SARAH VARNEY, KAISER HEALTH NEWS

Birth control options have improved over the decades. Oral contraceptives are now safer, with fewer side effects. Intrauterine devices can prevent pregnancy 99.6% of the time. But no prescription drug or medical device works flawlessly, and people’s use of contraception is inexact.

“No one walks into my office and says, ‘I plan on missing a pill,’ ” said obstetrician-gynecologist Mitchell Creinin, MD.

“There is no such thing as perfect use; we are all real-life users,” said Dr. Creinin, a professor at the University of California, Davis, who wrote a widely used textbook that details contraceptive failure rates.

Even when the odds of contraception failure are small, the number of incidents can add up quickly. More than 47 million women of reproductive age in the United States use contraception, and, depending on the birth control method, hundreds of thousands of unplanned pregnancies can occur each year. With most abortions outlawed in at least 13 states and legal battles underway in others, contraceptive failures now carry bigger stakes for tens of millions of Americans.

Researchers distinguish between the perfect use of birth control, when a method is used consistently and correctly every time, and typical use, when a method is used in real-life circumstances. No birth control, short of a complete female sterilization, has a 0.00% failure rate.

The failure rate for typical use of birth control pills is 7%. For every million women taking pills, 70,000 unplanned pregnancies could occur in a year. According to the most recent data available, more than 6.5 million women ages 15 to 49 use oral contraceptives, leading to about 460,000 unplanned pregnancies.

Even seemingly minuscule failure rates of IUDs and birth control implants can lead to surprises.

An intrauterine device releases a hormone that thickens the mucus on the cervix. Sperm hit the brick wall of mucus and are unable to pass through the barrier. Implants are matchstick-sized plastic rods placed under the skin, which send a steady, low dose of hormone into the body that also thickens the cervical mucus and prevents the ovaries from releasing an egg. But not always. The hormonal IUD and implants fail to prevent pregnancy 0.1%-0.4% of the time.

Some 4.8 million women use IUDs or implants in the U.S., leading to as many as 5,000 to 20,000 unplanned pregnancies a year.

“We’ve had women come through here for abortions who had an IUD, and they were the one in a thousand,” said Gordon Low, a nurse practitioner at the Planned Parenthood in Little Rock.

Abortion has been outlawed in Arkansas since the Supreme Court’s ruling on Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization in late June. The only exception is when a patient’s death is considered imminent.

Those stakes are the new backdrop for couples making decisions about which form of contraception to choose or calculating the chances of pregnancy.

Another complication is the belief among many that contraceptives should work all the time, every time.

“In medicine, there is never anything that is 100%,” said Régine Sitruk-Ware, MD, a reproductive endocrinologist at the Population Council, a nonprofit research organization.

All sorts of factors interfere with contraceptive efficacy, said Dr. Sitruk-Ware. Certain medications for HIV and tuberculosis and the herbal supplement St. John’s wort can disrupt the liver’s processing of birth control pills. A medical provider might insert an IUD imprecisely into the uterus. Emergency contraception, including Plan B, is less effective in women weighing more than 165 pounds because the hormone in the medication is weight-dependent.

And life is hectic.

“You may have a delay in taking your next pill,” said Dr. Sitruk-Ware, or getting to the doctor to insert “your next vaginal ring.”

Using contraception consistently and correctly lessens the chance for a failure but Alina Salganicoff, KFF’s director of women’s health policy, said that for many people access to birth control is anything but dependable. Birth control pills are needed month after month, year after year, but “the vast majority of women can only get a one- to two-month supply,” she said.

Even vasectomies can fail.

During a vasectomy, the surgeon cuts the tube that carries sperm to the semen.

The procedure is one of the most effective methods of birth control – the failure rate is 0.15% – and avoids the side effects of hormonal birth control. But even after the vas deferens is cut, cells in the body can heal themselves, including after a vasectomy.

“If you get a cut on your finger, the skin covers it back up,” said Dr. Creinin. “Depending on how big the gap is and how the procedure is done, that tube may grow back together, and that’s one of the ways in which it fails.”

Researchers are testing reversible birth control methods for men, including a hormonal gel applied to the shoulders that suppresses sperm production. Among the 350 participants in the trial and their partners, so far zero pregnancies have occurred. It’s expected to take years for the new methods to reach the market and be available to consumers. Meanwhile, vasectomies and condoms remain the only contraception available for men, who remain fertile for much of their lives.

At 13%, the typical-use failure rate of condoms is among the highest of birth control methods. Condoms play a vital role in stopping the spread of HIV and other sexually transmitted infections, but they are often misused or tear. The typical-use failure rate means that for 1 million couples using condoms, 130,000 unplanned pregnancies could occur in one year.

Navigating the failure rates of birth control medicines and medical devices is just one aspect of preventing pregnancy. Ensuring a male sexual partner uses a condom can require negotiation or persuasion skills that can be difficult to navigate, said Jennifer Evans, an assistant teaching professor and health education specialist at Northeastern University.

Historically, women have had little to no say in whether to engage in sexual intercourse and limited autonomy over their bodies, complicating sexual-negotiation skills today, said Ms. Evans.

Part of Ms. Evans’ research focuses on men who coerce women into sex without a condom. One tactic, known as “stealthing,” is when a man puts on a condom but then removes it either before or during sexual intercourse without the other person’s knowledge or consent.

“In a lot of these stealthing cases women don’t necessarily know the condom has been used improperly,” said Ms. Evans. “It means they can’t engage in any kind of preventative behaviors like taking a Plan B or even going and getting an abortion in a timely manner.”

Ms. Evans has found that heterosexual men who engage in stealthing often have hostile attitudes toward women. They report that sex without a condom feels better or say they do it “for the thrill of engaging in a behavior they know is not OK,” she said. Ms. Evans cautions women who suspect a sexual partner will not use a condom correctly to not have sex with that person.

“The consequences were already severe before,” said Ms. Evans, “but now that Roe v. Wade has been overturned, they’re even more right now.”

This story is a collaboration between KHN and Science Friday. KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation.

Birth control options have improved over the decades. Oral contraceptives are now safer, with fewer side effects. Intrauterine devices can prevent pregnancy 99.6% of the time. But no prescription drug or medical device works flawlessly, and people’s use of contraception is inexact.

“No one walks into my office and says, ‘I plan on missing a pill,’ ” said obstetrician-gynecologist Mitchell Creinin, MD.

“There is no such thing as perfect use; we are all real-life users,” said Dr. Creinin, a professor at the University of California, Davis, who wrote a widely used textbook that details contraceptive failure rates.

Even when the odds of contraception failure are small, the number of incidents can add up quickly. More than 47 million women of reproductive age in the United States use contraception, and, depending on the birth control method, hundreds of thousands of unplanned pregnancies can occur each year. With most abortions outlawed in at least 13 states and legal battles underway in others, contraceptive failures now carry bigger stakes for tens of millions of Americans.

Researchers distinguish between the perfect use of birth control, when a method is used consistently and correctly every time, and typical use, when a method is used in real-life circumstances. No birth control, short of a complete female sterilization, has a 0.00% failure rate.

The failure rate for typical use of birth control pills is 7%. For every million women taking pills, 70,000 unplanned pregnancies could occur in a year. According to the most recent data available, more than 6.5 million women ages 15 to 49 use oral contraceptives, leading to about 460,000 unplanned pregnancies.

Even seemingly minuscule failure rates of IUDs and birth control implants can lead to surprises.

An intrauterine device releases a hormone that thickens the mucus on the cervix. Sperm hit the brick wall of mucus and are unable to pass through the barrier. Implants are matchstick-sized plastic rods placed under the skin, which send a steady, low dose of hormone into the body that also thickens the cervical mucus and prevents the ovaries from releasing an egg. But not always. The hormonal IUD and implants fail to prevent pregnancy 0.1%-0.4% of the time.

Some 4.8 million women use IUDs or implants in the U.S., leading to as many as 5,000 to 20,000 unplanned pregnancies a year.

“We’ve had women come through here for abortions who had an IUD, and they were the one in a thousand,” said Gordon Low, a nurse practitioner at the Planned Parenthood in Little Rock.

Abortion has been outlawed in Arkansas since the Supreme Court’s ruling on Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization in late June. The only exception is when a patient’s death is considered imminent.

Those stakes are the new backdrop for couples making decisions about which form of contraception to choose or calculating the chances of pregnancy.

Another complication is the belief among many that contraceptives should work all the time, every time.

“In medicine, there is never anything that is 100%,” said Régine Sitruk-Ware, MD, a reproductive endocrinologist at the Population Council, a nonprofit research organization.

All sorts of factors interfere with contraceptive efficacy, said Dr. Sitruk-Ware. Certain medications for HIV and tuberculosis and the herbal supplement St. John’s wort can disrupt the liver’s processing of birth control pills. A medical provider might insert an IUD imprecisely into the uterus. Emergency contraception, including Plan B, is less effective in women weighing more than 165 pounds because the hormone in the medication is weight-dependent.

And life is hectic.

“You may have a delay in taking your next pill,” said Dr. Sitruk-Ware, or getting to the doctor to insert “your next vaginal ring.”

Using contraception consistently and correctly lessens the chance for a failure but Alina Salganicoff, KFF’s director of women’s health policy, said that for many people access to birth control is anything but dependable. Birth control pills are needed month after month, year after year, but “the vast majority of women can only get a one- to two-month supply,” she said.

Even vasectomies can fail.

During a vasectomy, the surgeon cuts the tube that carries sperm to the semen.

The procedure is one of the most effective methods of birth control – the failure rate is 0.15% – and avoids the side effects of hormonal birth control. But even after the vas deferens is cut, cells in the body can heal themselves, including after a vasectomy.

“If you get a cut on your finger, the skin covers it back up,” said Dr. Creinin. “Depending on how big the gap is and how the procedure is done, that tube may grow back together, and that’s one of the ways in which it fails.”

