AstraZeneca has spent two decades building one of the deepest science portfolios in the industry. Its Canadian affiliate has now completed the harder half of that journey — moving from molecule to mandate, from proving that a therapy works to ensuring that the country’s health system can actually deliver it to the patients who need it.
The past twelve months mark a structural inflection for AstraZeneca Canada. Ontario funded Tagrisso and Calquence among the first therapies through its FAST program. A federal Rare Disease Strategy promised national funding even as provinces implemented it unevenly. A respiratory biologic moved toward launch, a biomarker-driven oncology asset met regulatory turbulence, and a Section 232 tariff exemption set a three-year clock on supply-chain decisions. Read individually, each development is a story of scientific and commercial ambition. Read together, they describe an affiliate whose hardest problems are no longer about whether the science is good. They are about whether the people who control access, reimbursement, diagnosis, and delivery will move together, in time.
That is a different kind of problem, and it does not yield to the instruments that built the portfolio. A market-access submission, a medical-affairs advisory board, and a national sales plan each does important work, but none of them puts the provincial payer, the federal policy lead, the clinician, the patient advocate, and AstraZeneca’s own commercial and medical teams in the same room with the authority to resolve the trade-offs between them. Across AstraZeneca Canada’s current challenge portfolio, the same structural condition recurs: multiple constraint owners, none able to mandate the others, and a clock that is already running.
This brief maps ten of those challenges, then works two of them in detail — the Ontario FAST Scale-Up and the Rare Disease Policy Void — to show what a structured, decision-forcing process produces at each stage. It does not displace the reviews, advisory boards, and access plans AstraZeneca Canada already runs. It is the instrument for the questions those forums keep returning to without resolving.
AstraZeneca Canada was built on the conviction that better science changes outcomes. That conviction produced a portfolio of genuine depth: targeted oncology therapies matched to the patients most likely to benefit, respiratory franchises with decades of clinical heritage, and a rare-disease business anchored by the Alexion acquisition.1 The affiliate has consistently won the argument that its medicines work.
What the current period requires is something different. AstraZeneca Canada is no longer primarily proving efficacy to regulators and prescribers. It is now trying to make a fragmented, multi-jurisdictional health system absorb its science at the speed its pipeline demands — and that system is governed by actors the company cannot direct. Health Canada controls approval. The Canadian Drug Agency and the pan-Canadian Pharmaceutical Alliance control health-technology assessment and price negotiation. Thirteen provincial and territorial drug plans control listing.3 Clinicians control prescribing. Patient organizations control the advocacy that moves policy. AstraZeneca controls the molecule and the evidence — and almost nothing downstream of it.
The transition is visible in the choices the affiliate now faces under pressure. Converting a single province’s funding decision into a national playbook, translating a federal rare-disease promise into provincial listings, standing up referral pathways for a biologic before its launch, defending a biomarker strategy after a regulatory setback — each of these is an execution problem dressed as a scientific one. The answer, in each case, is substantially knowable. What is missing is the coordinated commitment of the people who must act on it.
Across the portfolio, the structural condition is consistent: several parties each hold one indispensable piece of the answer, none can compel the others, the cost of vague alignment is high, and a real deadline removes the option of waiting. That is the precise condition this brief is concerned with.
The developments of the past year, read together, reveal a pattern. In each challenge, AstraZeneca Canada holds part of the answer. Several other parties hold the rest. And the work that remains is not more analysis — it is coordination under a deadline.
A three-year U.S. pharmaceutical tariff exemption secured in April 2026 started a clock that AstraZeneca cannot stop and cannot meet alone.4 Within that window, supply-chain footprint, manufacturing commitments, and the market-access implications of where product is made must all be decided together — and the decisions sit across global operations, the Canadian affiliate, external manufacturing partners, and trade-policy actors who answer to different mandates and timelines. Each party controls one input to a single integrated bet. None can sequence the others, and the exemption expires whether or not the coordination has happened.
Tagrisso and Calquence were among the first therapies funded through Ontario’s FAST program in January 2026 — a genuine precedent, but a precedent is not a mechanism.2 Converting one province’s “yes” into faster national access runs through the pan-Canadian Pharmaceutical Alliance, the Canadian Drug Agency, and thirteen provincial drug plans, each operating on its own incentives, evidence thresholds, and budget clock. No province is bound by another’s decision, and AstraZeneca controls only the evidence and value story. The question is who converts the Ontario anchor into a national pattern before it fades. (Worked Example A.)
