Philip Alcabes discusses myths of health, disease and risk.

Revolving door? Official agencies and the private sector

In late December, Effect Measure reacted to former CDC director Dr. Julie Gerberding’s hiring as President of Merck Vaccines. With customary cogency and insight, Revere addresses the problem of the so-called Revolving Door.

At The Great Beyond, Daniel Cressey notes that Dr. Gerberding, while at CDC, was accused of promoting the Bush Administration’s agendas at the cost of scientific accuracy.  Naturally, now that she is heading for Merck, many are concerned about what looks like a cozy relationship between official agencies and pharmaceutical companies.

Merck says that its vaccine arm is worth $5 billion.  It “markets vaccines for 12 of the 17 diseases for which the U.S. Advisory Committee for Immunization Practices currently recommends vaccines,” according to the company’s press release.

Dr. Gerberding was close to the vaccine world as head of CDC. In fact, during her tenure there CDC’s   Advisory Committee on Immunization Practices (ACIP) called for the implementation of immunization against human papillomavirus and varicella zoster (chicken pox) virus and the agency pushed for expanded immunization against seasonal flu; within 10 months of her (January ’09) departure from CDC, the ACIP had issued recommendations for the use of anthrax vaccine and Cervarix and Gardasil vaccines against HPV.  Gardasil  is a Merck product.

But the problem is more than the “revolving door” metaphor implies.  To have a door there must be a wall — a clear demarcation between inside and out.   As if corporations (pharmaceutical companies among them) were outside of the official system, eager to get the ear of those inside.

Whereas it seems that there isn’t really much of a wall between official health agencies and big business at all.  To be an official today means taking a veritable oath of loyalty to corporate solutions.  The official has to deal in risk.  She has to be ready to sell risk as a kind of debt:  people should want to avoid risk, just as they avoid debt; but if their behaviors put them “at risk,” they can relieve it through “lifestyle” correction.  You can refinance if you know how.

The correction that allegedly relieves risk usually involves the use of better products. Cut out trans fats,  lower your cholesterol, elevate your mood, hop on a treadmill, lose weight, drink responsibly, get seasonal flu vaccine, get swine flu vaccine, wait patiently while the full-body scanners are used at the airport, eat more vegetables, wear sunblock, use hand sanitizer.  Health officials’ job is to get the means for personal risk reduction to the sorry at-risk population.  Have hand-sanitizer dispensers installed in public buildings.  Distribute condoms.  Publish recipes for healthy meals.

Notably, health officials are not supposed to argue for any of the things that would actually make a difference to the public’s overall health:  redress wealth disparities, provide excellent primary care for everyone (including immigrants), or build more decent and affordable housing.  When was the last time you heard a health official call for a campaign against poverty?

The official has to pitch personal risk reduction, in other words.  She has to be ready to support high-cost, individualized approaches to improving the public’s health — or well-being, which, Dr. Michael Fitzpatrick astutely notes at Spiked!, has replaced health as the main objective of modern Good Works .

Health officials keep faith with the dogma of risk avoidance.  Corporations preach risk reduction and peddle the wares by which people can restructure their lives — and avoid risk.  The wall separating government policy makers from corporate solutions gets more and more flimsy.

The Preacher at CDC

Just weeks into his tenure as CDC Director, Dr. Thomas Frieden is already preaching moral improvement to the American public.

Yesterday, according to an Associate Press report, Frieden sermonized that “obesity and … diabetes are the only major health problems that are getting worse in this country, and they’re getting worse rapidly.”  Now, Dr. Frieden heads the agency that collects data on illness and calculates disease rates; presumably, he knows that many conditions are either increasing now or have risen to high levels from which they have not retreated — MRSA, Lyme disease, injuries in certain occupations, and foodborne illness, to name just a few.

But as Dr. Frieden’s campaigns in New York City against trans fats, unprotected sex, and TB sufferers who didn’t take their meds  revealed, when there is a moral battle to be fought the facts just get in the way.

The impetus for yesterday’s obesity sermon was a study by investigators at RTI who had determined that “obesity-related diseases” account for over 9 percent of U.S. healthcare costs.  Most people who suffer from most of the so-called obesity related conditions are not actually obese.  Even diabetes, the one most commonly associated with obesity in the popular mind (and, apparently, Dr. Frieden’s) occurs more often among people who are not and have never been obese than it does among those who are obese.  So the study was really showing that obesity accounts for much less than 9 percent of healthcare costs.

But that wasn’t the only problem.  While the RTI study found that obese people spend 40 percent more than comparison “normal” people on health, most of the increase in spending was related to pharmaceuticals.  So one might ask if it was obesity that was increasing expenditures, or the price of certain drugs.

Furthermore, there’s no way to know whether being fat was causing the obesity group in this study to be sick in ways that cost more money, or if they were fat because they were unwell in the first place.

In fact, the study wasn’t designed to test whether becoming obese led to an increase in medical expenditure — which might have shed some light on the question of whether obesity causes higher costs.  Many people in the study had no  expenditures at all for certain types of healthcare costs.  But the researchers weren’t interested in finding out whether obesity sometimes costs nothing at all, so they used an adjustment technique to allow them to relate obesity to predicted expenditures.

Finally, the estimate of percentage of total healthcare costs attributed to obesity-related expenditure was based on the assumption that obese people who return to “normal” weight suffer no consequences of their weight loss — an assumption that is well known to be false.

