Like many scams, this one follows a predictable formula.
It is a formula widely practiced among food manufacturers, ever since food products began to jockey for position based on nutritional composition and purported health benefits.
First, identify a component of food, such as wheat fiber or oat bran, that confers a health benefit. Then, validate the healthy effect in clinical studies. Wheat fiber, for instance, promotes bowel regularity and reduces the likelihood of colon cancer. Oat bran reduces blood cholesterol levels.
Second, commercialize food products that contain the purported healthy ingredient. Wheat bran becomes Shredded Wheat, Fiber One, and Raisin Bran cereals and an endless choice of “healthy” breads. Oat bran becomes Honey Bunches of Oats, Quaker’s Instant Oatmeal, and granola bars. Even if many unhealthy components are added, as long as the original healthy product is included, the manufacturer continues to lay claim to healthy effects.
Third, as long as the original healthy ingredient remains, get an agency like the American Heart Association to provide an endorsement: “American Heart Association Tested and Approved.”
The last step is the easiest: just pay for it, provided the product meets a set of requirements, no matter how lax.
You will find the American Heart Association certification on Quaker Instant Oatmeal Crunch Apples and Cinnamon. Each serving contains 39 grams carbohydrate, 16 grams sugar (approximately 4 teaspoons), and 2.5 grams fat of which 0.5 grams are saturated. Ingredients include sugar, corn syrup, flaked corn, and partially hydrogenated cottonseed oil. Curiously, of the 4 grams of fiber per serving, only 1 gram is the soluble variety, the sort that reduces cholesterol blood levels. (This relatively trivial quantity of soluble fiber is unlikely to impact significantly on cholesterol levels, since a minimum 3 grams of soluble fiber is the quantity required, as demonstrated in a number of clinical studies.) Nonetheless, this sugar product proudly wears the AHA endorsement.
Thus, a simple component of food that provides genuine benefit mushrooms into a cornucopia of new products with added ingredients: sugar, high fructose corn syrup, corn starch, carageenan, raisins, wheat flour, preservatives, hydrogenated oils, etc. What may have begun as a health benefit can quickly deteriorate into something that is patently unhealthy.
There’s a clever variation on this formula. Rather than developing products that include a healthy component, create products that simply lack an unhealthy ingredient, such as saturated or trans fats or sodium.
Thus, a ¾-cup serving of Cocoa Puffs cereal contains 120 calories, no fiber, 14 grams (3 ½ teaspoons) of sugar—but is low in fat and contains no saturated fat. Proudly displayed on the box front is an American Heart Association stamp of approval. It earned this stamp of approval because Cocoa Puffs was low in saturated, trans, and total fat and sodium. Likewise, Cookie Crisp cereal, featuring Chip the Wolf, a cartoon wolf in a red sweater (“The great taste of chocolate chip cookies and milk!”), has 160 calories, 26 grams carbohydrate and 19 grams (4½ teaspoons) of sugar per cup, and 0 grams fiber—but only 1.0 gram fat, none saturated, thus the AHA check mark. (Promise margarine, made with hydrogenated vegetable oil and therefore containing significant quantities of trans fats, was originally on the list, as well, but removed when the trans fat threshold was added to the AHA criteria.)
It is this phenomenon, the sleight of hand of taking a healthy component and tacking on a list of ingredients manageable only by food scientists, or asserting that a product is healthy just because it lacks a specific undesirable ingredient, that is a major factor in the extraordinary and unprecedented boom in obesity in the U.S. Imagine the chemical industry were permitted such latitude: “Our pesticide is deemed safe by the USDA because it contains no PCBs.” Such is the ill-conceived logic of the AHA Heart-Check program the "Heart Healthy" claims.
It’s best we keep in mind the observations of New York University nutritionist and author of the book, Food Politics, Marion Nestle, that “food companies—just like companies that sell cigarettes, pharmaceuticals, or any other commodity—routinely place the needs of stock holders over considerations of public health. Food companies will make and market any product that sells, regardless of its nutritional value or its effect on health. In this regard, food companies hardly differ from cigarette companies. They lobby Congress to eliminate regulations perceived as unfavorable; they press federal regulatory agencies not to enforce such regulations; and when they don’t like regulatory decisions, they file lawsuits. Like cigarette companies, food companies co-opt food and nutrition experts by supporting professional organizations and research, and they expand sales by marketing directly to children, members of minority groups, and people in develop countries—whether or not the products are likely to improve people’s diets.”
