Can AI help create “smart borders” between countries?
In 2016, border patrols in Greece, Latvia and Hungary received a prototype for an AI-powered lie detector to help screen asylum seekers. The detector, called iBorderCtrl, was funded by the European Commission in hopes to eventually mitigate refugee crises like the one sparked by the Syrian civil war a year prior.
iBorderCtrl, which analyzes micro expressions in the face, received but one slice of the Commission’s €34.9 billion border control and migration management budget. Still in development is the more ambitious EuMigraTool, a predictive AI system that will process internet news and social media posts to estimate not only the number of migrants heading for a particular country, but also the “risks of tensions between migrants and EU citizens.”
Both iBorderCtrl and EuMigraTool are part of a broader trend: the growing digitization of migration-related technologies. Outside of the EU, in refugee camps in Jordan, the United Nations introduced iris scanning software to distribute humanitarian aid, including food and medicine. And in the United States, Customs and Border Protection has attempted to automate its services through an app called CBP One, which both travelers and asylum seekers can use to apply for I-94 forms, the arrival-departure record cards for people who are not U.S. citizens or permanent residents.
According to Koen Leurs, professor of gender, media and migration studies at Utrecht University in the Netherlands, we have arrived at a point where migration management has become so reliant on digital technology that the former can no longer be studied in isolation from the latter. Investigating this reliance for his new book, Digital Migration, Leurs came to the conclusion that applications like those mentioned above are more often than not a double-edged sword, presenting both benefits and drawbacks.
There has been “a huge acceleration” in the way digital technologies “dehumanize people,” says Koen Leurs, professor of gender, media and migration studies at Utrecht University in the Netherlands. Governments treat asylum seekers as test subjects for new inventions, all along the borders of the developed world.
On the one hand, digital technology can make migration management more efficient and less labor intensive, enabling countries to process larger numbers of people in a time when global movement is on the rise due to globalization and political instability. Leurs also discovered that informal knowledge networks such as Informed Immigrant, an online resource that connects migrants to social workers and community organizers, have positively impacted the lives of their users. The same, Leurs notes, is true of platforms like Twitter, Facebook, and WhatsApp, all of which migrants use to stay in touch with each other as well as their families back home. “The emotional support you receive through social media is something we all came to appreciate during the COVID pandemic,” Leurs says. “For refugees, this had already been common knowledge for years.”
On the flipside, automatization of migration management – particularly through the use of AI – has spawned extensive criticism from human rights activists. Sharing their sentiment, Leurs attests that many so-called innovations are making life harder for migrants, not easier. He also says there has been “a huge acceleration” in the way digital technologies “dehumanize people,” and that governments treat asylum seekers as test subjects for new inventions, all along the borders of the developed world.
In Jordan, for example, refugees had to scan their irises in order to collect aid, prompting the question of whether such measures are ethical. Speaking to Reuters, Petra Molnar, a fellow at Harvard University’s Berkman Klein Center for Internet and Society, said that she was troubled by the fact that this experiment was done on marginalized people. “The refugees are guinea pigs,” she said. “Imagine what would happen at your local grocery store if all of a sudden iris scanning became a thing,” she pointed out. “People would be up in arms. But somehow it is OK to do it in a refugee camp.”
Artificial intelligence programs have been scrutinized for their unreliability, their complex processing, thwarted by the race and gender biases picked up from training data. In 2019, a female reporter from The Intercept tested iBorderCtrl and, despite answering all questions truthfully, was accused by the machine of lying four out of 16 times. Had she been waiting at checkpoint on the Greek or Latvian border, she would have been flagged for additional screening – a measure that could jeopardize her chance of entry. Because of its biases, and the negative press that this attracted, iBorderCtrl did not move past its test phase.
While facial recognition caused problems on the European border, it was helpful in Ukraine, where programs like those developed by software company Clearview AI are used to spot Russian spies, identify dead soldiers, and check movement in and out of war zones.
In April 2021, not long after iBorderCtrl was shut down, the European Commission proposed the world’s first-ever legal framework for AI regulation: the Artificial Intelligence Act. The act, which is still being developed, promises to prevent potentially “harmful” AI practices from being used in migration management. In the most recent draft, approved by the European Parliament’s Liberties and Internal Market committees, the ban included emotion recognition systems (like iBorderCtrl), predictive policing systems (like EUMigraTool), and biometric categorization systems (like iris scanners). The act also stipulates that AI must be subject to strict oversight and accountability measures.
While some worry the AI Act is not comprehensive enough, others wonder if it is in fact going too far. Indeed, many proponents of machine learning argue that, by placing a categorical ban on certain systems, governments will thwart the development of potentially useful technology. While facial recognition caused problems on the European border, it was helpful in Ukraine, where programs like those developed by software company Clearview AI are used to spot Russian spies, identify dead soldiers, and check movement in and out of war zones.
Instead of flat-out banning AI, why not strive to make it more reliable? “One of the most compelling arguments against AI is that it is inherently biased,” says Vera Raposo, an assistant professor of law at NOVA University in Lisbon specializing in digital law. “In truth, AI itself is not biased; it becomes biased due to human influence. It seems that complete eradication of biases is unattainable, but mitigation is possible. We can strive to reduce biases by employing more comprehensive and unbiased data in AI training and encompassing a wider range of individuals. We can also work on developing less biased algorithms, although this is challenging given that coders, being human, inherently possess biases of their own.”
AI is most effective when it enhances human performance rather than replacing it.
Accessibility is another obstacle that needs to be overcome. Leurs points out that, in migration management, AI often functions as a “black box” because the migration officers operating it are unable to comprehend its complex decision-making process and thus unable to scrutinize its results. One solution to this problem is to have law enforcement work closely with AI experts. Alternatively, machine learning could be limited to gathering and summarizing information, leaving evaluation of that information to actual people.
Raposo agrees AI is most effective when it enhances human performance rather than replacing it. On the topic of transparency, she does note that making an AI that is both sophisticated and easy to understand is a little bit like having your cake and eating it too. “In numerous domains,” she explains, “we might need to accept a reduced level of explainability in exchange for a high degree of accuracy (assuming we cannot have both).” Using healthcare as an analogy, she adds that “some medications work in ways not fully understood by either doctors or pharma companies, yet persist due to demonstrated efficacy in clinical trials.”
Leurs believes digital technologies used in migration management can be improved through a push for more conscientious research. “Technology is a poison and a medicine for that poison,” he argues, which is why new tech should be developed with its potential applications in mind. “Ethics has become a major concern in recent years. Increasingly, and particularly in the study of forced migration, researchers are posing critical questions like ‘what happens with the data that is gathered?’ and ‘who will this harm?’” In some cases, Leurs thinks, that last question may need to be reversed: we should be thinking about how we can actively disarm oppressive structures. “After all, our work should align with the interests of the communities it is going to affect.”
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.”