Study Shows “Living Drug” Can Provide a Lasting Cure for Cancer
Doug Olson was 49 when he was diagnosed with chronic lymphocytic leukemia, a blood cancer that strikes 21,000 Americans annually. Although the disease kills most patients within a decade, Olson’s case progressed more slowly, and courses of mild chemotherapy kept him healthy for 13 years. Then, when he was 62, the medication stopped working. The cancer had mutated, his doctor explained, becoming resistant to standard remedies. Harsher forms of chemo might buy him a few months, but their side effects would be debilitating. It was time to consider the treatment of last resort: a bone-marrow transplant.
Olson, a scientist who developed blood-testing instruments, knew the odds. There was only a 50 percent chance that a transplant would cure him. There was a 20 percent chance that the agonizing procedure—which involves destroying the patient’s marrow with chemo and radiation, then infusing his blood with donated stem cells—would kill him. If he survived, he would face the danger of graft-versus-host disease, in which the donor’s cells attack the recipient’s tissues. To prevent it, he would have to take immunosuppressant drugs, increasing the risk of infections. He could end up with pneumonia if one of his three grandchildren caught a sniffle. “I was being pushed into a corner,” Olson recalls, “with very little room to move.”
Soon afterward, however, his doctor revealed a possible escape route. He and some colleagues at the University of Pennsylvania’s Abramson Cancer Center were starting a clinical trial, he said, and Olson—still mostly symptom-free—might be a good candidate. The experimental treatment, known as CAR-T therapy, would use genetic engineering to turn his T lymphocytes (immune cells that guard against viruses and other pathogens) into a weapon against cancer.
In September 2010, technicians took some of Olson’s T cells to a laboratory, where they were programmed with new molecular marching orders and coaxed to multiply into an army of millions. When they were ready, a nurse inserted a catheter into his neck. At the turn of a valve, his soldiers returned home, ready to do battle.
“I felt like I’d won the lottery,” Olson says. But he was only the second person in the world to receive this “living drug,” as the University of Pennsylvania investigators called it. No one knew how long his remission would last.
Three weeks later, Olson was slammed with a 102-degree fever, nausea, and chills. The treatment had triggered two dangerous complications: cytokine release syndrome, in which immune chemicals inflame the patient’s tissues, and tumor lysis syndrome, in which toxins from dying cancer cells overwhelm the kidneys. But the crisis passed quickly, and the CAR-T cells fought on. A month after the infusion, the doctor delivered astounding news: “We can’t find any cancer in your body.”
“I felt like I’d won the lottery,” Olson says. But he was only the second person in the world to receive this “living drug,” as the University of Pennsylvania investigators called it. No one knew how long his remission would last.
An Unexpected Cure
In February 2022, the same cancer researchers reported a remarkable milestone: the trial’s first two patients had survived for more than a decade. Although Olson’s predecessor—a retired corrections officer named Bill Ludwig—died of COVID-19 complications in early 2021, both men had remained cancer-free. And the modified immune cells continued to patrol their territory, ready to kill suspected tumor cells the moment they arose.
“We can now conclude that CAR-T cells can actually cure patients with leukemia,” University of Pennsylvania immunologist Carl June, who spearheaded the development of the technique, told reporters. “We thought the cells would be gone in a month or two. The fact that they’ve survived 10 years is a major surprise.”
Even before the announcement, it was clear that CAR-T therapy could win a lasting reprieve for many patients with cancers that were once a death sentence. Since the Food and Drug Administration approved June’s version (marketed as Kymriah) in 2017, the agency has greenlighted five more such treatments for various types of leukemia, lymphoma, and myeloma. “Every single day, I take care of patients who would previously have been told they had no options,” says Rayne Rouce, a pediatric hematologist/oncologist at Texas Children’s Cancer Center. “Now we not only have a treatment option for those patients, but one that could potentially be the last therapy for their cancer that they’ll ever have to receive.”
Immunologist Carl June, middle, spearheaded development of the CAR-T therapy that gave patients Bill Ludwig, left, and Doug Olson, right, a lengthy reprieve on their terminal cancer diagnoses.
Penn Medicine
Yet the CAR-T approach doesn’t help everyone. So far, it has only shown success for blood cancers—and for those, the overall remission rate is 30 to 40 percent. “When it works, it works extraordinarily well,” says Olson’s former doctor, David Porter, director of Penn’s blood and bone marrow transplant program. “It’s important to know why it works, but it’s equally important to know why it doesn’t—and how we can fix that.”
