Three years ago, just after Dolly   the sheep was cloned, a Chicago   television talk show asked attorney   Nanette Elster, a specialist in reproductive   technologies, to debate the   issue of cloning humans. Also on the   show that day was a doctor in favor of   advancing this research so that one day   humans might use it. The host invited   the doctor to speak first and introduced   him with words of respect, referring   to him as “a genius who leads   infertile couples to the fertile delta.”   He then allowed the doctor to take as   long as he wanted to explain his position.   When it was Elster’s turn to speak,   the host’s introduction was not nearly   as laudatory, nor was the time or attention   she was given at all similar. Barely   had she begun her rebuttal when the   host motioned to a surprise group of   additional guests, the royal blue-faced   performance group, the Blue Man   Group, to appear on the set. Members   of Blue Man Group started lobbing   cream cheese balls over Elster’s head   into each other’s mouths, diverting attention   from anything she might be   saying.
It was an appalling display of how   some media outposts treat coverage of   these kinds of critical and curious topics.   During my 21 years as a practicing   attorney, law professor and author of   books about reproductive and genetic   technologies, I have had many opportunities   to observe media coverage of   these issues. And, on average, five reporters   try to reach me every day for   comment and background information   to inform their stories. The day the   Baby M surrogate mother case was   decided more than 100 reporters called   me. When Dolly was born, I had so   many calls it was not possible to return   even one-tenth of them. Perhaps it is   not a coincidence that my telephone rings more often during   “sweeps” week; producers   realize that these stories   have the potential   to appeal to a wide audience.
Through all of this, I   have been continually   struck by the one-sided   coverage I’ve seen in the   broadcast media. There   is a herd mentality that   focuses on one approach   to the subject and then,   after milking it, switches   to the opposite approach.   Usually the one-sided   coverage is not   evident in a single show,   as it was in the situation   that Elster found herself   in when her perspective   was all but obliterated   by a circus act. Generally,   an entire show is   devoted to a particular   take on an issue. In fact,   news and talk show producers   who call me often   have a particular   viewpoint they want to   ply and they are seeking a “talking   head” to mouth that perspective. As a   result, the broadcast coverage rarely, if   ever, does justice to the complexities   of these issues.
If we look at the issue of surrogate   motherhood in terms of broadcast   media coverage, we can locate some of   these media trends that unfortunately   continue today. During the early 1980’s,   when surrogate motherhood became a   topic of national debate, producers   would call and ask me to appear on   morning news shows. They’d tell me   they wanted me to talk about what they   called “the gift of life:” a woman unselfishly   serving as a surrogate mother. I   would try to explain that the issue was   more complex. I’d describe how some   women might be psychologically   harmed by serving as the home for a   fetus but losing a maternal connection   with the child after birth. But the producers   didn’t want to hear about this.   Then, when surrogate Mary Beth Whitehead   decided to keep the baby she had   contracted to bear, all of a sudden   those same producers were calling to   ask me to discuss “reproductive prostitution.”   Actually, they were asking me   to talk about the same thing, surrogate   motherhood, but in their quest for a simple story line they didn’t realize   that they’d made a 180 degree turn in   their portrayal of this issue. Again,   though, they were not interested in   conveying the broader, more complicated   contexts, nor in sharing the fact   with viewers that most surrogate arrangements   seem to work out for all of   the parties involved.
Reproductive and genetic technologies   will continue to be of enormous   interest to reporters—both print and   broadcast—because they provide possibilities   for telling compelling stories.   There is the key ingredient of human   interest—the couple desperate to have   a child or the woman fearful that she   will die from breast cancer as her   mother did. There is a gee-whiz scientific   angle, too, as new technologies   seem to leap right out of science fiction   and into doctors’ offices.
But this desire to focus on those   who are desperate to find ways to have   a biological child or on the science   behind these advances can lead reporters   to miss what, in my view, are some   of the most important stories about   what’s happening in this field. Because   it isn’t possible to visually portray or to   interview a potential child, scant attention   is given to numerous studies that   indicate that some of these technologies   might pose real risks for the children.   High order multiple births are   heralded as medical “miracles” without   attention paid to the statistic that   16 percent of the babies die in the first   month of life. New options such as egg   freezing are hyped by the press without   acknowledgement of studies suggesting   genetic damage to the eggs.   And because reporters are accustomed   to dealing with scientists as neutral   experts, they tend to overlook one of   the more troubling aspects of this research:   the dramatic commercialization   of academic and government science   due to changes in the law during   the 1980’s.
This latter circumstance has all the   elements of what makes great   storytelling—greed, conflict of interest,   big business, politics and potential   risks to patients. But these story lines   are more difficult to dig out than ones   that emerge from interviewing an infertile   patient, and so are rarely told.
That said, some newspaper reporters   are doing this kind of investigative   work and finding compelling ways to   tell these important stories. Rick Weiss,   a reporter at The Washington Post, and   Robert Lee Hotz, a reporter at the Los   Angeles Times, have each provided in-depth   coverage of some of the risks in   the ever expanding fertility business.   Mitchell Zuckoff, Alice Dembner and   Matt Carroll, at The Boston Globe, researched   and wrote a revealing series   on “a billion-dollar taxpayers’ subsidy   for pharmaceutical companies already   awash in profits.” Their reporting   pointed to the unfairness of private   companies getting exclusive benefit of   publicly funded research.
Tough reportorial scrutiny should   be applied also to decisions of taxpayer-funded researchers at the National   Institutes of Health as they patent   genes for private gain and enter into   commercial ventures with biotech companies.   Of course, these types of articles   are more difficult and time consuming   to undertake; they require more   research and run the risk of alienating   important researchers and institutions   that have been long-standing sources.   But reporting such as this is crucial to   providing the public with a more textured   picture of what is happening   with these technologies.
