My biotech plants are dead

This article first appeared in The Checkup, MIT Technology Review’s weekly biotech newsletter. To receive it in your inbox every Thursday, and read articles like this first, sign up here. 

Six weeks ago, I pre-ordered the “Firefly Petunia,” a houseplant engineered with genes from bioluminescent fungi so that it glows in the dark. 

After years of writing about anti-GMO sentiment in the US and elsewhere, I felt it was time to have some fun with biotech. These plants are among the first direct-to-consumer GM organisms you can buy, and they certainly seem like the coolest.

But when I unboxed my two petunias this week, they were in bad shape, with rotted leaves. And in a day, they were dead crisps. My first attempt to do biotech at home is a total bust, and it cost me $84, shipping included.

My plants did arrive in a handsome black box with neon lettering that alerted me to the living creature within. The petunias, about five inches tall, were each encased in a see-through plastic pod to keep them upright. Government warnings on the back of the box assured me they were free of Japanese beetles, sweet potato weevils, the snail Helix aspera, and gypsy moths.

The problem was when I opened the box. As it turns out, I left for a week’s vacation in Florida the same day that Light Bio, the startup selling the petunia, sent me an email saying “Glowing plants headed your way,” with a UPS tracking number. I didn’t see the email, and even if I had, I wasn’t there to receive them. 

That meant my petunias sat in darkness for seven days. The box became their final sarcophagus.

My fault? Perhaps. But I had no idea when Light Bio would ship my order. And others have had similar experiences. Mat Honan, the editor in chief of MIT Technology Review, told me his petunia arrived the day his family flew to Japan. Luckily, a house sitter feeding his lizard eventually opened the box, and Mat reports the plant is still clinging to life in his yard.

ANTONIO REGALADO

But what about the glow? How strong is it? 

Mat says so far, he doesn’t notice any light coming from the plant, even after carrying it into a pitch-dark bathroom. But buyers may have to wait a bit to see anything. It’s the flowers that glow most brightly, and you may need to tend your petunia for a couple of weeks before you get blooms and see the mysterious effect.  

“I had two flowers when I opened mine, but sadly they dropped and I haven’t got to see the brightness yet. Hoping they will bloom again soon,” says Kelsey Wood, a postdoctoral researcher at the University of California, Davis. 

She would like to use the plants in classes she teaches at the university. “It’s been a dream of synthetic biologists for so many years to make a bioluminescent plant,” she says. “But they couldn’t get it bright enough to see with the naked eye.”

Others are having success right out of the box. That’s the case with Tharin White, publisher of EYNTK.info, a website about theme parks. “It had a lot of protection around it and a booklet to explain what you needed to do to help it,” says White. “The glow is strong, if you are [in] total darkness. Just being in a dark room, you can’t really see it. That being said, I didn’t expect a crazy glow, so [it] meets my expectations.”

That’s no small recommendation coming from White, who has been a “cast member” at Disney parks and an operator of the park’s Avatar ride, named after the movie whose action takes place on a planet where the flora glows. “I feel we are leaps closer to Pandora—The World of Avatar being reality,” White posted to his X account.

Chronobiologist Brian Hodge also found success by resettling his petunia immediately into a larger eight-inch pot, giving it flower food and a good soaking, and putting it in the sunlight. “After a week or so it really started growing fast, and the buds started to show up around day 10. Their glow is about what I expected. It is nothing like a neon light but more of a soft gentle glow,” says Hodge, a staff scientist at the University of California, San Francisco.

In his daily work, Hodge has handled bioluminescent beings before—bacteria mostly—and says he always needed photomultiplier tubes to see anything. “My experience with bioluminescent cells is that the light they would produce was pretty hard to see with the naked eye,” he says. “So I was happy with the amount of light I was seeing from the plants. You really need to turn off all the lights for them to really pop out at you.”

Hodge posted a nifty snapshot of his petunia, but only after setting his iPhone for a two-second exposure.

Light Bio’s CEO Keith Wood didn’t respond to an email about how my plants died, but in an interview last month he told me sales of the biotech plant had been “viral” and that the company would probably run out of its initial supply. To generate new ones, it hires commercial greenhouses to place clippings in water, where they’ll sprout new roots after a couple of weeks. According to Wood, the plant is “a rare example where the benefits of GM technology are easily recognized and experienced by the public.”

