Session 29 Faculty Start-Ups: The Tangled Web June 20-23, 2001 Susan L. Carney Yale University New Haven, Connecticut Note: This paper reflects the views of the author and not those of Yale University. The story of faculty start-ups is no longer new, but the contradictions still startle: university faculty are now founding, owning, and working for companies at the same time as they are teaching and researching. Their students may also be their current or future employees. Inventions and research on campus may be subject to competing claims of ownership by the university and industry. University administrators may sit in company board rooms to debate plans for initial public offerings with faculty members whose stakes in the companies give them the most personal of financial interests. Plans to manage equity are created at the university not just in its endowment office, but by its technology transfer managers and others. The tax-exempt research university is not just face-to-face with the licensing demands of industry – it is spawning and nurturing industry. None of this would have been dreamed of by the scholars who peopled the earliest universities – and perhaps not by the Internal Revenue Service when it conferred tax-exempt status on our educational and charitable institutions. But it is what many of our institutions now include among their important undertakings. Largely in the name of the Bayh-Dole Act,1 which, in 1980, in effect charged universities with leading the effort to bring academic discoveries to the marketplace for the public benefit, educational institutions have increasingly taken a creative and aggressive role in moving the fruits of federally-sponsored and other research from “bench to bedside,” as the phrase goes. When existing industry declines to license a proffered technology, or seems likely to suppress rather than develop it, the only viable means to obtain the necessary investment and commitment to bring the benefits of research to the public may be the start-up company, born of a variable amalgam of university and faculty intellectual property, effort, and acumen. As the Association of University Technology Managers (“AUTM”) recently reported, “[s]ince 1980, at least 2,922 new companies have been formed based on a license from an academic institution . . . .”2 AUTM’s statistics reflect that 344 start-ups based on such licenses were formed by 111 institutions in FY 1999, the most recent year for which statistics are available.3 In conjunction with such licenses, universities have also increasingly taken equity in new companies: AUTM counted 79 academic institutions receiving an equity interest in 243 such transactions in FY 1999.4 Some universities have taken very active roles in founding and obtaining financing for those companies. Sometimes the impetus for assuming that role comes from the technology transfer office – but sometimes a faculty member with entrepreneurial ambitions is the driving force. 1 Patent and Trademark Law Amendments (Bayh-Dole) Act of 1980, 35 U.S.C.§§ 200-211 (2000). AUTM Licensing Survey, FY 1999, Survey Summary at 2 (“AUTM 1999 Survey”). The AUTM data is based on responses from U.S. universities, hospitals, nonprofit research institutions, and patent management firms, and some Canadian institutions. 3 Id. at 16. 4 Id. at 17. 2 It is telling, however, that in 1998, AUTM chose to add a new category of information to its decadeold survey, asking the reporting institutions how many of those start-ups were operational at the end of FY 1999.5 As enticing as many in academe now find the promise of a start-up, the reality can be cruel: many start-ups fail or enjoy only modest success, and it is the rare one that becomes a true commercial blockbuster. And it is important to remember that even the commercial success may have a downside: Although the financial fruits of such success may be devoted to future research and offer much-needed help in paying the basic bills of an academic institution, the source of the revenue – a for-profit, highrisk, ambitious undertaking – may smack to the outside world and to parts of your institution, not of the public interest, but of very private interests. This private-interest aura inescapably, and properly, heightens the need for regular review and reexamination of the related conflict of interest questions, and of whether the academic research program has maintained appropriate goals or is being too heavily shaped by a non-academic agenda. The resulting benefits of the successful start-up can be very significant, however: start-ups have permitted technology to be developed that otherwise would never have seen the light of day, have created notable numbers of jobs, and have given much-needed support to expensive research operations. Young companies reliant on university licenses have located their operations near universities, boosting the local economy and employment -- AUTM reports that 82% of the 344 new companies based on academic discovery in FY 1999 were operating in the state of the academic institution that licensed the technology.6 The revenues to the universities applied in support of new research can help offset the vagaries of the federal grant and contract process and related uncertainties of the annual appropriation process. Indisputably, there has been a sea change in the academic world: as Yale’s Provost Alison Richard recently observed, “We live in a society where it is less and less desirable, to say nothing of tenable, for universities to hide inside their ivory towers.”7 In his companion piece to this one, our colleague John Biancamano of Ohio State University has set out a comprehensive guide to policies and procedures that an institution should consider establishing to avoid some of the difficulties related to start-ups. In this paper, I present a topic-oriented commentary on some concerns raised by faculty start-ups – the flesh on the bones of the policy structure -- and offer information about how some institutions practiced in this area have addressed them. My commentary draws heavily on practices, problems, and benefits observed at my own institution and at other private institutions whose counsel I interviewed on this topic in preparation for this paper, as well as various press accounts, and thoughtful material on the topic that has been published by AUTM.8 Although it is fundamental to any in-depth consideration of faculty start-ups, I have not lingered too long on the basics of the topic of conflicts of interest, which is treated at length in other NACUA presentations. Also, the tax effects of start-ups on your institution must be carefully considered in consultation with experienced tax counsel, and will not be addressed here at any length. 