|
If you’d
take its advocates seriously, you’d believe that drug tests were
intended solely for diagnostic, health-related reasons - - and
not for persecuting substance users or intimidating workers. Nothing
surprising here. Favorable public perception is important to the
Drug Industrial Complex and its advertising agencies, even if
it means doctoring the truth. To workers caught with their pants
down or skirts up, the manufacturer’s intent is academic. Who
cares why the damn thing was invented when you still have to fill
the cup?
Urine screening
is detection in its rawest form. Guilt before innocence, chemical
finger-pointing, surveillance - - all associations the Reagan
Enforcers are eager to avoid. Diagnosis, on the other hand, sounds
therapeutic. Diagnosis, on the other hand, sounds therapeutic.
Brochures and trade advertisements of the late seventies turned
the privacy violation into an almost altruistic gesture, completely
in line with modern medical procedures. "More than thirty
EMIT assays are available to measure levels of therapeutic drugs
. . . such as those used to treat heart conditions, asthma, and
epilepsy, to aid (physicians) in adjusting drug dosages for save
and effective treatment," reads a typical brochure put out
by the Syva division of Syntex, a manufacturer of high-tech lab
equipment. Ultimately, brochures get around to mentioning detection
of drug abuse but always in the language of clinical diagnosis,
not surveillance. This is tantamount to saying a urine test is
good for you.
Testing consultants,
the hundred-dollar-an-hour types, loved this angle. They first
marketed their services to rehabilitation clinics as a means of
ensuring that patients stay drug-free. "Establishing the
diagnosis of chronic heroin addiction involves consideration of
the patient’s history, physical examination, and results of the
urine test . . . . The earlier the problem is recognized, the
easier it is to reverse," recommended one study. No mention
was ever made of test results being used for other than medical
reasons, by the police or employers.
As the drug
phobia intensified, test developers got bolder. They took less
trouble discussing the real uses of the urine test, and eventually
dropped all pretense: "Immediate reliable drug detection
has never been this easy," now boasts Syva. Meaning that
within minutes you’d know whom to fire. Or bust. Or ship off to
a rehabilitation program, needed or not.
The strategy
paid off. The employers hungered to know, and the urine experts
were more than ready to answer the call of nature. Almost overnight,
hundreds of chemical companies and laboratories blossomed across
America, some equipped with little more than a two thousand dollar
machine, minimum wage specimen handlers, and a Yellow Pages ad.
A billion-dollar industry was born.
In contrast
to the flamboyant and violent history of drug empires, the history
of the urine test is hardly Hollywood material. Despite little
bloodshed, though, there are just as many power struggles and
politics. Ultimately the plot reveals the havoc government and
private enterprise can wreak when they work too closely together.
Chemical
detection has long been an intrinsic component of science. In
the days of the Roman Empire, physicians and oracles scanned,
sniffed and tasted human by-products on their way to diagnosis
and fortune-telling. Leonardo DaVinci was one of the many alchemists
who studied compounds and excretions in the hope of turning them
into gold. It’s been human nature to torture molecules, forcing
them to confess their secrets of creation. Gradually the process
became somewhat standardized.
As we might
have expected, the breakthroughs leading to modern biochemical
screening came not from academic curiosity, but military necessity.
When the U. S. Government wanted a devastating new bomb in the
forties, basic physics and chemistry became important business.
Research funds led to particle accelerators, spectrum analysis,
gas chromatography, and radiation identification, all methods
of zeroing in on the basic component of the molecule - - the atom.
Along the way, scientists became good at positively identifying
specific molecules as components of mysterious chemical soups.
At first
the War Department (as it was more honestly named) didn’t consider
applying this new science on people. During World War II the emphasis
was on destruction, not detection. Only a small group of physicians
saw its potential, first for forensic applications and later diagnostic
needs. But the equipment was expensive, the domain of specialized
hospitals and research facilities. For a long time, the technology
lay dormant.
Drug testing
of healthy individuals arrived comparatively late. In the sixties
America became aware of "recreational" drug use. It
began a counterculture and emerged as a social explosion. Conservative
elements, alarmed over losing Vietnam and possibly a generation,
banded together in an attempt to control "unacceptable social
behavior." One outgrowth was the National Institute of Drug
Abuse (NIDA), a Washington money pit responsible for analysis
- - clinical and social - - of the drug scene. NIDA was the institutional
force which put the fear of widespread addiction into the public
consciousness.
