Are Physicians Morally Obligated to Prescribe Experimental Therapies?
The federal 'Right to Try' bill in the United States recently passed the House and requires Senate approval before it becomes law. The bill would provide patients access to experimental drugs and other products that have not received approval from the Food and Drug Administration (FDA), including stem cell treatments.
It's not enough to act on a hunch that it might work.
Most folks think this is a good thing, but several express concern over whether the law would truly help patients. Even if a company allows patients to access an experimental drug, an important question remains: Should a doctor prescribe it?
Before such a drug can be prescribed, the federal bill states that a physician must "certify" that the patient has exhausted all available treatments or does not meet the criteria for standard treatment. Even after determining eligibility, a physician needs to consider a few points first. It's not enough to act on a hunch that it might work. The concept of medical innovation could help doctors figure out if prescribing an experimental treatment is the right thing to do.
Medical innovation falls within the doctor's scope of practice. Based on their experience and sound scientific rationale, physicians can "innovate" and offer treatment tailored to a patient with the goal of improving health. This differs from the goal of clinical research, which is to produce generalizable knowledge, not necessarily to benefit patients. In medical specialties like surgery, many of the standard procedures were developed through medical innovation, not clinical trials. Under the 'Right to Try,' a physician could ethically prescribe an experimental therapy as medical innovation if the following conditions are met.
Medical innovation should follow similar ethical and scientific oversight as clinical research.
First, there must be sound scientific rationale, and evidence of safety and efficacy of the innovative treatment from preclinical (animal and lab) research or clinical (human) research. The 'Right to Try' bill permits access to experimental products only after safety is demonstrated from a phase 1 clinical trial. This initial testing, called "first in human," aims to determine safety and dosing of an experimental product on typically around 20 to 100 people who are healthy volunteers or have a condition. This way, a physician can be assured that there is some evidence indicating the product is safe.
Efficacy must be demonstrated in animal and lab preclinical studies in order to gain permission from the FDA to do a phase 1 trial in the first place. This way, a doctor can also be assured that sound scientific rationale exists indicating a potential benefit to the patient. Only through further phase 2 and 3 clinical trials on hundreds or more people would a doctor know with greater certainty that the therapy works, but this might take many more years.
A doctor should not completely rely on what others in the scientific community think about the experimental treatment and should have appropriate expertise. This includes knowledge about the disease, familiarity with treating such patients, and an understanding of how the experimental treatment works, including administering it.
Second, medical innovation should follow similar ethical and scientific oversight as clinical research. Physicians should write a protocol for administering the experimental therapy and have it reviewed by clinical, scientific, and ethics experts at their institution. A protocol would include all the information on how the doctor would provide the therapy to patients, including dosages, monitoring, what happens if there are side effects, and much more. The experts would examine various components of the plan, look at informed consent, and ensure a favorable benefit-to-risk ratio, among other aspects.
When weighing whether to prescribe an experimental treatment, doctors need to base this decision on sound science and relevant clinical experience, not on hope or desperation.
Third, doctors should properly inform their patients about the risks (including if the risks are unknown), possible benefits, and the details of the procedure to be undertaken, and they must obtain the patient's consent.
Fourth, physicians should thoroughly monitor and diligently document all aspects of the outcomes of the procedure, various clinical indicators, and adverse events. During the course of providing an experimental therapy, if harm to a patient occurs, the physician is obligated to alter the course of the treatment or stop it. Similarly, if evidence from an ongoing clinical trial shows that the experimental treatment might help some but not all patients, the doctor needs to modify the plan accordingly.
Fifth, upon completing the experimental treatment, physicians should publish their findings to share the knowledge. Note that medical innovation is not meant to replace clinical trials. The two can be complementary, and medical innovation can lead to the design of clinical trials to demonstrate safety and efficacy.
Other experts may not agree that it can be ethical for a physician to prescribe an unapproved drug. Such dissenters would claim that physicians should only prescribe medications when there is substantial scientific and clinical certainty that a product is safe and effective for patients. They are also likely to oppose most forms of medical innovation. Yet even after undergoing rigorous clinical trials, some approved products have been shown to be unsafe or ineffective and are removed from the market.
While it seems that more evidence is better, doctors need to be mindful that patients are suffering and some may never receive access to drugs still in the pipeline. Bound by the Hippocratic Oath – the main tenet being "do no harm" – doctors are obligated to prescribe therapies that will help their patients. When weighing whether to prescribe an experimental treatment, doctors need to base this decision on sound science and relevant clinical experience, not on hope or desperation. Given that patients who want to participate in the 'Right to Try' movement have exhausted all other options and their condition may be worsening, it would seem ethically appropriate for a physician to treat them with an experimental drug, as long as the criteria listed above are satisfied.
The views expressed are the author's personal views, and do not necessarily reflect the policy or position of Mayo Clinic.
When doctors couldn’t stop her daughter’s seizures, this mom earned a PhD and found a treatment herself.
Twenty-eight years ago, Tracy Dixon-Salazaar woke to the sound of her daughter, two-year-old Savannah, in the midst of a medical emergency.
“I entered [Savannah’s room] to see her tiny little body jerking about violently in her bed,” Tracy said in an interview. “I thought she was choking.” When she and her husband frantically called 911, the paramedic told them it was likely that Savannah had had a seizure—a term neither Tracy nor her husband had ever heard before.
Over the next several years, Savannah’s seizures continued and worsened. By age five Savannah was having seizures dozens of times each day, and her parents noticed significant developmental delays. Savannah was unable to use the restroom and functioned more like a toddler than a five-year-old.
