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Cancer and social life
Review of Living Downstream: An Ecologist Looks at Cancer
and the Environment, by Sandra Steingraber
By Joanne Laurier
13 May 1999
Living Downstream: An Ecologist Looks at Cancer and the
Environment, by Sandra Steingraber, Addison-Wesley, Reading,
Massachusetts, 1997
This book appeared two years ago, but it is well worth bringing
to the attention of those readers of the WSWS who are not
familiar with it. Living Downstream is one of the first
works to deal comprehensively with the growing body of evidence
linking cancer to environmental contamination. It is a compilation
of scientific studies and analyses, as well as newly released
cancer registry data. Meticulously researched, the book is narrated
by an ecological scientist who has lived through the horror of
a cancer diagnosis. Thus the mass of evidence is presented both
scientifically and personally.
Sandra Steingraber is a biologist, a poet and a cancer survivor.
The book begins by paying tribute to Rachel Carson, the wildlife
biologist, whose groundbreaking Silent Spring was published
in 1962. That work discussed the poisoning of the environment,
as well as the connivance of governments and many scientists in
relation to the extent and effects of chemical pollutants. Carson
sounded the alarm about many harmful substances, such as DDT,
whose registration was only revoked in 1972.
In Silent Spring she wrote, "I do contend we have
put poisonous and biologically potent chemicals indiscriminately
into the hands of persons wholly ignorant of their potentials
for harm. We have subjected enormous numbers of people to contact
with these poisons, without their consent and often without their
knowledge." Felled by breast cancer in 1964, Carson left
unfinished work on the influence of industry, such as chemical
companies, on the direction of medical and scientific research.
In Living Downstream Steingraber compares data on environmental
toxicity and data on cancer incidence. "Few long-term, comprehensive
studies on the environmental links to human cancers have been
conducted--and I leave it to readers to judge the reasons for
this neglect. However, the many small-scale, underfunded, and
sometimes preliminary investigations that do exist create a startling
picture when viewed together."
Steingraber's book makes a powerful case, which can only be
hinted at here. She notes that an important indicator of the connection
between cancer and environmental damage is the rise in cancer
incidence over time. At mid-century a cancer diagnosis was the
expected fate of approximately 25 percent of the American population.
Today cancer strikes 40 percent of the population (38.3 percent
of women and 48.2 percent of men). The biggest upsurge has taken
place in the last two decades and has hit all age groups, from
infants to the elderly. Overall, cancer is the second leading
cause of death and the leading cause between 35-64 years of age.
Another indicator of the role of environmental factors is the
increase in cancer incidence among successive generations. The
occurrence of melanoma (the most deadly type of skin cancer) rose
350 percent between 1950 and 1991 in the US; mortality rose by
157 percent. Between 1982 and 1989 alone, melanoma incidence jumped
83 percent. Melanoma is increasing at an annual rate of 4 percent
and the age of diagnosis is going down.
The types of cancer that are galloping out of control also
indicate evidence of environmental attack: after lung cancer in
women, those growing most rapidly are melanoma of the skin, non-Hodgkin's
lymphoma and multiple myeloma.
Melanomas are associated with exposure to ultraviolet radiation.
The Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) projects that tens of
thousands of additional fatal skin cancers will result from the
5 percent loss of ozone that has occurred above North America.
Lymphomas are consistently associated with exposure to synthetic
chemicals, especially a class of pesticides developed by the military
in 1942 known as phenoxy herbicides--the most famous being Agent
Orange. Steingraber documents the evidence which associates the
phenoxy herbicides with non-Hodgkin's lymphoma. Exposure to radiation
has been recently linked to the surge in cases of multiple myeloma,
which is also associated with exposure to a variety of chemicals,
most notably benzene. "Bone marrow. Lymph nodes. Skin. From
the body's dark tunnels to its sunlit surface, cancers of all
kinds are presenting themselves with increasing frequency. Melanoma,
lymphoma and multiple myeloma are simply traveling at especially
high velocities," she writes.
Steingraber spends some time discussing the group of chemicals
known as organochlorines, formed by the chemical marriage of chlorine
and carbon atoms, which represent some 50 percent of the synthetic
materials recognized as endocrine disrupters. Almost universally,
chlorine and carbon do not coincide in the natural world. To force
the two together, elemental chlorine gas is required. A powerful
poison, chlorine gas was first introduced in World War I, but
its use grew exponentially during and after World War II.