5 AUTM Licensing Survey, FY 1998, Survey Summary, at 3. AUTM Licensing Survey, FY 1999. at 1. 7 B. Fellman, New Haven: Biotech City?, Yale Alumni Magazine, May 2000, at 38 (“Fellman”). 8 3 AUTM, Technology Transfer Practice Manual, Start-Ups and Related Topics, Part IV (1994). Although the Manual itself is seven years old, many of its fundamental observations about start-ups seem also to hold true today. 6 2 I have attached to this paper a list called “Faculty Start-up - University profile,” based on an interview form that John Biancamano and I prepared, for your use in assessing your own institution’s current policies and practices in this arena.. The comments and observations offered here are not strictly legal in nature, but are designed to alert you to some of the institutional and practical issues that are involved with start-ups and which you should consider in advising your client, the university. The takeaway message is that start-ups, done properly, and in the right environment, have the potential to confer great public benefit and to contribute to the financial stability of the research institution and its surrounding community. They carry with them substantial risks, however, and require a significant commitment of resources to manage properly. They also call for regular reevaluation in different quarters of the university, and at the highest levels, to determine whether the activities remain consistent with the institution’s core mission and legal obligations.9 Addressing the issues posed by start-ups requires flexibility, imagination, and common sense. As difficult as it can be to reach consensus at a university on policy statements that would govern start-up formations and relationships, it can be even more challenging to apply those policies wisely and well. The challenge derives from the extreme variability of start-ups: they come in many different shapes, are based on vastly different technologies, desire to reach widely different markets, and are colored by personal histories of the individuals involved. Unlike typical licensing operations, few universities have had enough experience to feel they have a reliable template for a start-up. Returning to root principles again and again as you evaluate particular cases is probably the most reliable way to ensure that your institution stays on track. 1. What is a faculty start-up? First, what is a faculty start-up? Although it may seem that we university counsel are all using the phrase in the same way, an informal survey suggested that we are not. The generally shared, core answer seems to be that it is a new company, founded to do further research on and to commercialize an invention or other intellectual property created by a faculty member. The university licenses the invention or other intellectual property to the start-up. It may or may not take equity in the company, in partial consideration for the license (e.g., reduced royalties or a waived license initiation fee); it may actually form the company and take founder’s equity, in acknowledgment of its efforts. (Public universities may be limited or barred by statute from holding such equity interests, and in some states have established adjunct foundations to hold equity and to deal with the start-up.) The faculty member inventor similarly often holds equity, either through the license, or as a founder, and may assume various roles in the start-up company. Whether the faculty member or the university technology transfer office typically takes the predominant role in forming the start-up varies significantly from institution to institution, and may vary from start-up to start-up. Some universities simply tolerate faculty start-ups, which in their experience tend to be “hobby in the garage” operations that rarely include a business plan, professional 9 See, e.g., A. Marcus, MIT Seeds Inventions But Want a Nice Cut of Profits They Yield/It Is Jousting With a Son of AudioMaking Family Over the Use of a Patent/Income Source for University, Wall St. J., July 30, 1999, at A1; K. Arenson, Columbia Sets Pace in Profiting Off Research, N.Y. Times, Aug. 2, 2000, at B1. 3 management, and outside venture capital – for these start-ups, the faculty member is the driving force, and the university simply assents to a license and applies the usual conflict of interest and conflict of commitment rules. In other cases, the university technology transfer office (“TTO”) provides the engine, and the faculty member is along for the ride. Having sought and failed to find an established licensee, for example, the TTO may form a company, seek professional management, shop for venture capital, assist on preparing a viable business plan, license the technology to the new company, and then step back as the company starts to operate on its own. This latter level of business activity occurring within the university walls makes some members of the academic community profoundly uncomfortable, but it has been maintained at some institutions for two decades or more.10 Questions for your institution: 2. What is the development model for your typical faculty start-up? Would a different model be possible or desirable? Are there any statutory restrictions on your institution’s role? Why create a start-up? Some technology transfer professionals maintain that the only legitimate reason to form a start-up is as the last resort in licensing: when a licensing relationship with an established entity has been rejected by those entities or is expected to fail, yet the TTO and the faculty member judge that the technology is worth an investment and ultimately could succeed. This conclusion may be more or less grounded in fact, however: it may be based on a series of actual, failed negotiations, or on more or less informed speculation by your decision-makers that a technology would not be an attractive licensing prospect to established industry. Or, a positive