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COVERING
MEDICAL TECHNOLOGY
BY
TRUDY LIEBERMAN

In
the name of news and the desire to build audience, the media are
stimulating demand for medical tests and treatments that are unproven
and untested, and may even be harmful. The lure of stories about
medical breakthroughs and miracles is so strong that the press
rushes to report on them even if there is little or no evidence
that they are safe and effective. "The cultural proclivity
to see medicine as heroic and triumphant is incredible,"
says Barton Laws, the senior investigator at the Latin-American
Health Institute in Boston. The press is part of that culture.
Print and TV journalists know that the public has high interest
in health-related stories. If your ratings are low, says Tom Bettag,
executive producer of Nightline, run a medical story. If your
ratings are really low, he adds, run two medical stories.
But more than a cultural bias is at work. Journalists often fall
victim to powerful public relations machines representing some
very big money. Reporting on a product or technology not yet proven
clinically effective generates sales for manufacturers and stimulates
a momentum that is hard to reverse. "It's extremely frustrating
for us to figure out what works and what doesn't," says David
Eddy, a physician and medical commentator. The media don't help.
Dr. Andrew Wiesenthal, who is in charge of clinical systems for
the Kaiser Permanente HMOs, says that the way journalists cover
new medical technologies often has a "crippling" effect
on getting them to the public safely and effectively.
Too many journalists take a formulaic approach to supposed medical
breakthroughs. They start with the premise that a technology works
or is effective, so the formula almost always dictates a positive
spin and produces a predictable story. Too often, stories omit
contrary information or do not acknowledge the uncertainty that
often surrounds new tests and treatments.
Janet Vasil is a reporter/producer for Medstar Television, a firm
that produces prepackaged medical news segments for TV stations
(sidebar, page 26). Almost all the stories her company does are
"patient-based," she says: "Mary Jones had this
problem. Dr. Smith had this answer. It's a problem-solution structure."
Most important, Vasil adds, there must be payoff for viewers --
"a kernel of information they can take away." All too
often the take-away message is: buy this drug, have this test,
ask for this technology, whether or not it is appropriate.
It's a classic story model. In 1998 the NBC News correspondent
Robert Hager reported on a new medical device, the Ultrafast CT,
which takes pictures of the heart and detects calcium buildup
in the coronary arteries. Calcium has been associated with heart
disease. The segment showed a man who had the test, discovered
calcium deposits, and eventually needed heart by-pass surgery.
It included the requisite poke at the insurance industry for not
covering the new procedure. Hager did not discuss any of the scientific
data on calcium scanning for coronary artery disease or acknowledge
that there were (and still are) serious doubts about its value.
The segment ended with news that the man who had needed by-pass
surgery was now healthy and that "some believe this new scanner
could keep many others healthy too." Hager did not say that
the doctor from George Washington University Hospital whom he'd
interviewed on-camera for the story was also the medical director
for HeartScan, a diagnostic facility in Washington, D.C., and
could benefit from patients coming his way. Nor did he disclose
that GE Medical Systems, part of the same corporate family as
NBC, was negotiating with Imatron (the manufacturer) to market
the Ultrafast CT. The deal was signed two months after Hager's
broadcast. Diagnostic imaging devices make up a large share of
GE Medical's $8 billion business. The firm is one of the biggest
players in the $60 billion U.S. medical device market.
Alan Garber, a physician and economist at Stanford who has studied
the data on heart scanning, says: "There is no persuasive
evidence that calcium is a better predictor of heart attacks or
coronary events than other risk factors. The message the public
should get is that this is one of several technologies, but there
are still unanswered questions. Few cardiologists would say this
is the best way to learn if you are at increased risk of having
a heart attack." Last year the American College of Cardiology
and the American Heart Association issued a statement saying that
electron beam CT, the technology's official name, could not be
recommended for diagnosing coronary artery disease because of
the high percentage of false positives that result from the test.
