A retrovirus illustration.
Even with groundbreaking advances in cancer treatment and research over the past two centuries, the problem remains that some cancer does not respond to treatment. A subset of patients experience recurrence or metastasis, even when the original tumor is detected at an early stage.
"Why do some tumors evolve into metastatic disease that is then capable of spreading, while other tumors do not?"
Moreover, doctors are not able to tell in advance which patients will respond to treatment and which will not. This means that many patients endure conventional cancer therapies, like countless rounds of chemo and radiation, that do not ultimately increase their likelihood of survival.
Researchers are beginning to understand why some tumors respond to treatment and others do not. The answer appears to lie in the strange connection between human life at its earliest stages — and retroviruses. A retrovirus is different than a regular virus in that its RNA is reverse-transcribed into DNA, which makes it possible for its genetic material to be integrated into a host's genome, and passed on to subsequent generations.
Researchers have shown that reactivation of retroviral sequences is associated with the survival of developing embryos. Certain retroviral sequences must be expressed around the 8-cell stage for successful embryonic development. Active expression of retroviral sequences is required for proper functioning of human embryonic stem cells. These sequences must then shut down at the later state, or the embryo will fail to develop. And here's where things get really interesting: If specific stem cell-associated retroviral sequences become activated again later in life, they seem to play a role in some cancers becoming lethal.
"Eight to 10 million years ago, at the time when we became primates, the population was infected with a virus."
While some retroviral sequences in our genome contribute to the restriction of viral infection and appear to have contributed to the development of the placenta, they can also, if expressed at the wrong time, drive the development of cancer stem cells. Described as the "beating hearts" of treatment-resistant tumors, cancer stem cells are robust and long-living, and they can maintain the ability to proliferate indefinitely.
This apparent connection has inspired Gennadi V. Glinsky, a research scientist at the Institute of Engineering in Medicine at UC San Diego, to find better ways to diagnose and treat metastatic cancer. Glinsky specializes in the development of new technologies, methods, and system integration approaches for personalized genomics-guided prevention and precision therapy of cancer and other common human disorders. We spoke with him about his work and the exciting possibilities it may open up for cancer patients. This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.
What key questions have driven your research in this area?
I was thinking for years that the major mysteries are: Why do some tumors evolve into metastatic disease that is then capable of spreading, while other tumors do not? What explains some cancer cells' ability to get into the blood or lymph nodes and be able to survive in this very foreign, hostile environment of circulatory channels, and then be able to escape and take root elsewhere in the body?
"If you detect conventional cancer early, and treat it early, it will be cured. But with cancer involving stem cells, even if you diagnose it early, it will come back."
When we were able to do genomic analysis on enough early stage cancers, we arrived at an alternative concept of cancer that starts in the stem cells. Stem cells exist throughout our bodies, so in the case of cancer starting in stem cells you will have metastatic properties … because that's what stem cells do. They can travel throughout the body, they can make any other type of cell or resemble them.
So there are basically two types of cancer: conventional non-stem cell cancer and stem cell-like cancer. If you detect conventional cancer early, and treat it early, it will be cured. But with cancer involving stem cells, even if you diagnose it early, it will come back.
What causes some cancer to originate in stem cells?
Cancer stem cells possess stemness [or the ability to self-renew, differentiate, and survive chemical and physical insults]. Stemness is driven by the reactivation of retroviral sequences that have been integrated into the human genome.
Tell me about these retroviral sequences.
Eight to 10 million years ago, at the time when we became primates, the population was infected with a virus. Part of the population survived and the virus was integrated into our primate ancestors' genome. These are known as human endogenous retroviruses, or HERVs. The DNA of the host cells became carriers of these retroviral sequences, and whenever the host cells multiply, they carry the sequences in them and pass them on to future generations.
This pattern of infection and integration of retroviral sequences has happened thousands of times during our evolutionary history. As a result, eight percent of the human genome is derived from these different retroviral sequences.
We've found that some HERVs are expressed in some cancers. For example, 10-15 percent of prostate cancer is stem cell-like. But at first it was not understood what this HERV expression meant.
Gennadi V. Glinsky, a research scientist at the Institute of Engineering in Medicine at UC San Diego.
(Courtesy)
How have you endeavored to solve this in your lab?
We were trying to track down metastatic prostate cancer. We found a molecular signature of prostate cancer that made the prostate tumors look like stem cells. And those were the ones likely to fail cancer therapy. Then we applied this signature to other types of cancers and we found that uniformly, tumors that exhibit stemness fail therapy.
Then in 2014, several breakthrough papers came out that linked the activation of the retroviral sequences in human embryonic stem cells and in human embryo development. When I read these papers, it occurred to me that if these retroviral sequences are required for pluripotency in human embryonic stem cells, they must be involved in stem cell-resembling human cancer that's likely to fail therapy.
