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1 Nisan 2017 Cumartesi

Experiences of anxiety: "I suddenly became so anxious I couldn’t breathe"

Jo, Washington DC
Having an anxiety disorder means that I don’t just have a lot of feelings, I have feelings about my feelings. I worry that my feelings aren’t real or that my feelings about my feelings are the correct feelings, or my feelings are the wrong feelings. I have shame about my feelings, guilt about my feelings, anger about my feelings. Sometimes I wonder which feeling is real – the initial feeling or the resulting feeling? Am I making myself feel this way or do I just feel this way?


I’m always looking for patterns. I thrive on routine. Anything to make me feel less trapped, like I have control. My best friend dying in high school threw this desire for control into overdrive. I can’t enjoy concerts or festivals or bars because there are too many people – what if there’s a fire? What if someone starts shooting? Will I get crushed to death in the inevitable stampede?


One time in high school my friend spent the night, sleeping on my floor directly underneath the ceiling fan. I couldn’t sleep for hours because I imagined what I would do if the ceiling fan suddenly collapsed. I went over the plan again and again, all night long.


Airplanes are a problem. I travel a lot for work. My airplane routine is thus: pack efficiently at least two days prior. Select an odd-numbered window seat (preferably A, but F will do at a pinch), preferably with a seven or a three (but not 13) – 11A is my favourite seat – 17A comes in second. I will pick 27A over 25A, even though it’s farther back in the plane. I wear my airplane sweater, the same sweater I’ve worn on every flight for the last four to five years and take anti-anxiety medications.


I love my friends, and I know, intellectually, my friends like me (otherwise why would they hang out with me?). But I’m constantly worried they don’t like me, or that I’m being annoying, or that they only invite me around because I’m just that friend that’s always around who you can’t get rid of.


Anonymous, 20
I’ve always been an anxious person, even as a child. Moving away from home forced me out of my comfortable hole, out of my comfort zone, which is when my anxiety and depression got so much worse.


It was after months of paranoia, violent imaginings and a confusing sleeping pattern that I forced myself to get help. Since then I’ve been in therapy more or less constantly, which has helped me learn more about myself, and ways of coping. In a way, therapy offered me a chance to reintroduce me to myself.


If there is one take away piece of advice I could give, after years of debilitating anxiety and depression, it would be to make valuable friends, and to not be scared to talk to them about your anxieties and worries – it’s a very British thing to just bottle everything up, but you have to unbottle, and release the pressure sometimes.


Sinead Taylor, Melbourne, 24



49081678 img 6220


A poem by Sinead Taylor. Photograph: Sinead Taylor

I have struggled with anxiety and depression since I was about eight. I went through years of therapy and counselling to fight my mental illness and through writing I have reached a very happy and healthy state.


Anonymous, 20, student
I’ve had a rocky road with mental health. I’ve suffered with what I think is a considerable problem with anxiety for nearly four years now. The fact that my life is near enough perfect and I still experience these feelings is astounding and often makes me feel helpless.


Bouts of anxiety where there is a constant niggling voice in my head, doubting everything I do and the actions of others, panic attacks, sometimes out of the blue, and deep-seated issues with skin picking and cleanliness, can be overwhelming and distract me from my work and sleep. I’ll be lucky to be asleep before four in the morning as of late.


Not so long ago I went to see my GP about it. They didn’t refer me, I wasn’t diagnosed, they just gave me pills and sent me on my way. The pills worked temporarily, but I didn’t understand how to tackle my issues, I didn’t even understand what my issues were or what was causing them. I still don’t.


David Beeney, 54
I will never forget 2 September 1986, one of the worst days of my life. I was helping to interview somebody and suddenly became so anxious I couldn’t breathe. I pretended that I felt faint to disguise what was really going on, and did exactly the same the following day in similar circumstances.


Little did I know then that I would continue to mask similar feelings of anxiety for the next 30 years. Two days later, I attended a wonderful wedding with my closest family and friends. Their memory of me that day would be of me acting the clown. My only memory of that day was thinking that my promising career was over at only 24-years-old and that I was going “mental”.


You just can’t tell by looking at someone how they are feeling inside. Back in 2004, a number of us went out straight from work to watch an England game. Our boss had put some money behind the bar and I can remember us all cheering England to a rare victory. What nobody noticed that evening was the young lad who decided to go home at half time. He didn’t turn up for work the next day. We never saw him again because he chose to kill himself, as life was no longer bearable for him. His closest colleagues were shocked because he had been laughing and joking only the day before in the office.


In the UK, the Samaritans can be contacted on 116 123.
In the US, the National Suicide Prevention Hotline is 1-800-273-8255.
In Australia, the crisis support service Lifeline is on 13 11 14.



Experiences of anxiety: "I suddenly became so anxious I couldn’t breathe"

7 Şubat 2017 Salı

When my mum became a ‘bed blocker’, I saw the crisis in care for older people | Ros Coward

The case of Iris Sibley, trapped for six months in a Bristol hospital while her family and health authority hunted for a suitable care home, has highlighted how “bed blocking” is a key term in the crisis currently engulfing the NHS. When this week brought the news that nine out of 10 hospitals are overcrowded, NHS bosses pointed to major problems discharging patients. A&E’s failure to meet its four-hour target has similar causes and the excellent BBC TV series Hospital has highlighted how operations, both urgent and routine, are being delayed because beds needed for recovery are “blocked” by patients who no longer need to be in hospital.


Bed blocking is an impersonal term that expresses hospitals’ problems with resources. For the patients and family, it is much more personal. My mother became a “bed blocker” three years ago when, aged 89 and suffering from dementia, she collapsed and was admitted to hospital. She’d had several hospitalisations in the previous eight years but on the other occasions she’d been patched up and returned home. This time, after two weeks, she was declared stable but unable to cope any more on her own. I was told that a care home should be found, and rather sheepishly that the hospital “needed the bed back”.




We found a home within four weeks, yet it was another month before my mother was discharged




Like our society facing the coming crisis in elderly care, I wasn’t in any way prepared for this moment. Every time my mother had been hospitalised previously we’d seen first-hand what was being cited as the reason for much bed blocking: hospital weakened her, medication was altered, and her social care fell apart and became more difficult to re-establish as cuts hit social services. But in spite of all these mini-crises, we usually managed, eventually, to get her home. This time we had to make alternative arrangements.


The following five weeks were terrible. I was very distressed. I felt guilty. I had nightmares about making my mother leave her home. Contrary to Tory minister David Mowat’s recent comments that families aren’t prepared to care for their elderly parents at home, I clung to the hope that we could find a halfway house to rehabilitate her, or we could find additional social care to keep her at home. But the hospital kept pressuring and I shifted to scouring care homes and taking a crash course in what had become an overwhelmingly important issue: how a care home would be funded.


This was a lot of work, but ultimately it wasn’t me who held things up. We found a home within four weeks, yet it was another month before my mother was discharged. It is hard to pin down exactly why, but in the mix were cancelled meetings with consultants, staff absences and a lack of continuity between various agencies.


Worst of all was the finances. Endless time was spent researching funding and working on the care assessment form that determines the NHS’s contribution to care out of hospital. Despite huge numbers of older people now needing “medicalised” care of the sort previously provided in geriatric wards by the NHS, they are not entitled to full funding in care homes. But getting to the point of understanding entitlements and contributions and being therefore able to finalise the care home arrangements is a struggle. The eventual verdict had been anticipated by the discharge nurse five weeks previously: my mother was entitled to the basic further care element and the rest she would have to pay for herself, with the proceeds of selling her home.


Just as we began to gently prepare my mother for the move, she was abruptly shifted to another ward. She became extremely distressed and confused, and cried for the first time since entering hospital. And her whole care team disappeared – all the people with whom we’d been making these decisions and negotiating finances. The cause of this was again a shortage of beds, but for a person suffering from dementia and who was about to make the most important move of her life, it was awful.


