What happens when a biotech takes its talents to South Beach?
No, that’s not yet another joke borrowed from the strange vernacular that has become former Cleveland Cavalier LeBron James’ recent decision to leave the Cleve for Miami.
“This is tough, but … this fall, I am taking my talents to South Beach,” James announced via an overblown, overhyped, hour-long special on ESPN in July called “The Decision.”
The revelation and associated public relations mess sent Cleveland—where ddn is based—as well as sympathetic fans in other cities, into a tailspin. In the months since and leading up to the start of the NBA season, this poorly planned PR tsunami has so dominated headlines and popular culture that even I, who can be quite accurately described as “not a sports fan,” dedicated my monthly column to it in June (see “We are all witnesses … to failure and success”). In the piece, I drew a correlation between Cleveland’s projections of hope and success onto a guy who wears sneakers to work, and the pharma industry’s inability to rebound from some of drug discovery’s most inherent failures, such as failed clinical trials.
The column proved popular among our readers, who very generously took the time to reach out and weigh in on what I described as “misguided frustration.” They were equally opinionated when I penned a “Jeers” to James and his astonishingly short-sighted PR reps in his camp for our August issue.
Most people marveled that I was somehow able to make a comparative leap between professional basketball and Big Pharma work. To tell you the truth, I still don’t know what made me decide to attempt it. But it seems like I am not the only one who thinks that Big Pharma can learn something from South Beachgate.
Weighing in on Bristol-Myers Squibb’s (BMS) recent acquisition of Seattle-based biotech ZymoGenetics—a deal valued at approximately $885 million—Stewart Lyman, owner and manager of Lyman BioPharma Consulting LLC in Seattle, took to an Xconomy blog to draw his own parallel:
“I guess I look at the ZymoGenetics acquisition in the same way that people in Cleveland look at the loss of LeBron James to the Miami Heat,” Lyman writes. “They spent years watching him develop his game to the highest level, only to see him depart just when they were hoping for greatness. Yes, it was his decision to leave, but would the fans be less upset if he had been traded to Miami for a second-round draft choice, just so the team could save payroll?”
Lyman is disappointed that the ZymoGenetics buyout will mean a loss of more than 300 biotech-related jobs from the Seattle area, a region that is ranked third or fourth among U.S. biotech centers, and is a popular destination for start-up companies.
“Publicly traded biotechs are supposed to be acting in the best interests of their shareholders, but this may not align with the best interests of their employees or the greater public at large,” Lyman adds.
According to BMS, the fate of ZymoGenetics’ facilities in Seattle and its 300-plus employees has yet to be decided. But until the deal closes and that announcement is made, Lyman has another sports analogy:
“The Green Bay Packers thrive in the smallest market of any team in professional sports. However, because the people in Green Bay actually own the team, they never have to worry about them leaving town for a bigger market. Could such a model work in biotech?” he wonders.
Speaking of jobs, BMS apparently just announced that it will eliminate about 3 percent of its workforce, or 840 jobs, over the next six months as part of a “streamlining initiative.” Interesting!
What do you think? Is merger and acquisition activity in the pharma/biotech industries a sign of a healthy industry, or does it adversely impact specific geographic regions that are trying to become biotech hubs, creating jobs and producing novel therapeutics in the process?
We’ll discuss the BMS-ZymoGenetics deal in-depth in our upcoming October issue, but in the meantime, feel free to weigh in on this popular topic.
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