “at no time, not for one second, did commercial interests enter my decision-making.”

Epstein’s great contribution is in showing that obvious conflicts of interest aren’t the main way that for-profit companies influence policy.  It’s done through stonewalling, as Jefferson encountered when he tried to examine Roche’s data.  It’s done through widely accepted collusions.

For instance, the CDC Foundation — “Helping CDC Do More, Faster” is its motto — is a nonprofit organization, created by the U.S. Congress, whose job is to

connect the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) with private-sector organizations and individuals to build public health programs that make our world healthier and safer.

Of course, calling them “private-sector organizations” suggests that these are not-for-profits — and some, like the District of Columbia Department of Health, the Medical College of South Carolina, and UNICEF, really are.  But most of the private-sector collaborators who are linked with CDC’s policy makers by the CDC Foundation are big corporations.  They include all the giants of Pharma world:  Merck, Pfizer, Roche, Sanofi-Pasteur, etc.  (They also include some who are just giants:  Google, Dell, YUM! Brands, and IBM, to name a few.)

So when CDC’s updated flu response plan now recommends antiviral (i.e., neuraminidase-inhibitor) treatment “as soon as possible,” it’s worth asking whether this is because it has any public health value (answer:  no) or just because CDC is cozy with companies that make money when people get sick.

Still, it’s hard to avoid wondering:  is Wakefield right when he alleges that he’s being persecuted by the vaccine industry?

Last week, I discussed the BMJ article by Brian Deer asserting that Wakefield’s research was fraudulent, and the accompanying editorial supporting immunization.  At that point, I thought that the BMJ pieces were, together,  a one-off.

I was wrong.  In fact, it looks this week like the vaccine industry has armed some of its main warriors and sent them out to do battle.

The Battle Against Anti-Vaccinationism

In the Jan. 13th issue of the New England Journal of Medicine, two powerful chiefs, Gregory Poland and Robert M. Jacobson, claim that there’s an “age-old struggle” to make vaccines available.  Their aim is to vilify the “antivaccinationists” who “have done significant harm to the public health.” [Note the use of the holy article in this phrase, to signal just how sacred these warrior-priests hold "the" public health to be.]

The Poland-Jacobson piece is pure propaganda.  Theirs is a tale of heroic struggle on the part of ever-embattled Believers against the satanic forces of Antivaccationism — who have been trying “since the 18th century” to shake people’s faith in the vaccine gospel.  And nowadays the nasty antivaccinationists are using scarily modern forms of communications, such as TV and the Internet, in order “to sway public opinion and distract attention from scientific evidence.”

Wow:  TV and the web.  Sounds satanic alright.

I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that a couple of crusaders make their own work sound salvationist.  What troubles me is that they make it sound like they’re disinterested do-good-ers.

In fact, Poland and Jacobson are in bed with Big Pharma.  Poland runs the Mayo Clinic’s Vaccine Research Group.  Although as far as I can tell, Poland and Jacobson are not currently in the direct pay of the vaccine manufacturers, they and the VRG have benefited handsomely from vaccine makers’ largesse.

For instance, Poland’s and Jacobson’s work on human papillomavirus vaccine, as they acknowledge in a 2005 Mayo Clinic Proceedings paper, was funded by Merck, and their co-workers were Merck employees.  Later, in conjunction with a continuing medical education module on meningococcal vaccine in 2009, Poland disclosed the following ties:

Sources of Funding for Research: Merck & Co, Inc, Novavax, Inc, Protein Sciences Corp; Consulting Agreements: Avianax, LLC, CSL Biotherapies, CSL Limited, Emergent Biosolutions Inc, GlaxoSmithKline, Merck & Co, Inc, Novartis Vaccines, Novavax, Inc, PowderMed Ltd

And on his disclosure form for this week’s NEJM article Poland acknowledges funding from Pfizer and Novartis for vaccine studies.

So when Poland and Jacobson write that our society “must continue to fund and publish high-quality studies to investigate concerns about vaccine safety,” they’re really talking about preserving their livelihood.  It’s very much in their interest to ensure a steady flow of such funding.

And when they say that “society must recognize that science is not a democracy in which the side with the most votes or the loudest voices gets to decide what is right,” they’re being completely disingenuous.  Because Poland and Jacobson know quite well why science is not a democracy:  in the type of research they do, it’s the big money that decides what is right.

A High Priest of Vaccine “Science”

Then there’s Paul Offit making the rounds.  Offit has been the subject of lots of attention by Age of Autism, most recently as a “denialist.” Offit probably profited somewhat from the licensing of Rota Teq vaccine, which he helped invent — although AofA’s allegation that he is therefore beholden to Merck seems unsubstantiated.

What’s obvious about Offit is that he is contemptuous of people who don’t agree with his version of truth.

Offit appeared on Lenny Lopate’s radio show in New York yesterday, and presumably will be appearing elsewhere.  His aim is to explain the “grave public health problem of vaccine avoidance.”  The “anti-vaccine movement threatens us all,” he says.  In fact, that’s the subtitle of his new book, Deadly Choices.

Where Poland and Jacobson are militant and sanctimonious, Offit sounds a note at once sentimental and officious.  It’s “tragic” that there have been measles outbreaks because of parents refusing to have their kids vaccinated, he says.  And the problem is that people just don’t understand science.  In fact, Dan Olmsted at AofA gets it quite right when he critique’s Offit’s blinkered version of science:

Anyone concerned about [possible harms of vaccination] fits Offit’s definition of anti-vaccine, because vaccines don’t cause any of them, because Paul Offit says so, a solipsism that is really quite breathtaking: “[B]ecause anti-vaccine activists today define safe as free from side effects such as autism, learning disabilities, attention deficit disorder, multiple sclerosis, diabetes, strokes, heart attacks, and blood clots — conditions that aren’t caused by vaccines — safer vaccines, using their definition, can never be made.”

I had the same reaction to Offit’s self-important — and, to my mind, unscientific — claims.  Offit shows no interest in the open inquiry that marks science.  People who don’t agree with him are uneducated, poorly informed, maybe just stupid.  And, of course, dangerous.

“Tragic” Consequences of Unbelief

On the Lopate show, Offit resorted to the now-common formula of the “tragic” consequences of parents’ belief in Andrew Wakefield.

What’s the tragedy, exactly?   It’s true that there have been outbreaks of measles in the British Isles that have been traced to parents’ refusal to have their children immunized.  An excellent review in BMJ in 2006 provided some of the data for the U.K. — including that one child died in a 2006 measles outbreak that was related to poor immunization coverage.  A few children died in Ireland in 2000.  A CDC account of a measles outbreak in California in 2008 reports that it hospitalized a few children, although none died.

It would be great if nobody ever died from an infection that could be prevented in any way.  It’s surely tragic to the parents of a child who dies from a preventable infection.   The sympathies of each of us should go out to such parents, as to those whose kids are killed by bad drivers, sports injuries, or infections for which there’s no vaccine.

