The Ruffec Appeal and the Battle of Paul François
Humanitarianism consists in never sacrificing a human being to a purpose.
—Albert Schweitzer
It was a beautiful winter day, cold and sunny. And the date, Sunday, January 17, 2010, will remain forever stamped on my memory, and also on the history of French agriculture. Thirty farmers, suffering from serious illnesses—cancer, leukemia, or Parkinson’s disease—had agreed to meet at the initiative of the Movement for Law and Respect for Future Generations (Mouvement pour le droit et le respect des générations futures, MDRGF),1 an association that has been fighting for fifteen years against the ravages of pesticides. Planned far in advance, this first meeting of its kind in the world had been organized in Ruffec, a town of 3,500 in Charente. I had left Paris the day before on a TGV with Guillaume Marin, cameraman, and Marc Duployer, sound engineer, my two unfailing associates who have traveled with me to the four corners of the earth to film the investigation that is the source of this book.
As soon as I was settled in the train, I had opened my laptop, thinking I would use the two and a half hours of the trip to work. But as the countryside rolled past the misted-up window, I was unable to write a line. Overwhelmed with memories, I explained to my two companions why this trip had a special meaning for me, blending a professional search by an investigative journalist with a more personal quest of a daughter of farmers, born just fifty years ago on a farm in Deux-Sèvres, located in a town in Gâtine a hundred kilometers from Ruffec.
The Tremendous Promises of the Green Revolution
When I was born in 1960, the green revolution was in its infancy. A few years earlier, more precisely on April 1, 1952, the first Renault tractor had replaced the team of oxen on my family’s farm, soon followed by the first tanks of pesticides, including the deadly atrazine—a herbicide that I will discuss at length. Very involved with the Catholic Agricultural Youth (Jeunesse agricole catholique, JAC), a breeding ground for political and union leaders in the rural world, my father had welcomed these “tools from America” as a “new opportunity.”2 They would, he thought, relieve farmers from the heaviest labor while at the same time guaranteeing France’s food independence. No more shortages or famines: industrial agriculture would be able to “feed the world” by providing cheap, abundant food.
Proud to have “the greatest profession on earth,” because all human activity depends on it, my father was a committed participant in the inexorable process of the transformation of agricultural production that was radically changing the countryside, as the baby boom generation was experiencing the euphoria of postwar prosperity. Mechanization, the massive use of “inputs”—fertilizer and chemical pesticides—replacement of mixed farming with grain monoculture, consolidation, expansion of planted areas, indebtedness to the unavoidable agricultural bank: the farm of my forebears became a laboratory for the green revolution, breaking away from the family-farming model that had prevailed for generations. Inspired by the teachings of the JAC and subsequently the Christians in the Rural World (Chrétiens dans le monde rural, CMR)—who wanted to “change the world” even before May 1968—my parents established one of the first collective farming groups (Groupement agricole d’exploitation en commun, GAEC). Based on pooling the means of production and equal shares of income, this agricultural community, which included three associates and three paid employees, made it possible to go on vacation, a rare privilege among farming families.
Unusual in this very conservative region, the experiment caused a lot of talk, to the point that at the village school I was called the “girl from the kolkhoz.” From those years, I recall a happy childhood amid a swarm of kids, where I was taught to stand up proudly for my peasant origins, because the emancipation of the rural world would come through the unselfconscious assertion of one’s identity. Thanks to the green revolution, supposed to be a step in the irresistible march of humanity toward universal progress and well-being, people sometimes called rubes or hicks were standing up and embarking on the “Adventure,” a little-known song that Jacques Brel wrote in 1958 at the request of the JAC.
