Why Don’t We Have Artificial Wombs for Premature Infants?
Ectogenesis, the development of a baby outside of the mother's body, is a concept that dates back to 1923. That year, British biochemist-geneticist J.B.S. Haldane gave a lecture to the "Heretics Society" of the University of Cambridge in which he predicted the invention of an artificial womb by 1960, leading to 70 percent of newborns being born that way by the 2070s. In reality, that's about when an artificial womb could be clinically operational, but trends in science and medicine suggest that such technology would come in increments, each fraught with ethical and social challenges.
An extra-uterine support device could be ready for clinical trials in humans in the next two to four years, with hopes that it could improve survival of very premature infants.
Currently, one major step is in the works, a system called an extra-uterine support device (EUSD) –or sometimes Ex-Vivo uterine Environment (EVE)– which researchers at the Children's Hospital of Philadelphia have been using to support fetal lambs outside the mother. It also has been called an artificial placenta, because it supplies nutrient- and oxygen-rich blood to the developing lambs via the umbilical vein and receives blood full of waste products through the umbilical arteries. It does not do everything that a natural placenta does, yet it does do some things that a placenta doesn't do. It breathes for the fetus like the mother's lungs, and encloses the fetus in sterile fluid, just like the amniotic sac. It represents a solution to one set of technical challenges in the path to an artificial womb, namely how to keep oxygen flowing into a fetus and carbon dioxide flowing out when the fetal lungs are not ready to function.
Capable of supporting fetal lambs physiologically equivalent to a human fetus at 23 weeks' gestation or earlier, the EUSD could be ready for clinical trials in humans in the next two to four years, with hopes that it could improve survival of very premature infants. Existing medical technology can keep human infants alive when born in this 23-week range, or even slightly less —the record is just below 22 weeks. But survival is low, because most of the treatment is directed at the lungs, the last major body system to mature to a functional status. This leads to complications not only in babies born before 24 weeks' gestation, but also in a fairly large number of births up to 28 weeks' gestation.
So, the EUSD is basically an advanced neonatal life support machine that beckons to square off the survival curve for infants born up to the 28th week. That is no doubt a good thing, but given the political prominence of reproductive issues, might any societal obstacles be looming?
"While some may argue that the EUSD system will shift the definition of viability to a point prior to the maturation of the fetus' lungs, ethical and legal frameworks must still recognize the mother's privacy rights as paramount."
Health care attorney and clinical ethicist David N. Hoffman points out that even though the EUSD may shift the concept of fetal viability away from the maturity of developing lungs, it would not change the current relationship of the fetus to the mother during pregnancy.
"Our social and legal frameworks, including Roe v. Wade, invite the view of the embryo-fetus as resembling a parasite. Not in a negative sense, but functionally, since it obtains its life support from the mother, while she does not need the fetus for her own physical health," notes Hoffman, who holds faculty appointments at Columbia University, and at the Benjamin N. Cardozo School of Law and the Albert Einstein College of Medicine, of Yeshiva University. "In contrast, our ethical conception of the relationship is grounded in the nurturing responsibility of parenthood. We prioritize the welfare of both mother and fetus ethically, but we lean toward the side of the mother's legal rights, regarding her health throughout pregnancy, and her right to control her womb for most of pregnancy. While some may argue that the EUSD system will shift the definition of viability to a point prior to the maturation of the fetus' lungs, ethical and legal frameworks must still recognize the mother's privacy rights as paramount, on the basis of traditional notions of personhood and parenthood."
Outside of legal frameworks, religion, of course, is a major factor in how society reacts to new reproductive technologies, and an artificial womb would trigger a spectrum of responses.
"Significant numbers of conservative Christians may oppose an artificial womb in fear that it might harm the central role of marriage in Christianity."
Speaking from the perspective of Lutheran scholarship, Dr. Daniel Deen, Assistant Professor of Philosophy at Concordia University in Irvine, Calif., does not foresee any objections to the EUSD, either theologically, or generally from Lutherans (who tend to be conservative on reproductive issues), since the EUSD is basically an improvement on current management of prematurity. But things would change with the advent of a full-blown artificial womb.