Paranoia
seems inextricably linked to bureaucracy. The Defense Department
was afraid the wide-scale heroin use among troops in Vietnam would
take root in the States when the "grunts" came home.
Behavior tolerated ten thousand miles away simply could not be
allowed the same latitude stateside. Something had to be done.
The solution lay in finding methods of screening GIs for heroin
addiction. NIDA, which wanted nothing more than the chance to
develop a drug test, found eager allies at the Pentagon. When
NIDA applied for research money, the alliance conjured the nightmare
of hordes of heroin addicts - - bitter, trained to kill, and,
of course, black - - returning to our peaceful shores as an epidemic.
Red tape was cut and grant money guaranteed.
As usual
the public knew little of this. The Pentagon minimized the high
level of addiction among returning veterans, so funding and research
were removed from scrutiny, and always downplayed.
The urine test is as much a product of human
persistence as technology. One of the industry pioneers, the Einstein
of urine testing, is Dr. Robert L. DuPont, Jr. In 1971 DuPont
started a seven year stewardship as the first head of NIDA, and
later as Director of the Special Action Office for Drug Abuse
Prevention. Right off he began a crusade to elevate drug abuse
to the top echelon of governmental concern. In the mid-seventies,
he emphasized honest drug education. NIDA even sponsored research
into beneficial usage’s of illicit substances. With Carter as
President, the nation developed a more relaxed, albeit cautious,
attitude toward drugs. DuPont adapted to this style, even conferring
with NORML, about the possibility of marijuana decriminalization.
The nation’s real drug problems, he said publicly, were alcohol
and tobacco. Commission reports and studies sponsored by NIDA
just ten years ago would be considered overly permissive, even
radical by today’s standards.
But DuPont,
at heart a conservative, was preparing for a clamp down. While
many states were decriminalizing possession of marijuana, NIDA
quietly urged selected companies to improve methods of detecting
individual drug use. Syntex had researched biochemical testing
through its Syva division as early ads 1966 but had lost interest
in the field until NIDA opened the door to government money.
The first
joint success was the immunoassay, a complex test procedure utilizing
chemical binders for illegal substances. "Working togeïùãù
through the seventies, NIDA and Syva developed neat little EMIT
urine tests for heroin, cocaine, speed and PCP that are still
used," noted Dean Lattimer, a general in the War on Urine
Testing for High Times Magazine. The immunoassay met all NIDA’s
requirements: It provided sensitivity to very low concentrations
of drugs; it was a procedure that could be easily taught and performed;
and it was relatively inexpensive. The mere fact that it wasn’t
particularly accurate didn’t seem to bother anybody. Roche Diagnostics
developed a competitive, equally flawed, screen - - Abuscreen
- - alongside Syva.,
NIDA’s role
in promoting the immunoassay became a prestigious and eventually
a financial coup for DuPont. At first, like the test developers,
he intimated that the procedures would be confined to medical
applications. In his preface to a 1973 Urine Testing Guide, he
wrote: "Urine screening for drugs of abuse has become a necessary
adjunct to treatment (of addiction)." When it later became
apparent that Regan was about to trounce Carter in the 1980 election,
Carter administration appointees hoping to survive shifted to
the right. It was no longer healthy to confer with NORML. In urine
testing, diagnosis took a back seat to the possibility of mass
surveillance. The repercussions of Watergate wore thin, and tight
restrictions on FBI, CIA, DEA, and other intelligence gathering
agencies were loosened. Open vials of cocaine, which had once
enjoyed high status in Washington, were now kept out of sight.
The atmosphere changed rapidly.
DuPont, despite
a basic anti-drug attitude, was guilty by association with the
trend toward liberalization. And at the time, he could find no
niche in the New Order. He seemed to be soft on drugs and resigned
(read: was squeezed out) from NIDA. He quickly signed on as head
of the American Council on Marijuana (ACM, later the American
Council on Drug Education), a quasi-scientific fear-mongering
group.
Outlasting
three Presidents, DuPont had developed survival instincts and
a keen nose for shifting political winds. His "born-again"
zeal on the dangers of drugs restored his hard-line image and
caught the attention of the White House. The Reagans welcomed
him back and urged him to resurrect the tests that he had helped
create. He could be tough on drugs and gain power at the same
time. What was once considered a conflict of interest had among
the supply-siders become good efficient government.
