Meaningful improvement for patients like Tante Ilse

Last year, after a long delay due to COVID, my father’s ashes were finally laid to rest at Arlington National Cemetery. Among the loved ones who came was my favorite aunt, Tante Ilse, who was suffering from dementia. While she wasn’t “following” everything that was going on, she did perk up when she heard my father’s name and would comment on how she liked him and how wonderful he had been to her.

After the ceremony, our family of about 30 gathered at a restaurant where we shared stories and old pictures. Tante Ilse seemed to relish the photos and the time with family. She was doing so well that when we went back to my mom’s home after the reception, my cousins decided to bring Tante Ilse there, too. She had a great time, as evidenced by her famous total-body laugh. In the months before her death, we all commented about that day and how happy she seemed.

I would have hoped for something better than merely clearing amyloid for my aunt.

My aunt’s decline comes to mind as I reflect on media reports of 2 Alzheimer drugs— aducanumab and lecanemab—that have been billed by some as “gamechangers.” These new drugs are monoclonal antibodies directed at amyloid, one of several agents thought to cause Alzheimer disease. The details of aducanumab’s approval by the US Food and Drug Administration (FDA) generated a great deal of criticism—with good reason.

Two manufacturer-sponsored studies of aducanumab were halted due to futility of finding a benefit.¹ The FDA’s scientific advisory panel recommended against approval due to a lack of evidence that it did anything more than remove amyloid plaque from the brain. And yet aducanumab received accelerated approval from the FDA. (This author collaborated on an additional analysis using data presented to the FDA, after its approval, which also reported no clinically meaningful effects.²) The other agent, lecanemab, also reduces markers of amyloid and was shown to be only moderately better than placebo in decreasing the rate of decline on various measures of cognition.³ Quite notably, both aducanumab and lecanemab, which are administered parenterally, cost more than $25,000 per year^4,5 and cause amyloid-related imaging abnormalities (brain edema or hemorrhage).

Expensive agents without meaningful benefit. So far, neither of these agents has shown a reduction in things that are truly important to our patients and their families/caregivers: a reduction in caregiver burden and a reduction in the need for placement in long-term care facilities.

This is in contrast to cholinesterase inhibitors, which also slow the rate of cognitive decline.⁶ Among the differences that exist between these agents: Cholinesterase inhibitors are taken orally and are available as generics, which cost less than a thousand dollars per year.⁷ Limited data also suggest that they are associated with a lower risk for nursing home placement.^8,9 (A February 2023 search of clinicaltrials.gov did not reveal any completed or planned head-to-head comparisons of monoclonal antibodies and anticholinergic agents.)

Our patients, their families, and caregivers hold out hope for something that will improve the patient’s cognition and extend the meaningful time they have with their loved ones. So far, the best we have to offer falls far short of these goals. I certainly would have hoped for something better than merely clearing amyloid for my aunt.

It’s time that the FDA adopt more rigorous standards requiring new drugs to, among other things, demonstrate meaningful clinical benefits, provide real cost savings, and be safer than currently available therapies. Other nations seem to be able to do this.^10,11 It is bad enough to provide “hope in a bottle”; it is worse when what is offered is false hope.

Last year, after a long delay due to COVID, my father’s ashes were finally laid to rest at Arlington National Cemetery. Among the loved ones who came was my favorite aunt, Tante Ilse, who was suffering from dementia. While she wasn’t “following” everything that was going on, she did perk up when she heard my father’s name and would comment on how she liked him and how wonderful he had been to her.

After the ceremony, our family of about 30 gathered at a restaurant where we shared stories and old pictures. Tante Ilse seemed to relish the photos and the time with family. She was doing so well that when we went back to my mom’s home after the reception, my cousins decided to bring Tante Ilse there, too. She had a great time, as evidenced by her famous total-body laugh. In the months before her death, we all commented about that day and how happy she seemed.

I would have hoped for something better than merely clearing amyloid for my aunt.

My aunt’s decline comes to mind as I reflect on media reports of 2 Alzheimer drugs— aducanumab and lecanemab—that have been billed by some as “gamechangers.” These new drugs are monoclonal antibodies directed at amyloid, one of several agents thought to cause Alzheimer disease. The details of aducanumab’s approval by the US Food and Drug Administration (FDA) generated a great deal of criticism—with good reason.

Two manufacturer-sponsored studies of aducanumab were halted due to futility of finding a benefit.¹ The FDA’s scientific advisory panel recommended against approval due to a lack of evidence that it did anything more than remove amyloid plaque from the brain. And yet aducanumab received accelerated approval from the FDA. (This author collaborated on an additional analysis using data presented to the FDA, after its approval, which also reported no clinically meaningful effects.²) The other agent, lecanemab, also reduces markers of amyloid and was shown to be only moderately better than placebo in decreasing the rate of decline on various measures of cognition.³ Quite notably, both aducanumab and lecanemab, which are administered parenterally, cost more than $25,000 per year^4,5 and cause amyloid-related imaging abnormalities (brain edema or hemorrhage).

