Sherman Murders: You'll Have it All
The opening chapters of a draft autobiography sit amid the hundreds of pill bottles and mound of legal documents in Bernard C. Sherman’s office.
So begins a summer 2006 New York Times profile on Barry Sherman. Written over ten years prior to his murder, the article focuses on Sherman’s on-the-go drug patent dispute over Plavix and his documentation of related pharmaceutical industry history in Canada. It is a very insightful piece as to the inner workings of this case’s presumed central character.
The article foreshadows a memoir that sadly would not come to terms with completion. “But what promises to be the book’s most riveting chapter is still unfolding. It is the part where Mr. Sherman seemingly outsmarts two big drug companies, Bristol-Myers Squibb and Sanofi-Aventis, to market the first generic form of the big-selling drug Plavix five years before its patent expires. And it could conceivably end with someone in jail.”
The most riveting chapter, as the memoir was left anyway, is the first chapter, there is little doubt in my mind. But on Sherman’s ability to outsmart, the Times writer was correct. I’ve done some other academic deep diving on Sherman for background research and this whole idea of him being a wearer of many hats is true. I write on one memorable case but the one detailed by the NYT is congruent with the rest of the stories.
In essence, here he made a deal with a brand company including bells and whistles for his side, bells and whistles that would survive the deal being rejected by the government, a conclusion Sherman had already drawn himself.
Sherman’s great gift was that of pure intellect and logic. It wasn’t merely in drug development, or chemistry, or law, or even physics, as these are all mere applications of the former gifts. As well, the generic drug business itself seems almost incidental as a venture in some sense. Sherman talks about being lost with regard to career direction in the interview, but elsewhere it has come to light that he had been attached to the idea of entering business since at least the early years of his adult life. It’s sometimes forgotten that his formal educational training was in the physical sciences and engineering, but not chemistry, and certainly not law. Despite how unusual it was, Sherman would learn to master all of them and more.
The times captured an interesting quip from Sherman in light of some of the patent dispute successes he was enjoying at the time. “I don’t even know what I’m worth,” Mr. Sherman said. “It’s a private company.’’ But he added with a wry smile: “It’s worth more today than it was last week. I can tell you that.”
There is a theme that emerges with Sherman and you realize it the deeper into the weeds you wander. Much has been written about this sort of tough business attitude persona, this emotionally unavailable CEO-type. But as reflected in the Times piece, he was in no way friends with the brand name companies or Big Pharma, despite any agreements he held with them. His existence in the drug industry ensured that he was nearly always at war with Big Pharma - that was the point. At the end of the day, he earnestly seemed intent on outsmarting his competitors, sure, but he also seemed very intent on trying to commit to an ideal rooted in more than money.
The press fights over the years substantiate a drive to grow and expand, no doubt. Beyond philanthropy more formally, he demonstrated a certain ethic even when it was relatively tough to do so. His ultimately being vindicated on a hotly disputed drug development case involving a prominent Canadian physician researcher in the 1900’s comes to mind. Sherman was fixated on bringing the drug to market amidst a fury of bad press, and with no expected monetary return on the horizon. The ultimate vindication he won is probably best viewed in relation to how he had set up his company. Private control allowed him to make such relatively estranged decisions that ran counter to his adviser’s judgement and as well to the money-hungry sentiment most executives in the drug industry come by earnestly.
Sherman writes in his own unfinished memoir that wealth, in actuality, did not come with obligation. He obviously set a higher bar for himself in this way, but again the correct read here is more on a principle or ethic having been at play in a serious way.
He was not naïve when it came to public perception, however, once stating “If we're thieves, we're Robin Hoods.”
That raises an important reflection when it comes to the investigation itself - whatever dispute did lead to the killings, was Sherman even aware of it? He obviously was unaware of his planned murder, but the issue or problem or friction that specifically led to this outcome - was he aware of it in earnest?
What I mean to say is that Sherman was a known commodity to those around him. With some exceptions, his impulse to challenge, and to fight, if he thought himself correct, would be hard to actually match in commitment and energy. He saw a lot of cases through, and sometimes it didn’t seem to make great sense as to why. That is until you pay attention to the possibility of something being on principle. It’s not a code or ideal that everyone will identify with, especially if it comes with any inconvenience, but understanding this about Barry Sherman, this incapacity to give in, seems important if you’re curious about who actually killed him.
In his personally penned letter to multiple US Senators, outlined in the NYT article, we get a more direct and somehow perfect glimpse into how he conducted business, law and yes, politics, too. “Before turning to the essential point of this letter, I must comment on the well-publicized perception that Apotex has entered into an anticompetitive settlement with Sanofi/BMS concerning clopidogrel (Plavix). That perception is incorrect. Apotex has negotiated only to remove barriers to immediate launch. To achieve that objective, we entered into a somewhat bizarre arrangement that will enable immediate launch, if and when F.T.C. refuses to approve a settlement.”
Reflecting on the memoir atop his desk, amidst all the pill bottles, Sherman commits to telling the story behind Plavix and everything else. “In due course, you’ll have it all”, he tells the Times.
Of course, so far as we know, the memoir was left unfinished. Just like so many years prior, the call to business and to Apotex seemed to take priority.
We try to bring some of that unfinished memoir to life. And trust me when I say, the drug stuff is less interesting than the philosophy - another domain of expertise Sherman wandered into with ease.
A lot more to come.
Post-script
I’ve been reading a considerable amount around staging in the forensic science and pathology sense. There is both lots and nothing to talk about. The science here, or pattern analysis, if you will, has been somewhat interesting to apply to the Sherman murders. More to come on that next time, and importantly, what the best science might say about likelihoods, starting from the fact of the staging itself, in its own right.
Post-postscript
The timing of the Times article is suspicious to me (2006). The unfinished memoir (written in 1996) seems so current, the way its talked about in the article. One must recall that the public memoir is only public because of a legal discovery process. He may have penned more after that…