The Four Essential Tools for Bioresearch
By the 1990s, Japanese research institutions considered four essential instruments indispensable for bioresearch. These “Four Essential Tools” referred to the DNA sequencer, DNA synthesizer, protein sequencer, and peptide synthesizer. These tools enabled the sequencing and chemical synthesis of DNA and proteins, which were the fundamental building blocks of life. However, due to the high cost of consumables and the labor-intensive nature of their operation, these synthesizers were not easy to utilize effectively.
During my tenure in Millipore’s Bioscience Division, I was struggling to compete with ABI (Applied Biosystems Inc.), the industry leader. During a training visit to the U.S., I overheard an intriguing conversation with local colleagues over beers. In the U.S., major universities and pharmaceutical companies had established core labs—shared research facilities staffed by experts in chemical synthesis and service engineers. These labs efficiently provided chemical synthesis services, and their system was expanding to include contract venture companies with unique technologies.
In the U.S., technicians were highly valued specialists recognized for their expertise. They collaborated as equals with Ph.D. researchers, planning and executing highly efficient experimental programs. This conversation sparked an idea: “If we can’t win with instruments, let’s capture half the reagent market.” Upon returning to Japan, I proposed a DNA contract lab plan to several regional distributors, trained their personnel in laboratory operations for 2–3 months, and sold demonstration units at discounted prices. This initiative successfully created a nationwide DNA synthesis contract network. Within three years, we expanded the distribution of synthesis reagents to 14 sites across Japan and captured a 50% market share within a year. In retrospect, this initiative might have been a precursor to today’s CROs (Contract Research Organizations).
During this time, Millipore acquired Biosearch Corporation in California, gaining access to a compact DNA synthesizer that quickly became successful in the market. Biosearch’s “Cyclone” DNA synthesizer earned a strong reputation, with over 400 units installed in Japan. Combined with ABI’s systems, an estimated 1,200 DNA synthesizers were deployed nationwide.
Tim McGrath, who had first told me about U.S. DNA synthesis ventures, was later recruited as CEO of Texas-based DNA synthesis startup Genosis Biotechnology. He developed an innovative synthesizer that became the U.S. market leader.
One remarkable trait of U.S. ventures is their ability to safeguard proprietary technologies internally, using them as a key business asset rather than exposing them to external competition. Americans excel at analyzing business opportunities from a broad spatial perspective, combining technical and strategic foresight. Engineers themselves often possess the business acumen to anticipate market trends and calculate strategic opportunities. This forward-thinking approach to DNA research in the late 1980s laid the groundwork for the Big Pharma era, driven by the restructuring of pharmaceutical companies.
Meeting Genosys Technology in Texas
Genosys Technology, mentioned earlier, was a DNA synthesis contract venture company renamed and restructured by Tim McGrath after he left Millipore to take on the role of CEO at the former Genetic Design. Tim had transitioned from Beckman to Millipore’s MilliGen division, where I first encountered him in the coffee room of a small garage-like venture division located in Bedford, a suburb of Boston.
Unlike many Americans, Tim wore a suit and tie and was often seen reading the newspaper. With his constant smile and neatly parted Kennedy haircut (named after John F. Kennedy’s 7:3 hairstyle), he exuded the aura of a quintessential salesman. At worldwide sales meetings, Tim was always upbeat and consistently among the top-performing salespeople. After five years at Millipore, Tim was recruited to revitalize the struggling venture. Even after his departure, we kept in regular contact.
In the spring of 1992, Tim contacted me during a visit to Japan, expressing a desire to meet in Tokyo. When we reconnected, he explained his plans: “I’m setting up a DNA synthesis facility, starting in North America and then expanding to Europe. Once that succeeds, I’d like to enter the Japanese market. Can you support us?” Naturally, I agreed.
Two years later, in the summer of 1994, Tim reached out again, ready to fulfill his promise. However, this coincided with a critical period when Millipore’s Bioscience Division was being sold to PerSeptive Biosystems, which would take over its operations. I explained the situation and regrettably informed him that I couldn’t participate directly. Nevertheless, I was determined to help Tim achieve his goals. I offered guidance and support to help them establish a presence in Japan.
While preparing to launch PerSeptive’s operations, I began identifying a domestic partner capable of ensuring the venture’s success. This search led me to Mr. M in Hokkaido, whom I later introduced to Texas. This collaboration ultimately paved the way for groundbreaking success in DNA primer synthesis and significantly contributed to advancing genetic analysis research in Japan. I believe this was a pivotal business support initiative that drove both scientific and commercial success.
Competition in Business Sense Between Japan and the US
When it comes to analytical instruments and equipment supporting biological research, there is a significant difference between Japanese and American products in terms of manufacturing capabilities, quality control, validation proficiency, finish quality, and precision. While Japanese manufacturing management and design are highly regarded today, back in the 1980s, there was still a cultural resistance among Americans, especially on the East Coast, to acknowledge Japanese manufacturing.
Interestingly, our competitor, ABI, headquartered in California, excelled in product design. Their products stood out not only in design but also in aspects like wiring, electrical systems, and serviceability.
When selecting products, biological researchers prioritize questions like, “Does it produce reliable data?” “Were the catalog data collected domestically?” and “Will it work with my samples?” They have little to no interest in the mechanisms, functionalities, or principles of the equipment. Price and design often become the decisive factors.
Most East Coast companies in the US focused on functionality, falling behind their West Coast counterparts in marketing. This trend was particularly pronounced among users of bioscience research equipment compared to those in the analytical instruments market for chemical analysis. Analytical chemistry users pursue fundamental principles, whereas bio researchers often view equipment merely as tools, similar to how we might choose a wristwatch based on readability or design without concern for its internal mechanics.
