I was reading an article the other day that resonated with my experience. The article in question was written by Bill Haseltine, PhD, the eminent biotech entrepreneur.
His article was describing his transition from academia to entrepreneurship, a change in focus that I, too, experienced- about the same time he did. In less spectacular, but parallel, ways.
Bill was an assistant professor at Harvard in the 1970s. And, was content (perhaps even elated) with the work he was doing. He had no overt concept about leaving academia and starting a business. But, he was noticing that biotech businesses were about to become a potent weapon in improving public health.
His compatriots- from around the world- were abandoning tenure-track positions to join biotech startups. Exploiting the very new concept of gene splicing (recombinant DNA) to yield new drugs and vaccines.
And, during a trip to Scripps (the then outstanding research institute in San Diego), he was made aware that using peptide fragments (and not whole viruses or proteins) was a vital, new concept to create new vaccines- and at lower costs than previous processes.
That sparked his creativity. He knew he could treat pets and livestock with a brand new vaccine that would preclude retrovirus infections that led to cancer. And, since he was dealing with pets and livestock, there would be no need to maneuver through the FDA morass. And, with the help of a colleague, he hit up venture capitalists and Wall Street for funds to start his venture. And, came up with a $ 5 million investment.
Well, he thought that meant his path would now be clear. Um, no. Harvard wasn’t exactly thrilled that a tenure-track professor was now in business- and would create his own personal fortune. (Bill did note that many a professor was making big bucks selling textbooks and non-fiction tomes. They were acceptable, obviously, to Harvard. His path was not.)
Except during a meeting with the dean of Harvard Business School (Larry Fouraker), he was informed that a new law would be forcing universities to change their tune. The Bayh-Dole Act demanded universities develop a technology-transfer office to turn new ideas into companies. Since the Federal government sponsored much of academic research, the rules now required the filing of patents on those developments and seek out commercial development of same.
(This is exactly the business that Dvorkovitz and Technology Catalyst were exploiting at the time. I, somehow, got involved in their efforts- and managed to find a fair number of viable technologies to develop, making money for the universities, professors, and private industry.)
That led Dr. Haseltine to pledge a share of his nascent firm (Cambridge BioScience) to the Harvard Endowment fund (he offered 5% equity, that they refused due to “ethical considerations). As he progressed, Bill became a role model and advisor to a slew of faculty members who were starting their own ventures. And, eventually, chaired a committee that would clarify and codify the relationships and rules between professors and their companies at Harvard.
When Cambridge BioScience went public, the 5% equity was converted to cash and donated to Harvard. Which accepted it. (Harvard, like MIT, now requires all professors to pledge a percentage of founding shares and royalties to their institutions.)
Bill’s success led to other ventures. Including one in regenerative medicine. That led to an association with Tony Atala (we covered some of his work here), and a credo: Regenerative medicine is any medicine designed to restore a person to normal health, including cell and stem cell therapies, gene therapy, tissue engineering, genomic medicine, personalized medicine, biomechanical prosthetics, recombinant proteins, and antibody treatments. (You do know there is a Society for Regenerative Medicine, with its own journal- of course.)
Ah, yes. How one who expected to be a world-class professor instead becomes a world class entrepreneur.
