Ask Your Doctor if This Big Pharma Scam Is Right
for You: The Dangers of a Drugged Up America.
In medicated America, the fix for every problem is
just a prescription away. Except that it's not.
Butterflies waft across a beautiful field of spring flowers. A delightful
young family bicycles joyously down a country lane. A couple on a park bench
leans sensually into each other. A 40-something woman's face radiates with both
perfect beauty and internal happiness. "All's right with the world," is the
message... as long as you've taken your dosages of Lunesta, Celebrex, Cialis,
and Botox.
Welcome to medicated America, where the fix for every problem--from
incontinence to erectile dysfunction, stiff joints to mood swings, weight gain
to wrinkles-- is just a prescription away. Thus the beautiful images, stirring
music, attractive actors, and soothing words in the omnipresent,
multibillion-dollar kaleidoscope of drug advertising by Pfizer, Merck, Eli
Lilly, Johnson & Johnson, and other giants of Big Pharma--all pitching their
particular brand-name nostrum directly at us hoi polloi (the industry spends a
fourth of its income on ads and other promotions, nearly double its expenditures
on research and development). The corporate come-ons typically conclude with a
phrase that has achieved cliche status in America's vernacular: "Ask your doctor
if 'Suprema Wundercure' is right for you."
The better question, though, is one that cartoonist Dan Piraro expressed in
one of his "Bizarro" panels: "Ask your doctor if playing into the hands of the
pharmaceutical industry is right for you."
One would assume that in a rich, medically advanced, health-conscious nation
like ours, dicey decisions about whether to allow a particular pharmaceutical
product into our bodies would be among the most rational we make--as determined
by (1) the best science available, (2) the strict moral duty of medical
purveyors to "First, do no harm," (3) good government regulation, and (4) the
profession's fear of public reproach and legal punishment. One would, however,
be wrong on all counts:
- Science has been supplanted by rank hucksterism
- The strictest "moral duty" of corporate executives has been reduced
to maximizing profits
- A "good" regulation is one that's good for profit seekers
- Public reproach is just a momentary embarrassment to be covered over
by corporate image makers
- Legal "punishment" never includes jail time, but only a fine that's
easily absorbed as a necessary cost of doing business by these immensely
profitable entities.
In the past three decades, America's healthcare system has radically
metamorphosed from a public service network (largely run by independent
physicians and nonprofit hospitals) into a corporate profit machine--one that
Dr. Arnold Relman, the
renowned former editor of the
New England Journal of Medicine, calls the
Medical-Industrial Complex. Drugmakers have been among the most ambitious,
in-your-face pushers of this transmutation of medicine into just another
commodity to be sold by hook or crook. In this system, the concept of "care" has
been reduced to "caveat emptor," with the shareholders' interest in monetary
gain overriding all other interests.
The DTC contagion
A fast-moving, systemic epidemic called DTC has swept across America,
endangering public health, jacking up our costs, and weakening the curative
connection between health professionals and patients. DTC stands for
"Direct-to-Consumer" drug advertising. It's a plague of
marketing, empowering profiteering corporations to short-circuit the judgment of
doctors by using all of the tricks of Madison Avenue (including lies) to
convince viewers and readers that (first) they're suffering from a particular
malady, (second) the advertiser's brand-name medicine is the very best cure, and
(finally) they must go to their doctors pronto to insist on getting a
prescription for that specific drug. The essence of this marketing scheme is to
turn consumers into sales representatives for drug peddlers. Brilliant.
Prescribing medicine through the television, radio, print, and internet ads
of corporations (whose sole motive is to sell more pills) is so crass, so awash
in conflicts of interest, and so inherently dangerous that
only two countrieshave ever legalized it: New Zealand in 1981
and the USA in 1997.
In our country, the corporate-friendly government of Ronald Reagan first
okayed DTC drug ads in 1985, but his Food and Drug Administration ruled that
pages-long consumer warnings about health risks had to be included, so there
were few takers. Then came Bill Clinton's corporate-friendly government, which
issued a revised FDA rule in 1997 allowing drugmakers to dodge the full
disclosure provision--as long as their ads met an "adequate" standard for
informing consumers about risks.
Such squishy words (slipped into regulations by industry lobbyists) are a
corporate wet dream. Thanks to the adequacy loophole, fluffy-puffy, no-worries
prescription drug ads quickly mushroomed. In 1997, spending on DTC ads was only
$220 million; by 2002, it was $2.8 billion; and it has kept a steady pace of
roughly $3 billion a year ever since.
