That data came out a month later, and showed that suicides have fallen overall; a follow-up report showed that suicides have fallen among youth specifically. The total number remains higher than in 2003, but less than in 2004, when the FDA warning went into effect.
Given the complexity of epidemiological data and the rarity of suicide, those findings prove little except that any effort to link an uptick in suicides to reduced prescribing of antidepressant medications to children and teenagers is not supported by the epidemiological data.

Something about the simultaneously complex and sympathetic nature of mental health reporting is making reputable journalistic organizations and well-meaning reporters sloppy. Last year, NPR aired a documentary on antidepressants and suicide in a radio show called The Infinite Mind. The show featured the comments of experts with undisclosed ties to the drug industry. This alone drew the wrath of observers—yet, as chronicled by Jonathan Leo, Ph.D on the Web site Chemicalimbalance.org, the documentary was peppered with inaccurate statements and drug-industry-serving spin. Its host, the psychiatrist Frederick Goodwin, eventually came under fire for not disclosing his own history of receiving money from the drug industry.

As the cases of PBS and NPR make clear, reporters who hand over their microphones to clinicians harboring such conflicts are the health beat equivalent of Judith Miller handing over her discussion of WMDs to Ahmed Chalabi. “I will not believe anything he says,” a Nemeroff critic and fellow psychiatrist told the Atlanta Journal Constitution following his downfall. “I will not believe anything he writes.”

If a source has critics like this, and if the judges for the Peabody Awards—or reporters they praise—cannot locate these critics, we deserve better awards.

  • 1
  • 2