Conflicts of Interest in Research

By Hannah Bui · 30 June 2026 · 7 min read
Two people working in a laboratory with equipment.

About 40% of clinical trials published in high-impact journals receive funding from the industry whose product is being tested. That number has stayed stubbornly consistent across multiple meta-analyses going back to the early 2000s. And if you've spent any time reading research on cannabidiol, peptides, or plant medicines, you'll have noticed a pattern: industry-funded studies trend positive at roughly twice the rate of independently funded ones.

I got properly obsessed with this after a swim one cold Hobart morning. A researcher friend mentioned she'd just had a paper rejected because the journal suspected her results , which were negative , were suppressed by a previous affiliated study. She had to fight to publish a null finding. That shouldn't be unusual. But it is.

What a conflict of interest actually is

A conflict of interest (COI) in research isn't necessarily misconduct. It's a situation where a researcher, institution, or journal has a financial or personal stake in the outcome of a study. The relationship can be direct , a lab funded by a manufacturer studying that manufacturer's extract; or indirect, like a researcher holding equity in a company whose competitor's product they're testing.

The problem isn't that COIs exist. They're nearly unavoidable in applied science. The problem is when they're undisclosed, or when readers don't know how to factor them in.

In the cannabinoid and phytomedicine space, this matters more than most. Research on compounds like tetrahydrocannabinol, cannabigerol, or novel constituents like THCV is still relatively young. The independent evidence base is thin. That means industry-funded work makes up a disproportionately large slice of what we know, and how optimistically we frame what we know.

The mechanisms: how funding shapes findings

There are several distinct pathways through which funding can tilt results, and most of them operate without any deliberate dishonesty.

Study design choices. Funders don't usually tell researchers to fabricate data. Instead, the pressure shows up earlier: in the choice of comparator, the selection of outcome measures, the duration of follow-up. A study designed to show a short-term surrogate outcome (say, a blood marker rather than a clinical endpoint) is both cheaper and more likely to produce a positive-looking result.

Selective reporting. Even pre-registered trials can have this problem. A 2018 Cochrane review of trial reporting found that primary outcomes were frequently changed or quietly downgraded after data collection began. Outcomes that looked good got promoted; others got buried in supplementary tables, if they appeared at all.

Publication bias. Journals have historically preferred positive findings. Negative trials, especially small ones; don't get submitted, or don't get accepted. The result is a literature that systematically over-represents efficacy. When you're reading about something like bioavailability comparisons between delivery formats, or about proposed mechanisms involving the endocannabinoid system, ask yourself: how many studies didn't find what the positive ones did, and where did those go?

Framing and language. This one's subtle but worth watching. Phrases like "promising preliminary evidence" or "results are consistent with a potential role" can technically be accurate whilst carrying far more optimism than the data warrants. I'd argue this is the most pervasive form of spin in supplement and phytomedicine literature right now. It's not lying. But it's not fair witness to the data either.

How to read a disclosure statement without going cross-eyed

Most journals now require authors to declare COIs. Some require them to be specific; others accept boilerplate. Here's what to actually look for.

First, check whether the declared conflict covers the specific product or compound being studied, not just the general category. A researcher might declare "I have consulted for companies in the wellness industry" without specifying that one of those companies manufactures a standardised extract of exactly the herb under investigation.

Second, check the institutional affiliation. Universities receive research partnerships, gift funding, and infrastructure grants from industry. These don't always appear in author-level disclosures. Check the acknowledgements section, that's where industry infrastructure funding often lives, quietly.

Third, look at who funded the systematic review or meta-analysis, not just the individual trials feeding into it. A meta-analysis funded by an industry body that cherry-picks which trials to include can manufacture a positive summary from a mixed evidence base. It happens. It's not hypothetical.

The specific texture of this problem in plant medicine and peptide research

The market for compounds like full-spectrum preparations, novel cannabinoids, or research-stage peptides operates in a regulatory grey area in Australia. Many products are either unapproved or sit outside the Australian Register of Therapeutic Goods, the ARTG; meaning the usual pre-market evidence requirements don't apply in the same way. The TGA enforces against the supply of unapproved therapeutic goods, and that regulatory gap means industry has strong incentives to generate its own literature.