It is not the fault of the NHS staff. In this instance they were uniformly compassionate. But while the staff don’t lack compassion, the system certainly does. Older people needing medicalised social care shouldn’t be pawns in a bureaucratic game where beds, forms and financial targets take precedence over humanity, while the NHS and councils, responsible for social care, desperately try to get the other to shoulder the costs. It’s shameful that resources are so scarce for the care of elderly people that it feels like horse trading to get anything at all.


Care for older people needs to change urgently. When my mother became a bed blocker the promises of the 2011 Dilnot report hung in the air. Dilnot was trying to rationalise the system, cap families’ contributions, and encourage social insurance to fund elderly care properly. Years later I’m shocked to find that nothing has changed. Theresa May talks about making Britain “work for all”, but Dilnot’s suggestions, which could improve life for elderly people and their families, have dropped off the radar.



When my mum became a ‘bed blocker’, I saw the crisis in care for older people | Ros Coward

2 Şubat 2017 Perşembe

Forget-me-nots in Purley: how the town became "dementia friendly"

You don’t need to spend long in Purley to realise the town is home to many elderly people. The otherwise unremarkable suburb of Croydon is surrounded by numerous residential care homes, and in Purley Library, staff are used to adapting to the needs of elderly visitors.


While the older generation adds much to the town’s community and economy, there are occasional issues: visitors from the local care homes often forget where they are or what they are looking for. “We’ve had two already this morning,” one librarian says on a Friday afternoon in January. Another local describes how she notices some people having trouble in shops, struggling to remember pin numbers or momentarily forgetting what they are buying.


In 2012, Croydon determined that 3,300 residents of the borough are living with dementia, above the London average, and set to rise to 4,500 by 2025. So when Purley Bid, the business improvement district, held a meeting to discuss measures to improve the town, much centred on finding new ways to support the elderly population.


“We realised there wasn’t much being done for them,” says Yuliana Topazly, marketing manager for Purley Bid. “Businesses knew they needed to do more to make them feel more welcome in the town centre.” After dementia awareness-raising events hosted by the Bid last year, and a number of workshops run by the Dementia Friends initiative, Purley was designated a dementia-friendly community in January this year.


The focus is now on providing free training so locals can better recognise, understand and assist those with dementia. Dementia-friendly businesses are provided with stickers displaying the Alzheimer’s Society forget-me-nots flower logo, which are date-stamped to encourage business owners to maintain standards.



The knotted handkerchief logo that shops in Bruges use to show they are dementia-friendly.


A sign in Bruges, Belgium denoting a ‘dementia-friendly’ shop. Photograph: Ross Davies

The Alzheimer’s Society has designated 220 communities in England and Wales as dementia-friendly, aiming to reduce stigma around the disorder and improve safety and quality of life for those who experience it. The charity is campaigning for London to be the world’s first “dementia-friendly capital city” by 2020, defining such a place as “a city where every person with dementia – no matter who they are or where they live – can live well and access the right support, at the right time, in the right way”.


The concept of dementia-friendly communities was born in Japan in the 1990s, where an ageing population forced radical thinking: rather than exclude people with dementia from society, Japanese cities developed a range of programmes that would allow those living with dementia to continue to engage with the world around them. It’s estimated that the condition will affect 7 million – or 20% of all people aged 65 or over – in Japan by 2025.


In the Belgian city of Bruges – a place where 2,000 of the 116,000 residents have dementia – 90 shops classify as dementia-friendly. They display a logo of a knotted red handkerchief – a symbol of the traditional memory aid – which signifies that staff can offer assistance to people with the condition. The initiative, set up by charity Foton, has also been distributing dementia guides and training sessions.




We want people with dementia to feel confident to go out


Sara Miles, the Alzheimer’s Society


Dementia is also a growing problem in the UK. The Alzheimer’s Society believes it will affect more than 1 million residents by 2025. Of the 850,000 people who currently have dementia in the country, 40% said they feel lonely and 34% don’t feel part of their community. To counter this, in February 2015, former prime minister David Cameron introduced the challenge on dementia 2020, which called for half the population of England and Wales to be living in a recognised dementia-friendly community by 2020 and for there to be 4 million “Dementia Friends”.


“Dementia Friends are those who have had awareness training in understanding and empathy,” explains Sara Miles of the Alzheimer’s Society. “That’s a crucial element in the community – you need those working in the infrastructure to understand the needs of people with dementia in your area.”


“We want people with dementia to feel confident to go out; we don’t want them sitting at home,” adds Miles. “We want them to stay active for as long as possible, to do their own banking or shopping, so that’s where retailers are so important. We want to keep those parts of the brains active as long as possible and to retain that quality of life, so they interact rather than sitting at home feeling isolated and alone.”


There’s no single set menu of measures to employ when creating a dementia-friendly community; instead areas are encouraged to choose what works best for them. These communities tend to be built from the ground up, often having been championed by people with direct experience.



Elderly woman pushes trolley down street


Not everyone embraces the dementia-friendly idea. One Purley resident said: ‘My dad had dementia, and I wouldn’t have wanted him going out alone without a carer, even if there had been local improvements.’ Photograph: Stefan Wermuth/Reuters

It’s then down to community groups to contact a body like the Dementia Action Alliance, an umbrella organisation consisting of 150 groups working in the field, who can offer advice. This is an intensely localised concept, created so each community is able to adapt to specific needs.


“There are certain strands that come up regularly – arts, businesses and shops, transport, community associations, housing – but a community can decide what they want to focus on and what tools to use,” Miles says.


In the London borough of Lewisham, for instance, there has been a drive to persuade museums and arts venues to offer dementia-friendly activities, as well as working with shops, supermarkets and banks to provide slow lanes and special assistance. In York, a taxi firm has introduced a dementia-friendly service. In Bradford, particular effort has gone into working with a local primary school and also with gurdwaras to break down barriers in the Sikh community.


Raising awareness of the scheme is a challenge. Speaking to locals in shops and cafes in Purley, there seems to be little knowledge about its new status, although most like the idea. Anura Kalubowila, who runs the Purley View residential care home, understands the value of a supportive external community for those with dementia. “We would be happy for residents to get out more,” he says. “We do excursions with them already – stimulation is important.”


Lynda Pennington, a manager at the Purley Cross community centre, is pleased about the training on offer. “We want to upscale our volunteers to be dementia friendly,” she says.


“We often get people in here with dementia and it can be difficult, but as a community we are aware of the needs of old people because of all the local care homes. With training people can be even more responsive. Shopkeepers should come to get the training, it’s in their interests as it benefits the community.”



Elderly woman and shopkeeper


Training can help retailers interact better with people with dementia. Photograph: Rex Features

The only dissenting voice came in a nearby cafe. “My dad had dementia, and I wouldn’t have wanted him going out alone without a carer, even if there had been local improvements,” says a manager, who preferred to remain anonymous.


Purley Bid aims to challenge such fears and hopes that over time, people with dementia will feel more welcome and safe in the community when they leave their homes. Topazly hopes people may choose to move to Purley precisely because it has dementia-friendly status.


Issues around ageing are increasingly important to cities. While dementia-friendly communities share some characteristics with the broader concept of age-friendly cities, there are crucial differences. Natalie Turner, who works for the Centre for Ageing Better, has studied how the two approaches work in the US.


“Age-friendly is much broader and deeper, looking at how to tackle the challenge of demographic change,” she says. “It’s much more holistic, focusing less on decline and disability and more on change and opportunity.


“Dementia friendly is a much more specific lens, it’s grassroots and very localised, usually focused around a high street. It’s also more focused on training – getting people to understand needs. It’s not really going to be embedded into the city planning. As a result, the age-friendly conversation can inadvertently neglect the needs of the most vulnerable, and people with dementia and their carers can get left out of any big planning.”


One body working with this problem is the University of Stirling’s Dementia Services Development Centre. They use design to improve the private and public realm by encouraging dementia-friendly measures that promote familiarity, legibility, distinctiveness, accessibility, comfort and safety. “It’s about making sure surfaces between floors and walls are clearer, making exits and entrances much more obvious,” says Turner.


