Genzyme Settles

In late 2009, we posted about problems at a Genzyme plant that manufactured some fabulously expensive drugs, e.g. Cerezyme whose cost to patients approximated $160,000 a year.  We thought then that for a drug costing that much, the company ought to have figured out a conservative process to provide pure and unadulterated product.  In a later post we also why a company that could afford to make its CEO very rich could not afford to adequately maintain its manufacturing facilities.

Now Genzyme has reached a settlement with the US Food and Drug Administration (FDA) on the matter.  As reported by the Boston Globe,

Genzyme Corp will remain under federal oversight for the next seven to eight years as it works to fix quality-control problems that have bedeviled its Allston Landing plant for 15 months.

The timetable was spelled out in a consent decree struck between Genzyme and the Food and Drug Administration.

Under its terms, Genzyme will pay a previously disclosed $175 million federal fine, the first in its 29-year history. The agreement, filed with the US District Court in Boston yesterday, is subject to court approval.

Although the company said last month that it expected to pay the $175 million fine, other terms of the consent decree were not known until yesterday. Among them, Genzyme agreed to move fill-finishing work for its domestic drug shipments out of the Allston site by November. The transfer of fill-finishing for overseas shipments will take place by Aug. 31, 2011.

Fill finishing is the process of pouring drugs into vials for shipments to hospitals and clinics, where they are administered to patients.

Late last year, inspectors found bits of steel, rubber, and fiber in some drugs during the fill-finishing process in Allston. The work will be moved to a Genzyme operation in Waterford, Ireland, and to subcontractors such as Hospira Inc., subject to approval by federal regulators.

The firm faces additional fines if it fails to meet FDA deadlines

In all, the Cambridge biotechnology giant will spend two to three years in remediation under the consent decree, and another five years under oversight by a third-party contractor, the Quantic Group, a Livingston, N.J., consulting firm focused on boosting manufacturing quality and safety.

Quantic will craft a remediation plan with Genzyme, and the company could be fined $15,000 a day for missing milestones.

So now Genzyme is marching in our parade of settlements.  While this settlement is of charges related to very fundamental violations, failure to manufacture pure and unadulterated drugs, in one important way its provisions seem similar to many other such settlements we have now seen.  The settlement fines the company as a whole, but results in no penalties for any individuals. 

As we have noted before, fines, even fines larger than this one, can be regarded just as a cost of doing business (especially when the business is very lucrative.  The company's 2010 proxy statement noted that even in 2009, when production was affected by the plant closure, "sales of Cerezyme were $793 million, compared with $1.2 billion in 2008. Sales of Fabrazyme were $431 million compared with $494 million in the previous year. So the company was fined $175 million for production problems with two drugs that brought in over $1.2 billion in revenue in 2009.) 

Furthermore, the fine's impact may be diffused over the whole company, and ultimately comes out of the pockets of stockholders, employees, and customers alike.  It provides no negative incentives for those who authorized, directed, or implemented the behavior in question.  So it is not clear that settlements like this deter future wrong-doing.

Additionally, as we noted in the earlier post, the current CEO of Genzyme has gotten quite rich by virtue of his position.  While the 2010 Genzyme proxy statement indicates his compensation was affected by the financial impact of the production slowdown, even so he continued to get richer, albeit at a slightly slower pace than he did before.  That statement indicates that in 2009, CEO Henri Termeer's total compensation was a mere $9,507,403, down from $12,699,301 the previous year.  The main difference was that his non-equity incentive plan compensation dropped from $1,962,725 to 0.  While a $3 million plus salary decrement seems sizable, it is hard to conceive of an executive who makes nearly $10 million a year as suffering major financial consequences from the current debacle. 

As I have said before, endlessly, we will not deter unethical behavior by health care organizations until the people who authorize, direct or implement bad behavior fear some meaningfully negative consequences. Real health care reform needs to make health care leaders accountable, and especially accountable for the bad behavior that helped make them rich.

Leaders of Discredited Financial Rating Agencies as Leaders of Health Care

This is the latest in our informal series on the cross-linkages between the thinking and leadership that lead to the global financial collapse/ great recession and that current in health care.  Last month, a US Senate sub-committee held hearings on the role of the rating agencies, actually for-profit corporations that evaluated securities, including derivatives, in the collapse. 

The Fundamentally Conflicted Rating Agencies

To briefly provide some background, these agencies were hired by the firms that created these securities to evaluate them.  Because the securities were complex, they were hard for investors to evaluate.  Investors had become used to using the rating agencies' evaluations as benchmarks for the quality and riskiness of complex securities.  Many did not seem to realize that the agencies themselves were for-profit corporations, or subsidiaries thereof, which made more money the more securities they rated.  The rating agencies gave many of their highest ratings (AAA) to securities that later failed.  (See an informal video discussion by corporate governance expert Robert A G Monks here.)

Some key quotes from the news coverage follow.

Former credit rating agency officials said on Friday that the quest for market share fueled a drive for short-term profits, sacrificing credit quality in the process.

