About this Author
Derek Lowe, an Arkansan by birth, got his BA from Hendrix College and his PhD in organic chemistry from Duke before spending time in Germany on a Humboldt Fellowship on his post-doc. He's worked for several major pharmaceutical companies since 1989 on drug discovery projects against schizophrenia, Alzheimer's, diabetes, osteoporosis and other diseases.
To contact Derek email him directly: derekb.lowe@gmail.com
Twitter: Dereklowe
|

Category Archives
May 15, 2013
Posted by Derek
I was talking with someone the other day about the most difficult targets and therapeutic areas we knew, and that brought up the question: which of these has had the greatest number of clinical failures? Sepsis was my nomination: I know that there have been several attempts, all of which have been complete washouts. And for mechanisms, defined broadly, I nominate PPAR ligands. The only ones to make it through were the earliest compounds, discovered even before their target had been identified. What other nominations do you have?
Comments (32)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Drug Industry History
May 2, 2013
Posted by Derek
The kinase inhibitor tivozanib (for renal cell carcinoma) was shot down this morning at an FDA committee hearing. There are going to be a lot of arguments about this decision, because feelings have been running high on both sides of the issue.
And this has been an issue for over a year now. As that FierceBiotech story puts it:
Tivozanib hit its primary endpoint, demonstrating a slim but statistically significant improvement in progression-free-survival of patients with advanced renal cell carcinoma when compared to Nexavar (sorafenib). But the sorafenib arm experienced a slightly better overall survival rate, and Aveo has been trying to explain it away ever since.
The developer had to start in the spring of 2012 at a pre-NDA meeting. According to the review document, "the FDA expressed concern about the adverse trend in overall survival in the single Phase III trial and recommended that the sponsor conduct a second adequately powered randomized trial in a population comparable to that in the US."
The Phase III in question was performed in Eastern Europe, and one of the outcomes of today's decision may be a reluctance to rely on that part of the world for pivotal trials. I'm honestly not sure how much of tivozanib's problems were due to that (if the data had been stronger, no one would be wondering). But if the patient population in the trial was far enough off the intended US market to concern the FDA, then there was trouble coming from a long way away.
Aveo, though, may not have had many options by this time. This is one of those situations where a smaller company has enough resources to barely get something through Phase III, so they try to do it as inexpensively as they can (thus Eastern Europe). By the time things looked dicey, there wasn't enough cash to do anything over, so they took what they had to the FDA and hoped for the best. The agency's suggestion to do a US trial must have induced some despair, since (1) they apparently didn't have the money to do it, and (2) this meant that the chances of approval on the existing data were lower than they'd hoped.
One of the other big issues that this decision highlights is in trial design. This was a "crossover" trial, where patients started out on one medication and then could be switched to another as their condition progressed. So many crossed over to the comparison drug (Nexavar, sorafenib) that it seems to have impaired the statistics of the trial. Were the overall survival numbers slightly better in the eventual Nexavar group because they'd been switched to that drug, or because they'd gotten tivozanib first? That's something you'd hope that a more expensive/well-run Phase III would have addressed, but in the same way that this result casts some doubt on the Eastern European clinical data, it casts some doubt on crossover trial design in this area.
Update: a big problem here was that there were many more patients who crossed over to tivozanib from Nexavar than the other way around. That's a design problem for you. . .
What a mess - and what a mess for Aveo, and their investors. I'm not sure if they've got anything else; it looks like they'd pretty much bet the company on this. Which must have been like coming to the showdown at the poker table with a low three-of-a-kind, knowing that someone else probably has it beat. . .
Comments (27)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cancer | Clinical Trials | Regulatory Affairs
April 22, 2013
Posted by Derek
From Nature comes this news of an effort to go back to oncology clinical trials and look at the outliers: the people who actually showed great responses to otherwise failed drugs.
By all rights, Gerald Batist’s patient should have died nine years ago. Her pancreatic cancer failed to flinch in the face of the standard arsenal — surgery, radiation, chemotherapy — and Batist, an oncologist at McGill University in Montreal, Canada, estimated that she had one year to live. With treatment options dwindling, he enrolled her in a clinical trial of a hot new class of drugs called farnesyltransferase inhibitors. Animal tests had suggested that the drugs had the potential to defeat some of the deadliest cancers, and pharmaceutical firms were racing to be the first to bring such compounds to market.
But the drugs flopped in clinical trials. Companies abandoned the inhibitors — one of the biggest heartbreaks in cancer research over the past decade. For Batist’s patient, however, the drugs were anything but disappointing. Her tumours were resolved; now, a decade later, she remains cancer free. And Batist hopes that he may soon find out why.
That's a perfect example, because pancreatic cancer has a well-deserved reputation as one of the most intractable tumor types, and the farnesylation inhibitors were indeed a titanic bust after much anticipation.. So that combination - a terrible prognosis and an ineffective class of compounds - shouldn't have led to anything, but it certainly seems to have in that case. If there was something odd about the combination of mutations in this patient that made her respond, could there be others that would as well? It looks as if that sort of thing could work:
Early n-of-1 successes have bolstered expectations. When David Solit, a cancer researcher also at Memorial Sloan-Kettering, encountered an exceptional responder in a failed clinical trial of the drug everolimus against bladder cancer, he decided to sequence her tumour. Among the 17,136 mutations his team found, two stood out — mutations in each of these genes had been shown to make cancer growth more dependent on the cellular pathway that everolimus shut down1. A further search revealed one of these genes — called TSC1 — was mutated in about 8% of 109 patients in their sample, a finding that could resurrect the notion of using everolimus to treat bladder cancer, this time in a trial of patients with TSC1 mutations.
So we are indeed heading to that dissection of cancer into its component diseases, which are uncounted thousands of cellular phenotypes, all leading to unconstrained growth. It's going to be quite a slog through the sequencing jungle along the way, though, which is why I don't share the optimism of people like Andy von Eschenbach and others who talk about vast changes in cancer therapy being just about to happen. These n-of-1 studies, for example, will be of direct benefit to very few people, the ones who happen to have rare and odd tumor types (that looked like more common ones at first). But tracking these things down is still worthwhile, because eventually we'll want to have all these things tracked down. Every one of them. And that's going to take quite a while, which means we'd better get starting on the ones that we know how to do.
And even then, there's going to be an even tougher challenge: the apparently common situation of multiple tumor cells types in what looks (without sequencing) like a single cancer. How to deal with these, in what order, and in what combinations - now that'll be hard. But not impossible and "not impossible" is enough to go on. Like Francis Bacon's "New Atlantis", what we have before us is the task of understanding ". . .the knowledge of causes, and secret motions of things; and the enlarging of the bounds of human empire, to the effecting of all things possible". Just don't put a deadline on it!
Comments (12)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cancer | Clinical Trials
March 27, 2013
Posted by Derek
Back last fall I wrote about Prof. Magnus Essand and his oncoloytic virus research. He's gotten a good amount of press coverage, and has been trying all sorts of approaches to get further work funded. But here's one that I hadn't thought of: Essand and his co-workers are willing to name the therapy after anyone who can pony up the money to get it into a 20-patient human trial.
The more I think about that, the less problem I have with it. This looks at first like a pure angel investor move, and if people want to take a crack at something like this with their own cash, let them do the due diligence and make the call. Actually, Essand believes that his current virus is unpatentable (due to prior publication), so this is less of an a angel investment and more sheer philanthropy. But I have no objections at all to that, either.
Update: here's more on the story.
Comments (11)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cancer | Clinical Trials | Drug Development
March 26, 2013
Posted by Derek
You may remember this insider trading scandal from last year, involving a lead investigator for Wyeth/Elan's trials of bapineuzumab for Alzheimer's.
Here's the sequel. The hedge fund involved has agreed to pay $600 million dollars to settle the charges, although this does not get the manager himself off the hook (litigation in his case continues). Dr. Sidney Gilman, the investigator who leaked the information, has already been required to give back all his own gains, with interest and penalties.
Comments (6)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Business and Markets | Clinical Trials | The Dark Side
March 22, 2013
Posted by Derek
I've written a couple of times about the work at the University of Pennsylvania on modified T-cell therapy for leukemia (CLL). Now comes word that a different version of this approach seems to be working at Sloan-Kettering. Recurrent B-cell acute lymphoblastic leukemia (B-ALL) has been targeted there, and it's generally a more aggressive disease than CLL.
As with the Penn CLL studies, when this technique works, it can be dramatic:
One of the sickest patients in the study was David Aponte, 58, who works on a sound crew for ABC News. In November 2011, what he thought was a bad case of tennis elbow turned out to be leukemia. He braced himself for a long, grueling regimen of chemotherapy.
Brentjens suggested that before starting the drugs, Aponte might want to have some of his T-cells stored (chemotherapy would deplete them). That way, if he relapsed, he might be able to enter a study using the cells. Aponte agreed.
At first, the chemo worked, but by summer 2012, while he was still being treated, tests showed the disease was back.
“After everything I had gone through, the chemo, losing hair, the sickness, it was absolutely devastating,’’ Aponte recalled.
He joined the T-cell study. For a few days, nothing seemed to be happening. But then his temperature began to rise. He has no memory of what happened for the next week or so, but the journal article — where he is patient 5 — reports that his fever spiked to 105 degrees.
He was in the throes of a ‘‘cytokine storm,’’ meaning that the T-cells, in a furious battle with the cancer, were churning out enormous amounts of hormones called cytokines. Besides fever, the hormonal rush can make a patient’s blood pressure plummet and his heart rate shoot up. Aponte was taken to intensive care and treated with steroids to quell the reaction.
Eight days later, his leukemia was gone
He and the other patients in the study all received bone marrow transplantations after the treatment, and are considered cured - which is remarkable, since they were all relapsed/refractory, and thus basically at death's door. These stories sound like the ones from the early days of antibiotics, with the important difference that resistance to drug therapy doesn't spread through the world's population of cancer cells. The modified T-cell approach has already gotten a lot of attention, and this is surely going to speed things up even more. I look forward to the first use of it for a non-blood-cell tumor (which appears to be in the works) and to further refinements in generating the cells themselves.
Comments (11)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Biological News | Cancer | Clinical Trials
Posted by Derek
The last few days have brought some good news on some unusual approaches to cancer therapy. First off was Amgen's report that they'd seen positive results in advanced melanoma using a modified HSV treatment. This is technology that they brought in by buying Biovex in 2011, and as a minor side effect, if it works, it'll be so much the better for Roger Perlmutter (now at Merck), since this was a deal made under his watch.
Specifically, the company says that 16% of patients showed a response (durable response rate, DRR) to the treatment, versus 2% of the control group. That's encouraging, but the big question is overall survival. DRR will get you little or nothing at the FDA, or shouldn't, if people don't actually live longer. We should have those numbers later this year - considering what sort of shape people are in with late-stage melanoma, you can look at the odds two different ways. The disease is so advanced, perhaps, that it'll be difficult for anything to show a benefit. Or, on the other hand, anything that doe have an effect will stand out, since the control group's course will be so relentless.
I hope this works, both for the patients and for the idea of using a virus to attack cancerous cells. That one's been kicking around for a long time, with several companies in the chase, and it has a lot of appealing features. But it also has a lot of tricky details, too - targeting the tumor cells over normal ones, finding the appropriate viral platform, delivering it safely to the patient, and more. There's also the question of whether you just want to lyse the tumor cells with a viral load, or also make them express some therapeutically useful protein. The Amgen/Biovex HSV virus in this latest trial, for example, also causes the cells to express GM-CSF for an additional immune response (with the control group getting GM-CSF alone).
So even though this has been actively researched in humans since the mid-1990s, I'd still call it the early days. Here's hoping for more encouraging news, from Amgen and the others in this chase.
Comments (5)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cancer | Clinical Trials
March 21, 2013
Posted by Derek
If you looked at the timelines of a clinical trial, you'll notice that there's often a surprisingly long gap between when the trial actually ends and when the results of it are ready to announce. If you've ever been involved in working up all that data, you'll know why, but it's usually not obvious to people outside of medical research why it should take so long. (I know how they'd handle the scene in a movie, were any film to ever take on such a subject - it would look like the Oscars, with someone saying "And the winner is. . ." within the first few seconds after the last patient was worked up).
The Danish company NeuroSearch unfortunately provided everyone with a lesson in why you want to go over your trial data carefully. In February of 2010, they announced positive results in a Phase III trial of a drug (pridopidine, Huntexil) for Huntington's (a rare event, that), but two months later they had to take it back. This move cratered their stock price, and investor confidence in general, as you'd imagine. Further analysis, which I would guess involved someone sitting in front of a computer screen, tapping keys and slowly turning pale and sweaty, showed that the drug actually hadn't reached statistical significance after all.
It came down to the varying genetic background in the patients being studied, specifically, the number of CAG repeats. That's the mutation behind Huntington's - once you get up to too many of those trinucleotide repeats in the middle of the gene sequence, the resulting protein starts to behave abnormally. Fewer than 36 CAGs, and you should be fine, but a good part of the severity of the disease has to do with how many repeats past that a person might have. NeuroSearch's trial design was not predicated on such genetic differences, at least not for modeling the primary endpoints. If you took those into account, they reached statistical significance, but if you didn't, you missed.
That's unfortunate, but could (in theory) be worse - after all, their efficacy did seem to track with a clinically relevant measure of disease severity. But you'll have noticed that I'm wording all these sentences in the past tense. The company has announced that they're closing. It's all been downhill since that first grim announcement. In early 2011, the FDA rejected their New Drug Application, saying that the company needed to provide more data. By September of that year, they were laying off most of their employees to try to get the resources together for another Phase III trial. In 2012, the company began shopping Huntexil around, as it became clear that they were not going to be able to develop it themselves, and last September, Teva purchased the program.
This is a rough one, because for a few weeks there in 2010, NeuroSearch looked like they had made it. If you want to see the fulcrum, the place about which whole companies pivot, go to clinical trial design. It's hard to overstate just how important it is.
Comments (7)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | The Central Nervous System
March 4, 2013
Posted by Derek
Here's a new editorial on clinical trials and drug development by Tomas Philipson and Andy von Eschenbach (former head of the FDA). It continues his earlier theme of scaling back Phase III trials (which I commented on here).
These Phase 3 clinical trials served us well in the past. Today, in an era of precision or personalized-drug development, when medicines increasingly work for very specific patient groups, the system may be causing more harm than good for several reasons.
First, because of their restrictive design and the way the FDA interprets their results, Phase 3 trials often fail to recognize the unique benefits that medicines can offer to smaller groups of patients than those required in trials.
Second, information technologies have created improvements in our ability to monitor and improve product performance and safety after medicines are approved for sale. Post-market surveillance can and should reduce dependence on pre-market drug screening in Phase 3 trials.
Third, reducing reliance on Phase 3 trials is unlikely to introduce an offsetting harm induced by more dangerous drugs, since evidence supporting safety is produced in earlier phases. Manufacturers also have powerful incentives to maintain drug safety, since they take enormous financial hits -- well beyond the loss of sales -- when drugs are withdrawn after approval.
I'm still of two minds about this proposal. The idea of moving to less preclinical study and more post-marketing surveillance is not a ridiculous one, but our current system (and the expectations it generates) do make a good fit with it. The nasty details I noticed being glossed over earlier are still with us: how will health insurance companies deal with this change? How do we keep unscrupulous gaming of the system, with companies rushing things to market and spinning out the postmarketing studies as thinly and cheaply as possible? What would keep the real bottom-of-the-barrel types from pumping out high-priced placebos for demanding diseases like Alzheimer's, which compounds would fly through safety studies and reap big profits until they (slowly) were proved ineffective? What would be the legal aspect of all this - that is, when would a patient have the right to sue if something goes badly wrong, and when would they have to just realize that they're taking an investigational drug and that they're part of a research study?
These are real problems, but you wouldn't imagine that they even exist when you read these editorial pieces. I'm a fairly libertarian guy, but these are the sorts of things that occur to me within the first few minutes of thinking about such proposals, which means that there must be many other wrinkles I haven't thought of yet. I agree that increasing the research productivity of the drug industry would be an excellent thing, but I'm really not sure that this is the way to do it.
Comments (10)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Regulatory Affairs
February 15, 2013
Posted by Derek
Abbott - whoops, pardon me, I mean AbbVie, damn that name - has been developing ABT-199, a selective Bcl-2-targeted oncology compound for CLL. Unlike some earlier shots in this area (ABT-263, navitoclax), it appeared to spare platelet function, and was considered a promising drug candidate in the mid-stage clinical pipeline.
Not any more, perhaps. Clinical work has been suspended after a patient death due to tumor lysis syndrome. This is a group of effects caused by sudden breakdown of the excess cells associated with leukemia. You get too much potassium, too much calcium, too much uric acid, all sorts of things at once, which lead to many nasty downstream events, among them irreversible kidney damage and death. So yes, this can be caused by a drug candidate working too well and too suddenly.
The problem is, as the Biotech Strategy Blog says in that link above, that this would be more understandable in some sort of acute leukemia, as opposed to CLL, which is the form that ABT-199 is being tested against. So there's going to be some difficulty figuring out how to proceed. My guess is that they'll be able to restart testing, but that they'll be creeping up on the dosages, with a lot of blood monitoring along the way, until they get a better handle on this problem - if a better handle is available, that is. ABT-199 looks too promising to abandon, and after all, we're talking about a fatal disease. But this is going to slow things down, for sure.
Update: I've had email from the company, clarifying things a bit: "While AbbVie has voluntarily suspended enrollment in Phase 1 trials evaluating ABT-199 as a single agent and in combination with other agents such as rituximab, dosing of active patients in ABT-199 trials is continuing. Previous and current trials have shown that dose escalation methods can control tumor lysis syndrome and we have every expectation that the trials will come off of clinical hold and that we will be able to initiate Phase 3 trials in 2013, as planned."
Comments (18)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cancer | Clinical Trials | Toxicology
February 7, 2013
Posted by Derek
I'm not the first person to complain about these things, of course. Even by 2003, there were sixteen different clinical trials in the literature with the acronym HEART. It appears that the cardiovascular field picked up the acronym bug early, probably due to the size and length of their clinical programs. It also may been the first field to think up the jazzy clinical trial name first, and find something half-sensible to match it afterwards. But who can doubt that this is what goes on most of the time now? For those who still want to run the algorithm the other way, there's the Acronym Generator, which, wouldn't you know it, is run out of a cardiac hospital unit in Liverpool.
I wonder if the FDA would ever consider requiring drug companies and other research organizations to tone all this down, in the interest of sanity. If you're studying a drug called, say, kevorkirol (a generic name I invented a few years back, and hereby give freely to the scientific community), couldn't the clinical studies just be named "Kevorkirol Efficacy Trial #1", and "Kevorkirol Expanded Efficacy Trial #2" and so on? That would actually help people to keep them straight, instead of having to make a chart of bizarre trial names and their actual purpose. Anyone up for this idea?
Comments (25)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Regulatory Affairs
February 5, 2013
Posted by Derek
Here's a rather grim analysis from the AP of Merck's current status. The company's stock was recently downgraded by two analysts after last Friday's earnings call didn't go very well (links added by me below):
Future sales of Vytorin, a controversial combination drug on sale since 2004 that includes Zocor, and prospects for a crucial experimental osteoporosis drug called odanacatib were thrown into question Friday as Merck announced its fourth-quarter results. Company executives made some cryptic comments, suggesting significant problems with both drugs. . .
Merck said Friday that it won't apply for approval of odanacatib, a new type of osteoporosis drug, until 2014 instead of by this June. Management said it was reviewing safety and efficacy data from one study and now won't apply for approval until they have longer-term data from an extension study.
Executives also said a committee monitoring its 18,000-patient study of Vytorin, called IMPROVE-IT, had requested a new interim analysis of patient data in March. The study is meant to determine whether Vytorin reduces risk of heart attack, stroke and death in heart disease patients — the ultimate purpose of cholesterol drugs — but Merck executives, grilled by analysts on a conference call, wouldn't say that they're confident the study will show that benefit.
I wouldn't, either, if I were in their shoes. The Vytorin story has been long and complex, and that complexity comes from two sources: the drug's unique mechanism of action (at least the ezetimibe part), and the uncertainties of human lipid handling and its relationship to cardiovascular outcomes. Honestly, these things could go any way at all, and the same goes for Merck's high-profile push in CETP. A lot of the company is riding on some very uncertain science.
But I wonder, as I was speculating on in that last link, if that isn't where the whole industry is these days. By now, we've attacked all the things that we believe we really know something solid about. What's left is often big, important, potentially very profitable. . .and risky enough to make you leave fingernail marks in the armrests of your chair. The higher up you sit, and the nicer the material that chair is made of, the more damage is being done to it.
Comments (14)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Business and Markets | Clinical Trials
January 31, 2013
Posted by Derek
So Isis and their partner Sanofi have received FDA approval for mipomersen (branded as Kynamro). Late last year, the European Medicines Agency turned them down, which has people wondering about the drug's future, but here they are, albeit with a warning on the label about liver toxicity.
Mipomersen is designed to lower the Apo-B lipoprotein in people with the most severe (homozygous) form of familial hypercholesterolemia. That's a small patient population, but they're definitely in need of help. The really significant thing about this approval, in my mind, is that it's a pure antisense therapy, and it comes about twenty years after there was supposed to be a world-changing flood of them. (Isis did get one through the process back in 1996, fomivirsen, but it's never had much of an impact). It was a standing joke back in the late 1980s/early 1990s that everyone had heard from a headhunter recruiting for one antisense company or another. (Sheesh, those were the days, eh? There still are search firms, right? When's the last time a headhunter rang your phone?)
I don't think that mipomersen will ever reach the heights that Isis thought it might a few years ago; the liver tox problems will see that it's only used in life-threatening situations. (I note that one time when I wrote about the drug, fans of ISIS showed up rolling their eyes at the mistaken notion that liver tox could ever be a problem). But I'm divided between congratulating them on finally getting something onto the market, and wondering about how difficult it's been to get there. As far as I know, the liver tox seen in this case is largely (completely?) thought to be due to the mechanism of action on lipid handling in the liver itself.
So how about the other antisense compounds in the clinic? As of that 2010 link above, we had trabedersen, for TGF-beta2, which is actively being tried against pancreatic cancer. Alicaforsen, for Crohn's et al., has shown disappointing efficacy in Crohn's, but is still alive for ulcerative colitis.. Aganirsen, for various vascular conditions in the eye, is still in development, with more funding having arrived recently. Oblimersen has shown some effects in the clinic, but CLL is a crowded area, and its current status is unclear, at least to me. And custirsen is in Phase III, with mixed results in Phase II trials.
Actually, that lineup looks a lot like drug development in the rest of the industry, to be honest. Some stuff looks OK and is moving along, some not so OK, and some has wiped out. It's important to realize that even if liver tox is not some general feature of the mipomersen-generation antisense compounds, that we still have efficacy failures. Oh, that we do. The indications where we can really laser right in on a key target do not make a long list. Many of those are orphans, too. In contrast, the list of giant-unmet-medical-need indications where we can laser right in on a key target is, I think, waiting for something, anything, to be written on it.
Comments (12)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials
January 25, 2013
Posted by Derek
CETP, now there's a drug target that has incinerated a lot of money over the years. Here's a roundup of compounds I posted on back last summer, with links to their brutal development histories. I wondered here about what's going to happen with this class of compounds: will one ever make it as a drug? If it does, will it just end up telling us that there are yet more complications in human lipid handling that we didn't anticipate?
Well, Merck and Lilly are continuing their hugely expensive, long-running atempts to answer these questions. Here's an interview with Merck's Ken Frazier in which he sounds realistic - that is, nervous:
Merck CEO Ken Frazier, speaking in Davos on the sidelines of the World Economic Forum, said the U.S. drugmaker would continue to press ahead with clinical research on HDL raising, even though the scientific case so far remained inconclusive.
"The Tredaptive failure is another piece of evidence on the side of the scale that says HDL raising hasn't yet been proven," he said.
"I don't think by any means, though, that the question of HDL raising as a positive factor in cardiovascular health has been settled."
Tredaptive, of course, hit the skids just last month. And while its mechanism is not directly relevant to CETP inhibition (I think), it does illustrate how little we know about this area. Merck's anacetrapib is one of the ugliest-looking drug candidates I've ever seen (ten fluorines, three aryl rings, no hydrogen bond donors in sight), and Lilly's compound is only slightly more appealing.
But Merck finds itself having to bet a large part of the company's future in this area. Lilly, for its part, is betting similarly, and most of the rest of their future is being plunked down on Alzheimer's. And these two therapeutic areas have a lot in common: they're both huge markets that require huge clinical trials and rest on tricky fundamental biology. The huge market part makes sense; that's the only way that you could justify the amount of development needed to get a compound through. But the rest of the setup is worth some thought.
Is this what Big Pharma has come to, then? Placing larger and larger bets in hopes of a payoff that will make it all work out? If this were roulette, I'd have no trouble diagnosing someone who was using a Martingale betting system. There are a few differences, although I'm not sure how (or if) they cancel out For one thing, the Martingale gambler is putting down larger and larger amounts of money in an attempt to win the same small payout (the sum of the initial bet!) Pharma is at least chasing a larger jackpot. But the second difference is that the house advantage at roulette is a fixed 5.26% (at least in the US), which is ruinous, but is at least a known quantity.
But mentioning "known quantities" brings up a third difference. The rules of casino games don't change (unless an Ed Thorp shows up, which was a one-time situation). The odds of drug discovery are subject to continuous change as we acquire more knowledge; it's more like the Monty Hall Paradox. The question is, have the odds changed enough in CETP (or HDL-raising therapies in general) or Alzheimer's to make this a reasonable wager?
For the former, well, maybe. There are theories about what went wrong with torcetrapib (a slight raising of blood pressure being foremost, last I heard), and Merck's compound seems to be dodging those. Roche's failure with dacetrapib is worrisome, though, since the official reason there was sheer lack of efficacy in the clinic. And it's clear that there's a lot about HDL and LDL that we don't understand, both their underlying biology and their effects on human health when they're altered. So (to put things in terms of the Monty Hall problem), a tiny door has been opened a crack, and we may have caught a glimpse of some goat hair. But it could have been a throw rug, or a gorilla; it's hard to say.
What about Alzheimer's? I'm not even sure if we're learned as much as we have with CETP. The immunological therapies have been hard to draw conclusions from, because hey, it's the immune system. Every antibody is different, and can do different things. But the mechanistic implications of what we've seen so far are not that encouraging, unless, of course, you're giving interviews as an executive of Eli Lilly. The small-molecule side of the business is a bit easier to interpret; it's an unrelieved string of failures, one crater after another. We've learned a lot about Alzheimer's therapies, but what we've mostly learned is that nothing we've tried has worked much. In Monty Hall terms, the door has stayed shut (or perhaps has opened every so often to provide a terrifying view of the Void). At any rate, the flow of actionable goat-delivered information has been sparse.
Overall, then, I wonder if we really are at the go-for-the-biggest-markets-and-hope-for-the-best stage of research. The big companies are the ones with enough resources to tackle the big diseases; that's one reason we see them there. But the other reason is that the big diseases are the only things that the big companies think can rescue them.
Comments (4)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Alzheimer's Disease | Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials | Drug Development | Drug Industry History
January 21, 2013
Posted by Derek
So PhRMA has a press release out on the state of drug research, but it's a little hard to believe. This part, especially:
The report, developed by the Analysis Group and supported by PhRMA, reveals that more than 5,000 new medicines are in the pipeline globally. Of these medicines in various phases of clinical development, 70 percent are potential first-in-class medicines, which could provide exciting new approaches to treating disease for patients.
This set off discussion on Twitter and elsewhere about how these number could have been arrived at. Here's the report itself (PDF), and looking through it provides a few more details Using figures that show up in the body of the report, that looks like between 2164 compounds in Phase I, 2329 in Phase II, and 833 in Phase III. Of those, by far the greatest number are in oncology, where they have 1265, 1507, and 288 in Phase I, II, and III, respectively. Second is infectious disease (304/289/135), and third is neurology (256/273/74). It's worth noting that "Psychiatry" is a separate category all its own, by the way.
An accompanying report (PDF) gives a few more specific figures. It claims, among other things, 66 medicines currently in clinical trials for Hepatitis C, 61 projects for ALS, and 158 for ovarian cancer. Now, it's good to have the exact numbers broken down. But don't those seem rather high?
Here's the section on how these counts were obtained:
Except where otherwise noted, data were obtained from EvaluatePharma, a proprietary commercial database with coverage of over 4,500 companies and approximately 50,000 marketed and pipeline products (including those on-market, discontinued, and in development), and containing historical data from 1986 onward. Pipeline information is available for each stage of development, defined as: Research Project, Preclinical, Phase I, II, III, Filed, and Approved. EvaluatePharma collects and curates information from publicly available sources and contains drug-related information such as company sponsor and therapy area. The data were downloaded on December 12, 2011.
While our interest is in drugs in development that have the potential to become new treatment options for U.S. patients, it is difficult to identify ex ante which drugs in development may eventually be submitted for FDA approval – development activity is inherently global, although regulatory review, launch, and marketing are market-specific. Because most drugs are intended for marketing in the U.S., the largest drug market in the world, we have not excluded any drugs in clinical development (i.e., in Phases I, II, or III). However, in any counts of drugs currently in regulatory review, we have excluded drugs that were not filed with the FDA.
Unless otherwise noted, the analysis in this report is restricted to new drug applications for medicines that would be reviewed as new molecular entities (NMEs) and to new indications for already approved NMEs. . .
Products are defined as having a unique generic name, such that a single product is counted exactly once (regardless of the number of indications being pursued).
That gives some openings for the higher-than-expected numbers. For one, those databases of company activities always seem to run on the high side, because many companies keep things listed as development compounds when they're really ceased any work on them (or in extreme cases, never even really started work at all). Second, there may be some oddities from other countries in there, where the standards for press releases are even lower. But we can rule out a third possibility, that single compounds are being counted across multiple indications. I think that the first-in-class figures are surely pumped up by the cases where there are several compounds all in development for the same (as yet unrealized) target, though. Finally, I think that there's some shuffling between "compounds" and "projects" taking place, with the latter having even larger figures.
I'm going to see in another post if I can break down any of these numbers further - who know, maybe there are a lot more compounds in development than I think. But my first impression is that these numbers are much higher than I would have guessed. It would be very helpful if someone at PhRMA would release a list of the compounds they've counted from one of these indications, just to give us an idea. Any chance of that?
Comments (21)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Drug Development
January 18, 2013
Posted by Derek
Here's another one to file under "What we don't know about brain chemistry". That's a roomy category for sure, which (to be optimistic about it) leaves a lot of room for discovery. In that category are the observations that ketamine seems to dramatically help some people with major depression. It's an old drug, of course, still used in some situations as an anesthetic, and also used (or abused) by people who wish to deliberately derange themselves in dance clubs. Chemists will note the chemical resemblance to phencyclidine (PCP), a compound whose reputation for causing derangement is thouroughly deserved. (Ketamine was, in fact, a "second-generation" version of PCP, many years on).
Both of these compounds are, among other things, NMDA receptor antagonists. That had not been considered a high-priority target for treating depression, but you certainly can't argue with results (not, at least, when you know as little about the mechanisms of depression as we do). There are better compounds around, fortunately:
AZD6765, an inhibitor of the N-methyl-D-aspartate (NMDA) receptor, a glutamate signaling protein involved in cellular mechanisms for learning and memory, was originally developed as a treatment for stroke. It was shelved in 2000 by the drug's manufacturer, AstraZeneca, after phase 2 trials failed to show signs of efficacy. In the decade that followed, however, small clinical reports started to emerge showing that ketamine, an analgesic that also blocks the NMDA receptor, produced rapid responses in people who didn't benefit from any other antidepressants. And unlike most therapies for major depression, which usually take weeks to kick in, ketamine's mood-lifting effects could be seen within two hours, with a therapeutic boost that often lasted for weeks following a single infusion. Ketamine treatment also came with a number of debilitating side effects, though, including psychosis and detachment from reality. Fortunately for AstraZeneca, the company had a cleaner drug on its shelves that could harness ketamine's benefits with fewer problems.
Note that AZD6765 (lanicemine) has a rather simple structure, further confirmation (if anyone needed any) that things this size can be very effective drugs. Here's the clinical study that Nature Medicine news item refers to, and it makes clear that this was a pretty tough patient cohort:
This double-blind, placebo-controlled, proof-of-concept study found that a single intravenous infusion of a low-trapping nonselective NMDA channel blocker in patients with treatment-resistant MDD rapidly (within minutes) improved depressive symptoms without inducing psychotomimetic effects. However, this improvement was transitory. To our knowledge, this is the first report showing rapid antidepressant effects associated with a single infusion of a low-trapping nonselective NMDA channel blocker that did not induce psychotomimetic side effects in patients with treatment-resistant MDD.
More specifically, patient depression scores improved significantly more in patients receiving AZD6765 than in those receiving placebo, and this improvement occurred as early as 80 min. This difference was statistically significant for the MADRS, HDRS, BDI, and HAM-A. These findings are particularly noteworthy, because a large proportion of study participants had a substantial history of past treatment that was not efficacious. The mean number of past antidepressant trials was seven, and 45% of participants had failed to respond to electroconvulsive therapy.
The problem is the short duration. By one evaluation scale, the effects only lasted about two hours (by another less stringent test, some small effect could still be seen out to one or two days). Ketamine lasts longer, albeit at a cost of some severe side effects. This doesn't seem to be a problem with high clearance of AZD6765 (its PK had been well worked out when it was a candidate for stroke). Other factors might be operating:
These differences could be due to subunit selectivity and trapping blockade. It is also possible that the metabolites of ketamine might be involved in its relatively sustained antidepressant effects, perhaps acting on off-site targets; a recent report described active ketamine metabolites that last for up to 3 days. It is also important to note that, although trapping blockade or broadness of antagonist effects on the NMDA subunit receptors might be key to the robustness of antidepressant effects, these same properties might be involved in the dissociative and perceptual side effects of ketamine. Notably, these side effects were not apparent at the dose of AZD6765 tested.
If that last part is accurate, this is going to be a tricky target to work with. I doubt if AZD6765 itself has a future as an antidepressant, but if it can help to understand that mode of action, what the downstream effects might be, and which ones are important, it could lead to something very valuable indeed. The time and effort that will be needed for that is food for thought, particularly when you consider the patients in this study. What must it be like to feel the poison cloud of major depression lift briefly, only to descend again? The Nature Medicine piece has this testimony:
(David) Prietz, 48, a scheduling supervisor at a sheet-metal manufacturer in Rochester, New York, who has been on disability leave for several years, started to feel his head clear from the fog of depression within days of receiving AZD6765. After his second infusion, he vividly began noticing the fall foliage of the trees outside his doctor's office—something he hadn't previously appreciated in his depressed state. “The greens seemed a lot greener and the blue sky seemed a lot bluer,” he says. Although the lift lasted only a couple months after the three-week trial finished and the drug was taken away, the experience gave Prietz hope that he might one day get better. “I can't recall feeling as well I did at the time,” he says.
Fall foliage for Algernon ? I hope we can do something for these people, because as it is, a short-duration effect is scientifically fascinating but emotionally cruel.
Comments (36)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | The Central Nervous System
January 3, 2013
Posted by Derek
You may have seen some "wonder drug" news stories over the holiday break about compounds targeting p53 - many outlets picked up this New York Times story. The first paragraph probably got them:
For the first time ever, three pharmaceutical companies are poised to test whether new drugs can work against a wide range of cancers independently of where they originated — breast, prostate, liver, lung. The drugs go after an aberration involving a cancer gene fundamental to tumor growth. Many scientists see this as the beginning of a new genetic age in cancer research.
Now, to read that, you might think we're talking mutated p53, which is indeed found in a wide variety of cancers. It's the absolute first thing you think of when you think of a defective protein that's strongly associated with cancer. And everyone has been trying to target it for years and years now, for just that reason, but without too much success. If you know drug development, you might have seen this article and done what I did - immediately read on wondering who the heck it was with a broad-based p53 therapy and how you missed it.
That's when you find, though, that this is p53 and MDM2. MDM2 is one of those Swiss-army-knife proteins that interacts with a list of other important regulatory proteins as long as your leg. (Take a look at the last paragraph of that Wikipedia link and you'll see what I mean). Its relationship with p53 has been the subject of intense research for many years now - it's a negative regulator, binding to p53 and keeping it from initiating its own transcriptional activity. Since a lot of that transcriptional activity is involved with telling a cell to kill itself, that's the sort of thing you'd normally want to have repressed, but the problem in some tumor lines is that MDM2 never gets around to leaving, allowing damaged cancerous cells to carry on regardless.
So, as that newspaper piece says, there have been several long-running efforts to find compounds that will block the p53/MDM2 interaction. The first big splashes in the area were the "Nutlin" compounds, from Roche - named after Nutley, New Jersey, much good did it do the research site in the end. The tangled history of Nutlin-3 in the clinic is worth considering when you think about this field. But for some kinds of cancer, notably many lipsarcomas, this could be an excellent target. That link discusses some results with RG7112, which is one of the drugs that the Times is talking about. Note that the results are, on one level, quite good. This is a tumor type that isn't affected by much, and 14 out of the 20 patients showed stable disease on treatment. But then again, only one patient showed a response where the tumor actually became smaller, and some showed no effect at all. There were also twelve serious adverse events in eight patients. That's not the sort of thing that you might have expected, given the breathless tone of the press coverage. Now, these results are absolutely enough to go on to a larger trial, and if they replicate (safety profile permitting), I'd certainly expect the drug to be approved, and to save the lives of some liposarcoma patients who might otherwise have no options. That's good news.
But is it "the beginning of a new genetic age in cancer research", to quote Gina Kolata's article? I don't see how. The genetic age of cancer has been underway for some time now, and it's been underway in the popular press for even longer. As for this example, there are several types of cancer for which a p53/MDM2 compound could be useful, but liposarcoma is probably the first choice, which is why it's being concentrated on in the clinic. And as far as I know, the number of cancer patients with mutated p53 proteins well outnumber the ones with intact p53 and overexpressed MDM2. These new compounds won't do anything for those people at all.
I sound like such a curmudgeon. But shouldn't there be some level of press coverage in between total silence and Dawn Of A Glorious New Era? I suppose that "Progress Being Made On Tough Drug Target" isn't the sort of hed that makes Page One. But that's the sort of headline that research programs generate.
Comments (19)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cancer | Clinical Trials | Press Coverage
December 21, 2012
Posted by Derek
Merck's Tredaptive (formerly Cordaptive) has had a long and troubled history. It's a combination of niacin and Laropiprant, which is there to try to reduce the cardiovascular (flushing) side effects of large niacin doses, which otherwise seem to do a good job improving lipid profiles. (Mind you, we don't seem to know how that works, and there's a lot of reason to wonder how well it works in combination with statins, but still).
The combination was rejected by the FDA back in 2008, but approved in Europe. Merck has been trying to shore up the drug ever since, and since the FDA told them that they would not approve without more data, the company has been running a 25,000-patient trial (oh, cardiovascular disease. . .) combining Tredaptive with statin therapy. In light of the last link in the paragraph above, one might have wondered how that was going to work out, since the NIH had to stop a large niacin-plus-statin study of their own. Well. . .
The European Medicines Agency has started a review of the safety and efficacy of Tredaptive, Pelzont and Trevaclyn, identical medicines that are used to treat adults with dyslipidaemia (abnormally high levels of fat in the blood), particularly combined mixed dyslipidaemia and primary hypercholesterolaemia.
The review was triggered because the Agency was informed by the pharmaceutical company Merck, Sharp & Dohme of the preliminary results of a large, long-term study comparing the clinical effects of adding these medicines to statins (standard medicines used to reduce cholesterol) with statin treatment alone. The study raises questions about the efficacy of the medicine when added to statins, as this did not reduce the risk of major vascular events (serious problems with the heart and blood vessels, including heart attack and stroke) compared with statin therapy alone. In addition, in the preliminary results a higher frequency of non-fatal but serious side effects was seen in patients taking the medicines than in patients only taking statins.
So much for Tredaptive, and (I'd say) so much for the idea of taking niacin and statins together. And it also looks like the FDA was on target here when they asked for more evidence from Merck. Human lipid biology, as we get reminded over and over, is very complicated indeed. The statin drugs, for all their faults, do seem to be effective, but (to repeat myself!) they also seem, more and more, to be outliers in that regard.
Comments (13)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials | Toxicology
December 20, 2012
Posted by Derek
Tiny Allon Therapeutics had an ambitious plan to go after progressive supranuclear palsy, a kind of progressive brain deterioration, and thence (they hoped) to other neurodegenerative disorders. The lead compound was davunetide, an oligopeptide derived from activity-dependent neuroprotective protein, ADNP.
It was a reasonable idea, but neurodegeneration is not a reasonable area. The drug has now completely wiped out in the clinic, failing both primary endpoints in its pivotal trial. This is one example of the sort of research that most people don't ever hear about, from a small company that most people will never have heard of at all. But this is the background activity of drug research (with an all-too-common outcome), and if more people were aware of it, perhaps that would be a good thing (see today's other post).
Comments (8)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | The Central Nervous System
December 13, 2012
Posted by Derek
Now, here's something useful for all of us in drug discovery and development: "The Mayan Doomsday’s effect on survival outcomes in clinical trials":
There is a great deal of speculation concerning the end of the world in December 2012, coinciding with the end of the Mesoamerican Long Count calendar (the “Maya calendar”). Such an event would undoubtedly affect population survival and, thus, survival outcomes in clinical trials. Here, we discuss how the outcomes of clinical trials may be affected by the extinction of all mankind and recommend appropriate changes to their conduct. In addition, we use computer modelling to show the effect of the apocalypse on a sample clinical trial
I especially like the comparative survival curves, with and without the destruction of all life factored in. I wonder if a Bayesian trial design would be able to handle the End of Days more gracefully?
Comments (7)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials
Posted by Derek
No one told me that it was "Rheumatoid arthritis clinical disaster day for companies that have enough to worry about already", but apparently that's what it is. AstraZeneca doesn't have an awful lot in its late-stage pipeline, but one of the things in it is a Syk inhibitor licensed in from Rigel, Fostamatinib. (More accurately, that's a phosphate ester prodrug of the Rigel compound - check out the structure and you'll see why a prodrug approach might have been necessary).
That's positioned as an orally active anti-inflammatory, to go up against Humira and the like. Back in Phase IIa it looked promising, although there have been concerns about blood pressure effects (disclosure of which has led to some hard feelings among some investors). But a new trial head-to-head against Humira in rheumatoid arthritis patients, it definitely comes up short. A Phase III trial will report next year, but what are the odds that it'll turn this one into a success?
And Eli Lilly is another company that doesn't need any more bad news, but they're stopping an RA therapy, too. Tabalumab, an antibody against B-cell activating factor, is also targeting the TNF pathway. This trial was in RA patients who were not responsive to methotrexate therapy, and was halted for sheer lack of efficacy, which is disturbing, since the antibody had (up until now) shown reasonable data. Lilly says that they're suspending enrollment in the clinic until they see the results (next year) of their ongoing trials.
Comments (6)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials
December 12, 2012
Posted by Derek
I'm a bit baffled by Eli Lilly's strategy on Alzheimer's. Not the scientific side of it - they're going strongly after the amyloid hypothesis, with secretase inhibitors and antibody therapies, and if I were committed to the amyloid hypothesis, that's probably what I'd be doing, too. It is, after all, the strongest idea out there for the underlying mechanism of the disease. (But is it strong enough? Whether or not amyloid is the way to go is the multibillion dollar question that can really only be answered by spending the big money in Phase III trials against it, unfortunately).
No, what puzzles me is the company's publicity effort. As detailed here and here, the company recently made too much (it seemed to me and many others) of the results for solanezumab, their leading antibody therapy. Less hopeful eyes could look at the numbers and conclude that it did not work, but Lilly kept on insisting otherwise.
And now we have things like this:
"We are on the cusp here of writing medical history again as a company, this time in Alzheimer's disease," Jan Lundberg, Lilly's research chief, said in an interview.
Just as the Indianapolis-based company made history in the 1920s by producing the first insulin when type 1 diabetes was a virtual death sentence, Lundberg said he is optimistic that the drugs Lilly is currently testing could significantly slow the ultimately fatal memory-robbing disease.
"It is no longer a question of 'if' we will get a successful medicine for this devastating disease on the market, but when," said Lundberg, 59.
Ohhh-kay. The problems here are numerous. For one thing, as Lundberg (an intelligent man) well knows, insulin-for-diabetes is a much straighter shot than anything we know of for Alzheimer's. It was clear, when Lilly got their insulin business underway, that the most devastating symptoms of type I diabetes were caused by lack of insulin production in the body, and that providing that insulin was the obvious remedy. Even if it did nothing for the underlying cause of the disease (and it doesn't), it was a huge step forward. As for Alzheimer's, I understand that what Lundberg and Lilly are trying to get across here is the idea of a "successful medicine", rather than a "cure". Something that just slows Alzheimer's down noticeably would indeed be a successful medicine.
But "when, not if"? With what Lilly has in the clinic? After raising hopes by insisting that the Phase III results for solanezumab were positive, the company now says that. . .well, no, it's not going to the FDA for approval. It will, instead, conduct a third Phase III trial. This decision came after consulting with regulators in the the US and Europe, who no doubt told them to stop living in a fantasy world. So, sometime next year, Lilly will start enrolling for another multiyear shot at achieving some reproducible hint of efficacy. Given the way solanezumab has performed so far, that's about the best that could be hoped for, that it works a bit in some people, sometimes, for a while, as far as can be told in a large statistical sample. Which sets up this situation, I fear.
And this is "on the cusp. . .of writing medical history"? Look, I would very much like for Lilly, for anyone, to write some medical history against Alzheimer's. But saying it will not make it so.
Comments (19)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Alzheimer's Disease | Clinical Trials
December 4, 2012
Posted by Derek
One Alzheimer's compound recently died off in the clinic - Bristol-Myers Squibb's avagacestat, a gamma-secretase inhibitor, has been pulled from trials. The compound "did not establish a profile that supported advancement" to Phase III, says the company. Gamma-secretase has been a troubled area for some time, highlighted by the complete failure of Lilly's semagacestat. I wondered, when that one cratered, what they were thinking at BMS, and now we know.
But Merck is getting all the attention in Alzheimer's today. They've announced that their beta-secretase inhibitor, MK-8931, is moving into Phase III, and the headlines are. . .well, they're mostly just not realistic. "Hope for Alzheimer's", "Merck Becomes Bigger Alzheimer's Player", and so on. My two (least) favorites are "Merck Races to Beat Lilly Debut" and "Effective Alzheimer's Drug May Be Just Three Years Away." Let me throw the bucket of cold water here: that first headline is extremely unlikely, and the second one is insane.
As I've said here several times, I don't think that there's going to be any big Lilly debut into Alzheimer's therapy with their lead antibody candidate, solanezumab. (And if there is, we might regret it). The company does have a beta-secretase (BACE) inhibitor, but that's not what these folks are talking about. And looking at Merck's compound, you really have to wonder if there's ever going to be one there, either. I like Fierce Biotech's headline a lot better: "Merck Ignores Red Flags and Throws Dice on PhII/III Alzheimer's Gamble". That, unfortunately, is a more realistic appraisal.
It's interesting, though, that Merck is testing this approach in a patient population that includes patients with moderate cases. After solanezumab and bapineuzumab appears to have hit that target without any clear signal that they had improved symptoms for patients with more fully developed cases, there has been a growing move to shift R&D into earlier-stage patients, whose brains have not already been seriously damaged by the disease. Merck is likely to face growing skepticism that it can succeed with the amyloid hypothesis when tackling the same population that hasn't delivered positive data.
And BACE has been a rough place to work in over the years. The literature is littered with oddities, since finding a potent compound that will also be selective and get into the brain has been extremely difficult. I actually applaud Merck for having the nerve to try this, but it really is a big roll of the dice, and there's no use pretending otherwise. I wish that the headlines would get that across, as part of a campaign for a more realistic idea of what drug discovery is actually like.
Comments (17)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Alzheimer's Disease | Clinical Trials
November 21, 2012
Posted by Derek
I can't even count the number of e-mails I've gotten over the last few years asking about TauRx and their Alzheimer's program, which made a big splash back in 2008. Finally, there's some news to report. The company is starting Phase III clinical trials, and has announced new financing to see these through. The company is based in Singapore, and they're getting money from a large multinational company in the region.
Good for them. The tau-based therapy they're working on is a very interesting idea, and (of course) extremely significant if it actually works. I'm happy to see that it's going to get a real chance to prove itself, and I look forward to seeing the results. Their earlier compound ("Rember") was reformulated methylene blue, but they now seem to have an improved version to go ahead with (and not just in Alzheimer's, apparently).
I know I'll get more mail about this, but let me save time by telling those interested to go here, to a site run by TauRx about their clinical trials. It seems that they have started enrolling patients in North America.
Comments (18)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Alzheimer's Disease | Clinical Trials
November 20, 2012
Posted by Derek
Here's something from just this morning, a whopping large case on illegal trading in Wyeth and Elan stock. This one involves a hedge fund manager, Mathew Martoma, and (quite disturbingly), Dr. Sidney Gilman of the University of Michigan, who was the lead investigator on a very large bapineuzumab trial for Alzheimer's. His conduct appears, from the text of the complaint, to be completely inexcusable, just a total, raw tipoff of confidential information.
I blogged at the time about the trial results, not knowing, of course, that someone had been pre-warned and was trading 20 per cent of Elan's stock volume on the news (and at least ten per cent of Wyeth's). So I take back anything I said about insider trading cases becoming more small-time over the years; this case has jerked the average right back up.
Update: Adam Feuerstein on Twitter: "Gilman's presentation of bapi data at 2008 ICAD meeting was so poorly done. It was shockingly bad. Now we know why."
Comments (18)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Alzheimer's Disease | Business and Markets | Clinical Trials | The Dark Side
November 12, 2012
Posted by Derek
The overhyped nature of stem cell therapies is a topic that's come up here several times. In the latest developments, Pluristem, Inc., is threatening to sue Bloomberg New for their recent report, titled "Girl Dies As Pluristem Sells On Gains With Miracle Cells". Gosh, it's hard to see why the company would take exception to a headline like that, but here's how the piece leads off, in case things weren't clear:
Pluristem Therapeutics Inc.’s (PSTI) stock doubled in Nasdaq trading from May through September, helped by three news releases announcing that patients’ lives had been saved by injections of the company’s experimental stem cells.
After the stock soared on the positive news, two top executives profited by selling shares at the highest price in more than four years as part of a pre-determined program. When the first of those patients, a 7-year-old girl with a bone- marrow disease, died four months after the company said her life had been saved, Pluristem was silent. The company raised $34 million selling shares a week later.
Not so good. But as that link in the first paragraph shows, Pluristem's response has not cleared things up very much. In the same press release in which they demanded a correction from Bloombert, they revealed that another of their three initial patients had also died after four months, which also had not been announced before. The earlier press releases for all three patients are well-stocked with phrases like "medical miracle" and "life-saving". As long as this sort of thing is going on, the stem cell field will continue to have problems.
Update: interestingly, this post seems to have brought a lot of Pluristem's stock market fans flocking. And I mean this in the best possible way, but their appearance here does not inspire confidence.
Comments (29)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Press Coverage
October 31, 2012
Posted by Derek
Solanezumab is a story that won't go away. Eli Lilly's antibody therapy for Alzheimer's is the subject of a lot of arguing among investors: some people (and I'm one of them) think that there is no strong evidence for its efficacy, not yet, and that the amount of time and effort devoted to finding that out means that there likely isn't any meaningful efficacy to be found. Others are more optimistic, which is why Lilly's stock has risen in recent months.
The latest point of contention is an independent analysis of biomarker data which came out this week at a conference in Monaco. This suggests that there was a meaningful change in the amount of circulating beta-amyloid after treatment, which could mean that the antibody was working as planned to increase clearance of soluble amyloid, thus altering the amyloid balance in the CNS. It should be noted that this line of attack depends on several factors - first among them, that amyloid is a causative factor in Alzheimer's, and secondly, that clearing it from the periphery can affect its concentration and distribution inside the brain. There's evidence for both of these, and there's evidence against both of them. Such questions can only be answered in the clinic, and I'm glad that Lilly, Roche/Genentech, and others are trying to answer them.
What I want to focus on today, though, is an issue that comes up in passing in the Fierce Biotech link above:
Biomarkers and pooled data may help support further studies of the drug, as well as other programs that rest on the beta amyloid hypothesis, but they don't prove that solanezumab works as hoped. Nevertheless, the first sign of success in this field has fueled tremendous enthusiasm that something in the pipeline could eventually work--perhaps even pushing regulators to approve new therapies with something less than clear efficacy data. And any newly approved drug would find a massive market of millions of desperate patients.
That's a big "perhaps", one that's worth tens of billions of dollars. What I worry about is pressure building for the FDA to approve an Alzheimer's therapy (solanezumab or something else) based on these hints of mechanistic efficacy. The problem is, solanezumab hasn't shown much promise of improving the lives of actual Alzheimer's patients. Lilly's own trials showed a possible improvement in a measure of cognitive decline, but this did not show up again in a second patient group, even when they specifically modified the endpoints of the trial to look for it. And neither group showed any functional effects at all, which I think are what most Alzheimer's patients (and their family members) would really want to see.
But there really is such a huge demand for something, anything, with any hint of hope. People would line up to buy anything that got FDA approval, no matter how tenuous the evidence was. And that puts the agency in a very tough position, similar to the one it was in with the Avastin breast cancer issue. Update: there was, to be sure, more of a safety question with Avastin at the same time. You can argue that one of the main purposes of the agency is to make sure that medicines that people can be prescribed in this country will actually do some good, rather than raise hopes for nothing. You could also argue that responsible adults - and their physicians, and their insurance companies - should be able to make such choices for themselves, and should be able to spend their time and money in the ways that they best see fit. You could argue that companies with marginally effective (or ineffective) therapies face a huge moral hazard, in that their incentives are to get such treatments onto the market whether they do anyone else any good or not. None of these are foolish positions, but they are also, in places, mutually incompatible. Alzheimer's disease might well turn into the next place in which we thrash them out.
Comments (17)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Alzheimer's Disease | Clinical Trials | Drug Prices | Regulatory Affairs
October 26, 2012
Posted by Derek
True, but that's unfair to lemmings. This is Raghuram Selveraju of Aegis Capital, talking about deal-making executives in the big pharma companies and the string of costly blowups so far this year. That link has the list, and it's quite an impressive string of fireballs.
“What all of these deals had in common was the desperation of big pharma, because its R&D productivity has been dropping and we’ve known that for a long time,” he said.
That desperation leads to the repetition of familiar mistakes which derive from the predictable thinking of too many business development executives at big pharma, Selveraju opined. First, when looking for licensing opportunities, pharmas very often seek out their comfort zone – a potential product for which they can deploy an existing sales force or promote to doctors they already know and communicate with. Also, to be confident in an experimental drug’s preclinical and clinical data, pharmas often want to go into areas where their competitors also have a compound as well as into validated targets.
“Basically, they’re a bunch of lemmings,” Selveraju said. “As soon as a target becomes hot, they all have to have a molecule in that space, hitting that target."
But who could blame them? Going out into areas that haven't been explored, or haven't worked out for others, can get you slaughtered, too (ask Eli Lilly about Alzheimer's). And when that happens, you have nowhere to hide. If everyone else was rushing into a given therapeutic area and it turns out to be a disaster, well, you yourself might be able to get by, because that's just one of those things, and it happened to everyone at the same time. It reminds me of something I saw years ago about investment managers. If you go out and buy a bunch of (say) IBM for your clients and it drops, people might say "Man, what's wrong with IBM?" But if you go out and buy a bunch of WhoZat, Inc., and it drops, people will ask what's wrong with you.
My own biases make me think that if the chances for failure are high both ways, then maybe you should go ahead and strike out for the unknown territory, because the payoff is larger if you succeed. Selveraju himself has a much more cautious (and perhaps outright dispiriting) recommendation:
What then is Selveraju’s prescription for better business development practices? It might disappoint those who want pharma to be in the vanguard of innovation. He recommends incremental innovation – using FDA’s 505b2 pathway to develop products with already defined efficacy and safety – as well as biosimilars and re-purposing. Pharma also should focus on niche and specialty indications, and largely eliminate primary care products and the large commercial operations that come with them.
That's cranking up the dial even more on the Bernard Munos strategy. Munos also recommends getting out of the big, expensive areas and going more for niche and specialty ones, but mainly because of the cost of the clinical trials (and the validation step inherent in them). Alzheimer's, for example, scores big on innovation, but very, very poorly on the risk/cost ratio, since it's going to take you years and years in huge clinical trials to see if you've got something.
But that "develop products with already defined efficacy and safety" line is Selveraju’s own, and doesn't that sound like loads of fun? Coming up with new formulations and dosing schedules of existing drugs is what a 505(b)(2) strategy amounts to, and it brings up thoughts of alternative careers - going off to trucking school and learning to drive the big rigs, for example. Actually, as a drug-discovery chemist, that's probably what I'd end up doing if everyone switched to that plan, since you certainly don't need people like me if you're five-oh-five-bee-twoing.
Comments (21)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Business and Markets | Clinical Trials | Regulatory Affairs
October 18, 2012
Posted by Derek
One of the questions I get asked most often, by people outside of the drug industry, is whether generic medications really are the same as the original branded ones. My answer has always been the same: that yes, they are. And that's still my answer, but I'll have to modify it a bit, because we're seeing an exception right now. Update: more exceptions are showing up in the comments section.
Unfortunately, "right now" turns out, in this case, to mean "over the last five years". The problem here is bupropion (brand name Wellbutrin), the well-known antidepressant. A generic version of it came on the market in 2006, and it went through the usual FDA review. For generic drugs, the big question is bioequivalence: do they deliver the same ingredient in the same way as the originally approved drug and formulation? The agency requires generic drug applications to show proof of this for their own version.
For bupropion/Wellbutrin, the case is complicated by the two approved doses, 150mg and 300mg. The higher dose is associated with a risk of seizures, which made the FDA grant a waiver for its testing - they extrapolated from the 150mg data instead. And right about here is where the red flags began to go up. The agency began to receive reports, almost immediately, of trouble with the 300mg generic dose. In many cases, these problems (lack of efficacy and/or increased side effects) resolved when patients switched back to the original branded formulation. That link also shows the pharamacokinetic data comparing the two 150mg dosages (branded and generic), which turned out to have some differences, mostly in the time it took to reach the maximum concentration (the generic came on a bit faster).
At the time, though, as that link shows, the FDA decided that because of the complicated clinical course of depression (and antidepressant therapy) that they couldn't blame the reported problems on a difference between the two 300mg products. A large number of patients were taking each one, and the number of problems reported could have been explained by the usual variations:
The FDA considers the generic form of bupropion XL 300 mg (Teva Pharmaceuticals) bioequivalent and therapeutically equivalent to (interchangeable with) Wellbutrin XL 300 mg. Although there are small differences in the pharmacokinetic profiles of these two formulations, they are not outside the established boundaries for equivalence nor are they different from other bupropion products known to be effective. The recurrent nature of (major depression) offers a scientifically reasonable explanation for the reports of lack of efficacy following a switch to a generic product. The adverse effects (e.g., headache, GI disorder, fatigue and anxiety) reported following a switch were relatively few in number and typical of adverse drug events reported in drug and placebo groups in most clinical trials. . .
But they seem to have changed their minds about this. It appears that reports continued to come in, and were associated most frequently with the generic version marketed by Teva (and produced by Impax Pharmaceuticals). That FDA page I've quoted above is not dated, but appears to come from late 2007 or so. As it turns out, the agency was at that time asking Teva to conduct that missing bioequivalence study with their 300mg product. See Q12 on this page:
FDA continued to review postmarketing reports throughout 2007. In November 2007, taking into consideration reports of lack of efficacy, FDA requested that Impax/Teva conduct a bioequivalence study directly comparing Budeprion XL 300 mg to Wellbutrin XL 300 mg. The study protocol stipulated the enrollment of patients who reported problems after switching from Wellbutrin XL 300 mg to Budeprion XL 300 mg. Impax/Teva began the study, but terminated it in late 2011, reporting that despite efforts to enroll patients, Impax/Teva was unable to recruit a significant number of affected patients.
The agency apparently was continuing to receive reports of problems, because they ended up deciding to run their own study, which is an uncommon move. This got underway before Teva officially gave up on their study, which gives one the impression that the FDA did not expect anything useful from them by that point:
In 2010, because of the public health interest in obtaining bioequivalence data, FDA decided to sponsor a bioequivalence study comparing Budeprion XL 300 mg to Wellbutrin XL 300 mg. The FDA-sponsored study enrolled 24 healthy adult volunteers and examined the rate and extent of absorption of the two drug products under fasting conditions. In that study, the results of which became available in August 2012, Budeprion XL 300 mg failed to demonstrate bioequivalence to Wellbutrin XL 300 mg.
That FDA-sponsored study is what led to the recent decision to pull the Imapax/Teva 300mg product from the market. Their 150mg dosage is still approved, and doesn't seem to have been associated with any increased reports of trouble (despite the small-but-real PK differences noted above). And it's also worth noting that there are four other generic 300mg bupropion/Wellbutrin products out there, which do not seem to have caused problems.
How big a difference are we talking about here? There are several measurements that are used for measuring blood levels of a drug. You have Cmax, the maximum concentration that is seen at a given dosage, and there's also Tmax, the time at which that maximum concentration occurs. And if you plot blood levels versus time, you also get AUC (area under the curve), which is a measure of the total exposure that a given dose provides. There are a lot of ways these measurements can play out: a very quickly absorbed drug will have an early Tmax and a large Cmax, for example, but that concentration might come back down quickly, too, which could lead to a lower AUC than a formulation of the same drug (at the same nominal dose) that came on more slowly and spread out over a longer time period. To add to the fun, some drugs have efficacy that's more driven by how high their Cmax values can get, while others are more driven by how large the AUCs are. And in the case of bupropion/Wellbutrin, there's an additional complication: some of the drug's efficacy is due to a metabolite, a further compound produced in the liver after dosing, and such metabolites have their own PK profiles, too.
So in this case, it turns out that the AUC just missed on the low side. The FDA wants the statistical 90% confidence interval to fall between 80 and 125% compared to the original drug, and in this case the 90% CI was 77-96%. The Cmax was definitely lower, too - 90% CI was 65-87% of the branded product. And while the agency doesn't provide numbers for the metabolite, they also state that it missed meeting the standards as well. There are drugs, it should be said, that would still be effective at these levels, but Wellbutrin clearly isn't one of them.
My own take is that the FDA was willing to consider the adverse reports as just the usual noisy clinical situation with an antidepressant until the other generics were approved, at which point it became clear that the problems were clustering around the Impax/Teva product. Here's how the FDA addresses the "Why didn't we find out about this earlier?" question:
Q17. In retrospect, were FDA’s decisions regarding the approval and ongoing monitoring of Budeprion XL 300 mg appropriate?
A17. A less cautious approach in studying the bioequivalence of Budeprion XL 300 mg could have brought the data to light earlier. The FDA-sponsored study was completed only weeks ago, which is a very short time for data from a clinical experiment to be announced to the public.
Bupropion is associated with a risk for seizures, which was the basis of the Agency's cautious approach with regard to the early Budeprion XL bioequivalence studies, in which data were extrapolated from Budeprion XL 150 mg in patients to the projected consequences of exposure to Budeprion 300 mg. In retrospect, it is clear that this extrapolation did not provide the right conclusion regarding bioequivalence of Budeprion XL 300 mg. FDA also has much more knowledge today of the seizure-associated risk of bupropion-containing drugs. The trial design of the sponsor-initiated study of 2007 could have been successful, had it been replaced by the trial design employed in the recent FDA-sponsored study.
Of course, the trial design in the sponsor-initiated study of 2007 was that requested by the FDA. But Teva, for their part, does not appear to have been a ball of fire in getting that study recruited and completed, either. It's quite possible, though, that they couldn't round up enough patients who'd had trouble with the generic switch and were also willing to go back and experience that again in the cause of science. Overall, I think that the FDA is more on the hook here for letting things go on as long as they did, but there's plenty of blame to go around.
Still, I find this post at Forbes to be full of unnecessary hyperventilation. You wouldn't know, from reading it, that the FDA initially waived the requirement for 300mg testing in this case because of the risk of seizures. There's a line in there about how the agency is making patients their guinea pigs by not testing at the higher dose, but you could have scored the same debating points after a 300mg study that harmed its patients, which is what it looked at the time would happen. You also wouldn't know that the other generic 300mg formulations don't seem to have been associated with increased adverse-event reports, either.
And that post makes much of the way that these bioequivalence tests are left up the manufacturers. That they are: but if you want to change that, you're going to have to (1) fund the FDA at a much higher level, and (2) wait longer for generic switches to occur. The generic manufacturers will run these tests at the absolute first possible moment, since they want to get onto the market. The FDA will run them when they get around to it; they don't have the same incentives at all. Their incentives, in fact, oscillate between "Don't approve - there might be trouble" and "Definitely approve - we might be missing out on benefit". The winds of fortune blow the line between those two around all the time.