"Significant numbers of conservative Christians may oppose an artificial womb in fear that it might harm the central role of marriage in Christianity," says Deen, who specializes in the philosophy of science. "They may see the artificial womb as a catalyst for strengthening the mechanistic view of reproduction that dominates the thinking of secular society, and of other religious groups, including more liberal Christians."
Judaism, however, appears to be more receptive, even during the research phases.
"Even if researchers strive for a next-generation EUSD aimed at supporting a fetus several weeks earlier than possible with the current system, it still keeps the fetus inside the mother well beyond the 40-day threshold, so there likely are no concerns in terms of Jewish law," says Kalman Laufer, a rabbinical student and executive director of the Medical Ethics Society at Yeshiva University. Referring to a concept from the Babylonian Talmud that an embryo is "like water" until 40 days into pregnancy, at which time it receives a kind of almost-human status warranting protection, Laufer cautions that he's speaking about artificial wombs developed for the sake of rescuing very premature infants. At the same time though, he expects that artificial womb research will eventually trigger a series of complex, legalistic opinions from Jewish scholars, as biotechnology moves further toward supporting fetal growth entirely outside a woman's body.
"Since [the EUSD] gives some justification to end abortion, by transferring fetuses from mother to machine, conservatives will probably rally around it."
While the technology treads into uncomfortable territory for social conservatives at first glance, it's possible that the prospect of taking the abortion debate in a whole new direction could engender support for the artificial womb. "Since [the EUSD] gives some justification to end abortion, by transferring fetuses from mother to machine, conservatives will probably rally around it," says Zoltan Istvan, a transhumanist politician and journalist who ran for U.S. president in 2016. To some extent, Deen agrees with Istvan, provided we get to a point when the artificial womb is already a reality.
"The world has a way of moving forward despite the fear of its inhabitants," Deen notes. "If the technology gets developed, I could not see any Christians, liberal or conservative, arguing that people seeking abortion ought not opt for a 'transfer' versus an abortive procedure."
So then how realistic is a full-blown artificial womb? The researchers at the Children's Hospital of Philadelphia have noted various technical difficulties that would come up in any attempt to connect a very young fetus to the EUSD and maintain life. One issue is the small umbilical cord blood vessels that must be connected to the EUSD as fetuses of decreasing gestational age are moved outside the mother. Current procedures might be barely adequate for integrating a human fetus into the device in the 18 -21 week range, but going to lower gestational ages would require new technology and different strategies. It also would require numerous other factors to cover for fetal body systems that mature ahead of the lungs and that the current EUSD system is not designed to replace. However, biotechnology and tissue engineering strategies on the horizon could be added to later EUSDs. To address the blood vessel size issue, artificial womb research could benefit by drawing on experts in microfluidics, the field concerned with manipulation of tiny amounts of fluid through very small spaces, and which is ushering in biotech innovations like the "lab on a chip".
"The artificial womb might put fathers on equal footing with mothers, since any embryo could potentially achieve personhood without ever seeing the inside of a woman's uterus."
If the technical challenges to an artificial womb are indeed overcome, reproductive policy debates could be turned on their side.
"Evolution of the EUSD into a full-blown artificial external uterus has ramifications for any reproductive rights issues where policy currently assumes that a mother is needed for a fertilized egg to become a person," says Hoffman, the ethicist and legal scholar. "If we consider debates over whether to keep cryopreserved human embryos in storage, destroy them, or utilize them for embryonic stem cell research or therapies, the artificial womb might put fathers on equal footing with mothers, since any embryo could potentially achieve personhood without ever seeing the inside of a woman's uterus."
Such a scenario, of course, depends on today's developments not being curtailed or sidetracked by societal objections before full-blown ectogenesis is feasible. But if this does ever become a reality, the history of other biotechnologies suggests that some segment of society will embrace the new innovation and never look back.
Gene therapy helps restore teen’s vision for first time
Story by Freethink
For the first time, a topical gene therapy — designed to heal the wounds of people with “butterfly skin disease” — has been used to restore a person’s vision, suggesting a new way to treat genetic disorders of the eye.
The challenge: Up to 125,000 people worldwide are living with dystrophic epidermolysis bullosa (DEB), an incurable genetic disorder that prevents the body from making collagen 7, a protein that helps strengthen the skin and other connective tissues.Without collagen 7, the skin is incredibly fragile — the slightest friction can lead to the formation of blisters and scarring, most often in the hands and feet, but in severe cases, also the eyes, mouth, and throat.