industry response could have been received, but be tainted: the TTO could suspect that a would-be licensor intends to shelve the technology to preserve its own competing product. The TTO could also desire to license a suite of related patents and find that a startup offers the only solution for the whole package. Some believe that, in the pharmaceutical industry, for example, the recent trend towards mergers and acquisitions has meant a decreased willingness in the mega-pharma firms to do basic research11 – opening a window for the young, small company to take early research results from a university lab and make the necessary investment to take the next steps in developing a new health care product. In addition, a start-up may speak to the university’s desire to have a voice in keeping the company local for regional economic reasons;12 to create employment opportunities generally and for spouses of 10 See generally Lawrence M. Fisher, Technology Transfer at Stanford University, strategy & business (Booz Allen & Hamilton, Fourth Quarter, 1998), < http://www.strategy-business.com/policy/98409> (reporting that “the annual revenues of the companies born at the university total more than $100 billion; their market capitalizations are in the tens of billions, and the jobs created in the hundreds of thousands.” NACUA members will be interested to note that, regarding their technology licensing programs in general, Mr. Fisher observes that “keeping attorneys out of the licensing practice is gospel [at Stanford], as well as at schools like Harvard and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology that have modeled their own technology transfer programs on Stanford’s practices.” 11 Fellman, at 38. 12 AUTM reports that 82% of the 344 new companies formed based on academic discoveries in FY 1999 were operating in the state of the academic institution that licensed the technology. AUTM 1999 Survey at 1. State partnerships in support of certain kinds of start-up operations may be possible and underscore the public interest aspects of some of these ventures. 4 faculty; to build up a local research and development community; to assist with faculty retention; and to foster research synergies. The university clearly has a better chance of achieving these goals with a new company in which it is a shareholder than with a company whose headquarters is already firmly entrenched elsewhere. But these goals usually are subsidiary to the primary aim: licensing to assure effective development and commercialization. In some, more awkward, instances, a start-up may be conceived when the TTO is not optimistic about the proposed technology, but the faculty member who fathered the technology is committed to it or to the notion of a start-up, perhaps desiring to try his or her hand at business and to reap financial and other returns. The faculty member may also wish to control or participate in the next level of research that is done on his or her technology.13 The TTO may accede to the faculty member’s urgings, but if it declines to commit its resources to developing the technology in these circumstances, the faculty member may complain that the TTO is mistaken in its assessment of his technology, or will not give the technology the appropriate level of attention, or that it lacks expertise in the particular field, and the institution needs to be prepared to address the tension. An informal poll suggests that in these instances, institutions may permit faculty to form start-ups on their own so long as the activity is carried out consistent with its conflict of commitment and conflict of interest policies. Faculty start-ups in which faculty take the lead are reputed rarely to be successful, at least at schools where there is no long custom and practice of such entrepreneurship. The consensus appears to be that, whether the start-up is successful or not, an institution faces significant practical challenges in keeping abreast of independent business activity in a start-up by a faculty member and in enforcing related policies. Even if the purely faculty-run activity is permitted, your TTO may be reluctant to invest its resources heavily in support of such a venture. Ideally, the TTO is comprised of professionals with adequate scientific, business, legal, academic, and diplomatic background to make the evaluations necessary to decide when a start-up is worth the effort and exposure, and when it is not, and then to communicate that decision effectively. The skills required of the TTO professional are many; for the institution, having the right people fill those jobs is critical. Also, because creating a start-up has implications for the institution as a whole, you should be clear which components of the university should participate in the decision: obvious candidates are the TTO, the Dean of the faculty member’s School, the Dean of Research or equivalent, the Conflict of Interest Committee, the Office of General Counsel, and the faculty member, all of which might have relevant opinions regarding a decision to create a start-up. Or, as a General Counsel, you may decide that you can adequately articulate standards for your start-ups, wish to avoid hampering your technology transfer office, and creating too much process, and are comfortable with streamlined decision-making. It may be useful in any event to require that your TTO make a brief written recommendation or statement regarding any start-up, laying out the rationale and the broad structure of its proposal, as a discipline to ensure that the start-up route is thoughtfully pursued, worthy of the substantial time and energy that a start-up requires, and clearly consistent with university goals. 13 See J. Harmon, Startup Companies, Princeton Weekly Bulletin (Oct. 18, 1999), <http://www.princeton.edu/pr/pwb/99/1018/startup.shtm>. 