International 2023 Nobel Prize In Medicine go to mRNA Pioneering Doctors Katalin Kariko and Drew Weissman

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Nobel Prize for Medicine goes to Katalin Kariko and Drew Weissman, pioneers of COVID vaccine



STOCKHOLM, Oct 2 (Reuters) - Hungarian scientist Katalin Kariko and U.S. colleague Drew Weissman, who met in line for a photocopier before making mRNA molecule discoveries that paved the way for COVID-19 vaccines, won the 2023 Nobel Prize for Medicine on Monday.

"The laureates contributed to the unprecedented rate of vaccine development during one of the greatest threats to human health in modern times," the Swedish award-giving body said in the latest accolade for the pair.

The prize, among the most prestigious in the scientific world, was selected by the Nobel Assembly of Sweden's Karolinska Institute medical university and comes with 11 million Swedish crowns (about $1 million) to share between them.

Kariko, a former senior vice president and head of RNA protein replacement at German biotech firm BioNTech, is a professor at the University of Szeged in Hungary and adjunct professor at the University of Pennsylvania (UPenn).

"We are not working for any kind of reward," Kariko, who struggled for years to find grants for her research, said in remarks alongside Weissman at UPenn's Philadelphia campus, a few hours after she was awoken by the call from Stockholm. "The importance was to have a product which is helpful."

Co-winner Weissman, a professor in vaccine research also at UPenn, said it was a "lifetime dream" to win and recalled working intensely with Kariko for more than 20 years, including middle-of-the-night emails as they both suffered disturbed sleep.

In 2005, Kariko and Weissman developed so-called nucleoside base modifications, which stop the immune system from launching an inflammatory attack against lab-made mRNA, previously seen as a major hurdle against any therapeutic use of the technology.

"We couldn't get people to notice RNA as something interesting," Weissman said on Monday. "Pretty much everybody gave up on it."

MASS USE

BioNTech said in June that about 1.5 billion people across the world had received its mRNA shot, co-developed with Pfizer. It was the most widely used shot in the West.

Having grown up in a village in a house without running water or a refrigerator, Kariko got a biochemistry doctorate in Szeged before she and her husband sold their Soviet-made Lada car, sewed some cash into their daughter's teddy bear and went to the U.S. on a one-way ticket.

The daughter, Susan Francia, became a U.S. national rower and Olympic gold winner.

At UPenn, Kariko tried to turn mRNA into a treatment tool throughout the 1990s but struggled to win grants because work on DNA and gene therapy captured most of the scientific community's attention at the time.

Kariko has said she endured ridicule from university colleagues for her dogged pursuit, and her failure to secure research grants led to UPenn demoting her from a full-time professor track in 1995.

Weissman received his doctorate from Boston University in 1987 and joined UPenn in 1997.

The two have said they met and began chatting in 1998 while waiting for rationed photocopying machine time.

"Maybe you have some more copy machines now," Kariko said at UPenn on Monday. "I bragged about how I can do RNA, and Drew was interested in vaccines, and that is how our collaboration started."

Sir Andrew Pollard, an immunology professor at Oxford University who pursued a different technology when co-developing the lesser-used COVID vaccine by AstraZeneca, said it was "absolutely right that the ground-breaking work" done by Kariko and Weissman should be recognised by the Nobel committee.

PANDEMIC BREAKTHROUGH

Messenger or mRNA, discovered in 1961, is a natural molecule that serves as a recipe for the body's production of proteins. Use of lab-made mRNA to instruct human cells to make therapeutic proteins, long regarded as impossible, was commercially pioneered during the pandemic, also by Moderna.

Prospective mRNA uses include cancer therapies and vaccines against malaria, influenza and rabies.

The medicine prize kicks off this year's Nobel awards with the remaining five to be unveiled in coming days.

The prizes, first handed out in 1901, were created by Swedish dynamite inventor and wealthy businessman Alfred Nobel.

Last year's medicine prize went to Swede Svante Paabo for sequencing the genome of the Neanderthal and other past winners include Alexander Fleming, who shared the 1945 prize for the discovery of penicillin.