In this case, I think the FDA should have exercised its court-of-last-resort function earlier and more forcefully. But that's easy for me to say, sitting where I am. I don't have to see the mass of noisy adverse event reports coming in over the transom day after day. If the agency acted immediately and forcefully on every one, we'd have no drugs on the market at all. There's a middle ground, but boy, is it hard to find.
Comments (42)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Regulatory Affairs | The Central Nervous System
October 12, 2012
Posted by Derek
I wrote here about a prospective Alzheimer's trial that's starting soon among a population in Colombia, and now comes word of another large effort along the same lines. DIAN, the Dominantly Inherited Alzheimer's Network, will test several current Alzheimer's candidates in groups of people around the world with genetic mutations that make them susceptible to the disease. The hope is that these different mutations will provide a fast-forward-button look at the progress of Alzheimer's in the general population, and help to settle the question of which mechanisms (if any) are appropriate to fight it. They'll go two years of clinical observation (memory tests and brain imaging), and then the plan is to switch everyone to the most efficacious therapy and continue monitoring for real-world benefits.
Currently, it looks like there will be three candidates, with two from Eli Lilly: their beta-secretase inhibitor LY2886721, and their circulating-amyloid antibody Solanezumab, currently the subject of controversy about its efficacy or lack of same. The Roche antibody gantenerumab, which appears to bind more to amyloid that's already precipitated, completes the trio.
This is an excellent idea, and I'm very glad to see so much work being done on prospective trials like these. There's always the danger that working in genetic-mutation populations will give you an answer that's not generally applicable, but I think that we know enough about the specific mutations to make a call on that, should anything stand out. The worry, naturally, is that nothing will stand out. The DIAN trial and the Roche crenezumab trial in Colombia are all aimed at various parts of the amyloid hypothesis, which has been the dominant strain of thought in Alzheimer's etiology for decades. If nothing distinctive comes out of these efforts, that hypothesis will have taken some major hits - but they'll have to be major hits to damage it in the first place.
The best result will be if something looks useful in preventative or early-stage Alzheimer's. Second best would be a painful realization that the amyloid hypothesis is insufficient. And way down at the bottom would be a bunch of "Well, maybe. . ." clinical data showing that some of the agents seemed to help some of the patients, some of the time, to an extent, but maybe not enough to be effective by real-world standards. Anything but that, please.
Comments (10)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Alzheimer's Disease | Clinical Trials
October 11, 2012
Posted by Derek
GlaxoSmithKline took an unusual step today: they announced that they're opening up clinical trial data:
"GSK is fully committed to sharing information about its clinical trials. It posts summary information about each trial it begins and shares the summary results of all of its clinical trials – whether positive or negative – on a website accessible to all. Today this website includes almost 4,500 clinical trial result summaries and receives an average of almost 10,000 visitors each month. The company has also committed to seek publication of the results of all of its clinical trials that evaluate its medicines – regardless of what the results say – to peer-reviewed scientific journals.
Expanding further on its commitments to openness and transparency, GSK also announced today that the company will create a system that will enable researchers to access the detailed anonymised patient-level data that sit behind the results of clinical trials of its approved medicines and discontinued investigational medicines. To ensure that this information will be used for valid scientific endeavour, researchers will submit requests which will be reviewed for scientific merit by an independent panel of experts and, where approved, access will be granted via a secure web site. This will enable researchers to examine the data more closely or to combine data from different studies in order to conduct further research, to learn more about how medicines work in different patient populations and to help optimise the use of medicines with the aim of improving patient care."
I very much applaud this step, and I very much hope that the rest of the industry follows suit. We're getting a lot of flack - and we deserve it - for the way that we handle clinical trial data, with accusations of cherry-picking, data-burying, and all the associated sins. (Ben Goldacre has a book out on the drug industry, which I'm going to read more of before posting on, and he's taken the industry to task on this very point in it). The only cure for this will be to open the books as much as possible - saying "Trust us" will not cut it, and (unfortunately), neither will trying to say "None of your business".
Here's a look at this idea from John Carroll at FierceBiotech. So, Pfizer, Novartis, Merck, all the rest of you? What's the response?
Comments (14)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Why Everyone Loves Us
October 9, 2012
Posted by Derek
"Hope Rises For Alzheimer's Treatment, Scientists Say". Not this scientist. That's a composite of headlines, but it captures the unfortunate tone.
We're talking about solanezumab, Eli Lilly's antibody therapy. The company presented analysis of their trial data yesterday, and put a very optimistic face on things. But wait, you say, didn't Lilly already report on this? And didn't the drug miss all its endpoints? Yes, indeed it did. But this is a secondary analysis by the Alzheimer's Disease Cooperative Study, a third-party look at the data. It's hard for me to imagine an optimistic take on the numbers that Lilly itself didn't find, to be honest, but here we have it:
But after a secondary analysis of the first study showed that there was a 42% reduction in the rate of cognitive decline among a subpopulation of patients in the solanezumab arm with only a mild form of the disease, investigators decided to hunt for confirmation of that endpoint in a second Phase III. They didn't find it, seeing the numbers fall short of statistical significance after switching from one measure (ADAS- Cog11) to another (ADAS-Cog14). But by "pooling" the data they came up with a 34% reduction in cognitive decline in that particular group. None of the data indicated a significant reduction in the rate of functional decline.
This looks to me like grasping at straws. I understand that people want to see any tiny edge of possible efficacy as an avenue for further research, but I can't help but think that the path to an effective Alzheimer's therapy would announce itself a bit more clearly than this. Anything should. Chasing after these sorts of results looks like the path to another Phase III trial that might just manage to miss its endpoints by an even narrower margin. The best one could hope for would be a therapy that might, possibly, help a few patients in the early stage of the disease a bit, for a while. Maybe.
The problem is that the pent-up need for anything effective in Alzheimer's is so great that vast hordes of people will likely rush to take anything - or put their aging relatives on anything - that might offer any shred of hope. And I know just where those people are coming from, and I sympathize greatly. Eli Lilly, for its part, is strongly motivated to have something in its large and expensive Alzheimer's portfolio actually work - the company is facing a very, very rough time with its patent expirations, and something like this is about the only thing that could pull them back from the cliff. On all sides, this is not a situation that encourages sound decision-making.
Comments (20)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Alzheimer's Disease | Clinical Trials
September 21, 2012
Posted by Derek
A list of big pharma companies have announced that they're setting up a joint venture, Trancelerate, to try to address common precompetitive drug development problems. But that covers a broad area, and this collaboration is more narrowly focused:
Members of TransCelerate have identified clinical study execution as the initiative's initial area of focus. Five projects have been selected by the group for funding and development, including: development of a shared user interface for investigator site portals; mutual recognition of study site qualification and training; development of risk-based site monitoring approach and standards; development of clinical data standards; and establishment of a comparator drug supply model.
Now, that paragraph is hard to get through, I have to say. I understand what they're getting at, and these are all worthy objectives, but I think it could be boiled down to saying "We're going to try not to duplicate each other's work so much when we're setting up clinical trials and finding places to run them. They cost so much already that it's silly for us all to spend money doing the same things that have to be done every time." And other than this, details are few. The initiative will be headquartered in Philadelphia, but that seems to be about it so far.
But this it won't get at the fundamental problems in drug research. Our clinical failure rate of around 90% has very little to do with the factors that Transcelerate is addressing - what they're trying to do is make that failure rate less of a financial burden. That's certainly worth taking on, in lieu of figuring out why our drugs crash and burn so often. That one is a much tougher problem, easily proven by the fact that there are billions of dollars waiting to be picked up for even partial solutions to it.
Comments (17)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Drug Development
September 10, 2012
Posted by Derek
Geron's telomerase inhibitor compound, imetalstat, showed a lot of interesting results in vitro, and has been in Phase II trials all this year. Until now. The company announced this morning that the interim results of their breast-cancer trial are so unpromising that it's been halted, and that lung cancer data aren't looking good, either. The company's stock has been cratering in premarket trading, and this stock analyst will now have some thinking to do, as will the people who followed his advice last week.
I'm sorry to see the first telomerase inhibitor perform so poorly; we need all the mechanisms we can get in oncology. And this is terrible news for Geron, since they'd put all their money down on this therapeutic area. But this is drug discovery; this is research: a lot of good, sensible, promising ideas just don't work.
That phrase comes to mind after reading this article from the Telegraph about some Swedish research into cancer therapy. It's written in a breathless style - here, see for yourself:
Yet as things stand, Ad5[CgA-E1A-miR122]PTD – to give it the full gush of its most up-to-date scientific name – is never going to be tested to see if it might also save humans. Since 2010 it has been kept in a bedsit-sized mini freezer in a busy lobby outside Prof Essand's office, gathering frost. ('Would you like to see?' He raises his laptop computer and turns, so its camera picks out a table-top Electrolux next to the lab's main corridor.)
Two hundred metres away is the Uppsala University Hospital, a European Centre of Excellence in Neuroendocrine Tumours. Patients fly in from all over the world to be seen here, especially from America, where treatment for certain types of cancer lags five years behind Europe. Yet even when these sufferers have nothing else to hope for, have only months left to live, wave platinum credit cards and are prepared to sign papers agreeing to try anything, to hell with the side-effects, the oncologists are not permitted – would find themselves behind bars if they tried – to race down the corridors and snatch the solution out of Prof Essand's freezer.
(By the way, does anyone have anything to substantiate that "five years behind Europe" claim? I don't.) To be sure, Prof. Essand tries to make plain to the reporter (Alexander Masters) that this viral therapy has only been tried in animals, that a lot of things work in animals that don't work in man, and so on. But given Masters' attitude towards medical research, there's only so much that you can do:
. . .Quacks provide a very useful service to medical tyros such as myself, because they read all the best journals the day they appear and by the end of the week have turned the results into potions and tinctures. It's like Tommy Lee Jones in Men in Black reading the National Enquirer to find out what aliens are up to, because that's the only paper trashy enough to print the truth. Keep an eye on what the quacks are saying, and you have an idea of what might be promising at the Wild West frontier of medicine. . .
I have to say, in my experience, that this is completely wrong. Keep an eye on what the quacks are saying, and you have an idea of what might have been popular in 1932. Or 1954. Quacks seize onto an idea and never, ever, let it go, despite any and all evidence, so quackery is an interminable museum of ancient junk. New junk is added all the time, though, one has to admit. You might get some cutting-edge science, if your idea of cutting-edge is an advertisement in one of those SkyMall catalogs you get on airplanes. A string of trendy buzzwords super-glued together does not tell you where science is heading.
But Masters means well with this piece. He wants to see Essend's therapy tried out in the clinic, and he wants to help raise money to do that (see the end of the article, which shows how to donate to a fund at Uppsala). I'm fine with that - as far as I can tell, longer shots than this one get into the clinic, so why not? But I'd warn people that their money, as with the rest of the money we put into this business, is very much at risk. If crowdsourcing can get some ideas a toehold in the clinical world, I'm all for it, but it would be a good thing in general if people realized the odds. It would also be a good idea if more people realized how much money would be needed later on, if things start to look promising. No one's going to crowdsource a Phase III trial, I think. . . .
Comments (12)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cancer | Clinical Trials | Drug Development
August 31, 2012
Posted by Derek
Eli Lilly has been getting shelled with bad news recently. There was the not-that-encouraging-at-all failure of its Alzheimer's antibody solanezumab to meet any of its clinical endpoints. But that's the good news, since that (at least according to the company) it showed some signs of something in some patients.
We can't say that about pomaglumetad methionil (LY2140023), their metabotropic glutamate receptor ligand for schizophrenia, which is being halted. The first large trial of the compound failed to meet its endpoint, and an interim analysis showed that the drug was unlikely to have a chance of making its endpoints in the second trial. It will now disappear, as will the money spent on it so far. (The first drug project I ever worked on was a backup for an antipsychotic with a novel mechanism, which also failed to do a damned thing in the clinic, and which experience perhaps gave me some of the ideas I have now about drug research).
This compound is an oral prodrug of LY404039, which has a rather unusual structure. The New York Times did a story about the drug's development a few years ago, which honestly makes rather sad reading in light of the current news. It was once thought to have great promise. Note the cynical statement in that last link about how it really doesn't matter if the compound works or not - but you know what? It did matter in the end. This was the first compound of its type, an attempt at a real innovation through a new mechanism to treat mental illness, just the sort of thing that some people will tell you that the drug industry never gets around to doing.
And just to round things off, Lilly announced the results of a head-to-head trial of its anticoagulant drug Effient versus (now generic) Plavix in acute coronary syndrome. This is the sort of trial that critics of the drug industry keep saying never gets run, by the way. But this one was, because Plavix is the thing to beat in that field - and Effient didn't beat it, although there might have been an edge in long-term followup.
Anticoagulants are a tough field - there are a lot of patients, a lot of money to be made, and a lot of room (in theory) for improvement over the existing agents. But just beating heparin is hard enough, without the additional challenge of beating cheap Plavix. It's a large enough patient population, though, that more than one drug is needed because of different responses.
There have been a lot of critics of Lilly's research strategy over the years, and a lot of shareholders have been (and are) yelling for the CEO's head. But from where I sit, it looks like the company has been taking a lot of good shots. They've had a big push in Alzheimer's, for example. Their gamma-secretase inhibitor, which failed in terrible fashion, was a first of its kind. Someone had to be the first to try this mechanism out; it's been a goal of Alzheimer's research for over twenty years now. Solanezumab was a tougher call, given the difficulties that Elan (and Wyeth/Pfizer, J&J, and so on) have had with that approach over the years. But immunology is a black box, different antibodies do different things in different people, and Lilly's not the only company trying the same thing. And they've been doggedly pursuing beta-secretase as well. These, like them or not, are still some of the best ideas that anyone has for Alzheimer's therapy. And any kind of win in that area would be a huge event - I think that Lilly deserves credit for having the nerve to go after such a tough area, because I can tell you that I've been avoiding it ever since I worked on it in the 1990s.
But what would I have spent the money on instead? It's not like there are any low-risk ideas crowding each other for attention. Lilly's portfolio is not a crazy or stupid one - it's not all wild ideas, but it's not all full of attempts to play it safe, either. It looks like the sort of thing any big (and highly competent) drug research organization could have ended up with. The odds are still very much against any drug making it through the clinic, which means that having three (or four, or five) in a row go bad on you is not an unusual event at all. Just a horribly unprofitable one.
Comments (26)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials | Drug Development | Drug Industry History | The Central Nervous System
August 24, 2012
Posted by Derek
Lilly has reported results from its anti-amyloid antibody, solanezumab, and. . .well, it's mixed. And it's either quite good news, or quite bad. You make the call.
The therapy missed its endpoints (both "cognitive and functional", according to the company) in two clinical trials, so that's clearly bad news. Progression of Alzheimer's disease was not slowed. But I'll let the company's press release tell the tale from there:
The EXPEDITION1 study did not meet co-primary cognitive and functional endpoints in the overall mild-to-moderate patient population; however, pre-specified secondary subgroup analyses in patients with mild Alzheimer's disease showed a statistically significant reduction in cognitive decline. Based on those results, Lilly modified the statistical analysis plan (SAP) for EXPEDITION2 prior to database lock to specify a single primary endpoint of cognition in the mild patient population. This revised primary endpoint did not achieve statistical significance.
Now, this news - what you've just read above - actually is sending Lilly's stock up as I write this, which tells you how beaten-down Eli Lilly investors are, or how beaten-down investors in Alzheimer's therapies are. Or both. The headlines are all about how the drug missed in these trials, but that the company sees some hope. But man, is it ever a faint one.
What I'm taking away from the company's statement is that they had a cognition endpoint defined at the beginning of the trial (as well they should). We can assume that it was not a wildly optimistic one; no one is wildly optimistic in this field. And solanezumab missed it in the first Phase III data. But the patients with milder Alzheimer's, when they looked more closely, showed a trend towards efficacy, so they modified the endpoints (that is, lowered the bar and narrowed down to a select population) in the data for the second Phase III before it finished up. And even then, the antibody missed. So what we have are trends, possible trends, but nothing that really gets to the level of statistical significance.
But note, they're talking cognitive efficacy, and there's nothing said about those functional endpoints. If I'm interpreting this right, that means that there was a trend towards efficacy in tests like remembering words and lists of numbers, but not a trend when it came to actually performing better in real-life circumstances. Am I seeing this correctly? Lilly will be presenting more data in October, and we'll know more then. But I'm not getting an optimistic feeling from all this.
I assume that the company is now talking about going back and rounding up a population of the mildest Alzheimer's patients it can find and giving solanezumab another shot. Given Lilly's pipeline and situation, I suppose I'd do the same thing, but this is really a back-to-the-wall move. I think that you'd want to see something in a functional endpoint to really make a case for the drug, for one thing, and out in the real world, diagnosing Alzheimer's that early is not so easy, as far as I know. Good luck to them, but they are really going to need it.
Comments (59)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Alzheimer's Disease | Clinical Trials
August 14, 2012
Posted by Derek
I wrote here about Ampyra, the multiple sclerosis drug from Acorda Therapeutics, one that came close to the record for "simplest chemical matter in a marketed drug". (As it happens, Biogen Idec is making sure that it doesn't even have the title of "simplest drug for multiple sclerosis", and the shadow of valproic acid looms over this entire competition).
That post mentioned some doubts that had been expressed about how effective Ampyra is for its target: improving gait in MS patients. And now those doubts are increasing, because the company has been asked to conduct a trial of a lower 5 mg dose of the drug along with the approved 10 mg one (which was associated with seizures in some patients). And neither one of them met the primary endpoint. As that link shows, the company has several explanations - different endpoint than used before, higher placebo response than usual, wider variety of patients - but those are all ex post facto. Acorda wouldn't have set up the trial like this in the first place if they didn't think that the approved dose would work, and it didn't.
For a drug with a rather narrow symptomatic indication, that's not good news. And it comes as Acorda is still trying to get the compound approved in Europe. The cost/benefit ratio usually can't stand a big hit to the "benefit" term.
Comments (2)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Regulatory Affairs | The Central Nervous System
August 8, 2012
Posted by Derek
What makes a cancer drug effective? What if it stops cancer from spreading when you give it to patients - is that effective, or not? This topic has come up around here before, but there may be a rather stark example of it unfolding with Aveo Pharmaceuticals and their drug tivozanib.
Earlier this year, the company announced results of a trial in renal cell carcinoma of their drug versus the Bayer/Onyx drug Nexavar (sorafenib), which is the standard of care. It's not like Nexavar does a great job in that indication, though - when it was going through clinical trials, it ran in RCC patients versus placebo, since - you guessed it - placebo was the standard of care at the time. And while Nexavar did show a benefit under those conditions, there are still plenty of patients that don't respond. Thus tivozanib, and its window of opportunity. The compound itself is in the same broad chemical class (bi-aryl ureas) as sorafenib.
The Phase III results for the Aveo drug showed an improvement in progression-free survival - tracking the time it takes for the cancer to start spreading again. But progression-free survival does not necessarily mean "survival", not in the sense that cancer patients and their relatives really care about. Dying in the same amount of time, albeit with redistributed tumor tissue, is not the endpoint that people are waiting for.
The company is, of course, monitoring the patients that it's treated. And there's the problem: the current data show, after one year, that 77% of the tivozanib-treated patients are still alive. But 81% of the sorafenib patients have survived, and the FDA has officially expressed concern about the way things are going. That sent Aveo's stock down sharply the other day, as well it might. But there could be a way out:
Aveo said in today’s statement that basically it’s possible the preliminary survival data could be misleading. That’s because in cancer trials like this one, cancer patients whose disease worsens on one drug can then go on to get a second drug which may help them. In this case, Aveo said 53 percent of the patients who were randomly assigned to get the Bayer/Onyx drug went on to get subsequent therapy after their disease worsened—and “nearly all” of them were given Aveo’s tivozanib. By contrast, only 17 percent of the patients who were randomly assigned to initially get the Aveo drug went on to get a subsequent therapy. So it’s possible that the patients in the Bayer/Onyx control group may be ending up living longer at least partly because of the Aveo drug they got later on.
We'll have to wait for more data to sort all this out. Until that point, Aveo (and its shareholders) are probably in for a bumpy ride. But it's worth remembering that renal cell carcinoma patients are having a rather harder time of it than anyone else in this story, and they're the people who will be watching this most closely of all. . .
Comments (13)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cancer | Clinical Trials
August 7, 2012
Posted by Derek
As expected (by all but the most relentlessly optimistic observers), the anti-Alzheimers antibody bapineuzumab has now failed in its most likely patient population. Results came out last night about from patients who do not carry the ApoE4 mutation, the only group that seemed to offer hope in earlier clinical trials. The therapy missed its endpoints versus placebo, and according to Pharmalot, subgroup analysis offered no hope that there was some further fraction of patients that might be responding. (You would have had to have been a pretty hardy investor to carry on even if something had shown up).
But apparently Pfizer and J&J are those hardy investors, because (as that link shows), they're apparently going on with an already-in-progress Phase II study of the antibody dosed subcutaneously. That baffles me - I don't know enough about antibody dosing to say if that makes a difference, but it seems odd to think that it would. And clinical work on another active immunization therapy is going on as well (as opposed to dosing a pre-made antibody).
Good luck to them on that - I mean that sincerely, because the Alzheimer's field needs any successes it can find. The immunological approach has been a long and hard one, and hasn't delivered much encouragement so far. But on the other hand, it's immunology, which means that it's still a wild black box in many ways and capable of all kinds of unexpected results. But that said, it's still hard to imagine that Eli Lilly's competing antibody solanezumab has much chance of working, at this point. We'll hear about that one soon, and I very much expect to be using the phrase "missed endpoints" again. I might be using the phrase "subgroup analysis", though, in which case the phrase "more money" will also make an appearance.
Comments (18)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Alzheimer's Disease | Clinical Trials
July 25, 2012
Posted by Derek
I wanted to point out this fine piece by Adam Feuerstein, "How to Tell When a Drug Company Fibs About Clinical Trial Results". The points he makes apply especially to small companies trying to stay afloat, but they can show up anywhere.
You need to look at when the trial started (and thus how long it took, relative to how long it should have taken), what the stated endpoints were before the trial, the time points at which these benefits (real and otherwise) occurred, and how the current trial results match up with previous ones. One general rule that I have, which Feuerstein also notes, is that when a company makes a big deal out of their investigational drug being safe/well-tolerated in a Phase II trial, that's a red flag. It's certainly a good thing that the drug was tolerated, but finding that out is not the point of Phase II.
But as the article details, clinical endpoints are where a lot of the hand-waving goes on. If a trial is designed well at all, it's run to look for the most clinically relevant signs that the investigators can think up - the ones that are going to make the patients, the physicians, the regulatory agencies, and the investors pay attention. And if a trial concludes and the company starts talking instead about various other benefits and trends that were seen in the data, while not making as big a deal out of the previously stated endpoints, well. . .there's a reason for that. It's not a good reason, and may not even be a very honorable one, but believe it, there is a reason.
Comments (15)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | The Dark Side
July 24, 2012
Posted by Derek
This long, long story may finally be coming to an end. Immune-based therapies against beta-amyloid (and the associated amyloid plaques) have been in development for many years now (an excellent review here), and Elan has been in the thick of it for most of that time. Phase II results for this antibody came out in 2008 (here's the publication), and since then, everyone's been waiting to see if anything good would come of the phase III trials.
But not with a lot of hope. That's because the Phase II data weren't too encouraging, press releases aside. The subset of patients with without the ApoE4 mutation showed what appeared to be some slowing in their rate of deterioration; the patients with have that mutation showed basically no beneficial effects at all (edited, got this reversed at first - DBL). There was a bit of biomarker data released earlier this year, which didn't convince people much one way or another. And now we have the numbers for the first of four Phase III trials.
Endpoints were not met - bapineuzumab seems to have definitely failed to help the patients in this study. Note that these were mild-to-moderate Alzheimer's patients who carry the ApoE4 mutation. There's another study going on with non-carriers, and two similar studies to these going on outside the US, but after this miss, what are the chances that they'll report anything beneficial? No, if we were going to see something, you'd think that we'd have seen it here. Edit: not necessarily so, because the only hints of efficacy in Phase II were in ApoE4 noncarriers. But that wasn't all that convincing, and my own advice is still not to get any hopes up for the results of the next study).
There's another odd feature to this news: Elan was working with Wyeth, who were acquired by Pfizer. They then signed another development deal with J&J (Janssen) to spread the risk around. The trial results that came out yesterday were from the Janssen end of things (Pfizer's paying for the outside-the-US trials). But the press release was from Pfizer - as far as I can see, J&J has not sent out anything yet. And as for Elan, their press release is titled: "Elan Announces Pfizer’s Release of A Top-Line Result In First Of Four Bapineuzumab Phase 3 Trials". It says nothing about what that result might be - just that Pfizer released it, and it reminds people that more results are coming. Hmm. Was it agreed on that Pfizer would be the people to release these results? Or is that the sound of gritted teeth in the distance?
One other question: will this result finally shake the faith of the people who've been buying Elan stock all these years? Or was the failure of patients to respond the fault of hedge funds and short sellers instead? You know, the usual suspects. . .
Comments (21)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Alzheimer's Disease | Clinical Trials
July 16, 2012
Posted by Derek
Looks like AstraZeneca's internal numbers agree with Matthew Herper's. The company was talking about its current R&D late last week, and this comment stands out:
Discovery head Mene Pangalos told reporters on Thursday that mistakes had been in the past by encouraging quantity over quality in early drug selection.
"If you looked at our output in terms of numbers of candidates entering the clinic, we were one of the most productive companies in the world, dollar for dollar. If you rated us by how many drugs we launched, we were one of the least successful," he said.
Yep, sending compounds to the clinic is easy - you just declare them to be Clinical Candidates, and the job is done. Getting them through the clinic, now, that's harder, because at that point you're encountering things that can't be rah-rah-ed. Viruses and bacteria, neurons and receptors and tumor cells, they don't care so much about your goals statement and your Corporate Commitment to Excellence. In the end, that's one of the things I like most about research: the real world has the last laugh.
The news aggregator Biospace has a particularly misleading headline on all this: "AstraZeneca Claims Neuroscience Shake-Up is Paying Off ; May Advance at Least 8 Drugs to Final Tests by 2015". I can't find anyone from AZ putting it in quite those terms, fortunately. That would be like saying that my decision, back in Boston, to cut costs by not filling my gas tank is paying off as I approach Philadelphia.
Comments (27)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Business and Markets | Clinical Trials | Drug Development
June 29, 2012
Posted by Derek
Has there ever been a less structurally appealing class of drugs than the cholesteryl ester transfer protein (CETP) inhibitors? Just look at that bunch. From left to right, that's Pfizer's torcetrapib (which famously was the first to crash and burn back in 2006), Roche's dalcetrapib (which was pulled earlier this year from the clinic, a contributing factor to the company's huge recent site closure), Merck's anacetrapib (which is forging on in Phase III), Lilly's evacetrapib (which when last heard from was also on track to go into Phase III), and a compound from Bristol-Myers Squibb, recently published, which must be at least close to their clinical candidate BMS-795311.

Man, is that ever an ugly-looking group of compounds. They look like fire retardants, or something you'd put in marine paint formulations to keep barnacles from sticking to the hull. Every one of them is wildly hydrophobic, most are heavy on aromatic rings, and on what other occasion did you ever see nine or ten fluorines on one drug molecule? But, as you would figure, this is what the binding site of CETP likes, and this is what the combined medicinal chemistry talents of some of the biggest drug companies in the world have been driven to. You can be sure that they didn't like it, but the nice-looking compounds don't inhibit CETP.
Will any of these fancy fluorocarbon nanoparticles make it through to the market, just on properties/idiosyncratic toxicity concerns alone? How do their inhibitory mechanisms differ, and what will that mean? Is inhibiting CETP even a good idea in the first place, or are we finding out yet more fascinating details about human lipoprotein handling? Money is being spent, even as you read this, to find out. And how.
Comments (22)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials | Toxicology
May 17, 2012
Posted by Derek
Alzheimer's disease is in the news, as the first major preventative drug trial gets underway. I salute the people who have made this happen, because we're bound to learn a lot from the attempt, even while I fear the chances for success are not that good.
A preventative trial for Alzheimer's would, under normal circumstances, be a nightmarish undertaking. The disease is quite variable and comes on slowly, and it's proven very difficult to predict who might start to show symptoms as they age. You'd be looking at dosing a very large number of people (thousands, even tens of thousands?) for a very long time (years, maybe a decade or two?) in order to have a chance at statistical significance. And you would, in the course of things, be giving a lot of drug to a lot of people who (in the end) would have turned out not to need it. No, it's no surprise that no one's gone that route.
But there's a way out of that impasse: find a population with some sort of amyloid-pathway mutation. Now you know exactly who will come down with symptoms, and (unfortunately) you also know that they're going to come down with them earlier and more quickly as well. There are several of these around the world; the "Swedish" and "Dutch" mutations are probably the most famous. There's a Colombian mutation too, with a well-defined patient population that's been studied for years, and that's where this new study will take place.
About 300 people will be given an experimental antibody therapy to amyloid protein, crenezumab. This was developed by AC Immune in Switzerland and licensed to Genentech, and is one of many amyloid-targeted antibodies that have come along over the years. (The best-known is bapineuzumab, currently in Phase III). Genentech (Roche) will be putting up the majority of the money for the trial ($65 million, with $16 million from the NIH and $15 million in private foundation money). Just in passing, weren't some people trying to convince everyone a year ago that it only costs $43 million total to develop a new drug? Har, har.
100 people with the mutation will get the antibody every two weeks, and 100 more will get placebo. There are also 100 non-carriers mixed in, who will all get placebo, because some carriers have indicated that they don't want to know their status. Everyone will go through a continuing battery of cognitive and psychological tests, as well as brain imaging and a great deal of blood work, which (if we're lucky) could furnish tips towards clinical biomarkers for future trials.
So overall, I think that this trial is an excellent idea, and I very much hope that a lot of useful information comes out of it. But I've no firm hopes that it will pan out therapeutically. This will be a direct test of the amyloid hypothesis for Alzheimer's, and although there's a tremendous amount of evidence for that line of thought, there's a lot against it as well. Anyone who really thinks they know what will happen in this situation hasn't thought hard enough about it. But that's the best kind of experiment, isn't it?
Comments (18)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Alzheimer's Disease | Clinical Trials | Drug Development
May 7, 2012
Posted by Derek
Roche has halted trials of its CETP inhibitor dalcetrapib. Many will remember the Pfizer compound in this class, torcetrapib, which went down catastrophically in Phase III back in 2006. In that case, deaths in the treatment group were higher than the placebo group, which will bring you to a screeching halt every time. The generally accepted story is that the compound's effects on blood pressure (and possibly electrolyte balance) negated its beneficial effects on lipoproteins. But was torcetrapib actually working? It certainly raised HDL levels - but is that enough?
You have to wonder. Dalcetrapib wasn't taken out by toxicity - it was dropped because of "a lack of clinically meaningful efficacy". Analysis of several Phase II trials seems to have shown no beneficial outcome in cardiovascular mortality and mobidity. So what is it that we don't know about CETP, about HDL, and about lipoprotein roles in cardiovascular disease in general? Quite a bit, is my guess.
Two companies that are very, very much pondering that question are Merck and Eli Lilly, both with competing CETP inhibitors in the clinic. Expect statement from each of them that they continue to have confidence in their clinical candidates. But behind the scenes, expect a lot of very intense re-evaluation.
Comments (32)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials
April 23, 2012
Posted by Derek
We should expect to see more of this sort of thing. The Wall Street Journal headline says it all: "Frustrated ALS Patients Concoct Their Own Drug". In this case, the drug appears to be sodium chlorite, which is under investigation as NP001 by Neuraltus Pharmaceuticals in Palo Alto. (Let's hope that isn't one of their lead structures at the top of their web site).
It is an accepted part of scientific lore that scientists sometimes use themselves in experiments, and cancer patients and others with life-threatening illnesses are known to self-medicate using concoctions of vitamins, special teas, and off-label medications. But the efforts of patients with ALS to come up with a home-brewed version of a drug still in early-stage clinical trials and not approved by the FDA is one of the most dramatic examples of how far the phenomenon of do-it-yourself science has gone.
A number of patients who have been involved in the Phase II trials of NP001 have been sharing information about it, and they and others have dug into the literature enough to be pretty sure that what Neuraltus is investigating is, indeed, some formulation of sodium chlorite. Here's one of them:
Mr. Valor first read about NP001 in a news release. He tracked down published papers that led him to believe the compound was sodium chlorite, a chemical that in various forms is used in municipal water treatment plants. A friend found online the scientists' patent filings. He also consulted an engineer in water treatment to learn more and read environmental reports to get insight into toxicity levels. The chemical is easy to order online and is inexpensive. He estimates he has spent less than $150 total.
Mixed in distilled water, the sodium chlorite is delivered through Mr. Valor's feeding tube three days a week, one week per month. He says he cautions participants that the chemical isn't as efficacious as NP001 and "that this is only to buy time until NP001 is available to all."
This case is the prefect situation for something like this to happen: a terrible disease, with an unfortunately fast clinical course, rare enough for a good fraction of the patient population to be very organized, along with an easily-available active agent. If NP001 were some sort of modified antibody, we wouldn't be having this discussion (although eventually, who knows?) And as much as I agree that Phase II and Phase III trials are necessary to find out if something really works or not, if I had ALS myself, I'd be doing what these people are doing, and if it were a family member affected, I'd be helping them mix the stuff up. With a condition like ALS, honestly, the risk/benefit ratio is pretty skewed.
If NP001 progresses, look for comment along the lines of "How can this little company get a patent on the use of this common chemical for this dread disease?" But as the WSJ article reports, the sodium chlorite mixtures that people are whipping up in their kitchens don't seem to be as effective as whatever NP001 is, for one thing. And Neuraltus is basically much of their existence on whether it works or not; they're taking on the risk and trouble of a proper investigation, and good for them. But it's true that many people who have ALS right now will not be around to see the end of a Phase III trial, and I can't blame them at all for doing whatever they can to try to get some of the benefits of this research in the interim.
Comments (23)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | The Central Nervous System
April 10, 2012
Posted by Derek
After that news of the Stanford professor who underwent just about every "omics" test known, I wrote that I didn't expect this sort of full-body monitoring to become routine in my own lifetime:
It's a safe bet, though, that as this sort of thing is repeated, that we'll find all sorts of unsuspected connections. Some of these connections, I should add, will turn out to be spurious nonsense, noise and artifacts, but we won't know which are which until a lot of people have been studied for a long time. By "lot" I really mean "many, many thousands" - think of how many people we need to establish significance in a clinical trial for something subtle. Now, what if you're looking at a thousand subtle things all at once? The statistics on this stuff will eat you (and your budget) alive.
I can now adduce some evidence for that point of view. The Institute of Medicine has warned that a lot of biomarker work is spurious. The recent Duke University scandal has brought these problems into higher relief, but there are plenty of less egregious (and not even deliberate) examples that are still a problem:
The request for the IOM report stemmed in part from a series of events at Duke University in which researchers claimed that their genomics-based tests were reliable predictors of which chemotherapy would be most effective for specific cancer patients. Failure by many parties to detect or act on problems with key data and computational methods underlying the tests led to the inappropriate enrollment of patients in clinical trials, premature launch of companies, and retraction of dozens of research papers. Five years after they were first made public, the tests were acknowledged to be invalid.
Lack of clearly defined development and evaluation processes has caused several problems, noted the committee that wrote the report. Omics-based tests involve large data sets and complex algorithms, and investigators do not routinely make their data and computational procedures accessible to others who could independently verify them. The regulatory steps that investigators and research institutions should follow may be ignored or misunderstood. As a result, flaws and missteps can go unchecked.
So (Duke aside) the problem isn't fraud, so much as it is wishful thinking. And that's what statistical analysis is supposed to keep in check, but we're got to make sure that that's really happening. But to keep everyone honest, we also have to keep everything out there where multiple sets of eyes can check things over, and this isn't always happening:
Investigators should be required to make the data, computer codes, and computational procedures used to develop their tests publicly accessible for independent review and ensure that their data and steps are presented comprehensibly, the report says. Agencies and companies that fund omics research should require this disclosure and support the cost of independently managed databases to hold the information. Journals also should require researchers to disclose their data and codes at the time of a paper's submission. The computational procedures of candidate tests should be recorded and "locked down" before the start of analytical validation studies designed to assess their accuracy, the report adds.
This is (and has been for some years) a potentially huge field of medical research, with huge implications. But it hasn't been moving forward as quickly as everyone thought it would. We have to resist the temptation to speed things up by cutting corners, consciously or unconsciously.
Comments (13)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Biological News | Clinical Trials
March 2, 2012
Posted by Derek
I (and many of the readers here) have long thought that stem cells are perhaps the most overhyped medical technology out there - at least for now. I definitely agree that the possibilities for their use are staggering, and I very much hope that some of these pan out, but the gap between those possibilities and the current reality is just as huge. And it's a gap that really shows how hard medical progress is compared to how hard it is in the public imagination.
Nature has an article that bears on this, and on some other important topics. They've found that stem cell treatments are being sold to patients in Texas.
(The investigation) suggests that (Celltex Therapeutics) has supplied adult stem cells to Texas doctors who offer unproven treatments to patients, and that the company is involved in these treatments. One doctor claims that the treatments are part of a clinical study run by Celltex and that the company pays him US$500 a time to inject the cells into patients, who are charged up to $25,000 for a course. The US Food and Drug Administration (FDA) considers it to be a crime to inject unapproved adult stem cells into patients. David Eller, chief executive of Celltex, denies that the company is involved in treatment procedures, but would not comment on Nature's findings about how its cells are used or answer questions about them.
This makes me wonder about what is going on down there in Texas (and I can tell you, as an Arkansan, I'm willing to believe just about anything in that department). This latest business reminds me of the Burzynski cancer treatment stuff, in the way that definitions of "clinical trial" are stretched like rubber bands. Personally, I think that clinical trials are supposed to follow something very much like Yog's Law in publishing ("Money flows towards the writer"). If you're being asked to put up all kinds of money to get your book edited and published, you're very likely being scammed. And if you're being asked to pay thousands of dollars to be in a "clinical trial", well. . .you're being sold something. Real clinical trials reimburse their patients for time and effort, with money and/or medical care. They do not bill them for 25 long ones at the end of the dosing schedule
I should mention here that Slate also had an article up on Celltex, but there have been some problems. They've taken the piece down, citing editorial problems, but (as you'd figure), the cherchez le lawsuit rule applies here. Nature, though, doesn't seem to be getting sued for what they've written.
Now, back to the stem cell treatments. Among other things, Nature mentions a blog by a woman in Texas, who's written about her experiences being treated with adult stem cells from Celltex. It appears that she's receiving these treatments for multiple sclerosis, and was told that "This method has been successful with auto immune diseases such as Parkinson’s, arthritis, Multiple Sclerosis as well as others." She had apparently had a similar procedure done earlier in Mexico, but then:
". . .a friend told Larry about a doctor in Houston who went to South Korea two years ago for a stem cell transplant to treat the debilitating effects of psoriatic arthritis. He is now able to continue his medical practice, perform surgeries, and live without pain. Because our friends had noticed progress from my first stem cell transplant, they wanted us to know that Dr. Jones was now licensed to perform the procedure in Houston. To say the least, we were both excited about the possibilities and timing."
As that extract illustrates, at no point (that I have found) does this patient mention the phrase "clinical trial". One gets the strong impression, actually, that she believes that she is paying to undergo a new medical procedure, the latest thing, rather than participating in any kind of investigational study for a therapy that has not yet been reviewed by the FDA. The Nature writer, David Cyranoski, was able to speak with the physician involved, who says he's treated a number of people with cells from Celltex:
Lotfi says that most of his patients claim to get better after the treatment, but he admits that there is no scientific evidence that the cells are effective. “The scientific mind is not convinced by anecdotal evidence,” he acknowledges. “You need a controlled, double-blind study. But for many treatments, that's not possible. It would take years, and some patients don't have years.”
“The worst-case scenario is that it won't work,” he adds. “But it could be a panacea, from cosmetics to cancer.” He says that Celltex is conducting a trial in which patients “will be their own control”. “If you can compare before and after and show improvement, there's no need for a placebo,” he explains. “How can you charge people, and then give them a placebo?”
Indeed! Maybe you could try not charging them, and not making them spend their own money to find out whether your treatment is any good. Maybe you could get a large, statistically significant number of people together, who've been given thorough diagnostic workups, and give half of them the best standard of care for multiple sclerosis and half of them the stem cell treatment - at your expense - and see if they get better. How about that? (Oh, and just a little note - the worst case is not that nothing happens at all. It might be good for the people involved to think about that a bit).
This gets back to the discussions we've had around here about rethinking clinical trials. One of the things I'll say for the FDA is that they do force people to be rigorous, and to put new medical ideas to well-controlled tests. My worry about the "sell, then test" ideas was summed up in the first link in this paragraph: "I fear that there are any number of entrepreneurial types who would gladly stretch things out, as long as someone else is paying, in the hopes of finally seeing something useful. No one will - or should - pay for extending fishing expeditions." Read that Celltex article and see if that sounds familiar.
Comments (16)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Regulatory Affairs | The Central Nervous System | The Dark Side
February 29, 2012
Posted by Derek
The title of this one says it all: "Association of industry funding with the outcome and quality of randomized controlled trials of drug therapy for rheumatoid arthritis". Any number of critics of the drug business will tell you what that association is: we publish the good stuff and bury the bad news, right?
Well, not so much in arthritis, apparently. The authors identified 103 recent clinical trials in the area, over half of them industry-funded. But when it came to outcomes, things were pretty much the same. Trials from the three largest classes of funding (industry, nonprofit, and "unspecified") all tended to strongly favor the tested drug, although the small number (six) of mixed-funding trials ended up with two favoring and four against. The industry-run trials tended to have more subjects, while the nonprofit ones tended to run longer. The industrial trials also tended to have a more complete description of their intent-to-treat and workflow. As you'd figure, the industrial trials tended to be on newer agents, while the others tended to investigate different combinations or treatment regimens with older ones. But the take-home is this:
No association between funding source and the study outcome was found after adjustment for the type of study drug used, number of study center, study phase, number of study subject, or journal impact factor. . .
. . .Though preponderance of data in medical literature shows that industry funding leads to higher chances of pro-industry results and conclusions, we did not find any association between the funding source and the study outcome of "published" (randomized clinical trials) of RA drug therapies.
The one worrying thing they did find was a trend towards publication bias - the industry-sponsored studies showed up less often in the literature. The authors speculate as to whether these were trials with less favorable outcomes, but didn't have enough data to say one way or another. . .
Comments (5)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | The Dark Side | The Scientific Literature
February 15, 2012
Posted by Derek
Ex-Intel chief Andy Grove's idea to reform clinical trials didn't get much of a reception around here, although (in the end) I was more receptive to the idea than many people were (the comments to the posts here followed similar lines).
So it's quite interesting to see former FDA commissioner Andy Eschenbach making what sounds like a very similar pitch in the Wall Street Journal. It's near the end of an op-ed about reforming the FDA, and it goes like this:
Breakthrough technologies deserve a breakthrough in the wa the FDA evaluates them. Take regenerative medicine. If a company can grow cells that repair the retina in a lab, patients shouldn't have to wait years while the FDA asks the company to complete laborious clinical trials proving efficacy. Instead, after proof of concept and safety testing, the product could be approved for marketing with every eligible patient entered in a registry so the company and the FDA can establish efficacy through post-market studies.
There are several ways to look at that idea. One is to translate it into less editorial language and propose that "Patients (and their insurance companies) should be able to pay to try therapies before they're proven to have worked, as long as that proof is forthcoming". That's not prima facie a crazy idea, but it's subject to the same sorts of objections as Grove's earlier proposal. The post-marketing data will likely be of lower quality than a properly run clinical trial, and it will be harder to use it to establish efficacy. On the other hand, useful therapies would get into the hands of patients faster than happens now, and the expense of drug development would (presumably) go down. But useless therapies would also get into the hands of patients faster than happens now, too, and that's something that we're not currently equipped to deal with.
Any such scheme is going to have to deal with the legal aspect. People don't currently feel as if they're enrolled in a clinical trial when a new drug is offered for sale (although perhaps they should), and it's going to take some doing to make clear that an investigative therapy is just that. Will patients sue, or try to sue, if it doesn't work? If it goes further than that and causes actual harm? I'm thinking of Lilly's gamma-secretase inhibitor that actually seemed to make Alzheimer's worse - how do we handle things like that?
What about the insurers? Will they be happy to have the costs of a Phase III trial offloaded onto them? Not likely. There's also the question of what therapies will get to hop onto this conveyor belt: how much proof-of-concept will be needed? Will that be for the insurers to decide, what investigational drugs they're willing to pay for, so that data can be obtained?
And about that data - it would be of great importance to establish, up front, just what sort of endpoint is being sought. Clear criteria would need to be established (both positive and negative) so that a regulatory decision could be reached in a reasonable time frame. Otherwise, I fear that there are any number of entrepreneurial types who would gladly stretch things out, as long as someone else is paying, in the hopes of finally seeing something useful. No one will - or should - pay for extending fishing expeditions.
Even after all these objections, I can still see some merit in the whole idea. But the question is, after you take all the objections into account (and there are surely more), how much merit is left over? It's not as clear-cut a case as Eschenbach (or Grove) would have a person believe. . .
Some early reactions to Eschenbach's proposal are here and here. There are, I should note, a few other aspects to his op-ed that will be subject of another post.
Update: John LaMattina has similar views.
Comments (30)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials
January 5, 2012
Posted by Derek
I should mention that Science is publishing some letters that it received in response to Andy Grove's proposal to rework the clinical trial system for drug development.
Sidney Wolfe and Michael Carome of Public Citizen aren't too happy with the idea, as you might expect. Their take, as I would reword it, could be summarized as "Hey, the existing system allows the drug industry to spew unsafe crap all over the market, and this would make it even worse". Actually, the language in their letter isn't far off:
A. Grove proposes returning to the era before the enactment of the 1938 Federal Food, Drug, and Cosmetic Act, when new drugs were marketed in the United States without evidence that they were safe or effective. His irrational and dangerous proposal, which would limit the Food and Drug Administration's (FDA) premarket review of new drugs to phase 1 clinical trials, is premised on the fundamental misunderstanding that such trials can provide proof of a drug's safety and on the misguided belief that it is not necessary to establish proof of efficacy. . .
Grove's proposal would subject patients on a massive scale to haphazard, uncontrolled, poorly regulated experimentation involving drugs with unknown safety and effectiveness. Such a flawed proposal does not deserve serious consideration.
Norman Marcus of the Virginia Cartilage Institute is more even-tempered, and his view is closer to my own blog post:
. . .Grove's proposed system needs some fine-tuning.
Grove correctly leaves the safety issues to the FDA, but he does not address dosage issues, which should also be determined before distribution. He does not explore how virtual clinical research organizations of the future would monitor issues of compliance and establish fair methods of measuring response. Replacing the heralded phase 3 trial with a self-administered trial would indeed save money and introduce the product much sooner to at least part of the potential market, but pharmaceutical companies would need some shielding of liability to protect them from the increased risks inherent in this plan. Because patients and third-party payers would undoubtedly see the new drugs as experimental, the pharmaceutical companies should be required to offer them at nominal cost.
That said, experimenting (carefully) is exactly what we should be doing. . .
Finally, David Borhani and J. Adam Butts (of DE Shaw Research) go right to what I've named the Andy Grove Fallacy:
. . .Compared to the semiconductor industry's gains over the past 50 years, the pharmaceutical industry's productivity must seem disappointing. There exists, however, an important distinction between engineering integrated circuits and discovering drugs. The semiconductor industry's realization of Moore's Law has always benefited from a fundamental understanding of solid-state physics. Conversely, we still don't know how living organisms work; new “components,” as well as interactions between well-known components, are discovered daily. . .This ignorance is the real reason why 90% of drug candidates fail in clinical trials: They simply don't work. The trial process is doing just what we ask of it.
None of these are unexpected reactions, and I'm sure that Grove himself has heard them before (and anticipated these). So where does this leave us? Status quo ante, with everyone having stated their positions?
Comments (12)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Regulatory Affairs
December 5, 2011
Posted by Derek
You may remember Rexahn Pharmaceuticals being mentioned here in 2010. They're the company whose lead antidepressant drug Serdaxin showed no significance versus placebo in Phase IIa trials, and whose CEO (Dr. Ahn himself) then calmed the investment community by saying that the trial was never designed to show any statistical significance, anyway, and was therefore a success. You know, because it showed that patients could benefit from the drug, even though it didn't show that patients could benefit from the drug. You may think I'm exaggerating, but go back and read Ahn's statement and see if you still think that.
And when you do, you'll discover that Serdaxin is nothing else than clavulinic acid, the beta-lactamase inhibitor, and not the first thing you'd think of as a CNS agent. But Rexahn has pushed on to Phase IIb with it, and this time they seem to actually have been going all the way, looking for a statistically meaningful effect and everything. That hasn't gone so well, although the press release does what it can:
The randomized, double-blind, placebo-controlled study compared two doses of Serdaxin, 0.5 mg and 5 mg, to placebo over an 8-week treatment period. Results from the study did not demonstrate Serdaxin’s efficacy compared to placebo measured by the Montgomery-Asberg Depression Rating Scale (MADRS). All groups showed an approximate -14 point improvement in the protocol defined primary endpoint of MADRS. All groups had a substantial number of patients who demonstrated a meaningful clinical improvement from baseline. The study showed Serdaxin to be safe and well tolerated.
What really attracts me to this follow-up is another quote from Dr. Ahn: "These results contradict findings from previous studies of Serdaxin in depression, which is disappointing", he stated. Those previous studies, of course, are the ones that didn't reach significance, either, so I'd say that the latest results are right in line. But then, I have a different outlook on life. Serdaxin doesn't look like it'll do much for me, though.
Comments (12)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | The Central Nervous System
November 8, 2011
Posted by Derek
Bad news yesterday from Targacept, a small company that's been developing an antidepressant with AstraZeneca. TC-5214 (the S enantiomer of the nicotinic ligand mecamylamine) missed its endpoints in a trial of 295 patients in Europe who had not responded to standard drug therapy - the trial started with more like 700 patients, who received open-label therapy with one of the usual agents, and then they picked out the tough cases for the real trial, adding this compound to the standard regimens.
Seeing results in such a population is a very tall order, but that's why AZ and others were excited about the earlier Targacept data. The Phase II numbers were extraordinary. A compound that followed through on that promise would be huge. This piece by Adam Feuerstein gets across the excitement - people really couldn't believe what they were seeing.
And maybe they shouldn't have. The grumbling today, though, is taking an interesting turn. What you might not realize from reading about those Phase II results is that they were the result of a clinical trial in India. That's added an extra layer of can-we-trust-this-stuff to the usual despairing comments about Phase II/Phase III disconnects. This is an unusually brutal disconnect, because the earlier data were unusually good. So the muttering is not going to go away any time soon.
AstraZeneca says that they're committed to further studies of TC-5214, so we'll see what happens then. Depression is a tricky illness, and getting solid clinical data isn't easy. It's possible that this latest study just had some confounding variable that messed up the numbers - but then, it's possible that the earlier one did, too, and that, sad to say, is probably the way to bet. This is bad news for AZ, a company that needs all the help it can get, and downright catastrophic news for Targacept, as I'm sure their stock price will reflect. And it might even be bad news for India, and Indian clinical research.
Update: to drive the point home, Adam Feuerstein has posted this under the heading of "My punishment for getting TRGT wrong".
Comments (26)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | The Central Nervous System
November 3, 2011
Posted by Derek
Remember Medivation? That's the small biotech that was trying to develop a Russian compound as an Alzheimer's drug, an effort which blew up completely in early 2010. The company did have one other compound in development, targeting prostate cancer, a ligand for the androgen receptor called MDV3100.
You'll note from that link that it's a rather odd-looking compound, a thiohydantoin, which is a heterocycle that you don't see very often. The discovery of the compound is detailed here, in a collaboration between Michael Jung's group at UCLA and Charles Sawyers' at Sloan-Kettering (here's an interview with him). It's been a long road. The starting point was another known ligand, RU 59063, which comes out of research in France in the early 1990s. The whole left-hand side of MDV3100 (including the thiohydantoin) comes from that scaffold, but it behaves differently on the androgen receptor. Taking advantage of the wild and often intractable complexity of nuclear receptor signaling, it binds in a different mode than other AR ligands, and in a way that the receptor loses its ability to further bind DNA in the nucleus.
Here's the J. Med. Chem. paper (in open-access form) on the development of the series. The compounds were pushed through relatively quickly in cellular assays and in an in vivo model in mice, which allowed MDV3100 and its close analogs to stand out not only for their superior activity on the androgen receptor (which many compounds in the series had), but for their pharmacokinetics. Interestingly, the lead compound for some time seems to have been a spiro-cyclobutyl analog (RD162), but the corresponding gem-dimethyl compound was just as active and a lot easier to make, so that one became the clinical candidate.
Medivation's Phase III trial of the compound came in with data yesterday, and it was startlingly good, so much so that the trial was stopped early and the placebo group switched to the drug. The company's stock is going through the top of the chart in pre-market trading as I write, which shows that the expectations weren't all that high. But MDV3100 certainly seems to have come through, and considering how much failure we live with in drug discovery, it's nice to see something actually outperform. Congratulations to the company, and to Jung and Sawyers as well - they've added another straight-out-of-academia drug to the list, and helped to considerably advance the standard of care in prostate cancer. Good news all around.
Oh, and by the way. . .you have to wonder if this guy stuck around for this result. It all depends on what price he was in at - after today's trading, Medivation's stock might even make it up past where it was back when everyone was hoping that they had an Alzheimer's drug. Expectations!
Comments (12)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cancer | Clinical Trials
November 1, 2011
Posted by Derek
So what happens when you and the FDA disagree on the clinical trials needed to show efficacy for your new drug? Well, this happens: your stock opens down 40%. That's what's going on with Exelixis today - here are the details. Basically, the company had a fast clinical path in mind, taking their prostate cancer candidate cabozantinib into late-stage patients and using pain reduction as an endpoint. But the FDA wasn't (and isn't) buying that as a marker.
I see their point. Survival is really what you're looking for, and there doesn't seem to be enough evidence that pain reduction is going to translate to that. As that Adam Feuerstein piece notes, all the other prostate drugs have had to show survival benefits. EXEL was planning to follow up with a second trial to show that, but hoped to jump-start things by getting approval just on the pain data. It appears that they're going to stick with their strategy and hope that the numbers are so dramatic that the agency will reverse course. But is that realistic - both for the chances of getting great data and the chances of persuading the FDA? The market doesn't think so. Neither do I.
Comments (17)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Business and Markets | Cancer | Clinical Trials
October 11, 2011
Posted by Derek
According to Bruce Booth (@LifeSciVC on Twitter), Ernst & Young have estimated the proportion of drugs in the clinic in the US that are targeting cancer. Anyone want to pause for a moment to make a mental estimate of their own?
Well, I can tell you that I was a bit low. The E&Y number is 44%. The first thought I have is that I'd like to see that in some historical perspective, because I'd guess that it's been climbing for at least ten years now. My second thought is to wonder if that number is too high - no, not whether the estimate is too high. Assuming that the estimate is correct, is that too high a proportion of drug research being spent in oncology, or not?
Several factors led to the rise in the first place - lots of potential targets, ability to charge a lot for anything effective, an overall shorter and more definitive clinical pathway, no need for huge expensive ad campaigns to reach the specialists. Have these caused us to overshoot?
Comments (22)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cancer | Clinical Trials | Drug Development | Drug Industry History
September 28, 2011
Posted by Derek
The last time I talked here at length about Andy Grove, ex-Intel CEO, I was rather hard on him, not that I imagine that I ruined his afternoon much. And in the same vein, I recently gave his name to the fallacy that runs like this: other high-tech R&D sector X is doing better than the pharmaceutical business is. Therefore the drug industry should do what those other businesses do, and things will be better. In Grove's original case, X was naturally "chip designers like Intel", and those two links above will tell you what I think of that analogy. (Hint: not too much).
But Grove has an editorial in Science with a concrete suggestion about how things could be done differently in clinical research. Specifically, he's looking at the ways that large outfits like Amazon manage their customer databases, and wonders about applying that to clinical trial management. Here's the key section:
Drug safety would continue to be ensured by the U.S. Food and Drug Administration. While safety-focused Phase I trials would continue under their jurisdiction, establishing efficacy would no longer be under their purview. Once safety is proven, patients could access the medicine in question through qualified physicians. Patients' responses to a drug would be stored in a database, along with their medical histories. Patient identity would be protected by biometric identifiers, and the database would be open to qualified medical researchers as a “commons.” The response of any patient or group of patients to a drug or treatment would be tracked and compared to those of others in the database who were treated in a different manner or not at all. These comparisons would provide insights into the factors that determine real-life efficacy: how individuals or subgroups respond to the drug. This would liberate drugs from the tyranny of the averages that characterize trial information today.
Now, that is not a crazy idea, but I think it still needs some work. The first issue that comes to mind is heterogeneity of the resulting data. One of the tricky parts of Phase II (and especially Phase III) trials is trying to make sure that all the patients, scattered as they often are across various trial sites, are really being treated and evaluated in exactly the same way. Grove's plan sort of swerves around that issue, in not-a-bug-but-a-feature style. I worry, though, that rather than getting away from his "tyranny of averages", that this might end up swamping things that could be meaningful clinical signals, losing them in a noisy pile of averaged-out errors. The easier the dosing protocols, and the more straighforward the clinical workup, the better it'll go for this method.
That leads right in to the second question: who decides which patients get tested? That's another major issue for any clinical program (and is, in fact, one of the biggest differences between Phase II and Phase III, as you open up the patient population). There are all sorts of errors to make here. On one end of the scale, you can be too restrictive, which will lead the regulatory agencies to wonder if your drug will have any benefit out in the real world (or to just approve you for the same narrow slice you tested in). If you make that error in Phase II, then you'll go on to waste your money in Phase III when your drug has to come out of the climate-controlled clinical greenhouse. But on the other end, you can ruin your chances for statistical significance by going too broad too soon. Monitoring and enforcing such things in a wide-open plan like Grove's proposal could be tough. (But that may not be what he has in mind. From the sound of it, wide-open is the key part of the whole thing, and as long as a complete medical history and record is kept of each patient, then let a thousand flowers bloom).
A few other questions: what, under these conditions, constitutes an endpoint for a trial? That is, when do you say "Great! Enough good data!" and go to the FDA for approval? On the other side, when do you decide that you've seen enough because things aren't working - how would a drug drop out of this process? And how would drugs be made available for the whole process, anyway? Wouldn't this favor the big companies even more, since they'd be able to distribute their clinical candidates to a wider population? (And wouldn't there be even more opportunities for unethical behavior, in trying to crowd out competitor compounds in some manner?)
Even after all those objections, I can still see some merit in this idea. But the details of it, which slide by very quickly in Grove's article, are the real problems. Aren't they always?
Comments (46)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Regulatory Affairs
August 5, 2011
Posted by Derek
I've been meaning to link to Matthew Herper's piece on Bernard Munos and his ideas on what's wrong with the drug business. Readers will recall several long discussions here about Munos and his published thoughts (Parts one, two, three and four). A take-home message:
So how can companies avoid tossing away billions on medicines that won’t work? By picking better targets. Munos says the companies that have done best made very big bets in untrammeled areas of pharmacology. . .Munos also showed that mergers—endemic in the industry—don’t fix productivity and may actually hurt it. . . What correlated most with the number of new drugs approved was the total number of companies in the industry. More companies, more successful drugs.
I should note that the last time I saw Munos, he was emphasizing that these big bets need to be in areas where you can get a solid answer in the clinic in the shortest amount of time possible - otherwise, you're really setting yourself up with too much risk. Alzheimer's, for example, is a disease that he was advising that drug developers basically stay away from: tricky unanswered medical questions, tough drug development problems, followed up by big huge long expensive clinical trials. If you're going to jump into a wild, untamed medical area (as he says you should), then pick one where you don't have to spend years in the clinic. (And yes, this would seem to mean a focus on an awful lot of orphan diseases, the way I look at it).
But, as the article goes on to say, the next thought after all this is: why do your researchers need to be in the same building? Or the same site? Or in the same company? Why not spin out the various areas and programs as much as possible, so that as many new ideas get tried out as can be tried? One way to interpret that is "Outsource everything!" which is where a lot of people jump off the bus. But he's not thinking in terms of "Keep lots of central control and make other people do all your grunt work". His take is more radical:
(Munos) points to the Pentagon’s Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency, the innovation engine of the military, which developed GPS, night vision and biosensors with a staff of only 140 people—and vast imagination. What if drug companies acted that way? What areas of medicine might be revolutionized?
DARPA is a very interesting case, which a lot of people have sought to emulate. From what I know of them, their success has indeed been through funding - lightly funding - an awful lot of ideas, and basically giving them just enough money to try to prove their worth before doling out any more. They have not been afraid of going after a lot of things that might be considered "out there", which is to their credit. But neither have they been charged with making money, much less reporting earnings quarterly. I don't really know what the intersection of DARPA and a publicly traded company might look like (the old Bell Labs?), or if that's possible today. If it isn't, so much the worse for us, most likely.
Comments (114)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Alzheimer's Disease | Business and Markets | Clinical Trials | Drug Development | Drug Industry History | Who Discovers and Why
August 1, 2011
Posted by Derek
If you haven't been reading carefully, you might have had trouble figuring out Teva's oral therapy for multiple sclerosis, laquinimod. After all, earlier this year, the company was blowing the horn for the compound at neurology meetings, touting how safe and effective it was, its advantages over existing therapies, and its potential in the market. You'd hardly know that the compound actually didn't perform as well as many people were hoping. And of course, that very article does mention, near the end, that the company was going to have some more results later in the year. . .
. . .and that day has arrived. Unfortunately. Laquinimod missed its primary endpoint of reducing relapses in MS patients, and unless Teva and its Israeli Swedish partner company (Active Biotech) have some real surprises to unveil, you'd have to presume that the compound is dead. Or if not dead, destined to never make much of an impact in the market, for sure. This program has had a long history, with an earlier version of the structure (roquinimex) running into severe cardiovascular issues ten or twelve years ago.
Teva is a huge player in the generic world, and in recent years has been trying to break into the research end of the drug business. (Their first was Copaxone (glatiramer acetate), also for MS, a compound with a tangled history). Enjoy the experience, guys. If you're used to dealing with compounds whose value has already been proven, this sort of thing must come as even more of a shock than usual.
Comments (19)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | The Central Nervous System
July 8, 2011
Posted by Derek
Here's a good overview from the New York Times of the Duke scandal. Basically, a team there spent several years publishing high-profile papers, and getting high-profile funding, and treating cancer patients based on their own tumor-profiling biomarker work. Which was shoddy, as it turns out, and useless, and wasted everyone's time, money, and (in some cases) the last weeks or months of people's lives. I think that about sums it up. It was Keith Baggerly at M. D. Anderson who really helped catch what was going on, and Retraction Watch has a good link to his presentation on the whole subject.
The lead investigator in this sordid business, Anil Potti, ended up retracting four papers on the work and left Duke last fall (although he's since resurfaced at a cancer treatment center in South Carolina). That's an interesting hiring decision. Looking over the case (and such details of it as Potti lying about having a Rhodes Scholarship), I don't think I'd consider hiring him to mow my yard. Perhaps that statement will be something for his online reputation management outfit to deal with.
But enough about Dr. Potti himself; I hope I never hear about him again. What this case illustrates are several very important problems with the whole field of personalized medicine, and with its public perception. First off, for some years now, everyone has been hearing about the stuff: the coming age of individual cancer treatment, biomarkers, zeroing in on the right drugs for the right patient, and so on. You'd almost get the impression that this age is already here. But it isn't, not yet. It's just barely, barely begun. By one estimate, no major new cancer biomarker has been approved for clinical use in 25 years. Update: changed the language here to reflect differences of opinion!)
Why is that? What's holding things up? We can read off DNA so quickly these days - what's to stop us from just ripping through every cancer sample there is, matching those up with who responded to which treatment regime and which cancer targets are (over)expressed, and there you have it. That's what all these computers are for, right?
Well, that sort of protocol has, in fact, occurred to many researchers. And it's been tried, over and over, without a whole lot of success. Now, there are some good correlations, here and there - but the best ones tend to be in relatively rare tumor types. There's nowhere near as much overlap as we'd like between the cancers that present the most serious public health problems and the ones that we have good biomarker-driven treatment data for. Breast cancer may be one of the fields where things have moved along the most - treatment really is affected by checking for things like Her-2. But it's not enough, nowhere near enough.
So why, then, is that the case? Several reasons - for one, tumor biology is clearly a lot more complex than we'd like it to be. Many common forms of cancer present as a host of mutated cells, each with a host of mutations (see this breast cancer work for an example). And they're genetically unstable, constantly changing. That's why so many cancers relapse after initially successful treatment - you kill off the tumor cells that can be killed off, but that may just give the ones that are left a free field.
Given this state of affairs, and the huge need (and demand) for something that works, the field is primed for just the sort of trouble that occurred at Duke. Someone unscrupulous would have no problem convincing people that a hot new biomarker was worthwhile - any patients that survived would praise it to the skies, while the ones that didn't would not be around to add their perspective. And even without criminal behavior, it's all too easy for researchers to honestly believe that they're on to something, even what that isn't true. The statistical workup needed to go through data sets like these is not trivial; you really have to know what you're doing. Adding to the problem, a number of judgment calls can be made along the way about what to allow, what to emphasize, and what to ignore.