But in what sense is one child’s death more of a collective “tragedy” for all of us than the other deaths that go unremarked every day?   Why is it tragic when one child dies of a vaccine-preventable infection and not when a lot of them die of poorly regulated handguns or as troops fighting wars that never endanger our leaders, only our young?

The Ramp-up of Aggression by the Vaccine Crusaders

Why are the vaccine warriors rampant now?  Perhaps the vaccine makers are terrified that the low uptake of H1N1 flu vaccine despite all the hype in 2009, along with low MMR compliance in some places (the U.K. especially), means that their profits are going to slide.  Maybe their friends, like Offit and Poland, are worried that reduced uptake of vaccines will translate into diminished research funding or fewer conferences in delicious places.

Or maybe the vaccine industry finds Wakefield so obstreperous that they can’t rest until he is destroyed. Wakefield’s no choir boy, but he might not have realized just how much control the pharmaceutical industry can exert in the U.K.

In a review essay in last week’s New York Review of Books, Simon Head points out that Big Pharma is “the only major segment of the British economy that is both world-class and an intensive user of university research,” and implies that it exerts control over both the substance and volume of U.K. research productivity, especially in medicine.  Head sees reason to believe that Pharma will “tighten its hold over scientific research in the UK” in the future.

It’s Not a War

There need be no either-or about vaccines.  If our society can live with guns and automobiles (together accounting for roughly 50,000 American deaths a year), if we tolerate alcohol, processed foods, acetaminophen, high-rise construction, and all the other things that occasionally cause harm but mostly contribute to the way of life we prefer — then we can stop calling it “tragic” when a few parents don’t have their kids immunized.

Because to call one measles death “tragic” is to further the vaccine warriors’ campaign — the campaign that pretends to be on behalf of science or healthy kids, but is really fought to protect the fortunes of vaccine makers.

The campaign protects the power of shiftless public officials who claim to be protecting the public from harm when they serve up millions of taxpayer dollars to vaccine manufacturers for barely useful vaccines (H1N1 2009), or for vaccines that are undoubtedly helpful but might be harmful in some cases and haven’t been thoroughly examined (HPV vaccine).  And who, to this day, won’t even consider the very good question that Andrew Wakefield posed in the 1990s:  is it a good idea to give kids three immunizations in a single preparation?

I had my child immunized when she was the right age for that.    But I’m not certain that absolutely everyone has to do the same.  Neither are the courts, which is why they allow exemptions from immunization for personal belief.

I don’t think measles is a menace to civilization.  I know that only a very tiny percentage of children who contract measles get dangerously sick from it, that flu vaccine doesn’t work for everyone (and isn’t an effective public health measure to stop flu outbreaks even though it can protect individuals from illness), and that varicella vaccine can make the problem of shingles worse even though it reduces the problem of chicken pox.  And so forth.

I mean that immunization is complex and fraught.  Not everyone can be expected to agree with every vaccine recommendation.   Even while some people are opposed to vaccination and refuse to immunize their kids, life will go on, and society will continue to thrive, and Paul Offit can continue to say arrogant things about “science.”

So, could someone please call off the crusade?

Today, it would be closer to the truth to say that tragedy only counts if it can be diagnosed.   And diagnosis only counts if it’s biological.

That’s been the story of  the conversation about autistic children, and the implication of so-called mitochondrial dysfunction.

Deficiencies of energy metabolism have been rumored in association with the autistic picture for a while now, and emerged in the Hannah Poling case a few years ago.  They were given a boost by a small European case series (abstract here, PDF here) published in 2005 in Developmental Medicine and Child Neurology.  (The authors of the article gave their paper the deceptive title “Mitochondrial dysfunction in autism spectrum disorders:  a population-based study,” even though the research involved no population at all, just 11 kids.  But business is business.)

Another boost came this week with the publication in JAMA of a methodologically careful study of  energy metabolism in 10 California children diagnosed with autism, contrasted with 10 children drawn from a well-matched sample of comparable control children.   The new study found reduced oxidative activity in mitochondria — the tiny energy-chain entities inside cells that produce chemically based, biologically derived power for the cells’ functions.  The reduced oxidative activity was present in most of the 10 autistic children, and they showed a much-altered mean energy metabolism on several different measures.

Thus, altered energy metabolism at the cellular level has been documented in a small handful of children diagnosed with autism.  It seems not to be present in all children with autistic diagnoses.  It might be a result of autistic behavior rather than a cause, or a bystander phenomenon of some kind.  Or it might be a feature that hastens diagnosis (in the ones who have the unusual metabolic pattern, it has not been shown to precede the diagnosis) without actually playing any predisposing role.  Indeed, the authors of the JAMA paper remark that the

mitochondrial dysfunction observed in this preliminary study performed with children presenting with full syndrome autism may or may not indicate an etiological role.

But this minor and still untested finding on mitochondrial energetics, still not of any self-evident significance regarding the cause of autistic behavior, has created a major stir.  Medscape weighed in.  Business Week ran a story written by HealthDay reporter Jenifer Goodwin.  And it’s no surprise that the story has been front page news at the autism blogs, like Age of Autism and Autism Speaks.

So it seems safe to say that we’re looking at the third coming of a fact.

That some children engage with the world differently than do most kids was the first discovery, an old discovery (some think the 18th-century Wild Child of Aveyron was autistic).  It was codified in 1910 when  the psychiatrist Eugen Bleuler labeled one of the varieties of childhood schizophrenia “autistic.”  Identification.

Next came diagnosis – beginning with Hans Asperger in 1938 and Leo Kanner in 1943.   In the grip of modernity, slow acquisition of words, quirky communication, fixity of focus, failure to multitask, preoccupation with parts rather than wholes, and so on, are no longer signs of diabolical possession, thankfully.  But neither do they signal a broadened sense of what human experience is like.  They’re just signs of disease.

Diagnosis has allowed all sorts of theories to summon support:  about parenting, about the toxic environment, about thimerosal in vaccines, or about immunization itself.  Autism is the diagnosis that lets people express their misgivings about modernity.

Now we’re seeing the beginning of step 3:  biologization.

If autism is to stand up to 21st-century modernity, it has to have a biological basis.  Otherwise it will go the way of the obsolete disorders of old, like neurasthenia, hysteria, or frigidity.  The research on mitochondrial dysfunction in California won’t be the last or the only big-dollar expenditure aimed at finding a biochemical basis for the diagnosis of autism.   And there’ll be DNA studies, too.

The sad thing is that the only good way for troubled parents to get services for their children is to have the kids diagnosed, and to help to get them labeled as biologically off-kilter (Autism Speaks was one of the sponsors of the study just published in JAMA).  Get them labeled as dysfunctional, to use the term of art.

