As Martin Enserink reports at Science Insider:

Two groups of scientists who carried out highly controversial studies with the avian influenza virus H5N1 have reluctantly agreed to strike certain details from manuscripts describing their work after having been asked to do so by a U.S. biosecurity council. The as-yet unpublished papers, which are under review at Nature and Science, will be changed to minimize the risks that they could be misused by would-be bioterrorists.

The “biosecurity council” in question is the U.S. National Science Advisory Board for Biosecurity, an arm of the NIH’s Office of Science Policy.   It has recommended censorship of research on genetic alterations of avian (H5N1) flu that might make the virus easily transmissible between humans and pathogenic as well — ingredients for a potentially serious human outbreak.

I attach little public health importance to the experimental work, carried out by Fouchier in the Netherlands and Kawaoka in the U.S.  Flu’s behavior in human populations has been notoriously difficult to predict, even with relatively advanced molecular information about viral strains.  Flu forecasters repeatedly predict bad outbreaks and even (as in 2009) devastating pandemics — which fail to materialize.

Even when it comes to the most studied flu outbreak of all, the 1918 pandemic, opinions still differ on why so many millions of people died.

This week, what concerns me is the biosecurity industry.  It seems more than ever eager to terrify people.   The Fouchier and Kawaoka experiments themselves are interesting but hardly recipes for disaster.   And yet, some voices say the research shouldn’t have been carried out in the first place.  Surprisingly, they include the respected D.A. Henderson, here much mistaken.  He editorializes this week with two coauthors for the online publication Biosecurity and Bioterrorism.

It’s not opposition to science — it’s just the biosecurity “experts” making a living.

The move to suppress publication of research results because scientific findings might tip off some chimerical evildoers is ridiculous.  Fouchier, Kawaoka, and their teams were obviously trying to contribute to the search for ways to make people safer.   That’s what most people want science to do.  Instead of urging caution, the many scientists on the NSABB should be standing up for the wide dissemination of scientific findings — not for suppressing them.  Made-up concerns over “bioterrorism” should not trump public access to scientific research.

And the NSABB scientists shouldn’t be cowed by the self-professed biosecurity “experts” at the Center for Biosecurity.

The sole raison-d’etre of the “biosecurity” business is to keep itself in business — by keeping people terrified.   It does that by continually invoking impossible scenarios that are supposed to (a) frighten the public and (b) cause the public to buy products that we don’t need or give up rights that we do need.

After being scared into thinking the 2009 H1N1 outbreak was going to be a reprise of the 1918 flu calamity and finding that it was exceptionally mild instead, surely the public is not going to be taken in by the biosecurity industry much longer.

It’s anybody’s guess as to whether the new findings about H5N1 are at all meaningful in (human) public health terms.  Which is what happens with science.  That’s why the point of suppressing the findings isn’t to make anyone safer – - it’s just to keep the biosecurity experts in business.

The subject is a report published by CDC today claiming that obesity among NYC schoolkids in grades K through 8 has decreased 5.5%.

The city’s health commissioner, Thomas A. Farley has been true to the shades of history’s empty-headed warriors.  Farley announced that the drop in obesity prevalence is a “turning-point in the obesity epidemic” although it “does not by any means mark the end.”

A missed photo opp:  Dr. Farley standing on top of a fat child, holding up a sign reading, “Mission Accomplished.”

Farley is zealous about controlling people’s behavior and contemptuous of facts (nobody will ever accuse him of being an intellectual, either).  He blogs about his own work for the exclusive reading pleasure of Department of Health staffers.  This allows his staff to read the Farley-esque twist on truth.  One example for now:  in October of 2010, Farley’s blog exultantly told his staff that in 2009 the department had “immunized nearly 130,000 children [against flu] in more than 1,200 schools over a few months.”  Of course, health department employees are smart — many of them knew that the 2009 H1N1 vaccine Farley was talking about was a fiasco, far too late to make a difference, and aimed at an outbreak that was more of a whimper than a bang.

What about today’s “turning point” in the obesity war?  It’s worth noting that the supposed drop in obesity among NYC schoolkids is really just a very slight (1.2%) difference in the prevalence of obesity between 2006-7 and 2010-11.

A small difference between small numbers amounts to a large percentage difference.  So the 1.2%  actual difference magically turns into the advertised 5.5% — the proportionate change.

