What happens when the scripts are thrown out, the slide decks stay closed, and two professionals in the clinical trials industry simply talk?
You get something rare. Something unpolished. Something real.
In the latest Clinials Insights fireside chat, Keith Berelowitz and Maree Beare, two seasoned professionals from different corners of the clinical research and technology world, met to talk. Not to present, but to reflect.
What followed wasn’t a formal webinar. It was a deeply human conversation that peeled back layers of protocol, process, and professionalism to reveal something more lasting: the stories and emotions that shape the work we do.
“I still hold on to the image of the funeral. Sylvester passing. That shaped everything.”
Keith began with a memory that has never left him. He was 11. His best friend, Sylvester, died from sickle cell. His twin sister survived. That experience, still vivid in Keith’s mind, was the beginning of his journey into science, ethics, and a career shaped by personal loss.
It wasn’t ambition. It was grief, turned into purpose.
And it set the tone for the rest of the conversation.
Because underneath the complexity of trials, behind the dashboards and documentation, are people. People who’ve stayed in this industry despite knowing something most outsiders don’t:
“We’re working in an environment where failure is the norm.”
And that’s not pessimism. It’s structural truth. Most drugs don’t make it through early testing. Most protocols don’t reach the finish line. The work is worthwhile, but unpredictable. It requires resilience; not just technical skill but emotional tenacity.
Once again, it comes down to the people.
The takeaway here: If failure is naturally built into the process, we must build support into the culture.
We need to start talking about emotional durability, not just scientific accuracy, especially as burnout stories are increasingly shaping up the narrative across the industry.
That’s where Maree’s story came in. A technologist by trade, she never expected to confront the clinical trial system from the inside. But when her husband enrolled in a study, everything changed.
“But when my husband went on a clinical trial, … I realized just how hard it is to understand what’s going on.”
Dense protocols. Paper-based adverse event reporting. Confusion over what to expect.
Even as someone building digital health platforms, Maree found herself lost in a system not designed for comprehension, let alone empathy.
Science is complex. Explaining complex concepts in simple terms is equally hard.
Yet, patients, people, are not scientists nor specialists but they need to fully understand everything (beyond good communication, that’s what informed consent truly is).
If a technologist struggles to understand the experience, how do we expect patients to navigate it? (Clear) communication isn’t a regulatory checkbox, it’s a human right.
And if people and processes can not answer this, technology may step in.
The conversation turned, naturally, to participants. Why they take part. What they expect. And what they deserve.
“Clinical trial participation is often a form of conditional altruism.”
People don’t join studies just to help others. They weigh risk. They hope for access to new treatments. But they also expect respect. Simplicity. Clarity.
They want to feel seen, not processed.
Clinical trials are a form of transaction where people literally put their body on the line for the hope - and sometimes, compensation - of better days, for them and others.
The takeaway: To earn participation, we have to deserve trust. That starts with respect and empathy, continues with transparency, and ends with follow-through and continued care.
What made this conversation different wasn’t just the quotes. It was the quiet courage in how they were said. The silences. The acknowledgment that even in a highly regulated, scientifically rigorous space, emotion still leads.
And yes, technology has a place in that. Maree and Keith didn’t argue for less innovation. They argued for purposeful innovation.
Use AI. Use automation. But use it to make room for empathy, use it to translate respect and trust to communications. Make it human.
One guiding principle behind Clinials is ensuring to retain the human input and sensibility. “Human-in-the-loop” is more than a safeguard, it ensures humanity in the technological output.
Technology shouldn’t replace people - and it still can’t. It should, however, relieve them, so they have the time to connect, explain, and care.
Technology has to fit in processes, improve them, and free space for empathy and humanity.
This wasn’t a keynote. It was a moment in time. A conversation that left the jargon behind and asked, quietly but powerfully:
How do we bring (and keep) the human back into clinical trials?
Watch, and listen to, the full fireside chat:
Clinials Insights - Re-Humanizing Clinical Trials: Empathy, Engagement, and Resilience.
And tell us what you think. We're keen to continue the conversation.
