A global push for cancer warning labels on everything does a disservice to consumers and blurs risks & hazards
At the American Medical Association’s annual meeting, the second day of voting concluded with the AMA officially endorsing the policy of having cancer warnings on alcoholic beverages. According to the AMA, “Many people are unaware of the negative health risks associated with drinking alcohol, especially its link to cancer.” The AMA’s good intentions are above dispute, but putting cancer warnings on alcohol would be a tremendous misstep for public health and consumer trust.
The first and most glaring issue is that the AMA is conflating hazard and risk. Hazard is when something could negatively impact your health, where risk is the hazard multiplied by the exposure amount. Of course, there are hazards associated with alcohol consumption, but when it comes to cancer, it all comes down to exposure. Failing to make that distinction, by putting cancer warnings on alcohol, implies that no matter the volume of consumption, alcohol carries a notable cancer risk. This doesn’t withstand scrutiny.
The supposed link between cancer and alcohol and the subsequent push for policy change originated in Canada with a flawed report created by the Canadian Centre for Substance Abuse and Addiction (CCSA), funded by Health Canada (Canada’s FDA). For example, when looking at the absolute cancer risk increase for an adult male who consumes 1-2 drinks per day, the increase is a statistical whisper.
Based on the CCSA’s own data, which has seeped into the U.S. policy discussion, the absolute increase in colorectal cancer risk for a man drinking 2 drinks per day is 0.0028 percent — three one-thousandths of a percent. Add up the risks for all cancers cited — liver, esophagus, larynx, and so forth — and the total increase for our two-drink average male is 0.0099 percent.
For women, factoring in breast cancer, the figure is 0.0088 per cent. Drinking in moderation is not a public health crisis in any way, shape, or form, but putting cancer warnings on alcohol falsely implies that it is. A labeling policy that falsely equates the risks of drinking with smoking is the kind of thing that makes consumers disregard warnings altogether. There is a grand canyon of difference in the risk of these two behaviours.
And to make matters worse, the AMA even supports these same labels being put on non-alcoholic beverages to “ensure consistent transparency regarding alcohol content,” despite their 0.5% alcohol by volume. Will soy sauce and vanilla extract be next?
If the AMA really wants to inform consumers, why not require labels that say men who drink two drinks a week may actually lower their risk of ischemic heart disease — a condition that kills more Americans each year than all alcohol-related cancers combined? Why not reference the peer-reviewed studies going back to 1986 (and confirmed many times since) showing the “J-curve,” where moderate drinkers live longer than teetotalers? And while we’re at it, why not mention the social upside — that alcohol, as both anthropology and common sense tell us, helps bring people together?
If truth and context are the aim, let the labels show potential benefits as well as potential costs. They would also need to include the complexities of cardiovascular health based on lifestyle factors like exercise and diet.
The AMA cites that approximately 178,000 deaths in the U.S. each year can be linked to “excessive alcohol use, making it one of the nation’s leading preventable causes of death”. Of course, the keyword they chose is excessive, not moderate.
The good news is that nearly all Americans, 94.9 percent, either don’t drink at all or don’t fall into the excessive category as defined by the CDC. This fact, combined with the minuscule risk faced by moderate drinkers regarding cancer, is why the vast majority of alcohol related cancers occur in those who are heavy drinkers.
Public health campaigns have long helped warn against binge drinking and alcohol abuse. But slapping cancer warnings on every bottle — even non-alcoholic ones — goes too far. Blurring the line between hazard and risk doesn’t help consumers. It just breeds confusion.
David Clement is the North American Affairs Manager at the Consumer Choice Center
