Abstract
In this article, we analyze the National Cancer Institute’s Virus Cancer Programs (1964–1978). The NCI’s organizational mandate established program goals that iteratively braided together both scientific research and public health outcomes. The distinctive environment of the NCI as a federal research institute made scientific programs accountable to evaluations of both experimental and administrative appropriateness. To this end, NCI scientist-administrators adopted management techniques drawn from the Cold War defense industry to direct open-ended exploratory research on virally induced cancers, aimed at developing a vaccine as a public health solution to cancer. Facing the limitations of the state of viral cancer research as simultaneously an administrative and experimental problem, the Programs launched a monumental effort to develop infrastructure for cancer virus studies through long-term planning initiatives utilizing defense-style networks of contracted academic laboratories throughout the US. The organizational mandate guiding the Programs contributed to conceptual and experimental changes that directly led to the subversion of its fundamental presupposition of viral causation in favor of the cellular oncogene theory. We thus propose a reinterpretation of the historiography of the oncogene hypothesis as a radical break from viral explanations of cancer etiology, a reinterpretation that re-centers the direct contributions this federal vaccine program made to current molecular biological explanations of cancer causation.
The twentieth century witnessed an unprecedented growth in large-scale technoscientific projects. As paradigmatic research and development enterprises like the Manhattan Project suggests, ‘big science’ frequently proceeded from ‘big state’ intervention. 1 However, whereas ambitious wartime projects were easily justified by appeals to national security, peacetime technoscientific state projects could not take such a political mandate for granted. Advocates and leaders of civilian technoscientific enterprises faced the need to define new standards of public accountability to justify the sizable investments in domestic development which they sought. This was especially true of biomedical research, which emerged as a vibrant site of scientific innovation in the United States. The polio vaccine, for example, showcased the nation’s capacity to coordinate large-scale private research efforts to meet an urgent peacetime need; the National Cancer Institute took a leading role in the oversight of cancer chemotherapy screening and clinical testing programs; and the distribution of radioisotopes by the Atomic Energy Commission promised new ways of studying life and treating cancer (Bud, 1978; Creager, 2013; Keating and Cambrosio, 2011; Oshinsky, 2005).
Federal support for vaccine innovation captured the imagination of the public and planners. On the heels of the polio vaccine’s success, agencies in the US Public Health Service considered how the public concern mobilized to design and distribute the vaccine might be expanded to develop the scientific infrastructure necessary to further future public health victories. In the early 1960s, the US National Cancer Institute (NCI) initiated a campaign to develop and organize the necessary infrastructure for creating a universal cancer vaccine based upon promising animal research suggesting that viruses may cause many human cancers. These cancer virus vaccine programs (to which we refer collectively as the ‘NCI Cancer Virus Programs’) proceeded through various expansions of personnel and focus, serially named the Special Virus Leukemia Program (SVLP), the Special Virus Cancer Program (SVCP), and the Virus Cancer Program (VCP). The Programs elevated cancer virology to the second-largest field of expenditure at the NCI, and formed the core of expansive plans to manage cancer research as a whole during the War on Cancer of the 1970s (Chubin and Studer, 1978; Gaudillière, 1998; Scheffler, 2014, 2019; Yi, 2016). Indeed, these programs were greater in scope than the later Human Genome Project (Scheffler, 2019: 3). The rapid expansion of the NCI Cancer Virus Programs is especially noteworthy given that, at the time of their inception, there was no firm evidence that viruses caused cancers in humans. Indeed, numerous experts in virology and oncology forcefully argued that viruses played no such role in human cancer (Chubin and Studer, 1978; Rettig, 1977: 63–70; Wade, 1971; Walsh, 1974).
A number of historians and STS scholars have examined heated debates over state planning of science that emerged in the United States during the early Cold War. One prominent thread of scholarship addresses the attitudes of scientists toward planning rather than focusing on the broader publics to which planners regarded themselves accountable (Dennis, 2004; Shapin, 2008; Wang, 2002). Another prominent thread emphasizes how planning and values of industrial efficiency were intertwined, but takes for granted that the aims of its research were either supported or advanced by legitimate technoscientific questions (Gaudillière and Löwy, 1998; Rader, 2004; Westwick, 2003). For example, while there had been prior large-scale efforts to develop vaccines, these were predicated on scientific consensus that a microbial cause existed. Neither of these perspectives provides a full understanding of why the NCI would invest many billions of dollars in such a speculative project. One means of understanding the NCI’s actions is the growth of ‘promissory’ politics that STS scholars have traced in contemporary biomedical and biotechnological research, but these studies do not explore historical antecedents (Adams et al., 2009; Brosnan and Michael, 2014; Martin et al., 2008).
We place a different value at the core of examining the planning process intertwined with discussions of promissory politics: accountability. The NCI used management methods drawn from Cold War systems planning techniques to pursue accountability in two dimensions: accountability of a federal health agency to the promise of future medical developments pertaining to cancer, and accountability to scientific systems of conceptual and experimental articulation. During the 1960s, these two forms of accountability interpolated into one another through the process of centralized state planning to create infrastructure for cancer virus vaccine research infrastructure.
We claim that the development of this infrastructure through Cold War systems management techniques was in the end generative of new kinds of knowledge. Generation rests between the poles of naturalist and constructionist approaches to experimental knowledge. Infrastructure created new material conditions essential to the study of cancer viruses, but these conditions neither determine scientific outcomes nor merely aid the observation of natural phenomena – instead, it was the working through of unpredictable experimental phenomena within the infrastructure that the NCI’s system of public health governance created that produced new innovations. The research supported by the Programs during its operative years yielded neither proof of a human cancer virus nor a vaccine, but it did play a vital role in the emergence of a new theory of cancer causation that also promised to place explanation of cellular growth and development as a whole on a molecular basis: the cellular oncogene theory. Although this theory confounded the aims of the NCI’s Cancer Virus Programs, its impetus, key experiments and validation were productively entangled with the infrastructure it created.
