(Quelle:
http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/side-effects/201207/drug-trials-and-data-based-medicine-interview-david-healy)
Dr. David Healy is an internationally renowned psychiatrist, psychopharmacologist, scientist, and author. A professor of
Psychiatry in Wales and former Secretary of the British Association for
Psychopharmacology, he is the author of more than 150 peer-reviewed articles and 20 books, including
The Antidepressant Era and
The Creation of Psychopharmacology, from Harvard University Press;
Let Them Eat Prozac from New York University Press;
Mania: A Short History of Bipolar Disorder from the Johns Hopkins University Press; and, most recently,
Pharmageddon, from
the University of California Press. He was responsible for submitting
the key document that led to New York State's successful fraud action
against GlaxoSmithKline, a key plank in the Department of Justice's
recent case against the drug-maker.
David, thanks for answering a few questions about your latest work. With a team of other medical specialists you recently launched a new website, RxISK, that provides a wealth of user-friendly drug-related information for doctors and patients. What distinguishes RxISK from other sites listing medical information and what were some of your aims in launching it?
Chris,
we’re trying to provide much-better descriptions of drug-related side
effects, including by getting patients and doctors to work as teams and
by using a series of causality algorithms that help establish when
there’s a link between a treatment and a problem.
Other sites
providing medical information tend to offer one of two things: either
they summarize clinical trials, most of which are ghostwritten and where
the complete data are unavailable, or they list adverse event data from
agencies like the FDA, which is of poor quality and increasingly
regarded as anecdotal. Regulators and academics now have a track-record
of acknowledging significant hazards on drugs 10-20 years after patients
and others first draw attention to them. The reason that happens
is because agencies like the FDA have degraded adverse event reporting.
I
expect we’ll get reports from people like you and your readers
outlining a new problem on some new drug that clears when the drug is
stopped and maybe reappears if it’s restarted. Companies and academics
will then scream blue murder—this is just anecdotal.
My response
will be to ask whether that report is more or less likely to be correct
than clinical trial data run by companies whose data are hidden, and
where the patients sometimes don’t even exist. Even where the data prove
beyond doubt that the drug causes the problem, academics unfortunately
will still line up to deny that the drug could cause it.
You’ve written on your blog
that “evidence-based medicine and RCTs [random controlled trials] are
supposed to help us control the pharmaceutical industry.” Yet “RCTs are simply not the answer to determining cause and effect,” you go on to say, because they’re “quite likely to hide rather than reveal a problem
like antidepressant induced suicidality.” As one of the first
researchers to draw attention to the now well-publicized
suicide-inducing side effects of many antidepressants, you’re clearly in
a position to answer: how in fact do RCTs hide such information?
There
are a few ways that RCTs can hide effects. First, the process doesn’t
encourage anyone to look closely at particular things that happen on a
drug—the focus is instead on the group and on average effects. That’s
true of all trials. In company trials there are more specific problems
like miscoding, where suicidality becomes “nausea” or “emotional
lability” or even “treatment non-responsiveness.” There is also the
problem of mislocation—patients on
placebo end up being given problems they never had—and of nonexistent patients, who don’t of course have adverse events.
Beyond
that, there are more sophisticated tricks that companies can and do
play—such as claiming that increased rates of a problem on a drug are
not really evidence of an increase in rates if the data are not
statistically significant. In this way, companies have hidden many more
heart attacks on Vioxx and Avandia or
suicidal acts on SSRIs than have been hidden by miscoding or mislocation.
Isn’t what you’re describing tantamount to fraud? I’m all in
favor of clinical trials—if done right, wouldn’t they give us the
correct answer?
Actually no, when it comes to adverse events, trials almost never get the right answer.