DuPont forged
the link between government, private agencies, and industry. The
combination of large scale funding, new technology, and propaganda
precipitated the rapid growth of the Testing Mentality. Speculative
equipment houses and laboratories began training personnel and
opening satellite facilities, some before the urine tests were
even commercially available.
Ironically,
the most prevalent of the illegal drugs - - marijuana - - proved
to be the most elusive in terms of immunoassay delectability.
Without a pot screen, EMIT had as much of a chance in the market
as a breathalyzer that couldn’t recognize alcohol. The reason
was obvious: marijuana, although relatively benign, had millions
of users. It was really the symbol of the sixties counterculture
and, through the decriminalization movement, gained dangerous
widespread support. Alaska made possession of up to four ounces
of pot legal in the confines of one’s home. Head shops were legitimate
businesses. Cheech and Chong "pot" movies were big box
office. But one of the hard-core tenets of the National Party
Line is that pot leads to harder, more dangerous drugs. Therefore,
stop pot and you nip drug abuse in the bud. The detection of marijuana
usage became the primary focus of all research. Estimates are
that fully ninety percent of all positive test results occurring
today across the nation are for marijuana.
Researchers
pursued the complex metabolic path of cannabis with the gusto
of small-town dogcatchers, but even unlimited grant dollars couldn’t
expedite an accurate test. Finally a compromise was reached. Instead
of search for a primary THC metabolite - - the one responsible
for the high - - an assay would look for a more accessible but
inert chemical. Called THC carboxylic acid, it doesn’t produce
the high, but remains in the body for weeks after exposure to
the drug. The accuracy would suffer, but tests for the presence
of marijuana, however old, were enough to satisfy the developers.
This logic
paralleled that of drug detection in the thirties, when opiate
testing was based not on finding opium but the more easily detected
quinine, the most common "cut" for heroin. Screening
for THC carboxylic acid means the equipment is not searching for
the chemical that impairs job perf9ormance. As we shall alter
see, it is mistaken for metabolites of other substances, which
are quite legal.
Whatever
scientific objections were raised got shouted down by the sales
division. In 1980 excited public relations staffers at ACM and
Syva revealed the EMIT cannaboid test. The Bladder Cops were now
armed and dangerous. For the first time, the power brokers took
notice. And they smiled. The EMIT assays, conceived as an adjunct
to medical practice, were now being pedaled as the ultimate snitch.
What followed
seemed more like a circus than the workings of responsible government.
The ACM and NIDA, hand in hand, hawked the immunoassay as the
final solution to the Drug Menace, which itself was being touted
as the chief threat to "traditional social values. This symbiotic
relationship between the urine test and the chief social evil
allowed one to feed off the other. In a more rational era, all
this would have been laughed off as pseudo-science. According
to Dr. Oscar Janiger, a noted Los Angeles psychiatrist who has
worked with drugs and addiction for over fifty years, "No
respected scientist regards the urine test as anything more than
quackery."
Enter the
three-martini lunch. Lavish banquet5s and conventions were instrumental
in selling EMIT, in getting potential buyers hooked. Chemical
cheerleaders wined and dined PTA groups, prison boards, corporation
executives, rehabilitation counselors, and, of course, the military.
Very few were in a position to question the basic science involved.
Conferences took on the flavor of pep rallies. Can do, gung ho,
U. S. A. all the way! A light to cast on the darkest evil scourge
had been found.
Eureka! It worked!
The entire
medical diagnostic market by 1986 had total sales of $2 billion,
six years after the THC test was launches. This includes all types
of equipment, from CAT scans to microscope slides. Urine-screening
devices, the youngest segment of that market, is easily the fastest-growing,
representing sales of over $100 million. Wall street analysts
predict a potential market in excess of $250 million annually
by 1990. The Washington Post estimates sales of ancillary drug-testing
paraphernalia could add another $150 million. And these are conservative
estimates, made before Reagan announced his drug-free workplace
in September 1986. Since then, as testing skyrocketed, analysts
have doubled these projections.
Syva’s EMIT
is currently the industry leader. An aggressive marketing staff
and favorable political climate helped it ring up over $40 million
sales in 1985, and almost $60 million in 1986. All this despite
persistent negative evaluations by respected scientists. All this
despite persistent negative evaluations by respected scientists.
Hoffmann-LaRoche is second. Its Roche Diagnostic sold $20 million
worth of abuscreen, its radioimmunoassay. A company spokesman
predicts they will triple business by 1990.