Researchers are testing reversible birth control methods for men, including a hormonal gel applied to the shoulders that suppresses sperm production. Among the 350 participants in the trial and their partners, so far zero pregnancies have occurred. It’s expected to take years for the new methods to reach the market and be available to consumers. Meanwhile, vasectomies and condoms remain the only contraception available for men, who remain fertile for much of their lives.

At 13%, the typical-use failure rate of condoms is among the highest of birth control methods. Condoms play a vital role in stopping the spread of HIV and other sexually transmitted infections, but they are often misused or tear. The typical-use failure rate means that for 1 million couples using condoms, 130,000 unplanned pregnancies could occur in one year.

Navigating the failure rates of birth control medicines and medical devices is just one aspect of preventing pregnancy. Ensuring a male sexual partner uses a condom can require negotiation or persuasion skills that can be difficult to navigate, said Jennifer Evans, an assistant teaching professor and health education specialist at Northeastern University.

Historically, women have had little to no say in whether to engage in sexual intercourse and limited autonomy over their bodies, complicating sexual-negotiation skills today, said Ms. Evans.

Part of Ms. Evans’ research focuses on men who coerce women into sex without a condom. One tactic, known as “stealthing,” is when a man puts on a condom but then removes it either before or during sexual intercourse without the other person’s knowledge or consent.

“In a lot of these stealthing cases women don’t necessarily know the condom has been used improperly,” said Ms. Evans. “It means they can’t engage in any kind of preventative behaviors like taking a Plan B or even going and getting an abortion in a timely manner.”

Ms. Evans has found that heterosexual men who engage in stealthing often have hostile attitudes toward women. They report that sex without a condom feels better or say they do it “for the thrill of engaging in a behavior they know is not OK,” she said. Ms. Evans cautions women who suspect a sexual partner will not use a condom correctly to not have sex with that person.

“The consequences were already severe before,” said Ms. Evans, “but now that Roe v. Wade has been overturned, they’re even more right now.”

This story is a collaboration between KHN and Science Friday. KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation.

Birth control options have improved over the decades. Oral contraceptives are now safer, with fewer side effects. Intrauterine devices can prevent pregnancy 99.6% of the time. But no prescription drug or medical device works flawlessly, and people’s use of contraception is inexact.

“No one walks into my office and says, ‘I plan on missing a pill,’ ” said obstetrician-gynecologist Mitchell Creinin, MD.

“There is no such thing as perfect use; we are all real-life users,” said Dr. Creinin, a professor at the University of California, Davis, who wrote a widely used textbook that details contraceptive failure rates.

Even when the odds of contraception failure are small, the number of incidents can add up quickly. More than 47 million women of reproductive age in the United States use contraception, and, depending on the birth control method, hundreds of thousands of unplanned pregnancies can occur each year. With most abortions outlawed in at least 13 states and legal battles underway in others, contraceptive failures now carry bigger stakes for tens of millions of Americans.

Researchers distinguish between the perfect use of birth control, when a method is used consistently and correctly every time, and typical use, when a method is used in real-life circumstances. No birth control, short of a complete female sterilization, has a 0.00% failure rate.

The failure rate for typical use of birth control pills is 7%. For every million women taking pills, 70,000 unplanned pregnancies could occur in a year. According to the most recent data available, more than 6.5 million women ages 15 to 49 use oral contraceptives, leading to about 460,000 unplanned pregnancies.

Even seemingly minuscule failure rates of IUDs and birth control implants can lead to surprises.

An intrauterine device releases a hormone that thickens the mucus on the cervix. Sperm hit the brick wall of mucus and are unable to pass through the barrier. Implants are matchstick-sized plastic rods placed under the skin, which send a steady, low dose of hormone into the body that also thickens the cervical mucus and prevents the ovaries from releasing an egg. But not always. The hormonal IUD and implants fail to prevent pregnancy 0.1%-0.4% of the time.

Some 4.8 million women use IUDs or implants in the U.S., leading to as many as 5,000 to 20,000 unplanned pregnancies a year.

“We’ve had women come through here for abortions who had an IUD, and they were the one in a thousand,” said Gordon Low, a nurse practitioner at the Planned Parenthood in Little Rock.

Abortion has been outlawed in Arkansas since the Supreme Court’s ruling on Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization in late June. The only exception is when a patient’s death is considered imminent.

Those stakes are the new backdrop for couples making decisions about which form of contraception to choose or calculating the chances of pregnancy.

Another complication is the belief among many that contraceptives should work all the time, every time.

“In medicine, there is never anything that is 100%,” said Régine Sitruk-Ware, MD, a reproductive endocrinologist at the Population Council, a nonprofit research organization.

All sorts of factors interfere with contraceptive efficacy, said Dr. Sitruk-Ware. Certain medications for HIV and tuberculosis and the herbal supplement St. John’s wort can disrupt the liver’s processing of birth control pills. A medical provider might insert an IUD imprecisely into the uterus. Emergency contraception, including Plan B, is less effective in women weighing more than 165 pounds because the hormone in the medication is weight-dependent.

And life is hectic.

“You may have a delay in taking your next pill,” said Dr. Sitruk-Ware, or getting to the doctor to insert “your next vaginal ring.”

Using contraception consistently and correctly lessens the chance for a failure but Alina Salganicoff, KFF’s director of women’s health policy, said that for many people access to birth control is anything but dependable. Birth control pills are needed month after month, year after year, but “the vast majority of women can only get a one- to two-month supply,” she said.

Even vasectomies can fail.

During a vasectomy, the surgeon cuts the tube that carries sperm to the semen.

The procedure is one of the most effective methods of birth control – the failure rate is 0.15% – and avoids the side effects of hormonal birth control. But even after the vas deferens is cut, cells in the body can heal themselves, including after a vasectomy.

“If you get a cut on your finger, the skin covers it back up,” said Dr. Creinin. “Depending on how big the gap is and how the procedure is done, that tube may grow back together, and that’s one of the ways in which it fails.”

Researchers are testing reversible birth control methods for men, including a hormonal gel applied to the shoulders that suppresses sperm production. Among the 350 participants in the trial and their partners, so far zero pregnancies have occurred. It’s expected to take years for the new methods to reach the market and be available to consumers. Meanwhile, vasectomies and condoms remain the only contraception available for men, who remain fertile for much of their lives.

At 13%, the typical-use failure rate of condoms is among the highest of birth control methods. Condoms play a vital role in stopping the spread of HIV and other sexually transmitted infections, but they are often misused or tear. The typical-use failure rate means that for 1 million couples using condoms, 130,000 unplanned pregnancies could occur in one year.

Navigating the failure rates of birth control medicines and medical devices is just one aspect of preventing pregnancy. Ensuring a male sexual partner uses a condom can require negotiation or persuasion skills that can be difficult to navigate, said Jennifer Evans, an assistant teaching professor and health education specialist at Northeastern University.

Historically, women have had little to no say in whether to engage in sexual intercourse and limited autonomy over their bodies, complicating sexual-negotiation skills today, said Ms. Evans.

Part of Ms. Evans’ research focuses on men who coerce women into sex without a condom. One tactic, known as “stealthing,” is when a man puts on a condom but then removes it either before or during sexual intercourse without the other person’s knowledge or consent.

“In a lot of these stealthing cases women don’t necessarily know the condom has been used improperly,” said Ms. Evans. “It means they can’t engage in any kind of preventative behaviors like taking a Plan B or even going and getting an abortion in a timely manner.”

Ms. Evans has found that heterosexual men who engage in stealthing often have hostile attitudes toward women. They report that sex without a condom feels better or say they do it “for the thrill of engaging in a behavior they know is not OK,” she said. Ms. Evans cautions women who suspect a sexual partner will not use a condom correctly to not have sex with that person.

“The consequences were already severe before,” said Ms. Evans, “but now that Roe v. Wade has been overturned, they’re even more right now.”

This story is a collaboration between KHN and Science Friday. KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation.

As life-preserving medical technology advanced in the second half of the 20th century, doctors and families were faced with a thorny decision, one with weighty legal and moral implications: How should we define when life ends? Cardiopulmonary bypass machines could keep the blood pumping and ventilators could maintain breathing long after a patient’s natural ability to perform those vital functions had ceased.

After decades of deliberations involving physicians, bioethicists, attorneys, and theologians, a U.S. presidential commission in 1981 settled on a scientifically derived dividing line between life and death that has endured, more or less, ever since: A person was considered dead when the entire brain – including the brain stem, its most primitive portion – was no longer functioning, even if other vital functions could be maintained indefinitely through artificial life support.

In the decades since, the committee’s criteria have served as a foundation for laws in most states adopting brain death as a standard for legal death.

Now, with the overturning of Roe v. Wade and dozens of states rushing to impose abortion restrictions, American society is engaged in a chaotic race to define the other pole of human existence: When exactly does human life begin? At conception, the hint of a heartbeat, a first breath, the ability to survive outside the womb with the help of the latest technology?

That we’ve been able to devise and apply uniform clinical standards for when life ends, but not when it begins, is due largely to the legal and political maelstrom around abortion. And in the 2 months since the U.S. Supreme Court issued its opinion in Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization, eliminating a longstanding federal right to abortion, state legislators are eagerly bounding into that void, looking to codify into law assorted definitions of life that carry profound repercussions for abortion rights, birth control, and assisted reproduction, as well as civil and criminal law.

“The court said that when life begins is up to whoever is running your state – whether they are wrong or not, or you agree with them or not,” said Mary Ziegler, a law professor at the University of California, Davis, who has written several books on the history of abortion.

Unlike the debate over death, which delved into exquisite medical and scientific detail, the legislative scramble to determine when life’s building blocks reach a threshold that warrants government protection as human life has generally ignored the input of mainstream medical professionals.

Instead, red states across much of the South and portions of the Midwest are adopting language drafted by elected officials that is informed by conservative Christian doctrine, often with little scientific underpinning.