Strong Phase III respiratory data reported in early 2026 points toward a biologic COPD launch — but a launch only succeeds if the system can receive it.6 Tozorakimab depends on referral pathways from primary care to specialists, on specialist capacity to absorb new patients, and on diagnostic infrastructure that identifies the right candidates in time. AstraZeneca owns none of that pathway. Provincial health authorities, respirologists, primary-care networks, and diagnostic providers each control a segment, and a biologic that arrives before the pathway is built reaches far fewer patients than the data would justify.
A federal Rare Disease Strategy and Alexion’s May 2026 submission to the House of Commons health committee put national intent and funding on the record — but reimbursement still happens province by province, and the federal-to-provincial hand-off is where the promise stalls.5 Products like Koselugo face slow, uneven listings as a result. Ottawa controls the framing and funding envelope, provinces control the listing decisions, and advocacy organizations control the pressure that moves a stalled file. No single actor can close the gap between a federal announcement and a provincial budget line. (Worked Example B.)
An April 2026 FDA ODAC vote against the benefit-risk profile turned a biomarker-driven oncology asset into a problem that more data alone will not solve.7 A regulatory setback of this kind reshapes how clinicians, payers, and the company’s own teams read the evidence, and the defense has to be coordinated rather than asserted. Medical affairs, commercial, market access, and evidence-generation must align on a single, credible narrative and a shared plan for the additional data — functions that can each move independently and, left uncoordinated, send conflicting signals into a market already primed to doubt.
A breast-cancer survivorship partnership announced at ASCO 2026 commits AstraZeneca to a model of care that no single organization delivers.8 Survivorship spans the hand-off from oncology back to primary care, the patient organizations that support people after active treatment, and the health-system capacity to track and manage long-term needs — actors that today operate in silos with no shared protocol. Turning an announcement into coordinated care requires oncologists, primary-care providers, and advocacy groups to agree on who owns the patient at each stage. The partnership names the ambition; it does not yet name the owners.
Respiratory screening pilots such as the Best Care COPD program have shown that earlier detection works — but a successful pilot and a scaled program are different problems.9 Moving beyond the pilot stage depends on provincial health authorities to fund and embed screening, on private partners to deliver capacity, and on primary care to refer into it. AstraZeneca can catalyze and support, but cannot mandate a province to adopt a screening pathway or a health system to resource it. Scaling is a coordination decision among funders and delivery partners, not a clinical one.
AstraZeneca’s portfolio has shifted, but its legacy payer relationships and the pricing expectations built around older multiple-sclerosis assets have not reset with it. Renegotiating those expectations is delicate: concessions made to preserve legacy relationships can undercut the pricing credibility that newer, higher-value assets depend on, while holding firm risks the relationships themselves. Market access, the medical team, and provincial and private payers each hold part of the lever, and the trade-off between protecting legacy volume and defending future pricing cannot be resolved by any one function negotiating in isolation from the others.
AstraZeneca’s biomarker science is world-class, yet world-class evidence is not converting into clinical adoption — because the bottleneck is implementation in the clinic, not the strength of the data. Getting a biomarker into routine practice requires testing infrastructure, pathology and lab capacity, clinician familiarity, and reimbursement for the test itself, each governed by a different actor. The company can generate the evidence and make the case, but it cannot order a lab to adopt an assay or a clinician to change a workflow. The gap is an execution problem that the data keeps proving is not a data problem.
A tighter global operating model sets launch timing and ambition centrally, but those decisions have to land in a Canadian system with its own access realities and an affiliate with finite capacity. Reconciling global sequencing, local market constraints, and affiliate bandwidth is a recurring negotiation between the global organization, the Canadian leadership team, and the functions that must execute each launch. When global timing outruns local readiness, ambition arrives faster than the system can absorb it. The reconciliation is a coordination problem inside AstraZeneca’s own structure, before any external stakeholder is even engaged.
Ten challenges, one shape. In each, the affiliate is not short of insight. It is short of a forum in which the people who own the constraints resolve them together. Two of these — the Ontario FAST Scale-Up and the Rare Disease Policy Void — are worked in detail below.
The forums AstraZeneca Canada already runs — leadership reviews, medical advisory boards, market-access submissions, national sales conferences, cross-functional launch teams — do real and necessary work. They set strategy, brief stakeholders, and coordinate internal execution. They are not the problem, and nothing here replaces them.
