Are the gains from gain-of-function research worth the risks?
Gain-of-function research can make pathogens more infectious and deadly. It also enables scientists to prepare remedies in advance.
Scientists have long argued that gain-of-function research, which can make viruses and other infectious agents more contagious or more deadly, was necessary to develop therapies and vaccines to counter the pathogens in case they were used for biological warfare. As the SARS-CoV-2 origins are being investigated, one prominent theory suggests it had leaked from a biolab that conducted gain-of-function research, causing a global pandemic that claimed nearly 6.9 million lives. Now some question the wisdom of engaging in this type of research, stating that the risks may far outweigh the benefits.
“Gain-of-function research means genetically changing a genome in a way that might enhance the biological function of its genes, such as its transmissibility or the range of hosts it can infect,” says George Church, professor of genetics at Harvard Medical School. This can occur through direct genetic manipulation as well as by encouraging mutations while growing successive generations of micro-organism in culture. “Some of these changes may impact pathogenesis in a way that is hard to anticipate in advance,” Church says.
In the wake of the global pandemic, the pros and cons of gain-of-function research are being fiercely debated. Some scientists say this type of research is vital for preventing future pandemics or for preparing for bioweapon attacks. Others consider it another disaster waiting to happen. The Government Accounting Office issued a report charging that a framework developed by the U.S. Department of Health & Human Services (HHS) provided inadequate oversight of this potentially deadly research. There’s a movement to stop it altogether. In January, the Viral Gain-of-Function Research Moratorium Act (S. 81) was introduced into the Senate to cease awarding federal research funding to institutions doing gain-of-function studies.
While testifying before the House COVID Origins Select Committee on March 8th, Robert Redfield, former director of the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, said that COVID-19 may have resulted from an accidental lab leak involving gain-of-function research. Redfield said his conclusion is based upon the “rapid and high infectivity for human-to-human transmission, which then predicts the rapid evolution of new variants.”
“It is a very, very, very small subset of life science research that could potentially generate a potential pandemic pathogen,” said Gerald Parker, associate dean for Global One Health at Texas A&M University.
“In my opinion,” Redfield continues, “the COVID-19 pandemic presents a case study on the potential dangers of such research. While many believe that gain-of-function research is critical to get ahead of viruses by developing vaccines, in this case, I believe that was the exact opposite.” Consequently, Redfield called for a moratorium on gain-of-function research until there is consensus about the value of such risky science.
What constitutes risky?
The Federal Select Agent Program lists 68 specific infectious agents as risky because they are either very contagious or very deadly. In order to work with these 68 agents, scientists must register with the federal government. Meanwhile, research on deadly pathogens that aren’t easily transmitted, or pathogens that are quite contagious but not deadly, can be conducted without such oversight. “If you’re not working with select agents, you’re not required to register the research with the federal government,” says Gerald Parker, associate dean for Global One Health at Texas A&M University. But the 68-item list may not have everything that could possibly become dangerous or be engineered to be dangerous, thus escaping the government’s scrutiny—an issue that new regulations aim to address.
In January 2017, the White House Office of Science and Technology Policy (OSTP) issued additional guidance. It required federal departments and agencies to follow a series of steps when reviewing proposed research that could create, transfer, or use potential pandemic pathogens resulting from the enhancement of a pathogen’s transmissibility or virulence in humans.
In defining risky pathogens, OSTP included viruses that were likely to be highly transmissible and highly virulent, and thus very deadly. The Proposed Biosecurity Oversight Framework for the Future of Science, outlined in 2023, broadened the scope to require federal review of research “that is reasonably anticipated to enhance the transmissibility and/or virulence of any pathogen” likely to pose a threat to public health, health systems or national security. Those types of experiments also include the pathogens’ ability to evade vaccines or therapeutics, or diagnostic detection.
However, Parker says that dangers of generating a pandemic-level germ are tiny. “It is a very, very, very small subset of life science research that could potentially generate a potential pandemic pathogen.” Since gain-of-function guidelines were first issued in 2017, only three such research projects have met those requirements for HHS review. They aimed to study influenza and bird flu. Only two of those projects were funded, according to the NIH Office of Science Policy. For context, NIH funded approximately 11,000 of the 54,000 grant applications it received in 2022.