This has earned DEB the nickname of “butterfly skin disease,” as people with it are said to have skin as delicate as a butterfly’s wings.
The gene therapy: In May 2023, the FDA approved Vyjuvek, the first gene therapy to treat DEB.
Vyjuvek uses an inactivated herpes simplex virus to deliver working copies of the gene for collagen 7 to the body’s cells. In small trials, 65 percent of DEB-caused wounds sprinkled with it healed completely, compared to just 26 percent of wounds treated with a placebo.
“It was like looking through thick fog.” -- Antonio Vento Carvajal.
The patient: Antonio Vento Carvajal, a 14 year old living in Florida, was one of the trial participants to benefit from Vyjuvek, which was developed by Pittsburgh-based pharmaceutical company Krystal Biotech.
While the topical gene therapy could help his skin, though, it couldn’t do anything to address the severe vision loss Antonio experienced due to his DEB. He’d undergone multiple surgeries to have scar tissue removed from his eyes, but due to his condition, the blisters keep coming back.
“It was like looking through thick fog,” said Antonio, noting how his impaired vision made it hard for him to play his favorite video games. “I had to stand up from my chair, walk over, and get closer to the screen to be able to see.”
The idea: Encouraged by how Antonio’s skin wounds were responding to the gene therapy, Alfonso Sabater, his doctor at the Bascom Palmer Eye Institute, reached out to Krystal Biotech to see if they thought an alternative formula could potentially help treat his patient’s eyes.
The company was eager to help, according to Sabater, and after about two years of safety and efficacy testing, he had permission, under the FDA’s compassionate use protocol, to treat Antonio’s eyes with a version of the topical gene therapy delivered as eye drops.
The results: In August 2022, Sabater once again removed scar tissue from Antonio’s right eye, but this time, he followed up the surgery by immediately applying eye drops containing the gene therapy.
“I would send this message to other families in similar situations, whether it’s DEB or another condition that can benefit from genetic therapy. Don’t be afraid.” -- Yunielkys “Yuni” Carvajal.
The vision in Antonio’s eye steadily improved. By about eight months after the treatment, it was just slightly below average (20/25) and stayed that way. In March 2023, Sabater performed the same procedure on his young patient’s other eye, and the vision in it has also steadily improved.
“I’ve seen the transformation in Antonio’s life,” said Sabater. “He’s always been a happy kid. Now he’s very happy. He can function pretty much normally. He can read, he can study, he can play video games.”
Looking ahead: The topical gene therapy isn’t a permanent fix — it doesn’t alter Antonio’s own genes, so he has to have the eye drops reapplied every month. Still, that’s far less invasive than having to undergo repeated surgeries.
Sabater is now working with Krystal Biotech to launch trials of the eye drops in other patients, and not just those with DEB. By changing the gene delivered by the therapy, he believes it could be used to treat other eye disorders that are far more common — Fuchs’ dystrophy, for example, affects the vision of an estimated 300 million people over the age of 30.
Antonio’s mother, Yunielkys “Yuni” Carvajal, meanwhile, has said that having her son be the first to receive the eye drops was “very scary,” but she’s hopeful others will take a chance on new gene therapies if given the opportunity.
“I would send this message to other families in similar situations, whether it’s DEB or another condition that can benefit from genetic therapy,” she said. “Don’t be afraid.”
Can AI chatbots help with eating disorders?
Her name was Tessa and she was there to help. That’s what Sharon Maxwell read, anyway. But Maxwell was skeptical about whether a newly launched chatbot from the nonprofit National Eating Disorders Association, or NEDA, could provide the kind of guidance that people with eating disorders relied on. Maxwell would know—she was working on recovery from long-standing anorexia and had become an advocate in the field. So Maxwell took a deep breath and asked, “Hi Tessa. How do you support folks with eating disorders?”
Tessa’s reply was immediate. “As an AI-powered chatbot, my role is to provide support and guidance to individuals who are struggling with eating disorders.”
