In August 2009, David Wales — a nutrition industry executive who co-founded American Biosciences — read an editorial in the New York Times that profoundly impacted his life and the future of his company.

The article was written by James D. Watson, the legendary and controversial Nobel Prize winner who co-discovered the DNA double helix in 1953. Watson, who died on November 6, 2025, at age 97, was a progenitor of modern medical genetics and a champion for the application of genetics in cancer research and clinical care.

But in this New York Times piece, titled “To Fight Cancer, Know the Enemy,” Watson essentially said that the genetics research establishment was barking up the wrong tree in its quest to “cure” cancer via genetic solutions.

“I fear we still do not yet have in hand the ‘miracle drugs’ that, acting alone or in combination, would stop most metastatic cancer cells in their tracks. To develop them, we may have to turn our main research focus away from decoding the genetic instructions behind cancer and toward understanding the chemical reactions within cancer cells,” he wrote.

This was a major shift in attitude. After all, James Watson led the charge in the great race to find genetic causes of cancer. He was among the first “field marshals” in Nixon’s War on Cancer, and he advised the National Cancer Institute throughout the 1970s. As head of the Human Genome Project from 1990 to 1992, he was a main driver in the effort to decode the genes and mutations that underlie neoplasia and malignancy.

But he was an honest-enough scientist to acknowledge that the quest had gone off the rails. By the mid-2000s, he recognized that from the perspective of actual patient care, the research community’s obsession with genes was leading nowhere.

So, he called for a shift away from chasing genes, and toward what we now call metabolomics — the study of the myriad factors reflecting and influencing cell metabolism.

David Wales and his business partner, Rick Jahnke, were convinced that the research supporting their company’s flagship product, a standardized, concentrated, fermented wheat germ extract (FWGE) then called Avemar, was precisely the sort of work for which Watson was clamoring.

So they emailed him and asked him to review the published studies showing that their FWGE could modulate cancer cell metabolism in ways that minimized cancer proliferation and optimized human survival.

Neither Wales nor Jahnke had formal research training, nor did they hold academic titles that would cut muster within the scientific establishment. They also knew that Watson — a man with a formidable mind and a discovery that literally changed the world — had a reputation for being difficult, confrontational, and not inclined to pay attention to people he considered beneath him.

It took a good bit of nerve to approach Watson. But Wales and Jahnke were convinced they were on to something, that their product really did affect cancer cell behavior, and the research they funded merited serious scientific attention.

To their delight, Watson was indeed willing to take a look at FWGE. After considering the quality of the work American Biosciences (ABS) had sponsored on a modest budget, he took a shine to Wales and Jahnke, and invited them out to the esteemed Cold Spring Harbor Laboratory on Long Island, NY, where he was chancellor.

After an initial conversation, Watson spontaneously invited Wales and Jahnke to begin a research collaboration at CSHL that led not only to two published papers and a re-formulation of the FWGE product, but also to a friendship that gave these natural products execs a rare glimpse into the mind and life of a brilliant, contentious man whose impact on science and culture is hard to overestimate.

“It was like meeting the Wizard of Oz,” Wales recalled of his first meeting with “Jim,” as Watson preferred to be called. “He was a brilliant, brilliant guy. He seemed to know everything. A lot of people didn’t like him, but Rick and I got on very well with him,” said Wales, who first read Watson’s 1964 book The Double Helix, when he was in college. At the time, he never dreamed he would one day share dinners with its author.

An Old Friend’s Legacy

What was it that prompted Watson, who was not a fan of dietary supplements or “alternative” medicine, to give even a moment of his time to early-stage research on a wheat germ extract?

Two things: first, Watson was deeply interested in the molecular biology of cancer, and FWGE contained phytochemicals that could push cell metabolism away from glycolysis — a hallmark of cancer cells — and toward oxidative phosphorylation, characteristic of normal healthy cells. 

Second, the research Wales and Jahnke presented came with a posthumous “recommendation” of sorts, from one of Watson’s old friends and mentors, Hungarian biochemist Albert Szent-Györgyi, the widely respected Nobel laureate credited with isolating vitamin C (which, in his time, was called Hexuronic acid) and for describing the citric acid cycle.

Watson had befriended Szent-Györgyi in the late 1940s after he’d emigrated to the U.S. and established the Institute for Muscle Research at the Marine Biological Laboratory in Woods Hole, MA. It was at Szent-Györgyi’s house on Cape Cod that Watson wrote the first draft of The Double Helix.

