Is Finding Out Your Baby’s Genetics A New Responsibility of Parenting?
Hours after a baby is born, its heel is pricked with a lancet. Drops of the infant's blood are collected on a porous card, which is then mailed to a state laboratory. The dried blood spots are screened for around thirty conditions, including phenylketonuria (PKU), the metabolic disorder that kick-started this kind of newborn screening over 60 years ago. In the U.S., parents are not asked for permission to screen their child. Newborn screening programs are public health programs, and the assumption is that no good parent would refuse a screening test that could identify a serious yet treatable condition in their baby.
Learning as much as you can about your child's health might seem like a natural obligation of parenting. But it's an assumption that I think needs to be much more closely examined.
Today, with the introduction of genome sequencing into clinical medicine, some are asking whether newborn screening goes far enough. As the cost of sequencing falls, should parents take a more expansive look at their children's health, learning not just whether they have a rare but treatable childhood condition, but also whether they are at risk for untreatable conditions or for diseases that, if they occur at all, will strike only in adulthood? Should genome sequencing be a part of every newborn's care?
It's an idea that appeals to Anne Wojcicki, the founder and CEO of the direct-to-consumer genetic testing company 23andMe, who in a 2016 interview with The Guardian newspaper predicted that having newborns tested would soon be considered standard practice—"as critical as testing your cholesterol"—and a new responsibility of parenting. Wojcicki isn't the only one excited to see everyone's genes examined at birth. Francis Collins, director of the National Institutes of Health and perhaps the most prominent advocate of genomics in the United States, has written that he is "almost certain … that whole-genome sequencing will become part of new-born screening in the next few years." Whether that would happen through state-mandated screening programs, or as part of routine pediatric care—or perhaps as a direct-to-consumer service that parents purchase at birth or receive as a baby-shower gift—is not clear.
Learning as much as you can about your child's health might seem like a natural obligation of parenting. But it's an assumption that I think needs to be much more closely examined, both because the results that genome sequencing can return are more complex and more uncertain than one might expect, and because parents are not actually responsible for their child's lifelong health and well-being.
What is a parent supposed to do about such a risk except worry?
Existing newborn screening tests look for the presence of rare conditions that, if identified early in life, before the child shows any symptoms, can be effectively treated. Sequencing could identify many of these same kinds of conditions (and it might be a good tool if it could be targeted to those conditions alone), but it would also identify gene variants that confer an increased risk rather than a certainty of disease. Occasionally that increased risk will be significant. About 12 percent of women in the general population will develop breast cancer during their lives, while those who have a harmful BRCA1 or BRCA2 gene variant have around a 70 percent chance of developing the disease. But for many—perhaps most—conditions, the increased risk associated with a particular gene variant will be very small. Researchers have identified over 600 genes that appear to be associated with schizophrenia, for example, but any one of those confers only a tiny increase in risk for the disorder. What is a parent supposed to do about such a risk except worry?
Sequencing results are uncertain in other important ways as well. While we now have the ability to map the genome—to create a read-out of the pairs of genetic letters that make up a person's DNA—we are still learning what most of it means for a person's health and well-being. Researchers even have a name for gene variants they think might be associated with a disease or disorder, but for which they don't have enough evidence to be sure. They are called "variants of unknown (or uncertain) significance (VUS), and they pop up in most people's sequencing results. In cancer genetics, where much research has been done, about 1 in 5 gene variants are reclassified over time. Most are downgraded, which means that a good number of VUS are eventually designated benign.
While one parent might reasonably decide to learn about their child's risk for a condition about which nothing can be done medically, a different, yet still thoroughly reasonable, parent might prefer to remain ignorant so that they can enjoy the time before their child is afflicted.
Then there's the puzzle of what to do about results that show increased risk or even certainty for a condition that we have no idea how to prevent. Some genomics advocates argue that even if a result is not "medically actionable," it might have "personal utility" because it allows parents to plan for their child's future needs, to enroll them in research, or to connect with other families whose children carry the same genetic marker.
Finding a certain gene variant in one child might inform parents' decisions about whether to have another—and if they do, about whether to use reproductive technologies or prenatal testing to select against that variant in a future child. I have no doubt that for some parents these personal utility arguments are persuasive, but notice how far we've now strayed from the serious yet treatable conditions that motivated governments to set up newborn screening programs, and to mandate such testing for all.
Which brings me to the other problem with the call for sequencing newborn babies: the idea that even if it's not what the law requires, it's what good parents should do. That idea is very compelling when we're talking about sequencing results that show a serious threat to the child's health, especially when interventions are available to prevent or treat that condition. But as I have shown, many sequencing results are not of this type.
While one parent might reasonably decide to learn about their child's risk for a condition about which nothing can be done medically, a different, yet still thoroughly reasonable, parent might prefer to remain ignorant so that they can enjoy the time before their child is afflicted. This parent might decide that the worry—and the hypervigilence it could inspire in them—is not in their child's best interest, or indeed in their own. This parent might also think that it should be up to the child, when he or she is older, to decide whether to learn about his or her risk for adult-onset conditions, especially given that many adults at high familial risk for conditions like Alzheimer's or Huntington's disease choose never to be tested. This parent will value the child's future autonomy and right not to know more than they value the chance to prepare for a health risk that won't strike the child until 40 or 50 years in the future.
Parents are not obligated to learn about their children's risk for a condition that cannot be prevented, has a small risk of occurring, or that would appear only in adulthood.