A handful of Republican-led states, including Arkansas, Kentucky, Missouri, and Oklahoma, have passed laws declaring that life begins at fertilization, a contention that opens the door to a host of pregnancy-related litigation. This includes wrongful death lawsuits brought on behalf of the estate of an embryo by disgruntled ex-partners against physicians and women who end a pregnancy or even miscarry. (One such lawsuit is underway in Arizona. Another reached the Alabama Supreme Court.)

In Kentucky, the law outlawing abortion uses morally explosive terms to define pregnancy as “the human female reproductive condition of having a living unborn human being within her body throughout the entire embryonic and fetal stages of the unborn child from fertilization to full gestation and childbirth.”

Several other states, including Georgia, have adopted measures equating life with the point at which an embryo’s nascent cardiac activity can be detected by an ultrasound, at around 6 weeks of gestation. Many such laws mischaracterize the flickering electrical impulses detectable at that stage as a heartbeat, including in Georgia, whose Department of Revenue recently announced that “any unborn child with a detectable human heartbeat” can be claimed as a dependent.

The Supreme Court’s 1973 decision in Roe v. Wade that established a constitutional right to abortion did not define a moment when life begins. The opinion, written by Justice Harry Blackmun, observed that the Constitution does not provide a definition of “person,” though it extends protections to those born or naturalized in the United States. The court majority made note of the many disparate views among religions and scientists on when life begins, and concluded it was not up to the states to adopt one theory of life.

Instead, Roe created a framework intended to balance a pregnant woman’s right to make decisions about her body with a public interest in protecting potential human life. That decision and a key ruling that followed generally recognized a woman’s right to abortion up to the point medical professionals judge a fetus viable to survive outside the uterus, at about 24 weeks of gestation.

In decisively overturning Roe in June, the Supreme Court’s conservative majority drew on legal arguments that have shaped another contentious end-of-life issue. The legal standard employed in Dobbs – that there is no right to abortion in the federal Constitution and that states can decide on their own – is the same rationale used in 1997 when the Supreme Court said terminally ill people did not have a constitutional right to medically assisted death. That decision, Washington v. Glucksberg, is mentioned 15 times in the majority opinion for Dobbs and a concurrence by Justice Clarence Thomas.

Often, the same groups that have led the fight to outlaw abortion have also challenged medical aid-in-dying laws. Even after Dobbs, so-called right-to-die laws remain far less common than those codifying state abortion rights. Ten states allow physicians to prescribe lethal doses of medicine for terminally ill patients. Doctors are still prohibited from administering the drugs.

James Bopp, general counsel for the National Right to Life Committee who has been central to the efforts to outlaw abortion, said that both abortion and medically assisted death, which he refers to as physician-assisted suicide, endanger society.

“Every individual human life has inherent value and is sacred,” said Mr. Bopp. “The government has the duty to protect that life.”

Both issues raise profound societal questions: Can the government keep a patient on life support against his wishes, or force a woman to give birth? Can states bar their own residents from going to other states to end a pregnancy, or prohibit out-of-state patients from coming in to seek medically assisted death? And who gets to decide, particularly if the answer imposes a singular religious viewpoint?

Just as there are legal implications that flow from determining a person’s death, from organ donation to inheritance, the implied rights held by a legally recognized zygote are potentially vast. Will death certificates be issued for every lost pregnancy? Will miscarriages be investigated? When will Social Security numbers be issued? How will census counts be tallied and congressional districts drawn?

Medical professionals and bioethicists caution that both the beginning and end of life are complicated biological processes that are not defined by a single identifiable moment – and are ill suited to the political arena.

“Unfortunately, biological occurrences are not events, they are processes,” said David Magnus, PhD, director of the Stanford (Calif.) Center for Biomedical Ethics.

Moreover, asking doctors “What is life?” or “What is death?” may miss the point, said Dr. Magnus: “Medicine can answer the question ‘When does a biological organism cease to exist?’ But they can’t answer the question ‘When does a person begin or end?’ because those are metaphysical issues.”

Ben Sarbey, a doctoral candidate in the department of philosophy at Duke University, Durham, N.C., who studies medical ethics, echoed that perspective, recounting the Paradox of the Heap, a thought experiment that involves placing grains of sand one on top of the next. The philosophical quandary is this: At what point do those grains of sand become something more – a heap?

“We’re going to have a rough time placing a dividing line that this counts as a person and this does not count as a person,” he said. “Many things count as life – a sperm counts as life, a person in a persistent vegetative state counts as life – but does that constitute a person that we should be protecting?”

Even as debate over the court’s abortion decision percolates, the 1981 federal statute that grew out of the presidential committee’s findings, the Uniform Determination of Death Act, is also under review. In 2022, the Uniform Law Commission, a nonpartisan group of legal experts that drafts laws intended for adoption in multiple states, has taken up the work to revisit the definition of death.

The group will consider sharpening the medical standards for brain death in light of advances in the understanding of brain function. And they will look to address lingering questions raised in recent years as families and religious groups have waged heated legal battles over terminating artificial life support for patients with no brain wave activity.

Mr. Bopp, with the National Right to Life Committee, is among those serving on advisory panels for the effort, along with an array of doctors, philosophers, and medical ethicists. The concept of “personhood” that infuses the antiabortion movement’s broader push for fetal rights is expected to be an underlying topic, albeit in mirror image: When does a life form cease being a person?

Dr. Magnus, who is also serving on an advisory panel, has no doubt the commission will reach a consensus, a sober resolution rooted in science. What’s less clear, he said, is whether in today’s political environment that updated definition will hold the same sway, an enduring legal standard embraced across states.

KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation.

As life-preserving medical technology advanced in the second half of the 20th century, doctors and families were faced with a thorny decision, one with weighty legal and moral implications: How should we define when life ends? Cardiopulmonary bypass machines could keep the blood pumping and ventilators could maintain breathing long after a patient’s natural ability to perform those vital functions had ceased.

After decades of deliberations involving physicians, bioethicists, attorneys, and theologians, a U.S. presidential commission in 1981 settled on a scientifically derived dividing line between life and death that has endured, more or less, ever since: A person was considered dead when the entire brain – including the brain stem, its most primitive portion – was no longer functioning, even if other vital functions could be maintained indefinitely through artificial life support.

In the decades since, the committee’s criteria have served as a foundation for laws in most states adopting brain death as a standard for legal death.

Now, with the overturning of Roe v. Wade and dozens of states rushing to impose abortion restrictions, American society is engaged in a chaotic race to define the other pole of human existence: When exactly does human life begin? At conception, the hint of a heartbeat, a first breath, the ability to survive outside the womb with the help of the latest technology?

That we’ve been able to devise and apply uniform clinical standards for when life ends, but not when it begins, is due largely to the legal and political maelstrom around abortion. And in the 2 months since the U.S. Supreme Court issued its opinion in Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization, eliminating a longstanding federal right to abortion, state legislators are eagerly bounding into that void, looking to codify into law assorted definitions of life that carry profound repercussions for abortion rights, birth control, and assisted reproduction, as well as civil and criminal law.

“The court said that when life begins is up to whoever is running your state – whether they are wrong or not, or you agree with them or not,” said Mary Ziegler, a law professor at the University of California, Davis, who has written several books on the history of abortion.

Unlike the debate over death, which delved into exquisite medical and scientific detail, the legislative scramble to determine when life’s building blocks reach a threshold that warrants government protection as human life has generally ignored the input of mainstream medical professionals.

Instead, red states across much of the South and portions of the Midwest are adopting language drafted by elected officials that is informed by conservative Christian doctrine, often with little scientific underpinning.

A handful of Republican-led states, including Arkansas, Kentucky, Missouri, and Oklahoma, have passed laws declaring that life begins at fertilization, a contention that opens the door to a host of pregnancy-related litigation. This includes wrongful death lawsuits brought on behalf of the estate of an embryo by disgruntled ex-partners against physicians and women who end a pregnancy or even miscarry. (One such lawsuit is underway in Arizona. Another reached the Alabama Supreme Court.)

In Kentucky, the law outlawing abortion uses morally explosive terms to define pregnancy as “the human female reproductive condition of having a living unborn human being within her body throughout the entire embryonic and fetal stages of the unborn child from fertilization to full gestation and childbirth.”

Several other states, including Georgia, have adopted measures equating life with the point at which an embryo’s nascent cardiac activity can be detected by an ultrasound, at around 6 weeks of gestation. Many such laws mischaracterize the flickering electrical impulses detectable at that stage as a heartbeat, including in Georgia, whose Department of Revenue recently announced that “any unborn child with a detectable human heartbeat” can be claimed as a dependent.

The Supreme Court’s 1973 decision in Roe v. Wade that established a constitutional right to abortion did not define a moment when life begins. The opinion, written by Justice Harry Blackmun, observed that the Constitution does not provide a definition of “person,” though it extends protections to those born or naturalized in the United States. The court majority made note of the many disparate views among religions and scientists on when life begins, and concluded it was not up to the states to adopt one theory of life.

Instead, Roe created a framework intended to balance a pregnant woman’s right to make decisions about her body with a public interest in protecting potential human life. That decision and a key ruling that followed generally recognized a woman’s right to abortion up to the point medical professionals judge a fetus viable to survive outside the uterus, at about 24 weeks of gestation.

In decisively overturning Roe in June, the Supreme Court’s conservative majority drew on legal arguments that have shaped another contentious end-of-life issue. The legal standard employed in Dobbs – that there is no right to abortion in the federal Constitution and that states can decide on their own – is the same rationale used in 1997 when the Supreme Court said terminally ill people did not have a constitutional right to medically assisted death. That decision, Washington v. Glucksberg, is mentioned 15 times in the majority opinion for Dobbs and a concurrence by Justice Clarence Thomas.