There’s no percentage in betting on need, or social disadvantage, or just plain poverty as an impetus to free up funds and services.  The need doesn’t count if there’s no dysfunction.   Your event doesn’t count as world-historic without a biological basis now.  First as tragedy, then as diagnosis, then as biology…

Autism, ADHD, obesity, addiction — each time our society is confronted with a problem it can’t solve or an irritation it can’t salve, we feed the problem into the medical establishment’s diagnosis mill.  Then we turn it over to the biologists to put some science on it.

Once the problem has a name and a diagnosis and a biological mishap to it — then we can see it.

But to understand why the story is wrong means recognizing a weakness of science as it’s often practiced today.

Wade’s claim is based on two papers published this month.  A relatively well done study by Haensch et al. in PLoS Pathogens earlier in October tested human remains from well-identified plague pits — burial sites for medieval plague victims — in different parts of Europe.  Researchers amplified DNA sequences of the plague bacterium, Yersinia pestis, at specific genetic loci, and tested to see whether the DNA matched known sequences of contemporary Y. pestis genes.

The findings published in PLoS suggest that the Black Death and perhaps subsequent waves of plague in Europe were indeed caused by Y. pestis — which would tend to debunk the theory proposed by some British researchers that the Black Death was some kind of viral hemorrhagic fever outbreak.  And they suggest that there were at least two widely different Y. pestis strains involved in different parts of Europe.  Here’s a bit of the abstract:

[O]n the basis of 17 single nucleotide polymorphisms plus the absence of a deletion in glpD gene, our aDNA results identified two previously unknown but related clades of Y. pestis associated with distinct medieval mass graves. These findings suggest that plague was imported to Europe on two or more occasions, each following a distinct route.

The main weakness here is that DNA could not be amplified from all of the plague pits the researchers studied, but after using alternative means to test the DNA debris against contemporary gene sequences the investigators concluded that the absence of genetic material reminiscent of one strain of Y. pestis was evidence that that strain was not in play in that part of Europe at the time.  Probably right, but stretching the available evidence.

It’s a common mistake, alas.  To paraphrase Karl Popper:  just because you see DNA from white swans and don’t see any DNA from black swans, doesn’t mean that black swans don’t exist.

Still, the PLoS paper is persuasive that more than one strain of the plague bacterium was circulating, and probably causing deaths, in the plague period in Europe.  Of course, it says nothing about China.

So where does the NYT reporter get his headline-grabbing story?  A paper to be published in Nature Genetics online (still embargoed at the time I’m writing, but a summary appears here) states that the sequences of plague DNA amplified from plague pit remains, as well as contemporary isolates, can be placed on a molecular clock because of the occurrence of unique mutations.  Winding the clock backward, the researchers conclude that the Ur plague organism, ancestor of all Y. pestis, came from the far east.

The molecular biology may be unimpeachable, but the inferences about history aren’t supportable by molecular evidence.  That might explain why they’re almost certainly wrong.

The problem (scientists, I hope you’re listening!) is that you may know very well what you know, but you can never know what you haven’t seen.  The hereditary tree has its roots in China.  Here is one proposed by some of the same authors in a 2004 PNAS paper:

In this set-up, isolates of Y. pestis from China seem closest to the primordial strains.

But of course, the molecular clock doesn’t take account of strains that are no longer extant.  And ones that haven’t been unearthed.  The contemporary researchers don’t see them (or don’t know how to look), so they don’t exist.

It’s a bad mistake, inferentially.  And historically.  It’s where the NYT writer goes wrong.  Almost certainly, plague did not begin in China.  It began as an enzootic infection of small mammals in the uplands of central Asia.  This is the story convincingly relayed by William H. McNeill in Plagues and Peoples a generation ago, and none of the many accounts I’ve read since then has debunked it.

Plague would have had to begin in an ecosystem in which it could circulate at moderate transmission rates with little pathogenicity among small mammals (the natural host of the bacterium).  Exactly where it started remains open to question, but it was probably in the area that is now Turkestan/Uzbekistan.  With the development of trade between that region and China, intermixing of local (central-Asian) animals with caravan-accompanying rats would have allowed Y. pestis to adapt to the latter.

Quite possibly China was the source of the first human outbreaks of plague — because the river valleys of China were settled and agricultural (therefore offering feeding opportunities for rats as well as multiple opportunities for rat-human interaction) long before Europe was.  That fact probably accounts for the biologists’ (mistaken) belief that their early samples show that Y. pestis started out in China.

But plague began as — and remains — a disease of animals.  To acknowledge that human outbreaks in China preceded the human outbreaks in Europe (the Justinian plague that began in the mid-sixth century, the Black Death that began in the 1340s, and subsequent visitations) is not the same as saying that plague originated in China.

Which it didn’t.  Plague is an animal disease from Central Asia.  Plague’s long history is the usual one:  ecosystem change, trade, animal-human interactions, alterations in climate and economic conditions, and occasional opportunities for mass human illness.   (One world, one health.)

Above all, remember that science is only capable of drawing conclusions about what scientists can observe.  Don’t be taken in by hair-raising stories.  Even in the NY Times.

Early this month, a couple of friends, thinking they might splurge on a downtown hotel to celebrate their tenth wedding anniversary, were soliciting bed bug reports before choosing where to stay.  And at a family gathering last week, one young man — recently graduated from an elite college, an intellectual usually given to ironic mockery of the nuttier trends evident in the generation that still uses e-mail — told me that while he’s afraid of bees and doesn’t like mosquitoes, bed bugs really terrify him.

Bed bugs are unpleasant.  Their bites can itch.  Their feces and molted shells can set off asthma attacks or other allergies.  It’s sensible to avoid them, and get rid of them if they’re in your home.  I wrote a few months ago that it makes perfect sense that health authorities do something to limit bed bug woes.

But if you ask me what insects worry me most as a public health professional, I certainly wouldn’t say “bed bugs.”  Ticks, especially as Lyme disease spreads geographically.  Phlebotomine (sand) flies, as leishmaniasis becomes a more serious problem.  Mosquitoes, always.   Bed bugs are far from the top of my list.

The Aedes mosquitoes that carry yellow fever, dengue, rift valley fever, and chikungunya viruses, are most troubling right now.  Ae. aegyptii most of all, of course, but increasingly Ae. albopictus.

An extensive outbreak of rift valley fever in South Africa produced dozens of human cases earlier this year, and seems to be continuing among livestock.  An epidemiologist friend in Europe told me a few weeks back that he and other European disease control specialists, already concerned about dengue and yellow fever, are looking at RVF exposures in the southern part of the continent — a worrisome finding for a virus that has primarily been African.   The European Center for Disease Control is, appropriately, concerned about the establishment of Ae. albopictus in Europe.

Ditto chikungunya, which as produced 33 cases in Delhi, India, this year, possibly including an illness in the city’s mayor.

