BCM's Center for Precision Medicine Models has received funding that will allow it to study more complex diseases. Photo via Getty Images

Baylor College of Medicine’s Center for Precision Medicine Models received a $10 million, five-year grant from the National Institutes of Health last month that will allow it to continue its work studying rare genetic diseases.

The Center for Precision Medicine Models creates customized cell, fly and mouse models that mimic specific genetic variations found in patients, helping scientists to better understand how genetic changes cause disease and explore potential treatments.

The center was originally funded by an NIH grant, and its models have contributed to the discovery of several new rare disease genes and new symptoms caused by known disease genes. It hosts an online portal that allows physicians, families and advocacy groups to nominate genetic variants or rare diseases that need further investigation or new treatments.

Since its founding in 2020, it has received 156 disease/variant nominations, accepted 63 for modeling and produced more than 200 precision models, according to Baylor.

The center plans to use the latest round of funding to bring together more experts in rare disease research, animal modeling and bioinformatics, and to expand its focus and model more complex diseases.

Dr. Jason Heaney, associate professor in the Department of Molecular and Human Genetics at BCM, serves as the lead principal investigator of the center.

“The Department of Molecular and Human Genetics is uniquely equipped to bring together the diverse expertise needed to connect clinical human genetics, animal research and advanced bioinformatics tools,” Heaney added in the release. “This integration allows us to drive personalized medicine forward using precision animal models and to turn those discoveries into better care for patients.”

Rebecca Vaught started her biotech company just ahead of COVID-19, but she shares on the Houston Innovators Podcast that it's meant more opportunities than challenges. Photo courtesy of Van Heron Labs

Entrepreneur hopes to bring microbiology into the future with her Houston-based, pandemic-founded startup

HOUSTON INNOVATORS PODCAST EPISODE 40

While startups everywhere are struggling to adapt in the tumultuous times of COVID-19, Rebecca Vaught and her company, having launched just ahead of the pandemic, don't actually know any other way of existing.

After watching some of her friends thrive in Houston's life science ecosystem, she knew Houston was the place she wanted to start the company that she'd been envisioning and plotting for years. She took a chance on the city, moved in, and began Enventure's Biodesign accelerator. The program shutdown as COVID-19 spread, much like other programs, but Vaught wasn't going to let that stop her momentum.

"A lot of people probably would have seen that as the stopping point but that was actually the beginning of the company," Vaught says on the Houston Innovators Podcast. "What it allowed us to do was actually establish the lab and do the hard work."

As Vaught says, the biotech company, Van Heron Labs, is what it is thanks to the pandemic — not just in spite of it.

"While it's been challenging, the pandemic — in a lot of ways — is the only thing we've ever known and it's a lot of reason why the company has taken off and been successful," Vaught says on the show.

She runs the company with co-founder Alec Santiago and a team of 17 interns — all located across the country. Vaught herself is currently residing in Huntsville, Alabama, after struggling to find lab space in Houston. However, the relocation has been a blessing in disguise.

"Both ecosystems are extremely unique and both bring something different to the table," she says. "My next mission, through my lived experience, is igniting or uniting the Houston and Huntsville biotech ecosystems."

On the episode, Vaught explains how the two cities — each representing key parts of space exploration history and burgeoning tech scene — complement each other. She also shares her plans for growth and the need to bring microbiology into the future.

Listen to the full interview below — or wherever you get your podcasts — and subscribe for weekly episodes.


Pheramor takes users' DNA and social media habits and matches them with compatible partners. Courtesy of Pheramor

Houston DNA-based dating app expands nationwide, launches next funding round

From swiping to swabbing

Houston singles can find their perfect match — even if it's someone across the country. Houston-based Pheramor — a DNA-based dating app — is available for download in every state.

Brittany Barreto, Pheramor's co-founder and CEO, has a PhD in genetics from Baylor College of Medicine. She first had the idea in a genetics seminar when she was 18 and in college, but that was almost 10 years ago, and the market wasn't ready. Now, she says singles have swipe fatigue from the existing and ineffective dating apps, and it's also relatively normal now to send your spit in the mail thanks to 23AndMe.