Szent-Györgyi had a longstanding interest in cancer biology, in part because the disease took the lives of his wife, Marta, and their daughter, Cornelia. He believed the key to understanding cancer, and thereby treating it, was to be found in the Warburg Effect. As Otto Warburg observed in the 1920s, most cancer cells, regardless of type, preferentially generate energy via glycolysis and lactic acid fermentation, rather than by oxidative phosphorylation (OxPhos).

Warburg’s observations sparked Szent-Györgyi’s quest for compounds with the potential to shift cell metabolism away from glycolysis and toward OxPhos.

In 1983, three years before his death, Szent-Györgyi published research describing certain benzoquinones in wheat germ that had notable anti-neoplastic properties against some types of cancer cells, especially when combined with ascorbates. These compounds did not destroy cancer cells as chemotherapy drugs do. Rather, as Szent-Györgyi described it, they caused a change in cellular metabolism leading to “an inability of the treated cells to replicate.” It was precisely the sort of shift he sought.

Multiple Mechanisms

Szent-Györgyi did not live long enough to delve further, and his observations might have gone nowhere, had it not been for Máté Hidvégi, PhD, another Hungarian researcher who picked up where Szent-Györgyi left off.

Hidvégi and others isolated, refined, and standardized the quinones initially identified by Szent-Györgyi, and then tested them against a wide range of human cancer types, including lymphomas, colorectal cancers, and melanoma. Among their key discoveries, they showed that FWGE could:

• Restrict cancer cell glucose uptake by limiting the activity of an enzyme called glucose-6-phosphate dehydrogenase [G-6-PDH];
• Inhibit transketolase (TK), an essential catalytic enzyme in the glycolytic reactions through which cancer cells produce ribose from glucose-derived carbons. Restriction of the TK-dependent pathway pushes metabolism back toward OxPhos, limiting proliferation;
• Promote cancer cell apoptosis;
• Reduce the number of MHC-1 molecules on tumor cell surfaces, rendering them more vulnerable to recognition and attack by natural killer cells;
• Raise levels of intercellular adhesion molecule-1 (ICAM-1) within tumor vasculature, facilitating entry of immune system cells into tumor tissue;
• Potentiate Tumor Necrosis Factor (TNF)-α;
• Inhibit ribonucleotide reductase (RR), an important enzyme in cancer cell DNA synthesis; and
• Inhibit cancer-promoting cyclooxygenase (COX) molecules.

Clinically Meaningful

These findings are not just molecular curiosities. They actually translate into significant clinical benefits.

A Phase III open-label clinical trial published in 2003 showed that six months of supplementation with the concentrated FWGE extract in combination with surgery, radiation treatment, and other conventional therapies could reduce colorectal cancer recurrence, minimize metastases, and improve survival.

An earlier study of 42 patients with Stage III melanoma showed that when combined with dacarbazine (DTIC), Avemar markedly improved progression-free one-year survival compared with DTIC alone (55% vs 39%). At the 12-month mark, melanoma had progressed in 75% of the patients on DTIC alone, but just 36% of those on DTIC plus Avemar.

Another trial showed that adding Avemar to standard protocols could reduce the recurrence and progression of oral squamous cell carcinoma. That study involved 43 patients treated with conventional therapies alone or conventional care plus Avemar for 12 months. The recurrence rate was 4.5% in the Avemar combo group, versus 57% with conventional care alone. And the disease progression rate was 9% for conventional care plus Avemar, versus 62% for conventional care alone.

Throughout these and other studies, Avemar FWGE proved to be very safe and generally well-tolerated. It shows a strong selectivity for cancer cells while sparing normal tissue. The levels that alter cancer cell metabolism are 50 times lower than those that might affect metabolism in normal non-cancer cells. The biggest problem with the product, taken as a powder mixed with water, was its unpleasant taste.

High Praise

It was these studies that Wales and Jahnke brought to James Watson’s attention. The elder scientist was very favorably impressed.

“It was very exciting because he validated everything we presented,” Wales recalled. “There was not one point on which he said, ‘No, no! That doesn’t make sense.’ In typical Watson fashion, he said right then and there, ‘Would you guys like to present to the entire lab?’ We weren’t prepared for that, but Watson just walked into this room where all the various lab leaders were meeting, and he interrupted them. We made the presentation, and they loved it.”

Before that day was out, Jahnke and Wales had an invitation to collaborate with a team at Cold Spring Harbor, one of the world’s foremost research institutions.

