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.

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

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

Here’s how EP-ology assesses the agency:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

Recently, Paul Sax reported at The Body on a plan to issue guidelines on the use of pre-exposure HIV prophylaxis (PrEP) using a combination of antiretroviral drugs, announced in the January 28 issue of CDC’s Morbidity and Mortality Weekly Report. The effect of issuing guidelines is to endorse the procedure, which will help enrich pharmaceutical companies — the first being Gilead, which makes Truvada (combination of tenofovir + emtricitabine).

Here’s the CDC’s rationale for issuing interim guidelines now, with formal guidelines to follow:

CDC and other U.S. Public Health Service (PHS) agencies have begun to develop PHS guidelines on the use of PrEP for MSM at high risk for HIV acquisition in the United States as part of a comprehensive set of HIV prevention services…  [W]ithout early guidance, various unsafe and potentially less effective PrEP-related practices could develop among health-care providers and MSM … [including]

1) use of other antiretrovirals than those so far proven safe for uninfected persons;

2) use of dosing schedules of unproven efficacy;

3) not screening for acute infection before beginning PrEP or long intervals without retesting for HIV infection; and

4) providing prescriptions without other HIV prevention support (e.g., condom access and risk-reduction counseling).

Translation:  if  CDC or another USPHS agency doesn’t do something now, homosexual men might not buy  as much medication as they could.

What’s the impetus for this guidance?   Results of the iPrEx study, which was supported by the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases at NIH, were published in the New England Journal of Medicine in December.  The study purported to show a 44% reduction in HIV incidence among men who had sex with men who were taking Truvada prior to sexual exposure.  But the study was so deeply flawed, and the authors so cagey about their methods, that it’s  impossible to conclude that Truvada makes any difference to the chances of acquiring HIV.

As the iPrEx trial’s logo implies

iPrEx

it was multinational, involving almost 2500 HIV-negative people who were male (at birth) and adjudged to be at high risk of acquiring HIV because of their pattern of sexual activity.  It involved sites in Peru, Brazil, Ecuador, South Africa, Thailand, and the U.S. The comparison was between subjects taking Truvada and subjects taking a placebo.

The famous 44% reduction, however, was clearly not obtained in each site — and the authors don’t state which sites showed more effect.  More importantly, the reduced HIV incidence among those taking Truvada occurred only for a small subset of subjects who stayed on the drug for more than a year without becoming infected.  And it only lasted for about one additional year.

In other words, in the iPrEx study, people who took Truvada and remained HIV-negative for a year were slightly less likely to acquire HIV in the following year than were those who took placebo and remained HIV-negative.

Finally, even the small, second-year-only effect of Truvada is of questionable use to men in the U.S.  Because the study was based on men living in places with extremely HIV prevalences — higher than those in much of the U.S. — and involved men having a large number of partners, it provided essentially no evidence for any utility in the U.S.

As other trials of pre-exposure chemoprophylaxis are going on now, other companies’ products are likely to be included in the final version of the CDC guidelines.  So more corporations can benefit from the largesse of the Public Health Service.

Condoms are very effective at interrupting HIV transmission.  Obviously, you have to use them (properly) in order to benefit from that effect.  Because people don’t like them very much, condom promotion is a poor public-health strategy.

But as a matter of guidance for men who have sex with men, in what way is it better for the USPHS to suggest Truvada, which has to be used consistently even when you’re not having sex, probably won’t take effect for a year or so, and even then will only give you a minor reduction in the chances of acquiring HIV — rather than condoms?

Answer:  it is if you’re trying to promote profits for the pharmaceutical industry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mosquitoes are much more worrisome than bed bugs.

What is the value of mass immunization of children against flu?

CDC claims that flu is dangerous for children and recommends immunization.  This claim seems to be based on the 50 to 150 pediatric deaths attributed to flu each year.  Preventing children’s deaths is a good reason to immunize those who might get very sick were they to be exposed to influenza.

But to translate a small number of possibly preventable deaths into a national policy of mass immunization?  That takes a special relationship with the vaccine manufacturers (see here and here and here and here for my comments on the collusion of officials with pharmaceutical interests).