Hodge says he got interested in the plants after reading an article about combating light pollution by using bioluminescent flora instead of streetlamps. As a biologist who studies how day and night affect life, he’s worried that city lights and computer screens are messing with natural cycles.

“I just couldn’t pass up being one of the first to own one,” says Hodge. “Once you flip the lights off, the glow is really beautiful … and it sorta feels like you are witnessing something out of a futuristic sci-fi movie!” 

It makes me tempted to try again. 

Now read the rest of The Checkup

From the archives 

We’re not sure if rows of glowing plants can ever replace streetlights, but there’s no doubt light pollution is growing. Artificial light emissions on Earth grew by about 50% between 1992 and 2017—and as much as 400% in some regions. That’s according to Shel Evergreen,in his story on the switch to bright LED streetlights.

It’s taken a while for scientists to figure out how to make plants glow brightly enough to interest consumers. In 2016, I looked at a failed Kickstarter that promised glow-in-the-dark roses but couldn’t deliver.  

Another thing 

Cassandra Willyard is updating us on the case of Lisa Pisano, a 54-year-old woman who is feeling “fantastic” two weeks after surgeons gave her a kidney from a genetically modified pig. It’s the latest in a series of extraordinary animal-to-human organ transplants—a technology, known as xenotransplantation, that may end the organ shortage.

From around the web

Taiwan’s government is considering steps to ease restrictions on the use of IVF. The country has an ultra-low birth rate, but it bans surrogacy, limiting options for male couples. One Taiwanese pair spent $160,000 to have a child in the United States.  (CNN)

Communities in Appalachia are starting to get settlement payments from synthetic-opioid makers like Johnson & Johnson, which along with other drug vendors will pay out $50 billion over several years. But the money, spread over thousands of jurisdictions, is “a feeble match for the scale of the problem.” (Wall Street Journal)

A startup called Climax Foods claims it has used artificial intelligence to formulate vegan cheese that tastes “smooth, rich, and velvety,” according to writer Andrew Rosenblum. He relates the results of his taste test in the new “Build” issue of MIT Technology Review. But one expert Rosenblum spoke to warns that computer-generated cheese is “significantly” overhyped.

AI hype continued this week in medicine when a startup claimed it has used “generative AI” to quickly discover new versions of CRISPR, the powerful gene-editing tool. But new gene-editing tricks won’t conquer the main obstacle, which is how to deliver these molecules where they’re needed in the bodies of patients. (New York Times).

Brain-cell transplants are the newest experimental epilepsy treatment

This article first appeared in The Checkup, MIT Technology Review’s weekly biotech newsletter. To receive it in your inbox every Thursday, and read articles like this first, sign up here.

Justin Graves was managing a scuba dive shop in Louisville, Kentucky, when he first had a seizure. He was talking to someone and suddenly the words coming out of his mouth weren’t his. Then he passed out. Half a year later he was diagnosed with temporal-lobe epilepsy.

JUSTIN GRAVES

Graves’s passion was swimming. He’d been on the high school team and had just gotten certified in open-water diving. But he lost all that after his epilepsy diagnosis 17 years ago. “If you have ever had seizures, you are not even supposed to scuba-dive,” Graves says. “It definitely took away the dream job I had.”

You can’t drive a car, either. Graves moved to California and took odd jobs, at hotels and dog kennels. Anywhere on a bus line. For a while, he drank heavily. That made the seizures worse. 

Epilepsy, it’s often said, is a disease that takes people hostage.

So Graves, who is now 39 and two and half years sober, was ready when his doctors suggested he volunteer for an experimental treatment in which he got thousands of lab-made neurons injected into his brain. 

“I said yes, but I don’t think I understood the magnitude of it,” he says. 

The treatment, developed by Neurona Therapeutics, is shaping up as a breakthrough for stem-cell technology. That’s the idea of using embryonic human cells, or cells converted to an embryonic-like state, to manufacture young, healthy tissue.

And stem cells could badly use a win. There are plenty of shady health clinics that say stem cells will cure anything, and many people who believe it. In reality, though, turning these cells into cures has been a slow-moving research project that, so far, hasn’t resulted in any approved medicines.

But that could change, given the remarkable early results of Neurona’s tests on the first five volunteers. Of those, four, including Graves, are reporting that their seizures have decreased by 80% and more. There are also improvements in cognitive tests. People with epilepsy have a hard time remembering things, but some of the volunteers can now recall an entire series of pictures.