Often, the same groups that have led the fight to outlaw abortion have also challenged medical aid-in-dying laws. Even after Dobbs, so-called right-to-die laws remain far less common than those codifying state abortion rights. Ten states allow physicians to prescribe lethal doses of medicine for terminally ill patients. Doctors are still prohibited from administering the drugs.

James Bopp, general counsel for the National Right to Life Committee who has been central to the efforts to outlaw abortion, said that both abortion and medically assisted death, which he refers to as physician-assisted suicide, endanger society.

“Every individual human life has inherent value and is sacred,” said Mr. Bopp. “The government has the duty to protect that life.”

Both issues raise profound societal questions: Can the government keep a patient on life support against his wishes, or force a woman to give birth? Can states bar their own residents from going to other states to end a pregnancy, or prohibit out-of-state patients from coming in to seek medically assisted death? And who gets to decide, particularly if the answer imposes a singular religious viewpoint?

Just as there are legal implications that flow from determining a person’s death, from organ donation to inheritance, the implied rights held by a legally recognized zygote are potentially vast. Will death certificates be issued for every lost pregnancy? Will miscarriages be investigated? When will Social Security numbers be issued? How will census counts be tallied and congressional districts drawn?

Medical professionals and bioethicists caution that both the beginning and end of life are complicated biological processes that are not defined by a single identifiable moment – and are ill suited to the political arena.

“Unfortunately, biological occurrences are not events, they are processes,” said David Magnus, PhD, director of the Stanford (Calif.) Center for Biomedical Ethics.

Moreover, asking doctors “What is life?” or “What is death?” may miss the point, said Dr. Magnus: “Medicine can answer the question ‘When does a biological organism cease to exist?’ But they can’t answer the question ‘When does a person begin or end?’ because those are metaphysical issues.”

Ben Sarbey, a doctoral candidate in the department of philosophy at Duke University, Durham, N.C., who studies medical ethics, echoed that perspective, recounting the Paradox of the Heap, a thought experiment that involves placing grains of sand one on top of the next. The philosophical quandary is this: At what point do those grains of sand become something more – a heap?

“We’re going to have a rough time placing a dividing line that this counts as a person and this does not count as a person,” he said. “Many things count as life – a sperm counts as life, a person in a persistent vegetative state counts as life – but does that constitute a person that we should be protecting?”

Even as debate over the court’s abortion decision percolates, the 1981 federal statute that grew out of the presidential committee’s findings, the Uniform Determination of Death Act, is also under review. In 2022, the Uniform Law Commission, a nonpartisan group of legal experts that drafts laws intended for adoption in multiple states, has taken up the work to revisit the definition of death.

The group will consider sharpening the medical standards for brain death in light of advances in the understanding of brain function. And they will look to address lingering questions raised in recent years as families and religious groups have waged heated legal battles over terminating artificial life support for patients with no brain wave activity.

Mr. Bopp, with the National Right to Life Committee, is among those serving on advisory panels for the effort, along with an array of doctors, philosophers, and medical ethicists. The concept of “personhood” that infuses the antiabortion movement’s broader push for fetal rights is expected to be an underlying topic, albeit in mirror image: When does a life form cease being a person?

Dr. Magnus, who is also serving on an advisory panel, has no doubt the commission will reach a consensus, a sober resolution rooted in science. What’s less clear, he said, is whether in today’s political environment that updated definition will hold the same sway, an enduring legal standard embraced across states.

KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation.

As life-preserving medical technology advanced in the second half of the 20th century, doctors and families were faced with a thorny decision, one with weighty legal and moral implications: How should we define when life ends? Cardiopulmonary bypass machines could keep the blood pumping and ventilators could maintain breathing long after a patient’s natural ability to perform those vital functions had ceased.

After decades of deliberations involving physicians, bioethicists, attorneys, and theologians, a U.S. presidential commission in 1981 settled on a scientifically derived dividing line between life and death that has endured, more or less, ever since: A person was considered dead when the entire brain – including the brain stem, its most primitive portion – was no longer functioning, even if other vital functions could be maintained indefinitely through artificial life support.

In the decades since, the committee’s criteria have served as a foundation for laws in most states adopting brain death as a standard for legal death.

Now, with the overturning of Roe v. Wade and dozens of states rushing to impose abortion restrictions, American society is engaged in a chaotic race to define the other pole of human existence: When exactly does human life begin? At conception, the hint of a heartbeat, a first breath, the ability to survive outside the womb with the help of the latest technology?

That we’ve been able to devise and apply uniform clinical standards for when life ends, but not when it begins, is due largely to the legal and political maelstrom around abortion. And in the 2 months since the U.S. Supreme Court issued its opinion in Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization, eliminating a longstanding federal right to abortion, state legislators are eagerly bounding into that void, looking to codify into law assorted definitions of life that carry profound repercussions for abortion rights, birth control, and assisted reproduction, as well as civil and criminal law.

“The court said that when life begins is up to whoever is running your state – whether they are wrong or not, or you agree with them or not,” said Mary Ziegler, a law professor at the University of California, Davis, who has written several books on the history of abortion.

Unlike the debate over death, which delved into exquisite medical and scientific detail, the legislative scramble to determine when life’s building blocks reach a threshold that warrants government protection as human life has generally ignored the input of mainstream medical professionals.

Instead, red states across much of the South and portions of the Midwest are adopting language drafted by elected officials that is informed by conservative Christian doctrine, often with little scientific underpinning.

A handful of Republican-led states, including Arkansas, Kentucky, Missouri, and Oklahoma, have passed laws declaring that life begins at fertilization, a contention that opens the door to a host of pregnancy-related litigation. This includes wrongful death lawsuits brought on behalf of the estate of an embryo by disgruntled ex-partners against physicians and women who end a pregnancy or even miscarry. (One such lawsuit is underway in Arizona. Another reached the Alabama Supreme Court.)

In Kentucky, the law outlawing abortion uses morally explosive terms to define pregnancy as “the human female reproductive condition of having a living unborn human being within her body throughout the entire embryonic and fetal stages of the unborn child from fertilization to full gestation and childbirth.”

Several other states, including Georgia, have adopted measures equating life with the point at which an embryo’s nascent cardiac activity can be detected by an ultrasound, at around 6 weeks of gestation. Many such laws mischaracterize the flickering electrical impulses detectable at that stage as a heartbeat, including in Georgia, whose Department of Revenue recently announced that “any unborn child with a detectable human heartbeat” can be claimed as a dependent.

The Supreme Court’s 1973 decision in Roe v. Wade that established a constitutional right to abortion did not define a moment when life begins. The opinion, written by Justice Harry Blackmun, observed that the Constitution does not provide a definition of “person,” though it extends protections to those born or naturalized in the United States. The court majority made note of the many disparate views among religions and scientists on when life begins, and concluded it was not up to the states to adopt one theory of life.

Instead, Roe created a framework intended to balance a pregnant woman’s right to make decisions about her body with a public interest in protecting potential human life. That decision and a key ruling that followed generally recognized a woman’s right to abortion up to the point medical professionals judge a fetus viable to survive outside the uterus, at about 24 weeks of gestation.

In decisively overturning Roe in June, the Supreme Court’s conservative majority drew on legal arguments that have shaped another contentious end-of-life issue. The legal standard employed in Dobbs – that there is no right to abortion in the federal Constitution and that states can decide on their own – is the same rationale used in 1997 when the Supreme Court said terminally ill people did not have a constitutional right to medically assisted death. That decision, Washington v. Glucksberg, is mentioned 15 times in the majority opinion for Dobbs and a concurrence by Justice Clarence Thomas.

Often, the same groups that have led the fight to outlaw abortion have also challenged medical aid-in-dying laws. Even after Dobbs, so-called right-to-die laws remain far less common than those codifying state abortion rights. Ten states allow physicians to prescribe lethal doses of medicine for terminally ill patients. Doctors are still prohibited from administering the drugs.

James Bopp, general counsel for the National Right to Life Committee who has been central to the efforts to outlaw abortion, said that both abortion and medically assisted death, which he refers to as physician-assisted suicide, endanger society.

“Every individual human life has inherent value and is sacred,” said Mr. Bopp. “The government has the duty to protect that life.”

Both issues raise profound societal questions: Can the government keep a patient on life support against his wishes, or force a woman to give birth? Can states bar their own residents from going to other states to end a pregnancy, or prohibit out-of-state patients from coming in to seek medically assisted death? And who gets to decide, particularly if the answer imposes a singular religious viewpoint?

Just as there are legal implications that flow from determining a person’s death, from organ donation to inheritance, the implied rights held by a legally recognized zygote are potentially vast. Will death certificates be issued for every lost pregnancy? Will miscarriages be investigated? When will Social Security numbers be issued? How will census counts be tallied and congressional districts drawn?

Medical professionals and bioethicists caution that both the beginning and end of life are complicated biological processes that are not defined by a single identifiable moment – and are ill suited to the political arena.

“Unfortunately, biological occurrences are not events, they are processes,” said David Magnus, PhD, director of the Stanford (Calif.) Center for Biomedical Ethics.

Moreover, asking doctors “What is life?” or “What is death?” may miss the point, said Dr. Magnus: “Medicine can answer the question ‘When does a biological organism cease to exist?’ But they can’t answer the question ‘When does a person begin or end?’ because those are metaphysical issues.”

Ben Sarbey, a doctoral candidate in the department of philosophy at Duke University, Durham, N.C., who studies medical ethics, echoed that perspective, recounting the Paradox of the Heap, a thought experiment that involves placing grains of sand one on top of the next. The philosophical quandary is this: At what point do those grains of sand become something more – a heap?

“We’re going to have a rough time placing a dividing line that this counts as a person and this does not count as a person,” he said. “Many things count as life – a sperm counts as life, a person in a persistent vegetative state counts as life – but does that constitute a person that we should be protecting?”

Even as debate over the court’s abortion decision percolates, the 1981 federal statute that grew out of the presidential committee’s findings, the Uniform Determination of Death Act, is also under review. In 2022, the Uniform Law Commission, a nonpartisan group of legal experts that drafts laws intended for adoption in multiple states, has taken up the work to revisit the definition of death.

