Bad Actors Getting Your Health Data Is the FBI’s Latest Worry
In February 2015, the health insurer Anthem revealed that criminal hackers had gained access to the company's servers, exposing the personal information of nearly 79 million patients. It's the largest known healthcare breach in history.
FBI agents worry that the vast amounts of healthcare data being generated for precision medicine efforts could leave the U.S. vulnerable to cyber and biological attacks.
That year, the data of millions more would be compromised in one cyberattack after another on American insurers and other healthcare organizations. In fact, for the past several years, the number of reported data breaches has increased each year, from 199 in 2010 to 344 in 2017, according to a September 2018 analysis in the Journal of the American Medical Association.
The FBI's Edward You sees this as a worrying trend. He says hackers aren't just interested in your social security or credit card number. They're increasingly interested in stealing your medical information. Hackers can currently use this information to make fake identities, file fraudulent insurance claims, and order and sell expensive drugs and medical equipment. But beyond that, a new kind of cybersecurity threat is around the corner.
Mr. You and others worry that the vast amounts of healthcare data being generated for precision medicine efforts could leave the U.S. vulnerable to cyber and biological attacks. In the wrong hands, this data could be used to exploit or extort an individual, discriminate against certain groups of people, make targeted bioweapons, or give another country an economic advantage.
Precision medicine, of course, is the idea that medical treatments can be tailored to individuals based on their genetics, environment, lifestyle or other traits. But to do that requires collecting and analyzing huge quantities of health data from diverse populations. One research effort, called All of Us, launched by the U.S. National Institutes of Health last year, aims to collect genomic and other healthcare data from one million participants with the goal of advancing personalized medical care.
Other initiatives are underway by academic institutions and healthcare organizations. Electronic medical records, genetic tests, wearable health trackers, mobile apps, and social media are all sources of valuable healthcare data that a bad actor could potentially use to learn more about an individual or group of people.
"When you aggregate all of that data together, that becomes a very powerful profile of who you are," Mr. You says.
A supervisory special agent in the biological countermeasures unit within the FBI's weapons of mass destruction directorate, it's Mr. You's job to imagine worst-case bioterror scenarios and figure out how to prevent and prepare for them.
That used to mean focusing on threats like anthrax, Ebola, and smallpox—pathogens that could be used to intentionally infect people—"basically the dangerous bugs," as he puts it. In recent years, advances in gene editing and synthetic biology have given rise to fears that rogue, or even well-intentioned, scientists could create a virulent virus that's intentionally, or unintentionally, released outside the lab.
"If a foreign source, especially a criminal one, has your biological information, then they might have some particular insights into what your future medical needs might be and exploit that."
While Mr. You is still tracking those threats, he's been traveling around the country talking to scientists, lawyers, software engineers, cyber security professionals, government officials and CEOs about new security threats—those posed by genetic and other biological data.
Emerging threats
Mr. You says one possible situation he can imagine is the potential for nefarious actors to use an individual's sensitive medical information to extort or blackmail that person.
"If a foreign source, especially a criminal one, has your biological information, then they might have some particular insights into what your future medical needs might be and exploit that," he says. For instance, "what happens if you have a singular medical condition and an outside entity says they have a treatment for your condition?" You could get talked into paying a huge sum of money for a treatment that ends up being bogus.
Or what if hackers got a hold of a politician or high-profile CEO's health records? Say that person had a disease-causing genetic mutation that could affect their ability to carry out their job in the future and hackers threatened to expose that information. These scenarios may seem far-fetched, but Mr. You thinks they're becoming increasingly plausible.
On a wider scale, Kavita Berger, a scientist at Gryphon Scientific, a Washington, D.C.-area life sciences consulting firm, worries that data from different populations could be used to discriminate against certain groups of people, like minorities and immigrants.
For instance, the advocacy group Human Rights Watch in 2017 flagged a concerning trend in China's Xinjiang territory, a region with a history of government repression. Police there had purchased 12 DNA sequencers and were collecting and cataloging DNA samples from people to build a national database.
"The concern is that this particular province has a huge population of the Muslim minority in China," Ms. Berger says. "Now they have a really huge database of genetic sequences. You have to ask, why does a police station need 12 next-generation sequencers?"
Also alarming is the potential that large amounts of data from different groups of people could lead to customized bioweapons if that data ends up in the wrong hands.
