Methodology – artdiamondblog.com

Innovative Research Is More Likely to Come from Small Teams

The incentives and constraints of doing research in medicine make the process very expensive, which leads it increasingly be a large group activity.
The article below suggests that large group research tends to be less innovative. We should reduce the costs by reducing regulations, including the mandate that no drug can be sold without an F.D.A.-approved Phase 3 clinical trial to prove efficacy.

(p. D3) In the largest analysis of the issue thus far, investigators have found that the smaller the research team working on a problem, the more likely it was to generate innovative solutions. . . .

The new research, published on Wednesday [Feb. 13, 2019] in the journal Nature, is the latest contribution from an emerging branch of work known as the science of science — the study of how, when and through whom knowledge advances.

. . .

In the study, a trio of investigators led by James A. Evans, a sociologist at the University of Chicago, mined selections from three vast databases: . . .

. . .

When the team correlated this disruption rating to the size of the group responsible for the project or paper, they found a clear pattern: smaller groups were more likely to produce novel findings than larger ones. Those novel contributions usually took a year or so to catch on, after which larger research teams did the work of consolidating the ideas and solidifying the evidence.

“You might ask what is large, and what is small,” said Dr. Evans. “Well, the answer is that this relationship holds no matter where you cut the number: between one person and two, between ten and twenty, between 25 and 26.”

. . .

Psychologists have found that people working in larger groups tend to generate fewer ideas than when they work in smaller groups, or when working alone, and become less receptive to ideas from outside.

. . .

The new study suggests that a different kind of funding approach may be needed, one that takes more risk and spends the time and money to support promising individuals and small groups, Dr. Evans said.

“Think of it like venture capitalists do,” he said. “They expect a 5 percent success rate, and they try to minimize the correlation between the business they fund. They have a portfolio, one that gives them a higher risk-tolerance level, and also higher payoffs.”

For the full story see:

Benedict Carey. “Is Bigger Better? Not in This Case.” The New York Times (Tuesday, February 19, 2019 [sic]): D3.

(Note: ellipses, and bracketed date, added.)

(Note: the online version of the story has the date Feb. 13, 2019 [sic], and has the title “Can Big Science Be Too Big?.”)

The academic article co-authored by Evans is:

Wu, Lingfei, Dashun Wang, and James A. Evans. “Large Teams Develop and Small Teams Disrupt Science and Technology.” Nature 566, no. 7744 (Feb. 2019): 378-82.

Allow Those with Skin in the Game to Help Find Quicker Cures

The New York Times devoted more than two and half full pages to the article that I quote from below. Very very few articles receive that much space. The story is meant to inspire and it does. Linde has a terrible genetic disease, as did her mother and grandmother, as do her two sisters, and as might her two daughters. She is uncredentialled, but determined. She reads scientific articles, gives talks at scientific meetings, creates a foundation to raise funds, and with her sisters gave samples from her skin to create cell lines that can be used for research to find a cure. Linde, both literally and figuratively, has skin in the game.

In the article, victims of the disease wish that there were more clinical trials to test more possible cures. If the price of clinical trials were lower, more of them would be supplied. One way to reduce the price would be for the F.D.A. to only mandate testing for safety, not to mandate testing for efficacy. After all, it was concerns over the safety, not the efficacy, of thalidomide, that first accelerated the F.D.A.’s clinical trial mandates. Testing only for safety (Phase 1 and Phase 2 clinical trials), would hugely reduce the price, resulting ultimately in more and quicker cures.

(p. A1) Linde Jacobs paced back and forth across her bedroom, eyeing the open laptop on the dresser and willing the doctor to appear. Her husband was dropping off their older daughter at school. Their younger daughter was downstairs, occupied by a screen. Linde wanted to be alone when she learned whether she carried the family curse.

Linde’s mother, Allison, had died just four weeks before, after a mutant gene gradually laid waste to her brain. In her 50s, Allison transformed from a joyful family ringleader into an impulsive, deceptive pariah. She drove like a maniac on cul-de-sacs. She pinched strangers, shoplifted craft supplies and stole money from her daughter.

Now, on this morning in September 2021, Linde would find out if she had inherited the same vile genetic mutation.

. . .

The doctor finally popped up on the computer. Wasting no time on pleasantries, she shared her screen and zoomed in on one line of laboratory paperwork: POSITIVE.

. . .

Soon, Linde’s husband, Taylor, pulled into the garage and opened the car door. He could hear her sobbing.

. . .

Linde looked at Taylor. “I don’t want you to feel stuck with me,” she said.

(p. A12) Leaving had never crossed his mind. Allison’s miserable experience, he told Linde, did not have to be hers. “You have all this time,” he said. “Do something about it.”

Even as they spoke, scientists were working on projects that might one day help her. Some had discovered how to cure grave conditions with gene editing. Others were tinkering with patients’ skin cells to test experimental drugs. And pharmaceutical companies were developing new Alzheimer’s therapies, one of which happened to target the rare defect in Linde’s brain.

