Subject: Re: We're Mad as Hell at the TV News

From: [email-masked] (Kyler Laird)
Date: Sat, 6 Mar 1993 14:17:21 GMT

[email-masked] (Steve Hendricks) writes:

>Oh, the POOOOOR gun owners.  So oppressed that it's almost impossible to
>obtain firearms. 

Gosh, what a bonehead.

No, it's not almost impossible to obtain firearms.  (It is getting
increasingly difficult to purchase an own them legally, though.)

The problem I think we were referring to was that it's almost impossible
to obtain honest coverage of firearms by the media.

Example (just for your info/interest):

One of the major networks (I can't find the reference - poor style - but
as I remember it was either NBC or CNN.) covered "assault" weapons (guns
that have handles, use plastic parts, or are colored black).  In one
scene they showed a police officer shooting an AR-15 (in .223) at a
watermelon.  They cut away to footage showing the water melon "blowing
up".  Turns out that since the AR-15 couldn't do this (duh), they made
up the "blowing up" scene by having the officer shoot a watermelon with
his service pistol (9mm with hollowpoints - Silvertips?).

They got caught.

Reminds me of PDFA's ad of the chart of a "normal" teenager's brainwaves
and the chart of the brainwaves of a teenager on MJ.  OOPS!  More like a
teenager in a coma!  Then they have the audacity to say that MJ is so
bad that it's worth lying about to stop.

Hey!  I've got this one on file!  I'll append it for those interested.
(The quote about being worth lying isn't from this file, it's from my
memory from another news source - made quite an impression on me.)

Guns and drugs:  the truth isn't bad enough, so the media has to
manufacture "evidence" to convince you (not me) to restrict their use.
I figure if the media is obviously (to me) lying to me about things I
know about (No, I don't consume any legal/illegal drugs stronger than
NyQuil.), they're probably feeding me a line about lots of things that
I don't know about.  So what good are they?  Essentially they're an
indicator/generator of public sentiment.

--kyler

----------------

Two articles on the Partnership for a Drug Free America
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Condoning the Legal Stuff?
HARD SELL IN THE DRUG WAR

     by Cynthia Cotts
     The Nation (March 9, 1992)

"This is your brain on drugs," goes the fried-egg ad.  "Any questions?"
After seeing the ad, some teenagers have stopped taking drugs -- and some 4-
year-olds have stopped eating eggs.  "Fried Egg" is one of hundreds of ads
released under the imprimatur of the Partnership for a Drug-Free America.
Launched in 1986 in New York City, this nonprofit group uses advertising to
reduce the demand for illegal drugs.  It's a flashy concept, but, as "Fried
Egg" demonstrates, propaganda can breed misconceptions.

The Partnership means well, but it sends a self-serving message.  The ads
themselves exaggerate and distort, relying on scare tactics to get people's
attention.  Ad strategies are based on market research rather than public
health policy.  Even worse, the Partnership has accepted $5.4 million in
contributions from legal drug manufacturers, while producing ads that
overlook the dangers of tobacco, alcohol and pills.  This "drug-free" crusade

is actually a silent partner to the drug industry, condoning the use of
"good" drugs by targeting only the "bad" ones.

Of course, the pharmaceutical and advertising industries have long been
intertwined.  James Burke, who resigned as chairman and C.E.O. of Johnson &
Johnson in 1989 to become chairman of the Partnership, is no stranger to
marketing.  In the mid-1980s, he engineered a classic campaign to restore
public confidence in Tylenol after the cyanide scare.  A few years later,
Johnson & Johnson sued Bristol-Myers Squibb for claiming in its advertising
that Aspirin-Free Excedrin is a better pain reliever than Extra-Strength
Tylenol.  At the Partnership, Burke has implemented a concept borrowed from
the pharmaceutical industry:  If ads can sell drugs, they can unsell them,
too.