“It was a wonderful time,” my father told me recently. “How could we imagine that this new agricultural model was going to sow the seeds of destruction and death?” After a troubled silence, he went on: “How could we imagine that the pesticides the agricultural cooperative sold us were highly toxic products that would pollute the environment and make farmers ill?” It would indeed be unjust to cast stones only at farmers, who performed amazing feats to fit into a technological and chemical agricultural model promoted as a panacea by the National Federation of Agricultural Holders’ Unions (Federation nationale des syndicats d’exploitants agricoles, FNSEA)—the largest farmers’ organization—and the Ministry of Agriculture, at the cost of a rural exodus as massive as it was painful and countless suicides.3
It was not until I produced the film and book, The World According to Monsanto4 in 2008 that all of a sudden hitherto private questions could be spoken aloud in my family: suppose illnesses and premature deaths were due to pesticides. Were they the cause of the Parkinson’s disease that struck one of my father’s cousins before he was fifty? Of the prostate cancer of one of my uncles, a former associate in the GAEC? Of the liver cancer of another associate, who died before he was sixty? Of the amyotrophic lateral sclerosis of a neighbor, former activist in the CMR, recently deceased? And the list is far from exhaustive.
The Ruffec Appeal
“Why is this meeting being held today? We have been working on chemical pollution for fifteen years, particularly pollution related to pesticides, and for fifteen years in rural France we have seen farmers who are ill or who tell us they have colleagues who are ill. This day is intended to allow you to express yourselves and to find some answers to questions you have been asking yourselves about toxicology, both medical and legal questions, because we have experts here at your disposal.” With these words, François Veillerette, president and founder of the MDRGF, opened the special meeting on January 17, 2010, which closed with the “Ruffec Appeal.” Having lived for twenty-five years in Oise—a region of intensive agriculture where he developed his ecological convictions—this teacher who headed Greenpeace France from 2003 to 2006 before being elected vice president of the Picardy region on the Europe Écologie ticket is one of the best French specialists on the issue of pesticides. His book, Pesticides, le piège se referme (Pesticides: The Trap Closes),5 is a treasure trove of scientific references which I went through exhaustively before embarking on my investigation.
Among the experts he had invited to Ruffec was André Picot, a chemist who worked for the pharmaceutical giant Roussel-Uclaf before joining the National Scientific Research Center (Centre national de la recherche scientifique, CNRS). Renowned for his courageous independence, in a milieu where complicity with industry is frequent, he quit the French Food Safety Agency (Agence Française de sécurité sanitaire des aliments, AFSSA)6 in 2002, because he dissented from the institution’s manner of dealing with sensitive issues. Also present was Genon Jensen, executive director of the Health and Environmental Alliance (HEAL), a nongovernmental organization based in Brussels that coordinates a network of sixty-five European associations, including the MDRGF; in November 2008 it launched a campaign titled Pesticides and Cancer, backed by the European Union. Also in attendance were Maître Stéphane Cottineau, the MDRGF’s lawyer, and Maître François Lafforgue, an adviser to the National Association for the Defense of Asbestos Victims (Association nationale de défense des victimes de l’amiante, ANDEVA), as well as to the Association of Veterans of Nuclear Tests, and the association of the victims of the catastrophe at the AZF factory in Toulouse.
Lafforgue also represents Paul François, a farmer suffering from serious chronic ailments caused by an accidental acute poisoning in 2004, who has become the emblem of the Network for the Defense of Victims of Pesticides established in June 2009 by the MDRGF.7 Operating a farm in Bernac, a few kilometers from Ruffec, it was he who had suggested organizing the meeting on his land, because his story has become a symbol of the tragedy tearing apart many farming families everywhere in France. François Veillerette asked him to open the session of personal testimony as a reverent silence fell over the conference room of the Escargot Hotel amid the corn fields on the outskirts of Ruffec.
Sitting in a circle like a support group, some of the farmers and their wives had traveled several hundred kilometers to come to the little Charente town despite their debilitating illness. Among them was Jean-Marie Desdion, from the Centre region, suffering from myeloma, a bone cancer; Dominique Marshall, from the Vosges, being treated for myeloproliferative disorder, a leukemia-like disease; Gilbert Vendé, a farmer from Cher suffering from Parkinson’s disease; and Jean-Marie Bony, who worked in an agricultural cooperative in Languedoc-Roussillon until he was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma. As we shall see, some of their ailments had been recognized as occupational diseases by the agricultural social mutual fund after a long battle, and others were in the process of being recognized (see Chapter 3).