"If you don't enjoy what you are doing then you shouldn't do it," Kariko said on Monday. "If you want to be rich, I don't know the answer for that. But if you would like to solve problems, then science is for you."


Reporting by Niklas Pollard, Johan Ahlander in Stockholm, Ludwig Burger in Frankfurt, Krisztina Than in Budapest, Terje Solsvik in Oslo and Jonathan Allen in New York; Editing by Andrew Cawthorne.

https://www.reuters.com/business/he...icine-nobel-covid-19-vaccine-work-2023-10-02/
 
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A Penn official once told Katalin Karikó she was ‘not of faculty quality.’ Her work there just won a Nobel Prize.
Penn rejected scientist Katalin Karikó for a tenure-track post, telling her that she didn’t measure up. Her work helped pave the way to COVID vaccines.
by Tom Avril | Published Oct. 7, 2023

KWDGJDIZ5JCFTEBZTMGQTRORQQ.jpg



Every year, Katalin Karikó met with her University of Pennsylvania department chair to update him on her quest to treat disease with messenger RNA — fragile, inflammatory genetic molecules that were so difficult to work with that most scientists thought it was a waste of time.

Every year, he listened to her passionate description of the science for a few minutes, then chastised her for not contributing to the department’s all-important metric: “dollars per net square footage” of lab space.

The bottom line: Penn had rejected Karikó for a tenure-track position years earlier because she failed to secure funds for her research, and she still hadn’t managed to come up with any.

As the world now knows, Karikó proved her naysayers wrong. She and Penn colleague Drew Weissman won the Nobel Prize in medicine Monday for their research, which paved the way for COVID-19 vaccines that are credited with saving millions of lives. The school has reaped more than $1 billion in royalties from licensing patents it took out on their discoveries.

“We are bursting with pride,” university president Liz Magill said at a news conference with the two scientists.

But in an autobiography that comes out Tuesday, Karikó describes years of struggle to get her ideas accepted by Penn colleagues and the broader scientific community. Even after 2005, when she and Weissman published the first of several studies showing how mRNA could be used in a vaccine, she was rebuffed in her attempts to seek a tenured position, she says in Breaking Through: My Life in Science, published by Crown.

“I was told that I was ‘not of faculty quality,’” she wrote, describing a conversation with an unidentified administrator at Penn’s Perelman School of Medicine.

Her account illustrates the competitive, constantly churning treadmill of academic science, where success is defined by money and the publication of studies in scientific journals — neither of which occurs without the other. Scientists can’t conduct their experiments without money for chemicals, lab animals, and other supplies, yet in order to secure that funding, they have to provide the results of experiments. Which requires money.

The result is that many successful scientists learn to practice what is called grantsmanship, namely publishing safe, incremental advances to keep the funds coming.

Karikó chafed under that system, instead aiming for a high-risk target — using mRNA to fight disease — that most of her peers thought was unattainable. She did it working in lowly, non-tenured positions for more than two decades, finding a home in the labs of a few sympathetic colleagues who could spare the funds. Frustrated, she finally left Penn in 2013 for a German start-up called BioNTech, which would one day collaborate with Pfizer to make the first COVID vaccine.

Asked whether Karikó should have been granted tenure, the university responded with this statement:

“Dr. Katalin Karikó and Dr. Drew Weissman are outstanding scientists, whose discoveries helped pave the way for developing the life-saving vaccines deployed in the global fight against COVID-19. The recognition of their important work with the Nobel Prize is deeply deserved. We acknowledge and are grateful for the valuable contributions Dr. Karikó has made to science and to Penn throughout her time with the university.”

https://www.inquirer.com/health/university-pennsylvania-refused-tenure-katalin-kariko-20231007.html
 
University of Pennsylvania slammed for celebrating Nobel prize of vaccine researcher it once demoted
University once reportedly discouraged Katalin Karikó from pursuing mRNA research that later helped create Covid vaccines

AFP_33XA2AF.jpg


The University of Pennsylvania has been criticised for celebrating the Nobel prize win of Drew Weissman and Katalin Karikó for their work on vaccines as it once allegedly encouraged the latter from pursuing her signature research or risk losing tenure.