Let’s
assume in a trial that we have 3,000 depressed patients on Paxil who
had 10 suicidal acts and 1,750 on placebo who had 0 suicidal acts. Paxil
clearly causes suicidal acts here. Now let’s take 200 depressive
personality disorder
patients on Paxil who have 30 suicidal acts and 200 depressive
personality disorder patients on placebo who have 25 suicidal
acts—again, that’s an increased rate of suicidal acts on Paxil. But add
these two increases together and you end up with a reduced rate of
suicidal acts on the SSRI compared to placebo—40 suicidal acts in 3,200
patients is less than 25 in 1,950.
Hey presto—problem gone.
Exactly the same thing can happen in every clinical trial where we don’t
fully understand the condition we’re treating—which is, frankly, most
conditions from back pain to diabetes to psychosis. We mix patients who
superficially appear the same but who in fact have different conditions.
That is just one trick that no-one ever mentions—I’ve laid out several more on
davidhealy.org.
Is there any way to overcome such tricks and masking problems?
Yes,
actually, there is. One way is to do trials in healthy volunteers—these
are the true drug trials. Companies do these but rarely publish them.
There’s no register of these trials and no data are made available,
though there’s no issue of clinical confidentiality involved. Given that
these trials tell us so much—10 years before Zoloft came on the market,
for instance, they indicated that the drug made healthy volunteers
suicidal—it’s a huge scandal that these data in particular are buried.
Speaking out against trials won’t of course make you popular.
It certainly doesn’t. But the most painful thing of all is it puts me at odds with almost everyone who
should
be a natural ally: those who are committed to Evidence-Based Medicine,
some of whom agree with what is being said, or who even claim that I am
saying nothing new, but who really don’t want to see RCTs questioned in
public and can get unpleasantly angry when they are.
Is there a chance that RxISK will represent data from other countries, to establish a truly global perspective on adverse effects from medication?
Absolutely—
RxISK will
have data from every country under the sun and will also breakdown the
data by locality so, for instance, people in Chicago will be able to see
what side effects are being reported on which drug in their area. This
may well be of interest to journalists who want local stories—if in this
case a large urban area can be called local.
You’ll also be able
to follow your side effect across time—how common it becomes, where it’s
being reported most, who gets it—men, women, young, old, etc. Given the
input of hundreds of thousands of people following these things, I
expect the
visualization involved will help researchers come up with good ideas about what might actually be going on.
RxISK dovetails with—indeed, is clearly a practical extension of—the argument of your latest book Pharmageddon, that medicine has become increasingly “pharmaceuticalized” since the 1950s—oriented to fierce marketing
campaigns that cherry-pick data, overhyph the overall benefits of
drugs, and mask their very real hazards. This is obviously a timely
argument in the States right now, with the Supreme Court’s decision on
the Affordable Care Act and the debate about how to trim costs without
affecting care. What (beyond your new site) are some of your
recommendations for reforming healthcare and improving drug safety?
Well, the website is a bottom-up approach, a wisdom-of-crowds or bidet approach.
There
are also top-down or shower approaches that could help. Our current
problems stem tragically, in the proper sense of that word, from a
system we put in place 50 years ago, following the thalidomide disaster,
in an attempt to prevent such a problem happening again.
There
are three components to the system—the patent status of drugs; the
prescription-only status of drugs; and the issue of demonstrating
efficacy through controlled trials. All need review to see whether some
tweak to the system might produce better results than we are getting
now.
Despite recent congressional attempts to create
greater transparency over pharmaceutical decisions, such as Sen. Chuck
Grassley’s Sunshine Act, you clearly are skeptical in the book that
they’ve had much good effect as reforms. Part of the problem is clearly
the FDA’s reliance on RCTs and a presumption that, as you put it, “takes
for granted that data don’t lie.” What’s wrong, in your opinion, with
the way the FDA currently interprets data?
Well, let’s run a thought-experiment and bring alcohol or
nicotine on the market as antidepressants.
To
do this, we don’t have to show lives saved or people returning to
work—we only have to show a change in score on rating scales that may be
sensitive to the anxiolytic or
sedative effects of alcohol.
Next,
we need do only a few studies in which alcohol beats placebo on our
rating scale. If in most of our studies it doesn’t beat placebo, then
these are discounted and FDA is happy for us to conceal that.