5 If a start-up is pursued, the institution should also develop a practice regarding which of its elements need to be notified about its existence and the university’s relationship to it. These may include the Office of Sponsored Research, the Institutional Review Board, and the tax and finance offices, among others. Questions for your institution: 3. What are your goals in creating a start-up? What criteria does your TTO apply before it may undertake a start-up? Does the TTO have to conclude that there are no established licensees for the subject technology before it may create a start-up? If so, how does it support that conclusion? When do you allow faculty to undertake a start-up independently of the TTO? What components of the university need to be involved with the decision to create a start-up? What components of the university need to be notified of an interest in a startup? Equity: once you have decided to take it, what do you do with it? Many private institutions may include in their investment portfolios stock in privately-held companies. Acting through its TTO and others, an institution may acquire stock in a start-up based on university intellectual property (let’s call it Newco) as a founder of the company, or in compensation for license initiation fees or for accepting a reduced royalty rate – often desirable to a cash-strapped start-up. Most universities take less than a majority share, sensibly: they are not in the business of running for-profit companies. There are many factors to consider in embarking on a role as an equity holder of a minority interest in a privately-held enterprise, however, and the concomitant special challenges and legal risks have been extensively scrutinized in NACUA and related commentary.14 They deserve periodic reevaluation. Once an institution has decided to take any equity, however, it confronts several challenges with respect to the equity. First, how should it determine the inventor’s share of the equity? If the equity is founder’s equity, the inventor may or may not be deemed to be due a portion under your applicable policy. One could argue that the license of the inventor’s property is fundamental to Newco and is appropriately recognized by a share; or one might argue that the founder’s equity is only appropriately allocated to parties who took active roles in the foundation activity – the development of the business plan, the identification of the source of venture capital, the retention of managers. This judgment will vary, depending on the facts and circumstances. Consider who at your institution should make that judgment. 14 An excellent article on this topic is Randolph M. Goodman & Linda A. Arnsbarger, Trading Technology for Equity: A Guide to Participating in Start-Up Companies, Joint Ventures and Affiliates, New York University 27th Conference on Tax Planning for 501(c)(3) Organizations (Matthew Bender & Co. 1999). 6 To the extent that the university’s equity share can be allocated solely to the license in terms of its reduced royalties or license initiation fee, a portion of the equity must be distributed to the faculty member inventor (let’s call him Professor Genome.) Institutions have devised an array of methods for addressing this distribution obligation: some hold the inventor’s portion until it has a cash value and a lock-up period is over, and then distribute the cash to the inventor at the time of sale of all the university’s holdings. Others require that the start-up issue the inventor’s share of the stock directly to Professor Genome, avoiding any responsibility for managing that stock. Others accept the full quantum of equity and distribute the inventor’s share to Professor Genome when the stock is still closely held (perhaps raising questions of securities law about the transfer, but avoiding future claims of university mismanagement of the equity.)15 Expect Professor Genome to express a preference for one distribution model over another because of the related personal income tax implications. As to the stock that the university continues to hold, the question arises regarding how it should be managed. The associated voting rights, if any, must be exercised appropriately – probably by the technology transfer office, which best knows Newco, but with some internal reporting to other concerned parties within the university’s walls. Management of the stock may be done by the TTO, or by the TTO in conjunction with the endowment managers, by the endowment managers alone, or even by a separate management company. The University may be concerned that its special interests regarding Newco – the public benefit reasons that prompted its involvement in Newco to begin with, the non-financial motives behind its commitment to the enterprise – be honored; but it may at some point desire to commit management of Newco’s stock to the same principles, and as part of the same portfolio, as other privately-held stock in its holdings. When and if the company prepares an initial public offering and securities regulations begin to apply in all their glorious rigor, the university must be vigilant about complying with its obligations of disclosure and must be sensitive to the insider information to which it may be privy. It may desire to continue holding the stock to emphasize a public endorsement of the start-up enterprise, or it may wish to divest itself of those holdings slowly, to avoid creating any misimpression of lack of confidence in the enterprise. Faculty founders are also well advised to be vigilant about their securities law obligations and the public relations effects of their holdings. The university may wish to encourage them to secure their own counsel on this and other topics early in Newco’s existence. General policies bearing on these facets of the faculty start-up are best developed at the highest levels of the institution. Questions for your institution: When will you accept equity in a start-up? Will you accept voting shares? How and when will you distribute equity to the faculty members who are entitled to it? How does your conflict of interest disclosure process gather information about options or privately held stock as to which there is no established value? 15 Note that such distributions of closely-held stock (or of options) without an established market value often are not reported to the conflict of interest committee by the recipient faculty member, although the upside potential of such stock plainly can create a conflict. An institution’s conflict of interest disclosure process should attempt to capture information about such distributions. 