“It’s early, but it could be restorative,” says Cory Nicholas, a former laboratory scientist who is the CEO of Neurona. “I call it activity balancing and repair.”

Starting with a supply of stem cells originally taken from a human embryo created via IVF, Neurona grows “inhibitory interneurons.” The job of these neurons is to quell brain activity—they tell other cells to reduce their electrical activity by secreting a chemical called GABA.

Graves got his transplant in July. He was wheeled into an MRI machine at the University of California, San Diego. There, surgeon Sharona Ben-Haim watched on a screen as she guided a ceramic needle into his hippocampus, dropping off the thousands of the inhibitory cells. The bet was that these would start forming connections and dampen the tsunami of misfires that cause epileptic seizures.

Ben-Haim says it’s a big change from the surgeries she performs most often. Usually, for bad cases of epilepsy, she is trying to find and destroy the “focus” of misbehaving cells causing seizures. She will cut out part of the temporal lobe or use a laser to destroy smaller spots. While this kind of surgery can stop seizures permanently, it comes with the risk of “major cognitive consequences.” People can lose memories, or even their vision. 

That’s why Ben-Haim thinks cell therapy could be a fundamental advance. “The concept that we can offer a definitive treatment for a patient without destroying underlying tissue would be potentially a huge paradigm shift in how we treat epilepsy,” she says. 

Nicholas, Neurona’s CEO, is blunter. “The current standard of care is medieval,” he says. “You are chopping out part of the brain.”

For Graves, the cell transplant seems to be working. He hasn’t had any of the scary “grand mal” attacks, that kind can knock you out, since he stopped drinking. But before the procedure in San Diego, he was still having one or two smaller seizures a day. These episodes, which feel like euphoria or déjà vu, or an absent blank stare, would last as long as half a minute. 

Now, in a diary he keeps as part of the study to count his seizures, most days Graves circles “none.”

LUIS FUENTEALBA AND DANIEL CHERKOWSKY

Other patients in the study are also telling stories of dramatic changes. A woman in Oregon, Annette Adkins, was having seizures every week; but now hasn’t had one for eight consecutive months, according to Neurona. Heather Longo, the mother of another subject, has also said her son has gone for periods without any seizures. She’s hopeful his spirits are picking up and said that his memory, balance, and cognition, are improving.

Getting consistent results from a treatment made of living cells is not going to be easy, however. One volunteer in the study saw no benefit, at least initially, while Graves’s seizures tapered away so soon after the procedure that it’s unclear whether the new cells could have caused the change, since it can takes weeks for them to grow out synapses and connect to other cells.

“I don’t think we really understand all the biology,” says Ben-Haim.

Neurona plans a larger study to help sift through cause and effect. Nicholas says the next stage of the trial will enroll 30 volunteers, half of whom will undergo “sham” surgeries. That is, they’ll all don surgical gowns, and doctors will drill holes into their skulls. But only some will get the cells; for the rest it will be play-acting. That is to rule out a placebo effect or the possibility that, somehow, simply passing a needle into the brain has some benefit.

JUSTIN GRAVES

Graves tells MIT Technology Review he is sure the cells helped him. “What else could it be? I haven’t changed anything else,” he says.

Now he is ready to believe he can get parts of his life back. He hopes to swim again. And if he can drive, he plans to move home to Louisville to be near his parents. “Road trips were always something I liked,” he says. “One of the plans I had was to go across the country. To not have any rush to it and see what I want.”

Now read the rest of The Checkup 

Read more from MIT Technology Review’s archive

This summer, I checked into what 25 years of research using embryonic stem cells had delivered. The answer: lots of hype and no cures…yet.

Earlier this month, Cassandra Willyard wrote about the many scientific uses of “organoids.” These blobs of tissue (often grown from stem cells) mimic human organs in miniature and are proving useful for testing drugs and studying viral infections. 

Our 2023 list of young innovators to watch included Julia Joung, who is discovering the protein factors that tell stem cells what to develop into.

There’s a different kind of stem cell in your bone marrow—the kind that makes blood. Gene-editing these cells can cure sickle-cell disease. The process is grueling, though. In December, one patient, Jimi Olaghere, told us his story.