What was one of the biggest aha moments in your cancer research?
Several major labs around the U.S. took advantage of The Cancer Genome Anatomy Project, which made it possible to have access to about 12,000 individual human tumors across a spectrum of 30 or so cancer types. This is the largest set of tumors that's ever been made available in a comprehensive and state of the art way. So we now know all there is to know about the genetics of these tumors, including the long-term clinical outcome.
"When we cross-referenced these 10,713 human cancer survival genes to see how many are part of the retroviral network in human cells, we found that the answer was 97 percent!"
These labs identified 10,713 human genes that were associated with the likelihood of patients surviving or dying after [cancer] treatment. I call them the human cancer survival genes, and there are two classes of them: one whose high expression in tumors correlates with an increased likelihood of survival and one whose high expression in tumors correlates with a decreased likelihood of survival.
When we cross-referenced these 10,713 human cancer survival genes to see how many are part of the retroviral network in human cells, we found that the answer was 97 percent!
How will all of this new knowledge change how cancer is treated?
To make cancer stem cells vulnerable to treatment, you need to interfere with stemness and the stemness network. And to do this, you would need to identify the retroviral component of the network, and interfere with this component therapeutically.
The real breakthrough will come when we start to treat these early stage stem cell-like cancers with stem cell-targeting therapy that we are trying to develop. And with our ability to detect the retroviral genome activation, we will be able to detect stem cell-like cancer very early on.
How far away are we from being able to apply this information clinically?
We have two molecule [treatment] candidates. We know that they efficiently interfere with the stemness program in the cells. The road to clinical trials is typically a long one, but since we're clear about our targets, it's a shorter road. We would like to say it's two to three years until we can start a human trial.
Recent advancements in engineering mean that the first preclinical trials for an artificial kidney could happen soon.
Still, the devices aren’t ready for testing in humans—yet. But recent advancements in engineering mean that the first preclinical trials for an artificial kidney could happen soon, according to Jonathan Himmelfarb, a nephrologist at the University of Washington.
“It would liberate people with kidney failure,” Himmelfarb says.
An engineering marvel
Compared to the heart or the brain, the kidney doesn’t get as much respect from the medical profession, but its job is far more complex. “It does hundreds of different things,” says UCLA’s Ira Kurtz.
Kurtz would know. He’s worked as a nephrologist for 37 years, devoting his career to helping those with kidney disease. While his colleagues in cardiology and endocrinology have seen major advances in the development of artificial hearts and insulin pumps, little has changed for patients on hemodialysis. The machines remain bulky and require large volumes of a liquid called dialysate to remove toxins from a patient’s blood, along with gallons of purified water. A kidney transplant is the next best thing to someone’s own, functioning organ, but with over 600,000 Americans on dialysis and only about 100,000 kidney transplants each year, most of those in kidney failure are stuck on dialysis.
Part of the lack of progress in artificial kidney design is the sheer complexity of the kidney’s job. Each of the 45 different cell types in the kidney do something different.
Part of the lack of progress in artificial kidney design is the sheer complexity of the kidney’s job. To build an artificial heart, Kurtz says, you basically need to engineer a pump. An artificial pancreas needs to balance blood sugar levels with insulin secretion. While neither of these tasks is simple, they are fairly straightforward. The kidney, on the other hand, does more than get rid of waste products like urea and other toxins. Each of the 45 different cell types in the kidney do something different, helping to regulate electrolytes like sodium, potassium, and phosphorous; maintaining blood pressure and water balance; guiding the body’s hormonal and inflammatory responses; and aiding in the formation of red blood cells.
There's been little progress for patients during Ira Kurtz's 37 years as a nephrologist. Artificial kidneys would change that.
UCLA
Dialysis primarily filters waste, and does so well enough to keep someone alive, but it isn’t a true artificial kidney because it doesn’t perform the kidney’s other jobs, according to Kurtz, such as sensing levels of toxins, wastes, and electrolytes in the blood. Due to the size and water requirements of existing dialysis machines, the equipment isn’t portable. Physicians write a prescription for a certain duration of dialysis and assess how well it’s working with semi-regular blood tests. The process of dialysis itself, however, is conducted blind. Doctors can’t tell how much dialysis a patient needs based on kidney values at the time of treatment, says Meera Harhay, a nephrologist at Drexel University in Philadelphia.
But it’s the impact of dialysis on their day-to-day lives that creates the most problems for patients. Only one-quarter of those on dialysis are able to remain employed (compared to 85% of similar-aged adults), and many report a low quality of life. Having more flexibility in life would make a major different to her patients, Harhay says.