The technology may have some use for monitoring treatment, the
joint statement said, but only after more research corroborates
"the small number of published studies" that have been
done.
The format for covering medical stories may help build audiences,
but it does little to help them understand complex issues that
are seldom all black or all white. Too many stories suffer from
what we'll call the seven deadly sins of medical reporting.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
SIN
1: ACCENTUATING
THE POSITIVE AND
IGNORING THE NEGATIVE.
Perhaps
because so much medical news is manufactured by commercial interests
trying to sell a product, it is not surprising that many stories
carry a positive twist. In their haste to report any new medical
achievement, many news outlets either ignore the negative or slip
it in at the end of a story that already has been framed as a
positive report. What's worse is omitting the negative altogether,
even when good scientific evidence shows that a treatment is not
effective.
Coverage of Nickolas Zervos earlier this year is an example. In
January Zervos sued his insurance company, Empire HealthChoice,
in New York City, for refusing to pay for treatment for his late-stage
breast cancer, claiming that Empire was discriminating against
him because he was a man. Zervos wanted a treatment involving
the transplantation of blood stem cells. Throughout the 1990s,
some 30,000 women underwent similar treatment, which involved
very high doses of chemotherapy to kill cancer cells and then
the implantation of stem or bone marrow cells to replace those
killed during treatment. There was no proof that the $50,000-to-$100,000
procedure arrested the disease. In fact, two years ago, results
from four clinical trials gave the definitive answer: it did not
work. Insurance companies that had refused to pay for the treatment,
or had done so only in the face of pressure from the media, politicians,
and doctors with a financial stake in promoting the treatment,
had been right all along.
When Zervos and his lawyer sought publicity to force Empire to
pay, the media jumped on the story but not the facts. Negative
comments about the treatment's effectiveness came in the form
of a rebuttal from Empire and were framed to make the insurer,
which had stopped paying for the treatment once clinical results
came in, look like the bad guy. MSNBC didn't even include Empire's
side.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
SIN
2: GENERALIZING FROM ANECDOTES.
Story
after story on Ultrafast CT begins with anecdotes about patients
claiming that scanning saved their lives. Often sellers of technology
or their p.r. firms recommend the people featured as leads for
stories. Last October The Dallas Morning News ran a piece about
heart scans. A sidebar was titled success stories: three patient
profiles. One of those profiled -- identified as a marketing manager
for Imatron -- said: "If it weren't for Imatron and my heart
scan, I could have been out riding my bike and had the mystery
heart attack." Too often, such quotes imply that the test,
treatment, or technology is for everyone when it may not be, or,
as in the case of heart scanning, when evidence of benefits is
not clear. Sometimes such leaps result in bad outcomes. In a sample
of seventy-four stories about heart scanning, only the Rocky Mountain
News and The Washington Post mentioned patients who did not benefit
from the test.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
SIN
3: FAILING TO
RECOGNIZE WEAKNESSES IN SCIENTIFIC STUDIES.
Without
knowing the level of rigor that went into a particular study,
journalists can't reliably tell the public what to make of the
results, and whether they should have the test or treatment. An
AP story in 1996 discussed early research on heart scanning done
at St. Francis Hospital in Roslyn, New York. Dr. Alan Guerci,
the chief investigator, was quoted as saying that scanning proved
to be ten times more powerful a predictor of heart attacks and
blockages than the standard nonsurgical techniques such as cholesterol
testing. But the story did not discuss the study's shortcomings,
which Guerci later told me could have included "selection
bias," in other words, the lack of a representative sample
of patients, a weakness other researchers would consider significant
enough to negate the results.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
SIN
4: FAILING TO
INTERPRET THE NUMBERS.
Too
often medical stories do not report the key concepts that are
crucial to understanding what a test will and will not show. These
are: sensitivity, which tells what proportion of people with a
disease will test positive; specificity, which tells the proportion
of people without the disease who will correctly test negative;
positive predictive value, which tells the proportion of people
whose tests are positive who actually have the disease; and negative
predictive value, which indicates the proportion of people with
a negative test who do not have the disease. A test with high
sensitivity avoids false negatives; one with high specificity
avoids a lot of false positives.
