Why Haven’t Researchers Developed an HIV Vaccine or Cure Yet?
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.
Last week, top experts on HIV/AIDS convened in Amsterdam for the 22nd International AIDS conference, and the mood was not great. Even though remarkable advances in treating HIV have led to effective management for many people living with the disease, and its overall incidence has declined, there are signs that the virus could make a troubling comeback.
"In a perfect world, we'd get a vaccine like the HPV vaccine that was 100% effective and I think that's ultimately what we're going to strive for."
Growing resistance to current HIV drugs, a population boom in Sub-Saharan Africa, and insufficient public health resources are all poised to contribute to a second AIDS pandemic, according to published reports.
Already, the virus is nowhere near under control. Though the infection rate has declined 47 percent since its peak in 1996, last year 1.8 million people became newly infected with HIV around the world, and 37 million people are currently living with it. About 1 million people die of AIDS every year, making it the fourth biggest killer in low-income countries.
Leapsmag Editor-in-Chief Kira Peikoff reached out to Dr. Carl Dieffenbach, Director of the Division of AIDS at the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases, to find out what the U.S. government is doing to develop an HIV vaccine and cure. This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.
What is the general trajectory of research in HIV/AIDS today?
We can break it down to two specific domains: focus on treatment and cure, and prevention.
Let's start with people living with HIV. This is the area where we've had the most success over the past 30 plus years, because we've taken a disease that was essentially a death sentence and converted it through the development of medications to a treatable chronic disease.
The second half of this equation is, can we cure or create a functional cure for people living with HIV? And the definition of functional cure would be the absence of circulating virus in the body in the absence of therapy. Essentially the human body would control the HIV infection within the individual. That is a much more, very early research stage of discovery. There are some interesting signals but it's still in need of innovation.
I'd like to make a contrast between what we are able to do with a virus called Hepatitis C and what we can do with the virus HIV. Hep C, with 12 weeks of highly active antiviral therapy, we can cure 95 to 100% of infections. With HIV, we cannot do that. The difference is the behavior of the virus. HIV integrates into the host's genome. Hep C is an RNA virus that stays in the cytoplasm of the cell and never gets into the DNA.
On the prevention side, we have two strategies: The first is pre-exposure prophylaxis. Then of course, we have the need for a safe, effective and durable HIV vaccine, which is a very active area of discovery. We've had some spectacular success with RV144, and we're following up on that success, and other vaccines are in the pipeline. Whether they are sufficient to provide the level of durability and activity is not yet clear, but progress has been made and there's still the need for innovation.
The most important breakthrough in the past 5 to 10 years has been the discovery of broad neutralizing monoclonal antibodies. They are proteins that the body makes, and not everybody who's HIV infected makes these antibodies, but we've been able to clone out these antibodies from certain individuals that are highly potent, and when used either singly or in combination, can truly neutralize the vast majority of HIV strains. Can those be used by themselves as treatment or as prevention? That is the question.
Can you explain more about RV144 and why you consider it a success?
Prior to RV144, we had run a number of vaccine studies and nothing had ever statistically shown to be protective. RV144 showed a level of efficacy of about 31 percent, which was statistically significant. Not enough to take forward into other studies, but it allowed us to generate some ideas about why this worked, go back to the drawing board, and redesign the immunogens to optimize and test the next generation for this vaccine. We just recently opened that new study, the follow-up to RV144, called HVTN702. That's up and enrolling and moving along quite nicely.
Carl Dieffenbach, Director of the Division of AIDS at the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases
(Courtesy)
Where is that enrolling?
Primarily in Sub-Saharan Africa and South Africa.
When will you expect to see signals from that?
Between 2020 and 2021. It's complicated because the signal also takes into account the durability. After a certain time of vaccination, we're going to count up endpoints.
How would you explain the main scientific obstacle in the way of creating a very efficacious HIV vaccine?
Simply put, it's the black box of the human immune system. HIV employs a shield technology, and the virus is constantly changing its shield to protect itself, but there are some key parts of the virus that it cannot shield, so that's the trick – to be able to target that.
So, you're trying to find the Achilles' Heel of the virus?
Exactly. To make a flu vaccine or a Zika vaccine or even an Ebola vaccine, the virus is a little bit more forthcoming with the target. In HIV, the virus does everything in its power to hide the target, so we're dealing with a well-adapted [adversary] that actively avoids neutralization. That's the scientific challenge we face.
