As the fight against malaria took a huge stride forward with publication of a potential synthetic antimalarial candidate (Vennerstrom, J. L. et al. Nature, 430, 900–904 (2004)), so too has the value of research collaborations between industry and academia that tackle developing world diseases.

The antimalarial compound, OZ277/RBx11160 — known as 'OZ' — is a synthetic version of the most effective current antimalarial, artemisinin, and is cheaper and easier to produce. Developed by the Indian pharmaceutical company Ranbaxy, OZ is now in Phase I trials in the United Kingdom.

The R&D journey that brought OZ to this stage involved a unique partnership of academic and industrial groups from across the globe, sponsored by the non-profit foundation Medicines for Malaria Venture (MMV). With international private and public backers, MMV enables academics and the drug industry to re-engage in this notoriously under-resourced field.

If what you want is an accurate estimate of the quantitative risk that's contributed by a particular genetic variant or a particular environmental exposure, the prospective study design will give you that. Francis Collins

According to Hugues Matile, senior scientist at the major industry partner Hoffmann-La Roche, the project began when his company, which was already collaborating with Jonathan Vennerstrom at Nebraska University, decided to stop malaria research.

“Our management gave us the opportunity to continue work with external institutions,” says Matile. “Two of us got sabbaticals: Robert Ridley, now at the World Heath Organization, went to Geneva to support building up the MMV; and myself, together with my technician Jacques Chollet, transferred know-how and technology from Roche to the Swiss Tropical Institute. Robert arranged contacts with Bill and Susan Charman from Monash University [Melbourne, Australia] for pharmacokinetic studies and with Sarah Arbe-Barnes from Fulcrum Pharma Developments [UK] for project management.”

The full team comprised chemists working with Vennerstrom (as chief investigator), the pharmacokinetic group at Monash, parasitologists in Switzerland and managers in the UK. Expertise also came from scientists, such as Matile at Hoffmann-La Roche, but, perhaps surprisingly, the company has no interest in the clinical development and marketing of the drug. As Matile says: “Cooperation from the Roche side was a pure goodwill action by the company and scientists involved.”

According to Vennerstrom, a key early obstacle was the “identification of compounds with both good antimalarial activities and good biopharmaceutical properties”, and Charman recalls the hurdle of “establishing management systems, data and people, and clear project objectives that were both quantitative and qualitative.”

Regarding the keys to success, the academics cite learning from each other, enjoying working together, laughter, regular telephone calls, e-mails and group meetings, and trust and commitment. Charman adds: “It was hard work, challenging, with all the good bits of working in the drug industry without the politics and endless meetings. It was a real project and we were determined to succeed.”

“Collaboration between the groups was excellent,” says Matile, “mainly due to MMV's full support, so the major problem of finance for universities was not an issue, and because of personal friendship between team members.” Really no tensions in drawing together such diverse partners? “Not existent,” Matile says.

Doubtless encouraged by this story of philanthropic bonhomie, public–private partnerships are cited as the way ahead in the fight against malaria. Propelled by umbrella bodies such as MMV, the disease described as keeping poor people poor, and which affects almost half the world's population, is under concerted attack from academics and industry — even though it's unlikely to make them rich.