7 4. How will you manage the equity while it is still privately held? Who will manage it? Who at the institution needs to be informed that the institution has such an interest in the start-up? How will you manage the equity when (and if) it becomes publicly held? Who will manage it? Particular aspects of conflicts of interest and start-ups Start-ups are rife with conflicts of interest, at both the individual and institutional levels. There is no doubt that to manage start-ups appropriately, the sponsoring institution must have in place a robust and effective conflict of interest program, to which it has committed significant resources. It must effectively identify, and scrutinize, the proposed conflicted relationships. It must establish practical, attainable conflict management plans and be authorized in turn to charge the right individuals with carrying out those plans. It should be authorized, with appropriate supporting process, to halt or correct projects that stray from the plan and to impose sanctions when necessary. Some institutions have noted significant limitations on their ability, realistically assessed, to enforce a conflict management plan, no matter how thorough and effective the plan may look on paper. This observation suggests a need for real caution in relying on a conflict management plan to address the most troubling conflicts – such conflicts might be best addressed by declining to tolerate them at all. Conflicts can arise at many different points in the university’s relationship with Newco and Professor Genome, and other involved university employees or students. It may be useful to focus on a few here. ♦ Sponsored research. Universities seem to be of widely varying views about the risks and rewards of doing sponsored research for a start-up in which the university and the faculty member have equity interests and other relationships. Some assert that it should never be done, on principle, because of the institutional and individual conflicts of interest that might taint the research. Some with a more business-minded perspective assert that Newco should not sponsor such research at the university because it is often too inefficient to conduct focused research in a university setting and too costly for a start-up to pay the full university indirect cost rate. Some do not permit such research if Professor Genome owns above a given amount of stock. Other university administrators and faculty assert that such research work is precisely one of the outcomes that they would hope for. Professor Genome or his or her department or school, being interested in the field (and in Newco), may wish to continue the research in some way at the university. If that is the approach, questions arise about who appropriately can conduct the research. Typically, but not always, Professor Genome is not permitted to be principal investigator on research sponsored by Newco, given concerns about preserving the integrity of the research. But those concerns are not necessarily eliminated if a colleague does the research. And if Professor Genome is the chair of the department, should a junior faculty member be allowed or even encouraged to accept the research, or might that compromise his own career and also create an appearance that the research was not free from undue influence? The precise terms of sponsored research agreements and material transfer agreements with Newco are important. The agreement must avoid appearing to impair or in fact impairing the integrity of the 8 research. It must not permit inappropriate publication delays (an element of the agreement on which universities report that sponsors are becoming increasingly aggressive). It must handle confidential disclosures from the company so as not to prejudice the publication value of the research. It must attend to the propriety of the indirect cost rate charged Newco, ensuring it is not inappropriately low. It must carefully protect intellectual property resulting from the research – as to which the company may feel it has first dibs. If in the sponsored research agreement the start-up obtains an exclusive license on resulting intellectual property at a pre-set rate, the tax-exempt status of any applicable bond financing may be called into question. ♦ Students. In a similar vein, many feel that it is inappropriate for postdoctoral and graduate students to be allowed to work on the research sponsored by Newco, arguing that it inadequately helps them develop their own scientific careers and independent research. Others argue that allowing them to do this work may create career opportunities for them – at Newco and elsewhere. Most institutions with whom I spoke do not appear to allow concurrent student employment at Newco, out of concern for its possible adverse effect on the mentorship relationship between Professor Genome and the students. Competing claims of ownership to intellectual property developed by students (and others) who are both employees of Newco and who work in the university lab on Newco-sponsored research may develop between the university and Newco when these dual loyalties exist, and need to be guarded against by good conflict management plans or (preferably) by precluding such relationships altogether. ♦ SBIR/STTR. Note too that university start-ups have sometimes been formed, perhaps uncomfortably, to take advantage of the federal government’s Small Business Innovative Research (“SBIR”) or the Small Business Technology Transfer (“STTR”) programs, 16 in which Newco may seek an award and subcontract some part of the work back to the Professor Genome’s lab at the university. The programs contain different restrictions on the role that the faculty member may play in the new company (i.e., the extent to which the principal investigator on the company’s grant may be employed by the company), and your sponsored research office should be alert to the various restrictions and may need to work with your Conflict of Interest Committee to ensure adherence to the rules. Also, the NIH and NSF regulations on objectivity in research exempt SBIR and STTR research from their purview, leaving the subcontracting institution with the odd conundrum of concern about conflict of interest but no regulations to invoke. ♦ Clinical Research. These questions of conflict are particularly serious if the university accepts clinical research sponsored by Newco. A consensus is emerging in support of the principle that under no circumstances should any clinical trial be conducted by a faculty member