Pheramor users download the app and request a test kit. After a few cheek swabs, they send it back to Barreto and her team and they identify 11 immune system genes and upload the data to the user's profile. The app then compares the genes to other users to give a compatibility score.

"The science behind attraction based on your DNA is that people are attracted to one another when their immune systems are different — opposites attract is biologically true," Barreto says. "When we were cavewomen and cavemen, we didn't know who was our uncle and who was our cousin, so we used our nose to figure out who is genetically diverse compared to us. If you're genetically diverse, then you're probably not my relative, and therefore we'd have healthier children."

Pheramor also calculates a social score based on a questionnaire or a data mine of a user's social media. The overall compatibility score uses both the DNA and social compatibility scores.

The app launched in Houston in March to a great reception of local singles, but, a few months later, Barreto realized nothing was holding them back from expanding nationwide.

"We surveyed our user base and asked them if they had highly compatible numbers with someone in, say, Chicago, would they want to know," Barreto says. "And something like 89 percent said yes."

Pheramor users are usually between 28 and 38, have good paying jobs, and are seeing commitment, Barreto says. Most of them travel around a lot already.

"We opened it up on September 7, and in 30 days we saw over 50 percent growth in our user base."

The company has zeroed in on a few key metros where advertising dollars go a long way for generating user downloads; Boston, New York, San Francisco, Los Angeles, and Miami have all been great markets for Pheramor.

With the user base growing, Barreto is focused on growing her team. Pheramor's current round of funding launched November 1, and with the capital raised, she hopes to be able to make the team's CFO and chief marketing officer both full time.

Pheramor is also working on using its custom algorithm as a resource to other existing dating services worldwide as well as for couples who want to see their compatibility score with their current partners.

"A long-term goal that's coming to fruition a lot faster than I thought is Pheramor being a leader in genetic testing for romance," Barreto says.

Science of love

Karla Martin/Pheramor

Pheramor CEO and co-founder, Brittany Barreto, first thought of a DNA-based dating company when she was in undergraduate student studying biology. The idea stuck with her as she went through her genetics doctoral program at Baylor College of Medicine.

Ad Placement 300x100
Ad Placement 300x600

CultureMap Emails are Awesome

Baylor College of Medicine launches VC fund to invest in biotech startups

fresh funding

Houston’s Baylor College of Medicine just unveiled a new venture capital fund that backs early-stage biotech startups—and it’s already made its first investment.

BCM Legacy Fund I, funded by philanthropies, invested an undisclosed amount in Houston biotech startup Nemea Therapeutics. Nemea, a spinout of the Baylor College of Medicine and Germany’s Lead Discovery Center, is developing an oral drug to treat metastatic triple-negative breast cancer that no longer responds to currently available therapies.

This type of aggressive cancer spreads from the breast to other areas of the body, such as the bones, liver, lungs or brain. Roughly 38,000 to 57,000 Americans are diagnosed each year with metastatic triple-negative breast cancer. One study showed about half of patients survive past the one-year mark following diagnosis and about one-third survive two years.

“Baylor College of Medicine’s laboratories produce discoveries with the potential to change patients’ lives, and too many of them stall where academic funding ends and private investment has not yet begun,” Dr. Jakub Tolar, president, CEO and executive dean of the Baylor College of Medicine, said in a press release. “The BCM Legacy Fund fills that gap, giving our scientists a path to advance their discoveries to patients.”

The National Institutes of Health awards more than $36 billion per year for biomedical research in the U.S., Baylor said. But some biomedical discoveries “never leave the starting line because they don’t yet fit the economics of venture capital,” the college said.

“The forefront of a new model”

The BCM Legacy Fund aggregates philanthropic capital from private foundations and donor-advised funds. It then invests in startups so they can move beyond that starting line and into later-stage investment rounds. The Greater Houston Community Foundation is the fund’s philanthropic partner.

“It’s exciting to be on the forefront of a new model for philanthropic capital,” said Houston entrepreneur and investor Burton Hanson, managing partner of the fund.

“Not only do we hope to solve a real problem by advancing these therapies to the patients who need them most, but we also hope this model will inspire others in the city and beyond toward philanthropic creativity and a posture of ‘I sacrifice; we win.’”