Guidelines governing gain-of-function research are being strengthened, but Church points out they aren’t ideal yet. “They need to be much clearer about penalties and avoiding positive uses before they would be enforceable.”
What do we gain from gain-of-function research?
The most commonly cited reason to conduct gain-of-function research is for biodefense—the government’s ability to deal with organisms that may pose threats to public health.
In the era of mRNA vaccines, the advance preparedness argument may be even less relevant.
“The need to work with potentially dangerous viruses is central to our preparedness,” Parker says. “It’s essential that we know and understand the basic biology, microbiology, etc. of some of these dangerous pathogens.” That includes increasing our knowledge of the molecular mechanisms by which a virus could become a sustained threat to humans. “Knowing that could help us detect [risks] earlier,” Parker says—and could make it possible to have medical countermeasures, like vaccines and therapeutics, ready.
Most vaccines, however, aren’t affected by this type of research. Essentially, scientists hope they will never need to use it. Moreover, Paul Mango, HSS former deputy chief of staff for policy, and author of the 2022 book Warp Speed, says he believes that in the era of mRNA vaccines, the advance preparedness argument may be even less relevant. “That’s because these vaccines can be developed and produced in less than 12 months, unlike traditional vaccines that require years of development,” he says.
Can better oversight guarantee safety?
Another situation, which Parker calls unnecessarily dangerous, is when regulatory bodies cannot verify that the appropriate biosafety and biosecurity controls are in place.
Gain-of-function studies, Parker points out, are conducted at the basic research level, and they’re performed in high-containment labs. “As long as all the processes, procedures and protocols are followed and there’s appropriate oversight at the institutional and scientific level, it can be conducted safely.”
Globally, there are 69 Biosafety Level 4 (BSL4) labs operating, under construction or being planned, according to recent research from King’s College London and George Mason University for Global BioLabs. Eleven of these 18 high-containment facilities that are planned or under construction are in Asia. Overall, three-quarters of the BSL4 labs are in cities, increasing public health risks if leaks occur.
Researchers say they are confident in the oversight system for BSL4 labs within the U.S. They are less confident in international labs. Global BioLabs’ report concurs. It gives the highest scores for biosafety to industrialized nations, led by France, Australia, Canada, the U.S. and Japan, and the lowest scores to Saudi Arabia, India and some developing African nations. Scores for biosecurity followed similar patterns.
“There are no harmonized international biosafety and biosecurity standards,” Parker notes. That issue has been discussed for at least a decade. Now, in the wake of SARS and the COVID-19 pandemic, scientists and regulators are likely to push for unified oversight standards. “It’s time we got serious about international harmonization of biosafety and biosecurity standards and guidelines,” Parker says. New guidelines are being worked on. The National Science Advisory Board for Biosecurity (NSABB) outlined its proposed recommendations in the document titled Proposed Biosecurity Oversight Framework for the Future of Science.
The debates about whether gain-of-function research is useful or poses unnecessary risks to humanity are likely to rage on for a while. The public too has a voice in this debate and should weigh in by communicating with their representatives in government, or by partaking in educational forums or initiatives offered by universities and other institutions. In the meantime, scientists should focus on improving the research regulations, Parker notes. “We need to continue to look for lessons learned and for gaps in our oversight system,” he says. “That’s what we need to do right now.”
Technology is Redefining the Age of 'Older Mothers'
Scientists are working on technologies that would enable more 70-year-old women to have babies.
In October 2021, a woman from Gujarat, India, stunned the world when it was revealed she had her first child through in vitro fertilization (IVF) at age 70. She had actually been preceded by a compatriot of hers who, two years before, gave birth to twins at the age of 73, again with the help of IVF treatment. The oldest known mother to conceive naturally lived in the UK; in 1997, Dawn Brooke conceived a son at age 59.
These women may seem extreme outliers, almost freaks of nature; in the US, for example, the average age of first-time mothers is 26. A few decades from now, though, the sight of 70-year-old first-time mothers may not even raise eyebrows, say futurists.
