Beyond Henrietta Lacks: How the Law Has Denied Every American Ownership Rights to Their Own Cells
The common perception is that Henrietta Lacks was a victim of poverty and racism when in 1951 doctors took samples of her cervical cancer without her knowledge or permission and turned them into the world's first immortalized cell line, which they called HeLa. The cell line became a workhorse of biomedical research and facilitated the creation of medical treatments and cures worth untold billions of dollars. Neither Lacks nor her family ever received a penny of those riches.
But racism and poverty is not to blame for Lacks' exploitation—the reality is even worse. In fact all patients, then and now, regardless of social or economic status, have absolutely no right to cells that are taken from their bodies. Some have called this biological slavery.
How We Got Here
The case that established this legal precedent is Moore v. Regents of the University of California.
John Moore was diagnosed with hairy-cell leukemia in 1976 and his spleen was removed as part of standard treatment at the UCLA Medical Center. On initial examination his physician, David W. Golde, had discovered some unusual qualities to Moore's cells and made plans prior to the surgery to have the tissue saved for research rather than discarded as waste. That research began almost immediately.
"On both sides of the case, legal experts and cultural observers cautioned that ownership of a human body was the first step on the slippery slope to 'bioslavery.'"
Even after Moore moved to Seattle, Golde kept bringing him back to Los Angeles to collect additional samples of blood and tissue, saying it was part of his treatment. When Moore asked if the work could be done in Seattle, he was told no. Golde's charade even went so far as claiming to find a low-income subsidy to pay for Moore's flights and put him up in a ritzy hotel to get him to return to Los Angeles, while paying for those out of his own pocket.
Moore became suspicious when he was asked to sign new consent forms giving up all rights to his biological samples and he hired an attorney to look into the matter. It turned out that Golde had been lying to his patient all along; he had been collecting samples unnecessary to Moore's treatment and had turned them into a cell line that he and UCLA had patented and already collected millions of dollars in compensation. The market for the cell lines was estimated at $3 billion by 1990.
Moore felt he had been taken advantage of and filed suit to claim a share of the money that had been made off of his body. "On both sides of the case, legal experts and cultural observers cautioned that ownership of a human body was the first step on the slippery slope to 'bioslavery,'" wrote Priscilla Wald, a professor at Duke University whose career has focused on issues of medicine and culture. "Moore could be viewed as asking to commodify his own body part or be seen as the victim of the theft of his most private and inalienable information."
The case bounced around different levels of the court system with conflicting verdicts for nearly six years until the California Supreme Court ruled on July 9, 1990 that Moore had no legal rights to cells and tissue once they were removed from his body.
The court made a utilitarian argument that the cells had no value until scientists manipulated them in the lab. And it would be too burdensome for researchers to track individual donations and subsequent cell lines to assure that they had been ethically gathered and used. It would impinge on the free sharing of materials between scientists, slow research, and harm the public good that arose from such research.
"In effect, what Moore is asking us to do is impose a tort duty on scientists to investigate the consensual pedigree of each human cell sample used in research," the majority wrote. In other words, researchers don't need to ask any questions about the materials they are using.
One member of the court did not see it that way. In his dissent, Stanley Mosk raised the specter of slavery that "arises wherever scientists or industrialists claim, as defendants have here, the right to appropriate and exploit a patient's tissue for their sole economic benefit—the right, in other words, to freely mine or harvest valuable physical properties of the patient's body. … This is particularly true when, as here, the parties are not in equal bargaining positions."
Mosk also cited the appeals court decision that the majority overturned: "If this science has become for profit, then we fail to see any justification for excluding the patient from participation in those profits."
But the majority bought the arguments that Golde, UCLA, and the nascent biotechnology industry in California had made in amici briefs filed throughout the legal proceedings. The road was now cleared for them to develop products worth billions without having to worry about or share with the persons who provided the raw materials upon which their research was based.
Critical Views
Biomedical research requires a continuous and ever-growing supply of human materials for the foundation of its ongoing work. If an increasing number of patients come to feel as John Moore did, that the system is ripping them off, then they become much less likely to consent to use of their materials in future research.