Aware of the reticence of these men and women, hard-working and not inclined to complain outside the family circle, I had no difficulty recognizing the effort they had to make to participate in the Ruffec Appeal, addressed to the public authorities to have them withdraw from the market as quickly as possible pesticides dangerous to the health, and to farmers so that they might stop experiencing their diseases as their fate, and eventually take their cases to court.
“I’m glad you came,” said Paul François, visibly moved, “because I know it’s not easy. Diseases caused by pesticides are a taboo subject. But it’s time we broke the silence. It’s true that we share responsibility for the pollution contaminating the water, air, and food, but we must not forget that we are using products approved by the authorities and that we are also the first victims.”
Victim of Acute Poisoning by Monsanto’s Lasso Herbicide
This wasn’t the first time I’d met Paul François. In April 2008, I had participated in a showing of my film The World According to Monsanto, at the request of an association in Ruffec headed by Yves Manguy, a former member of the JAC who had known my father well and was the first spokesman of the small farmers’ confederation (Confédération paysanne) when it was established in 1987.8 More than five hundred people had packed the village hall and the evening had concluded with a book-signing session. A man approached and asked to speak to me. He was Paul François, forty-four at the time, and amid the crowd he began to tell me his story. Encouraged by Yves Manguy, who had led me to understand that his case was serious, I invited the farmer to visit me in my home near Paris whenever he came to the capital. He arrived a few weeks later, with a huge file under his arm and we spent the day dissecting it together.
Operating a six-hundred-acre farm, where he grew wheat, corn, and rapeseed, Paul François acknowledged with a contrite smile that he had been a “prototype of the conventional farmer.” He meant a practitioner of chemical agriculture who had no qualms about using the many molecules—herbicides, insecticides, and fungicides—recommended by his cooperative for the treatment of grains. Until the sunny day in April 2004 when his “life was turned upside down,”9 after a serious accident due to what toxicologists call “acute poisoning,” caused by the inhalation of a large quantity of pesticide.
The farmer had just sprayed his corn fields with Lasso, a herbicide manufactured by the American multinational Monsanto. In the firm’s television advertisement praising the qualities of the herbicide one can see a forty-year-old farmer, a cap jammed on his head, who, after enumerating the weeds “polluting” his fields, concludes, staring into the camera: “My answer is chemical weed control. When properly used, nobody gets hurt, only the weeds.” This kind of spot was commonplace in the United States in the 1970s, when chemical manufacturers had no hesitation in using the TV screen to persuade farmers, and consumers as well, of the usefulness of their products for the good of all.
After spraying, Paul François went about other business and came back a few hours later to verify that the sprayer tank had been thoroughly rinsed by the automatic cleaning system. Contrary to what he thought, the tank was not empty but contained residues of Lasso, in particular of monochlorobenzene (also known as chlorobenzene), the compound’s principal solvent. The heat of the sun had turned it into a gas whose vapors the farmer inhaled. “I was taken with violent nausea and hot flashes,” he told me. “I immediately told my wife, who is a nurse, and she took me to the emergency room in Ruffec, being careful to bring the Lasso label. I lost consciousness when I got to the hospital, where I stayed for four days, spitting blood, with terrible headaches, memory loss, inability to speak, and loss of balance.”