We analyze the origins of the dual accountability system at the NCI and the consequences that the infrastructure of the Cancer Virus Programs had for studies of the molecular biology of cancer. We first discuss the role of management theory in the NCI’s efforts to develop a cancer vaccine, locating these in frustrations that the scientific community alone would not work to translate biological research into medical advances. In the second historical episode we examine what happens when the goals of the Programs were redefined in the wake of a dearth of experimental support for a cancer vaccine. Under the leadership of NCI scientist Robert Huebner, the Programs invested heavily in efforts to identify a viral ‘oncogene’. The infrastructure of this effort provides the context for the generation and later reception of a 1976 paper co-authored by future Nobel Prize winners J Michael Bishop and Harold Varmus (then faculty at the University of California, San Francisco), commonly regarded as the origin point of the cellular oncogene theory with their identification of the src cellular proto-oncogene. Through documentation of the dependence of Bishop and Varmus’s laboratory upon experiments designed to contribute to the NCI Cancer Virus Program, we demonstrate that the 1976 paper and its relevance to the cellular oncogene theory is an innovation continuous with infrastructure assembled to support Huebner’s experimental project, rather than a serendipitous epistemic break from the NCI’s virus vaccine goals.
The generative potential of biomedical infrastructure
STS scholars typically examine experimental trajectories and innovations by centering specific technical interventions and material practices at an individual or laboratory scale. Studies of the creation and development of model organisms or platforms for this activity at this scale highlight the entanglement of both the generation of knowledge and its acceptance with broader moral and political economies of research (Clarke and Fujimura, 1992; Creager, 2002; Creager et al., 2007; Daston, 2000; Keating and Cambrosio, 2003; Kohler, 1994; Rader, 2004). We argue this frame can be usefully expanded to the political dimensions of knowledge production by expanding our understanding of infrastructure and experimental systems.
We start with experimental systems as discussed by Rheinberger (1997). These systems are evolving configurations of practical, conceptual and material apparatus arranged in a laboratory for the purpose of pursuing an ‘epistemic thing’, a future phenomenon whose definition and operation exceeds the system’s capacity to fully manifest it in the present. Unlike the focus on epistemic stability or replicability associated with model organisms, Rheinberger highlights the actions of scientists as they adjust their laboratory practices and their understanding of the history and future of their experimental results to make sense of unexpected or unpredictable events. However, although Rheinberger (1997: 21) defines these systems as ‘irrevocably local’ and largely self-contained, we wish to extend the boundaries of the systems outwards to much broader societal contexts.
To extend these boundaries, we adapt recent work by philosopher Rouse (2015) that extends the conditions shaping what Rheinberger (1997) calls the ‘differential reproduction’ of experimental systems – that is, changes scientists make to experimental systems over time in response to emergent problems – to include a richer composition of scientists’ environments beyond the laboratory. Rouse (2015: 299) argues that ‘laboratory phenomena are intentionally directed beyond themselves’, as they form particular experimental lineages that extend both backward and forward in time and change to accommodate the continuation of scientific practices. Differential reproduction is driven by scientists’ efforts to continue an experimental lineage that is accountable to two simultaneous commitments: the first regarding ‘what is at issue’ in defining what is going on in a particular experimental situation, the second encompassing ‘what is at stake’ in a particular interpretation of an experimental situation relative to a ‘more extensive cultural-conceptual heritage’ (Rouse, 2015: 339).
Put differently, experimentation involves performative articulations of what something is alongside what it is good for. Issues and stakes are inextricable; both are necessary to the continuation of scientific practice, because both contribute to changes scientists make to their socio-material environments in service to the ongoing differential reproduction of a given line of inquiry (Rouse, 2015: 216–217). Rouse argues that scientific practices are indelibly marked by the practical conditions from which they emerge – that is, environments co-constituted in the interplay of materiality and meaning as they iteratively unfold in scientific organizations with distinctive missions, planning apparatus and systems of accountability.
Our focus on the organizational influences and differential reproduction provides a bridge between laboratory-scale studies of the social construction of scientific knowledge and attempts to theorize the social technologies of bureaucracies as powerful political and epistemic tools for reshaping actors’ material environments (Gitelman, 2014; Hull, 2012; Riles, 2006). In the case of the NCI, the Programs’ extraordinary growth rested primarily upon NCI planners’ creation of novel bureaucratic methods to make fugitive human cancer viruses amenable to scientific and organizational planning. Thus the framing of human cancer viruses as administrative objects was a central innovation of the system that initially enabled the SVLP to develop at the NCI (Scheffler, 2014).
The relationship between these bureaucratic structures and the material conditions of scientific innovation is mediated by infrastructure. Our examination of the NCI’s investments in cancer virus research dovetails with STS work on infrastructure examining the technoscientific scaffolding that enables cooperation and coordination among public and private knowledge producers (Carroll, 2006; Creager, 2013; Creager and Landecker, 2009; Mukerji, 2015; Srinivas, 2012). In the case of cancer viruses, the NCI used the resources it was able to marshal through the expansion of the administrative state to play an ‘entrepreneurial’ role in virus cancer research, investing in risky and underfunded topics and thus outrunning academic consensus to transform the intellectual and material topography faced by individual biomedical researchers (Mazzucato, 2015).
In this entrepreneurial role, rather than passively awaiting scientific discoveries after providing financial support, the NCI spearheaded technoscientific capacity-building projects that would later form the conditions for new markets in biotechnology to emerge. Such activities went beyond the regulatory or financial support functions ascribed by markets to state science and technology agencies, and bring our attention to the ongoing projects wherein regulatory governments continue to act in certain sectors more like interventionist developmental states (Block and Keller, 2009, 2015; Mazzucato, 2015).
In this interpretation of experimental systems and infrastructure building, not only is the relationship between scientific ontology (whether and which cancer viruses existed) and epistemology (the practical and material processes necessary to produce knowledge about viruses) constitutive of scientific innovation, but state administrative practices and priorities serve as generative rather than incidental means of pursuing innovation. Locating cancer vaccine research during the 1960s and 1970s within the operational and planning apparatus of the NCI, and within Bishop and Varmus’s laboratory, we approach experimental findings as emergent from a complex infrastructure comprising the instruments of science – including technicians, enzymes, animals, protocols, virus strains and specialized facilities – as well as the instruments of bureaucracy – planning documents, budgets, project specifications, audits and contracts. The purpose of Program research was not only to produce knowledge about the ‘epistemic thing’ that was a viral oncogene, but also to create infrastructure that would make such a discovery meaningful and consequential to medical science and public health. Both forms of accountability broadly influenced the decisions Program scientists made.