The fund expects to invest in about 15 early-stage startups over a five-year span. Baylor declined to divulge the amount of money in the fund and the size of the investment in Nemea.

Nemea’s “world-class chemistry”

Hanson oversees the Baylor fund alongside Chicago investor Steve Lehmann, who led the University of Chicago’s Innovation Fund.

Lehmann said Nemea, the fund’s first portfolio company, “has world-class chemistry, Baylor biology, and patients with no good options. Our job is to fund the experiments that carry it to the next handoff, so that industry and later-stage investors can take it from there.”

Based at Houston’s massive Texas Medical Center, Nemea plans to start clinical trials next year in collaboration with Baylor’s Lester and Sue Smith Breast Center.

Nemea previously received $9 million from the Lead Discovery Center and a $1.6 million grant from Baylor. Last year, the startup said it was seeking $25 million to $30 million in seed and Series A funding.

Debra McCoy of Houston, a former managing director at BlackRock and former partner at Bain & Co., and Paul Thomas, co-founder and CEO of Spring-based benefits manager Luscinia Health, sit on the Baylor fund’s governing board. Dr. Paul Klotman, former president, CEO and executive dean of Baylor, is a senior strategic adviser.

How does the fund find investment targets?

The Baylor Legacy Fund relies on two tools to help unearth early-stage biotech startups:

  • High-resolution “innovation maps” of research institutions. These maps surface hidden clusters of innovation, identify rising-star researchers and tie pockets of “innovation supply” at Baylor to areas of “innovation demand” in biotech.
  • AI-enhanced due diligence. AI agents assist with due diligence of early-stage biotech startups. The fund says the platform “distills the frameworks we’ve developed over a decade of teaching and investing into a flexible … diligence environment.”

MD Anderson unveils $3.4B expansion with two new Houston cancer care facilities

major expansion

The cutting edge of cancer-fighting technology and science is getting even sharper after MD Anderson announced last week that it will open two new facilities in the Texas Medical Center within the next five years. Inspiration Tower and Prism will expand MD Anderson’s annual patient load in the TMC to 250,000 annually and will incorporate a variety of new techniques.

The $3.4 billion project will add 2 million square feet to MD Anderson's TMC footprint, bringing its total campus size to 22 million square feet by 2032. Located at the corner of Fannin Street and Holcombe Boulevard, the cancer center says the two new facilities will serve as its new "front door" to the TMC.

“Every detail of these buildings, from the technology to the treatment rooms, was designed around our patients who will receive their care in them and our employees who will work in them. The facilities will serve as a physical representation of hope for the patients and their families who will walk through the doors,” Dr. Jeffrey E. Lee, president ad interim of UT MD Anderson, said in a news release. “Inspiration Tower and Prism are the future of cancer care, and we are grateful for the longstanding support and guidance we’ve received from the UT System Board of Regents to bring these projects to life. These facilities are part of the most impactful capital expansion in UT MD Anderson’s history.”

Prism is especially exciting as it will represent fully half of the linear accelerator treatment in the TMC. Linear accelerator is a radiation treatment that uses magnetically charged fields to deliver targeted external radiation therapy, like shooting cancer with a rail gun. The treatment is safer and has fewer side effects than older radiation treatments.

In addition, Prism will contain 12 MRI machines, four CT scanners, two PET-CT units, 18 radiation vaults and seven radiation simulators. Patient comfort has also been put at a premium with multiple gardens and roof overlooks.

“Every patient we treat deserves an environment that reflects the excellence of the care they receive at UT MD Anderson,” Chris McKee, executive vice president and chief strategy officer at UT MD Anderson, added in the release. “Our new facilities will be innovative, agile, adaptable and beautiful, and they will allow us to care for more patients, more effectively – in an environment that enhances healing and well-being. We are building for our future and for every patient who will be counting on us.”

Prism is slated to open in 2030.

Inspiration Tower will have 25 floors of surgical, diagnostic, and treatment services. At 1.4 million square feet, it’s currently expected to be the largest cancer-specific treatment facility in the United States. The tower will be divided into units for specific types of cancer, making it easy to integrate the advancing research being done all over Houston.

