Earlier this year, biotech company Moderna broke world records for speed in vaccine development. Their researchers translated the genetic code of the coronavirus into a vaccine candidate in just 42 days.
We're about to expand our safety data in Phase II.
Phase I of the clinical trial started in Seattle on March 16th, with the already-iconic image of volunteer Jennifer Haller calmly receiving the very first dose.
Instead of traditional methods, this vaccine uses a new -- and so far unproven -- technology based on synthetic biology: It hijacks the software of life – messenger RNA – to deliver a copy of the virus's genetic sequence into cells, which, in theory, triggers the body to produce antibodies to fight off a coronavirus infection.
U.S. National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases Director Anthony Fauci called the vaccine's preclinical data "impressive" and told National Geographic this week that a vaccine could be ready for general use as early as January.
The Phase I trial has dosed 45 healthy adults. Phase II trials are about to start, enrolling around 600 adults. Pivotal efficacy trials would follow soon thereafter, bankrolled in collaboration with the government office BARDA (Biomedical Advanced Research and Development Authority).
Today, the chief medical officer of Moderna, Tal Zaks, answered burning questions from the public in a webinar hosted by STAT. Here's an edited and condensed summary of his answers.
1) When will a vaccine become available?
We expect to have data in early summer about the antibody levels from our mRNA vaccine. At the same time, we can measure the antibody levels of people who have had the disease, and we should be able to measure the ability of those antibodies to prevent disease.
We will not yet know if the mRNA vaccine works to prevent disease, but we could soon talk about a potential for benefit. We don't yet know about risk. We're about to expand our safety data in Phase II.
In the summer, there is an expectation that we will be launching pivotal trials, in collaboration with government agencies that are helping fund the research. The trials would be launched with the vaccine vs. a placebo with the goal of establishing: How many cases can we show we prevented with the vaccine?
This is determined by two factors: How big is the trial? And what's the attack rate in the population we vaccinate? The challenge will be to vaccinate in the areas where the risk of infection is still high in the coming months, and we're able to vaccinate and demonstrate fewer infections compared to a placebo. If the disease is happening faster in a given area, you will be able to see an outcome faster. Potentially by the end of the year, we will have the data to say if the vaccine works.
Will that be enough for regulatory approval? The main question is: When will we cross the threshold for the anticipated benefit of a presumed vaccine to be worth the risk?
There is a distinction between approval for those who need it most, like the elderly. Their unmet need and risk/benefit is not the same as it is for younger adults.
My private opinion: I don't think it's a one-size-fits-all. It will be a more measured stance.
2) Can you speed up the testing process with challenge studies, where volunteers willingly get infected?
It's a great question and I applaud the people who ask it and I applaud those signing up to do it. I'm not sure I am a huge fan, for both practical and ethical reasons. The devil is in the details. A challenge study has to show us a vaccine can prevent not just infection but prevent disease. Otherwise, how do I know the dose in the challenge study is the right dose? If you take 100 young people, 90 of them will get mild or no disease. Ten may end up in hospital and one in the ICU.
Also, the timeline. Can it let you skip Phase II of large efficacy trial? The reality for us is that we are about to start Phase II anyway. It would be months before a challenge trial could be designed. And ethically: everybody agrees there is a risk that is not zero of having very serious disease. To justify the risk, we have to be sure the benefit is worth it - that it actually shrunk the timeline. To just give us another data point, I find it hard to accept.
This technology allows us to scale up manufacturing and production.
3) What was seen preclinically in the animal models with Moderna's mRNA vaccines?
We have taken vaccines using our technology against eight different viruses, including two flu strains. In every case, in the preclinical model, we showed we could prevent disease, and when we got to antibody levels, we got the data we wanted to see. In doses of 25-100 micrograms, that usually ends up being a sweet spot where we see an effect. It's a good place as to the expectation of what we will see in Phase I trials.
4) Why is Moderna pursuing an mRNA virus instead of a traditional inactivated virus or recombinant one? This is an untried technology.
First, speed matters in a pandemic. If you have tech that can move much quicker, that makes a difference. The reason we have broken world records is that we have invested time and effort to be ready. We're starting from a platform where it's all based on synthetic biology.
Second, it's fundamental biology - we do not need to make an elaborate vaccine or stick a new virus in an old virus, or try to make a neutralizing but not binding virus. Our technology is basically mimicking the virus. All life works on making proteins through RNA. We have a biological advantage by teaching the immune system to do the right thing.