What's next?
On the vaccine side, we are currently performing, in collaboration with partners, two vaccine trials – HVTN702, which we talked about, and another one called 705. If either of those are highly successful, they would both require an additional phase 3 clinical trial before they could be licensed. This is an important but not final step. Then we would move into scale up to global vaccination. Those conversations have begun but they are not very far along and need additional attention.
What percent of people in the current trials would need to be protected to move on to phase 3?
Between 50 and 60 percent. That comes with this question of durability: how long does the vaccine last?
It also includes, can we simplify the vaccine regimen? The vaccines we're testing right now are multiple shots over a period of time. Can we get more like the polio or smallpox vaccine, a shot with a booster down the road?
We're dealing with sovereign nations. We're doing this in partnership, not as helicopter-type researchers.
If these current trials pan out, do you think kids in the developed world will end up getting an HIV vaccine one day? Or just people in-at risk areas?
That's a good question. I don't have an answer to that. In a perfect world, we'd get a vaccine like the HPV vaccine that was 100% effective and I think that's ultimately what we're going to strive for. That's where that second or third generation of vaccines that trigger broad neutralizing antibodies come in.
With any luck at all, globally, the combination of antiretroviral treatment, pre-exposure prophylaxis and other prevention and treatment strategies will lower the incidence rate where the HIV pandemic continues to wane, and we will then be able to either target the vaccine or roll it out in a way that is both cost effective and destigmatizing.
And also, what does the country want? We're dealing with sovereign nations. We're doing this in partnership, not as helicopter-type researchers.
How close do you think we are globally to eradicating HIV infections?
Eradication's a big word. It means no new infections. We are nowhere close to eradicating HIV. Whether or not we can continue to bend the curve on the epidemic and have less infections so that the total number of people continues to decline over time, I think we can achieve that if we had the political will. And that's not just the U.S. political will. That's the will of the world. We have the tools, albeit they're not perfect. But that's where a vaccine that is efficacious and simple to deliver could be the gamechanger.
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.
How Emerging Technologies Can Help Us Fight the New Coronavirus
In nature, few species remain dominant for long. Any sizable population of similar individuals offers immense resources to whichever parasite can evade its defenses, spreading rapidly from one member to the next.
Which will prove greater: our defenses or our vulnerabilities?
Humans are one such dominant species. That wasn't always the case: our hunter-gatherer ancestors lived in groups too small and poorly connected to spread pathogens like wildfire. Our collective vulnerability to pandemics began with the dawn of cities and trade networks thousands of years ago. Roman cities were always demographic sinks, but never more so than when a pandemic agent swept through. The plague of Cyprian, the Antonine plague, the plague of Justinian – each is thought to have killed over ten million people, an appallingly high fraction of the total population of the empire.
With the advent of sanitation, hygiene, and quarantines, we developed our first non-immunological defenses to curtail the spread of plagues. With antibiotics, we began to turn the weapons of microbes against our microbial foes. Most potent of all, we use vaccines to train our immune systems to fight pathogens before we are even exposed. Edward Jenner's original vaccine alone is estimated to have saved half a billion lives.
It's been over a century since we suffered from a swift and deadly pandemic. Even the last deadly influenza of 1918 killed only a few percent of humanity – nothing so bad as any of the Roman plagues, let alone the Black Death of medieval times.
How much of our recent winning streak has been due to luck?
Much rides on that question, because the same factors that first made our ancestors vulnerable are now ubiquitous. Our cities are far larger than those of ancient times. They're inhabited by an ever-growing fraction of humanity, and are increasingly closely connected: we now routinely travel around the world in the course of a day. Despite urbanization, global population growth has increased contact with wild animals, creating more opportunities for zoonotic pathogens to jump species. Which will prove greater: our defenses or our vulnerabilities?
The tragic emergence of coronavirus 2019-nCoV in Wuhan may provide a test case. How devastating this virus will become is highly uncertain at the time of writing, but its rapid spread to many countries is deeply worrisome. That it seems to kill only the already infirm and spare the healthy is small comfort, and may counterintuitively assist its spread: it's easy to implement a quarantine when everyone infected becomes extremely ill, but if carriers may not exhibit symptoms as has been reported, it becomes exceedingly difficult to limit transmission. The virus, a distant relative of the more lethal SARS virus that killed 800 people in 2002 to 2003, has evolved to be transmitted between humans and spread to 18 countries in just six weeks.