The group will consider sharpening the medical standards for brain death in light of advances in the understanding of brain function. And they will look to address lingering questions raised in recent years as families and religious groups have waged heated legal battles over terminating artificial life support for patients with no brain wave activity.

Mr. Bopp, with the National Right to Life Committee, is among those serving on advisory panels for the effort, along with an array of doctors, philosophers, and medical ethicists. The concept of “personhood” that infuses the antiabortion movement’s broader push for fetal rights is expected to be an underlying topic, albeit in mirror image: When does a life form cease being a person?

Dr. Magnus, who is also serving on an advisory panel, has no doubt the commission will reach a consensus, a sober resolution rooted in science. What’s less clear, he said, is whether in today’s political environment that updated definition will hold the same sway, an enduring legal standard embraced across states.

KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation.

Even as the war in Ukraine has prompted an exodus of international companies — from fast-food chains and oil producers to luxury retailers — from Russia, U.S. and global drug companies said they would continue manufacturing and selling their products there.

Airlines, automakers, banks, and technology giants — at least 320 companies by one count — are among the businesses curtailing operations or making high-profile exits from Russia as its invasion of Ukraine intensifies. McDonald’s, Starbucks, and Coca-Cola announced a pause in sales recently.

But drugmakers, medical device manufacturers, and health care companies, which are exempted from U.S. and European sanctions, said Russians need access to medicines and medical equipment and contend that international humanitarian law requires they keep supply chains open.

“As a health care company, we have an important purpose, which is why at this time we continue to serve people in all countries in which we operate who depend on us for essential products, some life-sustaining,” said Scott Stoffel, divisional vice president for Illinois-based Abbott Laboratories, which manufactures and sells medicines in Russia for oncology, women’s health, pancreatic insufficiency, and liver health.

Johnson & Johnson — which has corporate offices in Moscow, Novosibirsk, St. Petersburg, and Yekaterinburg — said in a statement, “We remain committed to providing essential health products to those in need in Ukraine, Russia, and the region, in compliance with current sanctions and while adapting to the rapidly changing situation on the ground.”

The reluctance of drugmakers to pause operations in Russia is being met with a growing chorus of criticism.

Pharmaceutical companies that say they must continue to manufacture drugs in Russia for humanitarian reasons are “being misguided at best, cynical in the medium case, and outright deplorably misleading and deceptive,” said Jeffrey Sonnenfeld, DBA, a professor at the Yale School of Management who is tracking which companies have curtailed operations in Russia. He noted that banks and technology companies also provide essential services.

“Russians are put in a tragic position of unearned suffering. If we continue to make life palatable for them, then we are continuing to support the regime,” Dr. Sonnenfeld said. “These drug companies will be seen as complicit with the most vicious operation on the planet. Instead of protecting life, they are going to be seen as destroying life. The goal here is to show that Putin is not in control of all sectors of the economy.”

U.S. pharmaceutical and medical companies have operated in Russia for decades, and many ramped up operations after Russia invaded and annexed Crimea in 2014, navigating the fraught relationship between the United States and Russia amid sanctions. In 2010, Vladimir Putin, then Russian prime minister, announced an ambitious national plan for the Russian pharmaceutical industry that would be a pillar in his efforts to reestablish his country as an influential superpower and wean the country off Western pharmaceutical imports. Under the plan, called “Pharma-2020” and “Pharma-2030,” the government required Western pharmaceutical companies eager to sell to Russia’s growing middle class to locate production inside the country.

Pfizer, Johnson & Johnson, Novartis, and Abbott are among the drugmakers that manufacture pharmaceutical drugs at facilities in St. Petersburg and elsewhere in the country and typically sell those drugs as branded generics or under Russian brands.

Pfizer’s CEO, Albert Bourla, said on CBS that the giant drugmaker is not going to make further investments in Russia, but that it will not cut ties with Russia, as multinational companies in other industries are doing.

Pharmaceutical manufacturing plants in Kaluga, a major manufacturing center for Volkswagen and Volvo southwest of Moscow, have been funded through a partnership between Rusnano, a state-owned venture that promotes the development of high-tech enterprises, and U.S. venture capital firms.

Russia also has sought to position itself as an attractive research market, offering an inexpensive and lax regulatory environment for clinical drug trials. Last year, Pfizer conducted in Russia clinical trials of Paxlovid, its experimental antiviral pill to treat covid-19. Before the invasion began in late February, 3,072 trials were underway in Russia and 503 were underway in Ukraine, according to BioWorld, a reporting hub focused on drug development that features data from Cortellis.

AstraZeneca is the top sponsor of clinical trials in Russia, with 49 trials, followed by a subsidiary of Merck, with 48 trials.

So far, drugmakers’ response to the Ukraine invasion has largely centered on public pledges to donate essential medicines and vaccines to Ukrainian patients and refugees. They’ve also made general comments about the need to keep open the supply of medicines flowing within Russia.

Abbott has pledged $2 million to support humanitarian efforts in Ukraine, and Pfizer, based in New York, said it has supplied $1 million in humanitarian grants. Swiss drug maker Novartis said it was expanding humanitarian efforts in Ukraine and working to “ensure the continued supply of our medicines in Ukraine.”

But no major pharmaceutical or medical device maker has announced plans to shutter manufacturing plants or halt sales inside Russia.

In an open letter, hundreds of leaders of mainly smaller biotechnology companies have called on industry members to cease business activities in Russia, including “investment in Russian companies and new investment within the borders of Russia,” and to halt trade and collaboration with Russian companies, except for supplying food and medicines. How many of the signatories have business operations in Russia was unclear.

Ulrich Neumann, director for market access at Janssen, a Johnson & Johnson company, was among those who signed the letter, but whether he was speaking for the company was unclear. In its own statement posted on social media, the company said it’s “committed to providing access to our essential medical products in the countries where we operate, in compliance with current international sanctions.”

GlaxoSmithKline, headquartered in the United Kingdom, said in a statement that it’s stopping all advertising in Russia and will not enter into contracts that “directly support the Russian administration or military.” But the company said that as a “supplier of needed medicines, vaccines and everyday health products, we have a responsibility to do all we can to make them available. For this reason, we will continue to supply our products to the people of Russia, while we can.”

Nell Minow, vice chair of ValueEdge Advisors, an investment consulting firm, noted that drug companies have been treated differently than other industries during previous global conflicts. For example, some corporate ethicists advised against pharmaceutical companies’ total divestment from South Africa’s apartheid regime to ensure essential medicines flowed to the country.

“There is a difference between a hamburger and a pill,” Mr. Minow said. Companies should strongly condemn Russia’s actions, she said, but unless the United States enters directly into a war with Russia, companies that make essential medicines and health care products should continue to operate. Before U.S. involvement in World War II, she added, there were “some American companies that did business with Germany until the last minute.”
 

KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation. KHN senior correspondent Arthur Allen contributed to this article.

Even as the war in Ukraine has prompted an exodus of international companies — from fast-food chains and oil producers to luxury retailers — from Russia, U.S. and global drug companies said they would continue manufacturing and selling their products there.

Airlines, automakers, banks, and technology giants — at least 320 companies by one count — are among the businesses curtailing operations or making high-profile exits from Russia as its invasion of Ukraine intensifies. McDonald’s, Starbucks, and Coca-Cola announced a pause in sales recently.

But drugmakers, medical device manufacturers, and health care companies, which are exempted from U.S. and European sanctions, said Russians need access to medicines and medical equipment and contend that international humanitarian law requires they keep supply chains open.

“As a health care company, we have an important purpose, which is why at this time we continue to serve people in all countries in which we operate who depend on us for essential products, some life-sustaining,” said Scott Stoffel, divisional vice president for Illinois-based Abbott Laboratories, which manufactures and sells medicines in Russia for oncology, women’s health, pancreatic insufficiency, and liver health.

Johnson & Johnson — which has corporate offices in Moscow, Novosibirsk, St. Petersburg, and Yekaterinburg — said in a statement, “We remain committed to providing essential health products to those in need in Ukraine, Russia, and the region, in compliance with current sanctions and while adapting to the rapidly changing situation on the ground.”

The reluctance of drugmakers to pause operations in Russia is being met with a growing chorus of criticism.

Pharmaceutical companies that say they must continue to manufacture drugs in Russia for humanitarian reasons are “being misguided at best, cynical in the medium case, and outright deplorably misleading and deceptive,” said Jeffrey Sonnenfeld, DBA, a professor at the Yale School of Management who is tracking which companies have curtailed operations in Russia. He noted that banks and technology companies also provide essential services.

“Russians are put in a tragic position of unearned suffering. If we continue to make life palatable for them, then we are continuing to support the regime,” Dr. Sonnenfeld said. “These drug companies will be seen as complicit with the most vicious operation on the planet. Instead of protecting life, they are going to be seen as destroying life. The goal here is to show that Putin is not in control of all sectors of the economy.”

U.S. pharmaceutical and medical companies have operated in Russia for decades, and many ramped up operations after Russia invaded and annexed Crimea in 2014, navigating the fraught relationship between the United States and Russia amid sanctions. In 2010, Vladimir Putin, then Russian prime minister, announced an ambitious national plan for the Russian pharmaceutical industry that would be a pillar in his efforts to reestablish his country as an influential superpower and wean the country off Western pharmaceutical imports. Under the plan, called “Pharma-2020” and “Pharma-2030,” the government required Western pharmaceutical companies eager to sell to Russia’s growing middle class to locate production inside the country.

Pfizer, Johnson & Johnson, Novartis, and Abbott are among the drugmakers that manufacture pharmaceutical drugs at facilities in St. Petersburg and elsewhere in the country and typically sell those drugs as branded generics or under Russian brands.