Qualms over just how heart-healthy their products are? Doubtful.
Once upon a time, the tobacco industry was guilty of conducting a widespread, systematic, highly organized campaign to deliver their product to as much of the unsuspecting public as possible.
As clinical data mounted linking smoking and health problems like cancer and heart disease, tobacco producers labored fiercely to counter these claims despite darkening public sentiment. When individual company executives were questioned on why they continued to perpetuate the industry’s scandalous practices, the invariable justification offered was “Well, I had to pay my mortgage.” That tidy ends-justifies-the-means rationalization has a familiar ring when you examine the behavior of those in the heart "industry."
Things are not what they seem. The hospital, once an institution to serve the sick, a place for clergy, volunteers, and other altruists, has evolved into a business serving a thriving bottom line. You are the “product” they seek. The cardiologist, ostensibly in the service of alleviating heart disease, instead seeks to grow his checkbook by performing procedures that have nothing to do with lessening the burden of heart disease. He dives into the water to save drowning victim after drowning victim, but fails to simply toss in the life preserver that has been close at hand all along.
The woeful family practitioner, who is expected to bear undue responsibility for the broad spectrum of health, ignorantly permits heart disease to grow under his or her nose and, by default, allows heart disease to become the exclusive province of the proceduralist. Worse, the family practitioner or internist in the employ of the hospital (a situation that has quietly grown to encompass 80% of all primary care physicians) labors to fatten hospital business by directing patients into hospital services. The comparative lowly incomes of the primary care physician are substantially supplemented by participating in this huge revenue-generating machine called heart care.
The astounding grasp of the system has caused one of every 10 adults in the U.S. to have undergone a heart procedure. The lemming-like procession to the hospital creates a crowd mentality among some sectors of the frightened public. “My friends and neighbors have all had bypass operations. Sooner or later I guess it’s going to be my turn.”
Tragically, the system has grown through the exploitation of trust. The faith we have in doctors, hospitals, and the institutions and people associated with healthcare has been subverted into the service of profit. Many practitioners and institutions choose to operate under the guise of doing good, but instead capitalize on the public’s willingness to accept as fact the need for major heart procedures and all its associated costly trappings.
"When banks compete, you win.”
The TV ad opens with a 60-something man sitting in his living room, talking to a three-piece suit-clad, 30-something banker. The older man is explaining to the dismayed younger man why he’s going to use Lending Tree loan service for a home loan.
“But Dad, I’m you’re son!” the younger whines.
Many of Lending Tree’s clients have collaborated in filing a multi-million dollar class action suit against the company, claiming “bait and switch” tactics. They claim that home buyers are lured by low interest rates or low closing costs on a home loan. Once the buyer concludes the hassle of filling out numerous forms, the suit accuses Lending Tree of making a switch to a costlier loan.
Bait and switch is among the oldest con games around. If you’ve ever bought a car from a car dealer, chances are you’ve had your own little brush with this deception. The ad promises the SUV you’ve wanted for only $299 per month. Only, once you get there, the salesman informs you that only a limited number of special deals were available and they’ve run out. But he’s still got a really good deal right over here!
Most of us recognize that we’ve been hookwinked. Yet we still go along and buy a car from the dealer.
What if it’s not a sleazy salesman behind the pitch, but a physician. If it’s hard to resist the sales pitch at the car dealership, it can be near impossible to ignore the advice of your doctor. But the truth is often loud and clear: in many instances, it is a genuine, bona fide, and fully-certified scam.
Among the most common bait-and-switch heart scams: Your cholesterol is high. The sequence of subsequent testing is well-rehearsed. “Gee, Bob, I’m worried about your risk for heart disease. Let’s schedule you for a nuclear stress test.”
The stress test, like 20% or more of them, is “falsely positive,” meaning abnormal even though there’s nothing wrong with you. Another 30% are equivocal, not clearly abnormal but also not clearly normal. Now up to 50% of people tested “need” a heart catheterization in the hospital to clarify this frightening uncertainty. You might end up with a stent or two, even bypass surgery. Your simple $20 cholesterol panel has metamorphosed into $100,000 in hospital procedures.
That familiar sequence is followed thousands of times, seven days a week, 365 days a year.
Congestive heart failure is among the most common diagnoses in the hospital nowadays.