Expensive agents without meaningful benefit. So far, neither of these agents has shown a reduction in things that are truly important to our patients and their families/caregivers: a reduction in caregiver burden and a reduction in the need for placement in long-term care facilities.

This is in contrast to cholinesterase inhibitors, which also slow the rate of cognitive decline.⁶ Among the differences that exist between these agents: Cholinesterase inhibitors are taken orally and are available as generics, which cost less than a thousand dollars per year.⁷ Limited data also suggest that they are associated with a lower risk for nursing home placement.^8,9 (A February 2023 search of clinicaltrials.gov did not reveal any completed or planned head-to-head comparisons of monoclonal antibodies and anticholinergic agents.)

Our patients, their families, and caregivers hold out hope for something that will improve the patient’s cognition and extend the meaningful time they have with their loved ones. So far, the best we have to offer falls far short of these goals. I certainly would have hoped for something better than merely clearing amyloid for my aunt.

It’s time that the FDA adopt more rigorous standards requiring new drugs to, among other things, demonstrate meaningful clinical benefits, provide real cost savings, and be safer than currently available therapies. Other nations seem to be able to do this.^10,11 It is bad enough to provide “hope in a bottle”; it is worse when what is offered is false hope.

Last year, after a long delay due to COVID, my father’s ashes were finally laid to rest at Arlington National Cemetery. Among the loved ones who came was my favorite aunt, Tante Ilse, who was suffering from dementia. While she wasn’t “following” everything that was going on, she did perk up when she heard my father’s name and would comment on how she liked him and how wonderful he had been to her.

After the ceremony, our family of about 30 gathered at a restaurant where we shared stories and old pictures. Tante Ilse seemed to relish the photos and the time with family. She was doing so well that when we went back to my mom’s home after the reception, my cousins decided to bring Tante Ilse there, too. She had a great time, as evidenced by her famous total-body laugh. In the months before her death, we all commented about that day and how happy she seemed.

I would have hoped for something better than merely clearing amyloid for my aunt.

My aunt’s decline comes to mind as I reflect on media reports of 2 Alzheimer drugs— aducanumab and lecanemab—that have been billed by some as “gamechangers.” These new drugs are monoclonal antibodies directed at amyloid, one of several agents thought to cause Alzheimer disease. The details of aducanumab’s approval by the US Food and Drug Administration (FDA) generated a great deal of criticism—with good reason.

Two manufacturer-sponsored studies of aducanumab were halted due to futility of finding a benefit.¹ The FDA’s scientific advisory panel recommended against approval due to a lack of evidence that it did anything more than remove amyloid plaque from the brain. And yet aducanumab received accelerated approval from the FDA. (This author collaborated on an additional analysis using data presented to the FDA, after its approval, which also reported no clinically meaningful effects.²) The other agent, lecanemab, also reduces markers of amyloid and was shown to be only moderately better than placebo in decreasing the rate of decline on various measures of cognition.³ Quite notably, both aducanumab and lecanemab, which are administered parenterally, cost more than $25,000 per year^4,5 and cause amyloid-related imaging abnormalities (brain edema or hemorrhage).

Expensive agents without meaningful benefit. So far, neither of these agents has shown a reduction in things that are truly important to our patients and their families/caregivers: a reduction in caregiver burden and a reduction in the need for placement in long-term care facilities.

This is in contrast to cholinesterase inhibitors, which also slow the rate of cognitive decline.⁶ Among the differences that exist between these agents: Cholinesterase inhibitors are taken orally and are available as generics, which cost less than a thousand dollars per year.⁷ Limited data also suggest that they are associated with a lower risk for nursing home placement.^8,9 (A February 2023 search of clinicaltrials.gov did not reveal any completed or planned head-to-head comparisons of monoclonal antibodies and anticholinergic agents.)

Our patients, their families, and caregivers hold out hope for something that will improve the patient’s cognition and extend the meaningful time they have with their loved ones. So far, the best we have to offer falls far short of these goals. I certainly would have hoped for something better than merely clearing amyloid for my aunt.

It’s time that the FDA adopt more rigorous standards requiring new drugs to, among other things, demonstrate meaningful clinical benefits, provide real cost savings, and be safer than currently available therapies. Other nations seem to be able to do this.^10,11 It is bad enough to provide “hope in a bottle”; it is worse when what is offered is false hope.