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 India and China are happy hunting grounds for U.S.  pharmaceutical companies looking for talented  scientists.
US giants are rushing to partner with Indian and  Chinese companies -- tapping their brainpower and saving millions of dollars in  the search for breakthrough treatments.
 In her swank headquarters just blocks from some of  Mumbai's worst slums, Swati Piramal is midway through an impassioned pitch about  revolutionizing the world of drug discovery. Sanskrit passages of the Bhagavad  Gita, the ancient Hindu text that guides her business philosophy, adorn the  office walls of her company, Piramal Life Sciences. Its logo is gyan mudra, a  finger gesture used in yoga meditation resembling the Western sign for  "A-O.K."
 Journey now to Bangalore. After a crawl through the  city's notorious traffic and a bone-rattling ride over a cratered road that  washes away with each rainfall, the four-wheel-drive van arrives at the  glistening, ocean liner-shaped headquarters of Jubilant Biosys. The laboratories  inside are world-class. But when equipment fails, repairs often take a week,  scientist Ajith Kamath explains sheepishly. Lunch is Domino's pizza with  toppings that include corn, Indian paneer cheese, and hot spices. Turns out  Jubilant is co-owner of India's Domino's franchise.
 At first glance, companies such as Jubilant and  Piramal may seem too undeveloped -- or perhaps just too culturally remote -- to  rub shoulders with the world's top pharmaceutical makers. But judging from all  the deals taking shape in India, they may have a critical role to play in the  industry's future. In recent months, Western executives have been flocking to  India's hastily built science parks, looking for allies in the never-ending  quest to develop blockbuster treatments. With little fanfare, they've started a  process that could lead to wide-scale outsourcing of drug research to  Asia.
 Five Western companies have formed drug discovery  partnerships with Jubilant, including Eli Lilly, Amgen, and Forest Laboratories.  Lilly is also partnering with Piramal, as is Merck. Every month deals are signed  with India's elite pharmaceutical companies. The goal is to take promising  compounds discovered by the multinationals, run tests to weed out the weakest  candidates, and develop some of the others into marketable drugs. Eventually the  Indian partners also hope to rack up scientific breakthroughs that lead to  entirely new medicines for diseases such as Alzheimer's, cancer, or  diabetes.
 Looking beyond India's potholed streets and  poverty, Western drug executives say they've forged a powerful model for  research collaboration. The timing is no accident. Despite spending billions at  home on technologies to turn gene-based discoveries into new medicines,  pharmaceutical companies are struggling to come up with revolutionary products  that will pull them out of a five-year slump with virtually no revenue growth.  In desperation, the drug giants are paying hefty premiums to swallow biotech  companies -- witness Roche's $44 billion bid to purchase Genentech in  July.
 What the multinationals now seek from India is the  same combination of brainpower and cost savings that made the subcontinent a  leader in software and computer services. Some Western companies are  volunteering to share intellectual-property rights on new discoveries and even  divvy up the profits. "It's a transformation of the R&D enterprise," says  Robert W. Armstrong, Lilly's vice-president for global external research. "We  have to think in a totally different mode."
 The rush east, where five PhD chemists can be had  for the cost of one in the West, entails risks. At a time when Pfizer,  AstraZeneca and others are slashing U.S. R&D jobs by the thousands, the  buildup in Asia is bound to set off alarms that America is sacrificing another  key industry through radical outsourcing. But if the strategy works, it could  save the drug industry billions of dollars, bring down the prices of new drugs,  and accelerate breakthroughs.
 The impact of research outsourcing will be  amplified greatly as China, with an even bigger pool of biochemists, expands its  role. Lilly, Sanofi-Aventis, and others have already struck up partnerships  there. China has "extraordinary potential," says Eric J. Topol, former chief  cardiologist at the Cleveland Clinic, who advises HUYA Bioscience, a drug  licensing venture based in San Diego. China could yield "a flood of potentially  important therapies. It's just a matter of time."
 The East-West research collaborations are new and  have yet to produce a single drug. But many Western executives say they're  stunned at how quickly the Indian industry is achieving targets set by the joint  ventures. Just a few decades ago, India was a outcast in the pharma business. To  the outrage of Western multinationals, New Delhi in the 1970s declared it would  cease honoring patents on pharmaceuticals.
 Thousands of generic drugmakers then sprouted up,  reverse-engineering Western medicines and distributing them in India and in  other developing countries. The Indian executives argued they were providing a  social service, selling antibiotics, say, for a fraction of what Western patent  holders demanded. In the 1990s, Indian generics makers Cipla and Ranbaxy  Laboratories started selling AIDS cocktails in India and Africa at just $1 per  dose.
 Even Indian drug executives, however, realized the  knockoff business is a dead end. Almost all of India's top pharma managers say  their cherished goal is to stamp out diseases in the Third World. That will  require breakthrough medicines, not factories full of pirated generics. They  also recognize the only way to jump-start a modern industry is through  collaboration with Western drug companies. So in 2003, New Delhi reversed course  and said it would protect the rights of foreign patent holders.
