|
Worrying power games are at the heart of Procter and Gamble's
relationship with academics, alleges the scientist investigating its
billlion-dollar osteoporosis treatment, reports Jo Revill
Sunday December 4, 2005
The Observer
Every medicine prescribed in Britain is offered to patients only after
years collecting data from clinical trials to show a drug's safety and
effectiveness.
Increasingly, medical research in the UK is a collaborative effort
between big pharmaceutical companies and universities. Although there
will be a commercial contract between the two, much of that
relationship is built on trust.
For patients everywhere it is essential that the way research is
conducted is open and transparent. This is an account of what happens
when the relationships break down, when academics believe they have not
been given access to the data and when the relationship between
universities and the drugs companies which provide much of their
funding for research becomes mired in controversy. This issue - and the
influence of the pharmaceutical industry - will be debated in
parliament this week.
At its heart is the practice of 'ghost writing', pharmaceutical
companies hiring writers to produce reports which academics give
permission for their name to be put to.
It is rare for tensions in the highly sensitive world of scientific
drugs research to break into the open. But an Observer investigation
has uncovered a story of a war between one of Britain's most
experienced academics and one of the world's most successful drugs
companies. At issue is a highly significant report on a drug to treat a
debilitating disease which the academic says was published under his
name when he had not seen analysis of the research it was based on. The
drugs firm denies anything untoward has happened.
In the summer of 2002, Dr Aubrey Blumsohn, a senior lecturer and
honorary consultant in metabolic bone disease at Sheffield University,
was preparing to lead a major research project. One of the world's
largest pharmaceutical firms, Procter and Gamble, had just signed a
£180,000 deal for his research team to carry out a study on one of
their drugs, Actonel.
Actonel is a highly successful medication prescribed by doctors to
nearly one million women around the world every year to treat
osteoporosis. Also known as risedronate, it has been licensed as a
treatment in the UK since 2002, and is known to be safe, with a good
record of reducing the risk of broken hips, spines and wrists.
Blumsohn, who was born in South Africa, joined the Sheffield centre for
bone metabolism research five years ago. He was to lead a third
thorough investigation into the drug to look at how it was affecting
the bones of thousands of women. To do the study, thousands of blood
and urine samples, taken from women in more than 100 research centres
around the world, were analysed in Blumsohn's laboratory in September
2002.
More than 3,000 pages of laboratory data and electronic records had to
be put together by the researchers. Their aim was to look at the
samples collected over a period of three years from women who were on
Actonel, to determine which patients suffered fractures, and match that
to changes in their bone turnover and bone density with their
treatment. Bone turnover, the rate at which the body replaces its own
bone material, is an important factor in osteoporosis.
The data was sent off in December 2002 to be analysed by statisticians
at Procter and Gamble's headquarters in Egham, Surrey. Blumsohn's
colleague, Richard Eastell, professor of bone metabolism at Sheffield,
had worked on previous collaborations with the company, and had
published data prepared by them.
A great deal was at stake for Procter and Gamble, a US company with
headquarters in Cincinnati, Ohio. Its fortune was built on soap and
candles made by the Englishman, William Procter, and the Irishman,
James Gamble, more than 170 years ago. With shrewd investment and its
ownership of leading brands in washing powders and disposable nappies,
it has become a major player in pharmaceuticals.
Actonel is one of P&G's 16 'billion-dollar brands', making the
company between $500m and $1bn each year. But there is intense
competition with its main rival, the drug Fosamax, manufactured by
another pharmaceuticals giant, New Jersey-based Merck.
There has been much debate over how these drugs actually work. It is
known that they do two things: increase the mineral content of the
bone, known as bone mineral density (BMD), and reduce the rate of bone
turnover. Bone is a living tissue which constantly regenerates itself,
by losing and gaining calcium and protein. Bones are always developing
tiny holes which are filled in as new material grows, but as women grow
older the holes are not filled in properly and the bones are weakened.
Both Fosamax and Actonel are 'anti-resorptive agents' - they prevent
the bones from losing material too fast.
Blumsohn asked at an early stage if he could see the way in which the
analysis of his research was being carried out by P&G. The contract
he and Eastell had signed with the company stipulated that their final
written report would include all data, and any interpretation necessary
for analysis.
Although the two experts were providing the raw data from their
laboratory, the numbers were meaningless in themselves because they
were coded. As in all cases of this type of work, the researcher is
'blind' to the details of the data because they might be 'influenced'
by that knowledge. The results cannot be understood until they are
decoded - and P&G possessed the key.