Eleonore Pauwels, a research fellow on emerging cybertechnologies at United Nations University's Centre for Policy Research, says new insights gained from genomic and other data will give scientists a better understanding of how diseases occur and why certain people are more susceptible to certain diseases.
"As you get more and more knowledge about the genomic picture and how the microbiome and the immune system of different populations function, you could get a much deeper understanding about how you could target different populations for treatment but also how you could eventually target them with different forms of bioagents," Ms. Pauwels says.
Economic competitiveness
Another reason hackers might want to gain access to large genomic and other healthcare datasets is to give their country a leg up economically. Many large cyber-attacks on U.S. healthcare organizations have been tied to Chinese hacking groups.
"This is a biological space race and we just haven't woken up to the fact that we're in this race."
"It's becoming clear that China is increasingly interested in getting access to massive data sets that come from different countries," Ms. Pauwels says.
A year after U.S. President Barack Obama conceived of the Precision Medicine Initiative in 2015—later renamed All of Us—China followed suit, announcing the launch of a 15-year, $9 billion precision health effort aimed at turning China into a global leader in genomics.
Chinese genomics companies, too, are expanding their reach outside of Asia. One company, WuXi NextCODE, which has offices in Shanghai, Reykjavik, and Cambridge, Massachusetts, has built an extensive library of genomes from the U.S., China and Iceland, and is now setting its sights on Ireland.
Another Chinese company, BGI, has partnered with Children's Hospital of Philadelphia and Sinai Health System in Toronto, and also formed a collaboration with the Smithsonian Institute to sequence all species on the planet. BGI has built its own advanced genomic sequencing machines to compete with U.S.-based Illumina.
Mr. You says having access to all this data could lead to major breakthroughs in healthcare, such as new blockbuster drugs. "Whoever has the largest, most diverse dataset is truly going to win the day and come up with something very profitable," he says.
Some direct-to-consumer genetic testing companies with offices in the U.S., like Dante Labs, also use BGI to process customers' DNA.
Experts worry that China could race ahead the U.S. in precision medicine because of Chinese laws governing data sharing. Currently, China prohibits the exportation of genetic data without explicit permission from the government. Mr. You says this creates an asymmetry in data sharing between the U.S. and China.
"This is a biological space race and we just haven't woken up to the fact that we're in this race," he said in January at an American Society for Microbiology conference in Washington, D.C. "We don't have access to their data. There is absolutely no reciprocity."
Protecting your data
While Mr. You has been stressing the importance of data security to anyone who will listen, the National Academies of Sciences, Engineering, and Medicine, which makes scientific and policy recommendations on issues of national importance, has commissioned a study on "safeguarding the bioeconomy."
In the meantime, Ms. Berger says organizations that deal with people's health data should assess their security risks and identify potential vulnerabilities in their systems.
As for what individuals can do to protect themselves, she urges people to think about the different ways they're sharing healthcare data—such as via mobile health apps and wearables.
"Ask yourself, what's the benefit of sharing this? What are the potential consequences of sharing this?" she says.
Mr. You also cautions people to think twice before taking consumer DNA tests. They may seem harmless, he says, but at the end of the day, most people don't know where their genetic information is going. "If your genetic sequence is taken, once it's gone, it's gone. There's nothing you can do about it."
Trading syphilis for malaria: How doctors treated one deadly disease by infecting patients with another
If you had lived one hundred years ago, syphilis – a bacterial infection spread by sexual contact – would likely have been one of your worst nightmares. Even though syphilis still exists, it can now be detected early and cured quickly with a course of antibiotics. Back then, however, before antibiotics and without an easy way to detect the disease, syphilis was very often a death sentence.
To understand how feared syphilis once was, it’s important to understand exactly what it does if it’s allowed to progress: the infections start off as small, painless sores or even a single sore near the vagina, penis, anus, or mouth. The sores disappear around three to six weeks after the initial infection – but untreated, syphilis moves into a secondary stage, often presenting as a mild rash in various areas of the body (such as the palms of a person’s hands) or through other minor symptoms. The disease progresses from there, often quietly and without noticeable symptoms, sometimes for decades before it reaches its final stages, where it can cause blindness, organ damage, and even dementia. Research indicates, in fact, that as much as 10 percent of psychiatric admissions in the early 20th century were due to dementia caused by syphilis, also known as neurosyphilis.
