As I ran from interview to interview across San Francisco, I was consistently warmed by the stories I was told by biotech and pharma executives—and the general comradery in the air throughout the chaotic event.
I’m warned, very politely, before I even sit down that Biogen will not be able to talk about its unsolicited bid to buy Sage Therapeutics. “But look, look at them all!” I say, gesturing to the hurriedly scribbled questions I added to my notes last minute before I sat down with Head of Development Priyah Singhal. Everyone laughs.
But what kind of journalist would I be if I didn’t ask anyway? So I give my own warning: “I’m going to ask it anyway.”
Singhal replies: “The reason that we’ve talked about it in the public domain is really because we are required to do a regulatory filing, so I won’t be able to comment any further on that.”
With that out of the way, we got on with the rest of our sprawling interview, which touched on Singhal’s passion for breaking through in amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, her long history in Alzheimer’s disease with Aduhelm and now Leqembi. Deals—even if I couldn’t get a word out of her about Sage—I peppered her with questions about what and when Biogen might buy. When you meet with Singhal, her zeal for this job is palpable. She leans in, looks you right in the eye, remembers your name.
This exchange gets to the heart of why I love the J.P. Morgan Healthcare Conference. I just love meeting these people who fill my screen and my keyboard everyday in the incredible stories they give us to report. I also feel like the personal interaction pushes the conversations beyond what I have asked and into the human side of drug development. You just can’t help but share about your kids or your inevitable travel nightmare getting to San Francisco.
I got the same feeling when I interviewed Annemarie Hanekamp, who took over as BioNTech’s Chief Commercial Officer this past summer. She has entered a storied biotech that gave the world one of the first approved COVID-19 shots. While her remit is to develop the commercial team that will help BioNTech reach its goal of becoming an end-to-end drug company, she said she set out in her first months just to listen to the 7,000 employees who worked tirelessly to bring that shot to the masses.
“While Ugur [Sahin] may be the master brain behind [BioNTech], it takes a village to move that,” Hanekamp told me.
She heard stories of how the staff got worked in eight hour shifts round the clock during the pandemic, ensuring that there was no crossover between the teams to reduce the risk of spreading COVID. Chief Legal Officer James Ryan reportedly told Hanekamp that he had just three Sundays off during the pandemic year of 2020.
“Understanding what was the secret sauce that made this all happen is critically important and listening and bringing in my experience in a way that it adds value,” Hanekamp said.
Judging by Hanekamp’s collected stories, the secret sauce is the people.
People were also the stars of the stories shared with me by Shreeram Aradhye, chief medical officer of Novartis. He said that the minds behind Fabhalta happened to all be in the same room at the same time in December 2023 when the news of its approval arrived. Everyone from the chemists who found the drug to the researchers who worked on clinical development over the years to the commercial teams preparing for launch were attending a planning meeting in Florida.
“You can’t hope for this to happen, but when it happens—it was quite magical. There was our entire continuum, and a great reflection of what it takes, the number of years and the complex amount of work and determination and dedication it takes to get something done,” Aradhye said.
He added that scientists in early drug discovery typically know their drug will someday make it to patients but rarely do they get to see the end result. Oftentimes they move on to other opportunities before the cycle is complete and never get to see the FDA approval beyond reading it in the news later on.
“It’s also true that most things you work on in our business don’t get to people,” Aradhye said. “I always tell people that this is like launching a complex expedition . . . that you kind of have a vision of where you want to get to.” But it doesn’t always go to plan, and you must adapt on the spot, he continued.
That’s what many J.P. Morgan attendees were doing across town at The Beacon Grand Hotel as the line for the elevator snaked through the small but appropriately grand lobby. If you dared to take the elevators you ended up packed into a small cube with 10 strangers.
Rather than wait, many were taking their chances on the cramped staircases, where a sense of comradery spread across attendees. As I debated whether I could climb seven flights faster than the elevator would deliver me so I could make a meeting in three minutes, a collective cheer went up for a woman who embarked on a multi-flight journey in three-inch heels.
I was impressed with her ambition as I ultimately chose to take the elevator—which fortunately did deliver me to my meeting on time. And I walked in with a smile on my face thanks to the simple but perfectly timed reminder of what it’s all about: the people.
