All stories about treatment and risk will start with modest clinical hunches like these anecdotes; but hunches, with nothing to back them up, are not generally newsworthy. At the publication of this paper, a press conference was held at the Royal Free Hospital, and to the visible surprise of many other clinicians and academics present, Andrew Wakefield announced that he thought it would be prudent to use single vaccines instead of the MMR triple vaccine. Nobody should have been surprised: a video news release had already been issued by the hospital, in which Wakefield made the same call.
We are all entitled to our clinical hunches, as individuals, but there was nothing in either this study of twelve children, or any other published research, to suggest that giving single vaccines would be safer. As it happens, there are good grounds for believing that giving vaccines separately might be more harmful: they need six visits to the GP, and six unpleasant jabs, which makes four more appointments to miss. Maybe you’re ill, maybe you’re on holiday, maybe you move house, maybe you lose track of which ones you’ve had, maybe you can’t see the point of rubella for boys, or mumps for girls, or maybe you’re a working single mum with two kids and no time.
Also, of course, the children spend much more time vulnerable to infection, especially if you wait a year between jabs, as Wakefield has recommended, out of the blue. Ironically, although most of the causes of autism remain unclear, one of the few well-characterised single causes is rubella infection itself, while the child is in the womb.
The story behind the paper
Some fairly worrying questions have been raised since then. We won’t cover them in detail, because I don’t find
For example, it is investigating whether Wakefield failed to disclose to the editor of the
Of the twelve children in the paper, eleven sued drug companies (the one that didn’t was American), and ten of them already had legal aid to sue over MMR before the 1998 paper was published. Wakefield himself eventually received
Various intrusive clinical investigations – such as lumbar punctures and colonoscopies – were carried out on the children, and these required ethics committee clearance. The Ethics Committee had been assured that they were all clinically indicated, which is to say, in the interests of the children’s own clinical care: the GMC is now examining whether they were contrary to the clinical interests of the children, and performed simply for research.
Lumbar puncture involves putting a needle into the centre of the spine to tap off some spinal fluid, and colonoscopy involves putting a flexible camera and light through the anus, up the rectum and into the bowel on a long tube. Neither is without risk, and indeed one of the children being investigated as part of an extension of the MMR research project was seriously harmed during colonoscopy, and was rushed to intensive care at Great Ormond Street Hospital after his bowel was punctured in twelve places. He suffered multiple organ failure, including kidney and liver problems, and neurological injuries, and received ?482,300 in compensation. These things happen, nobody is to blame, and I am merely illustrating the reasons to be cautious about doing investigations.
Meanwhile, in 1997 a young PhD student called Nick Chadwick was starting his research career in Andrew Wakefield’s lab, using PCR technology (used as part of DNA fingerprinting) to look for traces of measles strain genetic material in the bowels of these twelve children, because this was a central feature of Wakefield’s theory. In 2004 Chadwick gave an interview to Channel 4’s
I could go on.
Nobody knew about any of this in 1998. In any case, it’s not relevant, because the greatest tragedy of the media’s MMR hoax is that it was brought to an end by these issues being made public, when it should have been terminated by a cautious and balanced appraisal of the evidence at the time. Now, you will see news reporters – including the BBC – saying stupid things like ‘The research has since been debunked.’ Wrong. The research never justified the media’s ludicrous over-interpretation. If they had paid attention, the scare would never have even started.
The press coverage begins
What’s most striking about the MMR scare – and this is often forgotten – is that it didn’t actually begin in 1998. The
In 2001 the scare began to gain momentum. Wakefield published a review paper in an obscure journal, questioning the safety of the immunisation programme, although with no new evidence. In March he published new laboratory work with Japanese researchers (‘the Kawashima paper’), using PCR data to show measles virus in the white blood cells of children with bowel problems and autism. This was essentially the opposite of the findings from Nick Chadwick in Wakefield’s own labs. Chadwick’s work remained unmentioned (and there has since been a paper published showing how the Kawashima paper produced a false positive, although the media completely ignored this development, and Wakefield seems to have withdrawn his support for the study).
Things began to deteriorate. The antivaccination campaigners began to roll their formidable and coordinated publicity machine into action against a rather chaotic shambles of independent doctors from various different uncoordinated agencies. Emotive anecdotes from distressed parents were pitted against old duffers in corduroy, with no media training, talking about scientific data. If you ever wanted to see evidence against the existence of a sinister medical conspiracy, you need look no further than the shower of avoidant doctors and academics, and their piecemeal engagement with the media during this time. The Royal College of General Practitioners not only failed to speak clearly on the evidence, it also managed – heroically – to dig up some anti-MMR GPs to offer to journalists when they rang in asking for quotes.
The story began to gain momentum, perhaps bound up in the wider desire of some newspapers and personalities simply to attack the government and the health service. A stance on MMR became part of many newspapers’ editorial policies, and that stance was often bound up with rumours about senior managerial figures with family members who had been affected by autism. It was the perfect story, with a single charismatic maverick fighting against the system, a Galileo-like figure; there were elements of risk, of awful personal tragedy, and of course, the question of blame. Whose fault was autism? Because nestling in the background was this extraordinary new diagnosis, a disease that struck down young boys and seemed to have come out of the blue, without explanation.
Autism
We still don’t know what causes autism. A history of psychiatric problems in the family, early birth, problems