The pair won the prestigious prize for their work on mRNA and its potential in vaccines, developments that later were key parts of the rapid creation of multiple companies’ Covid vaccines.

After the prize was announced, the University of Pennsylvania celebrated the win publicly, referring to the two as “Penn’s historic mRNA vaccine research team”.

Though both researchers remain associated with the university – Dr Weissman as a professor of vaccine research and Dr Karikó as an adjunct professor of neurosurgery – some argued Penn was taking false credit for a research project it once discouraged.

In 1995, when research on mRNA vaccines was still in its earlier stages, the university allegedly discouraged Dr Karikó from pursuing her work and demoted her from a faculty position.

“They told me that they’d had a meeting and concluded that I was not of faculty quality,” she told WIRED. “When I told them I was leaving, they laughed at me and said, ‘BioNTech doesn’t even have a website’.”

”It was particularly horrible as that same week, I had just been diagnosed with cancer,” she said.

“I was facing two operations, and my husband, who had gone back to Hungary to pick up his green card, had got stranded there because of some visa issue, meaning he couldn’t come back for six months. I was really struggling, and then they told me this.”

In 2013, Dr Karikó left her lab at the university’s school of medicine to join BioNTech, a pharma firm which helped develop one of the leading Covid vaccines.

“In the future, this lab will be a museum,” she reportedly told the school, according to a profile in Glamour. “Don’t touch it.”



“Where is the damn apology @penn ???” Dr Eric Feigl-Ding, an epidemiologist and health economist at New England Complex Systems Institute, wrote on X under a university statement about the Nobel.

“@Penn should stop making these misleading celebrations,” added Pradeep Raamana, a neuroscientist with the Open Mins Lab.



“Did they just claim Katalin Karikó as a Penn affiliated Nobel Prize winner after refusing her tenure in 1995 for not being ‘faculty quality’? Where’s the apology?” wrote Nooshin Samimi, a PhD Candidate at UPenn Anthropology.

“Yeah, definitely could have read the room on this one,” wrote astrobiologist Graham Lau on X.



“@penn isn’t looking good for their part in the whole story. If anything, your institution is coming out looking like it should issue a very sincere apology and accept some responsibility for the kinds of problems that drive so many away from academia these days.”

https://www.independent.co.uk/news/science/nobel-prize-katalin-kariko-upenn-criticism-b2423517.html
 
It just shows how big double face Americans are. I mean I know it is like that in usa and they play like that but to do this to a women and try to get into her spotlight and say how they helped and then when media moves on theybwill treat her the same way is just double faced
 
Nobel Prize winner Katalin Karikó was ‘demoted 4 times’ at her old job. How she persisted: ‘You have to focus on what’s next’
Published Fri, Oct 6 202

107312381-1696540973199-gettyimages-1702010316-nobelprizepenn-1022023-markmakela2.jpeg


It took only a few hours for the BioNTech-Pfizer Covid-19 vaccine to be created. Moderna created its Covid vaccine in two days.

Katalin Karikó, a biochemist and researcher, started working on the science that made both of them possible in 1989.

On Monday, Karikó, along with her collaborator Drew Weissman, won the Nobel Prize in Physiology and Medicine. But her journey to prestige has been punctuated with more hurdles than catalysts.

“I was demoted four times,” Karikó, 68, tells CNBC Make It of her time at the University of Pennsylvania, where she was a research assistant professor before eventually being pushed out.

Karikó says her interest in mRNA, the genetic messenger that sends DNA instructions to make specific proteins, was often dismissed. While she thought it had “promise,” many scientists didn’t see her vision, which made it difficult for her to obtain grant money, she says.

The University of Pennsylvania did not respond to CNBC Make It’s request for comment.

It’s clear, and impressive, that Karikó didn’t take those obstacles personally.

“Don’t focus on what you cannot change,” she says. “Because you are fired, don’t start to feel sorry for yourself. You just have to focus on what’s next because that’s what you can change.”

‘I always emphasize the positive’

Karikó relates her setbacks like facts instead of tragedies.

Born in Hungary, Karikó earned her Ph.D. at the University of Szeged and did her postdoctoral work at its Biological Research Center. After a few years, the university ran out of money and eliminated her position.