It is standard practice for authors to ask to see details of the work
that is prepared in their name. In fact, medical ethicists would argue
that this should happen as a matter of course. It is, after all, a
doctor's career and reputation which is at stake.
Eastell, who was on the company's UK scientific advisory board, wrote
on Blumsohn's behalf to Ian Barton, a senior statistician at P&G,
asking if Blumsohn could see how the analysis was being carried out. In
an email, Eastell, a highly respected expert in the field, made it
clear he wanted to avoid criticism because questions had already been
raised about how much of the data on the drug's performance he had seen
in the past.
But to his and Blumsohn's surprise, their request was turned down.
Barton replied by email: 'No, we do not intend for someone else to do
the analysis. Resource wise, it wouldn't make sense for me to spend a
lot of time training someone else to do the analyses.'
This was backed up by an email from a senior P&G official, Mike
Manhart, director of clinical development at the company's headquarters
in Cincinnati. He wrote to Eastell: 'I think we should look carefully
at the pros and cons of Dr Blumsohn conducting the analysis you refer
to.
'On the plus side it does add an extra layer of external "credibility".
With this however, Industry [sic] loses the opportunity to demonstrate
its ability to be a true partner in scientific endeavours. Beyond this,
the practical issues to training up a new statistician and the
corresponding delay in "time to result" may make the option difficult.'
Over the next nine months, Blumsohn made several requests to see data, all of which were turned down.
By April 2003, Blumsohn was becoming more worried. P&G staff had
produced their own analyses and submitted two research papers to be
presented at the American Society for Bone and Mineral Research
conference in Minneapolis later that year, with him named as the main
author. This was the main conference for experts on bone metabolism -
where he would be grilled by his peers about the results. Yet he had
still not seen any analysis of data.
The doctor discovered in July that a third paper had been written in
his name, which he was expected to present at the conference. He only
discovered this because someone from P&G wrote to congratulate him
on his success.
The pressure was also on to submit papers for publication in journals.
The company told Blumsohn that they had an 'external medical writer',
Mary Royer, who could help to write it. These 'ghostwriters' are
employed by companies to draft articles which are then submitted in the
name of academics who have given their permission.
Barton emailed Blumsohn on 24 April 2003 to tell him: 'Mary is based in
New York and is very familiar with both the risedronate data and our
key messages, in addition to being well clued up on competitor and
general osteoporosis publications.'
There has been concern about the use of such writers. The Observer
revealed two years ago how hundreds of articles in medical journals
claiming to be written by academics or doctors have been written by
ghostwriters who were paid by drug companies. Papers in journals
backing certain drugs have huge influence on which drugs doctors
prescribe and the treatment hospitals provide. While doctors who have
put their names to the papers can be paid well for doing so, the
ghostwriters remain hidden. However, all medical journals subscribe to
a code of practice which states that authors must be given full access
to data and the interpretation of it.
In another email seen by The Observer, P&G say they want to achieve
a 'paradigm shift' in doctors' attitude to Actonel. Previous research
published by Eastell concluded that there was a 'plateau effect' with
treatment, meaning that it produces benefits but only up to a certain
level of depleted bone density.
One of P&G's rivals, Merck & Co, manufactures Fosamax, the
market leader with sales of nearly $3bn a year worldwide. It was known
to be better at increasing bone density and reducing bone turnover than
Actonel. P&G wanted to be able to prove that once a drug had
suppressed the reduced bone turnover by a certain amount - around 30 to
40 per cent - any further fall in turnover, which Fosamax could
achieve, would not result in fewer fractures.
After numerous approaches P&G finally agreed that Blumsohn could
see limited data at the end of July. He made the trip to P&G's
Egham headquarters and Barton showed him the key graphs on his
computer. Blumsohn was convinced that a different interpretation could
be put on the figures than the one provided by P&G.
He was particularly concerned that around 40 per cent of the data
appeared to have been left off the bottom of the graph. Blumsohn
believed that had the data been included it would have disproved the
plateau effect. As it stood, the graph appeared to support the
existence of such an effect. The drugs company has denied that the data
were in any way inaccurate or 'skewed' to get to the result they wanted.
In a statement to The Observer, the company said: 'For post hoc
exploratory analyses, it is standard industry practice to limit access
to the raw data by external researchers. Typically, analyses developed
by or in collaboration with external researchers will be performed by
company statisticians, and the results shared with the researcher.
