Genetic Test Scores Predicting Intelligence Are Not the New Eugenics
"A world where people are slotted according to their inborn ability – well, that is Gattaca. That is eugenics."
This was the assessment of Dr. Catherine Bliss, a sociologist who wrote a new book on social science genetics, when asked by MIT Technology Review about polygenic scores that can predict a person's intelligence or performance in school. Like a credit score, a polygenic score is statistical tool that combines a lot of information about a person's genome into a single number. Fears about using polygenic scores for genetic discrimination are understandable, given this country's ugly history of using the science of heredity to justify atrocities like forcible sterilization. But polygenic scores are not the new eugenics. And, rushing to discuss polygenic scores in dystopian terms only contributes to widespread public misunderstanding about genetics.
Can we start genotyping toddlers to identify the budding geniuses among them? The short answer is no.
Let's begin with some background on how polygenic scores are developed. In a genome wide-association study, researchers conduct millions of statistical tests to identify small differences in people's DNA sequence that are correlated with differences in a target outcome (beyond what can attributed to chance or ancestry differences). Successful studies of this sort require enormous sample sizes, but companies like 23andMe are now contributing genetic data from their consumers to research studies, and national biorepositories like U.K. Biobank have put genetic information from hundreds of thousands of people online. When applied to studying blood lipids or myopia, this kind of study strikes people as a straightforward and uncontroversial scientific tool. But it can also be conducted for cognitive and behavioral outcomes, like how many years of school a person has completed. When researchers have finished a genome-wide association study, they are left with a dataset with millions of rows (one for each genetic variant analyzed) and one column with the correlations between each variant and the outcome being studied.
The trick to polygenic scoring is to use these results and apply them to people who weren't participants in the original study. Measure the genes of a new person, weight each one of her millions of genetic variants by its correlation with educational attainment from a genome-wide association study, and then simply add everything up into a single number. Voila! -- you've created a polygenic score for educational attainment. On its face, the idea of "scoring" a person's genotype does immediately suggest Gattaca-type applications. Can we now start screening embryos for their "inborn ability," as Bliss called it? Can we start genotyping toddlers to identify the budding geniuses among them?
The short answer is no. Here are four reasons why dystopian projections about polygenic scores are out of touch with the current science:
The phrase "DNA tests for IQ" makes for an attention-grabbing headline, but it's scientifically meaningless.
First, a polygenic score currently predicts the life outcomes of an individual child with a great deal of uncertainty. The amount of uncertainty around polygenic predictions will decrease in the future, as genetic discovery samples get bigger and genetic studies include more of the variation in the genome, including rare variants that are particular to a few families. But for now, knowing a child's polygenic score predicts his ultimate educational attainment about as well as knowing his family's income, and slightly worse than knowing how far his mother went in school. These pieces of information are also readily available about children before they are born, but no one is writing breathless think-pieces about the dystopian outcomes that will result from knowing whether a pregnant woman graduated from college.
Second, using polygenic scoring for embryo selection requires parents to create embryos using reproductive technology, rather than conceiving them by having sex. The prediction that many women will endure medically-unnecessary IVF, in order to select the embryo with the highest polygenic score, glosses over the invasiveness, indignity, pain, and heartbreak that these hormonal and surgical procedures can entail.
Third, and counterintuitively, a polygenic score might be using DNA to measure aspects of the child's environment. Remember, a child inherits her DNA from her parents, who typically also shape the environment she grows up in. And, children's environments respond to their unique personalities and temperaments. One Icelandic study found that parents' polygenic scores predicted their children's educational attainment, even if the score was constructed using only the half of the parental genome that the child didn't inherit. For example, imagine mom has genetic variant X that makes her more likely to smoke during her pregnancy. Prenatal exposure to nicotine, in turn, affects the child's neurodevelopment, leading to behavior problems in school. The school responds to his behavioral problems with suspension, causing him to miss out on instructional content. A genome-wide association study will collapse this long and winding causal path into a simple correlation -- "genetic variant X is correlated with academic achievement." But, a child's polygenic score, which includes variant X, will partly reflect his likelihood of being exposed to adverse prenatal and school environments.