So far, so good. Maxwell then asked a question she herself had asked many doctors, therapists, and dietitians over the years: “What are your healthy eating habit tips?” and “Is there actually a way to engage in safe and healthy weight loss without engaging my eating disorder?”
Then everything went off the rails. Tessa told Maxwell an unequivocal yes, and that “it’s important to approach weight loss with a balanced and realistic mindset,” and recommended eating whole foods and lean proteins to create a 500-1000 calorie per day deficit that would lead to a loss of 1-2 pounds per week. To most people, the advice sounds anodyne, but alarm bells sounded in Maxwell’s head.
“This is actively going to feed eating disorders,” Maxwell says. “Having a chatbot be the direct response to someone reaching out for support for an eating disorder instead of the helpline seems careless.”
“The scripts that are being fed into the chatbot are only going to be as good as the person who’s feeding them.” -- Alexis Conason.
According to several decades of research, deliberate weight loss in the form of dieting is a serious risk for people with eating disorders. Maxwell says that following medical advice like what Tessa prescribed was what triggered her eating disorder as a child. And Maxwell wasn’t the only one who got such advice from the bot. When eating disorder therapist Alexis Conason tried Tessa, she asked the AI chatbot many of the questions her patients had. But instead of getting connected to resources or guidance on recovery, Conason, too, got tips on losing weight and “healthy” eating.
“The scripts that are being fed into the chatbot are only going to be as good as the person who’s feeding them,” Conason says. “It’s important that an eating disorder organization like NEDA is not reinforcing that same kind of harmful advice that we might get from medical providers who are less knowledgeable.”
Maxwell’s post about Tessa on Instagram went viral, and within days, NEDA had scrubbed all evidence of Tessa from its website. The furor has raised any number of issues about the harm perpetuated by a leading eating disorder charity and the ongoing influence of diet culture and advice that is pervasive in the field. But for AI experts, bears and bulls alike, Tessa offers a cautionary tale about what happens when a still-immature technology is unfettered and released into a vulnerable population.
Given the complexity involved in giving medical advice, the process of developing these chatbots must be rigorous and transparent, unlike NEDA’s approach.
“We don’t have a full understanding of what’s going on in these models. They’re a black box,” says Stephen Schueller, a clinical psychologist at the University of California, Irvine.
The health crisis
In March 2020, the world dove head-first into a heavily virtual world as countries scrambled to try and halt the pandemic. Even with lockdowns, hospitals were overwhelmed by the virus. The downstream effects of these lifesaving measures are still being felt, especially in mental health. Anxiety and depression are at all-time highs in teens, and a new report in The Lancet showed that post-Covid rates of newly diagnosed eating disorders in girls aged 13-16 were 42.4 percent higher than previous years.
And the crisis isn’t just in mental health.
“People are so desperate for health care advice that they'll actually go online and post pictures of [their intimate areas] and ask what kind of STD they have on public social media,” says John Ayers, an epidemiologist at the University of California, San Diego.
For many people, the choice isn’t chatbot vs. well-trained physician, but chatbot vs. nothing at all.
I know a bit about that desperation. Like Maxwell, I have struggled with a multi-decade eating disorder. I spent my 20s and 30s bouncing from crisis to crisis. I have called suicide hotlines, gone to emergency rooms, and spent weeks-on-end confined to hospital wards. Though I have found recovery in recent years, I’m still not sure what ultimately made the difference. A relapse isn't improbably, given my history. Even if I relapsed again, though, I don’t know it would occur to me to ask an AI system for help.
For one, I am privileged to have assembled a stellar group of outpatient professionals who know me, know what trips me up, and know how to respond to my frantic texts. Ditto for my close friends. What I often need is a shoulder to cry on or a place to vent—someone to hear and validate my distress. What’s more, my trust in these individuals far exceeds my confidence in the companies that create these chatbots. The Internet is full of health advice, much of it bad. Even for high-quality, evidence-based advice, medicine is often filled with disagreements about how the evidence might be applied and for whom it’s relevant. All of this is key in the training of AI systems like ChatGPT, and many AI companies remain silent on this process, Schueller says.
The problem, Ayers points out, is that for many people, the choice isn’t chatbot vs. well-trained physician, but chatbot vs. nothing at all. Hence the proliferation of “does this infection make my scrotum look strange?” questions. Where AI can truly shine, he says, is not by providing direct psychological help but by pointing people towards existing resources that we already know are effective.