The other problem is that cancer is such an emotional issue. It's very easy for anyone with a drum to beat to join in at full volume. Do you think that the FDA is letting all sorts of toxic junk through? Or do you think that the FDA is killing people by being stupidly cautious? Are drug companies ignoring dying patients, or ruthlessly profiteering off them? Are there too few good ideas for people to work on, or too many? Come to oncology; you can find plenty of support for whatever position you like. They can't all be right, but when did that ever slow anyone down? Besides, that means that there will invariably be Wrong-Thinking Evil People on the other side of any topic, and that's always stimulating, too.
It is, in fact, a mess. Nor are we out of it. But our only hope to is to keep hacking away. Wish us luck!
Comments (22)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cancer | Clinical Trials | Regulatory Affairs | The Dark Side
June 30, 2011
Posted by Derek
Well, here's one from the Archives of Internal Medicine that most certainly did get published. It's an analysis of an old clinical trial, STEPS, which was conducted for Neurontin (gabapentin) during the 1990s.
But that's not quite right. The authors find, by analyzing a large trove of documents released during lawsuit discovery proceedings, that STEPS was not really intended to be a clinical trial. Instead, it was a marketing program:
Documents demonstrated that STEPS was a seeding trial posing as a legitimate scientific study. Documents consistently described the trial itself, not trial results, to be a marketing tactic in the company's marketing plans. Documents demonstrated that at least 2 external sources questioned the validity of the study before execution, and that data quality during the study was often compromised. Furthermore, documents described company analyses examining the impact of participating as a STEPS investigator on rates and dosages of gabapentin prescribing, finding a positive association. None of these findings were reported in 2 published articles.
Here's more at Medscape. STEPS was allegedly a Phase IV post-approval trial, but it was unblinded and pretty much uncontrolled. Instead of taking place at a small number of centers, it seems to have been set up to enroll as many physicians as possible (they ended up with 772!), with each of them bringing in a handful of patients.
This is an extremely foul technique, which brings the companies who use it, the entire drug industry, and the whole idea of clinical research into disrepute. For money. I feel like spitting on the floor.
Comments (14)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | The Dark Side
June 27, 2011
Posted by Derek
Adam Feuerstein calls this not just "post hoc data mining", but "extreme post hoc data mining". Take a look and see what you think.
Update: more here.
Comments (10)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials
May 27, 2011
Posted by Derek
Let's add to the uncertainty about whether we understand cardiovascular disease, OK? The NIH has been conducting a large statin-plus-niacin trial, which is definitely a combination worth looking at. The statin will lower your LDL, and niacin will raise your HDL and lower your triglycerides (albeit with some irritating side effects). An earlier trial of niacin versus Zetia (ezetimibe) made the former look pretty good (and Zetia look pretty bad) using an endpoint of arterial examination by ultrasound.
But now the NIH trial has been stopped, a full 18 months early. Not only did the addition of niacin show no benefit at all, but that treatment group actually had a slightly higher rate of ischemic stroke. This despite the combination working as planned, from a blood-marker standpoint. No, we really still have a lot to learn, particularly when we're trying to raise HDL and lower triglycerides. These results, together with the fenofibrate data, really make a person wonder.
Comments (21)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials
Posted by Derek
When we last spoke about the Avastin-and-breast-cancer story here, the FDA had rescinded its provisional approval for that indication, and a number of people were shouting that here it was, health care rationing based on price, right in front of us. As I said at the time, I think that those worries were misplaced: the reason Avastin was approved for metastatic breast cancer was that it seemed to work (a little). But when the numbers were firmed up with more studies, it turned out that it didn't. The whole point of a provisional approval is that it can be rolled back if things don't work out they way that they looked at first.
Now Genentech is coming back to the FDA next month asking for approval again. Here's an op-ed in the New York Times that I think does a good job of laying out the case against the whole idea:
Genentech presented progression-free survival as a surrogate for better quality of life, but the quality-of-life data were incomplete, sketchy and, in some cases, non-existent. The best that one Genentech spokesman could say was that “health-related quality of life was not worsened when Avastin was added.” Patients didn’t live longer, and they didn’t live better.
It was this lack of demonstrated clinical benefit, combined with the potentially severe side effects of the drug, that led the F.D.A. last year to reject the use of Avastin with Taxol or with the other chemotherapies for breast cancer.
In its appeal Genentech is changing its interpretation of its own data to pursue the case. Last year Genentech argued that the decrease in progression-free survival in its supplementary studies was not due to the pairing of Avastin with drugs other than Taxol. This year, however, in its brief supporting the appeal, Genentech argues that the degree of benefit may indeed vary with “the particular chemotherapy used with Avastin.” In other words, different chemotherapies suddenly do yield different results, with Taxol being superior. The same data now generate the opposite conclusion.
Another problem, as the piece says, is that the whole cancer drug approval process has a tendency to slip into ancedotal form: tearful patients testify that the drug saved their lives. But the plural of anecdote is still not data, and never will be. In oncology, there's really not much way of being sure about any individual patient's response. There are so many different types of cancer, and they occur in so many different kinds of people. The only way to say anything useful is in a well-designed clinical trial setting.
Now, that doesn't mean that you just have to round up thousands of people with all kinds of cancer and let things rip. It's perfectly acceptable - in fact, very useful - to screen the patients that go into the trials so that you're sure that they, as far as can be told, all have the same sort of disease. But you have to do that up front to really trust the conclusions. Data-mining, running things in reverse, is tricky, and if you're going to do it, it should be used to tell you how to run your next trial, not to argue for approval. Only when you've run these kinds of experiments can you say with any certainly that a cancer therapy is useful.
But that's a hard sell, compared to someone who is convinced that they're alive because of cancer drug X (or is convinced that a loved one would be alive, if they'd only been able to get it). If you're trying to persuade a crowd (or a mob), that would be the way to go: Aristotle's appeal to pathos. But keep in mind that Aristotle (and the rest of the Greeks) looked down on that technique, and they were right. Logos, used properly, is what we're after here, mixed in with the ethos of a disinterested observer who's trying to find the truth.
And this gets to the moral dilemma at the heart of the modern drug industry: are we trying to find drugs that work? Or are we trying to sell drugs, whether they work or not? Roche/Genentech has every right to make its case and to petition the FDA for whatever decision they want. But they (and every other drug company out there) owe the rest of us, and the rest of the world, something while they're doing it: to present all the solid data they have, and to let the numbers speak for themselves. But if the numbers can't persuade, then a company should go back and get some more before trying again.
Comments (23)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cancer | Clinical Trials | Why Everyone Loves Us
May 18, 2011
Posted by Derek
Abbott has some difficult times ahead with their fenofibrate franchise. That's TriCor, and its newer formulation, TriLipix. Fenofibrate, as I've mentioned here before, is an oddity among drugs. It was discovered way before anyone had a mechanism of action, and even now, while it's supposed to be a PPAR-alpha ligand, no one's completely happy with that explanation. (For one thing, it's not very potent at that nuclear receptor, while other PPAR-alpha compounds have crashed in clinical trials for various reasons). But it can lower triglycerides and raise HDL, which should both (in theory) be beneficial effects, and it's been a big seller over the years.
But how much good does it do? That's always the big, important, slow question in the cardiovascular field. The data for fenofibrate have always been somewhat messy (although probably positive overall), but a new study has muddied things up. As the FDA puts it, in the documents for an advisory committee meeting tomorrow (PDF):
Over the last 40 years laboratory and clinical data have suggested the potential of fibrates to reduce cardiovascular risk. However, data from large clinical outcomes trials have produced mixed results. The inconsistent outcomes may be a result of differences in pharmacodynamic properties among individual fibrates or study populations or both.
The new data, from a trial called ACCORD-Lipid, is another one looking at fenofibrate plus a statin, which is the usual combination (that way, at least in theory, you go after triglycerides, low HDL, and high LDL simultaneously). But this trial, in a large population of diabetic patients, showed that overall, the rate of major adverse cardiovascular events (MACE) was statistically identical between the statin/fenofibrate and statin/placebo groups. No advantage! It gets trickier with a bit of subgroup analysis: women showed some evidence of worse outcomes with fenofibrate as opposed to statin alone. The group that seemed to benefit, on the other hand, were the patients who started out with the highest triglycerides and the lowest HDL. (See that FDA file above for all the numbers and more).
That's disconcerting. Is fenofibrate only helping the worst-off patients, and doing nothing (or worse) for the others? That a question worth wrestling with for a drug that sold well over a billion dollars last year. And beyond that is the same sort of question that came up when all the ezetimibe data hit: how much do we really know about blood markers versus real cardiovascular outcomes? Can you hit the various numbers by different routes, some of which are beneficial and some of which aren't? What is it that we're not understanding?
Comments (3)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials | Regulatory Affairs
May 10, 2011
Posted by Derek
We know what clinical trial success rates have been like for the last twenty years or so (hint: not so good). Are things turning around, or not? This Nature Reviews Drug Discovery piece takes a look at the 2008-2010 data. It's not necessarily reassuring:
At present, however, Phase II success rates are lower than at any other phase of development. Analysis by the Centre for Medicines Research (CMR) of projects from a group of 16 companies (representing approximately 60% of global R&D spending) in the CMR International Global R&D database reveals that the Phase II success rates for new development projects have fallen from 28% (2006–2007) to 18% (2008–2009), although these success rates do vary between therapeutic areas and between small molecules and biologics.
There were 108 Phase II failures in 2008-2010, and for 87 of those we have a stated reason. Half of those were good old lack of efficacy, another 19% failed on safety grounds, and the rest failed for "strategic reasons". The best guess there is that the compounds seem to have been targeting areas where there was already competition, and they didn't differentiate themselves enough from the standard of care to be worth continuing. That's worth thinking about in the context of the arguments about "me-too" drugs. To hear some of the industry's critics tell it, there shouldn't be any such failures at all, since they seem to believe that even most marketed drugs really don't differentiate themselves from their competition as it is.
Nearly 70% of those 108 failures, by the way, were in four therapeutic areas: cardiovascular, CNS, metabolics, and oncology. (What we don't have are the failures adjusted for how many drugs were taken into the clinic in the first place in those areas). CNS and oncology are traditional high-risk areas, of course, and I think that a lot of the metabolics failures were in diabetes. That's a tough field - big market, but pretty well-served, making efficacy versus the standard of care a high bar to clear, and this while the FDA's safety requirements have gotten very stiff indeed.
But cardiovascular - that's interesting, since that area has traditionally had one of the better trial success rates. Perhaps that one is also suffering from the standard of care being pretty good (and often generic, or soon to be). So the high-success-rate mechanisms of the old days are well covered, leaving you to try your luck in the riskier ideas, while still trying to beat some pretty good (and pretty cheap) drugs. . .
Update: it's been suggested that some of these "strategic" failures are a sign of what happens during merger/acquisition activity. Could be, but you'd have to run these down company-by-company. I'll see if I can contact the authors of this paper about that idea. . .
Comments (38)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials
May 3, 2011
Posted by Derek
So the results are in from that Lucentis-vs-Avastin comparison (known as CATT, Comparison of AMD Treatment Trials), and I'd say that they came out the way people were expecting: monthly injections of either antibody give the same end results, as measured by vision testing. There are some slight differences between the two when retinal thickness is measured, but that hasn't shown up in the end result (visual impairment). There's another year of follow-up ongoing, and perhaps that will show something (or perhaps not). For now, the outcome appears to be the same.
Another interesting feature of this study is that it compared regular monthly treatment with either drug to an "as-needed" dosing schedule. In this case Lucentis performed equally well by either schedule, with monthly Avastin equivalent, but (interestingly) as-needed Avastin dosing was, in fact, inferior. These protocols need fewer injections (and less Lucentis), but more imaging of the retina, along with more judgment calls on the part of physicians, so the cost savings there will remain to be seen. Savings on injections into the eyes, though, would surely be welcome - it's too bad that Avastin didn't perform as well that way.
As the editorial in the NEJM summed it up:
Health care providers and payers worldwide will now have to justify the cost of using ranibizumab. Regulators in certain countries will be forced to reconsider their policies that make it illegal to use drugs off-label, particularly when so many of their citizens cannot afford ranibizumab. The CATT data support the continued global use of intravitreal bevacizumab as an effective, low-cost alternative to ranibizumab.
The only thing that could flip this around is if the second year of CATT produces some new data, or if the ongoing European trials turn up some safety data that this study wasn't powered to pick up.
More here at the In Vivo Blog. BioCentury also did a good write-up on this one for their subscribers - they interviewed a number of opthamology practitioners, and the voting looks solidly in favor of using the much less expensive Avastin. One South Carolina practice reported that, because of the state's sales tax on physician-administered drugs, that they pay $140 in tax for every injection of Lucentis, while getting reimbursed $120 by Medicare for doing it, which doesn't sound like much of a way to make a living. Still, as the newsletter points out, off-label Avastin use (which would be legal) involves repackaging what was a single-dose container, and that part is technically in violation of the law. Buthe agency doesn't want to get in the way of freedom of medical practice, and seems to be letting that trump the repackaging/compounding concerns.
Comments (5)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Drug Prices
April 4, 2011
Posted by Derek
The Lucentis/Avastin story is going to get more complicated as the year goes on. Next month the results of a head-to-head study of the two drugs (one far less costly than the other) in cases of macular degeneration will be revealed, and it's widely thought that they'll come up as basically equivalent in efficacy.
But as this Wall Street Journal article makes clear, they may not be equal in safely. The same meeting that will see the trial results presented will also feature an analysis of Medicare claims for both drugs, which looks like it'll show that Lucentis has a better safety profile. This is exactly what Roche/Genentech would like to hear, naturally. We'll have to wait until May to see which message wins out. . .
Comments (13)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Drug Prices
March 24, 2011
Posted by Derek
I wanted to do some follow-up on the Makena story - the longtime progesterone ester drug that has now been newly FDA-approved and newly made two order of magnitude more expensive. (That earlier post has the details, for those who might not have been following).
Steve Usdin at BioCentury has, in the newsletter's March 21st issue, gone into some more detail about the whole process where KV Pharmaceuticals stepped in under the Orphan Drug Act to pick up exclusive marketing rights to the drug. The company, he says, "arguably has played a marginal role" in getting the drug back onto the market.
Here's the timeline, from that article and some digging around of my own: in 1956, Squibb got FDA approval for the exact compound (progesterone caproate) for the exact indication (preventing preterm labor), under the brand name Delalutin. But at that time, the FDA didn't require proof of efficacy, just safety. There were several small, inconclusive academic studies during the 1960s. In 1971, the FDA noted that the drug was effective for abnormal uterine bleeding and other indications, and was "probably effective" for preventing preterm delivery. In 1973, though, based on further data from the company, the agency went back on that statement, and said that there was now evidence of birth defects from the use of Delalutin in pregnant women, and removed any of these as approved uses. In the late 1970s, warning language was further added. In 1989, the agency said that its earlier concerns (heart and limb defects) were unfounded, but warned of others. By 1999, the FDA had concluded that progesterone drugs were too varied in their effects to be covered under a single set of warnings, and took the warning labels off.
In 1998, the National Institute of Child Health and Human Development launched a larger, controlled study, but this was an example of bad coordination all the way. By this time, Bristol-Myers Squibb had requested that Delalutin's NDAs be revoked, saying that they hadn't even sold the compound for several years. This seems to have also been a move, though, in response to FDA complaints about earlier violations of manufacturing guidelines and a request to recall the outstanding stocks of the drug. So the NICHD study was terminated after a year, with no results, and the drug's NDA was revoked as of September, 2000.
The NICHD had started another study by then, however, although I'm not sure how they solved their supply problems. This is the one that reported data in 2003, and showed a real statistical benefit for preterm labor. More physicians began to prescribe the drug, and in 2008, the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists recommended its use.
So much for the medical efficacy side of the story. Now we get back to the regulatory and marketing end of things. In March of 2006, a company called CUSTOpharm asked the FDA to determine if the drug had been withdrawn for reasons of safety or efficacy - basically, was it something that could be resubmitted as an ANDA? The agency determined that the compound was so eligible.
Meanwhile, another company called Adeza Biomedical was moving in the same direction (as far as I can tell, they and CUSTOpharm had nothing to do with each other, but I don't have all the details). Adeza submitted an NDA in July 2006, under the FDA's provision for using data that that applicant had not generated - in fact, they used the NICHD study results. They called the compound Gestiva, and asked for accelerated approval, since preterm delivery was accepted as a surrogate for infant mortality. An advisory committee recommended this in August of 2006, by a 12 to 9 vote. (Scroll down to the bottom of this page for the details).
The agency sent Adeza an "approvable" letter in October 2006 which asked for more animal studies. The next year, Adeza was bought by Cytec, who were bought by Hologic, who sold the Gestiva rights to KV Pharmaceuticals in January 2008. So that's how KV enters the story: they bought the drug program from someone who bought it from someone who just used a government agency's clinical data.
The NDA was approved by the FDA in February 2011, along with a name change to Makena. By this time, KV and Hologic had modified their agreement - KV had already paid up nearly $80 million, with another $12.5 million due with the approval, and has further payments to make to Hologic which would take the total purchase price up to nearly $200 million. That's been their main expense for the drug, by far. The FDA has asked them to continue two ongoing studies of Makena - one placebo-controlled trial to look at neonatal mortality and morbidity, and one observational study to see if there are any later developmental effects. Those studies will report in late 2016, and KV has said that their costs will be in the "tens of millions". So they paid more for the rights to Makena than it's costing them to get it studied in the clinic.
That only makes sense if they can charge a lot more than the generic price for the drug had been, of course, and that's what takes us up to today, with the uproar over the company's proposed price tag of $1500 per treatment. But the St. Louis Post-Dispatch (thanks to FiercePharma for the link) says that the company has now filed its latest 10-Q with the SEC, and is notifying investors that its pricing plans are in doubt:
The success of the Company’s commercialization of Makena™ is dependent upon a number of factors, including: (i) the Company’s ability to maintain certain net pricing levels for Makena™; (ii) successfully obtaining agreements for coverage and reimbursement rates on behalf of patients and medical practitioners prescribing Makena™ with third-party payors, including government authorities, private health insurers and other organizations, such as HMOs, insurance companies, and Medicaid programs and administrators, and (iii) the extent to which pharmaceutical compounders continue to produce non-FDA approved purported substitute product. The Company has been criticized regarding the list pricing of Makena™ in a number of news articles and internet postings. In addition, the Company has received, and expects to continue to receive, letters criticizing the Company’s list pricing of Makena™ from several medical practitioners and several advocacy groups, including the March of Dimes, American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists, American Academy of Pediatrics and the Society for Maternal Fetal Medicine. Further, the Company has received one letter from a United States Senator and expect to receive another letter from a number of members of the United States Congress asking the Company to reduce its indicated pricing of Makena™, and the same Senator, together with a second Senator, has sent a letter to the Federal Trade Commission asking the agency to initiate an investigation of our pricing of Makena™.
The Company is responding to these criticisms and events in a number of respects. . .The success of the Company is largely dependent upon these efforts and appropriately responding to both the media and governmental concerns regarding the pricing of Makena™.
Personally, I'm torn a bit by the whole situation. I think that people and companies have the right to charge what the market will bear for their goods and services. But at the same time, I find myself also very irritated by KV in this case, because I truly think that they are taking advantage of the regulatory framework. As I said in the last post, it's not like they took on much risk here - they didn't discover this drug, didn't do the key clinical work on it, and don't even manufacture it themselves. Their business plan involves sitting back and collecting the rent, but that's what the law allows them to do.
In the end, if political pressure forces them to back down on their pricing, this will come down to a poor business decision. Companies should, in fact, charge what the market will bear - but KV may have neglected some other factors when they calculated what that price should be. Before setting a price, you should ask "Will the insurance companies pay?" and "Will Medicare pay?" and "Will people pay out of their own pocket?", but you should also ask "Will this price bring down so much controversy that we won't be able to make it stick?"
Comments (17)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Drug Development | Drug Prices | Regulatory Affairs | Why Everyone Loves Us
March 11, 2011
Posted by Derek
The situation with KV Pharmaceuticals and the premature birth therapy Makena has been all over the news in the last couple of days. Briefly, Makena is an injectable progesterone formulation, given to women at risk of delivering prematurely. It went off the market in the early 1990s, because of side effect concerns and worries about overall efficacy, but since 2003 it's made an off-label comeback, thanks largely to a study at Wake Forest. This seemed to tip the risk/benefit ratio over to the favorable side.
Comes now the FDA and the provisions for orphan drugs. There is an official program offering market exclusivity to companies that are willing to take up such non-approved therapies and give them the full clinical and regulatory treatment. The idea, which is well-intentioned, as so many ideas are, was to bring these things in from the cold and give them more medical, scientific, and legal standing as things that had been through the whole review process. And that's what KV did. But this system says nothing about what the price of the drug will be during the years of exclusivity, in the same way that the approval process for new drugs says nothing about what their price will be when they come to market.
KV has decided that the price will now be about $1500 per patient, as opposed to about $15 before under the off-label regime. The reaction has been exactly what one would expect, and why not? Here, then are some thoughts:
Unfortunately, this should not have come as a surprise. It seems to have, though. The news stories are full of quotes from patients, doctors, and insurance companies saying that they never saw this coming. Look, though, at what happened recently with colchicine. Same situation. Same price jump. Same outrage, understandably. As long as these same incentives exist, any no-name generic company that comes along to adopt an old therapy and bring it into the modern regulatory regime can be assumed to be planning to run the price up to what they think the market will bear. That's why they're going to the trouble.
KV seems to have guessed correctly about the price. You wouldn't think so, with a hundred-fold increase. And the news stories, as I say, are full of (understandably) angry quotes from people at the insurance companies who will now be asked to pay. But (as that NPR link in the first paragraph says), Aetna, outraged or not, is going to pony up. It's going to cost them $20 to $30 million per year, most of which is going to go directly to KV's bottom line, but they're going to pay. And the other big health insurance providers seem to be doing the same. Meanwhile, the company has announced a program to provide low-cost treatment to people without insurance. From what I can see, it looks like basically everyone who had access to the drug before will have it now, the main difference being that the payers with deeper pockets will now be getting hammered on by KV. This is not a nice way to run a business, and it's not something I would sleep well on after having done myself. But there it is.
How much is regulatory approval worth, anyway? That seems to be what we're really arguing about. After all, patients are getting the same drug, in the same formulation, dosed the same way as before. But now it's **FDA Approved**. For new substances, I think regulatory approval is worth quite a bit. There are all kinds of things that can go wrong. But how about drugs that have been dosed in humans for years? And already run through the equivalent of Phase II trials by other people? The main thing that's being added is some confirmation that yes, the dose that everyone's been using is about right, and yes, the effects that are being seen are, in fact, real. And that's not worthless, not at all - but how much is it worth, really? The agency itself seems to place a pretty high value on it - seven years of market exclusivity, to be exact, and we can see by example just what that goes for on the market.
This does the drug industry no good, either. We have a bad enough reputation as it is, wouldn't you think? What's irritating, to someone like me who works at a "find a new drug" type of company, is that these no-name generic outfits (KV in this case, URL Pharma for colchicine) are doing pretty much what critics of the industry think that we all do, all the time. That is, walk up to situations where other people have done a lot of the work, a good amount of it with public/NIH money, and step right in and profit. Now it's true that these companies have to basically run Phase II/Phase III trials to take the data to the FDA, and that's a significant amount of money. But their risks in doing so have been watered down immensely by the history of these drugs in the medical community. When a research company closes its eyes, holds its breath, and jumps into the clinic with a new molecule, that's one thing. And that's where those 90% failure rates come from. But the failure rate of drugs that have been used for years in human patients already, and already studied under clinical conditions, is not anything like 90%. Is it zero per cent? Has anyone failed yet, taking one of these old medications back to the FDA? Even once?
The company picked its target carefully. I will say this, that KV's trials have presumably clarified the question of whether progesterone therapy actually does help. You'd think that the 2003 study would have answered that, and as it turned out, it had. A review of the field in 2006 concluded that it was a worthwhile therapy, from a cost/benefit standpoint, as did another review in 2007. (Mind you, that wasn't at any $1500 a throw, was it?) But a Cochrane review from last year concluded that there still wasn't enough evidence to recommend the whole idea. And progesterone therapy doesn't seem to help with twin or tripletpregnancies or with some other gestational problems. No, the 2003 study seemed fairly strong, and has the greatest relevance to public health, so that's what the company went for. From one viewing angle, the system worked.
My take, though, is that as long as the regulatory environment is set to value FDA's stamp of approval for old drugs this highly, that people will continue to take advantage of it. You subsidize something; you're going to get it. Personally, I don't think that the balance is right, but I'm open to suggestion about what to do about it. A shorter period of market exclusivity would just mean, I think, that the prices go up even higher once a drug gets re-approved. Just throwing up our hands and letting all that old stuff stand is a possibility, but there may well still be some of these things that aren't as effective as we think, or aren't being dosed right, and we have to decide what the cost is of letting those situations stand.
Update: see also Alex Tabarrok's thoughts on the effects of the Orphan Drug Act in general.
Comments (57)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Drug Development | Drug Prices | Regulatory Affairs | Why Everyone Loves Us
March 10, 2011
Posted by Derek
Bruce Booth over at Atlas Venture (a VC fund here in Cambridge) has been following the Light and Warburton drug-cost estimate with interest. And now he's got a form up on his site for people to enter their own estimates of the costs. Take a look - it's bound to come up with a number that's more in tune with reality! For one thing, he's actually asking people who have, you know, developed drugs. . .
Comments (29)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Drug Development | Drug Prices
March 8, 2011
Posted by Derek
One of the readers in the comments section to the last post noticed Rebecca Warburton trying to clarify that absurd $43-million-per-drug R&D figure. You'll find her response in the comments section to the Slate piece that brought this whole study so much attention. Says Warburton:
. . .Our estimate of $59 million is the median development (the “D” in R&D) cost per average drug, not just NMEs (new chemicals) and does not include basic research costs, for which there is no reasonable estimate available.
But that explanation won't wash, as some of the readers over at Slate noticed as well. If you read the Light and Warburton article itself, you find the authors talking about nothing but "R&D" all the way through. In the one section where they do start to make a distinction, they brush aside expenses for basic research, on the grounds that drug companies hardly do any:
Companies under pressure from quarterly reports have difficulty justifying long searches for breakthrough drugs to investors. . .Little company R&D is devoted to basic research. Although industry association reports, based on unverified numbers from its members, claim that companies invest on average 17–19 per cent of sales in R&D, the most authoritative data come from the long-standing survey by the US National Science Foundation (2003). Its data document that pharmaceutical firms invest 12.4 per cent of gross domestic sales on R&D. Of this, 18 per cent, or 2.4 per cent of sales, went to basic research. More detailed reports from the industry indicate the percentage of R&D going to basic research is even smaller, about 9.3 per cent (or 1.2 per cent of sales) (Light, 2006). Thus the net corporate investment in research to discover important new drugs is about 1.2 per cent of sales, not 17–19 per cent.
So no, claiming that the $43 million figure is only supposed to represent the "D" part of R&D is disingenuous. There's another line from this paper, quoting Marcia Angell, that I think gets to one of the roots of the problem with the way these authors have characterized drug research. Angell is quoted here with approval - everything she and Merril Goozner have to say is quoted with approval:
It is also unclear how far back one should go to count up the costs of discovery, given that often there are several strands of research that are pieced together. In Angell’s view, the critical step in ‘discovering’ a new drug is understanding how the disease works and finding one or two good targets of vulnerability in the defences of a disease for intervention. Basic research ‘is almost always carried out at universities or government research labs, either in this country or abroad’ (Angell, 2004, p. 23).
And there you have it. The critical step is understanding how the disease works, you see, and finding one or two good targets. By that definition, the vast amount of money that gets spent in the drug industry is then non-critical. This is a viewpoint that can only be held by someone who has never tried to discover a drug, or never held a serious conversation with anyone who has.
Let's poke a few holes in that worldview. First off, if we waited to "understand" diseases before trying to develop drugs for them, we'd hardly have a damned thing on the drugstore shelves. Look at Alzheimer's - the medical community is still having fist-waving arguments about its cause, while drug companies continue to sink piles of money into trying to treat it. (Almost all of which has gone down the tubes, I might add, and I helped flush some of it through myself, earlier in my career).
Then you have to find one or two good targets. Peachy! Where do you find those thingies, anyway? And how do you know that they're good targets? I wish that Marcia Angell, Donald Light, or Rebecca Warburton would let the rest of us in on those secrets. As it is, we have to take chances on some pretty tenuous stuff, and often the only way to find out if a target really has any connection to human health is to. . .well, to discover a drug candidate that hits it. And develop it, and get it through tox, and into humans, and through Phase I, and into Phase II, and more likely than not these days, into Phase III before you really find out if, you know, it was actually a good target. We pass on those results to the rest of the world at that point. But that doesn't count as research, apparently.
And how about the drugs that have been developed without good mechanisms or targets at all? Metformin, ezetimibe, rosiglitazone and pioglitazone: none of these had any detailed mechanisms worked out for them while the money was being spent to develop them. These are the sorts of things we do around here in between having meetings to decide what color the package should be, and right after we do that thing where we all jump around in rooms knee-deep in hundred-dollar bills. Exhausting stuff, that money-wading.
But what I'd really like to ask Light and Warburton about is this: if you do think that the Tufts/diMasi estimate is crap, why did you feel as if the antidote was more crap from the opposite direction? Honestly, I'd think that intelligent people of good will might be more interested in decreasing the total amount of crap out there instead. . .
Comments (16)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Drug Development | Drug Prices | Why Everyone Loves Us
March 7, 2011
Posted by Derek
Note: a follow-up post to this one can be found here.
I've had a deluge of emails asking me about this article from Slate on the costs of drug research. It's based on this recent publication from Donald Light and Rebecca Warburton in the London School of Economics journal Biosocieties, and it's well worth discussing.
But let's get a few things out of the way first. The paper is a case for the prosecution, not a dispassionate analysis. The authors have a great deal of contempt for the pharmaceutical industry, and are unwilling (or unable) to keep it from seeping into their prose. I'm tempted to reply in kind, but I'm supposed to be the scientist in this discussion. We'll see how well I manage.
Another thing to mention immediately is that this paper is, in fact, not at all worthless. In between the editorializing, they make some serious points, and most of these are about the 2003 Tufts (diMasi) estimate of drug development costs. This is the widely-cited $802 million figure, and the fact that it's widely cited is what seems to infuriate the authors of this paper the most.
Here are their problems with it: the Tufts study surveyed 24 large drug companies, of which 10 agreed to participate. (In other words, this is neither a random nor a comprehensive sample). The drugs used for the study numbers were supposed to be "self-originated", but since we don't know which drugs they were, it's impossible to check this. And since the companies reported their own numbers, these would be difficult to check, even if they were made available drug-by-drug (which they aren't). Nor can anyone be sure that variations in how companies assign costs to R&D haven't skewed the data as well. We may well be looking at the most expensive drugs of the whole sample; it's impossible to say.
All of these are legitimate objections - the Tufts numbers are just not transparent. Companies are not willing to completely spread their books out for outside observers, in any industry, so any of these estimates are going to be fuzzy. Light and Warburton go on to some accounting issues, specifically the cost-of-capital estimate that took their estimated cost for a new drug from 400 million to 800 million. That topic has been debated around this blog before, and it's important to break that argument into two parts.
The first one is whether it's appropriate to consider opportunity costs at all. I still say that it is, and I don't have much patience for the "argument from unfamiliarity". If you commit to some multi-year use of your money, you really are forgoing what you could have earned with it otherwise. You're giving it up - it's a cost, whether you're used to thinking of it that way or not. But the second part of the argument is, just how much could you have earned? The problem here is that the Tufts study assumes 11% returns, which is just not anywhere near realistic. Mind you, it's on the same order of fantasy as the returns that have been assumed in the past inside many pension plans, but we're going to be dealing with that problem for years to come, too. No, the Tufts opportunity cost numbers are just too high.
Then there's the tax situation. I am, I'm very happy to say, no expert on R&D tax accounting. But it's enough to say that there's arguing room about the effects of the various special tax provisions for expenditures in this area. And it's complicated greatly by different treatment in different part of the US and the world. The Tufts study does not reduce the gross costs of R&D by tax savings, while Light and Warburton argue otherwise. Among other points, they argue that the industry is trying to have it both ways - that cost-of-capital arguments make R&D expenditures look like a long-term investment, while for tax purposes, many of these are deductible each year as more of an ordinary business expense.
Fine, then - I'm in agreement, on general principles, with Light and Warburton when they say that the Tufts study estimates are hard to check and likely too high. But here's where we part company. Not content to make this point, the authors turn around and attempt to replace one shaky number with another. The latter part of their paper, to me, is one one attempt after another to push their own estimate of drug R&D costs into a world of fantasy. Their claim is that the median R&D cost for a new drug is about $43 million. This figure is wrong.
For example, they have total clinical trial and regulatory review time dropping (taken from this reference - note that Light and diMasi, lead author of the Tufts study, are already fighting it out in the letter section). But if that's true why isn't the total time from discovery to approval going down? I've been unable to find any evidence that it is, and my own experience certainly doesn't make me think that the process is going any faster.
The authors also claim that corporate R&D risks are much lower than reported. Here they indulge in some rhetoric that makes me wonder if they understand the process at all:
Reports by industry routinely claim that companies must test 5000-10000 compounds to discover one drug that eventually comes to market. Marcia Angell (2004) points out that these figures are mythic: they could say 20,000 and it would not matter much, because the initial high-speed computer screenings consume a small per cent of R&D costs. . .
The truth is, even a screen of 20,000 compounds is tiny. And those are real, physical, compounds, not "computer screenings". It's true, though, that high-throughput screening is a small part of R&D costs. But the authors are mixing up screening and the synthesis of new compounds. We don't find our drug candidates in the screening deck - at least, not in any project I've worked on since 1989. We find leads there, and then people like me make all kinds of new structures - in flasks, dang it, not on computers - and we test those. Here, read this.
The authors go on to say:
Many products that 'fail' would be more accurately described as 'withdrawn', usually because trial results are mixed; or because a company estimates that the drug will not meet their high sales threshold for sufficient profitability. The difference between 'failure' and 'withdrawal' is important, because many observers suspect that companies withdraw or abandon therapeutically important drugs for commercial reasons. . .
Bring out some of those observers, then! And bring on the list of therapeutically important drugs that have been dropped out of the clinic just for commercial reasons. Please, give us some examples to work with here, and tell me how the disappointing data that the companies reported at the time (missed endpoints, tox problems) were fudged. Now, I have seen a compound fall out of actual production because of commercial reasons (Pfizer's Exubera), but that was partly because it didn't turn out to be as therapeutically important as the company convinced itself that it would be.
And here's another part I especially like:
Company financial risk is not only much lower than usually conveyed by the '1 in 5000' rhetoric, but companies spread their risks over a number of projects. The larger companies are, and the more they merge with or buy up other companies, the less risk they bear for any one R&D project. The corporate risk of R&D for companies like Pfizer or GlaxoSmithKinen are thus lower than for companies like Intel that have only a few innovations on which sales rely.
Well, then. That means that Pfizer, as the biggest and most-merged-up drug company in the world, must have minimized its risk more than anyone in the industry. Right? And they should be doing just fine by that? Not laying people off right and left? Not closing any huge research sites? Not wondering frantically how they're going to replace the lost revenue from Lipitor? Not telling people that they're actually ditching several therapeutic areas completely because they don't think than can compete in them, given the risks? Not announcing a stock buyback program, because they apparently (and rather shamefully) think that's a better use of their money than putting it back into more R&D? I mean, how can Intel be doing better than that? It's almost like chip design is a different sort of R&D business entirely.
Well, this post is already too long, and there's more to discuss in another one, at least. But I wanted to add one more argument from economic reality, an extension of those little questions about Pfizer. If the cost of R&D for a new drug really were $43 million, as Light and Warburton would have it, and the financial and tax advantages so great, why isn't everyone pouring money into the drug industry? Why aren't VC firms lining up to get in on this sweet deal? I mean, $43 million for a drug, you should be able to raise that pretty easily, even in this climate - and then you just stand back as the money gushes into the sky. Don't you?
Why are drug approval rates so flat (or worse?) Why all the layoffs? Why all the doom and gloom? We're apparently doing great, and we never even knew.
Comments (48)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Business and Markets | Clinical Trials | Drug Development | Drug Industry History | Drug Prices | Why Everyone Loves Us
March 1, 2011
Posted by Derek
The Genentech/Roche drug Avastin has been in the news a lot lately, mostly about cost/benefit analysis for its uses in oncology. It's nobody's idea of a cheap drug even for those indications where it shows results. But there's one therapeutic area where it's actually the bargain alternative.
That's AMD, wet age-related macular degeneration. Stopping the growth of those leaking blood vessels in the eye is the standard therapy for the condition, so a VEGF-targeted therapy is just the thing. Lucentis is the anti-VEGF antibody that's approved for that use; it showed very impressive results in the clinic, and seems to perform just as well in the real world.
But Lucentis is expensive. And while it's different from Avastin, it's really not that different. It is, in fact, an opthalmic-delivery-optimized version of the same general antibody, and was developed by the same folks at Genentech. Avastin itself isn't packaged in units small enough for AMD therapy, but if you have a practice with a number of patients, well. . .by the time you split it out, an Avastin injection is about $50, versus nearly $2000 for Lucentis. In fact, a great many physicians in the US (possibly a majority) use Avastin off-label in just that fashion. A UK study last fall shored up that practice with some data, and a number of other studies are underway.
One of these, conducted by the NIH, should be reporting soon. And that's putting Roche/Genentech in an odd position. They have not supplied drugs for the trial, for one thing. Last fall the New York Times reported that rebates are now being offered to opthamologists if they'll use Lucentis, which many have interpreted as a preemptive maneuver to deal with the likely NIH results.
This is a mess, no doubt about it. While Genentech did indeed spend the time, money, and effort to develop Lucentis as a separate therapy, there seems to have been an active effort to avoid finding out if Avastin wouldn't have been just as good. The market does provide perverse incentives like this sometimes - this is an instance where I think that the NIH is doing exactly what it should be doing by running the head-to-head trial.
But I don't think that Roche is going to like the results. And they could find themselves arguing, simultaneously, that Avastin should not be used for AMD, even though it's cheaper than the alternatives and may well be just as effective, while Avastin should be used for metastatic breast cancer, even though it's more expensive than the alternatives and may well not be effective at all. And while the company will surely argue that the numbers are not what they appear, and that there are other numbers that say differently, and that it's all quite complex, they're going to be unable to escape the downward slice of Occam's razor: that in every case, they're arguing for the exact position that maximizes their revenue.
This is what companies do, of course. We shouldn't expect any less. But that doesn't mean that the revenue-maximizing path is always the right one, either.
Comments (26)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Drug Prices | Why Everyone Loves Us
February 28, 2011
Posted by Derek
Past performance (Phase II results) are no guarantee of future success (Phase III). That warning has been proven over and over in this business, and an awful lot of time, effort, and money have gone down the waste chute in the process. To give you an idea, though, of how hard it is to break out of that cycle, consider Renovo.
As the InVivoBlog details, Renovo was founded to try out ideas to reduce scar tissue formation. And their whole strategy was to go into humans as quickly as possible, to firm up the clinical relevance of their candidate therapies. That's a bit easier to do with something like scarring, if you can find patients willing to have small cuts made in their skin. That's just how one of the Phase II trials was run for the company's Juvista (recombinant TGF beta 3) - two cuts, one treated with the drug and one without. And the results looked quite good.
But not in Phase III. Earlier this month, the company announced that Juvista has completely, utterly missed its endpoints in the larger trial, and no one seems to know why. According to the InVivoBlog, investors were reduced on the conference call to asking if somehow the data collection had been messed up - surely some of the placebo group and the treatment group had been, uh, switched somehow? But no.
It's worth remembering, though, that not all the Phase II data were so convincing. In retrospect, the earlier trials that looked bad were predictive, while the impressive numbers appear to have been artifacts. But how do you figure that out in advance? And how do you run only the trials that will be predictive, and how do you know to trust them? I'm tempted to ask Francis Collins to get on this for all of us, but that would be unfair. I think.
Comments (17)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Drug Development
February 22, 2011
Posted by Derek
During the most recent Avastin controversy (with its conditional approval for metastatic breast cancer being pulled by the FDA), the role of follow-up studies in oncology became a big point of discussion.
Now there are reports that some companies aren't exactly following up in the way that they're supposed to. This isn't good. Conditional approvals are granted under the banner of "better to help people now than wait for more data", but eventually the numbers have to show up. After all, not all of these treatments are going to confirm when they're looked at more closely.
Not all of this can be put down to foot-dragging on the part of the companies. In some cases, it's proven hard to round up enough patients for further trials, and in others, the trial protocols themselves have become outdated. But there needs to be some way to review these things more regularly (as seems to be the case in the EU) to keep the process from getting tangled up.
You'll note from the article that opinions are all over the place on how lenient the FDA's approval process really is. You have people who say that the agency is dragging its feet on life-saving treatments, and people (looking at the same data set) who say that they're letting too much stuff through on the flimsiest grounds. We're not going to resolve that argument any time soon. But can we at least agree that we're going to require evidence at some point?
Comments (11)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cancer | Clinical Trials | Regulatory Affairs
January 31, 2011
Posted by Derek
Past results, they tell you, are no guarantee of future performance. Sanofi-Aventis is ready to tell you all about that after the results of a Phase III trial of their recently acquired oncology drug, iniparib (BSI-201). This had shown very strong results in Phase II against "triple-negative" breast cancer, but it appears to have missed two survival endpoints in a larger trial. Sanofi bought BiPar, the company that had been developing the drug, a little less than two years ago.
Iniparib's a small molecule indeed - small enough that its systematic name can be immediately parsed by any sophomore chemistry student. It's 4-iodo-3-nitrobenzamide; it's the sort of thing you can order out of a catalog. But it's also an inhibitor of poly-(ADP-ribose) polymerase I (PARP1), and it's the first compound of that class to get this far in the clinic. PARP1 is part of a DNA repair pathway, although it's not on the front line. That would be homologous recombination, which is the pathway that needs the well-known BRCA to function. The idea has been that since so many aggressive breast cancers are deficient in BRCA, that they'd be especially sensitive to something that targeted PARP as well - they should accumulate so many DNA breaks that they'd be unable to replicate.
That's a perfectly reasonable theory. But it doesn't seem to have yielded perfectly reasonable results in this case. Problem is, PARP1 has a lot of functions in the cell, and inhibiting the lot of them all at once may not be such a good idea. One possibility is that effects on the Akt pathway might boomerang and reduce the effectiveness of therapy.
More broadly, this is yet another illustration of the perils of Phase II data. And it does make a person think about the idea of tightening up the endpoints of such trials even more. Problem is, you often don't get good survival numbers until Phase III, anyway, by which time you've spent the money. Like Sanofi-Aventis is spending it now. Let's hope that one of the other indications for the drug works out better.
Update: here's a rundown on competition in this field. The next round of clinical data will be quite interesting. . .
Comments (10)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cancer | Clinical Trials
January 24, 2011
Posted by Derek
Here's a topic that's come up here before: for a new cancer drug, how much benefit is worthwhile? As it stands, we approve things when they show a statistically meaningful difference versus standard of care (with consideration of toxicology and side effects). But should our standards be higher?
That's what this paper in the Journal of the National Cancer Institute is proposing. The authors look at a number of recent Phase III trials for metastatic solid tumors. It's a tricky business:
When designing a randomized phase III clinical trial, the investigators must specify in the protocol the difference (δ) in the primary endpoint between experimental and control groups that they aim to detect or exclude (24). The number of patients to be recruited and the duration of the study will depend on the value of δ; increasing the sample size will allow the detection or exclusion of smaller values of δ. Ideally, trials should be designed such that δ represents the minimum clinically important difference, taking into account the tolerability and toxicity of the new treatment, that would persuade oncologists to adopt the new treatment in place of the standard treatment. Of course, the opinions of oncologists as to what constitutes a minimal important value of δ will vary, but a reasonable consensus can be reached by seeking the opinions of oncologists who manage a given type of cancer. For example, an increase in median survival by less than 1 month for patients with advanced-stage cancer would not be regarded by most as clinically important, unless the new agent had less toxicity than standard treatment, whereas an improvement of median survival by greater than 3 months for a drug that was reasonably well tolerated would usually be accepted as clinically important.
And the problem is, given the costs of some of these drugs versus their benefits, you run the risk of, finally, paying too much for too little. I know that people say that you can't put a cost on a human life, but that's probably not true, when you're talking about an entire economy. As the article points out, the rough estimate is that the developed world can support expenditures of up to roughly US $100,000 per year of life gained, but past that, we're into arguable territory. (If someone wants to spend more out of their own pocket, that's another matter, naturally, but at these levels, we're usually talking public and private insurance).
The benefits can indeed be marginal, and you have to look at the statistics carefully so as not to be misled:
. . .several trials showed a statistically significant difference in a major outcome measure between the experimental and control groups, but the difference in outcome was of lower magnitude (eg, hazard ratio was closer to one) than that specified in the protocol. For example, the clinical trial that led to approval of erlotinib for treatment of pancreatic cancer was designed to detect a relative risk reduction of 25% (HR ≤ 0.75), but the best estimate of hazard ratio from the trial showed a relative risk reduction of 18% (HR = 0.82, 95% confidence interval = 0.69 to 0.99). The difference was statistically significant (P = .038), but the median survival differed by only 10 days.
What happens is that the trials are (understandably enough) designed to detect the minimum difference that regulatory authorities are likely to find convincing enough for approval of the drug. And the FDA has generally set the bar at "anything that's statistically significant for overall survival". These authors (and others) would like to see that raised. They're calling for trials not to go for a statistically significant P value, so much as to show some sort of meaningful clinical benefit - because it's become clear that you can have the first without really achieving the second.
I think that might be a good idea, whether or not you buy into that cost-per-year-of-life figure or not. At this point, I think it's fair to say that we can come up with drugs that provide some statistical measure of efficacy, given enough effort in the clinic, for many kinds of cancer (although certainly not all of them). But how many add-a-month-maybe therapies do we need? Not everyone's convinced, though:
Wyndham Wilson, a lymphoma researcher at the National Cancer Institute in Bethesda, Maryland, argues that the proposed clinical endpoints are somewhat arbitrary. “What constitutes a clinically meaningful difference? Six months is obvious, but where do you cut the line?” What's more, he adds, simply focusing on median responses often ignores important outlier effects that could merit approval for an experimental drug. “The difference in overall survival may not be great, but it may be driven by a great benefit to a small group,” he says.
Problem is, it's often quite difficult to figure out who that small group might be, and just treat them, instead of treating everyone and hoping for the best. And there's always the argument that these therapies are stepping stones to more significant improvements, but I wonder about that. My impression of oncology research has always been more like "OK, this looks reasonable. Lots of these tumors have UVW upregulated; let's make an UVW inhibitor. (Years later): Hmm, that's disappointing. Our UVW inhibitor doesn't seem to do as much as you'd think it should. But now it's been found that XYZ looks like it's necessary for tumor growth; let's see if we can inhibit it. (Years later): Hmm, that's not as big an effect as you would have thought, either, is it? Seems to help a few people, but it's hard to say who they'll be up front. How's the JKL antagonist coming along? No one's tried that yet; looks like a good cell-division target. . ."
It's just sort of one thing after another - that one didn't work so well, neither did that one, this other one and these three together seem to be a bit better, but not always, and so on. Would we learn as much, or nearly so, just from the earlier clinical work on such compounds as opposed to taking them to market? And although you can't deny that there's been incremental progress, I'm not sure what form it's taking. It's very likely that the answer isn't to keep turning over mechanistic ideas until we find The One That Really Truly Works - cancer is a tough enough (and varied enough) disease that there probably isn't going to be one of those.
My guess is that meaningful cancer success will come from combinations of therapies that we mostly don't even have yet. I think that we'll need to hit several different mechanisms at the same time, but that some of what we'll need to hit hasn't even been discovered. And on top of that, each patient presents a slightly different problem, and ideally would receive a more customized blend of therapies (not that we know how to do that, either, in most cases).
What I'm saying is that we'll probably need combinations of things that already work better than most of what we have already, and that these will stand out enough in clinical trials that we'll know that they're worth developing. As it stands, though, companies see hints here and there in the clinic, enough to run a Phase III trial, and if it's large enough and tightly controlled enough, they see enough efficacy to get things through the FDA and onto the market. Would we be better off to not proceed with the marginal stuff, and put the significant amounts of money into things that stand out more? Or would that choke off the market too much, since we mostly end up making marginal things anyway (damn it all), leaving no one able to keep going long enough to find the good stuff? It's a hard business.
Comments (32)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cancer | Clinical Trials | Regulatory Affairs
January 20, 2011
Posted by Derek
So, as had been suspected, the reason that Merck's thrombin antagonist vorapaxar ran into clinical trouble was excessive bleeding. This is always the first thing to suspect when an anticoagulant has difficulty in human trials.
It's really a delicate balance, the human clotting cascade, and it's all too easy to end up on the wrong side of it. When you think about it, the whole pathway has to be under very tight regulation - I mean, here's the fluid that transports oxygen and nutrients and removes waste. Absolutely crucial to the life of every cell in the body. And here's an option to have that fluid thicken up and turn to jelly, very quickly, and once it happens it can't be reversed. No, you're going to want a lot of safeguards around that switch. But if you lean over too far the other way, well. . .there's a lot of vascular plumbing in the body, and it gets a lot of stress. Leaks and rips are inevitable. You have to have a method for patching holes, and it has to be ready to go everywhere, at all times. Dial it down just a bit too much, and hemorrhages are inevitable. Thus all the different clotting mechanism steps, and the different drugs targeting them.
As Matthew Herper explains at that link above, the prospect for this drug are completely dependent on which side of the line it ends up on. In this patient population, it's already stepped over - another result like this one, and vorapaxar could be completely sunk.
Comments (8)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials | Drug Development
January 17, 2011
Posted by Derek
Some time ago, I took nominations for Least Useful Animal Models. There were a number of good candidates, many of them from the CNS field. A recent report makes me think that these are even stronger contenders than I thought.
The antidepressant reboxetine (not approved in the US, but sold in a number of other countries by Pfizer) was recently characterized by a German meta-analysis of the clinical data as "ineffective and potentially harmful". Its benefits versus placebo (and SSRI drugs) have been overestimated, and its potential for harm underestimated. It was approved in Europe in 1997, and provisionally by the FDA in 1999, although that was later rolled back when more studies came in that showed lack of efficacy.
Much has been made of the fact that Pfizer had not published many of the studies they conducted on the drug. These do seem, however, to have been available to regulatory authorities, and were the basis for the FDA's decision not to grant full approval. As that BMJ link discusses, though, there's often not a clear pathway, especially in the EU, for a regulatory agency to go back and re-examine a previous decision based on efficacy (as opposed to safety).
So the European regulatory agencies can be faulted for not revisiting their decision on this drug in a better (and quicker) fashion, and Pfizer can certainly be faulted for letting things stand (in the face of evidence that the drug was not effective). All this is worrisome, but these are problems that are being dealt with. Since 2007, for example, trials for the FDA have been required to be posted at clinicaltrials.gov, although the nontranparency of older data can make it hard to compare newer and older treatments in the same area.
What's not being dealt with as well is an underlying scientific problem. As this piece over at Scientific American makes plain, reboxetine, although clinically ineffective, works just fine in all the animal models:
And this is a rough moment for scientists studying depression. Why? Because reboxetine works beautifully in our animal models. It’s practically a poster-child antidepressant. It produces acute effects in tests such as forced-swim tests and tail-suspension tests (which use changes in struggle as a measure of antidepressant efficacy). It produces neurogenesis in the hippocampus, which is thought to be correlated with antidepressant effects. When behavioral pharmacologists are doing comparisons between older antidepressants and newer ones, reboxetine is often used as a positive control, a drug known to have an effect in the behavioral test of choice.
But it doesn’t work in patients. And patients are what matters. Now, scientists are stuck with a difficult question: What went wrong?
A very good question, and one without any very good answers. And this certainly isn't the first CNS drug to show animal model efficacy but do little good in people. So, how much is the state of the art advancing? Are we getting anywhere, or just doing the same old thing?
Comments (45)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Animal Testing | Clinical Trials | Regulatory Affairs | The Central Nervous System | The Dark Side
January 13, 2011
Posted by Derek
Very bad news today for Merck (and the Schering-Plough people therein). Their thrombin receptor antagonist vorapaxar (formerly SCH 530348) has run into trouble.
A review board monitoring the compound's clinical trials has suddenly halted two of them. All we know at the moment is that the drug is "not appropriate for stroke patients", and it's also being pulled from a study in people who have had mild heart attacks. The best guess, as with any drug in the clotting field, is that it may be causing bleeding instead, but we'll have to see. Problem is, those are two of the more important patient populations that a company would be targeting, and if there's trouble in those groups, then it could be waiting to show up in others as well.
Vorapaxar has an unusual history at Schering-Plough (I wrote about it here, with some personal experiences from my own time at the company thrown in). I'm very sorry to see this news - sorry for the patients involved (and those who won't be helped later on), for the researchers involved (several of whom I've worked with in the past), and for Merck's investors, who are taking about a 6% trim today on the NYSE.
This compound wasn't the whole reason for Merck to buy Schering-Plough, but it wasn't a small part of the deal, either. That other stuff had better work out. . .
Comments (12)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Business and Markets | Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials | Drug Development
January 4, 2011
Posted by Derek
This story on a new diagnostic method in oncology is getting a lot of attention in the press. It's a collaboration between J&J, a small company they've bought called Veridex, and several oncology centers to see if very sensitive monitoring of circulating tumor cells could be a more useful biomarker.
The press coverage has some hype in it - for one thing, all the stuff about detecting one single cancer cell in the whole body isn't too helpful. The cells have to be circulating in the blood, and they have to display the markers you're looking for, to start with. But I can't deny that this is an interesting and potentially exciting field. There's some evidence to suggest that circulating tumor cells could be a strongly predictive marker can in several kinds of cancer.
These studies are looking at the sorts of endpoints that clinicians (and patients, and the FDA) all respect: overall survival, and progression-free survival. As discussed around here before, it's widely felt in oncology that these are where the field should really be spending its time, rather than on tumor size and so on. (You'd think that tumor size or number of detectable tumors would correlate with survival, but in many cases it's a strikingly poor predictor - which is a shame, since those are easier and faster numbers to get). A blood test, on the other hand, that strongly correlates with survival would be a real advance.
The value would not just be in telling (some) patients that they're showing better chances for survival, although I'm sure that'll be greatly appreciated. It's the patients whose numbers come back worse that may well be helped out the most, because that indicates that the current therapy isn't doing the job, and that it's time to switch to something else (assuming that there is something else, of course). The more quickly and confidently you can make that call, the better.
And from a drug development perspective, the uses of such assays in clinical trials are immediately obvious. Additionally, I'd think that these would be a real help to rolling-enrollment Bayesian trial designs, since you could assign patients to (and move them between) the different study groups with more confidence.
The Veridex/J&J assay (called CellSearch) uses an ingenious magnetic immunochemical approach. Blood samples are treated with antibody-coated iron nanoparticles that recognize a common adhesion protein. The cells that get bound are separated magnetically on a diagnostic chip for further immunostaining and imaging. There are other techniques out there as well - here's an article from Technology Review on a competing one that's said to be more sensitive, and here's a San Diego company trying to enter the market with an assay that's supposed to be broader-based). The key for all of these things will be bringing the costs down (and the speed of production up, in some cases). These are tests that ideally would be run early and often, so the cheaper and faster the assay can be made, the better.
Now, of course, we just need some more therapies that work, so that when people find out that their current regimen isn't working, then they have something else to try. If these circulating-cell assays help us sort things out faster in the clinic, maybe we'll be able to make better use of our time and money to that end.
Comments (14)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Analytical Chemistry | Cancer | Clinical Trials
December 1, 2010
Posted by Derek
Back in May, GlaxoSmithKline halted a trial of SRT501, which is a formulation of resveratrol, in myeloma. Now the folks at the Myeloma Beacon site are the first with the news that the company has halted all further development:
According to a GlaxoSmithKline spokesperson, an internal analysis of the kidney failure cases has concluded that they “most likely were due to the underlying disease … However, the formulation of SRT501 was not well tolerated, and side effects of nausea / vomiting / diarrhea may have indirectly led to dehydration, which exacerbated the development of the acute [kidney] failure.”
For this reason, the company decided to halt further development of SRT501 in multiple myeloma. The SRT501 formulation of resveratrol “may only offer minimal efficacy,” explained the Glaxo spokesperson, while increasing the chances of kidney failure. . .
. . .In a separate statement to The Myeloma Beacon, a Glaxo spokesperson explained the rationale for the company’s decision to halt all development of SRT501. Ending all work on SRT501, the spokesperson said, will allow Glaxo to focus its resources on the development of drugs that act similarly to SRT501, but have more favorable properties. The spokesperson mentioned, in particular, SRT2104 and SRT2379 as drugs similar to SRT501 that the company is developing.
These compounds are still a bit of a mystery - they've been in the clinical trial registry for a while, and are certainly the subject of active investigation, but we don't know how they fit into the whole activation-of-SIRT1 brouhaha. They haven't been challenged by the critics of the work, nor specifically defended by GSK, so we're just going to have to see how they perform out there in the real world (which was always going to be the final word, anyway).
But this would appear to be it for resveratrol itself in the real world, as far as GSK's concerned. Hey, does this mean that they'll let their two former Sirtris execs start selling it again on the side, now that they have no interest in the parent compound? One doubts it. But why not?
Comments (27)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Aging and Lifespan | Cancer | Clinical Trials
November 23, 2010
Posted by Derek
We talked a little while back here about "Lean Six Sigma" as applied to drug discovery organizations, and I notice that the AstraZeneca team is back with another paper on the subject. This one, also from Drug Discovery Today, at least doesn't have eleventeen co-authors. It also addresses the possibility that not everyone in the research labs might welcome the prospect of a business-theory-led revolution in the way that they work, and discusses potential pitfalls.
But I'm not going to discuss them here, at least not today. Because this reminds me of the post last week about the Novartis "Lab of the Future" project, and of plenty of other initiatives, proposals, alliances, projects, and ideas that are floating around this industry. Here's what they have in common: they're all distractions.
Look, no one can deny that this industry has some real problems. We're still making money, to be sure, but the future of our business model is very much in doubt. And those doubts come from both ends of the business - we're not sure that we're going to be able to get the prices that we've been counting on once we have something to sell, and we're not sure that we're going to have enough things to sell in the first place. (There, that summarized about two hundred op-ed pieces, some of them mine, in one sentence. Good thing that I'm not paid by the word for this blog.) These problems are quite real - we're not hallucinating here - and we're going to have to deal with them one way or another. Or they're going to deal with us, but good.
I just don't think that tweaking the way that we do things will be enough. We're not going to do it by laying out the labs differently, or putting different slogans up on the walls, or trying schemes that promise to make the chemists 7.03% more productive or reduce downtime in the screening group by 0.65 assays/month. This is usually where people trot out that line about rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic, but the difference is, we don't have to sink. The longer things go on, though, the more I worry that incremental improvements aren't going to bail us out.
This is a bit of a reversal for me. I've said for several years that the low success rates in the industry mean that we don't necessarily have to make some huge advance. After all, if we made it up to just 80% failure in the clinic, that would double the number of drugs reaching the market. That's still true - but the problem is, I don't see any signs of that happening. If success rates are improving anywhere, up and down the whole process from target selection to Phase III, it's sure not obvious from the data we have.
What worries me is that the time spent on less disruptive (but more bearable) solutions may be taking away from the time that needs to be spent on the bigger changes. I mean, honestly, raise your hands: who out there thinks that "Lean Six Sigma" is the answer to the drug industry's woes? Right. Not even all the consultants selling this stuff could get that one out with a straight face. "But it'll help!" comes the cry, "and it's better than doing nothing!". Well, in the short term, that may be true, although I'm not sure if there is a "short term" with some of these things. If it gives managers and investors the illusion that things are really being fixed, though, and if it takes mental and physical resources away from fixing them, then it's actually harmful.
What would it take to really fix things? Everyone knows - really, everyone does. Some combination of progress on the following questions would do just fine:
1. A clear-eyed look at target-based drug design, by which I mean, whether we should be doing it at all. More and more, I worry that it's been a terrible detour for the whole project of pharmaceutical research. There have been successes, of course, but man, look at the failures. And the number of tractable targets (never high) is lower than ever, as far as I can tell. If we're going to do it, though, we need. . .
2. The ability to work on harder target classes. The good ol' GPCRs and the easy-to-inhibit enzyme classes are still out there, and still have life in them, but the good ideas are getting thinner. But there are plenty of tougher mechanisms (chief among them protein-protein interactions) that have a lot of ideas running around looking for believable chemical matter. Making some across-the-board progress in those areas would be a huge help, but it would avail us not without. . .
3. Better selection of targets. Too many compounds fail in the clinic because of efficacy, which means that we didn't know enough about the biology going in. Most of our models of disease have severe limitations, and in many cases, we don't even know what some of those limitations are until we step into them. Maybe we can't know enough in many cases, so we need. . .
4. More meaningful clinical trials. And by that I mean, "for a given cost", because these multi-thousand-people multi-year things, which you need for areas like cardiovascular, Alzheimer's, osteoporosis, and so on, are killing us. We've got a terrible combination of huge potential markets in areas where we hardly know what we're doing. And that leads to gigantic, expensive failures. Could they somehow be less expensive? One way would be. . .
5. A better - and that means earlier - handle on human tox. I don't know how to do this one, either, but there are billions of dollars waiting for you if you can. Efficacy is the big killer in the late clinic these days, but that and toxicity put together account for a solid majority of the failures all the way through. (The rest are things like "Oops, maybe we should sell this program off" kinds of decisions).
There are plenty of others, but I think that improvements in those would fix things up just fine. Don't you? And maybe I'm just slow-witted, but I can't see how changing the way the desks face, or swapping out all the business cards for new titles, or realigning the therapeutic area teams - again - are going to accomplish any of it. At best, these things will make the current process run a bit better, which might buy us some more time before we have to confront the big stuff anyway. At worst, they'll accomplish nothing at all, but just give the illusion that something's being done.
To be fair, there are some initiatives around the industry that address these (and the other) huge problems. As I said, it's not like no one knows what they are. And to be fair, these really are difficult things to fix. Saying that you want to get a better early read on human tox in the clinic, the way I just did so blithely, is easy - actually doing something about it, or even finding a good place to start doing something about it, is brutally hard. But it's not going to be as brutal as what's been happening to us the last few years, or what's we're headed for if we don't get cracking.
Comments (53)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Business and Markets | Clinical Trials | Drug Development | Drug Industry History
November 19, 2010
Posted by Derek
Four years after the torcetrapib disaster, Merck has released some new clinical trial data on their own CETP inhibitor, anacetrapib. It's doing what it's supposed to, when added to a statin regimen: decrease LDL even more, and strongly raise HDL.
So that's good news. . .but it would actually be quite surprising if these numbers hadn't come out that way. Pfizer's compound had already proven the CETP mechanism; their compound did the same thing at this stage of the game. The problems came later, and how. And that's where the worrying kicks in.
As far as I know, no one is still quite sure why torcetrapib actually raised the death rate slightly in its phase III treatment group. One possible mechanism was elevated blood pressure (part of a general off-target effect on the adrenals) and Merck saw no sign of that. But no matter what, we're going to have to wait for a big Phase III trial, measuring real-world cardiovascular outcomes, to know if this drug is going to fly, and we're not going to see that until 2015 at the earliest. Well, unless there's unexpected bad news at the interim - that, we'll see.
I hope it doesn't happen. If the whole LDL-bad HDL-good hypothesis is correct, you'd think that a CETP inhibitor would show a strong beneficial effect. This compound is either going to help a lot of people, or it's going to tell us something really significant that we didn't know about human lipid handling (and/or CETP). Problem is, telling us something new is almost certainly going to be the same as telling us something bad. It's still going to be a long road in this area, and good luck to everyone involved. . .
Comments (17)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials | Toxicology
October 19, 2010
Posted by Derek
How reliable is the medical literature, anyway? This profile of John Ioannidis at The Atlantic is food for thought. Ioannidis is the man behind the famous "Why Most Published Medical Findings Are False" paper a few years ago, and many others in the same vein.
The problems are many: publication bias (negative findings don't get written up and reported as often), confirmation bias, and desire to stand out/justify the time and money/get a grant renewal. And then there's good old lack of statistical power. Ioannidis and his colleagues have noted that far too many studies that appear in the medical journals are underpowered, statistically, relative to the claims made for them. The replication rates of such findings are not good.
Interestingly, drug research probably comes out of his analysis looking as good as anything can. A large confirmatory Phase III study is, as you'd hope, the sort of thing most likely to be correct, even given the financial considerations involved. Even then, though, you can't be completely sure - but contrast that with a lot of the headline-grabbing studies in nutrition or genomics, whose results are actually more likely to be false than true.
Ioannidis's rules from that PLoS Medicine paper are worth keeping in mind:
The smaller the studies conducted in a scientific field, the less likely the research findings are to be true.
The smaller the effect sizes in a scientific field, the less likely the research findings are to be true.
The greater the number and the lesser the selection of tested relationships in a scientific field, the less likely the research findings are to be true.
The greater the flexibility in designs, definitions, outcomes, and analytical modes in a scientific field, the less likely the research findings are to be true.
The greater the financial and other interests and prejudices in a scientific field, the less likely the research findings are to be true.
The hotter a scientific field (with more scientific teams involved), the less likely the research findings are to be true.
And although he's talking about the published literature, these things are well worth keeping in mind when you're looking at your own internal data in a drug discovery project. Some fraction of what you're seeing is wrong.
Comments (17)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Drug Development | The Scientific Literature
August 17, 2010
Posted by Derek
As if one were needed, here's an example of how rough the state of current oncology therapy is today. Avastin, the antibody-based therapy from Genentech/Roche, had been approved (conditionally) for advanced breast cancer, based on a study showing about a five-month benefit in tumor growth. (Everyone should already know that such numbers, for many types of cancer, are indeed enough to get an indication approved, and everyone has, I'm sure, already decided what they think about that.)
But the approval came with a requirement to follow up on those results. For one thing, the study that led to conditional approval didn't show much of a survival benefit, making the approval itself controversial at the time.. The follow-up work has shown that those initial results were right on target. For metastatic breast cancer, Avastin has something like a month-and-a-half survival benefit. That probably doesn't outweigh the risks, and the FDA is seriously thinking about revoking that earlier approval.
Based on these numbers, I think that they should go ahead and do that. The whole point of conditional or accelerated approval is that it can go either way when the harder numbers come in, and in this case, it seems pretty clear that the benefit isn't there. No one cares about tumor growth if it doesn't affect survival or (at the very least) quality of life. And in this case, the later studies have suggested that even the earlier tumor growth numbers were too optimistic. You have to be willing to abide by the evidence.
Because of Avastin's high cost, this is probably going to turn into a rationing-health-care argument - in fact, it probably has already. But I'm not even talking cost here. Avastin, by the evidence we have, does not seem to help advanced breast cancer patients. It wouldn't help them even if it were free.
Comments (30)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cancer | Clinical Trials
August 16, 2010
Posted by Derek
The topic of new drugs for cancer has come up repeatedly around here - and naturally enough, considering how big a focus it is for the industry. Most forms of cancer are the very definition of "unmet medical need", and the field has plenty of possible drug targets to address.
But we've been addressing many of them in recent years, with incremental (but only rarely dramatic) progress. It's quite possible that this is what we're going to see - small improvements that gradually add up, with no big leaps. If the alternative is no improvement at all, I'll gladly take that. But some other therapeutic areas have perhaps made us expect more. Infectious disease, for example: the early antibiotics looked like magic, as patients that everyone fully expected to die started asking when dinner was and when they could go home. That's what everyone wants to see, in every disease, and having seen it (even fleetingly), we all want to have it happen again.
And it has happened for a few tumor types, most notably childhood leukemia. But we definitely need to add more to the list, and it's been a frustrating business. Believe me, it's not like we in the business aiming for incremental improvements, a few weeks or months here and there. Every time we go after a new target in oncology, we hope that this one is going to be - for some sort of cancer - the thing that completely knocks it down.
We may be thinking about this the wrong way, though. For many years now, there have been people looking at genetic instability in tumor cells. (See this post from 2002 - yes, this blog has been around that long!) If this is a major component of the cancerous phenotype, it means that we could well have trouble with a target-by-target approach. (See this post by Robert Langreth at Forbes for a more recent take). And here's a PubMed search - as you can see, there's a lot of literature in this field, and a fair amount of controversy, too.
That would, in fact, mean that cancer shares something with infectious disease, and not, unfortunately, the era of the 1940s when the bacteria hadn't figured out what we could do to them yet. No, what it might mean is that many tumors might be made of such heterogeneous, constantly mutating cells that no one targeted approach will have a good chance of knocking them down sufficiently. Since that's exactly what we see, this is a hypothesis worth taking seriously.
There are other implications for drug discovery. Anyone who's worked in oncology knows that the animal tumor models we tend to use - xenografts of human cell lines - are not particularly predictive of success. "Necessary but nowhere near sufficient" is about as far as I'd be willing to go. Could that be because these cells, however vigorously they grow, have lost (or never had) that rogue instability that makes the wild-type tumors so hard to fight? I haven't seen a study of genetic instability in these tumor lines, but it would be worth checking.
What we might need, then, are better animal models to start with - here's a review on some efforts to find them. From a drug discovery perspective, we might want to spend more time on oncology targets that work outside the cancer cells themselves. And clinically, we might want to spend more time studying combinations of agents right from the start, and less on single-drug-versus-standard-of-care studies. The disadvantage there is that it can be hard to know where to start - but we need to weigh that against the chances of a single agent actually working
Comments (50)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Animal Testing | Cancer | Clinical Trials | Drug Development
August 13, 2010
Posted by Derek
I'm of two minds on this New York Times article on Alzheimer's research. It details some recent progress on biomarkers for the disease, and that work does look to be useful. A lot of people have proposed diagnostics and markers for Alzheimer's and its progression over the years, but none of them have really panned out. If these do, that's something we haven't had before.
But my first problem is something we were talking about here the other day. Biomarkers are not necessarily going to help you in drug development, not unless they're very well validated indeed. We really do need them in Alzheimer's research, because the disease progression is so slow. And this effort is really the only way to find such things - a good-sized patient sample, followed over many years. But unfortunately, 800 people (divided out into different patient populations) may or may not be enough, statistically. We're now going to have to take the potential assays and markers that this work has brought up and see how well they work on larger populations - that's the only way that they'll be solid enough to commit a clinical trial to them. Both the companies developing drugs and the regulatory agencies will have to see convincing numbers.
That general biomarker problem is something we really can't do anything about; the only cures are time, effort, money, and statistical power. So it's not a problem peculiar to Alzheimer's (although that's a tough proving ground), or to this collaborative effort. But now we come to the collaborative effort part. . .overall, I think that these sorts of things are good. (This gets back to the discussions about open-source drug discovery we've been having here). Bigger problems need sheer manpower, and smaller ones can always benefit from other sets of eyes on them.
The way that this Alzheimer's work puts all the data out into the open actually helps with that latter effect. All sorts of people can dig through the data set, try out their hypotheses, and see what they get. But I think it's important to realize that this is where the benefit comes from. What I don't want is for people to come away thinking that the answer is that we need One Big Centralized Effort to solve these things.
My problem with the OBCE model, if I can give it an acronym, is that it tends to cut back on the number of ideas and hypotheses advanced. Big teams under one management structure don't tend to work out well when they're split up all over the place. There's managerial (and psychological) pressure, from all directions, to get everyone on the same idea, to really get in and push that one forward with all the resources. This is why I worry about all the consolidation in the drug industry: fewer different approaches get an airing when it's all under the roof of one big company.
So this Alzheimer's work is just the sort of collaboration I can admire: working on a big problem, sharing the data, and leaving things open so that everyone with an idea can have a crack at it. I just hope that people don't get the wrong idea.
Comments (3)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Alzheimer's Disease | Clinical Trials | Press Coverage | Who Discovers and Why
August 12, 2010
Posted by Derek
Update - see below for more on this story. GSK has reacted quickly. . .
Now this seems rather odd. According to Xconomy, two former Sirtris higher-ups have formed a nonprofit foundation which is selling resveratrol online.
Michelle Dipp, a Sirtris-turned-Glaxo executive, confirmed that the nonprofit that she and former Sirtris CEO Christoph Westphal co-founded last year has started online sales of resveratrol. Dipp leads the effort on the off hours when she isn’t doing her main job as senior vice president of Glaxo’s Center of Excellence for External Drug Discovery.
While the group is charging $540 for a one-year supply of resveratrol, Dipp says that the nonprofit is selling the supplements for cost and is not profiting from the sales.
And thanks to Hatch-Waxman, since this is being offered as a "dietary supplement", hey, it can go straight into people - people with $540, anyway:
To be clear, this resveratrol operation is a volunteer effort that Dipp and Westphal do on the side. Both are still employees of Glaxo, and they have also started a Boston venture firm called Longwood Founders Fund with fellow Sirtris co-founder Rich Aldrich.
“Our main business is brining new drugs to patients through our work at Longwood and (Glaxo),” says Dipp, who is president of the Healthy Lifespan Institute. “But there was so much demand for (resveratrol).”
I really don't know what to make of this. This formulation of resveratrol would appear to be basically SRT501, which has been involved in a number of clinical trials (and unexpectedly dropped out of one not too long ago). I can't recall another case where an investigational drug has also been sold as a dietary supplement, by some of the same people, who are working both for the company funding the trials and for a nonprofit foundation. I mean, what if GSK/Sirtris find a clinically relevant use for resveratrol? Why buy it from them if you can get it at cost? Or would all that change if SRT501 gets FDA approval? Makes a person's head hurt, it does. . .
Update - GSK has now asked Dipp and Westphal to resign from their institute, saying that they didn't realize that they were selling resveratrol. That didn't take long!
Comments (69)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Aging and Lifespan | Clinical Trials
July 27, 2010
Posted by Derek
I wanted to mention this good article in the New York Times on the amyloid hypothesis and Alzheimer's. That's a topic I've covered often here, but this is a good overview of the field. And it's a good overview of the field's big questions, too: is amyloid really the cause of Alzheimer's? Do we have any therapies that can slow amyloid deposition, or not? If so, do any of them actually show any real-world benefit to patients?
This gets into the broader question of biomarkers as well. The FDA is insisting, as they should, that any potential Alzheimer's therapy should show improvements in memory or cognition, not just improvements in number of plaques or the like. Getting that sort of data is very difficult, but it's really the only way to avoid yet another "You'd Have Thought That. . ." moment. We've been having too many of those over the last few years. As the FDA's director of neurology puts it:
“You only care if down the road the patient gets better,” Dr. Katz said. “What we are concerned about is approving a drug based on a lab test and being wrong about what happens to the patient clinically.”
With Alzheimer’s, Dr. Katz said, “the great fear is that maybe amyloid has nothing to do with the disease.” If that were the case, and the agency approved a drug that blocked amyloid formation, millions of healthy people could end up taking something useless or even dangerous. And because it takes so long for Alzheimer’s to develop, it could be decades, if ever, before anyone knew the drug did not work.
“It is a conundrum,” Dr. Katz said. “We all hope to get to the point in our understanding of the disease process where everyone in the field says: ‘Look. We know it now. Amyloid causes Alzheimer’s, and we have drugs that decrease amyloid.’ But we are not there yet.”
Biomarkers, ideally, are supposed to speed up drug development. But validating a good one might just as slow a process as if you didn't have a biomarker at all. What I worry about is a situation where the first people to discover these things end up with no chance to benefit from their work, but actually end up helping out other groups much more. And while there's a place for altruism in medical research, I doubt if making it the driving force will lead to success. . .
Comments (17)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Alzheimer's Disease | Clinical Trials
July 23, 2010
Posted by Derek
One big story from the last week was the FDA advisory panel's "No" decision on Qnexa, the drug-combo obesity therapy developed by Vivus. This is the one that's a combination of phentermine and topiramate, both of which have been around for a long time. And clinical trials showed that patients could indeed lose weight on the drug (with the required diet and exercise) - but also raised a lot of questions about safety.
And it's safety that's going to always be a worry with any obesity drug, even once you get past the (rather large) hurdle of showing efficacy. That's what took the Fen-Phen combination off the market, and what torpedoed Acomplia (rimonabant) and the other CB-1 compounds before they'd even been property launched. The FDA panel basically agreed that Qnexa helps with weight loss, but couldn't decide how bad the side effects might be in a wider patient population, and whether they'd be worth it:
But the drug has side effects, both known and theoretical. It may cause birth defects, it may increase suicide risk, it can cause a condition called metabolic acidosis that speeds bone loss, it increases risk of kidney stones, and may have other serious effects.
"It is difficult if not impossible to weigh these issues as the clinical trials went on only for a year, and patients will use this drug for lifetime," (panel chair Kenneth) Burman said. "It is impossible to extrapolate the trial data to the wider population."
That's a problem, all right, and it's not just Vivus that has to worry about it. When the potential number of patients is so large, well, any nasty side effects that are out there will show up eventually. How do you balance all these factors? Is it possible at all? As that WebMD article correctly points out, a new obesity drug will come on the market with all kinds of labeling about how it's only for people over some nasty BMI number, the morbidly obese, people with other life-threatening complications, and so on. But that's not how it's going to be prescribed. Not after a little while. Not with all the pent-up demand for an obesity drug.
Although that's probably the worst situation, this problem isn't confined to obesity therapies - any other drug that requires long-term dosing has this hanging over it (think diabetes, for one prominent example). That brings up the question that anyone looking over clinical trial data inevitably has to face: how much are the trials telling us about the real world? After all, the only way to be sure about how a drug will perform in millions of people for ten years is to dose millions of people for ten years. No one's going to want to pay for any drugs that have been through that sort of testing, I can tell you, so that puts us right where we are today, making judgment calls based on the best numbers we can get.
The FDA itself still has that call to make on Qnexa, and they could still approve it with all kinds of restrictive labeling and follow-up requirements. What about the other obesity compound coming along, then? A lot of people are watching Arena's lorcaserin (which I wrote about negatively here and followed up on here). Arena's stock seems to have climbed on the bad news for Vivus, but I have to say that I think that's fairly stupid. Lorcaserin may well show a friendlier side-effect profile than Qnexa, but if the FDA is going to play this tight, they could just let no one through at all - or send everyone back to the clinic for bankrupting.
As the first 5-HT2C compound to make it through, lorcaserin still worries me. A lot of people have tried that area out and failed, for one thing. And being first-to-market with a new CNS mechanism, in an area where huge masses of people are waiting to try out your drug. . .well, I don't see how you can not be nervous. I said the same thing about rimonabant, for the same reasons, and I haven't changed my opinion.
Since I got a lot of mail the last time I wrote about Arena, I should mention again that I have no position in the stock - or in any of the other companies in this space. But I could change my mind about that. If Arena runs up in advance of their FDA advisory panel in the absence of any new information, I'd consider going short (with money I could afford to lose). If I do that, I'll say so immediately.
Comments (24)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Diabetes and Obesity | Regulatory Affairs | The Central Nervous System | Toxicology
July 13, 2010
Posted by Derek
The New York Times has added to the arguments over Avandia (rosiglitazone) this morning, with an above-the-fold front page item on when its cardiovascular risks were first discovered. According to leaked documents, that may have been as early as the end of 1999 - just a few months after the drug had been approved by the FDA.
According to Gardiner Harris's article, SmithKline (as it was at the time) began a study that fall, and "disastrous" results were in by the end of the year that showed "clear risk" of cardiovascular effects. (They must have been disastrous indeed to show up in that short a time, I have to say). He quotes a memo from an executive at the company:
“This was done for the U.S. business, way under the radar,” Dr. Martin I. Freed, a SmithKline executive, wrote in an e-mail message dated March 29, 2001, about the study results that was obtained by The Times. “Per Sr. Mgmt request, these data should not see the light of day to anyone outside of GSK,” the corporate successor to SmithKline.
The only possible way I can see this being taken out of context would be if the rest of the memo talked about how poorly run the study was and how unreliable its data were - in which case, someone was an idiot for generating such numbers. But that puts the company in the situation of "idiots" being the most benign (and least legally actionable) explanation. Which is not where you want to be.
Without seeing the actual material, it's hard to comment further. But what's out there looks very, very bad.
Comments (30)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials | Diabetes and Obesity | The Dark Side | Toxicology
June 11, 2010
Posted by Derek
It's no secret that Alzheimer's disease has been a disastrous area in which to do drug discovery. Every large drug company has had failures in the area, and many smaller ones have gone out of business trying their hands. (I had several years in the field myself earlier in my career, trying three different approaches, none of which panned out in the end).
Now the Coalition Against Major Diseases has announced an open-access database of clinical trial results from failed drug candidates in the area. J&J, GlaxoSmithKline, Abbott, SanofiAventis, and AstraZeneca have contributed data from 11 failed drug candidates, and more look to be on the way from other companies. I hope that Eli Lilly, Merck (their own compounds and those from Schering-Plough), and Pfizer all join in on this - right off the top of my head, I can think of failed drugs from all of them, and I know that there are plenty more out there. (Pfizer seems to have dodged a question about whether or not they're participating, to judge from that Wall Street Journal article linked to above).
It'll be difficult to comb through all this to extract something useful, of course. But without sharing the data on these compounds, it would be utterly impossible for anything to come out of their failures. I think this is an excellent idea, and well worth extended to other therapeutic areas.
Comments (12)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Alzheimer's Disease | Clinical Trials | Drug Industry History
May 27, 2010
Posted by Derek
Pfizer was able to announce some good news today - their trial of Inspra (eplerenone) for patients with a particular combination of heart failure symptoms. The trial was halted early, but (for once) because the endpoints were reached so early that it would have been unethical to continue the placebo arm. It's always nice to hear about one of those; we don't get them that often.
The drug is an aldosterone antagonist which had already been approved several years ago for heart failure and hypertension, so it's not really a surprise that it worked in this population. But you never know, and Pfizer wanted to be able to get specifically recommended for patients of this type. And that they will.
Comments (13)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials
May 14, 2010
Posted by Derek
In early 2007 there was quite a stir caused by reports of dichloroacetate (DCA) salts as possible cancer therapies. I didn't cover it as well as I should have here, partly because I was in the final stages of getting laid off from my previous job at the time, but here's a good roundup from Orac while the story was going on. It appeared that dichloroacetate was quite active in a number of cancer cell lines, where it worked by some sort of metabolic disruption pathway, quite possibly involving the Warburg effect through inhibition of mitochondrial PDHK. In short form, what that means is that some of these tumors stop using glucose exclusively as an energy source, and divert more of it into other pathways where it's used as a feedstock for the synthesis of other biomolecules. That allows the cells to get by on less oxygen (since the traditional glucose pathways use up a fair amount), which is particularly important in a solid tumor. This is also tied with with a resistance to apoptosis (programmed cell death), so it makes a pretty good package, if you're a tumor cell. But it does leave them metabolically vulnerable, and there have been attempts over the years to target this. (The latest idea in the area is a kinase called PKM2, a good candidate for the key switch that turns on the whole Warburg effect).
The news sent a lot of people searching for their own sources of dichloroacetic acid, and also was the occasion for a lot of "Unpatentable Cancer Wonder Drug Ignored By Big Pharma" commentary, which is always enjoyable. A new paper is now out in Science Translational Medicine looking at DCA in glioblastoma. That's a good place to look, because aggressive solid tumors of that sort are probably the most vulnerable to a Warburg-effect strategy. The authors found that mitochondia from glioblastoma tissue isolated from a number of patients do indeed show the signs of altered metabolism, which DCA reversed in cell culture. And they present the results of treating 5 patients over a period of months with oral DCA therapy.
How'd it work? They were able to compare pre- and post-therapy tissue samples in only three of the patients, but all three showed signs that more cells were undergoing apoptosis, slowing the growth of the tumors. So this wasn't an amazing cancer-disappears result, but it definitely keeps the story going. Three patients is not enough to draw robust conclusions from, of course, and they did see some (reversible) neuropathy as a side effect, but I'd say that DCA is still worth looking into on a larger scale.
Should cancer patients just up and take it themselves? It's really hard to recommend that, since we still don't know a lot about what's going on with the stuff. But it's also hard to tell someone with a refractory solid tumor not to try whatever they can get their hands on.
Update: more from Orac, including details of all five patients treated in this study.
Comments (39)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cancer | Clinical Trials
May 6, 2010
Posted by Derek
I came across an article from 2007 that I'd missed, and I'm willing to bet others have, too. It's on the sometimes perverse incentives in developing oncology drugs (although the points in it apply to many other fields as well. The author (Tony Fiorino) is an investor, not a researcher, and seems to be an exceptionally clear-headed one.
He notes that larger profitable companies have more of an incentive to be careful about what drug candidates they take into the clinic, since they're spending their own profits when they do so. Start-up companies, on the other hand, tend to get valued according to how many clinical candidates they have going, so their incentive is to push things along rather more. . .briskly. This will be a familiar phenomenon to many readers here - the topic has come up whenever we talk about some compound wiping out in Phase III after what looked like promising data:
"This factor often leads development-stage companies to make very poor assessments with their own product candidates and to radically misjudge their likelihood of success. Indeed, if the fortunes of the entire company depend on the fate of a single phase II compound, and the interests of those deciding whether or not to enter phase III are tied entirely to the ongoing viability of the company, it would hardly seem surprising that companies push forward with the development of drugs when to objective outside observers further development seems futile. Indeed the market is likely to punish correct decision making by development-stage biotechnology companies. Given a set of questionable phase II data, the stock price of a company would suffer far more if management concluded it would be improper to expend shareholder capital on a phase III program likely to fail than if management decided to forge ahead into phase III on the basis of some dubious, post hoc subgroup analyses."
Of course, when this article was written, the funding environment was more permissive than it is today - but it will surely go that way again, and anyway, when the money is tight, the pressures to fight for it are even stronger.
"Thus, market forces do not produce efficient drug development; at least for the biotechnology industry, they may actually hinder it. This is particularly true in oncology drug development, where a set of unique circumstances conspire to make drug development more difficult and increase the likelihood that drug candidates are advanced too quickly. Zia et al1 documented a high rate of phase III failures in oncology, even when the phase III protocol uses a regimen identical to what was used in phase II. In particular, the lack of reliable surrogate markers and the common practice of looking for response rates in single arm trials make phase II oncology trials unreliable.
Most troubling, in my view (which is admittedly the view of a battle-scarred skeptic), oncology clinical development programs often appear to be designed specifically not to provide insight into the likelihood of success in phase III. . ."
Remind you of any events of the last few years? Fiorino's only answer to these problems is to call for the oncology clinical community to be more skeptical when it comes to enrolling patients in Phase III trials. And that might help a bit, but in a better world, we'd be running better Phase IIs.
Comments (19)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Business and Markets | Cancer | Clinical Trials | Drug Development
May 5, 2010
Posted by Derek
You don't often get to see so direct an exchange of blows as this: Steve Nissen, of cardiology and drug-safety fame, published an editorial about GlaxoSmithKline and Avandia (rosiglitazone) earlier this year in the European Heart Journal. And GSK took exception to it - enough so that that the company's head of R&D, Moncef Slaoui, wrote to the editors with a request:
". . .(the editorial) is rife with inaccurate representations and speculation that fall well outside the realm of accepted scientific debate. We strongly disagree with several key points within the editorial, most importantly those which imply misconduct on the part of GSK and have identified some of these issues below. On this basis, GSK believes that it is necessary for the journal to withdraw this editorial from the website and refrain from publishing it in hard copy, until the journal has investigated these inaccuracies and unsubstantiated allegations.
Instead of doing that the EHJ invited Nissen to rebut GSK's views, and ended up publishing both Slaoui's letter and Nissen's reply, while leaving the original editorial up as well. (Links are PDFs, and are courtesy of Pharmalot). Looking over the exchange, I think each of the parties score some points - but I have to give the decision to Nissen, because the parts that he wins are, to my mind, more important - both for a discussion of Avandia's safety and of GSK's conduct.
For example, Slaoui disagreed strongly with Nissen's characterization of the company's relations with a coauthor of his, Dr. John Buse. Nissen referred to him as a prominent diabetes expert who had been pressured into signing an agreement barring him from publicly expressing his safety concerns, but Slaoui countered by saying:
The document that Dr Buse signed was not an agreement barring him from speaking but was a factual correction regarding data, which did not bar him from speaking at all. In fact, Dr Buse subsequently communicated his views regarding the safety of rosiglitazone to FDA.
Nissen's reply is considerably more detailed:
The intimidation of Dr John Buse by GSK was fully described in a report issued by US Senate Committee on Finance.3 The Senate Report quotes an e-mail message from Dr Buse to me dated 23 October 2005 following publication of our manuscript describing the risks of the diabetes drug muraglitazar. In that e-mail, Buse stated: ‘Steve: Wow! Great job on the muraglitazar article. I did a similar analysis of the data at rosiglitazone’s initial FDA approval based on the slides that were presented at the FDA hearings and found a similar association of increased severe CVD events. I presented it at the Endocrine Society and ADA meetings that summer. Immediately the company’s leadership contact (sic) my chairman and a short and ugly set of interchanges occurred over a period of about a week ending in my having to sign some legal document in which I agreed not to discuss this issue further in public. I was certainly intimidated by them but frankly did not have the granularity of data that you had and decided that it was not worth it’. In an e-mail to GSK, Dr Buse wrote: ‘Please call off the dogs. I cannot remain civilized much longer under this kind of heat’
This, to me, looks like a contrast between legal language and reality, and in this case, I'd say reality wins. The same sort of thing occurs when the discussion turns to the incident where a copy of Nissen's original meta-analysis of Avandia trials was faxed to GSK while it was under review at the NEJM. Nissen characterizes this as GSK subverting the editorial process by stealing a copy of the manuscript, and Slaoui strongly disagrees, pointing out that the reviewer faxed it to them on his own. And that appears to be true - but how far does that go? GSK knew immediately, of course, that this was a manuscript that they weren't supposed to have, but it was then circulated to at least forty people at the company, where it was used to prepare the public relations strategy for the eventual NEJM publication. I don't think that GSK committed the initial act of removing the manuscript from the journal's editorial process - but once it had been, they took it and ran with it, which doesn't give them much ethical high ground on which to stand.
Many other issues between the two letters are matters of opinion. Did enough attention get paid to the LDL changes seen in Avandia patients? Did the lack of hepatotoxicity (as seen in the withdrawn first drug in this class) keep people from looking closely enough at cardiac effects? Those questions can be argued endlessly. But some of GSK's conduct during this whole affair is (unfortunately for them) probably beyond argument.
Comments (32)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials | Diabetes and Obesity | Toxicology | Why Everyone Loves Us
May 3, 2010
Posted by Derek
A comment to this post on the Sirtris compound saga just had me checking Clinicaltrials.gov. And indeed the commenter is correct: a trial against myeloma of a combination of Velcade (bortezomib) and SRT501, which I believe is reformulated resveratrol itself, was suspended as of April 22 for "unexpected safety concerns".
There's no way of knowing what those are, and it's worth keeping in mind that a number of other studies have been completed with SRT501. But since there's been (as far as I can tell) no mention of this trial's halt anywhere, I thought it worth noting.
Comments (35)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Aging and Lifespan | Cancer | Clinical Trials
April 16, 2010
Posted by Derek
You know, let's just declare this "Sketchy Biotech Day" around here. A reader sends along this intriguing news item from Maryland regarding Rexahn Pharmaceuticals. They recently reported clinical data on their lead compound, Serdaxin,:
On Tuesday, the Rockville company reported the drug performed well in a phase 2a clinical trial for treating patients with one such ailment: major depressive disorder. But the announcement also said "the overall study did not achieve statistical significance," worrying investors and sending Rexahn's stock price tumbling from $3.53 to $1.76 that day.
Wednesday morning, executives felt compelled to issue a follow-up statement, offering "additional commentary, clarifications and insights" to allay investors' concerns. That apparently did the trick — at least somewhat. By the end of trading on Wednesday, the price had rebounded to $2.15. By Thursday morning, shares had climbed to $2.51; they were trading at $2.47 Thursday afternoon.
In its initial statement, Rexahn said that results from the trial, which enrolled 77 patients at several sites in the U.S., "are compelling and warrant further study in a larger phase 2 trial."
Well, to me, "compelling" clinical trial numbers are a hard thing to sell without the statistics to back them up. But that's not slowing these folks down. Here I offer you what is perhaps the most breathtaking rationalization I have yet heard about drug development - and mind you, that is saying a lot. Says Rexahn's CEO:
"Based on the feedback and reaction from our shareholders, stakeholders and other market participants, it is clear that neither the purpose of the Serdaxin trial or its results were well understood.
"The purpose of the Serdaxin Phase IIa trial was to establish, as a proof of concept, that Serdaxin can work as an antidepressant drug for patients suffering from Major Depressive Disorder," Ahn said. "I am happy to say that this is exactly what the study accomplished. The trial results unambiguously reach the conclusion that patients, especially those suffering from severe depression, respond positively to Serdaxin.
"Some market participants have asked us why our overall trial results were not statistically significant," he said. "The answer is simply that the Serdaxin study was never designed to achieve statistical significance as a primary objective, but rather to establish a positive signal among treated patients. This is exactly what the trial succeeded in accomplishing."
So here you have it: a clinical trial that was, apparently, not designed to show statistical significance. And it didn't! Champagne for everyone! Think of how many other drugs have had results just this compelling, but we've all just been too stupid to realize what we had. Throw open the pharma mausoleums and let the dead compounds come forth!
Perhaps some day we'll all look back on this event as the Day the Drug Industry Changed Forever. Or perhaps it's time to ask just what Serdaxin is. . .well, you'll never guess. It's clavulanic acid. (See, I told you that you wouldn't get it). Yep, the beta-lactamase inhibitor that's given as part of Augmentin, to overcome resistant strains of bacteria. Weirdly, it does seem to penetrate the blood-brain barrier, which is not something I would have guessed. And the Rexahn people have done some animal studies that suggest it has anxiolytic effects (as well as effects on sexual arousal, which they're not ignoring: that, friends, is the drug development candidate Zoraxel on their web site. Still clavulanic acid, though, but a rose by any other name. . .).
But none of that means a thing unless you achieve results in humans. And though I hate to contradict such a visionary mind as Dr. Ahn's, I'm afraid I'm going to have to hold out for statistical significance. And wonder, in the meantime, if any of the zillions of people who've taken clavulanate before ever noticed any elevation in their mood. Never happened to me, that's for sure. . .
Comments (54)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Drug Development | Infectious Diseases | The Central Nervous System
April 1, 2010
Posted by Derek
Ardea's serendipitous gout drug RDEA594, which I wrote about here last year, is still alive. Phase IIb results had the compound meeting its endpoints (although not at the lowest dose), so on it goes to Phase III. Since we've been talking all week around here about how Phase III is a different world, it's worth noticing that the primary endpoint is still a biomarker (reduction of serum urate levels), not a real clinical outcome. But in the case of gout, that association is probably strong enough to be optimistic. Good luck to 'em.
Comments (1)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials
March 30, 2010
Posted by Derek
A new paper in PLoS Biology looks at animal model studies reported for the treatment of stroke. The authors use statistical techniques to try to estimate how many have gone unreported. From a database with 525 sources, covering 16 different attempted therapies (which together come to 1,359 experiments and 19,956 animals), they find that only a very small fraction of the publications (about 2%) report no significant effects, which strongly suggests that there is a publication bias at work here. The authors estimate that there may well be around 200 experiments that showed no significant effect and were never reported, whose absence would account for around one-third of the efficacy reported across the field. In case you're wondering, the therapy least affected by publication bias was melatonin, and the one most affected seems to be administering estrogens.
I hadn't seen this sort of study before, and the methods they used to arrive at these results are interesting. If you plot the precision of the studies (Y axis) versus the effect size (X axis), you should (in theory) get a triangular cloud of data. As the precision goes down, the spread of measurements across the X-axis increases, and as the precision goes up, the studies should start to converge on the real effect of the treatment, whatever that might be. (In this study, the authors looked only at reported changes in infarct size as a measure of stroke efficacy). But in many of the reported cases, the inverted-funnel shape isn't symmetrical - and every single time that happens, it turns out that the gaps are in the left-hand side of the triangle, the not-as-precise and negative-effect regions of the plots. This doesn't appear to be just due to less-precise studies tending to show positive effects for some reason - it strongly suggests that there are negative studies that just haven't been reported.
The authors point out that applying their statistical techniques to reported human clinical studies is more problematic, since smaller (and thus less precise) trials may well involve unrepresentative groups of patients. But animal studies are much less prone to this problem.
The loss of experiments that showed no effect shouldn't surprise anyone - after all, it's long been known that publishing such papers is just plain harder than publishing ones that show something happening. There's an obvious industry bias toward only showing positive data, but there's an academic one, too, which affects basic research results. As the authors put it:
These quantitative data raise substantial concerns that publication bias may have a wider impact in attempts to synthesise and summarise data from animal studies and more broadly. It seems highly unlikely that the animal stroke literature is uniquely susceptible to the factors that drive publication bias. First, there is likely to be more enthusiasm amongst scientists, journal editors, and the funders of research for positive than for neutral studies. Second, the vast majority of animal studies do not report sample size calculations and are substantially underpowered. Neutral studies therefore seldom have the statistical power confidently to exclude an effect that would be considered of biological significance, so they are less likely to be published than are similarly underpowered “positive” studies. However, in this context, the positive predictive value of apparently significant results is likely to be substantially lower than the 95% suggested by conventional statistical testing. A further consideration relating to the internal validity of studies is that of study quality. It is now clear that certain aspects of experimental design (particularly randomisation, allocation concealment, and the blinded assessment of outcome) can have a substantial impact on the reported outcome of experiments. While the importance of these issues has been recognised for some years, they are rarely reported in contemporary reports of animal experiments.
And there's an animal-testing component to these results, too, of course. But lest activists seize on the part of this paper that suggests that some animal testing results are being wasted, they should consider the consequences (emphasis below mine):
The ethical principles that guide animal studies hold that the number of animals used should be the minimum required to demonstrate the outcome of interest with sufficient precision. For some experiments, this number may be larger than those currently employed. For all experiments involving animals, nonpublication of data means those animals cannot contribute to accumulating knowledge and that research syntheses are likely to overstate biological effects, which may in turn lead to further unnecessary animal experiments testing poorly founded hypotheses.
This paper is absolutely right about the obligation to have animal studies mean something to the rest of the scientific community, and it's clear that this can't happen if the results are just sitting on someone's hard drive. But it's also quite possible that for even some of the reported studies to have meant anything, that they would have had to have used more animals in the first place. Nothing's for free.
Comments (19)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Animal Testing | Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials | Drug Assays | The Scientific Literature
Posted by Derek
Another promising Phase II oncology idea goes into the trench in Phase III: GenVec has been working on a gene-therapy approach ("TNFerade") to induce TNF-alpha expression in tumors. That's not a crazy idea, by any means, although (as with all attempts at gene therapy) getting it to work is extremely tricky.
And so it has proved in this case. It's been a long, hard process finding that out, too. Over the years, the company has looked at TNFerade for metastatic melanoma, soft tissue sarcoma, and other cancers. They announced positive data back in 2001, and had some more encouraging news on pancreatic cancer in 2006 (here's the ASCO abstract on that one). But last night, the company announced that an interim review of the Phase III trial data showed that the therapy was not going to make any endpoint, and the trial was discontinued. Reports are that TNFerade is being abandoned entirely.
This is bad news, of course. I'd very much like gene therapy to turn into a workable mode of treatment, and I'd very much like for people with advanced pancreatic cancer to have something to turn to. (It's truly one of the worst diagnoses in oncology, with a five-year survival rate of around 5%). A lot of new therapeutic ideas have come up short against this disease, and as of yesterday, we can add another one to the list. And we can add another Promising in Phase II / Nothing in Phase III drug to the list, too, the second one this week. . .
Comments (8)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Biological News | Cancer | Clinical Trials
March 29, 2010
Posted by Derek
We get reminded again and again that interesting Phase II results are only that: interesting, and no guarantee of anything. Antisoma (and their partner Novartis) are the latest company to illustrate that painful reality - their drug AS404 (vadimezan) looked in Phase II as if it might be a useful addition to oncology treatments, but has completely missed its endpoints in the bigger, more realistic world of Phase III. The trial was halted after an interim analysis showed basically no hope of it showing benefit if things continued.
There are many reasons for why these things happen. Phase II trials are typically smaller, and their patient populations are more carefully selected. And they're quite susceptible to wishful thinking. They're designed to keep things going, to show some reason to proceed, and they often do. If your drug candidate makes it through Phase II, that may say more about how you designed the trial than it says about the compound.
That's not to say that getting past Phase II is meaningless. Compared to having no efficacy data at all, it's a big step. But Phase III, when a compound goes out to a larger and more diverse patient population, is a much bigger one. And plenty of candidates aren't up to it.
Comments (28)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cancer | Clinical Trials
March 26, 2010
Posted by Derek
As we slowly attack the major causes of disease, and necessarily pick the low-lying fruit in doing so, it can get harder and harder to see the effects of the latest advances. Nowhere, I'd say, is that more true than for cardiovascular disease, which is now arguably the most well-served therapeutic area of them all. It's not that there aren't things to do (or do better) - it's that showing the benefit of them is no easy task.
Robert Fortner has a good overview of the problem here. The size of the trials needed in this area is daunting, but they have to be that size to show the incremental improvements that we're down to now. He also talks about oncology, but that one's a bit of a different situation, to my mind. There's plenty of room to show a dramatic effect in a lot of oncology trials, it's just that we don't know how to cause one. In cardiovascular, on the other hand, the space in which to show something amazing has flat-out decreased. This is a feature, by the way, not a bug. . .
Comments (40)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cancer | Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials | Drug Industry History
March 25, 2010
Posted by Derek
In recent years, readers of the top-tier journals have been bombarded with papers on nanotechnology as a possible means of drug delivery. At the same time, there's been a tremendous amount of time and money put into RNA-derived therapies, trying to realize the promise of RNA interference for human therapies. Now we have what I believe is the first human data combining both approaches.
Nature has a paper from CalTech, UCLA, and several other groups with the first data on a human trial of siRNA delivered through targeted nanoparticles. This is only the second time siRNA has been tried systemically on humans at all. Most of the previous clinical work has been involved direct injection of various RNA therapies into the eye (which is a much less hostile environment than the bloodstream), but in 2007, a single Gleevec-resistant leukaemia patient was dosed in a nontargeted fashion.
In this study, metastatic melanoma patients, a population that is understandably often willing to put themselves out at the edge of clinical research, were injected with engineered nanoparticles from Calando Pharmaceuticals, containing siRNA against the ribonucleotide reductase M2 (RRM2) target, which is known to be involved in malignancy. The outside of the particles contained a protein ligand to target the transferrin receptor, an active transport system known to be upregulated in tumor cells. And this was to be the passport to deliver the RNA.
A highly engineered system like this addresses several problems at once: how do you keep the RNA you're dosing from being degraded in vivo? (Wrap it up in a polymer - actually, two different ones in spherical layers). How do you deliver it selectively to the tissue of interest? (Coat the outside with something that tumor cells are more likely to recognize). How do you get the RNA into the cells once it's arrived? (Make that recognition protein is something that gets actively imported across the cell membrane, dragging everything else along with it). This system had been tried out in models all the way up to monkeys, and in each case the nanoparticles could be seen inside the targeted cells.
And that was the case here. The authors report biopsies from three patients, pre- and post-dosing, that show uptake into the tumor cells (and not into the surrounding tissue) in two of the three cases. What's more, they show that a tissue sample has decreased amounts of both the targeted messenger RNA and the subsequent RRM2 protein. Messenger RNA fragments showed that this reduction really does seem to be taking place through the desired siRNA pathway (there's been a lot of argument over this point in the eye therapy clinical trials).
It should be noted, though, that this was only shown for one of the patients, in which the pre- and post-dosing samples were collected ten days apart. In the other responding patient, the two samples were separated by many months (making comparison difficult), and the patient that showed no evidence of nanoparticle uptake also showed, as you'd figure, no differences in their RRM2. Why Patient A didn't take up the nanoparticles is as yet unknown, and since we only have these three patients' biopsies, we don't know how widespread this problem is. In the end, the really solid evidence is again down to a single human.
But that brings up another big question: is this therapy doing the patients any good? Unfortunately, the trial results themselves are not out yet, so we don't know. That two-out-of-three uptake rate, although a pretty small sample, could well be a concern. The only between-the-lines inference I can get is this: the best data in this paper is from patient C, who was the only one to do two cycles of nanoparticle therapy. Patient A (who did not show uptake) and patient B (who did) had only one cycle of treatment, and there's probably a very good reason why. These people are, of course, very sick indeed, so any improvement will be an advance. But I very much look forward to seeing the numbers.
Comments (9)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Biological News | Cancer | Clinical Trials | Pharmacokinetics
March 22, 2010
Posted by Derek
I mentioned Benford's Law in passing in this post (while speculating on how long people report their reactions to have run when publishing their results). That's the rather odd result that many data sets don't show a random distribution of leading digits - rather, 1 is the first digit around 30% of the time, 2 leads off about 18% of the time, and so on down.
For data that come from some underlying power-law distribution, this actually makes some sense. In that case, the data points spend more time being collected in the "lag phase" when they're more likely to start with a 1, and proportionally less and less time out in the higher-number-leading areas. The law only holds up when looking at distributions that cover several orders of magnitude - but all the same, it also seems to apply to data sets where there's no obvious exponential growth driving the numbers.
Lack of adherence to Benford's Law can be acceptable as corroborative evidence of financial fraud. Now a group from Astellas reports that several data sets used in drug discovery (such as databases of water solubility values) obey the expected distribution. What's more, they're suggesting that modelers and QSAR people check their training data sets to make sure that those follow Benford's Law as well, as a way to make sure that the data have been randomly selected.
Is anyone willing to try this out on a bunch of raw clinical data to see what happens? Could this be a way to check the integrity of reported data from multiple trial centers? You'd have to pick your study set carefully - a lot of the things we look for don't cover a broad range - but it's worth thinking about. . .
Comments (9)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | In Silico | The Dark Side
March 15, 2010
Posted by Derek
It's easy to lose sight of what a drug is supposed to do. Many conditions come on so slowly that we have to use blood chemistry or other markers to see the progress of therapy in a realistic time. And over time, that blood marker can get confused with the disease itself.
To pick one famous example, try cholesterol. Everyone you stop on the street will know that "high cholesterol is bad for you". But the first thing you have to do is distinguish between LDL and HDL cholesterol - if the latter is a large enough fraction of the total, the aggregate number doesn't matter as much. And fundamentally, there's not a disease called "high cholesterol" - that's a symptom of some other cluster of metabolic processes that have gone subtly off. And the endpoint of any therapy in that field isn't really to lower the number in a blood test: it's to prevent heart attacks and to extend healthy lifetimes, mortality and morbidity. As we're seeing with Vytorin, it may be possible to drop the numbers in a blood test but not see the benefit that's supposed to be there.
Another example of this came up over the weekend. The fibrates are a class of drugs that change lipid levels, although the way they work is still rather obscure. They're supposed to be ligands for the PPAR-alpha nuclear receptor, but they're not very potent against it when you study that closely. At any rate, they do lower triglycerides and have some other effects, which should be beneficial in patients whose lipids are off and are at risk for cardiac problems.
But are they? Type II diabetics tend to be people who fit that last category well, and that's where a lot of fenofibrate is prescribed (as Abbott's Tricor in the US, and under a number of other names around the world). A five-year study in over five thousand diabetic patients, though, has just shown no difference versus placebo. Again, there's no doubt that the drug lowers triglycerides and changes the HDL/LDL/VLDL ratios. It's just that, for reasons unknown, doing so with fenofibrate doesn't seem to actually help diabetic patients avoid cardiac trouble.
Mortality and morbidity: lowering them is a very tough test for any drug, but if you can't, then what's the point of taking something in the first place? This is something to keep in mind as the push for biomarkers delivers more surrogate endpoints. Some of them will, inevitably, turn out not to mean as much as they're supposed to mean.
Comments (15)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials | Diabetes and Obesity | Drug Assays
March 11, 2010
Posted by Derek
If you want to know why people continue to speculate in biotech stocks, just take a look at the stairsteppy last few days of trading in Intermune (ITMN). Last Thursday it was at $15; now it's at $38. And all you have to do to cash in on these moves is read the FDA's mind!
That's not a money-making proposition, in case anyone thinks I'm advocating it. There are just too many surprises. But Intermune's good fortune started last week, when the FDA briefing documents came out on the application on the company's pirfenidone for idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis and were characterized as "not as bad as they could have been". (The company's history of overzealous PR wasn't helping it at this point). And if you still don't think that the moves in the stock have been surprising, consider that two ITMN executives sold shares on after the first jump, missing out on the second one completely when the FDA advisory panel gave the drug a favorable recommendation.
Pirfenidone, by the way, is another structure entry in the so-simple-I-can't-believe-it drug sweepstakes. If approved, it would be the first specific therapy for IPF, which can be a nasty disease. I certainly hope it helps out the patients involved (a few hundred thousand in the US), but that small patient population means that the drug isn't going to be cheap. Intermune's investors certainly don't think so.
But as has been clear for some time, we're in a rather tricky environment for expensive health care options. If pirfenidone makes it, I'd guess that it will be picked up widely, but cautiously, by health insurance. No one knows how it'll perform in the real world, and if little benefit is seen, it'll be hard to justify reimbursing for it. (It made one Phase III trial's endpoint, but missed another one, so there's room to wonder). The more cost-conscious European regulatory agencies will be a good place to watch this argument play out. One correspondent of mine refers to the drug as the next Iressa. That's not a compliment.
Comments (5)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Business and Markets | Clinical Trials | Regulatory Affairs
March 9, 2010
Posted by Derek
Well, it takes all kinds to make a market. And the collapse in Medivation's shares after their disastrous Phase III results the other day seem to have brought out some hopeful buyers. Take this guy:
. . .I'm telling you right now, I believe that sell-off has gone twice as deep as good sense can justify. At least, that's the way I see it.
First off, we should understand that drug trials are Medivation's business. Clinical trials are what the company does. This failed phase 3 study isn't to be considered a crash into a brick wall. It's not a crippling lawsuit. It's not the loss of a major customer account. It's simply a sudden downshift, a temporary change of gears. In many ways, for Medivation, it's just one facet of business as usual.
As I look at Medivation's one-year and three-year performance charts, the opening to invest is just screaming at me. . .
All I can say is "Go for it, chief!" I might just add, very quietly, that early-stage drug discovery is not really the kind of business where one-year and three-year stock performance is much of a guide. And it's also worth remembering that although clinical trials are indeed what drug companies do, we try not to do big honking Phase III face-plants. You don't start clinical trials that you think are going to end that way, so a crash into a brick wall is actually not a bad analogy.
But hey - the dented hubcaps have just about finished wobbling around into the dust, and who knows, the stock might actually bounce back up a little bit, thanks to the brave and the foolhardy. But if Medivation is ever to make it back to where it was, I don't see how it's going to be because of Dimebon.
Via RJAlvarez on Twitter, who says "Tough call, but this is perhaps the worst post recommending a biotch stock I've ever read."
Comments (6)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Business and Markets | Clinical Trials
March 4, 2010
Posted by Derek
Robert Langreth, an editor at Forbes, points to a possible way that Dimebon could get approval for Alzheimer's: for its behavioral effects, not anything to do with amyloid or memory.
I'm not buying it, I have to say. Even Langreth's source admits that behavioral numbers didn't reach statistical significance. I don't see how this will be enough to rescue this one, even if one of the ongoing trials does use a behavioral score as an endpoint.
Update: Langreth has an earlier piece on how Dimebon appears to have been overhyped from the beginning, a viewpoint I concur with. The same thing happens with any drug for Alzheimer's, and is a constant problem in cancer and obesity, too.
Comments (16)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Alzheimer's Disease | Clinical Trials | The Central Nervous System
March 3, 2010
Posted by Derek
Earlier this month I wrote about Medivation and their Russian-derived clinical candidate for Alzheimer's disease, Dimebon (latrepirdine). At the time, I wrote that "A lot of eye-catching numbers from small Phase II trials tend to flatten out in the wider world of Phase III, and if forced, that's the way I'd bet here."
Unfortunately, that's just what appears to have happened. The results are out today, and Dimebon has not showed any efficacy at all versus placebo. From the data given in the press release, the comparison is just absolutely flat; you could have been giving the study patients breath mints and seen the same numbers. Since the design of this trial was similar to the smaller Phase II trials that showed such interesting results, there's clearly something going on that we don't understand. But that's the motto for all central nervous system research, isn't it?
I'm really not sure if there's a way forward for this drug. When you go to a larger, more well-controlled trial and revert back to baseline, it's hard to make a case for continued development. Pfizer (Medivation's partner here) still has a lot of money and a lot of desire to find a good Alzheimer's drug. But I don't think they'll be in the mood to spend much more of it here.
Comments (29)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Alzheimer's Disease | Clinical Trials
February 26, 2010
Posted by Derek
For years now, drug companies and journalists have been touted the new era of personalized medicine. This is one of those things that always seems to be arriving, but is taking its time getting here. The industry has sunk a huge pile of money into biomarker research, and it's safe to say that it hasn't paid off yet - although, at the same time, one still has to think that it should, eventually.
Nature Biotechnology has a good article that shows how tricky the whole business can be. HER2 is one of the more validated cancer biomarkers, and there's a drug (Herceptin) that's targeted specifically for breast cancer patients that express it. So how's that going? Not so well:
A recent study from the University of California, San Francisco, reveals that one in five HER2 tests gives the wrong answer1. Furthermore, the article, which reviews the medical literature, reports that as many as two-thirds of breast cancer patients who should be tested for HER2 are not, and consequently a significant fraction of women treated with Genentech's Herceptin (trastuzumab) have never been tested for HER2 overexpression.
The health benefit provider Wellpoint, of Indianapolis, might dispute that finding. According to Genentech staff scientist Mark Sliwkowski, the insurer has data showing that 98% of its breast cancer patients are tested. However, doctors differ in their views on testing before prescribing Herceptin. “Some doctors don't know how to interpret test results, they prefer just to prescribe it and assess the patient's progress,” says Michael Liebman of the patient stratification company Strategic Medicine of Kennett Square, Pennsylvania.
More than a decade after the drug received US Food and Drug Administration (FDA) approval, the personalized medicine paradigm clearly has holes. . .
That it does. As the article goes on to explain, there are doubts about how good many of the existing HER2 tests are, worries about how they don't always agree, questions about whether some HER2-negative patients might be benefiting from Herceptin anyway, and more questions about those results due to uncertainties about the tests. That's the state of the art right there, folks, and it's clear that we have a long way to go. I don't see any reason why biomarkers (of various kinds, not just genetic) won't help us figure out which patients should be getting which drugs, but don't let anyone tell you that we're there yet.
Comments (15)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cancer | Clinical Trials | Regulatory Affairs
February 24, 2010
Posted by Derek
Well, this is interesting. Back when Steve Nissen was about to publish his meta-analysis on the safety of Avandia (rosigiltazone), he met with several GlaxoSmithKline executives before the paper came out. At the time, GSK was waiting on data from the RECORD study, which was trying to address the same problem (unconvincingly, for most observers, in the end). Nissen had not, of course, shown his manuscript to anyone at GSK, and for their part, the execs had not seen the RECORD data, since it hadn't been worked up yet.
Well, not quite, perhaps on both counts. As it happens, a reviewer had (most inappropriately) faxed a copy of Nissen's paper-in-progress to the company. And GSK's chief medical officer managed to refer to the RECORD study in such a way that it sounds as if he knew how it was coming out. How do we know this? Because Nissen secretly taped the meeting - legal in Ohio, as long as one party knows the taping is going on. At no point does anyone from GSK give any hint that they knew exactly what was in Nissen's paper. Here's some of it:
Dr. Krall asked Dr. Nissen if his opinion of Avandia would change if the Record trial — a large study then under way to assess Avandia’s risks to the heart — showed little risk. Dr. Krall said he did not know the results of Record.
“Let’s suppose Record was done tomorrow and the hazard ratio was 1.12. What does...?” Dr. Krall said.
“I’d pull the drug,” Dr. Nissen answered quickly.
The interim results of Record were hastily published in The New England Journal of Medicine two months later and showed that patients given Avandia experienced 11 percent more heart problems than those given other treatments, for a hazard ratio of 1.11. But the trial was so poorly designed and conducted that investigators could not rule out the possibility that the differences between the groups were a result of chance.
Somehow, I don't think that many pharma executives are going to agree to meetings with Nissen in his office in Cleveland after this. But I certainly don't blame him for making the tape, either.
Comments (24)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials | Diabetes and Obesity | The Dark Side | Toxicology
February 22, 2010
Posted by Derek
The New York Times is starting a series of articles on the clinical trials of a recent B-Raf inhibitor (from Plexxikon and Roche, PLX4032). The first installment is an excellent look at what early-stage clinical research is like in this field. For example:
Typically, Phase 1 trials are limited to a few dozen patients and end when the dose reaches the point where side effects like rashes and diarrhea make patients too uncomfortable.
Dr. Flaherty and Dr. Chapman started the first three patients on 200 milligrams per day. After two months with no side effects — and no response — they doubled it.
Two more months passed, still nothing. They gave three more patients 800 milligrams, the equivalent of the dose that made tumors stop growing in mice. Even shrinking tumors, the doctors knew, would not mean the cancer had been cured but might at least offer a reprieve.
Dr. Flaherty pounced on the scans when they arrived. In some patients, tumors had remained the same size. “Maybe we’re starting to see something,” he could not help thinking. But at the next set of scans, the disease had progressed. On conference calls, Dr. Nolop sometimes referred to those patients as “responders.”
“They’re not responders,” Dr. Flaherty gently corrected him: under the accepted definition, tumors had to shrink to qualify patients as responders.
By the time they had doubled the dose four times, Dr. Flaherty could not help wondering if the targeted therapy skeptics were right. Dr. Chapman, crisp and businesslike on the weekly calls, supplied no comfort. He pointed out new research that B-RAF was mutated even in benign moles, and therefore could not be the key driver in melanoma. . .
What everyone involved in this work has to deal with is living between two very different mental states: you have to see people who are dying, and who you will probably not be able to help, even with your best efforts. But it's also possible that the next new thing you try might be the thing that keeps some of them alive. It's a hard place to work.
Back here in early research we don't see the patients, of course (which is good, since I'm pretty sure I couldn't take it). But we also have the same narrow path to walk: most of the compounds we make aren't drug candidates. Most of the drug candidates we send on for development fail. But the answer to that is not to stop making drug candidates, because every so often, something works.
Comments (16)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cancer | Clinical Trials
February 3, 2010
Posted by Derek
Dimebon (dimebolin) is a perfect example of the black-box nature of drug research for the central nervous system. Any medicinal chemist who looks at its structure would immediately say "CNS", but shrug when asked what specific receptors it might hit. I'd have guessed histamine (correctly), since loratidine used to pay my salary, and I also would have guessed a clutch of 5-HT stuff as well. But it also has activity at AMPA and NMDA glutamate receptors, L-type calcium channels, and more. If you can tell me what it's really doing up there, you shouldn't bother: hang up on me and start calling people with money, because you're ready to take over the CNS therapeutic area for sure.
This blunderbuss is getting a lot of attention these days, since the data for a Phase III trial against Alzheimer's should be available sometime in the spring. The road to that was a strange one. Dimebolin was used for years as an antihistamine in Russia, although I'm not aware if it had any particular reputation for cognitive enhancement in its time as a Soviet allergy pill. It was picked up in screening done during the 1990s at a research institute in the (once secret) military/industrial research city of Chemogolovka Chernogolovka, about two hours from Moscow. It showed effects on learning in rodent models, and gradually advanced to human trials for Alzheimer's. Impressive data came out in 2008, and Medivation, who own the rights to it here, partnered with Pfizer for development.
Update: the city mentioned above is surely Chernogolovka, but it's interesting that it's appeared many times as Chemogolovka in the English press and literature. I chalk that up to the "rn" looking very much like an "m", and to the mistaken name being semi-plausible in a Stalinist-industrial way, as witness Magnitogorsk. Chernogolovka's much older, though.)
That Bloomberg report I linked to above has a lot of people excited, since there hasn't been a new therapy for Alzheimer's in quite a while (or, arguably, a decent one ever). I don't know what to think, myself. It's absolutely possible that the drug could turn out to have beneficial effects, but it's just as possible that it could miss meeting the high expectations that many investors seem to have for it. (Medivation's stock is up 80% over the last year, for example). A lot of eye-catching numbers from small Phase II trials tend to flatten out in the wider world of Phase III, and if forced, that's the way I'd bet here. (I am most definitely not giving investment advice, though - Alzheimer's drug development is a total crap shoot, and should only be approached with money you can afford to see incinerated).
I hope that Dimebon actually works, though - the world could use something that does. Just don't let anyone convince you that they know how it works, if it makes it through. Unraveling that will take quite a while. . .
Comments (10)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Alzheimer's Disease | Clinical Trials | The Central Nervous System
January 20, 2010
Posted by Derek
There's probably a lot of undiscovered information sitting out there in clinical trial data sets. And while I was just worrying the other day about people with no statistical background digging through such things, I have to give equal time to the flip side: having many different competent observers taking a crack at these numbers would, in fact, be a good thing.
Here's one effort of that sort, as detailed in Molecular Systems Biology. The authors have set up a database of all the side-effect information released through package inserts of approved drugs, which was much more of a pain than it sounds like, since the format of this information isn't standardized.
Looking over their data, the drugs with the highest number of side effects are the central nervous system agents, which makes sense. Many of these are polypharmacological; I'm almost surprised they aren't even worse by a wider margin. Antiparasitics have the fewest side effects (possibly because some of these don't even have to be absorbed?), followed by "systemic hormonal preparations". To be fair, the CNS category has the largest number of drugs in it, and those other two have the least, so this may be just a sampling problem. At a glance, one category that seems to have a disproportionate number of side effects, compared its number of approved drugs, is the "genitourinary/sex hormone" class, with muskoskeletal agents also making a stronger showing than their numbers might indicate.
Comments (15)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Toxicology
January 18, 2010
Posted by Derek
Anyone looking over large data sets from human studies needs to be constantly on guard. Sinkholes are everywhere, many of them looking (at first glance) like perfectly solid ground on which to build some conclusions. This, to be honest, is one of the real problems with full release of clinical trial data sets: if you're not really up on your statistics, you can convince yourself of some pretty strange stuff.
Even people who are supposed to know what they're doing can bungle things. For instance, you may well have noticed a lot of papers coming out in the last few years correlating neuroimaging studies (such as fMRI) with human behaviors and personality traits. Neuroimaging is a wonderfully wide-open, complex, and important field, and I don't blame people for a minute for pushing it as far as it can go. But just how far is that?
A recent paper (PDF) suggests that the conclusions have run well ahead of the numbers. Recent papers have been reporting impressive correlations between the activation of particular brain regions and associated behaviors and traits. But when you look at the reproducibility of the behavioral measurements themselves, the correlation is 0.8 at best. And the reproducibility of the blood-oxygen fMRI measurements is about 0.7. The highest possible correlation you could expect from those two is the square root of their product, or 0.74. Problem is. . .a number of papers, including ones that get the big press, show correlations much higher than that. Which is impossible.
The Neurocritic blog has more details on this. What seems to have happened is that many researchers found signals in their patients that correlated with the behavior that they were studying, and then used that same set of data to compute the correlations between the subjects. I find, by watching people go by the in the street, that I can pick out a set of people who wear bright red jackets and have ugly haircuts. Herding them together and rating them on the redness of their attire and the heinousness of their hair, I find a notably strong correlation! Clearly, there is an underlying fashion deficiency that leads to both behaviors. Or people had their hair in their eyes when they bought their clothes. Further studies are indicated.
No, you can't do it like that. A selection error of that sort could let you relate anything to anything. The authors of the paper (Edward Vul and Nancy Kanwisher of MIT) have done the field a great favor by pointing this out. You can read how the field is taking the advice here.
Comments (13)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Biological News | Clinical Trials | The Central Nervous System
January 15, 2010
Posted by Derek
So, after reading what Pfizer has to say about Sirtris (and by extension, about GlaxoSmithKline's heavy investment in them), let's go over the possibilities. What happened, and what's going on?
We'll start out with the first branch point: either Pfizer (and Amgen) are right that there's trouble with the Sirtris assays and compounds (Reality A, I'll call it), or they're wrong (Reality B). For the rest of this piece, I'm going to assume that they're right, because I think that this is almost certainly the case. At least two separate groups of competent investigators have reported trouble, and that's good enough for me. (We'll discuss the implications of that in a bit).
Now we come to the second branch point: either Glaxo did enough due diligence to be aware of the problems (scenario A1) or they didn't realize them at the time of the deal (scenario A2). If A1 is the case, then we'd have to assume that the most likely consequence (A1a) is that Sirtris had other non-public assets that did check out, and that GSK's management felt that these justified the purchase. (A1b would be the scenario where GSK was well aware of the Sirtris problems, knew also that they didn't have anything else to offer, and bought them anyway, which doesn't make sense). These assets could have been other compounds, and/or a leg up on the complicated biology of this field. The difficulty with that line of thinking is that having found the fundamental assay problems with the Sirtris work, the GSK people would surely have been much more cautious about drawing sweeping conclusions about the rest of the company's intellectual property.
If A2 is the case, then we're looking at sheer fecklessness on the part of GSK's upper management. I'd like to be able to rule this out, but there have been other deals in the history of this industry that make that hard to do. I have witnessed at least one such personally. One problem is that these deals tend to be initiated near the highest levels of a company, and these people are not always the most technically savvy (or up-to-date) members of an organization. Even with a science background, the CEO of a large company does not have the time to be a scientist. (I'm reminded of Peter O'Toole's character in My Favorite Year: "I'm not an actor - I'm a movie star!"
Overall, though, I find it hard to believe that no one would have noticed the reported problems at all, which leads me to favor what I'll call scenario A3: the problems with the Sirtris assays may well have been known/realized at the lower scientific levels of GSK's organization, but these concerns may not have made it to the top in a sufficiently timely or vigorous manner. The deal would have gone through under its own momentum, then, in a flurry of last-minute misgivings which would have been hard to distinguish from the usual butterflies that accompany any large transaction or the preliminary stirrings of buyer's remorse. The sorts of reasons advanced in the A1 paragraph above would have been used to justify pushing ahead. With that in mind, this scenario could be broken down further into A3a, where Sirtris also had some other assets that the rest of us haven't seen, and A3b, where they didn't. I think that A3a is more likely, since that would have provided some of the momentum to get the deal done regardless. A3b is basically A2 with different timing and slightly less cluelessness.
So where do things go from here? That obviously depends on which of those three realities obtains. If A1 (specifically A1a) is the case, then GSK plows ahead with their secret Sirtris assets and compounds, and good luck to all concerned. It's worth keeping in mind that sirtuins are quite interesting and important, and that it's an area worth investigating on its own merits. (Pfizer and Amgen, among others, must think so too; that's the only reason that they would have been trying to replicate the Sirtris work).
If A2 is the real story, well, I'm very sorry to hear it. A lot of people seem ready to believe this one, partly because of anger over the layoffs the company has been going through. The most likely consequence of A2 is that $720 million dollars disappears, never to yield anything that's of use to anyone, so I hope that this isn't what happened.
And if, as I think, A3 is what actually happened, then that sort of depends on whether we're looking at A3a or A3b. If the former, then Glaxo overpaid, but has a fighting chance to redeem itself. If the latter, then Glaxo not only overpaid, but (as with A2) is in danger of losing its whole investment as well. We'll all find out.
But we may not find out very quickly. GSK has (like many other companies) a tendency to be rather close-mouthed about the progress of some of its research. When I worked in the nuclear receptor field, we all were very interested in the fate of a particular Glaxo compound, the first selective PPAR-delta ligand to go into the clinic. The company had talked about some animal and preclinical data, but we knew that they were taking it into humans (after all, it was listed that way in their pipeline updates). But it stayed listed like that. . .and stayed. . .and stayed. . .until, as the months and years passed, it became obvious to even the most optimistic observer that the compound's development was (at the very least) extremely complicated, and (more likely) had actually quietly ceased a good while before, albeit with no change in its public status.
In this case, now that these doubts have come up, GSK has a real interest in pointing out any success it may have. If its sirtuin compounds go into the clinic and just sort of hang there, that will probably be an even worse sign than usual. And if no sirtuin compounds even go into the clinic at all, well, the question has answered itself. I hope that's not what happens.
Comments (61)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Aging and Lifespan | Clinical Trials | Diabetes and Obesity | Drug Development
January 6, 2010
Posted by Derek
Yesterday's Wall Street Journal ran a story on Eli Lilly, all about how the company is outsourcing a lot of their drug development work. Since Lilly signed a big deal with Covance in 2008 to do just that sort of thing, the first thing you have to wonder is "Is this news?"
But some of the spin in this piece is interesting. Here, see what you think:
Not long ago, a big pharmaceutical company wouldn't have considered farming out the development of a compound found in-house. But expiring patents on top-selling drugs and high-profile failures in finding their replacements have pushed the biggest drug makers to "externalize" much of their R&D, said Peter Tollman, who advises drug makers at Boston Consulting Group. . .
. . .Lilly is relying on outside firms called contract research organizations to do the work. Company researchers, Mr. Tollman said, can get too attached to their own compounds to know when to let them go.
I'm not buying that last part at all. To me, the main reason that Lilly has been using CROs so much (through an R&D unit named Chorus) is that they feel that they can do the job more cheaply. The next most important reasons after that one are (1) that they can do the job for less money, (2) that they can do the job without Lilly spending so much cash, and (3) that they can do the job at lower cost. Have I left anything out?
As a correspondent put it, once you get into the clinic, "the data are the data", whether you're attached to the compound or not. The bigger danger is in how you set up the trials in the first place, whether you've done them in a realistic fashion, and a CRO can fall victim to that just as much as anyone else can. The same incentives are there to fool yourself. So I don't see any special magic in outsourcing clinical work, other than the fact that CROs tend to work their people harder and pay them less money.
To be fair, the rest of the article does show the flip side:
Skeptics say such results may cut R&D costs, but don't address big pharma's main problem of finding new therapies that pan out.
"You get more negative results faster and cheaper," said James Niedel, a former GlaxoSmithKline executive who is now a partner at New Leaf Venture Partners fund. "But the problem with the industry is they're not getting enough positive results and that depends on knowledge and insight about biology and disease" that might be lacking among CROs. . ."Neither the cost cuts nor the structural changes help R&D productivity," said Keyur Parekh, a UBS analyst who thinks Lilly might need to make acquisitions to replenish its pipeline.
Indeed. It's important not to spend money where you don't have to, but it's also important to have things to spend the money on in the first place.
Comments (31)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Press Coverage
December 23, 2009
Posted by Derek
Another interesting approach to Alzheimer's therapy has just taken a severe jolt in the clinic. Elan and Transition Therapeutics were investigating ELEND005, also known as AZD-103, which was targeted at breaking down amyloid fibrils and allowing the protein to be cleared from the brain.
Unfortunately, the two highest-dose patient groups experienced a much greater number of severe events - including nine deaths, which is about as severe as things get - and those doses have been dropped from the study. I'm actually rather surprised that the trial is going on at all, but the safety data for the lowest dose (250mg twice daily) appear to justify continuing. The higher doses were 1g and 2g b.i.d., and the fact that they were going up that high makes me think that the chances of success at the lowest dose may not be very good.
So what is this drug? Oddly enough, it's one of the inositols, the scyllo isomer. Several animal studies had shown improvements with this compound, and there were promising results for Parkinson's as well. At the same time, scyllo-inositol has been implicated as a marker of CNS pathology when it's found naturally, so it's clearly hard to say just what's going on. As it always is with the brain. . .
Comments (18)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Alzheimer's Disease | Clinical Trials | The Central Nervous System | Toxicology
December 3, 2009
Posted by Derek
Continuing Education (CE) is a big issue in many medical fields and those associated with them. Licensing boards and professional societies often require proof that people are keeping up with current developments and best practices, which is a worthy goal even if arguments develop over how well these systems work.
And it's also been a battleground for fights over commercial conflicts of interest. On the one hand, no one needs a situation where a room full of practitioners sits down to a blatant sales pitch that nonetheless counts as continuing education. But one the other hand, you have the problem that's now developing thanks to new policies by the Accreditation Council for Continuing Medical Education (ACCME) and the Accreditation Council for Pharmacy Education (ACPE). Thanks to a reader, I'm reproducing below some key parts of a letter that one professional organization, the American Society for Clinical Pharmacology and Therapeutics, has recently sent out to its members:
In 2006, ACCME and ACPE adopted new accreditation policies that went into effect in January 2009. Most concerning of these new policies is the requirement that CE providers develop activities/education interventions independent of any commercial interest, including presentation by industry scientists. This requirement greatly impacts the Society as industry scientists constitute nearly 50% of our membership and contribute significantly to the scientific programming of the ASCPT Annual Meeting. . .
ASCPT has been left with two options: 1) stop providing CE credit and continue to involve scientists from industry in the scientific program of the Annual Meeting; or 2) continue providing CE credit and remove all industry scientists from the program and planning process. . .
They go on to say that this year's meeting, having already been planned in the presence of Evil Industry Contaminators (well, they don't quite say it like that), will have no CE component, and that they don't see how they'll be able to have any such in the future, since they can't very well keep half the membership from presenting their work. This is definitely a problem for a number of professional organization, particularly the ones that deal with clinical research. They intersect with the professions that tend to have continuing education requirements, but a significant part of the expertise in their fields is found in industry. The ASCPT is not the only society facing this same dilemma.
It looks as if the accreditation groups decided that they were faced with a choice: commit themselves to judging what sorts of presentations should count for CE credit (which you might think was their job), or just toss out anything that has any connection with industry. That way you can look virtuous and save time, too. My apologies if I'm descending into ridicule here, but as an industrial scientist I find myself resenting the implication that my hands (and those of every single one of my colleagues) are automatically considered too dirty to educate any practicing professionals.
To be fair, this could well be one of those situations that the industry has helped bring on itself. I've no doubt that the CME process has probably been abused in the past. (Update: see the comments section. Am I being too delicate in this phrasing? Probably comes from never having dealt much with the marketing side of the business. . .) But there has to be some way to distinguish the old-fashioned "golf-resort meeting" from a clinical pharmacologist delivering a paper on new protocols for trial designs. The last thing we need is to split the scientific community even more than it's split already.
Comments (14)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Academia (vs. Industry) | Clinical Trials | Drug Development
November 19, 2009
Posted by Derek
The InVivo Blog has a good article on a controversy in the blood-thinning market. Plavix (clopidogrel) has a very strong share of that, of course, but since Effient (prasugrel) was finally approved, Lilly and Dai-Ichii are looking to take as much of that market as they can. And one opening might be that not everyone responds similarly to Plavix.
In some cases, that's because there are some drug-drug interactions, a problem the FDA has recently addressed. The proton pump inhibitors, especially, are metabolized through the CYP2C19 pathway. That's a problem, since that enzyme is needed to convert clopidogrel into its active form (Plavix, as it comes out of the pill, is a prodrug - its thiophene ring needs to get torn open). This sort of thing has been seen many times before - it's one of the many headaches that you can endure in drug development as you profile the metabolizing pathways for your drug candidate and compare them to the other compounds your patient population might be taking. There are some combinations that just will not work (several involving CYP3A4, which is often the first one you test for), and it looks like we can add Plavix/2C19 to the list.
But the population genetics of the 2C19 enzyme are rather heterogeneous. About a third of the patients taking Plavix have a less-active form of the enzyme to start with, and they might not respond as robustly to the drug. The FDA has emphasized this effect in its latest public health warning. That's an opportunity for Effient, since it doesn't go through that metabolic route.
The In Vivo people point out, though, that this story isn't being driven by the usual players. It's not the FDA that's pushed to find this out, and it's not even Eli Lilly. It's Medco and Aetna. They studied their insurance claims data to see if the numbers supported the proton pump inhibitor/Plavix interaction, found that they did, and publicized their findings - and that led to an actual observational trial from BMS and Sanofi, which confirmed the problem. Now Medco is going further, and is actually running its own observational study comparing Plavix and Effient. Their theory is that the efficacy that Lilly showed compared to Plavix was driven by the (deliberate, one assumes) inclusion of a high number of poor metabolizers.
Medco is getting ready for generic Plavix, and trying to keep its costs down by making the case that the drug will do the job just fine for most patients. They could, on the other hand, end up making the case for Effient in that poor-metabolizing third of the patients, which would also be interesting. Lilly would presumably settle for that, although they'd like even more of the market if they can get it, naturally.
And I have to say: I like this sort of thing. I like it a lot. This, to me, is how the system should work. Companies are pursuing their own competing interests, but in the end, we get a higher standard of care by finding out which drug really works for which patients. The motivation to do all this? Money, of course, earning it and saving it. This may sound crass, but I think that's a reliable, proven method to motivate people and companies, one that works even better than depending on their best impulses. You could even build an economic system around such effects, with some attention to channeling these impulses in ways that benefit the greatest number of people. Worth a try.
Comments (22)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials | Regulatory Affairs
November 16, 2009
Posted by Derek
Over the weekend, the results in a small cardiovascular trial came out that compared Merck's Zetia (ezetimibe/simvastatin) (correction - ezetimibe alone) against Abbott's Niaspan (time-release niacin). Niacin's an underappreciated therapy in the field - it has tolerability problems, mainly irritating and uncomfortable hot flushing, but it really does seem to help normalize lipid numbers. (And that's why Merck itself, among others, have taken cracks at the market).
This latest trial was a small one, but people have been starved for data on Zetia ever since it took a surprising hit (in the ENHANCE trial) suggesting that it might not be very efficacious. There's an ongoing larger trial that should answer this question once and for all, but those numbers won't be showing up for another two years. For now, anything that can help clarify what's going on is of great interest to Merck, its investors, and to cardiologists and their patients.
And Matthew Herper at Forbes is right: these latest numbers are disastrous. The study (funded by Abbott) isn't the greatest piece of clinical research in the world - it didn't study nearly as many patients as it was designed to, since it was halted early. (Here it is in the NEJM). But it still shows Niaspan as clearly superior to Zetia, and it makes a person wonder if taking Zetia is basically an expensive way to take a possibly-inadequate dose of simvastatin. In a way, the relatively small size of the study actually helps it a bit - getting numbers that definitive without having to go to much larger sample sizes isn't so easy in cardiovascular trials, so the feeling is that there much be something here.
As Herper's article details, Merck is trying to spin this as a big win for their competition, not a big loss for their own drug. But that comes close to being logically impossible: cholesterol lowering, like many other therapeutic areas, is nearly a zero-sum game. If patients take Niaspan (or any other competing drug), they're not going to be taking Zetia. This one was certainly a victory for Abbott (and generic niacin, for those who can take it), but it was a loss for Merck as well.
The FDA's not coming out of all this looking very good, either:
"How is it possible for a drug to have $4 billion in sales without any evidence of benefit?" says Harlan Krumholz, a cardiologist at Yale University. He said that the small size of the two imaging studies mean they couldn't render a clear verdict on Zetia. "But they don't instill any confidence in it either. " Douglas Weaver, head of cardiology at the Henry Ford Hospital in Detroit says: "We've used Zetia without sufficient amounts of clinical data to support it. Using it may be right, it may be wrong, but we don't know right now."
But it's worth remembering that Zetia's mode of action made perfect sense, and that it really does lower cholesterol to what you'd think would be a very beneficial degree. But it probably has several other effects beyond simple LDL lowering, and just looking at that number is clearly (in hindsight) not enough of a clinical surrogate marker. As the study authors put it:
If viewed properly, this hypothesis-generating finding is not an indictment of the overall importance of reducing LDL cholesterol for the purpose of preventing cardiovascular events, as illustrated by therapies based on statins or nonstatins (e.g., bile acid sequestrants). Rather, this adverse relationship may be attributable to the net effect of ezetimibe, a drug with diverse actions, not all of which are measured through its effects on intestinal cholesterol absorption and LDL cholesterol level. Taken together with a preexisting concern regarding the clinical effectiveness of ezetimibe, our findings challenge the usefulness of LDL cholesterol reduction as a guaranteed surrogate of clinical efficacy, particularly reduction achieved through the use of novel clinical compounds.
But as I recall, statins themselves were first approved based largely on lowered LDL, with better outcome data only showing up later. In that case, the surrogate marker paid off, but not this time. What all this is telling us, then, is that we don't know nearly as much about cholesterol and cardiology as we thought we did. And if we don't understand that area well enough, after all these years and all this effort, what parts of medicine do we really understand?
Comments (31)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials
November 12, 2009
Posted by Derek
There's a disturbing article out at the New England Journal of Medicine on studies conducted on Neurontin (gabapentin) for various unapproved indications. Parke-Davis (and later Pfizer) looked at a wide range of possible indications for the drug - migraine, neuropathic pain, bipolar disorder, and more. That in itself isn't unusual, since CNS drugs often have rather broad and poorly defined mechanisms, and it's not like we understand any of them all that well.
What is unusual is the pattern found when comparing the internal reports with the published versions that showed up in the literature. The authors found that:
"More than half the clinical trials that we included in our analysis (11 of 20) were not published as full-length research articles. For 7 of the 9 trials that were published as full-length research articles, a statistically significant primary outcome was reported, and for more than half these trials, the outcome specified in the published report differed from the outcome originally described in the protocol. Three of the four trials with an unchanged primary outcome had statistically significant results for the protocol-specified primary outcome. Secondary outcomes also frequently differed between the protocol and the published report. Thus, trials with findings that were not statistically significant (P≥0.05) for the protocol-defined primary outcome, according to the internal documents, either were not published in full or were published with a changed primary outcome. . .all the changes that took place between what was specified in the protocol, what was known before publication (as presented in the internal company research reports), and what was reported to the public led to a more favorable presentation in the medical literature. . ."
The authors go on to point out that changing a primary outcome after you see the data is, in fact, a statistical sin (although that's not quite the phrase they use!) You really can't go around doing that, because you can end up chasing after random chance (and avoiding that is the whole point of running well-controlled trials). This does not cover Pfizer and Parke-Davis with glory, but it's worth noting that there's plenty of blame to go around when it comes to this practice:
"Our study is based on a relatively small number of trials undertaken to test a single drug manufactured by a single company and its successors. Furthermore, if a major purpose of the studies we examined was to promote off-label uses of gabapentin, the selective reporting we observed could be more extreme than that observed for studies conducted for other reasons. Previous studies in different settings have shown evidence of these same biases, however. Indeed, selective outcome reporting does not appear to be limited to studies funded by drug companies. Chan and colleagues examined published trials funded by the Canadian Institutes of Health Research and found that 40% of stated primary outcomes differed between the protocol and the published report. In addition, we cannot be certain that selective reporting was a decision made by employees of Pfizer and Parke-Davis, since the authors of the published reports included nonemployees. We did not systematically assess the methodologic quality of the included trials as described in the publications we examined. Previous research has indicated that quality scores are higher for trials conducted by the pharmaceutical industry than for trials conducted by not-for-profit entities, although reports from industry-sponsored trials have potentially distorted the scientific record because of other, less easily measured study factors."
That doesn't get the folks who conducted these gabapentin studies off the hook, although I should note that Pfizer disputes the conclusions of this article (as you'd certainly think that they would). And it's also worth noting that some of its authors have done work for the plaintiffs in suits against Pfizer over gabapentin (thus all the familiarity with the internal company documents, which came to light during discovery proceedings). But again, I don't see how that negates the paper's conclusions, and if Pfizer has any hard data that would do so, I think they should produce it with all speed.
And no, it's just a coincidence that this post involve Pfizer, after I've been going on about their merger business all week. Unfortunately, I think that they're probably not the only company that could be pointed at. But we in the industry shouldn't have things like this for others to uncover in the first place. Should we?
Comments (12)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | The Central Nervous System | The Dark Side | The Scientific Literature
October 2, 2009
Posted by Derek
There's been a lot of valuable research into the placebo effect in recent years. That has interest in and of itself, and it also has a practical side. Understanding how people feel better on their own could tell us more about how to make our actual drugs work better, and it could also help us design clinical trials more efficiently. It would be a great help to know accurately how much of a positive effect is due to an investigational drug, without having to run thousands of people to separate that out statistically from a robust (but highly variable) placebo effect.
A new paper in the journal Pain (which has always gotten my vote for "Most To-the-Point Journal Title Possible") sheds some light on this issue, and on the mirror image "nocebo effect". The authors have looked over trials of several migraine drugs. In each case, there was a study arm and a placebo arm, and (since no one knew which group they were in), every patient got the lecture about possible side effects if you were in the treatment group.
The key point is that the migraine trials were investigating three different classes of drugs (anti-inflammatories, triptans, and anticonvulsants), and these three, not surprisingly, have different sets of possible side effects. The patients taking the drugs certainly manifested some of these, but what about the placebo groups?
Well, the placebo groups in the anti-inflammatory trials reported more dry mouth, nausea and vomiting than the placebo arms of the triptan studies. The placebo patients in the anticonvulsant trials, though, had a higher incidence of fatigue, sleepiness, and dizziness than the anti-inflammatory placebo groups reported. In short:
We found specific side effects in the placebo arms of anti-migraine trials when analyzing the three groups of drugs. We observed that the side effects that are expected for the active drug against which the placebo is compared, are also more frequent in the placebo group. In particular, anticonvulsant-placebos appear to have a higher rate of AEs (adverse events) than the other two classes of anti-migraine drugs. . .
. . .Moreover, it is also important to note that a larger number of patients in the anticonvulsant-placebo group discontinued the study (withdrawals due to AEs) than those in the triptan-placebo and NSAID-placebo groups. Both patients’ and experimenters’ expectations may have affected the AEs occurrence in the placebo groups. . .
This sort of thing has been observed before, but this is a particularly neat example. As a researcher (or a patient), it's important to remember that we tend to get what we think we're going to get. And we need to be aware of that, and be ready to correct for it if we have to.
Comments (28)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials | The Central Nervous System
August 24, 2009
Posted by Derek
Eli Lilly announced some bad news last week when they dropped arzoxifene, a once-promising osteoporosis treatment (and successor to Evista (raloxifene), which has been one of the company's big successes).
If this drug had been found ten or fifteen years ago, it might have made it though. But the trial data showed that while it made its primary endpoints (reducing vertebral fractures, for example), it missed several secondary ones (such as, well, non-vertebral fractures). And the side effect profile wasn't good, either. That combination meant that the drug was going to face at hard time at the FDA for starters, and even if it somehow got through, it would face a hard time competing with generic Fosamax (and Lilly's own Evista).
So down it went, and it sound like the right decision to make. Unfortunately, given the complexities of estrogen receptor signaling, the clinic is the only place that you can find out about such things. And there are no short, inexpensive clinical trials in osteoporosis, so the company had to run one of the big, expensive ones only to find out that arzoxifene didn't quite measure up. That's why this is a territory for the deep-pocketed, or (at the very least) for those who hope to do a deal with them at the first opportunity.
One more point is worth emphasizing. Take a look at the structures of the two compounds (from those Wikipedia links in the first paragraph). Pretty darn similar, aren't they? Arzoxifene is clearly a follow-up drug in every way - modified a bit here and there, but absolutely in the same family. A "me-too" drug, in other words, an attempt to come up with something that works similarly but sands off some of the rough edges of the previous compound. But anyone who thinks that development of a follow-up compound is easy - and a lot of people outside the industry do - should consider what happened to this one.
Comments (14)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: "Me Too" Drugs | Clinical Trials | Drug Development | Toxicology
August 4, 2009
Posted by Derek
Now, while we've been talking about how much basic research is done in industry, or how much clinical research gets done in academia, here's something that might bear on the discussion. Too much of what looks like useful clinical research on the academic side is actually wasted effort. The New York Times has been running a series called "The Forty Year War", looking at the history of the "War on Cancer", and the latest installment is on clinical trials.
It's been a problem for some time now that there aren't enough patients to go around for many cancer trials. Breast cancer is an especially problematic area, last I heard. It's high-profile, fairly high-incidence, and a lot of investigational anticancer agents are lined up to take a whack at it. So many, in fact, that there aren't enough breast cancer patients available in the US, nowhere near, and the same situation obtains in a number of other areas.
Much of this problem comes from low recruitment rates. As the Times article makes clear, only three per cent of adult cancer patients are enrolled in any kind of trial at all. Many cancer patients want to stick with the best therapy that's currently known, and don't want to add any uncertainty to what they're already dealing with. It's hard to blame them, but that does make the state of the art advance more slowly.
Another factor that may come as a surprise is that many oncology practices find that they lose money by participating in trials. The reimbursement-to-paperwork ratio doesn't always come out very well, especially for centers that don't do a lot of clinical research and haven't been able to streamline the process as much as possible. When they look at the number of patients that they can serve, given the time that's taken up, the trials start to make less sense.
Finally, and this is the least excusable factor on the list, there are many trials that really shouldn't be run at all. The Times does work in a line about how some studies by drug companies are just "designed to persuade doctors to use their drugs." My take on that is that these studies usually are designed to do that by showing that their drug actually works better, which is not such a bad thing. But note this other problem:
There are more than 6,500 cancer clinical trials seeking adult patients, according to clinicaltrials.gov, a trials registry. But many will be abandoned along the way. More than one trial in five sponsored by the National Cancer Institute failed to enroll a single subject, and only half reached the minimum needed for a meaningful result, Dr. Ramsey and his colleague John Scoggins reported in a recent review in The Oncologist.
Even worse, many that do get under way are pretty much useless, even as they suck up the few patients willing to participate. These trials tend to be small ones, at single medical centers. They may be aimed at polishing a doctor’s résumé or making a center seem at the vanguard of cancer care. But they are designed only to be “exploratory,” meaning that there are too few patients to draw conclusions or that their design is less than rigorous.
“Unfortunately, many patients who are well intentioned are in trials that really don’t advance the field very much,” said Dr. Richard Schilsky, an oncologist at the University of Chicago and immediate past president of the American Society of Clinical Oncology.
I don't want to dump a bucket of tar on all academic and publicly funded clinical research, because there's a lot of good stuff that goes on as well. (And remember, the publicly basic research is very valuable indeed). But the next time someone tells you about the number of clinical trials run outside of the drug industry, you might want to keep those above figures in mind.
Not all trials are created equal, not by a long shot. But the ones that we run in industry, from what I can see, tend to have a better chance of relevance. That's partly because we're spending our own money on them, and with a goal of finding drugs that people will spend money on in turn. It focuses one's efforts. It's not like we never waste money in this business, but I'm very much willing to bet that we waste it less often than happens with public funds. Companies trying to get an agent through the clinic tend not to set up meaningless trials just to make everyone's resume look better. That I can tell you.
Comments (24)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Academia (vs. Industry) | Cancer | Clinical Trials
July 20, 2009
Posted by Derek
Here's an interesting look at the current state of the Alzheimer's field from Bloomberg. The current big hope is Wyeth (and Elan)'s bapineuzumab, which I last wrote about here. That was after the companies reported what had to be considered less-than-hoped-for efficacy in the clinic. The current trial is the one sorted out by APOE4 status of the patients. After the earlier trial data, it seems unlikely that there's going to be a robust effect across the board - the people with the APOE4 mutation are probably the best hope for seeing real efficacy.
And if bapineuzumab doesn't turn out to work even for them? Well:
“Everyone is waiting with bated breath on bapineuzumab,” said Michael Gold, London-based Glaxo’s vice president of neurosciences, in an interview. “If that one fails, then everyone will say we have to rethink the amyloid hypothesis.”
Now that will be a painful process, but it's one that may well already have begun. beta-Amyloid has been the front-runner for. . .well, for decades now, to be honest. And it's been a target for drug companies since around the late 1980s/early 1990s, as it became clear that it was produced by proteolytic cleavage from a larger precursor protein. A vast amount of time, effort, and money have gone into trying to find something that will interrupt that process, and it's going to be rather hard to take if we find out that we've been chasing a symptom of Alzheimer's rather than a cause.
But there's really no other way to find such things out. Human beings are the only animals that really seem to get Alzheimer's, and that's made it a ferocious therapeutic area to work in. The amyloid hypothesis will die hard if die it does.
Comments (21)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Alzheimer's Disease | Clinical Trials | Drug Industry History | The Central Nervous System
June 23, 2009
Posted by Derek
What's really going on with Medarex and ipilimumab? The company made news over the weekend with a press release from the Mayo Clinic, detailed what appears to be a substantial response in two prostate cancer patients. But the more you look at the story, the harder it is to figure out anything useful.
As this WebMD piece makes clear, this study is not a trial of ipilimumab as a single agent. The patients are undergoing prolonged androgen ablation, the testosterone-suppressing therapy that's been around for many years and is one of the standard options for prostate cancer. The trial is to see if ipilimumab has any benefit when it's added to this protocol - basically, to see if it can advance the standard of care a bit.
WebMD quotes Derek Raghavan at the Cleveland Clinic as saying that androgen ablation can sometimes have dramatic results in patients with locally advanced prostate cancer, so it's impossible to say if ipilimumab is helping or not. That's why we run clinical trials, you know, to see if there's a real effect across a meaningful number of patients. But (as this AP story notes) we don't know how many patients are in this particular study, what its endpoints are, or really anything about its design. All we know is that two patients opted out of it for surgery instead. (Credit goes to the AP's Linda Johnson for laying all this out).
Ipilimumab is an antibody against CTLA-4, which is an inhibitory regulator of lymphocytes. Blocking it should, in theory, turn these cells loose to engage tumor cells more robustly. (It also turns them loose to engage normal tissue more robustly, too - most of the side effects seem to be autoimmune responses like colitis, which can be very severe. The antibody has been studied most thoroughly in melanoma, where it does seem to be of value, although the side effect profile is certainly complicating things.
So overall, I think it's way too early to conclude that Medarex has hit on some miracle prostate cure. This press release, in fact, hasn't been too helpful at all, and the Mayo people really should know better.
Comments (34)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Drug Development | Press Coverage | Toxicology
June 9, 2009
Posted by Derek
Here's a fascinating (and alarming) look at the clinical data from the recent trial of Avastin (bevacizumab) in adjuvant colorectal cancer (that is, post-surgical therapy). This was an issue in the recent Roche/Genentech takeover, since it could significantly enlarge the market for the drug. According to the In Vivo Blog, the one-year interim look at the data (adding Avastin to the standard chemotherapy regimen) was nearly good enough to stop the trial early. There were 2,710 patients enrolled, and an additional six events would have pushed things over the top, statistically.
The trial went on, though, with two more years of standard therapy as follow-up. But by the (pre-set) three-year endpoint it turned out that there was no eventual real benefit to adding Avastin back in that first year. So what's the story? Is it that you need to keep giving the combination regime? Would those-one year results have held up? Or is this just a case of real long-term survival numbers wiping out what seems to be a promising short-term result?
It looks like Genentech may be gearing up to put that first theory to a test, and I wish them luck. Long-term tolerability will be an issue, and long-term cost will be a big one, too. They're going to have to show some pretty impressive numbers to overcome those two concerns. . .as impressive as, well, as those first-year interim ones they had. Will that effect dissipate or not?
Time and money will answer that little question. But for now, consider what would have happened if a few more patients had shown disease-free survival in time for that interim analysis. The trial would have been stopped early, all kinds of people would have gone on Avastin for their first year of adjuvant therapy. . .and this year we would have seen that it was apparently doing no good at all, at least in the take-it-for-a-year-and-stop mode. Clinical trial design: a real high-wire act.
Comments (9)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cancer | Clinical Trials
June 8, 2009
Posted by Derek
There is no good way to spin a Phase III failure. By then you've made it past the main reasons for a drug to wipe out (PK and total mechanistic failure). A breakdown at this stage is a more subtle affair (well, except for the money involved, which is not subtle at all). For example, a drug might show efficacy in a carefully constructed Phase II trial, but can't perform under the wider (and more realistic) conditions of Phase III.
That's what appears to have happened to Merck's MK-7418 (rolofylline, formerly KW-3902). This adenosine A1 antagonist, which Merck picked up by buying NovaCardia a couple of years ago, was being developed for acute heart failure. That's a tough indication, and this isn't going to improve that reputation. (This Forbes piece has a tour of the pile of discards that this area has become over the years. Rolofylline looked as if it might work in Phase II, but (from what I can tell from the press releases) missed every endpoint in Phase III.
On a chemical note, rolofylline is a rather odd-looking molecule. You don't see many noradamantanes hanging off of drug structures. I'm sure this wasn't the reason for the compound's failure (after all, it made it through Phase I and Phase II), but it's sure not something I have on my list of structural fragments to try.
Comments (14)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials
June 4, 2009
Posted by Derek
Here's an interesting situation for you: according to IguanaBio, a shareholder lawsuit over the failed Vytorin ENHANCE clinical trial (that's caused Schering-Plough and Merck so much grief) is going to use posts on CafePharma as evidence.
That will be worth watching. CafePharma's message boards have been described (accurately, I'd say) as often being the electronic equivalent of a bathroom wall. There's good information in there, but the signal/noise ratio is abysmal due to the number of ticked-off people who go there to vent. There do appear to have been some posts suggesting strongly that the ENHANCE data were grim, and who knows? They could have been speaking from real knowledge. But there's no way to be sure - and for every post that turns out to be prophetic, there are ten that are totally wrong.
So I'm surprised that these are going to be considered admissable. Anyone investing on the basis of CafePharma board chatter deserves to lose their money - which will go out in brokerage commission fees, if nothing else. Let's see how this plays in court. . .
Comments (8)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Business and Markets | Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials | Drug Industry History
June 1, 2009
Posted by Derek
Well, the ASCO meeting has been roaring along, with dozens of press releases coming out. (Go to Google News and type that acronym in if you want to get the full experience). They range from the pretty-interesting to the despair-inducing, but one bit of news struck me as particularly worth noting. That's the early-stage deal between Merck and AstraZeneca to combine two of their development candidates in a Phase I trial.
That's Merck's AKT inhibitor MK-2206 and AZ's Mek inhibitor AZD6244, and there's room to think that combining those two mechanisms could be beneficial. But as that In Vivo Blog link details, this deal wasn't initiated through any official contact between the two companies. Rather, someone from Merck and someone from AZ got to talking while they were going through airport security in Dublin, and recognized each other's names. A mere year and a half later, the deal was born.
There's a lot to learn from that story. For one, big drug companies are not, for the most part, looking to do early-stage deals with other big drug companies. Perhaps we'll see more of these in the future, but in general, it's about the least likely form of partnership. Another thing to note is how long it took for this idea to bear fruit. Eighteen months is about right for companies of this size to make up their minds about something like this - and you can decide that (since the oncology field is so complicated) that this is a reasonable period of evaluation, or you can decide, equally objectively, that delays of that magnitude remind you of a sauropod turning around in puzzlement three hours after something bit its tail.
I'm impressed that the deal was made at all. The usual path for new ideas of this sort is to the graveyard, especially in very large organizations, so I have to assume that some people within each company must have really pushed things along to make it happen. It's part of the general bias toward inaction: it's harder to get beaten up for decisions that you didn't make, compared to decisions that you did. Missed opportunities are often invisible.
So, no matter how long it took, or even whether it works out, I still have to congratulate the people involved on getting this agreement to happen. It's worthwhile, I think, just because it's the sort of thing that doesn't happen very often. And I have the feeling that (in the coming years) we're going to have to explore a lot of things in this industry that haven't happened very often. We'll need the practice!
Comments (4)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Business and Markets | Cancer | Clinical Trials | Drug Development | Drug Industry History
May 22, 2009
Posted by Derek
I’ve been getting a lot of objections to my opinion on Arena’s obesity candidate lorcaserin. Specifically, the first level of the dispute seems to be whether or not the recent clinical trial results met the FDA’s criteria for efficacy or not. So, let’s look at the details. Here’s how Arena press-released the results of the trial:
The hierarchically ordered endpoints were the proportion of patients achieving 5% or greater weight loss after 12 months, the difference in mean weight loss compared to placebo after 12 months, and the proportion of patients achieving 10% or greater weight loss after 12 months. Compared to placebo, using an intent-to-treat last observation carried forward (ITT-LOCF) analysis, treatment with lorcaserin was associated with highly statistically significant (p<0.0001) categorical and average weight loss from baseline after 12 months:
-- 47.5% of lorcaserin patients lost greater than or equal to 5% of their
body weight from baseline compared to 20.3% in the placebo group. This
result satisfies the efficacy benchmark in the most recent FDA draft
guidance.
-- Average weight loss of 5.8% of body weight, or 12.7 pounds, was achieved
in the lorcaserin group, compared to 2.2% of body weight, or 4.7 pounds,
in the placebo group. Statistical separation from placebo was observed
by Week 2, the first post-baseline measurement.
-- 22.6% of lorcaserin patients lost greater than or equal to 10% of their
body weight from baseline, compared to 7.7% in the placebo group.
Lorcaserin patients who completed 52 weeks of treatment according to the protocol lost an average of 8.2% of body weight, or 17.9 pounds, compared to 3.4%, or 7.3 pounds, in the placebo group (p<0.0001).
Now let’s go to the FDA’s 2007 draft guidance for weight management therapies. Regarding the primary efficacy endpoint in a Phase III trial of such a new agent, the agency says:
The efficacy of a weight-management product should be assessed by analyses of both mean and categorical changes in body weight.
• Mean: The difference in mean percent loss of baseline body weight in the active-product versus placebo-treated group.
• Categorical: The proportion of subjects who lose at least 5 percent of baseline body weight in the active-product versus placebo-treated group.
And here’s the part that people keep wanting me to highlight:
In general, a product can be considered effective for weight management if after 1 year of treatment either of the following occurs:
• The difference in mean weight loss between the active-product and placebo-treated groups is at least 5 percent and the difference is statistically significant
• The proportion of subjects who lose greater than or equal to 5 percent of baseline body weight in the active-product group is at least 35 percent, is approximately double the proportion in the placebo-treated group, and the difference between groups is statistically significant
So lorcaserin showed 47.5% of patients losing at least 5% of their body weight, versus 20.3 for placebo. And yes, that does appear to meet what the FDA's looking for in terms of categorical efficacy, which is why the company highlighted that result in their press release. And yes (here it comes, Arena fans), the FDA does say ("in general") that an agent can be considered efficacious if a compound meets either the mean or the categorical standards.
But (and you knew that this paragraph was going to start with that word). . .but the FDA does not say "efficacious enough for approval". In general, to use their phrase, the agency does approve things that are efficacious and show safety. But they do that on their own terms, and they are (for better or worse) completely within their rights to turn around and ask for more details - for example, how well a compound like this performs as a combination therapy (which is how many physicians would likely wish to prescribe it).
Then we have the issue of "efficacious to interest a partner". Arena is surely looking to do that, since (as noted the other day) it does not appear that they have the resources to push the product through on their own. Given the potential size of the market for an effective obesity drug, we can be sure that a number of potential partners have been approached, and have taken a meaningful look at the data. So far, no one has taken them up on it. And whatever one thinks about the press coverage that lorcaserin has received (or the reaction from analysts who follow the stock, which has also not been good), it's for sure that these opinions don't count for much when it comes time for two companies to do a deal. Put more directly, if Arena sits down with Merck or Pfizer, what I say on this blog means nothing at all once the door closes. Heck, what they say at JP Morgan means nothing at all, either, because we're all outsiders. Potential partners are getting a chance to look over Arena's prospects, and if the numbers look convincing, someone will bite. If no one bites, we can assume that no one was convinced.
Or perhaps they're waiting for Arena to get even more cash-strapped and desperate. That isn't a very nice way to do business, but isn't unheard of, either, and I can tell you that these aren't very nice times in the drug business. At any rate, for those Arena fans who have been waiting for me to say something about all this, well, here you are. This is as good as you'll get from me - but really, you're wasting your time. You need to be hoping to persuade the people who can initiate nine-figure wire transfers.
Comments (9)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Business and Markets | Clinical Trials | Diabetes and Obesity | Regulatory Affairs
May 14, 2009
Posted by Derek
And while we're on the subject of clinical trials, and the headaches associated with them, this is a neat little article over at Slate on the subject. Darshak Sanghavi from UMass does a good job of explaining the surrogate-endpoints problem in clinical results, relating it to reality TV:
. . .In the federal Multimodal Treatment Study, hundreds of kids with ADHD, whose families were desperate enough to enroll them in a randomized study, entered a well-funded and highly supervised National Institute for Mental Health program complete with specialized therapy, regular evaluation by developmental experts, and careful drug prescription—a setup that's about as realistic as a date on The Bachelor. Within that very unusual, closely monitored environment, as reported in 1999, stimulant medications caused modest improvement after about a year. In response, use of these products surged nationwide, and Ritalin and its peers became household brands. But in March, the researchers described what happened after the lights went out. In their subsequent years in the real world, the drug-treated kids ultimately ended up no better off than the others.
Epidemiologists call this the problem of "surrogate endpoints," and it's no surprise to fans of reality television. Garnering the greatest number of text-messaging votes after a brief performance doesn't always mean you'll be a successful pop star; winning the final rose after an on-air courtship doesn't mean you'll have a happy marriage; and getting higher scores on a simple rating scale of attention-deficit symptoms doesn't mean you'll later succeed in school. In medicine, this problem happens all the time.
He doesn't shy away from some of the big surrogates in the clinical world, the biggest of which are cholesterol levels. That one, as he says, is at least considered a validated marker (with some relation to real-world mortality and morbidity), but there's plenty of room to argue about that, too. Ask Gary Taubes , who has a lot of provocative things to say about the whole low-fat idea. And if that one is still worth arguing over, what about the less validated endpoints?
In the end, I agree with Sanghavi that we really don't have any good alternatives yet. The real endpoints, in most cases, just take too long to measure. No one can finance a twenty-year clinical trial, and no one would put up with one even if it were feasible. We're stuck with what we have, and we just have to make it work the best we can.
Comments (3)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials
Posted by Derek
Late last year, I wrote about a possible new way to fund drug discovery, a private-equity model that seemed to be in the works at Goldman Sachs. The driving force behind the idea seemed to be Jon Symonds, former CFO at AstraZeneca.
Well, as the InVivoBlog noted yesterday, Symonds has suddenly decamped to Novartis. He’s press-released as their new CFO (after the current one retires), which makes you wonder what’s happened to that drug funding plan. Given the current environment for new financing schemes, and for banking in general (not to mention the current environment at Goldman Sachs), has the whole idea just been shelved?
As the In Vivo folks go on to say, financing clinical candidates in this way isn’t necessarily a bad idea – it just might be a bad time to try it out. There are a lot of issues to be worked out, but it’s looking more and more like no one’s going to be working them out any time soon. . .
Comments (2)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Business and Markets | Clinical Trials | Drug Development
May 6, 2009
Posted by Derek
Here's a good example of why all of us in the industry tiptoe into Phase I trials, the first-in-man studies. A company called SGX, recently acquired by Eli Lilly, has been developing a kinase inhibitor (SGX523) targeting the enzyme cMET. That's a well-known anticancer drug target, with a lot of activity going on in the space.
SGX's specialty is fragment-based design, and they've spoken several times at meetings about the SGX523 story. The starting point for the drug seems to have come out of X-ray crystallographic screening (the company has significant amounts of X-ray synchrotron beamline time, which you're going to need if you choose this approach). They refined the lead, in what (if you believe their presentations) was a pretty short amount of time, to the clinical candidate. It seems to have had reasonable potency and pharmacokinetics, very good oral bioavailability, no obvious liabilities with metabolizing enzymes or the dreaded hERG channel. And it was active in the animal models, however much you can trust that in oncology.
So off to the clinic they went. Phase I trials started enrolling patients in January of last year - but by March, the company had to announce that all dosing had been halted. That was fast, but there was a mighty good reason. The higher doses were associated with acute renal failure, something that most certainly hadn't been noticed in the mouse models, or the rats, or the dogs. It turns out that the compound (or possibly a metabolite, it's not clear to me) was crystallizing out in the kidneys. Good-looking crystals, too, I have to say. I can't usually grow anything like that in the lab; maybe I should try crystallizing things out from urine.
Needless to say, obstructive nephropathy is not what you look for in a clinical candidate. There's no market for instant kidney stones, especially when they appear all over the place at the same time. The patients in the Phase I trial did recover; kidney function was restored after dosing was stopped and the compound had a chance to wash out. But SGX523, which was (other than its unlovely structure) a perfectly reasonable-looking drug candidate, is dead. It didn't take long.
Comments (38)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cancer | Clinical Trials | Toxicology
May 5, 2009
Posted by Derek
Back when I joined the first drug company I ever worked for, the group in the lab next door was working on an enzyme called ACAT, acyl CoA:cholesterol acyltranferase. It’s the main producer of cholesterol esters in cells, and is especially known to be active in the production of foam cells in atherosclerosis. It had already been a drug target for some years before I first heard about it, and has remained one.
It hasn’t been an easy ride. Since 1990, several compounds have failed in the clinic or in preclinical tox testing. The most recent disappointment was in 2006, when pactimibe (Daiichi Sankyo) not only failed to perform against placebo, but actually made things slightly worse.
Lipid handling is a tough field, because every animal does is slightly differently. There are all sorts of rabbit strains and hamster models and transgenic mice, but you're never really sure until you get to humans. Complicating the story has been the discovery that there are two ACATs. ACAT-1 is found in macrophages (and the foam cells that they turn into) and many other tissues, and ACAT-2 is found in the intestine and in the liver. Which one to inhibit is a good question - the first might have a direct effect on altherosclerotic plaque formation, while the second could affect general circulating lipid levels. Pactimibe hits both about equally, as it turns out.
Now a second study of that drug has been published this spring. This one was going on at the same time as the earlier reported one, and was stopped when those results hit, but the data were in good enough shape to be worked up, and the company paid for the continued analysis. The new results look at patients with familial hypercholesterolemia, who got pactimibe along with the standard therapies. Unfortunately, the numbers are of a piece with the earlier ones: the drug did not help, and actually seemed to increase arterial wall thickness. I think it's safe to say, barring some big pharmacological revelation, that ACAT inhibitors are a dead end for atherosclerosis.
I bring this up for two reasons. One is that the group that was working next door to me on ACAT was the same group that discovered (quite by accident) the cholesterol absorption inhibitor ezetimibe, known as Zetia (and as half of Vytorin). Although its future is very much in doubt, it's for sure that that compound has been a lot more successful than any ACAT inhibitor. The arguing goes on about how helpful it's been (and will go on until we see the next trial results for another couple of years), but it's already made it further than ACAT.
And that's actually my second point. I suspect that almost no one in the general public has ever heard of ACAT at all. But it's been the subject of a huge amount of research, of time and work and money. And while we've learned more about lipid handling in humans, which is always valuable, the whole effort has been an utter loss as far as any financial return. I have no good way of estimating the direct costs (and even worse, the opportunity costs) involved with this target, but they surely add up to One Hell Of A Lot Of Money. Which is gone, and gone with hardly a sound outside the world of drug development. And this happens all the time.
Comments (15)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials | Drug Development | Drug Industry History | Toxicology
March 31, 2009
Posted by Derek
One of the drug targets for obesity that’s been kicking around for years now is a serotonin-receptor based idea, a 5-HT2c agonist. There are several lines of evidence that make this a plausible way to affect appetite – well, as plausible as any of the appetite-based obesity targets are. I’ve long been wary of these, since we’ve found (over and over) that human feeding behavior is protected by multiple, overlapping redundant pathways. We are the descendants of a long line of creatures that have made eating and reproducing their absolute priorities in life, and neither of those behaviors are going to be altered lightly. The animals that can be convinced to voluntarily eat so little that they actually lose weight, just through modifying a single biochemical pathway, are all dead. Our ancestors were the other guys.
Arena Pharmaceuticals is the latest company to give us more evidence for this point of view. Many drug discovery organizations have taken a crack at 5-HT2c compounds, as a look at the patent literature will make clear. But Arena got theirs, Locaserin, well into the clinic, and yesterday they announced the results. And. . .well, it depends on how you spin it. If you’re a glass-half-full sort of person, you could say that twice as many people in the drug treatment group lost at least the FDA’s target of their body mass, as compared to placebo.
Unfortunately, the glass-half-empty people are probably going to win this one. The FDA wants to see 5% weight loss (versus placebo) with a drug therapy, arguing (correctly, I think) that showing less than that really doesn’t give you much risk/benefit over just plain old diet and exercise. Arena’s compound averages out at 3.6%, and I don’t see how that’s going to cut it, especially with a new central nervous system mechanism. By “new”, I don’t mean “new to science” – as mentioned above, this idea has been around for years. But it would be a new thing to try out in millions of patients if you let a drug through, that’s for sure. I think it’s safe to say that a certain fraction of those are going to react in ways that you didn’t expect. 5-HT2 receptors are involved in a lot of different things, and there's bound to be a lot about any agent in this class that we don't know. Locaserin seems to have been well tolerated in trials, but I personally would be jumpy if I were taking something like this out into the broad population.
That’s not why I think this compound won’t make it, though. The FDA doesn’t even have to talk safety; they can reject it just on the grounds of efficacy. And it’s hard to imagine a lot of insurance plans picking up the tab for something with only those levels of clinical support, too. Arena's CEO says that he's pleased with the results of the trial. No, he isn't. Of course, he also says that he's convinced that the company will get Locaserin approved and find a partner to market it with, too. But then, that's his job.
Comments (34)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Diabetes and Obesity
March 30, 2009
Posted by Derek
Over the years of this blog, I’ve occasionally made comments about how no one really knows much about how drugs for the major central nervous system diseases work. Well, actually, I’ve stated things more forcefully than that, but you get the idea. And although many people who work in the area have written in to say that they agree, I’ve had questions from people completely outside it (journalists and others) about whether I’m serious when I say these things.
Oh, I am. For the latest piece of evidence, see what’s just happened to LY2140023, Eli Lilly’s new drug candidate for schizophrenia. The company was running a three-armed Phase II trial: placebo vs. their existing drug Zyprexa vs. the new one, which is a metabotropic glutamate ligand. And what happens? The placebo group performs about twice as well as the usual average in such trials, for some reason. And that not only swamped the investigational drug, but Zyprexa as well, which has been on the market for years.
Now, there's been a lot of argument about whether the current generation of antipsychotic drugs is really better than the older ones. But I believe that they're all supposed to come in better than a placebo. As Lilly points out, though, "inconclusive trials are common in neuroscience", and they're going to run another one and hope that the patients don't all start improving again on powdered sucrose or whatever the placebo was. But this is especially surprising (and disappointing) because an earlier Phase II trial, run in a very similar design to the latest one, showed the compound working very well indeed. How do you go from such impressive results to no better than placebo in the same sort of trial design? Easy - just make sure that you're developing a drug for schizophrenia. Or depression. Or chronic pain, or Alzheimer's. Stick with the central nervous system, and your drug discovery career will never be boring.
Oh, and one last note: after all the recent stories about buried clinical results, I'm glad to see a company fall completely flat with one of its most promising drugs - and then get up at a large scientific meeting and tell everyone about it in detail. It's not that it's so unusual, but it's good to show people that it happens, and how it's handled when it does.
Comments (16)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | The Central Nervous System
March 23, 2009
Posted by Derek
Last week's discussions around here about the merits (and demerits) of pharma-industry research seem to be coming at what's either a really good or a really bad time. Take a look at this Washington Post article on the handling of clinical data at AstraZeneca.
These details have come up during a large array of lawsuits over Seroquel (quetiapine). And if they're as represented in this article, it doesn't make AZ's marketing folks look very good, and (by extension) the rest of the industry's. We shouldn't be doing this sort of thing, on general principle. But if that's not enough, and it probably isn't, here's a more practical concern: does it take much imagination or vision to think that, with all kinds of health care reform ideas in the air, this sort of behavior might just make Congress want to reform our industry really good and hard?
Comments (6)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Press Coverage | Regulatory Affairs | The Central Nervous System | Why Everyone Loves Us
March 20, 2009
Posted by Derek
Of course, no sooner do I come out defending drug company research than we have this to think about:
"An influential Harvard child psychiatrist told the drug giant Johnson & Johnson that planned studies of its medicines in children would yield results benefiting the company, according to court documents dating over several years that the psychiatrist wants sealed. . .much of (Dr. Joseph Biederman's) work has been underwritten by drug makers for whom he privately consults. An inquiry by Senator Charles E. Grassley, Republican of Iowa, revealed last year that Dr. Biederman earned at least $1.6 million in consulting fees from drug makers from 2000 to 2007 but failed to report all but about $200,000 of this income to university officials.
. . .One set of slides in the documents referred to “Key Projects for 2004” and listed a planned trial to compare Risperdal, also known as risperidone, with competitors in managing pediatric bipolar disorder. The trial “will clarify the competitive advantages of risperidone vs. other neuroleptics,” the slide stated. All of the slides were prepared by Dr. Biederman, according to his sworn statement."
There are other examples. Some of this is marketing-speak, to be sure. But mixing up the marketing stuff with the inner workings of the clinical trials is a very bad idea. For sales and marketing people, it's always onward and upward, positive attitude, create-your-own-successful-reality. You most definitely do not want that worldview in a clinician: "Just the facts, ma'am" is more like it. And that doesn't sound like what we're seeing here.
Comments (10)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | The Dark Side
Posted by Derek
So, in light of the Reuben scandal of forged data about pain management in surgery patients, the question naturally comes to mind: how much role did industry play? I’ve seen articles (and had comments here) to the effect that industry-sponsored research is worthless: discount it, can't trust it, bought and paid for, and so on.
The problem is, you can't completely shake that accusation. Industries (and not just the drug industry, by any means) are willing to pay for results that tell them what they want to hear. And while at times that's crossed over into outright fraud, many times it's just that you can set up all kinds of studies, in all kinds of ways, and get all kinds of answers. Run enough of them, and you can choose the ones you like and pretend the others aren't there.
The whole idea of scientific research is that you don't operate like this, of course, and eventually these things do get settled out. If the drug industry really did make sure that only happy results came out, we'd never have catastrophic clinical trial failures, and never have any drugs recalled from the market. And things like the (Nobel-worthy) H. pylori story behind stomach ulcer formation never would have seen the light of day if the industry were capable (on the other hand) of burying everything it didn't want to hear about.
But there are biases, real and potential, and they always have to be looked out for. One error, though, is to assume that these biases can be eliminated by turning to academic research instead. That's the point of a recent Op-Ed in the Washington Post by David Shaywitz, who's worked both sides of the business:
Part of the problem is that we've been conditioned to trust university research. It is based, after all, on the presumably lofty motives of its practitioners. What's not to like about science carried out by academics who have nobly dedicated their lives to understanding the unknown, furthering knowledge and serving humanity?
. . .University researchers are in a constant battle for recognition and the rewards associated with success: research space, speaking engagements, funding and autonomy. Consequently, while academic research is often described as "curiosity-driven," the reality is messier, as (curiously) many researchers tend to pursue the trendiest technologies and explore topics that happen to be associated with the most generous levels of research support.
Moreover, since academic success is determined almost exclusively by the number and prestige of research publications, the incentives to generate results are exceedingly powerful and can encourage investigators to see patterns that may not exist, to disregard contradictory observations that might be important, to overvalue data that might be preliminary or unreliable, and to embrace conclusions that deserve to be viewed with far greater skepticism.
Shaywitz goes on to make the same point I did above - that the system is ultimately self-correcting - but is calling for people to recognize that academic research is also done by human beings, with all that entails. John Tierney at the New York Times had taken up this topic last fall, and wondered about what would happen if enough researchers decided to stop taking industry funding because they were tired of having their integrity questioned.
Tierney's responded to the Shaywitz piece now as well. The comments from his readers are all over the place each time. Some of them are (correctly, to my mind) going along with the idea that research always comes in with various potential biases and agendas, and should be judged case-by-case no matter the source. There are, naturally, some who aren't buying anything that might get industrial research off the hook.
"In industry sponsored comparative studies of medical treatments, the sponsor’s product always comes out on top," says one commenter there. But that's not true. I can give you plenty of examples right off the top of my head. For sure, we try to run studies that will show a benefit for our therapies - but we also have to pin these down to the real world for people (and the FDA) to have a better chance of trusting the results. We're not going to set up a trial that we have good reason to think will fail: life is too short, and the supply of funds is not infinite. You target the diseases (and the patients) that you think will benefit the most (and show the most impressive results, naturally).
And that's a bias to consider right there: we don't set up our trials randomly, so keep that in mind. But no one sets up drug trials randomly, anywhere. There's always a reason to do something so expensive and time-consuming - you should always keep that in mind, weigh it in your calculations, and decide from there.
Comments (17)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Press Coverage | The Dark Side | Why Everyone Loves Us
February 12, 2009
Posted by Derek
Just ask La Jolla Pharmaceuticals, whose small stock is down about 90 per cent on the bad news. They follow a distinguished list of wipeouts in this area. Immunology is hard.
Comments (8)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials
February 9, 2009
Posted by Derek
Viropharma has announced that their Phase III trial of maribavir, a compound targeting cytomegalovirus, failed big-time. Well, they didn't used the term "big-time", but they might as well have. The treatment group (patients with recent bone marrow transplants) showed no difference in CMV infection rates compared to placebo. This is especially disappointing, considering that the compound looked pretty good in Phase II. That's a useful lesson in the difference between Phase II and the real world.
The company has been through this before. Back in the late 1990s, they were working on another antiviral, Pleconaril, that in those heady days caused their stock to shoot up well over $50/share. Some people had gotten it into their heads that the stuff was going to cure the common cold and who knows what else besides. In the spring of 2000, the bad news came in that the drug would do nothing of the kind. I was short the stock at that point, and I've long wished that I had a videotape of me trying to call my broker after I saw the stock quote that morning. I kept missing the buttons on the phone; it was pretty entertaining.
Maribavir isn't one of VPHM's own creations, actually - they licensed it from GSK, and it's a good ol' nucleoside analog in the tradition of many antivirals. But that's a tough area to work in, and today's bad news is just more proof.
Comments (13)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Infectious Diseases
January 5, 2009
Posted by Derek
In past years, around this time I’ve often done a look back at the previous year in the drug industry. I hope that no one will be disappointed if I scuttle that tradition, because honestly, I have no desire whatsoever to relive what drug research went through in 2008. It may have been the toughest year for industry scientists in the modern era – everyone I know struggles to find a comparison.
I’d rather spend my energies on 2009. Let’s just stipulate that 2008 was, on balance, horrendous: what does that tell us? How did we end up in this position, and how can we avoid more of the same? There’s a lot of arguing room in those questions, but I think that we can agree that the proximate cause is that we’re not coming up with enough good drugs. 2008, for all its ugliness, was a handful of good products away from being a decent year. Why were we short that handful?
You have to go back some years to answer a question like that, given the industry’s lead time. The projects that were begun in the mid-to-late 1990s are clearly not coming through in the way that everyone had hoped. Is it that our attrition rate has gone up, or have we just not taken enough things to the clinic, or some of each?
Let’s think about that first problem, which certainly seems to be real enough. Is it that the easy targets have all been worked over, leaving us with only the tough ones? I don’t think that’s the whole explanation, although that’s certainly part of it. Still, even some of the big drugs from years past wouldn’t have made it through our current structures. So are the hurdles set too high during development – that is, do we know too much about potential problems, without having learned a corresponding amount about how to fix them? That’s got to be a big factor, which leads to a New Year’s resolution: try to spend as much time fixing problems as finding them. That’s a hard one to live up to, but it’s a goal to work toward.
And if we’re going to talk about that latter number, we’re going to have to cut through the often artificial “projects advanced” figures that circulate inside companies. Anyone who’s been around this business has seen some long shots (and some outright losers) officially pushed forward just to make some year-end target. Now, long shots are fine. To a good approximation, everything we do is a long shot. And everything has to go to the clinic eventually (or die) – but we have to make sure that we’re not just checking boxes. So that’s another resolution: spend less time kidding ourselves.
Of course, there’s a flip side to the number of compounds going to the clinic. Could it be that we’re being too cautious, because we have too many potential worries (those high hurdles mentioned above)? Should we be taking more things forward? Well, that’s an expensive proposition, the way things are set up now. So here’s another hard-to-live-up-to resolution: find ways to go to the clinic without betting our shirts every time. That’s been a big focus the last few years (biomarkers, etc.), but we need every idea and technique we can think of (microdosing? Simulations, even?). The cost of getting answers in humans is getting too high for us to try out as many ideas as we need to.
And here's a less macro-scale resolution, which I plan to start putting into practice immediately: don't let fear run your research. Try some things that you aren't sure about. Take some chances. Put down some bets. I've got several that I've let sit in the should-I-do-this limbo for too long, and I'm going to do something about that. Join me?
Comments (12)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Drug Development | Drug Industry History | Who Discovers and Why
December 9, 2008
Posted by Derek
Now, here’s an odd item from the Financial Times (registration required):
Goldman Sachs is in talks to provide hundreds of millions of dollars of funding to a large pharmaceutical company, in the first evidence of a new business model for the sector that will see financing shifted away from funding companies and towards targeted co-development of specific medicines. . .
. . .(The model involves) a different approach, creating a "research pool" into which pharma companies would place a range of experimental drugs in a single therapeutic area in early-stage phase 1 and 2 trials, where their specialists would work alongside external experts including scientists, chemists and clinical research organizations.
This was announced at a conference run by the newspaper, so they’re really the only source for information on this. I haven’t been able to find anything from Goldman about it, for example, and the minimal press coverage so far has all pointed back to this article. (Ed Silverman picked it up at Pharmalot, for example).
So one wonders what’s up, because the information that’s given raises more questions than it answers. I presume that the assumption is that since only a few early-stage clinical compounds ever make it, that this gives everyone a chance to share the risk. But which therapeutic area are we talking about here? How are things apportioned when one compound makes it through? And what if more than one does? And where are these external experts coming from, and who pays them?
This could be very interesting, because I think that we need to be open to some new research models in the industry. The current one isn’t exactly spewing results these days. But I wish that I knew more about what this proposal involves – anyone out there have any more details that they can share?
Comments (11)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Business and Markets | Clinical Trials | Drug Development
December 2, 2008
Posted by Derek
Ever since the catastrophic failure of Pfizer's HDL-raising CETP inhibitor torcetrapib in late 2006, everyone involved has wondered just what the problem was. There was a definitely higher cardiovascular-linked death rate in the drug-treatment group as opposed to placebo - which led to the screeching halt in Phase III, as well it might - but why? Is there something unexpectedly bad about raising HDL? Or just in raising it by inhibiting the CETP enzyme, which might well provide a different lipoprotein profile than other high-HDL ideas? Was it perhaps an off-target effect of the drug that had nothing to do with its mechanism? And for any of these possibilities, is there the possibility of a biomarker that could warn of approaching trouble?
There are now two analyses of clinical data that may shed some light on these questions (thanks to Heartwire for details and follow-up). The first, a new analysis from Holland of the RADIANCE trial data, shows an electrolyte imbalance (low potassium and higher sodium) in the treatment group. Measuring carotid wall thickness, they found no correlation between the degree of HDL elevation and progress of disease, which is disturbing. The only correlation was with lower LDL levels, and the authors point out that torcetrapib has unappreciated LDL-lowering activity. (Of course, there are easier and more proven ways to do that!)
The second, the ultrasound-monitored trial called ILLUSTRATE led by the Cleveland Clinic, actually did show a correlation between HDL levels and disease progression, as measured by PAV (per cent atheroma volume). This paper concludes that the drug did perform mechanistically, but that needs some qualification. Overall, there was no real significant change in PAV, but looking more closely, the individual changes did seem to correlate with the amount of HDL elevation each group of patients achieved. Only the very highest-responding group showed any regression, though.
Interestingly, this study also showed the same sort of electrolyte imbalance, and both teams seem to agree that torcetrapib is showing off-target mineralcorticoid effects. Steve Nissen of the Cleveland group is more optimistic (a phrase one doesn't get to write every day). He thinks that a CETP inhibitor that doesn't hit the adrenals might still find a place - but I have to say, looking over the data, that it sure won't be the place that the companies involved were hoping for. Instead of being world-conquering cardiovascular wonder drugs, perhaps the best this class of compounds can hope for is a niche, perhaps alongside statin therapy. I just don't see how this level of efficacy translates into something all that useful.
But we'll see. Merck's anacetrapib is still going along. The data we have so far suggest that the compound raises HDL without effects on blood pressure, as opposed to torcetrapib. So maybe (for whatever reason - blind luck, I'd say) this compound doesn't do anything to the aldosterone pathway. But does it do anything to atherosclerosis? That's the question, and that's what the big money will have to be spent on in Phase III to find out. A comment at the Wall Street Journal's Helath Blog has it right:
Welcome to the challenges of pharmaceutical research. Pharmacogenomic evidence originally led Pfizer to hope that elevating HDL through inhibiting CETP would be beneficial. A biomarker assessment in patients suggests that plaque reduction is associated with the highest HDL elevations. Yet, with torcetrapib, there appears to be a safety biomarker popping up. Are either the efficacy or safety signals really biomarkers of long term clinical outcome? You only need to ante up $800M to run mortality and morbidity trials for 5 or more years. Any investors?
Comments (3)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials | Toxicology
November 25, 2008
Posted by Derek
Avandia (rosiglitazone) has been under suspicion for the last couple of years, after data appeared suggesting a higher rate of cardiovascular problems with its use. GlaxoSmithKline has been disputing this association all the way, as well they might, but today there’s yet more information to dispute.
A retrospective study in the Archives of Internal Medicine looked at about 14,000 patients on Medicare (older than 65) who were prescribed Avandia between 2000 and 2005. Now, looking backwards at the data is always a tricky business. For example, comparing these patients to another group that didn’t get the drug could be quite misleading – the obvious mistake there is that if someone has been prescribed Avandia, then they’re likely getting it because they’ve got Type II diabetes (or metabolic syndrome at least). Comparing that cohort to a group that isn’t showing such symptoms would be wildly misleading.
But this study compared the Avandia patients to 14,000 who were getting its direct competitor, Actos (pioglitazone). Now that’s more like it. The two drugs are indicated for the same patient population, for the same reasons. Their mechanism of action is supposed to be the same, too, as much as anyone can tell with the PPAR-gamma compounds. I wrote about that here – the problem with these drugs is that they affect the transcription of hundreds of genes, making their effects very hard to work out. Rosi and pio overlap quite a bit, but there are definitely (PDF) genes that each of them affect alone, and many others that they affect to different levels. Clinically, though, they are in theory doing the exact same thing.
But are they? This study found that the patients who started on Avandia had a fifteen per cent higher deaths-from-all-causes rate than the Actos group. To me, that’s a startlingly high number, and it really calls for an explanation. The Avandia group had a 13 per cent higher rate of heart failure, but no difference in strokes and heart attack, oddly. The authors believe that these latter two causes of death are likely to be undercounted in this population, though – there’s a significant no-cause-reported group in the data.
The authors also claim that the two populations were “surprisingly similar”, strengthening their conclusions. I think that that’s likely to be the case, given the similarities between the two drugs. GlaxoSmithKline, for their part, is saying that these numbers don’t match the safety data they’ve collected, and that a randomized clinical trial is the best way to settle such issues.
Well, yeah: a randomized clinical trial is the best way to settle a lot of medical questions. But neither GSK (nor Takeda and Lilly, makers of Actos) have seen fit to go head-to-head in one, have they? My guess is that both companies felt that the chances of showing a major clinical difference between the two was small, and that the size, length, and expense of such a trial would likely not justify its results. And if we’re talking about the beneficial mechanisms of action here, that’s probably true. You’d have quite a time showing daylight between the two drugs on things like insulin sensitivity, glycosylated hemoglobin, and other measures of diabetes. Individual patients may well show differences, and that's useful in practice - but that's a hard thing to show in a large averaged set of data. But how about nasty side effects? Maybe there's some room there - but in a murky field like PPAR-gamma, you'd have to have a lot of nerve to run a trial hoping to see something bad in your competitor's compound, while still being sure enough of your own. No, it's disingenuous to talk about how these questions need to be answered by a clinical trial, when you haven't done one, haven't planned one, and have (what seemed to be) good reasons not to.
This kind of study is the best rosi-to-pio comparison we're likely to get. And it does not look good for Avandia. GSK is going to have to live with that - and in fact, they already are.
Comments (4)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Diabetes and Obesity | Toxicology
November 24, 2008
Posted by Derek
Since I was talking about Nitromed on Friday, let me mention another attempt to combine two known drugs into a new therapy. Another Cambridge company whose front doors I walk by once in a while is CombinatoRx. If they'd had that name back in the early 1990s, you'd have assumed that they did combinatorial chemistry, but their plan is to take approved drugs and find greater-than-the-sum-of-their-parts combinations to approve as a single pill.
That's not easy. It's hard enough figuring out just how single drugs behave in the real world, and any physician will tell you all about what fun it is to deal with drug interactions. Finding beneficial drug interactions, especially unknown ones, is a real uphill climb. But CombinatoRx thought they had one in the mixture of low-dose prednisolone and dipyridamole.
Prednisolone is a well-known corticosteroid which is used to suppress inflammation and the immunen response. Dipyridamole is a multi-mechanism drug that increases the free concentration of adenosine, and it's been used to inhibit clotting and lower pulmonary hypertension. Blood pressure problems are common with prednisolone, and the company believed that the prednisolone dose could be taken down to non-side-effect levels in the presence of the other drug. So they formulated a combination pill (Synavive, CRx-102) to test this out in osteoarthritis patients. The stakes were high - here's a writeup from before the results came out last month.
Things did not work out. The Phase IIb study definitively missed its endpoints. Not only did Synavive not compare to prednisolone alone, it didn't reach statistical significance versus the placebo group, either. The stock dropped 72% the next day, and the company has now announced layoffs that total 65% of its workforce.
What I have to wonder, though, is how things would have worked out in the long run even if the trial had succeeded. As Nitromed's experience shows, it's a hard business convincing insurers to pay a premium for two generic drugs just because they're now available in one pill. I know that CombinatoRx was making much out of their proprietary formulation, no doubt anticipating such objections. But I wonder if a company in this space would have to actually run a head-to-head against the two-generic-pill dosing regimen to really convince people that it had something to offer. And that would take nerves of steel, for sure. . .
Comments (12)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Business and Markets | Clinical Trials
November 12, 2008
Posted by Derek
Should millions more people be taking Crestor? That’s a real balancing act. You have a decrease in heart attacks, but from a fairly small incidence rate. So at a minimum, you’ll need to balance the costs of those coronary events versus the cost of paying for all that Crestor. And statins are not without side effects themselves, so you’ll need to adjust your figures for the incidence of rhabdomyolosis, among other things. (For example, is the increased evidence of high blood sugar in the Crestor treatment group a real effect, or not? If so, you’ll need to add a bit of diabetes cost to the spreadsheet). In any case, the cost of getting all these people screened for C-reactive protein levels in the first place needs to be added in as well.
Naturally, as in any of these calculations, you’re going to have to figure how much should be spent to prevent each excess death, once you’ve decided that these deaths can indeed be considered excess. (Unfortunately, the answer cannot always be “as much as it takes”, since there is not enough money in the world to treat everyone for everything, forever). And that brings up another key question: would putting high-CRP patients on Crestor save lives at all?
Well, you’d think so, what with lowering the incidence of those coronary events. But mortality figures are tricky. In all the graphs presented in the NEJM paper, the “deaths from all causes” one is the least compelling. That shouldn’t be a real surprise, since cutting something down in the 1% range isn’t going to bend the curve very much on its own. But if you look closer at the data, things are even fuzzier.
As pointed out to me by a correspondent, the Crestor-treated group for some reason showed a lower death rate from cancer (35 deaths versus 58). It doesn’t seem particularly likely that this is a real effect – I’ve never heard of statins showing a protective effect like this, although if someone knows differently, I’d be glad to hear about it. The paper makes nothing of this comparison, at any rate. Minus this effect, though, the death rate between the two groups might well be within the error bars. The argument for Crestor would then have to be made purely on treatment costs, as in the first paragraph, because you’d be saving few, if any, lives at all.
And maybe there’s a case to be made. I’m not a public health expert, so I don’t know what numbers to put into those calculations. But it’s important to realize, contrary to some of the headlines out there, that it’s actually a hard call to make. I note that AstraZeneca is being cautious about what all this means for sales of Crestor. They’re wise to be.
Comments (20)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials
November 10, 2008
Posted by Derek
AstraZeneca took a pretty big risk in running a trial as big as the JUPITER one, but it seems to have paid off for them. As everyone has been reading, it appears that their Crestor (rosuvastatin), lowers the risk of cardiovascular events in patients with elevated C-reactive protein, even those with reasonable cholesterol numbers. (NEJM paper here).
These patients don’t have an awful lot of heart attacks, but they did have less while on the drug. That’s going to be enough, all by itself, to expand the market for Crestor (and probably the other statins as well). The question is whether the others will have the same effect. You’d think so, especially a similar strong one like Lipitor, but AstraZeneca is the only company with numbers for its own product.
The question will be whether it’s worth treating such a wider patient population at these intent-to-treat numbers, a point made in an accompanying editorial in the New England Journal of Medicine:
The relative risk reductions achieved with the use of statin therapy in JUPITER were clearly significant. However, absolute differences in risk are more clinically important than relative reductions in risk in deciding whether to recommend drug therapy, since the absolute benefits of treatment must be large enough to justify the associated risks and costs. The proportion of participants with hard cardiac events in JUPITER was reduced from 1.8% (157 of 8901 subjects) in the placebo group to 0.9% (83 of the 8901 subjects) in the rosuvastatin group; thus, 120 participants were treated for 1.9 years to prevent one event.
It’s interesting to imagine these numbers flipped over, though – if a drug caused heart attacks at these same statistical levels in these same patients, it would be taken off the market immediately. Look, for example, at the risks of cardiovascular problems with Vioxx. The VIGOR trial showed 17 heart attacks in a group of over 4,000 patients, a rate (at the highest dose) of about four times the naproxen-treated control group. In relative risk terms, that’s a serious alarm bell – but in absolute risk, not so much.
This isn’t a completely fair comparison, of course – in the case of statins, cardiovascular events are what you’re trying to treat for in the first place, as opposed to having them as a totally unrelated side effect in a pain medication. And there were other options than a Cox-2 inhibitor for many (although not for all) of the people taking Vioxx. And there’s the general primum non nocere principle: when we find that a drug is causing actual harm (as opposed to doing nothing), it’s likely to be withdrawn, even if the harm is at very low statistical levels.
But at the same time, not giving people something that could prevent these heart attacks is still rather equivalent to causing said heart attacks – isn’t it? We have to make the call of whether the cost, and the statin side effects, are worth it. That’s not an easy one (for one thing, there was a statistically significant difference in the number of Crestor-treated patients showing diabetic symptoms in this trial). And when a drug shows harmful side effects, we should make the call in the same way. I just don’t see the two situation treated in a similar manner much of the time, though.
Comments (17)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials
October 17, 2008
Posted by Derek
Here's a good article over at the In Vivo Blog on this year's crop of expensive Phase III failures. They've mostly been biotech drugs (vaccines and the like), but it's a problem everywhere. As In Vivo's Chris Morrison puts it:
Look, drugs fail. That happens because drug development is very difficult. Even Phase III drugs fail, probably more than they used to, thanks to stiffer endpoints and attempts to tackle trickier diseases. Lilly Research Laboratory president Steve Paul lamented at our recent PSA meeting that Phase III is "still pretty lousy," in terms of attrition rates -- around 50%. And not always for the reasons you'd expect. "You shouldn't be losing Phase III molecules for lack of efficacy," he said, but it's happening throughout the industry.
Ah, but efficacy has come up in the world as a reason for failure. Failures due to pharmacokinetics have been going down over the years as we do a better job in the preclinical phase (and as we come up with more formulation options). Tox failures are probably running at their usual horrifying levels; I don't think that those have changed, because we don't understand toxicology much better (or worse) than we ever did.
But as we push into new mechanisms, we're pushing into territory that we don't understand very well. And many of these things don't work the way that we think that they do. And since we don't have good animal models - see yesterday's post - we're only going to find out about these things later on in the clinic. Phase II is where you'd expect a lot of these things to happen, but it's possible to cherry-pick things in that stage to get good enough numbers to continue. So on you go to Phase III, where you spend the serious money to find out that you've been wrong the whole time.
So we get efficacy failures (and we've been getting them for some time - see this piece from 2004). And we're getting them in Phase III because we're now smart and resourceful enough to worm our way through Phase II too often. The cure? To understand more biology. That's not a short-term fix - but it's the only one that's sure to work. . .
Comments (16)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Drug Development | Drug Industry History | Pharmacokinetics | Toxicology
July 31, 2008
Posted by Derek
Today we take up the extremely interesting story of Rember, hailed in this week’s press as a potential wonder drug for Alzheimer’s. There are a lot of unusual features to this one.
To take the most obvious first, the Phase II data seem to have been impressive. It’s hard to show decent efficacy in an Alzheimer’s trial – you can ask Wyeth and Elan about that, although it’s a sore subject with them. But Rember, according to reports (this is the best I've seen), was significantly more effective than the current standard of care (Aricept/donezepil, a cholinesterase inhibitor). In light of some of the more breathless news stories, though, it’s worth keeping in mind that this was efficacy in slowing the rate of decline – not stopping it, and certainly not reversing it. Especially in the later stages of the disease, it’s extremely hard to imagine reversing the sort of damage that Alzheimer’s does to the brain (and yes, I know about the TNF-alpha reports – that subject is coming in a post next week). If Rember is twice as effective as Aricept, that's great - except Aricept's efficacy has never been all that impressive.
But that's still something, considering how the drug is supposed to work. Its target is different than the usual Alzheimer’s therapy. Accumulation of amyloid protein has long been suspected as the cause of the disease, but there have always been partisans for another pathology, the neurofibrillary tangles associated with tau protein. Arguments have been going on for years – decades – about which of these has more to do with the underlying cause(s) of Alzheimer’s. Rember is the first clinical shot (that I’m aware of) at targeting tau. If the first attempt manages to show such interesting results, it’s a strong argument that tau must be important. (Other people are working in this area, too, of course, but my impression is that it's nowhere near as many as work on amyloid).
That’s food for thought, considering the amount of time and effort that’s been expending on amyloid. It may be that both pathologies are worth targeting, or it may even be that these results with Rember are a fluke. But it’s also possible that tau is really the place to be, in which case the amyloid hypothesis will take its place in the medical histories as a gigantic dead end. I’m not quite ready to bet that way myself, but it’s definitely not something that can be ruled out. I wouldn’t put all my money on amyloid either, at this point. (Boy, am I glad I'm not still working in Alzheimer's: this sort of stuff is wonderful to watch from the outside, but from the inside it's hard to deal with).
Now, what about the drug itself? It’s coming from a small company called TauRx, whose unimpressive web site just went up recently. The underlying science (and the clinical data) all come from Dr. Claude Wischik of the University of Aberdeen, who has so far not published anything on the drug. The presentation this week has, by far, been the most that anyone’s seen of it (papers are said to be in the works).
And Rember itself is. . .well, it’s methylene blue. Now there’s an interesting development. Methylene blue has been around forever, used for urinary tract infections, malaria, and all sorts of things, up to treating protozoal infections in fish tanks. (For that matter, it’s turned up over the years as a surreptitious additive to blueberry pies and the like, turning the unsuspecting consumer’s urine greenish/blue, generally to their great alarm: a storied med school prank from the old days). What on earth is it doing for tau protein?
According to TauRx, the problem is that the aggregation of tau protein is autocatalytic: once it gets going, it's a cascade. They believe that methylene blue disrupts the aggregation, and even helps to dissociate existing aggregates. Once they're out in their monomeric forms, the helical tau fragments are degraded normally again, and the whole tau backup starts to clear out.
Now for another issue: there's been some commentary to the effect that Rember can't possibly make anyone any money, because it's a known compound. Au contraire. While we evil pharmaceutical folks would much rather have proprietary chemical matter, there are plenty of other inventive steps worth a patent. For one thing, I suspect that formulation will be a challenge here (and that Medpage story seems to bear this out). I doubt if methylene blue crosses the blood-brain barrier so wonderfully, and I also believe that it's cleared pretty well (thus that green urine). So TauRx had to dose three times a day, and their highest dose didn't seem to work, probably because of absorption issues. (That's also going to lead to gastrointestinal trouble). So formulating this ancient stuff so it'll actually work well could be a real challenge: t.i.d with diarrhea is not the ideal dosing profile for an Alzheimer's therapy, to put it mildly.
And for another, there's always mechanism of action. I deeply dislike patent claims that try to grab hold of an entire area, but there's so much prior art in tau that no one could try it. But use of a specific compound (or group of compounds) for a specific therapy: oh, yes indeed. It's a complicated area, and the law varies between Europe and the US, but it definitely can be done. The people who say that this can't be patented should check out the issued patents US7335505 or US6953794. Or patent applications US20070191352, WO2007110627, WO2007110629, and WO2007110630. There you go; that wasn't hard. Mind you, there might be some prior art for using such compounds as cognition-improving agents: I'd start here if I were in the business of looking into that sort of thing.
Finally, is methylene blue (or some derivative thereof) actually going to be a reasonable drug? There's that dosing problem, for one thing, but the long history in humans is encouraging (and is a key part of TauRx's hopes not to spend so much money on toxicity testing in the clinic - talks with the FDA should be starting soon). There have been contradictory reports (plus, minus) on the effects of the compound on the brain in general, though, so they may have to do more work than they're planning on. All in all, a fascinating story.
Comments (113)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Alzheimer's Disease | Clinical Trials | Patents and IP | Regulatory Affairs
July 29, 2008
Posted by Derek
I've talked about a lot of difficult therapeutic areas, but here's another boulevard of broken dreams: schizophrenia drugs. I was working on follow-ups to a promising clincial candidate, which has since been promising a number of times without ever delivering. It certainly missed its endpoints in schizophrenia by a mile in Phase II. That was actually my introduction to the drug industry back in 1989 - I followed that up with several years working on Alzheimer's, another notorious graveyard of good ideas, which makes me wonder why I didn't just quit at some point and open that chain of all-you-can-eat catfish restaurants that the Northeast so desperately needs.
Of course, once in a while a drug for dementia actually works a bit, and since there's a huge underserved market out there, it's a prize worth seeking (ask Lilly or J&J). But clinical success rates are absolutely horrific in the whole CNS area, and the latest company to demonstrate this is Vanda Pharmaceuticals in Maryland (I've always wondered if they're named after a spectacular, and spectacularly finicky, genus of orchid).
Vanda's drug iloperidone has been kicking around for years now. Hoechst Marion Roussel (now Aventis) seems to have discovered it in the early 1990s, and they, Novartis, and Titan have all handed it off to someone else over the years. Vanda was the last in line, but they got the dreaded "Not Approvable" letter from the FDA yesterday, and the company's stock was blitzed, down 73 per cent at the close. And the thing is, this drug got a lot closer than anything I used to work on. Vanda did hit their endpoints against placebo and against haloperidol, but the problem is, these are not necessarily the standard of care in schizophrenia:
" The FDA stated that Vanda had demonstrated the effectiveness of iloperidone at 24 mg/day in the 3101 study for which the company reported results in December, 2006, and that the efficacy was similar to the active comparator, ziprasidone (Geodon(R), Pfizer Inc.). In addition, the FDA also stated that iloperidone was superior to placebo in patients with schizophrenia at doses of 12-16 mg/day and 20-24 mg/day in a prior study. However, the FDA expressed concern about the efficacy of iloperidone in patients with schizophrenia relative to the active comparator, risperidone (Risperdal(R), Johnson & Johnson), used in prior studies. The FDA indicated that it would require an additional trial comparing iloperidone to placebo and including an active comparator such as olanzapine (Zyprexa(R), Eli Lilly & Company) or risperidone in patients with schizophrenia to demonstrate the compound's efficacy further. The FDA also stated that it would require Vanda to obtain additional safety data for patients at a dose range of 20 to 24 mg/day."
So iloperidone works, but quite possibly not well enough compared to what's already on the market. That alone won't quite sink your drug - you can always hunt for a patient cohort that benefits from a new compound, and you'll quite likely be able to find one if you have the resources. But as that last line mentions, there are additional safety concerns.
Reading between the lines, it would appear that iloperidone had the best chance of distinguishing itself in efficacy at the higher doses, but that the FDA wanted to make sure that side effects didn't start kicking in up there. This paper makes you wonder if one problem is the (dreaded) QT interval prolongation. Many other factors have looked relatively clean in some of the reported trials.
I greatly doubt if we'll see iloperidone surface again. Vanda wouldn't seem to have the resources, and too many other organizations have passed on it. At this point, it's hard to see why more money would be put into the compound. . .
Comments (12)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Business and Markets | Clinical Trials | The Central Nervous System
July 22, 2008
Posted by Derek
Merck took the unusual step of delaying its earnings release yesterday until after the close of the market. A report on another clinical study of Vytorin (ezetimibe), their drug with Schering-Plough, was coming out, so they put the numbers on hold until after the press release yesterday afternoon. Naturally, this led to a lot of speculation about what was going on. A conspiracy-minded website vastly unfriendly to Schering-Plough suspected some sort of elaborate ruse to drum up publicity.
But that sort of thinking doesn't take you very far, unless you count the distance you rack up going around in circles. As it turned out, the SEAS trial (Simvastatin and Ezetimibe in Aortic Stenosis) was, in fact, very bad publicity indeed for the drug and for both companies. In fact, a real conspiracy would have made sure that these numbers never saw the light of day, or were at least released at 6 PM on a Friday. But no, the spotlight was on them good and proper.
This trial studied patients with chronic aortic stenosis, which is a different condition than classic atherosclerosis. The two have enough similarities, though, that there has been much interest in whether statin treatment could be effective. The primary endpoint, a composite of aortic valve and general cardiovascular events, was missed. Vytorin was no better than placebo. It reached significance against one secondary endpoint, reducing the risk of various ischemic events, but not in any dramatic fashion.
That's not necessarily a surprise, since there's not a well-established therapy for aortic stenosis (thus the trial design versus placebo). As several commenters to the conference call after the press conference pointed out, this shouldn't change clinical practice much at all. But it's not what Merck and Schering-Plough needed to hear, that's for sure, because the sound bite will be "Vytorin Fails Again".
Actually, the sound bite will be even worse than that. There are a lot of headlines this morning about another observation from the SEAS trial: that significantly more patients in the treatment arm of the study were diagnosed with cancer. That's a red warning light, for sure, but in this case we have at least some data to decide how much of one.
For one thing, as far as I know there have been no reports of increased cancer among the patients taking Vytorin out in the marketplace - of course, one could argue that this might have been missed, but if the effect were as large as seen in the SEAS study, I don't think it would have been. Analyses of the earlier Vytorin trials and the ongoing IMPROVE-IT trial versus Zocor have also shown no cancer risk, and the latter trial is continuing. So for now, it would appear that either this was a nasty result by chance, or (a longer shot) that there's something different about the aortic stenosis patients that leads to major trouble with Vytorin.
None of these scientific and statistical arguments, and I mean none of them, will avail Schering-Plough and Merck. Among people who've heard of Vytorin at all, the first thing that will come to mind is "doesn't work", and after today's headlines, the second thing that will come to mind is "cancer". Just what you want, to put out press releases that your compound, even though it failed to work again, isn't actually a cancer risk. You really couldn't do worse; a gang of saboteurs couldn't have done worse. Of course, there's no such gang: the companies themselves authorized these trials, thinking that there were home runs to be hit. But all these sidelines - familial hypercholesteremia, aortic stenosis - have only sown fear, confusion, and doubt. The only thing that I can see rescuing Vytorin as a useful drug is for the IMPROVE-IT results to show really robust efficacy in its real-world patients. And I wonder if even that could be enough.
Comments (19)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Business and Markets | Cancer | Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials | Toxicology
July 8, 2008
Posted by Derek
There was a story yesterday about GlaxoSmithKline taking what’s being called an unusual step to prioritize their clinical candidates. According to the Wall Street Journal, they invited officials from the national health care plans of several European countries to a presentation on the company’s pipeline and asked them which ones they’d be more likely to pay for (and what they’d need to see in the clinic to convince them to do that).
Actually, I think the unusual thing here is that they made a formal meeting out of the whole process. I believe that this sort of thing goes on already – after all, drug companies spend a lot of time trying to figure out the size of potential markets and what the eventual purchasers will be willing to pay. In Europe, those are the national health care systems, and if they’re not willing to pay, your drug will go nowhere. In the US, you’re going to want to sound out the big health insurance companies for the same kind of reality check.
And I don’t see how GSK showed these officials anything that you wouldn’t see (or haven’t seen) at an investor’s conference – otherwise, we’d have seen some Regulation FD disclosures, since the company’s stock is listed on the NYSE. This seems to have been a one-stop rundown of what’s already been disclosed about the whole pipeline, but with opinions specifically solicited along the way– and the company’s not obliged to say what those opinions were or what they’re doing in response to them. GSK got a lot more previously unavailable information out of this process than the health care officials did.
How much, though, will this help? For one thing, I suspect that the officials didn’t say much that GSK didn’t know about what everyone wants for a new drug. They want it to work better than anything that’s currently on the market, with fewer side effects, and for less money. (There, that was easy). And predicting the future doesn’t always work too well. The medical landscape could always change by the time the drugs make it up to the regulatory stage. There will also be a lot more information (good and bad) about the compounds themselves by that time, much of which could make these earlier discussions moot. “Remember that oncology drug we were developing? Well, turns out that it doesn’t work against quite as many different tumors as we were hoping, but. . .” or “Remember that CNS drug we were telling you about back in ’08? Well, turns out that it also has this little cardiovascular thing going, too, and. . .” In the end, the drugs will do what they will in the clinic, and the company will have to bring what it has, not what the regulators asked for.
And even though companies are already supposed to be doing this kind of legwork, there are still some spectacular disconnects. Sanofi-Aventis, for example, did manage to get Acomplia (rimonabant) on the market in Europe (which is more than they ever managed in the US), but they didn’t get the national health care to pay for it. More recently, as in "yesterday", the UK's health care system just told Glaxo itself that they're not going to pay for Tykerb/Tyverb (lapatinib), because they don't see the benefit for the price. And when we’re talking about totally mistaken ideas about market size and acceptance, how can we not mention Pfizer’s Exubera?
Comments (10)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Drug Development | Regulatory Affairs
June 30, 2008
Posted by Derek
I was mentioning the gamma secretase enzyme around here just the other day as a longstanding target for Alzheimer's therapy. I remember the periodduring the 1990s when the enzyme hadn't been identified yet, and frankly, it was a lot easier to get excited about it then. That's because when it was finally worked out, the protease turned out to be a big multifunctional multiprotein complex, and among its many functions was affecting Notch signaling.
That's worrisome, because a lot of important cellular development pathways go through the Notch receptor, and these are things that you'd really rather not mess with. (Just run the word "notch" through PubMed to see what I mean). Indeed, some of the toxic effects of the earlier gamma secretase inhibitors seem to have been mediated through just those side effects. So for some years now in the gamma secretase field, the hunt has been on for compounds that will shut down beta-amyloid production without messing with the other functions of the enzyme complex.
Myriad Genetics took such a compound of theirs, Flurizan, into the clinic, after licensing it out to the Danish CNS drug company Lundbeck. They claim that these aren't straight inhibitors, but rather change the activity of the protease in some way that relatively less amyloid is produced. The drug showed some effects in Phase II studies - nothing to jump up and down about, but enough for Lundbeck to pony up for Phase III.
They wish now that they hadn't. As of this morning, the drug appears to have missed all its clinical endpoints in the Phase III trial: no improvement in cognition, no improvement in quality of life. There's no way to spin this kind of result, and the company announced at the same time that they're discontinuing any further work on the compound. (Interestingly, this news seems to have actually made some of its investors happier). It's Lundbeck, though, that seems to be left holding the bag, and their stock is getting hammered to multiyear lows. They have a monstrous patent expiration coming up in 2012 (Lexapro, by far their biggest drug ever), which might explain why they took a flier on the Myriad compound in the first place. The whole effort looks like something of a Hail Mary throw on their part - and most of those go down as incomplete. . .
Comments (9)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Alzheimer's Disease | Clinical Trials
April 16, 2008
Posted by Derek
A recent interview in Nature Reviews Drug Discovery with John Powers, formerly of the FDA, points out some problems in designing antibacterial drug trials. Some of these are unique to this area, although others we're stuck with wherever we go.
For one thing, it’s surprisingly hard to make sure, when you’re selecting patients, that the people you’re letting into the trial have the disease that you’re trying to treat. The example used is that some 5% of the patients who present with cough actually have pneumonia. Pneumonia is a very good disease to treat with antibacterial drugs, but you’d better make sure that your patients actually have it. There are some tests available to make sure that a given pathogen is present, although they aren’t available in every case you’d want them to be. If you don’t have such a screen, you risk having a very heterogeneous patient population, which will likely as not obscure the effectiveness of the drug you’re testing.
Then there’s the related difficulty in treating some conditions that you’d think would be clear cases for antibacterials: ear infections, for example. The problem is, it’s surprisingly hard to show benefit for some of these things with existing drugs. The underlying infection may be hard to get to (poor circulation in the infected area), or it may be an intrinsically heterogeneous condition like sinusitis. (That can be the result of umpteen different sorts of bacteria, or it could well be something viral, or several varieties of fungal infection, or allergies, what have you). There’s no point in running a head-to-head with an existing medication in these cases; you should run against placebo. That'll be enough of a challenge.
Another problem is that some of the bacterial diseases progress rather quickly – ahead, in some cases, of our ability to usefully diagnose them. That presents a real challenge for a clinical design, one that is dealt with, in many cases, by not attempting to gather rigorous clinical data under these conditions at all. In this field, diagnostic tools have to be fast if they’re going to be of much use.
There are two sides to all these problems: not only do you want to get the drug to the people who need it (and who will respond to it) the most, you want avoid giving it to people who won’t respond at all. That’s not just for the reasons given above (it’ll mess up your data), although that’s enough all by itself. No, the other problem is that spreading your drug around to inappropriate patient populations will just bring on resistance even faster. That’s going to happen no matter what, of course – the key is to have it happen as slowly as possible.
Comments (5)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Infectious Diseases
April 9, 2008
Posted by Derek
I don't usually do more than one post a day, but this really caught my eye. In an ongoing review of Pfizer's (now discontinued) inhaled insulin (Exubera), an increased chance of lung cancer has turned up among participants in the clinical trials. Six of the over four thousand patients in the trials on Exubera have since developed the disease, versus one of the similarly-sized control group. Six isn't many, but with that large a sample size, it's something that statistically can't be ignored, either.
The concerns would have to be, naturally, that this number could increase, since damage to lung tissue might take a while to show up. This, needless to say, completely ends Nektar's attempts to find another partner for Exubera. Their stock is getting severely treated today (down 25% as I write), but things are even worse for another small company, Mannkind, that's been working on their own inhaled insulin for years now (down 58% at the moment).
There's no guarantee that another inhaled form would cause the same problems, but there's certainly no guarantee that it wouldn't, either. Whether this is an Exubera-specific problem, an insulin-specific one, or something that all attempts at inhaled proteins will have to look out for is just unknown. And unknown, in this case, is bad. It's going to be hard to make the case to find out, if this is the sort of potential problem waiting for your new product. Inhaled therapeutics of all sorts have taken a huge setback today.
Comments (21)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cancer | Clinical Trials | Diabetes and Obesity | Toxicology
April 4, 2008
Posted by Derek
This is turning into Cardiovascular Week around the blog, I have to say, and not in a good way. The latest news is the failure of a drug candidate from Takeda, TAK-475 (lapaquistat). They were in the lead in the field of squalene synthase inhibitors for cholesterol lowering (many other companies have taken a crack at this target, and dropped out along the way)., and their compound once had hopes of being a pretty big deal.
Not any more. In retrospect, the bell sounded late last year, when the company had to stop dosing at their highest level. Elevated transaminase levels were being seen in the treatment groups as the dose went up, which is a sure sign of trouble, as in liver damage trouble. Some investors seem to have held out hope for the compound to show enough efficacy at the lower doses, but Takeda has announced that the safety/efficacy ratio doesn’t justify taking the drug forward.
Liver enzymes are definitely one of those things you worry about when you go into man. There are all sorts of assays that are supposed to give you a read on that problem beforehand, and it’s safe to assume that Takeda ran them. But you’re never sure until you hit humans. Animals can react very differently to some compounds, although that can go either way. But if you set off liver enzyme trouble in rats or dogs your compound is probably dead, no matter how it might act in humans. You won’t get the chance to find out, most of the time.
The alternative is to use human liver tissue, but cultured human liver cells rapidly lose their native abilities and become untrustworthy as a model for the real world. Human liver slices are another alternative, but those are rather hard to come by, as you can well imagine, and the data from them have a reputation for being hard to interpret and hard to reproduce. No, for now, there’s no way to really know what will happen in humans without, well, using humans.
The big question that always gets asked in these failures is whether this is a compound-specific effect, a compound class effect, or a mechanistic effect. Most of the time it’s one of the first two. There are particular compounds, and particular structural series, that are known to be Bad News for liver enzymes. There will be some lingering doubt, though, because there’s plenty of squalene synthase activity in the liver, and it’s not impossible that any compound that hits it could cause the same trouble.
There are a number of other inhibitors out there – interestingly enough, they may have other uses besides lowering cholesterol. For some time, it’s been thought that such compounds might be useful antibiotics, since many bacteria need cholesterol synthesis pathways to survive. And there’s a recent report in Science putting this to the test in a particularly relevant system, particularly virulent strains of Staphylococcus aureus.
The “aureus” part of the name refers to the yellow hue that many strains of the bug exhibit, which seems to be correlated with how nasty they are as an infectious agent. The color comes from staphyloxanthin, a pigment that seems to be used as a defense agent by the bacteria by neutralizing reactive oxygen attacks from a host’s immune system. As the current work shows, the first enzyme in the biosynthetic pathway for staphyloxanthin (known as CrtM) has a lot of structural similarities to human squalene synthase. The authors prepared a number of known squalene synthase inhibitors from the literature, and found that one class of them (the phosphonosulfonates) also inhibit CrtM.
They went further, showing that one of these compounds (a BMS clinical candidate from about ten years ago) actually works quite well as an antibiotic in vitro and in an in vivo mouse model. I'm not sure why this compound didn't go further, but perhaps it (and the others in its class) will have a second life in the antiinfectives world. . .
Comments (8)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials | Drug Development | Infectious Diseases
April 1, 2008
Posted by Derek
Ezetimibe, known as Zetia and as the key component of Vytorin, was invented by friends and colleagues of mine. It was the first drug I ever saw discovered after I joined the drug industry. The initial discovery of the whole compound class happened around the corner from my lab, and the compound that became ezetimibe itself was synthesized down the hall. So, no, I’m not taking the current news about it very well. The situation is still quite confused, but there looks to have been enough stupidity, greed, and plain bad luck involved to make anyone despair. Read on – but I should warn you, I’m probably just going to get madder and madder as the post continues.
As anyone unfortunate enough to be holding Merck or Schering-Plough stock already knows, both companies took a pounding yesterday after the American College of Cardiology issued its recommendation on the use of Vytorin (ezetimibe / simvastatin). This call was based on the now-infamous ENHANCE trial, which was just published in the New England Journal of Medicine. The main points of the study had already come out in January, of course, but a closer look at the data has done nothing to help explain its results: no improvement over existing therapy. Addition of the cholesterol absorption inhibitor to the statin appears to have done nothing to help clear arteries (based on measurement of intima-media thickness) over what could be done with the statin alone. Ezetimibe seems to have had no bad effects, fortunately, but no good ones, either.
The ACC’s verdict is that Vytorin should only be used as a last resort, and that patients currently taking it should strongly consider going back to plain statin therapy. Based on these study results, that seems like a reasonable recommendation. There’s a large outcome trial (IMPROVE-IT) underway comparing the two treatments, but we’re not going to see results from that one for another three years at the earliest. Until then, there doesn’t seem to be any reason to recommend Vytorin. (There may not be any reason to recommend it afterwards, either, but we’ll have to wait to see about that). Fortunately for everyone involved, no one seems to have been harmed, outside of the insurance companies who have paid out for Vytorin for the last few years – they not doubt have their own views on the subject.
It’s important to remember that this result is indeed a surprise, since the combination definitely does do a better job at lowering LDL. (As an editorial in the NEJM puts it, this "dramatically contradicts our expectations"). You’d think that extra LDL reduction would be associated with a better outcome, but one of the panelists at the ACC, Dr. Harlan Krumholz, points out (PDF) that hormone therapy lowers LDL as a side effect, but isn’t associated in that case with better atherosclerosis outcomes, either. Does that mean that there’s more to the effect of statins than just lowering LDL, too? That possibility has to be taken seriously. The non-lipid effects of inhibiting HMGCoA reductase, the statin target, may be part of the answer, although the authors of the NEJM paper are reluctant to make that their whole explanation.
What they suggest instead is disturbing. The study may have been doomed from the start. The ENHANCE subjects were not taken from the general population, but rather were patients with a genetic abnormality in LDL handling, familial hypercholesterolemia. The idea was that these patients would be even more likely to show a benefit from Vytorin. But as the NEJM authors make clear, this may at one time have been a good patient population to show benefits in, but now the great majority of people with this condition are treated with statins starting at an early age. This, naturally, has an effect on their arterial walls. So the subjects of this trial may have already had a head start on reducing their arterial thickness, which means there may well have been a limit on what any particular therapy could have accomplished. Instead of being a better group to demonstrate your LDL-lowering powers in, they could well be worse.
If that’s true, there is, in fact, a chance that the IMPROVE-IT trial could show a clear benefit for Vytorin, since it’s being run in a broader population. (Just watch the confusion if that happens). But what will that mean? The results will be far too late to help Merck and Schering-Plough, and will be a clear disservice to the patients that could have benefited from the drug before then. ENHANCE would then turn out to have been a huge mistake.
But not content with that, the companies have managed to make it into a complete disaster. The controversy has been whether Merck and Schering-Plough sat on the results of the trial or spent extra time trying to find a way to make them look more appealing. This has drawn the attention of Sen. Charles Grassley and an investigative committee, which is the sort of thing that no company can wish for. Yesterday Grassley released some of the text of his letters to the management of both companies, and these include quotes from e-mails sent by John Kastelein, the lead investigator on ENHANCE. They do not look good, not by any stretch of the imagination:
” Is it correct that SP has decided not to present at AHA, but to await the two other, completely unvalidated, endpoints, which analysis is going to take us straight into 2008??!!??
If this is true, SP must have taken this decision without even the semblance of decency to consult me as PI of the study. I can tell you that if this is the case, our collaboration is over…This starts smelling like extending the publication for no other [than] political reasons and I cannot live with that.”
In another e-mail, Kastelein expresses more frustration that the results would not be presented at that AHA meeting (as indeed they weren’t, in the end), and says that ”. . . you will be seen as a company that tries to hide something and I will be perceived as being in bed with you!”
Schering-Plough, for its part, says that these statements are taken out of context, but good grief, what other context could that possibly be? Kastelein has also backed off, saying that he wasn’t accusing the company of “deliberately withholding data for political reasons”, but again, it’s hard to read those excerpts in any other way. These days, no one should make statements in e-mail that they’re not comfortable seeing printed in the Wall Street Journal, which is where I got these.
And does it need to be said that this is exactly, I mean exactly the kind of thing that the drug industry does not need? Vytorin as a drug is easy to forgive – the combination makes perfect sense, and the fact that it didn’t show a good result in ENHANCE took everyone by surprise. (And, as mentioned above, it may in the end turn out to be a good therapy in the end). But the marketing of Vytorin is perhaps another thing – the companies really made a huge aggressive push to get as much of the cholesterol-lowering market as they could. That’s no sin by itself, unless business is a sin, but if you’re going to push that hard, you’d better make sure that you’re standing on something firm.
This trial definitely wasn't that sort of foundation, and the fallout from it has been made much, much worse by its handling. It's distressing to me that the management at Merck and Schering-Plough would even take the chance, in this climate, of being seen as data-massaging study-burying slime. What words do I find if that's what they turn out to be?
Ezetimibe was (and is) a wonderful scientific story in the drug discovery labs, and its development is a testament to some very dedicated and persistent people. What a pity that it's all come to this.
Comments (19)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials | Press Coverage | The Dark Side | Why Everyone Loves Us
March 17, 2008
Posted by Derek
I'm a bit under the weather today, so this one will be short. Since we were talking about CNS drugs and clinical trials the other day, I thought I'd mention this article from Neuropsychopharmacology.
The authors compare reported trials of first- and second-generation antipsychotics, looking to see if potentially biasing factors have skewed the results. One (perhaps surprising) result is that the authors couldn't confirm that the newer drugs necessarily work better through showing fewer extrapyramidal side effects (those are the muscle and coordination problems seen with many drugs in this class). While they may well show fewer EPS problems, that doesn't seem to be related to their efficacy.
Something of a relief is that the efficacy of the various drugs didn't seem to be related to whether or not the drug industry sponsored the trials involved. Given the publication bias of submitting favorable results (and given the obvious commercial interests involved), that's perhaps surprising. But it's welcome data to bring up the next time someone e-mails me about the eeevil Pharma companies and their bought-and-paid-for studies. I don't get a steady stream of that stuff, fortunately, but it still shows up often enough.
I still keep an occasional eye on the antipsychotic drugs, since that was the first therapeutic area I ever worked in when I joined the industry. The project came to a bad end, which was probably a good thing for my professional development. We took the drug into Phase I, gave substantial doses to normal volunteers, and rejoiced when it did nothing to them whatsoever. Then the compound went into Phase II and into real schizophrenics, and it did nothing whatsoever to them either, sad to say. And so it goes in CNS drug development. I don't think that study was ever published; if it had been it would have presumably made the correlation between industry sponsorship and efficacy even less likely. . .
Comments (3)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | The Central Nervous System
March 12, 2008
Posted by Derek
Well, I wish I hadn’t been right about this one. Last month I spent some time expressing doubts about Merck’s new obesity drug candidate taranabant, a cannabinoid-1 ligand similar to Sanofi-Aventis’s failed Acomplia (rimonabant). S-A ran into a number of central nervous system side effects in the clinic, and although they’ve gotten the drug approved in a few markets, it’s not selling well. US approval, now long delayed, looks extremely unlikely.
I couldn’t see why Merck wouldn’t run into the same sort of trouble. If a report from a Wall St. analyst (Aileen Salares of Leerink Swann) is correct, they have. Merck’s presenting on the compound at the next American College of Cardiology meeting (at the end of this month in Chicago), and information from the talk has apparently leaked out in violation of the ACC's embargo. There appears to be some difficulty both on the efficacy and side effect fronts – bad news all around.
The company was aiming for a 5% weight loss, but only reached that at the highest dose (4 mg). The report is that CNS side effects were prominent at this level, twice the rate of the placebo group. The next lower dose, 2 mg, missed the efficacy endpoint and still seems to have shown CNS effects. According to Salares, nearly twice the number of patients in the drug treatment group dropped out of the trial as compared to placebo, citing neurological effects which included thoughts of suicide.
While there’s no confirmation from Merck on these figures, they’re disturbingly plausible, because that’s just the profile that got rimonabant into trouble. If this holds up, I think we can say that CB-1 ligands as a CNS therapeutic class are dead, at least until we understand a lot more about their role in the brain. Two drugs with different structures and different pharmacological profiles have now run into the same suite of unacceptable side effects, and the main thing they have in common is CB-1 receptor occupancy. There’s always the possibility that a CB-1 antagonist (or inverse agonist) might have a use out in the periphery – they could have immunomodulatory effects – but anyone who tries this out would be well advised to do it with a compound that doesn’t cross the blood-brain barrier.
And as for taranabant, if the data are as reported I don’t see how Merck can get this compound through the FDA. Even if they did, by some weird accident, I don’t see why they’d pull the pin on such a potential liability grenade. Can you imagine what the labeling would have to look like in order to try (in vain, most likely) to insulate the company from lawsuits? That makes a person wonder how on earth the company could have been talking about submitting it for approval later this year, which is what they were doing just recently. They must have had these numbers when they made that statement – wouldn’t you think? And they must have immediately realized that this would be trouble – you’d think. If that Leerink Swan report is correct, the company’s recent statements are just bizarre.
Comments (31)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Diabetes and Obesity | The Central Nervous System | Toxicology
March 10, 2008
Posted by Derek
There’s an article in the latest Nature Reviews Drug Discovery on recent drug attrition rates that caught my eye. The authors are looking over 2006-2007 trials and approvals, comparing the biotech industry with traditional pharma. ("Biotech" is defined as a company that's included in either the American Stock Exchange's biotech index and/or the NASDAQ's). In that period, the biotechs scored 47 FDA approvals (45% of the total approvals), but had 68 Phase III failures, which is 74% of that total. Pharma companies had only 5 Phase III failures during that stretch – the other 18 were biotech/pharma joint ventures, and those had a corresponding 16 approvals.
That’s food for thought, all right. The authors make much of the comparatively higher success rate for the biotech/pharma alliance compounds versus the biotechs that went it alone. I have to say, though, that the first explanation that came to my mind was one that they mention, but refer to as “cynical”: that the products which got partnered were disproportionately drawn from the list of those more likely to succeed in the first place.
But is “higher success rate for alliances” really the way to look at the data? Coming at the figures from another direction, I’d argue that “lower success rate for anything labeled biotech” would be a better fit. After all, the FDA approval/Phase III failure numbers are 47/68 for biotech, and 16/18 for biotech/pharma codevelopment, and I’d argue that those ratios are a lot closer to each other than either one is to the ratio for pure pharmaceutical companies, which was 36/5. Look at it this way: if the biotech-alone success rate was as good as the alliance one, you’d expect maybe 53 failures for those 47 successes instead of the 68 that really took place. But if biotech had the same success rate as pharma alone, those 47 winners would have been accompanied by only about 7 failures.
Cynics with a different orientation might wonder if the higher failure rate comes from a higher number of attempts on innovative drugs in biotech, as opposed to follow-ups and me-toos. But looking at another table in the same paper, where the authors split such compounds out, the me-too data in the pharma industry shows 15 FDA approvals versus 1 Phase III failure. The corresponding biotech figures show 20 approvals and 17 failures, so even the follow-on drugs have a harder time of it. (In case you're wondering, the figures from the opposite end of the spectrum, the new compound/new indication class, are 17 approvals versus 4 failures for pharma, as opposed to a toe-curling 9 approvals and 42 failures for biotech). Breaking down the numbers in another way, biotech companies had 37 out of 115 compounds in the me-too class (32%), while pharma had 16 out of 41 (39%), which isn't that big a difference.
This sort of thing is particularly interesting for someone of my age or older, because it brings back memories of the 1980s and the first big biotech boom, back when Genentech and Biogen went public and Cetus was still a going concern. The pitch back then was that biotech products were actually going to have a higher success rate, because they were, after all, mostly proteins that were already in use by the body, right? The definition of "biotech" has changed a lot since then, though - if you look at those companies in the two indices linked above, you'll notice that many of them don't work on biological products at all, but would be better classified as "small pharma". But I'm not sure if the general public appreciates that distinction. . .
Comments (29)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Business and Markets | Clinical Trials | Drug Industry History
February 27, 2008
Posted by Derek
There’s an interesting analysis in the latest PLoS Medicine on the clinical effectiveness of four modern antidepressant drugs: Prozac (fluoxetine), Effexor (venlafaxine), the partially discontinued Serzone (nefazodone), and Paxil (paroxetine). The authors compared all the published placebo-controlled studies on these drugs, and further included all the regulatory filing data. (Update: not so! See below). The result made headlines all over the place yesterday, because one of the things they found was that these drugs hardly seem, compared to placebo, to do anything at all.
Here’s the odd part: that shouldn’t have been such a big surprise. It wasn’t surprising to the authors of the paper – in fact, they started with the belief that this would be the case, because that analysis has been done before. Their interest was in seeing if there was some difference between different populations of depressed patients – is there some group for which the drugs really show efficacy or not?
As it turns out, there is, but perhaps not for the reasons you’d think. The most severely depressed cohort do seem to show a statistically meaningful response, but that seems largely because the placebo group’s response goes down. That’s been the difficulty with antidepressant clinical trials forever: there is a huge placebo response. This isn’t news; people have been studying this effect and trying to figure out what it means (or figure out a way around it) for years.
So, what does this do to the whole popular culture around the SSRI drugs – you know, “Listening to Prozac”, “Prozac Nation”, all that sort of thing? In this case, popular culture probably has it wrong. These drugs are not magical happy pills, but “Placebo Nation” just doesn’t have the same ring to it. The whole subject is too tangled to make for a catchy title.
It makes sense, though, that this is the area of drug discovery where the biggest placebo effect would turn up – you’d have to think that for depressed patients, a big step would have to be the thought that something can actually affect their condition. It’s bound to help for them to believe (correctly) that their moods aren’t necessarily part of the drab fabric of the universe, but depend instead on the (changeable) chemical weather inside their brains. Knowing those things, and the act of taking a medication that is supposed to work, is enough to help between a quarter and a half of depressed patients right there.
The actual mechanism of the placebo effect is a field of great interest and potentially great importance. (See here, here, here, and here). News like this makes a person wonder, though: if large parts of the public become convinced that antidepressant drugs don’t work, will they? And the question remains: do the SSRI drugs do anything at all through their supposed chemical mechanisms? (It's not like we know). One way to find out would be to run a placebo versus placebo trial. You could blind things at the start, even though everyone was getting the same sugar pills, and you’d presumably see the same response in each group. Then you unblind and cross everyone over, telling people that they’d been in one group and were now headed to the other. Careful work would give you four study arms: (1) people who responded to placebo, and who were then told they’d been taking sugar but were now getting the real drug, (2) people who responded and were told that they were taking a real drug but were now being switched off of it, (3) people who didn’t respond, but were told that this was because they’d been taking sugar, but help was now on the way, and (4) people who didn’t respond, and were told that they’d been getting (apparently ineffective) drug, but were now coming off even that. Fascinating stuff, but we’re going to have to wait for the North Koreans to set it up for us, because no other regulatory agency would let it through.
But from this latest analysis, we can conclude something interesting. The fact that the placebo effect diminishes in the most severely depressed patients, but that the drugs continue to show the same level of efficacy, suggests that they do have some effects of their own. To me, that’s the real news from this study. It reminds me of G. K. Chesterton’s line about journalism being the business of saying “Lord Jones Is Dead” to people who never knew he was alive. In this case, the headlines have been “Antidepressants Don’t Work”, but that should have been the headline years ago. This one should have come in as “Antidepressants Might Actually Do Something”.
Update: A closer look, as suggested in the comments section, shows that the trials included in the meta-analysis were mostly quite short (six weeks or less), when a good deal of evidence would suggest that these drugs take longer to become truly worthwhile. And there is only one study on moderate depressed patients, making it hard to draw conclusions about that group. See the comments page on the article here for more criticisms. So, do antidepressants work or not? You can find an answer that fits, no matter what you need it to be. . .
Comments (31)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | The Central Nervous System
February 8, 2008
Posted by Derek
There’s an excellent article in Nature Reviews Drug Discovery that summarizes the state of the HDL-raising drug world. It will also serve as an illustration, which can be repeated across therapeutic areas, of What We Don’t Know, and How Much We Don’t Know It.
The last big event in this drug space was the catastrophic failure of Pfizer’s torcetrapib, which wiped out deep into Phase III, taking a number of test patients and an ungodly amount of money with it. Ever since then, people have been frantically trying to figure out how this could have happened, and whether it means that the other drug candidates in this area are similarly doomed. There’s always the chance that this was a compound-specific effect, but we won’t know until we see the clinical results from those others. Until that day, if you want to know about HDL therapies, read this review.
I’d guess that if you asked a thousand random people about that Pfizer drug, most wouldn’t have heard about it, the same as with most other scientific news. But many that had might well have thought it was a cholesterol-lowering drug. Cholesterol = bad; if there’s one thing that the medical establishment has managed to get into everyone’s head, that’s it. The next layer of complexity (two kinds of cholesterol, one good, one bad) has penetrated pretty well, but not as thoroughly. A small handful of our random sample might have known, though, that torcetrapib was designed to raise HDL (“good cholesterol”).
And that’s about where knowledge of this field stops among the general population, and I can understand why, because it gets pretty ferocious after that point. As with everything else in living systems, the closer you look, the more you see. There are, for starters, several subforms of HDL, the main alpha fraction and at least three others. And there are at least four types of alpha. At least sixteen lipoproteins, enzymes, and other proteins are distributed in various ratios among all of them. We know enough to say that these different HDL particles vary in size, shape, cholesterol content, origin, distribution, and function, but we don’t know anywhere near as much as we need to about the details. There’s some evidence that instead of raising HDL across the board, what you want to do is raise alpha-1 while lowering alpha-2 and alpha-3, but we don’t really know how to do that.
How does HDL, or its beneficial fraction(s) help against atherosclerosis? We’re not completely sure about that, either. One of the main mechanisms is probably reverse cholesterol transport (RCT), the process of actually removing cholesterol from the arterial plaques and sending it to the liver for disposal. It’s a compelling story, currently thought to consist of eight separate steps involving four organ systems and at least six different enzymes. The benefits (or risks) of picking one of those versus the others for intervention are unknown. For most of those steps, we don’t have anything that can selectively affect them yet anyway, so it’s going to take a while to unravel things. Torcetrapib and the other CETP inhibitors represent a very large (and very risky) bet on what is approximately step four.
And HDL does more than reverse cholesterol transport. It also prevents platelets from aggregating and monocytes from adhering to artery walls, and it has anti-inflammatory, anti-thrombotic, and anti-oxidant effects. The stepwise mechanisms for these are not well understood, their details versus all those HDL subtypes are only beginning to be worked out, and their relative importance in HDL’s beneficial effects are unknown.
At this point, the review article begins a section titled “Further Complications”. I’ll spare you the details, but just point out that these involve the different HDL profiles (and potentially different effects) of people with diabetes, high blood pressure, and existing cardiovascular disease. If you’re thinking “But that’s exactly the patient population most in medical need”, you are correct. And if it’s occurred to you that this could mean that an HDL drug candidate’s safety profile might be even more uncertain than usual, since you won’t see these mechanisms kick in until you get deep into the clinical trials, right again. (And if you thought of that and you don’t already work in the industry, please consider coming on down and helping us out).
Much of the rest of the article is a discussion of what might have gone wrong with torcetrapib, and suffice it to say that there are many possibilities. The phrases “conflicting findings”, “remain to be elucidated”, “would be important to understand” and “will require careful analysis” feature prominently, as they damn well should. As I said at the time, we’re going to learn a lot about human lipidology from its failure, but it sure is a very painful way to learn it.
And that is the state of the art. This is exactly what the cutting edge of medical knowledge and drug discovery looks like, except for the fact that cardiovascular disease is relative well worked out compared to some of the other therapeutic areas. (Try central nervous system diseases if you want to see some real black boxes). This is what we’re up against. And if anyone wants to know how come we don’t have a good therapy yet for Disease A or Syndrome B. . .well, this is why.
Comments (3)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials | Drug Development | Toxicology
January 14, 2008
Posted by Derek
Merck and Schering-Plough have released the data on a study of genetically high-LDL patients taking a statin alone (Zocor, simvastatin) or the combination of the statin and Schering-Plough's cholesterol absorption inhibitor (Vytorin, simvastatin and ezetimibe). Vytorin has a good share of the market, and has already been shown to lower cholesterol.
And so it did this time: the Vytorin patients showed a 58% decrease in LDL, while the Zocor group showed a 41% reduction. But this trial went further, looking at the growth of atherosclerotic plaques. You'd figure that a greater decrease in LDL would mean a greater decrease in the size and growth of plaques.
You'd be wrong. The Vytorin group's carotid arteries, measured in a standard way (intima-medial thickness, IMT) came out as 0.0111 mm, while the Zocor group's came out as 0.0058 mm. This is making the headlines as "twice as bad as Zocor", but the difference actually isn't statistically significant (p = 0.29). Steve Nissen of the Cleveland Clinic is quoted as saying that this is "as bad a result for the drug as anybody could have feared", but that's not quite right. If that p value had been, say, 0.01, that would be worse. Strictly speaking, you can't call the two groups different. They don't seem to have been different in cardiovascular outcomes.
But here's the real point: that's bad enough. The whole point of Vytorin is that it's supposed to be more effective than a statin alone, and what you can say about this trial is that it sure didn't prove that. But that carotid artery thickness is definitely a concern - the numbers appear to have big error bars on them, but they're certainly not pointing in a good direction. And it's going to be difficult, perhaps impossible, to ever know if that effect is real, because it'll be mighty hard to get another trial of this sort off the ground after results like this. How can you enroll a treatment group for a drug that has been shown to have no benefit?
Well, OK, there's that LDL reduction. But the downstream clinical data (the artery measurements and outcomes) overrule that. The point of taking a cholesterol medication is not to make your lab test numbers go up and down, the point is to have fewer heart attacks and strokes. We use those blood lipid numbers as a convenient surrogate, but it's been obvious for a long time now that we have, to put it delicately, an imperfect understanding of their relevance. Data closer to real mortality and morbidity outcomes will win.
Now what? This is clearly terrible news for Merck and (especially) for Schering Plough. The companies already were under pressure for having taken so long to work up the data for this trial, which delay ended up just drawing even more attention to these bad results. Now, how do you go out and sell Vytorin (or Zetia, the cholesterol absorption inhibitor alone)? Why do insurance companies have motivation to pay for it? And when are we ever going to understand the complexities human lipid behavior and cardiology?
More on ezetimibe, written in happier days, here , here, here, and here. .
Comments (36)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials | Press Coverage
October 24, 2007
Posted by Derek
GSK opened up their books today, and the magnitude of their Avandia problem has become clear. This was a big part of the company’s sales, and the recent cardiovascular worries have really knocked down the numbers. The response, as has been the trend this year, is for the company to announce layoffs.
And man, have there ever been layoffs in the industry this year. There’s a list of the larger ones over at FierceBiotech, and it does not make for cheerful reading. In January, Pfizer announces 10,000 job cuts and closes their Ann Arbor site. That same month, Bayer-Schering closes the doors on research buildings in Connecticut and California (layoffs which were announced in 2006 and are thus not on the Fierce list). Bayer-Schering, who really should have run that B-S initial thing past a couple of native English speakers, announces 6,100 more job cuts in March. In July, AstraZeneca doubles down on its earlier layoff announcement and says that 7,600 jobs will disappear, and J&J announces a 4% reduction in its workforce (5,000 jobs). Then in August, Amgen cut over 2,000 jobs of its own.
In September, most everyone held on to the jobs for the moment But Novartis said this month that they’re going to trim over 1200 positions in the US, mostly through attrition. And now we have GSK with disappointing earnings and an announcement of unspecified layoffs, and bear in mind, this is just the news from the big outfits. The usual turmoil has been going on among the smaller companies (Idenix, Palatin, Sonus, and others), whose fortunes depend more on single drugs.
What a year – and hey, there’s still time to announce more layoffs before the holidays, so we may not be through yet. It’s tempting for some people to look at a list like this and say “Outsourcing! China! India!”. And I can’t deny that some of these jobs have headed there, just as some possible hiring expansions have been muted for the same reasons at other companies.
But outsourcing isn’t the whole story. Many of these job cuts have been in the sales forces, and they’re definitely not outsourcing the sales reps to Shanghai. Ditto for the people in Regulatory Affairs and Legal. Outsourcing is changing the size and shape of layoffs, but it’s not providing the motive force for them. That force, simply enough, is just that we’re not selling enough drugs, mostly because we don’t have enough good drugs to sell. Some areas have had too few projects even to start with (anti-infectives?), and everyone has had too few make it all the way through the clinic and the FDA.
And some of those failures have been extraordinarily large and expensive. Unfortunately, this has been the case for a while now. Over the last few years, we’ve had drugs that have failed terribly late in the clinic (torcetrapib, among others), drugs that have made it through trials but failed at the FDA (rimonabant, among others), and (most expensively of all) drugs that have made it to market and been pulled back early in their product lifetimes, after the big promotion money’s been spent and before any of it gets made back (Bayer’s Baycol and Pfizer’s Exubera – among others).
Add in the ones that never lived up to their planned potential (Iressa, Macugen, yes, yes, among others) and you have a gigantic revenue shortfall. Now, it’s true that not all of these would have made it under any conditions. Drugs fail. But do they fail like this, so relentlessly and so expensively? And it’s not that we aren’t killing all sorts of stuff off earlier in the development pipeline – no, these things are what’s left after the dogs are gone.
What to do? If I knew how to answer questions like that, I'd be dictating this from the deck of my yacht. The glass-half-full perspective is that there sure are a lot of opportunities for anything that can open up some new therapeutic areas or help with drug failure rates in the existing ones. It won't take much, considering where we're starting from. Yesterday I was encouraging people to try out some high-risk ideas, and here, in case anyone was wondering, is an excellent place for them.
Comments (13)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Business and Markets | Clinical Trials | Drug Development
July 23, 2007
Posted by Derek
Four years ago I wrote about an unusual Roche diabetes compound targeting glucokinase. The odd thing about it was that it made the enzyme more active, which is something you can only rarely hope to do. Enzymes generally run near the top of their specs, unless there's some built-in switch that keeps them damped down until they're needed. That's often phosphorylation, but another trick inside the cell is to keep the concentrations of substrate low (or the concentrations of some inhibitor high). But once they go, they usually go about as fast as they can. This glucokinase example is still about the only one I can think of in drug development, and it's had a fair amount of attention over the years.
Maybe I should switch the tense, though, because reader Daniel H. has informed me that Roche seems to have stopped work on the compound in Phase II. The company had taken their lead compound (R1440) through several different trials, so something seems to have been working, but they don't seem to have given any reasons as to why they abandoned it.
After that much Phase II work, the most likely answer is some sort of toxicity, the kind that comes up too close to the efficacious dose. A company may try several different dosing regimens, combinations with other drugs, or patient populations trying to get around a problem like that, and perhaps what we're seeing is the end of the line. Nothing looked safe enough to spend the really large money on Phase III.
By now, there are several other companies in the same area, and I'm sure they're rather curious about all this, too. Is glucokinase activation dead as a target? As with many questions in this industry, you'll have to have either a lot of money or a lot of patience to find out. And if you want to come down and try drug development yourself, you'll need a lot of both.
Comments (2)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Diabetes and Obesity | Drug Development
June 15, 2007
Posted by Derek
Everyone will have heard the news about Wednesday's FDA Advisory Commitee vote on Accomplia / Zimulti (rimonabant). If you'd tried to convince folks a few years ago that this drug wouldn't make it to a vote until summer of 2007, and would be unanimously rejected when it did, you'd have been looked at with pity and concern. No, this drug was going to conquer the world, and now people are talking merger-of-desperation.
Hey, you don't even have to go back a few years. Here's an article from 2006:
"A new anti-obesity pill that market observers say could become the world's biggest-selling drug is close to getting approval from the European Commission. . .
Gbola Amusa, an analyst with research firm Sanford C Bernstein, said that Acomplia could achieve $4.1bn in annual sales by 2010, in part because it has been shown in clinical trials not only to trim fat but to increase levels of good cholesterol and control diabetes.
"In the blue sky scenario, this could become the world's best- selling drug as the indication is so broad," he said. "It has a path to revenues that we rarely ever see from a pharma product."
Oh, the blue sky scenario. I'm no stranger to it myself - I love the blue sky scenario. But how often does it ever descend to earth? It's not going to do it this time. Sanofi-Aventis was reduced to making the suggestion that every potential patient be first screened for depression, which doesn't sound like the sort of iron wrecking ball that usually gets welded to the world's best-selling drugs.
In the wake of this development disaster, here are a few points that may not get the attention they deserve: first, consider the money that S-A has spent on this drug. We're never going to be shown an accurate accounting; no one outside the upper reaches of the company will ever see that. But I seriously doubt if they've ever spent more on any program. There's an excellent chance that most of it will never be recovered, not by rimonabant - it'll have to be recovered by whatever drugs the company can come up with in the future. They'll be priced accordingly.
Second, think about the position of their competitors. All sorts of companies have pursued this wonder blockbuster opportunity. If you run CB-1 antagonists through the databases, all kinds of stuff comes hosing out. Merck and Pfizer are the companies that were most advanced - you don't get much more advanced than Phase III clinical trials - but plenty of others spent time and money on the chase. All of those prospects have taken grievous damage. Odds are that rimonbant's problems are mechanism-related, and proving otherwise will be an expensive job. This is something to consider when you next hear about all those easy, cheap me-too drugs.
And finally, it's worth thinking about what this says about our abilities to prosecute drug development in general. Just as in the case of Pfizer's torcetrapib, we have here a huge, expensive, widely anticipated drug that comes down out of the sky because of something we didn't know about. It's going to happen again, too. Never think it won't. This is a risky, white-knuckle business, and it's going to be that way for a long time to come.
Comments (29)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Diabetes and Obesity | The Central Nervous System | Toxicology
June 11, 2007
Posted by Derek
The FDA briefing documents for Wednesday's discussion of Accomplia / Zimulti (rimonabant) have been posted, and they're an interesting read indeed. As everyone in the industry knows, this drug was once looked on as the next potential record-breaker, and writing the first part of this sentence in that verb form tells you a lot about what's happened since. It's the first antagonist targeting the cannabinoid CB-1 receptor, and at one point it looked like it was going to make people lose their excess weight, shed their addictions, and for all I know refinance their mortgages.
But then the delays hit in the US - long, long ones, delays which made fools of everyone who tried to predict when they would be over. And the drug meanwhile made it to market in Europe, where it has very quietly done not very much.
Now we may be seeing some of the reasons for the FDA'a "approvable" letter over a year ago. It's not efficacy - the FDA's briefing summary states that:
"Rimonabant 20 mg daily vs. placebo was associated with statistically and clinically
significant weight loss. Rimonabant 5 mg daily vs. placebo was associated with
statistically significant but clinically insignificant weight loss. . .rimonabant 20 mg daily vs. placebo was associated with a statistically significant 8% increase in HDL-C and a statistically significant 12% decrease in TG levels. There were no significant improvements in levels of total or LDL-C in the rimonabant 20 mg daily vs. placebo group. . .rimonabant 20 mg compared with placebo was associated with a statistically significant 0.7% reduction in HbA1c in overweight and obese subjects with type 2 diabetes taking either metformin or a sulfonylurea."
Not bad - just the sort of thing you'd want to go after the whole obesity/diabetes/cardiovascular area, you'd think. But the problem is in the side effects, and one in particular:
"The incidence of suicidality – specifically suicidal ideation – was higher for 20 mg
rimonabant compared to placebo. Similarly, the incidence of psychiatric adverse events,
neurological adverse events and seizures were consistently higher for 20 mg rimonabant compared to placebo. . ."
They're also concerned about other neurological side effects, and seizures as well. The seizure data don't look nearly as worrisome, except in the obese diabetic patients, for whom everything seems to be amplified. And all of this happens at the 20-mg dose, not at the 5 (which doesn't do much for weight, either, as noted above). And for those who are wondering, yes, on my first pass through the data, I find these statistics much more convincing than I did the ones on the Avandia (rosiglitazone) association with cardiac events.
I had my worries about rimonabant a long time ago, but not for any specific reason. It's just that I used to work on central nervous system drugs, and you have to be ready for anything. Any new CNS mechanism, I figured, might well set off some things that no one was expecting, given how little we understand about that area.
But isn't it good to finally hear what the arguing is about? Sanofi-Aventis has been relentlessly tight-lipped about everything to do with the drug. I can see why, after looking at the FDA documents, but this isn't a problem that's going to go away by not talking about it. The advisory committee meeting is Wednesday. Expect fireworks.
Comments (11)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials | Diabetes and Obesity | The Central Nervous System | Toxicology
June 4, 2007
Posted by Derek
We have a new phrase to toss around in in the industry: "Phase Zero". That's what they're calling a recent trial of an anticancer drug from Abbott (ABT-888), which was tested in humans before any safety dosing (Phase I) had been done.
So, how exactly can you do that? By giving extremely small amounts of the drug, that's how, and looking to see if you can detect a change in some marker for eventual efficacy. In this case, the marker was inhibition of the activity of PARP, poly(ADP-ribose) polymerase, which is involved in the cellular response to DNA damage. Inhibiting it should make cells much more likely to die once such damage had been detected, which one of many such signals that cancer cells tend to ignore under normal conditions. Abbott's drug seemed to do the trick, so work on it will continue.
The good part of this is that the drug got into humans more quickly than usual, and that its mechanism of action has now been verified (to a first degree of approximation, anyway - it hits the target). This should make a company a bit more confident about moving on to larger trials, and could potentially weed out losers early in the game.
But there are bad parts, too. For one thing, the patients in a phase zero trial have no hope of benefit from the drug: the dose is just too small. The small doses could give results that (for better or worse) aren't relevant to the later real-world ones, too. Another problem is that reliable biomarkers are thin on the ground despite great sums of money being spent to find and validate them. If you're going to let the future of your drug ride on one of these trials, you'd better be confident that you know what it's telling you. (And if you're not going to let the future of the drug ride on a phase zero trial, why are you running one, eh?)
What would be worth knowing is how many drugs fail because of lack of effect on their intended target, as opposed to those which hit the target but still have no effect. You'd also want to know: of that first group, what portion are going to be amenable to robust biomarker studies. Those two fractions would tell you how much of an impact this whole idea will have. Right now, I think the error bars are way too large to make a prediction. . .
Comments (10)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cancer | Clinical Trials
June 3, 2007
Posted by Derek
Today's New York Times had a long front-page story from Janet Roberts and the paper's Scourge of the Drug Industry, Gardiner Harris. Titled "After Sanctions, Doctors Get Drug Company Pay", it details (through the example of one particular Minnesota psychiatrist) a practice of physicians who have had medical board problems continuing to get money for participating in clinical studies.
Dr. Faruk Abuzzahab has definitely had his run-ins with the medical authorities. And over the years he's also definitely had payments from various companies. It's not a story to make you feel warm and fuzzy, that's for sure. There are some things about it that puzzle me, though. For one thing, it appears that Abuzzahab is no bargain as a clinical investigator:
"Separately, the F.D.A. in 1979 and 1984 concluded that Dr. Abuzzahab had violated the protocols of every study he led that they audited, and reported inaccurate data to drug makers. He routinely oversaw four to eight drug trials simultaneously, often moved patients from one study to another, sometimes gave experimental medicines to patients at their first consultation, and once hospitalized a patient for the sole purpose of enrolling him in a study, the F.D.A. found. . .
A simple Google search reveals Dr. Abuzzahab’s 1998 medical board disciplinary file, which was reported at the time by a local newspaper and a TV station. In 1998, The Boston Globe featured Dr. Abuzzahab in a front-page article questioning the safety of psychiatric drug experiments. And in 1999, the NBC program “Dateline” did a segment about a woman who committed suicide while in a drug experiment he supervised.
In June 2006, the medical board criticized Dr. Abuzzahab, this time for writing narcotics prescriptions for patients he knew were using false names, a violation of federal narcotics laws.
Despite all this, drug makers continued to hire him. Dr. Abuzzahab’s résumé lists 11 publications or research presentations since 2000, when the medical board lifted its restrictions on his license."
Well, I haven't seen the guy's résumé, but a PubMed search shows only one paper since that year, and only one other since 1983. His publication record thins out drastically after the early 1980s; this is not someone who cares about blazing across the sky of the scientific literature.
What exactly does he care about, though? Money? According to the graphic that accompanies the story, Abuzzahab received $55,000 from several drug companies over an eleven-year period. That's better than a kick in the ankle, but it doesn't seem like enough cash to turn a busy psychiatrist's head, either. I've not had the opportunity to find out if I can be bought or not, fortunately, but I can tell you this: it would take more than five grand a year to do it.
And just what is it that GSK, Wyeth, J&J and the other companies who've paid him are hoping to get? The first thought is that they're hoping to influence his prescribing habits, because it doesn't sound as if the clinical data he's generating are worth all that much. Is that amount of money enough to do it? Presentations by a well-known and well-respected figure could also be expected to influence the scrip-writing of others, but Dr. Abuzzahab doesn't seem, in recent years, to have been that kind of person.
No, this sort of thing doesn't look good at all. The Times story gives a reader the impression that companies are disproportionately funding physicians with disciplinary problems, although there's no evidence to back that up. But the funding should be disproportionate in the other direction, which doesn't seem to be the case. Not good, not good at all.
Comments (5)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | The Dark Side | Why Everyone Loves Us
May 31, 2007
Posted by Derek
GlaxoSmithKline is breaking out the data to respond to the Nissen and Wolski NEJM paper on the possible cardiovascular risks of Avandia (rosiglitazone). In a letter published by The Lancet (PDF), the company's chief medical officer, Ronald Krall, defends the drug (and the company):
"GlaxoSmithKline did similar meta-analyses in 2005 and 2006 and found hazard ratios in the same direction as Nissen and Wolski. However, all these results are highly dependent on the methods used and the studies included, given the small number of events reported. For example, the actual number of myocardial infarctions in the Nissen and Wolski meta-analysis yields a very low frequency of events (0·6%), and the absolute difference in rates of myocardial infarctions between rosiglitazone and controls is less than 0·1%.
These observations support a view expressed by Nissen and Wolski them-selves: “a meta-analysis is always considered less convincing than a large prospective trial designed to assess the outcome of interest.”
He then goes back over the data in the three large trials that bear on the question. Reanalyzed data from the ADOPT study still do not show a statistically meaningful cardiovascular risk for rosiglitazone versus the other two diabetes drugs in the trial (metformin and glibenclamide). (There's no placebo group - this is one of those head-to-head comparisons of a drug versus its strongest competitors, a type of study that some people believe never takes place). The second completed study, DREAM, looked at co-administration of rosiglitazone and the ACE inhibitor ramapril. There were four groups - placebo only, rosi and placebo, ramapril and placebo, and rosi plus ramapril. The first three showed no difference in cardiovascular events, but the last one did, for unknown reasons.
These two studies are in the Nissen/Wolski meta-analysis, of course, but as I noted originally, it was the sum of the smaller studies that gave them their cardiovascular warning. But when the statistically less powerful trials show one thing that isn't borne out by the larger ones, the issue is (at the very least) still in doubt. The letter also points out that the company's database mining of managed-care patients taking rosi has shown no increase in cardiovascular risks.
Other controlled studies are ongoing, the (now highly awaited) RECORD and another one called ACCORD. Both are designed from the start to address cardiovascular outcomes (which are a major complication in diabetic patients). Krall's letter lifts the veil a tiny bit on RECORD, saying that the independent review board has now completed an interim analysis of its cardiovascular data and concluded that the trial should continue. This would not be the case, you'd have to presume, were the numbers to clearly show increased CV deaths in the treatment group.
My take on this is that the company has a pretty strong case so far, certainly strong enough to wait for the ongoing trials to settle the issue. What never fails to disappoint me, though, is the way that stories like this are jammed into ready-made templates. Depending on the editorial writer, the appearance of the NEJM paper became "FDA Corrupt, Broken: Snores While Dangerous Drugs Kill Thousands", or "Giant Drug Company Sells Heart Attack Poison, Doesn't Give Hoot". Or maybe just "Drug Approval System Completely Broken - Again".
Now, Steve Nissen does sound the alarm a lot, but I have no doubt that his intentions are honorable. His paper, to me, was the equivalent of saying "Hey, you people may have a problem here. Did you know that?" GSK's response, then is "Yeah, we've looked at that, too, but we don't see it. Are you sure your numbers are good?" Meanwhile, the studies which should answer the question for good are already years into their runs. If this is our standard for a broken drug approval system, we've certainly become mighty fastidious over the years. For what it's worth, The Lancet agrees.
Comments (11)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials | Diabetes and Obesity | Press Coverage
May 29, 2007
Posted by Derek
Here's a question for people working in the industry: when you see your own company's press releases, just how close to reality do you feel they come? Could someone wanting to invest in your company's stock form an accurate picture of your drug pipeline's potential by reading them, or not?
I ask because (in my experience) the answer to that second question is very much in doubt. There are several reasons: First, from what I've seen, many companies have their official pipelines cluttered with compounds that aren't being developed - at least, not in the same way that the really important ones are. (Projects can get sent "into the clinic" for many reasons, not all of them productive). And canceled projects often linger on the list before they're removed, too. A dedicated reader of the company's SEC filings and press releases can work some of these things out, but no one makes it easy.
Then there are the press releases about specific projects, which. . .well, they're press releases, if you know what I mean. The bad news is skulking in a subordinate clause somewhere in the fifth paragraph, while the good news is up on stage, expensive spotlights reflecting off its refined makeup and tasteful clothes. This isn't a particular failing of the drug industry; it's a failing of press releases (or, more likely, of human nature).
This has a bearing on the issue of disclosure of clinical trial information, naturally. I think that we're moving toward some sort of standardized disclosure, and that there's little that can be done (in the long run) to stop it. I think the positives outweigh the negatives, although it's not as easy a match to score as you'd guess. (Lack of knowledge of statistics, to pick one big issue, could make the whole thing a pile of dry wood for fools to make bonfires of). More on this in a future post. . .
Comments (12)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Business and Markets | Clinical Trials
May 24, 2007
Posted by Derek
Steve Nissen has (once again) made waves with an analysis of cardiovascular risk. This time the subject is Avandia (rosiglitazone), a therapy for diabetes that's the oldest PPAR-gamma drug on the market. A meta-analysis of 42 reported clinical trials of the drug led to the conclusion that rosiglitazone is associated with a statistically significant risk of cardiac events.
The similarities to the Vioxx situation are what have made headlines (and what sent GlaxoSmithKline's stock down about 8% on the day the paper was released). But there are some important differences. Merck's ran into the Vioxx numbers in their own clinical data - the arguing has been whether they recognized the effects earlier (or should have), but it was a specific trial of theirs that led to the statistics that sank the drug. A meta-analysis is a much different beast, since you're trying to fit a large number of different trials, run in different ways for different reasons, into the same framework. Not everyone trusts them, even when the analysis is performed by someone as competent as Nissen, who does mention the limitations of the approach in the paper:
"Our study has important limitations. We pooled the results of a group of trials that were not originally intended to explore cardiovascular outcomes. Most trials did not centrally adjudicate cardiovascular outcomes, and the definitions of myocardial infarction were not available. Many of these trials were small and short-term, resulting in few adverse cardiovascular events or deaths. Accordingly, the confidence intervals for the odds ratios for myocardial infarction and death from cardiovascular causes are wide, resulting in considerable uncertainty about the magnitude of the observed hazard. Furthermore, we did not have access to original source data for any of these trials. Thus, we based the analysis on available data from publicly disclosed summaries of events. The lack of availability of source data did not allow the use of more statistically powerful time-to-event analysis. A meta-analysis is always considered less convincing than a large prospective trial designed to assess the outcome of interest."
And that's what's happening here. A number of people at large diabetes treatment centers aren't ready to buy into a cardiovascular risk for Avandia yet, because they're wary of the statistics. There's a large cardiovascular outcome trial of the drug going on now, which won't wrap up until 2009, but several people seem to want to wait for that as a more definitive answer.
If Nissen's data hold up - and statistically, I'm definitely not up to the task of evaluating his approach - then we might be looking at a Vioxx-like risk level. Out of some 14,000 patients on the drug in the various studies, there were 86 heart attacks in the treatment groups, and 72 in the controls. That comes out to be statistically significant, but (as you can see) the problem is that Type II diabetics have a high background rate of CV problems. Looking at Nissen's Table IV, it also seems clear that most of the significance he's found comes from the pooling of the smaller studies. The larger trials are nowhere near as clear-cut, which makes you wonder if this effect is real or an artifact.
I'm certainly not prepared to say one way or another, and I just hope that the ongoing trial settles the question. It's certainly not unreasonable to imagine a PPAR gamma drug having this side effect, but if this were a strong mechanism-based phenomenon the numbers would surely be stronger. If a risk is confirmed, though, we'll then be faced with a risk-benefit question. Does the glycemic control that Avandia provides lead to enough good outcomes to offset any cardiovascular risk over a large population? If you think getting the current numbers is a tough job, wait until you try to work that one out.
Comments (19)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials | Diabetes and Obesity | Toxicology
April 13, 2007
Posted by Derek
I've been out of the research labs for over two months now, and you know what I miss the most? No, not the safety meetings (hah!) or the smell of the solvents - what I miss is getting fresh data on experiments. Waiting for results on something crucial is hard to take, but it's also exciting, and there's nothing I've found outside of science that compares.
I've sat at my desk holding a warm printout from an LC/MS, or with a newly arrived e-mail from the biologists, and I swear, I've closed my eyes for a moment before I've looked at them. That's the last moment of not knowing; after that you're living in the new world that the experiment made. I don't know what I'd do with a job that didn't have that feeling in it, and honestly, that's one reason I'm still looking.
It occurs at all sorts of levels - checking the NMR to see if your reaction worked or not, waiting for the PK results to see if your idea raised the blood levels, holding your breath when the compound goes into two-week tox testing. And beyond that things get really terrifying, when human data start coming in from the clinic.
Ask Vertex. I wrote here about their antiviral compound (telaprevir, VX-950) for hepatitis. It's a huge market that really needs a better drug, and a lot of people have taken swings at it. Well, on Saturday night in Barcelona, the company is presenting their latest clinical data, and investors are checking their heart rates. The drug's success would be the biggest event in the history of the company (and a huge advance in hepatitis therapy), and failure (the antiviral norm, unfortunately) would be very, very hard to take.
The company's top clinicians already know the answer, of course, because a person's got to have time to make slides. They've had the experience I was talking about, on a scale that few people have ever felt. You click a button, turn a page, and the future writes itself out there in front of you. . .
Comments (10)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Infectious Diseases | Who Discovers and Why
March 26, 2007
Posted by Derek
Amgen served up a nasty surprise on Friday with the results of a trial they're running on their Vectibix (panitumumab) cancer therapy. It's an EGFR inhibitor (same space as Imclone's Erbitux) and this trial was the first to test a "dual biologics" approach to colon cancer. One group got the standard of care (oxaliplatin and irinotecan chemotherapy, plus Genentech's Avastin VEGF inhibitor), and other other got that plus Vectibix.
Unfortunately, in one of those unexpected results that cancer trials are always delivering, the two-protein-therapeutics group actually showed slightly worse survival data than did the standard-of-care group, and that takes care of that. By itself, this result isn't enough to call Vectibix a failure by any means. But its expected rise to overshadow Erbitux has clearly been delayed.
Imclone's stock price reflects this. Does it ever - my modest short position in their stock is now underwater good and proper. Their stock's up 45% so far this year, with a lot of that in just the last two weeks. But these are early days (he said to himself abstractedly, looking out the window with his brokerage statement in his lap). Both drugs are in similar Phase III trials against colorectal cancer (as that first link, to Bioworld Today, details) and eventually we're going to have about as good a head-to-head comparison as you can expect in this area. Whether that'll be enough to decide anything, well. . .
Comments (7)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Business and Markets | Cancer | Clinical Trials
March 22, 2007
Posted by Derek
Jim Hu has a good post on some proposed new FDA rules for its advisory panel members. Some sort of changes have been coming for a while now - here's an op-ed that I wrote on the subject back in 2005. I argued that many of the best scientists and clinicians in a given field already work with the industry (which isn't such a bad thing when you think about it), and that restrictive requirements for serving on advisory panels could do more harm than good.
Well, here's the new proposal: the cutoff is $50,000 in the previous 12 months. At that or above, you won't be allowed on the panel. Between $1 (presumably) and $50,000, you can sit on the panel, but won't be allowed to vote. My guess is that that's going to have a pretty big impact if it goes through, and that we're going to see some very different committee rosters.
Or, of course, maybe we're going to see some new forms of relationships between drug companies and their consultants. That's what happens whenever efforts are made to regulate money in the political world, and it wouldn't surprise me a bit here. There are two ways to look at this: if you're suspicious of the FDA's motives (like, say, Rep. Maurice Hinchley of New York, who has a bill mandating these changes and more coming along), then you'll probably see the whole process as a form of organized bribery, wheel-greasing to get defective drugs past the regulatory authorities. Another way to look at it, though, is that outside experts have something that the drug companies need (expertise, and more importantly, expertise from another point of view than the one from inside the company), and that they're willing to pay for it. This may seem odd, but these consultants don't always tell us what we want to hear.
The tough part is when a drug is on the edge of getting approved or not - it has some good points, some bad ones, and the decision could go either way. That's when suspicions are raised that an extra $50,000 here and there is what tipped things over to approval. I don't see that happening, myself (although readers are invited to submit counterexamples). Many approvals can be honestly argued either way, because these medical questions are inherently one big grey area.
The media reaction to this story is rather more toward the former point of view, though. The Washington Post's take on the story is that ". . .the new guidelines implicitly acknowledge what critics have long said -- that it is possible to find enough qualified experts who do not have ties to drug and device manufacturers." And Gardiner Harris in the New York Times gives one sentence to someone at the American Enterprise Institute, while leaving plenty of space for words from Rep. Hinchley and my own representative, Rosa DeLauro, both of whom are good places to go for "corporate poisoners" quotes.
Well, this is the first act of a rather long session of political theatre. There are 60 days of public comment on this proposal, then more wrangling comes along after that. Then there are the bills in the House, which if things go on long enough will get thrown into the next election cycle, and on it goes. It's worth watching, but be ready for a protracted show.
Comments (5)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Drug Development | Press Coverage | The Dark Side | Why Everyone Loves Us
March 20, 2007
Posted by Derek
Pfizer's enormous torcetrapib failure last fall wasn't the only time a company has come to grief in the cardiovascular area, and it's not going to be the last one, either. That's been proven this week by a much smaller company, Atherogenics, and their lead drug, AGI-1067 (partnered with AstraZeneca).
The company is targeting expression of the VCAM-1 protein in blood vessels. That's an immunoglobin that seems to be involved in the adhesion of various blood cell types to the vessel walls, and as such is considered a very interesting target for atherosclerosis. AtheroGenics has been working on a series of drug candidates that interfere with the expression of VCAM-1 (through blocking an oxidative pathway in the endothelial cells) and could thus slow the development of arterial plaques (or reduce the size of plaques that had already formed).
Such is the hope, anyway. AGI-1067 behaved well in animal models, and went through numerous Phase I trials in combination with other cardiovascular agents. That link will also take you through the Phase IIa and IIb trials, which showed some real effects in reduction of plaque volume. Those results led to this Phase III trial (with the acronymn ARISE), which expanded the number and variety of patients while looking at real-world endpoints.
That's just how things should work. You see if the drug is tolerated, alone and with the therapies it's going to be given with. Then you check some primary endpoints, to see if the mechanism you're targeting is really being affected. Finally, you see if that's actually going to do a real number of patients any good: I, II, and III. And, unfortunately, III is where the Atherogenics drug ran into trouble.
They missed their primary endpoint, which was a composite score of cardiovascular adverse events - death, heart attack, stroke, angina, etc. Overall, AGI-1067 was no better than placebo when given along with the standard drugs for this patient population. There's no way to call that good news, and no one's even trying. At the same time, though, the company claims to have seen positive effects in some disease states. What subgroups those are, and how positive those effects were, won't be known until next week's meeting of the American College of Cardiology in New Orleans. It's impossible to say if this is just wishful thinking, or a drug worth salvaging.
That's just what the people at AstraZeneca have to decide. The company's pipeline could use some help (not that this distinguishes them very much these days), so they don't want to walk away from something promising. At the same time, they can't afford to throw good development money after bad, either. But the stakes are much, much higher for AtheroGenics, since this physiological pathway is basically the platform for the entire company. There are doubtless some very difficult and unpleasant meetings in progress, not the tiniest bit of fun for anyone involved. My. . .well, heart, goes out to everyone involved. . .
Comments (7)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials | Drug Development
February 7, 2007
Posted by Derek
Antiviral drugs are one of those big unmet medical needs that we talk about in the drug industry. The reason we talk about them is, of course, that from a business standpoint - and this is a business, for sure - "unmet need" is equivalent to "unmade profit".
The problem is, the reason that some of these big opportunities are unclaimed is that they're not easy to address. As I've said here before, one big problem with antivirals is that there are a very limited number of good targets for drugs. After all, viruses are pretty stripped-down to start with: they do a limited number of things, but they do them very well indeed. Compared to a relatively target-rich therapeutic area like cancer, infectious disease is a desert.
One well-known oasis, though, contains the viral proteases. Many viruses carry these as a key part of their machinery, to help "unpack" necessary proteins from larger precursors. Famously, that's how many of the anti-HIV drugs work, and the same general strategy should be applicable to several other viral types.
Hepatitis C has been one of the big targets for many years now. Various development programs have come and gone, but no one has been able to really nail this one. Vertex is now in the middle of trying to, and as Adam Feuerstein points out, they're really betting a large part of the company on the attempt. Over the next few months, results should start coming out for their PROVE trials of telaprevir (VX-950), and for Vertex's sake, the drug had better work. A herd of competitors, probably led by Schering-Plough, is ready to take over should anything slip.
"Work" is defined as "work well enough so that people don't have to take injections of interferon". That'll depend, as always, on the balance of efficacy and toxicity, and it's the side effect profile that everyone will be watching, since it's widely assumed that the drug will in fact do some good against the disease. The nerve-wracking thing about working for a small-to-medium sized company has always been that your future ends up depending on single events like this, and I wish everyone at Vertex good luck. (Of course, as people at Pfizer will tell you, your future even at a gigantic company can end up depending on the results of one clinical trial - this industry is getting altogether too exciting for a lot of people to take).
Comments (12)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Infectious Diseases
January 10, 2007
Posted by Derek
After yesterday's post, several people brought up the issue of inverted screening cascades. What happens when your compound works better in the mice than it did in the cells? Worse, what if it would have worked in the mice, but you never put it in there because it was so weak in the cell assays?
These kinds of questions are worth worrying about, because we almost never get a chance to answer them. For obvious reasons, the vast majority of compounds that make it into animal models are ones that looked good in the earlier steps. You'd have to think that the hit rate in vivo would be much lower for the dud compounds, but you'd have to be pretty arrogant to think that it would be zero, too.
As I recall (and I was just down the hall when it happened), the discovery of Schering-Plough's cholesterol absorption inhibitor came out of a compound that made it into an animal model and worked well, even though it turned out later to be a loser at the project's original target. (I believe that the in vitro assay was down that week for some reason, but one of my former colleagues will probably set me straight if I'm wrong about that). This sort of thing is food for thought, all right, extreme example though it might be. Even if your compounds don't suddenly hit a new target, there's still room for plenty of surprises in pharmacokinetics and the like.
But it would be unethical just to shove everything into animals, tempting though it is sometimes. And it would cost an insane amount, too - let's not forget that. But I do advocate getting as close to the real disease as quickly as possible. You can really waste time and effort by over-optimizing in vitro, all the time convincing yourself that you're doing the right thing.
Then there's the ultimate question in this line: how many compounds are there that don't work well in the animal models, but would be good in humans? I've wondered about this for many years, and I'm going to go on wondering, because data points are mighty scarce. Human biomarkers might eventually lead to some companies crossing their fingers and going into man with a compound that they expect to outdo the animal models. But it's going to take a lot of nerve. (And here's another complication - those upside surprises that might show up in the animals? How many of those are going to translate to humans, do you think? Not all of them, clearly. . .)
I have no doubt that there are many potentially useful drugs that are abandoned early. False negatives are probably on the shelves all around us. I don't see that as a strong argument against animal use (what, after all, is the alternative?), but it sure isn't a big argument for it, either. It's just, for now, the way things are.
Comments (11)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Drug Assays | Drug Development
December 11, 2006
Posted by Derek
Since I've been getting some more less-than-friendly email from Kevin Trudeau fans recently, I thought I'd take a minute to point out something that may not have been generally appreciated. What does the complete failure of a drug like Pfizer's torcetrapib say about the evil-pharma conspiracy theories that Trudeau and his type like to spin?
I mean, think it through: Pfizer spends hundreds of millions of dollars, only to find that their drug has unexpected toxicity. Not the horrible, chemical-weapon toxicity that the conspiracy mongers talk about, mind you: 11 deaths per thousand versus 6 deaths per thousand. But development stops immediately, as it should, the very day that Pfizer's executives get the news. Two days after trumpeting the compound as the biggest thing in their pipeline, they pull it and walk away from the billions of dollars that could have been.
How, exactly, does this fit the Evil Conspiracy worldview? Isn't this, according to Trudeau, exactly the same as all the other drugs already on the market? Why would a company walk away from all that cash just because of a measly little figure like 5 excess patient deaths per thousand? If you believe Kevin Trudeau, everyone who takes anything is being poisoned already.
I know I'm going to regret making this offer, but here goes: I'd be interested in hearing a Trudeau-ite explain this one to me. If you buy into his story, why any drug ever fails in the clinic must be a real head-scratcher, since you'd think that the Evil Pharma Overlords would be able to hocus the data enough to make any sort of toxic junk look good. And this one must seem especially weird.
So tell me, you folks who are convinced that I and all my colleagues in the drug industry are poisoning the world: why did torcetrapib fail? Ground rules: you have to know what torcetrapib is, and you have to have some basic understanding of what it was (in theory) supposed to do. ("Improve cholesterol to try to prevent heart attacks" is enough of an answer for that one - there's a free one for you). And you have to be able to spell Pfizer, and to have read at least one news story about the drug's demise. Have at it in the comments section.
Comments (55)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials | Snake Oil
December 4, 2006
Posted by Derek
One thing that the Pfizer debacle makes you wonder about is: were they trying too hard? Torcetrapib seems to have done a fine job raising HDL on its own - so it was only natural to think of combining it with an LDL-lowering statin. If it turns out, though, that the fatal problems that have turned up were the result of the combination therapy, what then? Will the story be that Pfizer brought the roof down on itself by trying to extend the profitable lifetime of Lipitor?
It turns out that we can answer that question. What if the compound had been developed by a company that didn't have a statin of its own to promote? We don't have to wonder: that's the situation with the Roche/JTT compound. Roche has no statin in its stable. But when you look at the trials they they've been running, well. . .
. . .patients will be randomized to receive either CETP inhibitor (900mg po) or placebo po daily for 24 weeks, with concomitant atorvastatin 10 to 80 mg daily. . .
. . .This study will evaluate the efficacy and safety of three doses of CETP Inhibitor when co-administered with pravastatin. . .
. . .Patients eligible to participate in the extension study will continue on the treatment they were originally assigned to ie CETP inhibitor (900mg po) or placebo daily, with concomitant daily atorvastatin (10 to 80mg po). . .
So why the constant statin drumbeat? There's actually a good reason. As it happens, monotherapy trials of torcetrapib seemed to show that it could lower LDL a bit on its own - but only in patients without high triglycerides. Unfortunately, most of the patient population for the drug has high triglycerides, so there you are. You could always try to make the argument that HDL elevation alone might be beneficial, but no one's quite sure if that would be enough, especially given that lowered LDL has been shown to be beneficial in cardiac outcomes.
Roche, of course, is at the moment just packed with people who'd like to know what (if anything) there is about the statin/CETP combination that could turn awful. I wonder how long it'll be before we find out?
Comments (10)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials | Toxicology
December 3, 2006
Posted by Derek
This is a complete clinical disaster: the world's largest drug company just ditched their potential biggest drug. And this comes two days after a press conference where they talked about how they were planning to submit it for approval within months. Development of torcetrapib, the cholesteryl-ester transfer protein inhibitor designed to raise HDL levels, has been halted. Last week, that sentence would have been the subject of nightmares at Pfizer, but now it's the top of the news. No alarm clock buzz will make it go away. If you're looking for an example of just how difficult drug development is, look no more.
The story broke on Saturday: the 15,000-patient trial that was underway (half on Lipitor, half on Lipitor plus torcetrapib) showed excess deaths in the combination group (82 versus 51). That figure's impossible to ignore or explain away, and now the problem will be to explain what caused it. There are other CETP inhibitors in development, such as JTT-705 (from Japan Tobacco and Roche) and one from Merck as well. Both these companies have just had a tremendous shock, since we don't know (yet) if the patient deaths were due to CETP inhibition itself, the combination of it with the HMG CoA reductase inhibition of the statin, an off-target effect of torcetrapib with the statin, or just an off-target effect of the drug on its own. I'm sure that intense reviews of all the clinical data are going on. Things just got much more complicated.
As for Pfizer, they now have a monstrous hole in their near-term pipeline. Looking back, they've had a terrible run the last couple of years, with a number of promising drugs dropping on them, but nothing compared to this. I don't think anyone's had one to compare with this, at least in terms of the expectations for a drug. I was just talking with some people from the company last week (along with many of my colleagues), looking into employment possibilities. After this, I think we may have to keep moving. I don't think that Pfizer's going to be in the mood for hiring.
Comments (50)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials
October 26, 2006
Posted by Derek
The late-stage clinical failure of a small company/big company drug partnership story gets told over and over, and today it was the turn of Renovis and AstraZeneca. Renovis had come up with a candidate (NXY-059) for post-stroke therapy that targeted free-radical oxidative damage. Initial clinical trials were fairly positive, but this latest one, a larger and more rigorous effort, totally failed to demonstrate any benefits for the drug.
They've got plenty of company. I've lost count of the number of neuroprotective drug candidate failures I've heard about during my time in industry. It's humbling, like much of drug discovery is when you look at it closely. I mean, if you get your information from the newspapers or (God help you) television news segments, you'd think that we know just how tissues are damaged after an event like a stroke, which means we know just how to block the process, so all it takes it just sending in some drug to keep it from happening. The folks in the lab coats should be whipping one right out any day now.
Nope. Hasn't worked out. Excitatory glutamate toxicity for example, was all the rage about ten years ago, but a number of Phase II and III wipeouts showed that even if these drugs could work (a big if), they would have to be given very, very quickly, which isn't clinically realistic. Since that run of failures, a new set of standards were developed to try to improve the quality of clinical candidates and trials in the field. The Renovis drug is one of the first to come in under those criteria, but little good did they do in this case. Neuroprotection is hard.
Comments (6)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials | The Central Nervous System
September 25, 2006
Posted by Derek
Looking through my files, I found a chart which I clipped out of Genetic Engineering News back in late 2004 or so. It's a table of expected drug launches and sales potentials, based on data from Mehta Partners (a well-known and often-quoted pharmaceutical-sector investment and consulting firm).
Now that we're in the last quarter of 2006, this little document has gone from looking hopeful to looking downright creepy. The Y axis is sales potential, divided into eight tiers, and the X axis is a timeline, quarter-by-quarter. Let's take it from the upper left corner and look at the expected big winners from 2005 and 2006:
Macugen: Expected launch 1Q 05, sales potential 1.25 to 1.5 billion. The reality: the launch went off pretty much as expected, but the sales, well. . .they're running at about 10% of that peak estimate. OSI bought the drug's developer, Eyetech, and people wondered at the time what they were thinking. Maybe they're wondering now, too. . .
Indiplon: Expected launch 4Q 05, sales potential 1.25 to 1.5 billion. The reality: oh, dear. Neurocrine is trying to go it alone until they find a new partner, and they're still in there pitching, but this has been a real development disaster.
Let's pause a moment to note that both of these were printed in green type, which the chart helpfully informs us were considered "low risk" at the time. After meditating on the implications of that statement, we move on to:
Edifoligide: Expected launch 4Q 05, sales potential 1.25 to 1.5 billion. The reality: Aaargh. The drug, an oligonucleotide "decoy" designed to tie up a particular set of transcription factors involved in vein graft failure, completely missed its clinical endpoints in a major trial. Bristol-Meyers Squibb dropped it; its developer (Corgentech) went through a near-death experience and emerged with a changed name and an (appropriate) focus on pain management.
Accomplia: Expected launch 1st half 06, sales potential 1.5 to 2.75 billion. The reality: the drug is slowly, slowly creeping into the market in Europe. But no one has any idea of when it might be approved in the US (where most of that money is going to be made, if it ever is), and Sanofi-Aventis has been extraordinarily uncommunicative on the issue. It won't be 2006, that's for sure. Next year? That's what they thought last year. . .
Plavix (for Japanese market): Expected launch 1st half 06, sales potential 1.25 to 1.5 billion. The reality: they made it in May of this year, but the cost has been heavy. And, of course, Plavix and its profits have been making the news for other reasons entirely.
Asoprisnil: Expected launch 2nd half 06, sales potential 1.25 to 1.5 billion. The reality: who knows? Takeda/Abbott and Schering, after some clinical difficulties, have written off 2006 and refuse to say when the uterine bleeding drug might be submitted for approval. Judging from the lack of recent statements, the outlook isn't good.
Not a pretty picture. Just think of how many investment decisions were made based on forecasts like this - it's enough to give you the shivers. But I'm not really blaming Mehta Partners for this - after all, they did what they could with the information they had from the companies involved. And the companies aren't completely to blame, either - many of them really believed that these things were going to work, or at least do better than they have, and they put a lot of their own money on those opinions. No, it's hard to find someone to take the entire fall. Research and development ishard.
Comments (4)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Drug Development
September 17, 2006
Posted by Derek
Novartis has been looking pretty impressive lately. They've announced promising data for their odd immunosuppresive drug Fingolimod (FTY720) in multiple sclerosis therapy. The study isn't very large (255 patients), but the statistics versus placebo look pretty strong. The compound is also showing promise in transplantation, and no doubt the company is looking into other autoimmune disorders as well.
I should note that the drug's target (which appears to be a sphingosine phosphate receptor) wasn't known for many years. It started out as a structural variation on another compound with known effects, it but turned out to have a different (and more useful) profile. This one, if it works, will be more a triumph of persistance and deep pockets rather than drug design, but we'll take 'em where we can get 'em.
The company also has reported data on a new bisphosphonate (Aclasta, aka Reclast) for osteoporosis, notable because it's only dosed once a year. This one had over seven thousand patients, followed for three years, so it's a substantial piece of work, with what appear to be very strong statistics indeed. Novartis appears ready to hammer Fosamax (aledendronate), which has been coining money for Merck for many years now, since they specifically studied a subgroup of patients who were switched from that drug.
One of the notable things about these two drugs is that they're addressing chronic, slow-moving diseases with difficult clinical endpoints. These therapeutic areas are tough to work with in the clinic, and very costly to explore. There are many companies in the industry that would immediately try to outlicense a new osteoporosis clinical candidate rather than try to develop it themselves. You won't see many small biotechs trying to go it alone in areas like this, that's for sure.
So even though I make fun of Pfizer (especially) for being too huge, Novartis is one of the counterexamples. They (along with Merck and GlaxoSmithKline) show that size can have advantages, if you use some of that muscle in the research buildings. FIguring out why some large research organizations are more productive than others, and what part of that isn't due just to chance, has stumped better pundits than me, though. . .
Comments (5)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Business and Markets | Clinical Trials
August 14, 2006
Posted by Derek
The New England Journal of Medicine has published an authoritative wrap-up of the Tegenero/TGN1412 case. This, you'll remember, was the T-cell stimulating antibody trial that went disastrously wrong, sending six first-in-man voluteers into intensive care. (They remained there for one to three weeks, but all of them survived). As minor side effects, this event also sent the company into bankruptcy and the drug candidate straight down the waste chute.
The article makes for grim reading, and I'd be interested to hear what some of the med-bloggers have to say about it. I'm no MD, but the patient charts on admission to the ICU look pretty terrifying to me - pulmonary and renal failure, coagulation throughout the vasculature, severe (and surprising) near-total loss of lymphocytes and monocytes, and much, much more. The phrase "empirical treatment" shows up a lot in the account of their cases, which I take to mean "what seemed reasonable, since we'd never seen anything quite like this before".
As it turned out, the empirical treatment - intubation, dialysis, transfusions, whacking doses of steroids and anti-IL-2 receptor antibodies - seems to have done the trick. This was a "cytokine storm", a known immune phenomenon never observed in such isolation before. (It's usually set off by infection or some endotoxin).
An accompanying perspective article talks about some the issues that were tossed around on this site at the time (a href="http://pipeline.corante.com/archives/clinical_trials/">here - scroll back to March), such as the similarities (and differences) between the CD28-targeting Tegenaro antibody and the comparatively successful ones targeting CLT-4. No one is still quite sure why TGN1412 did what it did, but the authors have a couple of suggestions: for one thing, the affinity of the antibody was probably quite different in humans than in the other species used preclinically. In primate studies, the animal were dosed with the exact same antibody (anti-human-CD28) used in the clinical trial, but it surely has weaker binding to the primate T-cell receptor.
Another factor, which as they point out is not often appreciated, is that laboratory animals (particularly rodents) have much more naïve immune systems than wild-type animals (like us). The clinical trial subjects surely had far more memory T cells, activated by previous exposures to all sorts of antigens, than the mice used in the early models. Perhaps this added to the trouble.
At any rate, we don't seem to be hearing much about how TGN1412 might still go back into the clinic, like we were at the time. The NEJM authors correctly point out that before anyone goes after any of the costimulatory T-cell receptors again, we're going to need to know a lot more than we do now. And even then, you have to think, it's going to require an awful lot of nerve.
Comments (10)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials
June 26, 2006
Posted by Derek
The latest round in the fit-to-never-end saga of the Vioxx APPROVe trial and the New England Journal of Medicine is here. The journal today released a correction of the orginal paper, perspective article on the statistics of the original study, and some inconclusive correspondence about the (recalculated) risks.
The correction is notable for removing the earlier statements that it appears to take 18 months for risk to develop in the study's Vioxx patient group. And since Merck's made a big deal out of that timing, this has already become the headline story. (I can recommend this overview by Matthew Herper at Forbes).
The perspective article, by Stephen Lagakos of Harvard, may be fairly heavy going for someone who doesn't who isn't statistically inclined. I include in that group - please correct me if I'm wrong here - the great majority of newspaper reporters who might be covering the issue (Herper and a few others excepted). I'm no statistician myself, but I spend more time with the subject than most people do, so I'll extract some highlights from Lagakos's piece.
He has a useful figure where he looks at the two incidence curves for the Vioxx and placebo groups. These are the curves that have been the source of so much controversy: whether or not there was an increased risk after 18 months of Vioxx therapy or not, or if the risk was clear from the outset, and so on. As Lagakos points out, in a slap at Merck's public treatment of the graphs:
"It may then be of interest to assess how the cumulative incidence curves might plausibly differ over time. Doing so by means of post hoc analyses based on visual inspection of the shapes of the Kaplan-Meier curves for the treatment groups can be misleading and should be avoided. A better approach is to create a confidence band for the difference between the cumulative incidence curves in the treatment and placebo groups - that is, for the excess risk in the treatment group."
He does just that, at the 95% confidence level. What it shows is that well past the disputed 18-month point, the 95% confidence band still contains the 0% difference line, and there's room around it on both sides. As he summarizes it:
"The graph shows that there are many plausible differences, including a separation of the curves at times both before and after 18 months, and a consistently higher or lower cumulative incidence in the rofecoxib group, relative to the placebo group, before 18 months."
In other words, the data don't really add much support to anyone's definitive statements about Vioxx risks before 18 months. The 95% band only widens out to a plus or minus 1% difference in cumulative incidence rates at a time between 18 and 24 months. At that point, the upper and lower bounds are both creeping up, though, but the band only rises to an all-positive difference between the two groups at the 30-month mark. By the 36-month point, the last in the study, the 95% confidence band is between a 1% and a 4.5% risk difference for Vioxx therapy compared to placebo.
This doesn't help Merck - in fact, since they've made such a lot of noise about this 18-month threshold, it does them quite a bit of damage. But it doesn't directly help the plaintiffs who are suing them, either - the good news for them is that Merck is looking bad again.
Lagakos goes on to talk about what these demonstrated long-term risks can tell us about short-term ones. Assuming that the risk for, say, 12 months of Vioxx is somewhere between the placebo group and the 36-month figure (a reasonable assumption), these figures will set the upper and lower bounds. The most optimistic outcome, then, is that 12 months of Vioxx does nothing to you at all, compared to placebo, even after another two years of observation. And the most pessimistic outcome is that the Vioxx you took continues to increase your risk the same as if you'd been taking it the whole three years (a damage-is-already-done scenario). Although Lagakos doesn't name these as such, you could call these two boundries the Merck line and the Trial Lawyer line, because they correspond to what each side would fervently like to believe is true.
Combining this with his 95% confidence band plot, you end up with a figure that shows that, within 95% confidence, the excess risk for a 12-month treatment could still range anywhere from zero up to the worst that was seen in the full-term-treatment group. So, because this range still includes the no-effect outcome, you can't conclude that a shorter course of Vioxx was harmful. But because it includes the data of the out-to-three-year group, you can't conclude it's safe, either. And that's really the best you can do. If you're not willing to make those starting assumptions, you can't really say anything about the shorter courses of treatment at all.
This is, I think, a valid way of looking at the controversy, but in the end, it's not going to satisfy anyone. It makes me think that both Merck and the lawyers going after them will either: (a) pick their favorite sections from this article and beat each other with them like pig bladders, or (b) ignore it completely. (I think that the first one is already happening, with the advantage, for now, to the lawyers). If Merck can make a successful counterattack that the data don't show that Vioxx was harmful for shorter doses, either, perhaps they can get something out of this. That depends, of course, on people believing a single word that they say. Which they're making more difficult all the time.
Comments (17)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials | Toxicology
June 20, 2006
Posted by Derek
A comment to the last post asked a good question, one that occurs to everyone in the drug industry early in their career: how many useful drugs do we lose due to falsely alarming toxicity results in animals?
The answer is, naturally, that we don't know, and we can't. Not in the world as we know it, anyway. The only way to really find out would be to give compounds to humans that have shown major problems in rats and dogs, and that's just not going to happen. It's unethical, it's dangerous, and even if you didn't care about such things, the lawyers would find some thing you did care about and go after it.
But how often does this possibility come up? Well, all the time, actually. I don't think that the industry's failure rates are well appreciated by the general public. The 1990s showed that about one in ten compounds that entered Phase I made it through to the market, which is certainly awful enough. But rats and dogs kill compounds before they even get to Phase I, and the failure rate of initiated projects making it to the clinic at all is much higher.
So it's not like we take all these rat-killers on to humans, despite what the lunatic fringe of the pharma-bashers might think. Nope, these are the safe ones that go on to cause all the trouble. "Oh, but are they?" comes the question. "How do you know that your animal results aren't full of false green lights, too?" That's a worrisome question, but there are a lot of good reasons to think that the things we get rid of are mostly trouble. For all the metabolic and physiological differences between rodents, dogs, and humans, there are even more important similarities. The odds are that most things that will sicken one of those animals are going to land on a homologous pathway in humans. And the more basic and important the pathway is, the greater the chance (for the most part) that the similarities will be still be strong enough to cause an overlap.
But there are exceptions in both directions. We know for a fact that there are compound that are more toxic to various animal species than they are to humans, and vice versa. But we play the odds, because we have no choice. Whenever a compound passes animal tox, we hope that it won't be one of the rare ones that's worse in humans. But when a compound fails in the animals, there's simply no point in wondering if it might be OK if it were taken on. Because it won't be.
Comments (8)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Animal Testing | Clinical Trials | Toxicology
May 18, 2006
Posted by Derek
A quick request: I'd be interesting in hearing anyone's experiences with any of the various adaptive clinical trial designs. I'm starting to work on an article on the subject, and thought it would be worth hearing some real-world experiences. Feel free to e-mail me or use the comments - thanks!
Comments (1)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials
May 3, 2006
Posted by Derek
So, as mentioned, the DC Circuit Court of Appeals came down with an interesting ruling (PDF available here). Here's the background of the case, as summarized in the majority opinion:
The Abigail Alliance for Better Access to Developmental Drugs ("the Alliance") seeks to enjoin the Food and Drug Administration ("FDA") from continuing to enforce a policy barring the sale of new drugs that the FDA has determined, after Phase I trials on human beings, are sufficiently safe for expanded human testing (hereafter "post-Phase I investigational new drugs"). More specifically, the Alliance seeks access to potentially life-saving post-Phase I investigational new drugs on behalf of mentally competent, terminally ill adult patients who have no alternative to government approved treatment options . . .
The Alliance contends that the FDA's policy violates the substantive due process rights to privacy, liberty, and life of its terminally ill members. The complaint presents the question of whether the Due Process Clause protects the right of terminally ill patients to decide, without FDA interference, whether to assume the risks of using potentially life-saving investigational new drugs that the FDA has yet to approve for commercial marketing but that the FDA has determined, after Phase I clinical human trials, are safe enough for further testing on a substantial number of human beings. . .
As you may be able to tell from the direction that's taking, the majority opinion says that yes, the FDA does violate due process in these cases. They're reasoning from the Glucksberg case, in which the Supreme Court laid down some guidelines for such claims, but not being a con-law scholar, I'm not qualified to address this line of thinking. They also work from precedents which hold that patients have a due process right to refuse life-saving treatments, and hold that there's a similar right to access potentially life-saving ones. "In both cases", the majority opinion says, "the key is the patient's right to make her decision about her life free from government interference. . .the Alliance seeks for its members the same right of access enjoyed by those terminally ill patients lucky enough to secure a spot in Phase II trials. Accordingly, we hold that the district court erred in dismissing the Alliance's complaint . . ."
I'm torn by this line of reasoning. My libertarian streak likes the talk about being free from government interference, but my drug-industry experience keeps suggesting some practical difficulties. (For one thing, if we're telling the government to get lost, why mandate Phase I trials in the first place?) There's a pretty strong dissenting opinion from the recently-appointed Justice Griffith that goes into these problems. First off, he has a problem with the line of reasoning that the majority used:
. . .It does not help the majority's cause that the Supreme Court has rejected several similar challenges. . .To be sure, the Supreme Court has not addressed the constitutional argument raised by the Alliance. But contrary to the tradition asserted by the majority, there is a tradition of courts rejecting arguments that the Constitution provides an affirmative right of access to particular medical treatments reasonably prohibited by the Government.
It's the last paragraph of his dissent that I find rather persuasive, though:
The majority's new right to procure and use experimental drugs raises a number of vexing questions that are now constitutional issues, potentially insulated from the tug and pull of the political process. If a terminally ill patient has such a right, are patients with serious medical conditions entitled to the benefit of the same logic and corresponding access? If an indigent cannot afford potentially life-saving treatment, would the Constitution mandate access to such care under the right recognized by the majority? Can a patient access any drug . . .if she believes, in consultation with a physician, it is potentially life-saving? Would the majority's right guarantee access to federally-funded stem cell research and treatment? Perhaps most significantly, what potential must a treatment have in order for the Constitution to mandate access? Because the majority does not answer this last question, the District Court faces an impossible task on remand.
These are just the sort of problems that I think are glossed over by Justices Ginsberg and Roberts. Where do we draw the line? There are all sorts of things that make it through Phase I that wipe out in Phase II and beyond for lack of efficacy. It's all very well to talk about potentially life-saving therapies, but that potential is, in many cases, pretty damn well hidden. What sort of Phase I study is enough to trigger this right to treatment? (And who pays for it, for that matter, and how is that figure arrived at?) And it's important to realize that Phase I only studies acute safety, for the most part. Keep in mind that compounds drop out in Phases II and III for safety problems that only showed up in larger samples and longer trials. The threat of lawsuits is bad enough already, with drugs that have made it through a lot more than Phase I. How are we going to fare with even earlier compounds?
Justice Griffith is correct in seeing this as a practice that can only expand. The demand is certainly there. I'm more willing than I was a few years ago to see what a safety-trial-only system for pharmaceuticals would look like, but this isn't, to my mind, the way to get there. We're not running Phase I trials in a such a way that they can stand on their own for drugs to go right into patients - perhaps not even patients that are dying. If we want to change that, let's change it - but from the ground up, not by going through a hybrid regime that might give us the worst of both approaches.
Comments (18)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials
March 26, 2006
Posted by Derek
Here is the voice of someone who is under a great deal of stress and is not thinking clearly:
Thomas Hunig, the German professor who founded the TeGenero company, said he still hoped the drug, TGN1412, could be brought to the market.
He said he was devastated that the six men were taken ill but said that he was "not going to give up".
Professor Hunig said: "I do hope TGN1412 can come to the market. This tragic incident does not exclude the theoretical application of TGN1412 some time in the future.
Let me be one of the voices informing Prof. Hunig: there is an almost overwhelming likelihood that his drug will never again come near a human being, much less near the market. Pharmaceutical companies drop compounds all the time that show far less severe side effects than this in rats - a disaster like this in man is the end of the line. That's not to say that the whole idea of a CD28-derived drug is dead (although it's going to be slow going after this), but TGN1412 is not going to be it. Go look for a clinical supervisory board - outside of North Korea, that is - that would allow another dosing in humans. Good luck.
Says Prof. Hunig:
""I don't want to hurt anybody in any way. I don't want to come across as a crazy scientist who wants to save his baby despite the victims he has taken. Definitely not."
Someone needs to point out that he's doing a pretty poor job of not coming across like that. Talking about the wonderful science involved and all the work that's gone into the project doesn't help, either. Arguments about how much time and effort have been spent are irrelevent - that's a sunk cost if ever there was one. And the science is no doubt nifty in the extreme, but our scientific understanding of the drug and its effects is clearly a bit. . .incomplete, which places an upper bound on just how nifty it can be.
I feel like the guy in the Monty Python sketch: Dr. Hunig, your drug has ceased to be.
Comments (23)
+ TrackBacks (1) | Category: Clinical Trials
March 20, 2006
Posted by Derek
When everyone first heard about the TeGenaro/TGN1412 Phase I disaster, the immediate question was whether it could have been prevented. As mentioned before, the main problem I had was that the volunteers seem to have been dosed fairly quickly, rather than waiting longer to see how the first patient did. That alone would have contained the tragedy to one person. But even then, we'd all be asking how that one case could have been avoided. I'm not well-versed enough in immunology to say for certain, but according to the Times of London, there's some earlier work that might have given everyone pause if it had been sufficiently appreciated.
They quote Angus Dalgleish, a British professor of immunology, as saying that he was amazed that the TGN1412 trial had been allowed, considering that at the ASCO meeting last year, a team from the National Cancer Institute presented the results of a study of an anti-CLTA4 antibody in cancer patients. They didn't see the catastrophic results of TGN1412, but the trial was rough enough. Nearly half of the patients in the high-dose group saw a harmful immune response - most of them recovered, but one needed surgery. That target is another receptor on the surface of T-cells, and it's involved in the same general activation/deactivation pathway that CD28 (TGN1412's target) is. CLTA4 activation blocks the activating effect of the CD28 pathway - in fact, it's only induced after the CD-28 receptor has been stimulated, and it seems to come on in order to damp it down. Immunology's full of these reverse-reverse things.
So one net result of either approach is to enhance CD28 signaling - TeGenaro's antibody strongly activates CD28 directly, and Medarex's inhibits its inhibitory pathway. Still, the two therapies were aiming at opposite endpoints: TeGenaro was mainly hoping to enhance the activity of regulatory T-cells (which would then decrease autoimmune activity) while the NCI group was hoping to generate a stronger overall immune response against renal tumors. Of course, it looks like the "stronger overall immune response" part of this pathway wins out.
Here's the abstract from the meeting, which tells us that the anti-CLTA4 antibody they're talking about is MDX-010, from Medarex. They've been working on it for years, and have (for example) reported similar results in 2004 in a study against metastatic melanoma. Their first attempts in this area were reported in 2003 in PNAS.
And it's still being studied - in fact, it's one of the more advanced things in Medarex's pipeline. Here's a trial that's in recruitment right now for late-stage melanoma, in combination with a potential melanoma vaccine, MDX-1379, and here's one for prostate cancer, in combination with androgen therapy. They wouldn't have made it to Phase III with this if they'd constantly seen the kinds of effects reported by the NCI group.
So the Times article is semi-right, although it gives the impression that there's this one study from last year that should have definitely raised the warning. But anti-CLTA4 therapy has been around for several years now, and it's well-represented in the literature. And it's still in advanced clinical trials, to boot. This is the sort of thing that both TeGenaro and the review board that approved its study would have been well aware of, and would have taken into account. It now appears that blocking CLTA4 is something that has to be approached with caution, while activating CD28 directly is disastrous, but I'm not sure that was obvious before this trial.
Comments (7)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials
March 17, 2006
Posted by Derek
I don't often do updates on the weekends around here, but I wanted to point out this update from the BlackTriangle blog in the UK on the TGN1412 antibody trial. Anthony Cox has all the latest information from the medical and the British press, including many details which haven't been mentioned in most reports.
For one thing, it's now being said that not only were the primate tests clean, but these first-in-man doses were set at 1/500th of the primate dose. As the latest articles in Nature and New Scientist show, there are plenty of immunologists around who are expressing doubts about TeGenaro's therapeutic approach. But it's hard to say how much of that is ex post facto - after all, a review board signed off on this, and they presumably included some competent people.
My guess is that it's going to be a long time before anyone tries another immunomodulatory antibody in humans. . .and it wouldn't surprise me to learn that it's going to be more difficult to recruit for many Phase I trials in general. That isn't good.
Comments (16)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials
March 15, 2006
Posted by Derek
(Update, March 17: See also later entry here.
There's been a severe problem with the first-in-man dosing of a new antibody in England. TeGenero, a small company in Germany, was testing their most advanced candidate, TGN1412, which is a monoclonal antibody against CD28. That's a glycoprotein on the surface of many types of T cells, and it seems to be extremely important in several mechanisms that activate them. Accordingly, finding something to modulate its activity would seem to be a promising way to attack autoimmune and other inflammatory diseases.
But when TGN1412 went into six volunteers in Phase I this week, all of them ended up in the hospital, and two of them are gravely ill. The press reports make it seem like some sort of anaphylactic reaction, but it sounds like they're not treating it like simple anaphylaxsis, so there must be something more going on. That's a very surprising outcome, since if anything you'd expect the immune response to be downregulated in response to the drug. (Update: this is only partly true - see end of post.) But there's an awful lot about human immunology that we don't understand, to put it mildly. TeGenero says that:
"These events were completely unexpected and do not reflect the results we obtained from initial laboratory studies which enabled us to progress investigations into human volunteers. . .The drug was developed in accordance with all regulatory and clinical guidelines and standards. In pre-clinical studies, TGN1412 has been shown to be safe and the reactions which occurred in these volunteers were completely unexpected”
I have to believe that this is correct. Neither TeGenero, the company conducting the trial for them (Parexel), or the British regulatory authorities have anything to gain from taking a drug into humans that had shown severe effects in animals, despite rumors to the contrary that seem to be going around in England. There's a breathless report in The Independent (I know, that's redundant) to this effect:
"The men, who were offered £2,000 to take part, were recruited by the US company Parexel, for the trial in its 36-bed unit on the Northwick Park hospital campus. They reportedly signed a contract warning that side-effects in rats and mice included "increased urine volume, decreased faeces, redness of the skin". Dogs experienced "increased heart rate and decreased blood pressure"."
I have news for the Independent, though - if we killed off every drug that showed effects like this, we'd never take anything into humans at all. The dog cardiovascular effects would be worth checking out in detail before going forward, naturally, but that's what dogs are for, to show you cardiovascular side effects. And I note that none of these effects have anything to do with devastating immune reactions. If that's all that TeGenero saw in the animal studies, I can see why they were shocked at the human results.
But antibodies are powerful - no one should forget that. Every antibody therapy has a small but real risk of setting off something terrible, and if you're targeting the immune response itself, well, the risk just goes up. The immune system is a bit like demonlogy: don't call anything up that you don't know how to send back down. Unfortunately, we don't know many effective spells yet.
My sympathies go out to those affected and their relatives and friends, of course. They shouldn't, as far as I can see, torture themselves thinking that this could have been foreseen. I hope that everyone makes it through.
Update: I've inadvertently glossed over some of the mechanism of TGN1412. Its binding to CD28 actually sets off the receptor's signaling - it's an antibody agonist. This makes it a T-cell activator, but it seems to particularly activate the class known as regulatory T-cells. These are modulators of the activity of other classes of T-cells involved in autoimmune responses.
So there's a way that things could have gone wrong - if TGN1412 isn't quite as selective in the real-world human immune system as it is in the animal models. Alternatively, even if it is selective but the spectrum of human T-cell response to CD28 ligands is intrinsically somewhat different, things could have gone off the rails very quickly. There appears to have been little reason to suspect either of these possibilities going into the clinic. We're going to learn something important about human immunology from this incident, but this is certainly a hell of a way to do it.
More: BlackTriangle has a roundup of some reactions in Britain.
Comments (20)
+ TrackBacks (2) | Category: Clinical Trials
January 19, 2006
Posted by Derek
I currently have a piece up on the Medical Progress Today site, about what an 18th-century minister has to offer modern clinical trial design. (Statistics groupies will have already guessed the subject matter from that clue)!
Comments (10)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials
January 15, 2006
Posted by Derek
The FDA has released some new guidelines intended to make it easier to get drugs into the earliest stages of human trials. Considering how often we fail at those stages of development, anything that increases our number of shots on goal is good news.
The first part of the new approach is a set of official standards for what are known as "Exploratory INDs". (An IND (Investigational New Drug) application is the mound of paperwork that you have bring to the FDA in order to dose human subjects). What they're doing here is making it easier to test limited numbers of people at smaller doses, just to see if you can narrow down your drug candidates with some realistic data. This "microdosing" approach has been tried in Europe for the last few years, and it's definitely time the the agency laid out the rules for its application over here.
I think that for the most part the key data obtained in these trials will be pharmacokinetics - you could take three or four roughly equivalent drug candidates in and see which one had the best blood levels and distribution before committing yourself. (Fancy mass spectrometry techniques can allow you to see very small amounts of compound or metabolites in samples these days). This approach will also work out well if you have some sort of clinical marker that you trust. Sub-effective doses of the drug candidates could still point you to which ones are having the effect you want, if the signal-to-noise ratio of your surrogate marker is good enough. Imaging studies would be another good use for these trials.
If I'm reading their guidelines right, the FDA can let you go into human microdosing with only rat data. That sounds either exciting or alarming, depending on your point of view, but given the low doses involved, I think it's a good thing. For dosing up to pharmacologically active levels, though, they want the traditional rat/dog safety package, which is certainly reasonable.
The second part of the new standards are for manufacturing drug substances for these early trials. What they're doing, it seems, is loosening up the "Current Good Manufacturing Practice" rules a bit for small exploratory studies. This is mostly going to help out the smaller companies and (especially) academia. CGMP is no fun to follow if you're not set up for it, and it is rather odd to make the five-gram-batch folks jump through almost the same hoops as the five-thousand-kilo people. For the larger companies with lots of CGMP capacity, though, I don't see this change making much of a difference.
It'll be interesting to see what sort of coverage this gets in the press - assuming it gets much at all, that is. There's room for a sufficiently motivated complainer to go on about the FDA loosening up on its regulation of unknown toxic drug substances, poisoning America, slippery slope, etc. If any readers spot someone taking this tack, forward the reference to me, and I'll reward you with a laudatory mention here. It'll look great on your CV. Trust me.
Comments (10)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials
December 14, 2005
Posted by Derek
Pfizer's going to pull out the stops and spend up to $100 million to try to show that their COX-2 drug Celebrex is worth it. And they're going right to the source: the Cleveland Clinic. The study will be run by Steve Nissen, and he's forbidding the investigators under him from accepting money from all sides: drug companies, securities firms, trial lawyers, the lot. Celebrex will be compared head-to-head in high-cardiac-risk arthritis patients versus naproxen and ibuprofen (no aspirin, because of the near-certainly of bleeding problems at the doses involved).
A disproportionate number of arthritis sufferers are in the higher-risk groups, so this would seem to be an appropriate patient population. They're going to need to round up 20,000 of them, though, which is going to take some time, and the whole study won't finish up until 2009, at the current best guess. (Celebrex doesn't come off patent until 2013, in case you're wondering). I hammer on Pfizer a lot around here, because I think they're too big to be effective as a company. But I have to say that this is one case where being humungous (and, for now, full of cash) is an asset. This is going to be a long a costly trial, and you can count the drug companies capable of funding it on one hand.
Merck's taking a few shots in the press today, since they'd said that a study like this basically couldn't be run. No one would do it unless they felt they had to, that's for sure. But the loss of Vioxx as a competitor may have made this study possible for Pfizer, in that it could allow them to earn back the expense more easily. Celebrex first has to show that it doesn't have the cardiac risks associated with Vioxx (which are tiny, but real). If it doesn't do that, it's dead. But if it makes it past that, and actually works better than the cheaper alternatives, Pfizer will own the market. They'd at worst dominate it over some other COX-2 stragglers like Novartis's Prexige, which I don't think has even been filed for US approval yet. Novartis is on that short list of companies that can afford this kind of clinical expense for a single trial, and they may have to consider doing a big head-to-head with Celebrex if they want to stay in the market. Smaller studies aren't going to cut it in the COX-2 area any more.
Comments (17)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials
December 1, 2005
Posted by Derek
Many people might not have noticed Rigel Pharmaceuticals until their stock fell down the stairs today. We'll pause a moment to consider the fate of this upbeat analyst, whose clients were long-and-wrong if they followed his recommendation to buy the stock a couple of weeks back. (There's a case to be made for buying the stock now that it's been hammered, but that's a topic for another day).
Rigel had taken an inhibitor (R112) of a kinase enzyme called Syk into the clinic for nasal allergies, and they missed their endpoints by a mile. They ran about 400 patients through a seven-day course of either their inhaled drug, a placebo, or Beconase, an inhaled steroid from GSK. Beconase was significant against placebo, but R112 wasn't.
But what must have been especially hard to take was that they'd already run an earlier trial with over 300 patients, where R112 seemed to work pretty well versus placebo. These results were a big part of why Rigel's stock was as high as it was. What went wrong?
We can start with the clinical trials themselves. I'm going to stipulate that today's result was correct, and that the compound did indeed fail. I think the two trials were measuring similar endpoints, so one possibility is that the earlier one was just run incompetently. I'm not in a position to say, and you'd like to rule that explanation out, but it's a possibility. What looks like a good P value can cover a multitude of sins.
A second level of explanation is the drug's mechanism. It's hard to believe that the underlying biology is completely mistaken, though. Syk is a reasonable target for allergy. It's involved in the signaling inside mast cells (and some other members of the immune system) after they're stimulated by an antigen, and blocking it would seem to be just the ticket.
I'm going to go with a hybrid theory. The first efficacy trial was only a two-day evaluation. Perhaps there's a compensatory mechanism that kicks in and cancels out the effect of the drug on repeated dosing? That would make this failure a team effort between the biology and the design of the first trial, and that's what seems most likely to me in the absence of other data. Fortunately for Rigel, this wasn't a particularly long or expensive trial - they announced only back in August that they'd enrolled their first patients. It's a nasty failure, but they got out of it relatively cheaply.
And they have deals with a range of other companies for other kinase inhibitor projects. One of them, though, is of particular interest after today's news. Pfizer is a partner of theirs for their next-generation Syk kinase inhibitors, this time aimed at the asthma market. Is my compensatory mechanism guess correct, and does it apply to that therapeutic area, too? Pfizer will be paying to find out. . .
Comments (2)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials
October 20, 2005
Posted by Derek
I wrote a brief wrap-up on the FDA's concerns about the new Bristol-Meyers Squibb / Merck diabetes drug Pargluva (muraglitazar). It's officially "approvable", but the FDA wants more cardiovascular safety data before it can be sold. But just this morning the JAMA web site has rushed out an article from a team at the Cleveland Clinic on the drug's clinical trial data. (Accompanying editorial here). It's very disturbing, in more ways than one.
At the time, I said that "By my reading, the cardiovascular event profile of the drug subjects looks slightly but noticeably worse than that of the placebo group. There are plenty of possible extenuating factors, and the number of patients involved is small, but I think that this is going to be a problem for the companies during the FDA hearing. Here's the list of questions the FDA has proposed for discussion (PDF again), and you can see that edema and cardiovascular safety loom large. . ." That's fine, as far as it goes, but I didn't dig far enough into the data, and I wonder if the advisory panel did, either.
What the authors of this new paper have noticed is the number of patients taking a low dose of muraglitazar - lower than the companies ended up seeking approval for. They didn't show enough beneficial effects for that dose to be worthwhile, but since muraglitazar's cardiovascular problems appear to be strongly correlated with dose, these patients also had no cardiovascular events at all. The problem is that these patients were included in the risk calculations, and that makes the drug look safer than it would be under real-world conditions.
The Cleveland group's recalculations now put the risk of cardiovascular events with clinically relevant doses of muraglitazar at 20% higher than the placebo group, and at 67% higher than the combined placebo-standard of care group. (That includes patients treated with pioglitazone, a PPAR-gamma compound that's been approved for some years now). Put that way, this sounds like a huge increase, but it's important to remember that both of these figures, though real, are pretty small. The placebo group had about 34 events per 1000 patient years, and the drug treatment group, in the new analysis, had around 40 events. So, back-of-the-envelope, for every thousand patients on muraglitazar, you might expect an extra 6 cardiovascular incidents per year. The similarities to the Vioxx data are not hard to spot, and in fact the authors of this paper have been very much involved in that controversy as well.
But I'm not going to push that comparison. This is a different case than Vioxx, a drug that (for many patients) really does seem to do more than existing compounds can. The problem here is that muraglitazar (and all the PPAR alpha-gamma compounds that have gone into development) was supposed to be better for cardiovascular outcomes than the plain PPAR-gamma compounds that are already out there. Needless to say, it was also supposed to be better than a damned placebo, which it isn't. The entire dual-PPAR-agonist idea is in trouble. The whole point of adding PPAR-alpha activity was to improve blood lipid profiles, and pretty much the whole point of doing that is to improve cardiovascular health. The first part is working, but the second part, the important part, just doesn't seem to be happening. Looking at the data, I find it hard to imagine why anyone would take muraglitazar over the exisiting therapies, when there's no evidence for what is supposed to be its main advantage.
As if that weren't bad enough, there's also a background worry about cancer rates with PPAR compounds. The muraglitazar data aren't totally reassuring on this front, either. Other compounds in this class died because of carcinogenicity in long-term rodent studies, and muraglitazar is the first compound to actually make it past such studies. But the data submitted to the FDA show that rats given the compound at high doses do indeed show bladder cancer - it just seems to be less of a problem than it was for the earlier compounds from Merck, Kyorin, Novo, Dr. Reddy's, et al. For a marginal compound, though, this is a real issue.
I don't necessarily think that the people at BMS (and Merck, a latecomer to this compound) were sitting around wondering about just how to snow the FDA. But it would certainly cheer me up if I could rule that out, wouldn't it, now? At the very least, the companies weren't being as critical of themselves as scientists have to be, and they've committed a mistake that would flunk a PhD candidate or get a paper tossed back from a well-refereed journal. Something has gone seriously wrong here. We're supposed to be better than this.
What on Earth were they thinking, submitting data in a way that makes it look like they were trying to pull a fast one with the cardiovascular risk factors? Now, of all times? Who knows, maybe people at BMS had just convinced themselves that things were fine, somehow - the capacity for human self-deception is limitless. But didn't anyone at Merck turn pale and have to sit down when they saw these numbers? I didn't realize how bad the situation was back in September, but even then I wondered about this, saying: "I can't predict which way this one is going to go, and neither can anyone else. But post-COX-2 is a bad time to be coming to the FDA with possible low-level cardiac risks in your clinical data. . ." Now that the risks look even worse, I'm baffled. You people want the sky to come down on your heads?
Comments (6)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Diabetes and Obesity | The Dark Side
September 22, 2005
Posted by Derek
One of the other incorrect lessons that people might take away from the press accounts of the antipsychotic trial is that drug companies have been comparing their medications to placebo too often. And why would you do that unless you were scared that you wouldn't be better than the competition? What's with these people, anyway?
Well, there are fields where placebo-controlled trials take place, and fields where they don't. It depends on the disease and options available to treat it. Cancer trials, for example, are very rarely run against placebo, unless there's just nothing left to do. (You'll see this with drugs that are meant for late-stage patients or those who have failed existing therapies.)
Antipsychotics are generally compared to an existing standard of care, because it's unethical to leave someone untreated when they've already been diagnosed as schizophrenic. The problem that the CATIE trial uncovered, though, is that many trials are run against haloperidol (known as Haldol). That's a typical older drug, and companies have been showing that they have better efficacy and fewer side effects than it does. (It's known to have significant problems with tardive dyskinesia, among other things).
But now we know that perphenazine is a better standard among the older drugs, mostly because of fewer side effects. I don't think that anyone is going to be able to run a haloperidol-controlled trial for a new antipsychotic. Now you're going to have to beat perphenazine, which will be a higher standard. The newer drugs have been able to get rid of the so-called extrapyramidal side effects, like tardive dyskinesia, but they haven't been able to increase their efficacy that much. That's not going to be enough any more - the ante has gone up in the field of schizophrenia therapy.
Now, if you think that your new drug is really going to cream the competition, running a trial against them is a smart move. There's no better way to persuade people to prescribe your drug than to show that it's clearly better than what's out there now. Another time you see head-to-head trials is when a company is making a run at the leader in a given category. The various attempts to out-do Lipitor are good examples, not that any of them have succeeded. But there really wasn't a clear leader in the antipsychotic area, and thus no real target to try to knock down. I'd bet that the companies involved strongly suspected that their own drugs weren't head and shoulders above everything else, either. This is the perfect situation for an outside agency like the NIH to do a comparison study, because if you're waiting for the companies involved to do it, you're going to have a pretty long wait.