Tumor virus research and the possibility of a cancer vaccine
In the late 1950s, cancer virus research seemed poised to follow in the successful path of polio vaccination. The Nobel Prize-winning virologist Wendell Stanley assured audiences across the country that ‘the experimental evidence is consistent with the idea that viruses are the etiological agents of most, if not all, cancer, including cancer in man’ (Stanley, 1957: 47). 2 The Director of the National Cancer Institute appeared before Congress in 1958 with a special request of one million dollars for cancer virology, a sum triple what the American Cancer Society spent on this field annually. 3 He promised that ‘the stage was set’ for ‘major breakthroughs’ against cancer. 4 Given this unalloyed endorsement, Congress approved the request. In the wake of this dramatic legislative intervention, the National Advisory Cancer Council received a report forecasting that with a wave of ‘recent discoveries, it is now fully evident that there are excellent opportunities for intensive investigations of virus tumors and tumor-viruses’. As such, the Council should seriously consider cancer’s ‘possible prevention by vaccines’. 5
The possibility of a cancer vaccine emerged from findings generated by studies of tumor viruses in animals. At issue was not only the question of whether viral transmission could account for some unexplained phenomena in the laboratory, such as apparent ‘vertical transmission’ of certain tumors between affected mouse mothers and their suckling offspring, but also epidemiological evidence of ‘leukemia clusters’ concentrated in American towns like Niles, Illinois (Gross, 1951; Schwartz et al., 1963). A successful cancer vaccine could also show what sort of return the nation’s investment in biological research could realize for public health, a core tenet of its activist and legislative backers.
As a constituent organization of the Public Health Service’s National Institutes of Health, the National Cancer Institute has long been responsible for developing medical science that would advance the health and welfare of the American citizenry. By 1954, the Department of Health, Education and Welfare provided 48% of all federal support for the life sciences, approaching two-thirds of all support in biomedical sciences such as molecular biology, regulatory biology, or pathology (Consolazio and Green, 1956). The connection between many of these projects and human health became increasingly difficult to defend – and, because of its added public health mandate, NCI leadership could not simply claim they were advancing knowledge for knowledge’s sake, as could the National Science Foundation. In light of the immense national importance of health research, calls for proof of the ‘effectiveness’ of the NCI’s research activities and their relevance to the nation’s health appeared ‘inevitable’ (Bayne-Jones, 1958: 4–7).
For the NCI’s new Director, Kenneth Endicott, these were critical questions to address after he assumed office in 1960. Endicott was previously head of the NCI’s Cancer Chemotherapy National Service Center, the only part of the NCI where industrial-style organization and contracts predominated over grants – a function of both the scale and urgency instilled in this work by anticancer activists (Löwy, 1996: 41-48). In Endicott’s understanding, organizational bottlenecks, rather than intellectual challenges, were responsible for slow progress toward a cancer vaccine. The structure of both research and training the NCI adopted for virology research was too ‘permissive’. 6 Without the unpredictable initiative of individual researchers, ‘not very much would have happened’. In late 1961, he granted his Assistant Director, Carl Baker, a sweeping brief to refashion the NCI’s cancer virus research structures with the aim of realizing the goal of a vaccine.
Cancer research meets Cold War management technologies
Fatefully for his future approach to cancer virus research, Baker’s eager and wide-ranging studies of scientific management brought him into contact with the methods of systems analysis. 7 Systems analysis – a managerial cousin to cybernetics – exerted a profound impact on federal bureaucracy throughout the Cold War, most notably in budgeting and planning for aerospace engineering projects at the Department of Defense and the National Aeronautics and Space Administration. Although it traced its origins to aerospace production, it represented a different model for planning science than that offered by the industrial mass-production models that had provided inspiration for antibiotic, cancer chemotherapy or polio vaccine development – particularly in its efforts to and manage uncertainty (Carrese and Baker, 1967; Scheffler, 2019: 72–75, 113–116).
Baker’s first opportunity to apply systems planning to cancer research came when Endicott placed him in charge of restructuring the Viruses and Cancer Panel, whose efforts had been stymied by a lack of favorable developments in the laboratory. A special report for Endicott, likely prepared by Baker, promised that the discovery of a human cancer virus was imminent based on an ‘avalanche of evidence from an unprecedented number of scientific disciplines’. 8 Despite his confident assessment of the state of viral research, Baker’s planning effort struggled with the persistent absence of laboratory proof that human cancers were caused by an infectious agent.
Baker was convinced that adeptly deploying the social technologies of systems management would make human cancer viruses tractable for the administration of the NCI even as they remained elusive in the laboratory. While moving into planning might seem ‘unique or even strange’ for biomedical researchers, Baker wrote, it was ‘necessary’ to meet the challenges involved in multidisciplinary research devoted to ‘the needs of society and matters related to health’. In this effort, ‘the concepts and philosophies, the terminologies and procedures satisfactory for the description’ of contemporary biological research were ‘not suitable for describing the newer developments proposed’. 9 In this light, ‘program plans’ were intentionally agnostic on the question of particular scientific outcomes; plans were not to ‘require or involve … the detailing of specific research efforts, the establishment of priorities, the selection of the mode of operation, or the insertion of a time-frame’. Such outcomes would emerge organically as experimentation advanced toward the goal of vaccine development. The paramount advantage of program planning was that it provided ‘a mode of approach to the planning of research efforts which are oriented and focused to the achievement of the end result or product’. 10
To establish a culture more amenable to this style of planning, Baker recruited scientific managers fluent in the vocabulary of operations research, as opposed to medical research. In particular, he hired Louis Carrese, an industrial psychologist, to bring his experience as a contract systems analyst for the Department of Defense to bear on cancer research. 11 Unlike the annual cycle of research grants, Carrese explained that ‘the projection period [for contract systems analysis] should present a reasonably workable timespan (5–10 years) suitable for the framing of critical questions in research in a manner that will permit the evaluation of progress’. This was a way of discussing biomedical research that, as Carrese underscored, provided ‘the basis for action decisions – not further discussions’. 12
For these evaluations, Baker and Carrese turned to a particular species of systems analysis, the ‘Program Evaluation Review Technique’, or PERT. While systems analysis as a whole offered a budgetary framework for setting goals, it did not necessarily address the question of how to meet these goals quickly. In the late 1950s, administrators of the Polaris Missile Program – a crash effort to build a submarine-launched ballistic missile – had developed PERT in an effort to accelerate the research and development process. The construction of the missile in record time gave PERT immediate cachet in management circles (Johnson, 2000: 96–98). Its advocates praised its focus on attaining goals in a minimum amount of time for ‘new’, ‘untried’ and ‘non-routine’ activities (Evarts, 1964: 1–6).