Like any bacterial disease, syphilis can affect kids, too. Though it’s spread primarily through sexual contact, it can also be transmitted from mother to child during birth, causing lifelong disability.
The poet-physician Aldabert Bettman, who wrote fictionalized poems based on his experiences as a doctor in the 1930s, described the effect syphilis could have on an infant in his poem Daniel Healy:
I always got away clean
when I went out
With the boys.
The night before
I was married
I went out,—But was not so fortunate;
And I infected
My bride.
When little Daniel
Was born
His eyes discharged;
And I dared not tell
That because
I had seen too much
Little Daniel sees not at all
Given the horrors of untreated syphilis, it’s maybe not surprising that people would go to extremes to try and treat it. One of the earliest remedies for syphilis, dating back to 15th century Naples, was using mercury – either rubbing it on the skin where blisters appeared, or breathing it in as a vapor. (Not surprisingly, many people who underwent this type of “treatment” died of mercury poisoning.)
Other primitive treatments included using tinctures made of a flowering plant called guaiacum, as well as inducing “sweat baths” to eliminate the syphilitic toxins. In 1910, an arsenic-based drug called Salvarsan hit the market and was hailed as a “magic bullet” for its ability to target and destroy the syphilis-causing bacteria without harming the patient. However, while Salvarsan was effective in treating early-stage syphilis, it was largely ineffective by the time the infection progressed beyond the second stage. Tens of thousands of people each year continued to die of syphilis or were otherwise shipped off to psychiatric wards due to neurosyphilis.
It was in one of these psychiatric units in the early 20th century that Dr. Julius Wagner-Juaregg got the idea for a potential cure.
Wagner-Juaregg was an Austrian-born physician trained in “experimental pathology” at the University of Vienna. Wagner-Juaregg started his medical career conducting lab experiments on animals and then moved on to work at different psychiatric clinics in Vienna, despite having no training in psychiatry or neurology.
Wagner-Juaregg’s work was controversial to say the least. At the time, medicine – particularly psychiatric medicine – did not have anywhere near the same rigorous ethical standards that doctors, researchers, and other scientists are bound to today. Wagner-Juaregg would devise wild theories about the cause of their psychiatric ailments and then perform experimental procedures in an attempt to cure them. (As just one example, Wagner-Juaregg would sterilize his adolescent male patients, thinking “excessive masturbation” was the cause of their schizophrenia.)
But sometimes these wild theories paid off. In 1883, during his residency, Wagner-Juaregg noted that a female patient with mental illness who had contracted a skin infection and suffered a high fever experienced a sudden (and seemingly miraculous) remission from her psychosis symptoms after the fever had cleared. Wagner-Juaregg theorized that inducing a high fever in his patients with neurosyphilis could help them recover as well.
Eventually, Wagner-Juaregg was able to put his theory to the test. Around 1890, Wagner-Juaregg got his hands on something called tuberculin, a therapeutic treatment created by the German microbiologist Robert Koch in order to cure tuberculosis. Tuberculin would later turn out to be completely ineffective for treating tuberculosis, often creating severe immune responses in patients – but for a short time, Wagner-Juaregg had some success in using tuberculin to help his dementia patients. Giving his patients tuberculin resulted in a high fever – and after completing the treatment, Wagner-Jauregg reported that his patient’s dementia was completely halted. The success was short-lived, however: Wagner-Juaregg eventually had to discontinue tuberculin as a treatment, as it began to be considered too toxic.
By 1917, Wagner-Juaregg’s theory about syphilis and fevers was becoming more credible – and one day a new opportunity presented itself when a wounded soldier, stricken with malaria and a related fever, was accidentally admitted to his psychiatric unit.
When his findings were published in 1918, Wagner-Juaregg’s so-called “fever therapy” swept the globe.
What Wagner-Juaregg did next was ethically deplorable by any standard: Before he allowed the soldier any quinine (the standard treatment for malaria at the time), Wagner-Juaregg took a small sample of the soldier’s blood and inoculated three syphilis patients with the sample, rubbing the blood on their open syphilitic blisters.
It’s unclear how well the malaria treatment worked for those three specific patients – but Wagner-Juaregg’s records show that in the span of one year, he inoculated a total of nine patients with malaria, for the sole purpose of inducing fevers, and six of them made a full recovery. Wagner-Juaregg’s treatment was so successful, in fact, that one of his inoculated patients, an actor who was unable to work due to his dementia, was eventually able to find work again and return to the stage. Two additional patients – a military officer and a clerk – recovered from their once-terminal illnesses and returned to their former careers as well.