For such major changes to be introduced, the conversation about dementia friendliness has to go beyond communities and into local councils. This is partly why Purley Bid has begun talking to Croydon council about the plans.


“We need the council to put the resources out there so people have the information they need,” says Topazly. “Maybe any new business that opens on a high street should be encouraged to think about customers who have dementia. We want Croydon to be leading on this. The needs of the population are changing and there needs to be a close partnership between residents, business community and the local council. If everybody does their small bit from each corner it will have a much bigger impact.”


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Forget-me-nots in Purley: how the town became "dementia friendly"

27 Ocak 2017 Cuma

How burnt toast and roast potatoes became linked to cancer

In October 1997, something troubling was happened around the Hallandsås ridge in southwestern Sweden. Farmers had found cows paralysed or dead in their fields, lifeless fish were spotted floating in a local river and workers at a construction site began suffering from nausea and prickling sensations in their fingers.


Suspicion fell on a major construction project to drill a railway tunnel through the ridge. The project had been plagued by leaks and the construction company had resorted to injecting 1,400 tons of a sealant called Rhoca-Gil into tunnel walls. Tests confirmed that the sealant had leaked high levels of a toxic chemical into surrounding ground and surface water. The chemical was acrylamide.


What began as an environmental scandal soon morphed into a public health scare. Professor Margareta Törnqvist, an environmental chemist at Stockholm University, was enlisted to carry out tests on the construction workers, which revealed high levels of acrylamide in their bloodstream. Unexpectedly though, significant levels of the chemical were also present in a control group.


“We realised that if this background signal really was acrylamide it meant that ordinary people are always exposed to acrylamide,” said Törnqvist.


Since the compound is not found in wild animals, processed food was identified as the likely culprit. After discounting beef burgers as the source, Törnqvist and colleagues had discovered that acrylamide is found in highest concentrations in starchy food, like bread and potatoes, when it is cooked at high temperatures.


By 2000, the team had published a study involving rats being fed fried food that concluded that acrylamide consumption “is associated with a considerable cancer risk”.


The resultant public health advice became embroiled in controversy, however (“For me as a scientist it was a bit of a tough period,” Törnqvist recalls). And nearly a decade on, there is a lingering question, never satisfactorily resolved, over whether we should be worried about acrylamide in our diet.


This week, the UK’s Food Standard Agency became the latest regulator to draw consumers’ attention to the issue with its Go for Gold campaign that urges the public to avoid singeing their toast or leaving roast potatoes to char in the oven.


“As a general rule of thumb, aim for a golden yellow colour or lighter when frying, baking, toasting or roasting starchy foods like potatoes, root vegetables and bread,” the FSA recommends. At the same time, it acknowledges: “there is more to know about the true extent of the acrylamide risk.”


Critics of the advice were quick to point out that animal studies linking acrylamide to cancer have used doses so far above the average daily consumption in humans that extrapolating the results is questionable – even assuming the effect is comparable across species.


A person would need to eat 75kg (165lbs) of chips every day for two years, for instance, to be getting the cumulative dose of acrylamide (200 mg/kg daily) used in one rat study that showed the compound could cause DNA damage when it latched on to haemoglobin in the blood.


Törnqvist counters this argument with the observation that, although some chemicals have a minimum threshold concentration below which they are not dangerous at all, this is not the case for DNA-damaging chemicals, known as carcinogens.


“With chemicals that damage DNA it’s a linear dose response, so even the smallest dose contributes to the risk,” she said. “There is no threshold dose for the effect.”


It is partly the lack of any technical lower bound for toxicity, though, that has led to literally hundreds of every day chemicals being classed as carcinogens. The American Cancer Society describes acrylamide as a “probable carcinogen” in a list that also includes hot beverages, working as a hairdresser and insecticides. Short of retreating into a bunker (solar radiation also features), many items do not lend themselves to practical measures to reduce exposure. With acrylamide, at least, agencies can point to the simple step of not burning your toast.


Attempting to establish the existence of the link between a ubiquitous chemical and an incremental cancer risk is a daunting challenge, but there has been no shortage of attempts to do this.


A recent meta-analysis found no evidence of a risk for cancers of the oesophagus, stomach, pancreas, breast, lung and prostate. Again, this does not rule out the existence of a risk, but it does put a very low upper bound on the problem.


David Spiegelhalter, professor for the public understanding of risk at the University of Cambridge, said: “Nobody can put any numbers on acrylamide, but it can’t be that bad. We’d know about it if it was.”


By contrast, Cancer Research UK highlights that around 18,000 cases of cancer each year in the UK are caused by being overweight or obese, and it predicts that alcohol will cause around 135,000 cancer deaths over the next 20 years.


Even if the risk is small – undetectable in a population, even – Törnqvist argues that it is worth acting on.


“Why should [food agencies] bother about a lot of other things with much smaller risk if they don’t bother about acrylamide,” she said. “Shouldn’t we try to protect people from that the best we can?”


There are indications that, on advice from the FSA and other agencies, the food industry has taken the message on board. Between 2007 and 2015, there was an an average 30% reduction in acrylamide across all products in the UK, according to FSA figures.


However, Spiegelhalter argues that, while there may be a good case for issuing industry guidelines, there must be a higher bar for issuing public health warnings. The ultimate outcome of continual vague fear-mongering, he said, is not a society that examines its diet with meticulous and scientific rigour. Instead, other, more pressing health messages are simply diluted.


“People are fed up with continually being given public health advice about what appear to be rather minor issues,” he said. “I don’t believe exercises like this increase people’s trust in science. It just gives people an excuse to ignore what they don’t want to hear.”



How burnt toast and roast potatoes became linked to cancer

15 Ağustos 2016 Pazartesi

How the FDA Became a Drug Company

Under the false pretense of improved food and drug safety the FDA re-invented itself as a kingpin drug company sucking in virtually all members of Congress.


The Bush administration figured out that the fastest way to get the FDA out of the way of Big Pharma’s profits was to appoint FDA critics to key positions, thereby changing the FDA from within.


This began in August of 2001 when Bush appointed Daniel Troy as chief counsel of the FDA, a man best known for defending tobacco companies. Mr. Troy invited Big Pharma to submit cases to him so that the FDA could help Big Pharma defeat citizens who were complaining that drugs and medical devices injured them.


This resulted in legal case precedent that ties up damage claim cases indefinitely and creates “trade secret laws” wherein the FDA claims it is legally obligated to withhold drug risks from the public to protect Big Pharma’s proprietary knowledge.


Then Bush appointed some naive doctor to the number two position at the FDA, even though he was a young and inexperienced physician with no expertise in drug safety — just a major agenda to bring unproven drugs to the market with far less safety or effectiveness testing for the benefits of Wall Street.


Bush’s appointments like this were just warm-ups. His appointment that floored the drug-safety world and sent well-intentioned FDA employees running for cover was the appointment of Andrew von Eschenbach to head the FDA, an appointment that the Senate made permanent in a Lame Duck session.


This resulted in the FDA being headed by a representative of the pharmaceutical and biotech industries.


So, this guy, von Eschenbach, is a founding member of C-Change, short for Cancer Change (originally called The National Dialogue on Cancer) — a group that was created and funded in 1998 by the American Cancer Society.


This group has become a conglomeration of the most powerful players in the cancer treatment industry. Their unstated goal is taking the national cancer agenda away from the public sector and placing it into private for-profit hands.


The group is headed by former President Bush and his wife, Barbara. Until recently von Eschenbach was the vice chairman of the board. Since becoming permanent head of the FDA he relinquished his board position and is now only a member.


Von Eschenbach is an oncologist by trade, a cancer survivor himself, and had a long career running the MD Anderson Cancer Center in Texas. He parlayed his close relationship with the Bushes and cancer-industry players into an appointment to head the National Cancer Institute (January 2002).


And so began the final stages in the transfer of power from public health interests to Big Pharma and Big Biotech..