Corporations don't spend that kind of money to dramatize the severity of
their products' nasty side effects. As two ad execs giddily put it in a
1998 report to
the industry, "The ultimate goal of DTC advertising is to stimulate consumers to
ask their doctors about the advertised drug and then, hopefully, get the
prescription." Obviously, to "get the prescription," corporate ads don't stress
such unpleasant outcomes as these (taken from the small print of full-page ads
for just a half dozen heavily advertised drugs): very high fevers, confusion,
uncontrollable bowel movements, trouble swallowing, lower sperm count, prostate
cancer, loss of vision, suicidal thoughts... and, of course, death.
Side effects do have to be addressed, but not conspicuously--for example,
it's "adequate" for an off-camera announcer to buzz through them with a muted,
fast-paced delivery (usually while cartoon butterflies flutter playfully
on-screen to distract viewer attention). It's a disgusting, dishonorable way to
generate sales--but it works. In 2008, the
House Commerce
Committee found that every $1,000 spent on drug ads produces 24 new
patients, and a
2003
research report found that prescription rates for drugs promoted with DTC
ads were nearly seven times greater than those without such promos. Ethics
aside, these consumer hustles have proven to be profit bonanzas:
- From 2000 through 2004, Merck & Co. poured more than $500 million
into adverts promoting Vioxx, turning the pain pill into one of the "Top 100 Megabrands" listed by Advertising Age. The
drug was meant for the relatively few people who can't stomach aspirin, but the
PR push touted it to all arthritis patients, a much larger marketing pool. The
campaign promised "everyday victories" over pain and immobility, featuring
former Olympic skating champ Dorothy Hamill spinning effortlessly (and
pain-free) on the ice. Merck's ads sold some 20 million Vioxx prescriptions,
including to people who paid the ultimate price for buying the hype--a 2005 research report in The Lancet, the prestigious
British medical journal, attributed as many as 140,000 sudden cardiac "events"
in America to the use of Vioxx. In September of 2004, Merck took the pill off
the market over "safety concerns." As an expert pharmacy consultant toldForbes magazine in 2006, "Vioxx wasn't a bad drug
for everyone, it was a bad drug for certain patients. Unfortunately, people saw
the ads and started demanding the drug from their doctors." That's the deadly
power of mass advertising for drugs.
- Some ads are simply frauds, including one that
Pfizer ran on TV until 2006, hailing the prowess of the company's
cholesterol-lowering drug, Lipitor. The star of the spot was Robert Jarvik, who
was described as the well-known "physician" who was the "inventor" of the
artificial heart. In a picturesque outdoorsy setting, he was shown vigorously
rowing a boat across a lake--visual "proof" that his own heart was in robust
condition thanks to his use of Lipitor. His tagline was: "You don't have to be a
doctor to appreciate that." Good, because he doesn't practice medicine, and
while he worked on the artificial heart, he did not invent it. Oh, he also
wasn't rowing the boat--a double played that role. Embarrassed, Pfizer had to
yank the ad--but it continues to merchandize Lipitor with some $250 million a
year in commercials, generating about $11 billion a year in sales, more than any
other pharmaceutical in history.
- Bear in mind that these pitches are being made to consumers who
cannot just go purchase the product--only licensed medical professionals can
diagnose and prescribe. But, again, the promotions work, as an industry
spokesman happily
affirmed: "There's a strong correlation between the amount of money
pharmaceutical companies spend on DTC advertising and what drug patients are
most often requesting from physicians." He also noted that the trumpeting of
brand-name pills "is definitely driving patients to the doctor's office." No
surprise, then, that prescription drug use has soared in the past decade, during
which spending (by consumers, private health plans, and governments) more than
doubled. A 2010 survey by the National Center for Health Statistics not
only found that about 35 percent of Americans over 60 take five or more
prescription medicines a day (more than twice the intake in 1999), but even 22
percent of children under age 12 are on at least one Rx regimen. "People may be
taking too many drugs," deadpanned the NCHS leader. And in recent years, a whole new
market has opened up for DTC hucksters: Medical devices. In 2007, Johnson
& Johnson launched the first mass-audience TV commercials for highly
specialized, complex therapeutic devices. This is beyond odd; it is dangerous.
