Paralyzed By Polio, This British Tea Broker Changed the Course Of Medical History Forever
In December 1958, on a vacation with his wife in Kenya, a 28-year-old British tea broker named Robin Cavendish became suddenly ill. Neither he nor his wife Diana knew it at the time, but Robin's illness would change the course of medical history forever.
Robin was rushed to a nearby hospital in Kenya where the medical staff delivered the crushing news: Robin had contracted polio, and the paralysis creeping up his body was almost certainly permanent. The doctors placed Robin on a ventilator through a tracheotomy in his neck, as the paralysis from his polio infection had rendered him unable to breathe on his own – and going off the average life expectancy at the time, they gave him only three months to live. Robin and Diana (who was pregnant at the time with their first child, Jonathan) flew back to England so he could be admitted to a hospital. They mentally prepared to wait out Robin's final days.
But Robin did something unexpected when he returned to the UK – just one of many things that would astonish doctors over the next several years: He survived. Diana gave birth to Jonathan in February 1959 and continued to visit Robin regularly in the hospital with the baby. Despite doctors warning that he would soon succumb to his illness, Robin kept living.
After a year in the hospital, Diana suggested something radical: She wanted Robin to leave the hospital and live at home in South Oxfordshire for as long as he possibly could, with her as his nurse. At the time, this suggestion was unheard of. People like Robin who depended on machinery to keep them breathing had only ever lived inside hospital walls, as the prevailing belief was that the machinery needed to keep them alive was too complicated for laypeople to operate. But Diana and Robin were up for the challenges – and the risks. Because his ventilator ran on electricity, if the house were to unexpectedly lose power, Diana would either need to restore power quickly or hand-pump air into his lungs to keep him alive.
Robin's wheelchair was not only the first of its kind; it became the model for the respiratory wheelchairs that people still use today.
In an interview as an adult, Jonathan Cavendish reflected on his parents' decision to live outside the hospital on a ventilator: "My father's mantra was quality of life," he explained. "He could have stayed in the hospital, but he didn't think that was as good of a life as he could manage. He would rather be two minutes away from death and living a full life."
After a few years of living at home, however, Robin became tired of being confined to his bed. He longed to sit outside, to visit friends, to travel – but had no way of doing so without his ventilator. So together with his friend Teddy Hall, a professor and engineer at Oxford University, the two collaborated in 1962 to create an entirely new invention: a battery-operated wheelchair prototype with a ventilator built in. With this, Robin could now venture outside the house – and soon the Cavendish family became famous for taking vacations. It was something that, by all accounts, had never been done before by someone who was ventilator-dependent. Robin and Hall also designed a van so that the wheelchair could be plugged in and powered during travel. Jonathan Cavendish later recalled a particular family vacation that nearly ended in disaster when the van broke down outside of Barcelona, Spain:
"My poor old uncle [plugged] my father's chair into the wrong socket," Cavendish later recalled, causing the electricity to short. "There was fire and smoke, and both the van and the chair ground to a halt." Johnathan, who was eight or nine at the time, his mother, and his uncle took turns hand-pumping Robin's ventilator by the roadside for the next thirty-six hours, waiting for Professor Hall to arrive in town and repair the van. Rather than being panicked, the Cavendishes managed to turn the vigil into a party. Townspeople came to greet them, bringing food and music, and a local priest even stopped by to give his blessing.
Robin had become a pioneer, showing the world that a person with severe disabilities could still have mobility, access, and a fuller quality of life than anyone had imagined. His mission, along with Hall's, then became gifting this independence to others like himself. Robin and Hall raised money – first from the Ernest Kleinwort Charitable Trust, and then from the British Department of Health – to fund more ventilator chairs, which were then manufactured by Hall's company, Littlemore Scientific Engineering, and given to fellow patients who wanted to live full lives at home. Robin and Hall used themselves as guinea pigs, testing out different models of the chairs and collaborating with scientists to create other devices for those with disabilities. One invention, called the Possum, allowed paraplegics to control things like the telephone and television set with just a nod of the head. Robin's wheelchair was not only the first of its kind; it became the model for the respiratory wheelchairs that people still use today.