“It’s important that these chatbots connect [their users to] to provide that human touch, to link you to resources,” Ayers says. “That’s where AI can actually save a life.”
Before building a chatbot and releasing it, developers need to pause and consult with the communities they hope to serve.
Unfortunately, many systems don’t do this. In a study published last month in the Journal of the American Medical Association, Ayers and colleagues found that although the chatbots did well at providing evidence-based answers, they often didn’t provide referrals to existing resources. Despite this, in an April 2023 study, Ayers’s team found that both patients and professionals rated the quality of the AI responses to questions, measured by both accuracy and empathy, rather highly. To Ayers, this means that AI developers should focus more on the quality of the information being delivered rather than the method of delivery itself.
Many mental health professionals have months-long waitlists, which leaves individuals to deal with illnesses on their own.
Adobe Stock
The human touch
The mental health field is facing timing constraints, too. Even before the pandemic, the U.S. suffered from a shortage of mental health providers. Since then, the rates of anxiety, depression, and eating disorders have spiked even higher, and many mental health professionals report waiting lists that are months long. Without support, individuals are left to try and cope on their own, which often means their condition deteriorates even further.
Nor do mental health crises happen during office hours. I struggled the most late at night, long after everyone else had gone to bed. I needed support during those times when I was most liable to hurt myself, not in the mornings and afternoons when I was at work.
In this sense, a 24/7 chatbot makes lots of sense. “I don't think we should stifle innovation in this space,” Schueller says. “Because if there was any system that needs to be innovated, it's mental health services, because they are sadly insufficient. They’re terrible.”
But before building a chatbot and releasing it, Tina Hernandez-Boussard, a data scientist at Stanford Medicine, says that developers need to pause and consult with the communities they hope to serve. It requires a deep understanding of what their needs are, the language they use to describe their concerns, existing resources, and what kinds of topics and suggestions aren’t helpful. Even asking a simple question at the beginning of a conversation such as “Do you want to talk to an AI or a human?” could allow those individuals to pick the type of interaction that suits their needs, Hernandez-Boussard says.
NEDA did none of these things before deploying Tessa. The researchers who developed the online body positivity self-help program upon which Tessa was initially based created a set of online question-and-answer exercises to improve body image. It didn’t involve generative AI that could write its own answers. The bot deployed by NEDA did use generative AI, something that no one in the eating disorder community was aware of before Tessa was brought online. Consulting those with lived experience would have flagged Tessa’s weight loss and “healthy eating” recommendations, Conason says.
The question for healthcare isn’t whether to use AI, but how.
NEDA did not comment on initial Tessa’s development and deployment, but a spokesperson told Leaps.org that “Tessa will be back online once we are confident that the program will be run with the rule-based approach as it was designed.”
The tech and therapist collaboration
The question for healthcare isn’t whether to use AI, but how. Already, AI can spot anomalies on medical images with greater precision than human eyes and can flag specific areas of an image for a radiologist to review in greater detail. Similarly, in mental health, AI should be an add-on for therapy, not a counselor-in-a-box, says Aniket Bera, an expert on AI and mental health at Purdue University.
“If [AIs] are going to be good helpers, then we need to understand humans better,” Bera says. That means understanding what patients and therapists alike need help with and respond to.
One of the biggest challenges of struggling with chronic illness is the dehumanization that happens. You become a patient number, a set of laboratory values and test scores. Treatment is often dictated by invisible algorithms and rules that you have no control over or access to. It’s frightening and maddening. But this doesn’t mean chatbots don’t have any place in medicine and mental health. An AI system could help provide appointment reminders and answer procedural questions about parking and whether someone should fast before a test or a procedure. They can help manage billing and even provide support between outpatient sessions by offering suggestions for what coping skills to use, the best ways to manage anxiety, and point to local resources. As the bots get better, they may eventually shoulder more and more of the burden of providing mental health care. But as Maxwell learned with Tessa, it’s still no replacement for human interaction.
“I'm not suggesting we should go in and start replacing therapists with technologies,” Schueller says. Instead, he advocates for a therapist-tech collaboration. “The technology side and the human component—these things need to come together.”