Linde didn’t know any of that yet. But she decided to take Taylor’s advice. She would use the time she had, somehow, to find influential scientists and make them care about what was happening to her — and what might happen to her girls.

Linde and Taylor scoured the internet for any scrap of hope about treating frontotemporal dementia, or FTD. There was little to read.

Taylor remembered a Netflix documentary about a new way to edit genes. The method, called CRISPR, had cured some children with sickle cell disease. He searched “FTD treatment CRISPR” and found the website of Dr. Claire Clelland, a neurologist at the University of California, San Francisco. She had collected skin cells from patients with FTD, reprogrammed them into neurons and tried to edit the faulty genetic code within.

The website listed a phone number. Taylor called and left a message — a Hail Mary, he figured.

Within a day, Dr. Clelland responded by email. “Happy to help if I can,” she wrote.

. . .

(p. A13) “Could I ask a question?” one young scientist said. How much risk, she wondered, was Linde comfortable taking on an experimental treatment? Editing genes with CRISPR was new, after all, and could come with serious side effects.

“Sign me up, patient zero, sounds good,” Linde said.

“What choice do I have,” she added, “if I don’t want the same future for myself as my mom had, and her mom?”

When she wasn’t working or coaching her daughter’s soccer team, Linde threw herself into the scientific research on MAPT — a niche but growing subfield. The gene provides the instructions for cells to make tau, a protein in the brain.

One day she came across news of a project investigating how tau can go awry. She wrote to the scientist leading the work, Dr. Kenneth Kosik of the University of California, Santa Barbara, describing her family and asking to talk.

Dr. Kosik was sitting in his home office when her note landed in his inbox. “It was the second time in my life that I realized, I’ve got to get back to this person in, like, a nanosecond,” he recalled.

. . .

Dr. Kosik told Linde that an elite group of researchers, known as the Tau Consortium, would gather in Boston in a few months for its annual meeting. Dr. Clelland would be there, as would other “Michael Jordans” in the field. We should try to get you there, he said, so the scientists can be reminded of the human toll of tau-related diseases.

A few weeks later, Linde received an invitation to be the keynote speaker. Jenica and Ashlyn could come, too.

She texted her sisters, “Holy shit.”

One morning in Boston in June 2023, Linde and her sisters got all dolled up, only to arrive in a grand hotel ballroom filled with 100 scientists in oxfords and sneakers.

Dr. Kosik introduced Linde to the members of the Tau Consortium. Too nervous to look anyone in the eye, she stared at a screen showing her slides and read from her prepared remarks.

“You will notice the lack of credentials following my name,” she began. But she said her life had brought her other titles: Caregiver. Jail-Bailer. Carrier. She was the heartbeat, she said, of the cells they studied.

. . .

After the Boston talk, Linde received a flurry of invitations to tell her story. She was interviewed on YouTube by Emma Heming Willis, the wife of the actor Bruce Willis, the most famous person known to have frontotemporal dementia. She came face to face with monkeys that carried MAPT mutations in Madison, Wis. And though she detested the crowds and grime of big cities, she flew to places like Philadelphia and Washington, D.C., to at-(p. A14)tend scientific meetings.

Linde, who by then had moved to River Falls, Wis., always returned home exhausted. But the trips were also fortifying. Learning about the latest research quelled her anxiety — and her husband’s. . . .

During her travels, Linde met other families with MAPT mutations. They were all frustrated by the lack of clinical trials for their genetic glitch, especially because several promising treatments were in the pipeline for other dementia genes. Linde and the others started a global survey of people with MAPT mutations. If an opportunity came along for a clinical trial, they would make it as easy as possible for scientists to find volunteers.

. . .

A few months later, Linde and the group started a nonprofit, called Cure MAPT FTD. They have since found more than 500 people with confirmed or possible MAPT mutations in 10 countries, all of whom have expressed interest in participating in future clinical trials.

In March of this year, Linde got an astonishing offer from Dr. Clelland. Along with collaborators at Washington University and the Neural Stem Cell Institute in New York, she wanted to collect skin cells from Linde and her sisters and turn them into clusters that divide infinitely, known as cell “lines.”

“We propose to make new lines that can be shared with academics and also with industry so that people can do drug screening” and CRISPR projects, Dr. Clelland wrote.

. . .

Based on what happened to Allison and Bev, Linde figures she has at least 10 more years before she starts showing symptoms. But there’s no guarantee; some MAPT carriers begin to change in their 20s. Whenever Linde tells a joke a little too loudly, or has a dulled emotional response to a dramatic event, she worries: Is this tau?

That anxious metronome never shuts off. It compels her to fill any moment of downtime reading the latest study or sending another email. She has spent thousands of dollars and hundreds of unpaid hours on travel. But sometimes, like when she finds herself alone in a hotel room, FaceTiming her daughter about a rough day at school, she questions whether these scientific pursuits are really the best way to run out the clock.

. . .

