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."
Drugs That Trick Older People’s Bodies to Behave Younger Might Boost the Effectiveness of a COVID-19 Vaccine
Because vaccination may be less effective in older people, it is imperative to test now whether immune boosters could help the efficacy of a COVID-19 vaccine in the elderly.
In our April 23rd editorial for this magazine, we argued that addressing the COVID-19 pandemic requires that we both fight the SARS-CoV-2 virus and fortify the human hosts who are most vulnerable to it.
Two recent phase 2 studies in older adults have suggested that a new category of drugs called rapalogues can in some cases increase the immunization capacity of older adults.
Because people over 70 account for more than 80 percent of reported COVID-19 deaths globally, this means we must do everything possible to protect our elders.
A range of recent studies have suggested that systemic knobs might metaphorically be turned to slow the cellular aging process, making us better able to fight off the many diseases correlated with aging. These types of systemic changes might be used to stem the specific decline in immunity caused by aging and to increases the biological capacity of elderly people to effectively fight viral infection.
But while helping make older people more resilient in the face of a viral infection is critical, that's not the only way geroscience can help in our fight against this deadly pandemic.
As we move toward hopefully developing one or more COVID-19 vaccines, researchers must more fully appreciate the ways in which traditional vaccines can be less effective in older people than in younger ones.
Repeated studies have shown that the flu vaccine, for example, has lower efficacy in older people than in younger ones. Older people tend to develop fewer antibodies after being vaccinated because a subset of their white blood cells, called T cells, have become less responsive over time. Some inflammatory peptides that increase with aging are also preventing the action of those T cells.
This is why there's a distinct possibility that a future COVD-19 vaccine, particularly one utilizing the traditional attenuated virus approach, could be less effective in older people than in younger ones.
Given the extreme urgency of developing vaccines that work well for everyone, we need to make sure that researchers are exploring all of the ways our elders can be best protected. While generating a vaccine that works equally well for people of all ages would be ideal, we can't count on that.
One way to bridge this gap might be to trick the bodies of older people into behaving as if they are younger just at the moment what a vaccine is delivered by giving them pre-immunization boosters.
Two recent phase 2 studies in older adults have suggested that a new category of drugs called rapalogues can in some cases increase the immunization capacity of older adults. Use of the drug for a short time period before flu shot immunization increased the antibody production for the flu and resulted in a 52 percent decrease in the occurrence of severe diseases needing medical help or hospitalization. This short-term pre-immunization intervention can also decrease the severity of serious respiratory tract infections, the deadliest manifestations of COVID-19, by similar magnitude. These patients also had almost half the incidence of the non-COVID-19 coronaviruses associated with the common cold.
The fact that those people were protected by treatment before hospitalization suggests metformin may have a role in boosting the vaccination of older people.
An inexpensive generic drug called metformin similarly targets the decline in immunity and inflammation (and extends health span and lifespan) in animals and has been used for decades to protect against the flu. A recent paper from a hospital in Wuhan, China showed that mortality of elderly COVID-19 diabetic patients on metformin was 25 percent less than that of patients with diabetes but not on metformin.
Another study from the U.S. showed that COVID-19 patients on metformin had a 20 percent decrease in mortality and lower inflammation. The fact that those people were protected by treatment before hospitalization suggests metformin may have a role in boosting the vaccination of older people.
We don't yet know whether rapalogues or metformin could be used as COVID-19 immunization boosters, not least because we don't have those vaccines. But we can and should make sure that all vaccine trials including older subjects also consider offering a subset of those subjects appropriate doses of rapalogues or metformin to explore whether doing so can boost the efficacy of a given vaccine.
If we weren't in the middle of the worst pandemic in a century, we would have more time to test our vaccines slowly and sequentially. In the context of the current crisis, however, testing whether immunization boosters might increase the efficacy of potential COVID-19 vaccines for older adults is at the very least a hypothesis worth exploring.
How We Can Return to Normal Life in the COVID-19 Era
A crowded baseball stadium is the epitome of "getting back to normal."
I was asked recently when life might return to normal. The question is simple but the answer is complex, with many knowns, lots of known unknowns, and some unknown unknowns. But I'll give it my best shot.
To get the fatality rate down to flu-like levels would require that we cut Covid-19 fatalities down by a factor of 5.
Since I'm human (and thus want my life back), I might be biased toward optimism.
Here's one way to think about it: Is there another infection that causes sickness and death at levels that we tolerate? The answer, of course, is 'yes': influenza.
According to the Centers for Disease Control, from 2010 to 2019, an average of 30 million Americans had the flu each year, leading to an annual average of 37,000 deaths. This works out to an infection-fatality rate, or IFR, of 0.12 percent. We've tolerated that level of illness death from influenza for a century.
Before going on, let's get one thing out of the way: Back in March, Covid-19 wasn't, as some maintained, "like the flu," and it still isn't. Since then, the U.S. has had 3.9 million confirmed Covid-19 cases and 140,000 deaths, for an IFR of 3.6 percent. Taking all the cases — including asymptomatic patients and those with minimal symptoms who were never tested for Covid-19 — into account, the real IFR is probably 0.6 percent, or roughly 5 times that of the flu.