Third, this technology allows us to scale up manufacturing and production. We as a company have always seen this ahead of us. We invested in our own manufacturing facility two years ago. We have already envisioned scale up on two dimensions. Lot size and vaccines. Vaccines is the easier piece of it. If everybody gets 100 micrograms, it's not a heck of a lot. Prior to COVID, our lead program was a CMV (Cytomegalovirus) vaccine. We had envisioned launching Phase III next year. We had been already well on the path to scale up when COVID-19 caught us by surprise. This would be millions and millions of doses, but the train tracks have been laid.
5) People tend to think of vaccines as an on-off switch -- you get a vaccine and you're protected. But efficacy can be low or high (like the flu vs. measles vaccines). How good is good enough here for protection, and could we need several doses?
Probably around 50-60 percent efficacy is good enough for preventing a significant amount of disease and decreasing the R0. We will aim higher, but it's hard to estimate what degree of efficacy to prepare for until we do the trial. (For comparison, the average flu vaccine efficacy is around 50 percent.)
We anticipate a prime boost. If our immune system has never seen a virus, you can show you're getting to a certain antibody level and then remind the immune system (with another dose). A prime boost is optimal.
My only two competitors are the virus and the clock.
6) How would mutations affect a vaccine?
Coronaviruses tend to mutate the least compared to other viruses but it's entirely possible that it mutates. The report this week about those projected mutations on the spike protein have not been predicted to alter the critical antibodies.
As we scale up manufacturing, the ability to plug in a new genetic sequence and get a new vaccine out there will be very rapid.
For flu vaccine, we don't prove efficacy every year. If we get to the same place with an mRNA vaccine, we will just change the sequence and come out with a new vaccine. The path to approval would be much faster if we leverage the totality of efficacy data like we do for flu.
7) Will there be more than one vaccine and how will they be made available?
I hope so, I don't know. The path to making these available will go through a public-private partnership. It's not your typical commercial way of deploying a vaccine. But my only two competitors are the virus and the clock. We need everybody to be successful.
On the evening of November 28, 1942, more than 1,000 revelers from the Boston College-Holy Cross football game jammed into the Cocoanut Grove, Boston's oldest nightclub. When a spark from faulty wiring accidently ignited an artificial palm tree, the packed nightspot, which was only designed to accommodate about 500 people, was quickly engulfed in flames. In the ensuing panic, hundreds of people were trapped inside, with most exit doors locked. Bodies piled up by the only open entrance, jamming the exits, and 490 people ultimately died in the worst fire in the country in forty years.
"People couldn't get out," says Dr. Kenneth Marshall, a retired plastic surgeon in Boston and president of the Cocoanut Grove Memorial Committee. "It was a tragedy of mammoth proportions."
Within a half an hour of the start of the blaze, the Red Cross mobilized more than five hundred volunteers in what one newspaper called a "Rehearsal for Possible Blitz." The mayor of Boston imposed martial law. More than 300 victims—many of whom subsequently died--were taken to Boston City Hospital in one hour, averaging one victim every eleven seconds, while Massachusetts General Hospital admitted 114 victims in two hours. In the hospitals, 220 victims clung precariously to life, in agonizing pain from massive burns, their bodies ravaged by infection.
The scene of the fire.