But the false advertising gets worse

1.  The prevalence of obesity in NYC was not measured multiple times on the same group of kids (to use epidemiology jargon:  this wasn’t a panel study).  Nobody observed fat children becoming less fat.  The city simply measured obesity prevalence each year on 5- to 14-year-olds who were in the school system.  So a high proportion of the 21.9% of kids who were labeled obese in 2006-7 would have been out of the age range for the 2010-11 assessment.

Plus, lots of kids leave the NYC school system after grade school (this has to do with Bloomberg administration’s bizarre system for preventing children from attending local schools).  So, even those children who haven’t aged out of the analysis by turning 15 would be absent from the data after a few years.  And, there’s also natural immigration and emigration.

Did the 2006 fat kids get slimmer?  Nobody knows.  The 2006-7 obesity prevalence among NYC schoolkids (21.9%) can’t be compared to the 2010-11 prevalence (20.7%).  If you were forced to compare these numbers, you’d say there had been a slight change — not a 5.5% decline.  There’s the first lie.

2.  The second lie is a little more complicated.   Since there is no widely accepted functional definition for childhood obesity, children are labeled obese if their body-mass index (BMI) falls into the upper 5% of the expected distribution of weight-for-height.  This expectation is based on an old-fashioned standard.  Fair enough.  But lots of distributions shift over time — SAT scores, human height, grades awarded at Ivy League colleges, and global average temperature, to name a few.

Sometimes the reason for an overall shift of this sort isn’t hard to specify (test prep, nutritional quality, relaxation of grading standards, generalized global warming, etc.).  But the main effect causing a shift in the distribution doesn’t explain why the few people who are in the upper reaches of the distribution are so far from the mean.  To say that fewer children are now above the high-BMI cutoff than in 2006-7 therefore the tendency of children to be fat is declining is a lot like claiming that because 2011 was cooler than 2009 and 2010, global temperatures are not really going up.

(Dr. Farley, I gather that statistics aren’t your strong suit, but surely when you witnessed that snowstorm we had this past October — an outlier if there ever was one — you didn’t conclude that the climate is actually getting colder, not hotter.  So what makes you think that a very tiny decrease in the proportion of kids with high BMIs means that the city’s kids are getting slimmer?)

3.  Claiming credit.   Attributing to the health agency’s own efforts a minuscule change in the proportion of kids who are in the upper tail of the broad BMI distribution requires self-congratulation so acrobatic as to stretch credulity.

Maybe there really has been some change in the city’s children since 2006.  Or in our food supply or buying habits.  Or exercising.  But to claim that such a change both caused the tiny decline in schoolkid obesity prevalence and that it was the result of the Health Department’s efforts — the exercising and the low-fat milk and the salad bars in the school cafeterias and so forth — is to commit the fallacy that Rene Dubos outlined (in his book Mirage of Health) nearly 50 years ago:

When the tide is receding from the beach it is easy to have the illusion that one can empty the ocean by removing water with a pail.

Is childhood obesity really a health problem?

It’s not crazy for health professionals to be concerned about body mass.  Obesity might be really bad for some people, and somewhat bad for many.

But those people are adults.  Why are health agencies like NYC’s so riled up about obesity in little children?

So far, there’s no strong evidence that obesity in younger children predicts any real harm later in life, other than being a fat adult.  With adults, several signs of impending debility are more commonly found in the obese than the non-obese, such as hardening of the arteries, fatty liver, sleep apnea, and diabetes.   And with adolescents, there’s some evidence that those who are obese develop similar warning signs.  But not younger kids.

A 2005 BMJ paper reported only social effects in adulthood (being unemployed and being without a romantic partner) of early obesity.  Similarly, one cohort study carried out in Newcastle upon Tyne found little evidence that fat children became fat adults, and no evidence for predictors of illness in adulthood among those who had been overweight as children — although other studies have shown correlations between adolescent obesity and adult problems.

For kids below age 15, the most visible problem with obesity is that it occurs most commonly among the poor and dark-skinned.  This bothers the obesity warriors.  In fact, not only is obesity more common in African- and Hispanic-American children in NYC, even the slipshod standards of today’s report on NYC schoolkids can’t be manipulated to show that obesity is declining among these children.

As with all holy wars, from the Children’s Crusade through the U.S. invasion of Iraq, the warriors aren’t really concerned about principle.  Something about somebody got under their skin.