The team’s study, published in the journal Nature, offers a wealth of data on what worked for these two patients. It may also hold clues for how to make the therapy effective for more people.
Building a Better T Cell
Carl June didn’t set out to cure cancer, but his serendipitous career path—and a personal tragedy—helped him achieve insights that had eluded other researchers. In 1971, hoping to avoid combat in Vietnam, he applied to the U.S. Naval Academy in Annapolis, Maryland. June showed a knack for biology, so the Navy sent him on to Baylor College of Medicine. He fell in love with immunology during a fellowship researching malaria vaccines in Switzerland. Later, the Navy deployed him to the Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center in Seattle to study bone marrow transplantation.
There, June became part of the first research team to learn how to culture T cells efficiently in a lab. After moving on to the National Naval Medical Center in the ’80s, he used that knowledge to combat the newly emerging AIDS epidemic. HIV, the virus that causes the disease, invades T cells and eventually destroys them. June and his post-doc Bruce Levine developed a method to restore patients’ depleted cell populations, using tiny magnetic beads to deliver growth-stimulating proteins. Infused into the body, the new T cells effectively boosted immune function.
In 1999, after leaving the Navy, June joined the University of Pennsylvania. His wife, who’d been diagnosed with ovarian cancer, died two years later, leaving three young children. “I had not known what it was like to be on the other side of the bed,” he recalls. Watching her suffer through grueling but futile chemotherapy, followed by an unsuccessful bone-marrow transplant, he resolved to focus on finding better cancer treatments. He started with leukemia—a family of diseases in which mutant white blood cells proliferate in the marrow.
Cancer is highly skilled at slipping through the immune system’s defenses. T cells, for example, detect pathogens by latching onto them with receptors designed to recognize foreign proteins. Leukemia cells evade detection, in part, by masquerading as normal white blood cells—that is, as part of the immune system itself.
June planned to use a viral vector no one had tried before: HIV.
To June, chimeric antigen receptor (CAR) T cells looked like a promising tool for unmasking and destroying the impostors. Developed in the early ’90s, these cells could be programmed to identify a target protein, and to kill any pathogen that displayed it. To do the programming, you spliced together snippets of DNA and inserted them into a disabled virus. Next, you removed some of the patient’s T cells and infected them with the virus, which genetically hijacked its new hosts—instructing them to find and slay the patient’s particular type of cancer cells. When the T cells multiplied, their descendants carried the new genetic code. You then infused those modified cells into the patient, where they went to war against their designated enemy.
Or that’s what happened in theory. Many scientists had tried to develop therapies using CAR-T cells, but none had succeeded. Although the technique worked in lab animals, the cells either died out or lost their potency in humans.
But June had the advantage of his years nurturing T cells for AIDS patients, as well as the technology he’d developed with Levine (who’d followed him to Penn with other team members). He also planned to use a viral vector no one had tried before: HIV, which had evolved to thrive in human T cells and could be altered to avoid causing disease. By the summer of 2010, he was ready to test CAR-T therapy against chronic lymphocytic leukemia (CLL), the most common form of the disease in adults.
Three patients signed up for the trial, including Doug Olson and Bill Ludwig. A portion of each man’s T cells were reprogrammed to detect a protein found only on B lymphocytes, the type of white blood cells affected by CLL. Their genetic instructions ordered them to destroy any cell carrying the protein, known as CD19, and to multiply whenever they encountered one. This meant the patients would forfeit all their B cells, not just cancerous ones—but regular injections of gamma globulins (a cocktail of antibodies) would make up for the loss.
After being infused with the CAR-T cells, all three men suffered high fevers and potentially life-threatening inflammation, but all pulled through without lasting damage. The third patient experienced a partial remission and survived for eight months. Olson and Ludwig were cured.
Learning What Works
Since those first infusions, researchers have developed reliable ways to prevent or treat the side effects of CAR-T therapy, greatly reducing its risks. They’ve also been experimenting with combination therapies—pairing CAR-T with chemo, cancer vaccines, and immunotherapy drugs called checkpoint inhibitors—to improve its success rate. But CAR-T cells are still ineffective for at least 60 percent of blood cancer patients. And they remain in the experimental stage for solid tumors (including pancreatic cancer, mesothelioma, and glioblastoma), whose greater complexity make them harder to attack.
