SCOOP: Largest Cryobank in the U.S. to Offer Ancestry Testing
Sharon Kochlany and Vanessa Colimorio's four-year-old twin girls had a classic school assignment recently: make a family tree. They drew themselves and their one-year-old brother branching off from their moms, with aunts, uncles, and grandparents forking off to the sides.
The recently-gained sovereignty of queer families stands to be lost if a consumer DNA test brings a stranger's identity out of the woodwork.
What you don't see in the invisible space between Kochlany and Colimorio, however, is the sperm donor they used to conceive all three children.
To look at a family tree like this is to see in its purest form that kinship can supersede biology—the boundaries of where this family starts and stops are clear to everyone in it, in spite of a third party's genetic involvement. This kind of self-definition has always been synonymous with LGBTQ families, especially those that rely on donor gametes (sperm or eggs) to exist.
But the world around them has changed quite suddenly: The recent consumer DNA testing boom has made it more complicated than ever for families built through reproductive technology—openly, not secretively—to maintain the strong sense of autonomy and privacy that can be crucial for their emotional security. Prospective parents and cryobanks are now mulling how best to bring a new generation of donor-conceived people into this world in a way that leaves open the choice to know more about their ancestry without obliterating an equally important choice: the right not to know about biological relatives.
For queer parents who have long fought for social acceptance, having a biological relationship to their children has been revolutionary, and using an unknown donor as a means to this end especially so. Getting help from a friend often comes with the expectation that the friend will also have social involvement in the family, which some people are comfortable with, but being able to access sperm from an unknown donor—which queer parents have only been able to openly do since the early 1980s—grants them the reproductive autonomy to create families seemingly on their own. That recently-gained sovereignty stands to be lost if a consumer DNA test brings a stranger's identity out of the woodwork.
At the same time, it's natural for donor-conceived people to want to know more about where they come from ethnically, even if they don't want to know the identity of their donor. As a donor-conceived person myself, I know my donor's self-reported ethnicity, but have often wondered how accurate it is.
Opening the Pandora's box of a consumer DNA test as a way to find out has always felt profoundly unappealing to me, however. Many people have accidentally learned they're donor-conceived by unwittingly using these tools, but I already know that about myself going in, and subsequently know I'll be connected to a large web of people whose existence I'm not interested in learning about. In addition to possibly identifying my anonymous donor, his family could also show up, along with any donor-siblings—other people with whom I share a donor. My single lesbian mom is enough for me, and the trade off to learn more about my ethnic ancestry has never seemed worth it.
In 1992, when I was born, no one was planning for how consumer DNA tests might upend or illuminate one's sense of self. But the donor community has always had to stay nimble with balancing privacy concerns and psychological well-being, so it should come as no surprise that figuring out how to do so in 2020 includes finding a way to offer ancestry insight while circumventing consumer DNA tests.
A New Paradigm
This is the rationale behind unprecedented industry news that LeapsMag can exclusively break: Within the next few weeks, California Cryobank, the largest cryobank in the country, will begin offering genetically-verified ancestry information on the free public part of every donor's anonymous profile in its database, something no other cryobanks yet offer (an exact launch date was not available at the time of publication). Currently, California Cryobank's donor profiles include a short self-reported list that might merely say, "Ancestry: German, Lebanese, Scottish."
The new information will be a report in pie chart form that details exactly what percentages of a donor's DNA come from up to 26 ethnicities—it's analogous to, but on a smaller scale than, the format offered by consumer DNA testing companies, and uses the same base technology that looks for single nucleotide polymorphisms in DNA that are associated with specific ethnicities. But crucially, because the donor takes the DNA test through California Cryobank, not a consumer-facing service, the information is not connected in a network to anyone else's DNA test. It's also taken before any offspring exist so there's no chance of revealing a donor-conceived person's identity this way.
