The director of the National Institute of Mental Health, Thomas R. Insel, has softened his denial of a mutually helpful relationship with Charles B. Nemeroff, a university researcher found to have repeatedly collected undisclosed corporate payments. In an update to his official blog posting, Dr. Insel said his initial denial of job assistance from Dr. Nemeroff 'may be viewed as misleading,' and acknowledged that Dr. Nemeroff served in key positions related to Dr. Insel's hiring by Emory University.
The escapades of the former Emory University Chair of Psychiatry, Dr Charles Nemeroff, now have gotten quite a lot of press, but we were writing about some of them here on Health Care Renewal before the good doctor became so well-known. Dr Bernard Carroll, for instance, posted here and here, and I posted here (with links backward).
We have also posted about how well-intentioned public broadcasters seem to have got caught up in the web of health care conflicts of interest. Here we talked about how a drug company ended up funding a special on obesity, and here we talked about the involvement of a device and a drug company in the "Mysterious Human Heart."
In late June, the Columbia Journalism Review included an article by Paul Scott about how a US Public Broadcasting System show won an illustrious Peabody award for a show featuring Dr Nemeroff pontificating about depression.
Mr Scott concluded, memorably,
Last May, a Peabody was awarded to the film Depression: Out of the Shadows, a documentary which aired in 2008 on PBS, was produced by Twin Cities Public Television and WGBH Boston, and was written and directed by Minneapolis-based filmmaker Larkin McPhee.
But where her film was generous in its inclusion of heartbreaking personal stories about depression, its broad survey of the science of the illness included frequent appearances by Charles Nemeroff, M.D., a leading—some say powerful—mood disorders researcher from Emory University. Last fall, Nemeroff also became one of the most prominent psychiatrists to be rebuked for failing to disclose funds earned from the drug industry.
Last October, Senator Charles Grassley of Iowa notified Emory that Nemeroff had received $2.8 million from drug companies between 2000 and 2007, $1.2 million of which he failed to report to the university, as he was required to do according to federal rules. To reduce their risk of bias, National Institutes of Health (NIH) researchers must limit to $10,000 their annual receipt of payments from the makers of drugs they are studying. As the lead investigator for a five-year, $3.95 million federal grant to study Paxil and other GlaxoSmithKline drugs, Nemeroff pocketed seventeen times the NIH limit from GSK in 2004 alone, and exceeded his limit every year from 2003 through 2006, without informing his employers. Following his rebuke, Nemeroff lost his chairmanship at Emory, saw $9.2 million in NIH funds meant for Emory frozen, and was banned from federal research for two years.
Some might argue that little about this episode matters, since Nemeroff’s downfall took place in October and Depression: Out of the Shadows aired five months earlier. Yet a simple Google search would have alerted McPhee to the fact that Nemeroff, though the author of hundreds of research papers and well respected in his field, has been dogged by conflict of interest allegations for years. In 2003, he came under fire for praising three pharmaceutical products in the journal Nature Neuroscience without disclosing he held a financial stake in their success, one of which he held the patent on.
Three years later, Nemeroff resigned from his editorship of the journal Neuropsychopharmacology after The Wall Street Journal reported he held an undisclosed financial stake in a treatment for depression he praised in an article. Nemeroff is either great at making excuses for his conduct or extremely unlucky. Following his 2003 misstep, he blamed the journal in question for not requiring him to mention his conflicts. Following his omission in 2006, Nemeroff blamed a clerical error. Following his rebuke by Sen. Grassley, Nemeroff told his employers he did not realize that drug-industry sponsored continuing education appearances were payments requiring disclosure.
All defenses aside, by the time of production for Depression: Out of the Shadows, his drug industry entanglements were both widely distributed and widely known. “With financial ties to nearly two dozen drug and biotech companies,” wroteShannon Brownlee in The Washington Monthly in 2004, “Dr. Charles B. Nemeroff may hold some sort of record among academic clinicians for the most conflicts of interest.”
That PBS producers either did not know about Nemeroff’s drug industry entanglements or did not believe they tainted his discussion of the science of depression is disappointing.
But what made the praise bestowed on this PBS documentary particularly troubling were the erroneous, drug-industry serving statements made by Nemeroff within the film—statements which had the potential to negatively affect public health, and which the documentary left unchallenged. During a segment on the FDA’s 2004 decision to require “black box” safety warnings stating that antidepressants can increase the risk of suicide in children and teenagers, a risk it extended in May of 2007 to users under twenty-five, Nemeroff seized the occasion to claim that the federal safety warning was mistaken.
