"We wanted to get out of what I called 19th-century drug development -- give a drug and hope it does something," says Dr. William Potter of Eli Lily in a New York Times piece by Gina Kolata (8/12/10). "What was needed was some way of seeing what was happening in the brain as Alzheimer's progressed and asking if experimental drugs could alter that progression." One problem was that no single researcher or company could do that alone, as it required tracking some 800 subjects, looking for "biomarkers" of the disease's progression, for years.

An even bigger problem was that it would require scientists to share data. "It's not science the way most of us have practiced it in our careers," says John Q. Trojanowski of the University of Pennsylvania. "But we all realized that we would never get biomarkers unless all of us parked our egos and intellectual-property noses outside the door and agreed that all of our data would be public immediately." Even if that meant that "anyone could use it, publish papers, maybe even misinterpret it and publish information that was wrong."

This collaborative approach, known as ADNI, has so far attracted "more than 3,200 downloads of the entire massive data set and almost a million downloads of the data sets containing images from brain scans." Most important, "the effort is bearing fruit with a wealth of scientific papers on the early diagnosis of Alzheimer's using methods like PET scans and tests of spinal fluid (link). More than 100 studies are under way to test drugs that might slow or stop the disease." A similar approach is now also being used to fight Parkinson's disease.

A book that says America's obesity epidemic is caused by "obesogenic" foods that may seem healthy but that will make you fat has it all wrong, reports Allysia Finley in the Wall Street Journal (8/13/10). The book is called "The New American Diet," by Stephen Perrine and Heather Hurlock. They argue that certain pesticides and plastics, otherwise known as "obesogens" (man, I love that word) are contaminating ostensibly healthy foods, like fruit and milk. The authors say these obesogens "alter our hormones and cause our bodies to store more fat."

Well, Allysia isn't buying this. First of all, she notes that the chemicals in question -- phthalates and bisphenol A (or BPA) -- have been in widespread use for more than 50 years but "obesity didn't start surging until about 1980." She also questions the supporting research, done with lab rats, and quotes biologist Randy Seeley as saying that experiments on rats "can't necessarily be extrapolated to humans."

Obesogenic concerns have already led to a temporary US ban on phthalates in children's products, as well as a Canadian ban on BPA in baby bottles. A few US states have also banned BPA and Michelle Obama's childhood obesity report" lists obseogens as a critical front in the government's battle against the bulge." Allysia counters that obesity's causes are "myriad and complex" and says that "ringing alarm bells based on insufficient and inconclusive evidence" is subverting "serious discussion of the issue."

A weeklong exhibit on the Lower East Side is showcasing the glassine packets used to sell heroin and the logos used to market them, reports Colin Moynihan in the New York Times (6/23/10). The show, called The Heroin Stamp Project, is "meant to examine the intersection of advertising and addiction and provoke questions about how society addresses dependence and disease." It is the brainchild of Pedro Mateu-Gelabert, a sociologist who "was struck by the fact that the images on the glassine envelopes served as advertisements."

Pedro first noticed the envelopes while "researching the relationship between HIV and drug use" in 2001 and has since found them around the city, in neighborhoods both rough and genteel. "Even something so forbidden, so demonized, can be branded," he says, apparently unaware of the way marketing works. The stamps "draw on a wide range of references," and feature "names like White Fang, Time Bomb and Monster Power." They sometimes "dwell on the delicate balance of mortality that accompanies their use."

Liza Vadnai, a drug counselor who helped Pedro collect the envelopes, says that many of the images are metaphors -- grim reapers and coffins, for instance -- that are meant to convey "that the heroin is so strong, so good, it might kill you." One dealer, after finding that someone had copied his stamp, issued a new one picturing a pair of revolvers. "It was to convey the message that if you continue messing with our market you will face the guns," says Pedro. The show also features about "1,800 unstamped envelopes -- the number a heavy heroin user might go through in a year ... to make the idea of addiction seem less abstract."

In diabetes, Walgreens sees a great opportunity to build customer loyalty, reports Dana Mattioli in the Wall Street Journal (6/7/10). The retailer's research shows some "4,000 new diabetes cases being diagnosed each day." It also reveals that many diabetics are "confused about managing the disease and the advice they received." In response, Walgreens "has trained 500 pharmacists to work closely with diabetes patients."

