Medical Reportingselected for clinical trials? What are thecriteria used in drug approval? Are theyscientifically valid?The ImClone StoryConsider the ImClone story. Our opportunityto write about that companywas brief. The ImClone lead agentErbitux was gathering a followingamong oncologists, patients, Wall Streetanalysts, and business and science writers.The name of the company presidentand chief executive, Sam Waksal,was popping up in society pages.Bristol-Myers Squibb paid about twobillion dollars for a stake in Erbitux.Yet, to us, preclinical developmentand early clinical trials usually fall outsidethe boundaries of coverage. Untila drug is subjected to rigorous review,we ignore it. It’s not that we weremissing the boat on ImClone; we weresimply letting the boat drift by in thefog. Before approval by FDA, a drugfalls into a regulatory no-man’s land,which means that it can be hyped withrelative impunity. FDA authority beginsat the time of approval.While drugs are under review, theagency has no authority to stop companiesfrom making unsubstantiatedclaims. By law, the FDA is precludedfrom contacting the Securities and ExchangeCommission to say that a companyis making unsubstantiated claimsand talking up the value of its stock.As soon as rigorous review of anagent begins, The Cancer Letter becomesintensely interested in both howthe agent is measuring up and in thecriteria used in its evaluation. Less thana week after the FDA notified ImClonethat its application was unintelligible, Iobtained the agency’s letter, quotingmuch of its text in two consecutivenews stories, which we published overtwo weeks. While the ImClone scandalexploded on financial pages of the dailynewspapers, I paid little attention tothe allegations of insider trading andfocused on the structure of the clinicaltrials that the company conducted andon the proprietary protocols that wereused.With my limited understanding ofclinical trials, which I picked up entirelyon the job, I could see thatImClone’s trail was unclear in definingthe eligibility criteria. Also, the trialseemed to have been altered from ashot-in-the-dark experiment conductedfor generating hypotheses to a “registrationtrial” intended to support approvalby the FDA. The result was aboutas informative as the score from a gamethat has no clear criteria for selectionof players and where the sport changesat halftime from football to soccer tosatisfy the wishes of the referee.As I stared at the ImClone protocol,I knew that journalistic analysis wouldtake me only so far. To make the storydefinitive, I called three acknowledgedexperts and asked them to review theprotocol. Rather than using a fewquotes, I asked each of them to writeabout 650 words. We published thecritiques in their entirety, with the reviewers’names included. Tongue-incheek,we call this technique “investigationby peer review.” It’s an excellentmethod for presenting technical informationto a sophisticated readership.While the three reviews and the storythat accompanied them were excessivefor a general audience, their publicationallowed The Cancer Letter to onceagain alter the level of discussion of theImClone controversy. In turn, our storieshelped to inform the Congressionalinvestigation and prompted storiesin The New York Times, on NationalPublic Radio, and CNN.With the ImClone story, our watchdogpublication, through specializedcoverage, was able to communicatecomplicated scientific analysis to abroader audience by getting this informationto reporters in the mainstreammedia. ■Paul Goldberg, along with his wife,Kirsten Boyd Goldberg, produce aweekly watchdog newsletter, “TheCancer Letter,” which won the 2002Robert D.G. Lewis Award of theWashington chapter of the Society ofProfessional Journalists.paul@cancerletter.comThe Emotional Toll of Reporting on a Cancer Trial‘I’d essentially planned to do a story about dying people with no real hopeof a cure acting as guinea pigs.’By Jenni LaidmanInever realized how seductive amolecule could be. But as I listenedto the director of the Medical Collegeof Ohio Cancer Institute speakabout this mosaic of proteins, I wassurely falling into its spell. It was beguiling,this tiny bit of antibody. Inlaboratory tests and in rodent studies,it appeared effective against a widevariety of cancers. Sure, the cure ratefor mice with cancer is in the miraculouszone when you compare mouseresults to results in humans. I knewthat. But this antibody—well, maybe itwas different.It seemed to avoid some of the significantpitfalls of other cancer-fightingantibodies. For one thing, it wasfully human, with no bits of mouseprotein woven into its structure to excitea patient’s immune response. Researchersderived it, in fact, from theantibodies of people with cancer. Alsosignificant was its structure. If you think36 <strong>Nieman</strong> Reports / Summer <strong>2003</strong>
Medical Reportingof the antibody’s well-known Y shape,you’ll recall that it’s the two arms of theY that vary from one antibody to thenext. The rest of the antibody remainsthe same, no matter what the target.This experimental antibody streamlinesthe situation, discarding everything butone arm—the variable segment of theantibody that grabs the target cell.Making a Molecule Into aStoryPerhaps it was my fascination with thescience of this antibody that preventedme from thinking clearly about theemotional cost of what I was proposingto my editors at The (Toledo) Blade.The antibody, referred to as H11 by itsCanadian manufacturer, ViventiaBiotech Inc., was in Phase I clinicaltrials at the Medical College of Ohio.My proposal: Follow the patients inthis trial and see what happens. Let’suse their stories to tell the story ofcancer. What it is, how it grows, howwe fight it, and how it so often wins.Two years later, I’m amazed at mynaiveté. Think of what I was settingmyself up for—not just me, but photographerJetta Fraser, as well. I knewthe basics of the trial: The 12 enrolleeswere to be people with end-stage disease,people for whom traditional cancertherapies were failing. Althoughthe trial was open to patients with alltypes of cancers, as long as they lackedcentral nervous system metastases andmaintained reasonably good <strong>live</strong>r andkidney function, its target were thosewith no real hope. The bottom line:They should be able to survive threemonths beyond their treatment.This was—as is the case with allPhase I trials—not an experiment tosee if the new drug worked but aneffort to look for adverse reactions anddetermine a safe dose. In fact, thisscrap of antibody would carry no killingagent with it. Although preliminarytests in humans demonstrated H11 targetedtumor cells—and plans were touse it eventually in conjunction withchemotherapy—this step in the processof vetting a promising compoundincluded no lethal accompaniment.There was no reason to think H11Cissi Jackson worked to finish a wedding dress. During her illness, she continued tocreate custom-made apparel and upholstery.Jackson and her daughter Heather at the Infusion Center at the Medical College of Ohioduring one of her treatments for breast cancer.Photos by Jetta Fraser/The (Toledo) Blade.would help patients at all.I’d essentially planned to do a storyabout dying people with no real hopeof a cure acting as guinea pigs. Intellectually,I think I understood that. Emotionally,I was utterly blind. Seven ofthe 12 trial participants agreed to let ustrack their progress. The structure ofthe final stories dictated including onlyfive of them in the narrative. It focusedtightly on two, Cissi Jackson, battlingbreast cancer since 1992, and PatKrzeminski, diagnosed with advancedovarian cancer five years earlier.Cancer as a CentralCharacterFrom the start, I wanted to make cancera main character in this series. So<strong>Nieman</strong> Reports / Summer <strong>2003</strong> 37