Dr. Clelland said designing a CRISPR molecule that could precisely excise the MAPT mutation from a cell’s genome was not the hard part. The major unsolved challenge is delivering those molecular scissors into the brain. Still, she and her colleagues at U.C.S.F. have set an ambitious goal of getting MAPT therapy into clinical trials within four years.

For the full story see:

Virginia Hughes. “A Mother’s Race to Beat a Genetic Time Bomb.” The New York Times (Wednesday, December 25, 2024): A1 & A12-A14.

(Note: ellipses added.)

(Note: the online version of the story was updated Jan. 2, 2025, and has the title “Fighting to Avoid Her Mother’s Fate, for Her Daughters’ Sake.” I have omitted a few subhead titles that appear in both the online and print versions.)

In Europe Citizens Self-Medicated with Coca Plant Before Official Use in Hospital

Bones from the 1600s in a hospital crypt reveal the use of coca leaves, even though the records from the hospital do not record any use of coca leaves. The records do indicate the early use of derivatives of the opium poppy plant, so if coca leaves were being officially used, you would expect that would also be in the records. One of the researchers, Cristina Cattaneo, concludes that the coca plant was not an official medicine but was “something lurking among the population” (as quoted in Nazaryan 2024, p. D3).

The findings of Giordano are summarized in:

Alexander Nazaryan. “Cocaine Use in Europe Is Dated to the 1600s.” The New York Times (Tues., September 17, 2024): D3.

(Note: the online version of the Steve Lohr article was updated Sept. 13, 2024, and has the title “Europeans Used Cocaine Much Earlier Than Previously Thought, Study Finds.”)

The academic paper co-authored by Cattaneo is:

Giordano, Gaia, Mirko Mattia, Lucie Biehler‐Gomez, Michele Boracchi, Alessandro Porro, Francesco Sardanelli, Fabrizio Slavazzi, Paolo Maria Galimberti, Domenico Di Candia, and Cristina Cattaneo. “Forensic Toxicology Backdates the Use of Coca Plant (Erythroxylum Spp.) in Europe to the Early 1600s.” Journal of Archaeological Science 170 (Oct. 2024): 106040.

An earlier related academic paper, on evidence of early official use of derivatives of the opium poppy, is:

Giordano, Gaia, Mirko Mattia, Lucie Biehler-Gomez, Michele Boracchi, Stefania Tritella, Emanuela Maderna, Alessandro Porro, Massimiliano Marco Corsi Romanelli, Antonia Francesca Franchini, Paolo Maria Galimberti, Fabrizio Slavazzi, Francesco Sardanelli, Domenico Di Candia, and Cristina Cattaneo. “Papaver Somniferum in Seventeenth Century (Italy): Archaeotoxicological Study on Brain and Bone Samples in Patients from a Hospital in Milan.” Scientific Reports 13, no. 1 (2023): 3390.

Mainstream Approach to Alzheimer’s Is Built on Doctored Data

Widespread fraud among highly credentialled, and richly financed, medical researchers results in fewer and slower cures. Many millions of dollars are required to bring a major drug to market, much of it due to the hyper-costly and mandated Phase 3 randomized double-blind clinical trials. There are more good ideas than can received such financing. The intense competition creates a temptation to cut various corners, as the book review quoted below emphasizes.

Aaron Rothstein, the reviewer of Piller’s Doctored book, emphasizes the sad revelation of widespread fraud. But in an earlier entry on this blog, I quoted an essay of Piller’s that suggests that Piller also has something substantive to say about how to cure Alzheimer’s. The current system is broken, vastly reducing the diversity of approaches to curing important diseases like Alzheimer’s. Piller suggests that the ruling clique among Alzheimer’s researchers may in effect be silencing other approaches that could bring us a better faster cure.

Rothstein downplays this substantive aspect of Piller’s book. (It probably reflects too much cynicism on my part to wonder how close Rothstein himself is to the ruling clique?)

I look forward to reading Piller’s book, both for what it has to say about widespread fraud and for what it has to say about Alzheimer’s. Doctored is scheduled for release in a few days, on February 4, 2025.

(p. C9) In 2023 my colleagues and I were preparing to enroll patients in a clinical trial of a new drug that promised to mitigate brain damage in stroke victims. The National Institutes of Health, a governmental organization that funds billions of dollars of research every year, had committed $30 million to the trial. The drug was, in part, the brainchild of Berislav Zlokovic, a neuroscientist at the University of Southern California.

Then, suddenly, the NIH paused the trial. Charles Piller, an investigative journalist for Science magazine, had published an article alleging that multiple papers from Dr. Zlokovic, including many supporting the new drug, contained seemingly altered data. Though Dr. Zlokovic disputed some of the concerns, this news stunned us. We might have put patients at risk, while offering groundless hope. A fraud of the sort Mr. Piller described would violate the basic ethics of clinical trials and overturn the presumption of trust on which the practice of medicine relies.