“Almost half their week is taken up by the burden of their treatment. It really eats away at their freedom and their ability to do things that add value to their life,” she says.
Art imitates life
The challenge for artificial kidney designers was how to compress the kidney’s natural functions into a portable, wearable, or implantable device that wouldn’t need constant access to gallons of purified and sterilized water. The other universal challenge they faced was ensuring that any part of the artificial kidney that would come in contact with blood was kept germ-free to prevent infection.
As part of the 2021 KidneyX Prize, a partnership between the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services and the American Society of Nephrology, inventors were challenged to create prototypes for artificial kidneys. Himmelfarb’s team at the University of Washington’s Center for Dialysis Innovation won the prize by focusing on miniaturizing existing technologies to create a portable dialysis machine. The backpack sized AKTIV device (Ambulatory Kidney to Increase Vitality) will recycle dialysate in a closed loop system that removes urea from blood and uses light-based chemical reactions to convert the urea to nitrogen and carbon dioxide, which allows the dialysate to be recirculated.
Himmelfarb says that the AKTIV can be used when at home, work, or traveling, which will give users more flexibility and freedom. “If you had a 30-pound device that you could put in the overhead bins when traveling, you could go visit your grandkids,” he says.
Kurtz’s team at UCLA partnered with the U.S. Kidney Research Corporation and Arkansas University to develop a dialysate-free desktop device (about the size of a small printer) as the first phase of a progression that will he hopes will lead to something small and implantable. Part of the reason for the artificial kidney’s size, Kurtz says, is the number of functions his team are cramming into it. Not only will it filter urea from blood, but it will also use electricity to help regulate electrolyte levels in a process called electrodeionization. Kurtz emphasizes that these additional functions are what makes his design a true artificial kidney instead of just a small dialysis machine.
One version of an artificial kidney.
UCLA
“It doesn't have just a static function. It has a bank of sensors that measure chemicals in the blood and feeds that information back to the device,” Kurtz says.
Other startups are getting in on the game. Nephria Bio, a spinout from the South Korean-based EOFlow, is working to develop a wearable dialysis device, akin to an insulin pump, that uses miniature cartridges with nanomaterial filters to clean blood (Harhay is a scientific advisor to Nephria). Ian Welsford, Nephria’s co-founder and CTO, says that the device’s design means that it can also be used to treat acute kidney injuries in resource-limited settings. These potentials have garnered interest and investment in artificial kidneys from the U.S. Department of Defense.
For his part, Burton is most interested in an implantable device, as that would give him the most freedom. Even having a regular outpatient procedure to change batteries or filters would be a minor inconvenience to him.
“Being plugged into a machine, that’s not mimicking life,” he says.
This article was first published by Leaps.org on May 5, 2022.
New research focuses on methods that could change medicine-making worldwide. The scientists propose bursting cells open, removing their DNA and using the cellular gears inside to make therapies.
Rao and his team of collaborators, which spans multiple research institutions, believe they have a better approach that may change medicine-making worldwide. They suggest forgoing the concept of using living cells as medicine-producers. Instead, they propose breaking the cells and using the remaining cellular gears for assembling the therapeutic compounds. Instead of inserting the DNA into living cells, the team burst them open, and removed their DNA altogether. Yet, the residual molecular machinery of ribosomes, polymerases and other cogwheels still functioned the way it would in a cell. “Now if you drop your DNA drug-making instructions into that soup, this machinery starts making what you need,” Rao explains. “And because you're no longer worrying about living cells, it becomes much simpler and more efficient.” The collaborators detail their cell-free protein synthesis or CFPS method in their recent paper published in preprint BioAxiv.
While CFPS does not use living cells, it still needs the basic building blocks to assemble proteins from—such as amino acids, nucleotides and certain types of enzymes. These are regularly added into this “soup” to keep the molecular factory chugging. “We just mix everything in as a batch and we let it integrate,” says James Robert Swartz, professor of chemical engineering and bioengineering at Stanford University and co-author of the paper. “And we make sure that we provide enough oxygen.” Rao likens the process to making milk from milk powder.
For a variety of reasons—from the field’s general inertia to regulatory approval hurdles—the method hasn’t become mainstream. The pandemic rekindled interest in medicines that can be made quickly and easily, so it drew more attention to the technology.
The idea of a cell-free protein synthesis is older than one might think. Swartz first experimented with it around 1997, when he was a chemical engineer at Genentech. While working on engineering bacteria to make pharmaceuticals, he discovered that there was a limit to what E. coli cells, the workhorse darling of pharma, could do. For example, it couldn’t grow and properly fold some complex proteins. “We tried many genetic engineering approaches, many fermentation, development, and environmental control approaches,” Swartz recalls—to no avail.