According to Steingraber, the military demands of World War
II were the catalyst, from an ecological viewpoint, in transforming
a carbohydrate-based economy into a petrochemical-based economy.
Simply put, products previously derived from vegetation were now
manufactured from oil. "Dioxin is a beautifully symmetrical
molecule, consisting of two chlorinated carbon rings held together
by a double bridge of oxygen atoms ... dioxin has been linked
to a variety of cancers and is now believed to inhabit the body
tissues of every person living in the United States"
As the reader progresses through the diverse and frightening
statistics, often summarizing regional and global data, a picture
emerges of the accumulating threat to the human condition. The
cascade of research documentation is interspersed with insights
into the emotions and psychology of a cancer victim, the hellishness
of the cancer battle, the inhuman nature of the treatment, the
depressing merry-go-round of "getting well in preparation
for becoming sick in an attempt to get well."
Her close friend Jeannie Marshall, to whom the book is dedicated,
did not win the battle against the disease. The author movingly
describes Jeannie's final days: "Time had become such a strange
commodity in the preceding month. On the surface, it had seemed
to speed up as the vague progression of Jeannie's various symptoms
had suddenly accelerated. One day she found she could no longer
type. A week later she could not turn doorknobs. The next week,
buttons were impossible. Each loss was profound and irrevocable--the
ability to write, to walk through a doorway, to undress ... the
whole concept of time was unbearable."
Science measures the impact of cancer statistically; a cancer
patient has different barometers. Even the most routine aspects
of the disease are traumatic. "Nothing slows time down as
much as waiting for lab reports."
"Like a jury's verdict or an adoption decree, a cancer
diagnosis is an authoritative pronouncement, one with the power
to change your identity. It sends you into an unfamiliar country
where all the rules of human conduct are alien. In this new territory,
you disrobe in front of strangers who are allowed to touch you.
You submit to bodily invasions. You agree to the removal of body
parts. You agree to be poisoned. You have become a cancer patient.
"Most of the traits and skills you bring with you from
your native life are irrelevant, while strange new attributes
suddenly matter. Beautiful hair is irrelevant. Prominent veins
along the soft skin at the fold of your arm are highly prized.
The ability to cook a delicious meal in thirty minutes is irrelevant.
The ability to lie completely motionless on a hard platform for
half and hour while your bones are scanned for signs of tumor
is, conversely, quite useful."
Cancer and genetics
Steingraber addresses herself to the thorny issue as to whether
cancer is primarily inherited or acquired. She contends that a
cancer cell is "made, not born," and "arises through
a series of incremental changes to chromosomal DNA." These
alterations can be inherited, but the vast majority, she argues,
are acquired during one's lifetime when originally healthy genes
become damaged. These mutations are associated with different
kinds of cancer. "Body Burden" is a term used to denote
the total of all cumulative environmental exposures and involves
all routes of entry (inhalation, ingestion and skin absorption)
and all sources (food, air water workplace, home, etc.). Some
177 different organochlorine residues can be identified in the
body of an average middle-aged American man.
Every cancer patient experiences the manner in which the medical
community places great importance on heredity. Oncology patients
are always asked in detail about their genealogy, a legitimate
concern, but they are rarely, if ever, queried about their environmental
histories. (Steingraber points out the remarkable fact that cancer
registries in the US are not funded to collect occupational histories!)
She writes: "Even when rare, inherited mutations play
a role in the development of a particular cancer, environmental
influences are inescapably involved as well. Genetic risks are
not exclusive of environmental risks. Indeed, the direct consequence
of some of these damaging mutations is that people become even
more sensitive to environmental carcinogens."
"Cancer incidence rates are not rising because we are
suddenly sprouting new cancer genes. Rare, heritable genes that
predispose their hosts to cancer by creating special susceptibilities
to the effects of carcinogens have undoubtedly been with us a
long time.... The inheritance of a defective carcinogen-detoxifying
gene would matter less in a culture that did not tolerate carcinogens
in air, food and water."
In the book's final chapter, Steingraber challenges the conventional
wisdom that individual responsibility is the key to cancer prevention.
Typical of literature found in hospitals, clinics and waiting
rooms is a US Department of Health and Human Services brochure,
which admonishes: "You can control many of the factors that
cause cancer.... You can decide how you're going to live your
life." By contrast, a scientific textbook, Human Genetics:
A Modern Synthesis, asserts: "Reducing or eliminating
exposures to environmental carcinogens would dramatically reduce
the prevalence of cancer in the United States." (Steingraber
notes that in 1832, during a cholera epidemic, the New York City
medical council declared that that those most likely to be the
disease's victims were the imprudent and the intemperate.)