A well-run leadership review confirms that the FAST precedent matters, that the rare-disease access gap is urgent, and that the respiratory launch must succeed. It assigns owners inside AstraZeneca. What it cannot do is convene the provincial payer, the federal policy lead, the treating clinician, and the patient advocate — none of whom report to AstraZeneca — and force the trade-offs among them in a way that produces commitments those external actors own.
There is a practical self-test for when a different instrument is required. If the same coordination question appears on successive leadership agendas without resolving — if the access question, the referral-pathway question, the federal-to-provincial translation question keep returning in slightly different language — the issue is not insufficient analysis. It is that the people who control the answer have never been in the same room, structured to decide.
The next instrument is a structured, decision-forcing process. It convenes AstraZeneca’s internal team alongside the external village that controls the real-world constraints, and moves through three stages: Analyze, where the constraints are surfaced and participants align on the facts; Diverge, where cross-boundary options are generated that no single actor would produce alone; and Converge, where the trade-offs are forced and a 30/60/90-day plan with named owners is co-created in the room. The output is not a report. It is a strategy owned by the people who must execute it.
Two of AstraZeneca Canada’s live challenges show what that sequence produces at each stage.
This is a structural challenge Mind Meeting Group has resolved before in the Canadian life-sciences system. In 2023, MMG was engaged by Eisai Canada to confront a problem that looked clinical but was in fact a coordination failure: excessive MRI wait times threatened to deny early-Alzheimer’s patients access to a new class of disease-modifying therapies that require regular MRI monitoring. The bottleneck was not a shortage of machines or evidence. It was that radiologists, neurologists, MRI technologists, health administrators, patient advocates, and policy experts each controlled one part of the access pipeline and had never been asked to solve it together.10
MMG convened 28 participants over three days. Working in small, cognitively diverse teams across six topics designed to surface every barrier in the pipeline simultaneously, they identified 180 distinct issues, generated 125 candidate solutions, and converged on 19 prioritized recommendations — built by the people who run the MRI system daily, and therefore owned by them rather than received as a consultant’s suggestion. As one health-system leader put it afterward, the workshop’s value was that it created a shared diagnosis and a foundation of trust from which the participants could keep working.
The Eisai engagement is instructive for the Ontario FAST challenge precisely because the obstacle was never a shortage of evidence. Tagrisso and Calquence are funded in Ontario. The clinical case is made. What is unresolved is how to convert one province’s decision into a national pattern when pCPA, CDA-AMC, and thirteen provincial drug plans each operate with different incentives, evidence thresholds, and timelines, and none of them can be ordered to move faster.
The Analyze stage is not a market-access briefing prepared by AstraZeneca’s strategy team and delivered to participants. It is a structured process in which each constraint owner makes their real constraint legible to the others. The output is a shared map of who controls what — built in the room, not asserted from a deck.
In the FAST challenge, that map has an uncomfortable shape. AstraZeneca controls the value story and the evidence package. The pan-Canadian Pharmaceutical Alliance controls the price negotiation that gates listing. The Canadian Drug Agency controls the health-technology assessment that frames the recommendation. Each provincial ministry controls its own listing decision, on its own clock, against its own budget. Ontario’s FAST decision created a precedent, but a precedent is not a mechanism — no province is bound by another’s choice.
Analyze also makes legible what the FAST precedent looks like from each constraint owner’s perspective. A provincial drug-plan leader in a smaller jurisdiction sees not a template to copy but a budget pressure to manage and a fairness question to answer. A pCPA negotiator sees a pricing benchmark that may or may not transfer. Until those perspectives are surfaced together, AstraZeneca’s national playbook is built on an assumption — that what worked in Ontario will travel — that no one in the room has tested.
| No. | Topic | Why no single actor can resolve it |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | FAST precedent translation | Ontario’s funding decision binds no other province; converting it into a national pattern requires each jurisdiction to choose to follow, which AstraZeneca cannot mandate. |
| 2 | Provincial negotiation sequencing | The order and timing of provincial negotiations determine whether momentum builds or stalls, but sequencing depends on payer calendars and budgets outside AstraZeneca’s control. |
| 3 | Evidence package standardization | A package that satisfies every provincial threshold must be designed against requirements set by CDA-AMC and multiple ministries, not by the manufacturer alone. |
| 4 | Pricing and contracting thresholds | pCPA controls the price negotiation that gates listing; the budget-impact fear that slows smaller provinces can only be resolved with the payers in the room. |
| 5 | Value story harmonization | A value story that gives smaller provinces cover to follow Ontario must be co-owned by clinicians and policy advisors, not asserted by commercial. |
| 6 | Stakeholder message alignment | Provincial ministries, negotiators, clinicians, and advocates must carry a consistent account of why faster access is warranted, which no single party can impose on the others. |
With the constraint map shared and agreed, the Diverge stage generates options that cross every boundary the map exposed — options no single actor would produce alone. AstraZeneca’s market-access and government-affairs leads, the medical team, provincial-reimbursement and pCPA-negotiation advisors, and external policy advisors generate strategies together rather than negotiating bilaterally.