“We were out of money, so that’s it,” she says.

Then, Temple University biochemistry professor Robert J. Suhadolnik invited her to be a postdoctoral student in Philadelphia. She, her husband, and her two-year-old daughter Susan immigrated in 1985.

A few years after she and Suhadolnik began working together, she got another job offer, which she accepted. Suhadolnik didn’t receive the news well, she says. According to Gregory Zuckerman’s 2021 book “A Shot to Save the World,” Suhadolnik told immigration officials that Karikó was living in the country illegally, and she had to hire a lawyer to fight deportation; as a result of the legal issues, the new employer withdrew its job offer.

Still, she says she was never angry with Suhadolnik, who died in 2016. “I learned so much, and I always emphasize the positive. He was just upset that after three years I had a job offer somewhere else. ... But when I went back years later, I gave a lecture. He was there, and I was thankful. So I’m just grateful he invited me to this country and I could do things.”

After one year at the Uniformed Services University of the Health Sciences, in Bethesda, Maryland, she got a job offer at the University of Pennsylvania.

At UPenn, she often struggled to get grants and bounced from lab to lab.

In medical school in the United States, researchers are responsible for applying for grants to fund their work. If you’re not doing research, you need to teach or work with patients. Karikó says she wasn’t doing the latter two and her grant money was not coming in.

“If I don’t bring in the money I don’t deserve the working space,” she says. “So that’s the rule. Every university is like that.”

After her Nobel Prize win brought out stories of her career struggles, those in the academic community were quick to point out how hard it is for researchers in the U.S., especially those from another country, to fund their research.

You’re more likely to get grants if you’re a tenured faculty member, but you’re more likely to get promoted to tenure if you get grants, Eric Feigl-Ding, an epidemiologist at the New England Complex Systems Institute told CNBC Make It. Feigl-Ding was formerly a faculty member and researcher at Harvard Medical School.

“There is a vicious cycle,” he says.

If you’re an immigrant, it’s even more difficult to get tenure, Feigl-Ding says: “There are biases. If you have a Ph.D. from an American Ivy League [university], that’s better compared to if you have a degree from a foreign university.”

Universities also tend to look at how much a researcher publishes, or how widely covered by the media their work is, as opposed to how innovative the research is.

The type of work Karikó does, Feigl-Ding says, doesn’t make splashy headlines, because groundbreaking work rarely does.

“Nobel Prizes are slow, tedious, methodical lab work,” he says. “Albert Einstein didn’t publish that many papers. But in this day and age volume is king.”

Karikó, too, knows that a lack of name recognition was a hindrance for her.

“I was nobody,” she says. “I was not a famous speaker. So many immigrant scientists are like that. Every time when I get an award, I am thinking about them. Why I didn’t stop researching is because I did not crave recognition.”

None of these setbacks dulled her interest in mRNA or embittered her about the scientific community, she says.

“You don’t have to hold a grudge against somebody, because it poisons you and the other person won’t even remember,” she says.

Instead, she chooses to focus on the scientists who did see potential in her work, such as Weissman. When she ran into him at a photocopier shortly after his arrival at UPenn in 1997, he told her he wanted to make an HIV vaccine. She said she could do that.

Their paper on how mRNA might be used to deliver new instructions to diseased cells was published in 2005 and met with no fanfare. In 2008, an assistant professor at Harvard Medical School stumbled across it and elaborated on it to publish his own research in 2010, crediting both Karikó and Weissman.

In 2013, Karikó joined BioNTech, which was later tasked with designing the Covid-19 vaccine.

Karikó’s career seems like an exercise in rejection. What kept her going, she says, wasn’t that she felt like her long hours would eventually pay off with worldwide recognition, but that she didn’t care if they did. There was constant progress, she says, even if it wasn’t noticed or celebrated.

“I felt successful when others considered me unsuccessful because I was in full control of what I was doing,” she says.

When she talks to younger generations, she emphasizes that they should just focus on the work. If you learn something new, that’s a win.

