Once upon a time in Colorado biopharming was The Next Big Thing.
Meristem Therapeutics hosted a delegation of three state legislators and representatives of farmers’ organizations at its headquarters in Clermont-Ferrand, France, in 2003 to describe its plan to pay local farmers handsomely to produce medicinal-quality lipase – an enzyme to digest fats – in corn plants in Eastern Colorado.
Most of the delegates were wowed. They came home smitten.
Around that time the Colorado Department of Agriculture was determined to see the state get a piece of what was expected to be some serious economic development action. So Meristem’s application was considered without public hearings and a permit was granted.
A secret site in Logan County was selected where the Frankenfood corn was supposed to be grown. It was to be monitored closely, state officials said, so that the pharma-corn would never be eaten or even exposed to nearby food crops.
Then something unexpected happened.
Nothing.
“They chose not to enter the fray,” said John Cevette, a consultant for the Colorado Corn Growers Association and an early proponent of biopharming in the state. “To my knowledge, there were no commercial biopharm crops planted in Colorado.”
Cevette said opposition from environmentalists, farmers and the food industry queered the deal. Executives at Meristem had told him they didn’t want to go where they were not welcome.
A tiny plot of biopharm seed corn for a researcher from Iowa State University was the only biopharm experiment conducted in the state, Jim Miller of the Colorado Department of Agriculture said.
Biopharming in Colorado was a bust.
Bill Freese said we dodged a bullet.
The history of biopharming “is a classic example of hype far outpacing the actual prospects of the sector,” said the research analyst for Friends of the Earth.
Despite dozens of biopharm projects across the country and in Puerto Rico since the late 1980s, the industry has never fulfilled expectations.
“There hasn’t been a single pharma crop-produced drug approved by the FDA to date,” Freese said.
Not one.
The bottom line shows it.
Most of the biopharm companies are small venture-capital operations that are always scrapping for money, Freese said. “Even with millions in subsidies from states like Iowa and Virginia, they haven’t been profitable.”
Several have gone bankrupt, leaving states with no hope of recovering their investments.
Last week, the already bleak prospects for the industry dimmed.
U.S. District Judge Michael Seabright issued a ruling saying that the U.S. Department of Agriculture had violated the National Environmental Policy Act and the Endangered Species Act by failing to investigate the risks of biopharm crops before issuing permits for plantings on four Hawaiian islands.
He said the USDA had exhibited “utter disregard for this simple investigative requirement.” The judge is considering ordering a moratorium on biopharming in the Hawaii case.
Freese said it’s about time.
“The USDA has never had any provisions for testing for contamination of food crops. They just never looked for it,” he said.
He called the USDA’s record on regulating the industry “abysmal.”
So while some, including Cevette, say the burden of environmental regulations is what drove Meristem and other companies away from Colorado, others insist that’s a red herring.
“I think the reality is that it is not the instant moneymaker people once thought it was,” said Peter Crowell, vice president of the Uncompahgre Valley Association and a critic of biopharming.
“The real reason for the industry’s decline, I think, is simple economics,” he said. “The practicalities – or impracticalities of it – finally won out over greed.”
Diane Carman’s column appears Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday. She can be reached at 303-820-1489 or dcarman@denverpost.com
