TIME: Almanac 1993/TIME Almanac 1993.iso/time/071591/0715133.000

Text File | 1992-08-28 | 6.3 KB | 131 lines

                                                                                HEALTH, Page 59

COVER STORIES

The Man with the Plan


With endless energy, eagle-scout scruples and a head for
headlines, David Kessler revives the battered FDA

By DICK THOMPSON/WASHINGTON


    The food and drug industry lawyers had heard it all
before. Now, here was the freshly minted FDA commissioner, still
wet behind the ears at 39, giving them the usual dose of tough
talk. "Ladies and gentlemen," David Kessler began, "I am here
today to tell you that I place a high priority on enforcing the
law." The attorneys, convened in a Palm Beach hotel, nodded
obligingly. "This is not the idle talk of a new commissioner,"
Kessler continued, to more polite nods. Then came the surprise.
"Today the U.S. Attorney's office in Minneapolis is filing on
FDA's behalf a seizure action against Procter & Gamble's Citrus
Hill Fresh Choice orange juice," he said. "The use of the term
`fresh' is false and misleading, and it is confusing to
consumers." The nodding stopped, the lawyers grew silent, and
many began to wonder, "Who is this guy?"

    The guy who stunned the food industry that April morning,
and many times after, is almost certainly the most capable
person ever put in charge of the Food and Drug Administration.
It is not a post that most folks would relish. When Kessler was
appointed last December, he faced an agency that for more than
a decade had been bled of funds by the White House and burdened
with new responsibilities by Congress. AIDS activists were
picketing the front doors because of the FDA's sluggish pace in
approving drugs. Five employees had been convicted of accepting
bribes from the generic-drug industry. There were allegations
that other staffers were selling insider information about drug
approvals to stockbrokers. And a federal report had just
concluded that the agency's outmoded labs and meager staff were
incapable of ensuring the safety of foods or the efficacy of new
drugs.

    But to Kessler, inheriting this mess is the opportunity of
a lifetime, one he's been rigorously training for since
college. A Harvard-educated physician and a University of
Chicago-trained lawyer, he defied geography and sleep deficits
to achieve both degrees simultaneously. He studied management
at New York University and politics as a Senate staffer. For
nine years, he ran the hospital at the Albert Einstein College
of Medicine. When he was tapped for the FDA post, he was serving
on a federal commission analyzing that very agency. "A lot of
my background comes together here," he says. "I feel
comfortable, enormously comfortable here."

    Kessler always has a plan, and targeting a
food-manufacturing giant such as Procter & Gamble was certainly
part of one. Says Washington attorney and longtime friend Stuart
Pape: "Going after large companies and being tough have been
part of a well-considered strategy to increase the credibility
and morale of the agency."


    Inside the FDA Kessler has been just as aggressive. He's
cut the time frame for legal action against a violator from 50
to 25 days. He has also begun to streamline the organization,
consolidating 23 department heads into five new positions. For
these spots, Kessler has recruited from the private sector a
number of high-powered management consultants and Washington
attorneys. Most are in their early 40s, and some of them will
be earning less at the FDA than they paid last year in taxes.

    To old friends, Kessler's first target is wonderfully
appropriate. The man has always had an obsession with food, and
he has certainly never been a nuts-and-berries purist. "I was
a fat kid," he says. In college, he was the only student in his
dorm who brought an entire refrigerator from home. He kept it
stocked with sodas, bagels, cream cheese and cold cuts. At
Amherst, he organized a pie-throwing party after negotiating a
deal for 200 strawberry-rhubarb pies. In law school he trained
on pizza, Chinese food and ice cream. He still has a passion for
take-out, and he starts each day with a diet cola. Back in
December, at 205 lbs., Kessler was concerned that he'd cut too
large a figure for a top health officer. So with characteristic
discipline, he decided to reduce his calorie intake (by skipping
lunch) and start exercising (usually running at 1 a.m.). Now,
after altering his suits twice, he's a bony 155. Says his wife
Paulette, an attorney: "He just has incredible willpower, and
he's very focused."

    And yet those who know Kessler invariably comment on his
more human side. Everyone has a Hallmark-card story about him.
It usually involves some very sick child and the extra effort
Kessler went to in order to make life a little better. As a
resident at Johns Hopkins, he arranged for a day at the ball
park for a child dying of cancer. He is also a dedicated family
man who makes time for baseball and bedtime stories with his two
kids.


    Kessler is one member of the '60s generation who never
lost the naive conviction that an individual can change the
world. Deceptive food labeling troubles him because it is
dishonest and unfair. And, without warning, he can break into
a mini-sermon about the FDA: "There are 8,000 wonderful people
here. They came here because they wanted to protect and promote
the public health, and my job is to let them do their job."

    While both the White House and Congress are pleased by his
performance so far, FDA watchers outside government are
skeptical that he will succeed in reversing the fortunes of his
agency. "You can deal with orange juice easily, but pretty soon
you've got to get down and deal with the real inadequacies,"
says Charles Edwards, a former FDA commissioner who chaired the
government panel that examined the agency's shortcomings. The
food industry believes Kessler is pushing too far, too quickly.
Consumer activists are waiting to see what he will do about a
range of food-safety issues, such as fish inspection, food
additives and pesticide residues. Drugmakers are still waiting
for the FDA to break the logjam of new drug applications.
Approval currently can take as long as three years, and there
is a backlog of 271 drugs waiting for FDA action. But Kessler
remains confident. "There's nothing that isn't manageable," he
says. So far, he's done a good job of making that sound
credible.