So far, Walgreens has implemented its program in eight regions and plans to roll it out "nationally by the end of 2010 ... and extend similar services to customers with asthma and hypertension." Colin Watts, the chief innovation officer for Walgreens, comments: "We think we'll see a stronger degree of patient loyalty, and we want to get a bigger share of the patient wallet."

American Express is also investing in better customer service by "getting call-center agents to focus less on resolving calls quickly and more on building customer loyalty." Instead of answering the phone with "Thank you for calling," reps instead say "How is your day going?" Yes, it's all a prelude to a sales pitch. As Tina Waters of Comcast explains: "Our primary focus has been on ensuring that we're delivering superior customer service and that clears the way for us to be able to up-sell."

Dr. Rex Jung says that creativity is slower than intelligence, reports Patricia Cohen in the New York Times (5/8/10). Rex and his team at the department of neurosurgery at the University of New Mexico are "doing the first systematic research on the neurology of the creative process, including its relationship to personality and intelligence." This research is premised on a definition of creativity as "the ability to combine novelty and usefulness in a particular social context."

In one study of 65 people, Rex and his team found "that creativity prefers to take a slower, more meandering path than intelligence." He explains: "The brain appears to be an efficient superhighway that gets you from Point A to Point B ... But in the regions of the brain related to creativity, there appears to be lots of little side roads with interesting detours, and meandering little byways." Rex's research also found that "subjects who tested high in creativity had thinner white matter and connecting axons that have the effect of slowing nerve traffic in the brain."

He supposes that this "might allow for the linkage of more disparate ideas, more novelty and more creativity." However, Dr. John Kounios of Drexel University, thinks Rex is too fixated on studying just one part of the brain. "Creativity is a collection of different processes that work in different areas of the brain," he says. And then there's Dr. John Gabrieli of M.I.T., who thinks lab studies can't capture creativity. "It seems that to be creative is to be something we don't have a test for," he says.

David Shenk suggests that getting more out of our brains is largely a matter of thinking about genius differently, reports Annie Murphy Paul in the New York Times (3/21/10). Our assumption about genius is that it's something you either have or you don't, either you're born brilliant or you're not. But David, author of The Genius in All of Us, says the issue "isn't our inadequate genetic assets."

He says it's "our inability, so far, to tap into what we already have ... that few of us know our true limits, that the vast majority of us have not even come close to tapping what scientists call our 'unactualized potential'." He argues: "Genes are constantly activated and deactivated by environmental stimuli, nutrition, hormones, nerve impulses and other genes." As evidence, he cites a research study showing it is possible to "train an ordinary person to perform extraordinary feats of memory."

The secret is discipline, and David suggests it is more extraordinary discipline than innate talent that explains genius-level achievements, using Beethoven, who re-wrote "60 to 70 drafts of a single phrase of music" as an example. (I don't know ... that sounds like some kind of disorder to me). But the insight here is that we should "think of talent not as a thing, but as a process; not as something we have, but as something we do."

Contestants win no money and are not timed, but everyone who runs the Tough Mudder race gets an orange headband and a story to tell, reports John Branch in the New York Times (4/28/10). The Tough Mudder's seven-mile course features "long slogs up ski slopes, wades through mud bogs, crawls through corrugated pipes and under barbed wire, climbs over vertical walls, traverses on rope bridges and a drop from a plank into a cold pond. The finish line is through a ring of fire -- next to the free beer, near the live band."

Tough Mudder attracted some 4,500 participants who paid $100 each to play recently at Bear Creek Mountain, near Allentown, PA. Its creator, Will Dean, came up with the concept while a student at Harvard Business School, where his business plan for it was a semi-finalist in the school's annual business-plan contest. The main idea, says Will, is the experience itself. "The thing I really disliked about triathlons and marathons was that the only real arbiter of how well you did was your time ... Here, you can ask, 'What did you think of the burning obstacle'?"

The concept isn't entirely original, however -- it's based on the Grim Challenge in the Britain and the Strongman Run in Germany. But it seems to appeal to "athletes who do not take themselves too seriously." Will's marketing plan consisted of "little more than $8,000 worth of Facebook advertising and a website." The response was slow at first, but as word spread, the floodgates opened, with the 4,500 participants coming from 37 states, but mostly Pennsylvania, New Jersey and New York. Plans are now in the works for more Tough Mudders in Northern California and Englishtown, N.J.