Some legal and ethical scholars say that donors should be able to limit the types of research allowed for their tissues and researchers should be monitored to assure compliance with those agreements. For example, today it is commonplace for companies to certify that their clothing is not made by child labor, their coffee is grown under fair trade conditions, that food labeled kosher is properly handled. Should we ask any less of our pharmaceuticals than that the donors whose cells made such products possible have been treated honestly and fairly, and share in the financial bounty that comes from such drugs?
Protection of individual rights is a hallmark of the American legal system, says Lisa Ikemoto, a law professor at the University of California Davis. "Putting the needs of a generalized public over the interests of a few often rests on devaluation of the humanity of the few," she writes in a reimagined version of the Moore decision that upholds Moore's property claims to his excised cells. The commentary is in a chapter of a forthcoming book in the Feminist Judgment series, where authors may only use legal precedent in effect at the time of the original decision.
"Why is the law willing to confer property rights upon some while denying the same rights to others?" asks Radhika Rao, a professor at the University of California, Hastings College of the Law. "The researchers who invest intellectual capital and the companies and universities that invest financial capital are permitted to reap profits from human research, so why not those who provide the human capital in the form of their own bodies?" It might be seen as a kind of sweat equity where cash strapped patients make a valuable in kind contribution to the enterprise.
The Moore court also made a big deal about inhibiting the free exchange of samples between scientists. That has become much less the situation over the more than three decades since the decision was handed down. Ironically, this decision, as well as other laws and regulations, have since strengthened the power of patents in biomedicine and by doing so have increased secrecy and limited sharing.
"Although the research community theoretically endorses the sharing of research, in reality sharing is commonly compromised by the aggressive pursuit and defense of patents and by the use of licensing fees that hinder collaboration and development," Robert D. Truog, Harvard Medical School ethicist and colleagues wrote in 2012 in the journal Science. "We believe that measures are required to ensure that patients not bear all of the altruistic burden of promoting medical research."
Additionally, the increased complexity of research and the need for exacting standardization of materials has given rise to an industry that supplies certified chemical reagents, cell lines, and whole animals bred to have specific genetic traits to meet research needs. This has been more efficient for research and has helped to ensure that results from one lab can be reproduced in another.
The Court's rationale of fostering collaboration and free exchange of materials between researchers also has been undercut by the changing structure of that research. Big pharma has shrunk the size of its own research labs and over the last decade has worked out cooperative agreements with major research universities where the companies contribute to the research budget and in return have first dibs on any findings (and sometimes a share of patent rights) that come out of those university labs. It has had a chilling effect on the exchange of materials between universities.
Perhaps tracking cell line donors and use restrictions on those donations might have been burdensome to researchers when Moore was being litigated. Some labs probably still kept their cell line records on 3x5 index cards, computers were primarily expensive room-size behemoths with limited capacity, the internet barely existed, and there was no cloud storage.
But that was the dawn of a new technological age and standards have changed. Now cell lines are kept in state-of-the-art sub zero storage units, tagged with the source, type of tissue, date gathered and often other information. Adding a few more data fields and contacting the donor if and when appropriate does not seem likely to disrupt the research process, as the court asserted.
Forging the Future
"U.S. universities are awarded almost 3,000 patents each year. They earn more than $2 billion each year from patent royalties. Sharing a modest portion of these profits is a novel method for creating a greater sense of fairness in research relationships that we think is worth exploring," wrote Mark Yarborough, a bioethicist at the University of California Davis Medical School, and colleagues. That was penned nearly a decade ago and those numbers have only grown.
The Michigan BioTrust for Health might serve as a useful model in tackling some of these issues. Dried blood spots have been collected from all newborns for half a century to be tested for certain genetic diseases, but controversy arose when the huge archive of dried spots was used for other research projects. As a result, the state created a nonprofit organization to in essence become a biobank and manage access to these spots only for specific purposes, and also to share any revenue that might arise from that research.
"If there can be no property in a whole living person, does it stand to reason that there can be no property in any part of a living person? If there were, can it be said that this could equate to some sort of 'biological slavery'?" Irish ethicist Asim A. Sheikh wrote several years ago. "Any amount of effort spent pondering the issue of 'ownership' in human biological materials with existing law leaves more questions than answers."