Here’s how I answer my own question:  I guess the obesity crusaders don’t like it when the children of the wealthy look like the children of the poor.  They think that white kids on the Upper East Side aren’t supposed to look like kids who live in the Bronx.

It isn’t about health, in other words.  It isn’t even about obesity.  The “childhood obesity epidemic” is about making sure society looks the way that the health crusaders want it to look.

[t]he most popular contraceptive for women in eastern and southern Africa, a hormone shot given every three months, appears to double the risk the women will become infected with H.I.V.

and almost everybody else (as diversely situated in newsworld as the Atlantic, CNN health blog, Catholic News Agency, and Voice of America) joined the NYT in failing to examine it critically.

Gerdts and Vohra add the essential context that was missed by the newsmedia:  about a half-million women die during or because of childbirth each year, almost all of them in poor countries.

At RH Reality Check, Jodi Jacobson summarizes the main cautions about the Heffron study, and points to a Guttmacher Institute white paper.  She takes into account concerns about high maternal and infant mortality in parts of Africa, the harms associated with complications of pregnancy and unsafe abortions, and, of course, the substantial possibility of vertical transmission of HIV in places where antiretroviral therapy isn’t universally available.

To claim that poor women should give more weight to the rather remote risk of acquiring a virus that might cause serious illness years down the road than to the dangers of pregnancy itself in the near term is to reduce real women to automata.  Facing dire straits they might be, but they’re supposed to be reasoning machines, programmed to engage in the AIDS industry’s preferred calculus, risk.

A quick summary of the shortcomings of the Heffron et al. research:  comparing users of hormonal contraception to nonusers, the difference in actual risk of acquiring or transmitting HIV was very small, amounting to 1 to 3 new infections per one hundred contraceptive users over and above the infection rate for nonusers.  And it’s impossible to say that these excess infections were actually attributable to the contraceptive — because the study wasn’t a clinical trial.  A great many aspects of social setting, relationships, health, and welfare of the study subjects would have been different between contraception users and nonusers, some of which would undoubtedly account for differences in rate of HIV transmission.

And since all of the subjects were in so-called discordant couples — one partner infected with HIV, the other not — it would be unusual to expect no HIV transmission at all.

Unless, of course, the subjects had been offered antiretroviral therapy, ART.  But this the researchers did not do.  They referred eligible subjects to HIV clinics.  They seem not to have checked whether people who needed ART were getting it.  They seem not to have offered ART to women who got pregnant, either.  Certainly, their Lancet article makes no report of doing so.

I wondered if this was too much to expect of researchers — so I asked the students taking my course on global AIDS and human rights.  Undergraduates, I find, generally have a clearer sense of ethics than most medical researchers.

Even the students who felt that the Heffron study was worth doing and basically sound were troubled by the researchers’ lack of curiosity as to whether HIV-infected subjects were getting the ART drugs they needed.  And most of the students thought this was a disabling ethical fault, which should have caused human subjects committees to make the researchers redesign the study.  One student pointed out that the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation, one of the study’s funding sources, could easily afford to pay for antiretroviral therapy for all of the roughly 2,000 HIV-infected people in the study.

In the end, my students had the questions that Marcia Angell raised in her editorial in the New England Journal of Medicine in 2011 (PDF at this link angell editorial nejm 2000 ):  Don’t physician researchers have the same responsibility to study subjects that they do to their own patients?  And therefore, when their subjects lack resources to obtain effective therapy for treatable conditions, don’t the researchers have a moral obligation to make the therapies available?

Heffron et al. didn’t do this.  They watched HIV-infected people transmit HIV to their partners (the researchers provided HIV testing and counseling about avoiding transmission — but they don’t make clear whether they notified uninfected partners that they might be in harm’s way).  They did little to prevent transmission.  Notably, they didn’t offer ART to people with low CD4 counts.  Nor did they offer post-exposure prophylaxis to uninfected people who had had intercourse with an infected partner.  They just watched.

On this account, the Heffron study wasn’t only flawed — it was so questionable on ethical grounds that the Lancet should be ashamed to have published it.  And the funders — the NIH as well as the Bill & Melinda Gates foundation — censured.

The occasion was CDC’s publication in PLOS One of new figures claiming that the annual number of new HIV infections in the U.S. is only around 50,000.

And if you read the CDC’s new Fact Sheet on HIV infection, just posted, you find out that

The current level of HIV incidence in the United States is likely not sustainable. Prevention efforts in recent years have successfully averted significant increases in new HIV infections, despite the growing number of people living with HIV and AIDS who are able to transmit the virus.

