Medical Breakthroughs Set to be Fast-Tracked by Innovative New Health Agency
Pippy Rogers, second from left, with her four siblings, who worry that they are at risk for Alzheimer's and are calling for an acceleration of research.
In 2007, Matthew Might's son, Bertrand, was born with a life-threatening disease that was so rare, doctors couldn't diagnose it. Might, a computer scientist and biologist, eventually realized, "Oh my gosh, he's the only patient in the world with this disease right now." To find effective treatments, new methodologies would need to be developed. But there was no process or playbook for doing that.
Might took it upon himself, along with a team of specialists, to try to find a cure. "What Bertrand really taught me was the visceral sense of urgency when there's suffering, and how to act on that," he said.
He calls it "the agency of urgency"—and patients with more common diseases, such as cancer and Alzheimer's, often feel that same need to take matters into their own hands, as they find their hopes for new treatments running up against bureaucratic systems designed to advance in small, steady steps, not leaps and bounds. "We all hope for a cure," said Florence "Pippy" Rogers, a 65-year-old volunteer with Georgia's chapter of the Alzheimer's Association. She lost her mother to the disease and, these days, worries about herself and her four siblings. "We need to keep accelerating research."
We have a fresh example of what can be achieved by fast-tracking discoveries in healthcare: Covid-19 vaccines.
President Biden has pushed for cancer moonshots since the disease took the life of his son, Beau, in 2015. His administration has now requested $6.5 billion to start a new agency in 2022, called the Advanced Research Projects Agency for Health, or ARPA-H, within the National Institutes of Health. It's based on DARPA, the Department of Defense agency known for hatching world-changing technologies such as drones, GPS and ARPANET, which became the internet.
We have a fresh example of what can be achieved by fast-tracking discoveries in healthcare: Covid-19 vaccines. "Operation Warp Speed was using ARPA-like principles," said Might. "It showed that in a moment of crisis, institutions like NIH can think in an ARPA-like way. So now the question is, why don't we do that all the time?"
But applying the DARPA model to health involves several challenging decisions. I asked experts what could be the hardest question facing advocates of ARPA-H: which health problems it should seek to address. "All the wonderful choices lead to the problem of which ones to choose and prioritize," said Sudip Parikh, CEO of the American Association for the Advancement of Science and executive publisher of the Science family of journals. "There is no objectively right answer."
The Agency of Urgency
ARPA-H will borrow at least three critical ingredients from DARPA: goal-oriented project managers, many from industry; aggressive public-private partnerships; and collaboration among fields that don't always interact. The DARPA concept has been applied to other purposes, including energy and homeland security, with promising results. "We're learning that 'ARPA-ism' is a franchisable model," said Might, a former principal investigator on DARPA projects.
The federal government already pours billions of dollars into advancing research on life-threatening diseases, with much of it channeled through the National Institutes of Health. But the purpose of ARPA-H "isn't just the usual suspects that NIH would fund," said David Walt, a Harvard biochemist, an innovator in gene sequencing and former chair of DARPA's Defense Science Research Council. Whereas some NIH-funded studies aim to gradually improve our understanding of diseases, ARPA-H projects will give full focus to real-world applications; they'll use essential findings from NIH research as starting points, drawing from them to rapidly engineer new technologies that could save lives.
And, ultimately, billions in healthcare costs, if ARPA-H lives up to its predecessor's track record; DARPA's breakthroughs have been economic game-changers, while its fail-fast approach—quickly pulling the plug on projects that aren't panning out—helps to avoid sunken costs. ARPA-H could fuel activities similar to the human genome project, which used existing research to map the base pairs that make up DNA, opening new doors for the biotech industry, sparking economic growth and creating hundreds of thousands of new jobs.
Despite a nearly $4 trillion health economy, "we aren't innovating when it comes to technological capabilities for health," said Liz Feld, president of the Suzanne Wright Foundation for pancreatic cancer.