I thought of this episode often as I read Mr. Piller’s “Doctored,” which brings together his long-form journalism about neuroscience-research malfeasance, including that alleged of Dr. Zlokovic. Though the book sometimes attempts to do too much—diving into scientific theories about the causes of Alzheimer’s, for example—its strength lies in Mr. Piller’s dramatic and damning investigation of scientific transgression. The author’s reporting is largely based on the research of Matthew Schrag, a Vanderbilt neurologist who uses technical expertise to identify episodes of misconduct.

. . .

Mr. Piller thoroughly double checks Dr. Schrag’s work. He asks researchers and image analysts to confirm Dr. Schrag’s findings, and they concur.

. . .

“Doctored” demonstrates how some of the most accomplished and elite scientific gatekeepers may have lied, cheated, squandered trust and endangered lives. How did this happen? The temptations of ego and fame perennially entice humans, but our system of peer review, grant funding and administrative oversight is meant to check these temptations.

The scientific publication process does not contain all the safeguards one might expect. Peer reviewers do not always see the original data from authors. Thus they trust that numbers or images in a manuscript accurately reflect the experiment. And determining whether an image is fraudulent requires skilled image analysis that peer reviewers may not possess. Furthermore, digging for such mistakes is costly: It takes time away from other research, from teaching, from seeing patients and from home life.

What can be done about this? Making raw data available to peer reviewers and giving them time to review articles could help. Mr. Piller suggests a less professionally incestuous relationship between researchers, the Food and Drug Administration, the NIH and pharmaceutical companies could reduce favoritism in funding. A major overhaul of the finances and administrative swell of our system would help, as well.

For the full review see:

Aaron Rothstein. “Medical Promise Betrayed.” The Wall Street Journal (Saturday, Jan. 25, 2025): C9.

(Note: the online version of the review has the date January 24, 2025, and has the title “‘Doctored’ Review: Medical Promise Betrayed.”)

The book under review is:

Piller, Charles. Doctored: Fraud, Arrogance, and Tragedy in the Quest to Cure Alzheimer’s. New York: Atria/One Signal Publishers, 2025.

Amar Bhidé on Uncertainty

I have not read the latest book by Amar Bhidé, briefly discussed in the passages quoted below, but I have assigned a couple of his earlier books in my Economics of Entrepreneurship and Economics of Technology seminars. Bhidé asks important questions and I like his empirically rich and methodologically pluralist approach to answering them.

(p. R2) “Uncertainty and Enterprise: Venturing Beyond the Known” is a must-read for anyone seeking a roadmap to the bewildering array of new technologies exploding today. Written with considerable charm by the distinguished economist and scholar Amar Bhidé— . . . —the book makes a compelling case that hard facts alone cannot prove or predict whether a new political movement, business idea, technology or TV series will succeed. The author offers a fascinating array of stories, examples and ideas of great thinkers— . . . —rather than relying solely on math or statistics. This book provides a new way of looking not only at risk but, more importantly, at uncertainty in an unpredictable world.

For the full review, see:

Elaine Chao. “12 Months of Reading: Elaine Chao.” The Wall Street Journal (Saturday, December 7, 2024): R2.

(Note: ellipses added.)

(Note: the online version of the review was updated Dec. 6, 2024, and has the title “Who Read What in 2024: Political Voices: Elaine Chao.”)

The book praised by Chao is:

Bhidé, Amar. Uncertainty and Enterprise: Venturing Beyond the Known. New York: Oxford University Press, 2024.

For Quicker Cures, Do Not Cancel Those Who See What We Do Not See

Dogs smell odors that we do not smell. They say Eskimos can distinguish 40 or more kinds of snow. Physical differences in biology and differences in past experiences allow some people to perceive what other people miss. We should encourage, not cancel, those who see differently. They can communicate and act on what they see, giving us more cures more quickly.

In the passages quoted below, a case is made that Pasteur’s artistic experiences allowed him to see a structural difference (chirality) in crystals; a difference that turns out to matter for medical drug molecules.

(p. D5) In a paper published last month in Nature Chemistry, Dr. Gal explains how a young Pasteur fought against the odds to articulate the existence of chirality, or the way that some molecules exist in mirror-image forms capable of producing very different effects. Today we see chirality’s effects in light, in chemistry and in the body — even in the drugs we take.

And we might not know a thing about them if it weren’t for the little-known artistic experience of Louis Pasteur, says Dr. Gal.

. . .

As a teenager, Pasteur made portraits of his friends, family and dignitaries. But after his father urged him to pursue a more serious profession — one that would feed him — he became a scientist. At the age of 24 he discovered chirality.

To understand chirality, consider two objects held up before a mirror: a white cue ball from a pool table and your hand. The reflection of the ball is exactly like the original. If you could reach into that mirror, pull out the reflection and cram it inside the original, they’d match up point for point. But if you tried the same thing with your hand, no matter how much you tried, the mirror image would never fit into the original.

At the molecular level some objects are like cue balls, and they are always superimposable. But other things are like hands, and they can never be combined.

. . .

During winemaking, a chemical called tartaric acid builds up on vat walls. In the 18th and 19th centuries, makers of medicine and dyes used this acid.