From around the web

The share of abortions that are being carried out with pills in the US continues to rise, reaching 63%. The trend predates the 2022 Supreme Court decision allowing states to bar doctors from providing abortions. Since then, more women may have started getting the pills outside the formal health-care system. (New York Times)

Excitement over pricey new weight-loss drugs is causing “pharmaco-amnesia,” Daniel Engber says. People are forgetting there were already some decent weight-loss pills that he says were “half as good … for one-30th the price.” (The Atlantic)

There’s a bird flu outbreak among US dairy cattle. It’s troubling to see a virus jump species, but so far, it’s not that bad for cows. “It was kind of like they had a cold,” one source told the AP. (Associated Press)

How scientists traced a mysterious covid case back to six toilets

This article first appeared in The Checkup, MIT Technology Review’s weekly biotech newsletter. To receive it in your inbox every Thursday, and read articles like this first, sign up here.

This week I have a mystery for you. It’s the story of how a team of researchers traced a covid variant in Wisconsin from a wastewater plant to six toilets at a single company. But it’s also a story about privacy concerns that arise when you use sewers to track rare viruses back to their source. 

That virus likely came from a single employee who happened to be shedding an enormous quantity of a very weird variant. The researchers would desperately like to find that person. But what if that person doesn’t want to be found?

A few years ago, Marc Johnson, a virologist at the University of Missouri, became obsessed with weird covid variants he was seeing in wastewater samples. The ones that caught his eye were odd in a couple of different ways: they didn’t match any of the common variants, and they didn’t circulate. They would pop up in a single location, persist for some length of time, and then often disappear—a blip. Johnson found his first blip in Missouri. “It drove me nuts,” he says. “I was like, ‘What the hell was going on here?’” 

Then he teamed up with colleagues in New York, and they found a few more.

Hoping to pin down even more lineages, Johnson put a call out on Twitter (now X) for wastewater. In January 2022, he got another hit in a wastewater sample shipped from a Wisconsin treatment plant. He and David O’Connor, a virologist at the University of Wisconsin, started working with state health officials to track the signal—from the treatment plant to a pumping station and then to the outskirts of the city, “one manhole at a time,” Johnson says. “Every time there was a branch in the road, we would check which branch [the signal] was coming from.”

They chased some questionable leads. The researchers were suspicious the virus might be coming from an animal. At one point O’Connor took people from his lab to a dog park to ask dog owners for poop samples. “There were so many red herrings,” Johnson says.

Finally, after sampling about 50 manholes, the researchers found the manhole, the last one on the branch that had the variant. They got lucky. “The only source was this company,” Johnson says. Their results came out in March in Lancet Microbe. 

Wastewater surveillance might seem like a relatively new phenomenon, born of the pandemic, but it goes back decades. A team of Canadian researchers outlines several historical examples in this story. In one example, a public health official traced a 1946 typhoid outbreak to the wife of a man who sold ice cream at the beach. Even then, the researcher expressed some hesitation. The study didn’t name the wife or the town, and he cautioned that infections probably shouldn’t be traced back to an individual “except in the presence of an outbreak.”

In a similar study published in 1959, scientists traced another typhoid epidemic to one woman, who was then banned from food service and eventually talked into having her gallbladder removed to eliminate the infection. Such publicity can have a “devastating effect on the carrier,” they remarked in their write-up of the case. “From being a quiet and respected citizen, she becomes a social pariah.”

When Johnson and O’Connor traced the virus to that last manhole, things got sticky. Until that point, the researchers had suspected these cryptic lineages were coming from animals. Johnson had even developed a theory involving organic fertilizer from a source further upstream. Now they were down to a single building housing a company with about 30 employees. They didn’t want to stigmatize anyone or invade their privacy. But someone at the company was shedding an awful lot of virus. “Is it ethical to not tell them at that point?” Johnson wondered.

O’Connor and Johnson had been working with state health officials from the very beginning. They decided the best path forward would be to approach the company, explain the situation, and ask if they could offer voluntary testing. The decision wasn’t easy. “We didn’t want to cause panic and say there’s a dangerous new variant lurking in our community,” Ryan Westergaard, the state epidemiologist for communicable diseases at the Wisconsin Department of Health Services, told Nature. But they also wanted to try to help the person who was infected. 

The company agreed to testing, and 19 of its 30 employees turned up for nasal swabs. They were all negative.

That may mean one of the people who didn’t test was carrying the infection. Or could it mean that the massive covid infection in the gut didn’t show up on a nasal swab? “This is where I would use the shrug emoji if we were doing this over email,” O’Connor says.