“We could absolutely have more 70-year-old mothers because we are learning how to regulate the aging process better,” says Andrew Hessel, a microbiologist and geneticist, who cowrote "The Genesis Machine," a book about “rewriting life in the age of synthetic biology,” with Amy Webb, the futurist who recently wondered why 70-year-old women shouldn’t give birth.
Technically, we're already doing this, says Hessel, pointing to a technique known as in vitro gametogenesis (IVG). IVG refers to turning adult cells into sperm or egg cells. “You can think of it as the upgrade to IVF,” Hessel says. These vanguard stem cell research technologies can take even skin cells and turn them into induced pluripotent stem cells (iPSCs), which are basically master cells capable of maturing into any human cell, be it kidney cells, liver cells, brain cells or gametes, aka eggs and sperm, says Henry T. “Hank” Greely, a Stanford law professor who specializes in ethical, legal, and social issues in biosciences.
Mothers over 70 will be a minor blip, statistically speaking, Greely predicts.
In 2016, Greely wrote "The End of Sex," a book in which he described the science of making gametes out of iPSCs in detail. Greely says science will indeed enable us to see 70-year-old new mums fraternize with mothers several decades younger at kindergartens in the (not far) future. And it won’t be that big of a deal.
“An awful lot of children all around the world have been raised by grandmothers for millennia. To have 70-year-olds and 30-year-olds mingling in maternal roles is not new,” he says. That said, he doubts that many women will want to have a baby in the eighth decade of their life, even if science allows it. “Having a baby and raising a child is hard work. Even if 1% of all mothers are over 65, they aren’t going to change the world,” Greely says. Mothers over 70 will be a minor blip, statistically speaking, he predicts. But one thing is certain: the technology is here.
And more technologies for the same purpose could be on the way. In March 2021, researchers from Monash University in Melbourne, Australia, published research in Nature, where they successfully reprogrammed skin cells into a three-dimensional cellular structure that was morphologically and molecularly similar to a human embryo–the iBlastoid. In compliance with Australian law and international guidelines referencing the “primitive streak rule," which bans the use of embryos older than 14 days in scientific research, Monash scientists stopped growing their iBlastoids in vitro on day 11.
“The research was both cutting-edge and controversial, because it essentially created a new human life, not for the purpose of a patient who's wanting to conceive, but for basic research,” says Lindsay Wu, a senior lecturer in the School of Medical Sciences at the University of New South Wales (UNSW), in Kensington, Australia. If you really want to make sure what you are breeding is an embryo, you need to let it develop into a viable baby. “This is the real proof in the pudding,'' says Wu, who runs UNSW’s Laboratory for Ageing Research. Then you get to a stage where you decide for ethical purposes you have to abort it. “Fiddling here a bit too much?” he asks. Wu believes there are other approaches to tackling declining fertility due to older age that are less morally troubling.
He is actually working on them. Why would it be that women, who are at peak physical health in almost every other regard, in their mid- to late- thirties, have problems conceiving, asked Wu and his team in a research paper published in 2020 in Cell Reports. The simple answer is the egg cell. An average girl in puberty has between 300,000 and 400,000 eggs, while at around age 37, the same woman has only 25,000 eggs left. Things only go downhill from there. So, what torments the egg cells?
The UNSW team found that the levels of key molecules called NAD+ precursors, which are essential to the metabolism and genome stability of egg cells, decline with age. The team proceeded to add these vitamin-like substances back into the drinking water of reproductively aged, infertile lab mice, which then had babies.
“It's an important proof of concept,” says Wu. He is investigating how safe it is to replicate the experiment with humans in two ongoing studies. The ultimate goal is to restore the quality of egg cells that are left in patients in their late 30s and early- to mid-40s, says Wu. He sees the goal of getting pregnant for this age group as less ethically troubling, compared to 70-year-olds.