On February 22, 2002, Diane Feinstein (D-CA), the only Senator that was a member of C-Change, introduced The National Cancer Act of 2002 (S.1976).
While this legislation never became law, it was quite telling as regards the C-Change plan — to shift the national cancer agenda and funding away from the public interest and into the hands of the American Cancer Society, C-Change, and related pharmaceutical companies.


Astonishingly, then director of Health and Human Services Tommy Thompson approved a waiver allowing von Eschenbach to remain vice chairman of C-Change while heading NCI, a dramatic conflict of interest.
Tommy Thompson, like von Eschenbach, is a founding member of C-Change. During the von Eschenbach rein at NCI hundreds of millions of dollars in research grants were channeled to his C-Change friends and away from basic cancer research and public health measures relating to easily preventable cancers.


As head of NCI, von Eschenbach reorganized its administration bringing in a new layer of management spearheaded by the chairperson of the C-Change cancer research team and former biotech CEO, Anna Barker, Ph.D.


Part of this new team included C-Change member Mark Clanton, M.D., as deputy director for cancer care and delivery. This C-Change management team met behind closed doors, setting NCI priorities independent of NCI’s traditional scientific advisors.


Von Eschenbach then funneled NCI money into Big Biotech projects relating to genomic-based cancer research, nanotechnology, proteomics, and the establishment of biomarkers relating to disease and cancer identification.


While such innovative projects are on the one hand admirable, they are quite detached from the real-world issues that cause cancer in many Americans and are in many ways a diversion from what should be done now to realistically help many people not get cancer.


Furthermore, there is no near-term tangible result. The problem for all of this type of research is how to get potential products to the market when the cost for drug development is so high and the FDA has no guidelines as to how these drugs even work or can be monitored for safety.


The FDA “solution” to this problem, announced in March of 2004, was to set up a collaboration with industry to design the next generation of drugs. This plan is called the Critical Path Initiative and it refers to streamlining the path for approval to get new drugs on the market faster with less expense and less testing for safety or effectiveness.


Let me point out that the entire Critical Path Initiative, admirable as it may seem, produced an increase in public health disasters like Vioxx. This is because the FDA (or more specifically von Eschenbach and friends) think the pharmaceutical industry’s problems are all based on a failure to get approval of new drugs fast enough.


In reality, the pharmaceutical industry’s real problem is a failure to get results in the marketplace. When a new drug is approved very little is actually known about how it will perform in the real world.


This problem is complicated by direct to consumer promotion that typically misrepresents the drug, massive off label promotion and use of the drug, and no system that monitors what is really happening with the drug as it is used.


By rushing more drugs onto the market faster, the failure to get results issue will be magnified — and the safeguards proposed in the Senate bill were inadequate and any savings in the cost of bringing a drug to market will be offset by the costs of lawsuits related to damages.


The FDA was trying to “solve” that problem by preventing citizens from suing drug companies when an FDA-approved drug injures or kills. Von Eschenbach and the FDA have pushed forward with this very misguided marketing strategy, which is evident today


In June of 2004 von Eschenbach’s NCI awarded SRI International a long term grant to evaluate the safety and pharmacology of these new biological drug cancer treatments and more related grants have followed.
SRI specializes in cancer biology and toxicology research, as well as helping to patent, license, and spin off inventions into commercial applications.


SRI also does extensive work for the Department of Defense and Homeland Security. Some of SRI’s largest clients besides government are the Rockefeller Foundation, the Ford Foundation, and the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation.


In March of 2005 the FDA announced its first Critical Path collaboration known as the C-Path Institute in Tucson, Arizona. This was a collaboration between the University of Arizona, the FDA, and SRI International.
One of its first projects was the establishment of cardiovascular biomarkers, working in conjunction with the University of Utah. Following this announcement, the governors of the States of Arizona and Utah joined C-Change.


Conflict of interest reached a new level in October of 2005 when President Bush appointed von Eschenbach as temporary head of the FDA, a position he took while maintaining his roles as head of NCI and as vice chairman of the board of C-Change.


Once von Eschenbach took over at the FDA, and eventually gave up his role at NCI, his main priority became promoting the Critical Path Initiative (not food or drug safety).


He worked diligently with Senators Mike Enzi (R-WY) and Edward Kennedy (D-MA) to create a vehicle within the FDA to develop the next generation of biotech drugs. In previous year’s version of this legislation (which never came out of committee), this project was called The Reagan-Udall Institute for Applied Biomedical Research. This legislation would have set up the Institute within the FDA.


In 2006, Kennedy and Enzi tacked this piece of legislation onto required FDA funding, lumping numerous FDA issues into one huge bill (S.1082) and telling everyone it is a safety bill.


Within this new legislation was the creation of the Reagan-Udall Foundation for the FDA, set up as an independent non-profit Foundation that was under the control of the FDA. The Senate fought bitterly over various drug-safety issues unrelated to the Reagan-Udall Foundation, as if these issues acted as a smoke screen to slip past members of the Senate the creation of the Reagan-Udall Foundation for the FDA, the von Eschenbach dream come true.


Not a single Senator raised one concern about the significant safety issues inherent in the Critical Path Initiative/Reagan-Udall Foundation or conflicts of interest when Big Pharma and the FDA worked side by side to develop, patent, and license drugs.


The entire history of von Eschenbach’s relationship with Big Pharma, Big Biotech, and C-Change was conveniently ignored. The issue moved to the House, where the Representatives were as poorly informed as the Senators as to what is actually going on.


Yes, the FDA was going into the drug development business. According to Senate Bill S.1082, the purpose of the Foundation was to advance the mission of the Food and Drug Administration to modernize medical, veterinary, food, food ingredient, and cosmetic product development, accelerate innovation, and enhance product safety.


It would do this by taking into consideration the Critical Path reports and priorities published by the Food and Drug Administration, identify unmet needs in the development, manufacture, and evaluation of the safety and effectiveness, including post-approval, of devices, including diagnostics, biologics, and drugs, and the safety of food, food ingredients, and cosmetics.


The board of directors was composed of four primary members: the Commissioner of the FDA, the Director of the National Institutes of Health, the Director of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, the Director of the Agency for Healthcare Research and Quality.


These members then selected the remaining board members to be composed of 4 representatives from Big Pharma and Big Biotech, 3 representatives from academia (which is funded by Big Pharma), 2 more from the FDA and NIH, 2 from consumers groups, and 1 from health care providers.


This meant that the FDA/Big Pharma/Big Biotech voting block always had 13 votes — to at the most 3. An executive director of the Foundation was appointed by the board and served at the pleasure of the board.


The bill said the Foundation will ensure that “action is taken as necessary to enable the licensing of inventions developed by the Foundation or with funds from the Foundation; and (C) executed licenses, memoranda of understanding, material transfer agreements, contracts, and other such instruments, promote, to the maximum extent practicable, the broadest conversion to commercial and noncommercial applications of licensed and patented inventions of the Foundation.”


Since the Foundation was responding to the needs of the Critical Path Initiative, and that initiative was primarily about the development of new drugs, it was clear that the Foundation wouldl not only help with drug development but it would have significant business relationships as a result.


Do not be confused by the Foundation’s non-profit status, this was simply a useful vehicle that SRI International has used to coordinate collaboration while securing patents and licenses and then spinning off business ventures.


The FDA tried to reduce its legal liability to the federal government by setting up the Regan-Udall Foundation as a non-profit, in case the drugs it helped design injure or kill people. Make no mistake about it, the FDA would be fully in control of the Reagan-Udall Foundation for the FDA. Once this became law by September 30, 2007, we entered a new era with the FDA as a quasi drug company.


It is indeed disturbing that SRI International is intimately involved with the drug development process and has equally extensive connections with Homeland Security and the Defense Department.


It would be far easier to make biological weapons that disrupt gene function than it would be to cure anything, in terms of initial applications of Critical Path technology.