In 1819, factory workers boiled wine too long and accidentally produced paratartaric acid, which had unique properties that intrigued scientists like Pasteur.

. . .

When studying the paratartaric acid, Pasteur found that it produced two kinds of crystals — one like those found in tartaric acid and another that was the mirror opposite. The crystals were handed, or what the Greeks call chiral (kheir) for hand.

. . .

“Several famous or much more accomplished scientists, some well along their illustrious careers, studied the same molecules, the same substances,” said Dr. Gal. “Realistically you would think they’d have beaten him to the punch, and yet they missed it.”

So why did this young, inexperienced chemist get it right?

Dr. Gal thinks the answer might lie in the artistic passions of Pasteur’s youth. Even as a scientist, Pasteur remained closely connected to art. He taught classes on how chemistry could be used in fine art and attended salons. He even carried around a notebook, jotting down 1-4 ratings of artwork he visited.

And then Dr. Gal stumbled upon a letter Pasteur had written to his parents about a lithographic portrait he had made of a friend.

Lithography back then involved etching a drawing onto a limestone slab with wax or oil and acid, and pressing a white piece of paper on top of it. The resulting picture was transposed, like a mirror image of the drawing left on the slab.

In his letter, Pasteur wrote:

“I think I have not previously produced anything as well drawn and having as good a resemblance. All who have seen it find it striking. But I greatly fear one thing, that is, that on the paper the portrait will not be as good as on the stone; this is what always happens.”

Eureka. “Isn’t this the explanation of how he saw the handedness on the crystals — because he was sensitized to that as an artist?” Dr. Gal proposed.

. . .

We now know that many drugs contain molecules that exist in two chiral forms, and that the two forms can react differently in the body. The most tragic example occurred in the 1950s and ’60s, when doctors prescribed Thalidomide, a drug for morning sickness and other ailments, to pregnant women. The drug also contained a chiral molecule that caused disastrous side effects in many babies.

For the full story see:

Joanna Klein. “How Pasteur’s Artistic Insight Changed Chemistry.” The New York Times (Tuesday, June 20, 2017 [sic]): D5.

(Note: ellipses added.)

(Note: the online version of the story has the date June 14, 2017 [sic], and has the same title as the print version.)

The academic article in Nature Chemistry authored by Gal and mentioned above is:

Gal, Joseph. “Pasteur and the Art of Chirality.” Nature Chemistry 9, no. 7 (2017): 604-05.

Reductio ad Absurdum: When a Functional MRI Showed Activity in a Dead Salmon’s Brain

I have long thought that most college students would benefit from a course in practical reasoning. One topic in such a course would be to define and illustrate the Reductio ad Absurdum argument. The argument starts with a proposition, and then infers an absurdity from the proposition, thereby refuting the original proposition. The review quoted below mentions such an argument that implicitly starts with the proposition that fMRI scans are reliable guides to human thought. The absurdity is that fMRI scans sometimes light up in the presence of a dead Atlantic salmon, which would seem to suggest that the salmon is thinking. The conclusion: be careful what you infer from fMRI scans.

My favorite reductio ad absurdum argument starts with the proposition that all actionable knowledge must derive from randomized double-blind clinical trials (RCTs). The argument then shows that no RCTs have been performed to show the efficacy of parachutes. The absurdity is that before anyone uses a parachute when exiting a flying airplane, he must first find an RCT to prove the efficacy of parachutes. The conclusion: when you volunteer for the first such RCT, hope that you are not assigned to the control group!

(p. A15) In 2009 a group of researchers placed a dead salmon in a functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI) scanner and showed the fish some photos of people in social situations. Their results, presented under the title “Neural Correlates of Interspecies Perspective Taking in the Post-Mortem Atlantic Salmon,” were surprising. The scans revealed a red spot of activity centered in the salmon’s brain.

The authors of the study weren’t trying to pull a fast one on the scientific community. Nor did they believe in zombie fish. They were showing that statistics, used incorrectly, can demonstrate almost anything. Specifically, a certain type of data analysis, often used on fMRI scans, can find signal where there should be only noise.

Russell Poldrack, a psychologist at Stanford University, mentions the stunt in “The New Mind Readers: What Neuroimaging Can and Cannot Reveal About Our Thoughts.” His book, ostensibly about fMRI and its use in studying how the brain functions (hence “functional”), serves as a lesson in how the science works—or should work. Through blunders and baloney, innovation and self-correction, the young field of cognitive neuroscience is quickly evolving.

For the full review see:

Matthew Hutson. “Bookshelf; Scanning For Thoughts.” The Wall Street Journal (Wednesday, November 28, 2018 [sic]): A15.

(Note: the online version of the review has the date November 27, 2018 [sic], and has the title “Bookshelf; ‘The New Mind Readers’ Review: Scanning for Thoughts.”)

The book under review is:

Poldrack, Russell. The New Mind Readers: What Neuroimaging Can and Cannot Reveal About Our Thoughts. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2018.

