28 May 2015
The following two articles will further Validate for those Targeted Individual's who have long since accused those within Medical, Psychiatry/Psychology, and world of Academia have been directly involved in the criminal, illegal, non consensual Human Experiments' being conducted on unsuspecting individual's without their knowledge and or consent.
From my Website published in 2011 on ONE STOP SHOP - and how those within these fields of Expertise have in fact actively participated, covered up, sanctioned, and sponsored the heinous and egregious crimes against the human life and humanity of a defenseless Targeted Victim.
ONE STOP SHOP:
Places every aspect of Targeted Individual human life, to include living situation into a Laboratory and Breeding Ground Setting
for
recruitment, training, and deployment of operations, to include inviting
experts from Science, Technology, Education, Corporate, and Medical to
see how their REAL TIME HUMAN GUINEA PIG is doing, then do an analysis
in order to advance their experimental agendas
This includes
Extensive training in Military and other Agencies Expertise in the field
of: Information Operations Roadmap, and their Five Core Capabilities,
in concert with specified supporting and related capabilities:
(1) Psychological Operations, (2)
Military Deception, (3) Operations Security, (4) Computer Network Operations,
and (5) Electronic Warfare.
May 26, 2015
On April 26, 2015, Jeffrey Lieberman, former president of
the American Psychiatric Association, stirred up controversy by calling
investigative journalist Robert Whitaker a “menace to society ” on CBC radio because Whitaker, in his book Anatomy of an Epidemic , had challenged the long-term effectiveness of psychiatric medication.
But is it Whitaker or Lieberman who is a menace to society?
Lieberman, the APA president through May 2014, is currently making the media rounds with his new book Shrinks .
But earlier in his career, Lieberman conducted experiments in which
patients diagnosed with schizophrenia were given a psychostimulant drug
with Lieberman’s expectation that the drug would be “psychotogenic”
(induce symptoms of psychosis), and this deterioration in fact occurred.
Robert
Whitaker, as an investigative journalist, won the George Polk award for
medical reporting and was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize for Public
Service for his 1998 Boston Globe series “Doing Harm: Research on the
Mentally Ill” (co-authored with Dolores Kong). In this series, Whitaker
uncovered how Lieberman and other psychiatrists, exploring the biology
of psychosis, conducted experiments on more than 2,000 patients in which
certain drugs were administered and other drugs withheld in the
expectation of worsening symptoms.
The Nuremberg Code of
research ethics, established after the horrific human experiments by
doctors in Nazi Germany, states that medical experiments on human
subjects “should be so conducted as to avoid all unnecessary physical
and mental suffering and injury.” This is obvious ethics, as one would
hope that only Nazi doctors would see nothing wrong with using human
subjects to test whether hypothesized harmful agents are in fact
harmful.
Lieberman’s Experiments
In
his Globe series, Whitaker details how psychotic symptom exacerbation
and provocation experiments were pioneered in 1974 by David Janowsky,
who reported success in developing a new tool for studying
schizophrenia. Janowsky found that giving diagnosed schizophrenics the
psychostimulant drug methylphenidate (Ritalin, Concerta) caused “a
dramatic intensification of pre-existing symptoms, such as
hallucinations and delusions” and that other psychostimulants such as
amphetamines also exacerbated psychosis. Janowsky’s work established the
idea that psychosis-inducing drugs could be used as “challenge agents”
for studying psychosis.
In Lieberman’s own 1987 review
of 36 studies in which psychostimulant drugs were administered to
patients diagnosed with schizophrenia, he concluded that among
psychostimulant drugs, methylphenidate has the greatest “psychotogenic
potency.” And so Lieberman, in his subsequent experimentation on
patients diagnosed with schizophrenia, administered methylphenidate, the
psychostimulant with greatest likelihood to do damage.
In 1987, Lieberman conducted a study
in which he administered methylphenidate to 34 stable outpatients
previously diagnosed with schizophrenia. In this experiment, previously
stabilized patients were not only administered methylphenidate but taken
off standard antipsychotic drugs until psychotic symptoms reappeared.
In a 1990 study
co-authored by Lieberman, “Behavioral Response to Methylphenidate and
Treatment Outcome in First Episode Schizophrenia,” the introduction
states, “In order to examine the relationship of psychotogenic response
to psychostimulants and acute treatment response in treatment-naïve,
first-episode psychotic patients, we administered intravenous
methylphenidate to first-episode patients.”