Nonetheless, even a partly effective vaccine, combined with moderately effective medications, could bring Covid-19 numbers down to a tolerable, flu-like, threshold. It's a goal that seems within our reach.
Chronic mask-wearing and physical distancing are not my idea of normal, nor, I would venture to guess, would most other Americans consider these desirable states in which to live. We need both now to achieve some semblance of normalcy, but they're decidedly not normal life. My notion of normal: daily life with no or minimal mask wearing, open restaurants and bars, ballparks with fans, and theaters with audiences.
My projection for when we might get there: perhaps a year from now.
To get the fatality rate down to flu-like levels would require that we cut Covid-19 fatalities down by a factor of 5, via some combination of fewer symptomatic cases and a lower chance that a symptomatic patient will go on to die. How might that happen?
First, we have to make some impact on young people – getting them to follow the public health directives at higher rates than they are currently. The main reason we need to push younger people to stay safe is that they can spread Covid-19 to vulnerable people (those who are older, with underlying health problems). But, once the most vulnerable are protected (through the deployment of some combination of effective medications and a vaccine), the fact that some young people aren't acting safely – or maybe won't take a vaccine themselves – wouldn't cause so much concern. The key is whether the people at highest risk for bad outcomes are protected.
Then there's the vaccine. The first principle: We don't need a 100 percent-effective vaccine injected into 320 million deltoid muscles (in the U.S. alone). Thank God, since it's fanciful to believe that we can have a vaccine that's 100 percent effective, universally available by next summer, and that each and every American agrees to be vaccinated.
How are we doing in our vaccine journey? We've been having some banner days lately, with recent optimistic reports from several of the vaccine companies. In one report, the leading candidate vaccine, the one effort being led by Oxford University, led to both antibodies and a cellular immune response, a very helpful belt-and-suspenders approach that increases the probability of long-lasting immunity. This good news comes on the heels of the positive news regarding the American vaccine being made by Moderna earlier in July.
While every article about vaccines sounds the obligatory cautionary notes, to date we've checked every box on the path to a safe and effective vaccine. We might not get there, but most experts are now predicting an FDA-approvable vaccine (more than 50 percent effective with no show-stopping side effects) by early 2021.
It is true that we don't know how long immunity will last, but that can be a problem to solve later. In this area, time is our friend. If we can get to an effective vaccine that lasts for a year or two, over time we should be able to discover strategies (more vaccine boosters, new and better medications) to address the possibility of waning immunity.
All things considered, I'm going to put my nickel down on the following optimistic scenario: we'll have one, and likely several, vaccines that have been proven to be more than 50 percent effective and safe by January, 2021.
If only that were the finish line.
Once we vaccinate a large fraction of high-risk patients, having a moderate number of unvaccinated people running around won't pose as much threat.
The investments in manufacturing and distribution should pay off, but it's still inconceivable that we'll be able to get vaccines to 300 million people in three to six months. For the 2009 Swine Flu, we managed to vaccinate about 1 in 4 Americans over six months.
So we'll need to prioritize. First in line will likely be the 55 million Americans over 65, and the six to eight million patient-facing healthcare workers. (How to sort priorities among people under 65 with "chronic diseases" will be a toughie.) Vaccinating 80-100 million vulnerable people, plus clinicians, might be achievable by mid-21.
If we can protect vulnerable people with an effective vaccine (with the less vulnerable waiting their turn over a subsequent 6-12 month period), that may be enough to do the trick. (Of course, vulnerable people may also be least likely to develop immunity in response to a vaccine. That could be an Achilles' heel – time will tell.)
Why might that be enough? Once we vaccinate a large fraction of high-risk patients, having a moderate number of unvaccinated people running around won't pose as much threat. Since they're at lower risk, they have a lower chance of getting sick and dying than those who received the vaccine first.
We're likely to have better meds by then, too. Since March, we've discovered two moderately effective medications for Covid-19 — remdesivir and dexamethasone. It seems likely that we'll find others by next summer, perhaps even a treatment that prevents patients from getting ill in the first place. There are many such therapies, ranging from zinc to convalescent plasma, currently being studied.
Moreover, we know that hospitals that are not overrun with Covid-19 have lower mortality rates. If we've gotten a fairly effective vaccine into most high-risk people, the hospitals are unlikely to be overwhelmed – another factor that may help lower the mortality rate to flu-like levels.
All of these factors – vaccination of most vulnerable people, one or two additional effective medications, hospitals and ICU's that aren't overwhelmed – could easily combine to bring the toll of Covid-19 down to something that resembles that of the flu. Then, we should be able to return to normal life.
Whatever the reason, if enough people refuse the vaccine, all bets are off.
What do I worry about? There's the growing anti-vaxxer movement, for one. On top of that, it seems that many Americans worry that a vaccine discovered in record speed won't be safe, or that the FDA approval process will have been corrupted by political influences. Whatever the reason, if enough people refuse the vaccine, all bets are off.
Assuming only high-risk people do get vaccinated, there will still be cases of Covid-19, maybe even mini-outbreaks, well into 2021 and likely 2022. Obviously, that's not ideal, and we should hope for a vaccine that results in the complete eradication of Covid-19. But the point is that, even with flu-like levels of illness and death, we should still be able to achieve "normal."
Hope is not a strategy, as the saying goes. But it is hope, which is more than we've had for a while.