Eric Kolchinsky, who was in charge of the Moody's (MCO.N) unit that rated subprime CDOs, or collateralized debt obligations, said that people 'across the financial food chain, from the mortgage broker to the CDO banker, were compensated based on quantity rather than quality,' according to testimony prepared for a Senate panel.

'The situation was no different at the rating agencies.'

from Reuters

Former Moody’s Investors Service and Standard & Poor’s employees said they were excluded from assessing mortgage bonds if they questioned Wall Street’s conclusions and that credit-rating companies focused on protecting business at the expense of accurate grading.

Richard Michalek, a former managing director in Moody’s structured products derivatives group, told the Senate Permanent Subcommittee on Investigations at a hearing today that managers said he was 'not welcome on deals' involving certain banks.

Eric Kolchinsky, who led the Moody’s group that rated collateralized debt obligations made up of mortgage bonds, said he was berated by his boss when the company lost business after implementing more conservative ratings.

S&P wrongly concluded that its increasing profits amid an inflated U.S. housing market was based on 'superior management skill and insight,' said Frank Raiter, a former managing director at the company. In reality, regulators had made the firm part of 'an oligopoly' by requiring investors to hold assets it rated, Raiter said.

per Bloomberg

The documents show, sometimes in excruciating detail, the conflicts of interest that many claim lie at the heart of the ratings business model and the concerns of employees about what was happening inside the companies well before the crisis broke.

One employee at Standard & Poor's, the world's largest rating agency, said its handling of awkward questions in the summer of 2007 made it 'sound like the Nixon White House'.

And,

As one Moody's managing director wrote to his superiors in 2007, the company's errors, made it look 'either incompetent at credit analysis, or like we sold our soul to the devil for revenue, or a little bit of both'.

per the Financial Times

The two companies targeted by these hearings were Moodys, and Standard & Poors (a subsidiary of McGraw-Hill Inc).

Overlaps with Health Care Leadership: Moody's Corporation

Perusal of the roster of the Moody's board of directors in 2008, per that year's proxy statement, reveals the following overlaps with health care leadership, of its 8 directors.

Connie Mack - is also on the boards of EXACT Sciences Corporation (a biotechnology company), and Genzyme.  He is the chair of the H. Lee Moffitt Cancer Center.

Henry A McKinnell Jr - was chairman of the board and CEO from 2001-06 of Pfizer Inc.

Basil L Anderson - is a member of the board of directors of Becton Dickinson.

Overlaps with Health Care Leadership: McGraw-Hill Inc

Via the company's 2008 proxy statement, of 12 directors:

Sir Winfried Bischoff - is a director of Eli Lilly and Company.

Linda Koch Lorimer - is Vice President and Secretary of Yale University, and a Director of Yale-New Haven Hospital.

Kurt L Schmoke - is a Trustee of the Howard Hughes Medical Institute

Sidney Taurel - was chairman and CEO of Eli Lilly and Company.

Summary

So, in summary, the 20 board members of one for-profit "ratings agency," and of the corporation of which the other major "ratings agency" was a subsidiary, served on the boards of 2 biotechnology corporations (EXACT Sciences Corporation and Genzyme), one medical device company (Becton-Dickinson), one pharmaceutical company (Eli Lilly) , 2 major academic medical centers (Moffitt Cancer Center and Yale-New Haven), and one medical research institution (Howard Hughes).  Two were recent former CEOs and chairmen of the boards of 2 of the world's largest pharmaceutical companies (Pfizer and Eli Lilly). 

Most of these health care organizations have been involved with cases we have discussed on Health Care Renewal (see links above).

Given the serious concerns about the conflicts of interest that became the core of these corporations' business models, and their central role in the global financial collapse, one has to wonder why so many of the directors who presided over them still have such influential positions in health care organizations?

As we have pointed out, as the world economy was driven to near ruin by "masters of the universe," some of the same also became leaders of academia and academic medicine in their spare time. Maybe this made sense 10 or 20 years ago, but why does it still make sense? On the other hand, now that we understand how bad the leadership of finance really was, it is a little easier to understand why the leadership of health care has become so bad. It seems reasonable to hypothesize that some of the problems of academia, and particularly the problems of medical academia, may have been at least enabled by leadership more used to working in an increasingly amoral marketplace than to upholding the academic mission. The failures of the leadership and governance of finance thus suggest we need to re-examine the leadership of health care.

What is the "Worst Biotech CEO" Worth?

Recently, we posted about misadventures of the leadership of biotechnology giant Genzyme.  Although the company has long priced its drug Cerezyme for the rare Gaucher's disease at a stratospheric level, it did not sufficiently reinvest money in its manufacturing facility for the drug.  Deferred maintenance at a production facility running at maximum capacity has apparently lead to two different kinds of contamination problems, forcing a shut-down of the plant, and now a shortage of the drug.  For this, Genzyme CEO Henri Termeer was just labeled the "Worst Biotech CEO of '09" by TheStreet.com.

