Philip Alcabes discusses myths of health, disease and risk.

Public Health: Childhood is a Dangerous Place

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

US Government VD Poster, ca. 1940

Source: U. of Minnesota, Social Welfare History Archives

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

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

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

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

Putting Obesity in Perspective

Michael Pollan’s essay in this week’s NY Review of Books offers a framework for looking at modern food and eating.  If public health advocates took Pollan’s perspective, the vitriol of their anti-obesity crusade could turn into a force for real social reform.

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.

By Philip Alcabes | May 26th, 2010 | Categories: Behavior, epidemics, Health Professions, Narratives, obesity, public health, Risk, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , | 2 comments

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.

By Philip Alcabes | January 1st, 2010 | Categories: Ethics, Health Professions, public health, Risk | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 3 comments

The Anti-Obesity Crusade Invades Academia

The Chronicle of Higher Education reports that students at Lincoln U. in Pennsylvania can now be required to take a physical exercise course (“Fitness for Life”) if they have a body-mass index above 30.  The chairman of the college’s Department of Health, Physical Education, and Recreation pointed out that he sees a responsibility to address the “obesity epidemic.”

Nutty, but not so terrible, perhaps.  The policy is a transparent attempt by a not-so-wealthy university to seem au courant and curry favor with donors, who might like the idea that the school is addressing obesity — which the public health industry keeps insisting is a terrible problem facing young people.

Really, the obese-student policy at Lincoln doesn’t demand much.  Some students have to work out for a few hours a week (it’s a 1-credit course).  Not how they want to spend their time, probably pointless in terms of their health, but not the end of the world.

But pay attention to the commentary.

The director of another university’s center on higher-education law and policy voices concern — not over Lincoln’s feeble gesture at controlling fatness , but over medical confidentiality.  “Being put in a class with other ‘at-risk’ BMI’s walks a little close to disclosure,” he told the Chronicle.

The implication here is that obesity is an illness, and therefore only a physician should be allowed to know that you have it.  Certainly, your classmates shouldn’t.

How can obesity, of all things, be thought of as a secret that would only be revealed if you got into gym shorts and showed up on the treadmill in the fat-students’ class?

There’s a clue in the use of the term “at risk”:  obesity is like sleeping around without using condoms, driving drunk, or smoking near your kids  — it’s supposed to be both dangerous and shameful.  You would only admit being “at risk” to your doctor (who would, we have to assume, dutifully dissuade you from following your naughty instincts).

At the NYT blog The Choice, Rebecca Ruiz notes that the Lincoln faculty will be discussing the problem tomorrow.  So far, there’s been plenty of skepticism there, but a few defenders of the fat-class policy.  And most of the comments responding to Ruiz have been supportive of the idea that a university might require physical exercise.

What isn’t getting mentioned is race.  Is the policy popular because Lincoln is one of only two HBCUs in Pennsylvania, and some of the much-discussed “adverse outcomes” of obesity are conditions that are common among African Americans?  Do people feel  relieved that a predominantly African-American university is addressing a problem that seems somehow racial?  Do we feel reassured that a college that  doesn’t serve America’s traditional wealthy elite is taking on a problem that seems to be a threat to the elite — and a threat that seems born of the bad habits of the poor, especially the dark-and-poor?

Obesity is more common among people who identify themselves as African Americans — even at colleges, as a recently published study showed.  Here, and worldwide, obesity is mostly a problem of poverty.

Doesn’t obesity’s taint stem, at least partly, from the way it reminds Americans of poor people — and the dark-skinned poor in particular?

By Philip Alcabes | December 3rd, 2009 | Categories: Behavior, epidemics, obesity, public health, Risk | Tags: , , , , , , | Comments Off on The Anti-Obesity Crusade Invades Academia

Obesity and Public Health Control

This month’s American Journal of Public Health brings us a primer (abstract here; subscription required for full text), written by lawyers supported by the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation, teaching “policymakers to avoid potential constitutional problems in the formation of obesity prevention policy.”

The article isn’t exactly a Steal This Book for the anti-obesity crusaders, but the authors’ stated aim is to help those crusaders skirt legal challenges to statutes that might, for instance, ban fast foods or require the posting of accurate calorie counts on restaurant menus:  “This primer is meant not to deter obesity prevention efforts but to foster them,” the authors adumbrate.

Of course, the anti-obesity crusade is well on its way to using the law to tighten the control of behavior already.  And the failure of restaurant calorie counts to show any effect on eating patterns isn’t dampening enthusiasm, it seems.

Brian Elbel of NYU and colleagues just reported in Health Affairs that the calorie counts now posted by law in New York (another piece of legislation backed by our bluenose mayor) don’t affect how much people eat,  based on a study of over a thousand New Yorkers from minority neighborhoods (abstract here, full article here).  At Freakonomics, Stephen Dubner surmises that this sort of program only helps people “who are already the most vigilant about their health and well-being.”  But it’s hard to find anyone in public health who is opposed.

They should be.   The public health industry, which likes to claim its main interest is human dignity, should be lobbying for less regulation of human appetites, not more.

But public health is often the pre-eminent paradigm of control in our society. Rename the acts or traits you find morally repugnant as diseases, and you can hand them to the health sector for management.   Once you say you’ve got an epidemic on your hands, you can count on the public health industry to respond.  Alcoholism, addiction, smoking, obesity, social anxiety… there seems to be a big supply of epidemics that used to be moral offenses or threats to the social order and are now opportunities for your doctor or your health commissioner — not your clergyman — to tell you how to act.

The neat thing about the control exercised through public health is that you never have to sermonize, read Bible verses, or prophesy Apocalypse.  The rhetoric of risk is a lot easier for the self-professed progressives in public health to swallow than religious sermonizing would be.  Even when the sermon and the risk rhetoric have the identical goal: wiping out the moral offense.

From Junkfood Science, we learn that

Employers will now perform random tests of employees for evidence that they’ve smoked outside of work and will weigh employees in the workplace and report their BMIs to the state. Employees deemed noncompliant with the State Health Plan’s employer wellness initiative, will pay one-third-more for health insurance. Employers believed that eliminating smokers and fat people would lower health costs.

And from WSJ Health Blog, that the CEO of pharmaceutical corporation Schering-Plough agreed (at a meeting at the Cleveland Clinic) that people with unhealthy behavior should pay more for health insurance.  Sure — you certainly wouldn’t want the wealthy to pay more.

That’s not the only problem with the public health industry’s vigorous embrace of behavioral control, but it’s a big one.  Start classifying people based on how they behave, and you begin discriminating against the ones who don’t act right.  But the ones who you think don’t act right are almost always the ones society was already discriminating against — the poor, most of all.

And even when the poor aren’t getting shafted in the crusade against the unhealthy, inquiry about how a just society should work is going down the tubes.  The profound moral-philosophical questions of what is the right way to live a life, the right way to raise children, the nature of liberty, and so forth, are surrendered in the public health paradigm – replaced with the simple dichotomy:  healthy vs. not-healthy.



By Philip Alcabes | October 11th, 2009 | Categories: Behavior, Disease, epidemics, Health Professions, obesity, Physicians, public health, Risk, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , | Comments Off on Obesity and Public Health Control

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