Perhaps the biggest question will arise when -- not if but when -- it becomes possible to clone a human being. Would a human clone be a legal person or the property of those who created it? Current legal precedent points to it being the latter.
Today, October 4, is the 70th anniversary of Henrietta Lacks' death from cancer. Over those decades her immortalized cells have helped make possible miraculous advances in medicine and have had a role in generating billions of dollars in profits. Surviving family members have spoken many times about seeking a share of those profits in the name of social justice; they intend to file lawsuits today. Such cases will succeed or fail on their own merits. But regardless of their specific outcomes, one can hope that they spark a larger public discussion of the role of patients in the biomedical research enterprise and lead to establishing a legal and financial claim for their contributions toward the next generation of biomedical research.
Researchers Are Discovering How to Predict – and Maybe Treat — Pregnancy Complications Early On.
Katie Love wishes there was some way she could have been prepared. But there was no way to know, early in 2020, that her pregnancy would lead to terrifyingly high blood pressure and multiple hospital visits, ending in induced labor and a 56-hour-long, “nightmare” delivery at 37 weeks. Love, a social media strategist in Pittsburgh, had preeclampsia, a poorly understood and potentially deadly pregnancy complication that affects 1 in 25 pregnant women in the United States. But there was no blood test, no easy diagnostic marker to warn Love that this might happen. Even on her first visit to the emergency room, with sky-high blood pressure, doctors could not be certain preeclampsia was the cause.
In fact, the primary but imperfect indicators for preeclampsia — high blood pressure and protein in the urine — haven’t changed in decades. The Preeclampsia Foundation calls a simple, rapid test to predict or diagnose the condition “a key component needed in the fight.”
Another common pregnancy complication is preterm birth, which affects 1 in 10 U.S. pregnancies, but there are few options to predict that might happen, either.
“The best tool that obstetricians have at the moment is still a tape measure and a blood pressure cuff to diagnose whatever’s happening in your pregnancy,” says Fiona Kaper, a vice president at the DNA-sequencing company Illumina in San Diego.
The hunt for such specific biomarkers is now taking off, at Illumina and elsewhere, as scientists probe maternal blood for signs that could herald pregnancy problems. These same molecules offer clues that might lead to more specific treatments. So far, it’s clear that many complications start with the placenta, the temporary organ that transfers nutrients, oxygen and waste between mother and fetus, and that these problems often start well before symptoms arise. Researchers are using the latest stem-cell technology to better understand the causes of complications and test treatments.
Pressing Need
Obstetricians aren’t flying completely blind; medical history can point to high or low risk for pregnancy complications. But ultimately, “everybody who’s pregnant is at risk for preeclampsia,” says Sarosh Rana, chief of maternal-fetal medicine at University of Chicago Medicine and an advisor to the Preeclampsia Foundation. And the symptoms of the condition include problems like headache and swollen feet that overlap with those of pregnancy in general, complicating diagnoses.
The “holy grail" would be early, first-trimester biomarkers. If obstetricians and expecting parents could know, in the first few months of pregnancy, that preeclampsia is a risk, a pregnant woman could monitor her blood pressure at home and take-low dose aspirin that might stave it off.
There are a couple more direct tests physicians can turn to, but these are imperfect. For preterm labor, fetal fibronectin makes up a sort of glue that keeps the amniotic sac, which cushions the unborn baby, attached to the uterus. If it’s not present near a woman’s cervix, that’s a good indicator that she’s not in labor, and can be safely sent home, says Lauren Demosthenes, an obstetrician and senior medical director of the digital health company Babyscripts in Washington, D.C. But if fibronectin appears, it might or might not indicate preterm labor.
“What we want is a test that gives us a positive predictive [signal],” says Demosthenes. “I want to know, if I get it, is it really going to predict preterm birth, or is it just going to make us worry more and order more tests?” In fact, the fetal fibronectin test hasn’t been shown to improve pregnancy outcomes, and Demosthenes says it’s fallen out of favor in many clinics.