The first strange anomaly (we shall see that Paul François’s file is full of them) was that, when contacted by the Ruffec emergency physician, who had been informed of the product inhaled, the Bordeaux poison center twice advised against taking blood and urine samples, which would have made it possible to measure the level of poisoning by detecting traces of Lasso’s active ingredient,10 alachlor, as well as of chlorophenol, the major metabolite—that is, the product of its degradation by the organism—of chlorobenzene. The lack of these samples was felt severely when the farmer sued the St. Louis multinational. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
After his hospitalization, Paul François was on sick leave for five weeks, during which he suffered from stammering and spells of amnesia of varying lengths. Then, despite profound fatigue, he decided to go back to work. In early November 2004, more than six months after his accident, he had a momentary lapse: while driving his combine, he abruptly left the field he was harvesting and crossed a road. “I was completely unconscious,” he says today. “I might very well have run into a tree or landed in a ditch.” Thinking it was an aftereffect of the April poisoning, his treating doctor contacted the Angers poison center, which, like its counterpart in Bordeaux, refused to examine him or to take blood and urine samples.
In 2007, when Paul François’s lawyer François Lafforgue asked Professor Jean-François Narbonne, director of the biochemical toxicology group at the University of Bordeaux and a qualified expert for such institutions as the AFSSA, to prepare a report, the professor did not mince words: “I must insist here on the aberrant conduct of French poison centers that, against all scientific logic, several times advised against conducting procedures to measure biomarkers for exposure, despite repeated requests from Paul François’s family,” he wrote on January 20, 2008. “These astonishing lapses are incomprehensible for a toxicologist and leave the door open to all kinds of hypotheses, ranging from serious incompetence to a deliberate desire not to provide evidence that might implicate a commercial product and ultimately the manufacturing company. . . . This serious error warrants judicial proceedings.”
If they had done their work, respecting their public health mission, the toxicologists in the poison centers of Bordeaux and Angers could easily have consulted the technical specifications of Lasso; Monsanto first received authorization to market the pesticide on December 1, 1968. They would have been able to note that the herbicide contains an active ingredient, alachlor, in the proportion of 43 percent, and several additives or inert ingredients, including chlorobenzene (used as a solvent), making up 50 percent of the product. This substance was declared by Monsanto when it asked for Lasso’s authorization, but it is not listed on the labels of tanks sold to farmers. And if one adds together the percentages attributed to alachlor and chlorobenzene, something is still missing: the remaining 7 percent is protected by a “trade secret” and, as we shall see, does not appear in the herbicide’s technical specifications.
Had they reviewed the specifications for chlorobenzene developed by the National Institute of Research and Safety for the Prevention of Work Accidents and Occupational Diseases (Institut national de recherche et de sécurité pour la prévention des accidents du travail et des maladies professionnelles, INRS), poison center officials could in any case have read that this “organic synthesis intermediate” used in the “manufacture of coloring agents and pesticides” is “harmful by inhalation” and “produces harmful long-term effects.” Further, it “concentrates in the liver, kidneys, lungs, and especially in fatty tissue. . . . Inhalation of vapors produces irritation of the eyes and the respiratory tract with exposure on the order of 200 ppm (930 mg/m3). At high doses, there can be neurological damage, creating drowsiness, lack of coordination, and depression of the central nervous system, followed by a lowering of consciousness.” Finally, the experts at the INRS recommend “measuring 4-chlorocatechol and 4-chlorophenol [the two metabolites of chlorobenzene] in urine for the biological monitoring of exposed subjects.” This is precisely what the two poison centers consulted had refused to do. Finally, it should be noted that the solvent is included in the document’s table 9, which lists occupational diseases covered by social security, because it may cause acute neurological accidents.