Later, when a donor-conceived person is born, grows up, and wants information about their ethnicity from the donor side, all they need is their donor's anonymous ID number to look it up. The donor-conceived person never takes a genetic test, and therefore also can't accidentally find donor siblings this way. People who want to be connected to donor siblings can use a sibling registry where other people who want to be found share donor ID numbers and look for matches (this is something that's been available for decades, and remains so).
"With genetic testing, you have no control over who reaches out to you, and at what point in your life."
California Cryobank will require all new donors to consent to this extra level of genetic testing, setting a new standard for what information prospective parents and donor-conceived people can expect to have. In the immediate, this information will be most useful for prospective parents looking for donors with specific backgrounds, possibly ones similar to their own.
It's a solution that was actually hiding in plain sight. Two years ago, California Cryobank's partner Sema4, the company handling the genetic carrier testing that's used to screen for heritable diseases, started analyzing ethnic data in its samples. That extra information was being collected because it can help calculate a more accurate assessment of genetic risks that run in certain populations—like Ashkenazi Jews and Tay Sachs disease—than relying on oral family histories. Shortly after a plan to start collecting these extra data, Jamie Shamonki, chief medical officer of California Cryobank, realized the companies would be sitting on a goldmine for a different reason.
"I didn't want to use one of these genetic testing companies like Ancestry to accomplish this," says Shamonki. "The whole thing we're trying to accomplish is also privacy."
Consumer-facing DNA testing companies are not HIPAA compliant (whereas Sema4, which isn't direct-to-consumer, is HIPAA compliant), which means there are no legal privacy protections covering people who add their DNA to these databases. Although some companies, like 23andMe, allow users to opt-out of being connected with genetic relatives, the language can be confusing to navigate, requires a high level of knowledge and self-advocacy on the user's part, and, as an opt-out system, is not set up to protect the user from unwanted information by default; many unwittingly walk right into such information as a result.
Additionally, because consumer-facing DNA testing companies operate outside the legal purview that applies to other health care entities, like hospitals, even a person who does opt-out of being linked to genetic relatives is not protected in perpetuity from being re-identified in the future by a change in company policy. The safest option for people with privacy concerns is to stay out of these databases altogether.
For California Cryobank, the new information about donor heritage won't retroactively be added to older profiles in the system, so donor-conceived people who already exist won't benefit from the ancestry tool, but it'll be the new standard going forward. The company has about 500 available donors right now, many of which have been in their registry for a while; about 100 of those donors, all new, will have this ancestry data on their profiles.
Shamonki says it has taken about two years to get to the point of publicly including ancestry information on a donor's profile because it takes about nine months of medical and psychological screening for a donor to go from walking through the door to being added to their registry. The company wanted to wait to launch until it could offer this information for a significant number of donors. As more new donors come online under the new protocol, the number with ancestry information on their profiles will go up.
For Parents: An Unexpected Complication
While this change will no doubt be welcome progress for LGBTQ families contemplating parenthood, it'll never be possible to put this entire new order back in the box. What are such families who already have donor-conceived children losing in today's world of widespread consumer genetic testing?
Kochlany and Colimorio's twins aren't themselves much older than the moment at-home DNA testing really started to take off. They were born in 2015, and two years later the industry saw its most significant spike. By now, more than 26 million people's DNA is in databases like 23andMe and Ancestry; as a result, it's estimated that within a year, 90 percent of Americans of European descent will be identifiable through these consumer databases, by way of genetic third cousins, even if they didn't want to be found and never took the test themselves. This was the principle behind solving the Golden State Killer cold case.
The waning of privacy through consumer DNA testing fundamentally clashes with the priorities of the cyrobank industry, which has long sought to protect the privacy of donor-conceived people, even as open identification became standard. Since the 1980s, donors have been able to allow their identity to be released to any offspring who is at least 18 and wants the information. Lesbian moms pushed for this option early on so their children—who would obviously know they couldn't possibly be the biological product of both parents—would never feel cut off from the chance to know more about themselves. But importantly, the openness is not a two-way street: the donors can't ever ask for the identities of their offspring. It's the latter that consumer DNA testing really puts at stake.