On the face
of it, this experiment, in which a drug is administered to induce a
psychotic reaction, is cruel enough. But it gets worse. Lieberman’s
subjects were as young as 14 years old, and he did this experiment on
“first-episode psychotic patients,” the majority of whom, research shows ,
ordinarily recover. Lieberman reports that the symptom of
distrustfulness “significantly increased following the administration of
methylphenidate.” So, after having a psychotic episode, patients are
intravenously administered a psychostimulant drug designed to induce
more psychotic behaviors, and they become more distrustful. It would be
remarkable if such “treatment” would not make someone distrustful of
doctors, perhaps for the remainder of their lives.
Lieberman
reports his schizophrenic subjects and their families were “willing and
able to sign informed consent.” The Nuremberg Code states: “The
voluntary consent of the human subject is absolutely essential. This
means that the person involved should have the legal capacity to give
consent.” Who in their right mind would give consent for themselves or
for a family member for a procedure that was hypothesized to make a
patient worse?
In Whitaker’s Globe 1998 series in the segment “Testing Takes Human Toll ,”
he interviewed Lieberman about his and other psychotic symptom
exacerbation and provocation experiments. Lieberman asserted, “To say
that increasing a particular symptom—like hearing voices for a couple of
hours in somebody who has been hearing voices for 10 years—is causing
[suffering] rather seems like a stretch.”
Beyond the
callousness of his response, Lieberman is simply not telling the truth.
Recall his 1990 study was done on “first-episode psychotic patients,”
not on people who had been “hearing voices for 10 years.”
Lieberman
is elsewhere dishonest—or amazingly ignorant. In justifying why he
called Whitaker a menace to society, Lieberman stated on CBC radio that
research does not support Whitaker’s claim that many people diagnosed
with serious mental illness do better in the long term without
psychiatric medication. But the validity of Whitaker’s claim was acknowledged
in 2013 by the director of the National Institute of Mental Health who
pointed to some of the same research as had Whitaker. The NIMH director
in fact concluded, “We need to ask whether in the long-term, some
individuals with a history of psychosis may do better off
medication.” It is difficult to imagine that Lieberman is ignorant of
the NIMH director’s agreement with Whitaker.
Lieberman’s
psychotic symptom exacerbation and provocation studies are not his only
experiments that have upset ethicists. Lieberman’s CAFE
(Comparison of Atypicals in First Episode of Psychosis) study on the
effectiveness of antipsychotic drugs, conducted between 2002-2005, has
been severely criticized
by Carl Elliott, bioethics professor at the University of Minnesota.
Elliott detailed how one CAFE subject who committed suicide was coerced
into the study, and because of his psychotic state was incapable of
giving informed consent.
Why Would APA Elect Lieberman President?
Whitaker’s
Boston Globe series was actually not about Lieberman per se but was
really an indictment of the institution of psychiatry for large-scale
psychotic inducement research. Whitaker wrote:
In
their published accounts, doctors have told of injecting mentally ill
patients with drugs designed to exacerbate their delusions and
hallucinations. In prestigious journals, they have described studies in
which they withheld effective antipsychotic medication from desperate
patients who stumbled into hospital emergency rooms. In precise,
clinical terms, they have reported how they deliberately stopped giving
medication to stabilized schizophrenic patients to see how quickly they
became sick again. These studies were designed to gain knowledge that
might lead to improved treatments for schizophrenia and related
illnesses. But the experiments offered no possibility of therapeutic
benefit to the subjects and exposed them to some measure of psychic pain
and risk of long-term harm. Moreover, this controversial line of
experimentation has been marked by repeated instances in which
researchers failed to fully disclose the risks to the mentally ill
patients and obscured their true purposes.
Adil
Shamoo, professor of biochemistry at the University of Maryland School
of Medicine and founder of the journal Accountability in Research,
compared these psychotic symptom exacerbation and provocation studies to
the Tuskegee syphilis studies
in which infected black men were denied treatment. Shamoo told Whitaker
in 1998, “I think [these psychotic provocation experiments] are in a
category that is worse than Tuskegee. . .There are large numbers [of
subjects], and these are current practices. Do they cause harm? Of
course they do.”
Psychotic exacerbation and provocation
experiments, Whitaker reported, were conducted by prominent researchers
at the National Institute of Mental Health and at close to a dozen
leading medical schools. Patient subject for these studies were largely
drawn from outpatient clinics, Veterans Affairs hospitals, state mental
institutions, and emergency rooms—settings that regularly provide care
to the poor and uninsured. Whitaker noted, “In the few studies that
recorded the ethnic makeup of patients, 54 percent were minorities.”
Not
surprisingly, Whitaker also discovered that researchers routinely
failed to fully disclose the true purposes of their experiments, and
withheld information about risks, “The Globe’s review of
informed-consent forms for symptom-exacerbation studies at the NIMH
[National Institute of Mental Health] and four other leading psychiatric
institutions failed to turn up a single one in which the researchers
directly stated that a chemical agent would be used purposely to
exacerbate psychotic symptoms.”
