Sentenced to Science: One Black Man's Story of Imprisonment in America (2007).

McGinn, Michelle K.

Sentenced to Science: One Black Man's Story of Imprisonment in America (2007)

Allen M. Hornblum

Foreword by Harriet A. Washington

Penn State Press, 232 pp.

Prisons are filled with people who have made bad choices in life that have exposed them to tremendous risks and sometimes life-threatening or debilitating injuries. In Sentenced to Science, Alien Hornblum documents the life of Yusef Abdul Saliquu. As a younger man, then known as Edward or Butch Anthony, Yusef was involved with drugs and crimes to support his addiction; he did not always fulfill his family obligations as father, husband, son, or brother. While he takes full responsibility for those decisions and has changed those life patterns, this book focuses upon another set of decisions that had an even more devastating effect on his life: Yusef agreed to participate in research studies while he was incarcerated at Holmesburg Prison in Philadelphia. This book describes the circumstances and the consequences of his decisions to participate in research, and it is for these reasons that research administrators will want to hear his story.

The story line for this book is familiar. Many reports have been published documenting the ways that the most vulnerable in society--those compromised by the interrelated effects of poverty, racism, literacy challenges, mental illness, health issues, and substance use--have been violated in the name of scientific research (Jones, 1981; Washington, 2006). Thousands of stories could be told about men and women who have been subjected to such abuse. Following the atrocities of World War II, most nations curtailed or eliminated clinical research studies in prisons, but this was not the case in the US. Holmesburg Prison, for example, was the site of an extremely active research program for the University of Pennsylvania from the 1950s through the 1970s under the leadership of Albert Kligman, a professor of dermatology. During those years, an astonishing 75 % of the prisoners housed at Holmesburg participated in one or more research studies investigating detergents, deodorants, analgesics, antidepressants, diet pills, hormones, psychoactive drugs, chemical warfare agents, radioactive isotopes, and a host of other topics. The studies were variously sponsored by pharmaceutical or cosmetic companies, or the US army. Kligman and the University of Pennsylvania are reputed to have earned millions of dollars from these research studies, as well as the recognition associated with numerous scientific publications and awards. The details of the research program and its ill effects on the young men exposed to the risks of these studies are documented in detail in Hornblum's award-winning expose, Acres of Skin (1998), and profiled in chapter 10 of Harriet Washington's Medical Apartheid(2006) (see the review by Walker, 2008, in a previous issue of this journal).

In contrast to these earlier works, Sentenced to Science moves away from statistics and densely worded reporting to provide a closer, more personal look at the experience of one person: Edward "Butch" Anthony, a 20-year-old young man caught up in drugs and petty crime, as he moves in and out of the Philadelphia prison system from 1963 to 1983, emerging as Yusef Abdul Saliquu, a Muslim leader in his community. The personal story of this one man provides readers with an opportunity to empathize and understand on an emotional level the broader issues addressed in these earlier works. Extensive portions of the book are presented as direct quotes from this man (noted in italics in this review), providing an intimate and conversational tone that speaks to readers on a personal level.

In the opening chapter, readers meet Butch, a slim, young man housed in Pennsylvania's most violent prison, and witnessing daily the assaults of other young men, including sexual assaults, especially of other slim, young men like himself. He was not yet accustomed to the unrelenting noise, sex, violence, and pressure of a big-city prison with its tightly controlled routines. All around him, prisoners were able to purchase cigarettes, candy bars, and other small luxuries to relieve the daily stresses of this violent place. He had no money. His family--disappointed by his drug use and imprisonment--was unlikely to send any. Butch had only been in jail for a few days and was still waiting to begin his new job in the tailor shop. Until then, he was broke and had little to do. His cell mates, older friends from the neighbourhood who were looking out for his interests, had found a good experiment in which he could participate to earn some money: My homeys said they had taken care of me and I'd be okay. They said they had made sure I wouldn't be put on any of the experiments where I'd get hurt. They told me I'd be able to make some money and wouldn't be hurt too bad. (p. 1)

Testing bubble bath sounded harmless, and Butch could earn $37 in just two to three weeks, much more than the 25 cents that he would make per day in the tailor shop, and certainly easy work. Just as the social worker had said during orientation, he could let time serve him, instead of just serving time, He arrived on H block, where the tests were conducted: Strange-looking medical equipment was all over the place. There were a bunch of doctors walking around doing stuff, but then I realized the guys in white smocks weren't doctors at all, but inmates. There were inmates doing all the work. In a way, I felt better. I thought the tests couldn't be that bad if they had prisoners doing them. If the experiments were really something serious, I would've seen more real doctors on the block. (p. 1)

The research assistant asked Butch to remove his shirt, used tape to remove the first layer of skin in six locations on Butch's back, moistened gauze pads with the bubble bath solution, and then taped the gauze pads to each location. I'm thinking, this ain't too bad. I can handle this. He tells me we're just about done, and I'm not feeling any pain or anything. I'm thinking my guys really took care of me. I'm making money for nothing. (p. 2)

