FEAR AND LOATHING IN GENEVA
Some Reflections on the Sorry State of AIDS Journalism
By Celia Farber
Impression 24 Aug. 1998
I have attended, as a reporter, eight International AIDS Conferences
-- in Washington, D.C., Montreal, San Francisco, Stockholm, Florence,
Berlin, Vancouver, and this year, Geneva. They are uniformly awful,
a total waste of a journalist's time. Mostly I go just to fortify my
belief that AIDS -- the entire industry and social machinery of it --
is at its root a totalitarian system. By that, I mean that there is
a central ideology that seeks to enforce its domination by methodically
obstructing any ideas that run counter to it. This is no place for journalists.
''Media'' -- to the extent that they are present, are only there for
decorative purposes. If any rogue journalist actually asks a question
-- a real question -- he or she is met with a sea of frowning
faces and hisses. Microphones are shut off. I've even seen guards called
in and seen one journalist expelled from the country (in this case Germany)
because he asked questions the AIDS establishment didn't like. These
conferences are about the enforcement of an ideology -- not the questioning
of it. I have said in the past that they resemble a kind of 'October
Parade' for the AIDS party.
I realize that to the average American, when I say ''AIDS'' you think
of perhaps Liz Taylor or Elton John and red ribbons and marches and
quilts and candles and all kinds of benevolence. All of that
stuff is probably well intentioned enough. But the real force driving
the AIDS super-structure, what pulses just beneath the patina of do-goodism
-- is an industry of awesome, relentless, amoral power -- the pharmaceutical
industry. I'll return to the question of media in a moment, but first,
let me quantify what I just said.
These ''International AIDS Conferences'' are really just microcosms
of the AIDS industry itself. They are funded by, driven by, and controlled
by the pharmaceutical industry. In Geneva this year, there were pharmaceutical
ads plastered right onto the luggage-conveyor belts at the
airport.
At every conference, the leading pharmaceutical giants take up an entire
stadium-sized floor with their structures -- mini-villages that they
build, complete with huge video screens, towering pillars, interactive
displays and all kinds of goodies, including CDs, videos, carry bags,
condoms, ice cream, chocolates and whatever else they can imagine will
lure conference delegates into their booths.
Glaxo-Wellcome, maker of the now-fallen former pinnacle AIDS drug AZT,
routinely pays for the first-class travel and hotel accommodations of
scores of so-called activists, mostly from ACT UP. Most of the doctors
present are there courtesy of the pharmaceutical industry, and in addition
to their travel expenses and per diems, they are invited to a constant
series of lavish lunches and dinners. Many of the doctors who write
for medical journals about the effects of these AIDS drugs are paid
consultants to the drug companies. It is, in short, a festival of sophisticated
whoredom.
I thought I had seen it all, but this year in Geneva, in the pressroom,
I saw something that made me think for a second I was having an acid
flashback. I picked up what looked like a copy of USA Today.
It was USA Today, complete with the logo and everything. But
all the text -- every story -- on the cover was about drugs. In fact,
it was all about Glaxo drugs, and it was all glowing, glowing. Then
I saw in fine print at the bottom of the page that the entire cover
spread had been bought by Glaxo -- the copy written by its
employees! And this ''special edition'' was going out all over Geneva,
looking for all intents and purposes like a copy of USA Today,
where the staff had just suddenly decided to enlighten the world to
the wonders of Glaxo's drugs.
Each morning in the media room, envelopes were laid out by pharmaceutical
reps, addressed to the reporters from all the major papers. You'd see
them open the envelopes, walk over to a laptop and start typing. ''They
all look like they're doing their knitting in there,'' remarked my friend
Huw Christie, editor of the AIDS dissident magazine Continuum.
(A ''dissident'' is simply a person who questions the establishment's
AIDS hypothesis.)
At the 1993 conference in Berlin, when the results of the so-called
Concorde study blew to smithereens the long-held hogwash that AZT was
a life-extending drug, I vividly recall an incident that seemed to say
it all. Outside the conference entrance stood a man with a sign that
read: ''Down With AZT,'' or something to that effect. Well, the poor
man was set upon by an angry mob of activists (ACT UP), some of whom
sported neon hair and Mohawks. They broke his sign in half, took his
fliers and ripped them up, shoved him to the floor, roughed him up,
and then set his materials on fire. It later emerged that these AZT-loving
fanatics -- who by the way were never disciplined -- had all been flown
in courtesy of Wellcome.