It was not always thus.  A 2008 profile of Mr Termeer in Boston Magazine chronicled the rise of Genzyme from a "startup [which] operated 15 stories above the Combat Zone in an old garment building on a dodgy stretch of Kneeland Street."  Termeer pushed the company to develop a practical way to manufacture Cerezyme, and had the vision that the company could make money selling the drug to a relatively small number of patients.   Of course, his solution was to price the drug so high as to "drop jaws."  However, perhaps that was what was needed to get a innovative drug to a small number of patients.

Furthermore, Termeer posited that the revenues derived from drugs such as Cerezyme would lead to innovations that would help many more people.

The biotech tycoon's immodest goal is to change healthcare. That is what he's trying to do, after all. That's part of why he doesn't sweat the bad press, which he regards as the penance of the innovator. His therapies for ultrarare diseases, he says, point the way forward, toward a day when very targeted drugs cure ailments perfectly, precisely. Don't think of his niche therapies as being used by tiny, statistically inconsequential groups; think of them as being deployed in ways that get results every time. Now contrast this with the trial-and-error approach that dominates medicine as it's practiced today, in which doctors pick and choose from the menu of drugs available and calibrate dosages until finally, hopefully, they land on what works best for that particular person. What if instead every condition had a drug that was the smart bomb that Cerezyme is for Gaucher's?

While we wait for these marvelous new innovations, however, patients with Gaucher's disease must wait for their effective but amazingly expensive drug apparently because Mr Termeer presided over the failure to pay enough attention to mundane issues like manufacturing plant maintenance while he touted his vision of the future.

Whether that vision is realistic depends on one's view of Mr Termeer's predictive abilities. The Boston Magazine article suggested he is not a good fortune teller.  In 1994, Mr Termeer "suggested to the [New York] Times that the cost [of Cerezyme] would soon drop. 'Once we have the new plant running and approved, we will start to see some economies of scale,' Termeer told the paper in 1994. 'We can start to pass on some of these economies to the marketplace while at the same time improving the financial results of the company.' Fourteen years later, the price of Cerezyme has never come down.

In my humble opinion, the tale of Henri Termeer's and Genzyme's current woes tells a lot about the culture of leadership now prevalent in health care. On one hand, it seems that some of the business-people who took over leadership of health care organizations had administrative skills that turned innovative ideas into reality. This success may have derived from real vision about the possibilities of high-technology medicine and health care.

On the other hand, as their administrative abilities and vision lead to success, their judgment was liable to become over-confident, if not arrogant. This may have been fueled by the a business ethos that celebrates executives and managers, and their administrative skills and vision, beyond all else.

However, Mr Termeer's success was dependent on the painstaking and often thankless work of physicians and scientists, particularly those who first developed the drug that became Cerezyme, the initial funding of this work by the US National Institutes of Health, and the work by scientists and engineers to develop a practical way to manufacture this drug. Termeer also benefited from the Orphan Drug Act which "allowed companies that brought drugs to market seven years of monopoly sales." Without federal research money, favorable laws, and multiple dedicated scientists, physicians, and engineers, Mr Termeer's administrative skills and vision would have yielded nothing.

Nonetheless, it was Mr Termeer who was so richly rewarded. In 2006, Boston Magazine listed him as among the 50 wealthiest Bostonians, with an estimate worth of $342 million.  The 2008 profile noted "Over the past three years, Termeer has earned more than $50 million in total compensation, and thanks to the performance of Genzyme's stock, his stake in the company is now worth about $260 million."  He was interviewed at his waterfront home in tony Marblehead, Massachusetts.  He skippers his (only) "36-foot Hickley Pilot" which is "docked near the new home he's built outside Kennebunkport [Maine]..." the town in which former US President George HW Bush keeps a summer home. 

The US (and global) health care business culture disproportionately rewards managers and executives for "innovation," as opposed to the scientists and professionals who actually developed the innovation, or the other people whose money funded these efforts.  These leaders are rewarded them sufficiently to make them into a sort of pseudo-aristocracy.  I hypothesize that such rewards make them believe that they have actually done things worthy of them, breeding over-confidence, arrogance, and a sense of entitlement that puts them beyond the usual rules of society.  The result is leadership that may be ignorant of physicians' values, self-interested, and even corrupt, and health care that is too expensive, inaccessible, and that fails to deliver quality and value commensurate with its cost. 

To truly reform health care, we need to reform how health care oganizations' culture and leadership.

What is the "Worst Biotech CEO" Worth?

Recently, we posted about misadventures of the leadership of biotechnology giant Genzyme.  Although the company has long priced its drug Cerezyme for the rare Gaucher's disease at a stratospheric level, it did not sufficiently reinvest money in its manufacturing facility for the drug.  Deferred maintenance at a production facility running at maximum capacity has apparently lead to two different kinds of contamination problems, forcing a shut-down of the plant, and now a shortage of the drug.  For this, Genzyme CEO Henri Termeer was just labeled the "Worst Biotech CEO of '09" by TheStreet.com.