So it’s a falsehood to state on the basis of the RTI findings that obesity is accounting for a tenth of American healthcare costs — although AP, Reuters, and other media outlets so claimed in covering the Frieden sermon.

In fact, a lucid assessment of the findings would ask why, if obesity is supposedly up 37% among Americans and if two-thirds of Americans are now overweight or obese, obesity would account for only 9% of costs?  Surely if obesity is so bad, increasing its prevalence by more than a third would be swamping the healthcare industry with fat people.

But the whole appeal of a sermon is that it isn’t based on fact or lucid assessment of the present reality. It’s based on suppositions about the future with a steadfast moral foundation.  Frieden has the supposition and he has the moralism.  His religion is that it’s up to the “community” to perfect itself.

As Shirley Wang at WSJ Health Blog reports,  Dr. Frieden believes that  increasing availability and decreasing price of healthy foods, while decreasing availability and increasing  price of unhealthy ones, “is likely to be effective.” He claims that the decision to adopt such a strategy “is a political one.”

But of course it isn’t political in its essence; it’s moral.  When the community is told to perfect itself it rises to the occasion by looking to the usual moral suspects:  women, especially pregnant women or mothers; the uneducated; the poor.  Last fall, Frank Furedi discussed the moral underpinnings of British authorities’ removal of fat children from their parents’ homes.  And we can hope he’ll have something to say about what’s happening in the U.S., where the community policing can be even worse:  a few days ago, a South Carolina mother was arrested and charged with neglect for having a son who weighs over 500 pounds.  Other states have contemplated other methods of dealing with parents who violate the community standards of parenting.  Not by hitting their kids, starving them, or forcing them to work — but by allowing them to get fat.

Obesity is offensive, it seems, in just the way that sexual license and intemperance with alcohol have been found offensive by some.  And just as the problem with sex and drinking has been found in the environment — in “peer pressure,” the “latchkey phenomenon,” TV advertising, Hollywood, and the decline in “family values” — so it is with obesity.  “We did not get to this situation … because of any change in our genetics or any change in our food preferences,” Frieden adumbrated.  “We got to this stage of the epidemic because of a change in our environment and only a change in our environment again will allow us to get back to a healthier place,”

It isn’t obvious what to do when appetites produce offense — so it’s handy to claim that the environment is at fault and then to hand the problem to public health.  Because for certain health officials, it’s always clear what to do:  Take the moral high path, clean up the offending elements, urge the community to police itself better.  If more parents are arrested… well, perfection has its price.

Iconography of Risk

For some time now, watching a ballgame on TV has meant sitting through sappy commercials that advertise remedies for what we’re supposed to call “erectile dysfunction.”  This season, at least in New York, the baseball viewer who isn’t quick with the remote will be treated to gruesome negative advertising about smoking.  If you’re squeamish, you have to move fast to avoid staring at the inside of arteries, hands with amputated fingers, or throats with holes in them.

This week, the city’s health department announces that it wants to require thousands of retailers who sell tobacco products to put up posters with the same disgust-inducing images – as Jennifer 8. Lee noted at the Times‘s City Room blog on Wednesday and an AP story (picked up by Newsday) explained on Thursday.

And it won’t be little stickers the stores are required to put up:  these posters would have to be at least a foot-and-a-half square.

It looks like the city’s health agency is going to continue its program of treating New Yorkers like we’re stupid and reckless, despite the departure of the bluenose Dr. Thomas Frieden (who left NYC to become CDC Director this month).  The prevailing view at the health department seems to be that officials have to keep sermonizing or we dumb slobs will slide back into bad habits.

As Jan Barrett noted Thursday, people who smoke nowadays know quite well what they’re doing, and why.

Barrett, an ex-smoker, notes that “every time I lit up a cigarette I was fully aware of what it was doing to my body. I mean how can any smoker not know these days what smoking can do to them? There are warning signs everywhere. I don’t care how many warning signs I saw or heard about I still lit that cigarette every morning.”

The health department claims that negative advertising will help convince smokers they should quit. But smokers don’t need to be convinced — about 70% of smokers have tried to quit, and (as the above comment exemplifies) some of those who don’t quit are aware of the dangers but smoke anyway.

The department also claims the gruesome-ad campaign will dissuade teens from taking up smoking to begin with.  But retail stores wouldn’t be the place to post the ads, then – since the shops aren’t permitted to sell to minors in any case (nor would TV: if it were teenagers who were watching baseball games, there wouldn’t be so many Viagra ads).

We might think that resorting to a signage campaign like this is a cover-up for inactivity, but it isn’t:  the health department already runs a vigorous program of smoking-cessation activities , which can include nicotine-replacement therapies.

No, the new gruesome-poster initiative isn’t about health; it’s closer to religion.  The images of smoking-induced damage are iconography.

Frank Furedi calls this sort of thing secular moral entrepreneurship.

The iconography of the religion of risk avoidance is meant to remind sinners – people who eat the wrong foods, don’t exercise enough, have sex without condoms, fail to take medication for our depression, or smoke cigarettes — that it might be rigorous to follow the True Faith of Health, but it’s worth it.  “Look at how others have suffered in order to learn what you now know,” they say.  “How can you go on with your nasty ways when you’ve got a chance to save yourself?”

The city’s new health commissioner, Dr. Thomas Farley, is apparently as ardent as Frieden about browbeating and hectoring people who fail to comply with health guidelines.  The television advertising and the signage isn’t meant to make the population healthier – its job is to remind us how to behave, and the consequences of impropriety.