So, this was an international problem that caused an arms race of a new sort, as the Reagan-Udall licensed technology moved out into the world and not only created a generic biotech drug industry but a generic biotech military industry.


On the drug development side von Eschenbach planed to replace clinical trials that showed positive outcomes such as true improvement in the medical condition or improved life expectancy with studies based on biomarkers or surrogate endpoints.


Biomarkers were the sign posts that pointed the way, but do not guarantee that anything positive is actually happening and this concept lowered the safety and effectiveness testing required to get an approval, a key theme of the Critical Path Initiative.


This use of biomarkers, in and of itself, represented a drastic reduction in safety for Americans. One example of this problem was the Avandia scandal, wherein the drug was approved based on its ability to lower blood sugar (a surrogate endpoint or biomarker).


It turned out that the drug does so while increasing the risk for heart failure, heart attack, and mortality.


Over an eight-year period it was turned into a blockbuster drug with sales of 3.2 billion a year. During this time the FDA sat on the known risks and did almost nothing to determine the aftermarket safety of the drug.


The problem was actually exposed by an independent researcher. Based on the previous year’s drug sales and the increased risk for heart attack, it was likely that 35,000 people needlessly died that year alone.


So, how would independent researchers expose problems in the future when all of the advance technology required to evaluate the issue was part of an FDA-controlled monopoly?


Biotech drugs are inherently dangerous as they throw gene switches and powerfully influence functions of the body. This is like having the discovery of matches to light fires and not having any firefighting equipment or technology.


Take the biotech company Amgen, with annual sales of 14.3 billion in 2006, and nearly half that revenue coming from two biotech drugs, Epogen and Aranesp, used in kidney disease.


Aranesp was the blockbuster with 4.1 billion in sales for 2006, and was also used to treat anemia during chemotherapy. Amgen stock and sales were taking a beating because these drugs posed a significant risk for increased death when used, and doctors keep using them in an inappropriate way even though the FDA has warned them not to.


The FDA then scrambled to contain the damage the drug caused without making Amgen look bad. If not, the whole fast track approval of new biotech drugs as envisioned by the Critical Path Initiative and Reagan-Udall Foundation was in jeopardy.


Why, because these Amgen drugs were approved by the FDA based on biomarkers, not based on improved patient outcomes.


So, an FDA Advisory panel was surprised to find how little testing Amgen did to demonstrate these drugs were safe or actually improve the patient’s health and Amgen has a long history of involvement with the American Cancer Society and its fundraising activities.


The question was, will an FDA chief that was beholden to the same circle of friends and a true believer in what Amgen stands for actually be able to objectively regulate the company and protect patients from danger? Or will the profits of the drug company and image of the Critical Path Initiative be more important?


There was a time when a patient walking into the doctor’s office actually had a meaningful conversation. The amount of time spent and the type of lab work or diagnostics performed were not constrained by managed care. To the best of the doctor’s ability, the patient was given personalized care in the best interest of the patient.


Patient centered care was replaced by time constraints, minimized diagnostics, and maximized dispensing of questionable drugs. All of these problems are about to get significantly worse, as we entered the new era of von Eschenbach’s concept of personalized medicine, based on genomics and proteomics.


Then, a flood of new biotech drugs hit the market, resulting in numerous Avandia and Vioxx-like scandals. Congress, with 20-20 hindsight, held hearings that resulted in legislation to improve safety.


Von Eschenbach told Congress that the fault is not the drugs. Rather, it is the inability to personalize those drugs to specific patients that is the problem.


Von Eschenbach would love to say that eternally, but he knows he doesn’t have the technology ready to implement the plan as he would in five years.


So, he was willing to put the lives of hundreds of thousands of innocent Americans in jeopardy by exposure to barely tested biotech drugs and recklessly push forward with his Critical Path Initiative plan.


The Von Eschenbach solution was to evaluate the blood of every patient taking the drug with the FDA’s sophisticated biomarker software. The FDA had already developed the early stages of this software and would continue to perfect its new system of medicine over the next decade.


Making a long story short, in order to receive medical care your blood would be evaluated by an FDA-controlled super computer, your genes would be profiled, your genetic weaknesses would be part of your medical record, and you would have an RFID chip in your arm storing your complex biological medical records, tracking your vital signs, and monitoring your whereabouts.


If doctors think they have it bad now just wait until they become slaves to the FDA computer’s directions and drug prescriptions — which will no doubt be the latest and most expensive biotech drug experiment
The FDA knew that most of its Critical Path technology was years from practical application, and it was confronted by the problem of maintaining funding while not much is happening.


One aspect of this technology was very advanced toxicology tools, tools required for the development of new drugs. In January of that year the FDA issued a press release saying they wanted to use Critical Path science to develop tools to assist with their regular FDA duties:


Scientific advances held the potential to improve the tools FDA used to evaluate the safety and efficacy of human and veterinary products as well as the safety and nutrition of food and food ingredients (e.g., new rapid tests for biological and chemical contamination of animal-derived foods, technologies for detecting and mitigating the microbial contamination of food, analysis technologies for assessing the safety and nutritive value of foods and food ingredients).


While any person that was in favor of the FDA being able to better identify contamination in food, such as infectious E.coli, assessing the safety of food and food ingredients was an entirely different matter. Similar language had been written into S.1082 in the section on the Reagan-Udall Foundation for the FDA, meaning the FDA was seeking to have it written into law where it could use Critical Path toxicology assessment to determine the safety of food ingredients (i.e., dietary supplements). This became the vehicle for the FDA to be able to remove any dietary supplement it desired from the market at its whim.


The supplements most likely to be removed were those that competed with Big Pharma and Big Biotech drugs, especially those drugs produced by the Reagan-Udall Foundation itself. S.1082 already contained the troublesome wording.


The battle then moved to the House where it was vital to get an amendment into this legislation that would protect dietary supplements without interfering with the FDA’s ability to identify true food contamination problems. That amendment has been prepared by Jonathan Emord, the nation’s top health freedom attorney.


protect consumers from having dietary supplements evaluated using drug-related risk benefit analysis. In addition to the Emord amendment it will be essential to protect ourselves from the FDA’s internal conflicts of interest that pervade the agency.


As things are now the FDA was more concerned about looking good and protecting its image than it was about drug safety or allowing unfettered access to safe and effective forms of natural health options.


Alternative therapies and dietary supplements are the true competition to the FDA’s Big Pharma and Big Biotech medical model it was seeking to cram down the throats of all Americans


Well, here we are in 2016, and it’s worse. Keep people sick at all costs to keep the profits coming in.


Source: Byron Richards: Wellness Resources


P.S. Adding insult to injury, Nostradamus said our black President would be our last President. The word on the street is that Hillary gets elected, Is then arrested and indicted by the FBI for her crimes before she is sworn in, Obama stays in office for another four years, and the Constitution bites the dust.


To learn more about Hesh, listen to and read hundreds of health related radio shows and articles, and learn about how to stay healthy and reverse degenerative diseases through the use of organic sulfur crystals and the most incredible bee pollen ever, please visit www.healthtalkhawaii.com, or email me at heshgoldstein@gmail.com or call me at (808) 258-1177. Since going on the radio in 1981 these are the only products I began to sell because they work.
Oh yeah, going to www.asanediet.com will allow you to read various parts of my book – “A Sane Diet For An Insane World”, containing a wonderful comment by Mike Adams.
In Hawaii, the TV stations interview local authors about the books they write and the newspapers all do book reviews. Not one would touch “A Sane Diet For An Insane World”. Why? Because it goes against their advertising dollars.



How the FDA Became a Drug Company

11 Ağustos 2016 Perşembe

How the World Bank’s biggest critic became its president | Andrew Rice

In a shanty town perched in the hilly outskirts of Lima, Peru, people were dying. It was 1994, and thousands of squatters – many of them rural migrants who had fled their country’s Maoist guerrilla insurgency – were crammed into unventilated hovels, living without basic sanitation. They faced outbreaks of cholera and other infectious diseases, but a government austerity program, which had slashed subsidised health care, forced many to forgo medical treatment they couldn’t afford. When food ran short, they formed ad hoc collectives to stave off starvation. A Catholic priest ministering to a parish in the slum went looking for help, and he found it in Jim Yong Kim, an idealistic Korean-American physician and anthropologist.


