After more details he added, "I profoundly believe the new suggested research arm would strengthen our most critical resource area and hasten discovery of the important new drugs our company so desperately needs.”
Why Britain? Anticipating the question, Sam proceeded to answer it. "Traditionally, through centuries, Britain has been a world leader in basic scientific research. Within this century alone, consider some of the great discoveries which were British in origin and which changed our way of life dramatically-penicillin, television, modem radar, the airplane jet engine, to name just four. "Of course," Sam pointed out, "it was American companies which developed those inventions and reaped commercial benefits -this because of the unique ability of Americans to develop and market, an ability the British so often lack. But the original discoveries, in those and other instances, were British. "If you asked me for a reason," he continued, "I would say there are fundamental, inherent differences between British and American higher education. Each system has its strengths. But in Britain the differences produce an academic and scientific curiosity unmatched elsewhere. It is that same curiosity we can, and should, harness to our advantage.”
Sam dealt at length with costs, then concluded, "It can be argued that embarking on a major costly project at this critical time in our company's existence is reckless and ill-advised. And, yes, a new research institute will be a heavy financial burden. But I believe it would be even more reckless, even more ill-advised, to continue to drift and not take strong, positive, daring action for the future action which is needed now!"
Opposition to Sam Hawthorne's plan surfaced with astounding speed and strength. The proposal was, as someone put it, "scarcely out of the Xerox machine" and beginning to circulate among company directors and a few senior officers when Sam's telephone began ringing, the callers forceful with objections.”Sure the Brits have had their scientific glories," one director argued, "but nowadays American achievements far exceed them, so your whole contention, Sam, is laughable.”
Others focused on-as one board member expressed it heatedly- "the absurd and backward-looking notion of locating a research center in an effete, run-down, has-been country.”
"You'd have thought," Sam confided to Lilian a few evenings later over dinner, "that I'd suggested canceling the Declaration of Independence and taking us back to colonial status.”
Something Sam was teaming quickly was that holding the company's top job neither gave him carte blanche to do as he wished nor freed him from the shifting sands of corporate politics. A practicing expert in company politics was the director of research, Vincent Lord, also an immediate objector to Sam's proposal. While agreeing that more money should be spent on research, Dr. Lord described the idea of doing so in Britain as 'InaIve" and Sam Hawthorne's view of British science as "kindergarten thinking, founded on a propaganda myth.”
The unusually strong, even insulting words were in a memo addressed to Sam, with a copy to a friend and ally of Vince Lord's on the board of directors. On first reading the memo, Sam burned with anger and, leaving his office, sought out Vincent Lord on the research director's own ground. Walking on impeccable polished floors through the research division's glass-lined, air-filtered corridors, Sam was reminded of the many millions of dollars, virtually limitless sums, expended by Felding-Roth on research equipment-modem, computerized, gleaming, occasionally mysterious-housed in pleasant, spacious laboratories and served by an army of white-coated scientists and technicians. What was here represented an academic scientist's dream, but was a norm for any major pharmaceutical company. The money poured into drug research was seldom, if ever, stinted. It was only the specifics of expenditure which occasionally, as now, became a subject for argument. Vincent Lord was in his paneled, book-lined, brightly lighted office. The door was open and Sam Hawthorne walked in, nodding casually to a secretary outside who had been about to stop himthen, seeing who it was, changed her mind. Dr. Lord, in a White coat over shirtsleeves, was at his desk, frowning as he so often did, at this moment over a paper he was reading. He looked up in surprise, his dark eyes peering through rimless. glasses, his ascetic face showing annoyance at the unannounced intrusion. Sam had been carrying Lord's memo. Putting it on the desk, he announced, "I came to talk about this.”
The research director made a half-hearted gesture of rising, but Sam waved him down.”Informal, Vince," Sam said.”Informal, and some face-to-face, blunt talking.”
Lord glanced at the memo on his desk, leaning forward short-sightedly to confirm its subject matter.”What don't you like about it?" the content and the tone.”
"What else is there?" Sam reached for the paper and turned it around.”It's quite well typed.”
"I suppose," Lord said with a sardonic smile, "now that you're head honcho, Sam, you'd like to be surrounded by 'yes men.”
' Sam Hawthorne sighed. He had known Vince Lord for fifteen years, had grown accustomed to the research director's difficult ways, and was prepared to make allowances for them. He answered mildly, "You know that isn't true. What I want is a reasoned discussion and better causes for disagreeing with me than you've given already.”
"Speaking of reasoning," Lord said, opening a drawer of his desk and removing a file, "I strongly object to a statement of yours.”
"Which one?" "About our own research.”
Consulting the file, Lord quoted from Sam's proposal about the British institute.” "While our competitors have introduced major, successful new drugs, we have had only minor ones. Nor do we have anything startling in sight.”
"So prove me wrong.”
"We have a number of promising developments in sight," Lord insisted. "Several of the new, young scientists I've brought in are working-"
"Vince," Sam said, "I know about those things. I read your reports, remember? Also, I applaud the talent you've recruited.”
It was true, Sam thought. One of Vincent Lord's strengths across the years had been his ability to attract some of the cream of scientific newcomers. A reason was that Lord's own reputation was still high, despite his failure to achieve the major discovery that had been expected of him for so long. Nor was there any real dissatisfaction with Lord's role as research director; the dry spell was one of those misfortunes that happened to drug companies, even with the best people heading their scientific sides. "The progress reports I send to you," Lord said, "are always weighted with caution. That's because I have to be wary about letting you and the merchandising gang become excited about something which is still experimental.”
"I know that," Sam said, "and I accept it.”
He was aware that in any drug company a perpetual tug-of-war existed between sales and manufacturing on the one hand and research on the other. As the sales people expressed it, "Research always wants to be a hundred and ten percent sure of every goddam detail before they'll say, 'Okay, let's go!' " Manufacturing, similarly, was eager to gear up for production and not be caught out by sudden demands when a new drug was required in quantity. But, on the other side of the equation, researchers accused the merchandising arm of "wanting to rush madly onto the market with a product that's only twenty percent proven, just to beat competitors and have an early lead in sales.”
"What I'll tell you now, and what isn't in my reports," Vincent Lord informed Sam, "is that we're getting excitingly good results with two compounds--one, a diuretic, the other an anti-inflammatory for rheumatoid arthritis.”