That's not inherently sinister. But it does mean readers need to be more careful, not less. When a peptide compound isn't approved and researchers close to its manufacturer are publishing on it, the COI declarations deserve more scrutiny than they typically receive. Similarly, when a study on pharmacokinetics of a cannabinoid formulation is funded by the company that makes the formulation, the methodology section needs a closer read, particularly around the comparator design.

This is also a space where the entourage effect hypothesis gets a workout. The idea that constituent compounds interact in ways that modify the overall activity of a preparation is scientifically plausible and genuinely interesting. But it has also been instrumentalised to sell more expensive preparations over simpler ones. Most of the published evidence for specific entourage interactions in humans is either in vitro or comes from funded sources. I'm not saying the hypothesis is wrong, I'm saying the evidence quality needs to be weighed against who paid to generate it.

Practical questions to ask before you trust a study

Honestly, this doesn't need to be complicated. These are the five questions I run through:

That last question does a lot of work. A single positive trial from a funded source is a signal worth noting, not a conclusion worth citing. Replication, especially by groups with no stake in the outcome, is where confidence should actually start to build.

Disclosure rules in Australia and what they don't cover

Australia doesn't have a single mandatory national standard for COI disclosure in academic research, though the National Health and Medical Research Council (NHMRC) publishes guidelines under its Australian Code for the Responsible Conduct of Research. Most Australian journals follow International Committee of Medical Journal Editors (ICMJE) disclosure guidelines, which require authors to declare financial relationships over the past 36 months.

The short version is: disclosure is required, but enforcement is journal-level and largely reactive. If someone doesn't declare a relevant COI and no one checks, the paper goes out. Retraction Watch; which tracks retracted and corrected papers, has documented numerous cases where undisclosed conflicts only came to light after publication, often years later.

For readers working in the access-to-medicine space and following things like the Special Access Scheme or Authorised Prescriber framework, this matters practically. Evidence submitted to regulators to support clinical access programmes is subject to TGA scrutiny, but the published literature that informs practitioner decisions is not.

Sources

, Hannah Bui, Evidence & Research Literacy Writer

Common questions

Does a conflict of interest mean a study is wrong?
Not automatically. A COI signals a risk of bias, not a guarantee of it. The methodology might be sound, the findings might hold up under replication. What a COI means is that you should read the methods and disclosure more carefully, not that you should dismiss the paper outright.
How do I find out who funded a study?
Check the 'Funding' or 'Acknowledgements' section, which sits near the end of most journal articles. Author COI declarations are usually in a separate disclosure statement. For trials, the pre-registration record on ClinicalTrials.gov or the Australian New Zealand Clinical Trials Registry (ANZCTR) will also list the funding source.
Are Australian research disclosure rules different from overseas?
Australian researchers at NHMRC-funded institutions must follow the Australian Code for the Responsible Conduct of Research, which covers COI disclosure. Most Australian journals also follow ICMJE guidelines. The framework is broadly similar to the UK and US, but enforcement is institution- and journal-level rather than centrally mandated.
What is publication bias and why does it matter for plant medicine research?
Publication bias is the tendency for studies with positive or statistically significant results to be published more often than studies with null or negative results. In plant medicine and cannabinoid research, where the independent evidence base is still thin, this can make a compound look more consistently effective than the full picture of conducted research actually supports.
Is industry funding always a red flag?
Not a red flag so much as a flag. Independent funding is rarer than ideal — particularly for compounds that don't have patent protection and therefore limited commercial incentive for large-scale independent trials. Industry-funded research produced under rigorous, pre-registered conditions with independent statistical analysis is meaningfully different from studies where the funder controlled the design, analysis and reporting. The detail matters.

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About the author
HB
Hannah Bui
Evidence & research-literacy writer · Hobart, TAS

I am the resident sceptic. I write about how to read studies without getting fooled, and the history of how we got here. Sea swimmer year-round, statistics nerd, op-shop devotee, and owner of one very opinionated cattle dog.

BSc Statistics

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