But what is ethical, anyway? “It is a tricky word,” says Hessel. He differentiates between ethics, which represent a personal position and may, thus, be more transient, and morality, longer lasting principles embraced across society such as, “Thou shalt not kill.” Unprecedented advances often bring out fear and antagonism until time passes and they just become…ordinary. When IVF pioneer Landrum Shettles tried to perform IVF in 1973, the chairman of Columbia’s College of Physicians and Surgeons interdicted the procedure at the last moment. Almost all countries in the world have IVF clinics today, and the global IVF services market is clearly a growth industry.
Besides, you don’t have a baby at 70 by accident: you really want it, Greely and Hessel agree. And by that age, mothers may be wiser and more financially secure, Hessel says (though he is quick to add that even the pregnancy of his own wife, who had her child at 40, was a high-risk one).
As a research question, figuring out whether older mothers are better than younger ones and vice-versa entails too many confounding variables, says Greely. And why should we focus on who’s the better mother anyway? “We've had 70-year-old and 80-year-old fathers forever–why should people have that much trouble getting used to mothers doing the same?” Greely wonders. For some women having a child at an old(er) age would be comforting; maybe that’s what matters.
And the technology to enable older women to have children is already here or coming very soon. That, perhaps, matters even more. Researchers have already created mice–and their offspring–entirely from scratch in the lab. “Doing this to produce human eggs is similar," says Hessel. "It is harder to collect tissues, and the inducing cocktails are different, but steady advances are being made." He predicts that the demand for fertility treatments will keep financing research and development in the area. He says that big leaps will be made if ethical concerns don’t block them: it is not far-fetched to believe that the first baby produced from lab-grown eggs will be born within the next decade.
In an op-ed in 2020 with Stat, Greely argued that we’ve already overcome the technical barrier for human cloning, but no one's really talking about it. Likewise, scientists are also working on enabling 70-year-old women to have babies, says Hessel, but most commentators are keeping really quiet about it. At least so far.
New Cell Therapies Give Hope to Diabetes Patients
Researchers are developing new cell therapies that could cure Type 1 diabetes and make constant management of the disease a way of the past.
For nearly four decades, George Huntley has thought constantly about his diabetes. Diagnosed in 1983 with Type 1 (insulin-dependent) diabetes, Huntley began managing his condition with daily finger sticks to check his blood glucose levels and doses of insulin that he injected into his abdomen. Even now, with an insulin pump and a device that continuously monitors his glucose, he must consider how every meal will affect his blood sugar, checking his monitor multiple times each hour.
Like many of those who depend on insulin injections, Huntley is simultaneously grateful for the technology that makes his condition easier to manage and tired of thinking about diabetes. If he could wave a magic wand, he says, he would make his diabetes disappear. So when he read about biotechs like ViaCyte and Vertex Pharmaceuticals developing new cell therapies that have the potential to cure Type 1 diabetes, Huntley was excited.
You also won’t see him signing up any time soon. The therapies under development by both companies would require a lifelong regimen of drugs for suppressing the immune system to prevent the body from rejecting the foreign cells. It’s a problem also seen in the transplant of insulin-producing cells of the pancreas – called islet cells – from deceased donors. To Howard Foyt, chief medical officer at ViaCyte, a San Diego-based biotech specializing in the development of cell therapies for diabetes, the tradeoff is worth it.
“A lot of the symptoms of diabetes are not something that you wear on your arm, so to speak. You’re not necessarily conscious of them until you’re successfully treated, and you feel better,” Foyt says.
For many with diabetes, managing these symptoms is a constant game of Whack-a-Mole. “Any form of treatment that gets someone closer to feeling good is a victory,” he says.
“Am I going to be trading diabetes for cancer? That’s not a chance I
want to take."
But not everyone is convinced. What’s more, it’s likely that the availability of these cell therapies will be limited to those with life-threatening diabetes symptoms, such as hypoglycemia unawareness. To Huntley, these therapies remain a bit of a Faustian bargain.
“Am I going to be trading diabetes for cancer? That’s not a chance I want to take,” he says.