The evidence that flu vaccine is effective in children is shaky, as Dr. Tom Jefferson’s exhaustive scrutiny of study data reveals.  Immunization of children seems to be weakly effective at reducing influenza-like illnesses in a general population, as Ritzwoller et al. showed in a study published in Pediatrics in 2005.  Partial immunization was ineffective — an issue worth considering if more than a single dose is required.

A few studies suggest that mass immunization of children is a way to prevent flu among young adults.

A community trial of immunization of children against flu, published in Vaccine in 2005, showed the ineffectiveness of immunizing children:  there was no reduction in acute respiratory illnesses among children in the concurrent or subsequent flu seasons, compared to communities where kids were not immunized.  There were slight reductions in ARI incidences among adults in the community where children were immunized — but this study wasn’t designed to show whether it was the immunizing of kids that protected the adults, or something else.

Similarly, a 2000 study published in JAMA by Hurwitz et al. showed that flu immunization of children in day care had the effect of reducing acute febrile illnesses among household contacts, compared to household contacts of daycare attenders who were not immunized (abstract here, full article requires subscription).  So immunizing children in daycare might help their parents to avoid getting sick.

In general, there’s suggestive evidence that mass immunization of small children against flu lessens the impact of flu outbreaks among young adults.

But few young adults die of flu.  It’s an annoying and sometimes serious illness.  The reason the public health authorities are interested in preventing flu among young adults isn’t to reduce suffering; it’s to keep them from staying out of work.  Should we immunize children so that the nation’s economic machine doesn’t slow down?

To put it a little differently:  should we shift large amounts of taxpayer money into the hands of pharmaceutical and vaccine manufacturers for the purchase of flu vaccine for children, basically in order to spare employers the loss in profits that would arise when workers stay home?

The news from ProPublica this week, that they and associated journalists found many cases of physicians taking money from big pharmaceutical companies, is alarming but comes as no surprise.  ProPublica’s new searchable database shows that the seven pharmaceutical companies (collectively accounting for 36% of market share) that provided data together made $257.8 million in payments to physicians.

What’s more alarming is that pharmaceutical companies often don’t even have to bother paying to push their products.  That’s especially true when the product is a vaccine.  Even flu vaccine, despite its limited and highly variable effectiveness.  Policy decisions made by the Advisory Committee on Immunization Practices and CDC, practice decisions by medical organizations, research-grant funding, and so on are thoroughly organized around immunization.  Despite the evidence.

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.

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.

The anti-tobacco crusade is a modern-day version of Revivalist religious fervor.  It sure isn’t science.  And it isn’t about protecting people’s health.

The CDC estimates that 442,000 Americans die from tobacco smoking each year.  These estimates are slippery; they’re based on a fairly loose definition of what it means to die “from” a behavior — but let’s agree that a lot of people die sooner than they otherwise would because they smoke cigarettes.

Alternative ways of self-administering nicotine allow users to avoid the disastrously harmful drug-delivery device, the cigarette.  You’d think that Big Public Health, 45 years into a campaign to get people to stop smoking, would be promoting all sorts of safe methods of nicotine delivery.

That’s not what happens.  Instead, the industry pours anathema on light cigarettes, smokeless tobacco, and other safer-than-cigarettes products.

The latest sermon is an article in this month’s The Nation’s Health — the newsletter of the American Public Health Association (APHA, which has turned into the High Synod of Public Health Religion).  The article  claims that “New Types of Smokeless Tobacco Present Growing Risks for Youth.”

The title is a double rhetorical turn now (alas) typical of APHA:  (1) your kids are going to die, and (2) the “risk” to them is increasing.  The piece would seem silly if the author, named Kim Krisberg, weren’t so serious.  After all, it isn’t kids who die from smoking, and the risk of smoking-related death isn’t increasing at all.  But we’re not in the realm of truth here.