As for alachlor, the active ingredient in Lasso that confers its function as a herbicide, a 1996 document from the World Health Organization (WHO) and the Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO) notes that in “rats exposed to lethal amounts” death is preceded “by salivation, tremors, collapse, and coma.”11 With regard to labeling, the UN organizations recommend specifying that the product is a “possible human carcinogen” and that clean protective clothing, including gloves, and face mask must be worn when handling alachlor. Finally, they specify that, although there have been “no reported cases,” “symptoms [of acute poisoning] would probably include headache, nausea, vomiting, and dizziness. Severe poisoning may induce convulsions and coma.” For all these reasons, Canada banned the use of Lasso as of December 31, 1985, followed by the European Union in 2007.12
In early 2007, a document issued by the French Ministry of Agriculture announced that the “definitive withdrawal” of the herbicide was scheduled for April 23, 2007, but that a “distribution deadline” had been granted until December 31, and the “use deadline” had been set for June 18, 2008. This would allow Monsanto and the agricultural cooperatives to quietly sell off their stocks, as evidenced by an article on April 19, 2007, in the weekly Le Syndicat agricole which announced several “scheduled withdrawals” of pesticides, including alachlor-based pesticides, such as Lasso, Indiana, and Arizona. “However,” the paper explained, “as European directive 91/414 provides, member states may enjoy a grace period enabling them to destroy, sell, and use existing stocks.”13
It is interesting to note that the article at no point explains why the European Union decided to “suspend marketing authorizations,” in clear terms, banning Monsanto herbicides whose active ingredient had been shown to be carcinogenic in rodent studies. It was as though agronomic concerns prevailed over health concerns, whereas it hardly needs repeating that if herbicides are withdrawn from sale, this is because they endanger the health of their users, in this case the readers of Le Syndicat agricole.
Paul François’s Battle
For Paul François, his work accident turned into a nightmare. On November 20, 2004, he abruptly went into a coma at home; his two daughters, then nine and thirteen, raised the alarm. He was hospitalized in the Poitiers teaching hospital for several weeks. In a diagnosis of January 25, 2005, the emergency service doctor described a “deeply altered state of consciousness”; the patient “does not respond to simple commands”; “the electroencephalogram . . . shows acute, slow, proleptic activity suggesting epilepsy.” The same day, a neurologist noted: “Slurred speech (dysarthria) and amnesia are continuing.”
There followed seven months of intermittent hospitalization, including sixty-three days in La Pitié-Salpêtrière in Paris, transfers from one hospital to another, and repeated comas. Oddly, the various specialists consulted stubbornly and unanimously persisted in disregarding the origin of the farmer’s illness: his poisoning by Lasso. Depression, mental illness, epilepsy, various hypotheses were examined in turn, with plenty of tests. Paul François was subjected to scans and encephalograms and even had a psychiatric evaluation, but in the end all hypotheses were dismissed.
Worn out by these prevarications and encouraged by his wife, Paul François contacted the Toxicology and Chemistry Association (Association Toxicologie-Chimie, ATC) headed by Professor André Picot, one of the experts at the Ruffec meeting. Picot advised him to have Lasso analyzed to determine the precise composition of the herbicide and in particular the ingredients not appearing in the technical specifications. The analysis by a specialized laboratory revealed that the herbicide contains 0.2 percent of acetic acid chloromethyl ester, an additive derived from an extremely toxic product, methyl chloroacetate, which can produce cellular asphyxia from inhalation or skin contact.14
Wanting to understand the origin of his neurological disorders so he might seek better treatment, Paul François asked the assistant director of the cooperative that had supplied the Lasso to contact Monsanto. The assistant director told him that he had already reported the accident to the multinational’s French subsidiary, located in a suburb of Lyon, but the company had not followed up. “I was very naïve,” François now says. I thought Monsanto would cooperate to help me find a solution to my health problems. But that didn’t happen.” Finally, thanks to the tenacity of the cooperative’s representative, there was a telephone conversation between François’s wife Sylvie and Dr. John Jackson, a former Monsanto employee who had become a consultant to the firm in Europe. “My wife was shocked,” François says, “because, after asserting he knew of no previous poisonings by Lasso, he offered financial compensation, in exchange for an agreement to give up any claims against the firm.” These are their usual tactics, which