Part IThe first time I met the old man was during my residency interviews. He was spry and looked younger than his age, and why not? He was at the top of his game: head of a department, boatloads of research funding, one of the most well-known psychiatrists around. Another psychiatry department chair who had interviewed me previously hinted that the old man was quite a businessman and enjoyed cozy relations with industry.
As he asked me his first question, the old man practically winked: "So, are you single, in a relationship, or married, or what?" That was my first hint that he might not be the most ethically-inclined individual. I had been told by my medical school before interview season that such personal questions were definitely off limits. Yet he made his greeting seem like the most natural and friendly thing in the world.
Part IIThe old man was fuming. He was supposed to be giving a talk on depression treatment, but what seemed to preoccupy his mind was a just-published study from Irving Kirsch suggesting that antidepressants were not better than placebo for mild to moderate depression. Our speaker seemed deeply and personally offended. After many words assailing Kirsch's motives, he concluded: "Even if it's no better than placebo, it doesn't mean we shouldn't treat the patient!" Almost sounded like advice from Allen Frances, but twisted.
Part IIIBy random chance, I saw the old man again recently, when I was going out to dinner in the city where he lives. There he was, walking down the sidewalk with his wife, right past where I had just parked my car. He was wearing a sweatshirt with the name of his university employer on it. I'd never seen him out of a suit before. I thought he seemed older, frumpier, humbled. Or perhaps that was just my wishful thinking?
A lot has happened since the last time I saw him. He was no longer the department chair, replaced by someone known for work related to ethics. I briefly considered going up to him and saying something, but what? "Thank you for being an example of what not to aspire to?" Or, "That's a very plain-looking sweatshirt; did all your industry funding dry up?" Poor sportsmanship and too passive-aggressive. I briefly imagined following him down the sidewalk, yelling: "Shame, shame, shame!" But he probably would've mistaken me for a Scientologist or something.