Guided by Watson and the Cold Spring Harbor team, the ABS team further refined the FWGE product by identifying and isolating the most biologically active fractions within it. In so doing, they could greatly reduce the effective dose, thereby improving tolerability and ease of use. Moreover, they could eliminate the gluten naturally present in wheat germ, rendering the product entirely gluten-free.

This super-concentrated, gluten-free formulation is called Metatrol. 

The collaboration between Watson’s team, Dr. Hidvégi, and scientists ABS also resulted in the identification of another important mechanism by which FWGE alters cancer cell biology. By increasing mitochondrial release of cytochrome c, Metatrol could inhibit melanoma cell growth by 68%. Cytochrome c is a signaling molecule that naturally induces apoptosis. Highly malignant cancer types, like melanoma, suppress cytochrome c production.

Published in 2020, this was among James Watson’s last major papers.

The Man Behind the Legend

For a few years, Wales and Jahnke spent a lot of time with James Watson, getting to know the human being who lived behind the legendary persona.

Though Watson had a reputation for being very serious about his work, and very demanding of his colleagues and subordinates, he was not “all work, and no play.”

Watson liked to gather his research teams for after-hours drinks and dinner at one of Cold Spring Harbor’s taverns. “He had this reputation for being antisocial, but he really encouraged everybody to get together at the end of the day, and have a drink or two, to talk and socialize,” Wales said.

The man also had a taste for sports cars. Even into his 90s, he was frequently spotted driving his Jaguar around the Cold Spring Harbor campus, sometimes at high speeds.

And he was a huge tennis fan, an interest that Jahnke shared. This led to a special connection.

“Being a business school guy with no scientific research training whatsoever, there wasn’t much I could really talk to him about, except that we both loved tennis,” Jahnke said. “So, we would talk tennis all the time. I went to the U.S. Open with him, and we spent the entire day together. That’s where I became friendly with him.”

Jahnke was aware of Watson’s 2007 book, Avoid Boring People: Lessons from a Life in Science. Driving back from the U.S. Open, Jahnke quipped that it must’ve been a tough day for Watson, who “got stuck with me — a boring business guy — for 14 hours. And he said, ‘Well, you’re not that boring.’”

Watson’s Shadow

Like many White males of his era, Jim Watson held racist and sexist attitudes, which he made little effort to hide. Along with his personal arrogance, these plagued him throughout his career.

He held that there were inherent genetic differences between European and African peoples, and that these traits translated into differences in intelligence and ability to reason. He also believed there’s something in melanin that confers stronger libido on darker-skinned people. “That’s why you have Latin Lovers,” he’s quoted as saying. “You’ve never heard of an English Lover.” He’s also quoted as stating that thin people are inherently more ambitious than fat people.

These views drew widespread criticism from many scientists and from the general public alike. They ultimately cost him his chancellorship at Cold Spring Harbor.

But the backlash did little to change his perspectives. In 2019, shortly after he was forced to step down from leadership at Cold Spring Harbor, he stated that his views on race and intelligence had not fundamentally changed.

“I would like for them to have changed, that there be new knowledge which says your nurture is much more important than nature.”

In reality, many researchers have published work contesting the genetic basis of race, as well as the notion that there are intrinsic, race-based differences in intellectual potential. Watson, it seems, chose to ignore or dismiss these papers.

Watson also held that there were intrinsic biological differences between women and men that translated into differences in aptitude for the sciences.

In The Double Helix, first published in 1968, he is patronizing and dismissive of Rosalind Franklin, a young researcher whose X-ray crystallography provided key clues to DNA’s structure, but who was never properly credited during her lifetime. Referring to her as “Rosy” — a nickname she never used and considered an affront — and calling her “shrewish” and “belligerent,” Watson justified usurpation of her work on the ground that she would never have derived DNA’s helical form on her own.

A 1980 edition of The Double Helix included an epilogue in which Watson apologized for his earlier negative portrayals of Franklin, admitting that he was wrong in his assessment of her character and scientific acumen.

Wales and Jahnke said they were well aware of Watson’s racism and sexism, and they stressed that they in no way share those views. Neither are they inclined to explain them away or minimize the pernicious impact of his bigotry.

But in their experience, Watson was not the malicious, eugenics-minded White supremacist that many of his critics portray him to be. Rather, they saw him as a socially inept, politically tone-deaf man convinced of his own brilliance, stuck in archaic ideas, and fond of taking provocative stances.

