He concluded his speech with a controversial statement: “as part of the agreement [with Pfizer], we stipulated that Israel will serve as a global model state for a rapid vaccine rollout of an entire country… Israel will share with Pfizer, with all of humanity, the statistics that will help in developing strategies to defeat the coronavirus” (my translation, from Hebrew).
But which statistics, what kind of data, will be shared with Pfizer? This question remains a mystery.
An earlier version of this article was published in STAT.
The National Institutes of Health wants your DNA, and the DNA of one million other Americans, for an ambitious project called All of Us. Its goal — to “uncover paths toward delivering precision medicine” — is a good one. But until it can safeguard participants’ sensitive genetic information, you should decline the invitation to join unless you fully understand and accept the risks.
DNA databases like All of Us could provide valuable medical breakthroughs such as identifying new disease risk factors and potential drug targets. But these benefits could come with a high price: increased risk to individuals’ genetic data privacy, something that current U.S. laws do not adequately protect. Read More
Loyola University Chicago’s nationally acclaimed Beazley Institute for Health Law and Policy is pleased to invite original research submissions for the annual Wiet Life Science Law Scholars Conference to be held on Friday, September 7, 2018.
The conference is designed to provide an intellectual venue for life science professors, scholars, and practitioners to convene and discuss current research and scholarship. The phrase “life science law” intends to capture diverse disciplines that involve significant issues of life science research and development, spanning food and drug law, health law, intellectual property (IP) law, biotechnology law, environmental law, administrative law, and antitrust law. Our goal is to foster recognition of life science law as a cohesive, dynamic area of legal study and strengthen connections among national life science law scholars.
Loyola is currently soliciting 750-1,000 word abstracts reflecting early or mid-stage ideas for the purpose of workshopping with other conference scholars. Modeled after successful events for law professors and scholars in other areas, we will organize scholars in topical panels of three to five authors with approximately 15 minutes allotted to each abstract presentation, followed by 15 minutes of intensive discussion with scholar attendees. Author abstracts will be distributed one week prior to the conference to scholar participants; authors may also submit draft articles for distribution. Scholars are expected to review materials of fellow panel members.
The presentation characterizes the material and immaterial attributes of biobanks as knowledge resources, and it characterizes the broader questions that they pose as resource governance questions rather than as questions solely of law or of public policy. Biobanks are knowledge institutions. Professor Madison argues that despite the varied and diverse nature of biobanks today (indeed, precisely because of their diversity), their social and scientific importance dictates the need for a robust program of research of a comparative nature to identify shared features that contribute to their success (where they succeed) and features that likely contribute to problems or even failure. Both their importance and the associated governance challenges have only grown larger and more complex as biobanks meet the era of data science. In that regard Professor Madison points to emerging scholarly literature that focuses on governance challenges of material and data in biobank contexts, which builds on a knowledge commons governance framework. He concludes by suggesting directions for future work. Read More
The 21st Century Cures Act was passed with support from both sides of the aisle (imagine that!) and signed into law by then-President Obama late last year. This ambitious legislation drives action in areas as diverse as drug and device regulation and response to the opioid epidemic. It also tackles the issue of how to make data more broadly available for research use and clinical purposes. In our recently published GIM article, “Sharing data under the 21st Century Cures Act,” we examine the Act’s potential to facilitate data-sharing, in line with a recent position statement of the American College of Medical Genetics and Genomics. We highlight a number of provisions of the Act that either explicitly advance data-sharing or promote policy developments that have the potential to advance it. For example, Section 2014 of the Act authorizes the Director of National Institutes of Health to require award recipients to share data, and Section 4006 requires the Secretary of Health and Human Services to promote policies ensuring that patients have access to their electronic health information and are supported in sharing this information with others.
Just as relevant, the Act takes steps to reduce some major barriers to data sharing. An important feature of the Act, which has not been extensively publicized, is its incorporation of provisions from legislation originally proposed by Senators Elizabeth Warren and Mike Enzi to protect the identifiable, sensitive information of research subjects. Senator Warren, in particular, has been a vocal advocate of data sharing. Arguably, one of the biggest barriers to sharing is public concern about privacy. The relevant provisions address this concern chiefly via Certificates of Confidentiality. Among other things, the Act makes issuance of Certificates automatic for federally-funded research in which identifiable, sensitive information is collected and prohibits disclosure of identifiable, sensitive information by covered researchers, with only a few exceptions such as disclosure for purposes of other research. These protections became effective June 11, 2017. While NIH has signaled its awareness of the Act, it has not yet updated its Certificates of Confidentiality webpage. Read More
Ever wondered what happens to the biological material you leave behind when you check out of the hospital? Nothing much, is the usual answer. However, the little bits of blood, tissue, and urine are potentially valuable for medical research; miniscule amounts of it may already allow sophisticated analyses, including genetic ones. Thus, in an approach termed ‘healthcare-embedded biobanking’, healthcare providers have started collections of leftover patient materials to create resources for future research.
However, unlike traditional research, healthcare-embedded biobanking is not done with a clear research question in mind. The materials are simply left-overs from diagnosis or treatment and, at the time of collection, the scientific projects for which they may be used eventually are entirely unclear.