Humanity's response has been faster than ever, if not fast enough. To its immense credit, China swiftly shared information, organized and built new treatment centers, closed schools, and established quarantines. The Coalition for Epidemic Preparedness Innovations, which was founded in 2017, quickly funded three different companies to develop three different varieties of vaccine: a standard protein vaccine, a DNA vaccine, and an RNA vaccine, with more planned. One of the agreements was signed after just four days of discussion, far faster than has ever been done before.
The new vaccine candidates will likely be ready for clinical trials by early summer, but even if successful, it will be additional months before the vaccine will be widely available. The delay may well be shorter than ever before thanks to advances in manufacturing and logistics, but a delay it will be.
The 1918 influenza virus killed more than half of its victims in the United Kingdom over just three months.
If we faced a truly nasty virus, something that spreads like pandemic influenza – let alone measles – yet with the higher fatality rate of, say, H7N9 avian influenza, the situation would be grim. We are profoundly unprepared, on many different levels.
So what would it take to provide us with a robust defense against pandemics?
Minimize the attack surface: 2019-nCoV jumped from an animal, most probably a bat, to humans. China has now banned the wildlife trade in response to the epidemic. Keeping it banned would be prudent, but won't be possible in all nations. Still, there are other methods of protection. Influenza viruses commonly jump from birds to pigs to humans; the new coronavirus may have similarly passed through a livestock animal. Thanks to CRISPR, we can now edit the genomes of most livestock. If we made them immune to known viruses, and introduced those engineered traits to domesticated animals everywhere, we would create a firewall in those intermediate hosts. We might even consider heritably immunizing the wild organisms most likely to serve as reservoirs of disease.
None of these defenses will be cheap, but they'll be worth every penny.
Rapid diagnostics: We need a reliable method of detection costing just pennies to be available worldwide inside of a week of discovering a new virus. This may eventually be possible thanks to a technology called SHERLOCK, which is based on a CRISPR system more commonly used for precision genome editing. Instead of using CRISPR to find and edit a particular genome sequence in a cell, SHERLOCK programs it to search for a desired target and initiate an easily detected chain reaction upon discovery. The technology is capable of fantastic sensitivity: with an attomolar (10-18) detection limit, it senses single molecules of a unique DNA or RNA fingerprint, and the components can be freeze-dried onto paper strips.
Better preparations: China acted swiftly to curtail the spread of the Wuhan virus with traditional public health measures, but not everything went as smoothly as it might have. Most cities and nations have never conducted a pandemic preparedness drill. Best give people a chance to practice keeping the city barely functional while minimizing potential exposure events before facing the real thing.
Faster vaccines: Three months to clinical trials is too long. We need a robust vaccine discovery and production system that can generate six candidates within a week of the pathogen's identification, manufacture a million doses the week after, and scale up to a hundred million inside of a month. That may be possible for novel DNA and RNA-based vaccines, and indeed anything that can be delivered using a standardized gene therapy vector. For example, instead of teaching each person's immune system to evolve protective antibodies by showing it pieces of the virus, we can program cells to directly produce known antibodies via gene therapy. Those antibodies could be discovered by sifting existing diverse libraries of hundreds of millions of candidates, computationally designed from scratch, evolved using synthetic laboratory ecosystems, or even harvested from the first patients to report symptoms. Such a vaccine might be discovered and produced fast enough at scale to halt almost any natural pandemic.
Robust production and delivery: Our defenses must not be vulnerable to the social and economic disruptions caused by a pandemic. Unfortunately, our economy selects for speed and efficiency at the expense of robustness. Just-in-time supply chains that wing their way around the world require every node to be intact. If workers aren't on the job producing a critical component, the whole chain breaks until a substitute can be found. A truly nasty pandemic would disrupt economies all over the world, so we will need to pay extra to preserve the capacity for independent vertically integrated production chains in multiple nations. Similarly, vaccines are only useful if people receive them, so delivery systems should be as robustly automated as possible.