Similarly, there’s a blood test, based on the ratio of the amounts of two different proteins, that can rule out preeclampsia but not confirm it’s happening. It’s approved in many countries, though not the U.S.; studies are still ongoing. A positive test, which means “maybe preeclampsia,” still leaves doctors and parents-to-be facing excruciating decisions: If the mother’s life is in danger, delivering the baby can save her, but even a few more days in the uterus can promote the baby’s health. In Ireland, where the test is available, it’s not getting much use, says Patricia Maguire, director of the University College Dublin Institute for Discovery.
Maguire has identified proteins released by platelets that indicate pregnancy — the “most expensive pregnancy test in the world,” she jokes. She is now testing those markers in women with suspected preeclampsia.
The “holy grail,” says Maguire, would be early, first-trimester biomarkers. If obstetricians and expecting parents could know, in the first few months of pregnancy, that preeclampsia is a risk, a pregnant woman could monitor her blood pressure at home and take-low dose aspirin that might stave it off. Similarly, if a quick blood test indicated that preterm labor could happen, doctors could take further steps such as measuring the cervix and prescribing progesterone if it’s on the short side.
Biomarkers in Blood
It was fatherhood that drew Stephen Quake, a biophysicist at Stanford University in California, to the study of pregnancy biomarkers. His wife, pregnant with their first child in 2001, had a test called amniocentesis. That involves extracting a sample from within the uterus, using a 3–8-inch-long needle, for genetic testing. The test can identify genetic differences, such as Down syndrome, but also carries risks including miscarriage or infection. In this case, mom and baby were fine (Quake’s daughter is now a college student), but he found the diagnostic danger unacceptable.
Seeking a less invasive test, Quake in 2008 reported that there’s enough fetal DNA in the maternal bloodstream to diagnose Down syndrome and other genetic conditions. “Use of amniocentesis has plunged,” he says.
Then, recalling that his daughter was born three and a half weeks before her due date — and that Quake’s own mom claims he was a month late, which makes him think the due date must have been off — he started researching markers that could accurately assess a fetus’ age and predict the timing of labor. In this case, Quake was interested in RNA, not DNA, because it’s a signal of which genes the fetus’, placenta’s, and mother’s tissues are using to create proteins. Specifically, these are RNAs that have exited the cells that made them. Tissues can use such free RNAs as messages, wrapping them in membranous envelopes to travel the bloodstream to other body parts. Dying cells also release fragments containing RNAs. “A lot of information is in there,” says Kaper.
In a small study of 31 healthy pregnant women, published in 2018, Quake and collaborators discovered nine RNAs that could predict gestational age, which indicates due date, just as well as ultrasound. With another set of 38 women, including 13 who delivered early, the researchers discovered seven RNAs that predicted preterm labor up to two months in advance.
Quake notes that an RNA-based blood test is cheaper and more portable than ultrasound, so it might be useful in the developing world. A company he cofounded, Mirvie, Inc., is now analyzing RNA’s predictive value further, in thousands of diverse women. CEO and cofounder Maneesh Jain says that since preterm labor is so poorly understood, they’re sequencing RNAs that represent about 20,000 genes — essentially all the genes humans have — to find the very best biomarkers. “We don’t know enough about this field to guess what it might be,” he says. “We feel we’ve got to cast the net wide.”
Quake, and Mirvie, are now working on biomarkers for preeclampsia. In a recent preprint study, not yet reviewed by other experts, Quake’s Stanford team reported 18 RNAs that, measured before 16 weeks, correctly predicted preeclampsia 56–100% of the time.
Other researchers are taking a similar tack. Kaper’s team at Illumina was able to classify preeclampsia from bloodstream RNAs with 85 to 89% accuracy, though they didn’t attempt to predict it. And Louise Laurent, a maternal-fetal medicine specialist and researcher at the University of California, San Diego (UCSD), has defined several pairs of microRNAs — pint-sized RNAs that regulate other ones — in second-trimester blood samples that predict preeclampsia later on.
Placentas in a Dish
The RNAs that show up in these studies often come from genes used by the placenta. But they’re only signals that something’s wrong, not necessarily the root cause. “There still is not much known about what really causes major complications of pregnancy,” says Laurent.
The challenge is that placental problems likely occur early on, as the organ forms in the first trimester. For example, if the placenta did a poor job of building blood vessels through the uterine lining, it might cause preeclampsia later as the growing fetus tries to access more and more blood through insufficient vessels, leading to high blood pressure in the mother. “Everyone has kind of suspected that that is probably what goes wrong,” says Mana Parast, a pathologist and researcher at UCSD.