In
our trials, placebo might account for 80-90% of the effect of alcohol
but the FDA is fine with us leaving the public with the impression that
100% of the apparent benefits of alcohol for depression stem from the
alcohol, with no contribution from placebo.
Better again, we can
outsource our studies. Let’s say in our key study that alcohol proves no
better than placebo in 30 U.S. centers, but is dramatically better than
placebo in 2 Mexican centers, so, when added to the mix, alcohol
marginally beats placebo. The FDA let’s us do this and the published
article will make no mention that alcohol only works in Mexico.
What about side effects—could the FDA do more to improve drug safety?
The
FDA couldn’t do worse. Our alcohol studies only have to last
six-to-eight weeks and, as most of us know, few of the problems that
might be expected from alcohol emerge in a six-to-eight week period.
If
there’s any hint of liver problems in our trial, the FDA and academia
are likely to attribute that to the depression for which the person is
being treated. Even though the entire medical literature up till then
might not have a scrap of evidence that
depression causes
liver dysfunction, within weeks companies have the ability to get a
significant proportion of the medical profession to agree that it’s
well-known that depression causes liver dysfunction.
Something
else that’s extraordinary from a safety point of view is this: Several
different companies can file for patents on whiskey, gin, brandy, wine,
or port, or even to distinguish Irish whiskey from Scottish scotch.
Their combined marketing can encourage doctors to put patients on
combinations of whiskey, gin, brandy, and port and to keep their
patients on these combinations for extended or indefinite periods of
time.
If you or I had the power that Pharma has, we’d be able to get independent guidelines to endorse alcohol for
depression, making it almost mandatory for doctors to use it.
Where are the AMA and APA in all of this?
This
is where things get weird. The major difference between alcohol and
Lexapro or Abilify lies in a curious inversion of the stranger-neighbor
phenomenon. Rather stupidly, we are wary of strangers but comfortable
with neighbors, even though we’re most likely to be harmed by neighbors
or relatives.
Now, alcohol should be the familiar neighbor and
SSRIs the dangerous stranger. But in fact we treat alcohol as a
dangerous stranger, ripping a glass of wine out of the hands of a
pregnant woman, while we regard SSRIs as something that can only do good
even though these drugs are prescription-only precisely because we have
every reason to think they will be riskier than alcohol—which we’re
still basically happy to let people manage for themselves.
Doctors,
you see, provide a risk-laundering service to companies. In fact,
making drugs available through doctors is a way to hide significant
hazards such as liver failure or lung cancer, on average for 10-to-15
years from the time people begin to report them first, and claim that
their liver failure or lung cancer stems from the treatment.
Indeed, even after FDA puts a black box warning on alcohol or nicotine, most doctors will still deny that this risk happens.
In Pharmageddon,
you describe compellingly the dilemma that general practitioners and
psychiatrists face today, given the many targets they’re given and the
guidelines they’re told to follow relative to their immediate issue of
responding quickly, effectively, and safely to patient needs. I don’t
know how closely you’re following the UK and U.S. debates about DSM-5 and ICD-11, editions that obviously will be central to determining future treatment patterns and goals, but how in your opinion can caregivers work around that dilemma, even diminish it in their work?
I think
DSM-5 and
ICD-11
are not at the heart of the problem. One reason for thinking this is
that the key problems apply to all of medicine rather than to just
mental health.
DSM-5 is an example of a measurement technology,
like DXA scans or peak flow meters, that generates problems for doctors
to which a drug becomes an answer.
The deeper problem, as I
mentioned above, is the combination of product patents,
prescription-only status, and the use of clinical trials as a means of
determining efficacy—in particular, when the data from those trials are
not made available. This creates a perfect product for companies, with a
perfect consumer (doctors) and the perfect raw material (trials), which
industry can manipulate to mean whatever they want them to mean. It all
adds up to the perfect market, or the perfect perversion of a market,
depending on your point of view.