I described at length in The World According to Monsanto. Faced with Sylvie François’s insistence, Jackson agreed to set up a telephone conference with Dr. Daniel Goldstein, head of the toxicology department at the firm’s St. Louis headquarters. Not speaking English, François asked a friend, the head of a company, to conduct the conversation. Like his colleague in Europe, Goldstein started by offering financial compensation. “We really had the impression that my health problems were no concern of his,” says François. “He even went so far as to deny the presence of acetic acid chloromethyl ester in the formulation of Lasso. But when we offered to send him the results of the analyses of two samples of Lasso with a two-year interval between dates of manufacture, he changed his strategy and said that the molecule’s presence must be due to a process of degradation of the herbicide. If that’s the case, it’s odd that the level is exactly the same in each sample.” Putting it plainly, for the Monsanto representative, acetic acid chloromethyl ester is the result of an accidental chemical reaction caused by the aging of the herbicide. “This is bad faith,” says André Picot, who believes “‘chloroacetate was used for its energizing power to intensify the weed-killer’s action’.”15
“Monsanto’s Bêtes Noires”
This was how Paul François became “one of Monsanto’s bêtes noires,” as La Charente libre put it, a characteristic I certainly share with him. But he soon also became “a textbook case of controversy among scientists and toxicologists.”16 In fact, observing a deterioration in the farmer’s neurological condition, La Pitié-Salpêtrière hospital decided to take the urine samples the poison centers had not thought worth recommending. Carried out on February 23, 2005, ten months after the initial accident, the tests revealed, against expectations, a peak in the excretion of chlorophenol, the principal metabolite of chlorobenzene, along with products of the degradation of alachlor. All indications were that a portion of the herbicide had been stored in Paul François’s body, in particular in his fatty tissue, and that its gradual release into the bloodstream was the source of the comas and serious neurological disorders that regularly afflicted him.
But instead of facing facts and acting accordingly, “specialists,” with poison center toxicologists in the lead, maintained that it was impossible. To justify their denial, they put forward the fact that chlorophenol or monochlorobenzene could not last longer than three days in the body and that in no instance could one find a trace of those molecules beyond that period. This is an entirely theoretical explanation based on the toxicological data provided by the manufacturers, which, as we shall see, are often open to question (see Chapter 5).
If we take the example of the technical specifications established by the INRS for chlorobenzene, obviously based on studies provided by manufacturers, one sees that the data concerning the organism’s elimination of the substance, after oral administration of a relatively high dose (500 mg/kg of body weight, twice daily for four days), were derived from an experiment on a rabbit. This rodent is, to be sure, a mammal with which we share a certain number of characteristics, but to conclude from that, eyes closed, that excretory mechanisms observed in the animal can be extrapolated to humans, is a step too hastily taken. Especially when this argument is used to deny the link between acute human poisoning by inhalation and its long-term neurological effects.
The only available data concerning humans involves samples taken at the end of a shift from workers in factories manufacturing chlorobenzene (or using it—the data do not specify). According to the INRS experts, “in humans 4-chlorocatechol and 4-chlorophenol appear in urine soon after the start of exposure, with a peak in elimination reached at the end of exposure (around eight hours). Elimination in urine is biphasic: the half-lives of 4-chlorocatechol are 2.2 and 17.3 hours for each phase respectively, and 3 and 12.2 hours for 4-chlorophenol. Excretion of 4-chlorocatechol is approximately three times more abundant than of 4-chlorophenol.” It must be acknowledged that the specifications are laconic: they do not indicate the workers’ level of exposure, but it is reasonable to suspect that it was lower than the “gassing,” to adopt the term used by Professor André Picot, experienced by Paul François, otherwise they would have ended up in hospital. Nor do the data say whether the excretion mechanism concerned all or some of the metabolites, which, the INRS specifies, tend to “concentrate in fatty tissue.”
All that would amount to a rather tedious battle of specialists, were it not for the shameful conclusion (I choose my words carefully) drawn by the brilliant toxicologists of three French poison centers: if metabolites of chlorobenzene were found in Paul François’s urine and even in his hair in February and again in May 2005, this was because he had inhaled Lasso a few days earlier.