At American factories, workers often ate donuts, blasted rock music, and even played darts during breaks. Vendors selling sweets would draw crowds during the 10 AM break. Sometimes, when unpacking products from these factories, we found screwdrivers, bread crumbs, or worse—ribbon cables crushed by carelessly tightened screws. Despite this, we had to constantly justify our performance to the regional sales managers asking, “Why aren’t we selling?”
Before acquiring the California-based BioSearch Corporation and its “Cyclone” DNA synthesizer, there was a notable incident. A US sales manager visiting Japan for the quarter-end review questioned our poor win rate. Our company, Millipore, an East Coast enterprise, lagged significantly behind competitors in terms of delivery records, design, application, and price. The manager remarked, “Focus on functionality; design doesn’t matter.”
Frustrated, I responded, “Alright, let’s go to a Japanese confectionery shop.”
“Why not?” he replied.
“Just follow me.”
At the shop, I asked him to choose the most and least appealing confectionery based on appearance. Unsurprisingly, he picked a brightly colored wagashi (traditional Japanese sweet) as the most appealing and a plain black yokan (sweet bean jelly) as the least.
I then instructed him to taste both. The wagashi, though visually attractive, was dry and unappetizing for him, while the yokan, despite its plain appearance, was smooth and rich in flavor.
“See? First-time buyers often choose based on looks. The same applies to analytical and biological research equipment. Analytical users care about principles and protocols, but most bio researchers purchase equipment for the first time and focus solely on whether it provides good data,” I explained.
In the US at that time, there was a significant gap in status and salary between factory workers and business managers. Reducing costs often took precedence over improving manufacturing quality or service efficiency. Unlike Japanese companies, US firms lacked the holistic approach of enhancing quality to reduce return rates.
In my experience with US companies, even small-scale projects with venture-like qualities were handled by small teams managing everything from design to manufacturing. Products were often released in beta form, with improvements made based on user feedback after launch. This approach differed significantly from Japanese companies, where products were meticulously finalized before release.
This cultural approach, combined with rapid technological competition, may have contributed to Japan’s lag in the bio equipment market. Perhaps it reflects a difference in business sense or the way sensitivities are cultivated in the two countries.
The Dawn of the US Business Game
In the summer of 1994, Millipore Corporation in the United States announced it would retain its core membrane and pure water manufacturing businesses while selling its Waters Chromatography Division and the Biosciences Division, where I worked. While the Waters Chromatography Division quickly found a buyer under a bank-backed investment group, the Biosciences Division faced a nine-month wait after the announcement. This marked my third experience with a corporate sale.
A nine-month limbo following such an announcement is grueling. Customers and distributors hesitate to purchase from a manufacturer with an uncertain future, and employees struggle with ongoing anxiety. Competitors’ sales teams leverage this uncertainty to steer potential clients away. Most of the quote requests we received were for competitive comparison purposes only.
About six months into this waiting period, I received a call from Dr. Jack Johansen, head of the Biosciences Division at Millipore’s US headquarters. His message was, “Iwase, we’re going independent. The name will be BioSearch. Start preparing immediately!”
Dr. Jack Johansen, a peptide chemistry expert and Millipore’s Chief Scientific Officer (CSO), was a genial scholar and a towering figure in the field. I often accompanied him to prestigious universities such as Kyoto, Osaka, and Kyushu, where he carried a large, hard-sided suitcase half-filled with research papers. Before boarding the Shinkansen, he would pull out a 5 cm stack of papers to read and discard during the ride. Jack had a noticeable dandruff problem, and before visiting clients, I would often brush off his shoulders with my handkerchief.
At these universities, Jack would converse with renowned professors as though they were old friends, drawing clear boundaries between academia and business. His approach to fostering academia-industry collaboration was remarkable, and it was the first time I had witnessed such seamless integration. It left me wondering whether Japanese companies could replicate such an environment.
Excited by Jack’s call, we immediately began preparations for the startup. At that time, setting up a foreign company registration in Japan was straightforward. As long as a Japanese resident was involved, a company could be established with as little as $10 in capital. Compared to the ¥10 million required for a Japanese corporation, this was far more accessible. The process at the US embassy involved submitting an affidavit, raising your right hand in front of a consular officer, and taking an oath on a Bible—a surprisingly uplifting experience.
Three months later, in early June, I received a message from headquarters instructing me to meet with executives, including the CEO of a major US competitor’s Japanese subsidiary. I visited their office in Sanbancho. To my surprise, their CEO and executives openly discussed, “It seems our company might acquire your Biosciences Division.” Their probing questions left me uncertain about what to expect.
Two weeks later, the press release announced: “Millipore Corporation’s Biosciences Division to be acquired by PerSeptive Biosystems, a venture-backed US company originating from MIT.”
What?! What happened to the meeting two weeks ago?

Jack left the company the following day. Despite the turbulence, my time with Jack, a CSO of a large corporation, was filled with fond memories of drinking sake in Japan and sharing fascinating stories. His insights into the future of science and the state of biosciences were invaluable, and I remain deeply grateful for the learning opportunities he provided.
Little did I know that even more tumultuous events lay ahead.
(To be continued…)

Mr. Hisashi Iwase
Life Science Innovation Advisor at the Japan Analytical Instruments Manufacturers’ Association (JAIMA),
and President & CEO of BioDiscovery Inc. Born in 1951, Tokyo.
Graduated from the Department of Industrial Chemistry, College of Science and Technology, Nihon University.
Mr. Iwase’s extensive career in managing and marketing analytical and bioscience instruments includes
positions at Merck Japan, Waters Japan, Millipore Japan, PerSeptive Biosystems Japan, Applied Biosystems,
Varian Technologies, and Agilent Technologies. In 2001, he established BioDiscovery Inc., and since 2013,
he has served as a Life Science Innovation Advisor for JAIMA.