The new Nature study offers clues that could fuel further advances. The Penn team “profiled these cells at a level where we can almost say, ‘These are the characteristics that a T cell would need to survive 10 years,’” says Rouce, the physician at Texas Children’s Cancer Center.
One surprising finding involves how CAR-T cells change in the body over time. At first, those that Olson and Ludwig received showed the hallmarks of “killer” T-cells (also known as CD8 cells)—highly active lymphocytes bent on exterminating every tumor cell in sight. After several months, however, the population shifted toward “helper” T-cells (or CD4s), which aid in forming long-term immune memory but are normally incapable of direct aggression. Over the years, the numbers swung back and forth, until only helper cells remained. Those cells showed markers suggesting they were too exhausted to function—but in the lab, they were able not only to recognize but to destroy cancer cells.
June and his team suspect that those tired-looking helper cells had enough oomph to kill off any B cells Olson and Ludwig made, keeping the pair’s cancers permanently at bay. If so, that could prompt new approaches to selecting cells for CAR-T therapy. Maybe starting with a mix of cell types—not only CD8s, but CD4s and other varieties—would work better than using CD8s alone. Or perhaps inducing changes in cell populations at different times would help.
Another potential avenue for improvement is starting with healthier cells. Evidence from this and other trials hints that patients whose T cells are more robust to begin with respond better when their cells are used in CAR-T therapy. The Penn team recently completed a clinical trial in which CLL patients were treated with ibrutinib—a drug that enhances T-cell function—before their CAR-T cells were manufactured. The response rate, says David Porter, was “very high,” with most patients remaining cancer-free a year after being infused with the souped-up cells.
Such approaches, he adds, are essential to achieving the next phase in CAR-T therapy: “Getting it to work not just in more people, but in everybody.”
Doug Olson enjoys nature - and having a future.
Penn Medicine
To grasp what that could mean, it helps to talk with Doug Olson, who’s now 75. In the years since his infusion, he has watched his four children forge careers, and his grandkids reach their teens. He has built a business and enjoyed the rewards of semi-retirement. He’s done volunteer and advocacy work for cancer patients, run half-marathons, sailed the Caribbean, and ridden his bike along the sun-dappled roads of Silicon Valley, his current home.
And in his spare moments, he has just sat there feeling grateful. “You don’t really appreciate the effect of having a lethal disease until it’s not there anymore,” he says. “The world looks different when you have a future.”
This article was first published on Leaps.org on March 24, 2022.
3 Futuristic Biotech Programs the U.S. Government Is Funding Right Now
Last month, at a conference celebrating DARPA, the research arm of the Defense Department, FBI Special Agent Edward You declared, "The 21st century will be the revolution of the life sciences."
Biomedical engineer Kevin Zhao has a sensor in his arm and chest that monitors his oxygen level in real time.
Indeed, four years ago, the agency dedicated a new office solely to advancing biotechnology. Its primary goal is to combat bioterrorism, protect U.S. forces, and promote warfighter readiness. But its research could also carry over to improve health care for the general public.
With an annual budget of about $3 billion, DARPA's employees oversee about 250 research and development programs, working with contractors from corporations, universities, and government labs to bring new technologies to life.
Check out these three current programs:
1) IMPLANTABLE SENSORS TO MEASURE OXYGEN, LACTATE, AND GLUCOSE LEVELS IN REAL TIME
Biomedical engineer Kevin Zhao has a sensor in his arm and his chest that monitors his oxygen level in those tissues in real time. With funding from DARPA for the program "In Vivo Nanoplatforms," he developed soft, flexible hydrogels that are injected just beneath the skin to perform the monitoring and that sync to a smartphone app to give the user immediate health insights.
A first-in-man trial for the glucose sensor is now underway in Europe for monitoring diabetics, according to Zhao. Volunteers eat sugary food to spike their glucose levels and prompt the monitor to register the changes.
"If this pans out, with approval from FDA, then consumers could get the sensors implanted in their core to measure their levels of glucose, oxygen, and lactate," Zhao said.
Lactate, especially, interests DARPA because it's a first responder molecule to the onset of trauma, sepsis, and potentially infection.
"The sensor could potentially detect rise of these [body chemistry numbers] and alert the user to prevent onset of dangerous illness."
2) NEAR INSTANTANEOUS VACCINE PROTECTION DURING A PANDEMIC
Traditional vaccines can take months or years to develop, then weeks to become effective once you get it. But when an unknown virus emerges, there's no time to waste.