The parachute reductio argument is in:

Smith, Gordon C. S., and Jill P. Pell. “Parachute Use to Prevent Death and Major Trauma Related to Gravitational Challenge: Systematic Review of Randomised Controlled Trials.” BMJ 327, no. 7429 (Dec. 18, 2003): 1459-61.

Drugs for Dog Longevity May Also Aid Human Longevity

Dogs have long contributed to advances in human medicine. For instance C. Walton Lillehei experimented on dogs to develop his path-breaking human open-heart operations (see the book King of Hearts). What pains me about those dog contributions is that the dogs themselves died in the experiments. In the more recent dog contributions to human medicine, as discussed in the passages quoted below, the dogs themselves have a good chance to benefit as they contribute to human health. I like that a lot better.

(p. A11) In the quest to help people live longer, scientists and companies are turning to dogs.

. . .

Behind the growing enthusiasm is a mix of scientists and entrepreneurs—building on the surging interest from people aiming to live longer. These groups say insights into dog longevity could provide lessons and perhaps eventually treatments that could help people, too.

. . .

On Tuesday [Nov. 28, 2023], a biotech startup that’s hoping to have the first FDA-approved treatment to extend healthy lifespan in dogs, took a step toward that goal. In a letter viewed by The Wall Street Journal, the Food and Drug Administration affirmed that its drug had demonstrated “reasonable expectation of effectiveness.”

The company, called Loyal, still has to complete several more steps before it can market the drug, and it’s only aimed at canines.

. . .

Celine Halioua, chief executive of Loyal, the biotech startup working toward conditional approval of its lifespan drug, says there is a larger aim in addition to helping dogs live healthier for longer. The company has set a possible precedent for other drugs to be approved for lifespan extension, potentially opening a door for other animal—or human—drug companies to follow.

“I think we can both take the opportunity to build better medicines for our dogs and also to better understand these really complex diseases,” says Halioua, whose own 85-pound Rottweiler mix, Della, is nearing the end of her projected lifespan.

The firm’s drug is an injectable that is designed to reduce levels of IGF-1, a hormone that drives cell growth, in large dogs. High blood levels of IGF-1 have been associated with shorter lifespans in some animal and human studies.

The company’s research has indicated that the drug can reduce those hormone levels, but it would still need a large clinical trial demonstrating it can extend dog lifespans in order to achieve full FDA approval. It also needs the agency’s signoff on the drug’s safety and proper manufacturing before getting conditional approval and beginning to sell it, which Loyal hopes to do in 2026.

Still, the FDA nod this week is a promising next step for the field, dog aging researchers say, and will likely drive more interest from biotech and pharmaceutical companies.

“If it is proven that the drug is effective in dogs then there is a higher chance that it will work in the case of humans, too,” says Eniko Kubinyi, a biologist studying dog behavior and cognition with the Budapest-based Family Dog Project.

For the full story see:

Alex Janin. “Secrets of Anti-Aging, Gleaned From Dogs.” The Wall Street Journal (Thursday, Nov. 30, 2023 [sic]): A11.

(Note: ellipses, and bracketed date, added.)

(Note: the online version of the story has the date November 29, 2023 [sic], and has the title “The Clues to Longer Life That Are Coming From Dogs.” The last four paragraphs quoted above appeared in the more detailed online version, but not the print version, of the article. Some of the earlier quoted sentences are quoted in the longer form that appeared in the online version.)

The biography of Lillehei mentioned in my opening comments above is:

Miller, G. Wayne. King of Hearts: The True Story of the Maverick Who Pioneered Open Heart Surgery. New York: Crown, 2000.

The American Academy of Pediatrics Ignored Early Evidence that Having Infants AVOID Peanuts CAUSES Peanut Allergy

I have praised Marty Makary’s Blind Spots in earlier posts, partly for its compelling examples of where mainstream medicine has failed to adapt to new, strong, sometimes observational evidence. His opening major example is the American Academy of Pediatrics’s long ban on giving peanuts to infants and toddlers. Instead of protecting them from peanut allergy, the ban caused a large increase in peanut allergy. In the essay quoted below, Makary summarizes the peanut example from Blind Spots.

(p. C4) In 1999, researchers at Mount Sinai Hospital estimated the incidence of peanut allergies in children to be 0.6%. But starting in the year 2000, the prevalence began to surge. Doctors began to notice that more children affected had severe allergies.

What had changed wasn’t peanuts but the advice doctors gave to parents about them. The American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP) wanted to respond to public concern by telling parents what they should do to protect their kids from peanut allergies. There was just one problem: Doctors didn’t actually know what precautions, if any, parents should take. Rather than admit that, in the year 2000 the AAP issued a recommendation for children 0 to 3 years old and pregnant and lactating mothers to avoid all peanuts.

. . .

Dr. Gideon Lack, a pediatric allergist and immunologist in London, had a different view. In 2000 he was giving a lecture in Israel on allergies and asked the roughly 200 pediatricians in the audience, “How many of you are seeing kids with a peanut allergy?” Only two or three raised their hands. Back in London, nearly every pediatrician had raised their hand to the same question.

