In the Darker Shadow of Science

About the Book

SYNOPSIS

A few decades ago mention of cancer emerged from hushed embarrassed silence into the brightness of the public arena. Previously the affliction had been referred to as little as possible; its victims were described as having died `after a long illness'. Once the disease was out of the shadows fear, hopelessness, pain, tragedy, bereavement and enforced loneliness came to be openly spoken and written about. The gigantic costs of modern treatments, sometimes causing homes to be mortgaged in the illusory hope of saving loved ones, bring commerce, politics and financial blackmail into noisy public collision.

In the world of books what began as a slender trickle of cancer experiences and biographies has become a flood. A similar phenomenon attends Alzheimer's disease today. Always victims and relatives occupy centre stage; doctors and scientists sensibly remain silent. One reason may be the poor record of success. One in three of the UK population will at some time be diagnosed with the disease; only a twelfth will survive. In cancer treatment there has not been a great deal to celebrate. The present autobiography grabs the vacant ground, and covers almost half the life of a scientist dedicated to finding a solution to the most difficult problem faced by medicine ancient and modern.

Let the reader not be put off by the word science in the title. In the experience of the author the dichotomy between science and the arts, eloquently described by CP Snow in his famous lecture The Two Cultures and the Scientific Revolution, has taken on the form of resentment towards science. In a modern society, where so much of the ease of our existence is due to the advances made by science and technology, everybody has a social duty to keep him/herself informed. The benefits of science are everywhere around us. Cars, aeroplanes, Tvs, computers, medicine; the list is endless. Nobody can afford to ignore its myriad manifestations, and that includes stories of discovery and politics. Some individuals parade their ignorance of science as a badge of honour; their idle and insidious attitudes are dangerous for us all.

But all is not well. Anyone who believes that the conduct of research and administration in cancer is guided by decency, morality and integrity is in for a violent shock. The world of science is presented in the raw. Nothing is spared, not even the author himself. Intrigue, ruthless double-dealing, commercial pressures, jealousy, deceit, sabotage, corruption and betrayal, especially the irreversible professional damage caused by drug-induced psychosis in a senior colleague, enliven the narrative. The scientific content has been simplified with a predominantly lay readership in mind; for easy avoidance the more technical passages, comprising 3% of the text, are rendered in italics. A glossary and an index are appended.

The peculiar arrival in 1974 of a radical idea led to a discovery which opened up an entirely new perspective on cancer treatment. Seriously disadvantaged by already being in his early forties at the commencement of the project, about to be out of a job, and lacking a medical qualification, the author was beguiled into making the naive and foolish error that, once established, a concept which humanely revolutionised the field of cancer therapy could not but find acceptance. The idea was simple, original and elegant; namely, that disrupting energy metabolism within cancer cells might perhaps be the key to controlling the growth of malignant tumours. In fact the concept turned out to be a revolutionary discovery. Incredible as it may seem, it is still not generally recognised that this is the main mechanism whereby cancerous cells are selectively destroyed in the living body.

- 2 -

A few years after the project began isolated reports in the medical literature of cancer regression in patients treated with relatively innocuous well-known drugs long out of patent were traced. None of these lines of enquiry had been properly followed up. Much later a chance acquaintanceship revealed that a safe and long-established drug, promethazine, was for the moment the anti-cancer agent of choice. The outcome was a tangible, humane and inexpensive DIY therapy which began to prove successful in an encouraging number of cases. After it was published on the internet, the prototype treatment opened up valuable contacts in Australia. But in England no drug company, no cancer charity, no research council and not even a sympathetic clinician would look at it.

As writing about science goes the story is explosive. The public has been deceived into believing that the entire machinery of cancer, from fund raising and charities to scientists, clinicians and drug companies, is genuinely committed to defeating this monster of a disease. Although the majority of the personnel in cancer are convinced they are doing a solid, honest job, a manipulative clique arranges matters very differently. Does society really want a simple solution to the cancer problem? Is it acceptable to allow those with the power to stifle unconventional yet promising lines of enquiry to behave autocratically? Is financial gluttony on behalf of shareholders more important than genuinely helping the victims of cancer? Let it not be forgotten that at the end of the day the ultimate sacrifices are made by dying patients and relatives keenly feeling the sharp distressing shock of bereavement.

As the project progressed scientifically, professional support waned and fell away. Opposition mounted until peer communication broke down in an atmosphere increasingly charged with hostility. Demoralisation set in as a consequence of being shunned by the medical profession and an inability to persuade a sufficient number of patients in this country that the new treatment had anything to offer. No matter how closely a general solution to the cancer problem is neared, it is now largely for commercial reasons that advances in treatment are being deliberately restricted to small, highly costly steps.

James Watson's highly successful autobiography The Double Helix (1968) and June Goodfield's Cancer under Siege (1975) are the nearest examples of comparable works in the genre. Step by step an age-old enigma is seen to be logically unravelled, beginning with a premonition and leading to ultimate scientific, though not clinical or commercial, success. The story follows the central character across the switchbacks of success and failure in his isolated quest at the cutting edge of research, intimately sharing emotional highs and lows. Despite running into an occasional blind alley, the basic aim of developing a safe therapy for cancer was kept in steady focus throughout.

The covert role of the drug companies in thwarting the project has become more open. For example, the publication of this edition prompted the appearance on the web of a document, Promethazine - Teratogenic Agent, which is brought up by entering promethazine and cancer into Google. Not only is the drug not teratogenic, but several other sites recommend its use as the agent of choice for the treatment of morning sickness. Similar problems are anticipated in the future.

This is the kind of story which the reading public likes to read about decades after the event; but this situation could not be more different. Events at the interface between cancer and its human victims are happening now, every minute of every day all over the world. And that concerns each and every one of us. The narrative ends on an ambivalent note; had the effort of a lifetime had been foolishly squandered, or was the hope that one day vindication might be achieved genuine and not illusory? Let the reader judge.
August 2010.

About the Author

Dr Robert Jones was born in Yorkshire, England. He graduated from the University of Cambridge in 1954 and was later awarded a PhD by the University of London. Since 1959 he has devoted most of his professional life to cancer, and has worked on the disease in London, Munich and Heidelberg.