The Conservative NIH

The scientific process is famously conservative. On the one hand, this is a necessary flaw: empiricism requires reproduction, and it's never fun when our view of reality is jolted by some revolutionary new fact. The reputation of science in large part depends upon not endorsing charlatans.

On the other hand, it often seems as if science is excessively conservative. The peer-review process is an essential element of science, but it also discourages original ideas. If you want to publish a bold new paper on, say, the function of the Golgi bodies, then your paper is sent for review to all the eminent figures in the field. Unfortunately, these people have a vested interest in not adopting a new view of the Golgi bodies. After all, our old view is largely their view, and nobody wants to endorse something that makes them look wrong.

Most of the time, the system overcomes its conservative bias, and deserving papers find a way to get published, probably by turning to a less prestigious journal. But the problem of funding can be an even bigger obstacle for creative researchers. Originality is risky, and the NIH - which uses the peer-review process to dole out money - is famously risk averse. The WSJ recently had an article on "Pioneer Awards," which are given out by the NIH to support "exceptionally creative scientists who take highly innovative approaches."

This is an important program, since it tries to counteract the conservative bias built into the funding system. Alas, only 13 Pioneer awards were given out this year, a drop in the bucket of the 46,000 grant proposals the NIH actually receives. This means that too many creative ideas - many of which will, of course, completely fail - will not be funded. That's a big mistake. As Bob Dylan once sang, "there's no success like failure, and failure is no success at all." If the NIH really wants to encourage more creative research, it has to be more willing to encourage failure. This approach looks inefficient in the short-term (nobody wants to fund a mistake), but over the long-term it's the only way to spur real progress.

Gabriel Sosne of Wayne State University, Detroit, wants to study whether a novel molecule, thymosin beta-4, that heals skin wounds can also heal eye wounds (no drugs can). His grant proposal got two raves and one lukewarm review. "They use catch phrases such as 'not mechanistic' to excuse their unwillingness to invest in novel and clinically relevant projects," he says.

Before the current squeeze, says Michigan's Dr. Miller, "you had a 50-50 chance of getting funded if you were good. But now if one of the reviewers has the slightest concern, it's the kiss of death." That puts innovative research in the cross hairs, since one of the three reviewers will likely view it as too risky or just plain wrong. Yet virtually every medical breakthrough rests on an idea that most people once scoffed at. Is this any way to run biomedical research?