“The organism had its own agenda,” he quips. “And because everything was happening within the organism, we just couldn't really change those conditions very easily. Some of them we couldn’t change at all—we didn’t have control.”
It was out of frustration with the defiant bacteria that a new idea took hold. Could the cells be opened instead, so that the protein-forming reactions could be influenced more easily? “Obviously, we’d lose the ability for them to reproduce,” Swartz says. But that also meant that they no longer needed to keep the cells alive and could focus on making the specific reactions happen. “We could take the catalysts, the enzymes, and the more complex catalysts and activate them, make them work together, much as they would in a living cell, but the way we wanted.”
In 1998, Swartz joined Stanford, and began perfecting the biochemistry of the cell-free method, identifying the reactions he wanted to foster and stopping those he didn’t want. He managed to make the idea work, but for a variety of reasons—from the field’s general inertia to regulatory approval hurdles—the method hasn’t become mainstream. The pandemic rekindled interest in medicines that can be made quickly and easily, so it drew more attention to the technology. For their BioArxiv paper, the team tested the method by growing a specific antiviral protein called griffithsin.
First identified by Barry O’Keefe at National Cancer Institute over a decade ago, griffithsin is an antiviral known to interfere with many viruses’ ability to enter cells—including HIV, SARS, SARS-CoV-2, MERS and others. Originally isolated from the red algae Griffithsia, it works differently from antibodies and antibody cocktails.
Most antiviral medicines tend to target the specific receptors that viruses use to gain entry to the cells they infect. For example, SARS-CoV-2 uses the infamous spike protein to latch onto the ACE2 receptor of mammalian cells. The antibodies or other antiviral molecules stick to the spike protein, shutting off its ability to cling onto the ACE2 receptors. Unfortunately, the spike proteins mutate very often, so the medicines lose their potency. On the contrary, griffithsin has the ability to cling to the different parts of viral shells called capsids—namely to the molecules of mannose, a type of sugar. That extra stuff, glued all around the capsid like dead weight, makes it impossible for the virus to squeeze into the cell.
“Every time we have a vaccine or an antibody against a specific SARS-CoV-2 strain, that strain then mutates and so you lose efficacy,” Rao explains. “But griffithsin molecules glom onto the viral capsid, so the capsid essentially becomes a sticky mess and can’t enter the cell.” Mannose molecules also don’t mutate as easily as viruses’ receptors, so griffithsin-based antivirals do not have to be constantly updated. And because mannose molecules are found on many viruses’ capsids, it makes griffithsin “a universal neutralizer,” Rao explains.
“When griffithsin was discovered, we recognized that it held a lot of promise as a potential antiviral agent,” O’Keefe says. In 2010, he published a paper about griffithsin efficacy in neutralizing viruses of the corona family—after the first SARS outbreak in the early 2000s, the scientific community was interested in such antivirals. Yet, griffithsin is still not available as an off-the-shelf product. So during the Covid pandemic, the team experimented with synthesizing griffithsin using the cell-free production method. They were able to generate potent griffithsin in less than 24 hours without having to grow living cells.
The antiviral protein isn't the only type of medicine that can be made cell-free. The proteins needed for vaccine production could also be made the same way. “Such portable, on-demand drug manufacturing platforms can produce antiviral proteins within hours, making them ideal for combating future pandemics,” Rao says. “We would be able to stop the pandemic before it spreads.”
Top: Describes the process used in the study. Bottom: Describes how the new medicines and vaccines could be made at the site of a future viral outbreak.
Image courtesy of Rao and team, sourced from An approach to rapid distributed manufacturing of broad spectrumanti-viral griffithsin using cell-free systems to mitigate pandemics.
Rao’s idea is to perfect the technology to the point that any hospital or pharmacy can load up the media containing molecular factories, mix up the required amino acids, nucleotides and enzymes, and harvest the meds within hours. That will allow making medicines onsite and on demand. “That would be a self-contained production unit, so that you could just ship the production wherever the pandemic is breaking out,” says Swartz.
These units and the meds they produce, will, of course, have to undergo rigorous testing. “The biggest hurdles will be validating these against conventional technology,” Rao says. The biotech industry is risk-averse and prefers the familiar methods. But if this approach works, it may go beyond emergency situations and revolutionize the medicine-making paradigm even outside hospitals and pharmacies. Rao hopes that someday the method might become so mainstream that people may be able to buy and operate such reactors at home. “You can imagine a diabetic patient making insulin that way, or some other drugs,” Rao says. It would work not unlike making baby formula from the mere white powder. Just add water—and some oxygen, too.