Without some notion of how a test stacks up on those parameters,
it's impossible for a reporter to convey to the public whether
to have a test, particularly one that can lead to risky and sometimes
unnecessary treatment. Few journalists writing about either heart
scanning or about ThinPrep, a pap smear test for cervical cancer,
offered a numerical context for making a judgment. With ThinPrep,
media coverage largely ignored the question of specificity --
how many false positives result from preparing cells in a different
way, which is what ThinPrep does. "That should have been
automatic in the questioning by reporters," says Alan Garber.
They should have asked if the technology falsely led women to
believe they had pre-cancerous lesions, he said.
When reporters did take a stab at the numbers, they sometimes
used them in inaccurate or misleading ways. A July 2000 story
on heart scanning in the Chicago Sun-Times reported that "A
finding of no blocks is 98 percent assurance you won't have a
heart attack for several years." The reporter simply tossed
out that number without saying where it came from, or adding any
caveats. He did not, for instance, identify the population he
was talking about. That percentage might be different for a group
of young women who don't have many heart attacks than for a group
of older men who do.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
SIN
5: FAILING TO
DISCLOSE SOURCES'
CONFLICTS OF INTEREST.
Conflicts
of interest, primarily financial ties to manufacturers and sellers
of technology, abound in medical reporting. Those quoted may be
experts, but their judgments may be colored if some fraction of
their income comes from those who make the technology. But journalists
eager to quote an expert, or someone who appears to be an expert,
don't routinely inquire about those conflicts. Dr. Kenneth Noller,
head of OB-GYN at the New England Medical Center, who was the
spokesman for the American College of Obstetrics and Gynecology
during the campaign for ThinPrep, says he was not asked more than
once or twice if he had any financial connection to companies
that made pap smear slides. Noller said, in fact, he received
no money from ThinPrep's manufacturer. But how would journalists
know this unless they asked?
Mainstream journalists are not the only ones failing to disclose
conflicts of interest. Medical and scientific journals -- which
publish the results of studies that eventually make their way
to lay audiences -- often don't disclose them either. Dr. Sheldon
Krimsky, a professor at Tufts University, found that two-thirds
of peer-reviewed journals that had disclosure policies were nonetheless
not requiring disclosure. "I think you should know where
funding is coming from," Krimsky says.
Sometimes bias is subtle and hard to detect. In its story on scanning,
in June 1999, Better Homes and Gardens quoted an Atlanta cardiologist,
Dr. John Cantwell, who called it a "very promising technology.
In the past, we've had people take a treadmill test, walk away,
and think everything was okay, only to have a heart attack soon
after." The magazine failed to note that Cantwell analyzes
scans for Lifetest Cardiac Imaging. In a sidebar next to his comments,
Lifetest was listed as one of thirty-six places around the country
where people could have their hearts scanned.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
SIN
6: CONFUSING AN
INTERMEDIATE OUTCOME WITH A HEALTH OUTCOME.
Too
often journalists mistake an intermediate outcome for an ultimate
health outcome, which results in a misleading presentation. An
intermediate outcome is one that portends the expected health
outcome. Lowering blood pressure is an intermediate outcome; reducing
deaths from heart attacks and strokes is a health outcome. There
is no absolute connection between the two. A particular treatment
may reduce blood pressure, but there's no guarantee the person
won't have a stroke.
The press often failed to make those distinctions when it produced
stories on the treatment known as autologous bone marrow transplantation
(ABMT) for women with late-stage breast cancer. In this case,
oncologists became advocates for the treatment because x-rays
showed that tumors appeared to recede more often -- an intermediate
outcome. Journalists took their word.
The St. Louis Post-Dispatch in 1995 allowed a local doctor to
tell how his patient's tumor had shrunk from "seven centimeters
to a grain of sand," the result of conventional chemotherapy.