Startled by the discrepancy, he had a eureka moment. Many Israeli infants are fed a peanut-based food called Bamba. To Lack, this was no coincidence, and he quickly assembled researchers in Tel Aviv and Jerusalem to launch a formal study. It found that Jewish children in Israel had one-tenth the rate of peanut allergies compared with Jewish children in the U.K., suggesting that genetic predisposition was not responsible, as the medical establishment had assumed.

Lack and his Israeli colleagues titled their paper “Early Consumption of Peanuts in Infancy Is Associated with a Low Prevalence of Peanut Allergy.” However, the 2008 publication was not enough to uproot groupthink. Avoiding peanuts had been the correct answer on medical school tests and board exams, which were written and administered by the American Board of Pediatrics. For nearly a decade after AAP’s peanut avoidance recommendation, neither the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases (NIAID) nor other institutions would fund a robust study to evaluate whether the policy was helping or hurting children.

Meanwhile, the more that health officials implored parents to follow the recommendation, the worse peanut allergies got. From 2005 to 2014, the number of children going to the emergency department because of peanut allergies tripled in the U.S. By 2019, a report estimated that 1 in every 18 American children had a peanut allergy. . . .

In a second clinical trial, published in the New England Journal of Medicine in 2015, Lack compared one group of infants who were exposed to peanut butter at 4-11 months of age to another group that had no peanut exposure. He found that early exposure resulted in an 86% reduction in peanut allergies by the time the child reached age 5 compared with children who followed the AAP recommendation.

. . .

When modern medicine issues recommendations based on good scientific studies, it shines. Conversely, when doctors rule by opinion and edict, we have an embarrassing track record. Unfortunately, medical dogma may be more prevalent today than in the past because intolerance for different opinions is on the rise, in medicine as throughout society.

For the full essay see:

Marty Makary. “Who’s Responsible for America’s Peanut Allergy Epidemic?” The Wall Street Journal (Saturday, Sept. 21, 2024): C4.

(Note: the online version of the essay has the date September 19, 2024, and has the title “How Pediatricians Created the Peanut Allergy Epidemic.”)

Makary’s essay is adapted from his book:

Makary, Marty. Blind Spots: When Medicine Gets It Wrong, and What It Means for Our Health. New York: Bloomsbury Publishing, 2024.

Regulators Wanted to Renege on Promise to Clinical Trial Volunteers Who Got the Placebo

Everyone agrees that those who receive the placebo in a randomized double-blind controlled trial (RCT) are losers in the clinical lottery. The question is whether the epistemic gain from RCTs justifies the pain for the losers? I am not a fan of Fauci, but his proposed solution to the dilemma in the case discussed below seems plausible, if we assume (as I do not) that RCTs are a necessary condition for all actionable medical knowledge and yet we still attempt to treat clinical trial volunteers ethically. My even better solution is to allow all willing volunteers to take the experimental drug, with no-one receiving a placebo. Then use some Bayesian updating technique to gather information from the comparison of results for study participants who volunteered to take the drug, with results for study participants who did not volunteer to take the drug. The study would not be blind, but useful information could be obtained, for instance if no one who takes the drug suffers from the disease, but many who do not take the drug, do suffer from the disease. In that case we have evidence that the drug is effective.

(p. A7) In October [2020], Judith Munz and her husband, Scott Petersen, volunteered for a coronavirus vaccine trial. At a clinic near their home in Phoenix, each got a jab in the arm.

Dr. Petersen, a retired physician, became a little fatigued after his shot, and developed redness and swelling on his arm. But Ms. Munz, a social worker, didn’t notice any change. “As much as I wanted it, I couldn’t find a darned thing,” she said. “It was a nothing burger.”

She knew there was a 50-50 chance that she would get the vaccine, developed by Johnson & Johnson. Judging from her lack of symptoms, she guessed she had received the placebo.

At the time, Ms. Munz thought that anyone who had received the placebo would get the real vaccine as soon as the trial showed it was safe and effective. She looked forward to the peace of mind it would bring. But last month, she was asked to sign a modified consent form indicating that people who got the placebo might have to wait up to two years to get the vaccine, if they got one at all.

Ms. Munz found the form vague, confusing and, most of all, unfair. “You put yourself out there with that risk,” she said. “I am owed that vaccine.”

. . .

But on Wednesday [Dec. 2, 2020], 18 leading vaccine experts — including a top regulator at the Food and Drug Administration — argued that vaccinating placebo groups early would be disastrous for the integrity of the trials. If all of the volunteers who received placebo shots were to suddenly get vaccinated, scientists would no longer be able to compare the health of those who were vaccinated with those who were not.

“If you’re going to prioritize people to get vaccinated, the last people you should vaccinate are those who were in a placebo group in a trial,” said Richard Peto, a medical statistician at the University of Oxford. Mr. Peto and his colleagues laid out their concerns in a new commentary in The New England Journal of Medicine.

. . .

Yet the prospect of giving people something useless in the face of a life-threatening disease has always been fraught. Even Jonas Salk balked at the idea of giving people placebos when researchers designed a trial to test his new polio vaccine in 1953.