To see how a placenta first faltered, “you want to go back in time,” says Parast. It’s only recently become possible to do something akin to that: She and Laurent take cells from the umbilical cord (which is a genetic match for the placenta) at the end of pregnancy, and turn them into stem cells, which can become any kind of cell. They then nudge those stem cells to make new placenta cells in lab dishes. But when the researchers start with cells from an umbilical cord after preeclampsia, they find the stem cells struggle to even form proper placenta cells, or they develop abnormally. So yes, something seems to go wrong right at the beginning. Now, the team plans to use these cell cultures to study the microRNAs that indicate preeclampsia risk, and to look for medications that might reverse the problems, Parast says.
Biomarkers could lead to treatments. For example, one of the proteins that commercial preeclampsia diagnostic kits test for is called soluble Flt-1. It’s a sort of anti-growth factor, explains Rana, that can cause problems with blood vessels and thus high blood pressure. Getting rid of the extra Flt-1, then, might alleviate symptoms and keep the mother safe, giving the baby more time to develop. Indeed, a small trial that filtered this protein from the blood did lower blood pressure, allowing participants to keep their babies inside for a couple of weeks longer, researchers reported in 2011.
For pregnant women like Love, even advance warning would have been beneficial. Laurent and others envision a first-trimester blood test that would use different kinds of biomolecules — RNAs, proteins, whatever works best — to indicate whether a pregnancy is at low, medium, or high risk for common complications.
“I prefer to be prepared,” says Love, now the mother of a healthy little girl. “I just wouldn’t have been so thrown off by the whole thing.”
Dec. 17th Event: The Latest on Omicron, Boosters, and Immunity
This virtual event will convene leading scientific and medical experts to discuss the most pressing questions around the new Omicron variant, including what we know so far about its ability to evade COVID-19 vaccines, the role of boosters in eliciting heightened immunity, and the science behind variants and vaccines. A public Q&A will follow the expert discussion.
EVENT INFORMATION:
Date: Friday Dec 17, 2021
2:00pm - 3:30pm EST
Dr. Céline Gounder, MD, ScM, is the CEO/President/Founder of Just Human Productions, a non-profit multimedia organization. She is also the host and producer of American Diagnosis, a podcast on health and social justice, and Epidemic, a podcast about infectious disease epidemics and pandemics. She served on the Biden-Harris Transition COVID-19 Advisory Board.
Dr. Theodora Hatziioannou, Ph.D., is a Research Associate Professor in the Laboratory of Retrovirology at The Rockefeller University. Her research includes identifying plasma samples from recovered COVID-19 patients that contain antibodies capable of neutralizing the SARS-CoV-2 coronavirus.
Dr. Onyema Ogbuagu, MBBCh, is an Associate Professor at Yale School of Medicine and an infectious disease specialist who treats COVID-19 patients and leads Yale’s clinical studies around COVID-19. He ran Yale’s trial of the Pfizer/BioNTech vaccine.
Dr. Eric Topol, M.D., is a cardiologist, scientist, professor of molecular medicine, and the director and founder of Scripps Research Translational Institute. He has led clinical trials in over 40 countries with over 200,000 patients and pioneered the development of many routinely used medications.
This event is the fourth of a four-part series co-hosted by Leaps.org, the Aspen Institute Science & Society Program, and the Sabin–Aspen Vaccine Science & Policy Group, with generous support from the Gordon and Betty Moore Foundation and the Howard Hughes Medical Institute.
Kira Peikoff was the editor-in-chief of Leaps.org from 2017 to 2021. As a journalist, her work has appeared in The New York Times, Newsweek, Nautilus, Popular Mechanics, The New York Academy of Sciences, and other outlets. She is also the author of four suspense novels that explore controversial issues arising from scientific innovation: Living Proof, No Time to Die, Die Again Tomorrow, and Mother Knows Best. Peikoff holds a B.A. in Journalism from New York University and an M.S. in Bioethics from Columbia University. She lives in New Jersey with her husband and two young sons. Follow her on Twitter @KiraPeikoff.