It was not always thus.  A 2008 profile of Mr Termeer in Boston Magazine chronicled the rise of Genzyme from a "startup [which] operated 15 stories above the Combat Zone in an old garment building on a dodgy stretch of Kneeland Street."  Termeer pushed the company to develop a practical way to manufacture Cerezyme, and had the vision that the company could make money selling the drug to a relatively small number of patients.   Of course, his solution was to price the drug so high as to "drop jaws."  However, perhaps that was what was needed to get a innovative drug to a small number of patients.

Furthermore, Termeer posited that the revenues derived from drugs such as Cerezyme would lead to innovations that would help many more people.

The biotech tycoon's immodest goal is to change healthcare. That is what he's trying to do, after all. That's part of why he doesn't sweat the bad press, which he regards as the penance of the innovator. His therapies for ultrarare diseases, he says, point the way forward, toward a day when very targeted drugs cure ailments perfectly, precisely. Don't think of his niche therapies as being used by tiny, statistically inconsequential groups; think of them as being deployed in ways that get results every time. Now contrast this with the trial-and-error approach that dominates medicine as it's practiced today, in which doctors pick and choose from the menu of drugs available and calibrate dosages until finally, hopefully, they land on what works best for that particular person. What if instead every condition had a drug that was the smart bomb that Cerezyme is for Gaucher's?

While we wait for these marvelous new innovations, however, patients with Gaucher's disease must wait for their effective but amazingly expensive drug apparently because Mr Termeer presided over the failure to pay enough attention to mundane issues like manufacturing plant maintenance while he touted his vision of the future.

Whether that vision is realistic depends on one's view of Mr Termeer's predictive abilities. The Boston Magazine article suggested he is not a good fortune teller.  In 1994, Mr Termeer "suggested to the [New York] Times that the cost [of Cerezyme] would soon drop. 'Once we have the new plant running and approved, we will start to see some economies of scale,' Termeer told the paper in 1994. 'We can start to pass on some of these economies to the marketplace while at the same time improving the financial results of the company.' Fourteen years later, the price of Cerezyme has never come down.

In my humble opinion, the tale of Henri Termeer's and Genzyme's current woes tells a lot about the culture of leadership now prevalent in health care. On one hand, it seems that some of the business-people who took over leadership of health care organizations had administrative skills that turned innovative ideas into reality. This success may have derived from real vision about the possibilities of high-technology medicine and health care.

On the other hand, as their administrative abilities and vision lead to success, their judgment was liable to become over-confident, if not arrogant. This may have been fueled by the a business ethos that celebrates executives and managers, and their administrative skills and vision, beyond all else.

However, Mr Termeer's success was dependent on the painstaking and often thankless work of physicians and scientists, particularly those who first developed the drug that became Cerezyme, the initial funding of this work by the US National Institutes of Health, and the work by scientists and engineers to develop a practical way to manufacture this drug. Termeer also benefited from the Orphan Drug Act which "allowed companies that brought drugs to market seven years of monopoly sales." Without federal research money, favorable laws, and multiple dedicated scientists, physicians, and engineers, Mr Termeer's administrative skills and vision would have yielded nothing.

Nonetheless, it was Mr Termeer who was so richly rewarded. In 2006, Boston Magazine listed him as among the 50 wealthiest Bostonians, with an estimate worth of $342 million.  The 2008 profile noted "Over the past three years, Termeer has earned more than $50 million in total compensation, and thanks to the performance of Genzyme's stock, his stake in the company is now worth about $260 million."  He was interviewed at his waterfront home in tony Marblehead, Massachusetts.  He skippers his (only) "36-foot Hickley Pilot" which is "docked near the new home he's built outside Kennebunkport [Maine]..." the town in which former US President George HW Bush keeps a summer home. 

The US (and global) health care business culture disproportionately rewards managers and executives for "innovation," as opposed to the scientists and professionals who actually developed the innovation, or the other people whose money funded these efforts.  These leaders are rewarded them sufficiently to make them into a sort of pseudo-aristocracy.  I hypothesize that such rewards make them believe that they have actually done things worthy of them, breeding over-confidence, arrogance, and a sense of entitlement that puts them beyond the usual rules of society.  The result is leadership that may be ignorant of physicians' values, self-interested, and even corrupt, and health care that is too expensive, inaccessible, and that fails to deliver quality and value commensurate with its cost. 

To truly reform health care, we need to reform how health care oganizations' culture and leadership.

Genzyme's "Remarkable Business'Strategy" and Contaminated Drugs

In June, 2009, an article in the Boston Globe described how the Boston area based biotechnology company Genzyme sold some astonishlingly expensive drugs, using

a remarkable business strategy: In countries from Colombia to Taiwan to Libya, the Cambridge firm has compiled an extraordinary track record of searching out patients like Tania, providing desperately needed treatment, and then successfully pressing their governments, even poor ones, to pay full price for the most expensive drugs in the world.

The article focused on how Genzyme marketed Cerezyme for Gaucher's disease.

When Genzyme Corp. first introduced a bioengineered drug for Gaucher (pronounced GO-shay) disease in the 1990s, the very idea seemed almost absurd to most people in the pharmaceutical industry. It was expensive to manufacture, there were vanishingly few known patients, and it wasn't clear how you could sell enough of it to recoup research costs, never mind make a profit.