Boston Public Library
Tragic Losses Prompted Revolutionary Leaps<p>But there is a silver lining: this horrific disaster prompted dramatic changes in safety regulations to prevent another catastrophe of this magnitude and led to the development of medical techniques that eventually saved millions of lives. It transformed burn care treatment and the use of plasma on burn victims, but most importantly, it introduced to the public a new wonder drug that revolutionized medicine, midwifed the birth of the modern pharmaceutical industry, and nearly doubled life expectancy, from 48 years at the turn of the 20<sup>th</sup> century to 78 years in the post-World War II years.</p><p>The devastating grief of the survivors also led to the first published study of post-traumatic stress disorder by pioneering psychiatrist Alexandra Adler, daughter of famed Viennese psychoanalyst Alfred Adler, who was a student of Freud. Dr. Adler studied the anxiety and depression that followed this catastrophe, according to the <em>New York Times</em>, and "later applied her findings to the treatment World War II veterans."</p><p>Dr. Ken Marshall is intimately familiar with the lingering psychological trauma of enduring such a disaster. His mother, an Irish immigrant and a nurse in the surgical wards at Boston City Hospital, was on duty that cold Thanksgiving weekend night, and didn't come home for four days. "For years afterward, she'd wake up screaming in the middle of the night," recalls Dr. Marshall, who was four years old at the time. "Seeing all those bodies lined up in neat rows across the City Hospital's parking lot, still in their evening clothes. It was always on her mind and memories of the horrors plagued her for the rest of her life."</p><p>The sheer magnitude of casualties prompted overwhelmed physicians to try experimental new procedures that were later successfully used to treat thousands of battlefield casualties. Instead of cutting off blisters and using dyes and tannic acid to treat burned tissues, which can harden the skin, they applied gauze coated with petroleum jelly. Doctors also refined the formula for using plasma--the fluid portion of blood and a medical technology that was just four years old--to replenish bodily liquids that evaporated because of the loss of the protective covering of skin.</p>
From Forgotten Lab Experiment to Wonder Drug<p>In 1928, Alexander Fleming discovered the curative powers of penicillin, which promised to eradicate infectious pathogens that killed millions every year. But the road to mass producing enough of the highly unstable mold was littered with seemingly unsurmountable obstacles and it remained a forgotten laboratory curiosity for over a decade. But Fleming never gave up and penicillin's eventual rescue from obscurity was a landmark in scientific history. </p><p>In 1940, a group at Oxford University, funded in part by the Rockefeller Foundation, isolated enough penicillin to test it on twenty-five mice, which had been infected with lethal doses of streptococci. Its therapeutic effects were miraculous—the untreated mice died within hours, while the treated ones played merrily in their cages, undisturbed. Subsequent tests on a handful of patients, who were brought back from the brink of death, confirmed that penicillin was indeed a wonder drug. But Britain was then being ravaged by the German Luftwaffe during the Blitz, and there were simply no resources to devote to penicillin during the Nazi onslaught.</p><p>In June of 1941, two of the Oxford researchers, Howard Florey and Ernst Chain, embarked on a clandestine mission to enlist American aid. Samples of the temperamental mold were stored in their coats. By October, the Roosevelt Administration had recruited four companies—Merck, Squibb, Pfizer and Lederle—to team up in a massive, top-secret development program. Merck, which had more experience with fermentation procedures, swiftly pulled away from the pack and every milligram they produced was zealously hoarded.</p><p>After the nightclub fire, the government ordered Merck to dispatch to Boston whatever supplies of penicillin that they could spare and to refine any crude penicillin broth brewing in Merck's fermentation vats. After working in round-the-clock relays over the course of three days, on the evening of December 1<sup>st</sup>, 1942, a refrigerated truck containing thirty-two liters of injectable penicillin left Merck's Rahway, New Jersey plant. It was accompanied by a convoy of police escorts through four states before arriving in the pre-dawn hours at Massachusetts General Hospital. Dozens of people were rescued from near-certain death in the first public demonstration of the powers of the antibiotic, and the existence of penicillin could no longer be kept secret from inquisitive reporters and an exultant public. The next day, the <em>Boston Globe</em> called it "priceless" and <em>Time</em> magazine dubbed it a "wonder drug."</p><p>Within fourteen months, penicillin production escalated exponentially, churning out enough to save the lives of thousands of soldiers, including many from the Normandy invasion. And in October 1945, just weeks after the Japanese surrender ended World War II, Alexander Fleming, Howard Florey and Ernst Chain were awarded the Nobel Prize in medicine. But penicillin didn't just save lives—it helped build some of the most innovative medical and scientific companies in history, including Merck, Pfizer, Glaxo and Sandoz. </p><p>"Every war has given us a new medical advance," concludes Marshall. "And penicillin was <em>the</em> great scientific advance of World War II."</p>
Conner Curran was diagnosed with Duchenne's muscular dystrophy in 2015 when he was four years old. It's the most severe form of the genetic disease, with a nearly inevitable progression toward total paralysis. Many Duchenne's patients die in their teens; the average lifespan is 26.
But Conner, who is now 10, has experienced some astonishing improvements in recent years. He can now walk for more than two miles at a time – an impossible journey when he was younger.
In 2018, Conner became the very first patient to receive gene therapy specific to treating Duchenne's. In the initial clinical trial of nine children, nearly 80 percent reacted positively to the treatment). A larger-scale stage 3 clinical trial is currently underway, with initial results expected next year.
Gene therapy involves altering the genes in an individual's cells to stop or treat a disease. Such a procedure may be performed by adding new gene material to existing cells, or editing the defective genes to improve their functionality.
Conner Curran holding a football post gene therapy treatment.
Courtesy of the Curran family