|
|
 |
|
| Feature |
Medical Missionaries
Michelle Seaton
08/01/2005
|
Those who hope to
start a foundation similar to ABC2 or the Prostate Cancer Foundation (PCF), a
Santa Monica, Calif., organization founded by former financier Michael Milken,
need to have broad entrepreneurial skills and significant drive. Milken was
diagnosed with advanced prostate cancer in 1993; he was told it was terminal.
Within two weeks of his diagnosis, he crashed a conference on prostate cancer at
the MD Anderson Cancer Center at the University of Texas and confronted
researchers and specialists about the lack of progress and consensus on the
treatment of prostate cancer. Within the year, he founded PCF and started a
personal campaign to call on his vast network of contacts in the worlds of
medicine, politics and business to raise the profile of the disease and flood
the field with money to attract and retain the most innovative
researchers.
 “When Mike Milken’s father was diagnosed with melanoma in 1974,
Mike took him around to all the major cancer centers and met their directors,”
says Geoffrey Moore, a senior advisor to Milken. “He maintained those relationships over the years and gave to those organizations through the Milken
Family Foundation. Fast forward to 1993, when he was diagnosed with cancer. It
was a shock, sure, but after he got over that shock, he knew exactly what he had
to do.”
Today PCF has an annual operating budget of $21 million and is the
largest private source of funding for prostate cancer research. PCF has lobbied
to boost government funding for research, which has increased in the past 12
years from less than $25 million to more than $500 million annually. Because of
its high-profile giving, PCF can use its largesse as both a carrot and a stick.
If researchers accept funding from the organization, they must make a yearly
pilgrimage to a retreat and share their findings with experts at competing
research facilities. Those who balk can have their grants rescinded. “Mike’s
genius is his ability to stimulate teamwork, getting people from different
institutions who used to think of themselves as competitors but don’t now,”
Moore says.
| He Tried to explain that the field of research was competitive, like the
marketplace, and that this new center had to be an innovative start-up. |
Evangelist Terriers
To duplicate this kind of success, the leader of a
private foundation would have to possess the contacts of a lobbyist, the
charisma of an evangelist and the tenacity of a terrier. Peter Carroll, clinical
leader of the Prostate Cancer Program at the University of California San
Francisco (UCSF) Cancer Center, points to his establishment’s long relationship
with Andrew Grove, the cofounder and chairman of Intel, who in 1995 was
diagnosed with prostate cancer.
After his treatment, Grove became involved in
a patient advocacy program at UCSF that was advising researchers about
developing a prostate cancer center. Apparently, Grove was underwhelmed by the
mission statement and research goals of the proposed center. He took Carroll
aside after one presentation and tried to explain that the field of research was
competitive, like the marketplace, and that this new center had to be an
innovative start-up. Carroll wasn’t sure what Grove meant until three days later
when he got a fax from the Intel chairman detailing a different mission
statement. At its conclusion, Grove wrote, “Be distinctive. Do things here that
no one else in the field is doing.” It was an entirely new frame of reference
for the researchers at UCSF, who had not fully considered their center’s place
in the larger research community. “We changed our focus across the board because
of that,” Carroll says.
 Since then, Grove has been heavily involved in the
UCSF Cancer Center. He became chair of the organization’s national fund-raising
campaign in 2000. In 2002 he donated $5 million in matching grants to a new stem
cell research initiative. Grove also continues to participate in the patient
advocacy program, offering impromptu feedback to Carroll and his colleagues.
Through the program, former patients or relatives of former patients can call or
email the center’s director to air their complaints, to suggest new patient
services or to push for new studies that link lifestyle issues to cancer. “They
are unbelievably dedicated. I get emails from them at 10 at night, at 2 in the
morning. I take their criticisms seriously, and they’re frequently right,”
Carroll says.
Magill advises his clients to decide how much involvement they
want in an organization, even their own charitable foundation, before they
begin. Donors interested in high-impact venture philanthropy should also decide
how they will measure success. Those who throw themselves into a cause out of
grief or urgency may donate in a way that speaks more to their needs than those
of the organization. For example, giving a rare piece of medical equipment to a
hospital that has no trained staff to use it will not help any patients. By
contrast, those who begin with more conservative goals and allow their
involvement in a cause to grow with their interest in medical philanthropy can
find a more organic way to match their talents and resources with their chosen
cause.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