George Annas, chairman
of the Health Law Department at Boston University School of Public
Health, told Whitaker, “We let researchers do things to people with
mental illness that we would never let them do to people with physical
illness.”
Why would the American Psychiatric Association
elect Lieberman president in 2012? Because psychiatry sees nothing
wrong with these psychotic symptom exacerbation and provocation
experiments.
Non-sociopathic people feel guilt or shame
for having induced suffering in others, so how could the APA not feel
guilt or shame about Lieberman and other psychiatrists conducting
experiments that create psychotic symptoms and suffering? The answer to
this question takes us to a very dark place.
Bruce E. Levine is a practicing clinical psychologist. His latest book is Get Up, Stand Up: Uniting Populists, Energizing the Defeated, and Battling the Corporate Elite .
MINNEAPOLIS
— IF you want to see just how long an academic institution can tolerate
a string of slow, festering research scandals, let me invite you to the
University of Minnesota, where I teach medical ethics.
Over
the past 25 years, our department of psychiatry has been party to the
following disgraces: a felony conviction and a Food and Drug
Administration research disqualification for a psychiatrist guilty of
fraud in a drug study; the F.D.A. disqualification of another
psychiatrist, for enrolling illiterate Hmong refugees in a drug study
without their consent; the suspended license of yet another
psychiatrist, who was charged with “reckless, if not willful, disregard”
for dozens of patients; and, in 2004, the discovery, in a halfway house
bathroom, of the near-decapitated corpse of Dan Markingson, a seriously
mentally ill young man under an involuntary commitment order who
committed suicide after enrolling, over the objections of his mother, in
an industry-funded antipsychotic study run by members of the
department.
And those, unfortunately, are just the highlights.
The
problem extends well beyond the department of psychiatry and into the
university administration. Rather than dealing forthrightly with these
ethical breaches, university officials have seemed more interested in
covering up wrongdoing with a variety of underhanded tactics. Reporting
in The Star Tribune discovered, for example, that in the felony case,
university officials hid an internal investigation of the fraud from
federal investigators for nearly four years.
I
hope that the situation at the University of Minnesota is exceptional.
But I know that at least one underlying cause of our problems is not
limited to us: namely, the antiquated bureaucratic apparatus of
institutional review boards, or I.R.B.s, which are supposed to protect
subjects of medical experimentation. Indeed, whether other institutions
have seen the kinds of abuses that have emerged at the University of
Minnesota is difficult to know, precisely because the current research
oversight system is inadequate to detect them.
The
current I.R.B. system of research protection arose in the 1970s. At the
time, many reformers believed the main threat to research subjects came
from overambitious government and university researchers who might be
tempted to overlook the welfare of research subjects.
As
a result, the scheme put in place for protecting subjects was not a
formal regulatory system but essentially an honor code. Under the I.R.B.
system, medical research studies are evaluated — on paper — by a panel
of academic volunteers. I.R.B.s do not usually monitor research as it is
taking place. They rarely see a research subject or even a researcher
face to face. Instead, they simply trust researchers to tell the truth,
report mishaps honestly and conduct their studies in the way that they
claim to be conducting them.
These
days, of course, medical research is not just a scholarly affair. It is
also a global, multibillion-dollar business enterprise, powered by the
pharmaceutical and medical-device industries. The ethical problem today
is not merely that these corporations have plenty of money to grease the
wheels of university research. It’s also that researchers themselves
are often given powerful financial incentives to do unethical things:
pressure vulnerable subjects to enroll in studies, fudge diagnoses to
recruit otherwise ineligible subjects and keep subjects in studies even
when they are doing poorly.
With
so much money at stake in drug research, research subjects need a
full-blown regulatory system. I.R.B.s should be replaced with oversight
bodies that are fully independent — both financially and institutionally
— of the research they are overseeing. These bodies must have the
staffing and the authority to monitor research on the ground. And they
must have the power to punish researchers who break the rules and
institutions that cover up wrongdoing.
Here
at the University of Minnesota, we have reached a critical point. Two
months ago, after two blistering external investigations, university
officials finally agreed to suspend recruitment for psychiatric drug
studies. Yet they still refuse to admit any serious wrongdoing.
An
honor code is a fragile thing. All the parts have to be in place: pride
in the integrity of an institution, vigilant self-policing, a
collective sense of shame when the code is violated and a willingness to
punish those who break it. At the University of Minnesota, we have very
few of those things. And so without sustained, relentless pressure from
the outside, I am afraid we are doomed to more of the same.
Carl Elliott,
a professor at the Center for Bioethics at the University of Minnesota,
is the author of “White Coat, Black Hat: Adventures on the Dark Side of
Medicine.”