There remain many more aspects of   these breakthroughs and practices that   could use the kind of public attention   that good reporting can elicit. Such   potential areas of inquiry include the   following:
- Deficiencies in informed consent at in-vitro fertilization clinics.
 - Ways in which clinics routinely exaggerate success rates in their promotional advertisements.
 - Consequences that arise from the misuse of fertility drugs.
 - The practice some clinics engage in when they sell patients’ “excess” embryos to biotech companies for use in developing pharmaceutical products.
 - The reason for errors in genetic testing and the consequences.
 - The deficiencies of regulatory oversight for emerging technologies.
 
Along the way I’ve also had my share   of strange encounters with the media.   And these encounters have led me to   have experiences that I would not otherwise   have had, some of which sent   my thinking in new and valuable directions.   Others just served as momentary   distractions or, even worse, as irritants.   I was once asked by a reporter on a   religious television station whether   clones would have souls. I suggested   that if the minister/host thought identical   twins each had souls, then later-born   twins, clones, would as well. I’ve   sparred on Oprah with a woman who   wanted to use her dead son’s sperm to   create her own grandchild.
But more often than not, my contacts   with reporters have benefited my   own work by serving as a sort of early   warning system. They find out what is   happening in my field before anyone   else. They learn about the local couple   who are suing over custody of a frozen   embryo or of a judge’s decision to stop   an employer from doing genetic testing.   I’ve found that the quickest way to   get information about developments   in reproductive and genetic technologies   is to have a reporter fax it to you.   I learned about the cloning of Dolly   before the rest of the world did because   Gina Kolata, a reporter at The   New York Times, called me for an advance   comment on it. Of course, such   information flows enhance coverage   as well, by allowing the expert to comment   more knowledgeably on the scientific   research or legal case at issue.
Also, by keeping an eye on what   news shows are covering in this field, I   am able to get a pretty good sense of   what people care about. This habit also   gets me out of the ivory tower of   academia where faculty members assume   everyone cares about the same   things they do. It propels me into the   popular culture arena where I find out   what issues these concerns of mine   will have to compete with in order to   be made part of the political conversation. And it also reminds me what opposing   arguments sound like.
It was, after all, an experience on   television that taught me how truly   specialized scientists are. I was on “CBS   Morning News” with a scientist who   specialized in gene therapy. The host   asked him a question about how many   diseases could be screened for while   the fetus was growing. I was aware of at   least 350 disorders that could be assessed   through amniocentesis. However,   this gene therapy researcher (who   did not do prenatal diagnosis) answered   “three.” The lesson I learned   that morning is one I hope reporters   will have learned by the time they start   asking questions for coverage of these   stories.
I’ve also witnessed ways in which   researchers can misstate the facts or   the law to achieve their goals. On one   news show I was on, an in-vitro fertilization   doctor said that she told her   patients that embryo donation is illegal   in her state (which was not true) and   encourages her patients to donate their   excess embryos to her for use in her   own research. On a PBS broadcast soon   after the public disclosures that the   Department of Energy had undertaken   radiation experiments on people without   their knowledge or consent, the   Marcus Welby-looking doctor who appeared   on the show with me assured   the audience that no improper experimentation   was going on at his hospital.   I knew of such research there, but had   been bound by confidentiality not to   disclose it.
In short, working with members of   the media provides the perfect training   ground for addressing these issues in   the policy sphere. Like many in the   media, lawmakers’ attention spans are   short. They have many other matters   on their plates and they might be receiving   erroneous or misleading advice from groups who are likely to be   subject to the potential regulations.
Increasingly, it seems, these two   domains—media and politics—are intersecting.   Legislators are drawn to issues   that can garner them publicity.   For example, a swarm of Illinois state   lawmakers introduced bills to ban human   cloning immediately after Richard   Seed, an independent scientist, set the   media world afire with his vow to do   just that in his state. That these laws   duplicated ones already languishing   without action in the Illinois legislature   was overlooked in the rush for   new publicity. Rather than vote on   those, Johnny-come-lately lawmakers   introduced their own bills in order to   be able to hold press conferences that   the press dutifully covered. The reporters   did not do a good job of informing   the public that similar bills   already existed. And the quickest that I   have ever been able to get a bill introduced   was when, on the Phil Donahue   show, I mentioned a problem with   anonymous donor insemination. All of   a sudden, a Washington, D.C. councilman   who had seen the show had introduced   a bill to deal with my concern.   (That particular bill didn’t pass.)
Relying on the media is surely not   the best way to craft policy in this   country. Too often the ideas that take   hold are ones that can be explained in   a catchy phrase or pithy sound bite.   These are not always the ideas or issues   that really need to be understood if   sound policy decisions are to be made.   “We don’t believe in sound bites,” one   PBS producer said, trying to lure me on   his show by promising the unusual   chance to discuss issues in depth. He   went on to explain what it was he   wanted: “We believe in more light, less   heat.” I thought to myself, “Now that’s   the perfect sound bite.” 
Surrogate mother Judy Stiver and her husband, Ray, left, of Lansing, Michigan, and Alexander Malahoff, who contracted with the Stivers for the birth of the infant, “Baby Doe,” appear on Phil Donahue’s show. The baby was born with microcephaly. Blood tests show Malahoff, of Middle Village, New York, was not the father. Photo by Charles Knoblock courtesy of AP.
Lori B. Andrews is a professor at     Chicago-Kent College of Law and     author of “The Clone Age: Adventures     in the New World of Reproductive     Technology,” published by Henry     Holt and Company in the spring of     1999.