At the time, the researchers had the ability to test stool samples for the virus, but they didn’t have approval. Now they do, and they’re hoping stool will lead them to an individual infected with one of these strange viruses who can help answer some of their questions. Johnson has identified about 50 of these cryptic covid variants in wastewater. “The more I study these lineages, the more I am convinced that they are replicating in the GI tract,” Johnson says. “It wouldn’t surprise me at all if that’s the only place they were replicating.” 

But how far should they go to find these people? That’s still an open question. O’Connor can imagine a dizzying array of problems that might arise if they did identify an individual shedding one of these rare variants. The most plausible hypothesis is that the lineages arise in individuals who have immune disorders that make it difficult for them to eliminate the infection. That raises a whole host of other thorny questions: what if that person had a compromised immune system due to HIV in addition to the strange covid variant? What if that person didn’t know they were HIV positive, or didn’t want to divulge their HIV status? What if the researchers told them about the infection, but the person couldn’t access treatment? “If you imagine what the worst-case scenarios are, they’re pretty bad,” O’Connor says.

On the other hand, O’Connor says, they think there are a lot of these people around the country and the world. “Isn’t there also an ethical obligation to try to learn what we can so that we can try to help people who are harboring these viruses?” he asks.

Now read the rest of The Checkup

More from MIT Technology Review

Longevity specialists aim to help people live longer and healthier lives. But they have yet to establish themselves as a credible medical field. Expensive longevity clinics that cater to the wealthy worried well aren’t helping. Jessica Hamzelou takes us inside the quest to legitimize longevity medicine.

Drug developers bet big on AI to help speed drug development. But when will we see our first generative drug? Antonio Regalado has the story. 

Read more from MIT Technology Review’s archive

The covid pandemic brought the tension between privacy and public health into sharp relief, wrote Karen Hao in 2020. 

That same year Genevieve Bell argued that we can reimagine contact tracing in a way that protects privacy.

In 2021, Antonio Regalado covered some of the first efforts to track the spread of covid variants using wastewater.  

Earlier this year I wrote about using wastewater to track measles. 

From around the web

Surgeons have transplanted a kidney from a genetically engineered pig into a 62-year-old man in Boston. (New York Times)
→ Surgeons transplanted a similar kidney into a brain-dead patient in 2021. (MIT Technology Review) 
→ Researchers are also looking into how to transplant other organs. Just a few months ago, surgeons connected a genetically engineered pig liver to another brain-dead patient. (MIT Technology Review)

The FDA has approved a new gene therapy for a rare but fatal genetic disorder in children. Its $4.25 million price tag will make it the world’s most expensive medicine, but it promises to give children with the disease a shot at a normal life. (CNN)
→ Read Antonio Regalado’s take on the curse of the costliest drug. (MIT Technology Review)

People who practice intermittent fasting have an increased risk of dying of heart disease, according to new research presented at the American Heart Association meeting in Chicago. There are, of course, caveats. (Washington Post and Stat)

Some parents aren’t waiting to give their young kids the new miracle drug to treat cystic fibrosis. They’re starting the treatment in utero. (The Atlantic) 

Brazil is fighting dengue with bacteria-infected mosquitos

This article first appeared in The Checkup, MIT Technology Review’s weekly biotech newsletter. To receive it in your inbox every Thursday, and read articles like this first, sign up here.

As dengue cases continue to rise in Brazil, the country is facing a massive public health crisis. The viral disease, spread by mosquitoes, has sickened more than a million Brazilians in 2024 alone, overwhelming hospitals.

The dengue crisis is the result of the collision of two key factors. This year has brought an abundance of wet, warm weather, boosting populations of Aedes aegypti, the mosquitoes that spread dengue. It also happens to be a year when all four types of dengue virus are circulating. Few people have built up immunity against them all.   

Brazil is busy fighting back.  One of the country’s anti-dengue strategies aims to hamper the mosquitoes’ ability to spread disease by infecting the insects with a common bacteria—Wolbachia. The bacteria seems to boost the mosquitoes’ immune response, making it more difficult for dengue and other viruses to grow inside the insects. It also directly competes with viruses for crucial molecules they need to replicate. 

The World Mosquito Program breeds mosquitoes infected with Wolbachia in insectaries and releases them into communities. There they breed with wild mosquitoes. Wild females that mate with Wolbachia-infected males produce eggs that don’t hatch. Wolbachia-infected females produce offspring that are also infected. Over time, the bacteria spread throughout the population. Last year I visited the program’s largest insectary—a building in Medellín, Colombia, buzzing with thousands of mosquitoes in netted enclosures— with a group of journalists. “We’re essentially vaccinating mosquitoes against giving humans disease,” said Bryan Callahan, who was director of public affairs at the time.