Pfizer’s CEO, Albert Bourla, said on CBS that the giant drugmaker is not going to make further investments in Russia, but that it will not cut ties with Russia, as multinational companies in other industries are doing.

Pharmaceutical manufacturing plants in Kaluga, a major manufacturing center for Volkswagen and Volvo southwest of Moscow, have been funded through a partnership between Rusnano, a state-owned venture that promotes the development of high-tech enterprises, and U.S. venture capital firms.

Russia also has sought to position itself as an attractive research market, offering an inexpensive and lax regulatory environment for clinical drug trials. Last year, Pfizer conducted in Russia clinical trials of Paxlovid, its experimental antiviral pill to treat covid-19. Before the invasion began in late February, 3,072 trials were underway in Russia and 503 were underway in Ukraine, according to BioWorld, a reporting hub focused on drug development that features data from Cortellis.

AstraZeneca is the top sponsor of clinical trials in Russia, with 49 trials, followed by a subsidiary of Merck, with 48 trials.

So far, drugmakers’ response to the Ukraine invasion has largely centered on public pledges to donate essential medicines and vaccines to Ukrainian patients and refugees. They’ve also made general comments about the need to keep open the supply of medicines flowing within Russia.

Abbott has pledged $2 million to support humanitarian efforts in Ukraine, and Pfizer, based in New York, said it has supplied $1 million in humanitarian grants. Swiss drug maker Novartis said it was expanding humanitarian efforts in Ukraine and working to “ensure the continued supply of our medicines in Ukraine.”

But no major pharmaceutical or medical device maker has announced plans to shutter manufacturing plants or halt sales inside Russia.

In an open letter, hundreds of leaders of mainly smaller biotechnology companies have called on industry members to cease business activities in Russia, including “investment in Russian companies and new investment within the borders of Russia,” and to halt trade and collaboration with Russian companies, except for supplying food and medicines. How many of the signatories have business operations in Russia was unclear.

Ulrich Neumann, director for market access at Janssen, a Johnson & Johnson company, was among those who signed the letter, but whether he was speaking for the company was unclear. In its own statement posted on social media, the company said it’s “committed to providing access to our essential medical products in the countries where we operate, in compliance with current international sanctions.”

GlaxoSmithKline, headquartered in the United Kingdom, said in a statement that it’s stopping all advertising in Russia and will not enter into contracts that “directly support the Russian administration or military.” But the company said that as a “supplier of needed medicines, vaccines and everyday health products, we have a responsibility to do all we can to make them available. For this reason, we will continue to supply our products to the people of Russia, while we can.”

Nell Minow, vice chair of ValueEdge Advisors, an investment consulting firm, noted that drug companies have been treated differently than other industries during previous global conflicts. For example, some corporate ethicists advised against pharmaceutical companies’ total divestment from South Africa’s apartheid regime to ensure essential medicines flowed to the country.

“There is a difference between a hamburger and a pill,” Mr. Minow said. Companies should strongly condemn Russia’s actions, she said, but unless the United States enters directly into a war with Russia, companies that make essential medicines and health care products should continue to operate. Before U.S. involvement in World War II, she added, there were “some American companies that did business with Germany until the last minute.”
 

KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation. KHN senior correspondent Arthur Allen contributed to this article.

Even as the war in Ukraine has prompted an exodus of international companies — from fast-food chains and oil producers to luxury retailers — from Russia, U.S. and global drug companies said they would continue manufacturing and selling their products there.

Airlines, automakers, banks, and technology giants — at least 320 companies by one count — are among the businesses curtailing operations or making high-profile exits from Russia as its invasion of Ukraine intensifies. McDonald’s, Starbucks, and Coca-Cola announced a pause in sales recently.

But drugmakers, medical device manufacturers, and health care companies, which are exempted from U.S. and European sanctions, said Russians need access to medicines and medical equipment and contend that international humanitarian law requires they keep supply chains open.

“As a health care company, we have an important purpose, which is why at this time we continue to serve people in all countries in which we operate who depend on us for essential products, some life-sustaining,” said Scott Stoffel, divisional vice president for Illinois-based Abbott Laboratories, which manufactures and sells medicines in Russia for oncology, women’s health, pancreatic insufficiency, and liver health.

Johnson & Johnson — which has corporate offices in Moscow, Novosibirsk, St. Petersburg, and Yekaterinburg — said in a statement, “We remain committed to providing essential health products to those in need in Ukraine, Russia, and the region, in compliance with current sanctions and while adapting to the rapidly changing situation on the ground.”

The reluctance of drugmakers to pause operations in Russia is being met with a growing chorus of criticism.

Pharmaceutical companies that say they must continue to manufacture drugs in Russia for humanitarian reasons are “being misguided at best, cynical in the medium case, and outright deplorably misleading and deceptive,” said Jeffrey Sonnenfeld, DBA, a professor at the Yale School of Management who is tracking which companies have curtailed operations in Russia. He noted that banks and technology companies also provide essential services.

“Russians are put in a tragic position of unearned suffering. If we continue to make life palatable for them, then we are continuing to support the regime,” Dr. Sonnenfeld said. “These drug companies will be seen as complicit with the most vicious operation on the planet. Instead of protecting life, they are going to be seen as destroying life. The goal here is to show that Putin is not in control of all sectors of the economy.”

U.S. pharmaceutical and medical companies have operated in Russia for decades, and many ramped up operations after Russia invaded and annexed Crimea in 2014, navigating the fraught relationship between the United States and Russia amid sanctions. In 2010, Vladimir Putin, then Russian prime minister, announced an ambitious national plan for the Russian pharmaceutical industry that would be a pillar in his efforts to reestablish his country as an influential superpower and wean the country off Western pharmaceutical imports. Under the plan, called “Pharma-2020” and “Pharma-2030,” the government required Western pharmaceutical companies eager to sell to Russia’s growing middle class to locate production inside the country.

Pfizer, Johnson & Johnson, Novartis, and Abbott are among the drugmakers that manufacture pharmaceutical drugs at facilities in St. Petersburg and elsewhere in the country and typically sell those drugs as branded generics or under Russian brands.

Pfizer’s CEO, Albert Bourla, said on CBS that the giant drugmaker is not going to make further investments in Russia, but that it will not cut ties with Russia, as multinational companies in other industries are doing.

Pharmaceutical manufacturing plants in Kaluga, a major manufacturing center for Volkswagen and Volvo southwest of Moscow, have been funded through a partnership between Rusnano, a state-owned venture that promotes the development of high-tech enterprises, and U.S. venture capital firms.

Russia also has sought to position itself as an attractive research market, offering an inexpensive and lax regulatory environment for clinical drug trials. Last year, Pfizer conducted in Russia clinical trials of Paxlovid, its experimental antiviral pill to treat covid-19. Before the invasion began in late February, 3,072 trials were underway in Russia and 503 were underway in Ukraine, according to BioWorld, a reporting hub focused on drug development that features data from Cortellis.

AstraZeneca is the top sponsor of clinical trials in Russia, with 49 trials, followed by a subsidiary of Merck, with 48 trials.

So far, drugmakers’ response to the Ukraine invasion has largely centered on public pledges to donate essential medicines and vaccines to Ukrainian patients and refugees. They’ve also made general comments about the need to keep open the supply of medicines flowing within Russia.

Abbott has pledged $2 million to support humanitarian efforts in Ukraine, and Pfizer, based in New York, said it has supplied $1 million in humanitarian grants. Swiss drug maker Novartis said it was expanding humanitarian efforts in Ukraine and working to “ensure the continued supply of our medicines in Ukraine.”

But no major pharmaceutical or medical device maker has announced plans to shutter manufacturing plants or halt sales inside Russia.

In an open letter, hundreds of leaders of mainly smaller biotechnology companies have called on industry members to cease business activities in Russia, including “investment in Russian companies and new investment within the borders of Russia,” and to halt trade and collaboration with Russian companies, except for supplying food and medicines. How many of the signatories have business operations in Russia was unclear.

Ulrich Neumann, director for market access at Janssen, a Johnson & Johnson company, was among those who signed the letter, but whether he was speaking for the company was unclear. In its own statement posted on social media, the company said it’s “committed to providing access to our essential medical products in the countries where we operate, in compliance with current international sanctions.”

GlaxoSmithKline, headquartered in the United Kingdom, said in a statement that it’s stopping all advertising in Russia and will not enter into contracts that “directly support the Russian administration or military.” But the company said that as a “supplier of needed medicines, vaccines and everyday health products, we have a responsibility to do all we can to make them available. For this reason, we will continue to supply our products to the people of Russia, while we can.”

Nell Minow, vice chair of ValueEdge Advisors, an investment consulting firm, noted that drug companies have been treated differently than other industries during previous global conflicts. For example, some corporate ethicists advised against pharmaceutical companies’ total divestment from South Africa’s apartheid regime to ensure essential medicines flowed to the country.

“There is a difference between a hamburger and a pill,” Mr. Minow said. Companies should strongly condemn Russia’s actions, she said, but unless the United States enters directly into a war with Russia, companies that make essential medicines and health care products should continue to operate. Before U.S. involvement in World War II, she added, there were “some American companies that did business with Germany until the last minute.”
 

KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation. KHN senior correspondent Arthur Allen contributed to this article.

In January, as Mississippi health officials planned for their incoming shipments of COVID-19 vaccine, they assessed the state’s most vulnerable: health care workers, of course, and elderly people in nursing homes. But among those who needed urgent protection from the virus ripping across the Magnolia State were 1 million Mississippians with obesity.

Obesity and weight-related illnesses have been deadly liabilities in the COVID era. A report released this month by the World Obesity Federation found that increased body weight is the second-greatest predictor of COVID-related hospitalization and death across the globe, trailing only old age as a risk factor.