Individual Diseases Ripe for Innovation
Although the need for innovation is clear, which diseases ARPA-H should tackle is less apparent. One important consideration when choosing health priorities could be "how many people suffer from a disease," said Nancy Kass, a professor of bioethics and public health at Johns Hopkins.
That perspective could justify cancer as a top objective. Cancer and heart disease have long been the two major killers in the U.S. Leonidas Platanias, professor of oncology at Northwestern and director of its cancer center, noted that we've already made significant progress on heart disease. "Anti-cholesterol drugs really have a wide impact," he said. "I don't want to compare one disease to another, but I think cancer may be the most challenging. We need even bigger breakthroughs." He wondered whether ARPA-H should be linked to the part of NIH dedicated to cancer, the National Cancer Institute, "to take maximum advantage of what happens" there.
Previous cancer moonshots have laid a foundation for success. And this sort of disease-by-disease approach makes sense in a way. "We know that concentrating on some diseases has led to treatments," said Parikh. "Think of spinal muscular atrophy or cystic fibrosis. Now, imagine if immune therapies were discovered ten years earlier."
But many advocates think ARPA-H should choose projects that don't revolve around any one disease. "It absolutely has to be disease agnostic," said Feld, president of the pancreatic cancer foundation. "We cannot reach ARPA-H's potential if it's subject to the advocacy of individual patient groups who think their disease is worse than the guy's disease next to them. That's not the way the DARPA model works." Platanias agreed that ARPA-H should "pick the highest concepts and developments that have the best chance" of success.
Finding Connections Between Diseases
Kass, the Hopkins bioethicist, believes that ARPA-H should walk a balance, with some projects focusing on specific diseases and others aspiring to solutions with broader applications, spanning multiple diseases. Being impartial, some have noted, might involve looking at the total "life years" saved by a health innovation; the more diseases addressed by a given breakthrough, the more years of healthy living it may confer. The social and economic value should increase as well.
For multiple payoffs, ARPA-H could concentrate on rare diseases, which can yield important insights for many other diseases, said Might. Every case of cancer and Alzheimer's is, in a way, its own rare disease. Cancer is a genetic disease, like his son Bertrand's rare disorder, and mutations vary widely across cancer patients. "It's safe to say that no two people have ever actually had the same cancer," said Might. In theory, solutions for rare diseases could help us understand how to individualize treatments for more common diseases.
Many experts I talked with support another priority for ARPA-H with implications for multiple diseases: therapies that slow down the aging process. "Aging is the greatest risk factor for every major disease that NIH is studying," said Matt Kaeberlein, a bio-gerontologist at the University of Washington. Yet, "half of one percent of the NIH budget goes to researching the biology of aging. An ARPA-H sized budget would push the field forward at a pace that's hard to imagine."
Might agreed. "It could take ARPA-H to get past the weird stigmas around aging-related research. It could have a tremendous impact on the field."
For example, ARPA-H could try to use mRNA technology to express proteins that affect biological aging, said Kaeberlein. It's an engineering project well-suited to the DARPA model. So is harnessing machine learning to identify biomarkers that assess how fast people are aging. Biological aging clocks, if validated, could quickly reveal whether proposed therapies for aging are working or not. "I think there's huge value in that," said Kaeberlein.
By delivering breakthroughs in computation, ARPA-H could improve diagnostics for many different diseases. That could include improving biowearables for continuously monitoring blood pressure—a hypothetical mentioned in the White House's concept paper on ARPA-H—and advanced imaging technologies. "The high cost of medical imaging is a leading reason why our healthcare costs are the highest in the world," said Feld. "There's no detection test for ALS. No brain detection for Alzheimer's. Innovations in detection technology would save on cost and human suffering."
Some biotech companies may be skeptical about the financial rewards of accelerating such technologies. But ARPA-H could fund public-private partnerships to "de-risk" biotech's involvement—an incentive that harkens back to the advance purchase contracts that companies got during Covid. (Some groups have suggested that ARPA-H could provide advance purchase agreements.)