This program, called P3, envisions a much more ambitious approach to stop a pandemic in its tracks.
"We want to confer near instantaneous protection by doing it a different way – enlist the body as a bioreactor to produce therapeutics," said Col. Matthew Hepburn, the program manager.
So how would it work?
To fight a pandemic, we will need 20,000 doses of a vaccine in 60 days.
If you have antibodies against a certain infection, you'll be protected against that infection. This idea is to discover the genetic code for the antibody to a specific pathogen, manufacture those pieces of DNA and RNA, and then inject the code into a person's arm so the muscle cells will begin producing the required antibodies.
"The amazing thing is that it actually works, at least in animal models," said Hepburn. "The mouse muscles made enough protective antibodies so that the mice were protected."
The next step is to test the approach in humans, which the program will do over the next two years.
But the hard part is actually not discovering the genetic code for highly potent antibodies, according to Hepburn. In fact, researchers already have been able to do so in two to four weeks' time.
"The hard part is once I have an antibody, a large pharma company will say in 2 years, I can make 100-200 doses. Give us 4 years to get to 20,000 doses. That's not good enough," Hepburn said.
To fight a pandemic, we will need 20,000 doses of a vaccine in 60 days.
"We have to fundamentally change the idea that it takes a billion dollars and ten years to make a drug," he concluded. "We're going to do something radically different."
3) RAPID DIAGNOSING OF PATHOGEN EXPOSURE THROUGH EPIGENETICS
Imagine that you come down with a mysterious illness. It could be caused by a virus, bacteria, or in the most extreme catastrophe, a biological agent from a weapon of mass destruction.
What if a portable device existed that could identify--within 30 minutes—which pathogen you have been exposed to and when? It would be pretty remarkable for soldiers in the field, but also for civilians seeking medical treatment.
This is the lofty ambition of a DARPA program called Epigenetic Characterization and Observation, or ECHO.
Its success depends on a biological phenomenon known as the epigenome. While your DNA is relatively immutable, your environment can modify how your DNA is expressed, leaving marks of exposure that register within seconds to minutes; these marks can persist for decades. It's thanks to the epigenome that identical twins – who share identical DNA – can differ in health, temperament, and appearance.
These three mice are genetically identical. Epigenetic differences, however, result in vastly different observed characteristics.
Reading your epigenetic marks could theoretically reveal a time-stamped history of your body's environmental exposures.
Researchers in the ECHO program plan to create a database of signatures for exposure events, so that their envisioned device will be able to quickly scan someone's epigenome and refer to the database to sort out a diagnosis.
"One difficult part is to put a timestamp on this result, in addition to the sign of which exposure it was -- to tell us when this exposure happened," says Thomas Thomou, a contract scientist who is providing technical assistance to the ECHO program manager.
Other questions that remain up in the air for now: Do all humans have the same epigenetic response to the same exposure events? Is it possible to distinguish viral from bacterial exposures? Does dose and duration of exposure affect the signature of epigenome modification?
The program will kick off in January 2019 and is planned to last four years, as long as certain milestones of development are reached along the way. The desired prototype would be a simple device that any untrained person could operate by taking a swab or a fingerprick.
"In an outbreak," says Dr. Thomou, "it will help everyone on the ground immediately to have a rapidly deployable machine that will give you very quick answers to issues that could have far-reaching ramifications for public health safety."
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.
Your Online Therapist Will Message You Now
For years, Jenna Sauber took advantage of traditional therapy, setting an appointment with a mental health professional to help her through various life and relationship issues.
"The traditional model of therapy suffers from access barriers that keep enormous numbers of people from getting the care they need."
But when Sauber, 33, needed help extricating herself from a friendship that was becoming toxic, she tried another route of therapy. Life was getting busy for the communications professional from Washington D.C., and Sauber decided it was time to try something new – signing up for an online therapy smartphone app.
She isn't the only one trying therapy on-the-go. The online mental health industry has been booming in recent years, and technology companies – even giants such as Apple and Google – are sensing an opportunity to serve a market that wants to tend to their mental health wherever they are. Some are even tapping virtual reality used with a smartphone to help fight alcohol and nicotine addiction.
For those seeking a sympathetic ear – or text – companies such as Woebot offer a mental health chatbot to help patients relieve their anxiety or depression. Other companies, like Better Help and Talkspace, provide licensed mental health professionals who are available to connect with a patient throughout the day.