Dengue  demands control most pressingly of all.  Although the CDC is busily advising Americans not to worry (“Nearly all dengue cases reported in the 48 continental states were acquired elsewhere by travelers or immigrants,” its info page reads), there is active spread through much of the Caribbean basin — see the map at Dengue Watch, for instance.  The Mexican ministry of health reports dengue transmission in areas bordering the U.S.  There has already been an outbreak in Texas (in 2005).  And other highly industrialized countries with strong surveillance and control systems are experiencing dengue cases, including the first report of domestic transmission within France this summer.

(Hats off to Crof at H5N1, who has been following both chikungunya and dengue assiduously.)

The expansion of the range of Ae. albopictus, a secondary but by no means ignorable vector for dengue, makes the geographic extension of these pathogens worthy of concern.

With climate changing, trade routes always in flux, area spraying of insecticide disfavored because of environmental considerations, and of course mosquitoes evolving to take advantage of new niches, it seems unlikely that North Americans can go on counting on the mere improbability that virus and vector will coincide.

Mosquito control programs are in place, and U.S. authorities expend considerable effort at controlling Ae. aegyptii in Puerto Rico.  But the West Nile fever outbreak of 1999 and its subsequent extension in North America reveals the porousness of mosquito control.

Mosquitoes are much more worrisome than bed bugs.

What I value about H5N1 is the tracking of the mosquito-borne viral diseases, like dengue and chikungunya as well as H1N1, that reveal the effects of the elision of ecosystem boundaries; the close attention to outbreaks that stem from changes in human-animal interactions — like the recent outbreak of plague in Tibet and, of course, H5N1; and the watch it keeps on the vaccine trade, as in yesterday’s post picking up a report in The Nation on the purchase of flu vaccine from France and one last week on a US tech company’s trials of a new flu vaccine (which won’t help the public but is, apparently, already helping the company to get richer).

The kind of close attention to the details of complex interactions amongst humans, animals, and both the natural environment and the economic one that H5N1 shows is indispensable.   It should spur more interest in wresting public health away from the simple-minded mass-vaccination schemes of medical officials in the U.S. and other wealthy countries — the point of which is usually to transfer public monies into the hands of pharmaceutical companies.  And move us to toward a more complex and inclusive view of the nature of health.

While it would be foolish to dismiss such warnings as this latest one on bird flu, it is important we keep a sense of proportion and not let them distract us from countering the unfashionable but widespread potential killers such as tuberculosis, HIV/Aids, diabetes, cancer, dengue and malaria. These are the diseases already causing widespread illness and economic harm….

Rather than competing for cash, the threat from newer diseases should serve as a catalyst to combat existing epidemics.

Competing for cash is key.

Funding for TB languishes, dengue incidence expands, more people with the AIDS virus are getting treated but new infections continue to occur, water scarcity (and displacement because of wars and natural disasters) makes diarrheal illness a persistent problem, and malaria transmission continues to threaten billions of people who live in tropical and subtropical regions — but flu preparedness dominates the public health scene.   Why?

Here’s the infernal logic of WHO and the public health officers of wealthy countries (U.S., U.K., etc.):  (a) At the start of the H1N1 outbreak in 2009, a sensible worst-cast forecast was about a million deaths worldwide; the more likely scenario was well under 500,000 deaths.  (b) TB + malaria + diarrhea + AIDS together kill 6 or 7 million people a year.   (c) Immunization against flu is notoriously variable in its effectiveness and mass immunization is almost never effective (except if instituted in an isolated population well before the flu virus makes inroads into the population).

Sounds like it would be worth it to pump lots of resources into reducing the incidence of malaria, TB, AIDS, and diarrhea.  But that’s hard.  It takes political will.  Whereas immunizing against flu is easy: it just takes money.  And national health officials were eager (it turned out) to transfer billions of dollars, pounds, and euros into the hands of vaccine manufacturers in order to be able to immunize their populations against H1N1 flu.

To an official whose job is to watch out for the needs of the economic machine, immunization pays.

One flu vaccine manufacturer estimates that in the U.S., employers lose $2.1 billion each year in productivity because of flu-related absences from work.  Let’s be skeptical about this estimate, coming as it does from one of the beneficiaries of federal largesse in response to flu fears.  But the point is clear enough:  it was a great boon to the private sector to have the federal government spend $1.6 billion of taxpayer money on flu vaccine in 2009 even though the outbreak was mild and vaccine did virtually nothing to stop it.  Because with the feds footing the bill, the burden on corporations was slight, whereas the private sector would have lost a lot of money if many Americans had fallen ill with flu.

It’s not just the vaccine manufacturers and pharmaceutical companies who stand to capitalize on the absurd calculus of protecting American businesses instead of poor people’s lives:  scientists do, too.

Robert Webster is an eminent virologist who has become dean of those American scientists who purport to be able to foresee a future flu catastrophe.  Perhaps he’s right, but of course nobody knows.  So when Webster says

We may think we can relax and influenza is no longer a problem. I want to assure you that that is not the case,

as he just did in a meeting in Hong Kong, it’s a good sign that the preparedness crusaders are worried about their funding.  They should be.

The preparedness crusaders have been unmasked as shameless shills for the private sector,  even if the vaccine and antiviral manufacturers aren’t paying them directly.  And the ones who are scientists have been revealed as self-important promoters of their own research — so fiercely protective of their own turf that they might use their prestige and the imprimatur of science to hoodwink officials into ignoring the more serious, and more certain, problems of the developing world.

Let’s hope that more opinion makers take the stand that the editors in Bangkok just did.

What has changed?  How does the story of wrangling over the sodium content of American food merit space in the main news sections of the most influential media — even the front pages of the NY Times or LA Times?

1.  One answer is that health occupies much of the American conversation today.  A visitor from another planet watching our TV news shows or reading the main newspapers would have to be forgiven for thinking that Americans are dying from a multitude of irrepressible disease threats.  We can’t seem to stop talking about how to improve our health.

(In fact, as Michael Haines notes at the Economic History Association website, U.S. life expectancy almost doubled between 1850 and 1960, from 39.5 years to 70.7 years; since then it has increased slowly, and is now estimated to be about 78.2 years.  In other words, health wasn’t a matter of news much during the time when longevity was improving dramatically, in the late 19th century and first half of the 20th.  By the time health became a cultural preoccupation, the majority of Americans were living well past middle age.)

2.  Another answer, perhaps more important is that when we talk about health today we mean personal responsibility.

When I began studying epidemiology, in the late 1970s, public health essentially meant disease control.  Yes, lip service was paid to so-called health promotion — much was made of the World Health Organization’s definition of health, promulgated in 1946:

Health is a state of complete physical, mental and social well-being and not merely the absence of disease or infirmity.

But no metric for complete well-being was widely recognized.  And the usual epidemiologic measures of incidence and mortality rates, life expectancy, and so forth seemed to work just fine as ways of understanding why some groups of people lived longer and more capable lives, while others lived miserably and died young.