'Occasionally, the researcher is given temporary and limited access to
the data, to perform the analyses directly. Our policy is to allow
external researchers sufficient access to the data and to perform those
analyses necessary for them to be confident and comfortable with the
conclusions they state in scientific communications.'
There are senior medical figures who feel this approach is inherently
flawed. Stephen Evans, professor of pharmacoepidemiology at the London
School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine, said that a company should
allow an independent statistician an opportunity to re-run analyses if
this is requested by academic partners.
'If a research partnership is a genuine one then there has to be
complete openness. I don't know how you can put your name to a paper
otherwise,' he told the Times Higher Education Supplement recently. In
a further statement, P&G refuted suggestions that they had not been
fully co-operative: 'The raw clinical data in question were generated
by P&G at great effort and expense,' the company said. 'They are
from the pivotal clinical trials that supported the approval of
risedronate for osteoporosis in many countries. P&G has a very
legitimate proprietary interest in these clinical trial data.
'Dr Blumsohn had full access to the raw clinical data relevant to the
abstracts, posters and presentations published or made in his name and
could (and did) request many additional analyses to make sure he was
fully comfortable with the approach and conclusions.'
In September 2003 Blumsohn told Eastell, a research dean at the
university, that he thought the plotted graphs were misleading. But
Eastell, whose work for the university has attracted research grants
from P&G of £1.6m in recent years, told him that they 'really had
to watch it' with P&G.
Despite Eastell's attempts to get access to the data, he had to tread
carefully. In a conversation which Blumsohn taped, Eastell said: 'The
only thing that we have to watch all the time is our relationship with
P&G. Because we are... we have the big Sheffield Centre Grant which
is a good source of income, we have got to really watch it. So, the
reason why I worry is the network within P&G is like lightning. So
if Ian [Barton] is unhappy it goes to Arkadi [Chines, global medical
director of P&G Pharmaceuticals] and before we know it, there is an
issue, there is a problem.' In December, Eastell again warned him that
they would be in 'even deeper' financial trouble without the funding
from P&G. In November 2003, P&G had in fact amended its
publication brief to include the 40 per cent left off the original
graph.
Blumsohn was still unhappy and in May 2004 Blumsohn put in a formal
complaint to Eastell. His main point contained in a letter was that 'no
self-respecting scientist could ever be expected to publish findings
based on data to which they do not have free and full access'.
Blumsohn then attempted to raise his concerns with the dean of the
university, Professor Tony Weetman, and the vice chancellor, Professor
Bob Boucher. The matter was passed onto the head of human resources for
investigation. In June this year, Blumsohn wrote to her explaining the
saga himself. A month later, after telling the university he was going
to talk to medical journalists about the affair, he received a threat
of disciplinary action. In September he was suspended on the grounds
that 'his conduct over these past months amounts to and constitutes
conduct that is quite incompatible with the duties of office'.
When The Observer asked the university for their response to these
allegations they rebutted the suggestion that they ignored his concerns
about the data. 'In a meeting in May 2004, the Head of School advised
Dr Blumsohn to raise his concerns [about research conduct] through the
proper channels in order for them to be investigated fully in
accordance with the university's policy. No formal complaint was
raised.'
They added: 'Since then, there has been almost continual communication
from the university to Dr Blumsohn urging him to bring forward his
concerns and evidence through the proper channels, in order that they
may be fully and thoroughly investigated.
'The University of Sheffield has offered Dr Blumsohn a range of
procedures, including the offer of an independent investigatory panel,
and direct access to the head of the university's Research Office and
other senior staff. Despite this, the University of Sheffield has not
received any substantive complaint from Dr Blumsohn related to the Bone
Metabolism Unit's work with the pharmaceutical company and thus the
university has not been able to investigate this matter.' Professor
Eastell has also expressed concerns that Blumsohn's claims are
'misleading' and says he would welcome the opportunity to give evidence
to the correct channels.
This weekend, Blumsohn remains suspended, at home with his wife and
children in Sheffield. He sees himself as a whistleblower, revealing
tensions at the heart of the scientific and pharmaceutical world. This
week his allegations will be discussed in parliament as part of a
debate on the pharmaceutical industry. The concerns he has raised about
the way in which medical research is conducted are likely to provoke a
very heated debate.
· Additional reporting by Vivienne Parry
|