CDC English is a little difficult for native speakers to interpret, but I think that the translation of “likely not sustainable” is:  “we need more money or else the incidence is going to go up.”

Now, 50,000 new HIV infections each year is bad news for 50,000 Americans.  But on a population basis, it’s not a very high number.  The HIV prevention industry will wring its hands, and perhaps Mr. Kramer will, too.  They can all grumble that after 30 years of AIDS there should be no new infections at all.   But that’s ridiculous.  A pipe dream.  HIV is a sexually transmissible infection.  And STIs can’t be eradicated — because, well, people have sex.  No matter what.  And sometimes the kind of sex that isn’t recommended by the experts. With the wrong people.  And so forth.

Really, that there are only 50,000 new infections each year is a sign of (a) the low inherent infectiousness of HIV and (b) Americans’ sharp awareness of how to protect themselves from HIV infection.   It’s not really clear that any new prevention is needed.

What is needed:  get effective treatment into more HIV-infected people.   Obviously, to slow the progression of HIV-based impairment in the individual — but also as a public health measure, to reduce the HIV carrier’s infectivity and thereby reduce the probability of transmission.  It would have medical value and public health value.  But there’s not much policy on that.

CDC officials are bean counters, not policy makers.  That’s why, Mr. Kramer, your expectations are too high.  The CDC’s job is not to do anything about AIDS.  CDC’s job was never to do anything about AIDS.  CDC’s job was, and is, and presumably will always be:  to keep CDC in business.

They’re terrific bean counters, obsessive, scrupulous, punctilious, completely absorbed in their own assumption that their data are a source of truth, committed to deciphering the supposedly unequivocal message the data send.

The message, always, is “CDC needs to do more of what it’s been doing.”

I gave the CDC a hard time in August 2008, when the agency published its estimate that there are 56,000 new HIV infections in the U.S. each year.  That seemed too high, I told the NY Times at the time.  Of course, it was useful for the CDC’s rudderless AIDS division to claim that HIV incidence was higher than everyone thought:  suddenly, lots of people were urging that HIV  prevention programs be beefed up.

Now, the agency has backpedaled. The 2006 incidence wasn’t 56,000 after all, the CDC now figures, it was only 48,000.  And anyway 56,000 is the same as 48,000, the agency now says.

Let me summarize:  Back in 2008, the CDC’s estimate supposedly showed that prevention wasn’t working, so the agency needed to do more of it.  The new estimate, which is almost the same as the old estimate, shows that prevention does work, so the agency needs to do more of it.  All CDC calculations point to the same conclusion:  keep CDC in business.

If CDC were interested in the nation’s health, more so than maintaining its meager status quo, it would be advocating for more treatment (to Donald McNeil’s credit, he makes that point in today’s NYT article).

And if CDC were interested in HIV as a public health problem, and not just in bean counting for the purposes of keeping itself in business, it would stop putting its beans into 30-year-old jars.  What’s the point of the tired “race/ethnicity” breakdown?  Does anybody know anymore how to categorize people into the ancient non-Hispanic-black/Hispanic-including-black/non-Hispanic-white codification?  Does anybody know what it means?

And the famous transmission categories, the MSM-IDU-heterosexual-other breakdown:  that was useful early on, when we weren’t sure that the modes of communication of HIV were fully known.  But that era ended in 1985.

Dear CDC:  Could you please put your beans into some useful jars?

No, it’s asking too much.  Because CDC’s aim isn’t to be useful.  It’s to keep counting beans exactly the way it knows how to count them, and put them into the same jars as always, and keep on concluding that the data — the beans — show that CDC must keep on doing exactly what it has been doing.

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.

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.

Finger pointing about the “cause” of the outbreak — finger pointing at Nepalese peace keepers, the UN mission, relief workers, or Haitian health workers — is a way of avoiding the fundamental problem:  insufficient political will to create working infrastructure for poor countries.  Haiti being the leading example, the cholera outbreak being the case study.

Given how shaky the living arrangements have been for many Haitians since the January earthquake, given the pre-existing destitution and the anemia of efforts to fix that, it’s a tribute to the Haitian health system that cholera didn’t break out until October.  It might have been much sooner.

But now that cholera is spreading, it seems that more energy is going into using the outbreak to whip up political animus in, and about, Haiti than to figuring out how to make sure it doesn’t happen again.