Robin went on to enjoy a long and happy life with his family at their house in South Oxfordshire, surrounded by friends who would later attest to his "down-to-earth" personality, his sense of humor, and his "irresistible" charm. When he died peacefully at his home in 1994 at age 64, he was considered the world's oldest-living person who used a ventilator outside the hospital – breaking yet another barrier for what medical science thought was possible.
23andMe Is Using Customers’ Genetic Data to Develop Drugs. Is This Brilliant or Dubious?
Leading direct-to-consumer (DTC) genetic testing companies are continuously unveiling novel ways to leverage their vast stores of genetic data.
"23andMe will tell you what diseases you have and then sell you the drugs to treat them."
As reported last week, 23andMe's latest concept is to develop and license new drugs using the data of consumers who have opted in to let their information be used for research. To date, over 10 million people have used the service and around 80 percent have opted in, making its database one of the largest in the world.
Culture researcher Dr. Julia Creet is one of the foremost experts on the DTC genetic testing industry, and in her forthcoming book, The Genealogical Sublime, she bluntly examines whether such companies' motives and interests are in sync with those of consumers.
Leapsmag caught up with Creet about the latest news and the wider industry's implications for health and privacy.
23andMe has just announced that it plans to license a newly developed anti-inflammatory drug, the first one created using its customers' genetic data, to Almirall, a pharma company in Spain. What's your take?
I think this development is the next step in the evolution of the company and its "double-sided" marketing model. In the past, as it enticed customers to give it their DNA, it sold the results and the medical information divulged by customers to other drug companies. Now it is positioning itself to reap the profits of a new model by developing treatments itself.
Given that there are many anti-inflammatory drugs on the market already, whatever Almirall produces might not have much of an impact. We might see this canny move as a "proof of concept," that 23andMe has learned how to "leverage" its genetic data without having to sell them to a third party. In a way, the privacy provisions will be much less complicated, and the company stands to attract investment as it turns itself into [a pseudo pharmaceutical company], a "pharma-psuedocal" company.
Emily Drabant Conley, the president of business development, has said that 23andMe is pursuing other drug compounds and may conduct their own clinical trials rather than licensing them out to their existing research partners. The end goal, it seems, is to make direct-to-consumer DNA testing to drug production and sales back to that same consumer base a seamless and lucrative circle. You have to admit it's a brilliant business model. 23andMe will tell you what diseases you have and then sell you the drugs to treat them.
In your new book, you describe how DTC genetic testing companies have capitalized on our innate human desire to connect with or ancestors and each other. I quote you: "This industry has taken that potent, spiritual, all-too-human need to belong... and monetized it in a particularly exploitative way." But others argue that DTC genetic testing companies are merely providing a service in exchange for fair-market compensation. So where does exploitation come into the picture?
Yes, the industry provides a fee for service, but that's only part of the story. The rest of the story reveals a pernicious industry that hides its business model behind the larger science project of health and heredity. All of the major testing companies play on the idea of "lack," that we can't know who we are unless we buy information about ourselves. When you really think about it, "Who do you think you are?" is a pernicious question that suggests that we don't or can't know who we or to whom we are related without advanced data searches and testing. This existential question used to be a philosophical question; now the answers are provided by databases that acquire more valuable information than they provide in the exchange.
"It's a brilliant business model that exploits consumer naiveté."
As you've said before, consumers are actually paying to be the product because the companies are likely to profit more from selling their genetic data. Could you elaborate?
The largest databases, AncestryDNA and 23andMe, have signed lucrative agreements with biotech companies that pay them for the de-identified data of their customers. What's so valuable is the DNA combined with the family relationships. Consumers provide the family relationships and the companies link and extrapolate the results to larger and larger family trees. Combined with the genetic markers for certain diseases, or increased susceptibility to certain diseases, these databases are very valuable for biotech research.