More than 100 agencies have made Partnership ads pro bono, and the media kick
in ad space and airtime for free.  The incentive?  Creative directors get to
show off, giving their ads titles like "Candy Store" and "Tricks of the
Trade" and submitting them for industry awards.  The actors involved get
exposure, and the media outlets can pat themselves on the back for
contributing to a good cause.

Typically, Partnership ads are melodramatic.  They trade on scare tactics
(the school-bus driver snorts coke) and stereotypes (black boys sell crack in
the schoolyard).  With their hard line on marijuana, Partnership ads revive
an old message:  One puff, and you're hooked.  Dr. Gil Botven, who studies
drug abuse prevention programs at Cornell Medical College, thinks "what the
Partnership is doing is great."  But, he adds, "scare tactics have never been
demonstrated to be effective."

Partnership spokeswoman Theresa Grant doesn't like the term "scare tactics."
"We feel it's appropriate to arouse people's attention," she says.  A recent
print ad shows a preteen in a denim jacket under the headline, "What she's
going through isn't a phase.  It's an ounce a week."  The ad copy alerts
parents to the dangers of pot smoking, and in doing so, it exaggerates
slightly -- not many 10-year-olds could afford an ounce of marijuana a week,
let alone smoke it and stay on their feet.  When questioned about the
exaggeration, Grant said the ad had just come under review.  A few weeks
later, the "Not Just a Phase" girl was back, taking up a full page in The New
York Times.

Fact checking is a sensitive issue for the Partnership.  They've caught so
much flak over the years for inaccuracies that the review process has been
overhauled; now, the factual content of all ads is scrutinized before they're
produced.  The first screamer was a 1987 TV ad depicting the brain wave of a
14-year-old smoking pot.  It was actually the brain wave of a coma patient.
In 1990 Scientific American uncovered some cooked figures in a cocaine ad.
Those early mistakes were really "born of naivete," says Grant.  "Nobody
intentionally distorted facts.  In those days, they really thought they had
the kind of substantiation they needed."

A 1990 print ad reels off marijuana slang terms and concludes, "No matter
what you call it, don't call it harmless."  The ad cites potential damage to
the lungs and reproductive system.  But calls to the National Cancer
Institute and the National Institute on Drug Abuse (N.I.D.A.) didn't turn up
any casualties, just a lot of inconclusive studies.  One study did find
"reduced gas exchange capacity" in the lungs of fifteen women who were
chronic pot smokers.  As for reproductive risks, scientists have injected a
lot of pregnant monkeys with THC, the key psychoactive chemical in marijuana,
but they've yet to come up with hard evidence.  In fact, the health issue is
"nebulous," Grant concedes, so the Partnership is switching its tack on
marijuana.  Future ads won't tell you it's dangerous, just that it's uncool.

Like its mentors in the pharmaceutical industry, the Partnership has learned
to backpedal.  In the fall of 1990 the campaign sent ads to Alaskans for a
Drug-Free Youth, a parent group that was campaigning to put recriminalization
of marijuana on the ballot.  Recriminalization was passed that November, and
the Partnership crowed about the victory in its Winter 1991 newsletter.

When asked about the Partnership's effort, Grant denies a political motive.
"It wasn't any different than if we provided messages to a community group in
Iowa," she says.  "I must be remiss, because I never looked at it from the
perspective of assisting in a political campaign."

To maintain its good reputation, the Partnership has to offer hard proof of
advertising's impact on drug abuse.  So, even though experts have concluded
that media campaigns do not in themselves change behavior, Burke goes around
trumpeting the power of the media to save children from drugs.  Burke is
echoed by Mathea Falco, a former Assistant Secretary of State for
International Narcotics Matters, who is now writing a book on drug prevention
programs.  The Partnership's greatest achievement, says Falco, is to convey
the message "that using drugs is silly.  They're making it socially
unacceptable, and that's the best way to bring about social change."

No one can prove that the ads are responsible for declining drug use, or
indeed that all drug use is down.  The latest government surveys show a rise
in the use of cocaine and heroin by urban youth, and in the use of LSD by
college students nationwide.