He then implied that the same might happen with higher doses of
the drugs. "I have no doubt that every expert in the country
would favor giving this treatment to this patient," he said.
The story did not point out that randomized controlled trials
were necessary to see if the treatment actually improved survival
rates -- a health outcome.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
SIN
7: OFFERING TIPS THAT MAY BE MISLEADING OR HARMFUL.
Despite
concerns about the use of scanning as a mass screening tool and
despite a letter from the FDA warning Imatron that it was making
unapproved claims for its machine, several news outlets encouraged
the public to seek a heart scan. The St. Petersburg Times ran
an item in 1999 that told readers where they could attend a forum
on heart scanning, as well as the number of a diagnostic facility.
The item was presented benignly, as if it were an announcement
of a garden club meeting. Better Homes and Gardens also published
a list in 1999 and went on to tell readers that, while hospitals
generally require patients to have referrals from doctors, those
with heart disease who want to take the test anyway should simply
"call a screening center and make your own appointment."
For journalists who want to do a good job covering new technology,
there are few places to consult for independent assessments. Congress
killed the Office of Technology Assessment during Newt Gingrich's
term as House speaker. Biotech firms, which had much to gain from
the agency's demise, were heavy contributors to Gingrich's political
action committee. Few reporters turn to the Blue Cross and Blue
Shield Association Technology Evaluation Center. The center assesses
clinical evidence and sometimes the cost-effectiveness of a procedure,
but does not tell individual Blue Cross plans whether to pay for
the technology. Of the seventy-four stories about heart scanning,
only two mentioned evaluations by the center. Of the ninety-one
stories sampled about ThinPrep, only one noted that the center
had evaluated the evidence for the technology.
During the 1990s when newspapers were publishing hundreds of stories
about women with late-stage breast cancer who wanted ABMT therapy,
few journalists turned to ECRI, a nonprofit, independent health-care
research organization in Pennsylvania that evaluates medical technology.
In early 1995, ECRI published a report that examined the data
on the treatment and found no evidence that ABMT produced any
advantage over conventional chemotherapy. A Nexis search of news
outlets turned up only eight stories in the general media and
seven in the trade press that mentioned the report in the months
before official publication and in the two years after it was
released. Pressures from editors to shorten, simplify, and produce
a dramatic story line can also work against thoughtful and honest
coverage.
As the budget for the National Institutes of Health continues
to increase, the difficulty of conveying accurate information
to patients, as well as public policy questions surrounding the
use of new technology, will intensify. This huge infusion of federal
money will spawn more research, more new devices -- and more public
relations efforts on behalf of sellers who will profit from the
government's largesse. "We're great at inventing new tests
and treatments, but terrible at figuring out whether they work
-- and even worse at limiting their uses to proven effective indications,"
says Dr. Mark Chassin, chairman of the Health Policy department
at Mt. Sinai School of Medicine in New York City.
Journalists trying to sort out new technology and judge the claims
of sellers, manufacturers, and health-care providers against the
needs of patients and the costs to the health care system would
do well to think of Archie Cochrane. Cochrane was the British
physician and epidemiologist whose work promoting evidence-based
medicine is memorialized in the Cochrane Collaboration, an organization
of more than 5,000 investigators from more than forty countries
who prepare systematic reviews of research on health care.
"Until the second quarter of this century, therapy had very
little effect on morbidity and mortality," Cochrane wrote
in 1972. "One should, therefore, forty years later, be delightfully
surprised when any treatment at all is effective, and always assume
that a treatment is ineffective unless there is evidence to the
contrary."
Today his remarks are more relevant than ever.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Trudy Lieberman, a contributing editor to CJR, was a fellow
last semester at the Joan Shorenstein Center on the Press, Politics
and Public Policy at Harvard's Kennedy School of Government. She
looked at media coverage of new medical technology. This story
is based on that research. Ryan Smee, a cjr intern, provided additional
reporting.
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