Congestive heart failure is the result of injury to the heart muscle such as that occurring during heart attack, viral infections of the heart (myocarditis), poorly controlled high blood pressure, and a smattering of other rare causes. Eight million Americans with congestive heart failure account for over one million hospital admissions annually (AHA Update, 2007). It has become so common, in fact, that it has ranked as number one cause for hospital admission for the last several years.
Heart failure is a frightening condition causing the sufferer to gasp for breath. Excess fluid accumulates in the lungs, amplifying the work of breathing and imparting a feeling of unease. Some heart failure sufferers struggle to the point of blacking out or requiring mechanical ventilation on a respirator.
There are a number of standard treatments for heart failure that usually rapidly rescue the patient from the brink of respiratory failure. These generally consist of intravenous diuretics that force the kidney to clear excess water rapidly, medications to increase heart muscle strength, and other treatments. It’s not uncommon for a heart failure patient to drop 10–20 lbs. in water weight with treatment. The treatments are quite effective for the majority of patients with rapid relief of the breathlessness generally obtained within hours.
However, the problem with congestive heart failure is not generally the rapidity or effectiveness of acutely providing relief, it is the chronic recurring nature of the disease. Someone can come to the hospital, obtain prompt treatment with relief of the breathlessness within 48–72 hours, only to return to the hospital in several weeks with a recurrence of the same process.
As common as congestive heart is in hospitals, it has also presented the perennial problem: how to convert this frequent reason for hospitalization into a profit opportunity. Some people who experience heart failure will undergo the usual sequence of heart procedures of heart catheterization, stents, bypass surgery, valve surgery, etc. But, because heart failure tends to be a repeatedly recurring event, even patients tire of the “need” for heart procedures. Then how can more heart failure occurrences be converted into profitable events?
A unique principle operates in the medical device market: If a disease lacks a procedure . . . create one.
Several problems are solved by such a principle. First, procedures are much more generously reimbursed by insurers than standard medical care without procedures. Two, the physician is provided an opportunity to also bill at a higher level. Third, patients often love the more dramatic, heroic nature of procedures, whether or not there is true benefit.
To the rescue of the poorly reimbursed area of congestive heart failure walks a Minnesota company called CHF Solutions, Inc., manufacturers of the Aquadex device.
Cost? $14,500 plus $900 per filter every time a patient gets one treatment. The Aquadex works by a decades-old process called ultrafiltration, used for many years but used principally for kidney failure not severe enough to require regular dialysis. New York cardiologist Howard Levin simply adapted the process, using smaller catheters inserted into the arm veins, in 2000. As in conventional ultrafiltration, blood is taken from the body from a catheter, passed through a filter that removes excess water, then returned to the body.
This is a serious effort. Dr. Levin raised $51 million in venture backing on top of $12 million seed capital. The device sailed through the Food & Drug Administration in June 2002, since it was labeled a newer form of ultrafiltration, thereby obtaining approval through the FDA’s 501k rule, a minor modification of existing technology. (Many truly technologically unique devices do come to market and therefore require the full process of FDA approval, a generally lengthy and costly process for devices. However, there’s another way: bill a device as “substantially equivalent” to an existing technology and the approval process is relatively quick and easy.)
In an industry publication, Cath Lab Digest, Dr. Levin was interviewed in February, 2003, and proclaimed, “We can treat many of the symptoms of heart failure, but we’re a long ways off from a cure. That’s why new technologies are so exciting, such as LVADs for the very sickest heart failure patients; biventricular pacing for the small subset of patients who seem to benefit from it; and simplified ultrafiltration such as the System 100 that can be applied to a broad range of congestive heart failure patients with fluid overloasize-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Lunch: Hamburger on whole grain bun Snack: Graham crackers
Dinner: Whole grain homemade pizza on whole grain pita crust
Remember Morgon Spurlock's documentary movie, Super Size Me? (If you haven't already seen it, Super Size Me is viewable for free on
Hulu.) Spurlock conducts a self-inflicted 30-day experiment of eating at McDonald's fast food restaurants every day. In short, the results on Spurlock's weight and health are disastrous.
How about Wheat Belly: The Movie? We would chronicle our star through a 30-day course of meals served up by the Wheat Foods and Whole Grains Councils, all featuring wonderful wheat products in every meal. We could measure blood sugar, triglycerides, LDL, small LDL, weight, etc.
Any predictions?