None of these defenses will be cheap, but they'll be worth every penny. Our nations collectively spend trillions on defense against one another, but only billions to protect humanity from pandemic viruses known to have killed more people than any human weapon. That's foolish – especially since natural animal diseases that jump the species barrier aren't the only pandemic threats.
We will eventually make our society immune to naturally occurring pandemics, but that day has not yet come, and future pandemic viruses may not be natural.
The complete genomes of all historical pandemic viruses ever to have been sequenced are freely available to anyone with an internet connection. True, these are all agents we've faced before, so we have a pre-existing armory of pharmaceuticals and vaccines and experience. There's no guarantee that they would become pandemics again; for example, a large fraction of humanity is almost certainly immune to the 1918 influenza virus due to exposure to the related 2009 pandemic, making it highly unlikely that the virus would take off if released.
Still, making the blueprints publicly available means that a large and growing number of people with the relevant technical skills can single-handedly make deadly biological agents that might be able to spread autonomously -- at least if they can get their hands on the relevant DNA. At present, such people most certainly can, so long as they bother to check the publicly available list of which gene synthesis companies do the right thing and screen orders -- and by implication, which ones don't.
One would hope that at least some of the companies that don't advertise that they screen are "honeypots" paid by intelligence agencies to catch would-be bioterrorists, but even if most of them are, it's still foolish to let individuals access that kind of destructive power. We will eventually make our society immune to naturally occurring pandemics, but that day has not yet come, and future pandemic viruses may not be natural. Hence, we should build a secure and adaptive system capable of screening all DNA synthesis for known and potential future pandemic agents... without disclosing what we think is a credible bioweapon.
Whether or not it becomes a global pandemic, the emergence of Wuhan coronavirus has underscored the need for coordinated action to prevent the spread of pandemic disease. Let's ensure that our reactive response minimally prepares us for future threats, for one day, reacting may not be enough.
This Dog's Nose Is So Good at Smelling Cancer That Scientists Are Trying to Build One Just Like It
Daisy wouldn't leave Claire Guest alone. Instead of joining Guest's other dogs for a run in the park, the golden retriever with the soulful eyes kept nudging Guest's chest, and stared at her intently, somehow hoping she'd get the message.
"I was incredibly lucky to be told by Daisy."
When Guest got home, she detected a tiny lump in one of her breasts. She dismissed it, but her sister, who is a family doctor, insisted she get it checked out.
That saved her life. A series of tests, including a biopsy and a mammogram, revealed the cyst was benign. But doctors discovered a tumor hidden deep inside her chest wall, an insidious malignancy that normally isn't detected until the cancer has rampaged out of control throughout the body. "My prognosis would have been very poor," says Guest, who is an animal behavioralist. "I was incredibly lucky to be told by Daisy."
Ironically, at the time, Guest was training hearing dogs for the deaf—alerting them to doorbells or phones--for a charitable foundation. But she had been working on a side project to harness dogs' exquisitely sensitive sense of smell to spot cancer at its earliest and most treatable stages. When Guest was diagnosed with cancer two decades ago, however, the use of dogs to detect diseases was in its infancy and scientific evidence was largely anecdotal.
In the years since, Guest and the British charitable foundation she co-founded with Dr. John Church in 2008, Medical Detection Dogs (MDD), has shown that dogs can be trained to detect odors that predict a looming medical crisis hours in advance, in the case of diabetes or epilepsy, as well as the presence of cancers.
In a proof of principle study published in the BMJ in 2004, they showed dogs had better than a 40 percent success rate in identifying bladder cancer, which was significantly better than random chance (14 percent). Subsequent research indicated dogs can detect odors down to parts per trillion, which is the equivalent of sniffing out a teaspoon of sugar in two Olympic size swimming pools (a million gallons).
American scientists are devising artificial noses that mimic dogs' sense of smell, so these potentially life-saving diagnostic tools are widely available.
But the problem is "dogs can't be scaled up"—it costs upwards of $25,000 to train them—"and you can't keep a trained dog in every oncology practice," says Guest.
The good news is that the pivotal 2004 BMJ paper caught the attention of two American scientists—Andreas Mershin, a physicist at MIT, and Wen-Yee Yee, a chemistry professor at The University of Texas at El Paso. They have joined Guest's quest to leverage canines' highly attuned olfactory systems and devise artificial noses that mimic dogs' sense of smell, so these potentially life-saving diagnostic tools are widely available.