“The first time I heard that argument, I got pretty annoyed,” François says. “It came from Dr. Daniel Poisot, chief medical officer of the Bordeaux poison center. Putting it plainly, he was accusing me of mainlining Lasso. When I pointed out that the first urine sample had been taken in the middle of a long hospitalization at La Pitié-Salpêtrière, where it was hard to be in contact with the herbicide, he answered that nothing was stopping me from hiding a vial in my hospital room. I was so astounded that I made a crack about the ties between some toxicologists and the chemical industry. He laughed and said that that was a fiction and that in any case the firms existed to create healthy products, not to put the planet, much less people, in danger.”
The notion of Paul François’s alleged drug addiction was also brought up by Dr. Patrick Henry, head of the Angers poison center, in a telephone conversation with Sylvie François, as stated in her prepared testimony before the Angoulême Social Security Court (Tribunal des affaires de sécurité sociale, TASS). “He bluntly stated that the test results could only be explained by the voluntary inhalation of the product.”
As for Dr. Robert Garnier, chief medical officer of the Paris poison center, he did not openly put forth the possibility of “voluntary inhalation,” preferring a psychiatric explanation for Francois’s problems. “Monochlorobenzene can account for the initial accident and the disorders observed in the following hours or even days, but it is not the direct source of the disorders that appeared in subsequent weeks and months,” he wrote in a letter to Dr. Annette Le Toux on June 1, 2005. “His acute poisoning sufficiently alarmed the farmer for him to fear having been permanently poisoned; the repeated episodes of illness could be the somatization of this anxiety.” In her answer, two weeks later, the Agricultural Social Mutual Fund (Mutualité sociale agricole, MSA) doctor pointed out that the “disorders” were “complete loss of consciousness” and that medical examination “excluded the psychiatric origin of the problems observed.” Then, obviously a little ill at ease, she added that there was no “central thread” in the case.
And for good reason: the toxicologists consulted had stubbornly denied the chronic effects of Lasso and its ingredients to put Monsanto’s poison in the clear. Why? We shall see later that some toxicologists and chemists have very close ties to the chemical industry, even those (and that’s the real problem) who hold positions in public institutions, such as in this instance the poison centers. Sometimes there are real conflicts of interest that the parties involved are careful not to make public; sometimes what is involved is simply an “incestuous relationship” due to the fact that scientists specializing in chemistry or toxicology “come from the same family,” in the words of Ned Groth, an environmental expert I met in the United States (see Chapters 12 and 13).
These intimate connections are clearly illustrated by the example of Robert Garnier, head of the Paris poison center. When he came to my house, Paul François showed me a document he had printed from Medichem’s website, and I kept a copy.17 This “international scientific association,” which is concerned exclusively with “occupational and environmental health in the production and use of chemicals,” was established in 1972 by Dr. Alfred Thiess, former medical director of the German chemical firm BASF. Among its backers are some of the largest global chemical companies, most of which have a past—and a present—as admitted polluters.
Medichem organizes an international conference every year. In 2004 it was held in Paris under the chairmanship of Robert Garnier, who was then on the board of the association, along with, for example, Dr. Michael Nasterlack, a BASF executive and secretary of the association. The list of conference participants included Daniel Goldstein, Monsanto’s chief toxicologist, the man who had proposed a financial transaction to Paul François in exchange for surrendering any claims. In a meeting with Garnier, the farmer from Ruffec asked him if he knew his colleague from Monsanto, which Garnier denied. In any event, as I write this, I have not found the document François gave me on the Web, because it has simply disappeared.
Legal Proceedings Against the MSA and Monsanto
“To tell you the truth, my case made me lose my naïveté,” says François, “and so, for the first time in my life, I found myself in court.” Confronted with a refusal by the MSA and the AAEXA—the insurance arm of the MSA responsible for work accidents—to recognize his serious health problems as an occupational disease, François decided to bring a case in the Angoulême TASS.
