By Ram Aiyar, CEO of Korro Bio, as part of the From The Trenches feature of LifeSciVC
Let me tell you a secret that most biotech executives won’t admit at cocktail parties: we’re all making it up as we go along. Sure, we’ve got fancy degrees and impressive resumes, but when you’re working on a novel platform / new modality, trying to drag a molecule from a napkin sketch to a clinical trial, there’s no playbook for this specific instance.
The Evolution Problem Nobody Talks About
Here’s how every successful biotech evolves, without exception:
- Stage 1: Conception: “We have this one brilliant idea!” (Written on actual napkin)
- Stage 2: Toddler: “Look, it works in mice!” (Preclinical product)
- Stage 3: Adolescence: “Holy cow, we’re in humans!” (Single clinical product)
- Stage 4: Adulthood: “We’re a real company now!” (Multiple products, usually plus a Big Pharma collaboration)
At each stage, companies face the same temptation: let’s get involved in everything. After two decades in healthcare (plus a brief detour through tech), I’ve watched countless startups flame out not because their science was bad, but because they tried to do everything at once. It’s like being at an all-you-can-eat buffet when you’re starving—your eyes are bigger than your organizational stomach. This lack of focus isn’t just inefficient; it’s a company killer.
Three Epiphanies That Helped Shaped My Thinking
Epiphany #1: How to Win by Doing (Almost) Nothing
During my time at Janssen (J&J’s pharmaceutical arm), I witnessed something that would make most MBA professors weep into their optimization models. When J&J acquired companies, they did something radical: absolutely nothing. Well, not nothing—they provided support. But for 4-5 years, they let acquired companies run themselves like teenagers with the car keys. No forced integration. No “synergies.” No death-by-PowerPoint standardization meetings.
The result? Pure chaos, right? – Wrong.
What emerged was beautiful, decentralized decision-making by teams closest to the actual data. Yes, we had redundant systems. Yes, we had higher headcounts. Yes, our IT department had nightmares about non-harmonized databases. But we also had speed—that magical ingredient that separates biotech winners from the also-rans who are still in committee meetings discussing their committee meeting structure.
Epiphany #2: Why I’d Rather Hire the Curious Than the Credentialed
After 15 years in startups, I’ve learned something that would have horrified my younger self: the person with the perfect resume is not often the right hire.
Here’s why: When you’re developing novel biology on novel platforms with novel clinical approaches (notice a theme?), experience becomes almost irrelevant. It’s like hiring someone who’s an expert at chess to play a game that hasn’t been invented yet. We are all learning together. What works best is a team that accounts for people with experience in drug development, while at the same time having individuals with curious minds that are not held back by conventional thinking.
What you need are people who wake up at 3 AM thinking (or in a shower at 7 AM), “But what if we tried it this way?” People whose response to failure is “Fascinating!” rather than “Not my fault!” People with the intellectual curiosity of a toddler and the intensity of someone who just had three espressos. Attitude beats aptitude when you’re inventing the future.
See the following reads at Forbes and the Kindergartener versus CEOs
Epiphany #3: The Netflix Buffer Lesson
Remember dial-up internet? (If you don’t, please pretend you do so I don’t feel ancient.)
Back in graduate school, while studying network engineering, I was exposed to Queuing Theory—basically, the science of how data packets line up to be processed. It’s the difference between seamless Netflix binging and the spinning wheel of death. Here’s the kicker: biotech companies are just biological networks with the same queuing problems. When you have multiple drug candidates competing for limited resources (money, people, equipment, executive attention), you need a routing algorithm. Otherwise, everything gets stuck in buffer hell.
In platform companies with multiple assets, resource allocation isn’t just important—it’s existential. One wrong prioritization decision and your lead program stalls while your backup program burns cash. It’s like juggling, except the balls are worth $50 million each and on fire.
