Philip Alcabes discusses myths of health, disease and risk.

Public Health: Childhood is a Dangerous Place

Is there a Department of Scare Creation at Case Western?  This week, we have research reported by their Dr. Scott Frank and colleagues: “Hyper-texting and Hyper-networking Pose New Health Risks for Teens.”  Frank says,

The startling results of this study suggest that when left unchecked texting and other widely popular methods of staying connected can have dangerous health effects on teenagers.

(Aside to Dr. Frank:  C’mon, doc.  Do you not know that “hyper text” is already a term in wide usage? Do you know how sometimes there are underlined words, most often in blue, that, if you click on them with your mouse then you are magically transported to another website?  That’s it.  Do you realize that any teens who aren’t already laughing at you for your transparently hysterical research agenda have cause to snicker over your misuse of contemporary language?  But back to my point…)

The subject of a press release by the American Public Health Association, the study claims that teens who text  more than 120 times a day are, compared to light texters:

  • 41% more likely to have used illicit drugs
  • Nearly 3.5 times more likely to have had sex
  • 90% more likely to report having had four or more sexual partners

The results were based on a survey of over 4,000 high school students in the midwest.

The paper, presented at the annual meeting of the APHA, is yet another indicator of the association’s redirection — from promoting social reform to becoming the Popular Front for the Promotion of Family Values.   The news media complied with the APHA’s mongering by publicizing Frank et al.’s findings, for instance here, and so did the usually serious WebMD.

Research like this is meant to say both “childhood is deadly” and “children are dangerous.”  Teenagers have sex, it says, and you grownups shouldn’t take that lightly.

The connection of teen sex and teen drug use to cell phones, iPhones, or the Internet appeals to people who think there is something new, and terrifying, about modernity.  As Carl Phillips notes over at ep-ology, it’s a way of saying “Beware the scary new technology!  It is causing teens to interact.”

Of course, there’s also a race, class, and sex angle:  The study reported that excessive texting (along with what the authors call “hyper-networking,” meaning excessive use of social network sites) is more common among girls, racial minorities, and kids whose parents have less education. One more reason to be suspicious of the poor and the dark-of-skin, says the Popular Front.

Especially, the APHA wants us to beware of girls.  The public health industry — the folks who reminded your grandparents that female sexual desire spreads disease with posters like this one, from the ’40s:

US Government VD Poster, ca. 1940

Source: U. of Minnesota, Social Welfare History Archives

… now tell us to watch out for girls who text.

Mike Stobbe at AP, covering the report, did a (typically) good job of looking deeper into the question.  About half of kids between the ages of 8 and 18 text each day, and the ones who do average 118 texts per day. While texting while driving is a really bad idea, texting about sex isn’t uncommon (Stobbe points out).  Unlike texting while driving, nobody dies from it.

Public heath shouldn’t be a matter of, as the Frank report put it, wake-up calls for parents.   Childhood really is dangerous in some places (Somalia, Congo, and Haiti come to mind, in case physician-researchers currently obsessed with sex amongst American teenagers are looking for something useful to do with their medical skills).  But it isn’t in America.   Sex, even between teenagers, really isn’t very scary.   There are a lot of things we adults could do to make the country and the world less miserable, but spying on our kids isn’t among them.

By Philip Alcabes | November 13th, 2010 | Categories: Behavior, Myths, public health, Risk | Tags: , , , , , , | 1 comment

A Must-Read Book

I urge you to stop what you’re doing and read Rebecca Skloot‘s The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks (Crown, 2010).   It’s a rare combination: clear reporting on how medical science works, insightful consideration of deep moral issues about the uses of human tissue for the advancement of knowledge, and a moving, often troubling, family narrative.

Henrietta Lacks died of cervical cancer in the “colored” ward at Johns Hopkins Hospital, in 1951.  From samples of her cervical tissue, the immortal cell line called HeLa was developed (by Dr. George Gey, at Hopkins).  Skloot’s story covers the family’s travails before and since, but also digs deep into the problem of race in the business of American medicine.  Her account challenges, or should move us to challenge, the smug certainties about our supposedly post-racial society, and the convenient formulae about “informed consent” and “access to care.” I guess I should say, The Immortal Life should make us ask just what “care” means in today’s system.

Henrietta Lacks and her family members were almost never taken seriously as humans with real problems.  First, they were poor and uneducated black people from tobacco country relocated to Baltimore; then, they were the bearers of the same genes as a woman (Henrietta) who had died of a remarkably aggressive, and therefore medically interesting, cancer; later, they were background and local color to the story of the origin of the thriving, and therefore scientifically interesting, HeLa cell line.

To Skloot’s credit, she’s taken to heart, and acted on, the problem:  she founded the Henrietta Lacks Foundation to help raise funds for education and medical expenses for Henrietta Lacks’s family.  Skloot’s blog, Culture Dish, carries updates about some of the achievements of the foundation and sometimes takes up issues germane to the book, especially regarding personal rights to genetic information (here, for instance).