Genzyme's solution, elegant in its way, was to set a price high enough to earn a substantial profit no matter how small its pool of patients. Then the company surprised the medical world - and its investors on Wall Street - by showing that American health insurers could be persuaded to pay the six-figure price tag. And with the only effective treatment for Gaucher disease, Genzyme never needed to lower the price, even as production efficiencies raised profit margins on the drug to as much as 90 percent.

The drug started to bring in tens of millions of dollars a year, then hundreds of millions. Today this one drug, prescribed for about 5,000 patients, has transformed Genzyme and its chief executive, Henri Termeer, into one of the great success stories of biotechnology, fueling its expansion into a $16 billion company with offices and factories worldwide.

By the early 2000s, Genzyme had reached most of the known Gaucher patients in the United States, so it had begun pushing outward to new markets. Genzyme created divisions within the company to find overseas patients; it hired experts to cajole balky governments into paying for the patients' Cerezyme doses. Some of the company's successes were extraordinary: hundreds of patients in Brazil. Patients in Taiwan, Kuwait, and Bulgaria. The government of Libya's Colonel Moammar Khadafy pays for Cerezyme for a handful of patients.

As it notched these successes, the company stayed largely under the radar of public health activists who were pushing drugmakers to discount AIDS drugs and other lifesaving medications whose retail prices were financially out of reach to many governments.

Biotechnology drugs like Genzyme's, though crushingly expensive for each patient, were so rarely prescribed that they did not attract the same attention, and Genzyme followed an extremely disciplined 'one price' strategy: find patients; donate the drug at first if necessary, but press constantly to be paid full retail price.

The "one price" for Cerezyme in Costa Rica was $160,000 per year of therapy.

I thought about posting about this story when it came out, focusing, of course, on the amazing price of Cerezyme. However, then I wondered: while the price of Cerezyme seemed extremely high, could anyone say that it was outrageously and unfairly high? After all, the drug was expensive to develop and produce, could not be sold in volume, and provided apparently very effective treatment for an otherwise untreatable disease. So I put the article in a file, and did not post about it.

Then a few days later, another story ran in the Globe, this time about problems in the Genzyme plant that produces Cerezyme:

n an unprecedented move for Genzyme Corp., the state’s largest biotechnology company has halted production of two drugs for rare genetic disorders after a virus was discovered in production equipment at its Allston plant.

The drugs are used by 8,000 people worldwide and cost about $200,000 per patient annually. While the virus has the ability to taint the drugs, it is not considered harmful to humans, officials said. The manufacturing plant will remain shut through July while it is decontaminated as a precaution.

Shipments of the drugs, Cerezyme and Fabrazyme, have been put on hold while the US Food and Drug Administration seeks assurance from the company that none of its inventory is compromised. Genzyme officials believe the inventory was not affected.

The current supply will need to be rationed, Genzyme said.

My first thought was that if Genzyme can charge so much for Cerezyme, at least it ought to be able to afford a pristine production process. On the other hand, I also realized that manufacturing processes in biotechnology are complex and difficult, perfection is not always possible, and the contamination in question did not appear harmful. So I put this article in the file too, and did not post about it either.

Four days ago, the Boston Globe published yet again about troubles in same manufacturing plant.

Genzyme Corp., the Cambridge biotechnology giant that has spent five months scrambling to regain its footing after detecting a virus at its Allston plant, is facing a new contamination problem: bits of steel, rubber, and fiber found in drugs made by the company and shipped from the same site.

Federal regulators yesterday warned doctors to look for foreign particles in five Genzyme drugs used to treat rare genetic disorders, including two - Cerezyme and Fabrazyme - that have been rationed because of the viral contamination detected in the Allston Landing plant last summer. The five drugs represent roughly half of Genzyme’s $4.6 billion in annual sales.

Particles are believed to have been found in less than 1 percent of the Genzyme drugs based on product lots examined, according to a statement from the Food and Drug Administration. The FDA warned physicians, however, to carefully examine vials of the products and filter them before they are given to patients - steps that are considered standard procedure within the industry. If they find particles, the FDA asked for the vials to be returned to the manufacturer. The agency warned that ingesting the particles could have effects that include allergic reactions and blood clotting.

FDA inspectors arrived at the Allston plant last month to begin an investigation into Genzyme’s production operations.

In addition, a New York Times article noted:

'Biological manufacturing is extremely complex and prone to problems,' including contamination, said Jean-Jacques Bienaime, chief executive of BioMarin Pharmaceuticals, a biotech company that also makes drugs for rare diseases, including one it co-developed with Genzyme. Mr. Bienaime said his company always maintained at least a year’s worth of inventory in case of a production outage.

But Genzyme did not have such an inventory of Cerezyme and Fabrazyme.

Finally, today the In Vivo blog posted a discussion of Genzyme's production woes which suggested that the two different types of contamination at the plant, and the failure of the company to reliably ship pure, unadulterated drug to patients were not simply the results of bad luck or failure to attain unattainable perfection.

