Sanofi-Funded Society of Hospital Medicine Stands Up for Lovenox

Here is another case to raise questions about the true goal of some medical societies.  As reported by Alicia Mundy in the Wall Street Journal in late June,

A medical researcher and two medical groups with financial ties to Sanofi-Aventis SA have asked federal regulators to hold off on approving generic forms of a Sanofi blood-thinner....

Citing potential patient safety issues, the head of the Society of Hospital Medicine and a medical researcher at Duke University last month sent letters to the Food and Drug Administration contending that Lovenox is too complex for any generic maker to copy fully.

Earlier this year, another Sanofi-sponsored medical group, the North American Thrombosis Forum, sent two letters in favor of Sanofi's position opposing generic Lovenox. None of the letters mentions the signer's financial support from Sanofi.

Two small drug companies, Amphastar Pharmaceuticals Inc. and Momenta Pharmaceuticals Inc., filed applications to the FDA in 2003 and 2005 respectively seeking to sell generic Lovenox, called enoxaparin.

Of course, the two medical societies involved denied that there was any relationship between their support from Sanofi-Aventis and their concerns about the safety of biogeneric medications that might compete with a Sanofi-Aventis product (which, as the WSJ article noted, "had global sales of $4.57 billion in 2009").

Laurence Wellikson, chief executive of The Society of Hospital Medicine, which represents doctors who coordinate patient care, said his letter to the agency 'was based entirely on the best evidence-based medicine available and the collective experience of SHM's senior hospitalists.'

Also

Ilene Sussman, executive director of the North American Thrombosis Forum, said the group's doctors are concerned about generic Lovenox, and its letter was independent of Sanofi.

The CEO of the SHM denied even a responsibility to disclose the Society's support from Sanofi-Aventis:

Dr. Wellikson said it wasn't necessary to disclose that the group receives financial support from Sanofi because its letter 'focused on providing the best, most effective care to the hospitalized patient.'

In fact, the SHM web-site includes a "disclosure of organizational support" page which suggests Sanofi-Aventis provided somewhere between $200,000 to $800,000 for three projects of the Society's projects, "pharmacoeconomics," "improving glycemic control," and "preventing VTE." The latter presumably could have something to do with anti-coagulants such as Lovenox. (The numbers are vague because the statement only discloses the amount of support provided in broad ranges.) Thus, support by Sanofi-Aventis could provide as little as 2.7% or as much as 11.1% of the Society's total income, which was noted to be $7,203,596 in its 2009 Form 990 filed with the IRS, and publicly available via Guidestar.

Given the broad mission of the SHM

SHM is dedicated to promoting the highest quality care for all hospitalized patients. SHM is committed to promoting excellence in the practice of hospital medicine through education, advocacy and research.

one wonders why it would want to get officially entangled in the approval process for specific biogeneric drugs.  If the leadership of the Society is so concerned about the safety of anti-coagulants, one wonders why they did not speak up about the case of the lethal contaminated heparin, about which we have blogged extensively, most recently here.  (I can find nothing on the web to suggest the Society, or Dr Wellikson, ever noted any concerns about this issue.)  Of course, that case involved heparin sold by Baxter International, whose production was out-sourced to a questionable supply chain.  SHM also receives support, amounting to something between 0 and $100,000, according to its "disclosure of organizational support" page, from Baxter International. 

Thus it appears that the leadership of SHM was very concerned about the safety of an anti-coagulant manufactured by a competitor of Sanofi-Aventis which could threaten that company's revenues from the drug, while Sanofi-Aventis is one of the Society's major financial supporters.  On the other hand, the leadership seemed unconcerned about the safety of an anti-coagulant sold under the Baxter International label, while Baxter-International is also one of the Society's major financial supporters.  So it is hard to tell whether the leadership is more concerned about the safety of anti-coagulants, or the financial interests of the drug companies that support it. 

The problem with the funding of health care professional societies by health care corporations that sell products or services that doctors can prescribe or order is that it raises the suspicion that such societies may use their considerable influence to serve the corporations', not patients' interests, and so undermine the professional values of the societies' members.  For this reason, Rothman et al suggested that such societies sever most of their financial ties to such corporations.(1)  (See our blog post here.)  As long as the SHM chooses to accept support from drug and device companies, questions will be asked about the effects of such support on how the Society uses its influence.  Furthermore, assertions that such support is so irrelevant that the Society need not even disclose it will only fuel more suspicion.

If ostensibly mission-driven not-for-profit health care organizations, like health care professional societies, but also including medical schools, academic medical centers, and patient advocacy groups, want the public and health care professionals to believe that they really are mission-driven, they need to spurn funding from organizations with vested interests whose service might distort these missions.

Hat tip to Steve Lucas for his comment here.

References

1. Rothman DJ, McDonald WJ, Berkowitz CD et al. Professional medical associations and their relationships with industry. JAMA 2009; 301: 1367-1372. (Link here.)

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.