with an ownership interest in the sponsoring entity, out of concern that the conflict of interest might prejudice – and would plainly appear to prejudice -- the trial at the potential expense of the human subjects. Some still would permit Phase II (efficacy) and double-blind, randomized, placebo-controlled Phase III As described in the Public Health Service (“PHS”) conflict of interest regulations, 42. C.F.R. § 50.603 (2000), the “Small Business Innovation Research (SBIR) Program means the extramural research program for small business that is established by the Awarding Components of the Public Health Service and certain other Federal agencies under Pub. L. 97219, the Small Business Innovation Development Act, as amended. For purposes of this subpart, the term SBIR Program includes the Small Business Technology Transfer (STTR) Program, which was established by Pub. L. 102-564.” See generally Small Business Administration website, <http://www.sba.gov>. The PHS regulation excludes from the definition of Significant Financial Interests “[a]ny ownership interests in the institution, if the institution, if the institution is an applicant under the SBIR Program.” 42 C.F.R. § 50.603 (2000). 16 9 (comparison with alternative therapies) trials to proceed under the oversight of a principal investigator with an equity interest in the sponsor; or on occasion, a Phase I safety trial if the expertise of the investigator made him or her uniquely well-qualified to conduct the trial, with appropriate disclosure and controls. Articulating the circumstances under which these conflicts might be manageable requires so much nuance and control that some are of the view that it is better not to try.17 But is it appropriate for a colleague of Professor Genome’s to undertake such research? Differing assessments of the scientific and publicity risks abound. The institution’s IRB may need to institute a conflict review process that parallels in part the more general conflict of interest process, so that it can assess in a very focused way conflicts affecting a given protocol, and the need for disclosure of any conflict to research subjects. ♦ Institutional Conflicts of Interest. Institutional conflicts of interest are apparent in Newcosponsored research, as well, and may be perceived as tainting university decisions with respect to such research.18 No persuasive, practical model has yet been sketched for managing such concerns. In each case in which the research sponsored by Newco is permitted to proceed, the local Institutional Review Board (“IRB”) needs to decide whether and how to inform the subjects of both the individual and institutional conflict. Equity held in Newco, board seats, managerial roles, and consulting and other relationships between the university and Newco heighten the perceived conflict and the measures the IRBs may find necessary to effect adequate disclosure. Note that compliance with the current NIH and NSF regulations regarding conflicts of interest does not insulate your institution from adverse press coverage of research done on behalf of a company in which your investigator has a relationship or in which your institution holds stock or indeed simply from which it receives royalties.19 The federal policy may be changing, but it is important to think ahead about the full range of possible adverse public perception. 17 Note, in this vein, S. Stolberg, Scientists Often Mum About Ties To Industry, N.Y. Times, Apr. 25, 2001, at A-17 (“Scientists who report research findings are expected to divulge any financial ties that might influence their work. But often they do not, according to the first comprehensive analysis of disclosure policies in science and medical journals.”)(reporting on a study by Dr. Sheldon Krimsky, Tufts University). 18 Some have argued that at large research institutions, an institutional conflict may often be more theoretical than real, because widely distributed decision-making authority that characterizes these institutions means that focused decisionmakers such as the IRB or the Office of Sponsored Research have no idea whether the institution holds equity in the venture sponsoring the protocol and thus are unlikely to be inappropriately influenced. If this is so, then, ironically, as the conflict of interest process matures and broad public disclosures of institutional holdings become increasingly de rigueur, the decision-makers’ awareness of university interests increases and actual conflict of interest may be heightened. On the other hand, perhaps the awareness of institutional interests has always been present and potent, but simply unspoken. The regulations can be found at 42 C.F.R. Part 50, Subpart F (“Responsibility of Applicants for Promoting Objectivity in Research for Which PHS Funding is Sought”); 45 C.F.R. Part 94 (“Responsible Prospective Contractors”); National Science Foundation Grants Policy Manual 510 (Conflicts of Interest Policies), <http://www.nsf.gov:80/bfa/cpo/gpm95/start.htm>; 60 Fed. Reg. 35820 (July 11, 1995)(Notice of technical changes to investigator financial disclosure policy); 21 CFR Part 54 (“Financial Disclosure by Clinical Investigators”)(FDA). Note, for example, that royalty interests paid through the institution are excluded from the federal definition of “significant financial interest” that is the core of the conflict of interest regulation (e.g., 42 C.F.R. § 50.603); that institutional conflicts of interest are not addressed by them; and that family members whose financial interests must be cumulated with the faculty members do not include such persons as a parent or a brother-in-law, who may well be important parts of the full account of related financial relationships (e.g., 42 C.F.R. § 50.604(c)). Also, to the extent a faculty member has received options or warrants, he or she may not report them as “significant financial interests” since they often have an uncertain value, when all Newco’s stock is still privately held. Yet the incentive provided by such options may still create a conflict to all appearances. 