"23andMe basically created the possibility that there will be donors who will have contact with their donor-conceived children, and that's not something that I think the donor community is comfortable with," says I. Glenn Cohen, director of Harvard Law School's Center for Health Law Policy, Biotechnology & Bioethics. "That's about the donor's autonomy, not the rearing parents' autonomy, or the donor-conceived child's autonomy."
Kochlany and Colimorio have an open identification donor and fully support their children reaching out to California Cryobank to get more information about him if they want to when they're 18, but having a singular name revealed isn't the same thing as having contact, nor is it the same thing as revealing a web of dozens of extended genetic relations. Their concern now is that if their kids participate in genetic testing, a stranger—someone they're careful to refer to as only "the donor" and never "dad"—will reach out to the children to begin some kind of relationship. They know other people who are contemplating giving their children DNA tests, and feel staunchly that it wouldn't be right for their family.
"With genetic testing, you have no control over who reaches out to you, and at what point in your life," Kochlany says. "[People] reaching out and trying to say, 'Hey I know who your dad is' throws a curveball. It's like, 'Wait, I never thought I had a dad.' It might put insecurities in their minds."
"We want them to have the opportunity to choose whether or not they want to reach out," Colimorio adds.
Kochlany says that when their twins are old enough to start asking questions, she and Colimorio plan to frame it like this: "The donor was kind of like a technology that helped us make you a person, and make sure that you exist," she says, role playing a conversation with their kids. "But it's not necessarily that you're looking to this person [for] support or love, or because you're missing a piece."
It's a line in the sand that's present even for couples still far off from conceiving. When Mallory Schwartz, a film and TV producer in Los Angeles, and Lauren Pietra, a marriage and family therapy associate (and Shamonki's step-daughter), talk about getting married someday, it's a package deal with talking about how they'll approach having kids. They feel there are too many variables and choices to make around family planning as a same-sex couple these days to not have those conversations simultaneously. Consumer DNA databases are already on their minds.
"It frustrates me that the DNA databases are just totally unregulated," says Schwartz. "I hope they are by the time we do this. I think everyone deserves a right to privacy when making your family [using a sperm donor]."
"I wouldn't want to create a world where people who are donor-conceived feel like they can't participate in this technology because they're trying to shut out [other] information."
On the prospect of having a donor relation pop up non-consensually for a future child, Pietra says, "I don't like it. It would be really disappointing if the child didn't want [contact], and unfortunately they're on the receiving end."
You can see how important preserving the right to keep this door closed is when you look at what's going on at The Sperm Bank of California. This pioneering cryobank was the first in the world to openly serve LGBTQ people and single women, and also the first to offer the open identification option when it opened in 1982, but not as many people are asking for their donor's identity as expected.
"We're finding a third of young people are coming forward for their donor's identity," says Alice Ruby, executive director. "We thought it would be a higher number." Viewed the other way, two-thirds of the donor-conceived people who could ethically get their donor's identity through The Sperm Bank of California are not asking the cryobank for it.
Ruby says that part of what historically made an open identification program appealing, rather than invasive or nerve-wracking, is how rigidly it's always been formatted around mutual consent, and protects against surprises for all parties. Those [donor-conceived people] who wanted more information were never barred from it, while those who wanted to remain in the dark could. No one group's wish eclipsed the other's. The potential breakdown of a system built around consent, expectations, and respect for privacy is why unregulated consumer DNA testing is most concerning to her as a path for connecting with genetic relatives.
For the last few decades in cryobanks around the world, the largest cohort of people seeking out donor sperm has been lesbian couples, followed by single women. For infertile heterosexual couples, the smallest client demographic, Ruby says donor sperm offers a solution to a medical problem, but in contrast, it historically "provided the ability for [lesbian] couples and single moms to have some reproductive autonomy." Yes, it was still a solution to a biological problem, but it was also a solution to a social one.
