Monday, Apr. 12, 1971
Debate over Laetrile
In a motel room in Imperial Beach, Calif., the thin man from Arizona puffed nervously on a cigarette as he told his story. Suffering from cancer of the lung, he was told last fall that he had only months to live. Two weeks ago, he came to Imperial Beach, and since then he has regularly driven across the border to Tijuana, Mexico, and visited a clinic where he receives a shot of Laetrile, a controversial drug that has been outlawed in the U.S. since 1963. Already, he claims to be better. Says he: "I feel now like I'm not going to die."
Out of Apricots. Laetrile is a drug made from apricot pits and contains cyanide, among other things. It is one of the most long-lived, though probably not the last, of a long series of questionable cancer "cures," all of which are susceptible to exploitation. Since conventional medicine concedes that it has no sure cure for many types of cancer, those condemned to die from the disease are understandably willing to try anything. Laetrile was developed in 1950 by Ernst T. Krebs Jr., a biochemist who studied at but did not graduate from Hahnemann Medical College in Philadelphia. Krebs claimed that Laetrile, which he labeled vitamin B17, can prevent all cancers by alleviating the nutritional deficiency that he is convinced causes the disease. The U.S. Food and Drug Administration, however, disagreed. In the absence of clinical proof that Laetrile actually worked against cancer, the agency refused in 1963 to allow its interstate shipment.
Modest Fees. The FDA's order, however, did not stifle interest in the drug. Manufacturers in Mexico and Monaco are now producing Laetrile, and California's McNaughton Foundation, which also funds research in diabetes, parapsychology and heart disease, championed its cause. Nor did the FDA warning frighten the desperate. Since 1963, more than 2,500 American cancer sufferers, many of whom had given up on other treatments, have flocked to the Tijuana clinic, which is run by affable Dr. Ernesto Contreras, a graduate of the Mexican Army Medical School.
Contreras' claims for Laetrile are as modest as his fees. The doctor charges only $10 for a first visit, $7 for subsequent visits, $3 for a gram of the drug. He says that Laetrile is just "another chemotherapeutic agent against cancer," though it seems clear that many of his patients feel otherwise. They claim complete cures or remissions after only months on the drug. Their contentions are difficult to assess, since few have submitted themselves for examinations at recognized medical facilities.
The U.S. medical establishment has continued to take a hard line on Laetrile. The American Cancer Society and the American Medical Association oppose the drug on the grounds that its efficacy is unproved. So does the FDA, which says: "There is no evidence, either preclinical or clinical, that it would be effective. There is not the slightest hint that it would work."
Few oppose Laetrile more strongly than Grant Leake, chief of the fraud section of California's bureau of food and drugs. In late February, his agents arrested five people, including Krebs and a woman who ran a rooming house catering to Dr. Contreras' patients. All the suspects were charged with conspiracy or violations of the state's drug laws. The crackdown is described as a necessary action to protect the gullible. Says Leake: "We're going to protect them even if some of them don't want to be protected."
Refused Test. Krebs and others have repeatedly appealed to the FDA for permission to conduct controlled tests of Laetrile's effectiveness. But few scientists have supported the request. An exception is Dr. Dean Burk, head of the cytochemistry section of the National Cancer Institute. He has tested Laetrile on mice, and concludes: "The stuff is absolutely harmless, so why not give it a try?" Why not indeed? A test could resolve, once and for all, the question of Laetrile's effectiveness. In the absence of such a test, the debate--and the accusations --can only continue.
This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.