Like Prism, Inspiration Tower is specifically designed to offer comfort and reassurance, with more garden space, terraces, and beautiful scenery to ease patient distress. It is expected to open in 2032.

Tesla will pull the plug on Cybertruck production at Texas factory in 2027

Tesla Talk

Tesla’s Cybertruck, the hulking, stainless-steel pickup that inspired devotion and derision with its science-fiction looks, will cease production next year.

CEO Elon Musk announced the model’s demise Friday, November 6, with a curt post on X, his social media site, simply noting production of the vehicle “will be winding down” around the middle of 2027 at its facility outside Austin, Texas. Musk said the move was to allow increased production of its Cybercab robotaxi.

For the Cybertruck, a pet project of Musk who insisted it was Tesla’s best product, it marks an unceremonious end to one of the auto industry’s most ballyhooed debuts.

“Few vehicles in history have generated as much attention,” said Armen Hareyan, whose Torque News site covers autos. “The Cybertruck became a cultural symbol – loved, mocked and impossible to ignore.”

The Cybertruck rolled onto the scene in a dramatic unveiling in 2019, when a Tesla designer hurled a metal ball at the vehicle to demonstrate its supposedly unbreakable glass, only to see it shatter. He repeated the stunt on another window of the truck only to shatter that one, too.

Even as some critics scoffed, Musk was steadfast.

“I just wanted to make a futuristic battle tank — something that looks like it could come out of ‘Blade Runner’ or ‘Aliens’ or something like that but was also highly functional,” he told Automotive News. He called it “a better sports car than a Porsche 911” and “a better truck than an F-150.”

It struck some as the perfect vehicular reflection of the brash, convention-busting Musk.

“A really controversial vehicle unveiled by a controversial individual into a market where none of the electric trucks have been able to really capture demand,” said Spencer Penn, a former Tesla executive who left the company before the Cybertruck’s launch and now heads software developer LightSource.

Penn remembered watching the unveiling and feeling initially revolted by the sight of the Cybertruck, calling its appearance “madness.” But the more he looked at it, the more his opinion changed. He signed up for a pre-sale reservation, though ended up not getting a Cybertruck when Musk’s promises of a price tag under $40,000 went unmet and the first trucks sold for double or more. Penn called the Cybertruck part of Tesla’s adventurous spirit that drives innovation.

“Some of these bets work and some of these bets don’t,” he said.

While the decision to end Cybertruck production may be driven by sales realities, it's also a reflection of Tesla’s shift to autonomous vehicles, on which Musk is betting the company’s future.

Musk once forecast he’d make 250,000 Cybertrucks a year. Kelley Blue Book estimated Tesla sold just 20,237 of the vehicles last year, down about half from the year prior. Sales through the end of September this year were down another 28%, according to Kelley Blue Book.

If the imposing, sharp-angled, dystopian appearance of the Cybertruck weren’t enough to turn many potential buyers away, Musk did so himself by allying with a panoply of right-wing figures, most notably U.S. President Donald Trump. He alienated some customers as his image morphed from eccentric innovator to polarizing force trading his billions for political influence.

Once-passionate Tesla drivers rushed to sell off their cars, or slapped stickers on the bumper declaring, “I bought this before Elon went crazy.” Organizers staged demonstrations outside Tesla showrooms and urged investors to dump shares of the company’s stock. Anger spilled into violence, with Molotov cocktails hurled at Tesla vehicles, charging stations set ablaze, and dealerships covered in graffiti.

Lovers of the Cybertruck became targets, too, subjected to shouts of “Nazi!” and extended middle fingers.

Ross Blankenship is one of them. When he first laid eyes on the Cybertruck, he felt transported to a world from his childhood, when he would play “Halo,” the sci-fi video game. He had to have it.

“I had that sort of child in me wanting to be part of something cool that would change the future of automotive,” Blankenship said in a call from his Cybertruck as he drove through Sunnyside, Colorado. Even as Blankenship found he agreed with Musk on politics, he hated seeing a vehicle he loved turned into a political symbol. “I never bought it for any other reason than the fascination with the future technology of trucks … so that was a little heartbreaking.”

He would buy another Cybertruck again in a heartbeat, calling its end “a sad moment.”