From that configuration, options emerge that province-by-province negotiation would never produce: a standardized evidence package designed once to satisfy the common denominator of provincial thresholds; a sequencing strategy that uses Ontario’s decision as an anchor for the next negotiations rather than letting each province start cold; a harmonized value story that gives smaller provinces political cover to follow a larger one’s lead; a managed-entry or outcomes-based contracting structure that addresses the budget-impact fear directly. The point of Diverge is not that every option is adopted. It is that the process generates the options that only appear when the people who own the constraints build them together.
The Converge stage forces the trade-offs and produces a 30/60/90-day plan with named owners. The hard trade-off here is between speed and uniformity. A single national value story negotiated centrally is faster to deploy but less responsive to provincial budget realities; a province-tailored approach respects local constraints but sacrifices the momentum the Ontario precedent created. Converge puts the provincial-reimbursement and pCPA-negotiation advisors and AstraZeneca’s teams in a room structured to make that choice explicitly rather than letting it resolve itself through drift.
In the first thirty days, the standardized evidence package and the harmonized value story are agreed, with a named owner for each priority province. By sixty days, the sequencing plan is set and the first follow-on provincial negotiations are scheduled against the Ontario anchor. By ninety days, the contracting structure that addresses budget-impact concerns is drafted and tested with at least one additional provincial plan. The deliverable is not a strategy document about national access. It is a sequenced set of commitments, owned by the people whose decisions determine whether access actually moves.
| Who needs to be in the room | Role in the problem | Why their absence stalls the solution |
|---|---|---|
| AstraZeneca Canada market access & government affairs | Own the value story, the evidence package, and the relationships with payers and ministries. | Without access leadership present with authority to commit, the national playbook remains a proposal rather than a coordinated plan. |
| pCPA negotiation consultants | Model the price-negotiation dynamics that gate every provincial listing. | Absent, the pricing and budget-impact trade-off — the real gate on speed — is never pressure-tested in the room. |
| Provincial reimbursement advisors | Reconstruct how each jurisdiction approaches its listing decision, on its own timelines and budgets. | Without the provincial-payer perspective in the room, the playbook is built on an untested assumption that Ontario’s decision will travel. |
| CDA-AMC / HTA strategy consultants | Map the health-technology-assessment thresholds that shape provincial recommendations. | Their absence leaves the evidence-package standardization guesswork rather than a design against real thresholds. |
| Province-facing account leads | Hold the on-the-ground relationships and knowledge of local constraints. | Without them, the sequencing strategy ignores the payer calendars and politics that determine what is actually possible. |
| AstraZeneca oncology commercial & medical affairs | Own the clinical value narrative and launch execution for the funded therapies. | Absent, the value story is not grounded in the clinical reality clinicians and payers will test it against. |
| External policy advisors | Understand the inter-provincial dynamics and the politics of access precedent. | Their absence ensures the political cover smaller provinces need to follow Ontario is never engineered. |
Mind Meeting Group has facilitated the resolution of an almost identical coordination challenge in Canadian life sciences. In 2020, MMG was engaged by Biogen Canada to prepare the country for a new class of disease-modifying Alzheimer’s therapies. The problem was not the science. It was that the Canadian system was structurally unprepared — no standardized diagnostic pathway, insufficient imaging capacity, deep stigma, and a pandemic actively making everything harder. Biogen could not mandate any of it to change. As a pharmaceutical company, it could not compel provinces to fund scans, direct physicians to adopt protocols, or tell patient organizations what to prioritize. Yet neurologists, advocates, homecare providers, health administrators, and provincial policy actors all had to move together — and they had never been in the same room.11
MMG convened 27 participants over three days — 9 from Biogen and 18 external stakeholders, including neurologists, Alzheimer Society representatives, a former Ontario Health CEO, a homecare provider, and a patient. Across six topics designed to surface the whole system’s barriers at once, the group co-created 18 consensus recommendations grouped into three themes: redesign the dementia care model, build the capacity to implement it, and advocate for it to be sustained. Biogen left with something a pharmaceutical company cannot buy — a coalition of stakeholders who had stress-tested the strategy together and owned its recommendations because they had built them.