This approach leads to an ethical conundrum. Established research ethics frameworks found here and here require that patients be asked for their consent and that they are given all the information they need to make an informed decision about whether to donate their material (and its associated data) or not. This includes, in particular, the research goals as well as the potential benefits and risks. However, this provision of information is not possible in healthcare-embedded biobanking: the risks and benefits can only be described in very broad terms, and the goals and timing of future research are usually unknown. Indeed, the materials may even not be used at all. Read More
In January 1999, Scott McNealy, CEO of Sun Microsystems (now part of Oracle Corporation), announced that we should no longer be concerned with privacy, since consumers ‘have zero privacy anyway’ and should just ‘get over it.’ His argument, that in the era of information technology we have become unable to protect precisely what such technology relies on and delivers (information) has met the full spectrum of imaginable reactions – from outrage to enthusiastic endorsement. Many different cures have been proposed to treat at least the symptoms of the disease caused by the loss of privacy. Yet there is little disagreement concerning the diagnosis itself: privacy does not enjoy an enviable state of health. Recent emphasis on big data and their inescapable presence have only made the prognosis dimmer for the once cherished ‘right to be let alone’ – as Samuel D. Warren and justice Louis D. Brandeis famously defined privacy back in 1890.
Such a deteriorating outlook should sound especially alarming in the fields of healthcare and medical research. In such domains, professional norms of medical confidentiality have long ensured sufficient levels of privacy protection, accountability, and trust. Yet we are told that this may no longer be the case: sensitive, personal, health-related information – just like any other type of information – now comes in electronic formats, which makes it much more reachable than before, and increasingly difficult to protect. Imagine the consequences this may have in the case of genomic data – arguably one of the most sensitive forms of personal information. Should such information fall into the wrong hands, we may face harsh consequences ranging from discrimination to stigmatization, loss of insurance, and worse. To enjoy the right to genomic privacy, one has to be able to exercise some meaningful amount of control over who gets access to her genetic data, be adequately shielded from harms of the sort just mentioned, and yet retain the possibility of deciphering what’s written in her DNA for a variety of purposes – including, but not limited to, health-related ones. All this is undoubtedly demanding. All the more so now that we know how even apparently innocent and socially desirable uses, like genomic research employing anonymized DNA, are not immune from the threat of malicious re-identification.
In light of such considerations, one might be led to think that health privacy protection is a lost cause. In fact, one may go even further and argue that, all things considered, we shouldn’t worry too much about the decline of privacy. Having our sensitive data in a state of highly restricted accessibility, so the argument goes, prevents us from extracting medically valuable insight from those data and hinders medical discovery from which we may all benefit. Read More
This post is part of Bill of Health’s symposium on Critical Studies of Citizen Science in Biomedical Research. Challenging the lay-professional divide in portrayals of citizen science, Vanessa Heggie examines a case study of an expedition to the Antarctic in the 1950s, where participants were at once researchers, research subjects, experts, and technicians. Background on the symposium is here. You can call up all of the symposium contributions already published by clicking here.
The Antarctic environment poses plenty of challenges for scientists, but for those who need human participants there’s the additional problem of finding and recruiting ‘citizen scientists’. With no indigenous residents, the residents of the Antarctic are a carefully selected population, most of whom are already doing some form of scientific work and juggling multiple identities and roles. Radio operators take readings for meteorologists, geologists volunteer as guinea pigs for physiologists, and botanists collect rocks. There isn’t a clear divide between ‘scientist’ and ‘lay participant’; often human subjects, whether they’re collecting data or acting as human guinea-pigs, understand the principles of experimental design, and are able to give feedback about the experiment itself, not just the data generated. At what point do citizen scientists become experimental collaborators? And who gets left out of these relationships?Read More
How Patients Are Creating the Future of Medicine: Roundtable at the University of Minnesota
By Susan M. Wolf, JD (Chair, Consortium on Law and Values in Health, Environment & the Life Sciences; McKnight Presidential Professor of Law, Medicine & Public Policy; Faegre Baker Daniels Professor of Law; Professor of Medicine, University of Minnesota)
Citizen science, the use of mobile phones and other wearables in research, patient-created medical inventions, and the major role of participant-patients in the “All of Us” Precision Medicine Initiative are just a few of the indicators that a major shift in biomedical research and innovation is under way. Increasingly, patients, families, and the public are in the driver’s seat, setting research priorities and the terms on which their data and biospecimens can be used. Pioneers such as Sharon Terry at Genetic Alliance and Matthew Might at NGLY1.org have been forging a pathway to genuine partnership linking patients and researchers. But the legal and ethical questions remain daunting. How should this research be overseen? Should the same rules apply as in more conventional, academically driven research? What limits should apply to parental use of unvalidated treatments on children affected by severe, rare disease? And should online patient communities be able to set their own rules for research?
By Barbara J. Evans, MS, PhD, JD, LLM (Alumnae College Professor of Law; Director, Center on Biotechnology & Law, University of Houston)
This post is part of a series on how patients are creating the future of medicine. The introduction to the series is available here, and all posts in the series are available here.
The citizen science movement goes beyond merely letting people dabble in science projects. It involves giving regular people a voice in how science should be done. And citizen science calls for a new, citizen-led bioethics.
Twentieth-century bioethics was a top-down affair. Ethics experts and regulators set privacy and ethical standards to protect research subjects, who were portrayed as autonomous but too vulnerable and disorganized to protect themselves. The Common Rule’s informed consent right is basically an exit right: people can walk away from research if they dislike the study objectives or are uncomfortable with the privacy protections experts think are good for them. An exit right is not the same thing as having a voice with which to negotiate the purposes, terms, and conditions of research.