“Young ones are always comparing themselves to each other,” she says. “Like, ‘Oh, he works less and is advancing more and getting more money.’ It is such a distraction. There will always be somebody who is the favorite. If I would have paid attention to the fact that I’m there on Saturday and Sunday and these people are not there and they get money and get the grants and they are promoted and they are not knowing so many things, then I wouldn’t be here.”

She credits her ability to handle adversity to Hans Selye, a Hungarian endocrinologist who pioneered stress research. She read his work when she was 16.

“He said you have to learn how to make negative stress into positive stress,” she says.

In other words, you need to see things that challenge you as motivating, not debilitating.

https://www.cnbc.com/2023/10/06/nobel-prize-winner-katalin-karik-on-being-demoted-perseverance-.html
 
These are the doctors who did that Ivermectin horse dewormer research, on covid 19, right?
 
I don't think the dig at Penn makes a lot of sense. She could be a great research scientist and a terrible professor. Those skills are quite different.
I've worked with physicists and their end goal was to be researchers but job security in a science faculty is what pays the bill.
 
Didn't they give this to Obama for some peacekeeping reasons right before he bombed civilians and went back on promises of peace?

Who gives a shit about the clown show? It's like Hollywood award shows, a bunch of pricks jerking each other off as if we should be interested...
 
Nobel Prize winner Katalin Karikó was ‘demoted 4 times’ at her old job. How she persisted: ‘You have to focus on what’s next’
Published Fri, Oct 6 202

107312381-1696540973199-gettyimages-1702010316-nobelprizepenn-1022023-markmakela2.jpeg


It took only a few hours for the BioNTech-Pfizer Covid-19 vaccine to be created. Moderna created its Covid vaccine in two days.

Katalin Karikó, a biochemist and researcher, started working on the science that made both of them possible in 1989.

On Monday, Karikó, along with her collaborator Drew Weissman, won the Nobel Prize in Physiology and Medicine. But her journey to prestige has been punctuated with more hurdles than catalysts.

“I was demoted four times,” Karikó, 68, tells CNBC Make It of her time at the University of Pennsylvania, where she was a research assistant professor before eventually being pushed out.

Karikó says her interest in mRNA, the genetic messenger that sends DNA instructions to make specific proteins, was often dismissed. While she thought it had “promise,” many scientists didn’t see her vision, which made it difficult for her to obtain grant money, she says.

The University of Pennsylvania did not respond to CNBC Make It’s request for comment.

It’s clear, and impressive, that Karikó didn’t take those obstacles personally.

“Don’t focus on what you cannot change,” she says. “Because you are fired, don’t start to feel sorry for yourself. You just have to focus on what’s next because that’s what you can change.”

‘I always emphasize the positive’

Karikó relates her setbacks like facts instead of tragedies.

Born in Hungary, Karikó earned her Ph.D. at the University of Szeged and did her postdoctoral work at its Biological Research Center. After a few years, the university ran out of money and eliminated her position.

“We were out of money, so that’s it,” she says.

Then, Temple University biochemistry professor Robert J. Suhadolnik invited her to be a postdoctoral student in Philadelphia. She, her husband, and her two-year-old daughter Susan immigrated in 1985.

A few years after she and Suhadolnik began working together, she got another job offer, which she accepted. Suhadolnik didn’t receive the news well, she says. According to Gregory Zuckerman’s 2021 book “A Shot to Save the World,” Suhadolnik told immigration officials that Karikó was living in the country illegally, and she had to hire a lawyer to fight deportation; as a result of the legal issues, the new employer withdrew its job offer.

Still, she says she was never angry with Suhadolnik, who died in 2016. “I learned so much, and I always emphasize the positive. He was just upset that after three years I had a job offer somewhere else. ... But when I went back years later, I gave a lecture. He was there, and I was thankful. So I’m just grateful he invited me to this country and I could do things.”

After one year at the Uniformed Services University of the Health Sciences, in Bethesda, Maryland, she got a job offer at the University of Pennsylvania.

At UPenn, she often struggled to get grants and bounced from lab to lab.

In medical school in the United States, researchers are responsible for applying for grants to fund their work. If you’re not doing research, you need to teach or work with patients. Karikó says she wasn’t doing the latter two and her grant money was not coming in.

