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The Political Economy Of FDA Drug Review: Processing, Politics, And Lessons For Policy
U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) drug review bears a structural similarity to many decisions made by other regulatory agencies: high uncertainty, low reversibility, avoidance of observable error, and high political stakes that induce lobbying by interested parties. This paper explores the policy lessons to be learned from viewing FDA drug review as a politically shaped exercise in information processing. I argue that the incentives facing regulators induce limits on the degree to which drug review can be accelerated, that the same incentives could render privatization initiatives problematic, and that political pressures could play a useful role in identifying priority drugs.
Consider two hypothetical consumers, one a pharmaceutical consumer ("patient") who wishes to try a new drug for some ailment, the other a vitamin consumer who wishes to take zinc supplements to ward off a cold or flu. There are few institutional restrictions upon the consumption decisions of the vitamin consumer, at least in the United States. She is free to purchase vitamin products over the counter, and the vitamin manufacturer is free to sell them without prior authorization or licensing. Not so with pharmaceuticals. The marketplace for pharmaceuticals is one of the most highly regulated industries in the U.S. economy.1 To use any new pharmaceutical product, the patient must secure the approval of two agents: a licensed physician and the U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA).2 No discussion of the past, present, or future of the pharmaceutical industry can ignore the critical role played by the FDA in its evolution. The agencys drug review decisions are essentially final (contesting them is extremely difficult and costly) and immensely consequential (regulators in other nations frequently cue off of the FDAs decisions). If the FDA so chooses, it can materially impede the flow of new products to the pharmaceutical marketplace, or it can help accelerate that flow. Just as important, major changes are now occurring at the FDAincluding the merger of its drugs and biologics review divisionsthat will shape the future of the marketplace. In this essay I use some lessons from political science to illuminate the way the FDA operates. My central claim is that FDA drug review is an exercise in learning shaped by organized interests. Both the learning and the politics have some peculiar features. The learningmore specifically, "optimal stopping" (deciding not just if but when to terminate drug review and approve an application)is driven by the FDAs desire to safeguard its reputation for protecting the publics health.3 The politics involves the mobilization of drug-specific lobbiesmainly the firm submitting the drug and the patients for whom the drug is intended. The learning incentive and the politics incentive combine to form a trade-off. The FDA will highly prize new information on a drug and will often delay approval to obtain that information. In most cases, however, there is a political cost to delay, and in recent years that cost has been shaped even more by patients and their lobbies than by pharmaceutical firms. FDA officials seem keenly aware of these trade-offs and of the political difficulties that rejection of a new drug application (NDA) can cause, especially when few or no existing therapies exist for a given disease. In 1991 Paul Leber (then director of the FDAs Division of Neuropharmacological Drug Products) read the initial drug application for Burroughs-Wellcomes Lamictal (lamotrigine) for partial epileptic seizures. He found the NDA to be "disorganized" and poorly keyed to protocols for clinical trials. He considered a "refuse-to-file" (RTF) action, a major embarrassment for the pharmaceutical firm in which the FDA returns the NDA without reviewing it. Yet Leber decided against an RTF, reasoning that since "no new anti-epileptic product had been marketed over the previous 12 years...a refuse to file action, although justified, could have untoward political consequences."4 In this essay I consider the lessons and policy implications of this trade-off. My argument and evidence here are both taken from a larger project on the evolution of pharmaceutical regulation at the FDA over the past half-century. This project entails a massive empirical enterprise, including collection of data on more than 17,000 pharmaceutical products (and more than 2,000 new chemical entities, or NCEs) developed over the past fifty years; more than 250 companies that have submitted NDAs; the epidemiology of more than 250 medical conditions ("primary indications") for which NDAs have been submitted; more than 3,000 disease and patient advocacy groups representing medical conditions for which NDAs have been submitted; and more than 4,000 personnel who have served in the FDA from 1980 to the present.