Sometime since then, the health sector, including public health, has turned to individual responsibility as the key to well-being.

If each of us is responsible for his or her own health, then it’s our own fault if we get sick.  Naturally, advice abounds:  buckle up, use a condom, eat less fat, know your cholesterol level, wash your hands, use mosquito repellent containing DEET, wear sunblock, eat fresh fruit and vegetables every day, lower your stress.

The advice adds up to this:  know your limits.  Federally sponsored research tells us that self-control is ontagious.

The personal-responsibility view of health says, “control your appetites.”

3.  But let’s think about another change:  more people are concerned about the American diet.  As noted last week, the food movement has given us ways to think about eating that go beyond the tiresome story of obesity and hypertension — Beyond Fat and Salt, you could say.

Of course, the main media outlets still tell the food story in Fat-and-Salt language, as the news articles in the NY Times, LA Times, and others show.  It’s the food industry vs. the foodies, or the food industry vs. public health, or the food industry and public health vs. appetites — anyway, somebody against somebody in the name of health.

The media aren’t quite past obesity and hypertension yet.  But as the culture moves beyond obsessive self-inspection in the name of health, no doubt media will, too.

In an article posted on the NY Times website Sunday (and published in the print edition Monday), McNeil reports on the inability of treatment programs in parts of Africa (this piece focuses on Uganda) to keep up with the need for AIDS medication as funding falls.   A very compelling video report accompanies the online version of the article.

An accompanying article explains the decline in funding, starting with the fall in the U.S. administration’s request on behalf of PEPFAR, as a Times graphic shows.

The number of new infections with the AIDS virus is estimated to be about 2 million per year now.  Some observers think annual incidence will rise as the population expands; even if not, the annual number of new AIDS virus infections is unlikely to fall in the near future, given present circumstances.

At the same time, the Times reports, anticipated PEPFAR funding is essentially flat to 2013, at $5 to $5.5 billion per year.  Financing for AIDS medications through the Global Fund to Fight AIDS, Tuberculosis and Malaria is in dire straits.

In terms of people, not dollars:  of the 33 million or so individuals who are infected with the AIDS virus worldwide, only about 4 million get regular antiretroviral therapy.

A few years ago, I wondered why,  after a quarter-century of AIDS and with the availability of effective treatment (at least in wealthy countries), Americans still didn’t see AIDS as an ordinary illness.

Now I have an answer:  we do see AIDS as ordinary… for poor countries.  To us, AIDS is no longer an epidemic problem worth our getting worked up over, or so it would seem judging by PEPFAR.  AIDS is like malaria, tuberculosis, or schistosomiasis.  It’s like diarrhea.  The Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation will put money into research or specific programs but we as a country will not need to care anymore.  We shift the funding away from the people in Africa, who are going to die young anyway, and put it into the hands of institutions (often, pharmaceutical companies) that can give us the promise of immunity from disaster.

The U.S. put less funding last year into PEPFAR than it did into preparations for H1N1 flu ($7.6 billion) or the school lunch program ($14.9 billion, according to the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation’s Center to Prevent Childhood Obesity), battleground in the war against childhood obesity.

Flu and obesity are epidemic.  They threaten American assumptions about ourselves.  “Epidemic” means:  crisis in our society.  Our epidemiologists say that malaria, diarrhea, and the other problems that collectively kill 20,000 or 25,000 people (mostly children) every day are endemic. 

“Endemic” means:  not our problem.

AIDS is endemic too, now.  It has gone to ground, gone the route of other once-dreaded infections that caused calamity in America and triggered heated debate (yellow fever, cholera, typhoid, TB) but have disappeared from our scene.  It’s their problem, now.

The policy seems to be based primarily on a secondary analysis of longitudinal data from a multi-center study of HIV-infected people in the U.S. and Canada, the NA-ACCORD study.  The results were reported in the New England Journal of Medicine a year ago.  In that analysis, people with HIV whose CD4 counts were between 351 and 500 who began ART immediately were compared to those who deferred ART until CD4 count was 350 or less.  The deferred-ART group was found to have a 69% higher risk of mortality (from any cause) than were those who began ART before CD4 count fell to <350.  Similarly, among HIV-infected people with CD4 counts above 500, those who began ART after CD4 count was <500 had a 94% higher risk of mortality compared to those who began ART immediately.

But is this a good basis for across-the-board policy for a city the size of San Francisco?  Some physicians worry about the development of drug resistance among viral strains.  Others are concerned about toxicity, always a problem worth considering.  Paul E. Sax tracks the history of the idea and includes a few quotes in his blog post yesterday.

Some commentators wonder whether the new policy is meant to be a boon to pharmaceutical companies.  That’s not a crazy concern:  the Bay Area Reporter noted a couple of weeks ago that San Francisco plans to shift to a “status awareness” policy, increasing HIV testing by 70,000 people per year in an effort to halve the rate of new infections by 2015.  If successful, the increase in testing combined with an increase in recommendations for early ART would expand the market for antiviral medications substantially.

A few aspects of the April 2009 report on NA-ACCORD raise worries about whether it should be the basis for broad-based policy.  First, people who deferred therapy were observed very briefly (median 1.3 years, many of them for only 6 months), so any advantage to early therapy appears to refer to the period immediately post onset of therapy.  That’s important because toxicity and/or resistance might not be evident right away.  Second, looking only at people with an initial CD4 count above 500 and holding constant self-reported history of drug injection, there was only weak evidence for a slight effect of early treatment on mortality (the relative mortality hazard was 1.28 (95% confidence interval 0.85 to 1.83)).  Drug users had a higher mortality risk, and this finding—on which the authors of the New England Journal paper do not comment—suggests that early ART did not reduce the hazard of death for drug users.

Also, the authors of the NEJM paper could not possibly account for some of the hard-to-regiment aspects of HIV infection.  These would include variations in cause of death, treatment adherence, and monitoring of treatment effects — all of which would either not be evident in a cohort study or could not be controlled in a secondary analysis.

Finally, the authors are slightly cagey about the effect of drug-injection history in the above-500-CD4-count group, reporting a twofold increase in death hazard for those who delay ART after excluding people with a drug-injection history – but never reporting information on the effect of ART delay among drug injectors alone.

Most important, observations on people who transitioned to the next-lower CD4 compartment (i.e., from above 500 to <500, or from 351-500 to <350) were censored after 6 months if the individual had not yet initiated ART.  Therefore, the real comparison the NEJM authors are making is between immediate-onset ART while CD4 count remains in the same CD4 compartment vs. immediate-onset ART after CD4 count has dropped to the next lower compartment.  It’s not really a study of immediate versus delayed onset ART.

There’s plenty of reason (including the 2009 NEJM paper) to think that suppressing HIV early rather than late should be helpful, and some reason to think that the reduction in viral load produced by ART will lower infectivity in a way that makes transmission to uninfected sexual or drug-sharing partners less likely.  That in turn could be of public-health value.