In his mid-30s and a recent graduate of Harvard Medical School, Kim had helped found Partners in Health, a non-profit organisation whose mission was to bring modern medicine to the world’s poor. The priest had been involved with the group in Boston, its home base, before serving in Peru, and he asked Kim to help him set up a clinic to aid his flock. No sooner had Kim arrived in Lima, however, than the priest contracted a drug-resistant form of tuberculosis and died.


Kim was devastated, and he thought he knew what to blame: the World Bank. Like many debt-ridden nations, Peru was going through “structural adjustment”, a period of lender-mandated inflation controls, privatisations and government cutbacks. President Alberto Fujimori had enacted strict policies, known collectively as “Fujishock”, that made him a darling of neoliberal economists. But Kim saw calamitous trickledown effects, including the tuberculosis epidemic that had claimed his friend and threatened to spread through the parish.


So Kim helped organise a conference in Lima that was staged like a teach-in. Hundreds of shanty town residents met development experts and vented their anger with the World Bank. “We talked about the privatisation of everything: profits and also suffering,” Kim recalls. “The argument we were trying to make is that investment in human beings should not be cast aside in the name of GDP growth.” Over the next half-decade, he would become a vociferous critic of the World Bank, even calling for its abolition. In a 2000 book, Dying for Growth, he was lead author of an essay attacking the “capriciousness” of international development policies. “The penalties for failure,” he concluded, “have been borne by the poor, the infirm and the vulnerable in poor countries that accepted the experts’ designs.”


Kim often tells this story today, with an air of playful irony, when he introduces himself – as the president of the World Bank. “I was actually out protesting and trying to shut down the World Bank,” Kim said one March afternoon, addressing a conference in Maryland’s National Harbor complex. “I’m very glad we lost that argument.”



Medical staff treat people with Ebola in Kailahun, Sierra Leone, 2014.


Medical staff treat people with Ebola in Kailahun, Sierra Leone, 2014. Photograph: Carl de Souza/AFP/Getty Images

The line always gets a laugh, but Kim uses it to illustrate a broader story of evolution. As he dispenses billions of development dollars and tees off at golf outings with Barack Obama – the US president has confessed jealousy of his impressive five handicap – Kim is a long way from Peru. The institution he leads has changed too. Structural adjustment, for one, has been phased out, and Kim says the bank can be a force for good. Yet he believes it is only just awakening to its potential – and at a precarious moment.


Last year, the percentage of people living in extreme poverty dropped below 10% for the first time. That’s great news for the world, but it leaves the World Bank somewhat adrift. Many former dependents, such as India, have outgrown their reliance on financing. Others, namely China, have become lenders in their own right. “What is the relevance of the World Bank?” Kim asked me in a recent interview. “I think that is an entirely legitimate question.”


Kim believes he has the existential answers. During his four years at the bank’s monumental headquarters on H Street in Washington, he has reorganised the 15,000-strong workforce to reflect a shift from managing country portfolios to tackling regional and global crises. He has redirected large portions of the bank’s resources (it issued more than $ 61bn in loans and other forms of funding last year) toward goals that fall outside its traditional mandate of encouraging growth by financing infrastructure projects – stemming climate change, stopping Ebola, addressing the conditions driving the Syrian exodus.


Yet many bank employees see Kim’s ambitions as presumptuous, even reckless, and changes undertaken to revitalise a sluggish bureaucracy have shaken it. There have been protests and purges, and critics say Kim’s habit of enunciating grandiose aspirations comes with a tendency toward autocracy. The former bank foe now stands accused of being an invasive agent, inflicting his own form of shock therapy on his staff. “The wrong changes have been done badly,” says Lant Pritchett, a former World Bank economist.


Pritchett argues that, beyond issues of personality and style, Kim’s presidency has exposed a deep ideological rift between national development, which emphasises institution-building and growth, and what Pritchett terms “humane” development, or alleviating immediate suffering. Kim, however, sees no sharp distinction: he contends that humane development is national development – and if the bank persists in believing otherwise, it could be doomed to obsolescence.




The hardest thing to learn is mud-between-your-toes, on-the-ground development work


Jim Yong Kim


Kim likes to say that as a doctor with experience of treating the poor, his humanitarian outlook is his strongest qualification for his job – an opinion that probably vexes critics who point out that he knew little about lending before arriving at the bank. “Finance and macroeconomics are complicated, but you can actually learn them,” he says. “The hardest thing to learn is mud-between-your-toes, on-the-ground development work. You can’t learn that quickly. You can’t learn that through trips where you’re treated like a head of state. You have to have kind of done that before.”



Kim talks fast and he walks fast. Following him – a lithe, balding 56-year-old surrounded by a deferential, suited entourage – you can easily imagine him in a white coat as a physician making his rounds. He has a doctor’s diagnostic mindset too; he talks about ascertaining “the problem”, or what public-health experts call the “cause of the causes”. He thinks of poverty as an ailment and is trying to devise a “science of delivery”. It’s a philosophy built on a life-long interest in the intersection of science and humanities. Born in Seoul in 1959 to parents displaced by the Korean war, Kim emigrated to the US with his family when he was a child, eventually ending up in Muscatine, Iowa. His was one of two Asian families in the small town. His mother was an expert in Confucian philosophy, his father a dentist. Kim excelled at his studies while playing quarterback in high school. He attended Brown University in Providence, Rhode Island, where he studied human biology. His father wanted him to be a doctor, but he gravitated toward anthropology. Because Harvard let him pursue a medical degree and a PhD simultaneously, he landed there. Kim struck up a friendship with Paul Farmer, a fellow student, over shared interests in health and justice. In 1987, they formed Partners in Health.


The two came of age when the World Bank’s influence was arguably at its most powerful and controversial. Conceived along with the International Monetary Fund at the 1944 Bretton Woods conference, the bank was meant to rebuild Europe. However, it found its central mission as a source of startup capital for states emerging from the demise of colonial empires. The bank could borrow money cheaply in the global markets, thanks to the creditworthiness of its shareholders (the largest being the US government), then use that money to finance the prerequisites for economic growth – things such as roads, schools, hospitals and power plants. Structural adjustment came about in response to a series of debt crises that culminated in the 1980s. The Bretton Woods institutions agreed to bail out indebted developing states if they tightened their belts and submitted to painful fiscal reforms.



A wall dividing shanty towns and rich neighbourhoods in Lima, Peru, where Kim’s journey to the World Bank began.


A wall dividing shanty towns and rich neighbourhoods in Lima, Peru, where Kim’s journey to the World Bank began. Photograph: Oxfam/EPA

To Kim and Farmer, the moral flaw in the bank’s approach was that it imposed mandates with little concern for how cutting budgets might affect people’s health. They thought that “the problem” in global health was economic inequality, and in Haiti Partners in Health pioneered a grassroots methodology to tackle it: improve the lives of communities by training locals to provide medical care (thus creating jobs) and by expanding access to food, sanitation and other basic necessities. Though hardly insurgents – they were based at Harvard, after all – the friends passionately argued that policy discussions in Geneva and Washington needed to be informed by ground truths, delivered by the people living them.


Farmer’s impressive work ethic and pious demeanour made him famous – and the subject of Tracy Kidder’s acclaimed book Mountains Beyond Mountains – but Kim was the partner with systemic ambitions. “For Paul, the question is, ‘What does it take to solve the problem of giving the best care in the world to my patients?’” Kim says. “But he doesn’t spend all his time thinking about, ‘So how do you take that to scale in 188 countries?’” (Both men, who remain close friends, have won MacArthur Foundation “genius grants” for their work.)