Contemporary understandings of parenting are famously demanding. We are asked to do everything within our power to advance our children's health and well-being—to act always in our children's best interests. Against that backdrop, the need to sequence every newborn baby's genome might seem obvious. But we should be skeptical. Many sequencing results are complex and uncertain. Parents are not obligated to learn about their children's risk for a condition that cannot be prevented, has a small risk of occurring, or that would appear only in adulthood. To suggest otherwise is to stretch parental responsibilities beyond the realm of childhood and beyond factors that parents can control.
[Ed. Note: This is the fourth episode in our Moonshot series, which explores four cutting-edge scientific developments that stand to fundamentally transform our world.]
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.
A Single Blood Test May Soon Replace Your Annual Physical
For all the excitement over "personalized medicine" in the last two decades, its promise has not fully come to pass. Consider your standard annual physical.
Scientists have measured thousands of proteins from a single blood test to assess many individualized health conditions at once.
Your doctor still does a blood test to check your cholesterol and gauge your risk for heart disease by considering traditional risk factors (like smoking, diabetes, blood pressure) — an evaluation that has not changed in decades.
But a high-risk number alone is not enough to tell accurately whether you will suffer from heart disease. It just reflects your risk compared to population-level averages. In other words, not every person with elevated "bad" cholesterol will have a heart attack, so how can doctors determine who truly needs to give up the cheeseburgers and who doesn't?
Now, an emerging area of research may unlock some real-time answers. For the first time, as reported in the journal Nature Medicine last week, scientists have measured thousands of proteins from a single blood test to assess many individualized health conditions at once, including liver and kidney function, diabetes risk, body fat, cardiopulmonary fitness, and even smoking and alcohol consumption. Proteins can give a clear snapshot of how your body is faring at any given moment, as well as a sneak preview at what diseases may be lurking under the surface.
"Years from now," says study co-author Peter Ganz of UCSF, "we will probably be looking back on this paper as a milestone in personalized medicine."
We spoke to Ganz about the significance of this milestone. Our interview has been edited and condensed.
Is this the first study of its kind?
Yes, it is. This is a study where we measured 5,000 proteins at once to look for patterns that could either predict the risk of future diseases or inform the current state of health. Previous to this, people have measured typically one protein at a time, and some of these individual proteins have made it into clinical practice.
An example would be a protein called C-reactive protein, which is a measure of inflammation and is used sometimes in cardiology to predict the risk of future heart attacks. But what's really new is this scale. We wanted to get away from just focusing on one problem that the patient may have at a time, whether it's heart disease or kidney disease, and by measuring a much greater number of proteins, the hope is that we could inform the health of ultimately just about every organ in the body or every tissue. It's a step forward for what I would call "a one-stop shop."
"I'm very excited about personalized medicine through proteins as opposed to genes because you get both the nature and nurture."
Three things get me excited about this. One is the convenience for the patient of a single test to determine many different diseases. The second thing is the healthcare cost savings. We estimated what the cost would be to get these 11 healthcare measures that we reported on using traditional testing and the cost was upwards of 3,000 British pounds. And even though I don't know for sure what the cost of the protein tests would ultimately be, [it could come down to about $50 to $100].
The last thing is that the measurement of proteins is part of what people have called personalized medicine or precision medicine. If you look at risk factors across the population, it may not apply to individuals. In contrast, proteins are downstream of risk factors. So proteins actually tell us whether the traditional risk factors have set in motion the necessary machinery to cause disease. Proteins are the worker bees that regulate what the human body does, and so if you can find some anomalies in the proteins, that may inform us if a disease is likely to be ongoing even in its earliest stages.
Does protein testing have advantages over genetic testing for predicting future health risks?
The problem with genomics is that genes usually don't take care of the environment. It's a blueprint, but your blueprint has no idea what you will be exposed to during your lifetime in terms of the environment and lifestyle that you may choose and medications that you may be on. These are things that proteins can account for. I'm very excited about personalized medicine through proteins as opposed to genes because you get both the nature and nurture as opposed to genomics, which only gives you nature but doesn't account for anything else.
Proteins can also be tracked over time and that's not something you can do with genes. So if your behavior improves, your genes won't change, but your proteins will.
Could this new test become a regular feature of your annual physical?
That's the idea. This would be basically almost a standalone test that you could have done every year. And hopefully you wouldn't need other tests to complement this. This could be your yearly physical.
How much more does it need to be validated before it can enter the clinic and patients can trust the results?
This was a proof-of concept study. To really make this useful, we need to expand from 11 measures of health to a hundred or more health insights, to cover the whole body. And we need to expand this to all racial groups. Three of the five centers in the study were European – all Caucasian – so it's one of our high priorities to find groups of patients with better representation of minorities.
When do you expect doctors to be routinely giving this test to patients?
Much closer to five years than 20 years. We're scaling up from 11 disease states to 100, and many of those studies are underway. Results should be done within three to five years.
Do you think insurance will cover it?
Good question. I have been approached by an insurance company that wanted to understand the product better – a major insurer, with the possibility that this could actually be cost saving.
I have to ask you a curveball -- do you think that the downfall of Theranos will make consumers hesitant to trust a new technology that relies on using a single blood sample to screen for multiple health risks?
[Laughs] You're not the first person to ask me that today. I actually got a call from Elizabeth Holmes [in 2008 when I was at Harvard]. I met with her for an afternoon and met her team two more times. I gave them advice that they completely disregarded.
In many ways, what we do is diametrically opposite to Theranos. They had a culture of secrecy, and what we do is about openness. We publish, like this paper in Nature Medicine, to show the scientific details. Our supplement is much longer than the typical academic paper. We reveal everything we know. A lot of the research we do is funded by [the National Institutes of Health], and they have strict expectations about data sharing. So we agree to make the data available on a public website. If there is something we haven't done with the data, others can do it.
So you're saying that this is not another Theranos.
No, God forbid. We hope to be the opposite.
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.