Baker and Carrese’s study of PERT and other forms of systems analysis provided the basis of their design of a ‘convergence technique’ for planning biomedical research (Carrese and Baker, 1967). In contrast to these other schemas, which involved problems of engineering, their convergence technique was an attempt to adapt systems planning to an enterprise where ongoing, discovery-oriented inquiry formed the basis of everyday operational activities distributed across dispersed laboratories and clinics. The challenge for Baker and Carrese was in developing network-based management techniques that could integrate loosely interrelated research projects with open-ended timelines, indeterminate tasks and uncertain objectives so that through consistent long-term planning they converged upon the development of a human leukemia vaccine. The task of the SVLP was, accordingly, to plan the conditions that would lead to serendipitous findings in pursuit of a vaccine. To remain accountable to bureaucratic planning, ongoing scientific research would now have to articulate with the ambitious organizational projections embedded in the convergence chart.

Chart comparing projected vaccine development for suspected cancer viruses in animals and humans by extrapolating from previous vaccine innovation timelines. Special Virus Leukemia Program Progress Report #4, 1967.
The emphasis on time characteristic of the PERT planning process soon permeated the documents of the SVLP. One seemingly innocuous chart in an annual report of the SVLP appeared to compare the state of progress in developing a leukemia vaccine with progress in developing vaccines for other human viral diseases and viruses linked to cancer in animals. The stakes at the heart of the Programs’ virus vaccine research emerge in the powerful rhetorical argument about time and progress communicated through these bureaucratic artifacts. This chart posited eight steps through which every viral vaccine passed – from the acquisition of materials to the industrial production of the identified virus and vaccination. Moreover, the progress vector for each virus was labeled with the number of years the viruses had been studied. In mice, the identification of a leukemia virus had been followed by the development of a vaccine in fifteen years. It took 58 years to develop a polio vaccine, but only 34 to develop a measles vaccine. Human leukemia viruses had barely progressed beyond the ‘detection’ and ‘identification’ stages (itself an optimistic assertion). Most beguiling, however, were the dotted lines included with the human leukemia viruses: evidence of discoveries that were anticipated in the future. 13 These projections encapsulated not only the state of Program research to date, but also the projections of scientist-managers that vaulted well over the locally circumscribed boundaries of their immediate experimental settings.
The human cancer virus vaccine as a problem of infrastructure
Though Baker’s planning techniques may have focused on the future, their initial uses addressed the difficulties faced by NCI leadership in the present, especially securing funding for cancer vaccine research through the annual Congressional appropriations process. Endicott drew upon the climate of expectation and crisis surrounding leukemia viruses (which the NCI itself had cultivated) to organize an end-run around the normal NIH budget approval process, seeking a special appropriation from the Senate to get the SVLP started.
14
The following year, Endicott needed to justify the SVLP’s budget again. His defense of the Program revealed the rhetorical power allowed by Baker’s management techniques. The NCI, he promised, was poised to deploy a system of organization suitable for an accelerated push to develop a leukemia vaccine. Congress could not afford to delay this effort: We believe that the developments in the research areas mentioned are so important and so opportune that we must do everything possible to push forward now… we cannot await full understanding of the nature of cancer …. we have learned to work with mechanisms for a planned approach …. we await with impatience developments in the human virus area which will demonstrate that a virus is a causative factor in at least one type of human cancer. Our organization is being made ready for such a development because we know that when this happens we must exploit this lead with all possible speed.
15
The public responded to this new presentation of cancer viruses enthusiastically. LIFE magazine elaborated that in the SVLP, ‘the plans called for starting far in advance to work out the specifications, devise instruments, put up buildings, train personnel, breed animals – everything to ensure that all systems would be Go and A-OK as if for a countdown at Cape Kennedy’ (Rosenfeld, 1966: 111). Headlines such as ‘Leukemia cure near?’, ‘Hope raised for cure of leukemia’, and ‘Virus link found: Huge leukemia project pushed’ indicate the success of the NCI narrative in framing the SVLP as a response to an acute crisis as opposed to a long-term search for cancer control (Anonymous, 1964; Toth, 1964a, 1964b). Congress approved $10 million in special appropriations to fund the SVLP at its initiation, but henceforth the Program could rely upon generous support through the NCI’s regular annual appropriations. Moving forward, the task of administrators would be to sustain a climate of expectation among their Congressional patrons while they awaited positive scientific results.
The assumption that ‘at least one virus is an indispensable element … of at least one kind of human leukemia’, animated the SVLP’s operations and galvanized its supporters. 16 Yet realizing an actionable future around this hypothesis would entail fundamental transformations of the materials and routines of experimentation in the laboratory as well as decision-making and planning practices oriented toward cancer control. NCI administrators cashed in their congressional surplus to fund construction of scientific infrastructure with an aim toward realizing the SVLP’s projections. ‘In devising any experimental attack on a biological problem’, Frank Rauscher, then-SVLP scientist and future Director of the NCI, explained, ‘one is invariably faced with the need not only to design the experiment, but the need for many materials with which to conduct the experiment’. While he had initially been skeptical of the uses of program planning, Rauscher admitted, the creation of the convergence chart had convinced him that dealing with resources first was necessary, least important experiments were forced to wait ‘months, or perhaps years’. 17
NCI leadership understood the Cancer Virus Programs’ efforts as more than accelerating an inevitable scientific discovery – they were an indispensable means of creating the conditions under which human cancer viruses would emerge in experiments. The budget of the Cancer Virus Programs grew steadily, reaching 36 million dollars annually before the start of the War on Cancer in 1971 – a substantial sum for virology research. 18 This level of funding gave a select group of NCI scientist-administrators the ability to shape the whole field of cancer virology.
