The Avian Flu and the End of the Wor Terry Wuerz, The Manitoban (University of Manitoba) WINNIPEG (CUP)—Between 1918 and 1919, 60 mil- lion people died from the flu. One fifth of the world’s population was infected, and some towns were nearly annihilated. More US soldiers died from this epidemic than during World War I. Indeed, the so-called “Spanish flu” is often thought to be one of the reasons leading to the end of the Great War. Today, history’s lesson of the Spanish flu is making media headlines with alarming regularity. This time, the world is closely watching the spread of a new, horrific disease. The Avian flu, as it is called, has affected just over 100 humans and garnered widespread attention from the media due to its perceived potential to become a global pandemic, the proportions of which we have only witnessed once during the last 100 years. Adding to the credibility of the parallels being drawn between the Spanish flu and the Avian flu, it is believed that the 1918 influenza virus originated from pigs. It is not difficult to understand why our current level of panic is so high: images of post-pandemic devasta- tion are incredibly vivid, exemplified by such fictional works as the movie 28 Days Later and the Steven King novel and miniseries The Stand. The idea of such a large-scale event fascinates even as it frightens. Yet, if we are to be seriously stressed out about this possibility, it bears asking: Is the threat to humanity so real? How great is the possibility of a seri- ous human pandemic with this disease? To understand, we must first know a few things about the flu. This is not an unfamiliar disease: unlike the outbreak of SARS just over two years ago, much is known in the medical community about the influenza virus. Flu outbreaks occur, predictably, every single year, usually in the winter. It is one of the most common infections known to humankind. The reason our bodies are unable to build up a proper immunity to the virus after having previously been infected is the same reason that researchers have been unable to come up with a vaccine that would provide good immunity against all strains of influenza: the flu virus is apt to mutate. Most of the time, the mutations of the virus from year to year are quite predictable if you have a large enough computer. These predictions form the basis for the vaccine, which must be reformulated every year to cover the new versions of the virus that surface. These mutations are small in nature, but can amount to significant change in the virus over the years, in a meandering sort of way. Thus, this mutation event has been termed genetic drift. The other way that the influenza virus mutates is entirely unpredictable and more than a little bit specula- tive. It is called genetic shift: imagine switching your 1986 Toyota Camry from drive to reverse while doing 40 in the McDonald’s parking lot. This type of muta- tion accounts for drastic, sudden mutations in the influenza virus. Genetic shift would explain a strain of virus that was previously only infectious for pigs or chickens becoming a threat to humans. It is thought that one way this might happen is for influenza viruses that commonly affect two different species to mix, resulting in a new, previously unseen, and drastically different virus. This would be possible if, for example, the feces of infected chickens somehow ended up in the feeding stock of infected pigs. According to the World Health Organization, in order for a pandemic to occur in humans, the infectious agent in question must be easily transmittable between humans. The current strain of influenza virus wreaking havoc on birds in Southeast Asia and now Eastern Europe (classified H5N1) has not transmitted easily from human to human. And poultry-to-human infec- tions have tended to result from close contact with the birds. Certainly, this strain of the virus is of significant health concern to anyone spending significant time with chickens and other affected poultry. For the rest of us, “You are Special” And so are your classified ads. Please send them to me. IPIl put on my sweater, and my special shoes, ride my train to classified land, and put them in the Other Press for free... if you are a student that is. Can you Say free ads? I knew you could. Submit your ads to othereditor@yahoo.ca however, the biggest affect it will have on our lives is most likely to be the skyrocketing cost of chicken, as millions are culled in response to confirmed or suspect- ed infection. The worry that has been expressed, but not explained, so many times in the past few weeks of media frenzy is that genetic shift will cause the H5N1 influenza virus to become communicable between humans. This would be very dangerous, as it has already been demonstrated that the H5N1 strain is very danger- ous to humans when they are infected. Among con- firmed human cases, over 50 percent have been fatal. Yet before we start writing out our last words and throwing out phone bills, it is worth noting a few things. First, the type of mutation being considered here, while theoretically possible, nearly reaches science-fic- tional improbability. Historical examples of such a mutation are very rare. Furthermore, even if the virus undergoes such an uncommon mutation and becomes infectious between humans, there is no reason to believe that it will demon- strate the same level of infectivity seen between chick- ens; that is mere speculation. Lastly, due to the advent of effective antiretroviral drugs against influenza, even a worst case scenario of the sort seen in 1918 would not be as devastating to the world today. Sure, the possibility exists of a radical gene shift occurring in the H5N1 influenza virus that drastically increases its human-to-human transmissibility but main- tains its virulence and human mortality potential theo- retically. But perhaps our resources would be better spent | safeguarding the human race against devastating events already taking place. Before we reach full panic over bird flu, let’s deal with such catastrophic issues as pover- ty, HIV/AIDS, or starvation, to name just a few.