Meet the millionaire finance bro under attack for raising a cancer drug’s price by 5,000%
Today’s New York Times carries a blood-boiling story about Turing Pharmaceuticals, a young startup that acquired Daraprim, a critical drug used to treat parasitic infections in cancer and AIDS patients—among others with compromised immune systems—and immediately raised the price of the drug from $13.50 to $750 per pill. (A more than 5,000% increase!) The steep price hike for Daraprim, the Times found, has brought the the annual cost of treating these diseases “to hundreds of thousands of dollars” for some patients, and put the drug out of reach of some hospitals in low-income neighborhoods. According to medical experts quoted by the Times, there’s no change in what the drug does, or how it works—the increase in price is simply attributable to Turing’s desire to make more money.
(Update: Following a backlash, Turing CEO Martin Shkreli has apparently reversed his decision to hike the price of Daraprim to $750 per pill.)
The man at the center of the Daraprim fiasco is Turing’s founder and CEO, a 32-year-old former hedge fund manager named Martin Shkreli. Shkreli is not a stranger to controversy. In fact, a closer look at his investing career reveals a brash, hyper-ambitious finance bro who quotes the Wu-Tang Clan, bashes his enemies on Twitter, and will seemingly do almost anything to get rich.
According to a 2014 Bloomberg Businessweek profile, Shkreli began his Wall Street career as a 17-year-old intern for CNBC’s Jim Cramer, where he impressed the boss by recommending a savvy short trade, betting that the price of a biotech stock would fall. (Maybe too savvy—the SEC would later investigate whether he’d made the bet based on inside information, although the agency never pursued any formal actions.)
After his stint with Cramer, Shkreli then opened up his own hedge fund, and began betting against biotech and pharmaceutical companies, a practice known as short-selling. He often accompanied his bets with scathing blog posts on financial blogs like SeekingAlpha, accusing the companies he was shorting of having major problems. This behavior led to his public scolding from groups like Citizens for Responsibility and Ethics in Washington, which accused Shkreli of “spreading unfounded and inaccurate rumors about drugs owned by companies he was shorting” in order to increase the value of his short positions. (The group urged the Department of Justice to investigate Shkreli; no charges were ever filed.)
Following the implosion of his hedge funds, Shkreli styled himself as a pharmaceutical expert and started a company called Retrophin, which specialized in buying up the rights to little-known drugs and jacking up their prices. For one drug, Thiola, which treats a rare kidney disease, Retrophin hiked the price by 2,000%.