Only expert practitioners have the knowledge and experience to judge whether one
brand-name medical gizmo is superior to another. Yet, here was J&J doing a
pitch to us clueless consumers for "Cypher," a drug-coated coronary stent for opening closed
arteries. I'm all for consumers getting more say in health care, but--come
on!--how would I know enough about the efficacy of various stents to instruct my
doctor to "Make mine Cyphers"?
The DTD contagion
In addition to getting you and me to push particular products on our doctors,
the drug and device industry runs a massive, sophisticated, and relentless
"Direct-to-Doctor" sales program that skates on the thinnest ethical ice and
frequently plunges all the way into illegality. While these efforts, costing
more than $6 billion a year, occasionally pretend to be "educational," they are
in fact an elaborate exercise in medical flimflammery--nothing but a
door-to-door ploy by each of the major makers to hoodwink your doctor into
prescribing their brand-name pill, rather than a competitor's brand or a
generic.
To do this, the biggest of Big Pharma deploy an astonishingly large force of
"sales reps" all across the country--90,000 of them! That's roughly one for
every nine physicians, and they swarm non-stop into doctors' offices--one
Virginia physician says his office had to set a quota of three visits in the
morning and three visits in the afternoon in order to get any doctoring done.
They are highly trained in persuasive arts, motivated to make the sale at all
costs, and alarmingly successful (a 2003 Blue Cross survey found that more than
half of "high-prescribing" doctors relied on the reps as their main source of
information about new drugs).
INTRIGUING QUESTION: What occupational sub-group of Americans are, by
far, the most heavily recruited to take jobs as drug reps? You might think
pharmacists, marketing consultants, or even used car salesmen. All wrong.
THE
SURPRISING ANSWER: College cheerleaders.
Hey, the point is to "make the sale," to entice this mostly male profession
to switch from A to B. Solid scientific evidence is one thing, but winks
apparently work, too--and who's twinklier, prettier, more buffed, peppier, or
more gregarious than cheerleaders? The University of Kentucky, which boasts
champion-level cheerleading squads, has been one of the premier movers of talent
from pompoms to Pharma. A UK "cheering advisor" notes that his perky collegians
are naturals for sales rep positions: "Exaggerated motions, exaggerated smiles,
exaggerated enthusiasm--they learn those things, and they can get people to do
what they want." He says he routinely receives calls from drugmakers seeking to
hire his graduates. "They don't ask what the major is," he says.
The demand is so high that an executive of a business that runs cheerleading
camps set up a specialized employment firm in 2004 called
"Spirited Sales Leaders." Based in Memphis, it funnels
hundreds of former cheerleaders into drug sales.
"There's a lot of sizzle" in being a sales rep, he explains, and these
experienced sizzle-generators can earn six figures a year, counting bonuses, for
pep-talking doctors into writing more prescriptions for their companies'
medicines.
Not that these upstanding corporate citizens would stoop to hiring
salespeople based on their sex appeal. No, no, explained a top executive of
Bristol-Myers Squibb: "[It] has nothing to do with looks, it's the
personality."
Sex appeal or not, the essence of the job is manipulation, and reps are
highly trained and well armed to ingratiate themselves with each individual on
their list of doctor-clients.
Adriane Fugh-Berman, a
doctor and professor at the Georgetown University Medical Center, is a drug
company watchdog who has studied the doctor-sales rep relationship. In a
2007 article, she reported that the salespeople play to a
doctor's feeling of being overworked and underappreciated: "Cheerful and
charming, bearing food and gifts, drug reps provide respite and sympathy; they
appreciate how hard doctors' lives are and seem only to want to ease their
burdens. But every word, every courtesy, every gift, and every piece of
information provided is carefully crafted, not to assist doctors or patients,
but to increase market share for targeted drugs." Here are key elements of the
DTD operation:
The file. Each doctor is a mark, and drug reps are trained
intelligence gatherers who build and constantly update a computerized corporate
file on the doc's personality, preferences, interests, and any personal tidbits
that might help them change his or her prescribing habits. The strategic goal of
good reps is to become each doctor's trusted "friend"--not unlike the
relationship that lobbyists try to cultivate with lawmakers.
The data. How can pill peddlers know which ones your doctor is
prescribing--isn't that a private matter? Not in today's bluntly intrusive world
of commercial data mining. A majority of pharmacies sell their records of every
single prescription written by doctors doing business with them. This vast trove
of computerized info is bought by such data hawkers as IMS Health, which
procures
prescriptions from about 70 percent of US pharmacies.
