41
ward a command- and-control kind of model for sci-
ence, specifying more than I think is healthy for the
community what people are going to work on what
kind of projects,” says Michael Eisen, a professor of
genetics, genomics and development at the University
of California, Berkeley. “It’s sucked the lifeblood out
of American science in the process.” Eisen argues that
the emphasis on moon shots erodes the foundation
that makes those advances possible, which is long-
term stable support of pure research.
Collins expresses a rare hint of impatience about
these criticisms. “The vast majority of what NIH
is doing is not those large-scale projects,” he says.
“They get attention because if they achieve some-
thing they tend to make a splash.” He also points
out that there are simply many projects, like his own
Genome Project, that a single investigator could not
take on. Currently about 1 in 5 proposals submitted
to the NIH gets funding. If he wasn’t able to sell Con-
gress on those moon shots, the NIH would receive
less money overall, he suggests, and that number
would surely go down.
The caTasTrophic evenTs of the past year have
not shaken Collins’ beliefs. The wall next to the desk
that he has rarely left is peppered with verses, and
he has been hitting the Psalms pretty heavily. “As a
Christian I don’t have to explain to God that suffering
is a terrible thing because the God I worship suffered
on a cross,” he says. But they have shaken his belief in
some of his fellow Christians, who have insisted the
virus is a hoax designed to take away their religious
liberty. “It’s a source of great heartache for me as a
person of faith to see in a circumstance where I would
have hoped that people of faith would be rushing to
try to help, that some of them seem to have adopted
views that are actually accomplishing the opposite,”
he says. “People are dying because of our failure in
this country to effectively utilize proven methods of
stopping the spread of the disease, particularly mask
wearing and not gathering in large crowds indoors.”
He is, however, optimistic about the moves the
new Administration has made so far. “All of the ef-
forts that relate to COVID have been much appreci-
ated,” he says. “The requirement of masks in federal
facilities and airports is long overdue.”
In bringing together the medical resources of the
U.S. to fight COVID-19, Collins and his partners may
have cut a clearer path to treating all sorts of diseases.
It’s not that the NIH had never thought of any of these
ideas before. It built RADx on an existing program
within the NIBIB. The ACTIV network is the latest
iteration in a decades-long series of collaborations.
But the pandemic supersized the idea, and in the pro-
cess made clear what was possible. “We have to plan
ahead and be ready for this sort of family of viruses
that we think might be the next big one,” he says.
Collins toys with the idea of leaving public service
and returning to his other skill, working in a lab, but
it seems obvious he’s not fooling even himself. “Over-
all, 2020 was a terrible year for our planet,” he said
from his book-lined Chevy Chase, Md., office on New
Year’s Eve. “It’s been a terrible year for our country.
It’s been a tragic year for those people who lost their
lives. But for science it’s been a phenomenal year of
doing things.” The lab can probably wait. □
^
Vice President
Kamala Harris
joins Collins at
the NIH to get her
second dose of the
Moderna vaccine
in January
LEAH MILLIS—REUTERS
