A healthcare research firm built its edge by reaching people conventional panels struggled to find. Its next challenge is making years of accumulated research easier to use.
After COVID antibodies and a failed flu trial, Vir is betting on hepatitis delta and cancer drugs designed to switch on inside tumors. Its comeback has partners and cash. The decisive clinical tests are still ahead.

After more than eight years shaping AbbVie’s pipeline, the history major turned biotech dealmaker is now running MBrace Therapeutics - where the wager is on novel targets, disciplined development and knowing which risks are worth taking.

A physician who learned Wall Street, oncology and company-building is testing a precise idea at NEOK Bio: give an antibody-drug conjugate two ways to find its target, then make execution as carefully engineered as the medicine.

After helping a small North Carolina biotech move a cell-cycle drug from discovery toward patients, Patrick Roberts reunited with longtime colleagues to pursue a harder target: CDK2. The wager behind Incyclix Bio is that precision, patience and the right biomarkers can reopen a route that resistant cancers have learned to use.
The Madison biotech spent years making two-target antibodies easier to build, screen and manufacture. Now a partner-discovered molecule is in a Phase 1 trial - and the operating lesson may be more reusable than the science.
A 13-person North Carolina biotech licensed an overlooked CDK2 program, narrowed the patient target and pushed one oral drug into the clinic. Early data offer a reason to keep going - and a useful blueprint for building around a precise scientific thesis rather than a sprawling pipeline.
A tiny Pennsylvania biotech is betting that some antibody therapies fail for a surprisingly fixable reason: tumors throw molecular sand in the gears. Its answer is to redesign the antibody - or remove the sand.

He spent 25 years learning how cancer drugs fail. Now he is running a company built on the idea that the next generation can be safer, steadier, and easier to live with.

He led chemistry at a big pharma for a decade, then walked out to build a radiopharma startup with no executive team and a single conviction: make the molecules stick.
How a group-buying network built by former pharma executives quietly became the largest independent community-oncology network in the country - and why staying small and independent is the whole point.
80% of cancer compounds that reach clinical trials fail. Yatiri Bio thinks the problem is that drug developers have been reading the wrong molecules - and it built a proteomics platform to prove it.
OncoLens turned the tumor board - medicine's oldest committee - into AI-backed software now running inside 225-plus cancer centers. It started with a daughter watching her father get conflicting advice.

After building Impax from a 1995 startup into a public pharmaceutical company, Larry Hsu returned to the beginning: a small team, licensed science, and the long work of turning drug candidates into companies.

From a protein-engineering bench to the CEO seat at Vivace Therapeutics, Craig Gibbs has built a career around one stubborn question: how does promising biology become a drug program that can actually move?

The Aulos Bioscience CEO has spent three decades moving closer to the work - from the lab, to the deal table, to the small teams where one clear decision can redirect an entire company.
Agent Capital invests where molecules, milestones and money collide. Its small team backs healthcare companies across the development curve, then stays close enough to help science become a financeable business.
The Swiss giant spent years shedding businesses until only innovative medicines remained. Now its growth depends on turning five scientific platforms into treatments that health systems will pay for - and patients can actually reach.

She spent 23 years climbing Pfizer's ladder in five countries. Now she is trying to make one of the world's biggest drug companies sound less like a laboratory and more like a person you would actually listen to.
It began as a candy-flavored worm medicine in a Brooklyn brick house. Today Pfizer is racing to replace its Covid windfall with cancer drugs and weight-loss pills before the patents run out.
Takeda began as a medicine shop in Osaka in 1781. Now a new CEO must turn a sprawling global portfolio, a $30 billion-plus revenue base and six late-stage programs into the company’s next generation of growth.
The Cambridge biotech turned messenger RNA from a lab curiosity into a platform for printing medicines from genetic code - vaccines, cancer shots, and rare-disease drugs that share one factory and swap out the instructions.
The Nashville company turned a 1968 experiment in shared hospital resources into a vast care network. Its real edge is what happens when local medicine, centralized operations and 47 million annual patient encounters begin teaching one another.
After spinning off toothpaste and painkillers, GSK placed a sharper bet on the immune system. Its next chapter is being written in vaccine vials, long-acting HIV medicine and a newly enlarged cancer pipeline.
A Japanese fermentation lineage became a U.S. rare-disease business by following biology that larger markets often overlook. Now Kyowa Kirin is testing whether patient-scale focus can coexist with manufacturing-scale ambition.
It stopped making the Band-Aid. What is left is a $94-billion bet that the future of Johnson & Johnson is written on a prescription pad and a robotic arm.
Legend Biotech turned an experiment from a room the size of a freight elevator into a medicine used to treat more than 10,000 people. Now it must prove that one demanding, personalized therapy can become a platform for the next generation of cancer care.
The company betting that the most expensive corner of American medicine - cancer, cardiology, and back surgery - can be run better when the people paying for care and the doctors delivering it are finally pulling in the same direction.
The company that mass-produced insulin now runs on a molecule that helps people lose weight. Inside the 150-year-old Indianapolis drugmaker that became a trillion-dollar bet on metabolism.
The 53-year-old French drugmaker is narrowing its bets to immunology, vaccines and a faster pipeline. The wager is that better biology, selective dealmaking and factory-scale AI can turn scientific focus into repeatable growth.