Society Needs Regulations to Prevent Research Abuses

Society Needs Regulations to Prevent Research Abuses

A tension exists between scientists/doctors and government regulators.

(© wladimir1804/Fotolia)


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Robert Klitzman
Robert Klitzman, MD, is a professor of psychiatry at the Vagelos College of Physicians and Surgeons and the Joseph Mailman School of Public Health, and the director of the Masters in Bioethics program at Columbia University. He has published over 130 scientific journal articles and eight books, including When Doctors Become Patients; A Year-Long Night: Tales of a Medical Internship; In a House of Dreams and Glass: Becoming a Psychiatrist; Being Positive: The Lives of Men and Women With HIV; The Trembling Mountain: A Personal Account of Kuru, Cannibals and Mad Cow Disease; Mortal Secrets: Truth and Lies in the Age of AIDS (with Ronald Bayer); Am I My Genes? Confronting Fate and Other Genetic Journeys; and The Ethics Police?: The Struggle to Make Human Research Safe. He has received numerous awards for his work, is a Distinguished Fellow of the American Psychiatric Association, a member of the Council on Foreign Relations, and a regular contributor to the New York Times and CNN.
Can an “old school” vaccine address global inequities in Covid-19 vaccination?

Scientists at Baylor College of Medicine developed a vaccine called Corbevax that, unlike mRNA vaccines, can be mass produced using technology already in place in low- and middle-income countries. It's now being administered in India to children aged 12-14.

When the COVID-19 pandemic began invading the world in late 2019, Peter Hotez and Maria Elena Bottazzi set out to create a low-cost vaccine that would help inoculate populations in low- and middle-income countries. The scientists, with their prior experience of developing inexpensive vaccines for the world’s poor, had anticipated that the global rollout of Covid-19 jabs would be marked with several inequities. They wanted to create a patent-free vaccine to bridge this gap, but the U.S. government did not seem impressed, forcing the researchers to turn to private philanthropies for funds.

Hotez and Bottazzi, both scientists at the Texas Children’s Hospital Center for Vaccine Development at Baylor College of Medicine, raised about $9 million in private funds. Meanwhile, the U.S. government’s contribution stood at $400,000.

“That was a very tough time early on in the pandemic, you know, trying to do the work and raise the money for it at the same time,” says Hotez, who was nominated in February for a Nobel Peace Prize with Bottazzi for their COVID-19 vaccine. He adds that at the beginning of the pandemic, governments emphasized speed, innovation and rapidly immunizing populations in North America and Europe with little consideration for poorer countries. “We knew this [vaccine] was going to be the answer to global vaccine inequality, but I just wish the policymakers had felt the same,” says Hotez.

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Puja Changoiwala
Puja Changoiwala is an award-winning journalist and author based in Mumbai. She writes about the intersections of gender, crime, technology, social justice and human rights in India. She tweets @cpuja.
This Resistance Fighter Invented Dialysis in Nazi-Occupied Holland

When Willem Johan Kolff invented dialysis, the "father" of artificial organs was just getting started.

One of the Netherlands’ most famous pieces of pop culture is “Soldier of Orange.” It’s the title of the country’s most celebrated war memoir, movie and epic stage musical, all of which detail the exploits of the nation’s resistance fighters during World War II.

Willem Johan Kolff was a member of the Dutch resistance, but he doesn’t rate a mention in the “Solider of Orange” canon. Yet his wartime toils in a rural backwater not only changed medicine, but the world.

Kolff had been a physician less than two years before Germany invaded the Netherlands in May 1940. He had been engaged in post-graduate studies at the University of Gronigen but withdrew because he refused to accommodate the demands of the Nazi occupiers. Kolff’s Jewish supervisor made an even starker choice: He committed suicide.

After his departure from the university, Kolff took a job managing a small hospital in Kampen. Located 50 miles from the heavily populated coastal region, the facility was far enough away from the prying eyes of Germans that not only could Kolff care for patients, he could hide fellow resistance fighters and even Jewish refugees in relative safety. Kolff coached many of them to feign convincing terminal illnesses so the Nazis would allow them to remain in the hospital.

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Ron Shinkman
Ron Shinkman is a veteran journalist whose work has appeared in the New England Journal of Medicine publication Catalyst, California Health Report, Fierce Healthcare, and many other publications. He has been a finalist for the prestigious NIHCM Foundation print journalism award twice in the past five years. Shinkman also served as Los Angeles Bureau Chief for Modern Healthcare and as a staff reporter for the Los Angeles Business Journal. He has an M.A. in English from California State University and a B.A. in English from UCLA.