When his findings were published in 1918, Wagner-Juaregg’s so-called “fever therapy” swept the globe. The treatment was hailed as a breakthrough – but it still had risks. Malaria itself had a mortality rate of about 15 percent at the time. Many people considered that to be a gamble worth taking, compared to dying a painful, protracted death from syphilis.
Malaria could also be effectively treated much of the time with quinine, whereas other fever-causing illnesses were not so easily treated. Triggering a fever by way of malaria specifically, therefore, became the standard of care.
Tens of thousands of people with syphilitic dementia would go on to be treated with fever therapy until the early 1940s, when a combination of Salvarsan and penicillin caused syphilis infections to decline. Eventually, neurosyphilis became rare, and then nearly unheard of.
Despite his contributions to medicine, it’s important to note that Wagner-Juaregg was most definitely not a person to idolize. In fact, he was an outspoken anti-Semite and proponent of eugenics, arguing that Jews were more prone to mental illness and that people who were mentally ill should be forcibly sterilized. (Wagner-Juaregg later became a Nazi sympathizer during Hitler’s rise to power even though, bizarrely, his first wife was Jewish.) Another problematic issue was that his fever therapy involved experimental treatments on many who, due to their cognitive issues, could not give informed consent.
Lack of consent was also a fundamental problem with the syphilis study at Tuskegee, appalling research that began just 14 years after Wagner-Juaregg published his “fever therapy” findings.
Still, despite his outrageous views, Wagner-Juaregg was awarded the Nobel Prize in Medicine or Physiology in 1927 – and despite some egregious human rights abuses, the miraculous “fever therapy” was partly responsible for taming one of the deadliest plagues in human history.
Talaris Therapeutics, Inc., a biotech company based in Louisville, Ky., is edging closer to eradicating the need for immunosuppressive drugs for kidney transplant patients.
In a series of research trials, Talaris is infusing patients with immune system stem cells from their kidney donor to create a donor-derived immune system that accepts the organ without the need for anti-rejection medications. That newly generated system does not attack other parts of the recipient’s body and also fights off infections and diseases as a healthy immune system would.
Talaris is now moving into the final clinical trial, phase III, before submitting for FDA approval. Known as Freedom-1, this trial has 17 sites open throughout the U.S., and Talaris will enroll a total of 120 kidney transplant recipients. One day after receiving their donor’s kidney, 80 people will undergo the company’s therapy, involving the donor’s stem cells and other critical cells that are processed at their facility. Forty will have a regular kidney transplant and remain on immunosuppression to provide a control group.
“The beauty of this procedure is that I don’t have to take all of the anti-rejection drugs,” says Robert Waddell, a finance professional. “I forget that I ever had any kidney issues. That’s how impactful it is.”
The procedure was pioneered decades ago by Suzanne Ildstad as a faculty member at the University of Pittsburgh before she became founding CEO of Talaris and then its Chief Scientific Officer. If approved by the FDA, the method could soon become the standard of care for patients in need of a kidney transplant.
“We are working to find a way to reprogram the immune system of transplant recipients so that it sees the donated organ as [belonging to one]self and doesn’t attack it,” explains Scott Requadt, CEO of Talaris. “That obviates the need for lifelong immunosuppression.”
Each year, there are roughly 20,000 kidney transplants, making kidneys the most transplanted organ. About 6,500 of those come from living donors, while deceased donors provide roughly 13,000.
One of the challenges, Requadt points out, is that kidney transplant recipients aren’t always aware of all the implications of immunosuppression. Typically, they will need to take about 20 anti-rejection drugs several times a day to provide immunosuppression as well as treat complications caused by the toxicities of immunosuppression medications. The side effects of chronic immunosuppression include weight gain, high blood pressure, and high cholesterol. These cardiovascular comorbidities, Requadt says, are “often more frequently the cause of death than failure of a transplanted organ.”
Patients who are chronically immunosuppressed generally have much higher rates of infections and cancers that have an immune component to them, such as skin cancers.
For the past couple of years, those patients have experienced heightened anxiety because of the COVID-19 pandemic. Immune-suppressing medicine used to protect their new organ also makes it hard for patients to build immunity to foreign invaders like COVID-19.