"What we do know is that this is real," says Guest. "Anything that can improve diagnosis of cancer is something we ought to know about."
Dogs have routinely been used for centuries as trackers for hunting and more recently, for ferreting out bombs and bodies. Dogs like Daisy, who went on to become a star performer in Guest's pack of highly trained cancer detecting canines before her death in 2018, have shared a special bond with their human companions for thousands of years. But their vastly superior olfaction is the result of simple anatomy.
Humans possess about six million olfactory receptors—the antenna-like structures inside cell membranes in our nose that latch on to the molecules in the air when we inhale. In contrast, dogs have about 300 million of them and the brain region that analyzes smells is, proportionally, about 40 times greater than ours.
Research indicates that cancerous cells interfere with normal metabolic processes, prompting them to produce volatile organic compounds (VOCs), which enter the blood stream and are either exhaled in our breath or excreted in urine. Dogs can identify these VOCs in urine samples at the tiniest concentrations, 0.001 parts per million, and can be trained to identify the specific "odor fingerprint" of different cancers, although teaching them how to distinguish these signals from background odors is far more complicated than training them to detect drugs or explosives.
For the past fifteen years, Andreas Mershin of MIT has been grappling with this complexity in his quest to devise an artificial nose, which he calls the Nano-Nose, first as a military tool to spot land mines and IEDS, and more recently as a cancer detection tool that can be used in doctors' offices. The ultimate goal is to create an easy-to-use olfaction system powered by artificial intelligence that can fit inside of smartphones and can replicate dogs' ability to sniff out early signs of prostate cancer, which could eliminate a lot of painful and costly biopsies.
Andreas Mershin works on his artificial nose.
Trained canines have a better than 90 percent accuracy in spotting prostate cancer, which is normally difficult to detect. The current diagnostic, the prostate specific antigen test, which measures levels of certain immune system cells associated with prostate cancer, has about as much accuracy "as a coin toss," according to the scientist who discovered PSA. These false positives can lead to unnecessary and horrifically invasive biopsies to retrieve tissue samples.
So far, Mershin's prototype device has the same sensitivity as the dogs—and can detect odors at parts per trillion—but it still can't distinguish that cancer smell in individual human patients the way a dog can. "What we're trying to understand from the dogs is how they look at the data they are collecting so we can copy it," says Mershin. "We still have to make it intelligent enough to know what it is looking at—what we are lacking is artificial dog intelligence."
The intricate parts of the artificial nose are designed to fit inside a smartphone.
At UT El Paso, Wen-Yee Lee and her research team has used the canine olfactory system as a model for a new screening test for prostate cancer, which has a 92 percent accuracy in tests of urine samples and could be eventually developed as a kit similar to the home pregnancy test. "If dogs can do it, we can do it better," says Lee, whose husband was diagnosed with prostate cancer in 2005.
The UT scientists used samples from about 150 patients, and looked at about 9,000 compounds before they were able to zero in on the key VOCs that are released by prostate cancers—"it was like finding a needle in the haystack," says Lee. But a more reliable test that can also distinguish which cancers are more aggressive could help patients decide their best treatment options and avoid invasive procedures that can render them incontinent and impotent.
"This is much more accurate than the PSA—we were able to see a very distinct difference between people with prostate cancer and those without cancer," says Lee, who has been sharing her research with Guest and hopes to have the test on the market within the next few years.
In the meantime, Guest's foundation has drawn the approving attention of royal animal lovers: Camilla, the Duchess of Cornwall, is a patron, which opened up the charitable floodgates and helped legitimize MDD in the scientific community. Even Camilla's mother-in-law, Queen Elizabeth, has had a demonstration of these canny canines' unique abilities.
Claire Guest, and two of MDDs medical detection dogs, Jodie and Nimbus, meet with queen Elizabeth.
"She actually held one of my [artificial] noses in her hand and asked really good questions, including things we hadn't thought of, like the range of how far away a dog can pick up the scent or if this can be used to screen for malaria," says Mershin. "I was floored by this curious 93-year-old lady. Half of humanity's deaths are from chronic diseases and what the dogs are showing is a whole new way of understanding holistic diseases of the system."