Touted as a potential breakthrough cancer therapy in the 1980s by the scientific community and publications such as TIME and Newsweek magazine, the reputation of interferon has not lived up to its early promise. Interferons are small proteins with anti-viral and anti-cancer effects, which have the power to modulate the functioning of the immune system. But Dr. Joseph Cummins, an early interferon pioneer, holder of sixteen US medical patents, author of more than sixty scientific publications, as well as having taught veterinary medicine at the University of Missouri, University of Illinois, and Texas A & M University, argues that the current thinking on interferon is fundamentally flawed. Interferon is created in small quantities in the body in response to infection, and seems to work best at these low dosages. However, the public health cowboys, working under the assumption that anything good in tiny amounts must be better in massive amounts, pursued exactly the wrong strategy. High-dose interferon does not work in the body and may even cause problems. The first remarkable results for interferon and the flu were reported by the Soviets in the 1970s, but Western medicine discounted these findings because they believed the dosages were so low they couldn’t possibly be effective. In the 1980s, when interferon was expensive to produce and only small quantities could be manufactured, the results were remarkable. Dr. Cummins was an early pioneer of low-dose interferon, and his remarkable findings among animals led to collaborations with medical doctors for human trials, even going so far as Africa at the height of the HIV-AIDS epidemic. Cummins reviews the evidence for this inexpensive, safe treatment and makes an eloquent argument for medical science to take another look at interferon to tackle today’s most challenging health conditions, including COVID-19.
Joseph Cummins is the author of numerous books, including Anything for a Vote: Dirty Tricks, Cheap Shots and October Surprises in U.S. Presidential Elections; A Bloody History of the World, which won the 2010 Our History Project Gold Medal Award; and the forthcoming Ten Tea Parties: Patriotic Protests That History Forgot. He lives in Maplewood, New Jersey, with his wife and daughter.
A scientist advocates the revival of an antiviral cancer treatment popular in the 1980s.
Cummins, a microbiologist and veterinarian, has produced an astute, thought-provoking, and convincing testament to the revitalization of low-dose interferon administration.
The goal of his book—written with former attorney Heckenlively—is to renew clinical and public interest in the drug, which came into prominence in the early ’80s. Despite proven antiviral and anti-cancer properties in animals, the treatment failed to surpass the scientific community’s lofty expectations for it in human trials.
Cummins, whose narrative perspective predominantly anchors the work, first charts his own interest and history in veterinary medicine and how his distinguished career in immunological research science prepared him to become a leading voice in interferon application advocacy for animals as well as humans.
The volume describes interferon as a naturally occurring protein found in the human body during a viral infection that has been resoundingly beneficial for animals in veterinary arenas as well as helpful in providing broad protection to humans by shortening the duration of viral shedding.
Although early Japanese and Russian studies bolstered low-dose interferon as an influenza prophylaxis, its widespread usage never materialized. Cummins embarked on a career researching oral human interferon and authoring many articles on its efficacy in trials.
This study-heavy work shares the wealth of more than five decades of research backing interferon’s use, including controversial success stories, like a veterinarian who treated himself with the drug after contracting HIV; case studies with compromised patients; and media coverage.
Parts of the narrative utilize scientific jargon that may confuse some lay readers, though others will find themselves persuaded by the sensible and science-supported arguments.
oncluding chapters offer an update on the current state of more recent clinical trials and an enlightening lesson on viral behavior and how the immune system’s reaction to classic coronaviruses could prepare the human body’s defense mechanisms against SARS-CoV-2.
Cummins gets personal in the closing pages, admitting to suffering from Parkinson’s disease and planning to relinquish his participation in the effort to reawaken interest in interferon usage. He asserts that interferon has its share of detractors who believe the drug “threatens to upend the pharmaceutical bottom line.”
Sound research and expert experience create an illuminating work on the potential benefits of interferon.
I read this for my Protein Pharmaceuticals class in grad school, and wow, it was rough. There was no clear narrative. He just bombarded you with study after study, paper that he authored, or article written about himself, relying on more excerpts than any text he wrote himself. It read more like a review article, and maybe it should have stayed a review article, except for that he needed the excuse to scream all the cheeky remarks and fake deep quotes he's been ruminating on for the past 30 years into the void. It was also depressing. He really worked to sell you the image that he's just a product of the American dream, a mere dairy farmer turned veterinarian who is simply a champion of the people and a humble servant of science, but in an infuriatingly narcissistic way. His professional disappointment and desperation to convince himself that his life's work held some meaning was palpable. It was like he was the old man you accidentally made eye contact with at the grocery store and now here you are 40 minutes later with him loudly pointing fingers at politics, the press, and Big Pharma for keeping this miracle drug from us, but maybe he just needs to accept that it doesn't work as well as he thought? I will not be accused of missing the book's main message: interferon was dismissed as ineffective but we haven't given enough attention to the promise of low dose interferon which may be the key to solving all of our problems. And sure, maybe that's true. But he did a horrible job convincing me. He didn't even attempt to explain a mechanism of action until one of the last chapters and then alotted it one or two measely paragraphs, opting instead for anecdote after anecdote and poorly strung together studies. In conclusion, this man may be a perfectly good scientist down on his luck, but in my opinion, he should have remained as such and resisted the urge to concoct a half-baked memoir. But then again, maybe this outlet is saving the ears of some grocery shoppers, so we have that to be grateful for.