But some
folks are never satisfied. In an effort to boost sales, Syva established
a consulting arm, called Performance Diagnostics. Armed with Syva’s
client list, the division was "formed to help companies evaluate
the presence or extent of the drug and alcohol problem in the
workplace." But it was really a front, another way to push
the product." But it was really a front, another way to push
the product. Dr. John Morgan, Professor of Pharmacology and Medicine
at Mt. Sinai Medical School, observed, "This service by Performance
Diagnostics often included the recommendation of EMIT testing"
(Morgan, Journal of Psychoactive Drugs, 10/84). To the surprise
of no one.
Corporate
giants are often successful in new markets if they go in with
enough money, but urine testing isn’t just the domain of the big
boys. It has attracted more than its fair share of entrepreneurs.
After Reagan declared war on drugs, it seemed that everyone with
a semester of high school chemistry was cashing in. Many have
found success. The American Institute of Drug Detection in Rosemont,
Illinois (which despite an academic-sounding name is a for-profit
company), was founded in 1983 on a shoestring budget. Two years
later it has tested over 100,000 specimens for major firms, including
Exxon, General Mills, and my old jogging partners at the Chicago
Police Department. This one small company experienced a 1985 sales
increase of 450 percent over 1984. Profits for 1986 were expected
to rise even higher. Keystone Medical Corporation, a subsidiary
of Medical Diagnostics, sold nearly one million urine tests in
its first year of operation, earning $4 million. And there are
scores of others. Urine has literally and figuratively become
the Gold Rush of the eighties.
Big money
was made while researching urine testing, a lot of it off the
taxpayers. During four administrations NIDA pumped millions in
Syva and similar research programs. But the ones who really profited,
both financially and in experience, were those in on the early
development. Like Michael Deaver, who allegedly made millions
on his friendships in the Oval Office, so too is the urine-testing
industry saturated with influence selling.
Dr. Robert
E. Willette was NIDA’s head of Clinical Research Technology. As
a chemist, he oversaw development of EMIT from 1974 to 1981. When
EMIT was on the brink of commercial success, Willette left the
public sector and started his own consulting company - - Duo Research
in Annapolis, Maryland. Duo specializes in laboratory inspection
and performance evaluation. For a sizable fee, a Duo team recommends
improvements in technique, accuracy, publicity, and profitability.
Above all, Willette exaggerates urine-test accuracy: "Chemical
testing can be as close to 100% reliable as science permits."
Maybe someday, but not now, not with these tests.
Peter B.
Bensinger, former director of the Department of Drug Enforcement,
formed a partnership with Robert DuPont with the creative name
B and D Associates. Together they effectively counsel corporations
into establishing get-tough drug policies. Business is booming.
Bensinger is probably the most outspoken proponent of mass testing.
He has appeared on the Today show, and his articles appear regularly
in national op/ed pages. The media regard him as the unofficial
industry spokesman. Question on urine? Call Bensinger. It will
be his job to destroy the premises of this book.
Robert T.
Angarola, former general counsel to the White House Office of
Drug Abuse Policy, is an attorney with the Washington firm of
Hyman, Phelps & McNamara. He is also a urinalysis consultant.
Angarola carried the Administration’s hardball approach to his
private-sector clients: "The constitutional right to privacy
protects people only against government (emphasis added) intrusion.
Individuals acting as private citizens are not bound by these
constitutional restrains. And this applies to private employers."
Sounds like Edwin Meese? Talk of giving such free reign to employers
appeals to Angarola’s clients. These include Syva and Kidder Peabody,
a brokerage house that started its drug-testing program in late
1985. Angarola’s job is to head off lawsuits by disgruntled employees.
To avoid them, he urges workplace candor; a worker who knows about
his company’s drug policy won’t mind having his privacy violated.
So if you understand how the guillotine works, you won’t mind
putting your head on the block.
In the small
world of drug testing, these four - - Angarola, Bensinger, DuPont
and Willette - - are affectionately referred to as the Gang of
Four. Dr. John Morgan explains, "They are the ones responsible
for a good deal of drug testing’s success, and some of the fear
that goes along with it. Remember these names. These men are among
the most competent and knowledgeable about drug testing - - scientifically
and politically. They are well-informed: they have to be. Their
livelihoods depend upon their credibility. Unfortunately their
expertise represents the greatest threat to the civil liberties
we seek to protect. Know your enemy.
(Taken from Steal
This Urine Test
- Fighting Drug Hysteria In America
- By Abbie Hoffman with Jonathan
Silvers.)
|
