St. Louis Post-Dispatch6/21/2003 Animal rights spy infiltrates Missouri labBy Todd C. Frankel Post-DispatchHATTON, Mo. — They never suspected she was a spy. She was just another research associate at theSinclair Research Center animal laboratory in thistiny town outside Columbia, working with the hundredsof dogs, cats, sheep and pigs used in experiments fordifferent companies. She was in her late 20s and certainly friendly, herformer co-workers recalled. She had straight brownhair with red highlights. She often took lunch at herdesk, eating Ramen noodles or salad. She liked to talkabout her two dogs. She once mentioned her father wasa dentist, and she had the good teeth to prove it. But like the tiny video camera she hid on her body,there was more to her than she let on. She was workingundercover for the animal activist group People forthe Ethical Treatment of Animals. Her mission:document any mistreatment of animals. For nine months, her deception — a possible violationof state law — continued. Then one day in February,she abruptly quit her job and disappeared. A month later, her work surfaced as the backbone forPETA's launch of a negative publicity campaign againstSinclair and several of its clients, including petfood giant Iams, St. Louis-based Nestle Purina Petcareand St. Louis biotech firm Isto Technologies. PETA hassplashed allegations on its Web site, called newsconferences and complained to federal regulators toend what it calls a "hidden world of cruelty," whereit claims terrified animals are confined to smallcages for dubious research. But figuring out what to believe is not so simple. Thepast several months has seen the renewal of along-standing battle between two sworn enemies: PETAand companies that use animals for research. As theFoundation for Biomedical Research's Frankie Trull,who has watched the fight for years, said, "With PETA,there is no middle ground." The campaign has made an impact. Sinclair, whichdenies there was systemic animal abuse while admittingthere were problems, has already lost clients. Fortypercent of its staff has been laid off. But GuyBouchard, who owns and runs the center, said what hashurt the most is "the highest level of betrayal" byhis former employee. "No one survives when someone comes into your house todestroy you," Bouchard said. "I've done well all mylife helping people and animals. Now this." Birth of a PETA spy PETA's undercover investigators rarely talk abouttheir exploits. The woman who infiltrated Sinclairagreed to share her experiences but did not discloseher name. Sinclair officials also declined to nameher. Her identity and her role have been independentlyverified by the Post-Dispatch. Her journey into radical activism was gradual, shesaid. It began when she was a teenager growing up nearthe East Coast. She started using only so-calledcruelty free beauty products, those which haven't beentested on animals. In college, she became avegetarian. A few years later, in 2002, she wasworking with primates at an animal sanctuary when shedecided to take a job with PETA. "I'm just a normal person who loves animals who feltthey weren't doing enough," she said during a recentphone interview. She quickly found her niche. She was uncomfortabletaking the normal route of helping with PETA's vocalprotests. She'd been there only two months but wantedto go undercover. Mary Beth Sweetland said she tried to talk her out ofit. Sweetland is PETA's director of research andinvestigations. She is the handler for the group'sundercover agents and knows how tough and lonely theassignments can be. She trains the spies on how to use the recordingequipment, how to conceal it, how to do their job andhopefully not break the law. She teaches them to bepatient and thorough. She asks the more experiencedinvestigators to give advice to the new charges. Shestays in almost daily contact with her team, what shecalls "my little army of the kind." Sweetland declined to give the exact number ofundercover agents employed by PETA. But her departmenthad a nearly $3 million annual budget last year,according to the nonprofit group's filings with theIRS. PETA is best known for its shocking antics andbillboards. Last November, members jumped on stage atthe Victoria's Secret fashion show in New York City toprotest the wearing of fur. The group is currentlygoing after Kentucky Fried Chicken with "KFC Cruelty"billboards in several cities. And PETA attracted lotsof attention — and outrage — with ads based on thepopular "Got Milk?" campaign suggesting, withoutevidence, that former New York Mayor Rudolph Giulianigot prostate cancer by drinking milk. The group, based in Norfolk, Va., thirsts forattention. By that measure, it is a success. It nowhas 750,000 supporters who donated nearly $17 millionto its operations last year. Celebrities have