Big Pharma's Dangerous Drive To Push Meds On Little Kids
But it's the corruption of the medical profession by the pharmaceutical industry that has proved most insidious, and nothing illustrates the perilous consequences better than J&J's illegal marketing of Risperdal to kids. Making 100,000 sales calls on psychiatrists and pediatricians, the company lined the pockets of willing MDs employing familiar pharma ploys, from the small-change items like lavishing free samples, free lunches and—this may be a first—even free colorful plastic Lego blocks printed with the word RISPERDAL for children to play with in the waiting room, to the big-ticket items such as "educational" meetings at fancy resorts and "advisory board" soirees at the Four Seasons. The company even paid certain leading specialists hundreds of thousands of dollars a year to conduct J&J-designed trials and sign their name to J&J-written studies published in the top medical journals—providing a "scientific" spin to the promotional materials. In this amorphous manner, a professional consensus emerged that the atypical anti-psychotics were effective in very young children for attacks of rage, poor impulse control, defiant and oppositional behavior—the transient, irrational, sometimes frightening "acting out" that sends overworked adults around the bend.
By means of this closed circle or deceit and kickbacks, J&J beat out the competition to grab 50 percent of the pediatric market for anti-psychotics. And although many other psychiatrists and pediatricians were arguing that anti-psychotics should never be given to children under 10 in the first place, the white wall of silence in the medical profession generally prevents doctors from becoming whistleblowers unless prodded by investigative news reporting.
Everybody was profiting, it seemed, except for the kids.
Consider Kyle Warren, who as an 18-month-old Louisiana toddler began taking Risperdal prescribed by a pediatrician on the J&J payroll (plastic RISPERDAL Legos and all). Kyle suffered from frequent temper tantrums, and his mother, Brandy Warren, then 22, was a new mother on Medicaid and, as she told the New York Times, "at my wit's end." But like any good mother, Brandy kept on searching for the right diagnosis and the right treatment, going from doctor to doctor and amassing a contradictory set of assessments, such as autism, psychosis, schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, and attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. By the time he was age three, Kyle's daily pill regimen resembled that of someone very old or very sick, including Risperdal, the antidepressant Prozac, uppers for ADHD and downers for insomnia. He was sedated, he drooled, and he was ballooning with fat from the side effects of the Risperdal—but, look Ma, no more temper tantrums!
“All I had was a medicated little boy,” Brandy Warren told the Times. “I didn’t have my son. It’s like, you’d look into his eyes and you would just see just blankness.” Brandy got word of a high-quality program affiliated with Tulane University for low-income families with children with mental health problems. Over the next two years, Kyle was gradually weaned off the dangerous cocktail of drugs and given an ongoing exhaustive evaluation. His current diagnosis—attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder—is very common among boys his age; he takes a single long-acting stimulant to control it. At the time of the Times profile, in fall 2010, he was in his fourth week of first record and earning As in his first tests. There can be little doubt that the original course of treatment was a terrible medical error.
Says Brandy Warren: “Once he came off the medication, he was Kyle again. He’s an intelligent person. He’s loud. He’s funny. He’s smart. He’s bouncy. I mean, there’s never a dull moment. He has a few little behavior issues. But he’s like any other normal 6-year-old.” Still, she worries that the many months he spent taking those drugs may have damaged his development. Will Kyle be more susceptible to mental health problems and addiction as he ages? No one knows. "I will never, ever let my children be put on these drugs again,” she told the Times, choking back tears. “I didn’t realize what I was doing.”
Surely some adults and even some children with behavioral problems have been helped by Risperdal, though rounds of scientific studies suggest that the wonder drug is no more beneficial to patients than less hazardous anti-psychotics that came before it. Ultimately, its Johnson & Johnson (and its billionaire competitors) who may have real behavioral problems to deal with. According to a 2009 report by the FDA, an estimated 500,000 adolescents and children are on anti-psychotics, despite the fact that schizophrenia—the original condition that was supposed to be treated by these drugs—typically manifests only in the late teens. Despite all the bad publicity and billions of fines levied against the company, J&J continues to make a nifty profit off of Risperdal. Even in 2010, when the company's patent on the drug had expired, sales continued to climb. In fact, over the past decade "atypical anti-psychotics" have emerged as one of the drug industry's most lucrative products, averaging about $15 billion in annual sales. But is America really experiencing an"epidemic" of psychosis among preschoolers? Far likelier that we are witnessing an epidemic of unethical and illegal collusion between Big Pharma and Big Medicine—a derangement of values, if you will. The pharmaceutical industry's craving for endless profits has progressed so far that executives feel free to prey on the most vulnerable members of our society.