“I would feel that every child who is injected with a placebo and becomes paralyzed will do so at my hands,” he complained. The study, Dr. Salk declared, “would make Hippocrates turn over in his grave.”

. . .

Dr. Fauci sketched out one possible way to balance the obligation owed to people who took the placebo against the need for more data from the trials. Vaccine makers could give everyone who got the placebo the vaccine — while also giving everyone who got the vaccine the placebo. None of the trial participants would know which order they got the doses. The trial could therefore continue to be blinded.

. . .

After learning that it may take two years before Johnson & Johnson will provide her with the real vaccine, Ms. Munz, who is 68, is considering trying to get Pfizer or Moderna’s version as soon as she’s eligible thanks to her age.

“I’ll drop out, which I can do, and I’ll get the vaccine,” she said.

Holly Janes, a biostatistician at the Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center in Seattle, and her colleagues are preparing for this kind of erosion. She and her colleagues are now working on statistical methods to squeeze the most insight out of the trials no matter what their fate.

“It won’t be ideal from a purely scientific vantage point, because we lose the direct comparison between vaccine and placebo,” she said. “But we’re trying to strike a balance between doing what some would argue is right for the participants, and maximizing the public health value that comes out of these trials.”

For the full story see:

Carl Zimmer and Noah Weiland. “Should Volunteers Who Got Placebo Be First to Get the Real Thing?” The New York Times (Thursday, December 3, 2020): A7.

(Note: ellipses, and bracketed year and date, added.)

(Note: the online version of the story was updated Dec. 18, 2020 [sic], and has the title “Many Trial Volunteers Got Placebo Vaccines. Do They Now Deserve the Real Ones?”)

“More Than 60%” of Medicines Are Based on Chemicals First “Produced by Living Organisms”

Over millennia life (plants, microbes, fungi) developed toxins to protect them from predators. If humans can identify these toxins, they can use them to likewise protect themselves against diseases. Through serendipitous accident and random trial and error, over tens of thousands of years, indigenous peoples discovered and made use of some of these toxins. We should make use of this knowledge even though it is not certified by any randomized double-blind clinical trials performed by highly credentialed academics. Cassandra Quave, author of the essay quoted below, is working to do this, as is Berkeley professor Noah Whiteman, the author of Most Delicious Poison.

(p. C4) My team moved in unison to clip bits of plants, press them into sheets of paper and stuff them into large collection bags. Later, in my research lab at Emory University, we would test their chemical compounds against antibiotic-resistant pathogens. The possibility of developing new drugs from elements of nature such as our leaf clippings is important for everyone, but it’s personal for me; after losing my leg as a child, I nearly died as a result of postsurgical infection.

In recent decades, with the advance of high-tech methods for synthesizing molecules, the search for useful medical compounds from the natural world, especially plants, has faded. Fortunately, just as we’ve started to recognize the limits of artificial synthesis, even newer technology is now helping scientists like me to release more of nature’s medicinal secrets.

Plants have been the source of countless revolutionary medicines since the 19th century. Scientists derived aspirin from the willow tree, for instance, and morphine from opium poppies. They found quinine, the first treatment for malaria, in the bark of the Amazon’s fever tree (and more than a century later, scientists in China found that artemisinin from sweet wormwood was also a powerful anti-malarial agent). Many groundbreaking cancer drugs also came from plants—Taxol from the Pacific yew tree, vincristine from the Madagascar periwinkle.

Microbes found in soil and fungi launched a golden era of advances in antibiotics, starting with the discovery of penicillin in a mold in 1928. By the peak in the 1950s, scientists were isolating a wide range of antimicrobial compounds from microbes found in nature. But such work ended all too soon, as scientists stopped discovering effective new compounds.

Many of the drugs originally drawn from nature are now synthesized in pharmaceutical factories, using the blueprint of their chemical structures. Natural products (that is, chemicals genetically encoded and produced by living organisms) account for more than 60% of the pharmaceuticals that we possess.

Over the past 30 years, however, the focus on nature waned as scientists instead built large chemical libraries filled with tens of thousands of lab-made molecules. One hope was that the next antibiotic breakthrough would emerge from making and testing enough of these synthetic compounds. But that effort has fallen flat: Though other medicines have been developed in the lab, no new registered classes of antibiotics have been discovered since the 1980s.

For the full essay see:

Cassandra Quave. “Hunting for Medicines Hidden in Plants.” The Wall Street Journal (Saturday, November 20, 2021 [sic]): C4.

(Note: the online version of the essay has the same date and title as the print version.)

Quave’s essay is adapted from her book:

Quave, Cassandra Leah. The Plant Hunter: A Scientist’s Quest for Nature’s Next Medicines. New York: Viking, 2021.

The Noah Whiteman book I praise in my introductory comments is:

Whiteman, Noah. Most Delicious Poison: The Story of Nature’s Toxins―from Spices to Vices. New York: Little, Brown Spark, 2023.