 The first collaborations involved fairly simple lab  work, mainly to save on labor costs. The Indians wanted more responsibility. But  while India had plenty of good chemists who could crank out drug knockoffs, it  lacked biologists with the deep knowledge and experience to develop novel  compounds.
 When Sandeep Gupta, a former Forest Labs research  director, toured Indian pharma companies in 2006, he urged the CEOs to import  talent fast. "I told them unless they expanded their biology capability, I  couldn't [make deals] with them," he says. Soon, local drugmakers were snatching  up thousands of Indian-born biologists who had trained abroad and offering them  leadership opportunities. Jubilant nabbed Kamath, a 14-year veteran of Pfizer,  to head its nascent structural biology department, and V.N. Balaji, who had  worked at Monsanto and Allergan, as chief scientific officer. The company  quickly expanded its team of 50 chemists and drug discovery experts to an army  of 700. "If you told me five years ago this would all be here today, I would  have replied 'no way,' " Kamath says.
 Over time, the partnerships evolved into  co-development arrangements. The turning point was a 2003 collaboration between  GlaxoSmithKline and Ranbaxy. Glaxo handed over novel compounds thought to have  medicinal value and offered its Indian partner a share of the  intellectual-property rights and millions in royalties if it could help develop  a commercial drug. Western drug companies have announced about $400 million  worth of such deals so far, but the total value is probably much higher.  BristolMyersSquibb, for example, has expanded a research partnership with  Bangalore-based Biocon. It includes a state-of-the-art research facility that  will house 400 scientists --the cost of which has not been  announced.
 For the Western partners, the first objective in  these alliances is to cut costs. In the U.S., specialized research outsourcing  firms will charge a drug company $250,000 and up for the full-time services of a  PhD chemist. With an Indian partner, the same work can be done for roughly  one-fifth the cost. But what Western companies long for, more than anything, is  to replenish their drug development pipelines. It can cost as much as $100  million to nurture a potential drug from a germ of an idea to the point where it  is tested in people. After all that, the odds of any drug winning Food &  Drug Administration approval are just 1 in 8. By conducting many experiments in  low-cost Asia, the drug companies believe they can run more projects while  keeping R&D budgets flat. In other words, they gain "more shots on goal" --  a phrase that gets repeated so frequently you'd think it's a quote from a sacred  Indian text.
 The other catchphrase that comes up constantly is  "fail fast, fail cheap." When scientists study potential drugs in the test tube  and then in animals, they detect many problems that ultimately cause drugs to  fail, such as toxic side effects or inadequate absorption in the body. Killing  projects at that stage is essential, because most of the cost to develop a drug  -- a few hundred million dollars, typically -- comes later, during human  clinical trials. In effect, Western drugmakers want to front-load the failures  through early-stage screening in India, says C.S.N. Murthy, CEO of  Bangalore-based Aurigene. "Here, you can get four failures for the price of  one."
 In the early days, Western executives were  suspicious of their Indian partners with their history of drug knockoffs. Yet  they were also powerfully attracted. Mervyn Turner, a senior research  vice-president at Merck, says his first trip to India in November 2007 was  "mind-blowing." He was impressed by the local companies' yearning to do  world-class research and by their passionate, charismatic leaders. In Mumbai, he  met Piramal, the Harvard-educated daughter of a textile mogul, who explained  that she chose medicine to find a cure for polio. She's "a force of nature," he  says.
 A look inside Forest Lab's partnership with  Aurigene shows both the strengths of the new research model and the hurdles it  faces. Forest has given Aurigene some prized, proprietary data on how novel  drugs might attack metabolic disorders such as diabetes. Aurigene's job is to  screen a library of therapeutic chemicals and come up with a drug. Each company  has assigned three senior staff to a "joint research council," and parallel  teams of chemists and biologists keep in constant touch via teleconferences.  Murthy says speed is of the essence. While large U.S. labs struggle with  bureaucracy, "in a place like this, a scientist makes some computations in the  morning, and by the afternoon he has all the data. He doesn't call a meeting. He  walks up to a colleague and stands over him until he gets what he needs." Forest  and Aurigene recently designed a drug and started animal tests in just three  months -- a quick kick-off by U.S. and European standards.
 Western drug companies are giving Asian partners  more responsibilities than they ever imagined. Suven Life Sciences, an Indian  startup in Hyderabad, is co-developing drugs for brain diseases with Lilly. As  part of the deal, Suven can work on its own drugs for Alzheimer's, obesity, and  Parkinson's disease, provided they don't compete with jointly developed  products. Early on, Lilly sought to impose restrictions on Suven's own research.  "We didn't have any flexibility," says CEO Venkat Jasti. But as the relationship  evolved, Jasti prevailed on his U.S. partners to toss that paperwork in the  trash. "We can't do it the Lilly way," Jasti says. "Innovation comes from  freedom."
  
  