For those of you who have not been following the AIDS-media scoreboard
all these years, I can sum it up as follows: The mainstream AIDS media
have botched the story virtually beyond repair, by constantly repeating,
without any scrutiny, the pronouncements of the federal government's
AIDS institutions.
They bought wholesale the totally unfounded notion of a heterosexual
AIDS "explosion," based on no evidence at all, and indeed it never happened
and won't ever happen. They uncritically reported that AZT was a wondrous,
life-saving drug, based on studies that were fraudulent and funded by
the drug's maker. (Instead it turned out to shorten lives.) They failed
to report that the U.S. AIDS scientist Robert Gallo had stolen his HIV
viral sample from the Pasteur Institute, even though it was as plain
as day, and they also, inexplicably, never questioned Dr. Gallo's totally
unsubstantiated 1984 announcement that HIV was the proven ''cause''
of AIDS. They continue to invent an AIDS epidemic that is decimating
Africa, even though all African countries afflicted by AIDS are reporting
population growth. And they went hog wild with the "AIDS Is Over" stories
of 1996, which credited the new cocktails with bringing people back
from the dead. Now the tide has turned, and the drugs are proving to
have horrific side effects and little effect on mortality.
But not one of them has lost a job, or even been reprimanded -- because
AIDS journalism is only a facade. I realized this this year in Geneva
when I attended a panel discussion on "AIDS and Media Responsibility."
A bunch of journalists were up there, and in the middle sat Miss America.
They spoke in the usual way, about how the media's ''responsibility''
in AIDS is this and that. About how important it is to ''educate'' the
public. About how journalists shape cultural responses to AIDS.
I finally couldn't stand it anymore, and I went to the microphone in
a rare moment of spunk. ''The problem,'' I told them, ''is this kind
of talk, all this talk about 'responsibility.' There is no responsibility,
no more and no less than for any other story. The only responsibility
a journalist has is to investigate, to report. We are not Boy Scouts
or missionaries or agents of the greater good. We are journalists.''
They shut my mike off. A woman from the panel who was from a small
West Indian island came up to me and said: ''I think I know what you
mean. I keep hearing that in my country we have over 400 cases of AIDS
and that the numbers are growing, but it's not true. We have about 18
cases. But if I say that, they tell me it's irresponsible.''
She laughed. ''Is that what you mean?''
I told her that's exactly what I mean.
It is a virtual fulfillment of Orwell's dystopia, where the party dictates
that what is untrue is ''responsible'' and that what is true is ''irresponsible.''
How swollen, how grandiose, to think that we, as AIDS reporters, have
some kind of higher ''responsibility,'' some kind of job that is more
complex, more portentous than that of any other journalist on any other
subject. All of this is really a thinly veiled argument in favor of
propaganda. Journalism unravels, reveals -- at best, disturbs. Propaganda, by
contrast, operates on an emotional plane, and forces a constant focus on what is seen as a
greater good.
"Its task," in the words of Goebbels himself, "is to keep the people persuaded, and to mold
coming generations." Goebbels was quite open in his disdain for factuality: "This shows the
difference between propaganda and people's enlightenment," he said. "Propaganda
is a revolutionary-political concept. People's enlightenment limits itself to informing the
people in a more factual way about existing necessities and questions."
At one press conference featuring AIDS figureheads Dr. Anthony Fauci (head of the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases)
and Dr. David Ho (cocktail enthusiast), some dissident journalists asked
probing questions about what proof eAxisted for HIV's isolation. A colleague
of mine overheard a reporter sighing and rolling her eyes in exasperation.
She then walked up to Dr. Fauci and whispered audibly: "How do these
people get press passes? We have to do something about this!''
Activist Mark Harrington, also on the panel, shouted: ''Why don't you
people have your own conference? Why do you have to come here?''
We later learned that the complaints about our presence at the conference
came not from the AIDS leaders, and not even from the pharmaceutical
reps; It came from journalists -- who probably don't even realize that
they have left the realm of journalism and floated off to a quiet, well-run
place where there are no questions, no disturbances at all, and truth
is in total eclipse. *
Celia Farber is a special contributor for Impression and covered AIDS for Spin for a decade.