When he needs proof Burke can quote the Partnership Attitude Tracking Survey
(PATS), conducted annually at the Partnership's behest by the Gordon S. Black
Corporation.  The PATS research suggests a correlation between teens who have
seen the antidrug ads, teens who disapprove of drug use and teens who say no
to drugs.  But when Burke cites PATS, he doesn't mention that Gordon Black is
a market research firm, or that PATS is based on "mall intercepts."  That is,
participants fill out questionnaires anonymously at shopping malls in sample
locations.  Confidentiality is thus guaranteed, but accuracy is not.

At the University of Michigan, Dr. Lloyd Johnston, a research scientists,
conducts an annual survey of high school students for N.I.D.A.  According to
Johnston, the mall intercepts are an inexpensive method of measuring trends,
but they lack the sampling precision of a household survey.  Nonetheless,
Johnston's surveys do bolster the PATS conclusions.  Most teens remember the
antidrug ads and report being influenced by them.  "There's no guarantee
advertising did it per se," says Johnston, "but it's clear things have moved
in the right direction."

The PATS five-year summary reports that illegal drug use by students is
dropping, but fails to mention that tobacco and alcohol are still teenagers'
drugs of choice.  Johnston's latest statistics show that 40 percent of tenth
graders report drinking within the past month and getting very drunk within
the past year.  "The other thing that comes out of our surveys," says
Johnston, "is that smoking has not dropped among young people for almost a
decade."  Nineteen percent of high school seniors are daily tobacco smokers,
and hundreds of thousands of them, Johnston sadly predicts, will die of long
cancer one day.

The Partnership has traditionally attacked marijuana, cocaine and crack,
drugs deemed widely available to school-children.  But if the Partnership's
mission is to stop kids from experimenting in the first place, why not go
after cigarettes and beer?  The answer is obvious.  According to Falco, "It
would be /suicidal/ if the Partnership took on the alcohol and tobacco
industries.  The Partnership is living off free advertising product and
space, and the media and ad agencies live off alcohol and tobacco
advertising."  Theresa Grant acknowledges that the decision to focus on
illegal drugs was "pragmatic," based on the desire to "get the airtime and
space and not alienate the people who are making this possible."

The Partnership's condoning of legal drugs doesn't bother Falco.  "The
message may not be complete," she chirps, "but it's better than nothing!"
Many public health researchers, however, are concerned about a new generation
of teens who smoke, drink and pop pills.

Experts believe that children begin using drugs in the order of availability,
and they're more likely to try marijuana if they've already tried alcohol and
cigarettes.  "The natural thing in a prevention campaign," says Dr. Botven,
"would be to focus on the three gateway substances: alcohol, tobacco and
marijuana.  The Partnership starts with marijuana, and my concern is they're
skipping the most important ones in terms of fatality."  Johnston believes
the Partnership has the ability to target legal drug abuse, and says he
"would be delighted if they would."  When asked if he thinks that could
happen, he pauses.  "A betting man would say no."

In the Partnership's early days, its primary supporter was the American
Association of Advertising Agencies.  That group knew better than to alienate
the legal drug industry.  But the mandate must have been reinforced in 1989,
the year Burke came fro Johnson & Johnson, bringing with him a $3 million
grant from the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation, a prominent health care
philanthropy.  The foundation described its unusually handsome grant to the
Partnership as "pivotal in leveraging ... support from other private
foundations."

On cue, the other foundations rolled over.  In 1989 and 1990, the ten largest
foundation grants for alcohol and drug abuse totaled $12.4 million.  The
Partnership took $4.7 million from that pool, or 38 percent.  Many an
individual donor gave its largest antidrug grant to the Partnership.  In
other words, the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation accelerated a trend: the
channeling of foundation money into public awareness, which is considered a
less effective form of drug-abuse prevention than school- and community-based
programs.

