Contrary to common criticism, Parrish argues that short telomeres cause the genomic instability leading to cancer. While most cancers activate telomerase to immortalize themselves, maintaining healthy telomere length in normal cells is a protective measure against developing cancer in the first place.
The "Valley of Death" where most biotech companies fail is not due to bad science but to the crippling cost of animal trials, which are poor predictors of human outcomes. Parrish argues for shifting focus directly to human data, as mice are not a reliable biological proxy for humans.
Parrish suggests that when analyzing criticism from the scientific community, one must consider financial motives. A researcher's funding and career are built on perpetuating research, not on translating it into real-world application, creating an inherent bias against moving too quickly.
Liz Parrish realized that creating drugs for children faced immense regulatory hurdles. By targeting aging in adults, she could de-risk gene therapies and develop treatments also applicable to childhood illnesses, creating a faster, more viable path to helping kids.
Liz Parrish admits she might have given up if not for intense and often inaccurate media scrutiny. Instead of discouraging her, the criticism fueled her determination to push forward and prove her controversial approach to gene therapy was valid.
Parrish argues that despite incredible advances, modern medicine has only produced two truly curative interventions. Everything else merely manages symptoms or extends life without curing the underlying disease, framing most of today's advanced treatments as palliative rather than curative.
Parrish refutes the "playing God" argument by explaining that gene therapy utilizes the same natural vector system that delivers genomes to species, a core driver of evolution. It's a nature-based technology that upregulates existing human genes, not an unnatural intervention.
Parrish explains her company was born from both science and the profound grief of witnessing her son's illness and the suffering in children's hospitals. This emotional impetus drove her to pursue unconventional and radical medical solutions, framing grief as a powerful catalyst for innovation.
Parrish cites the concept of "mortality priming," where awareness of death leads to stockpiling resources and insular thinking. She argues that solving aging could be a prerequisite for solving global issues, as it would shift humanity's focus toward long-term, collective well-being.
Parrish criticizes the celebration of marginal improvements in treatments, like an Alzheimer's drug with 2% efficacy. She argues this incrementalism isn't due to scientific limitations but is a business strategy based on patenting minor changes, while more effective gene therapies are often shelved.
Liz Parrish pushes back against claims that her work is reckless or too fast. She contends her team moves too slowly, spending years studying each therapy. Their pace only appears rapid in comparison to the extremely slow processes of mainstream medical research and regulation.
Curing a single major killer like cancer would only extend the average population's lifespan by two years. This is because diseases like cancer and heart disease are symptoms of a root cause: cellular aging. Without addressing aging, another age-related disease will quickly emerge.