Of course, nobody is being forced to start ART before he or she wants to, no matter the policy recommendation. Still, it’s worth wondering whether the expansion of testing and extension of early treatment will substantially improve the public’s health in a way that makes the cost, and self-evident advantages to pharmaceutical (and test-kit) manufacturers, worthwhile.

At H5N1 yesterday, Crof picked up the U.K. government’s announcement that it would sponsor an independent review of decision making in response to H1N1 swine flu last year.  The U.K.’s Minister of Health, Liam Donaldson, told WebMD that it is

vital that we learn from what we have seen in this pandemic, for the sake of those who find themselves tackling … the next. It is likely to be worse.

Anybody who claims to know what the next pandemic will be like is asserting a special ability to read mysterious auguries that nobody else can see.  So it’s all the more shocking that Donaldson goes on to obfuscate his own failure to ask critical questions by claiming to have been using expert predictions:

Would it have been acceptable to hide and conceal statistical projections provided by statistical modellers of international standing, even though releasing them publicly caused alarm in some quarters?

As if the flak he had taken last July were for a perfectly rational assertion, not an apocalyptic forecast — when he said that there could be 65,000 deaths from flu in Britain.  Donaldson later dropped the forecast to 19,000 deaths.  (The actual number was less than 400 during 2009, 457 to date.)

And as if Donaldson had not made the same off-base prediction back in October 2005, when he said that there would be an avian flu outbreak in the U.K. with 50,000 deaths.  That was Donaldson’s excuse to use public money to purchase two and a half million doses of antivirals for stockpiling.

As if, that is, the problem were that people are just benightedly opposed to science — not genuinely concerned about malfeasance.

To its credit, the Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe continues its investigation of decision making around the H1N1 outbreak response, holding a second public hearing on Monday.  Briefs of experts’ statements at the first hearing, back in January, are available here, and links to full statements and video are at the PACE site here.

Some of my friends and colleagues in public health wonder if this kind of questioning comes from misunderstanding the seriousness of flu and others are fearful that it will diminish the authority of public-health physicians.  A few, but too few, back the redoubtable Tom Jefferson, who has been questioning the reliance on flu vaccine for a long time.  Shouldn’t scientists — especially scientists — question authority?

Officials’ legitimacy ought to be diminished if they’re not serving the public.  Particularly when their decisions mean that private companies benefit from taxpayers’ monies.  Clearly, the transfer of funds is what happened with the H1N1 flu response.  Was it based on sound decision making?  More transparency would be a good thing.

Now that the Council of Europe and the U.K., are investigating official responses to H1N1 flu, could we please hear from the United States?

As New Scientist points out, the GMC’s finding removes any impediment to charging Wakefield and two of his colleagues with misconduct.  GMC may rule on that score in a few months, according to the BBC.

By and large, the talk about the verdict hasn’t been about the substance of the contentious vaccine-autism link.  At Autism Science Foundation, Alison Singer (the group’s president) writes that

Anti vaccine autism advocates continue to see Wakefield as a hero who remains willing to take on the establishment and fight for their children.  In the meantime, Wakefield’s actions have had a lasting negative effect on children’s health in that some people are still afraid of immunizations. In some cases, the younger siblings of children with autism are being denied life saving vaccines. This population of baby siblings, already at higher risk for developing autism, is now also being placed at risk for life threatening, vaccine preventable disease, despite mountains of scientific evidence indicating no link between vaccines and autism. This is the Wakefield legacy.

On the other side, Generation Rescue writes in support of Wakefield at Age of Autism.  GR isn’t as cogent as Singer, but brings up the point that tends to complicate this and most discussions of autism:    “Do you think pharmaceutical companies have too much influence in the laws, policies, and regulations of our government?  We do.”

Liz Ditz provides a great service, compiling blog posts pro-Wakefield and, separately, those criticizing Wakefield and/or supporting the GMC’s decision.  (As of today, the Wakefield critics seem to have been more prolific.)

Thursday’s BBC report concludes with a graphic showing a decline in MMR coverage in the UK between 1996-97, when it stood at around 90%, and 2004, when it bottomed at around 80%.  Superimposed is the number of measles cases, which increased from a few dozen in 2005 to over 1200 in 2008.  The implication is that Wakefield’s report was somehow responsible for the drop in coverage in the late ’90s and that that decline led to a sharp uptick in measles incidence.  The graphic also implies that after Lancet retracted the original paper in 2004, public acceptance of MMR vaccine improved after Wakefield had been repudiated — but too late to prevent the measles upsurge.

Without supporting Wakefield’s methods, it’s still worth asking whether his 1998 paper should be held accountable for the decline in vaccine acceptability.  As early as February 1998, England’s Communicable Disease Surveillance Centre was reporting on the drop in MMR coverage from 1996 and ’97 data and BMJ reported in 2003 that the British trend was consonant with declines in MMR uptake in Europe generally:

[T]he experts say that coverage is substandard across Europe owing to a surprising lack of political will to implement an effective disease prevention programme, given the region’s stated goal to eliminate measles by 2007.

A decline in nationwide vaccine coverage to 80%  is probably less important as an explanation for increasing measles incidence in the U.K. than two other factors:  locally deficient MMR coverage and immigration from countries with lower vaccination rates.  In fact, measles increases in the UK seem to have been attributable to outbreaks in the northern part of the country and to high incidences among very young children in London, according the UK’s Health Protection Agency.

What’s to be learned from the Wakefield mess?

1. The role of pharmaceutical companies (including vaccine makers) in setting scientific agendas and moving policy remains an issue for many people.  Defenders of Big Public Health, like Mark Honigsbaum who writes an interesting piece in The Guardian today, tend to be dismissive of allegations that public health has become a game for technocrats in which corporations have too much sway.  But the defenders misunderstand those critiques.  The critics are not saying that government predictions are wrong where they should be right, nor that officials are on the take; the critique is this:  the relationship between profit makers and public agencies is sometimes awfully cozy and the attentiveness to real suffering is remarkably slight.

2. The pre-eminence of ethics boards, like Britain’s GMC, doesn’t always sit well.  With the Wakefield case, the MMR-autism controversy steps onto the slippery terrain of moral decision making in regard to research.  Many people don’t feel perfectly reassured about the ethics of medical practice when the overseers are themselves physicians, and the moral reasoning often seems restricted to “did the physician follow the rules?”

3. The stance of official agencies on autism doesn’t inspire confidence.  Vaccination is hard to exonerate as a cause of autism as long as the official approach is that autism is a disease, and by implication preventable — rather than a disability, which might or might not have a cause but whose sufferers, in either case, can be afforded decent lives.  To make matters worse, official agencies’ stance doesn’t defuse the controversy.  In the U.S. and U.K., they respond to anti-immunization claims with assertions about the safety of MMR in particular.  But they don’t seem to want to support the research that would test whether some children might be susceptible to damage incurred cumulatively by undergoing the numerous vaccinations that are scheduled for children today.  It’s unlikely that the scrutiny of immunization, or the controversy, is going to go away unless officials soften that stance.

