The open-access medical journal PLoS Medicine hits us on the international and the state level with two opinion and analysis pieces on the topic of disease and its prevention.
At the international level, Kouyate et al tell us about The Great Failure of Malaria Control in Africa, with a specific focus on the situation in Burkina Faso. As they remind us, the scope of malaria in Africa is epic, and its impact epicly terrible.
Malaria remains the most important parasitic disease affecting humans [1]. Every year, there are some 5 billion clinical episodes resembling malaria, some 600 million clinical malaria cases, and about 1 million malaria deaths [2]. The great majority of the malaria burden falls on the poor rural communities in sub-Saharan Africa (SSA), and most deaths occur in young children [1,2]. Malaria is considered a major barrier to the development of SSA [3].
In addition, treatment and prevention measures just aren't taking hold. Despite being tremendously effective in preventing malaria, insecticide-treated netting is still massively underutilized. In addition, treatment options for people suffering from malaria are limited. In the case of Burkina Faso, the country's entire health budget amounts to $9 per person per year. Consider that not just in light of whatever you had for lunch yesterday, but also based on the expected six fever or malaria episodes each child will suffer each year, and the $2 cost of treatment for each such episode (just to clarify, that's $12 of treatment each should should receive each year, on average...and that's just treatment, and not prevention, research, or any other function of health spending).
Drug-resistant forms of malaria are spreading, and knowledge about which drugs are now out of date, or may still work, has not been spreading to match.
The authors end by calling for a realistic approach to treatment of malaria in very poor African nations:
Unfortunately there is no ideal world. As sufficient funds for high coverage provision of ACT [artemisinin-based combination therapy -- the most medically effective approach, but also quite expensive] are currently not available, an appropriate interim solution would be to use a pragmatic combination of two affordable drugs. The obvious choice would be the combination of pyrimethamine–sulfadoxine and amodiaquine, which has been shown to be as effective as ACT in a number of SSA countries, including Burkina Faso [38–40].
However, after it became clear that Burkina Faso would not receive GFATM funds for the purchase of ACT, the NMCP of Burkina Faso asked the World Bank to use a portion of an existing US$12 million loan from the Global Strategy and Booster Program to purchase pyrimethamine–sulfadoxine and amodiaquine as an interim solution. This request was rejected with the argument that WHO recommends only ACT. As a result, chloroquine remains factually the first-line malaria treatment in Burkina Faso. These observations support the view that SSA countries continue to be victims of ignorance and lack of coordination between external donors and international organisations [41,42].
So, to summarize, Burkina Faso went to the world bank asking for money for the drugs it could afford, but the World Bank refused, being only willing to give money for the one treatment recommended by the World Health Organization (WHO). Of course, the problem here is that $12 million worth of ACT wouldn't have done the job. The authors hope that international agencies will get their act together and stop making decisions that punish poor nations for being poor by refusing them any kind of medical assistance.
Moving from the international scene to the California scene, Grudzen and Kerndt ask if it's time to regulate the adult film industry. As they point out, the adult film industry is a multi-billion dollar industry ($9-13 billion, which if you have a good memory, is about a thousand times as much money as the entire country of Burkina Faso requested from the World Bank for malaria treatment), although it formally employs a fairly small pool of people -- 1,200-1,500 performers. Throughout this article, the authors focus on an estimated 200 production companies. These latter two values feel like underestimates.
Their big issue is with the fact that pornography was legalized by case law rather than by statute, and thus is not nearly as regulated as most other industries that involve bodily fluids (such as being an EMT, for example). The performers are typically required to engage in unprotected, often high-risk sex acts, with the expected consequences:
The current practice of periodic HIV and STD testing may detect some disease early, but often fails to prevent transmission. The most recent HIV outbreak occurred when three performers who had been compliant with monthly screening contracted HIV in April of 2004 [6]. At that time, a male performer who had tested HIV negative only three days earlier infected three of 14 female performers.
Other STDs are also highly prevalent in the industry. Among 825 performers screened in 2000–2001, 7.7% of females and 5.5% of males had chlamydia, and 2% overall had gonorrhea [7]. These rates are much higher than in patients visiting family planning clinics, where chlamydia and gonorrhea rates were 4.0% and 0.7%, respectively [8]. Some might argue that this program of STD testing keeps rates of HIV and other STDs lower than in other sex-related industries, and in fact, a recent study of prostitutes in San Francisco found 6.8% and 12.4% positivity rates for chlamydia and gonorrhea, higher than rates in the adult film industry [9].
Notably, as an isolated public health issue, this is unfortunate for the people involved, but really doesn't matter nearly as much as some others. But the authors point out that it isn't just the performers who are affected:
The portrayal of unsafe sex in adult films may also influence viewer behavior. In the same way that images of smoking in films romanticize tobacco use, viewers of these adult films may idealize unprotected sex [16]. The increasingly high-risk sexual behavior viewed by large audiences on television and the Internet could decrease condom use. Requiring condoms may influence viewers to see them as normative or even sexually appealing, and devalue unsafe sex. With the growing accessibility of adult film to mainstream America, portrayals of condom use onscreen could increase condom use among viewers, thereby promoting public health.
In contrast to heterosexual adult films, homosexual-targeted productions more consistently require condoms. Due to the large number of HIV-positive performers, there is no requirement for HIV testing and condom use is the norm. Despite the ubiquitous use of condoms, homosexual adult movies are popular and profitable for production companies. In fact, there is some evidence that homosexual male audiences would not tolerate movies with unsafe sex, likely due to their proximity to many with HIV in the homosexual community. Some homosexual audiences regard watching sex without condoms as “watching death on the screen” [16].
They then cite other models of partially or wholly regulated sex industries:
Legislators can look to Nevada for a model for the successful regulation of a legal sex-related industry. Since the institution of mandatory condoms in Nevada's brothels in 1988, not a single sex worker has contracted HIV [17]. Workers must be repeatedly tested for HIV, syphilis, gonorrhea, and chlamydia to maintain a state health and work card. There are numerous other international models for condom enforcement in sex work, from Mexico City to Amsterdam. While there is no clear model for mandatory condom use in adult film, Brazil boasts an 80% condom usage rate in their adult films [18], while still maintaining a large share of the international market as the world's second largest adult film industry [18]. This suggests that condom use in adult films does not have to erode profitability.
It's worth adding that condom use is really important in the Brazilian industry, because of the HIV problem that appeared there before condom use became as prevalent as it is. Indeed, the most recent industry-wide HIV scare in the United States was spurred by American performers working in Brazil and contracting HIV.
Both articles ask us to take a practical, harm-reduction-oriented approach to a public health issue. In the case of the adult film industry, our touchiness about this topic keeps us from openly addressing the fact that we've set up a world where no one in my workplace can give me an aspirin, but a film company can mandate risky sex acts as a condition of employment. In the case of malaria, we are reminded that we shouldn't deny money for all but the "best" solutions, and should concentrate on enacting the "good" solutions that these nations can actually afford.