Enter the Focused-Team: Our Secret Weapon
So how do you solve the evolution problem, the people problem, and the resource problem simultaneously? We created something we call Focused-Teams. (Yes, the name is boring. We’re scientists, not poets). It accounts for decentralized decision making, having a cross functional set of curious individuals working closely together questioning each dogma, and finally allocating individual resources to support different teams working at different pace.
- Small, cross-functional teams (Think Ocean’s Eleven, not Ben-Hur’s army)
- Single, laser-focused goal (Not “cure cancer,” but “get compound X through IND-enabling studies by Q3”)
- 80%+ dedication (Not “I’ll squeeze this in between my other seventeen priorities”)
- Hands-on work (Everyone codes/pipettes/analyzes—no pure managers allowed)
- Minimal governance (Asking for permission is optional; asking for forgiveness is rare)
- Fixed timeline and budget (But flexible when reality laughs at your plans)
- Speed (Move fast and iterate)
This isn’t your Big Pharma compound development team where managers manage managers who manage the people doing the actual work. Our Focused Team members are the ones with their sleeves rolled up, making decisions at 7 PM on a Friday because waiting until Monday’s meeting would lose us a week. They meet in a room with a whiteboard (yes, physical presence required—Zoom doesn’t work when you need to read body language and share pizza at midnight), give them resources and a deadline, then get out of their way.
The result? Scientists who joined us to escape Big Pharma bureaucracy get to own their decisions. They fail fast, learn faster, and iterate at startup speed. Their learning trajectory looks like a hockey stick rather than a gentle corporate ladder climb.
The 3-2-1 Strategy: Our Moonshot
Earlier this year, we announced our 3-2-1 strategy:
- 3 programs in the clinic
- 2 tissue types
- 1 platform
- All by 2027
Ambitious? Sure. Impossible? We would have said yes before Focused-Teams. But now we’ve got targeted innovation teams working on platform improvements while separate teams sprint toward IND submissions. No stepping on toes. No resource wars. No death by consensus.
The Plot Twist
Here’s what nobody tells you about organizational innovation: it’s messier than your science. Focused-Teams aren’t perfect. Sometimes they move so fast they trip over each other. Sometimes the lack of governance means someone breaks something. Sometimes the intensity burns people out, if they don’t get a break or take a break. But perfect is the enemy of good and fast. In biotech, god enough and fast wins.
What Would I Tell My Younger Self when working on a novel platform/modality?
- Stop trying to control everything. Give smart people problems and resources, then disappear (and be available for advice, and support / step in when shit hits the fan).
- Hire for curiosity over credentials. You need a good mix of individuals that knows what needs to get done as well as question existing dogma
- Think like a network engineer. Your resources are packets; route them efficiently or watch everything buffer.
- Create Focus Teams. Small, empowered, fast-moving units beat large, coordinated armies every time.
- Embrace the chaos. Biotech is jazz, not classical music. Improvisation is a feature, not a bug.
We’re still iterating on this model (and always will be—evolution doesn’t stop). Some days it feels like we’re building the plane while flying it. But that’s the thing about breaking new ground in biotech: there’s no instruction manual because nobody’s been here before. If I’m still writing blogs in a few years (and haven’t been driven completely mad by oligonucleotide chemistry), I’ll let you know if this all worked out. But right now? We’re too busy developing medicines that will help patients.
Certain statements in this blog may constitute “forward-looking statements” within the meaning of the Private Securities Litigation Reform Act of 1995, as amended. Forward-looking statements include, but are not limited to, express or implied statements regarding expectations, hopes, beliefs, intentions or strategies of Korro Bio, Inc. regarding the future including, without limitation, express or implied statements regarding execution of the 3-2-1 strategy, among others. Forward-looking statements are based on current expectations and assumptions that, while considered reasonable are inherently uncertain. Nothing herein should be regarded as a representation by any person that the forward-looking statements set forth herein will be achieved or that any of the contemplated results of such forward-looking statements will be achieved.