Since Big Public Health isn’t dealing in truth when it comes to tobacco, evidence isn’t part of the story.   The head of the Campaign for Tobacco-Free Kids can say “the time to stop the spread of dangerous products is before they become the fad of today,” insouciantly sidestepping the fact that smokeless tobacco products aren’t dangerous.  Brad Rodu’s invaluable website Tobacco Truth explains — see Brad’s June 16th post, for instance.  Or go to this page at the excellent resource TobaccoHarmReduction, or see this article published in Cancer Epidemiology, Biomarkers & Prevention in 2004.

The public health industry’s animus for tobacco leads it to label as harmful something that is really a boon to public health — the increasing use of products that provide nicotine without burning tobacco.  Surely it’s better to have people chewing nicotine-containing products that won’t harm them than to allow them to continue smoking tobacco in order to get a nicotine dose.

Moralistic fervor makes you stupid.  Stupid enough to write, as two physicians with FDA’s Center for Tobacco Products did,

As state and local communities across the United States adopt indoor clean-air laws that restrict smoking in public areas and workplaces, the tobacco industry seems increasingly focused on the development and introduction of novel smokeless tobacco products

… as if the tobacco industry were magically making Americans who would otherwise stop smoking suddenly crave smokeless tobacco — and as if that would be bad for them.  Drs. Deyton and Cruz, you should know better.

But Matthew Myer with Tobacco-Free Kids isn’t unintelligent.  Nor, I assume, are Deyton and Cruz.  And I can’t imagine they really want people to suffer.

Still, do they really think that safe non-smoked tobacco products are going to bewitch our kids?  Do they believe that apocalypse comes in a package of smokeless tobacco?

Are they just so obsessed with battling tobacco companies that they’ve lost sight of the aim of public health, i.e., to reduce suffering?

Or is it simpler?  Has the public health industry’s big-money anti-tobacco campaign allowed too many people to make too good a living by saying stupid things about tobacco?

The cigarette manufacturers have been scurrilous, dastardly, and sometimes appallingly inured to the misery and death their products have hastened.  Maybe they deserve the Myerses of the world.

But the public health industry could be a lot more focused on helping people to live less painful lives, and less obsessed with its private demons.

As Carl V. Phillips suggests in a post this week, the FDA will have to break with the public health industry’s moralism if people who use nicotine are going to protect themselves from cigarettes.

If the FDA can’t overcome Big Public Health’s obsession with satanic tobacco rituals, re-introduce truth into the discussion, and re-focus on making real people’s lives less miserable, the zealots are going to turn stupidity into bad policy.

But this AP article grabbed me.  According to New York City, over 6 percent of residents who responded to a community health survey claimed to have dealt with bedbugs in the past year.  In response, the city will withhold half-million dollars normally budgeted for the city’s health department  and redirect the funds to an anti-bedbug campaign.

Some might argue that the $500,000 would be better used for preventing deadly illnesses and accidents, not just bug bites.  Still, the campaign seems right.  According to the AP story, environmental health people will work with a “top entomologist.” (Professionals collaborating across sectors:  One City, One Health.  Good.)  A note by Javier Hernandez at the NY Times‘s City Room blog is guarded, but some (like Molly Fischer at the NY Observer) seem relieved that there will be a big anti-bedbug crusade at last.

Not a very big crusade, but at least a multifaceted one, as the Bed Bug Advisory Board’s Report suggests.

Actually, there are two contests, divided by age:

• Kids Read Science (http://www.kidsreadscience.org) is aimed towards kids ages 8-12.
• Teens Read Science (http://www.teensreadscience.org) is aimed towards young adults ages 13-18.

Click here for Joanne’s promotional video and here for a list of authors supporting the project.

Grown-ups make such a mess when they can’t, or won’t, understand straightforward chemistry and physics — worsening the Gulf of Mexico situation, for instance, by failing to learn how to do the cleanup while keeping workers safe, as ProPublica has been reporting lately and The Pump Handle follows assiduously.  So  it’s impossible to overstate the importance of kids’ learning to understand how to read science.

In regard to reading science, The American Scholar just published a thought-provoking essay by nobel-laureate physicist Robert B. Laughlin.  The article ponders geologic time from a scientist’s standpoint — and makes a crucial distinction between what we really cannot know about the earth’s future and what the rising costs (financial, environmental, human) of energy make us fear.