joinedits cause. This is a group with a self-describedradical agenda, summed up by its mission statement:"Animals are not ours to eat, wear, experiment on oruse for entertainment." Despite the attention paid to its inventive marketing,the real change sought by PETA comes from itsundercover work. "We are the heart and soul of thisorganization," Sweetland said. In just the past three years, the missions have led tothe prosecution of two men who were filmed beatinghogs on a hog farm and a federal inquiry intomistreatment of laboratory mice and rats at theUniversity of North Carolina. PETA is achieving broader changes, too. Last year, itconvinced the Safeway supermarket chain to force itsmeat suppliers to adopt more humane treatment ofanimals raised for slaughter. Recently, McDonald'sbowed to PETA pressure and agreed not to buy chickenfrom farmers who "de-beak" birds or keep them in cagessmaller than 72 square inches. Now, they're targeting the use of laboratory animals. Walking in the door Fresh off training, the young spy on PETA's payrollsaid she headed out to meet with a veteran PETAinvestigator in Kansas City. They spent a week holedup in a hotel there, where the veteran sharedpointers. One day they went to the circus and werepredictably upset. "Oh, the things people make animals do," the spyrecalled. "It's horrific." She then drove to Springfield and began job-hunting inearnest. She looked online, in newspapers and in thephone book. No luck. She punched up a governmentposting of registered research facilities, picked aname at random and called the number. It was Sinclair Research Center. They asked her to send her résumé. Everything on itwas true, even her name, she said. Two days later, shewas called for an interview. They liked her but wantedsomeone who had experience with computer spreadsheets.She ran out and bought books on how to use thesoftware. As with all her other expenses, PETA pickedup the tab. She went back two weeks later and showedoff her new skills. Bouchard, who runs the center, was impressed. "It'sthe type of person you look for," he said. She started her new job on May 6, 2002. Sinclair's history Sinclair Research Center is one of 35 animal researchlabs in Missouri, including seven in St. Louis, and 41in Illinois that are certified by the U.S. Departmentof Agriculture. Sinclair is a collection of white metal-framebuildings with green trim on 200 acres surrounded byfarmland in Callaway County. The construction may besimple, but the facility uses state-of-the-art energyrecovery and ventilation systems. Many of the buildings are shaped like double-longtrailers and contain two animal rooms separated by aprocedure area. The animal rooms feature metal cagesstacked two-high with a wide aisle down the middle.One room might be full of black Yucatan pigs for ahuman cardiovascular drug trial. Another might hold adozen tri-colored beagles eating a new pet foodformula. Bouchard's office is at the end of a second-floorhallway inside the center's only two-story building.The sound of barking dogs filters up from an animalroom below. The air is stuffy with the smell ofanimals. "The people we have are all animal lovers," Bouchardsaid during a recent visit. "You don't get intoresearch to get rich. You get into research becauseyou love animals." Bouchard took over the Sinclair operation from theUniversity of Missouri at Columbia in 1994. For almost30 years, the school ran the facility at a differentlocation in Columbia, where it had done groundbreakingwork in the use of animals to track human diseases. Bouchard was the attending veterinarian at Sinclairwhen the school considered closing it. Instead, hetook the center private. The new Sinclair Research Center started out with oneclient. By the time the spy walked in the front door,the center had many. And the transfer of operationsfrom the Columbia site to Callaway County was nearlycomplete. Bouchard, 40, is a big man with a boyish mop of lightbrown hair. He speaks with a thick French accent, alegacy of growing up on a farm in Rougemont, Canada,outside Montreal. His father was a police officer butalso kept livestock. Much of the work fell to his twosons. Before he was 4, Bouchard was helping his olderbrother feed 5,000 turkeys a day. He also had a petpig. Bouchard earned his doctorate of veterinary medicinein Montreal, before coming in 1990 to the Universityof Missouri for graduate studies in animalreproduction. A contract lab Sinclair is a contract animal laboratory. Just asother sectors have increasingly turned to outsourcing,companies that need to conduct animal tests sometimesuse outside labs. A common saying among workers at Sinclair is that "wemay not have the right to test on animals, but we dohave the need." Almost all research being done on breakthrough drugsto treat diseases like