This week, the politicization of the cholera outbreak seems to get worse by the day (Crawford Kilian’s cholera coverage at H5N1 continues to keep abreast of both the cholera outbreak and the political uses it’s being put to).   I talked to John Hockenberry and Celeste Headlee about this on The Takeaway yesterday, pointing out that the problem is social crisis, not Nepalese troops.  It’s poverty, lack of adequate sanitation, poor access to clean water — not foreigners.

Here’s the segment of The Takeaway:

In contrast to the misleading headline of Reuters’ piece, what Ms. Fox covers is not the (pseudo) mystery of “who brought cholera to Haiti?”  It’s the effort by CDC, the Haitian health ministry, and PAHO to determine whether the outbreak likely started from a single source or multiple ones.

The findings are reported in the Morbidity and Mortality Weekly Report this week:  Haitian cases all carried Vibrio cholerae of the O1 serogroup, serotype Ogawa (a very common strain), with DNA of a single pulse-field gel electrophoresis pattern.  Because of the propensity for mutation or recombination events in the reproduction of bacteria, it would be extremely unlikely for different people to be carrying bacteria with the identical PFGE pattern unless they had all been exposed to an identical strain.  [N.B.  Strictly speaking, cholera is not an infection:  the illness results from poisoning by V. cholera in the intestine, not from actual infection of tissue.  Therefore I write "exposed to" rather than "infected by."]

Based on the findings so far, CDC and its partners concludes that the outbreak probably began with a single strain.

Did this strain arrive in cholera recently, or has it been around for some time and only recently came to attention as a cause of mass morbidity and mortality?  Did it arrive in a person and contaminate the environment via feces, or arrive in food or water?  Was there a single initiating exposure, or did cholera arrive inside multiple people or food items?  As Fox points out, the study can’t answer these questions.

It makes sense to seek information on how the outbreak got started in order to plan for better systems to prevent future outbreaks.  CDC is on the right track here.

But by calling this a whodunit, Reuters is pandering to people who want to inflame tempers, not spreading information about what can be done to make Haiti healthier.  Shame on you, Reuters.

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.

Haiti today: in the mouth of death.  Not just Haiti, of course.  Deadly, gruesome, and hard to stop, cholera seems emblematic of the many failures that preceded the earthquake and have been exacerbated since.  We Americans are paying attention to Haiti lately — because of the earthquake; because of proximity; or because however bad things are here, what with high unemployment and poor economic prospects, Haiti conveniently reminds us of what we’re not.  But really much of the world, of the dollar-a-day world, is in the mouth of death much of the time.

With cholera, the relief agencies are hard at work.  Ansel Herz, a freelance journalist who blogs at Mediahacker, writes that there have been five cholera deaths in Port-au-Prince as of this morning, although the authorities say those people came to the capital from elsewhere and that cholera isn’t yet spreading in Port-au-Prince.  Still, cholera mortality is over 200 nationally.   Herz describes the earnest efforts of aid workers.  But his reportage, along with that of the Miami Herald, the NY Times, and others, also reveals the shortcomings of relying on aid organizations to contain the complex problems — of which cholera is the latest.

Partners in Health, to my mind the most earnest and committed of the aid organizations, is compiling reports on the spread of cholera and, of course, trying to do something about it.  But here’s the problem: if it’s the aid workers who are trying to stop cholera, it’s too late.  I don’t mean that they’ll fail; I mean that there should have been infrastructure in place to make sure cholera doesn’t break out at all.  And if there’s no such infrastructure, cholera will happen again, however well it’s halted this time.

It’s hard to escape the image, provided by Herz, of a new water tank installed near Cité Soleil by the International Organization for Migration — which stands empty, because nobody has provided clean water to fill it.

This is the problem with aid:  of course there must be organizations, like Partners in Health or MSF, that provide relief to the suffering.  But if there’s no support, or demand, for permanent public health infrastructure, the aid workers will always be scrambling to keep up with crises, and the crises won’t stop happening.

In the New Yorker this month, Philip Gourevitch takes a skeptical view of humanitarian aid (abstract here; full article requires subscription).  He summarizes the message of Dutch journalist Linda Polman sympathetically:

Now, Gourevitch is talking specifically about crises created by political conflict.  But something of this dilemma pervades the problem of relief.  Public health is political.  It takes political will — not just oral rehydration therapy — to install water supplies and sewage systems, and housing with running water even for the poor.