As a fixture of life in the American South – home to 9 of the nation’s 12 heaviest states – obesity is playing a role not only in COVID outcomes, but in the calculus of the vaccination rollout. Mississippi was one of the first states to add a body mass index of 30 or more (a rough gauge of obesity tied to height and weight) to the list of qualifying medical conditions for a shot. About 40% of the state’s adults meet that definition, according to federal health survey data, and combined with the risk group already eligible for vaccination – residents 65 and older – that means fully half of Mississippi’s adults are entitled to vie for a restricted allotment of shots.

At least 29 states have green-lighted obesity for inclusion in the first phases of the vaccine rollout, according to KFF – a vast widening of eligibility that has the potential to overwhelm government efforts and heighten competition for scarce doses.

“We have a lifesaving intervention, and we don’t have enough of it,” said Jen Kates, PhD, director of global health and HIV policy for Kaiser Family Foundation. “Hard choices are being made about who should go first, and there is no right answer.”

The sheer prevalence of obesity in the nation – two in three Americans exceed what is considered a healthy weight – was a public health concern well before the pandemic. But COVID-19 dramatically fast-tracked the discussion from warnings about the long-term damage excess fat tissue can pose to heart, lung and metabolic functions to far more immediate threats.

In the United Kingdom, for example, overweight COVID patients were 67% more likely to require intensive care, and obese patients three times likelier, according to the World Obesity Federation report. A Centers for Disease Control and Prevention study released Monday found a similar trend among U.S. patients and noted that the risk of COVID-related hospitalization, ventilation and death increased with patients’ obesity level.

The counties that hug the southern Mississippi River are home to some of the most concentrated pockets of extreme obesity in the United States. Coronavirus infections began surging in Southern states early last summer, and hospitalizations rose in step.

Deaths in rural stretches of Arkansas, Louisiana, Mississippi, and Tennessee have been overshadowed by the sheer number of deaths in metropolitan areas like New York, Los Angeles, and Essex County, N.J. But as a share of the population, the coronavirus has been similarly unsparing in many Southern communities. In sparsely populated Claiborne County, Miss., on the floodplains of the Mississippi River, 30 residents – about 1 in 300 – had died as of early March. In East Feliciana Parish, La., north of Baton Rouge, with 106 deaths, about 1 in 180 had died by then.

“It’s just math. If the population is more obese and obesity clearly contributes to worse outcomes, then neighborhoods, cities, states and countries that are more obese will have a greater toll from COVID,” said Dr. James de Lemos, MD, a professor of internal medicine at UT Southwestern Medical Center in Dallas who led a study of hospitalized COVID patients published in the medical journal Circulation.

And, because in the U.S. obesity rates tend to be relatively high among African Americans and Latinos who are poor, with diminished access to health care, “it’s a triple whammy,” Dr. de Lemos said. “All these things intersect.”

Poverty and limited access to medical care are common features in the South, where residents like Michelle Antonyshyn, a former registered nurse and mother of seven in Salem, Ark., say they are afraid of the virus. Ms. Antonyshyn, 49, has obesity and debilitating pain in her knees and back, though she does not have high blood pressure or diabetes, two underlying conditions that federal health officials have determined are added risk factors for severe cases of COVID-19.

Still, she said, she “was very concerned just knowing that being obese puts you more at risk for bad outcomes such as being on a ventilator and death.” As a precaution, Ms. Antonyshyn said, she and her large brood locked down early and stopped attending church services in person, watching online instead.

“It’s not the same as having fellowship, but the risk for me was enough,” said Ms. Antonyshyn.

Governors throughout the South seem to recognize that weight can contribute to COVID-19 complications and have pushed for vaccine eligibility rules that prioritize obesity. But on the ground, local health officials are girding for having to tell newly eligible people who qualify as obese that there aren’t enough shots to go around.

In Port Gibson, Miss., Mheja Williams, MD, medical director of the Claiborne County Family Health Center, has been receiving barely enough doses to inoculate the health workers and oldest seniors in her county of 9,600. One week in early February, she received 100 doses.

Obesity and extreme obesity are endemic in Claiborne County, and health officials say the “normalization” of obesity means people often don’t register their weight as a risk factor, whether for COVID or other health issues. The risks are exacerbated by a general flouting of pandemic etiquette: Dr. Williams said that middle-aged and younger residents are not especially vigilant about physical distancing and that mask use is rare.

The rise of obesity in the United States is well documented over the past half-century, as the nation turned from a diet of fruits, vegetables and limited meats to one laden with ultra-processed foods and rich with salt, fat, sugar, and flavorings, along with copious amounts of meat, fast food, and soda. The U.S. has generally led the global obesity race, setting records as even toddlers and young children grew implausibly, dangerously overweight.

Well before COVID, obesity was a leading cause of preventable death in the United States. The National Institutes of Health declared it a disease in 1998, one that fosters heart disease, stroke, type 2 diabetes, and breast, colon, and other cancers.

Researchers say it is no coincidence that nations like the United States, the United Kingdom, and Italy, with relatively high obesity rates, have proved particularly vulnerable to the novel coronavirus.

They believe the virus may exploit underlying metabolic and physiological impairments that often exist in concert with obesity. Extra fat can lead to a cascade of metabolic disruptions, chronic systemic inflammation, and hormonal dysregulation that may thwart the body’s response to infection.

Other respiratory viruses, like influenza and SARS, which appeared in China in 2002, rely on cholesterol to spread enveloped RNA virus to neighboring cells, and researchers have proposed that a similar mechanism may play a role in the spread of the novel coronavirus.

There are also practical problems for coronavirus patients with obesity admitted to the hospital. They can be more difficult to intubate because of excess central weight pressing down on the diaphragm, making breathing with infected lungs even more difficult.

Physicians who specialize in treating patients with obesity say public health officials need to be more forthright and urgent in their messaging, telegraphing the risks of this COVID era.

“It should be explicit and direct,” said Fatima Stanford, MD, an obesity medicine specialist at Massachusetts General Hospital, Boston, and a Harvard Medical School instructor.

Dr. Stanford denounces the fat-shaming and bullying that people with obesity often experience. But telling patients – and the public – that obesity increases the risk of hospitalization and death is crucial, she said.

“I don’t think it’s stigmatizing,” she said. “If you tell them in that way, it’s not to scare you, it’s just giving information. Sometimes people are just unaware.”



KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation.

In January, as Mississippi health officials planned for their incoming shipments of COVID-19 vaccine, they assessed the state’s most vulnerable: health care workers, of course, and elderly people in nursing homes. But among those who needed urgent protection from the virus ripping across the Magnolia State were 1 million Mississippians with obesity.

Obesity and weight-related illnesses have been deadly liabilities in the COVID era. A report released this month by the World Obesity Federation found that increased body weight is the second-greatest predictor of COVID-related hospitalization and death across the globe, trailing only old age as a risk factor.

As a fixture of life in the American South – home to 9 of the nation’s 12 heaviest states – obesity is playing a role not only in COVID outcomes, but in the calculus of the vaccination rollout. Mississippi was one of the first states to add a body mass index of 30 or more (a rough gauge of obesity tied to height and weight) to the list of qualifying medical conditions for a shot. About 40% of the state’s adults meet that definition, according to federal health survey data, and combined with the risk group already eligible for vaccination – residents 65 and older – that means fully half of Mississippi’s adults are entitled to vie for a restricted allotment of shots.

At least 29 states have green-lighted obesity for inclusion in the first phases of the vaccine rollout, according to KFF – a vast widening of eligibility that has the potential to overwhelm government efforts and heighten competition for scarce doses.

“We have a lifesaving intervention, and we don’t have enough of it,” said Jen Kates, PhD, director of global health and HIV policy for Kaiser Family Foundation. “Hard choices are being made about who should go first, and there is no right answer.”

The sheer prevalence of obesity in the nation – two in three Americans exceed what is considered a healthy weight – was a public health concern well before the pandemic. But COVID-19 dramatically fast-tracked the discussion from warnings about the long-term damage excess fat tissue can pose to heart, lung and metabolic functions to far more immediate threats.

In the United Kingdom, for example, overweight COVID patients were 67% more likely to require intensive care, and obese patients three times likelier, according to the World Obesity Federation report. A Centers for Disease Control and Prevention study released Monday found a similar trend among U.S. patients and noted that the risk of COVID-related hospitalization, ventilation and death increased with patients’ obesity level.

The counties that hug the southern Mississippi River are home to some of the most concentrated pockets of extreme obesity in the United States. Coronavirus infections began surging in Southern states early last summer, and hospitalizations rose in step.

Deaths in rural stretches of Arkansas, Louisiana, Mississippi, and Tennessee have been overshadowed by the sheer number of deaths in metropolitan areas like New York, Los Angeles, and Essex County, N.J. But as a share of the population, the coronavirus has been similarly unsparing in many Southern communities. In sparsely populated Claiborne County, Miss., on the floodplains of the Mississippi River, 30 residents – about 1 in 300 – had died as of early March. In East Feliciana Parish, La., north of Baton Rouge, with 106 deaths, about 1 in 180 had died by then.

“It’s just math. If the population is more obese and obesity clearly contributes to worse outcomes, then neighborhoods, cities, states and countries that are more obese will have a greater toll from COVID,” said Dr. James de Lemos, MD, a professor of internal medicine at UT Southwestern Medical Center in Dallas who led a study of hospitalized COVID patients published in the medical journal Circulation.

And, because in the U.S. obesity rates tend to be relatively high among African Americans and Latinos who are poor, with diminished access to health care, “it’s a triple whammy,” Dr. de Lemos said. “All these things intersect.”

Poverty and limited access to medical care are common features in the South, where residents like Michelle Antonyshyn, a former registered nurse and mother of seven in Salem, Ark., say they are afraid of the virus. Ms. Antonyshyn, 49, has obesity and debilitating pain in her knees and back, though she does not have high blood pressure or diabetes, two underlying conditions that federal health officials have determined are added risk factors for severe cases of COVID-19.