He did so by citing a 2007 study partially funded by Pfizer and published in The American Journal of Psychiatry, a paper ostensibly linking the warning with a subsequent increase in teen suicides. “The FDA put a black box warning for all age groups,” Nemeroff said in the documentary. “I believe this was a mistake, because in hastening our awareness, what we’ve shown is there’s been a marked drop in prescriptions of antidepressants, particularly for children and adolescents…and an increase in suicides and suicide attempts.”
But as critics quickly pointed outto The Boston Globe and The New York Times, the increase in suicides Nemeroff described actually occurred a year before a drop-off in antidepressant use. (You can’t blame a rise in suicides in 2003 on a drop off in prescriptions in 2005.) At the time, most parties to this debate agreed that the question of whether black-box warnings were inadvertently dangerous would not be further clarified until the release of Centers for Disease Control suicide data from 2005.That data came out a month later, and showed that suicides have fallen overall; a follow-up report showed that suicides have fallen among youth specifically. The total number remains higher than in 2003, but less than in 2004, when the FDA warning went into effect.Given the complexity of epidemiological data and the rarity of suicide, those findings prove little except that any effort to link an uptick in suicides to reduced prescribing of antidepressant medications to children and teenagers is not supported by the epidemiological data.
Something about the simultaneously complex and sympathetic nature of mental health reporting is making reputable journalistic organizations and well-meaning reporters sloppy.Were health care journalists to dig deeper into the financial entanglements of some of the "key opinion leaders" who may be so eager to appear in well-meaning, and at times feel-good documentaries, the public might learn more about the web of conflicts of interest that now ensnares health care. They might also learn how much of what appears to be health care education is just marketing in disguise. That marketing is often of expensive, and not terribly effective treatments. Realizing that many seeming miracle cures aren't might lead to the skepticism that could help us control health care costs without hurting patients.
What a difference a month makes. When I went on vacation in June the Director of NIMH, Thomas Insel, was stonewalling about his relationship with Charles Nemeroff. Insel wanted to put distance between himself and the poster boy for conflict of interest in academic medicine. The heat was on Insel because of revelations that he helped Nemeroff get a new position at Miami after his fall from grace at Emory. Insel also gave a green light for Nemeroff to reapply for NIMH grant funding, and he appointed Nemeroff to new research review committees. These actions were widely seen as efforts to help Nemeroff get back into circulation. It didn’t help that people called attention to past favors and lobbying by Nemeroff on behalf of Insel.
Things continued to unravel, and on about June 29 Insel placed a disclaimer on his official blog. Insel here allowed that his earlier official statements “may be viewed as misleading.” This softening of Insel’s position was picked up June 29 by the Chronicle of Higher Education. Not only was Insel’s disclaimer on his official weblog undated, it is mealy mouthed and it was widely criticized – here and here, for instance – as further evidence of Insel’s disingenuousness.
By July 7 we learned of further revisions to Insel’s position. In response to pressure from Senator Charles Grassley (R-Iowa), Insel issued a mea culpa in which he agreed that Nemeroff’s actions constituted “an egregious violation of NIH policy and University rules.” Insel also acknowledged that his willingness to help Nemeroff “may have created the appearance of favoritism. In retrospect, I regret that my actions… appear inappropriate for a Federal research official given my past association with Dr. Nemeroff.” This new statement also was raked over as further evidence of Insel’s dissembling – see here and here and here.
Nowhere in Insel’s new self serving statements is there any apology for his ill advised appointment of Nemeroff to new Federal research review panels. This signals once again that Insel just doesn’t get it when it comes to his crony Nemeroff. It is not in the job description of an NIH Institute Director to taint research review panels with compromised and sanctioned scientists.
Keep in mind that the appearance of malfeasance and impropriety most often occurs in the presence of malfeasance and impropriety. That is a standard Bayesian proposition that Insel seems not to grasp.
In light of these developments, who can take seriously the work Dr. Insel says he has done to develop a new NIH initiative on ethics? The leadership of NIH tacitly acknowledged this problem when they recently extended the period of comment on the new ethics proposals. This was done specifically to mend the regulatory hole that Insel and his crony Nemeroff walked through when Insel assured Pascal Goldschmidt at Miami that Nemeroff could go right ahead to apply for new NIMH funding. Left to his own initiative, Insel kept the hole wide open. His July 7 statement to Senator Grassley that "I do not condone the gap in our policy that allowed (Nemeroff) to avoid the penalty implemented by Emory by moving to another university…” rings hollow: actions speak louder than words, and Insel had many months in which he could have closed the gap before the present scandal surfaced.
How much longer can NIH tolerate an ethical prevaricator as an Institute Director?
Bernard Carroll