Philip Alcabes discusses myths of health, disease and risk.

Cholera: Problem Solved?

Once again I’m grateful to H5N1 for bringing cholera news to my attention.   This week, epidemiologists from France have presented evidence suggesting that the Haitian cholera outbreak began when the causative bacteria were brought in by Nepalese UN troops.

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.

Nuclear Energy and Risk

Elizabeth Kolbert is a fine science writer.  Her explanations of the complicated mechanisms — geothermal, marine chemical, atmospheric, and so forth — underlying climate change are clear and compelling.

But I confess I’m no fan of her work.  Kolbert’s sky-is-falling! rhetoric is a little too florid, and her criticism of people who don’t act environmentally a little too pointed.

Yet, her short piece in this week’s New Yorker, “The Nuclear Risk,” is terrific.  It’s worth reading.   She gets at a central lesson of the radioactivity crisis that followed on the earthquake + tsunami disaster:  you can only plan for the disasters you’re able to conceive of.  The Japanese catastrophe, she writes

illustrates, so starkly and so tragically, [that] people have a hard time planning for events that they don’t want to imagine happening. But these are precisely the events that must be taken into account in a realistic assessment of risk. We’ve more or less pretended that our nuclear plants are safe, and so far we have got away with it. The Japanese have not.

That the nuclear crisis is supposedly under control now, or might be under control if some new problems are dealt with, doesn’t change the planning problem (and have a look at this blog post by Evan Osnos for a worrying take on what happens to people who are facing such a triplex disaster scenario).

Kolbert relates the problem of nuclear planning in the U.S. to corporate interference with regulatory agencies, quoting the Government Accountability Office’s finding that the Nuclear Regulatory Commission has based its policies

on what the industry considered reasonable and feasible to defend against rather than on an assessment of the terrorist threat itself.

It’s disturbing that industry and regulators are on intimate terms, but it isn’t exactly news — not in regard to energy policy, nor health policy (for example, consider the CDC’s Advisory Committee on Immunization Practices, which I wrote about a year ago).   The comfortable collusion between corporations and government agencies is an issue — but it’s not the most troubling lesson of the Japanese crisis.

Rather, the main event is the inevitability of unforeseen and unforeseeable disasters.  And the simple impossibility of making plans to avoid what can’t be imagined.

Which is where I part company with Kolbert.   Would better planning (or stricter regulation of industry) have avoided the near-catastrophic radioactive release at Daichii?  Yes, perhaps.  But nobody could have foreseen an earthquake of this magnitude, or infrastructure so destabilized by a tsunami as fast-moving and destructive as this one, or the double-punch effect occurring where it did and how it did.  There’s only so much you can plan because there’s only so much you can envisage.

And that’s the problem with the idea of planning to reduce risk.  You plan for what you know. Maybe you plan for something a little worse than what you’ve seen before — but even that is basically what you know, with a little juicing to make it livelier.   Even the pure-fantasy regulatory agency — the one with firewall immunity from influence by industry, perfectly competent engineering of its plans, and state-of-the-art technology — can’t foresee every eventuality.  Therefore, even the best planning won’t eliminate risk.

In the end, the question isn’t just how to keep the energy industry away from the regulators.   It’s how to live in a universe that isn’t completely predictable, no matter how good you think your “science” is.   And is ruled by random, implacable, and sometimes highly destructive nature.

Vaccines & Autism: News?

Fascinating.  You can’t look at a newspaper or news feed without seeing today’s AP story on the finding of fraud in Andrew Wakefield’s vaccine-autism study.  CNN is into this story in a big wayHuffington Post ran the AP report.  Amanda Gardner at HealthDay picked it up, which means it will go into further syndication.  I can’t help wondering why it’s so important to put another nail in Wakefield’s professional coffin.

Or is it the vaccine-autism connection that’s supposedly being interred?

Probably both.

The BMJ opened the proceedings this week by publishing journalist Brian Deer’s investigative piece on the original Wakefield study of MMR vaccine and autism (Wakefield’s study was published in Lancet in February 1998).   That report had already been repudiated by Wakefield’s coauthors, and retracted in 2010 by the Lancet‘s editors after investigation of Wakefield’s procedures.  Wakefield is no longer allowed to practice medicine in the UK.   The Deer article was a parting shot.

An accompanying editorial by Fiona Godlee, Jane Smith, and Harvey Marcovitch, BMJ editors, was a well-taken and circumspect attempt at restoring confidence in measles immunization — on which, in their view, the work of Wakefield and colleagues had cast a shadow.  The editors might not be right in blaming the 1998 Wakefield study for contemporary parents’ reluctance to get their kids immunized, but their aim is to make a reasonable, if arguable, public health point.   To my reading, they haven’t got much of an axe to grind.