“If I don’t bring in the money I don’t deserve the working space,” she says. “So that’s the rule. Every university is like that.”

After her Nobel Prize win brought out stories of her career struggles, those in the academic community were quick to point out how hard it is for researchers in the U.S., especially those from another country, to fund their research.

You’re more likely to get grants if you’re a tenured faculty member, but you’re more likely to get promoted to tenure if you get grants, Eric Feigl-Ding, an epidemiologist at the New England Complex Systems Institute told CNBC Make It. Feigl-Ding was formerly a faculty member and researcher at Harvard Medical School.

“There is a vicious cycle,” he says.

If you’re an immigrant, it’s even more difficult to get tenure, Feigl-Ding says: “There are biases. If you have a Ph.D. from an American Ivy League [university], that’s better compared to if you have a degree from a foreign university.”

Universities also tend to look at how much a researcher publishes, or how widely covered by the media their work is, as opposed to how innovative the research is.

The type of work Karikó does, Feigl-Ding says, doesn’t make splashy headlines, because groundbreaking work rarely does.

“Nobel Prizes are slow, tedious, methodical lab work,” he says. “Albert Einstein didn’t publish that many papers. But in this day and age volume is king.”

Karikó, too, knows that a lack of name recognition was a hindrance for her.

“I was nobody,” she says. “I was not a famous speaker. So many immigrant scientists are like that. Every time when I get an award, I am thinking about them. Why I didn’t stop researching is because I did not crave recognition.”

None of these setbacks dulled her interest in mRNA or embittered her about the scientific community, she says.

“You don’t have to hold a grudge against somebody, because it poisons you and the other person won’t even remember,” she says.

Instead, she chooses to focus on the scientists who did see potential in her work, such as Weissman. When she ran into him at a photocopier shortly after his arrival at UPenn in 1997, he told her he wanted to make an HIV vaccine. She said she could do that.

Their paper on how mRNA might be used to deliver new instructions to diseased cells was published in 2005 and met with no fanfare. In 2008, an assistant professor at Harvard Medical School stumbled across it and elaborated on it to publish his own research in 2010, crediting both Karikó and Weissman.

In 2013, Karikó joined BioNTech, which was later tasked with designing the Covid-19 vaccine.

Karikó’s career seems like an exercise in rejection. What kept her going, she says, wasn’t that she felt like her long hours would eventually pay off with worldwide recognition, but that she didn’t care if they did. There was constant progress, she says, even if it wasn’t noticed or celebrated.

“I felt successful when others considered me unsuccessful because I was in full control of what I was doing,” she says.

When she talks to younger generations, she emphasizes that they should just focus on the work. If you learn something new, that’s a win.

“Young ones are always comparing themselves to each other,” she says. “Like, ‘Oh, he works less and is advancing more and getting more money.’ It is such a distraction. There will always be somebody who is the favorite. If I would have paid attention to the fact that I’m there on Saturday and Sunday and these people are not there and they get money and get the grants and they are promoted and they are not knowing so many things, then I wouldn’t be here.”

She credits her ability to handle adversity to Hans Selye, a Hungarian endocrinologist who pioneered stress research. She read his work when she was 16.

“He said you have to learn how to make negative stress into positive stress,” she says.

In other words, you need to see things that challenge you as motivating, not debilitating.

https://www.cnbc.com/2023/10/06/nobel-prize-winner-katalin-karik-on-being-demoted-perseverance-.html
Some turds float.

No one gets demoted 4 times without being a moron on some level.
 
I don't have the scientific expertise to comment on who should win the Nobel Prize in Medicine but given the sheer magnitude of their work and the immense positive impact that it has already had on the world, they seem like fitting winners.

From what I read, the core of the mRNA technology has many many other potential applications. Hopefully we all continue to benefit from their scientific discoveries for years to come.
 
can the mods set up some sort of link where the greatest minds of Sherdog can send their incredibly insightful google links directly to the Nobel Selection Committee?

I think that there may be some stuff that the Nobel Committee failed to consider when they made their decision.

Don't get me wrong - I love learning new stuff. But to really really make a difference this sort of insight needs to escape the bounds of this forum
 
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