The rare-disease access challenge at AstraZeneca Canada has the same structure. The federal intent exists; the Rare Disease Strategy and the funding promise are on the record. The clinical need is established. What is unresolved is the translation: federal policy intent has not become provincial reimbursement reality, and products like Koselugo face slow, uneven listings as a result. No single actor — not Ottawa, not any one province, not AstraZeneca, not the advocacy community — can close that gap alone.
The rare-disease access problem has a specific and underappreciated shape. A federal strategy can announce funding and intent, but reimbursement happens province by province, and the federal-to-provincial hand-off is where the promise stalls. The Analyze stage surfaces exactly where, and why.
AstraZeneca’s rare-disease and market-access teams control the evidence and the value story. Federal policy contacts control the strategy’s framing and the funding envelope. Provincial drug plans control the listing decisions where the intent must land. Patient advocacy organizations control the public and political pressure that can move a stalled file. External rare-disease advocates hold the credibility that neither government nor industry can manufacture. Analyze makes each of these constraints legible to the others — including the uncomfortable reality that a federal funding announcement can create expectations the provinces have neither the budget nor the mechanism to meet.
Analyze also surfaces the points where these actors’ incentives conflict. The federal interest in announcing a national strategy can run ahead of provincial capacity to deliver it. A provincial plan’s caution about an unbudgeted rare-disease listing collides with an advocacy community’s urgency. Until those tensions are made explicit and shared, every party assumes the others are the obstacle, and the file does not move.
| No. | Topic | Why no single actor can resolve it |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | Federal-to-provincial translation | A federal strategy announces intent, but no mechanism converts it into provincial listings; building one requires Ottawa and the provinces to agree on the hand-off. |
| 2 | Provincial listing acceleration | Each province controls its own listing decision and budget; AstraZeneca cannot compel any of them to move a rare-disease file faster. |
| 3 | Advocacy coordination | Patient organizations control the political pressure that moves stalled files, but only if aligned behind a single ask the company cannot dictate. |
| 4 | Access sequencing by jurisdiction | Prioritizing provinces by readiness requires knowledge of provincial budgets and politics that sits with payers and advocates, not the manufacturer. |
| 5 | Policy and funding framing | The framing that gives provinces cover to list an unbudgeted therapy must be co-authored by federal contacts and payers, not asserted by industry. |
| 6 | Stakeholder coalition governance | A coalition spanning federal, provincial, industry, and advocacy actors needs governance no single member can impose and all must own. |
Diverge generates options by mixing AstraZeneca’s rare-disease and government-affairs leads, federal-policy and provincial-reimbursement advisors, patient advocates, and external rare-disease champions, and asking them to build solutions together. From that configuration, options emerge that bilateral lobbying would never produce: a federal-to-provincial translation mechanism that converts strategy intent into a listing template provinces can actually use; an access-sequencing approach that prioritizes jurisdictions by readiness rather than fighting all thirteen at once; an advocacy-coordination structure that aligns patient organizations behind a single, consistent ask; a funding-framing that gives provinces political and budgetary cover to list.
As in any Diverge stage, not every option will be adopted. The value is that the process generates the options no single function would reach on its own — the cross-boundary moves that only appear when industry and advocacy actors, working alongside advisors who carry the federal and provincial perspectives, are generating together rather than negotiating across a table.
Converge forces the trade-offs. The hardest one here is between breadth and depth: pursuing access in every province at once spreads effort thin and risks a string of slow files, while concentrating on the most ready jurisdictions delivers early wins but may leave patients in other provinces waiting longer. Converge puts the provincial-reimbursement and federal-policy advisors, the advocates, and AstraZeneca’s team in a room structured to make that choice deliberately, and to assign the coalition governance that keeps it from unraveling once everyone leaves.
In the first thirty days, the federal-to-provincial translation mechanism is drafted and the priority jurisdictions are agreed, each with a named owner. By sixty days, the advocacy-coordination structure is in place and the patient organizations are aligned behind a consistent ask. By ninety days, the funding-framing and access-sequencing plan is tested with at least one priority province and the coalition’s governance — who convenes it, who carries the message, how progress is tracked — is committed. The deliverable is not a policy paper about rare-disease access. It is a working coalition with a sequenced plan, owned by the actors whose coordinated action determines whether listings actually move.