We’ll probably hear more on this if the GMC rules to disbar Wakefield from practicing medicine.

Federal agencies are already scrambling to spin the disaster as a victory.  “From our point of view, this looks very successful,” CDC spokesman Richard Quartarone tells Stobbe.  Despite the fact (also noted in the AP story) that vaccine uptake was barely better among the flu-vulnerable groups who were the focus of the immunization effort:  22 percent of personnel at health care facilities, 38 percent of pregnant women.  Some success.

Apparently, New York State Health Commissioner Daines doesn’t want to be left off the victory train.  He announced on Friday that the law requiring immunization of staff of health care facilities would be enforced — even though a restraining order was issued by state Supreme Court Justice Thomas McNamara in October prohibiting enforcement.

(A federal district court judge in San Diego ruled this week in favor of the Rady Children’s Hospital’s union of nurses and technicians, according to San Diego CityBeat.  The union had requested arbitration of the hospital’s mandatory flu-immunization policy which, they claim, violates their collective-bargaining agreement.)

Health officials’ pandemic-flu-disaster story was flimsy from the get-go.  The evidence for a serious flu outbreak was slim, despite the attempts by officials and some reporters to make the situation look dire.  But through autumn 2009, at least there were some hospitalizations and deaths that served to maintain the sense of impending catastrophe that the disaster story sought to achieve.  Now, though, with flu activity in the U.S. less than usual for this time of year and no widespread occurrence of H1N1 flu reported, officials are playing with the numbers in their desperate attempt to peddle vaccine.

In her talk at Hunter College, for instance, Secretary Sibelius noted that “over a thousand” infants and children had died from H1N1 flu.  The CDC’s latest flu update counts 300 pediatric flu deaths from April 2009 through the beginning of the new year.  And it notes that about a third of the 236 pediatric flu deaths in the current season had bacteria cultured from sterile sites — suggesting the question of whether more timely medical care, rather than immunization, might have saved many of those kids.  Where the remaining 700 of Secretary Sibelius’s thousand pediatric flu deaths are to be found remains a mystery.

What’s happening here?  The federal government ordered 250 million doses of swine-flu vaccine last year.   Vaccine makers were looking at terrific earnings from this outbreak.  But they are now worried about losses in the anticipated $7.6 billion worth of global sales — because so much vaccine has gone unused.  Western European countries are stopping their orders and seeking to off-load existing stocks.  Americans don’t want the vaccine, at least not when swine flu seems to be less damaging than regular, seasonal flu and they aren’t feeling reassured about the safety of the rapidly produced vaccine.

Federal and state officials won’t let go, though.  It’s dispiriting.

The disaster in Haiti put the spotlight on suffering this past week.   Not just the tremendous death and damage from the event itself, but the penury and misery in which many Haitians lived even before they had to live with, or die in, the earthquake.  And the earthquake should have reminded anyone who was watching — which is to say, nearly everyone — to be appalled at the amount and degree of suffering in the world, even on days when there are no natural disasters making the news.

The disquieting thing, especially this week, is that people who are in a position to devote themselves to alleviating illness and dispelling misery — health officials, I mean — are preoccupied with covering up for their mistakes on flu and satisfying the needs of the pharmaceutical companies.  Instead of looking at the suffering in our midst.

May CDC become a force for real public health, not an advocate for the risk-avoidance canard.  May the new director, Dr. Frieden, stop favoring pharmaceutical companies’ profit making through expansion of immunization.  And may he direct the agency to begin to address legitimate public needs, like sound answers about vaccines and autism, and clear communication about what is — and isn’t — dangerous about obesity.

May WHO officials stop playing with the pandemic threat barometer.  May WHO begin demanding that the world’s wealthy countries devote at least the same resources to stopping diarrheal diseases, malaria, and TB as they do to dealing with high-news-value problems like new strains of flu.   Diarrheal illness kills as many children in Africa and Asia in any given week as the 2009 swine flu killed Americans in eight months.  So does malaria.   Direct policy, and money, toward sanitation, pure water free of parasites, adequate treatment of TB, mosquito control, and prevention of other causes of heavy mortality in the developing world — not just flu strains that threaten North America, Europe, and Japan.

May public health professionals lose their obsessions with bad habits. May the public health profession return to the problem of ensuring basic rights — access to sufficient food, clean water, decent housing, good education, a livable wage, and adequate child care — and ease up on its moralistic obsessions with nicotine and overeating (for recent examples of the preoccupation with tobacco, see this article or this one (abstracts here; subscription needed for full articles) in recent issues of the American Journal of Public Health).

May science be what Joanne Manaster does at her incomparable website: looking at the world with wonder, asking without dogmatic preconceptions how it works, and accepting that its irrepressible quirkiness makes it impossible to know the world perfectly.  May science not be the crystal-ball-gazing thing whose so-called “scientific” forecasts are really doomsday scenes worthy of the medieval Church — predictions of liquefied icecaps and rising seas,  hundreds of millions of deaths in a flu pandemic, or catastrophic plagues sparked by people with engineered smallpox virus.  There are plenty of reasons to be concerned about both the environment and disease outbreaks based on sound here-and-now observations; leave the forecasts of Apocalypse to the clergy, who know how to handle dread.

A new year’s wish (from the valedictory exhortation in Tony Kushner’s Angels in America):  “More life!”

But how can every day not be AIDS Day?  Over 5,000 people die of AIDS each day, worldwide — even now, in the era of effective therapy.  In south Asia alone, more people die of AIDS every two weeks than have died of the H1N1 swine flu worldwide in the past six months (about 8,000).  In Africa, AIDS takes that toll every two or three days.

AIDS is a big problem in far-away poor countries, in other words.  But unlike the usual poor-nation problems that are easily ignored in comfortable North America — malaria, sleeping sickness, dengue, diarrhea, and more — AIDS is still a problem here, too.   Surely, you might think, we ought not to need any reminders about AIDS.

Much has been said about AIDS, and much has been done.  What does World AIDS Day add?

A harder question, perhaps: why can’t AIDS just be an ordinary disease? Surely, you might think, it isn’t special anymore.

Here are some thoughts on the problem of ordinariness, published in the American Scholar a few years ago.  The occasion was the 25th anniversary of the announcement of the first U.S. cases of AIDS.

In dealing with the issue of a pandemic, if we stick to finding out how to block the infection completely, we may take extreme measures and, as a result, trigger a pandemic panic. Is there a way to avoid the pandemic without adding to people’s concern more than necessary? (full text of query here).

Since the question of balancing response with panic promotion is on many minds, this seems worth addressing.  But there’s the larger problem:  do we need even to ask this question?  Is there a crisis on hand with flu?

We think not.