I posit that the FDA behaves in ways that enhance its reputation for protecting consumer safety and public health. As gauged by public opinion polls, the FDA remains one of the most popular agencies in government, regularly securing 70 percent or greater "approval" of its performance among sampled respondents.5 Buttressing this popularity are powerful symbolic lessons of history: The FDA is widely credited with saving thousands of American lives in its response to the sulfanilamide tragedy of 1937 and the thalidomide scandal of 19591961.6 Congress dramatically strengthened pharmaceutical regulations after each of these events. In short, whether or not the agency deserves it, the FDA clearly possesses a reputation for protecting public health and consumer safety. This reputation did not arise by accident but is the result of refined bureaucratic strategies. FDA officials have labored for years to craft and guard their organizational legitimacy. They have done so through frequent contact with their various constituents: attending professional meetings; giving lectures to ensure that the FDAs perspective on a given issue is heard; and cultivating the advice of academic and medical scientists, particularly on FDA advisory committees.7 Bureaucratic reputations often have multiple audiences. The FDAs reputation is no exception; it has scientific, political, and popular facets. FDA officials want good press (or no bad press) in the news media but also want to preserve a reputation for scientific rigor among academics and medical professionals. As Alison Lawton, a long-time FDA observer, noted recently, "The FDA is very responsive to what I would call opinion leaders in the scientific and medical communities. It cares very much about what these people think as to how the agency is doing."8 Another critical audience lies in Congress, particularly in the committees that oversee the FDA. For much of the FDAs history, these bodies have launched criticisms at the agency for approving drugs too frequently and too quickly, and the FDA appears to sense these criticisms acutely. Commissioner Alexander Schmidt offered some testimony to this effect in 1974: In all of the FDAs history, I am unable to find a single instance where a Congressional committee investigated the failure of FDA to approve a new drug. But, the times when hearings have been held to criticize our approval of new drugs have been so frequent that we arent able to count them... The message to FDA staff could not be clearer. Whenever a controversy over a new drug is resolved by its approval, the Agency and the individuals involved likely will be investigated. Whenever such a drug is disapproved, no inquiry will be made.9 Contrary to the claims of some analysts, there is nothing inherently "selfish" or "inefficient" about reputation protection.10 Reputation is simply a currency of bureaucratic politics. Agencies with strong reputations can more easily attract desired personnel; fend off budget cuts; and lobby for the programs, funds, and other things they desire. There are other things that bureaucracies protect and "maximize," but for many agencies such as the FDA, reputation protection serves as the simplest and most powerful dynamic governing their behavior.11
In reviewing NDAs, the FDA must choose not only whether to approve, but when to approve. Every time the FDA reviews a new drug, it "invests" (takes a chance with) its reputation. There are three critical aspects of this decision. Inherent uncertainty. FDA officials know that even the most successful clinical trials cannot eliminate the possibility that a drug will turn out to be unsafe or inefficacious. Consider, for example, the 1996 review of SmithKline Beechams Requip (ropinerole) for idiopathic Parkinsons disease. In his summary memorandum, FDA official Paul Leber discussed Requips safety data and added an important cautionary note: Because no pharmacologically active drug substance is entirely free of risk, the conclusion that a drug has been shown to be "safe for use," is actually no more than an opinion... Accordingly, risk to benefit assessments are inherently arguable, all the more so because each turns not only on personal sentiments about the nature of risks and benefits of a drug, but upon incomplete and imperfect information concerning the drugs risks.12 Similarly, in 1997 FDA official Rudolph Widmark summarized safety data from Wyeths Duract (bromfenac sodium) for postoperative pain relief and cautioned: In our safety review of NDA study we usually do not get definitive answers based on unequivocal data but are forced to interpret "flagging" events. We think that in the case of bromfenac, we have seen a "liver flag" that can be only fully explored through responsible marketing of the drug.13 Some uncertainty will always remain in drug review, and the marginal benefit of more trials and more delay tends to decline as the drug review gets longer. Asymmetric observability of error. In the language of decision theory, a "Type I error" occurs when a decisionmaker accepts as true a hypothesis that is in fact false. A "Type II error" occurs when a decisionmaker rejects a hypothesis that is in fact true. The FDA, then, may be said to commit a Type I error when it approves a "bad" drug and a Type II error when it fails to approve a drug that should have been approved. For most of the FDAs history, Type I errors have been more visible than Type II errors.14 As the remarks from former Commissioner Schmidt illustrate, the FDA has often been excoriated for approving a bad drug (or approving it too quickly) and only recently has been criticized for approving drugs too