The official literature presents the principal cause of disease
as lifestyle or behavior. But lifestyle choices are never independent
of environmental risks. "Anyone following official dietary
recommendations is consuming from one to four servings of illegal
pesticide residues every twenty days--or somewhere between eighteen
and seventy-two servings a year. This tally does not include illegal
residues also received from meat, dairy, eggs, fish or grains....
Rachel Carson once remarked how strange it was to live in an age
where carcinogens were a basic element of our system of food production."
Citing the public educational campaigns on breast cancer prevention
as the most extreme expression of the focus on personal choice,
she remarks that a lifestyle approach is inadequate. Concentration
on this effort does not shed any light on the causes of the disease.
Steingraber points out that mammography and breast self-examination
are not tools of prevention but acts of cancer detection. "The
popular refrain 'Early detection is your best prevention!' is
a non sequitur: Detecting cancer, no matter how early, negates
the possibility of preventing cancer. At best, early detection
may make cancer less fatal, allowing us, as the epidemiologist
Robert Millikan puts it, 'to live in a toxic soup without breasts
or prostates, et cetera.'"
In her final chapter Steingraber makes the following subversive
and suggestive comment: "A narrow focus on lifestyle--like
a narrow focus on genetic mechanisms--obscures cancer's environmental
roots. It presumes that the ongoing contamination of our air,
food and water is an immutable fact of the human condition
to which we must accommodate ourselves" (emphasis added).
This is the heart of the matter. What prevents the public from
becoming galvanized over the issue of environmental contamination
and its profit-hungry perpetrators is not simply the influence
of the powerful corporations involved* or the actions of shortsighted
medical professionals, but a social atmosphere in which it is
virtually an accepted fact that nothing can be done to improve
the human condition. In reality, vast numbers of people know or
sense the truth of Steingraber's basic argument, but tacitly accept
that cancer is, in effect, one of the unavoidable, if unfortunate,
byproducts of modern economic life.
Steingraber advocates what she calls a "human rights approach"
to cancer. She observes that "we do not all bear equal risks
when carcinogens are allowed to circulate within our environment.
Workers who manufacture carcinogens are exposed to higher levels,
as are those who live near the chemical graveyards that serve
as their final resting place.... When carcinogens are deliberately
or accidentally introduced into the environment, some number of
vulnerable persons are consigned to death. The impossibility of
tabulating an exact body count does not alter this fact."
She notes that even those who dismiss the impact of contamination
as negligible and advance the most conservative estimate of cancer
deaths due to environment, 2 percent (whereas the genetics textbook
the author cites suggests that "90 percent of all forms of
cancer is attributable to specific environmental factors"),
are acknowledging thereby that 10,940 people die annually
in the US as the result of such contamination. This is larger
than the number of women who die each year from hereditary breast
cancer, more than the number of children and teenagers killed
each year by firearms, three times the number of nonsmokers estimated
to die each year as the result of secondary smoke--all subjects
of national debate and even legislative action. "These deaths,"
she writes, "are a form of homicide."
Steingraber draws the conclusion that the amelioration of the
devastating conditions that she has committed her career to exposing
can be accomplished through education and lobbying. She was appointed
to the National Action Plan on Breast Cancer, administered by
the US Department of Health and Human Services, shortly before
her book appeared. Those of us who draw more radical conclusions
from her compelling and disturbing work must view it as further
proof of the incompatibility of the unplanned and anarchic profit
system with the healthy and indeed continued existence of the
human race. Living Downstream is strongly recommended.
*Although the role of those corporate giants should not be
ignored. In one small bit of black comedy, a controversy erupted
when the reviewer of Living Downstream in the prestigious
New England Journal of Medicine, who described the book
as "a biased work," was exposed to be a senior official
with W.R. Grace, a prominent chemical firm. W.R. Grace was a defendant
in the notorious Woburn, Massachusetts pollution case dramatized
in the recent film, A Civil Action.
See Also:
Cancer
Treatment and Research
[WSWS Full Coverage]
Cancer
and Industrial Pollution
[WSWS Full Coverage]
A Civil Action: a compelling
tale loses much of its impact
[21 January 1999]
A Civil Action,
by Jonathan Harr, Vintage Books, New York, 1996
A telling saga of cancer and the courts
[21 February 1998]
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