The Sperm Bank of California updated its registration forms to include language urging parents, donor-conceived people, and donors not to use consumer DNA tests, and to go through the cryobank if they, understandably, want to learn more about who they're connected to. But truthfully, there's not much else cryobanks can do to protect clients on any side of the donor transaction from surprise contact right now—especially not from relatives of the donor who may not even know someone in their family has donated sperm.
A Tricky Position
Personally, I've known I was donor-conceived from day one. It has never been a source of confusion, angst, or curiosity, and in fact has never loomed particularly large for me in any way. I see it merely as a type of reproductive technology—on par with in vitro fertilization—that enabled me to exist, and, now that I do exist, is irrelevant. Being confronted with my donor's identity or any donor siblings would make this fact of my conception bigger than I need it to be, as an adult with a full-blown identity derived from all of my other life experiences. But I still wonder about the minutiae of my ethnicity in much the same way as anyone else who wonders, and feel there's no safe way for me to find out without relinquishing some of my existential independence.
The author and her mom in spring of 1998.
"People obviously want to participate in 23andMe and Ancestry because they're interested in knowing more about themselves," says Shamonki. "I wouldn't want to create a world where people who are donor-conceived feel like they can't participate in this technology because they're trying to shut out [other] information."
After all, it was the allure of that exact conceit—knowing more about oneself—that seemed to magnetically draw in millions of people to these tools in the first place. It's an experience that clearly taps into a population-wide psychic need, even—perhaps especially—if one's origins are a mystery.
Interview with Jamie Metzl: We need a global OS upgrade
In this Q&A, leading technology and healthcare futurist Jamie Metzl discusses a range of topics and trend lines that will unfold over the next several decades: whether a version of Moore's Law applies to genetic technologies, the ethics of genetic engineering, the dangers of gene hacking, the end of sex, and much more.
Metzl is a member of the WHO expert advisory committee on human genome editing and the bestselling author of Hacking Darwin.
The conversation was lightly edited by Leaps.org for style and length.
In Hacking Darwin, you describe how we may modify the human body with CRISPR technologies, initially to obtain unsurpassed sports performance and then to enhance other human characteristics. What would such power over human biology mean for the future of our civilization?
After nearly four billion years of evolution, our one species suddenly has the increasing ability to read, write, and hack the code of life. This will have massive implications across the board, including in human health and reproduction, plant and animal agriculture, energy and advanced materials, and data storage and computing, just to name a few. My book Hacking Darwin: Genetic Engineering and the Future of Humanity primarly explored how we are currently deploying and will increasingly use our capabilities to transform human life in novel ways. My next book, The Great Biohack: Recasting Life in an Age of Revolutionary Technology, coming out in May 2024, will examine the broader implications for all of life on Earth.
We humans will, over time, use these technologies on ourselves to solve problems and eventually to enhance our capabilities. We need to be extremely conservative, cautious, and careful in doing so, but doing so will almost certainly be part of our future as a species.
In electronics, Moore's law is an established theory that computing power doubles every 18 months. Is there any parallel to be drawn with genetic technologies?
The increase in speed and decrease in costs of genome sequencing have progressed far faster than Moore’s law. It took thirteen years and cost about a billion dollars to sequence the first human genome. Today it takes just a few hours and can cost as little as a hundred dollars to do a far better job. In 2012, Jennifer Doudna and Emmanuel Charpentier published the basic science paper outlining the CRISPR-cas9 genome editing tool that would eventually win them the Nobel prize. Only six years later, the first CRISPR babies were born in China. If it feels like technology is moving ever-faster, that’s because it is.
Let's turn to the topic of aging. Do you think that the field of genetics will advance fast enough to eventually increase maximal lifespan for a child born this year? How about for a person who is currently age 50?
The science of aging is definitely real, but that doesn’t mean we will live forever. Aging is a biological process subject to human manipulation. Decades of animal research shows that. This does not mean we will live forever, but it does me we will be able to do more to expand our healthspans, the period of our lives where we are able to live most vigorously.