slowly. Low (reputational) reversibility. Finally, the damage of a faulty approval decision is difficult to undo. Of course, the FDA can always secure a recall of a faulty product or compel the manufacturer to attach a "black box warning." Yet these steps will only publicize the error that the agency has made. Even though drug approvals are procedurally reversible, the FDA views drug approval as irreversible from the standpoint of reputation. My model of drug review, then, is one in which agency reviewers are conducting a "cost-benefit" analysis of the drug at each moment in the review process. The costs of approval can be thought of as the publicly observable hazards of the drug (the FDA rarely gets criticized for approving a safe but inefficacious drug, again because safety errors are much more visible than efficacy errors). The benefit of approval is to reduce the political pressure that patients, medical professionals, and pharmaceutical firms can apply directly or indirectly upon the FDA (witness the AIDS lobby of the late 1980s and early 1990s). There is a hitch, however, and the problem is not as simple as it might seem. When the FDA sees approval as irreversible, probability decision theory predicts that the FDA will approve a drug only when the benefits of approval exceed both the costs of approval and the benefits of waiting further.15 We can think of the benefits of waiting as the amount of information gleaned from another look at the file, or perhaps another test conducted by the drug company. As it turns out, this "value of waiting" is highest during the earliest stages of review, when the least is known about the drug.16
If neither doctors, patients, nor drug firms could apply public pressure for FDA approvals, the agency would find it much easier to delay drugs indefinitely. The costs of delay are not simply scientific; they are political. That is, they are subject to how well those who demand drugs can press their case before the agency, Congress, the media, and other public fora. Before the 1980s it was rare for anyone outside of clinical or academic circles to criticize the FDA for delay. Put differently, few in the media or in Congress were complaining of the agencys Type II errors. Today the situation is much different, and the political power of patients matters as much as or more than the political power of firms. The best evidence for this proposition comes in two strategies that are now widely adopted by pharmaceutical firms: (1) Firms themselves have in the past six to eight years created, fostered, and subsidized a number of patient advocacy groups; and (2) firms regularly seek alliances with patient advocates in pressing the case for priority status, accelerated approval, or simply approval before the FDA. The second of these is a much more common, and much more successful, strategy. Put differently, politically strategic pharmaceutical firms know that industry lobbying is less successful than patient advocacy, and their regulatory behavior adapts to this fact. FDA drug approval has in recent years been powerfully shaped by two related factors: the increase of patient advocacy groups and the increasing visibility of Type II errors. Patient advocacy groups. The past two decades have witnessed an explosion of interest groups and in no field more dramatically than in health.17 Several studies have shown that the increase is largely attributable to nonprofit and citizens groups. As part of the FDA project, my research team and I have tracked the evolution of disease-advocacy groups over the past half-century. As of 2000 we aggregated more than 3,100 disease-specific advocacy groups with at least some involvement in political issues. We were able to find founding dates for more than half of these groups. We found evidence of an explosion of high-specificity health groups in the 1970s and especially the 1980s.18
Type II errors.
The rise in patient advocacy has led to a balancing of the visibility of Type II versus Type I errors. Before the 1980s it was rare for the publics attention to be drawn to a drug that the FDA had not approved or was reviewing slowly. The AIDS epidemic changed this, less because AIDS protestors changed the FDA than because FDA officials foresaw the extraordinary politics of AIDS and rushed HIV treatments to approval.19 Yet AIDS was only the beginning of a much larger story of disease-based political mobilization in the United States. To a degree never before witnessed, disease-specific lobbies now press Congress for medical research funding, insurers and state governments for favorable coverage rulings, and the FDA for quick approvals (Exhibit 1
Asthma versus arthritis. Although people affected by a variety of diseases generally have begun to mobilize and lobby, not all are organized equally. Consider two examples. By just about any measure of public health, asthma is a more severe problem in the United States than arthritis (including rheumatoid arthritis). Exhibit 1 Yet arthritis receives far more media coverage than asthma does. If we examine coverage in the Washington Post for a given year in the 1990s, there were 105 (nonobituary) stories mentioning asthma that year, but almost twice as many (204) mentioning arthritis. Similarly, during 19671997 there were 117 arthritis-related stories on the nightly newscasts of the three major networks (ABC, NBC, and CBS), but only 78 asthma-related stories.21 Perhaps this is not surprising, since the early 1980s arthritis drugs have consistently been approved with much greater speed (an average of twenty months) than have drugs for asthma (an average of thirty-two months, or a full year more).
