This small group of men supported the swine flu decision, and, having committed themselves to it, did not waver. A few state officials dissented, but the vaccine establishment controls substantial amounts of public health funds; the establishment's decision will never be proved wrong--there might have been an epidemic--and it would have been politically foolish to argue. So few public health officials insisted that consumer representatives have a major voice in the decisionmaking. No one objected when the four drug companies that would profit from the program played such a major role in its planning.
WHEN ONE lonely bureaucrat threatened to disrupt the vaccine establishment's unanimity, the bureaucracy acted quickly to discredit him.
In the early 1970s, J. Anthony Morris, a respected vaccine researcher working at the National Institute of Health (NIH), began questioning the safety of some vaccines and the effectiveness of others, especially of flu vaccines. His superiors at NIH responded by taking away his support staff and laboratory space, killing his animals and cutting off his supplies. Eventually, Morris was left with nothing but a small office and a telephone.
Morris found an attorney (James Turner, a consumer lawyer and former Nader employee), initiated a grievance proceeding and publicized his case. His accusations led to a General Accounting Office investigation and to Senate hearings, which in turn led to a major shakeup in the vaccine regulatory agency. The Bureau of Biologics was revamped and transferred from NIH to the FDA, and in 1972 a grievance panel reinstated Morris and censured the agency for harassing him.
Soon, however, Morris again began to make his superiors uncomfortable. He asked whether slow-acting viruses in seemingly safe vaccines might cause serious illness decades after inoculation. He suggested that one now influenza vaccine might cause tumors, and charged that a major cell strain in which polio vaccine is grown was contaminated.
But Morris did not get into serious trouble until he attacked the swine flu program, charging that it would probably not work and might be very dangerous. Morris's boss asked a panel of vaccine experts--many of whom Morris had frequently criticized--to evaluate Morris's performance as a scientist. The panel concluded that most of Morris's experiments were "either not relevant...or...poorly designed and implemented."
While Morris's boss wanted him fired for "insubordination" and "inefficiency," an independent hearing examiner ruled that Morris's infractions were minor, and that the scientist should be suspended for at most five days. But Alexander M. Schmidt, then Commissioner of the FDA, overruled the examiner, and on July 16, 1976, J. Anthony Morris was fired.
The vaccine establishment treated other critics with similar, if more reserved arrogance. One state official, who asked not to be named, said he was given the impression that any open criticism of federal policy might result in less vaccine being shipped to his state. And when English and French authorities questioned America's panicky reaction, the U.S. vaccine establishment called their caution a case of sour grapes, claiming that if England has a vaccine-producing technology as advanced as America's it would have followed our lead--an ironic boast, given the production errors and delays that plagued the American program.
THE SWINE FLU fiasco has seriously affected immunization programs for other diseases. This year reported measles cases have been 64 per cent higher than in 1975, and next year the statistic undoubtedly will increase. The diversion of resources to the flu program, and the bad publicity justifiably associated with it, are at least partly to blame.
Immunization levels for measles, diphtheria, rubella and--most frightening--polio, have been falling for several years. In 1964 78.6 per cent of all children aged one to four had been vaccinated against polio, but by 1975 that figure had fallen to 63 per cent; many experts cite 80 per cent as the minimum level needed to prevent outbreaks. In Boston, a 1975 study showed that levels were lowest in the poor, black areas of Roxbury and North Dorchester, where in two schools surveyed the immunization level had fallen to 15 per cent. In inner cities and rural slums throughout the country, a 1940s-style outbreak of polio is not inconceivable.
If such an outbreak occurred, the swine flu program--and its government and industry apologists--would have to shoulder much of the blame. A planned initiative to boost immunization levels was set aside this year, as funds, personnel and attention were diverted to the swine flu program. In addition, many people have justifiably grown more skeptical of the wisdom of the vaccine establishment. If this skepticism leads them to shun all vaccines, the swine flu disaster will have been far more tragic than laughable.