Kim’s desire to shape policy landed him at the World Health Organisation (WHO) in 2003, overseeing its HIV/Aids work. The job required him to relocate to Geneva with his wife – a paediatrician he had met at Harvard – and a son who was just a toddler. (They now have two children, aged 16 and seven.) In the vigorously assertive style that would become his hallmark – going where he wants to go even if he’s not sure how to get there – Kim pledged to meet an audacious goal: treating three million people in the developing world with antiretroviral drugs by 2005, a more than sixfold increase over just two years. The strategy, in Kim’s own words, was, “Push, push, push.” The “three-by-five pledge,” as it was known, ended up being impossible to reach, and Kim publicly apologised for the failure on the BBC. But the world got there in 2007 – a direct result, Kim says, of the pledge’s impact on global-health policymaking: “You have to set a really difficult target and then have that really difficult target change the way you do your work.”


Kim left the WHO in 2006. After a stopover at Harvard, where he headed a centre for health and human rights, he was hired to be president of Dartmouth College in New Hampshire. He arrived in 2009, with little university management experience but characteristically high hopes. With the global recession at its zenith, however, Kim was forced to spend much of his time focused on saving Dartmouth’s endowment.


He hardly knew the difference between hedge funds and private equity, so a venture capitalist on the college’s board would drive up from Boston periodically to give him lessons, scribbling out basic financial concepts on a whiteboard or scratch paper. His tenure soon turned stormy as he proposed slashing $ 100m from the school’s budget and clashed with faculty members who complained about a lack of transparency. Joe Asch, a Dartmouth alumnus who writes for a widely read blog about the university, was highly critical of Kim. “He is a man who is very concerned about optics and not so concerned about follow-through,” Asch says now. “Everyone’s sense was that he was just there to punch his ticket.” Soon enough, a surprising opportunity arose.


The way Kim tells it, the call came out of the blue one Monday in March 2012. Timothy Geithner, another Dartmouth alumnus who was then the US treasury secretary, was on the line asking about Kim’s old nemesis. “Jim,” Geithner asked, “would you consider being president of the World Bank?”



When the government contacted him, Kim confesses, he had only the foggiest notion of how development finance worked. He had seen enough in his career, however, to know that running the bank would give him resources he scarcely could have imagined during his years of aid work. Instead of agonising over every drop of water in the budgetary bathtub, he could operate a global tap. “When I really saw what it meant to be a bank with a balance sheet, with a mission to end extreme poverty,” Kim says, “it’s like, wow.” His interest was bolstered by the bank’s adoption, partly in response to 1990s-era activists, of stringent “safeguards”, or lending rules intended to protect human rights and the environment in client states.



Barack Obama and Jim Yong Kim


Barack Obama nominates Kim for the presidency of the World Bank, Washington DC, 2012. Photograph: Charles Dharapak/AP

By custom, the World Bank had always been run by an American, nominated by the US president for a five-year term. But in 2012 there was a real international race for the post. Some emerging-market nations questioned deference to the United States, and finance experts from Nigeria and Colombia announced their candidacies. After considering political heavyweights such as Susan Rice, John Kerry and Hillary Clinton – who were all more interested in other jobs – Obama decided he needed an American he could present as an outsider to replace the outgoing president, Robert Zoellick, a colourless former Goldman Sachs banker and Republican trade negotiator. Clinton suggested Kim and “championed Jim as a candidate”, says Farmer. (Partners in Health works with the Clinton Foundation.)


Embedded within the dispute over superpower prerogatives was a larger anxiety about what role the World Bank should play in the 21st century. Extreme poverty had dropped from 37% in 1990 to just under 13% in 2012, so fewer countries needed the bank’s help. With interest rates at record lows, the states that needed aid had more options for borrowing cheap capital, often without paternalistic ethical dictates. New competitors, such as investment banks, were concerned mainly with profits, not safeguards. As a result, whereas the World Bank had once enjoyed a virtual monopoly on the development-finance market, by 2012 its lending represented only about 5% of aggregate private-capital flows to the developing world, according to Martin Ravallion, a Georgetown University economist. And while the bank possessed a wealth of data, technical expertise and analytical capabilities, it was hampered by red tape. One top executive kept a chart in her office illustrating the loan process, which looked like a tangle of spaghetti.


At Kim’s White House interview, Obama still needed some convincing that the global-health expert could take on the task of reinvigorating the bank. When asked what qualified him over candidates with backgrounds in finance, Kim cited Obama’s mother’s anthropology dissertation, about Indonesian artisans threatened by globalisation, to argue that there was no substitute for on-the-ground knowledge of economic policies’ impact. Two days later, Obama unveiled his pick, declaring that it was “time for a development professional to lead the world’s largest development agency”.


Kim campaigned for the job with the zeal of a convert. In an interview with the New York Times, he praised the fact that, unlike in the 1990s, “now the notion of pro-poor development is at the core of the World Bank”. He also embarked on an international “listening tour” to meet heads of state and finance ministers, gathering ideas to shape his priorities in office. Because votes on the bank’s board are apportioned according to shareholding, the US holds the greatest sway, and Obama’s candidate was easily elected. Kim took office in July 2012, with plans to eradicate extreme poverty. Farmer cites a motto carved at the entry to the World Bank headquarters – “Our dream is a world free of poverty” – that activists such as Kim once sniggered at. “Jim said, ‘Let’s change it from a dream to a plan, and then we don’t have to mock it.’”



Kim still had to win over another powerful constituency: his staff. Bank experts consider themselves an elite fraternity. Presidents and their mission statements may come and go, but the institutional culture remains largely impervious. “The bank staff,” says Jim Adams, a former senior manager, “has never fully accepted the governance.” When Robert McNamara expanded the bank’s mission in the late 1960s, doing things such as sending helicopters to spray the African black fly larvae that spread river blindness, many staffers were “deeply distressed to see the institution ‘running off in all directions’”, according to a history published in 1973. When James Wolfensohn arrived in the mid-1990s with plans to move away from structural adjustment and remake the bank like a consulting firm, employees aired their gripes in the press. “Shake-up or cock-up?” asked an Economist headline. Paul Wolfowitz, whose presidency was marred by leaks, was pushed out in 2007 after accusations of cronyism resulted in a damning internal investigation.


Recognising this fraught history, Kim went on a second listening tour: he met representatives of every bank department and obtained what he describes, in anthropologist-speak, as “almost a formal ethnography” of the place. What he lacked in economic knowledge, he made up for in charm. “Dr Kim is personable, Dr Kim is articulate, Dr Kim looks very moved by what he has to say,” says Paul Cadario, a former bank executive who is now a professor at the University of Toronto.



The funeral of a woman who died of Aids on the outskirts of Kigali, Rwanda.


The funeral of a woman who died of Aids on the outskirts of Kigali, Rwanda. Photograph: Sean Smith for the Guardian

The initial goodwill, however, vanished when Kim announced his own structural adjustment: a top-to-bottom reorganisation of the bank. It wasn’t so much the idea of change that riled up the staff. Even before Kim took office, respected voices were calling for a shakeup. In 2012, a group of bank alumni published a report criticising an “archaic management structure”; low morale was causing staff turnover, and there was an overreliance on consultants, promotion on the basis of nationality, and a “Balkanisation of expertise”. Where Kim went awry, opponents say, was in imposing his will without first garnering political support. “One famous statement is that the World Bank is a big village,” says Cadario, now a Kim critic. “And if you live in a village, it is a really bad idea to have enemies.”


The bank had been designed around the idea that local needs, assessed by staff assigned to particular countries and regions, should dictate funding; cooperation across geographical lines required internal wrangling over resources. So Kim decided to dismantle existing networks. He brought in the management consulting firm McKinsey & Co, which recommended regrouping the staff into 14 “global practices”, each of which would focus on a policy area, such as trade, agriculture or water. Kim hired outsiders to lead some departments and pushed out several formerly powerful officials with little explanation. To symbolise that he was knocking down old walls, he had a palatial, wood-panelled space on the World Bank’s executive floor retrofitted as a Silicon Valley-style open-plan office, where he could work alongside his top staff.