Still, she said, she “was very concerned just knowing that being obese puts you more at risk for bad outcomes such as being on a ventilator and death.” As a precaution, Ms. Antonyshyn said, she and her large brood locked down early and stopped attending church services in person, watching online instead.

“It’s not the same as having fellowship, but the risk for me was enough,” said Ms. Antonyshyn.

Governors throughout the South seem to recognize that weight can contribute to COVID-19 complications and have pushed for vaccine eligibility rules that prioritize obesity. But on the ground, local health officials are girding for having to tell newly eligible people who qualify as obese that there aren’t enough shots to go around.

In Port Gibson, Miss., Mheja Williams, MD, medical director of the Claiborne County Family Health Center, has been receiving barely enough doses to inoculate the health workers and oldest seniors in her county of 9,600. One week in early February, she received 100 doses.

Obesity and extreme obesity are endemic in Claiborne County, and health officials say the “normalization” of obesity means people often don’t register their weight as a risk factor, whether for COVID or other health issues. The risks are exacerbated by a general flouting of pandemic etiquette: Dr. Williams said that middle-aged and younger residents are not especially vigilant about physical distancing and that mask use is rare.

The rise of obesity in the United States is well documented over the past half-century, as the nation turned from a diet of fruits, vegetables and limited meats to one laden with ultra-processed foods and rich with salt, fat, sugar, and flavorings, along with copious amounts of meat, fast food, and soda. The U.S. has generally led the global obesity race, setting records as even toddlers and young children grew implausibly, dangerously overweight.

Well before COVID, obesity was a leading cause of preventable death in the United States. The National Institutes of Health declared it a disease in 1998, one that fosters heart disease, stroke, type 2 diabetes, and breast, colon, and other cancers.

Researchers say it is no coincidence that nations like the United States, the United Kingdom, and Italy, with relatively high obesity rates, have proved particularly vulnerable to the novel coronavirus.

They believe the virus may exploit underlying metabolic and physiological impairments that often exist in concert with obesity. Extra fat can lead to a cascade of metabolic disruptions, chronic systemic inflammation, and hormonal dysregulation that may thwart the body’s response to infection.

Other respiratory viruses, like influenza and SARS, which appeared in China in 2002, rely on cholesterol to spread enveloped RNA virus to neighboring cells, and researchers have proposed that a similar mechanism may play a role in the spread of the novel coronavirus.

There are also practical problems for coronavirus patients with obesity admitted to the hospital. They can be more difficult to intubate because of excess central weight pressing down on the diaphragm, making breathing with infected lungs even more difficult.

Physicians who specialize in treating patients with obesity say public health officials need to be more forthright and urgent in their messaging, telegraphing the risks of this COVID era.

“It should be explicit and direct,” said Fatima Stanford, MD, an obesity medicine specialist at Massachusetts General Hospital, Boston, and a Harvard Medical School instructor.

Dr. Stanford denounces the fat-shaming and bullying that people with obesity often experience. But telling patients – and the public – that obesity increases the risk of hospitalization and death is crucial, she said.

“I don’t think it’s stigmatizing,” she said. “If you tell them in that way, it’s not to scare you, it’s just giving information. Sometimes people are just unaware.”



KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation.

In January, as Mississippi health officials planned for their incoming shipments of COVID-19 vaccine, they assessed the state’s most vulnerable: health care workers, of course, and elderly people in nursing homes. But among those who needed urgent protection from the virus ripping across the Magnolia State were 1 million Mississippians with obesity.

Obesity and weight-related illnesses have been deadly liabilities in the COVID era. A report released this month by the World Obesity Federation found that increased body weight is the second-greatest predictor of COVID-related hospitalization and death across the globe, trailing only old age as a risk factor.

As a fixture of life in the American South – home to 9 of the nation’s 12 heaviest states – obesity is playing a role not only in COVID outcomes, but in the calculus of the vaccination rollout. Mississippi was one of the first states to add a body mass index of 30 or more (a rough gauge of obesity tied to height and weight) to the list of qualifying medical conditions for a shot. About 40% of the state’s adults meet that definition, according to federal health survey data, and combined with the risk group already eligible for vaccination – residents 65 and older – that means fully half of Mississippi’s adults are entitled to vie for a restricted allotment of shots.

At least 29 states have green-lighted obesity for inclusion in the first phases of the vaccine rollout, according to KFF – a vast widening of eligibility that has the potential to overwhelm government efforts and heighten competition for scarce doses.

“We have a lifesaving intervention, and we don’t have enough of it,” said Jen Kates, PhD, director of global health and HIV policy for Kaiser Family Foundation. “Hard choices are being made about who should go first, and there is no right answer.”

The sheer prevalence of obesity in the nation – two in three Americans exceed what is considered a healthy weight – was a public health concern well before the pandemic. But COVID-19 dramatically fast-tracked the discussion from warnings about the long-term damage excess fat tissue can pose to heart, lung and metabolic functions to far more immediate threats.

In the United Kingdom, for example, overweight COVID patients were 67% more likely to require intensive care, and obese patients three times likelier, according to the World Obesity Federation report. A Centers for Disease Control and Prevention study released Monday found a similar trend among U.S. patients and noted that the risk of COVID-related hospitalization, ventilation and death increased with patients’ obesity level.

The counties that hug the southern Mississippi River are home to some of the most concentrated pockets of extreme obesity in the United States. Coronavirus infections began surging in Southern states early last summer, and hospitalizations rose in step.

Deaths in rural stretches of Arkansas, Louisiana, Mississippi, and Tennessee have been overshadowed by the sheer number of deaths in metropolitan areas like New York, Los Angeles, and Essex County, N.J. But as a share of the population, the coronavirus has been similarly unsparing in many Southern communities. In sparsely populated Claiborne County, Miss., on the floodplains of the Mississippi River, 30 residents – about 1 in 300 – had died as of early March. In East Feliciana Parish, La., north of Baton Rouge, with 106 deaths, about 1 in 180 had died by then.

“It’s just math. If the population is more obese and obesity clearly contributes to worse outcomes, then neighborhoods, cities, states and countries that are more obese will have a greater toll from COVID,” said Dr. James de Lemos, MD, a professor of internal medicine at UT Southwestern Medical Center in Dallas who led a study of hospitalized COVID patients published in the medical journal Circulation.

And, because in the U.S. obesity rates tend to be relatively high among African Americans and Latinos who are poor, with diminished access to health care, “it’s a triple whammy,” Dr. de Lemos said. “All these things intersect.”

Poverty and limited access to medical care are common features in the South, where residents like Michelle Antonyshyn, a former registered nurse and mother of seven in Salem, Ark., say they are afraid of the virus. Ms. Antonyshyn, 49, has obesity and debilitating pain in her knees and back, though she does not have high blood pressure or diabetes, two underlying conditions that federal health officials have determined are added risk factors for severe cases of COVID-19.

Still, she said, she “was very concerned just knowing that being obese puts you more at risk for bad outcomes such as being on a ventilator and death.” As a precaution, Ms. Antonyshyn said, she and her large brood locked down early and stopped attending church services in person, watching online instead.

“It’s not the same as having fellowship, but the risk for me was enough,” said Ms. Antonyshyn.

Governors throughout the South seem to recognize that weight can contribute to COVID-19 complications and have pushed for vaccine eligibility rules that prioritize obesity. But on the ground, local health officials are girding for having to tell newly eligible people who qualify as obese that there aren’t enough shots to go around.

In Port Gibson, Miss., Mheja Williams, MD, medical director of the Claiborne County Family Health Center, has been receiving barely enough doses to inoculate the health workers and oldest seniors in her county of 9,600. One week in early February, she received 100 doses.

Obesity and extreme obesity are endemic in Claiborne County, and health officials say the “normalization” of obesity means people often don’t register their weight as a risk factor, whether for COVID or other health issues. The risks are exacerbated by a general flouting of pandemic etiquette: Dr. Williams said that middle-aged and younger residents are not especially vigilant about physical distancing and that mask use is rare.

The rise of obesity in the United States is well documented over the past half-century, as the nation turned from a diet of fruits, vegetables and limited meats to one laden with ultra-processed foods and rich with salt, fat, sugar, and flavorings, along with copious amounts of meat, fast food, and soda. The U.S. has generally led the global obesity race, setting records as even toddlers and young children grew implausibly, dangerously overweight.

Well before COVID, obesity was a leading cause of preventable death in the United States. The National Institutes of Health declared it a disease in 1998, one that fosters heart disease, stroke, type 2 diabetes, and breast, colon, and other cancers.

Researchers say it is no coincidence that nations like the United States, the United Kingdom, and Italy, with relatively high obesity rates, have proved particularly vulnerable to the novel coronavirus.

They believe the virus may exploit underlying metabolic and physiological impairments that often exist in concert with obesity. Extra fat can lead to a cascade of metabolic disruptions, chronic systemic inflammation, and hormonal dysregulation that may thwart the body’s response to infection.

Other respiratory viruses, like influenza and SARS, which appeared in China in 2002, rely on cholesterol to spread enveloped RNA virus to neighboring cells, and researchers have proposed that a similar mechanism may play a role in the spread of the novel coronavirus.

There are also practical problems for coronavirus patients with obesity admitted to the hospital. They can be more difficult to intubate because of excess central weight pressing down on the diaphragm, making breathing with infected lungs even more difficult.

Physicians who specialize in treating patients with obesity say public health officials need to be more forthright and urgent in their messaging, telegraphing the risks of this COVID era.

“It should be explicit and direct,” said Fatima Stanford, MD, an obesity medicine specialist at Massachusetts General Hospital, Boston, and a Harvard Medical School instructor.

Dr. Stanford denounces the fat-shaming and bullying that people with obesity often experience. But telling patients – and the public – that obesity increases the risk of hospitalization and death is crucial, she said.

“I don’t think it’s stigmatizing,” she said. “If you tell them in that way, it’s not to scare you, it’s just giving information. Sometimes people are just unaware.”



KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation.