- Email: [email protected]
Tales from the genome
Perspectives
It is vital that the profession does its utmost to put its house in order. Most governments are so close to commerce that they will be loathe to interfere, and if they do, as evidenced by recent legislation of the conduct of clinical trials in Europe, their intervention may inhibit research. All those concerned must confront the potential for serious problems at the interface between commerce and medicine. Universities and institutional ethics boards need to educate themselves and their students and scientists about the dangers of conflict of interest and ensure that research programmes are designed to avoid them. Financing of postgraduate education and the conduct of meetings of research societies both require urgent review. And the drug industry must be persuaded to revise its advertising practices and to be more open about the findings of clinical
trials. All this will require strong leadership on the part of the governing bodies of medicine and science, and drug regulatory agencies, preceded by a rigorous examination of their own interactions with commerce. An additional problem that Kassirer overlooks is the way doctors in developing countries are almost entirely reliant on help from local pharmaceutical companies to attend meetings or to undertake research. Here, the potential for conflict of interest is even greater and WHO needs to examine the situation as a matter of urgency. These issues also need to be seen in broader perspective however. Medicine has benefited enormously from financial help from a successful drug industry that, itself, is reliant on universities and research establishments for innovative discoveries and nurturing its future
staff. Provided it is tightly controlled, there is nothing intrinsically wrong about medical scientists looking to commerce for ways of exploiting their discoveries. However, it is vital that we recognise that beneath these productive interactions are pitfalls that are potentially harmful to patients. If we will only face this fact they should be avoidable. And we must, even though it may involve financial burdens along the way. For without harmonious interaction between industry, clinicians, and scientists many developments in the biological sciences will not come to fruition for the benefit of patients, which could do them even more harm than the current activities of a few greedy doctors and companies.
D J Weatherall [email protected]
In brief Book Tales from the genome
An Intelligent Person’s Guide to Genetics Adrian Woolfson. Duckworth Publishers, 2004. Pp 240. £12·99. ISBN 0-7156-3313-9.
208
I first met Craig Venter (sometimes called “Darth Venter”) in January, 1998. 3 months later, he announced an audacious plan to sequence the human genome with private funds at a tenth of the cost of the publicly funded Human Genome Project and at breakneck speed. He would use the whole genome shotgun technique. Venter invited me to Rockville, MD, USA, to visit his new company Celera Genomics. Inside, I caught my first glimpse of the 21st century. There were hundreds of sequencing machines, busy deciphering what it means to be human. Among other well-known and simplistic metaphors for our genetic sequence are “the book of life” and “the operating system of the human body”. But we are far more than the sum of our genes. The Human Genome Project responded to Venter with an announcement of their own: they would do
a draft sequence and do it quickly. A new metaphor appeared. I asked Venter what “the race” meant to him. If one existed, he said, it was a race to the starting line; the hard work, understanding the function of every gene, could take 100 years. The rivalry to sequence the genome is described by Woolfson in his charming little book, that is as informative as it is readable. He has an ear for catchy descriptions that make science understandable and memorable. Among genes implicated in embryonic development gone wrong, there is “halfbaked and bozozok (Japanese for ‘arrogant youth on motorcycles’)”. Historical vignettes begin each chapter, adding context and metaphors. One, about rubbish collection in 19th-century London, compares the Bermondsey dust heap with junk DNA. A curious cast of characters—human and otherwise—populate this book. My favourite is the “wonderful talking machine”—a 19th-century automaton
in the shape of a life-sized, reclining Turk. He said “God bless Queen Victoria”. The contraption also played music, including “God Save the Queen” of course. An article in Punch opined that if this automaton could be combined with a certain Mr Babbage’s “Calculating Machine”, they could replace a Chancellor of the Exchequer. Mr Brown please take note! The automaton is mere artificial life; by contrast, the key property of living things is that we carry an internal description of ourselves written in our DNA. Reading this book feels rather like having a conversation over dinner with a cultured, witty, and wellinformed companion. It’s a small volume that can readily be slipped into purse or pocket, perhaps to enliven a dinner for one.
Arlene Judith Klotzko [email protected] Arlene Judith Klotzko is Writer in Residence at the Science Museum, London, UK.
www.thelancet.com Vol 365 January 15, 2005
It is vital that the profession does its utmost to put its house in order. Most governments are so close to commerce that they will be loathe to interfere, and if they do, as evidenced by recent legislation of the conduct of clinical trials in Europe, their intervention may inhibit research. All those concerned must confront the potential for serious problems at the interface between commerce and medicine. Universities and institutional ethics boards need to educate themselves and their students and scientists about the dangers of conflict of interest and ensure that research programmes are designed to avoid them. Financing of postgraduate education and the conduct of meetings of research societies both require urgent review. And the drug industry must be persuaded to revise its advertising practices and to be more open about the findings of clinical
trials. All this will require strong leadership on the part of the governing bodies of medicine and science, and drug regulatory agencies, preceded by a rigorous examination of their own interactions with commerce. An additional problem that Kassirer overlooks is the way doctors in developing countries are almost entirely reliant on help from local pharmaceutical companies to attend meetings or to undertake research. Here, the potential for conflict of interest is even greater and WHO needs to examine the situation as a matter of urgency. These issues also need to be seen in broader perspective however. Medicine has benefited enormously from financial help from a successful drug industry that, itself, is reliant on universities and research establishments for innovative discoveries and nurturing its future
staff. Provided it is tightly controlled, there is nothing intrinsically wrong about medical scientists looking to commerce for ways of exploiting their discoveries. However, it is vital that we recognise that beneath these productive interactions are pitfalls that are potentially harmful to patients. If we will only face this fact they should be avoidable. And we must, even though it may involve financial burdens along the way. For without harmonious interaction between industry, clinicians, and scientists many developments in the biological sciences will not come to fruition for the benefit of patients, which could do them even more harm than the current activities of a few greedy doctors and companies.
D J Weatherall [email protected]
In brief Book Tales from the genome
An Intelligent Person’s Guide to Genetics Adrian Woolfson. Duckworth Publishers, 2004. Pp 240. £12·99. ISBN 0-7156-3313-9.
208
I first met Craig Venter (sometimes called “Darth Venter”) in January, 1998. 3 months later, he announced an audacious plan to sequence the human genome with private funds at a tenth of the cost of the publicly funded Human Genome Project and at breakneck speed. He would use the whole genome shotgun technique. Venter invited me to Rockville, MD, USA, to visit his new company Celera Genomics. Inside, I caught my first glimpse of the 21st century. There were hundreds of sequencing machines, busy deciphering what it means to be human. Among other well-known and simplistic metaphors for our genetic sequence are “the book of life” and “the operating system of the human body”. But we are far more than the sum of our genes. The Human Genome Project responded to Venter with an announcement of their own: they would do
a draft sequence and do it quickly. A new metaphor appeared. I asked Venter what “the race” meant to him. If one existed, he said, it was a race to the starting line; the hard work, understanding the function of every gene, could take 100 years. The rivalry to sequence the genome is described by Woolfson in his charming little book, that is as informative as it is readable. He has an ear for catchy descriptions that make science understandable and memorable. Among genes implicated in embryonic development gone wrong, there is “halfbaked and bozozok (Japanese for ‘arrogant youth on motorcycles’)”. Historical vignettes begin each chapter, adding context and metaphors. One, about rubbish collection in 19th-century London, compares the Bermondsey dust heap with junk DNA. A curious cast of characters—human and otherwise—populate this book. My favourite is the “wonderful talking machine”—a 19th-century automaton
in the shape of a life-sized, reclining Turk. He said “God bless Queen Victoria”. The contraption also played music, including “God Save the Queen” of course. An article in Punch opined that if this automaton could be combined with a certain Mr Babbage’s “Calculating Machine”, they could replace a Chancellor of the Exchequer. Mr Brown please take note! The automaton is mere artificial life; by contrast, the key property of living things is that we carry an internal description of ourselves written in our DNA. Reading this book feels rather like having a conversation over dinner with a cultured, witty, and wellinformed companion. It’s a small volume that can readily be slipped into purse or pocket, perhaps to enliven a dinner for one.
Arlene Judith Klotzko [email protected] Arlene Judith Klotzko is Writer in Residence at the Science Museum, London, UK.
www.thelancet.com Vol 365 January 15, 2005