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Furthermore, the company sponsored its own research studies, organized a conference to announce the results, and paid for publication of the conference papers as a supplement to the Journal of Rheumatology. Not unexpectedly, the sponsored researchers raised questions and produced data that appeared to exonerate Showa Denko. In contrast, the one independent paper (“prepared by US Government employees and entirely funded by the US Government”) concluded that the Showa Denko tryptophan supplement caused the EMS epidemic. The government scientists charged that the studies sponsored by Showa Denko were

based on supposition, surmise, and conjecture. [They] direct attention toward potential biases or confounding events with a low probability of having occurred and a still lower probability of having had a substantial effect on the studies reviewed. In so doing, they direct the reader’s attention away from the combined weight of evidence of the studies, which strongly supports a causal association of Showa Denko LT [tryptophan] and epidemic EMS.41

To date, the toxic component remains “incompletely characterized,” making it difficult to institute preventive measures. In this case, the company’s self-interested stance not only interfered with finding the cause of the disease but also failed to resolve lingering uncertainties about the safety of the genetic engineering processes used in manufacturing the supplements.

Toxic Proteins: The Pusztai Affair

Next we turn to the possibility that genetic engineering might cause foods to produce toxic substances, in this case, lectins. Lectins are proteins in plants that are naturally toxic to insects and nematode worms. They do not bother us because we cook lectin-rich foods—kidney beans, for example—long enough to unravel the structure of the proteins and destroy their function. In 1998, an investigator in Scotland announced that rats became ill when they ate transgenic lectins, thereby initiating a political furor of quite astonishing proportions.

This story begins soon after the peak of the mad cow disease epidemic in Great Britain, a crisis that resulted not only in the downfall of the British beef industry but also in the loss of public confidence in scientists and government (see concluding chapter). In this context, Dr. Arpad Pusztai, a long-time researcher at the Rowett Research Institute in Aberdeen, applied for and won a competitive contract to see how rats might react to consuming transgenic potatoes containing lectins. Dr. Pusztai isolated genes for lectins from snowdrop plants and transferred them into potatoes. For comparison, he physically inserted purified lectins into other potatoes. He fed the transgenic potatoes to one group of rats and the lectin-added conventional potatoes to another group. All of the rats reacted badly to lectins, but the ones fed the transgenic potatoes fared worse.42 On August 10, 1998, Dr. Pusztai—bravely or foolishly, depending on one’s point of view—appeared on television to announce that the rats fed transgenic potatoes showed signs of growth retardation and some immune system dysfunctions. He said: “If you gave me the choice now, I wouldn’t eat it,” and it would be “very, very unfair to use our fellow citizens as guinea pigs.”43

Dr. Pusztai based these comments on studies not yet published or subjected to peer review. Industry officials charged that because of his remarks, “the whole of the biotechnology industry had gone up in smoke,” and they would now be faced with consumer opposition that would take years to undo.44 The head of the Rowett Institute defended the work at first, but quickly changed his mind. After reviewing the data and judging it flawed, he sealed Dr. Pusztai’s laboratories, forced him to retire, barred him from speaking to the press, and ordered a formal audit of his data—actions that received front-page press attention and did nothing to calm public alarm about food biotechnology in Great Britain or Europe.

As might be expected from a review of provisional results,