Finally, the phrase "DNA tests for IQ" makes for an attention-grabbing headline, but it's scientifically meaningless. As I've written previously, it makes sense to talk about a bacterial test for strep throat, because strep throat is a medical condition defined as having streptococcal bacteria growing in the back of your throat. If your strep test is positive, you have strep throat, no matter how serious your symptoms are. But a polygenic score is not a test "for" IQ, because intelligence is not defined at the level of someone's DNA. It doesn't matter how high your polygenic score is, if you can't reason abstractly or learn from experience. Equating your intelligence, a cognitive capacity that is tested behaviorally, with your polygenic score, a number that is a weighted sum of genetic variants discovered to be statistically associated with educational attainment in a hypothesis-free data mining exercise, is misleading about what intelligence is and is not.
The task for many scientists like me, who are interested in understanding why some children do better in school than other children, is to disentangle correlations from causation.
So, if we're not going to build a Gattaca-style genetic hierarchy, what are polygenic scores good for? They are not useless. In fact, they give scientists a valuable new tool for studying how to improve children's lives. The task for many scientists like me, who are interested in understanding why some children do better in school than other children, is to disentangle correlations from causation. The best way to do that is to run an experiment where children are randomized to environments, but often a true experiment is unethical or impractical. You can't randomize children to be born to a teenage mother or to go to school with inexperienced teachers. By statistically controlling for some of the relevant genetic differences between people using a polygenic score, scientists are better able to identify potential environmental causes of differences in children's life outcomes. As we have seen with other methods from genetics, like twin studies, understanding genes illuminates the environment.
Research that examines genetics in relation to social inequality, such as differences in higher education outcomes, will obviously remind people of the horrors of the eugenics movement. Wariness regarding how genetic science will be applied is certainly warranted. But, polygenic scores are not pure measures of "inborn ability," and genome-wide association studies of human intelligence and educational attainment are not inevitably ushering in a new eugenics age.
When doctors couldn’t stop her daughter’s seizures, this mom earned a PhD and found a treatment herself.
Twenty-eight years ago, Tracy Dixon-Salazaar woke to the sound of her daughter, two-year-old Savannah, in the midst of a medical emergency.
“I entered [Savannah’s room] to see her tiny little body jerking about violently in her bed,” Tracy said in an interview. “I thought she was choking.” When she and her husband frantically called 911, the paramedic told them it was likely that Savannah had had a seizure—a term neither Tracy nor her husband had ever heard before.
Over the next several years, Savannah’s seizures continued and worsened. By age five Savannah was having seizures dozens of times each day, and her parents noticed significant developmental delays. Savannah was unable to use the restroom and functioned more like a toddler than a five-year-old.
Doctors were mystified: Tracy and her husband had no family history of seizures, and there was no event—such as an injury or infection—that could have caused them. Doctors were also confused as to why Savannah’s seizures were happening so frequently despite trying different seizure medications.
Doctors eventually diagnosed Savannah with Lennox-Gaustaut Syndrome, or LGS, an epilepsy disorder with no cure and a poor prognosis. People with LGS are often resistant to several kinds of anti-seizure medications, and often suffer from developmental delays and behavioral problems. People with LGS also have a higher chance of injury as well as a higher chance of sudden unexpected death (SUDEP) due to the frequent seizures. In about 70 percent of cases, LGS has an identifiable cause such as a brain injury or genetic syndrome. In about 30 percent of cases, however, the cause is unknown.
Watching her daughter struggle through repeated seizures was devastating to Tracy and the rest of the family.
“This disease, it comes into your life. It’s uninvited. It’s unannounced and it takes over every aspect of your daily life,” said Tracy in an interview with Today.com. “Plus it’s attacking the thing that is most precious to you—your kid.”
Desperate to find some answers, Tracy began combing the medical literature for information about epilepsy and LGS. She enrolled in college courses to better understand the papers she was reading.
“Ironically, I thought I needed to go to college to take English classes to understand these papers—but soon learned it wasn’t English classes I needed, It was science,” Tracy said. When she took her first college science course, Tracy says, she “fell in love with the subject.”
Tracy was now a caregiver to Savannah, who continued to have hundreds of seizures a month, as well as a full-time student, studying late into the night and while her kids were at school, using classwork as “an outlet for the pain.”