Parikh is less bullish on creating diagnostics through ARPA-H. Like DARPA, Biden's health agency will enjoy some independence from federal oversight; it may even be located hundreds of miles from DC. That freedom affords some breathing room for innovation, but it could also make it tougher to ensure that algorithms fully consider diverse populations. "That part I really would like the government more involved in," Parikh said.
Might thinks ARPA-H should also explore innovations in clinical trials, which many patients and medical communities view as grindingly slow and requiring too many participants. "We can approve drugs for very tiny patient populations, even at the level of the individual," he said, while emphasizing the need for safety. But Platanias thinks the FDA has become much more flexible in recent years. In the cancer field, at least, "You now see faster approvals for more drugs. Having [more] shortcuts on clinical trial approvals is not necessarily a good idea."
With so many options on the table, ARPA-H needs to show the public a clear framework for measuring the value of potential projects. Kass warned that well-resourced advocates could skew the agency's priorities. They've affected health outcomes before, she noted; fundraising may partly explain larger increases in life expectancy for cystic fibrosis than sickle cell anemia. Engaging diverse communities is a must for ARPA-H. So are partnerships to get the agency's outputs to people who need them. "Research is half the equation," said Kass. "If we don't ensure implementation and access, who cares." The White House concept paper on ARPA-H made a similar point.
As Congress works on authorizing ARPA-H this year, Might is doing what he can to ensure better access to innovation on a patient-by-patient basis. Last year, his son, Bertrand, passed away suddenly from his disorder. He was 12. But Might's sense of urgency has persisted, as he directs the Precision Medicine Institute at the University of Alabama-Birmingham. That urgency "can be carried into an agency like ARPA-H," he said. "It guides what I do as I apply for funding, because I'm trying to build the infrastructure that other parents need. So they don't have to build it from scratch like I did."
Sept. 13th Event: Delta, Vaccines, and Breakthrough Infections
A visualization of the virus that causes COVID-19.
This virtual event will convene leading scientific and medical experts to address the public's questions and concerns about COVID-19 vaccines, Delta, and breakthrough infections. Audience Q&A will follow the panel discussion. Your questions can be submitted in advance at the registration link.
DATE:
Monday, September 13th, 2021
12:30 p.m. - 1:45 p.m. EDT
REGISTER:
Dr. Amesh Adalja, M.D., FIDSA, Senior Scholar, Johns Hopkins Center for Health Security; Adjunct Assistant Professor, Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health; Affiliate of the Johns Hopkins Center for Global Health. His work is focused on emerging infectious disease, pandemic preparedness, and biosecurity.
Dr. Nahid Bhadelia, M.D., MALD, Founding Director, Boston University Center for Emerging Infectious Diseases Policy and Research (CEID); Associate Director, National Emerging Infectious Diseases Laboratories (NEIDL), Boston University; Associate Professor, Section of Infectious Diseases, Boston University School of Medicine. She is an internationally recognized leader in highly communicable and emerging infectious diseases (EIDs) with clinical, field, academic, and policy experience in pandemic preparedness.
Dr. Akiko Iwasaki, Ph.D., Waldemar Von Zedtwitz Professor of Immunobiology and Molecular, Cellular and Developmental Biology and Professor of Epidemiology (Microbial Diseases), Yale School of Medicine; Investigator, Howard Hughes Medical Institute. Her laboratory researches how innate recognition of viral infections lead to the generation of adaptive immunity, and how adaptive immunity mediates protection against subsequent viral challenge.
Dr. Marion Pepper, Ph.D., Associate Professor, Department of Immunology, University of Washington. Her lab studies how cells of the adaptive immune system, called CD4+ T cells and B cells, form immunological memory by visualizing their differentiation, retention, and function.
This event is the third of a four-part series co-hosted by Leaps.org, the Aspen Institute Science & Society Program, and the Sabin–Aspen Vaccine Science & Policy Group, with generous support from the Gordon and Betty Moore Foundation and the Howard Hughes Medical Institute.