On November 3, 2008, the TASS found in his favor, declaring “that his declared relapse on November 29, 2004, is directly related to the work accident he suffered on April 27, 2004, and that it must be addressed in accordance with occupational legislation.” In its decision, the court referred to the report by Professor Jean-François Narbonne cited above, which noted that the disorders are due to the “massive accumulation of substances in fatty tissue and/or [to the] persistent blockage of metabolic activity.” In other words: with the extremely high level of poisoning, metabolization of toxic substances was blocked, bringing about an accumulation of those substances in the body. “Although unusual, this hypothesis is entirely plausible,” stated André Picot, an opinion shared by Professor Gérard Lachâtre, expert in the pharmacology and toxicology department of the Limoges teaching hospital, the only specialist who considered a link between Paul François’s recurrent neurological disorders and his “gassing” with Lasso.
The decision of the Angoulême TASS was a first victory for the Ruffec farmer. But he didn’t stop there: he filed suit against Monsanto in the High Court (Tribunal de grande instance, TGI) of Lyon, on the grounds that the firm had “failed in its obligation to inform [users] concerning the composition of the product.” “On the packaging provided with Lasso, only the presence of alachlor is mentioned as entering into the composition of the weed killer; the presence of monochlorobenzene is not noted,” wrote the lawyer François Lafforgue in the proposed conclusions he submitted to the court on July 21, 2009. “The risk of inhaling monochlorobenzene, a very volatile substance, the precautions to be taken in handling the product, and the secondary effects of an accidental inhalation are not mentioned.”
On the other side, with incredible cynicism, Monsanto’s proposed conclusions exploited the absence of blood and urine samples, which the Bordeaux poison center refused to take just after the accident: “M. Paul François has never established that the product he is alleged to have inhaled on April 27, 2004, was Lasso,” argued the multinational’s lawyers. “In fact, there is no medical document reporting an inhalation of Lasso on April 27, 2004. . . . This evidence, that M. Paul François attempts to explain by negligence on the part of hospital services, is clear.” And they coolly concluded: “It ensues from the elements cited above that no causal link can be established (or even presumed) between the April 27, 2004, accident and M. Paul François’s state of health.”
To back up its blunt conclusions, Monsanto attached two documents as appendices. The first was from Dr. Pierre-Gérard Pontal, who had conducted a “scientific medical evaluation of the case of poisoning of M. Paul François.” A Web search easily turns up the curriculum vitae of Pontal, which he himself put online. He had worked at the Paris poison center, then for five years as chief medical officer in a Rhône-Poulenc Agrochimie factory, before moving on to head the human risk assessment team at Aventis CropScience. His ties to the chemical industry are obvious. Generally speaking, his report serves up all the clichés of institutional toxicology, invoking “scientifically established facts,” such as the inviolable principle of Paracelsus, “only the dose makes the poison,” which I will consider at length (see Chapter 8).
But to sum up the biased nature of his evaluation, it suffices to quote his criticism of the report by Jean-François Narbonne, which, he alleges, “neglects to ask the question of determining the dose to which M. François was exposed.” This is preposterous, considering that Professor Narbonne clearly denounced the negligence of the poison centers that refused to take samples, which would precisely have enabled the measurement of the level of poisoning experienced by Paul François.
Drafted by Daniel Goldstein, head of the Monsanto Product Safety Center in St. Louis, the second document cited by the company’s lawyers amounts to special pleading in favor of the poison centers, which at least has the virtue of clarity: “Considering that what is involved is identified exposure to a substance that is in theory swiftly excreted and should not have chronic toxicity, the fact of obtaining concentrations in blood or urine offers little or no interest for the patient,” Goldstein notes. Then he hammers the point home by ostentatiously supporting the men whom his remarks elevate to the rank of accomplices in what strongly resembles an organized denial: “We confirm the statements from the French poison center that the conduct of analyses shortly after exposure would not have provided useful information, and that M. François should have recovered from the brief exposure by inhalation without difficulty.” No comment is necessary.18