cancer, AIDS and Alzheimer'sdisease requires the use of lab animals, said Trull,president of the Foundation for Biomedical Research,an industry group in Washington representing medicalinstitutions and companies that use lab animals. Thefederal government also mandates animal tests for manyproducts that are to be used on humans. More than 1.1 million animals were used in researchnationwide in 2002, according to the USDA. About 60percent were rabbits, guinea pigs and hamsters, withthe rest made up of everything from dogs to primatesto pigs. The typical dog, cat or lamb at Sinclair is purchasedfrom a top-grade, regulated breeder, Bouchard said.Most animals spend their entire lives in the lab,going on and off different experiments, year afteryear. In animal research labs, the law of the land is thefederal Animal Welfare Act. It sets up minimumstandards of care and treatment. They includerequiring that dogs have the chance to exercise andthat all animals are given anesthesia orpain-relieving medication to minimize pain anddistress. USDA inspectors make surprise visits to the facilitieseach year. According to the USDA, Sinclair has norecord of wrongdoing. PETA sees its undercover actions as helping thegovernment do its job, Sweetland said. The USDA visitsfor a day, while the animal rights group stays formonths. "The USDA doesn't have the motivation wehave," she said. The tapes During the spy's tenure, there were several ongoingstudies: Iams contracted with Sinclair for tests usingmixed-breed dogs to evaluate the nutrition of dogfood. Nestle Purina Petcare was running cat litterstudies. Pet food studies also were conducted for MenuFoods, a Canadian private label pet food maker with aplant in Kansas. Sheep from Isto Technologies wereinvolved in studies of a new lab technique to growcartilage for humans. The spy shot hours of videotape inside Sinclair. Everynight, she'd go home to the apartment she rented inColumbia, watch the day's video and fill out adetailed report, which was e-mailed back to PETAheadquarters. The videotape — mostly of Iams, Menu Foods and Istostudy-related animals — was whittled down to snippetsof riveting scenes: * A beagle clawing maniacally at the metal bars of itscage; a dog circling wildly in its cage, anothercowering quietly in back; and a meowing cat pacingback and forth inside its cage. PETA claims these aresigns of distressed and bored animals. * A group of at least 10 beagles, slowly awakeningfrom anesthesia, lined up on the floor of an exam roomafter having their bone density measured by an X-raydensitometer. PETA claims such unsterile conditionsare unsafe. Bouchard said that the floor was clean and thatbeagles were placed close together to conserve bodyheat. * A dog, asleep from anesthesia, strapped on its backduring an X-ray. "When the dog is done, make surethey're breathing," an off-camera worker says, movinghis hand over the prone animal's stomach. "When yousee they've stopped breathing, give them (this)," theworker says, pantomiming a slap at the dog. * A pig in distress, convulsing on its side in a cage.A worker tells the spy that the pig almost died,perhaps from the position of a heart catheter, butthey managed to resuscitate the animal. * Employees discussing their work with sheep, sayingthat surgeries were rushed and that there wereproblems with the medical equipment. * Dogs walking gingerly on metal-slotted cage floors,the bars too narrow for their paws. In one scene, abeagle has its leg stuck in the slotted bottom. Thedog is obviously in pain and can't move. Another dogis later shown after being rescued from having its legcaught. As the animal holds its left hind leg off theground because of the pain, the camera zooms in on asevere red and green wound. Bouchard admits there were problems with the cagedesign, which has a slotted floor to collect animalfecal samples. But he said the problems were isolated.And any video of caged animals, no matter theircondition, plays on the emotions of the public, hesaid. "The bottom line is the animals had excellentveterinary care," Bouchard said. Another problem, Bouchard and Iams claim, is that thespy was put in charge of implementing an Iamsenrichment program — which should have providedexactly the type of care PETA criticizes them for notgiving. They allege that the spy stalled efforts toimprove the life of the dogs in order to supplyherself with dramatic video. "She came and all of asudden, we have more (problems) than we have in fiveyears," Bouchard said. The spy denied such accusations. Putting on the pressure The spy left her job on Feb. 19. She'd collectedenough evidence. It was time to go public. On March 25, PETA held a news conference in Dayton,Ohio, home to Iams, where the group introduced its newcampaign. They handed out press packets with stickersreading "Iams