Comments (4)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: "Me Too" Drugs | Clinical Trials | The Central Nervous System
September 21, 2005
Posted by Derek
You've probably seen the headlines about the recent NIH-sponsored "CATIE" study comparing five anti-psychotic medications. The result, which is what made the whole thing newsworthy to the popular press, was that it was hard to distinguish among them, with the oldest generic working as well as (or better than) the newer drugs.
But I think that people outside of the medical world are going to learn the wrong lessons from all this. Does this study mean that everyone taking anti-schizophrenia medication should switch to the old generic? Not at all, although if they need to try a different medication, they should definitely consider it. Does it mean that all these newer drugs are unnecessary? No, again. There's an awful lot of patient-to-patient variation in central nervous system drugs. Says the study's principal investigator, Dr. Jeffrey Lieberman of Columbia:
"There is considerable variation in the therapeutic and side effects of antipsychotic medications. Doctors and patients must carefully evaluate the tradeoffs between efficacy and side effects in choosing an appropriate medication. What works for one person may not work for another."
But I think that this study does make clear that the newer antipsychotics aren't as good as they should be. The field is a tough one, as I know from personal experience, having played a small role in helping a company spend I've-no-idea-how-many millions of dollars to find out that a potential schizophrenia medication didn't do squat. There's a lot of room for improvement, and we haven't been able to improve things very much.
It's important to emphasize that this was a surprising result. No one expected the side effect profiles of the four "second-generation" drugs to be so similar to the older one (perphenazine), and so similar to each other. That's one reason that a study like this is so valuable - huge clinical trials that tell you something that you already knew aren't too wonderful. I think that this is an excellent thing for the NIH to be doing. Tomorrow: what this says about head-to-head trials in general.
Comments (4)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: "Me Too" Drugs | Clinical Trials | The Central Nervous System
September 8, 2005
Posted by Derek
There's a lot of metabolic disease news this week from the FDA. We'll get to the inhaled insulin decision next week, but I thought I'd try to catch the next one before it happens. On Friday they're reviewing the first PPAR alpha-gamma ligand to make it to the regulatory approval stage, Bristol-Meyers Squibb's unmelodious "Pargluva" (muraglitazar), which sounds more like a disease than a drug. This is a therapeutic class that everyone had great hopes for a few years ago, with most of the big players competing at full speed. In theory, this combination should help with insulin sensitivity, cholesterol, and triglycerides all at the same time, which you'd think would be just what an overweight type II diabetic patient (and there are many) might need.
But development of these compounds has been a nightmare, with bad and unexpected toxicity cropping up deep in the late-phase work. BMS (and their late-arriving partner Merck) managed to get past those rapids and through clinical trials. But their drug shows a side effect that all PPAR-gamma drug programs have had to worry about, namely edema.
They also seem to have some (perhaps related) worries about cardiovascular events, which are broken out into completely separate categories in the FDA briefing document (big PDF). That document, whopper thought it is, is worth a look if you want to see what it's like to decide whether to approve a new drug or not. I wouldn't like to have to explain it all to a lay jury, that's for sure. No doubt a few whoops and hollers, along with the occasional choked tearful expression, would help.
By my reading, the cardiovascular event profile of the drug subjects looks slightly but noticeably worse than that of the placebo group. There are plenty of possible extenuating factors, and the number of patients involved is small, but I think that this is going to be a problem for the companies during the FDA hearing. Here's the list of questions the FDA has proposed for discussion (PDF again), and you can see that edema and cardiovascular safety loom large. I can't predict which way this one is going to go, and neither can anyone else. But post-COX-2 is a bad time to be coming to the FDA with possible low-level cardiac risks in your clinical data. . .
By the way, with thousands of people involved in the clinical studies, there are bound to be some. . .unplanned adverse events. I quote without comment from the briefing document linked to above, just in case you thought (for some odd reason) that running clinical trials was easy. . .
"Subject CV168021-29-21 was a 44-year old white maile with a 3-year history of diabetes and history of overweight, hypercholesterolemia and impotence. On study day 29 the subject died as the result of a gun shot wound.
Subject CV-168006-5-3 was a 62-year old white female with a history of hypertension, smoking, and alcohol use. On study day 112 she died in a motor vehicle accident. Her car was stopped at a light when struck by a truck. The investigator considered the event not likely related to study drug."
Yes, one would, on the whole, conclude that it wasn't . . .
Comments (7)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Diabetes and Obesity
August 23, 2005
Posted by Derek
I'll tell you a company that's been watching what's happened to Merck and thinking hard about it: Sanofi. Well, OK, everyone in the industry has been looking at Merck's situation and shuddering, but I suspect the people at Sanofi(-Aventis) are especially jumpy. Why? Rimonabant.
Rimonabant, which will come to the market next year (most likely) under the name Acomplia, is one everyone's short list of potential multibillion dollar drugs. It'll be the first new drug treatment for obesity in years, and it's the first one ever with its mechanism of action (antagonism of the CB(1) receptor). It has potential for many sorts of addiction therapy as well. Although there's room to argue about just how effective it is compared to existing therapies, and there's some concern about how many HMOs will pay for it, there's little doubt that it's going to sell like crazy.
And there's the worry. There is absolutely no way that large enough clinical trials could be run on a drug like this to predict everything that might happen when millions of people start taking it. Can't be done. You can get down to a margin of safety that will get you past the FDA, but that isn't enough, now is it? No, if one person out of a hundred thousand has a nasty side effect, that's enough to bring the sky down on your head. And we can't test down to the level of one-per-hundred-thousand effects.
A fine situation, isn't it? This same argument applies to every new drug, naturally, but especially to a groundbreaking compound like rimonabant. That's just what we needed, an incentive not to be first in class with a new drug. What, exactly, are we doing to ourselves?
Comments (3)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: "Me Too" Drugs | Clinical Trials | Diabetes and Obesity
June 30, 2005
Posted by Derek
Gruntdoc wonders about why a particular combination therapy isn't available yet. Skin infections with methacillin-resistant staphylococcus aureus (MRSA), which I hope I never come any closer to experiencing, are treated with one of several antibiotic combinations, but they're all administered as separate drugs.
The answer is what you might suspect: the FDA would want clinical trials of the single-dose combination, just to make sure that things work the way that they're supposed to. Any company developing the combo would have to recoup those costs, not to mention the costs of then beating the drum for the idea that the new combination is a better idea. But the antibiotics in question are generics, which means that there could be some real cost-containment issues over the use of a more expensive combination.
But we have a rather close example at hand: the recently approve BiDil. (Here's the package insert, in PDF format.) That's a combination of two generics, too, which (famously) shows far better effects in the black population than it did in general clinical trials. Nitromed, the developer of the therapy, had to run some pretty reasonable-sized ones, and they spent a lot of money in the process.
They started by establishing that the blood levels of the two drugs were reasonable when given in combination, and went on to a group of 186 male patients. That trial (with 273 in the placebo group) didn't show a benefit, but hinted at one in the black subjects. The company also ran an 804-patient trial against enalapril, and saw the same trend, which led to the definitive 18-month trial in 518 black patients (with a roughly equal number in the placebo arm.) Keep in mind, this is all for two drugs whose individual efficacy was well-studied.
Note added after original post: Nitromed was after something more than the individual efficacy of each drug. Their hypothesis was that the combination would make the blood-pressure-lowering effect much more pronounced, and that this would translate into clinical benefit as seen in eventual mortality. Why this only seems to be the case in the black population is a head-scratcher. The situation for combination antibiotics would be simpler. So. . .
A combination antibiotic trial wouldn't be as long, or as expensive. But it wouldn't be negligible, either, and it's likely that some companies have run the numbers and decided that the investment would be unlikely to pay off.
Comments (3)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials | Infectious Diseases
March 22, 2005
Posted by Derek
Speaking of cancer trials, I mentioned the other day how they tend to be smaller than those for many other diseases. But that doesn't mean that they're always easy to run, as a search for "clinical trial design oncology" will show. Note the number of people offering to help you out, via seminars, consulting visits, books, and entire journals devoted to the topic.
The problems start early. Patient recruitment is a big problem for many of the less common types of cancer, and it's getting to be a problem for the better-known ones, too. If you look at all the therapies that are being aimed at breast cancer, for example, and run the numbers, it looks like there aren't enough breast cancer patients in the US to fill out all the trials that would be needed. Cost is, of course, a big reason why a lot of clinical trial work is being done overseas these days, but access to a new pool of patients is a factor, too.
Which brings up another complication - do you want patients who've tried other drugs? That depends on where you're targeting your therapy. If you hope for it to be a first-line drug, you probably want patients that are newly diagnosed. There's a steady supply of those, but not everyone who's newly diagnosed is going to be willing to participate in a clinical trial, not when there might be more proven treatments available. The worst case is when you're looking for drug-naÔve patients with advanced types of cancer. That's feasible (in theory) for some of the ones that creep up on you (like colorectal cancer), but next to impossible for some others.
But if your drug is going to be a second-line therapy, then you should go ahead and see how it performs in patients who've already been through the first-line stuff. There is, unfortunately, a steady supply of those people, too, and they're often more willing to take a chance.
Your clinical trial design will also be influenced by the kind of cancer you're hoping to treat. If you're looking at a very specific type or two, as is the case with Novartis's Gleevec, you may have to cast the net pretty widely to round up enough people. (We'll ignore the fact, for now, that Gleevec sells a billion dollars a year, which means that a lot of people are getting it when it has very little chance of doing anything for them.) If you have a new mechanism that hits all kinds of cancer cells, then you may want to dip into all sorts of different patient populations to see if one of them looks like a good place to take your stand in later Phase II and III trials. The danger in doing that is that your patients may be such a mixed bag that you can't get good statistics on anything.
Ah, statistics. You'll have noticed that I'm referring to cancer patients as if they were so many terms in an equation, which from the standpoint of drug development is exactly what they are. That comes across, to those outside the medical and scientific areas, as a pretty cold way to talk. Guilty as charged - but keep this in mind: people who work for drug companies get cancer, too, as do our friends and relatives. And we're just as upset as anyone else when that happens. But without the icy numbers, and lots of them, we're not going to be able to do anything to help.
Comments (6)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cancer | Clinical Trials
September 16, 2004
Posted by Derek
OK, I couldn't resist. Let me reiterate that I completely admire the NIH's commitment to basic research; it's one of the real drivers of science in this country. But they're not a huge factor in clinical trials. Academia does more basic research than pharma; pharma does more clinical work than academia. Here are some statistics from a reader e-mail:
"As a person who was an NIH staffer (funding clinical trials, no less) and is now on the pharma side (mostly spending on manufacturing development; we will spend more on clinical trials as we get bigger), I have seen both sides.
Most of NIH spending is very far from clinical utility. Last time I checked (and it has been a while), more than 90% of NIH funds went to what most people would consider non-clinical research, e.g., studies of animals and cells, etc. (If the NIH was named by its major function, it would probably be called the National Institutes of Molecular Biology ;-) The reason NIH is able to claim that half of its money goes to clinical research' is that any study that involves a human or *human tissues* counts. So a bench study looking at receptors on human renal cells counts as 'clinical research.' The number of studies examining 'whole' humans is in the 5% range.
On the other hand, pharma, as you know, spends a lot of money on research with legal (protecting patent claims), manufacturing (cGMP issues, etc.) and marketing goals that don't necessarily help anyone's health.
Regarding the clinicaltrials.gov numbers, by my reckoning the 8000 NIH studies and the 2400 'industry' studies probably represent about the same investment in *therapeutic* clinical trials. If you break down the NIH trials, about 1800 (22%) are Phase I, 3000 (37%) are Phase II, 1100 (14%) are Phase III, and the rest (2150, 27%) are observational and other. (If you want to check, I did a search within the results for the appropriate phrases and subtracted from the total for the remainder). Figures for industry are 460 (19%) Phase I, 1060 (44%) Phase II, 770 (32%) Phase III, and 133 (5%) other.
In my experience each phase of clinical trials multiplies costs by about 10 times (e.g., Phase I = X; Phase II = 10X, Phase III = 100X), so the clinicaltrials.gov figures imply that the costs of Phase I, II, and III trials funded by industry are over 80% of those funded by NIH (costs are overwhelmingly driven by Phase III trials). And this is despite the close to 100% capture of NIH trials versus the unknown percentage capture of industry trials that you noted in your post."
Comments (1)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Academia (vs. Industry) | Clinical Trials | Drug Development
September 14, 2004
Posted by Derek
OK, one more on this topic before moving on to other things for a while. The Bedside Matters medblog has a better roundup of the reactions to my post than I could have done myself. And "Encephalon" there also has one of the longer replies I've seen to my initial post, worth reading in full.
I wanted to address a few of the issues that it raises. Encephalon says:
"Dr. Lowe makes his point with the sort of persuasive skill one suspects is borne of practice - I shouldn't be surprised if he has had to make his case to the unbelieving on a very regular basis. And that case is this: that pharmaceutical companies do in fact spend enormous sums of money in developing the basic science breakthroughs first made in academic labs to the point where meaningful therapeutic products (ie, '$800 mil' pills) can be held in the palms of our doctors' hands, ready to be dispensed to the next ailing patient.
So far as that claim goes, I don't think any reasonably informed individual would dispute it. . ."
It tickles me to be called "Doctor" by someone with a medical degree. On the flip side, though, it's a nearly infallible sign of personality problems when a PhD insists on the honorific. And I appreciate the compliment, but it's only fairly recently that I've had to defend this point at all; I didn't even know it was a matter of debate. The thing is, you'd expect that a former editor of the New England Journal of Medicine would be a "reasonably informed individual", wouldn't you? I don't think we can take anything for granted here. . .
He then spends a lot of time on the next point:
"It is a myth, and I would argue a more prevalent one than the myth that Big Pharma simply leaches off government-funded research, that the NIH does little to bring scientific breakthroughs to the bedside (once they have made them at the bench). . .Using arguably one of the best (databases) we've got (the NIH's ClinicalTrials.gov**) we get the following figures: of the 15,466 trials currently in the database, 8008 are registered as sponsored by NIH, 380 by 'other federal agency', 4656 by 'University/Organization', and 2422 by Industry. While I am suspicious that the designation 'university/organization' is not wholly accurate, and may represent funding from diverse sources, and while the clinical trials in the registry are by no stretch of the imagination only pharmaceutical studies, the 8388 recent trials sponsored by Federal agencies are no negligeable matter. I think Dr. Lowe will agree.""
I agree that NIH has a real role in clinical trials, but I don't think it's a large as these figures would make you think. Clinicaltrials.gov, since it's an NIH initiative, is sure to include everything with NIH funding, but there are many industry studies that have never shown up there. (And I share the scepticism about the "University" designation.) When the Grand Clinical Trial Registry finally gets going, in whatever form it takes, we can get a better idea of what's going on. I also think that if we could somehow compare the size and expense of these various trials, the Pharma share would loom larger than the absolute number of trials would indicate.
Encephalon goes on to worry that I'm denigrating basic research: "The impression a lay person would get reading Dr. Lowe's 'How it really works' is that basic science work done by the NIH is really quite trivial. I don't think he meant this. . ."
Believe me, I certainly didn't. Without basic biological studies, there would be nothing for us to get our teeth into in the drug industry. If we had to do them all ourselves, the cost of the drugs we make would be vastly greater than it is now. It's like the joking arguments that chemist and pharmacologists have in industry: "Hey, you guys wouldn't have anything to work on if it weren't for us chemists!" "Well, you'd never know if anything worked if it weren't for us, y'know!" Academia and industry are like that: we need each other.
Comments (0)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Academia (vs. Industry) | Clinical Trials | Drug Development
September 9, 2004
Posted by Derek
So is this the attitude we're up against? Here's a thread on Slashdot on the clinical trial disclosure issue - titled, I note in light of yesterday's post, "Medical Journals Fight Burying of Inconvenient Research". My favorite verb again! The comments range from the insightful to the insipid (for another good reaction to the clinical trial controversy, go here.)
A comment to the original Slashdot item disparages the idea that NIH is the immediate source of all drugs, and recommends reading my site, both of which actions I appreciate. But the first response to that was:
"No, (NIH-funded labs) just do the basic research that results in the drug leads. The companies then do the expensive but scientifically easy trials and rake in all the money (and now it seems, the credit as well)."
Wrong as can be, and in several directions at once. In a comment below, blogger Sebastian Holsclaw urges that we take this kind of talk seriously because it's more widespread than we think. I'm afraid that he might be right. The problem is that many people don't seem to understand what it is that people like me do for a living. I think that there must be plenty who don't even grasp how science works in general. Allow me to go on for a while to explain the process - I'd appreciate any help readers can provide in herding the sceptics over to read it.
Try this: If Lab C discovers that the DooDah kinase (a name I whose actual use I expect any day now) is important in the cell cycle, and Lab D then profiles its over-expression in various cancer cell lines, you can expect that drug companies will take a look at it as a target. Now, the first thing we'll do is try to replicate some of the data to see if we believe it. I hope that I'm not going to shock anyone by noting that not all of these literature reports pan out.
But let's assume that they do this time, making DooDah a possible cancer target. What then? If we decide that the heavy lifting has been done by the NIH-funded labs C and D, then what do we have so far? We have a couple of papers in the Journal of Biological Chemistry (or, if the authors are really lucky, Cell) that, put together, say that DooDah kinase is a possible cancer target. How many terminally ill patients will be helped by this, would you say? Perhaps they can read about these interesting in vitro results on their deathbeds?
What will happen from this point? Labs C or D may go on to try to see what else the kinase interacts with and how it might be regulated. What they will not do is try to provide a drug lead, by which I mean a lead compound, a chemical starting point for something that might one day be a drug. That's not the business these labs are in. They're not equipped to do it and they don't know how.
(Note added after original post): This is where the drug industry comes in. We will try to find such a lead and see if we can turn it into a drug. If you believe that all of what follows still belongs to the NIH because they funded the original work on the kinase, then ask yourself this: who funded the work that led to the tools that Labs C and D used? What about Lab B, who refined the way to look at the tumor cell lines for kinase activity and expression? Or Lab A, the folks that discovered DooDah kinase in the first place twenty-five years ago, but didn't know what it could possibly be doing? These things end up scattered across countries and companies. And all of these built on still earlier work, as all the work that comes after what I describe will build on it in turn. That's science, and it's all connected.
Here in a drug company, we will express the kinase protein - and likely as not we'll have to figure out on our own how to produce active enzyme in a reasonably pure form - and we'll screen it against millions of our own compounds in our files. We'll develop the assay for doing that, and as you can imagine, it's usually quite different than what you'd do by hand on the benchtop. Then we'll evaluate the chemical structures that seemed to inhibit the kinase and see what we can make of them.
Sometimes nothing hits. Sometimes a host of unrelated garbage hits. For kinases, these days, these usually aren't the case - owing to medicinal chemistry breakthroughs achieved by various drug companies, let me add. So if we get some usable chemical matter, then I and my fellow med-chemists take over, modifying the initial lead to make it more potent, to increase its blood levels and plasma half-life when dosed in animal models, to optimize its clearance (metabolism by the liver, etc.), and make it selective for only the target (or targets) we want it to hit. Often there are toxic effects for reasons we don't understand, so we have to feel our way out of those with new structures, while preserving all the other good qualities. It would help a great deal if the compounds exist in a form that's suitable for making into a tablet, and if they're stable to heat, air, and light. They need to be something that can be produced by the ton, if need be. And at the same time, these all have to be structures that no one else has ever described in the history of organic chemistry. To put it very delicately, not all of these goals are necessarily compatible.
I would love to be told how any of this comes from the NIH.
Now the real work begins. If we manage to produce a compound that does everything we want, which is something we only can be sure of after trying it in every model of the disease that you trust, then we put it into two-week toxicity testing in animals. Then we test in more (and larger) animals. Then we dose them for about three months. Large whopping batchs of the compound have to be prepared for all this, and every one of them has to be exactly the same, which is no small feat. If we still haven't found toxicity problems, which is a decision based on gross observations, blood chemistry, and careful microscopic examination of every tissue we can think of, then the compound gets considered for human trials. We're a year or two past the time we've picked the compound by now, depending on how difficult the synthesis was and how tricky the animal work turned out to be. No sign of the NIH.
The regulatory filing for an Investigational New Drug needs to be seen to be appreciated. It's nothing compared to the final filing (NDA) for approval to market (we're still years and years away from that at this point), but it's substantial. The clinical trials start, cautiously, in normal volunteers at low doses, just to see if the blood levels of the compound are what we think, and to make sure that there's no crazy effect that only shows up in humans. Then we move up in dose, bit by bit, hoping that nothing really bad happens. If we make it through that, then it's time to spend some real time and money in Phase II.
Sick patients now take the drug, in small groups at first, then larger ones. Designing a study like this is not easy, because you want to be damn sure that you're going to be able to answer the question you set out to. (And you'd better be asking the right question, too!) Rounding up the patients isn't trivial, either - at the moment, for example, there are not enough breast cancer patients in the entire country to fill out all the clinical trials for the cancer drugs in development to treat it. Phase II goes on for years.
If we make it through that, then we go on to Phase III: much, much larger trials under much more real-world conditions (different kinds of patients who may be undergoing other therapy, etc.) The amount of money spent here outclasses everything that came before. You can lose a few years here and never feel them go by - the money that you're spending, though, you can feel. And then, finally, there's regulatory approval and its truckload of paperwork and months/years of further wrangling and waiting. The NIH does not assist us here, either.
None of this is the province of academic labs. None of it is easy, none of it is obvious, none of it is trivial, and not one bit of it comes cheap. We're spending our own money on the whole thing, betting that we can make it through. And if the idea doesn't work? If the drug dies in Phase II, or, God help us all, in Phase III? What do we do? We eat the expense, is what we do. That's our cost of doing business. We do not bill the NIH for our time.
And then we go do it again.
Comments (28)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Academia (vs. Industry) | Clinical Trials | Drug Development
September 8, 2004
Posted by Derek
I haven't been covering all the twists of the clinical-trial-disclosure story, because there have been so many of them. The drug industry is proposing its own plan, various companies are jumping out with theirs, the big medical journals have another one, and it won't be long before Congress sticks its oar in, too. Clearly there's still some wrangling to come - but equally clearly, we're going to get some sort of meaningful clinical trial data repository.
And as I've blogged here, I don't necessarily have a problem with that, although some of the ">details concern me. My problem, speaking as someone who pays his mortgage with ill-gotten loot from the rapacious drug industry, is with how we've handled the whole thing: poorly.
The verb that almost every story has used is "bury." The drug makers will no longer be able to bury their failed trials, the buried data will now have to be made public, and so on and so on. That's right, we take the data and stick it in a hollow tree stump. You would never know that every clinical trial in the US has to be registered with the FDA (or the equivalent authority in the case of offshore studies.) And you'd never guess that if we want the FDA to act, we have to submit all our clinical data, bad and good.
(Now, a situation where we could indeed use more transparency is when a trial is run, but the company decides that the results weren't good enough to support some new FDA action (a labeling extension, most of the time.) Then the results don't see the light of day, although I think that they should. But even then, the FDA knows that a trial was run.)
Where has my industry been while we've been pummeled in the press? Issuing press releases that nobody believes or even reads? Our industry organization's home page is a sinkhole of grinning publicity head shots and soft-focus stock pictures of cute babies. Find someone who can stand to look at it for two minutes, and I'll show you someone with a stronger stomach than I have. Why isn't our side of the story getting out?
Comments (1)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials
August 31, 2004
Posted by Derek
As came up in the comments to the previous post, there's not as much price competition inside a given drug category as you'd think. That's not because we're Evil Price Gougers, at least not necessarily. As I was pointed out yesterday, "me-too" type drugs aren't as equivalent as some people think. The main reason we go ahead with a drug in a category where there's already competition is because we think we have some advantage that we can use to gain market share.
This is a constant worry in every drug development effort where there's already a compound out there. I've personally, many times, been in drug project meetings where we've looked at the best competing compound (one that's either already marketed or well into clinical trials) and said "We haven't beaten them yet. We're not going to make it without some kind of unique selling point." The best of those, naturally, would be superior efficacy or a superior safety profile. Then you have easier dosing, fewer interactions with other drugs, and so on. I need to emphasize this: I have seen drug projects killed because no case for an advantage could be made.
Now, there's room to argue about how much better efficacy a drug needs to be a real advance in the field, or at least a bigger seller. You can argue about any of those possible advantages I listed, and it's true that drug companies push some compounds that aren't exactly huge leaps over the previous state of the art. (You see more of that when there's a case of shriveled pipeline in progress.) But there has to be something, and the bigger the difference, the better it is for us. We're motivated, by market forces, to come up with the biggest advances we can. The sales force would much, much rather be out there with data to show that the new drug beats the competition in a clean fight, as opposed to saying that it beats the old one on points, in a subset of patients, if you massage the data enough and squint hard, and besides it tastes better, too. . .
And as I've pointed out before, we often find out things about compounds long after they've reached the market. Lipitor, as discussed yesterday, is a case in point. I have not been a Lipitor fan in the past. The statin field seemed already pretty well served to me (as it did to a number of people inside Warner-Lambert during the drug's development, frankly.) The drug made its way forward based on efficacy in the clinic: it seemed to do a better job lowering cholesterol and improving the LDL/HDL ratio. How much advantage that is in the long term is another question, but those are the best markers we have.
The whole antiinflammatory c-reactive-protein story about the drug only came up after it was already on the market. The marked differences between it and the other statins, which I have to assume at this point are real, are a pleasant surprise to everyone involved. Warner-Lambert (and then Pfizer) thought it was a better compound, but not to this degree or for these reasons, I'l bet. I'd say that this is another argument for having multiple drugs in the same category. We don't, and can't, know everything that they'll do.
Comments (2)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: "Me Too" Drugs | Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials | Drug Development | Drug Prices
Posted by Derek
Allow me to get a little defensive. If I understand some of the critics of my industry, we spend most of our time making "me-too" ripoff drugs rather than doing something that provides any clinical benefit to patients. And, if I have this right, here's how we determine efficacy: we run clinical studies until we get the answer we want, and then we bury all the other ones. (Mind you, we bury the data by giving it to the FDA, but stay with me here.)
OK, now let's try to explain this. Merck has just released a study on its statin drug, Zocor. Following in the footsteps of two other studies with Pfizer's statin, the market-leading Lipitor, Merck dosed patients who had just suffered heart attacks. Lipitor treatment seemed to show a real benefit in these situations, lowering the rate of later cardiovascular trouble, and Merck was hoping for (and no doubt expecting) the same thing.
But they were rudely surprised. At the lower doses of Zocor, they failed to show any benefit at all. And at the highest dose, while they managed to show a lower rate of second heart attacks, they still didn't reach significance versus the placebo group. Worst of all, several of the high-doses patients showed the muscle-weakening condition rhabdomyolosis. That's the bane of statin drugs, and the reason why Bayer pulled their compound (Baycol) from the market. (Just to complicate things, one of Merck's placebo patients showed rhabdomyolosis, too, which is food for thought and should give you an idea of how much fun it is to interpret clinical trial data.)
So what's going on here? Zocor and Lipitor both work by inhibiting HMG-CoA reductase. They hit the same mechanism. Were the patients different? The study's authors say it's possible. The patients in the Lipitor studies seem to have been receiving more aggressive therapy in addition to the drug. Are the drugs different? That's possible, too. Lipitor, as it turns out, seems to lower the inflammation marker C-reactive protein much more than Zocor, and that could potentially make a difference.
But if the drugs are really different, what happens to the idea that Lipitor is just a me-too, yet another statin piling on the profits? If we in the industry hadn't kept banging away at these drugs, we wouldn't have ever known that better ones could be found. Would we? As I've pointed out in the past, if you're going to market a drug in a category where the competition is ahead of you, you'd better have some improvement to point at or set about finding one. Lipitor came into the market under the banner of "lower dose / higher efficacy", and it may be picking up more advantages as time goes on.
Now, if we believe that the drugs aren't different, which will be an interesting thing to try to prove at this point, then we have to figure out how much weight to put on this study. How does it go into the Great Clinical Trial Repository? With an asterisk? Then shouldn't the earlier two studies with Lipitor have one, too? This is the same situation I spoke of before.
And what about this clinical trial data in general? Isn't this the sort of bad news that we're supposed to be sweeping under the rug over here? A full article in JAMA complete with vigorous editorial commentary. . .some rug. Oh, and one other thing: those two earlier Lipitor studies that showed a benefit. One of them was from Pfizer(/Pharmacia), as you'd expect. But the other one was from their competition. Bristol-Meyers Squibb has been trying to prove that their statin, Pravachor, is better than Lipitor, and failing. Where's that damn rug when you need it?
Comments (5)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: "Me Too" Drugs | Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials
August 9, 2004
Posted by Derek
The New York Times has a good article this week on a trend in clinical trials that's been developing for several years - small intensive trials in humans, run before giving the go-ahead for the real thing.
It makes a lot of sense, but only when you can use it to ask (and answer) the right questions. That's where technologies like functional NMR imaging or PET scans come in, because they allow you access to in vivo data that's otherwise unobtainable. Take, for example, the studies mentioned in the Times article, where they look at glucose uptake in a solid tumor. That's a reasonable proxy for its metabolic activity, as you'd guess, and it'll give you a quick read on whether your targeted cytotoxic compound is having the effect you want.
What you'd do, normally, is dose the compound for days or weeks, then use NMR or another imaging technique to see if the tumor has changed size. That's clearly a more convincing answer, but it takes a more convincing amount of time and money to get it. And if your compound isn't having an effect on a fast marker like the tumor's metabolic rate, it's probably not going to have any effect after you dose it for two months, either. You're better off trying something else.
But if your new cancer therapy is, say, a compound that interferes with cell division, then you're not going to have that clear an answer through that glucose uptake technique. Same problem if the cancer you're treating is a more diffuse one like leukemia, because there's not such a clear tissue to image. (There are other approaches to each of those problems, naturally, but I just wanted to emphasize that each clinical trial is its own set of new problems, even inside the same general therapeutic area.)
And even when you get to the traditional large-scale trials, there's a huge need for surrogate markers that can show progress against slow-moving diseases. Glycosylated hemoglobin as a measure of efficacy in diabetes is a good validated example. It still takes quite a while to establish (weeks or months of dosing), but that's like lightning compared to the progress of diabetes complications themselves. You can do a quick assay in this field - the oral glucose tolerance test - but the improvement in that assay isn't so quick to come on.
The CNS diseases are a real clinical challenge, which is why their trials are so brutally expensive. There are hardly any markers at all for most of them. Everyone would love to have a short-term noninvasive readout for Alzheimer's, but despite years of effort, no one has quite made it. (And that's despite the definition of "short-term" in Alzheimer's is rather permissive.) Similarly, it would be good to be able to get a faster readout on depression, whose therapies are notorious slow starters.
There's a bigger problem, though, looming over some of the generally accepted markers - what effect do they really have on long-term mortality and morbidity? Glycosylated hemoglobin has been pretty well correlated in diabetes over the long term, so that one's pretty safe. But the question is worth asking, for example, about HDL and LDL levels. Yes, things do line up well, up to a point. But does long-term administration of statin drugs, say, help as much as we'd like to hope it does over, say, twenty years? The jury's still out on that one.
Comments (5)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials
June 21, 2004
Posted by Derek
The placebo effect is a real problem in some clinical trials. It varies, but in things like antidepressants it's a major factor (while with, say, pancreatic cancer it doesn't change the results too much.) In a given sample of depressed patients, there are a fair number of people (20 or thirty percent) who will respond if you give them 50 milligrams of confectioner's sugar which they truly believe to be an efficacious drug.
Of course, the majority will respond as if you'd given them, well, confectioner's sugar, but that group of placebo responders will blow your statistical workup to pieces. This is one of the reasons that you see multiple trials for antidepressants, because the trials themselves often just produce noisy data. Of course, one way to interpret this is that the antidepressants themselves are fairly worthless. That's a tempting conclusion, and for some people, they clearly don't do much good. But you can find others that truly appear to have been helped. Depressed patients, even ones who may look and act similarly, are clearly a heterogeneous population.
What if those strong placebo-responders could be weeded out of the patient population before you even started the clinical trial? This question is a good test of a person's attitude toward the drug industry. Many folks will hear that idea and cry "Fraud! Stacking the deck!" But think about it. If you could find the people who will improve when given a sugar pill, then you could pull them aside and just go ahead and give 'em the sugar pill. Hey, it's effective therapy, and that's what counts, right? And they'll miss out on the side effects of the antidepressant drugs themselves, and every drug has side effects at some level - every single one.
Meanwhile, once those folks have been sorted out, you're left with a cohort of patients who need all the help they can get, and now you're in a statistical position to see if you can really provide any. As far as I can see, everyone comes out ahead.
It turns out that there may be ways to see who's a strong placebo effect candidate and who isn't. There have been several studies in the last few years that show some real correlations in brain activity during placebo situations, and this has lead to the idea of a test for it.
If this goes on, though, there could be some interesting developments. What if everyone becomes aware of the test to see if you're going to get a placebo? Will the responders still respond if they thing there's a reasonable chance that they didn't get a "real" drug? I think that what we'll need to do is present the test as a standard procedure, to help figure out which therapy would work the best - not a method to see if you get a drug or not, but a method to see which drug you should get. That should keep things working.
Comments (5)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials
June 15, 2004
Posted by Derek
So it turns out that the major medical journals have their own plan for bringing on a clinical trial database: they're going to require companies to register trials before they'll allow publication of their results. I was taken aback at not having heard anything about this idea, until I saw that no one else in the drug industry seems to have, either.
I don't really have a problem with this at all. For one thing, it's better than having the state sue you into doing something - this is a good old free-market fight. Most of the major medical journals need revenue from pharmaceutical advertising, and the companies need the prestige of publishing in them. Come, then, let us reason together.
And the first step here, merely registering the fact of a trial, will sidestep some of the issues I brought up the other day with how to report the final data. I know that there will be pressure to include that data as well, and if we can find a way to deal with those reporting issues, we should. But even a registry of trials would show that something had been tried, naturally leading to questions about how things came out. (That's important for the medical editors' side of this dispute, because the studies that companies don't want to talk about aren't going to be submitted for publication, anyway - the journals have no other leverage at that point.)
Now, one way around this would be for companies to forsake publication in the journals involved (a tough thing to do, mind you) and just present the data with a big splash at a prestigious meeting or two. If you see more professional societies joining this trial-registry movement, especially ones that don't publish their own journals but still sponsor large meetings, then I think the outcome will have become clear.
I think, though, that people have some odd ideas about how clinical trials work and how many of them there are. Consider columnist Michelle Malkin, who wrote about this story today:
From Statistics 101 we know that if a product is as effective as a placebo, 1 in 20 trials will produce a statistically significant finding due to random chance. Since companies run dozens of trials on each major compound, it is not too hard to produce at least one positive, statistically significant finding suitable for publication. The rest are buried in the "circular file." This is great marketing but it is not science.
Um, we don't actually run "dozens" of trials on every major compound. We don't have enough money to do that, as hard as that may be to believe, and in many cases there just aren't enough patients to go around. So we just don't get to play with the statistics in this way. It would be irresponsible, she's right about that, but we don't do it.
And that argument would only hold if all 20 trials were run the exact same way (Statistics 101, you know.) Twenty different trials, each run a different way on different patient groups, can produce results all over the map. Trying to do metastatistics over the whole group is not a job you want; it's often not even possible. And besides, even if they were all the same, the level of statistical significance that Malkin's talking about (1 in 20 by random chance) isn't very high at all. A clinical trial has to be a lot more significant than that to convince anyone at either the FDA or the company itself.
Comments (5)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials
June 9, 2004
Posted by Derek
There have been plans, over the years, for some sort of data repository for clinical trials. Nothing's ever worked out. The only place that all of this is collected is at the FDA, and they only have the ones that companies have submitted because they were requesting a new approval or a new indication. If companies run studies but they give up on regulatory filing, the data can never see the outside world at all.
That's the heart of the New York - GSK suit, as I was discussing yesterday (although, as I pointed out, in this case the data were made public, although nowhere near to the extent that the more positive study was). Presumably, the ideal that Eliot Spitzer seeks would be a central database of all clinical studies conducted on marketed drugs - along with, it seems, a requirement to go into the results of all of them in marketing presentations. (Actually, I think the ideal that Eliot Spitzer seeks is a world in which he is a senator from or the governor of New York, but that's another story. . .)
This sounds like a reasonably clear mandate, but in practice it's quite tricky. It's worth thinking about what a clinical data repository would look like. You'd have to include the statistical workup from the end of the trial, that's for sure. The raw data makes for quite a heap, and extracting the useful conclusions from it is not the work of a moment. You have to be well informed about how and why the trial was designed to even know where to start, and you have to be well informed about statistics to know when to stop.
Even with all the conclusions attached, an open raw-data repository would be a real invitation to cranks of all kinds to go in and massage the data. I've spoken about this issue before, because companies themselves can be guilty of trying to extract more conclusions than the data will support. Imagine the ax-grinding subgroup analysis and selective data mining that would go on - for one thing, the trial lawyers would be adding statisticians to their staffs to do nothing but comb through the numbers all day, looking for tort-worthy tangles.
Even if you just have the worked-up data in the repository, you still face the problem of data overload. Heavily studied drugs can have a long list of differently designed trials attached to them, all of which are either asking different questions or asking the same one in different ways. Digging through them is not something you can do on your lunch break.
An even tougher problem is what to do about poorly designed or poorly executed studies. That seems to be the case with the Paxil 377 data I spoke about yesterday, which is why one of the study's co-authors wanted to publicize it in the first place. Who gets to decide if a particular study is valid? Whose comments and conclusions will be attached to the results? Who gets to weight them against the other results collected on the same drug?
These are the sorts of issues that are wrangled about in the regulatory approval process, and the disagreements can be heated, even in a roomful of people who all know what they're doing. How many physicians would be willing to consult a Central Clinical Trial Database and do the wrestling themselves? How many would even have the time? For the most part, practioners have as their default setting to trust the FDA, since they've analyzed the data already.
As for what companies can say to doctors, limits in this area have banged right into free-speech considerations in the courts. Attorney General Spitzer's on-message response to this is that you can't use a First Amendment argument to justify fraud, and I'll let that one go by without swinging at it. But what would he have disclosure look like? Should it be verbal (and in that case, how would it be enforced?) Should it be a written handout on the total clinical data generated for a new drug? That makes more sense, but then we get back to the question of how summarized the results should be, and who gets to write the summaries.
The thing is, I think that a clinical data repository would be useful. I know that I'd like to go data-mining through previous studies, looking for things that are relevant to my current projects. And I'd like to see what happened in failed trials so we can be sure not to run ours in the same fashion (which was Dr. Miner's point about the 377 Paxil study). It could be worth trying, but I worry that it might require the world to be a little better than it really is to work. We'll see.
Comments (3)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials
June 8, 2004
Posted by Derek
New York Attorney General Eliot Spitzer has found what must look like another target-rich environment: the pharmaceutical industry. As many readers will have seen, he's initiated a lawsuit against GlaxoSmithKline for their handling of clinical trial data for the antidepressant Paxil (paroxetine). As far as anyone can tell, this suit is the first of its kind.
There's a specific side to this story, and a there's general one about the handling of all clinical trial data. I think I'm going to end up splitting the difference, but first things first: in this case, SmithKline (as it was at the time) ran different studies on the effectiveness of Paxil in adolescent patients. One study (#329) had positive results, and another (#377, slightly later) showed no benefit versus placebo. Spitzer points out that the successful first study was widely publicized, presented at several scientific meetings, and eventually published. SmithKline (and later GSK) made it part of their sales pitch to physicians.
Meanwhile, the 377 study was presented once, at the annual meeting of that same academy, and never showed up as a full paper in the literature. The presentation wasn't SmithKline's idea; they weren't going to publish or present at all. It was suggested by two of their academic collaborators (Robert Milin and Jovan Simeon). And as you can imagine, it has not been a feature of GSK's promotional literature.
All this, in the eyes of Attorney General Spitzer, adds up to an indictment for fraud - and yes, that's exactly the word he uses. Here we have all the elements of a great case: buried information that would have been harmful to a large corporation, and a whistleblower who brought it to light. It sounds more like a screenplay - as you read about it, you can start mentally casting the movie.
But there are complications. For one thing, SmithKline made no objection when Dr. Milin told them of his plans to present the 377 study. I don't know what the terms of the research agreement were in this case, but often enough the company can exercise a veto in such cases, since they paid for the study. And second, Milin himself is, according to Barry Meier's story in the New York Times last week, a strong believer in the use of Paxil in adolescents. He considers the 377 study to have failed because of a flawed design, not because the drug isn't useful. And as for publishing the results in a journal, that would have actually been quite difficult. Inconclusive or negative results are very hard to publish in general, and in this case even the positive study wasn't the easiest thing to get into the literature. According the Times article, the paper probably bounced around a couple of times before finding a home. It ended up in the Journal of the American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry, and appropriate venue but hardly the highest-impact journal in the world. And finally, GSK provided details of both studies to the FDA, as it is required to do.
So hiding information, which is the basis of the fraud allegation, lies in the way that GSK detailed physicians. I wouldn't expect them to go out of their way to present data showing that the drug didn't work, but if one of the study's own authors felt that it was flawed, then I really wouldn't expect them to talk about it much. I can see what Spitzer's trying to do, all right, and I can see what he thinks he has. But I don't think that's what's really there.
All this, presumably, is supposed to further the cause of releasing clinical trial data. Under the current system, the company can show it only to the FDA (or other regulatory agencies) if it chooses, and if they give up on the compound, no one has to see it at all. There have been calls over the years to establish a clinical trial database, but nothing's ever come together.
And you know, I actually think that a general trial database could be a good idea. (It could also be a disaster, and the industry has chosen to avoid the latter rather than seek the former - we'll go into some of the complications tomorrow.) But I think that Eliot Spitzer may have picked the wrong grandstand to make a speech from, and should have thought twice before striking up the band. Then again, that's not the sort of behavior that got him to where he is now. . .
Comments (0)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials
March 15, 2004
Posted by Derek
In my March 11 piece below, I mentioned the possibility of Pravachol competing on price with Lipitor. But over at Forbes, Matthew Herper has pointed out that it's currently more expensive. What BMS is going to do with this drug, I can't imagine.
There's also a good story in the Newark Star-Ledger about the whole comparative-trial situation. (That paper does a pretty good job with the drug industry, since so many of the big players are right in its back yard.)
Comments (0)
| Category: Business and Markets | Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials
March 11, 2004
Posted by Derek
Just a brief note today about the "PROVE-IT" study that Bristol-Meyers Squibb ran and has now reported on. This was their big shot at Pfizer's Lipitor, their chance to show that their own statin, Pravachor, was just as good or better. The study was big, it was long, and man, was it expensive. It's just the sort of thing that I was talking about when I wrote recently about comparative drug trials.
And it shows why more of them aren't done. Because, as is well known, when you strike at a king, you have to kill him. BMS found, no doubt to their dismay, that Lipitor is actually a better drug. It's not a gigantic difference, and you can still argue about the dosages, but BMS's drug definitely failed to realize the hopes they had for it. Here are two competing views on the issue, one from DB's Medical Rants (keep scrolling up) and one from Medpundit.
Now what? How do they promote it? The question that BMS is going to get is "Why should anyone take your drug instead of Lipitor?" The only thing I can think of is for them to compete on price. "Take Pravachor - it's proven to be sort of, you know, inferior, but it's sure cheaper!" Doesn't quite have that compelling zing, does it?
If comparative drug trials are going to be done, they're either going to have to be required by law - in which case, as I pointed out, we in the industry will pass along those costs to the consumer, thanks - or they'll have to be done by a third party. (In which case it'll be paid for by everyone who pays taxes, not just the eventual users of the drugs involved.) If you're waiting for more companies to do them on their own, you're going to have a long wait. Especially after something like this happens.
I'll leave everyone with a homework question: Can anyone think of another case - I can't - where a company sponsored a study of their product against a competitor, found that theirs fell short, and publicized it? UPDATE: I mean, outside the drug industry. It's happened several times to us (Zyprexa!) I'm talking Ford / Honda, Dell / Gateway examples, and I can' think of one. Admittedly, as I've said before, health care is different, but still. . .
Comments (0)
| Category: Business and Markets | Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials
February 29, 2004
Posted by Derek
Some interesting mail has come in after last week's post on comparative clinical trials. Reader C.B. that I spoke about here some time ago, but should have raised again:
"It seems to me that something else is being left out: not all patients respond the same way to any particular drug. . . Suppose that drugs X and Y are equally efficacious when given to the appropriate patient, but the population more responsive to X is smaller than that benefiting from Y. A simple comparative trial would suggest that Y was more effective because it assumes a single type of patient. On the basis of the results, people who should get X would only be allowed Y. . ."
It's true, there are a number of cases like this, and this is one of the traditional arguments for multiple drugs in a given class. I've made it myself. Given the state of the art, it's nearly impossible to untangle these things. In almost all cases, we have no idea why some people respond better to a particular therapy; it's trial and error. Clinically, these things are bottomless pits, so I think that comparative trials are going to be most useful in areas where a large number of patients respond to both drugs under study.
But we're in the process of inventing ourselves out of this situation. That's why all that money is being poured into pharmacogenomics - and quite rightly, although the end result is that many drugs are going to have their potential market size whacked into a rather more compact shape. The great thing about pharmacogenomics is that we're finally going to know who should take our latest drug, and we'll be able to find them and sell it to them. The terrifying thing, from the marketing standpoint, is that we're simultaneously going to find another group of patients, a potentially larger group with the same disease, who will never take that drug at all. It's going to be a better world, but one in which some business models (cancer therapy!) are going to have to change.
And in a similar vein, reader R. D. writes:
"I have yet to see someone make a rational case for why me-toos are bad. At most, the argument seems to be that if pharma would just stop spending all its time coming up with me-toos, we could get around to curing cancer and parkinsons and stuff. I think that's bunk. You and I both know that any pharma that could come up with cures for things like cancer or parkinsons could start their own mint. The reason they haven't is because it's HARD, not because they prefer to make less money by painting their old pills purple and trying to convince everyone that they're new and improved."
Purple? What on earth can you be talking about? No, the argument he's talking about is one that (in this form) I don't have too much time for, either. The me-too drugs are there to keep the coffers full to pay for the research that doesn't work out, and to tide companies over the dry spells. I can see the objections to the areas where there are six and eight therapies all piled up on top of each other (for example, does the world really need Crestor?) But if Crestor makes money, some of that's going to pay for something new.
And the reason for that touches on another favorite whipping boy: marketing and promotion costs. Keep in mind the inverse relationships between advertising costs, novelty, and the chances of success. A new drug that does something no one's ever seen for a major disease previously thought untreatable - isn't that what makes everyone happy? How much, comparatively, would have to be spent to market such a therapy? There's no competition - it would sell itself! But what are the chances that any of us are going to find and develop such a wonder?
(OK, some of you are saying "Viagra! First on the market, first in the category, promotion out the wazoo!" But keep in mind: no one was sure that men would actually go to their doctor and admit their symptoms - thus the advertising blitz. And Prizer knew, with all the other companies working on PDE subtypes, that competition would be coming soon. They needed all the brand recognition that they could buy.)
Meanwhile, contrast a first-ever wonder drug with, say, the umpteenth statin. It's a crowded field, and you have to spend like crazy to make headway. The thing was a bit lower-risk to develop, since you knew that the rationale was there. But your cost-of-sales figures are going to be uglier, and nothing's ever going to help them.
My point is that a company needs both of these kinds of drugs. You can't hope to live only on the first kind, because they happen so seldom and so unpredictably. And no one's trying to live only on the second kind, either, because you've traded higher costs their for relative security. Everybody developing one of the first class wishes they had some of the second to tide them over. And everyone with drugs in the second class is looking for one from the first.
Comments (0)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Drug Prices | Why Everyone Loves Us
February 26, 2004
Posted by Derek
I've already had some reader mail (see here) about this article in today's New York Times. It starts out looking like a real pharma-bashing exercise. Up to a point, it is - and up to a point, it's deserved, too. But in the end it's a more subtle piece, not that you'd guess that from the opening paragraphs. (I have my own solution to the problem the article raises, and it will bring joy to no one. Read on.)
The issue is comparability of drugs, especially drugs with the same broad mechanism of action. Look at all the statins or antiinflammatories on the market: is there one that's better than the others? Of course, if you listen to the companies that make them and promote them, the answer is clear. Their product is best! But, as in any other industry, that's not the most reliable guide.
The article uses the example of two marketed forms of the protein erythropoetin, one from Amgen, and one from Johnson and Johnson. J&J's product is about one-third the cost of Amgen's. Is there any reason to pay for the more expensive option? Medicare has asked the National Cancer Institute to run a study to answer that question, but (as the Times points out early and often) there is a provision in the latest Medicare legislation that keeps the program from even using such evidence of functional equivalance in its payment decisions. As you'd imagine, Amgen is arguing that this provision makes the planned Medicare/NCI comparison study a moot point. Why compare?
This would seem like an easy call: the drug companies are slamming the door on something that might cut into profits. Hey, I work here, and I'm sure that that was the motivation, too. But I should add the standard comparisons to other industries at this point, though, and note that car makers are not required to prove that their latest models actually work better than the older ones, or better than the competition's. Nikon doesn't have to run head-to-head trials with Canon, nor Gateway with Dell.
I like those examples, but I realize that there are some other considerations. For one thing, we're talking about public funds here, right? Partly, yes, although the managed-care corporations have a big interest in this, too. I'd add that the government spends a lot of money on goods and services that are not required to be comparison tested (but are selected on the basis of lowest bid.) We'll get back to that topic in a couple of paragraphs. The other big factor is that my car and computer comparisons are discretionary purchases. Health care is treated differently. It's an emotional issue, a life-and-death issue, and it's always going to be held to a different standard than other businesses.
So, let's test! But as the article makes clear, it's not as easy to test these things as you'd think:
. . .Rarely are such studies able to answer all the most important questions. The National Cancer Institute has been mulling the appropriate design for the Aranesp-Procrit trial for nearly two years and will probably need another year before starting the test. . . In the end, more than one trial may be needed, Dr. Feigal (of NCI) said.
Dr. Feigal declined to estimate the cost or size of the eventual trial or trials, but similar tests have cost millions of dollars. Indeed, for comparative trials to be the size needed to measure true differences between drugs, they generally need to be large, lengthy and expensive.
Indeed they do. The article goes on to talk about the hypertension drug comparison study that got such play in the media a few months ago - not least from the New York Times itself. It hasn't settled the question, though. There are still real doubts about which therapy is most effective (for one thing, because patients in the study didn't take more than one type of drug, although in the real world this is a common mode of treatment.) This was a huge study already, and adding arms to assess combination therapies would have bulked it up considerably.
Still, I'm in favor of doing some head-to-head tests, because I think that there are several therapies out there that don't offer much for their price. (I'm looking at you, Nexium!) Here's my proposal - and yes, I'm going to go ahead and treat the drug industry unlike any other. If a company wants to bring out a me-too therapy, it will be required to show evidence of whatever factor differentiates it from the existing agents. The company gets to choose the battlefield: more efficacy? Quicker onset? Fewer follow-up visits to the doctor? Whatever. Pick a reason you're going to promote the drug, and come up with data to back it up. I think we'd end up with fewer me-toos on the market, but we'd lose fewer of them than many critics might think. Many times, drugs that look the same can indeed act differently. Admittedly, it would take some careful clinical work to bring some of the differences out, though.
This change would require a major shift at the FDA. For existing therapeutic modes, you'd need to switch at some point from placebo-controlled trials to competition-controlled trials. Perhaps you could run an initial test-the-water placebo control (after all, these are drugs that have a high chance of working), and from then on you run versus the competition. There are complications - which competitor, for example. But it's possible to do, and it's an idea that has been talked about for a long time.
And who's going to pay for all this? Well, you are (if you're a patient, that is.) Believe me, we're going to pass those costs on, and pronto. Raise the regulatory barrier, pay more money: it's a law of nature. And the lost revenue from the me-too drugs, which have higher chances of success (but still aren't sure things!) will be passed on, too. I think that there are still savings to be realized here - but they're not going to be as big as they seem.
Comments (1)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials | Drug Prices | Why Everyone Loves Us
January 13, 2004
Posted by Derek
I wanted to take a moment to mention some interesting posts around Blogdom that readers may not have seen. In a response to the news on secretin for autism (see my post below), Dwight Meredith writes on what it was like at its peak of interest:
Human secretin, swine secretin, herbal secretin (which as far as I can tell is an oxymoron) and synthetic secretin were all hawked relentlessly to the parents of autistic children. The price of secretin skyrocketed. People were paying $2,000 for an amount of secretin that before the buzz had cost about $30. It is not an exaggeration to say that parents were mortgaging their homes to purchase secretin for their kids. We now know that a sugar pill would have been equally effective.
Please note that all of that buzz was generated by the fact that a few autistic children had improved after being given secretin for digestive problems. The autism community could not wait for double blind and placebo tested trials. We wanted our miracle and we wanted it now.
This is a man who writes from personal experience, I should note. And I can understand the desperation (well, as much as anyone in my position can - I have two small children, neither of whom have - thus far - shown any neurological abnormalities.) What I have trouble imagining, though, is what goes through the mind of someone who peddles "herbal secretin" to parents who are begging for something to help their autistic child.
Herbal secretin? They didn't even bother making it sound like anything but a heartless scam. Figured the customer base would be too desperate to care, I suppose. I'm ashamed to be in the same phylum with creatures who would do something like this.
There's a larger point about the wait for double-blinded trials, too, of course, which I should save for a longer post. The short form is that I can see the point that some people make, that it would be better to require safety (Phase I) trials, then stand back and let efficacy be sorted out in the marketplace. (SMU's Steve Postrel and I had a long e-mail exchange on that subject a year or so ago.) But then I hear about this sort of thing, and start to think that this is one of those sensible ideas that would only work on some other species than humans.
The other post I wanted to mention is over at Colby Cosh's site. Talking about medical progress, he hits on the idea of looking at the causes of death in the records of ballplayers from the old days, who were in their physical prime. It's an alarming list, and most of the things on it are, fortunately, in the process of disappearing from the world. And good riddance. As Cosh says: "I don't know how anybody kept from just going insane before antibiotics existed, with death lurking around every corner."
One final note - I've forgotten to mention that Charles Murtaugh is back blogging again. There's lots of good new stuff; just start at the top and work your way down.
Comments (0)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Autism | Blog Housekeeping | Clinical Trials | Drug Industry History
December 20, 2002
Posted by Derek
As I mentioned yesterday, I think the kind of study that compared diuretics with other hypertension medicines was a very good thing. So why don't we see more of these?
There are several reasons. It's worth thinking about the different levels of testing, and what questions they're designed to answer. At the first level, you have questions about specific drugs - is Drug A safe to take, compared with taking nothing? Does Drug A work, compared with taking a placebo? These are the usual subjects of Phase I and II clinical trials.
There's a third question, namely, how good is drug A versus other drugs that work the same way? That one doesn't get answered as often as it should, because the FDA generally only requires testing against placebo. A debate has been going on about when it's appropriate to run head-to-head trials rather than placebo-controlled, and it happens more often than it used to. Drug companies aren't always eager to try this, because they sometimes fear that the advantages of their new compound may turn out to be more subtle than they'd like. But if they think they've got a clear edge, then a trial like this is just the thing. I think we're going to be seeing more and more FDA requests for these sorts of trials, which will definitely make life harder for drug development, but in a good cause.
Beyond specific drug questions, you get to mechanism issues: Does therapy A work better than therapy B? That's what the diuretic study was designed to answer, and it's the rarest kind of all. It's a situation, though, like the old proverb that says when you strike at a king, you have to kill him. If you run one of these trials and your advantage isn't there, you're probably sunk - and if a safety liability shows up versus the existing therapy, you're completely sunk. This is what happened to Bristol-Meyers Squibb when they run Vanlev (omepatrilat) against Vasotec (enalapril) for hypertension. Vanlev's never going to see the light of day, and neither is any other ACE/neutral endopeptidase inhibitor combination.
As one of the interviewees in Wall Street Journal noted:
Duke's Dr. Catliff says it isn't reasonable to expect the pharmaceutical industry to onduct head to head studies needed to answer questions of both science and money. "It's sort of an all or nothing game," he says. There is a potential gain for the winner, but a huge risk for a loswer. Some results could essentialy kill the market for a drug. "The industry can't afford to take that kind of risk."
Well, whether it's reasonable or not, he's right that companies aren't going to line up to do this sort of study. The business is risky enough already, thanks. No one company is going to try it unless they're forced to (like BMS.) That goes double when you're comparing existing therapies, things that are already on the market. But that doesn't mean that I don't think this kind of study should be done - on the contrary. I think that the NIH's model for the ALLHAT hypertension study could be the way to go - let people run the study who won't be cutting their own throats by running it. It'll be interesting to see if they get a general mandate (and funding) to do just that.
Comments (0)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Cardiovascular Disease | Clinical Trials
November 14, 2002
Posted by Derek
I recently mentioned the non-cholesterol effects of HMG-CoA reductase inhibitors (statins,) so I thought I'd follow up on that with a discussion of the recent news (Nature, Nov. 7) that they could be beneficial for multiple sclerosis.
The mechanism of MS is clear, up to a point. (I know, everything is clear, up to a point, but bear with me.) It's an autoimmune disease, a T-cell response to the body's own myelin sheaths around the nerves. This inflammation damages the myelin (a full immune assault damages just about anything,) and thus affects nerve impulse transmission. Over time, the neurons themselves are irreversibly damaged (or so it seems; reversal of neurological damage is a hot topic these days, and no one's sure what might be possible eventually.) The course of the disease varies a great deal from person to person, since immune systems vary, too. Current therapy can slow the progression down a bit, but nothing stops it.
The idea that statins might help in something like MS isn't actually new. The drugs have long been known to have some immunological effects: as far back as 1995 â yep, way back then â a study showed that heart transplant patients had a better outcome when pretreated with pravastatin.) Since then, a number of miscellaneous signaling pathways involved in inflammation have been shown to be affected by one statin or another. (So many, in fact, that it was getting hard to sort out what was going on.)
The latest work is a very nice study using a mouse model of MS called EAE (experimental autoimmune encephalomyelitis.) It's a pretty decent surrogate for the disease, brought on by deliberate (and heavy) immunization with peptides that are close enough to myelin's surface composition to set off the autoimmune response. There are several recipes for doing that, some of which only work in specific strains of mice, which cause different types of impairment (more or less severe, chronic versus repeating, and so on.)
The statin used was atorvastatin (known to the world, and to nearby planets if Pfizer's marketing department has anything to do with it, as Lipitor.) I note without comment that one of the paper's authors was the recipient of an "Atorvastatin Research Award" from Pfizer, but their choice of this particular compound was justified. Two years ago, it was found to be more potent on immune targets in vitro.
Giving the drug before symptoms set in was effective at lessening them. In fact, the statin even helped after waiting until the peak of the illness, which is a pretty severe test. All this was confirmed on the tissue and molecular levels; the results look very solid indeed.
So how does it work? Probably not through cholesterol lowering per se. But the HMG-CoA reductase enzyme that the statins inhibit produces mevalonate, which is a molecule that does seem to have some effects on immune function. Outside of that whole pathway, statins seem to affect production (although it's not clear how) of a regulatory protein called CIITA. That one's involved in presenting antigens to helper T cells, a process very close to presenting a pack of bloodhounds with someone's dirty sock. So it could be that the T-cell attack on myelin is thrown off at the very beginning.
There are other mechanisms, not mutually exclusive. Statins have also been shown to affect a protein called LFA-1, which is known to be important for T-cell migration. Perhaps even if they're on the scent, they get diverted at the last minute by this pathway. (One way to check would be to use pravastain, which doesn't seem to affect LFA-1, interestingly.)
Unraveling all this is going to keep a of people up late in the lab for some time to come. For now, atorvastatin is going into human trials on MS patients. You can bet that as the mechanism comes more into focus that drug companies will be ready to screen their compound banks again, though. Statins are a very good start in this area, but they don't have to be the last word.
Comments (0)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Clinical Trials
August 26, 2002
Posted by Derek
I've been meaning to comment on some recent reports in the Wall Street Journal about the lengths that stock analysts have gone to get information on clinical trials. The main example was one David Risk of Sterling Financial (primarily a short-selling outfit, and quite sceptical of official company information.) Back in February, he signed on as a patient in a trial of a sleep-disorder drug from Neurocrine Bioscience, saying that he fit the profile that they were looking for. After his acceptance, he spent his time quizzing everyone he could buttonhole, then bailed and issued a "sell" on the stock. This was based on one verbal report of a bad reaction in one patient.
Other examples in the article had analysts calling the physician in charge of a trial, pretending to be fellow MDs, and asking for details on enrolling patients (while really trolling for inside data.) One Boston outfit, Leerink Swann & Co., pays physicians involved in clinical trials to have "discussions" with analysts (who pay Leerink Swann, of course.) These discussions supposedly don't violate confidentiality agreements, but I'd like to know what useful information could change hands in a conversation that didn't.
This sort of thing strikes me as being over the line. And the thing is, I like selling stocks short. I'm a bear by temperament; my facial expression in the stock market is a permanently raised eyebrow. Investors should view company press releases with suspicion, because most of the time it's fully deserved. Biotech drips with hype and falsely raised expectations. But that doesn't justify this behavior, which is indefensible on several grounds. Legally, the Sterling analyst entered the trial under false pretences, and he had to violate his non-disclosure agreements to write the report he did. If someone wants to make a case out of that, they probably could. I could add that he wasted the time of the administrators of the trial, and that these things are hard enough to run without jokers joining in.
On the scientific side, it's really idiotic to grab onto individual data points the way he did. As it turned out, the patient with the bad reaction to the Neurocrine test drug also tested positive for opiates, and was kicked out of the trial for violating its protocol. His case probably had no bearing on whether the drug was working or not, or how safe it was. It's a recurring pattern, though: the same analyst put out a strongly negative report on a Regeneron clinical candidate for obesity because one patient came down with Guillain-Barre syndrome during the trials. Did this have anything to do with the drug? Causality's a tough question, but the patient had had a recent flu vaccination and an upper-respiratory infection (both of which are risk factors for G-B.) No other patients have had the syndrome. There seems to be no reason to assume a connection between the two.
I can't stress this enough: finding out if a drug is safe is very difficult. Finding out if a drug is effective is very difficult. And that's if you're the one running the clinical trials.The only data that mean anything are those from rigorously controlled studies, done on as many patients as possible. And once the numbers come in, you have to sit down for an extended session of head-banging statistics to be sure that you know what they mean. Sure, you can go around picking out tiny bits of positive news (like some companies do) or tiny bits of negative data (as these examples have done.) But both of these are dangerous, stupid, and irresponsible. The people in the WSJ's article go on about how they're just trying to "uncover the truth." The truth is, they're just as bad as any deceptive PR department.
Comments (0)
+ TrackBacks (0) | Category: Business and Markets | Clinical Trials
June 18, 2002
Posted by Derek
Having unloaded on the Weekly Standardlast week, I now find myself taking aim at the Wall Street Journal. Pretty soon, I'm going to be in the pundit equivalent of Albania (as was,) having ditched my every natural ally.
But it has to be done. The Journal has an editorial today on the Imclone situation - an long impassioned one that starts from false premises and draws incorrect conclusions from them. Let's excerpt the thing:
After starting off by expressing sympathy for cancer patients (and no sympathy for Sam Waksal or Martha Stewart, all perfectly defensible positions,) the editorial calls for "focusing on the FDA's role in this fiasco. . .while Imclone has not produced a study of the size and type the FDA appears to want, the larger truth is that Erbitux continues to show promising results iin small trials."
Note the "appears." Actually, it "appears" that the FDA made its requirements for clinical trials very clear, and it was Imclone that obfuscated. The dispute, which came to light during the recent congressional hearings, centers on the Phase II trial, a combination therapy of Imclone's Erbitux and the current chemotherapy agent irinotecan for colorectal cancer. Originally, as of August 1999, patients were going to get the combination of the two drugs only if their disease had still progressed after two cycles of irinotecan alone. Imclone amended this in October to allow combination therapy after any irinotecan treatment at all, and it appears that the FDA didn't completely catch on. And as it turned out, this plan muddied eventually the data thoroughly enough to make it hard to see if Imclone's drug did anything at all. But it sure did speed things up, which seems to have been what really mattered.
Harlan Waksal of Imclone maintained that they didn't mislead anyone. Minutes of a key meeting in August of 2000, though, showed that the FDA was still under the impression that the original rules applied, and no one from Imclone bothered to correct them. Even when Imclone got "Fast Track" approval in January of 2001, the FDA letter shows their decision was based on the original clinical protocol. No one from Imclone said a word.
And the "larger truth" is that small trials don't mean much. You want meaning, you run a large trial, and you run it the right way, with a design that's capable of distinguishing your drug's effects from random clinical noise. Imclone set everything up to run the fastest, cheapest trial they thought they could possibly get away with, putting the approval of their drug at risk by doing so.
Back to the editorial: "Apparently, the FDA would like Erbitux to show "single-agent activity," even though there is good reason to be |