While the names of patients are deleted, the name of the doctor who wrote each
prescription is easily discernible, so pharmaceutical giants pay millions a year
to buy, slice, and dice the electronic data on exactly which medicines each
doctor has ordered and in what quantities. This is regularly fed to the laptops,
iPads, and even smartphones of the sales reps on the ground--allowing them to
target their daily pitches, and to precisely and carefully track the slightest
of changes in a doctor's prescribing habits.
The gift. Reps don't go to a physician's office empty-handed. Gourmet
donuts and lunch treats for the entire staff are daily routines, and doctors and
key staffers are treated to dinners at fine restaurants, holiday gift baskets,
tickets to a game or show, and such nice personal presents as a silk tie or a
monogrammed golf bag. A
New York Times report in January of this year says that
two-thirds of doctors accept such goodies. For the heavy prescribers of a
drugmaker's concoctions, the gifts grow ever-larger--a ski trip to Aspen, an
invitation to make weekly paid "lunch and learn" presentations in other doctors'
offices, an honorarium to make brief comments at a conference in some five-star
resort (complete with an "educational grant" to cover the bar tabs and other
incidentals), big-buck "consulting" contracts that require practically no work,
and outright cash payments for prescribing particular drugs. The Times' January
report found "that about a quarter of doctors take cash payments" and "that they
are more willing to prescribe drugs in risky and unapproved ways."
The hoax. Few doctors are experts in the chemistry and biological
impacts of particular medicines, so they rely on honest studies and tests (as
reported in credible medical journals) to give them an un-hyped, non-sales-rep
picture of the pluses and minuses of the drugs they choose to prescribe to you
and me. Unfortunately, this process, too, has been corrupted--drugmakers have
regularly paid doctors and researchers to conduct studies and publish results
without revealing their financial ties. Pfizer, however, sank this
sales-over-science approach to new lows when it launched its antidepressant,
Zoloft, in the 1990s. It hired an advertising firm to fabricate "studies," write
them up as salutary reports about the drug, pay some big-name psychiatrists a
couple of thousand bucks each to put their names on the reports, and convince
major journals (read by thousands of doctors) to publish the ghostwritten
"findings." About half of the medical articles about Zoloft at that time were ad
agency fakes. Journal editors, embarrassed by being scammed, have since imposed
safeguards, but many doctors and observers say that up to 20 percent of major
journal articles are still being ghosted.
We can do better
DTC and DTD are just two surging branches of the central stream running
through America's healthcare industry--an out-of-control stream that should be
labeled DTP--"Direct-to-Profit." The very fact that healthcare, an essential
human need, has been twisted into an "industry"--a commercial activity for the
purpose of maximizing profits--is a damning measure of its moral bankruptcy.
As avaricious and monopolistic drug corporations have demonstrated again and
again, "care" is treated, at best, as an externality to their real work of
making money--and at worst as an impediment to that corporate imperative. Thus,
top executives and boards of directors constantly seek ever more sophisticated
forms of deception and manipulation to, at all costs, make the sale. In this
ethos, such loathsome products as blatant price gouging, artificial shortages of
vital medicines, deliberate promotion of pills that kill, falsification of
medical research, and routine corruption of doctors are not merely tolerated,
but expected and accepted as normal.
Is this the best that this great, super-rich country can do? Of course
not--we Americans can, must, and will create a system that puts public need over
private greed. This month's "
Do Something" features some
groups leading the way. I'll give the final word to Dr. Relman, the thoughtful,
insistent, and unflagging voice for an ethical and sensible system of care built
around the concept of "Medicare for all." A decade ago, he wrote that "our
health policies have failed to meet national needs because they have been
heavily influenced by the delusion that medical care is essentially a
business... A different kind of approach could solve our problems, but it would
mean major reform of the entire system... Since such a reform would threaten the
financial interests of investors... the short-term political prospects for such
reform are not very good. But I am convinced that a complete overhaul is
inevitable, because in the long run nothing else is likely to work."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jim
Hightower is a national radio commentator, writer, public speaker, and
author of the new book, "
Swim Against the
Current: Even a Dead Fish Can Go With the Flow." (Wiley, March 2008) He
publishes the monthly "
Hightower
Lowdown," co-edited by Phillip Frazer.