The Partnership's funders are usually kept secret, says Grant, to protect
them from other grant seekers and from the legalization lobby.  But the
Partnership's 1991 tax return reveals another motive for secrecy: conspicuous
support from the legal drug industry.  From 1988 to 1991, pharmaceutical
companies and their beneficiaries contributed as follows: the J. Seward
Johnson, Sr., Charitable Trusts ($1,100,000); Du Pont ($150,000); the Procter
& Gamble Fund ($120,000); the Brustol-Myers Squibb Foundation ($110,000);
Johnson & Johnson ($110,000); SmithKline Beecham ($100,000); the Merck
Foundation ($75,000); and Hoffman-La Roche ($50,000).

Pharmaceuticals and their beneficiaries alone donated 54 percent of te $5.8
million the Partnership took from its top twenty-five contributors from 1988
to 1991.  That 54 percent is conservative.  It doesn't include donations
under $90,000, and it doesn't include donations from the tobacco and alcohol
kings:  The Partnership has taken $150,000 each from Philip Morris, Anheuser-
Busch and RJR Reynolds, plus $100,000 from American Brands (Jim Beam, Lucky
Strike).

Coincidence?  Hardly.  The war on drugs is a war on illegal drugs, and the
Partnership's benefactors have a huge stake in keeping it that way.  They
know that when schoolchildren learn that marijuana and crack are evil,
they're also learning that alcohol, tobacco and pills are as American as
apple pie.

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AN ANTIDRUG MESSAGE GETS ITS FACTS WRONG
Scientific American (May 1990)

This public-service advertisement has recently appeared in dozens of U.S.
medical journals (see, for example, the inside back cover of the February 9
Journal of the American Medical Association).  It serves a noble purpose: to
reduce drug abuse through treatment.  Unfortunately, the claim that "last year,
15 million Americans used cocaine -- and 5 million of those who survived
required medical help" has no basis in fact.

The most recent estimates of cocaine use come from a household survey done in
1988 by the National Institute on Drug Abuse, the main federal agency support-
ing research on illicit drugs.  NIDA estimated that 8.2 million Americans --
not 15 million -- had used cocaine in the previous year.

That same year, NIDA received reports of 62,141 medical emergencies and 3,308
deaths in which cocaine was implicated, according to Nicholas J. Kozel, chief
epidemiologist at NIDA.  He adds that not all U.S. hospitals or physicians
report to NIDA, and that the actual numbers of people treated for cocaine-
related ailments are almost certainly higher.  But when asked what could be
the basis of the claim that "5 million of those who survived required medical
help," Kozel replied:  "I have no idea."

No one at the Partnership for a Drug-Free America, a consortium of businesses
that donate resources to publicize the dangers of illicit drugs, seems to know
the source of the ad's statistics either.  In response to a query from
Scientific American, Theresa V. Grant, a spokesperson for the Partnership,
investigated the ad.  She acknowledges that it is "plain wrong" and "should
have been pulled."

The ad was designed in 1987 by an advertising agency that is now defunct,
according to Grant.  (NIDA's estimates of cocaine use were higher then, but
still fell several million short of the figures cited in the ad.)  She
speculates that the ad's creators, whom she was unable to contact, "extrapo-
lated from a Newsweek article or something" in arriving at their figures.

The Partnership's pro bono nature and prolific output can make fact-checking
difficult, Grant notes.  Indeed, the cocaine-hotline message is only one of
about 200 ads developed by the Partnership since it formed three years ago.
One memorable television message compares a drug user's brain to a fried egg.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In addition, a St. Petersburg Times article (June 29, 1990) also takes the
PDFA to task for bad stats in another ad.  I don't have a copy of this article
but would appreciate anyone's help in getting one.  From the summary I've
seen, it's a pretty damning article.
-- 
	   __     __   _ __     __
	  /  )   /  ) ' )  )   /  `		Drug Abuse!
	 /  /   /--/   /--'   /--		    Resistance!
	/__/ o /  ( o /  \ o (___, o			Education!