Arthur Hailey - Strong Medicine

"The answer is yes," Celia told him.”I know how you work, also that I can trust and rely on you. As to what's past, you made a mistake in judgment, which all of us do at times. It was bad luck that it turned out to be a mistake with awful consequences, but you weren't alone, and I imagine you've learned from the experience.”

"Oh, have I learned! And suffered, too, wishing I'd had the intelligence and guts to stick with you.”

"Don't necessarily stick with me," she advised.”Not even now. There'll be times when I'll be wrong, and if you think I am, I want to hear about it.”

After Celia's elevation to the presidency, there was a restructuring of duties, along with several promotions. Bill Ingram's was among them. He was already doing well in his new senior post.

Celia, now a full-fledged member of the board of directors, prepared carefully for the meeting which would consider her proposed Felding-Roth Doctrine. Bearing in mind what Sam once told her about his problems with the board, and remembering the resistance there had been, years before, to Sam's controversial plan for a British research institute, Celia expected opposition. To her surprise, there was little, almost none. One member of the board-Adrian Caston, who was chairman of a financial trust group and a cautious thinker--did ask, "Is it wise or necessary to block ourselves off permanently from a field of medicine which, at some future time, might see new and safer developments of a highly profitable nature?" They were meeting in the boardroom at company headquarters, and Celia answered, looking down the long walnut table, "Mr. Caston, I believe that is exactly what we should do. We should do it because we will also be blocking ourselves, and others who succeed us here, from the temptation, the chance, and the risk of involving this company with another Montayne.”

There was an attentive silence as she continued.”Memories fade quickly. Many young women now at the age of motherhood do not remember Thalidomide, indeed have never heard of it. In a few more years, that will be equally true of Montayne, at which point pregnant women will again take anything their doctors prescribe. But if it happens, let us have no part of it, remembering that the entire history of influencing, by drugs, the normal course of pregnancy has been burdened with disaster. "Time and experience have demonstrated pregnancy as the single health condition which is best left to nature alone. At Felding-Roth we are living with a pregnancy-drug disaster, paying dearly for it now. For the future we will do better-morally and financially-to seek our profits elsewhere and urge others to do likewise.”

Clinton Etheridge, a veteran director and lawyer, from whom Celia had expected antagonism, then spoke in her support. “Speaking of profits, I like Mrs. Jordan's idea of turning our Montayne debacle into a commercial advantage. In case the rest of you haven't noticed, this so-called doctrine"-the director held it up-"is damned clever. It's a smart piece of merchandising promotion for the other drugs we sell. It will have a strong dollar value, as I think we'll find in time.”

Inwardly Celia winced, then reminded herself that support was worth having, even if for wrong reasons. She also wondered about Etheridge, whom she knew to be a friend and ally of Vincent Lord's, and who sometimes brought the research director's viewpoints to board meetings, as Sam had discovered long ago. Lord knew about the Felding-Roth Doctrine, was aware it would be considered today, and he and Etheridge would almost certainly have discussed it. So... was the support she was now receiving a remote way of Lord's acknowledging to Celia his regrets about Montayne? She supposed she would never know. There was more discussion by the board members, mostly questions about how the doctrine would be put into effect. But it was the TV-radio network czar Owen Norton who had the final word. Looking at Celia from the opposite end of the boardroom table, Norton, who a few days earlier had celebrated his eighty-second birthday, observed dryly, "You may have noticed, Mrs. Jordan, that we are finally getting around to respecting your womanly judgment. I can only say, for myself and others like me, I am sorry we took so long.”

"Sir," Celia said, and meant it, "you have just made my day.”

The vote that followed, establishing the doctrine as official company policy, was unanimous.

The impact of the Felding-Roth Doctrine was substantial, though, with the general public, not as great as Celia had hoped. Doctors, with a few exceptions, liked it. One obstetrician wrote:

Kindly send me some extra copies, one of which I shall have framed to hang on my office wall. I intend to point to it when pregnant patients suggest I am serving them less than adequately if I decline to write a prescription for some palliative which, in my opinion, they would be better off without. You have, by your highly ethical stand, strengthened the hands of some of us who do not believe there is a drug for every occasion. More power to you!

The extra copies were sent-to that doctor and many others who requested them. Physicians who objected did so on the grounds that they, and not a pharmaceutical company, should advise patients about which drugs to take, or not, and when. But judging by the volume of mail, they were a small minority. The Felding-Roth Doctrine was featured widely in the company's advertising, though this was confined to medical and scientific magazines. Celia at first favored advertising in newspapers and general publications, but was persuaded this would create antagonism from organized medicine which, along with FDA, frowned on direct approaches to consumers about prescription drugs. Perhaps because of this absence, newspapers gave only minor attention to the Felding-Roth Doctrine. The New York Times ran a short two-paragraph story amid its financial news, the Washington Post buried a similar report in a rear section of the paper. Elsewhere, in other newspapers, brief items appeared if there happened to be room. Television, despite public relations attempts to persuade producers otherwise, paid no attention at all. "If we market a drug that turns out to have harmful side effects we didn't expect," Bill Ingram complained to Celia, "those TV news types take our skins off. But when we do something positive like this, all we get is yawns.”

"That's because TV journalism is simplistic," she responded.”Its people are trained to look for strong, quick impact, so they avoid the thoughtful, the cerebral, which take too much air time. Don't worry, though. At times that policy can help us.”

Ingram said doubtfully, "Be sure to tell me when it does.”

Reaction to the Felding-Roth Doctrine from other drug firms was mixed. Those who marketed products for use by women during pregnancy were openly hostile.”A cheap shot, shoddy publicity, nothing more," was how a spokesman for one such company described the doctrine publicly. From others came suggestions that Felding-Roth had attempted to be "holier than thou," and might have harmed the industry, though in what way was not made clear. However, one or two competitors were openly admiring. "Frankly," Celia was told by a respected industry leader, "I wish we'd thought of it first.”

"None of which proves anything," she confided to Andrew, "except you can't please everyone.”

"Be patient," he urged.”You've done something good, and you've started ripples which are spreading. In time, you'll be surprised how far they go.” Other rings of ripples were resulting from Montayne. One had its origin on Washington's Capitol Hill. Aides to a congressional veteran, Senator Dennis Donahue, had spent a year, on and off, reviewing the Montayne matter and now declared it an ideal subject for their leader to focus on at a Senate investigative hearing. "Ideal," in this case, meant with wide public interest, generous exposure and, almost certainly, television coverage. As the senator was apt to remind those closest to him politically, "Let's never forget TV is where the masses and the votes are.”