Recently, Olympic swimmer Michael Phelps became a brand ambassador for Talkspace after he disclosed his own struggle with depression.
Since Talkspace launched in 2012 by two psychologists, the company says it has worked with more than one million people seeking help.
How It Works
Potential clients fill out a questionnaire, detailing their mental health needs, and are connected with a professional whose specialties align with those needs. Basic text messaging packages are often offered by online therapy companies, as well as live-conversation packages and couples therapy. The average cost of these packages can vary and is usually billed weekly, with the ability to discontinue at any time.
Dr. Neil Lieberman, the Chief Medical Officer of Talkspace, is a board-certified psychiatrist. His background includes the oversight of inmates with severe psychological issues. One of the biggest advantages of online therapy, he says, is its accessibility. More than 70 percent of Talkspace users have never before been in therapy.
"It's a promising, but largely untested way to receive care."
"The traditional model of therapy – brick-and-mortar, 45-minute sessions – suffers from access barriers that keep enormous numbers of people from getting the care they need," Dr. Lieberman says. "Talkspace makes it possible for people to enjoy all the benefits of traditional therapy for a fraction of the cost, and without the need to schedule an appointment, travel to an office or get time off work."
Is It Effective?
This industry, while fast-growing, is still young. Psychiatric professionals are still trying to gauge its success, and whether it's providing the support its clients seek.
Dr. Vaile Wright, a licensed psychologist and the director of research and special projects with the American Psychological Association, says there isn't a lot of research available regarding online therapy.
"It's a promising, but largely untested way to receive care," says Wright.
She describes a spectrum of online therapy-type products available to consumers, ranging from meditation apps to videoconferencing services with a live therapist.
"There may be someone who doesn't necessarily need a mental health diagnosis but could use the mindfulness app to really feel more centered. What we generally see and what we think is probably effective is the use of these apps in conjunction or as an adjunct to a face-to-face ongoing relationship."
The APA offers a set of guidelines for professionals and for consumers that highlight issues that potential patients should consider before choosing online therapy, along with research material and other sources for help, depending on the condition.
There are still a lot of unknowns about online therapy, including potential security, confidentiality, privacy laws, and emergency situations, Wright says. "Consumers do need to be aware of that."
Lieberman says that the Talkspace app and website is encrypted to protect information. The company has also been certified as HIPAA compliant, meaning that the company must have a system in place to protect patient information.
"We take privacy, security, and confidentiality very seriously," he says.
For Sauber and her problematic friendship, online therapy was ultimately a let-down.
"She was very nice," Sauber says of her app therapist. "She would check in twice a day, once during the day and then at night. I'd type out what was going on and she would chime in that night or the next morning. It wasn't truly real-time unless you happened to be online with her window. I found that I was typing in huge paragraphs of what was happening and then me waiting for her to respond." Eventually, Sauber left the friendship on her own and quit the app.
When she decided to get help for sleeping issues last fall, she found her way back to a traditional therapist. And although her schedule was still tight, she was able to schedule FaceTime sessions with the therapist, which helped. The sleep issues, she felt, required a relationship with a live therapist who could notice how her body was responding to stressors.
Wright says that the live aspect of traditional therapy can be instructive in guiding a patient's care.
"Being face-to-face allows a therapist to pick up on body language. Maybe a person looks away when they're talking about a particular topic, or somebody's affect doesn't match up with the content of what they're talking about. For example, they're talking about something that's traumatic and yet they're smiling. That kind of nuance can be lost in texts or even e-mails."
Still, Sauber said she could see the benefits of the apps for different types of personalities and situations.
"I can see it being helpful for people who may not be comfortable being in person with someone because they're shy or just uncomfortable about their body language or may be just better communicating behind a screen," she said.
As far as the future of this kind of therapy, Lieberman says that Talkspace is hard at work expanding its network of clinicians and investing in research and science. The company is also working to develop partnerships with employers and health plans to offer the service to more people.
"Our intention to is to make therapy – a profession we think can lead to meaningful change in anybody's life – as common as going to the dentist or hitting the gym."
"These technology-based approaches can supplement the face-to-face work that you do."
[Correction: An earlier version of this article mistakenly implied that the company Woebot offers licensed mental health professionals to speak with patients. Woebot offers a chatbot service, a fully automated conversational agent, to help patients with anxiety and depression.]