Kim also announced that he would cut $ 400m in administrative expenses, and eliminate about 500 jobs – a necessary measure, he said, because low interest rates were cutting into the bank’s profits. Kim says he “made a very conscious decision to let anyone who wanted… air their grievances.” His opponents detected no such tolerance, however, and their criticisms turned ad hominem. Around Halloween in 2014, a satirical newsletter circulated among the staff, depicting Kim as Dr Frankenstein: “Taking random pieces from dead change management theories,” it read, “he and his band of external consultants cobble together an unholy creature resembling no development bank ever seen before.” Anonymous fliers attacking Kim also began to appear around bank headquarters.


Kim portrayed internal dissent as a petty reaction to perks such as travel per diems being cut. “There’s grumbling about parking and there’s grumbling about breakfast,” he told the Economist. Meanwhile, bank staffers whispered about imperial indulgences on Kim’s part, such as chartering a private jet. (Kim claims this is a longstanding practice among bank presidents, which he only uses when there are no other options.)


A French country officer named Fabrice Houdart emerged as a lead dissenter, broadcasting his frustrations with Kim in a blog on the World Bank’s intranet. In one post, he questioned whether “a frantic race to show savings… might lead to irreversible long-term damages to the institution.” (This being the World Bank, his sedition was often illustrated with charts and statistics.) The staff went into open rebellion after Houdart revealed that Bertrand Badré, the chief financial officer, whom Kim had hired and who was in charge of cutting budgets, had received a nearly $ 100,000 bonus on top of his $ 379,000 salary. Kim addressed a raucous town hall meeting in October 2014, where he told furious staffers, “I am just as tired of the change process as all of you are.”


A few months later, Houdart was demoted after being investigated for leaking a privileged document. The alleged disclosure was unrelated to Kim’s reorganisation – it had to do with Houdart’s human rights advocacy, for which he was well known at the bank – and Kim says the investigation began before Houdart’s denunciations of his presidency. Critics, however, portray it as retaliatory. “Fabrice has become a folk hero,” Cadario says, “because he was brave enough to say what many of the people within the bank are thinking.” (Houdart is currently disputing his demotion before an internal administrative tribunal.)




In the heat of the staff revolt, Kim was devoting attention to a very different crisis: Ebola




“It’s never fun when large parts of the organisation are criticising you personally,” Kim admits. Yet he maintains that his tough decisions were necessary. “In order to do a real change, you have to put jobs at risk,” he says. “And completely understandably, people hate that.”



In the heat of the staff revolt, Kim was devoting attention to a very different crisis: Ebola. In contrast with the bank’s historically cautious, analytical approach, Kim was pushing it to become more involved in emergency response. He committed $ 400m to confront the epidemic immediately, a quarter of which he pushed out in just nine days. He dispatched bank employees to afflicted west African countries and reproached the head of the WHO for the organisation’s lack of urgency. “Rather than being tied up in bureaucracy, or saying, ‘We don’t do those things,’ Jim is saying that if poor people’s lives are at risk… then it is our business,” says Tim Evans, whom Kim hired to run the bank’s new global practice for health.


Some bank veterans disagreed, vehemently. Nearly two years on, they still worry that in trying to save the day, Kim runs the risk of diverting the bank from its distinct mission. “Pandemic response is important – but it’s not the WHO, it’s the World Bank,” says Jean-Louis Sarbib, a former senior vice-president who now runs a nonprofit development consultancy. “I don’t think he understands the World Bank is not a very large NGO.” Referencing Kim’s work with Partners in Health, Sarbib adds, “The work of the World Bank is to create a system so that he doesn’t need to come and create a clinic in Haiti.”


In reply to this critique, Kim likes to cite a study co-written by a former World Bank economist, Larry Summers, that found that 24% of full-income growth in developing countries between 2000 and 2011 was attributable to improved public health. Put simply, Kim says, pandemics and other health deficits represent enormous threats to economic development, so they should be the World Bank’s business. The same goes for climate change, which the bank is fighting by funding a UN initiative to expand sustainable energy. As for violent conflicts, rather than waiting until the shooting has stopped and painstakingly preparing a post-conflict assessment – as the bank has done in the past – Kim wants to risk more capital in insecure zones.


“We… bought into this notion that development is something that happens after the humanitarian crisis is over,” Kim said at a recent event called the Fragility Forum, where he sat next to representatives of various aid groups and the president of the Central African Republic in the World Bank’s sun-soaked atrium. “We are no longer thinking that way.”


After the forum, amid a whirlwind day of meetings and speeches, Kim stopped at a hotel cafe with me to unwind for a few minutes. As a counterweight to his life’s demands, he practices Korean Zen-style meditation, but he also seems to blow off steam by brainstorming aloud. Goals and promises came pouring out of him like a gusher. Besides eliminating extreme poverty, which he has now promised will be done by 2030, Kim wants to raise incomes among the bottom 40% of the population in every country. He also wants to achieve universal access to banking services by 2020.


Long past our allotted interview time, Kim told me he had just one more idea: “Another huge issue that I want to bring to the table is childhood stunting.” At the Davos World Economic Forum this year, he explained, everyone was chattering about a “fourth industrial revolution”, which will centre on artificial intelligence, robotics and other technological leaps. But Kim thinks whole countries are starting out with a brainpower deficit because of childhood malnutrition. “These kids have fewer – literally fewer – neuronal connections than their non-stunted classmates,” he said. “For every inch that you’re below the average height, you lose 2% of your income.”


“This is fundamentally an economic issue,” he continued. “We need to invest in grey-matter infrastructure. Neuronal infrastructure is quite possibly going to be the most important infrastructure.”



To World Bank traditionalists, addressing nutrition is an example of the sort of mission creep that makes Kim so maddening. Despite its name and capital, the bank can’t be expected to solve all the world’s humanitarian problems. (“We are not the UN,” is an informal mantra among some staffers.) Poor countries may well prefer the bank to stick to gritty infrastructural necessities, even if Kim and his supporters have splashier goals. “The interests of its rich-country constituencies and its poor-country borrowers are diverging,” Pritchett says. “It’s like the bank has a foot on two boats. Sooner or later, it’s going to have to jump on one boat or the other, or fall in the water. So far, Jim Kim is just doing the splits.”



The World Bank headquarters in Washington.


The World Bank headquarters in Washington. Photograph: Lauren Burke/AP

Kim’s defenders insist the bank hasn’t abandoned its core business. In fact, as private investment in emerging markets has contracted recently, due to instability in once-booming economies such as Brazil, countries have found more reasons to turn to the World Bank. Its primary lending unit committed $ 29.7bn in loans this fiscal year, nearly doubling the amount from four years earlier. “There is so much need in the world that I’m not worried we’re going to run out of projects to finance,” Kim says. He also hopes the worst of the tumult within the bank is over. A few elements of his reorganisation have been scaled back; after the new administrative structure proved unwieldy, the 14 global practices were regrouped into three divisions. Some of his more polarising hires have also left.


A five-year term, Kim says, is hardly sufficient to implement his entire agenda, and he has conveyed his desire to be reappointed in 2017. Though internal controversies have been damaging, and America’s domination of the bank remains a source of tension, the next US president (quite possibly Kim’s friend Hillary Clinton) will have a strong say in the matter. If he keeps his job, Kim wants to show that the World Bank can serve as a link between great powers and small ones, between economics and aid work – retaining its influence as old rules and boundaries are erased and new ones are scribbled into place.


Kim thinks he can succeed, so long as he keeps one foot rooted in his experiences as a doctor with mud between his toes. But he also wants to share his revelations about capital with his old comrades. “I really feel a responsibility to have this conversation with development actors who, like me 10 years ago, didn’t really understand the power of leverage,” Kim says with a guileless air.


“God,” he adds, “it is just such a powerful tool.”


This article first appeared in Foreign Policy magazine.


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How the World Bank’s biggest critic became its president | Andrew Rice