Friday's announcement that bits of rubber and other detritus were found in vials of five different drugs manufactured at Genzyme's beleaguered Allston Landing plant was worthy of the satirical publication "The Onion"--except that it was true.

The picture grew murkier over the weekend, with the arrival of another Form 483 missive from FDA about ongoing manufacturing issues and a complete response for Lumizyme, Genzyme's enzyme replacement therapy for Pompe disease has been subject of more regulatory twists and turns than the plot of a Dan Brown novel.

The origin of the problem goes back three years, to the original approval of Myozyme, basically the same drug as Lumizyme only manufactured on a much smaller scale, at a 160-liter scale facility in Framingham. Genzyme underestimated the demand for the drug, and plans to shore up capacity with a 4000-liter facility in Belgium were put in place. Only as a stop gap, the company also decided to devote 1/6th of its manufacturing capacity at Allston to the making of the drug.

And that decision has proved problematic. The stress of running an aging plant full tilt meant there was no time for necessary facility upgrades that might threaten the inventory of drugs manufactured at Allston, among them Cerezyme for Gaucher disease and Fabrazyme for Fabry disease. Genzyme CEO Henri Termeer admitted as much in the Nov. 16 investor call, noting '"the introduction of the production of Myozyme in Allston was a very significant factor in the complications we have experienced there.'

Too bad that realization didn't happen one year ago. That's when regulators started sending warning letters outlining concerns related to what sound like bread-and-butter manufacturing issues: microbial monitoring, equipment maintenance, and process controls.

What's most amazing is that problems are ongoing. Recall that six-week interlude this summer when the firm took the entire plant offline to sterilize it after discovering yet another unrelated problem--several bioreactors contaminated with a non-lethal to humans but problematic Vesivirus.

On the company's Nov. 16 call to investors, management confirmed that the latest 483 letter relates not to a new problem created by Genzyme's decontamination efforts but arising because of 'an older piece of equipment'. As Genzyme's EVP of Therapeutics, Biosurgery, and Corporate Operations said during a Q&Asession with analysts, '"There was a number of issues there that they [regulators] highlighted and many of which we were very aware of and working to address.'

Management's solution? Take the plant off line again for a few weeks to, as Meeker puts it, 'allow us to move more quickly to address those issues.' Does everyone feel better now?

In some strange way, the very minor nature of these gaffes is the most damning element of the story. It throws management's judgment into question and again casts doubt on the ability of the current team to resolve a situation that should never have escalated to this level.

So now it is time to discuss Genzyme's production woes on Health Care Renewal.  For $160,000 a year, it seems reasonable to expect that patients could expect a reasonably well-thought out, conservatively planned production process that would be able to reliably produce sufficient quantities of pure, unadulterated drug.  Instead, Genzyme's "remarkable business strategy" did not seem to include adequate maintenance of production facilities with adequate capacities, or even keeping an adequate reserve supply of product in anticipation that over-working a single aging facility with aging equipment might lead to something breaking down.

By the way, for overseeing this "remarkable business strategy," Genzyme paid its CEO, Henri A Termeer, $13,773,782 in total compensation last year (per the 2009 proxy statement).  Presumably mainly from the stock and option awards he has accumulated over the year, Mr Termeer now owns 4,080,387 shares of Genzyme stock, 1.5% of total outstanding shares.  For that money, patients, share-holders, and line employees ought to expect "remarkable business strategies" that include attention to such basics as good maintenance of production facilities. 

Maybe the company's well compensated (more than $400,000 a year) directors should have been more vigilant about overseeing the management's "remarkable business strategy."  The board  included Gail K Boudreaux, an Executive Vice President of UnitedHealth Group, Charles L Cooney PhD, the Haslam Professor of Chemical and Biochemical Engineering at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, and Dr Victor J Dzau, Chancellor of Health Affairs at Duke University and CEO of Duke University Health Systems, who seemingly have some relevant expertise, although the board also included Richard F Syron PhD, the former CEO of the Federal Home Loan Mortgage Corporation, (Freddie Mac), who resigned in 2008 after the failure of the company which was later bailed out by the US government.   

So once again we see how leaders of health care organizations, in this case perhaps blinded by the prodigious amounts of money they were making, failed to exercise rigorous oversight over how their company produced its product.  The actual production part of biotechnology may seem far less glamorous than other aspects of the company.  Yet, if a drug company cannot reliably produce pure, unadulterated drugs, all its advanced research, cutting edge finance, and glitzy marketing may be for nought. 

This case is another argument for finding health care corporate leaders who remember that long term success comes from putting patients, not dollars, not glitz,  first.

Genzyme's "Remarkable Business'Strategy" and Contaminated Drugs

In June, 2009, an article in the Boston Globe described how the Boston area based biotechnology company Genzyme sold some astonishlingly expensive drugs, using

a remarkable business strategy: In countries from Colombia to Taiwan to Libya, the Cambridge firm has compiled an extraordinary track record of searching out patients like Tania, providing desperately needed treatment, and then successfully pressing their governments, even poor ones, to pay full price for the most expensive drugs in the world.