19 10 ♦ Use of university physical facilities. Most universities appear to decline to make their physical plant available to Newco, recognizing the possible adverse effects on their tax-exempt status and their property tax liability. At the same time, some observe that Professor Genome is likely to be working on his SBIR application and business plan for Newco from his university office, and that such activities are difficult to monitor and to bar categorically. ♦ Enforcing a license to Newco in the event of breach. This is a particular subset of institutional conflict of interest. Many institutions face difficulties in determining how best to handle a breach of a license by a related start-up. Because of the investment Professor Genome or the TTO may feel in Newco, it may be advisable to consult with an independent advisor in cases of costly breach to determine the commercially reasonable course of action. These questions are difficult to consider in the abstract – the answers may be determined by the type of research in question and the circumstances of the department. Institutions may even need to consider who, internally, should be developing and enforcing relevant policy: the Dean of Research, the OTT, the Office of Sponsored Research, the Conflict of Interests Committee, the Institutional Review Board, or the Office of the General Counsel, for example. But a reasoned analysis should be conducted in each case. Questions for your institution: 5. Should you accept sponsored research back from Newco? If so, who can serve as principal investigator on the research? Under what conditions should postdocs and grad students be permitted to work on Newco’s sponsored research? What mechanisms do you have for ensuring that appropriate terms are set in the sponsored research agreement and in any material transfer agreements with Newco, particularly in cases where there is an institutional interest in Newco? Is your conflict of interest process adequately robust as it concerns staff of the TTO and other non-faculty employees of the university? Does it address the TTO member who licenses to a start-up and then leaves to be employed by the start-up? Particular Aspects of Faculty Relationships with Newco University policy needs to address in what circumstances, if any, it is permissible for Professor Genome to take management positions or a board of directors seat on Newco. Some institutions permit such management roles to be assumed if his academic commitments can be met; others find, for example, too much conflict and exposure to inhere in faculty service in these roles. These roles and related rules are variably approached at different institutions. 11 Faculty founders at many institutions regularly participate in Newco, however, by taking consulting agreements or sitting on Newco’s Scientific Advisory Board. In addition to the general conflicts of interest concerns discussed above that are raised by the dual loyalties and financial interests of faculty, counsel for the university should be aware of the potential inherent in these consultancies for faculty members even unintentionally to give away their intellectual property. Especially in dealing with a start-up founded on a license to the faculty member’s intellectual property, the risks of ceding valuable property to the company are significant. Their consultancies may also restrict their outside work in a given field and may carry incentives for or against continuing academic research in a field. Faculty may be compensated for this work by cash, stock, or options that may create incentives for them not to evaluate the restrictions as rigorously as they should. Because they ostensibly concern Professor Genome’s extra-curricular activity, these agreements seem not always to be subject to review and approval by university staff. The potential for inappropriate intrusion should be weighed against the potential for inappropriate compromise (whether purposeful or not) of the faculty member’s commitment to the university. In assessing your policy on this and on other start-up related questions, it can be useful to solicit the varying views of faculty members of different generations, the TTO, and high-level university administrators, and to be aware of their varying perspectives and goals. Especially in situations where faculty are expected to support significant portions of their salaries and research through self-generated grants, universities must recognize that the financial incentives propelling investigators toward participating actively in a start-up and tolerating conflict may be particularly strong. Structural changes may be the only meaningful way to address concerns that (as one observer wrote) “the potential for commercial rewards will color researchers’ judgments or lure them away from important research that is less likely to yield a lucrative patent, spinoff company, or stock options in a company sponsoring the research.”20 One wonders whether, in the current climate and research economy, such profound changes could even be contemplated by many institutions, however. Questions for your institution: 6. Do you place any restrictions on the terms of faculty consulting agreements or scientific advisory board memberships with start-ups in which they have an ownership interest? How do you review such faculty consulting agreements? Conflicts of Counsel Some institutions have encountered difficulties in obtaining appropriately expert counsel for the legal and business aspects of complicated start-ups. Some rely on in-house counsel to review documents and work with the TTO to provide the legal articulation of the new company and its relationships. The more sophisticated start-ups often require the assistance of specialists in intellectual property, corporate, and perhaps tax law, who can move as quickly as the venture requires – a need for speed that is often incompatible with the pre-existing obligations of the in-house counsel. It is often the case, 20 K. Lively, AAUP Urges Professors to Play Key Role in Crafting Conflict-of-Interest Policies, Chronicle of Higher Education (May 22, 2001) <http://www.chronicle.com/daily.2001/05/2001052206n.htm.