Doctors were mystified: Tracy and her husband had no family history of seizures, and there was no event—such as an injury or infection—that could have caused them. Doctors were also confused as to why Savannah’s seizures were happening so frequently despite trying different seizure medications.
Doctors eventually diagnosed Savannah with Lennox-Gaustaut Syndrome, or LGS, an epilepsy disorder with no cure and a poor prognosis. People with LGS are often resistant to several kinds of anti-seizure medications, and often suffer from developmental delays and behavioral problems. People with LGS also have a higher chance of injury as well as a higher chance of sudden unexpected death (SUDEP) due to the frequent seizures. In about 70 percent of cases, LGS has an identifiable cause such as a brain injury or genetic syndrome. In about 30 percent of cases, however, the cause is unknown.
Watching her daughter struggle through repeated seizures was devastating to Tracy and the rest of the family.
“This disease, it comes into your life. It’s uninvited. It’s unannounced and it takes over every aspect of your daily life,” said Tracy in an interview with Today.com. “Plus it’s attacking the thing that is most precious to you—your kid.”
Desperate to find some answers, Tracy began combing the medical literature for information about epilepsy and LGS. She enrolled in college courses to better understand the papers she was reading.
“Ironically, I thought I needed to go to college to take English classes to understand these papers—but soon learned it wasn’t English classes I needed, It was science,” Tracy said. When she took her first college science course, Tracy says, she “fell in love with the subject.”
Tracy was now a caregiver to Savannah, who continued to have hundreds of seizures a month, as well as a full-time student, studying late into the night and while her kids were at school, using classwork as “an outlet for the pain.”
“I couldn’t help my daughter,” Tracy said. “Studying was something I could do.”
Twelve years later, Tracy had earned a PhD in neurobiology.
After her post-doctoral training, Tracy started working at a lab that explored the genetics of epilepsy. Savannah’s doctors hadn’t found a genetic cause for her seizures, so Tracy decided to sequence her genome again to check for other abnormalities—and what she found was life-changing.
Tracy discovered that Savannah had a calcium channel mutation, meaning that too much calcium was passing through Savannah’s neural pathways, leading to seizures. The information made sense to Tracy: Anti-seizure medications often leech calcium from a person’s bones. When doctors had prescribed Savannah calcium supplements in the past to counteract these effects, her seizures had gotten worse every time she took the medication. Tracy took her discovery to Savannah’s doctor, who agreed to prescribe her a calcium blocker.
The change in Savannah was almost immediate.
Within two weeks, Savannah’s seizures had decreased by 95 percent. Once on a daily seven-drug regimen, she was soon weaned to just four, and then three. Amazingly, Tracy started to notice changes in Savannah’s personality and development, too.
“She just exploded in her personality and her talking and her walking and her potty training and oh my gosh she is just so sassy,” Tracy said in an interview.
Since starting the calcium blocker eleven years ago, Savannah has continued to make enormous strides. Though still unable to read or write, Savannah enjoys puzzles and social media. She’s “obsessed” with boys, says Tracy. And while Tracy suspects she’ll never be able to live independently, she and her daughter can now share more “normal” moments—something she never anticipated at the start of Savannah’s journey with LGS. While preparing for an event, Savannah helped Tracy get ready.
“We picked out a dress and it was the first time in our lives that we did something normal as a mother and a daughter,” she said. “It was pretty cool.”
A sleek, four-foot tall white robot glides across a cafe storefront in Tokyo’s Nihonbashi district, holding a two-tiered serving tray full of tea sandwiches and pastries. The cafe’s patrons smile and say thanks as they take the tray—but it’s not the robot they’re thanking. Instead, the patrons are talking to the person controlling the robot—a restaurant employee who operates the avatar from the comfort of their home.
It’s a typical scene at DAWN, short for Diverse Avatar Working Network—a cafe that launched in Tokyo six years ago as an experimental pop-up and quickly became an overnight success. Today, the cafe is a permanent fixture in Nihonbashi, staffing roughly 60 remote workers who control the robots remotely and communicate to customers via a built-in microphone.
More than just a creative idea, however, DAWN is being hailed as a life-changing opportunity. The workers who control the robots remotely (known as “pilots”) all have disabilities that limit their ability to move around freely and travel outside their homes. Worldwide, an estimated 16 percent of the global population lives with a significant disability—and according to the World Health Organization, these disabilities give rise to other problems, such as exclusion from education, unemployment, and poverty.
These are all problems that Kentaro Yoshifuji, founder and CEO of Ory Laboratory, which supplies the robot servers at DAWN, is looking to correct. Yoshifuji, who was bedridden for several years in high school due to an undisclosed health problem, launched the company to help enable people who are house-bound or bedridden to more fully participate in society, as well as end the loneliness, isolation, and feelings of worthlessness that can sometimes go hand-in-hand with being disabled.
“It’s heartbreaking to think that [people with disabilities] feel they are a burden to society, or that they fear their families suffer by caring for them,” said Yoshifuji in an interview in 2020. “We are dedicating ourselves to providing workable, technology-based solutions. That is our purpose.”
Shota Kuwahara, a DAWN employee with muscular dystrophy. Ory Labs, Inc.
Wanting to connect with others and feel useful is a common sentiment that’s shared by the workers at DAWN. Marianne, a mother of two who lives near Mt. Fuji, Japan, is functionally disabled due to chronic pain and fatigue. Working at DAWN has allowed Marianne to provide for her family as well as help alleviate her loneliness and grief.Shota, Kuwahara, a DAWN employee with muscular dystrophy, agrees. "There are many difficulties in my daily life, but I believe my life has a purpose and is not being wasted," he says. "Being useful, able to help other people, even feeling needed by others, is so motivational."