“Marx claimed that great events of history occur twice, first as tragedy and then as farce,” we pointed out.

“The swine flu of 2009 certainly looks like a farcical replay of the great influenza outbreak of 1918…. [It's] not a funny farce…but death from contagion is a normal part of life in an unpredictable universe.”  A few thousand deaths in the course of six months is lamentable, certainly.  But it’s hardly out of the ordinary for flu.

The collusion of officials and big corporations has been allowed to construct a global crisis. The farce is that the imagined flu crisis will benefit exactly the people who constructed it.

The vaccine manufacturers can expect to see a great expansion of markets (don’t miss Brownlee and Lenzer on flu immunization in the Nov. ’09 Atlantic).

The antiviral-medication manufacturers, the makers of Tamiflu especially, are already bringing in plenty of money for a treatment that is useful in rare clinical situations but has never been shown to stop the spread of flu in large populations.

Officials benefit, too.  They claim they must roll out flu vaccine and provide frequent information updates in order to  “prevent panic.”  And then they’ll look like they’ve done a good job — since, there being no crisis, people are staying calm.

Read the full post here.

In this week’s Lancet, Dr. Steven Black, from Cincinnati Children’s Hospital, and colleagues present calculations of the expected frequencies of adverse consequences (abstract at link; subscription required for full text) likely to result from flu immunization.  The intent being to provide a basis for comparison, so that when events do occur following immunization, the vaccine won’t be blamed for them.

“Widespread beliefs that such false associations [of adverse events with vaccination] are true can and do disrupt immunization programs, often to the detriment of public health,” the authors write.

Testament to the persuasiveness of the rhetoric, an experienced and knowledgeable Reuters reporter is taken in.  Covering the Lancet article, Maggie Fox writes:

People have special fears about Guillain Barre Syndrome (GBS). a rare neurological condition that was linked to a 1976 U.S. swine flu vaccination campaign. Although no case of GBS was ever linked to the vaccine, a belief that the vaccine was worse than the illness remains widespread.

Not exactly.  At least 500 cases of GBS were linked to flu vaccine in 1976 — “linked” in the sense that Fox uses the word in the first sentence:  they occurred in vaccine recipients and were in excess of the number of GBS cases likely to have occurred had there been no adverse effect of vaccination.  Thirty-two of those cases were fatal.  That they were not “linked” in her second sentence means that the criteria for association have shifted, or can shift.

The method by which the 1976 GBS cases were linked to vaccine was exactly the same as the method Black and his colleagues propose as the test for determining whether adverse events are linked to the 2009 immunizations.

But if the nature of association can shift, then Black and company can play a double game.  On the one hand, no illness or death can be attributed to vaccine if it occurs at a rate less than that expected in normal times, sans vaccination.  That’s the premise of this week’s Lancet article.

On the other hand, no illness or death that occurs at a rate greater than expected can be attributed to vaccine unless there is some additional proof — not just statistics but, we imagine, pathology results from surgery or autopsy — demonstrating a link between vaccine and illness, or vaccine and death.  That’s the conclusion that the Reuters correspondent drew after talking with Black and company.

In other words, the vaccine “scientists” have already demonstrated that you’re wrong if you think vaccine has done anything bad.   Don’t bother alleging that vaccine harmed your child, spouse, or parent.

We have to wonder why physicians (the main authors of the Lancet paper are all MDs, as are the public health officials who are promoting mass immunization as a flu-control strategy) are mounting their defense of flu vaccination, when hardly anyone has been immunized yet.

And we have to wonder why physicians call themselves scientists when they don’t want to deal with evidence — only their own certainty that vaccination is a good public health strategy.  A strategy whose inevitable shortcomings they’re already defending.

This month’s American Journal of Public Health brings us a primer (abstract here; subscription required for full text), written by lawyers supported by the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation, teaching “policymakers to avoid potential constitutional problems in the formation of obesity prevention policy.”

The article isn’t exactly a Steal This Book for the anti-obesity crusaders, but the authors’ stated aim is to help those crusaders skirt legal challenges to statutes that might, for instance, ban fast foods or require the posting of accurate calorie counts on restaurant menus:  “This primer is meant not to deter obesity prevention efforts but to foster them,” the authors adumbrate.

Of course, the anti-obesity crusade is well on its way to using the law to tighten the control of behavior already.  And the failure of restaurant calorie counts to show any effect on eating patterns isn’t dampening enthusiasm, it seems.

Brian Elbel of NYU and colleagues just reported in Health Affairs that the calorie counts now posted by law in New York (another piece of legislation backed by our bluenose mayor) don’t affect how much people eat,  based on a study of over a thousand New Yorkers from minority neighborhoods (abstract here, full article here).  At Freakonomics, Stephen Dubner surmises that this sort of program only helps people “who are already the most vigilant about their health and well-being.”  But it’s hard to find anyone in public health who is opposed.

They should be.   The public health industry, which likes to claim its main interest is human dignity, should be lobbying for less regulation of human appetites, not more.

But public health is often the pre-eminent paradigm of control in our society. Rename the acts or traits you find morally repugnant as diseases, and you can hand them to the health sector for management.   Once you say you’ve got an epidemic on your hands, you can count on the public health industry to respond.  Alcoholism, addiction, smoking, obesity, social anxiety… there seems to be a big supply of epidemics that used to be moral offenses or threats to the social order and are now opportunities for your doctor or your health commissioner — not your clergyman — to tell you how to act.

The neat thing about the control exercised through public health is that you never have to sermonize, read Bible verses, or prophesy Apocalypse.  The rhetoric of risk is a lot easier for the self-professed progressives in public health to swallow than religious sermonizing would be.  Even when the sermon and the risk rhetoric have the identical goal: wiping out the moral offense.

From Junkfood Science, we learn that

Employers will now perform random tests of employees for evidence that they’ve smoked outside of work and will weigh employees in the workplace and report their BMIs to the state. Employees deemed noncompliant with the State Health Plan’s employer wellness initiative, will pay one-third-more for health insurance. Employers believed that eliminating smokers and fat people would lower health costs.

And from WSJ Health Blog, that the CEO of pharmaceutical corporation Schering-Plough agreed (at a meeting at the Cleveland Clinic) that people with unhealthy behavior should pay more for health insurance.  Sure — you certainly wouldn’t want the wealthy to pay more.

That’s not the only problem with the public health industry’s vigorous embrace of behavioral control, but it’s a big one.  Start classifying people based on how they behave, and you begin discriminating against the ones who don’t act right.  But the ones who you think don’t act right are almost always the ones society was already discriminating against — the poor, most of all.

And even when the poor aren’t getting shafted in the crusade against the unhealthy, inquiry about how a just society should work is going down the tubes.  The profound moral-philosophical questions of what is the right way to live a life, the right way to raise children, the nature of liberty, and so forth, are surrendered in the public health paradigm – replaced with the simple dichotomy:  healthy vs. not-healthy.