Laughlin writes

The geologic record as we know it thus suggests that climate is a profoundly grander thing than energy. Energy procurement is a matter of engineering and keeping the lights on under circumstances that are likely to get more difficult as time progresses. Climate change, by contrast, is a matter of geologic time, something that the earth routinely does on its own without asking anyone’s permission or explaining itself.

I suppose Laughlin will take a lot of flak from people who are sure that “the science” allows them to predict that the earth will be irrevocably ruined, and human civilization irretrievably altered (if not demolished), by manmade climate change. But it’s refreshing when a scientist can acknowledge that humans do bad things to the environment but still refuse to join the sky-is-falling brigade.

There are lots of reasons to curtail the damage that humans do to the physical environment and to preserve biodiversity.  But having a crystal-clear view of just what will happen if the carbon dioxide concentration stays above 350 ppm — islands disappearing and so forth — shouldn’t be one of them.

Science is good at explaining the world, but about the future it is best for telling us what we don’t know (and what questions to ask).

A little more awareness of what we don’t know, and a lot more humility in the face of ignorance, might have gone a long way toward protecting the Gulf of Mexico.  Too late for that.

So Brava! to Joanne, Bravo! to Jeff, for furthering the project of teaching the next generation to use science better.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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?

And there has been new talk about the usual issues:  The  perpetual vexation about tenure.  The problem of safety on campuses.   The question, now customary, of whether a shooter’s  writing offers any clues to her or his psyche.

But there hasn’t been much discussion about the victims.  Two of the three who were killed, Maria Ragland Davis and Adriel D. Johnson, Sr., were African American professors.  All three of the deceased — the other, Prof. Gopi Podila, was department chair — were known for their support of students, according to obituaries published by the Chronicle of Higher Education.   This in itself is both laudable and rare enough, in a field increasingly driven by the quest for research grants, to deserve mention.  But the sudden death of two science professors who were themselves black Americans and who devoted themselves to educating black students in the sciences is a particularly profound loss to higher education.

That Dr. Ragland Davis was a black woman, one of the rarest of beings in the scientific professoriate, makes the loss particularly poignant.

Statistics are no solace, of course.  But the silence about the loss of two black American professors who died by gunfire is part of the greater, even more stunning, silence about the great many black Americans who die by gunfire every year.

In 2006, the last year for which complete data have been posted by the National Center for Health Statistics (see table 18), 30,896 Americans died by gunshot.  Almost half, 12,791, were murders.  That’s 35 firearm murders per day, on average.   About one every 40 minutes.

Black Americans are over twice as likely to die by gunshot than are white Americans (see table 19 at the link above).  The gunshot death rates are roughly 22 deaths per 100,000 per year and roughly 9 per 100,000 per year, respectively.  Those risks have been remarkably constant, even as deaths from Americans’ main form of deadly mishap, vehicle crashes, have declined.

This is not a plea for gun control.  Better gun control laws would allow a lot of people to live longer, and improve the public’s health — but we hear such pleas every time  a multiple shooting makes the news.  That’s not the point here.

The point is the problem of giving chances to people who haven’t had them.  Or, to put it more bluntly, the point is race.

In particular, the impossibility, still, of talking about how science should be done by people who have not historically been included in shaping it and defining it.  By people other than the ones who, at least until recently, made all the decisions about what’s worth studying and what’s worth changing.  By women, by black Americans, by people who grew up poor, by people who did not attend elite universities on the east coast or in California.

Universities — the elite ones and the many non-elite ones — are indispensable in the endeavor to change science, for all sorts of reasons.  Maybe the best reason is the presence of professors who support and encourage students who aren’t drawn from the usual class of people.

The deaths at UAH should be an occasion for great mourning, not only for professors who died doing their work, but for the project of changing science.  If the silence over the Huntsville victims were the silence of grief, it wouldn’t seem so bad.  But I think it’s the silence of not really caring, or of not wanting to face a shameful truth.  Compared to talking about the links among race, science, and education… well, it’s less taxing to wonder about the shooter’s unpublished novel.

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.