The first few years of Program operation interleaved the infrastructural, epistemological and ontological facets of cancer virus research. It was not reasonable to wait for a candidate human cancer virus to emerge and then focus resources on its study because the resources of the Program were essential to revealing the existence of human cancer viruses to begin with. Baker’s response to critics who questioned the ‘intellectual underpinning’ of the vaccine effort illustrates how the Program implicated infrastructure, epistemology and ontology in the success of vaccine efforts. 19 The question, Baker maintained, was not if individual investigators would find proof of human cancer viruses, but if they even had the capacity to do so. Human cancer viruses and other carcinogens, Baker explained, could only be identified through ‘greatly expanded’ search efforts. For academic scientists, Baker continued, this kind of screening work represented ‘mere data collection’ too ‘pedestrian’ to merit competitive grant funding. It fell to the NCI to handle the ‘large and complex’ logistical effort of maintaining the ‘great numbers of animals … over long periods of time’ necessary to generate statistically useful findings. These efforts, Baker concluded, would ‘not be done in the laboratories of individual investigators’. The scale of Program operations was not only a question of acceleration, it was an effort to detect experimental events that individual laboratories would invariably miss. Its ‘complex, integrated, systematic’ efforts were not only required, they were ‘overdue’. 20
Where academic investigators were unwilling to work, the NCI would create a new set of research institutions. In this effort, task-oriented contracts allowing coordination between private industry and the government were an essential tool. Testifying before Congress, Endicott explained that the NCI was ‘trying to develop … a new sort of industry to do the types of technical jobs that need to be done here’. The Department of Defense, Endicott explained, ‘reached this scale a long while ago …. a whole series of consulting laboratories … developed around the country’. 21 He was more expansive regarding his ambitions in an interview: ‘We’ll build some industries. What the Hell! We’ll build them because we’ve got to have them’. 22
This emphasis on infrastructure-building shone through in the first round of contracts issued by the SVLP, which succeeded in spending $9.9 million on 48 contracts in eight months – far faster than an equivalent amount ever could have been distributed through grants. These first contracts sought to rapidly scale up virus research in animals. One line of resource development concerned the cultivation of ‘germ-free’ populations of mice, hamsters and quails for further research – which Germfree Products Inc. of Tampa Florida promised to do for $720,335. However, the Program did not wait for infrastructure projects to issue promising results in animals. It sent $328,399 to Baylor University to use electron microscopy and other methods to reveal the presence of viruses in blood samples taken from children with leukemia at the Texas Children’s Hospital Hematology Service. Reflecting its confidence that the identification of a human leukemia virus was imminent, the largest contract the Program awarded in its first year was for $989,000 to Dow Chemical for the design of a ‘state of the art’ leukemia virus research laboratory incorporating the latest biohazard control measures. 23
The large influx of funding at Program investigators’ fingertips allowed vaccine-oriented infrastructure to flourish. The Program was willing to build research operations from nearly whole cloth. The SVLP’s interest in the epidemiological, etiological and clinical profile of viral lymphoma spurred the development of infrastructure halfway around the world – an enterprise that would have otherwise been unlikely in the late 1960s. Contracts provided a rapid means for the NCI to pursue materials and support international research seen to help its domestic aims. In one instance, the NCI built a lymphoma center and funded large-scale epidemiology studies and clinical trials to investigate the relationship between Epstein-Barr virus and Burkitt’s lymphoma in Uganda (Masnyk, 1988). Additionally, the conversion of laboratories at Fort Detrick, Maryland from studies of biological warfare to Program-directed cancer virus research in 1971 provided federal researchers with the most technologically sophisticated biohazard safety laboratories in the country. The NCI leveraged Fort Detrick’s biocontainment facilities to support the agency’s continuation of recombinant DNA research on cancer viruses during the National Academy of Science’s voluntary moratorium from 1973 to 1976 (Fredrickson, 2001: 124, 135–140). In all these instances, the NCI was able to leverage Cancer Virus Program contracts to sponsor research that could not have been conducted otherwise.
Transmuting setbacks: From vaccines to viral oncogenes
Despite these unprecedented development initiatives, the true potency of the Program revealed itself, ironically, as human cancer viruses stubbornly failed to articulate with the planning technologies of the SVLP. NCI scientists found themselves unable to proceed beyond initial Program planning stages because they were unable to detect viruses in cancer using immunological techniques, the same technology that had identified tumor, lymphoma, and leukemia viruses in dozens of other animal species. What was remarkable, however, was that the force of the planning machinery assembled by the Program made this frustration generative of further efforts. When faced with frustrating scientific findings Cancer Virus Program managers created new theories of viral carcinogenesis in service of cancer vaccination rather than abandoning this aim.
The next chapter of the Program’s research was driven by Robert Huebner, a noted virologist overseeing the Program’s expansion into solid tumor viruses as the rechristened SVCP. In 1969, Huebner presented an audacious proposal: Rather than conceding that viruses might not play a major role in human cancers, he instead theorized that a particular category of cancer viruses (RNA tumor viruses, or ‘retroviruses’) inserted genes (viral ‘oncogenes’) into cells that later caused their malignant transformation (Huebner and Todaro, 1969). Although the idea of ‘vertical transmission’ of disease by viruses through generations had been discussed before, which entailed a similar sense of heredity and infection, Huebner’s claim ran against scientific consensus because it violated molecular biologist Francis Crick’s ‘central dogma’ that information could only flow from DNA to RNA to proteins. Indeed, at the time no biochemical mechanism was known for how RNA viruses could alter the DNA of cells (Löwy and Gaudillière, 2001; Scheffler, 2019: 139–140).
Although numerous accounts have suggested that the ‘central dogma’ was never as absolute as its name suggested, Huebner’s theory diverged from other researchers in its aims of relating these viruses to the genesis and prevention of cancer. For example, future Nobel-Prize winner Howard Temin had long maintained that retroviruses had the ability to insert DNA into the genetic material of infected cells. Following questions asked by molecular biologists of the phage school of molecular biology, his focus was on the reproduction process of the retrovirus he was most familiar with – Rous Sarcoma Virus (RSV) – which oriented his understanding of the meaning of his research as well as the scientific questions to which he felt accountable (Kevles, 2008; Scheffler, 2019: 140–142).