The World Mosquito Program first began releasing Wolbachia mosquitoes in Brazil in 2014. The insects now cover an area with a population of more than 3 million across five municipalities: Rio de Janeiro, Niterói, Belo Horizonte, Campo Grande, and Petrolina.

In Niterói, a community of about 500,000 that lies on the coast just across a large bay from Rio de Janeiro, the first small pilot releases began in 2015, and in 2017 the World Mosquito Program began larger deployments. By 2020, Wolbachia had infiltrated the population. Prevalence of the bacteria ranged from 80% in some parts of the city to 40% in others. Researchers compared the prevalence of viral illnesses in areas where mosquitoes had been released with a small control zone where they hadn’t released any mosquitoes. Dengue cases declined by 69%. Areas with Wolbachia mosquitoes also experienced a 56% drop in chikungunya and a 37% reduction in Zika.

How is Niterói faring during the current surge? It’s early days. But the data we have so far are encouraging. The incidence of dengue is one of the lowest in the state, with 69 confirmed cases per 100,000 people. Rio de Janeiro, a city of nearly 7 million, has had more than 42,000 cases, an incidence of 700 per 100,000.

“Niterói is the first Brazilian city we have fully protected with our Wolbachia method,” says Alex Jackson, global editorial and media relations manager for the World Mosquito Program. “The whole city is covered by Wolbachia mosquitoes, which is why the dengue cases are dropping significantly.”

The program hopes to release Wolbachia mosquitoes in six more cities this summer. But Brazil has more than 5,000 municipalities. To make a dent in the overall incidence in Brazil, the program will have to release millions more mosquitoes. And that’s the plan.

The World Mosquito Program is about to start construction on a mass rearing facility—the biggest in the world—in Curitiba. “And we believe that will allow us to essentially cover most of urban Brazil within the next 10 years,” Callahan says.

There are also other mosquito-based approaches in the works. The UK company Oxitec has been providing genetically modified “friendly” mosquito eggs to Indaiatuba, Brazil, since 2018. The insects that hatch—all males—don’t bite. And when they mate, their female offspring don’t survive, reducing populations. 

Another company, Forrest Brasil Tecnologia, has been releasing sterile male mosquitoes in parts of Ortigueira. When these males mate with wild females, they produce eggs that don’t hatch.  From November 2020 to July 2022, the company recorded a 98.7% decline in the Ades aegypti  population in Ortigueira. 

Brazil is also working on efforts to provide its citizens with greater immunity, vaccinating the most vulnerable with a new shot from Japan and working on its own home-grown dengue vaccine. 

None of these solutions are a quick fix. But they all provide some hope that the world can find ways to fight back even as climate change drives dengue and other infections to new peaks and into new territories. ““Cases of dengue fever are rising at an alarming rate,” Gabriela Paz-Bailey, who specializes in dengue at the US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, told the Washington Post. “It’s becoming a public health crisis and coming to places that have never had it before.”

Now read the rest of The Checkup

Read more from MIT Technology Review’s archive

We’ve written about the World Mosquito Program before. Here’s a 2016 story from Antonio Regalado that looked at early excitement and Bill Gates’ backing of the project. 

That same year we reported on Oxitec’s early work in Brazil using genetically modified mosquitoes. Flavio Devienne Ferreira has the story. 

And this story from Emily Mullin looks at Google’s sister company, Verily. It built a robot to create Wolbachia-infected mosquitoes and began releasing them in California in 2017. (The project is now called Debug). 

From around the web

The FDA-approved ALS drug Relyvrio has failed to benefit patients in a large clinical trial. It was approved early amidst questions about its efficacy, and now the medicine’s manufacturer has to decide whether to pull it off the  market. (NYT)

Wegovy: it’s not just for weight loss anymore. The FDA has approved a label expansion that will allow Novo Nordisk to market the drug for its heart benefits, which might prompt more insurers to cover it. (CNN)

Covid killed off one strain of the flu and experts suggest dropping it from the next flu vaccine. (Live Science) 

Scientists have published the first study linking microplastic pollution to human disease. The research shows that people with plastic in their artery tissues were twice as likely to have a heart attack, stroke, or die than people without plastic. (CNN)