Certain cancers.
Consider also the most common and deadly forms of cancerbreast, lung, and prostate. Prostate cancer is the most prevalent of these conditions, and lung cancer is by far the deadliest, but breast cancer has far more organizations, research dollars, media coverage, and quick drug approvals (Exhibit 1 Advocacy groups slow rise. One puzzle is why it took so long for patient and disease advocacy groups to become better organized, given that some have been around a long time. I can only hazard two educated guesses. First, political scientists have characterized the period before the 1970s as one dominated by industry, labor, and trade associations. In the 1980s and 1990s citizens groups came to the fore. Disease and patient advocacy groups thus might be part of a larger trend. Second, the rise of disease advocacy groups could present an example of organizational learning. Many unorganized disease communities, witnessing the political and economic successes of the AIDS and breast cancer advocacy coalitions, have been motivated to form their own groups and to enter the political arena.22 Examples of patients power. As illustrative evidence of the power of patient advocates in publicizing possible Type II errors, consider the recent approval of AstraZenecas Iressa (gefitinib) for Stage III non-small-cell lung cancer patients. Despite strong skepticism from the Center for Drug Evaluation and Research (CDER) statistical reviewer and from industry watchers, the FDA approved Iressa in May 2003, in part for two reasons. First, the Wall Street Journal ran several editorials urging the FDA to approve it (the most vocal on 24 September 2002). So strong and visible was this pressure that FDA officials are reported to have complained to AstraZeneca about the editorials, worried of a link between the company and the editorial page. Second and more important, lung cancer patient advocates strongly supported approval, and several representatives of the groups offered robust and emotional testimony for the drug at a critical FDA advisory committee meeting in September 2002. As one journalist wrote following the meeting, "These patientsall of whom took Iressa through a compassionate use programseemed to be the wild card that really helped AstraZeneca in the end. The company has allowed more than 18,000 patients access to Iressa outside its clinical trials, creating a very vocal and persuasive lobbying voice in the drugs favor."23 Resources. Perhaps the most pervasive influence upon FDA drug approval times has been the presence or absence of plentiful FDA staff to review new applications. One important reason that FDA drug approval times slowed in the 1970s, engendering complaints of a "drug lag," is that the 1962 Amendments to the 1938 Food, Drug, and Cosmetic Act piled many new responsibilities onto the FDA without a proportionate increase in personnel. The median FDA review time for new molecular entities (NMEs) submitted in 1978 was 30.8 months, and 30.0 months in 1983. In other words, the average drug was taking two and a half years to get approved; many others took considerably longer. In recent years this situation has begun to change, particularly with the enactment of the Prescription Drug User Fee Act (PDUFA) of 1992 and subsequent renewals of this legislation. PDUFA is a more complicated law than I can assay here, but its most important provisions create (1) a system of per application "user fees" that fund increases in the reviewer staff at CDER, and (2) an incentive structure whereby the legislation is renewed only if the FDA meets specified performance goals.24 In part because of PDUFA and in part because CDER staff totals began to rise five years before PDUFA, the average review time for NMEs has greatly declined, to thirteen months in 2002. The key here is that FDA staff began to increase appreciably five years before PDUFA was enacted and that the long-run effect of resources on review times is negative and large (with an elasticity of 1.6 to 2.2, meaning that a 10 percent increase in CDER personnel yields a 1622 percent decrease in expected drug approval time). Some statistical evidence. Iressas approval points to two factors: organized patients and media coverage of the disease. One way of assessing the influence of media and patient groups is to conduct a duration analysis of drug review times in which measures for these constructs are included as explanatory variables. Using data on 540 NCEs reviewed by the FDA over the past twenty-five years, I conducted a set of maximum likelihood duration analyses, regressing the approval time for a drug upon (1) a measure of the wealth of advocacy groups that existed for the primary indication disease of the drug; (2) a measure of the amount of news coverage the primary indication disease received in the three years before the NDA was submitted; and (3) a set of controls, including epidemiological variables, fixed effects for the submitting firms, a set of "shared frailties" (akin to random effects) for the primary indications of the drugs, and proxies for the number of previously existing therapies for the drugs primary indication and the staff resources of the FDA.25
Exhibit 2
In short, there is considerable evidencefrom anecdote, from factual inspection of the FDAs behavior, and from statistical analyses of drug review timesthat the political organization and newsworthiness of patients is negatively associated with drug review times (that is, it causes these review times to get shorter). This should come as little surprise to readers aware of the FDAs response to the AIDS epidemic. The statistical analyses reported here suggest that the FDAs responsiveness to disease politics is by no means an artifact of AIDS, but extends to other diseases as well.
