What would you risk to save thousands of lives?
Most of us might sign a petition or donate to a cause. But Tim Friede took a path few would even consider, he repeatedly offered his body to some of the world’s deadliest snakes in the name of science.
Tim Friede’s first intentional snakebite in 2001 wasn’t exactly a walk in the park. Imagine the sting of a bee, amplified a thousand times, then add pure panic. That’s how he describes being bitten by a cobra.
But he didn’t stop there.
Over the next two decades, Friede subjected himself to nearly 200 venomous snakebites, from cobras and black mambas to kraits and taipans, each capable of killing a human in hours, sometimes minutes.
Why would anyone do that?
Friede’s fascination with snakes began innocently enough in Wisconsin, where as a boy he’d catch harmless garter snakes. But as he grew older, his curiosity turned to their deadlier cousins. He became increasingly aware of a grim global reality: snakebites kill tens of thousands of people every year, primarily in impoverished regions with limited access to antivenom.
Determined to make a difference, Friede embarked on a dangerous mission, using his own body to develop resistance to venom and, possibly, help unlock a better cure.
Friede’s path has not been without consequences. After just two cobra bites, he ended up in intensive care and spent four days in a coma. Rather than backing off, he became more meticulous, learning to manage the timing, dosage, and medical aftermath of each bite.
“Snakes are simple,” Friede says. “They want me dead, and I prefer to stay alive. People are much more complicated.”
His relentless efforts soon began to yield an astonishing result: his body was developing antibodies capable of neutralizing a wide range of venom.
As his resistance grew, a question emerged in scientific circles: could Friede’s blood contain the key to a universal antivenom?
That’s when Jacob Glanville, CEO of biotechnology company Centivax, entered the picture. Glanville had spent years searching for a solution to the snakebite crisis. After hitting multiple dead ends, he heard about Friede.
“We need your blood,” Glanville told him. “We need those antibodies.”
Friede immediately agreed.
Researchers studying Friede’s blood made a stunning discovery: it contained antibodies that neutralized the neurotoxins found in numerous deadly snake species. When these antibodies were combined with a compound called varespladib, a molecule that inhibits venom enzymes, they created a powerful antivenom cocktail.
In preclinical trials, this cocktail provided complete protection to mice against bites from 13 different snake species and partial protection against six more.
The findings, published in Cell, mark a significant advance in antivenom research. Traditional antivenoms, typically derived from horses injected with venom, carry ethical concerns, side effects, and high production costs.
David Williams, a scientist who advises the World Health Organization on snakebite treatments, called the results promising. Still, he stressed that human trials will be essential to determine the treatment’s safety and effectiveness, especially for viper bites, which account for roughly half of all venomous snake incidents.
Centivax is preparing to conduct further tests, starting with trials in dogs before moving to humans. The ultimate goal: to create an affordable, widely accessible antivenom that can save lives in the world’s poorest regions.
Friede has since stopped his self-inflicted snakebites, partly at Glanville’s urging, but he admits he misses the mental toughness it demanded.
What he doesn’t miss is the fear that his obsession might end in failure. Instead, he takes pride in the fact that his pain and sacrifice may soon protect some of the most vulnerable people on the planet.
Each year, hundreds of thousands of people are bitten by venomous snakes, many in rural or impoverished communities far from medical care. Friede’s journey, though extreme, has become a symbol of how individual courage and unconventional thinking can catalyze global change.
Could you imagine enduring what Friede did for the greater good? It’s an extraordinary case, but it prompts a universal question: how far are we willing to go to make a difference?
More importantly, can small, determined actions by ordinary people lead to breakthroughs that save lives?
In Friede’s case, the answer appears to be yes. And his journey is far from over.
I’ll just avoid snakes, thanks!