| Who needs to be in the room | Role in the problem | Why their absence stalls the solution |
|---|---|---|
| AstraZeneca Canada rare disease & market access | Own the evidence, the value story, and the listing strategy for the rare-disease portfolio. | Without rare-disease leadership present with authority to commit, the coalition has no anchor and no resourced plan. |
| Federal-policy advisors | Reconstruct how the Rare Disease Strategy framing and the funding envelope are set federally. | Absent, the federal-to-provincial translation mechanism — the crux of the whole problem — cannot be designed. |
| Provincial reimbursement advisors | Reconstruct how listing decisions are made in the jurisdictions where federal intent must become reality. | Without the provincial-payer perspective in the room, the access pathway is designed for a system the people who run it never agreed to. |
| Patient advocacy organizations | Control the public and political pressure that moves stalled files. | Their absence leaves the advocacy effort fragmented and the political cover for listing unbuilt. |
| External rare-disease advocates | Hold the independent credibility neither government nor industry can manufacture. | Without them, the coalition’s ask lacks the legitimacy that moves policymakers. |
| AstraZeneca government affairs | Manage the relationships across federal and provincial governments. | Absent, the coordination across jurisdictions defaults to disconnected bilateral lobbying. |
| Province-facing account leads | Hold local relationships and knowledge of provincial readiness. | Without them, the access-sequencing plan ignores the budget and political realities that determine what is possible. |
None of this displaces the advisory boards, leadership reviews, launch teams, and market-access processes AstraZeneca Canada already runs. Those forums set strategy, brief stakeholders, and coordinate the internal execution that any of these challenges will require. The structured process is not a substitute for them; it is the instrument for the specific questions they keep returning to without resolving.
The recurrence test is useful here. If the national-access question, the federal-to-provincial translation question, the respiratory referral-pathway question, and the survivorship-coordination question keep reappearing on successive agendas in slightly different language, the issue is not that AstraZeneca needs more analysis. It is that the people who control those answers have never been convened in a process built to force the trade-offs and produce committed action.
AstraZeneca Canada’s challenge portfolio has one feature that makes the transition unusually tractable. In every one of the ten challenges described above, the village that must move already exists — payers, policy actors, clinicians, advocates, and the company’s own teams are all identifiable, and most of them already know one another. What remains is to get that village into a room structured to force the trade-offs that the open questions represent.
AstraZeneca has built something genuinely difficult to replicate: a science portfolio matched to the patients most likely to benefit, a respiratory heritage measured in decades, and a rare-disease business addressing conditions that most of the system has never had to organize around. The Canadian affiliate has consistently won the argument that its medicines work.
The question 2026 is asking is whether the coordination infrastructure keeps pace with the science. Not eventually — before the FAST precedent fades, before the next rare-disease file stalls, before the respiratory launch arrives without the referral pathways to receive it. These are not hypothetical risks. They are the natural next consequences of scientific ambition in a health system where the constraint owners are many and the company controls almost none of them.
The remaining work is to get the right people into a process that produces what analysis alone has not: committed action, owned by the people who must deliver it. The science has made the case. The system now has to be made to move — and that is a coordination problem with a known shape and a known instrument.
Mark McCarvill is the founder of Mind Meeting Group, a Vancouver-based strategy and facilitation firm. He has led more than 100 strategic workshops, aligned over 3,000 leaders and stakeholders, and worked on challenges touching more than $350 billion in portfolio value, including engagements with seven of the global top twelve pharmaceutical companies. Mind Meeting Group’s life-sciences work includes the engagements that anchor the two worked examples in this brief. For Eisai Canada, MMG convened neurologists, radiologists, MRI technologists, health-system administrators, and patient advocates to build a cross-sector strategy for MRI access for early-Alzheimer’s patients — producing 19 prioritized recommendations no single actor could have built alone. For Biogen Canada, MMG ran the national Alzheimer’s strategy workshop that prepared the Canadian system for a new class of disease-modifying therapies, convening clinicians, advocates, homecare providers, and provincial policy actors to co-create 18 consensus recommendations and leave Biogen with an aligned coalition rather than a roster of separately briefed contacts.
MMG’s pharmaceutical track record also includes facilitation delivered under contract to Syntegrity Group for AstraZeneca — including work on the Symbicort and Bevespi respiratory franchises and on the in-hospital-to-discharge continuity challenge for the cardiovascular therapy Brilinta — alongside strategic engagements with Novartis, Amgen, Pfizer, and other life-sciences organizations facing the same structural condition. Mind Meeting Group specializes in complex, multi-stakeholder challenges where the answer is knowable but not yet executable — and where the people who must execute it have never been in the same room, structured to decide.