Further cuts in approval times? While approval times for NMEs (especially priority drugs) have become shorter during the past fifteen years, one implication of the perspective presented here is that further reductions (if they can be generated at all) are likely to come at a much higher marginal cost. Trimming two months from the median approval time when yearly averages were thirty to thirty-six months was much easier; now that CDER reviewers commonly crank through priority drugs in six months or less, further reductions will likely come only through dramatic procedural change. As CDER official Kenneth Edmunds recently cautioned, "My fear is that there is a law of diminishing returns setting in. It may be expensive to wring that last 5 percent of improvement out of the FDA without some things giving way. All the easy water has been drained out of the system. All the fat is near the bone now."26 Third-party review and privatization? There have been several proposals to rely on non-FDA ("third party") reviewers or to privatize the FDAs review processes. Among these are actual provisions for occasional third-party review in recent legislation (for medical devices in the 1997 FDA Modernization Act, or FDAMA) and proposals from the Hoover Institution to make the FDA a certifier of private reviewers.27 In both cases, reformers wish to exploit interorganizational competition among reviewers to reduce approval times and increase the likelihood of approval. The form and likely effects of privatization are far too complex a subject to be tackled here. Still, it is difficult to believe that the incentives facing FDA drug reviewers would not materialize under privatization. In the simplest case, third-party reviewers would rationally decide to compete not just over quickness in review but also over minimization of visible errors. In the presence of any tort liability, moreover, the procedural conservatism of third-party reviewers might be greater than that under the FDA status quo.28 Whether privatization would still be preferable to the status quo is another issue, but the limits posed by the incentives of drug review ought to be kept in mind. Disease politics as usual? Patient advocacy groups and media attention can accelerate drug review, particularly for diseases that have well-organized advocates and are newsworthy. The problem, as often in politics, is one of inequality: Better-organized and more publicly salient groups get a disproportionate share of the "benefits" (quicker approvals). From a policy standpoint, there are at least two ways of looking at this pattern. One steady conclusion is that it represents an unfortunate (perhaps indefensible) result of distributive politics. Another interpretation would see these political patterns as more benign. With scarce resources, the FDA cannot avoid privileging one disease over another in its drug approval decisions. Moreover, more highly organized and "newsworthy" medical conditions are likely to be (but might not always be) more prevalent, deadlier ones. In short, the FDA must make tough (moral) choices, and disease politics could provide crucial information and guidance in doing so. Pharmaceutical regulation is an immensely complex process, and no combination of theoretical modeling and empirical analysis can ever do it full explanatory justice. There is also much that the FDA does in drug regulation that I have not covered here, including labeling and advertising regulation, the promotion of good manufacturing practices, and the regulation of clinical trials. Nonetheless, viewing FDA drug review as a learning exercise shaped by organized interests sheds illumination upon the process and its policy implications. The FDA protects its reputation, views its approval decisions as irreversible, and responds dramatically to patient advocacy groups and their coverage in the media because they make the consequences of delay and rejection more visible.
Dan Carpenter is a professor of government at Harvard University, in Cambridge, Massachusetts, and a fellow in residence at the Center for Advanced Study in the Behavioral Sciences, Stanford University, in Stanford, California. The author acknowledges the National Science Foundation (Grant no. SES-0076452) for research support and thanks the editor and three anonymous reviewers for criticisms and suggestions. He also acknowledges responsibility for all characterizations, errors, and omissions.
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