Kira Peikoff was the editor-in-chief of Leaps.org from 2017 to 2021. As a journalist, her work has appeared in The New York Times, Newsweek, Nautilus, Popular Mechanics, The New York Academy of Sciences, and other outlets. She is also the author of four suspense novels that explore controversial issues arising from scientific innovation: Living Proof, No Time to Die, Die Again Tomorrow, and Mother Knows Best. Peikoff holds a B.A. in Journalism from New York University and an M.S. in Bioethics from Columbia University. She lives in New Jersey with her husband and two young sons. Follow her on Twitter @KiraPeikoff.
Don't Panic Over Waning Antibodies. Here's Why.
A health care worker places a bandaid on the arm of a man who has just been vaccinated.
Since the Delta variant became predominant in the United States on July 7, both scientists and the media alike have been full of mixed messages ("breakthrough infections rare"; "breakthrough infections common"; "vaccines still work"; "vaccines losing their effectiveness") but – if we remember our infectious diseases history- one thing remains clear: immunity is the only way to get through a pandemic.
What Happened in the Past
The 1918 influenza pandemic was far the deadliest respiratory virus pandemic recorded in recent human history with over 50 million deaths (maybe even 100 million deaths, or 3% of the world's population) worldwide. Although they used some of the same measures we are using now (masks, distancing, event closures, as neither testing nor a vaccine existed back then), the deaths slowed only after enough of the population had either acquired immunity through natural infection or died. Indeed, the first influenza vaccine was not developed until 1942, more than 20 years later. As judged by the amount of suffering and death from 1918 influenza (and the deadly Delta surge in India in spring 2021), natural immunity is obviously a terrible way to get through a pandemic.
Similarly, measles was a highly transmissible respiratory virus that led to high levels of immunity among adults who were invariably exposed as children. However, measles led to deaths each year among the nonimmune until a vaccine was developed in 1963, largely restricting current measles outbreaks in the U.S. now to populations who decline to vaccinate. Smallpox also led to high levels of immunity through natural infection, which was often fatal. That's why unleashing smallpox on a largely nonimmune population in the New World was so deadly. Only an effective vaccine – and its administration worldwide, including among populations who declined smallpox vaccine at first via mandates – could control and then eventually eradicate smallpox from Earth.
Fully vaccinated people are already now able to generate some antibodies against all the variants we know of to date, thanks to their bank of memory B cells.
The Delta variant is extremely transmissible, making it unlikely we will ever eliminate or eradicate SARS-CoV-2. Even Australia, which had tried to maintain a COVID-zero nation with masks, distancing, lockdowns, testing and contact tracing before and during the vaccines, ended a strategy aimed at eliminating COVID-19 this week. But, luckily, since highly effective and safe vaccines were developed for COVID-19 less than a year after its advent on a nonimmune population and since vaccines are retaining their effectiveness against severe disease, we have a safe way out of the misery of this pandemic: more and more immunity. "Defanging" SARS-CoV-2 and stripping it of its ability to cause severe disease through immunity will relegate it to the fate of the other four circulating cold-causing coronaviruses, an inconvenience but not a world-stopper.
Immunity Is More Than Antibodies
When we say immunity, we have to be clear that we are talking about cellular immunity and immune memory, not only antibodies. This is a key point. Neutralizing antibodies, which prevent the virus from entering our cells, are generated by the vaccines. But those antibodies will necessarily wane over time since we cannot keep antibodies from every infection and vaccine we have ever seen in the bloodstream (or our blood would be thick as paste!). Vaccines with shorter intervals between doses (like Pfizer vaccines given 3 weeks apart) are likely to have their antibodies wane sooner than vaccines with longer intervals between doses (like Moderna), making mild symptomatic breakthroughs less likely with the Moderna vaccine than the Pfizer during our Delta surge, as a recent Mayo Clinic study showed.
Luckily, the vaccines generate B cells that get relegated to our memory banks and these memory B cells are able to produce high levels of antibodies to fight the virus if they see it again. Amazingly, these memory B cells will actually produce antibodies adapted against the COVID variants if they see a variant in the future, rather than the original antibodies directed against the ancestral strain. This is because memory B cells serve as a blueprint to make antibodies, like the blueprint of a house. If a house needs an extra column (or antibodies need to evolve to work against variants), the blueprint will oblige just as memory B cells will!