Huebner, by contrast, arrived at his theory in an effort to reconcile the contradiction between the Cancer Virus Programs’ conviction that viruses responsible for human cancer existed and the absence of immunological evidence demonstrating this relationship. Huebner wrote, ‘a simple contradiction … needed to be solved’. To resolve this contradiction and bring experimental phenomena in line with the planning system of the SVCP, Huebner proposed the viral oncogene hypothesis as a new general explanation of cancer causation. Carefully detailing his reasoning based on the progression of experimental results the Program had produced and new developments in bacterial molecular biology, Huebner argued: “When viewed in relation to all the data, the inherited [viral] oncogene theory is the only concept which covers all the bases.’ 24 Unlike molecular biologists, Huebner’s ultimate aim was not the elucidation of a process; rather, he aimed for vaccine creation. While his speculation ran against the grain of molecular biology and biochemistry, which focused on mechanism first, it was in step with the approach that virologists and microbiologists had long taken to vaccine development. Successful vaccines were often produced in the absence of firm understanding of the molecular mechanisms whereby microbes caused disease. 25
The different stakes involved in advancing a vaccine initiative rather than fundamental knowledge, coupled with Huebner’s command over the extraordinary sum of $10 million per year, enabled the Program to forge ahead with the creation of infrastructure based on their controversial hypothesis before the scientific community endorsed the theory. 26 The Program’s resources allowed Huebner to take advantage of developments not initially within the SVCP’s remit. In 1970, both Howard Temin and MIT virologist David Baltimore produced evidence of an enzyme, reverse transcriptase, that enabled RNA to ‘reverse’ the normal process of using DNA to produce RNA. This enzyme provided biochemical justification for the heterodoxy implied by Huebner’s viral oncogene theory. 27 Although the discovery of this enzyme was not tied to the NCI Virus Cancer Programs, its rapid confirmation was. Informal connections between Baltimore and the Program allowed him to rapidly isolate the enzyme, ensuring that Temin and Baltimore announced their results simultaneously (Scheffler, 2019: 142).
Seizing upon what they viewed as validation of an important prediction developed in support of the Program’s approach, Huebner and his colleagues quickly poured millions more into contracts funding experiments on the connection between retroviruses and human and animal cancers. 28 These experiments were conducted to ensure that the viral oncogene hypothesis not only enabled the NCI to be accountable to its public mission by putting taxpayer money to good use, but also accountable to new phenomena emerging from the laboratory. Through the massive mobilization of scientific personnel and resources through contracts, the dual accountability motivating the Program’s targeted approach allowed the NCI to create experimental systems and communities that would not have been fostered within the grantmaking system.
These experimental systems enabled researchers to pursue new questions about retroviruses and the nature of cancer that had not been possible before. Even its critics could not dispute their scale. ‘If a prize were to be given for the most whip-cracking’, a Nature commentator acidly noted, retrovirus studies ‘would win hands down’. Even if it ‘prov[ed] hard to find even epidemiological evidence of human RNA cancer viruses, the SVCP will be content if its pensioners manage to manufacture them in their laboratory’ (Anonymous, 1970: 887–888).
SVCP contractors generate the cellular oncogene theory
With the hope for a cancer vaccine now resting on retroviruses, the NCI focused its infrastructure-building efforts on resources and training for molecular biological experiments that could generate knowledge about viral oncogenes. Although the unusual concentration of power and resources represented by the SVCP drew heated criticism from the academic molecular biology community, which feared that dependence on cancer research funding would distort its scientific creativity and independence, it nonetheless had major influence on the course of molecular virology (Culliton, 1973; Scheffler, 2019: 166–170; Wade, 1971; Watson, 1973). The Program’s tentacular network of contract laboratories throughout the United States provided means for the traffic of information, practices and resources among communities of researchers whose work was directed, in the provisions of their NCI contracts, to produce evidence of viral oncogenes for the eventual purpose of vaccine development.
It was in this environment that Harold Varmus and J Michael Bishop began their study of cancer viruses. Educated as doctors and then trained at the National Institutes of Health, Bishop, and Varmus entered into a robust network of NCI contractors throughout the West Coast upon assuming positions at the University of California, San Francisco (UCSF). As young scientists overwhelmingly dependent upon soft money to fund their research, Bishop and Varmus found SVCP contracts a boon for their studies on the Rous Sarcoma Virus (RSV), a retrovirus at the center of debate over the viral oncogene. By tailoring their research to ask and answer questions of urgent interest to the SVCP’s targeted efforts, Bishop and Varmus were able to rapidly accelerate the progress of their research. Unlike the months-long grant process, the NCI issued contract funds in a matter of weeks, which enabled Bishop and Varmus to quickly scale up their resources to pursue promising new experimental leads. 29 In the early 1970s, NCI contracts funded 85% of the UCSF laboratory’s RSV research. 30 Fellow West Coast SVCP contractors, with Huebner’s encouragement, circulated vital resources for conducting genetic analyzes of RSV, including strains of mutant virus that enabled detailed study of the molecular mechanisms of viral reproduction. 31
In maintaining close relationships with other NCI contractors who shared knowledge, skills and resources, Bishop and Varmus’s ever-expanding laboratory was able to respond nimbly to their fellow West Coast contractors’ proposition that src, a gene fragment of RSV, was responsible for cancerous transformations in infected cells. They drew together their prior expertise in studying RNA based viruses and the technique of DNA-DNA and RNA-DNA hybridization to develop new techniques for precisely demonstrating the presence of src in transformed cells (Scheffler, 2019: 192–193). The UCSF laboratory became the epicenter of major NCI efforts to expand the materials, skills and personnel necessary to advance molecular hybridization techniques with the eventual aim of detecting a viral oncogene and potentially arresting the process of cancerous transformation. The SVCP awarded contracts to Bishop and Varmus in the hopes that src research would both substantiate the viral oncogene hypothesis and, in illuminating the process whereby viral genes transformed cells, pave the way for cancer control. 32 It regarded the Bishop-Varmus laboratory as ‘one of the best in the Program’, tripling the laboratory’s funding from 1971 to 1974. 33
The Bishop-Varmus laboratory grew into a research unit unto itself. By 1975, VCP contracts to the laboratory sustained a veritable platoon of professors, postdoctoral researchers, graduate students and full-time technicians; purchased and maintained expensive equipment like ultracentrifuges and radioactive isotopes; and cultivated enormous quantities of RSV strains and cell cultures. 34 The scale of this work was different in kind from that of many other retrovirus researchers, who did not enjoy the economies of scale associated with studying hybridization in individual laboratories (Scheffler, 2019: 195–198).