kills cats & dogs in 'nutritionalexperiments.'" While the link between Iams studies and dead animalsappears weak — dogs may have died while on the study,but the link between their deaths and the research isnot there — the PETA public relations machine madefull use of it. Iams said it had never before been targeted so heavilyby PETA. And PETA hasn't relented. The dominant imageon its Web site is the message "PETA to 'Pet' FoodIndustry: Lay Off the Animals," which links to morearticles and pictures featuring purportedly mistreatedanimals. There is growing concern within the pet food industrythat this is just the start of a broader campaign,said Iams spokesman Bryan Brown. "The signals are there that what they've done in thefast food industry," Brown said, referring to thechanges at McDonald's, "they're planning for us." The day after the news conference, a team from Iamsvisited Sinclair for a surprise inspection. They foundproblems with the air temperature and ventilation inthe cage rooms, a lack of resting boards for the dogsand inadequate socialization for the animals, Brownsaid. These items posed no serious health risks, Brown said,"but there were some gaps in following the Iamsresearch policy." Iams canceled its contract with Sinclair the next day.PETA's tactics also were successful in getting Iams toconduct inspections at all of the company's contractresearch labs and to adopt tougher lab requirements.Iams said it found no problems at its otherfacilities. Isto Technologies said in a statement that its work atSinclair is completed, but the company "is reviewingthe allegations made and takes this matter seriously."But Purina Petcare spokesman Keith Schopp said thecompany feels unfairly swept up by PETA's allegationsbecause officials have seen no evidence that animalsin its studies were mistreated. PETA research associate Peter Woods said Purina, whichdid not respond to PETA's letter alerting the companyto problems at Sinclair, "should be very concernedabout the people they do business with." "Effective" tactics While PETA's tactics are applauded in some circles,companies and institutions have tried unsuccessfullyfor years to stop these undercover operations, saidTrull with the Foundation for Biomedical Research. Theissue is addressed at professional conferences,warnings and advice are provided, but three monthslater they hear about another spy, she said. Trullblamed researchers for thinking that it just couldn'thappen to them. PETA has intimidated researchers who use lab animals,even driven some from the field, she said. And itappears the animal rights activists are winning thepublic relations battle, too, despite the medicaladvances made possible by animal testing, she said. "You've got to give them credit for being as effectiveas they've been," Trull conceded. One factor in PETA's recent success is the group'sincreasing willingness to set aside its long-term goalof abolishing all animal testing in favor of improvingthe treatment of lab animals in the meantime. "We hate it all," Sweetland said of animal testing,"but we're also very pragmatic." What the future holds PETA recently fired off a 104-page complaint to theUSDA, alleging dozens of instances of failure toprovide adequate care for animals at Sinclair. Theagency is reviewing the claims, a spokesman said. Bouchard said he's considering legal action againstPETA for its use of an undercover investigator. Hepointed to a little-known state law that makes itillegal to access "an animal facility by falsepretense for the purpose of performing acts notauthorized by the facility." This year, some legislators tried to add to the law bymaking it illegal to photograph "any aspect of ananimal facility." That measure, derided by otherlawmakers as the "puppy mill protection act," failed. Bouchard plans to keep operating Sinclair and woo backsome of his lost clients. He has installed bettercages with new flooring for dogs so they won't gettheir feet caught. He's ordered new cat cages,increasing their size to 9 square feet. But Bouchard said the one thing he's lost that can'tbe regained is trust. He is suspicious of everyonenow. He is dreading when the time comes to hire a newemployee, fearful that it will be another undercoverinvestigator. The spy said she is sorry if her former co-workerswere hurt by her actions. But for her, the deceit wasnecessary. "How else is there to know what goes onbehind closed doors?" she asked. Going undercover "isthe only way." Sweetland, who guided the young spy, said PETA willkeep fighting. "They will never succeed in keeping us out of thelabs," Sweetland said. "We will always be doing this."Now, the spy who made it inside Sinclair is back onthe road, traveling somewhere in the South. She'slooking to get behind closed doors once again. She's ready for her next mission.
