Last week, the American Cancer Society surrendered to the optics police and abruptly canceled its annual Wine and Spirits Industry’s Gala. The stated reasoning was that taking millions of dollars from an industry whose products are directly linked to several major forms of cancer sends a mixed message. I find this capitulation deeply troubling. As a clinician, I am trained to look past the surface-level hypocrisy of serving a Class 1 carcinogen at a fundraiser designed to cure the exact disease it causes, and focus instead on the holistic picture: the open bar at this event was unparalleled.
We have to live in the real world. Yes, the WHO, the CDC, and the American Cancer Society itself all agree that alcohol consumption is a leading preventable risk factor for breast, colon, and liver cancer. But what the studies won’t tell you is how difficult it is to secure a truly premium silent auction item without the deep pockets of the global liquor conglomerates. Are we really supposed to fund the next breakthrough in oncology with bake sales? Sugar is inflammatory, too. By holding our philanthropists to an impossible standard of not actively selling the poison we are trying to develop an antidote for, we are tying our own hands.
Furthermore, we are entirely dismissing the educational value of these cross-industry partnerships. Where else but the Wine and Spirits Industry’s Gala can a leading oncologist stand shoulder-to-shoulder with a regional vodka distributor and discuss the exact mechanisms of cellular degradation? I have seen firsthand how these events foster innovation. Two years ago, over a sponsored tasting of a limited-reserve bourbon, a colleague and I conceptualized an entirely new approach to palliative care. Would we have reached that same breakthrough while sipping tap water in a fluorescent-lit conference room? The data strongly suggests otherwise.
I have attended this gala for the past six years. After a recent lunch with a senior executive at a major spirits conglomerate—a lunch where we had a very frank, off-the-record conversation about public health over three superb martinis—I realized how deeply these corporations care about finding a cure. They understand better than anyone that a dead patient cannot purchase a twelve-year single malt. Their commitment to keeping our shared consumer base alive long enough to develop cirrhosis is absolute.
The cancellation of this event severs a vital bridge between the problem and the solution. If we isolate the alcohol industry, they will simply take their tax-deductible philanthropy elsewhere, perhaps to an organization that does not mind a little incidental DNA damage.
We are deeply disappointed by the Society's decision to walk away from our partnership just because our core portfolio necessitates their existence.
This sets a dangerous precedent. If we demand ideological purity from our donors, the entire ecosystem of medical fundraising will collapse. Today we are banning the Wine and Spirits Industry’s Gala. Tomorrow, will we be forced to cancel the Philip Morris Memorial 5K for Lung Health? Must we return the generous grants from the Asbestos Insulation Guild? I shudder to think of a future where the American Cancer Society refuses to partner with the Industrial Microplastics Consortium simply because of a few unflattering peer-reviewed papers.
When I walk into an examination room to deliver a difficult diagnosis, I want to be able to look my patient in the eye and tell them that the biggest brands in tequila are fighting in their corner. I want to assure them that a portion of the proceeds from every premium handle of rum sold in the tri-state area is being funneled directly into managing the long-term consequences of consuming it. By severing this relationship, the American Cancer Society is essentially telling patients that they must rely on the benevolence of healthy people, rather than the immense, guilt-driven marketing budgets of multinational beverage conglomerates.
I tell my patients that stress is a major risk factor for systemic decline, and there is nothing more stressful than watching a non-profit try to balance its operating budget on the backs of individual small-dollar donors. A healthy medical charity requires a robust, symbiotic relationship with the industrial forces generating its caseload. The liquor industry was doing its part to ensure that oncology remains a vibrant, well-funded sector of the American economy.
It is my sincere hope that the American Cancer Society reconsiders this short-sighted cancellation. Until they do, the real victims are not the people suffering from alcohol-attributable illnesses. The real victims are the dedicated clinical researchers who will now be forced to network over sparkling water, entirely un-subsidized by the very people creating our job security.