The article focused on how Genzyme marketed Cerezyme for Gaucher's disease.

When Genzyme Corp. first introduced a bioengineered drug for Gaucher (pronounced GO-shay) disease in the 1990s, the very idea seemed almost absurd to most people in the pharmaceutical industry. It was expensive to manufacture, there were vanishingly few known patients, and it wasn't clear how you could sell enough of it to recoup research costs, never mind make a profit.

Genzyme's solution, elegant in its way, was to set a price high enough to earn a substantial profit no matter how small its pool of patients. Then the company surprised the medical world - and its investors on Wall Street - by showing that American health insurers could be persuaded to pay the six-figure price tag. And with the only effective treatment for Gaucher disease, Genzyme never needed to lower the price, even as production efficiencies raised profit margins on the drug to as much as 90 percent.

The drug started to bring in tens of millions of dollars a year, then hundreds of millions. Today this one drug, prescribed for about 5,000 patients, has transformed Genzyme and its chief executive, Henri Termeer, into one of the great success stories of biotechnology, fueling its expansion into a $16 billion company with offices and factories worldwide.

By the early 2000s, Genzyme had reached most of the known Gaucher patients in the United States, so it had begun pushing outward to new markets. Genzyme created divisions within the company to find overseas patients; it hired experts to cajole balky governments into paying for the patients' Cerezyme doses. Some of the company's successes were extraordinary: hundreds of patients in Brazil. Patients in Taiwan, Kuwait, and Bulgaria. The government of Libya's Colonel Moammar Khadafy pays for Cerezyme for a handful of patients.

As it notched these successes, the company stayed largely under the radar of public health activists who were pushing drugmakers to discount AIDS drugs and other lifesaving medications whose retail prices were financially out of reach to many governments.

Biotechnology drugs like Genzyme's, though crushingly expensive for each patient, were so rarely prescribed that they did not attract the same attention, and Genzyme followed an extremely disciplined 'one price' strategy: find patients; donate the drug at first if necessary, but press constantly to be paid full retail price.

The "one price" for Cerezyme in Costa Rica was $160,000 per year of therapy.

I thought about posting about this story when it came out, focusing, of course, on the amazing price of Cerezyme. However, then I wondered: while the price of Cerezyme seemed extremely high, could anyone say that it was outrageously and unfairly high? After all, the drug was expensive to develop and produce, could not be sold in volume, and provided apparently very effective treatment for an otherwise untreatable disease. So I put the article in a file, and did not post about it.

Then a few days later, another story ran in the Globe, this time about problems in the Genzyme plant that produces Cerezyme:

n an unprecedented move for Genzyme Corp., the state’s largest biotechnology company has halted production of two drugs for rare genetic disorders after a virus was discovered in production equipment at its Allston plant.

The drugs are used by 8,000 people worldwide and cost about $200,000 per patient annually. While the virus has the ability to taint the drugs, it is not considered harmful to humans, officials said. The manufacturing plant will remain shut through July while it is decontaminated as a precaution.

Shipments of the drugs, Cerezyme and Fabrazyme, have been put on hold while the US Food and Drug Administration seeks assurance from the company that none of its inventory is compromised. Genzyme officials believe the inventory was not affected.

The current supply will need to be rationed, Genzyme said.

My first thought was that if Genzyme can charge so much for Cerezyme, at least it ought to be able to afford a pristine production process. On the other hand, I also realized that manufacturing processes in biotechnology are complex and difficult, perfection is not always possible, and the contamination in question did not appear harmful. So I put this article in the file too, and did not post about it either.

Four days ago, the Boston Globe published yet again about troubles in same manufacturing plant.

Genzyme Corp., the Cambridge biotechnology giant that has spent five months scrambling to regain its footing after detecting a virus at its Allston plant, is facing a new contamination problem: bits of steel, rubber, and fiber found in drugs made by the company and shipped from the same site.

Federal regulators yesterday warned doctors to look for foreign particles in five Genzyme drugs used to treat rare genetic disorders, including two - Cerezyme and Fabrazyme - that have been rationed because of the viral contamination detected in the Allston Landing plant last summer. The five drugs represent roughly half of Genzyme’s $4.6 billion in annual sales.

Particles are believed to have been found in less than 1 percent of the Genzyme drugs based on product lots examined, according to a statement from the Food and Drug Administration. The FDA warned physicians, however, to carefully examine vials of the products and filter them before they are given to patients - steps that are considered standard procedure within the industry. If they find particles, the FDA asked for the vials to be returned to the manufacturer. The agency warned that ingesting the particles could have effects that include allergic reactions and blood clotting.

FDA inspectors arrived at the Allston plant last month to begin an investigation into Genzyme’s production operations.

In addition, a New York Times article noted:

'Biological manufacturing is extremely complex and prone to problems,' including contamination, said Jean-Jacques Bienaime, chief executive of BioMarin Pharmaceuticals, a biotech company that also makes drugs for rare diseases, including one it co-developed with Genzyme. Mr. Bienaime said his company always maintained at least a year’s worth of inventory in case of a production outage.