> 12 however, that the law firms with such specialties are more interested in representing the venture capitalists or Newco than advocating the interests of the nonprofit universities; it can be difficult to retain counsel whom one is confident will represent the university, not the “deal” or the VCs. It is important, however, to try to establish a long-term relationship with a reliable, high-quality firm to provide counsel on complex deals. It is important to have counsel that will be sensitive to the special needs of higher-education clients – the importance of conflicts, of publication rights, and so on – as well as savvy about the culture of the VC and the start-up. Questions for your institution: 7. What should the role of inside counsel be in lawyering faculty start-ups? Do you have appropriate outside counsel for such deals? Have you addressed possible conflicts with counsel? The University Seat on the Board: Yes or No? Most universities appear not to accept voting seats on the board of directors of start-up companies in which they hold equity. The commonly-cited concerns are of exposure for actions of the Company, possible liability arising from competing fiduciary duties to Newco, potentially large demands of time for responsibly acting as a board member, and adverse publicity. There is an alternative view, however, and that is that legal liability is not particularly heightened by a seat on the Board; the university gains credibility with venture capital contributors if it participates in early stage management of the company; the university is only able to persuade and voice its views about its public interest concerns (location of the company, development of the technology, additional research) if it participates in this way; and that all board members on a start-up have some conflict of interest – an observation that neutralizes the adverse effect of the conflict in the university representative. Moreover, the public relations exposure may be there just by virtue of the university license and equity ownership; the increased exposure by Board membership is incremental and is offset by the increased voice the university has to influence the company to make appropriate decisions. Board membership can be resigned if need arises. Effective and safe participation surely requires sophistication and sensitivity and time, and may not be for the faint of heart, but it is worth considering the possible benefits and looking hard at the real risks before making a policy choice. If you choose to pursue this course, consider developing a directive to the board representative outlining duties under law and policy; and evaluate the institution’s related insurance coverage and indemnification policy. Questions for your institution: Will your University accept a seat on the Board of a start-up in which it holds equity? If so, under what conditions? If so, what guidelines does it give its representative? If not, will it accept an observer seat? 13 8. If not, how does it communicate with the start-up about decisions affecting the ultimate public benefit goals of the University – or will it settle for silence? Making it work Assuming your institution has in place and has well-publicized all of the appropriate policies and procedures, endorsed at the highest levels, how do you help ensure that the university’s start-ups succeed and the university’s public interest goals are maintained? A few suggestions: (a) Make sure your institution is doing a start-up for the right reasons: as the highest and best way to get a promising technology to the public, for the public benefit (b) Ensure that there is regular informal and formal communication between the Office of Technology Transfer, the Dean of Research, the Office for Sponsored Research, the Conflict of Interest Committee, possibly your IRB (if clinical research is involved), and your office of General Counsel with regard to a given start-up and the technology transfer program generally (c) Ensure that your institution is committing the necessary resources to running its conflict of interest program and supporting conflict of commitment (d) Find the right people to run your technology transfer operation: with scientific, business, legal, university, and industrial background, sensitive to all the various cultures that are involved; capable of assessing the ultimate benefit of the deal and the likelihood of obtaining effective licensees without doing a start-up, or finding serious venture capital, and dealing with related diplomatic issues with faculty and others. Develop compensation strategies for TTO personnel that include appropriate rewards but that do not create incentives to develop start-ups at the expense of the university’s core mission. (e) Work on creating realistic expectations for faculty, and telling faculty “no” to a start-up proposal, when the prospects for success seem not to justify the commitment of resources; if your technology transfer office supports the start-up and is taking the lead, be cognizant of the risks and rewards of involving faculty extensively in the details of start-up plans and license negotiations. (f) Think carefully about how to measure the success of your start-ups and your licensing operation as a whole: annual licensing income does not tell the whole story. (g) Give careful consideration to how the University is using its royalty and startup income, if you are have such income. Consider devoting it only to future research activities. 14 Faculty Start-Ups University Profile 1. The model 2. What model of start-up does the University use? Is the faculty member or the Tech Transfer Office the lead? Who decides when to establish a new company to take a license and develop technology? What standards are applied? The University role Pre-formation: Locate VC? Prepare business plan? Protect IP? Find management? At formation: Take equity? For license initiation, license-related? For founding? Board of Directors? Receive sponsored research? Terms of the IP license? After formation: Allow the company to use any university resources (space, other)? How to monitor company and faculty member activity? What student involvement to permit? What resources to commit to monitoring situation for conflicts? Track and manage equity Process: Who decides the answers to these questions, and how? 3. The faculty member Take equity? Consultancy? (if permitted, who scrutinizes terms?) Scientific Advisory Board? Board of Directors? Officer? Serve as PI on sponsored research from start-up? Clear limits on time commitment to company – to ensure continued robust participation on faculty? Is he or she subject to a written conflict of interest management plan? How is he or she sanctioned if strays from plan? 15