However, the scale of work at Bishop and Varmus’s laboratory produced more than the VCP’s planners anticipated. True to the principle of differential reproduction posited by Rheinberger, the experimental systems developed in Bishop and Varmus’s laboratory with the purpose of supporting the viral oncogene hypothesis to advance the NCI’s vaccine mission produced the conditions for the emergence of very different phenomena. The basis of this productive instability lay within the calibration experiments associated with the synthesis of the src hybridization probe. This work had occupied several researchers in the Bishop and Varmus lab, and in 1974 the project passed to Dominique Stehelin, a visiting researcher from France. A successful probe would detect src in infected cells, but of course it would also not register its presence in uninfected cells. Stehelin set to work testing the src probe against both infected and uninfected chicken cells. The probe revealed src in infected cells, as predicted, but the calibration experiments also revealed that src was present in uninfected cells. This finding was deeply puzzling – after all, viral genes should not be present in cells unexposed to RSV. Solving this puzzle consumed another year and a half of the laboratory’s experimental efforts, resulting in the surprising conclusion that src was not viral, but cellular in origin – a gene chickens and other birds inherited from a common ancestor in the distant evolutionary past (Stehelin et al., 1976).
With hindsight, this finding was recognized as the beginning of the ‘oncogene paradigm’ of cancer, and Bishop and Varmus were awarded a Nobel Prize for their laboratory’s observation in 1989. The explanation of the probe’s unexpected results was theoretically exciting, and other STS scholars (Fujimura, 1996) have focused on the incorporation of evolutionary time into the interpretation of this surprising calibration result. However, this does not address the conditions which stabilized the initial observation as a meaningful event and gave it sufficient credibility to draw further study rather than being dismissed as either an error inconsistent with the viral oncogene theory or a novel result of little consequence.
At the time of the first observation in 1975 the Bishop and Varmus probe was so sophisticated that few other labs were fluent in the technique. The virus they studied had been so extensively cultivated for research that leading tumor virologists such as Temin cautioned that the mutant strains of RSV under examination were not ‘natural virus[es]. [They] do not persist in nonlaboratory populations. RSV is a laboratory creature’ (Temin, 1974: 2836). Other retrovirus studies were far slower to yield viral oncogenes, even with considerable support (Scheffler, 2019: 214–215). Like many other ‘discovery’ moments, historians of molecular biology have shown that the emergence and acceptance of the cellular ‘oncogene paradigm’ attributed to this single experiment actually took the better part of a decade (Morange, 1993).
The conditions that allowed this noise to be seen as a signal were deeply tied to the infrastructural basis of the laboratory’s work. Rouse’s insights into how scientists simultaneously articulate technical issues with broader stakes well beyond self-enclosed experimental systems illuminates how Bishop and Varmus gained the time and resources to address these concerns. This reorientation, while it appeared to contradict the organizational mandate of the NCI, could only have taken place in the Bishop and Varmus laboratory at that time due to the infrastructure to support hybridization probes that had been assembled there in the name of vaccine development.
The first reorientation regarded the probe itself. The Cancer Virus Program had thought it was sponsoring work patterned on precision immunological probes in its effort to maximize specificity and detection of a specific form of src. However, further experimental data to support src’s cellular origins came from making the probe less precise. The evolutionary relationships suggested by the 1976 paper hinged on degrees of reactivity as a proxy for degrees of evolutionary divergence. However, the 1976 paper remained rooted in variants of src in bird species because these were the closest to the specific probe created from RSV. After publication of this paper, Deborah Spector, a new postdoctoral researcher in the laboratory, used her prior experience with RNA hybridization to manipulate the concentration and composition of the salt solutions for the reactions of the src probe with cellular DNA. 35 This allowed src probe hybrids with cellular DNA of lower and lower percentages of overlap. While Spector could not say exactly what the probe hybridized with, her adjustment of the system helped fit the presence of src into an evolutionary schema which extended beyond birds to other vertebrates and even to sea urchins (Spector et al., 1978). Given the expense and labor associated with production of the src probe, these observations could only have been conducted in a laboratory with the capacity to produce large amounts of the src probe – a feature of the infrastructure of the NCI’s programs.
The second reorientation regarded the kind of question the laboratory asked using these findings. The question was no longer if viral oncogenes were linked to cancer, but what purpose these genes served in the cell and to where their origins might be traced. Both of these aims minimized the public health obligations of oncogene research. In anchoring the presence of versions of cellular src outside of bird species, the principal data in the 1976 Nature paper, Spector’s observations allowed Bishop and Varmus argue more forcefully that src was a ‘proto-oncogene’ which served some common task in cellular development rather than directly causing cancerous transformation. Writing in the second edition of The Molecular Biology of Tumor Viruses, Bishop and Varmus conceded that ‘the tools used to trace the lineages of c-onc genes [cellular proto-oncogenes] are blunt’. However, based on their data it remained a ‘reasonable guess’ that cellular oncogenes had been around for millions of years (Bishop and Varmus, 1982: 308). ‘What of the role of retroviruses in the etiology of human neoplasia?’ Bishop asked. ‘I have avoided this controversial issue … because the case at present is highly circumstantial and the attendant issues are not germane to my purposes here’ (Bishop, 1978: 88).