Canada is going to send a million dollars to Haiti to help with the cholera problem (thanks to Crof at H5N1 for picking that up).  No doubt the U.S. will outdo its neighbor in looking mournful and concerned, and donating even more money.  But where’s the support for good government, and real public health, and necessary infrastructure?

What are we doing to promote the implementation of good public health? What are we doing to generate the political will to install even just the ordinary civil engineering works that we take for granted in America, but which would make a difference to the people who are living in the mouth of death?

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.

Reviewing five books on what he calls the “food movements,” Pollan notes the widespread discontent with contemporary industrialized food production (I’ll call this “American eating,” although its dominance is increasing around the world).  And he suggests that its common theme is cultural discomfort. The food movement, Pollan argues, has “set out to foster new forms of civil society”:

It makes sense that food and farming should become a locus of attention for Americans disenchanted with consumer capitalism.  Food is the place in daily life where corporatization can be most vividly felt…  The corporatization of something as basic and intimate as eating is, for many of us today, a good place to draw the line.

This is a refreshing insight.  It’s thankfully broad, taking  the focus away from health, and therefore from the anti-obesity crusade and the “toxic food environment” view promoted by health advocates.

But Pollan’s perspective is especially refreshing because it renews the conversation about our private lives — particularly the extent to which we’ve ceded our innermost values to the demands of corporate profit and government policies.  And those demands, as Marion Nestle often points out (recently here), are generally linked.

Pollan reminds us that our innermost values are literally innermost:  they have to do with what goes into our stomachs.

I’ve already stated my argument that the anti-obesity crusade is really about control, not health (see here and here).   The crusaders do cite “public health” as a rationale for the war against obesity.  But when they describe what’s wrong, they do so in terms that are sometimes medical (diabetes, hypertension), sometimes technical (serving sizes, calorie counts, the infamous toxic food environment), and sometimes medieval (gluttony, laziness).  Their inability to articulate the source of the problem is a signal that they’re sure something is out of control but unsure exactly what.

The public health approach to obesity is a failure.  It doesn’t let us talk about what needs to be reformed.  And it’s often allied with efforts to make sure the poor stay poor — even though wealth inequality is surely part of the problem in the first place.  The public health industry’s demands for additional regressive taxation in the form of increased “fat” taxes on sugary beverages or high-calorie foods reveal its preference for the status quo.  Make the poor pay more for their soda and fast food; that will make them think twice about supporting industries that are making us fat.

Even well-meaning public health professionals who advocate government intervention against low-price-but-low-nutrition food  as a way of curtailing obesity ignore the central role of food and eating to liberty and happiness — they’re interested primarily in how many additional years of life (however unhappy) could be purchased by trading in the fries in favor of broccoli.  Or, worse, they’re interested only in the dollar costs to taxpayers — in terms of hypertension and heart disease — of tolerating obesity.

Pollan, today’s most thoughtful and insightful philosopher on the subject of food and eating, offers a more satisfying view.  Sure, you may want to change American eating because you think obesity is bad for people’s health.   But you might want to change eating simply because the food scene is distressing, because it crystallizes and exemplifies the many ways that we give over our private (innermost!) moral decisions to the influences of corporate/consumerist thinking.  You might want to change it because, as Pollan reminds us (in regard to a new book by Janet Flammang), the dominance of American statecraft by corporations allows the preparation of food to be relegated to the least valued, least powerful, and lowest paid workers.  You might want food to taste better — valuing pleasure over longevity.

With Pollan’s broad view, you  don’t have to join the anti-obesity crusade.  You don’t have to speak the technical language of risk.  The common language of freedom, desire, and pleasure will do.

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.

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.

Is it the Advertisement?

A full-page ad taken out by DHHS in the main news section of today’s NY Times sounds very defensive when it claims that “H1N1 Flu Vaccine is Safe and Effective.”

The advertisement makes it seem like getting immunized against swine flu is a kind of patriotic duty.

Fighting the flu is a shared responsibility.  We ask you to join this fight to protect yourself and your community by getting the H1N1 flu vaccine.

And it’s signed by leaders of 35 health- or safety-related organizations — “top medical professionals,” according to the page’s header — who seem to be collaborators in a DHHS attempt to guilt the public into getting a flu shot.  Do it for your neighbors if you won’t do it for yourself, the text seems to say.