As a final step, the research assistant sprayed a fixative over Butch's entire back. That was when things changed. As soon as the spray hit my back it was cold and I began to taste it in my mouth. It tasted bitter and I swear I could feel it seeping in my body. I thought it was toxic or something 'cause I started to feel dizzy.... It tasted like mentholated alcohol. My tongue was beginning to get cold like my back. It was making me feel really nauseous.... He then sends me back to my cell block. While crossing center I'm feeling even more nauseous. I get onto G block and wobble to my cell with this disgusting taste in my mouth and all this stuff on my back, and as soon as I lift my leg to step in my cell I fell out. I passed right out. (pp. 2-3)

So begins the story of Butch Anthony's painful entrance into the world of research subject, provided with insufficient information and exposed to unacceptable risks in exchange for meager financial compensation and a lifetime of health complications. As Hornblum explains, Literally overnight, Butch Anthony, a healthy, vibrant black man and survivor of one of the most unforgiving ghettos in America, had unknowingly embarked on a confidence-searing and health-shattering journey as harrowing as any landmine-laden trip one could envision. (p. 7)

It's a tale of the dangers of life in prison, the dangers faced by one who has "not only been sentenced to prison, but sentenced to science as well" (p. 7). As a result of participation in the bubble bath test and two other studies, Butch developed a host of medical complications, all documented in his powerful voice. Readers will learn of his resulting rashes, swelling, hemorrhoids, paranoia, anger, terrifying visions, and suicidal thoughts. Based upon these experiences as a research subject, it is not surprising that Butch developed a fear of doctors that discouraged him from seeking medical attention for these and other unrelated conditions that he encountered. It is difficult to trust a profession and a system that could allow young men like Butch to be exposed to these tests, especially while imprisoned. Even now, as an older man, Yusef is unable to trust medical researchers in prisons. His response to the Ethical Considerations for Research Involving Prisoners report (National Academy of Sciences, 2006) echoes these strong reservations: They may have good intentions ... but jail is too risky and corrupt a place to have tests on humans. Whatever comes in those places is gonna get outta hand. It's gonna turn into something far worse and more dangerous than they ever expected. The protocols and testing may start off proper, but once the public is no longer watching, it will take a totally different direction. I know what goes on in these prisons. They told us years ago, everything will be all right. All the research is safe, and being done by the best doctors. But look what they did to me and all the other guys. I don't believe them anymore.... A lot of medical people and corporations made serious money from those tests, but all we ended up with was scars, bad memories, and a life of pain. It was wrong the first time they did that stuff to us. I don't believe they deserve a second shot. (pp. 199-200)

The National Academy of Sciences report (2006) emphasizes the inclusion of perspectives from prisoners and prisoner advocates. Research administrators must heed the voices of men like Yusef. Listening carefully to the voice of a research participant enables the "subject-centred" approach that is at the heart of ethics review policies such as Canada's Tri-Council Policy Statement: Ethical Conduct for Research Involving Humans (Canadian Institutes of Health Research, Natural Sciences and Engineering Research Council of Canada, Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada, 1998). The highest levels of scrutiny and care are essential when the stakes are so high and the legacy so devastating. In Hornblum's words, "The history of the relationship between medical research and prisons in America is not a very comforting one. Uncomfortable to recall, it would be a travesty to relive" (p. 199). Sentenced to Science is an important book that will remind readers to keep a vigilant eye to avoid repeating the mistakes of the past; it should be required reading for all who contemplate research in prisons.

References

Canadian Institutes of Health Research, Natural Sciences and Engineering Research Council of Canada, Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada. (1998). Tri-council policy statement: Ethical conduct far research involving humans (with 2000, 2002, 2005 amendments). Retrieved August 11, 2009, from http://www. pre.ethics.gc.ca/english/policystatement/policystatement.cfm

Hornblum, A. M. (1999). Acres of skin: Human experiments at Holmesburg Prison: A true story of abuse and exploitation in the name of medical science. New York: Routledge.

Jones, J. H. (1981). Bad blood: The Tuskegee syphilis experiment. New York: The Free Press.

National Academy of Sciences. (2006). Ethical considerations far research involving prisoners. Retrieved August 11, 2009, from http://www.nap.edu

Walker, L. (2008). [Review of the book Medical apartheid: The dark history of medical experimentation on Black Americans from colonial times to present]. Journal of Research Administration, 39(2), 99-102.

Washington, H. A. (2006). Medical apartheid.. The dark history of medical experimentation on Black Americans from colonial times to present. New York: Doubleday.

Michelle K. McGinn, PhD

Faculty of Education, Brock University

500 Glenridge Ave

St. Catharines ON L2S 3A1 Canada

Tel: 905-688-5550 x. 4730

Email: mcginn@brocku.ca