It appeared that the NCI’s hope of identifying a human cancer virus had been rendered remote from and incidental to the aims of molecular biologists. In the 1980s retroviral oncogenes provided the basis for identifying cellular oncogenes in many species, further bolstering an experimental research program focused on interior genetic changes rather than external infection (Vecchio, 1993). The irony of this outcome was not lost on the NCI. A group of the Program’s former champions mused that the ground appeared to have shifted beneath their feet: Scientists have completely redefined the word ‘virus’ and no longer think of a tumor virus only as a particle that enters a host cell and causes disease, a particle that can be inactivated and turned into a protective vaccine. Thus cancer causation no longer conforms to old concepts of infection and disease (Manaker et al., 1977: 631).
Ultimately, the redefinition that the NCI administrators noticed, even if it did not reflect their aims, was a testament to the generative nature of the infrastructure they had created – its accomplishment was not only in accelerating or furthering research that might have occurred by other means, nor its error in enforcing a controversial theory on the scientific community – rather it was that these came together to create the conditions for Bishop and Varmus’s work and the stabilization of their unexpected discoveries.
Conclusion: Organizing accountability
The NCI shuttered the Virus Cancer Program in 1978, just as the oncogene paradigm was in its ascent. Scientist chroniclers of cancer research and molecular biology have been quick to conjoin these events. They argue that the serendipitous, ‘revolutionary’ discovery of cellular src in Bishop and Varmus’s lab instigated the Program’s disintegration, an affair that communicated a broader lesson about how scientific creativity repudiated state planning (Weinberg, 1996). However, narratives of continuity versus revolutionary change in the scientific history of oncogenes are also works of political memory-making, with important consequences for how scholars of STS understand the relationship between knowledge production and infrastructure.
Although retrospective accounts of the oncogene theory emphasize its revolutionary rupture with theories of viral carcinogenesis, in the 1980s both critics and allies of the War on Cancer emphasized its continuity. This was due to the shared interest that both groups maintained in defending the accountability of cancer research. In the late 1970s disillusionment created by the inability of the War on Cancer to lower cancer mortality or incidence rates – a ‘medical Vietnam’ in the words of its critics – challenged the systems of accountability the NCI developed over the previous decades. On top of it all, advocates for environmental cancer research were quick to use the lack of a cancer vaccine as a reason to defund experimental cancer research writ large. In the early 1980s, the Reagan Administration sought a retrenchment of federal spending on biomedical research (Scheffler, 2019: 204–210).
However, the NCI remained the largest federal supporter of molecular biology, and even its most stringent scientist critics were cognizant that deep cuts to its budget would ripple throughout their community. Major figures in molecular biology, such as James Watson, and the leadership of the NCI, especially its new director, Vincent DeVita, sought an accommodation. The question was on what grounds both the NCI’s past actions and the future promise of molecular approaches to cancer would be legitimized. The resolution was to laud the contribution that the NCI had made to the oncogene paradigm through the Cancer Virus Programs, but to focus on the individual and serendipitous nature of the scientific discovery itself. It was unfair to think of the Programs as a failure, Watson now wrote, given the contribution they had made to the study of oncogenes. DeVita, in turn, amplified this message, insisting that by drawing scientists to the field, the NCI had contributed to the blossoming of molecular biology (DeVita, 1983). The dénouement reached between the NCI and molecular biologists succeeded in its short-term goal of salvaging the budgetary fortunes of experimental cancer research, but it also re-inscribed the split between state support and scientific knowledge production.
The split between organizational and individual scientific work reappeared in the vision of biomedical innovation embraced by the market-oriented biotechnology industry. As in other fields of neoliberal social policy, the vacuum created by the perceived ‘failure’ of the state during the War on Cancer provided opportunities for private entities to repurpose public resources for other ends (Harvey, 2005). Drawing on critiques of scientists, biotechnology’s promoters claimed that accountability had not allowed for scientific innovation. Even as biotechnology firms acknowledged the contributions of the federal government, they maintained that the freedom and flexibility offered by market-driven science was a much better fit for the individual creativity of molecular biologists rather than the stifling rigidity of government oversight (Berman, 2011; Gaudillière, 1993; Sunder, 2006; Yi, 2015). The Cancer Virus Programs would reappear in subsequent science policy discussions, such as those around the Human Genome Project, but as a cautionary tale showing the intractability of science to management, not as a model (Office of Technology Assessment, 1988).
STS scholars approaching oncogenes and the early biotechnology industry have inscribed the terms of the truce between the NCI and the academic molecular biology community – and the separate registers of state infrastructure and individual scientific choice – into their analysis of how innovation and discovery function in biotechnology (Fujimura, 1996). Yet the intimate involvement of Bishop and Varmus’s laboratory with the NCI’s Virus Cancer Program belies this easy separation.
Our paper demonstrates the significant entanglement between the NCI’s Cancer Virus Program infrastructure and the generation of the oncogene theory. Rouse (2015) draws attention to the shifting definitions of what was at stake in an organizational environment where Program scientists were held accountable to both scientific research and public health planning goals, and how together they spurred ambitious research in areas of science seldom explored outside the NCI. The first iteration of this hypothesis, proposed by Huebner and Todaro (1969), was an attempt to resolve experimental problems that were also intimately connected to a broader organizational enterprise of developing a vaccine for cancer. The direct contractual relationships between NCI scientists and academic laboratories involved in developing and revising the oncogene hypothesis shows that these innovations were not a result of superior research outside the government, but rather a mandate to make cancer virus research accountable to both the experimental issues driving cancer virus research as well as the public health stakes in the application of these findings to vaccine projects – even if they were not successful.
The terms in which we understand accountability and innovation in biomedical research remain pressing questions to this day. After a generation in which markets were saluted as the engines of biomedical innovation in vaccines, the results have been mixed (Hoyt, 2012). Grasping the organizational apparatus underlying the NCI’s Cancer Virus Programs offers a glimpse into how scientist-administrators attempt to realize their dual mandate by wedding immediate experimental practicalities with long-term planning goals. Aviles (2018) has shown that contemporary vaccine initiatives share a similar pattern of differential reproduction, whereby organizational imperatives toward translational research influence how scientists imagine the issues and stakes of their research. Closer attention to how other organizations bridge academia, industry and government will improve our understanding of how innovation emerges as a socially embedded technoscientific process rather than a series of serendipitous individual discoveries.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
We wish to thank the editors of Social Studies of Science and three anonymous reviewers for their constructive and engaged feedback, especially in the midst of trying times.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
