All the symbols of October have come rolling out: pumpkin spice lattes, Ugg boots, midterms, and, ah, yes…the ubiquitous pink-washing of all things commercial.
Pink ribbons adorn many items, and a pink version of just about anything can be purchased during this month. “Support the cause! Buy __________ and we’ll donate to the Pink Race For The Cure Foundation to Support Everything Breast Cancer Related! Save the Ta-tas!”
Now, I am a fan of women, an advocate for women’s health. I, like most Americans, know at least two people personally who have been affected by breast cancer. But with all this continued support every year, and the presumably vast sums of money being poured into breast cancer research, why aren’t we seeing better outcomes? Hasn’t all of this pink stuff helped?
According to the originator of this pink movement, the Susan G. Komen organization, it has. The organization was founded in 1982. Since then the 5-year relative survival rate has increased from roughly 75 percent to around 91 percent in 2007, according to seer.cancer.gov.
On komen.org, they claim there is now a 99 percent 5-year relative survival rate for early stage breast cancer detection. And these are good things and great news for anyone diagnosed.
There’s a catch, though. The rate of women diagnosed with breast cancer since 1982 has risen. From 1982 to 2001, the number of cases diagnosed per 100,000 women of all races went from 106.5 to 138.8. The numbers then dipped a bit, but have remained around 130 from 2003-2012, the last year data is available.
So, although women have a better chance of surviving once diagnosed, what good is that when diagnosis rates have increased? Is anyone looking into what causes breast cancer in the first place?
The Susan G. Komen organization claims that 83 cents of every dollar raised goes to support its mission. It turns out, though, that the word “mission” is a large umbrella underneath which many things can be counted that the consumer buying pink items may not realize.
The majority of that number, 38 percent of their total revenue, in fact, goes to “education.” Education could also be considered marketing. It could be the pamphlets that you see everywhere telling you about the foundation, or it could be direct educational material about breast cancer.
Either way, whatever they take it to mean, the majority of the charitable donations that everyone thinks they’re making this time of year are not going to research.
In fact, while the organization does aid in the cost of screenings for breast cancer and in actual treatment, which are good things, only 18 percent of all revenue taken in by the Susan G. Komen organization goes to research.
That word ”research” is also a broad term covering several things: new treatments (new pharmaceutical medications to sell back to the patients), different types of breast cancer, genetic factors and, of course, possible causes and prevention.
I’m not saying that the Komen organization has not aided in making people aware of breast cancer and its effects on individuals and families. I’m not saying that they haven’t helped bring money and a larger focus from the federal government to breast cancer research. I’m not saying they haven’t helped more women than ever before fight the disease and continue to live their lives after treatment. They have.
But shouldn’t an organization that claims to strive incessantly for a cure focus more of its dollars on research that would discover the cause in the first place? If we don’t know precisely what causes cancer of any kind, how will we ever pinpoint the proper antidote?
This is what makes me see red when I see something pink: it’s not necessary.
Stores are selling items, items that must be manufactured, in order to donate a portion of the profits to the organization. From there, a small portion of that already, ahem, small portion, will find its way to research breast cancer.
It’s flat out not enough.
Manufacturing produces pollution, plain and simple. Pollution is generally considered to have carcinogenic factors, depending on what is actually being produced.
So, say, even though I already have three reusable water bottles to take to the gym, I buy a fourth pink one for $12, because I want to support the cause and make others aware that I have.
But when creating that fourth water bottle that I didn’t need produces pollution, and only pennies of that $12 finds its way to research purposes, how good can I really allow myself to feel about my purchase?
I think I’ll just skip the middle-pink-woman and send that $12 straight to research myself, thank you very much. I encourage you to do the same.
Data quoted in this article can be found at ww5.komen.org.
Moriah Parrish is a staunch feminist and a junior majoring biology. She can be reached for questions, comments or general debating fun at parrishm@mail.usf.edu.