The discovery of insulin in 1921 transformed Type 1 diabetes from a death sentence into a potentially manageable condition. Even as better versions of insulin hit the market—ones that weren’t derived from pigs and wouldn’t provoke an allergic response, longer-acting insulin, insulin pens—they didn’t change the reality that those with Type 1 diabetes remained dependent on insulin. Even the most advanced continuous glucose monitors (which tests blood sugar levels every few minutes, 24/7) and insulin pumps don’t perform as well as a healthy pancreas.
Whether by injection or pump, someone with diabetes needs to administer the insulin their body no longer makes. With advances in organ transplantation, the concept of transplanting insulin-producing pancreatic beta cells seemed obvious. After more than a decade of painstaking work, James Shapiro, who directs the Islet Transplant Program at the University of Albania, honed a process called the Edmonton Protocol for pancreas transplants. For a few patients who couldn’t control their blood sugars any other way, the Edmonton Protocol became a life saver. Some of these patients were even able to stop insulin completely, Shapiro says. But the high cost of organ transplant and a chronic shortage of donor organs, pancreas or otherwise, meant that only a small handful of patients could benefit.
Stem cells, however, can be grown in vats, meaning that supply would never be an issue. “We would be going from a very successful treatment of today to a potential cure tomorrow,” Shapiro says.
In 2014, spurred by his own children’s diagnoses with Type 1 Diabetes, stem cell biologist Doug Melton of Harvard University figured out a way to differentiate embryonic stem cells into functional pancreatic beta cells. It was a long process, explains immunoengineer Alice Tomei at the University of Miami, because “the islet is not one cell, it's like a mini-organ that has its own needs.”
Add on the risk of rejection and autoimmunity, and Tomei says that scientists soon realized that chronic and systemic immunosuppression was the only way forward. Over the next several years, Melton improved his approach to yield more cells with fewer impurities. Melton partnered with Boston-based Vertex Pharmaceuticals to create a cell therapy called VX-880.
The first patient received his dose earlier in 2021. In October, Vertex released 90-day results from the Phase 1/2 trial, which revealed the patient was able to reduce his insulin usage from an average of 34 units per day to just 2.9 units per day. The tradeoff is a lifelong need for immunosuppressive drugs to prevent the body from attacking both foreign cells and pancreatic beta cells. It’s what recipients of ViaCyte’s first-gen PEC-Direct will also need. For Foyt, it’s an easy choice.
“At this point in time, immunosuppression is the necessary evil,” he says. “For parents, would you like to worry about going into your child’s bedroom every morning and not knowing if they’re going to be alive or dead? It’s uncommon, but it does occur.”
Not everyone, however, finds the trade-off easy to swallow. Especially with COVID-19 cases reaching record highs, the prospect of reducing his immune function at a time when he needs it most doesn’t sit well with Huntley. The risks of immunosuppression also mean that diabetes cell therapies are limited to those patients with life-threatening complications.
It’s why ViaCyte has created two new iterations of cellular therapies that would eliminate this need. The ViaCyte-Encap contains the cells in a permeable container that allows oxygen, insulin, and nutrients to flow freely but prevents immune system access. Their latest model, PEC-QT, just began safety trials with Shapiro’s lab at the University of Alberta and uses gene editing to eliminate any cellular markers that would trigger an immune response.
Sanjoy Dutta, vice president of research at JDRF International, a nonprofit that funds the study of diabetes, is thrilled with the progress that’s been made around cell therapies, but he cautions it’s still early days. “We have proven that these cells can be made. What we haven’t seen is are they going to work for six months, two years, five years? It’s a challenge we still need to overcome,” he says.
Iowa social worker Jodi Lynn’s concerns echo Dutta’s. Lynn was diagnosed with diabetes in 1998 at age 14 after a bout of severe influenza, spends each day inventorying supplies, planning her food intake, and maintaining her insulin pump and glucose monitor. These newer technologies dramatically improved her blood sugar control but, like everyone with diabetes, Lynn remains at high risk for complications, such as diabetic ketoacidosis, heart disease, vision loss, and kidney failure. Lynn, already considered immunocompromised due to medications she takes for another autoimmune condition, is less concerned with immune suppression than the untested nature of these therapies.
“I want to know that they will work long-term,” she says.