But then the whetstones began to turn.  Jonathan Adler at Volokh cheers, wondering if now the “vaccine-autism charade” will end.  Nick Gillespie is also celebratory, albeit more sedately, at Reason‘s blog.   

At Age of Autism, John Stone tries to undermine the journalist (Deer) who wrote the fraud story.  Stone is so rabid, and so ad hominem, in his attempts to destroy Deer that he manages to touch on not a single one of the reasons why it remains impossible to rule out a link between vaccines and autism.   Elsewhere at AofA, the UK group CryShame’s response is published; it too focuses on Deer’s methods, not the substance.

Evidently, substance is nobody’s concern here.  It’s about how news gets made.  Gary Schwitzer, a really sharp observer of the journalism scene, notes that journalists made Wakefield’s reports newsworthy back in their day, and are now “playing a key role in uncovering and dismantling” the story.

The vaccine-autism connection is news because it continues to get everyone riled up.

The defenders of vaccination (to judge by their vigorous celebration every time some further insult is visited on Andrew Wakefield) keep hoping that the suspicions of such a connection will go away.

The skeptics about governments’ medical policing of private lives invoke the possibility that vaccines are associated with a really high profile Bad Thing — like autism — to further their case.

The people who are crying out for an explanation for why so many kids function autistically remain unsatisfied.  (It’s not hard to see why they can’t get satisfaction:  policy makers, invested in mass immunization, don’t want to do the studies that would really find out whether or not the multiple vaccinations that kids are supposed to undergo today might be related to neurological changes.)

Of course, all of that has to do with the substance of the problem.  And what we’re seeing here, with Wakefield, with the revocation of his medical license last year, with this week’s fraud charge, and so on, isn’t substance at all.  It’s gloating or it’s grumbling.  Really, it’s not new.  But it’s news.

NYC: Unethical Research by Bloomberg Administration

I had missed this story when the NY Daily News broke it in September, but  the front page of today’s NY Times made it impossible to ignore:  Mayor Mike Bloomberg’s administration is conducting unethical experimentation on human beings.

The News describes the experiment very simply:

[New York City's] Department of Homeless Services split 400 struggling families into haves and have-nots.

The “haves” get rental assistance, job training and other services through a program called Homebase.

The other half … were dubbed the “control group” and shut out of Homebase for two years. Instead, they were handed a list of 11 agencies and told to hunt for help on their own.

The aim of the experiment, allegedly, is to find out whether Homebase, a $23 million program, is effective.  The city’s Commissioner of Homeless Services told the Times that

When you’re making decisions about millions of dollars and thousands of people’s lives, you have to do this on data, and that is what this is about.

(If you thought that what it’s about, for a commissioner meant to deal with homelessness, is making sure that people have homes — you were so wrong.  Silly you.)

To make matters worse: what’s being tested is a program whose effectiveness the city has already asserted. As Mike, who blogs brilliantly on this and many related topics at SLO Homeless, notes:  the 2010 Mayor’s Management Report, issued in September, claimed that Homebase helped “ninety percent of clients in all populations receiving prevention services to stay in their communities and avoid shelter entry.”

So, to make sure this is clear:  New York City is deliberately denying a couple of hundred families access to an existing homelessness-prevention program that it has already declared to be highly effective.

The scenario is identical to one that kicked up storms of controversy in the medical-research world in the 1990s (neatly contextualized and summarized here):   experiments were conducted in Africa and southeast Asia supposedly to test the effectiveness  of an already-proven preventive regimen, AZT.  Administered during pregnancy, it reduced the likelihood of mother-to-fetus or mother-to-infant transmission of HIV.  In the poor-country experiments, half of the women enrolled got the effective regimen; the other half got placebo.

In other words, if you were pregnant and infected with HIV and you had had the wisdom to live in the U.S., you got a treatment that protected your infant from infection.  If you lived in a poor country you got:  studied.

There’s something about poor people, and especially about poor women with kids, that seems to make them smell like catnip to the always evidence-hungry technocrat cats.

Want to run a placebo-controlled trial?  Find something that already works (antiretrovirals, homelessness prevention, or, in other circumstances, syphilis treatment, TB prevention, etc.), then find a few women with kids who need it — then tell them you’ll flip a coin.  Heads, they get what they need; tails… well, too bad.

I’m a scientist.  I believe that evidence can be helpful.  Sometimes, it’s crucial.  When you’re truly unsure whether to pick prevention A or prevention B, data can help you to choose right and avoid harm.  That’s the great promise of science.

But sometimes the appeal to evidence is baleful — like here in Bloomberg’s New York, where evidence on homelessness is just a way of furthering the aims of the technocracy.  Which always means that some people will avoid harm.  Others will pay the price.

And the others are, so often, poor women with children.

Mitochondrial Dysfunction: Biologizing Autistic Behavior

Marx famously opined that social phenomena — world-historic events, he called them — occur first as tragedy, then as farce.  That was in 1852.

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.