One problem with giving a 3rd dose of our current vaccines is that those antibodies won't be adapted towards the variants. Fully vaccinated people are already now able to generate some antibodies against all the variants we know of to date, thanks to their bank of memory B cells. In other words, no variant has evolved to date that completely evades our vaccines. Memory B cells, once generated by either natural infection or vaccination, should be long-lasting.
If memory B cells are formed by a vaccine, they should be as long-lasting as those from natural infection per various human studies. A 2008 Nature study found that survivors of the 1918 influenza pandemic were able to produce antibodies from memory B cells when exposed to the same influenza strain nine decades later. Of note, mild infections (such as the common cold from the cold-causing coronaviruses called 229E, NL63, OC43, and HKU1) may not reliably produce memory B cell immunity like more severe infections caused by SARS-CoV-2.
Right about now, you may be worrying about a super-variant that might yet emerge to evade all our hard-won immune responses. But most immunologists do not think this is very realistic because of T cells. How are T cells different from B Cells? While B cells are like the memory banks to produce antibodies when needed (helped by T cells), T cells will specifically amplify in response to a piece of the virus and help recruit cells to attack the pathogen directly. We likely have T cells to thank for the vaccine's incredible durability in protecting us against severe disease. Data from La Jolla Immunology Institute and UCSF show that the T cell response from the Pfizer vaccine is strong across all the variants.
Think of your spike protein as being comprised of 100 houses with a T cell there to cover each house (to protect you against severe disease). The variants have around 13 mutations along the spike protein so 13 of those T cells won't work, but there are over 80 T cells remaining to protect your "houses" or your body against severe disease.
Although these are theoretical numbers and we don't know exactly the number of T cell antigens (or "epitopes") across the spike protein, one review showed 1400 across the whole virus, with many of those in the spike protein. Another study showed that there were 87 epitopes across the spike protein to which T cells respond, and mutations in one of the variants (beta) took those down to 75. The virus cannot mutate indefinitely in its spike protein and still retain function. This is why it is unlikely we will get a variant that will evade the in-breadth, robust response of our T cells.
Where We Go From Here
So, what does this mean for getting through this pandemic? Immunity and more immunity. For those of us who are vaccinated, if we get exposed to the Delta variant, it will boost our immune response although the memory B cells might take 3-5 days to make new antibodies, which can leave us susceptible to a mild breakthrough infection. That's part of the reason the CDC put back masks for the vaccinated in late July. For those who are unvaccinated, immunity will be gained from Delta but often through terrible ways like severe disease.
The way for the U.S. to determine the need for 3rd shots among those who are not obviously immunocompromised, given the amazing immune memory generated by the vaccines among immunocompetent individuals, is to analyze the cases of the ~6000 individuals who have had severe breakthrough infections among the 171 million Americans fully vaccinated. Define their co-morbidities and age ranges, and boost those susceptible to severe infections (examples could include older people, those with co-morbidities, health care workers, and residents of long-term care facilities). This is an approach likely to be taken by the CDC's Advisory Committee on Immunization Practices.
If immunity is the only way to get through the pandemic and if variants are caused mostly by large populations being unvaccinated, there is not only a moral and ethical imperative but a practical imperative to vaccinate the world in order to keep us all safe. Immunocompetent Americans can boost their antibodies, which may enhance their ability to avoid mild breakthrough infections, but the initial shots still work well against the most important outcomes: hospitalizations and deaths.
There has been no randomized, controlled trial to assess whether three shots vs. two shots meaningfully improve those outcomes. While we ought to trust immune memory to get the immunocompetent in the United States through, we can hasten the end of this pandemic by providing surplus vaccines to poor countries to combat severe disease. Doing so would not only revitalize the role of the U.S. as a global health leader – it would save countless lives.