It’s also impressive that Skloot interweaves in her narrative (and takes up more fully and explicitly in an Afterword) the vexing question of ownership of tissue samples.  She highlights how the expanding capacity to extract information from genetic sequencing ups the ante on the questions of privacy of tissue samples — since it’s now possible to ascertain potentially identifying information from genetic sequences even in a sample from which the usual verbal identifiers (name, address, and so forth) have been removed.  And she asks how the profits potentially available from exploitation of new discoveries should be shared.

The intersection of these problems with the matter of race makes The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, like James Jones’s Bad Blood and Harriet Washington’s Medical Apartheid, a book that should be required reading for everyone involved in the health sector today.

By Philip Alcabes | August 20th, 2010 | Categories: books, Ethics, Health Professions, Myths, Narratives, Physicians, science, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , | Comments Off

New Year’s Wishes for Public Health

May 2010 be the year when health officials return to the business of alleviating suffering and stop promoting panic. (Don’t miss Nathalie Rothschild’s “Ten Years of Fear” in Spiked!’s Farewell to the Noughties, recounting the hyped-up panics of the ’00s — from the Y2K bug to swine flu.)

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!”

By Philip Alcabes | January 4th, 2010 | Categories: Behavior, Disease, epidemics, Health Professions, Myths, News, obesity, Outbreaks, public health, Risk | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 comment

Questions on World AIDS Day

Today is World AIDS Day.  After thirty years, 25 million deaths, and countless articles, books, press releases, TV and radio programs, fundraisers, AIDS walks, and messages from Bono  –  there’s still an AIDS Day?  It’s hard to see how any disease could be less in need of a boost to awareness.

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.

By Philip Alcabes | December 1st, 2009 | Categories: Disease, epidemics, Myths, Narratives, public health | Tags: , , , | Comments Off

Medicine and Magic

In his post at The Atlantic yesterday, Abraham Verghese made the case that magical thinking is a powerful driver of debates over health and health care.

“We all want to believe that a pill or potion that comes from sea coral or from the Amazon jungle will cure that pain for which little else has worked,” Verghese writes.  The “flip side,” he says, “is that we are extraordinarily sensitive to any suggestion that someone is taking away something we think is good for our health.”

And magical thinking’s influence isn’t limited to cruising the natural supplements aisle or reading the ads in a health magazine.  Sometimes it’s part of expert opinion — and so it becomes part of widespread belief.

Consider how the flu experts talk about the possibility of swine flu’s return this fall. In Monday’s Washington Post, the experts’ words wax electric.  Dr. William Schaffner, chair of Preventive Medicine at Vanderbilt U.’s medical school, asserts that “The virus is still around and ready to explode…. We’re potentially looking at a very big mess.” And Dr. Arnold Monto, a physician epidemiologist at U. Michigan’s School of Public Health, worries “about our ability to handle a surge of severe cases.”

So, even as H5N1 reports that an article in The Independent finds scientists skeptical as to whether there will be a so-called second wave of serious flu outbreaks in the northern hemisphere this fall, we’ve got American scientists suggesting — in high-voltage terms — that something awful is going to happen.

They’re not wrong: something bad might happen.  That’s always true.

But language matters.  And language coming from so-called experts matters a lot.  It has magic.

Vigorous metaphors promote popular fears.  The last time swine flu came around, in early 1976, respected virologist Edwin Kilbourne published an influential op-ed piece in the NY Times (13 Feb 1976), called “Flu to the Starboard! Man the Harpoons! Fill with Vaccine! Get the Captain! Hurry!” Kilbourne urged officials to prepare for an “imminent natural disaster.” Fair enough:  a serious H1N1 flu might have happened in ’76 (it didn’t) — but his whaling metaphor appealed to more than just preparation.  It was about power and authority (“get the captain!”).  Presumably, the authority of science, industry, and government.

And so with other metaphors that are meant to be calls to arms.  There were the warfare metaphors about the alleged threat of bioterrorism, and the plague metaphors about AIDS.  Now, there are explosive metaphors about obesity.

Last year, acting U.S. Surgeon General Dr. Steven Galson called childhood obesity a “national catastrophe,” for instance.  And Dr. Risa Lavizzo-Mourey, president of the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation, warned of obesity’s “corrosive” effects, which, she asserted, imperil a generation of America’s youth.  According to Dr. Matthew Gillman of Harvard “You build [obesity] up over generations” — like an electrical charge in a capacitor, like explosive potential, the reader has to presume.

Talking about childhood obesity, Dr. Eric Hoffman of Stanford told the Washington Post that “we have taught our children how to kill themselves.”

Invoking metaphors to create magical thinking isn’t just an American habit.  Childhood obesity is a “time bomb,” according to physician Howard Stoate, chair of Britain’s All-Parliamentary Group on Primary Care and Public Health.

Verghese’s right.  People can be afraid to let go of what they believe they need for their health — however magically.  And magical thinking is inside the way our experts talk to us about health.  That sort of magic can run deep.

By Philip Alcabes | August 13th, 2009 | Categories: Disease, Health Professions, Myths, Narratives, obesity, Physicians, public health, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | Comments Off

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