Scott Jurek is "an accomplished ultramarathoner" who consumes "no animal products," reports Mark Bittman in the New York Times (5/13/10). "Accomplished" means "he holds the fifth-, sixth- and eighth-fastest times in race history" in the Spartathon, a "153-mile course between Athens and Sparta." Consuming "no animal products" means that Scott is a vegan. He eats lots Greek salads "with cucumbers, tomatoes, loads of olives and seaweed," for instance. But absolutely no meat or dairy products.

Such a diet would seem to put Scott at a disadvantage, but he doesn't think so. "The whole issue," says Scott, "is ... getting enough calories. The first thing to worry about isn't so much what you eat, but how much you eat. You have to take the time to sit at the table and make sure your calorie count is high enough. And when you're a vegan, to increase your calories as you increase training you need more food. This isn't an elimination diet but an inclusion diet." He also eats verrrry slooowwly. "None of this is weird," he insists.

"If you go back 300 or 400 years, meat was reserved for special occasions, and those people were working hard," says Scott. "Remember, almost every long-distance runner turns into a vegan while they're racing anyway -- you can't digest fat or protein very well." Scott grew up in the Midwest, on a meat-and-potatoes diet, and his transition to veganism was gradual. "It's really a mental barrier," he says. "All I need is a high-carbohydrate diet with enough protein and fat." Scott just completed the 24-Hour Run in France, where the winner runs the most miles in 24 hours (results here).

"High-fructose corn syrup is a case of mistaken identity," says Audrae Erickson of the Corn Refiners Association in a New York Times piece by Melanie Warner (5/2/10). "We're really focused on trying to correct the record since a lot of information consumers have is incorrect," she says. That information is centered on the belief that high-fructose corn syrup is somehow more fattening than an equal dose of sugar. The science actually supports Audrae's position.

There is a Princeton University study that "found that rats that gulped lots of drinks with high-fructose corn syrup gained more weight than those that had sugar, even when their overall caloric intake was the same." But the scientific evidence is that both sugar and corn syrup "are made up of roughly equal amounts of glucose and fructose" and have the same effect on weight gain. Even Marion Nestle agrees.

That hasn't stopped consumers from starting an anti-syrup protest page on Facebook (link) and complaining enough to Hunt's to get the ketchup brand to switch from syrup to sugar. Even though sugar is more expensive, Hunt's figures the switch will result a sales boost. Audrae is responding to all of this by asking the F.D.A. to permit a name change simply to "corn syrup" as well as a marketing campaign. This may be a losing battle in America, but fortunately for Audrae, consumption of the cheaper corn syrup is "up by a whopping 50 percent" in Mexico, offsetting American declines.

"Sometimes it feels like it's not even jail," says Juan Carlos Kennedy, an inmate at the Sebastian County Jail in Arkansas, reports Stephanie Simon in the Wall Street Journal (4/27/10). He adds: "Jail's supposed to be water and bread." Instead, Juan Carlos has enjoyed about $1,000 worth of junk food, bought and paid for online at iCare dot-com by his loving sister, and delivered to his prison cell by Aramark, the food services giant. His favorite is the "Meaty Big n Beefy box, loaded with cheese and spicy sausage."

Such deliveries, offered by Aramark since 2006, is both comforting to inmates and lucrative for the prisons: "In San Antonio, Texas, the Bexar County jail projects its revenues could hit $500,000," for instance. Some wardens also think the food makes life easier for them. "Jails are always run better when your inmates are happy," says Capt. Richard Fisher of the Rock Island County, Ill., prison. But opponents say the food is unhealthy and could create medical bills that ultimately taxpayers will have to cover.

Inmate John Ash admits that he's gained ten pounds in recent months in part because his nine-year-old daughter sends him chocolates. Others simply think criminals should not be coddled. "Instead of calling it a jail, let's call it the Hilton," cracks Sheriff Joe Arpaio, who prefers to punish prisoners with "a brick-hard concoction made from blending together dry milk, vegetables and bread dough." But Edwin G. Buss of the Indiana Department of Correction likes the program. "We have to be creative in tough fiscal times," he says. Indiana prisons are "on track to make more than $2 million this year ... from the service."