

Sen. Ron Johnson is launching a formal investigation into why the FDA keeps rejecting rare disease drugs, calling the agency's demands for new trials "bureaucratic idiocy." With 23 rare disease therapies rejected since 2025 and families staging symbolic funerals outside FDA headquarters, the fight over how we approve drugs for the smallest patient populations is turning into one of biotech's biggest political battles.
Imagine your child has a disease so rare that fewer than 300 people on the planet share the diagnosis. A drug exists that might help. But the FDA says the evidence isn't good enough, and it wants another clinical trial that could take years. Years your child may not have.
That's the reality facing hundreds of families right now. And one powerful senator just decided he's had enough.
Sen. Ron Johnson (R-Wisconsin), chair of the Senate Permanent Subcommittee on Investigations, has launched a formal probe into why the FDA keeps rejecting drugs for rare diseases. He's demanding copies of the agency's complete response letters (the official documents explaining why a drug was turned down) and has floated the idea of hauling FDA Commissioner Marty Makary before his committee to testify.
Johnson isn't being subtle about his feelings, either. He's called the FDA's demands for additional trials on rare disease therapies "bureaucratic idiocy." He's described some of the agency's objections as "nitpicky things." And he's planning a press conference with families who are losing access to treatments right now.
This isn't a polite letter. It's a political grenade.
Johnson's investigation zeroes in on three high-profile rejections that have become rallying cries for the rare disease community.
First: Biohaven's troriluzole for spinocerebellar ataxia (SCA), a degenerative brain disease that slowly robs patients of their ability to walk, speak, and swallow. The FDA rejected it in November despite ataxia specialists reporting the drug was helping their patients.
Second: PTC Therapeutics' Translarna for a form of Duchenne muscular dystrophy (DMD), a devastating muscle-wasting condition that primarily affects boys. PTC actually withdrew its own application after receiving negative FDA feedback, and families who'd been on the drug are now watching their access evaporate.
Third: uniQure's gene therapy for Huntington's disease, a fatal neurodegenerative condition with no cure. The FDA demanded a new sham-controlled trial (where some patients get a fake procedure) instead of accepting existing data from earlier studies. For a fatal disease with no alternatives, that request landed like a gut punch.

A tiny California startup says it can deliver gene therapy with ultrasound and bubbles instead of viruses. The animal data is so good that top scientists "find it hard to believe." Here's why the Duchenne muscular dystrophy field is both electrified and deeply skeptical.


Join thousands of biotech professionals who start their day with our free, daily briefing.
These aren't obscure cases. They represent some of the most heartbreaking corners of medicine, where patients have almost nothing and the few potential treatments keep getting blocked at the regulatory gate.
Zoom out and the picture gets more troubling. According to testimony from the EveryLife Foundation, the FDA has rejected 23 rare disease therapies since 2025. Many involved reversals of earlier decisions, where the agency shifted its expectations mid-development.
An independent consulting analysis of rare disease decisions from January 2025 through April 2026 found that 7 of 15 rare or orphan drug applications were rejected. The reasons followed a familiar script: trial designs the FDA once seemed willing to accept (single-arm studies, external control groups, biomarker endpoints) were suddenly deemed insufficient.
The rejected drugs span a heartbreaking range of conditions: Hunter syndrome, Friedreich's ataxia, Menkes disease (an ultra-rare pediatric disorder), Barth syndrome, and more. In several cases, the FDA asked companies to run new controlled studies in patient populations so small that recruiting enough participants borders on impossible.
Think of it like asking someone to conduct a statistically rigorous taste test, but only 300 people on Earth have ever tried the food.
Here's what makes this story so complicated: the FDA's overall orphan drug track record is actually strong. Rare disease drugs accounted for roughly 52% of all novel drug approvals in 2024 and 50% in 2025. By the numbers, FDA is approving more rare disease drugs than ever.
But advocates argue the numbers mask a deeper problem. The approvals that go through tend to be for conditions where traditional trial designs work. For ultra-rare diseases (tiny patient populations, no validated endpoints, limited natural history data), the FDA appears to have raised its evidence bar just when these patients need flexibility most.
A physician from Massachusetts General Hospital told the Senate that something has "gone seriously wrong" at the agency, arguing that efficacy requirements built for blockbuster drugs are being applied to conditions affecting a few hundred people. Sen. Kirsten Gillibrand, a Democrat, agreed that the FDA isn't fully using the flexibility Congress already authorized. That kind of bipartisan alignment on a regulatory issue is rare enough to notice.
The patient advocacy community isn't waiting for congressional hearings to make its point. Families affected by MPS (a group of rare metabolic disorders) staged a symbolic funeral outside FDA headquarters, complete with a hearse and coffin, to represent lives they say are being lost while treatments languish in regulatory limbo.
The Cure Sanfilippo Foundation credited months of family advocacy with helping trigger Johnson's investigation. The National Ataxia Foundation is actively collecting patient stories for submission to Senate committees. These groups view Johnson's probe not as a one-off, but as one tool in a multi-front campaign to reshape how the FDA evaluates drugs for tiny patient populations.
Johnson's investigation lands at a moment when the FDA is already under extraordinary strain. The agency has cycled through five different directors of its drug center since January. Commissioner Makary is widely expected to be removed. Staff cuts have eliminated roughly 20% of FDA's workforce. Morale is, by most accounts, in the basement.
The user-fee reauthorization process (the "must-pass" legislation that funds FDA's drug review operations) is also ramping up for 2026 negotiations. That gives Congress enormous leverage to attach policy changes to the funding bill: think new requirements for rare disease review flexibility, transparency mandates, or altered approval thresholds.
For biotech companies developing rare disease therapies, the stakes couldn't be higher. Investors already price regulatory risk into these programs. If Congress forces the FDA to codify more flexible standards for ultra-rare conditions, it could unlock billions in development capital. If the probe fizzles into political theater, the chilling effect on rare disease R&D could deepen.
The patients watching this unfold don't care about political theater. They care about whether the drug that might save their child's life gets a fair shot. Right now, they're not convinced it does.
Median launch prices for new drugs dropped more than 40% in 2025, falling to $216,000 from over $370,000 the year before. But before you celebrate, the reason has nothing to do with pharma companies charging less.