The clumsy production of the ad itself makes it all the more abject:  there’s a quarter page of grey text in a swimmy, sans-serif font, below which are two stacks of logos (of the 35 organizations) — vaguely impressive as a color border to the text in the version posted at flu-dot-gov, but just visual noise spilling down the Times page in black and white.

And some of the logos are trademarked or registered — requiring a tiny-type footnote reminding any reader intrepid enough to have reached the bottom of the page that DHHS doesn’t endorse private enterprises.  (It’s a little hard to understand how the collaboration on flu vaccination does not constitute an endorsement of private enterprises, but let’s not get bogged down.)

Is it the armada of PSAs and posters?

The ad is just the latest attempt by DHHS to muster enthusiasm for the flu campaign.  It makes available a panoply of printed material at its flu website, intended for Spanish-speaking Americans, African Americans, Asian and Pacific Islander Americans, “asthma patients,” and others.  With a separate flotilla of posters and publications for parents, many bilingual (“I’ll protect my baby/Protegeré a mi bebé” and others), plus additional ones meant for older people, diabetics, and travelers.

It’s hard to escape the feeling that DHHS is trying too hard.  And hard to avoid wondering why.

Is it the information itself?

The second sentence of the Times ad tells the sad story:  Over 136 million doses of H1N1 vaccine are now available.   Since the number of flu vaccine doses actually administered so far is probably about 60 million, it takes only grade-school arithmetic to realize that the federal government purchased much more H1N1 vaccine than Americans are willing to take.

DHHS’s desperate need for everyone to get vaccinated is disheartening.  After all, this is the organization that created and carried out the previous swine flu fiasco entirely on its own:  the 1976 immunize-every-American campaign to prevent the Flu Outbreak That Wasn’t.

So it’s bad enough that CDC, with more experience and research findings than it had in ’76,  badly overestimated the intensity of the 2009 H1N1 flu outbreak.  It’s worse that DHHS  grossly overestimated the ardor of the American people for media-heavy health crusades at a time of tight budgets and high unemployment.  Most dispiriting of all is that the agency finally resorts to wheedling the public to get immunized against swine flu.

Which gives us a glimpse of another contributor to the sense that DHHS is floundering:

There is a widespread feeling that official agencies overplayed their hand on swine flu.

Everywhere, it seems, doubts are being voiced about the decisions by both U.S. authorities and WHO — declaring the pandemic, publicizing the unprecedented danger, supporting mass immunization, purchasing and distributing Tamiflu, and so on:

• There are concerns about conflicts of interest on the part of flu experts.
• There are suspicions, reflected in the resolution introduced by Wolfgang Wodarg and passed by the Assembly of the Council of Europe (thanks to Ed Silverman for covering that) to launch an inquiry into the influence of vaccine makers on WHO’s flu policy.
• There are the accusations of hype coming from both the democratic left and libertarian right, from vaccine supporters who feel that the overstatement of the swine-flu threat diminishes the public’s faith in immunization in general, and from those who believe vaccines induce autism.

A conclusion:  it feels like DHHS is drowning because it is.  Officials made bad choices, fell for the preparedness charade, lost sight of what it would mean to protect the public’s health and strove instead to protect the professional organizations’ campaigns for attention and the pharmaceutical companies’ ploys for profit.

An appeal to Secretary Sibelius:  just say “We goofed.”

Say “We should have used the resources to help people quit smoking or to control MRSA or to verify the safety of pharmaceuticals. We didn’t; we overestimated flu.  We meant well but we loused up.  We’ll try to do better next time.”

Say “At least we didn’t kill people with vaccine, like in ’76″ (okay, for legal purposes, you probably have to say “…allegedly kill people,” since the U.S. government has not admitted that the 1976 vaccine actually caused the deaths from Guillain-Barré syndrome).

Say “How much better to have prepared by urging hospitals to consider surge capacity and then to find it wasn’t needed, than to have done nothing and seen people die who could have been saved by administering antivirals.”

Say “We know that vaccines are not the answer to flu.  We know that the flu vaccine isn’t very effective, we know that immunization against flu is not very useful as a public health intervention unless everyone is immunized, we know that it’s impossible in this country to force everyone to be immunized, we know that immunization is good for people who stand to get very sick if infected but that all it offers to the majority of the population is a reduction in the odds of getting sick.   We know that we need to take a more complex approach to flu control.  We’re working on all that.”

But please spare us the embarrassing advertisements.