But Genzyme did not have such an inventory of Cerezyme and Fabrazyme.

Finally, today the In Vivo blog posted a discussion of Genzyme's production woes which suggested that the two different types of contamination at the plant, and the failure of the company to reliably ship pure, unadulterated drug to patients were not simply the results of bad luck or failure to attain unattainable perfection.

Friday's announcement that bits of rubber and other detritus were found in vials of five different drugs manufactured at Genzyme's beleaguered Allston Landing plant was worthy of the satirical publication "The Onion"--except that it was true.

The picture grew murkier over the weekend, with the arrival of another Form 483 missive from FDA about ongoing manufacturing issues and a complete response for Lumizyme, Genzyme's enzyme replacement therapy for Pompe disease has been subject of more regulatory twists and turns than the plot of a Dan Brown novel.

The origin of the problem goes back three years, to the original approval of Myozyme, basically the same drug as Lumizyme only manufactured on a much smaller scale, at a 160-liter scale facility in Framingham. Genzyme underestimated the demand for the drug, and plans to shore up capacity with a 4000-liter facility in Belgium were put in place. Only as a stop gap, the company also decided to devote 1/6th of its manufacturing capacity at Allston to the making of the drug.

And that decision has proved problematic. The stress of running an aging plant full tilt meant there was no time for necessary facility upgrades that might threaten the inventory of drugs manufactured at Allston, among them Cerezyme for Gaucher disease and Fabrazyme for Fabry disease. Genzyme CEO Henri Termeer admitted as much in the Nov. 16 investor call, noting '"the introduction of the production of Myozyme in Allston was a very significant factor in the complications we have experienced there.'

Too bad that realization didn't happen one year ago. That's when regulators started sending warning letters outlining concerns related to what sound like bread-and-butter manufacturing issues: microbial monitoring, equipment maintenance, and process controls.

What's most amazing is that problems are ongoing. Recall that six-week interlude this summer when the firm took the entire plant offline to sterilize it after discovering yet another unrelated problem--several bioreactors contaminated with a non-lethal to humans but problematic Vesivirus.

On the company's Nov. 16 call to investors, management confirmed that the latest 483 letter relates not to a new problem created by Genzyme's decontamination efforts but arising because of 'an older piece of equipment'. As Genzyme's EVP of Therapeutics, Biosurgery, and Corporate Operations said during a Q&Asession with analysts, '"There was a number of issues there that they [regulators] highlighted and many of which we were very aware of and working to address.'

Management's solution? Take the plant off line again for a few weeks to, as Meeker puts it, 'allow us to move more quickly to address those issues.' Does everyone feel better now?

In some strange way, the very minor nature of these gaffes is the most damning element of the story. It throws management's judgment into question and again casts doubt on the ability of the current team to resolve a situation that should never have escalated to this level.

So now it is time to discuss Genzyme's production woes on Health Care Renewal.  For $160,000 a year, it seems reasonable to expect that patients could expect a reasonably well-thought out, conservatively planned production process that would be able to reliably produce sufficient quantities of pure, unadulterated drug.  Instead, Genzyme's "remarkable business strategy" did not seem to include adequate maintenance of production facilities with adequate capacities, or even keeping an adequate reserve supply of product in anticipation that over-working a single aging facility with aging equipment might lead to something breaking down. 

By the way, for overseeing this "remarkable business strategy," Genzyme paid its CEO, Henri A Termeer, $13,773,782 in total compensation last year (per the 2009 proxy statement).  Presumably mainly from the stock and option awards he has accumulated over the year, Mr Termeer now owns 4,080,387 shares of Genzyme stock, 1.5% of total outstanding shares.  For that money, patients, share-holders, and line employees ought to expect "remarkable business strategies" that include attention to such basics as good maintenance of production facilities. 

Maybe the company's well compensated (more than $400,000 a year) directors should have been more vigilant about overseeing the management's "remarkable business strategy."  The board  included Gail K Boudreaux, an Executive Vice President of UnitedHealth Group, Charles L Cooney PhD, the Haslam Professor of Chemical and Biochemical Engineering at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, and Dr Victor J Dzau, Chancellor of Health Affairs at Duke University and CEO of Duke University Health Systems, who seemingly have some relevant expertise, although the board also included Richard F Syron PhD, the former CEO of the Federal Home Loan Mortgage Corporation, (Freddie Mac), who resigned in 2008 after the failure of the company which was later bailed out by the US government.   

So once again we see how leaders of health care organizations, in this case perhaps blinded by the prodigious amounts of money they were making, failed to exercise rigorous oversight over how their company produced its product.  The actual production part of biotechnology may seem far less glamorous than other aspects of the company.  Yet, if a drug company cannot reliably produce pure, unadulterated drugs, all its advanced research, cutting edge finance, and glitzy marketing may be for nought. 

This case is another argument for finding health care corporate leaders who remember that long term success comes from putting patients, not dollars, not glitz,  first.