“I couldn’t help my daughter,” Tracy said. “Studying was something I could do.”
Twelve years later, Tracy had earned a PhD in neurobiology.
After her post-doctoral training, Tracy started working at a lab that explored the genetics of epilepsy. Savannah’s doctors hadn’t found a genetic cause for her seizures, so Tracy decided to sequence her genome again to check for other abnormalities—and what she found was life-changing.
Tracy discovered that Savannah had a calcium channel mutation, meaning that too much calcium was passing through Savannah’s neural pathways, leading to seizures. The information made sense to Tracy: Anti-seizure medications often leech calcium from a person’s bones. When doctors had prescribed Savannah calcium supplements in the past to counteract these effects, her seizures had gotten worse every time she took the medication. Tracy took her discovery to Savannah’s doctor, who agreed to prescribe her a calcium blocker.
The change in Savannah was almost immediate.
Within two weeks, Savannah’s seizures had decreased by 95 percent. Once on a daily seven-drug regimen, she was soon weaned to just four, and then three. Amazingly, Tracy started to notice changes in Savannah’s personality and development, too.
“She just exploded in her personality and her talking and her walking and her potty training and oh my gosh she is just so sassy,” Tracy said in an interview.
Since starting the calcium blocker eleven years ago, Savannah has continued to make enormous strides. Though still unable to read or write, Savannah enjoys puzzles and social media. She’s “obsessed” with boys, says Tracy. And while Tracy suspects she’ll never be able to live independently, she and her daughter can now share more “normal” moments—something she never anticipated at the start of Savannah’s journey with LGS. While preparing for an event, Savannah helped Tracy get ready.
“We picked out a dress and it was the first time in our lives that we did something normal as a mother and a daughter,” she said. “It was pretty cool.”
A sleek, four-foot tall white robot glides across a cafe storefront in Tokyo’s Nihonbashi district, holding a two-tiered serving tray full of tea sandwiches and pastries. The cafe’s patrons smile and say thanks as they take the tray—but it’s not the robot they’re thanking. Instead, the patrons are talking to the person controlling the robot—a restaurant employee who operates the avatar from the comfort of their home.
It’s a typical scene at DAWN, short for Diverse Avatar Working Network—a cafe that launched in Tokyo six years ago as an experimental pop-up and quickly became an overnight success. Today, the cafe is a permanent fixture in Nihonbashi, staffing roughly 60 remote workers who control the robots remotely and communicate to customers via a built-in microphone.
More than just a creative idea, however, DAWN is being hailed as a life-changing opportunity. The workers who control the robots remotely (known as “pilots”) all have disabilities that limit their ability to move around freely and travel outside their homes. Worldwide, an estimated 16 percent of the global population lives with a significant disability—and according to the World Health Organization, these disabilities give rise to other problems, such as exclusion from education, unemployment, and poverty.
These are all problems that Kentaro Yoshifuji, founder and CEO of Ory Laboratory, which supplies the robot servers at DAWN, is looking to correct. Yoshifuji, who was bedridden for several years in high school due to an undisclosed health problem, launched the company to help enable people who are house-bound or bedridden to more fully participate in society, as well as end the loneliness, isolation, and feelings of worthlessness that can sometimes go hand-in-hand with being disabled.
“It’s heartbreaking to think that [people with disabilities] feel they are a burden to society, or that they fear their families suffer by caring for them,” said Yoshifuji in an interview in 2020. “We are dedicating ourselves to providing workable, technology-based solutions. That is our purpose.”
Shota Kuwahara, a DAWN employee with muscular dystrophy. Ory Labs, Inc.
Wanting to connect with others and feel useful is a common sentiment that’s shared by the workers at DAWN. Marianne, a mother of two who lives near Mt. Fuji, Japan, is functionally disabled due to chronic pain and fatigue. Working at DAWN has allowed Marianne to provide for her family as well as help alleviate her loneliness and grief.Shota, Kuwahara, a DAWN employee with muscular dystrophy, agrees. "There are many difficulties in my daily life, but I believe my life has a purpose and is not being wasted," he says. "Being useful, able to help other people, even feeling needed by others, is so motivational."