A study appearing in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences found the probability of a pandemic with similar impact to COVID-19 is about 2 percent in any year, and estimated that the probability of novel disease outbreaks will grow three-fold in the next few decades. All the more reason to identify an FDA-approved alternative to harsh immunosuppressive drugs.
Of the 18 patients during the phase II research trial who received the Talaris therapy, didn’t take immunosuppression medication and were vaccinated, only two ended up with a COVID infection, according to a review of the data. Among patients who needed to continue taking immunosuppressants or those who didn’t have them but were unvaccinated, the rates of infection were between 40 and 60 percent.
In the earlier phase II study by Talaris with 37 patients, the combined transplantation approach allowed 70 percent of patients to get off all immunosuppression.
“We’ve followed that whole cohort for more than six and a half years and one of them for 12 years from transplant, and every single patient that we got off immunosuppression has been able to stay off,” Requadt says.
That one patient, Robert Waddell, 55, was especially thankful to be weaned off immunosuppressive drugs approximately one year after his transplant procedure. The Louisville resident had long watched his mother, sister and other family members with polycystic kidney disease, or PKD, suffer the effects of chronic immunosuppression. That became his greatest fear when he was diagnosed with end stage renal failure.
Waddell enrolled in the phase II research taking place in Louisville after learning about it in early 2006. He chose to remain in the study when it relocated its clinical headquarters to Northwestern University’s medical center in Chicago a couple years later.
Before surgery, he underwent an enervating regimen of chemotherapy and radiation. It’s required to clear out a patient’s bone marrow cells so that they can be replaced by the donor’s cells. Waddell says the result was worth it: he had his combined kidney and immune system stem cell transplant in May 2009, without any need for chronic immunosuppression.
“I call it ‘short-term pain, long-term gain,’ because it was difficult to go through the conditioning, but after that, it was great,” he says. “I’ve talked to so many kidney recipients who say, ‘I wish I would have done that,’ because most people don’t think about clinical trials, but I was very fortunate.”
Waddell has every reason to support the success of this research, especially given the genetic disorder, PKD, that has plagued his family. One of his four children has PKD. He is anxious for the procedure to become standard of care, if and when his son needs it.
The Talaris procedure was pioneered decades ago by Suzanne Ildstad, founding CEO of Talaris and the company's Chief Scientific Officer, pictured here with the current CEO, Scott Requadt.
Talaris
“The beauty of this procedure is that I don’t have to take all of the anti-rejection drugs,” says Waddell, a finance professional. “I forget that I ever had any kidney issues. That’s how impactful it is.”
Talaris will continue to follow Waddell and the rest of his cohort to track the effectiveness and safety of the procedure. According to Requadt, the average life of a transplanted kidney is 12 to 15 years, partly because the immunosuppressive drugs worsen the functioning of the organ each year.
“We were the first group to show that we could robustly and fairly reproducibly do this in a clinical setting in humans,” Requadt says. “Most important, we’ve been able to show that we can still get a good engraftment of the stem cells from the donor, even if there is a profound…mismatch between the donor and the recipient’s immune systems.”
In kidney transplantation, it’s important to match for human leukocyte antigens (HLA) because there is a better graft survival in HLA-identical kidney transplants compared with HLA mismatched transplants.
About three months after the transplant, Talaris researchers look for evidence that the donated immune cells and stem cells have engrafted, while making a donor immune system for the patient. If more than 50 percent of the T cells contain the donor’s DNA after six months, patients can start taking fewer immunosuppressants.
“We know from phase II that in our patients who were able to tolerize [accept the organ without rejection] to their donated organ, we saw completely preserved and in fact slightly increased kidney function,” Requadt says. “So, it stands to reason that if you eliminate the drugs that are associated with declining kidney function that you would preserve kidney function, so hopefully the patient will have that one kidney for life.”
Matthew Cooper, director of kidney and pancreas transplantation for MedStar Georgetown Transplant Institute in Washington, DC, states that, “Right now, the Achilles’ heel is we have such a long waiting list and few donors that people die every day waiting for a kidney transplant. Eventually, we will eliminate the organ shortage so that people won’t die from organ failure.”
Cooper, a nationally recognized clinical transplant surgeon for 20 years, says when he started his career, finding a way for patients to forgo immunosuppression was considered “the Holy Grail” of modern transplant medicine.
“Now that we’ve got the protocols in place and some personal examples of how that can happen, it’s pretty exciting to see that all coming together,” he adds.