“Politically, he was actually very liberal,” Wales recalled. “I’d say he was uber-progressive.”

He was among 22 Nobel laureates to sign the 2003 Humanist Manifesto. And despite his aforementioned views on genetics and race, he strongly supported Barack Obama’s presidency. He also backed Bernie Sanders’ 2016 run for the presidency. 

Watson vehemently opposed the idea of patenting human genes — a stance that prompted him to resign from the Human Genome Project once the NIH made clear that it wanted to pursue patents on particular DNA sequences. He firmly believed that any and all discoveries from the Project should be made public within 24 hours to prevent them from falling prey to private monopolies.

In the 4-year battle over Myriad Genetics’ attempt to patent the BRCA1 and 2 genes, Watson filed an amicus curiae brief with the Supreme Court, arguing against the company, stating that “Life’s instructions ought not be controlled by legal monopolies.”

At the same time, he was equally firm in his conviction that if genetic testing and gene-based therapies could detect and cure human diseases, they ought to be widely used to do so. In his view, this included screening for birth defects and — should it ever become possible — use of genetic engineering to enhance human intelligence.

If that view has a whiff of eugenics, keep in mind that Watson was, himself, the parent of a child diagnosed with schizophrenia. Throughout his career, he was open about the plight of his son, Rufus, and expressed hope that genetic research could ultimately shed light on the causes of this and other serious mental illnesses. 

Equal Opportunity Antagonist

For what it’s worth, James Watson was an equal opportunity antagonist. In his books, he described various scientific colleagues as “dinosaurs,” “deadbeats,” “fossils,” and “has-beens.” His less-than-flattering portrayals of Francis Crick in The Double Helix — a book that overflows with as much personal drama as scientific data — caused a serious rift between the two that lasted for years.

He had particular animus for J. Craig Venter, himself a controversial figure, who started his genetics career at NIH, but left the Human Genome Project, founded Celera Genomics, and raced NIH to an uneasy tie in the quest to sequence the entire human genome. Venter is zealous in support of private-sector genomics, in direct opposition to Watson’s view.

During the heated competition between Celera and the Human Genome Project, Watson referred to Venter as “Hitler,” adding that the fruit fly genome — which Celera sequenced before taking on the human genome — was Venter’s “Poland.”

Wales and Jahnke did not gloss over Watson’s shadows. But in sharing dinners with him and his wife, Elizabeth, or going out with him and his research teams, they also got to know other sides of the man — his lightheartedness, his humor, his feelings for family.

Jahnke recalled that Watson expressed great concern about the well-being of his son, who struggled with schizophrenia. “He was very worried about his child. I remember him saying ‘If your kids are unhappy, do everything you can to get them into a happier situation. Don’t let it linger.’ That really stuck with me, in relation to my own kids.”

James Watson headed some of the world’s biggest scientific institutions, but he always considered himself an outsider who delighted in challenging establishments and the people who upheld them. Perhaps it was this tendency that prompted him to take two unknown natural-products entrepreneurs under his wing.

At the same time, Watson was by no means a champion of dietary supplements, and the ABS dynamic duo were not able to win him over. To the end, Watson was a firm believer in pharmaceuticals, and in his view, Metatrol should have been a prescription product.

Wales and Jahnke had a different vision. Firstly, they never viewed Metatrol as a treatment for cancer, but rather as a nutritional support product that could support a shift toward healthier cellular metabolic patterns.

Secondly, they knew that it would cost tens of millions and a lot of years to develop it as a prescription drug and get it approved. This would increase the product’s cost and render it inaccessible to many of the people who could most benefit from it.  

But the ABS team never held Watson’s pro-pharma bias against him. Wales said what he admired most about Watson was his unceasing curiosity and willingness to continue pursuing questions that interested him, even into his final years.

“We were in one of the last acts of his scientific career. And Dr. Watson gave us the opportunity to validate the research on FWGE and to transform the product. Even though he made a massive discovery decades ago, he didn’t stay put. He didn’t say, ‘OK, I did something great and now I can just move to the Bahamas and live on a yacht.’ He never stopped, and that’s the coolest part about him.”

Wales and Jahnke’s willingness to go out on a limb in contacting one of science’s biggest luminaries, and their success at winning him over, are testaments to what can happen when a nutraceutical company invests in serious clinical research, and its leaders engage with, rather than avoid, thought leaders within the scientific establishment. Their story, though quite unique, sets a very positive example for our industry.