None of that value will ever be returned to consumers except in the form of for-profit drugs. Ancestry, in particular, has removed all information about its "research partners" from its website, making it very difficult to see how it is profiting from its third-party sales. 23andMe is more open about its "two-sided business model," but encourages consumers to donate their information to science. It's a brilliant business model that exploits consumer naiveté.
A WIRED journalist wrote that "23andMe has been sharing insights gleaned from consented customer data with GSK and at least six other pharmaceutical and biotechnology firms for the past three and a half years." Is this a consumer privacy risk?
I don't see that 23andMe did anything to which consumers didn't consent, albeit through arguably unreadable terms and conditions. The part that worries me more is the 300 phenotype data points that the company has collected on its consumers through longitudinal surveys designed, as Anne Wojcicki, CEO and Co-founder of 23andMe, put it, "to circumvent medical records and just self-report."
Everyone is focused on the DNA, but it's the combination of genetic samples, genealogical information and health records that is the most potent dataset, and 23andMe has figured out a way to extract all three from consumers.
Edible Silverware Is the Next Big Thing in Sustainable Eating
Sure, you may bring a reusable straw when you go out to eat. But what about digesting your silverware at the restaurant? The future is already here.
Edible cutlery feels like a natural progression post-reusable straw.
Air New Zealand just added the new edible coffee cup Twiice into their in-flight service. Made from vanilla, wheat flower, sugar, egg and vanilla essence, the Twiice cups will be standard issue for the international airline.
On the ground, the new, award-winning startup IncrEDIBLESpoon has shipped more than a quarter million edible scoopers. The spoons are all-natural, vegan, and made from wheat, oat, corn, chickpea and barley.
The technological breakthrough is in creating tasty, mass-market material durable enough for delivery in an assembly line environment like airplane service, as well as stable enough to hold a hot cup of coffee or a freezing scoop of ice cream. Twiice cups can last several hours after hot coffee is added, while IncrEDIBLESpoon cutlery holds up to 45 minutes.
"We already caught the interest of a couple major ice cream chains," says Dinesh Tadepalli, co-founder of the IncrEDIBLESpoon parent company Planeteer. "If all goes well, one of them will test out our spoons at their scoop shop early this year."
Next Up
Edible cutlery feels like a natural progression post-reusable straw. And more is already on the menu.
The coffee cup company Twiice is already planning on expanding. Co-founder Jamie Cashmore says other serving items are coming later this year.
IncrEDIBLESpoon is also getting into more utensils. "We plan to mass produce the complete set by year's end: Edible straws, edible forks and edible coffee stirrers," Tadepalli says.
Most notably, Twiice's partner Air New Zealand sees the coffee cup as just a start to other sustainable solutions. The airline estimates it currently serves eight million cups of coffee annually. It's even suggesting customers bring their own reusable cup to the plane – though that isn't as ergonomic nor as attractive as eating everything you are served.
Open Questions
Making everything edible has a few challenges. First is cultural acceptance: With respect to current success, changing eating habits will require going beyond eco-focused and curious eaters.
Second, it's unclear if the short-term economics will add up in favor of airline carriers and other companies. Like alternative fuel, organizations will be more likely to adopt new science when it doesn't require a retrofitting or expensive change to their current business model – even if it does create long-term benefits.
The changes will likely be lopsided, influencing cultures at different times. Airplanes are a great start, as passengers are a captive audience interested in removing waste as soon as possible.
"Imagine eating a black pepper spoon after your soup or a chocolate spoon after your ice cream?"
We can expect edible cutlery to make an easier impact with certain cultures or foods. For instance, injera, the spongy Ethiopian bread, has served as an African plate of sorts for years. It makes sense that IncrEDIBLESpoon's four flavors, Salt, Masala, Spinach and Root, all fit in another bread-as-plate friendly culture: Indian.
Coffee and desserts sound like a good bet for now, though, especially for foodies. "People are curious to try edible spoons as they never heard or experienced them before," Tadepalli says. "Imagine eating a black pepper spoon after your soup or a chocolate spoon after your ice cream?"