The first thing we need to do is make sure everyone on earth has access to the resources necessary to live up to their potential. I live in New York City, and I can take a ten minute subway ride to a neighborhood where the average lifespan is over a decade shorter than in mine. This is true within societies and between countries as well. Secondly, we all can live more like people in the Blue Zones, parts of the world where people live longer, on average, than the rest of us. They get regular exercise, eat healthy foods, have strong social connections, etc. Finally, we will all benefit, over time, from more scientific interventions to extend our healthspan. This may include small molecule drugs like metformin, rapamycin, and NAD+ boosters, blood serum infusions, and many other things.
Science fiction has depicted a future where we will never get sick again, stay young longer or become immortal. Assuming that any of this is remotely possible, should we be afraid of such changes, even if they seem positive in some regards, because we can’t understand the full implications at this point?
Not all of these promises will be realized in full, but we will use these technologies to help us live healthier, longer lives. We will never become immortal becasue nothing lasts forever. We will always get sick, even if the balance of diseases we face shifts over time, as it has always done. It is healthy, and absolutely necessary, that we feel both hope and fear about this future. If we only feel hope, we will blind ourselves to the very real potential downsides. If we only feel fear, we will deny ourselves the very meaningful benefits these technologies have the potential to provide.
A fascinating chapter in Hacking Darwin is entitled The End of Sex. And you see that as a good thing?
We humans will always be a sexually reproducing species, it’s just that we’ll reproduce increasingly less through the physical act of sex. We’re already seeing this with IVF. As the benefits of technology assisted reproduction increase relative to reproduction through the act of sex, many people will come to see assisted reproduction as a better way to reduce risk and, over time, possibly increase benefits. We’ll still have sex for all the other wonderful reasons we have it today, just less for reproduction. There will always be a critical place in our world for Italian romantics!
What are dangers of genetic hackers, perhaps especially if everyone’s DNA is eventually transcribed for medical purposes and available on the internet and in the cloud?
The sky is really the limit for how we can use gentic technologies to do things we may want, and the sky is also the limit for potential harms. It’s quite easy to imagine scenarios in which malevolent actors create synthetic pathogens designed to wreak havoc, or where people steal and abuse other people’s genetic information. It wouldn’t even need to be malevolent actors. Even well-intentioned researchers making unintended mistakes could cause real harm, as we may have seen with COVID-19 if, as appears likely to me, the pandemic stems for a research related incident]. That’s why we need strong governance and regulatory systems to optimize benefits and minimize potential harms. I was honored to have served on the World Health Organization Expert Advisory Committee on Human Genome Editing, were we developed a proposed framework for how this might best be achieved.
You foresee the equivalent of a genetic arms race between the world's most powerful countries. In what sense are genetic technologies similar to weapons?
Genetic technologies could be used to create incredibly powerful bioweapons or to build gene drives with the potential to crash entire ecosystems. That’s why thoughtful regulation is in order. Because the benefits of mastering and deploying these technologies are so great, there’s also a real danger of a genetics arms race. This could be extremely dangerous and will need to be prevented.
In your book, you express concern that states lacking Western conceptions of human rights are especially prone to misusing the science of genetics. Does this same concern apply to private companies? How much can we trust them to control and wield these technologies?
This is a conversation about science and technology but it’s really a conversation about values. If we don’t agree on what core values should be promoted, it will be nearly impossible to agree on what actions do and do not make sense. We need norms, laws, and values frameworks that apply to everyone, including governments, corporations, researchers, healthcare providers, DiY bio hobbyists, and everyone else.
We have co-evolved with our technology for a very long time. Many of our deepest beliefs have formed in that context and will continue to do so. But as we take for ourselves the powers we have attributed to our various gods, many of these beliefs will be challenged. We can not and must not jettison our beliefs in the face of technology, and must instead make sure our most cherished values guide the application of our most powerful technologies.
A conversation on international norms is in full swing in the field of AI, prompted by the release of ChatGPT4 earlier this year. Are there ways in which it’s inefficient, shortsighted or otherwise problematic for these discussions on gene technologies, AI and other advances to be occurring in silos? In addition to more specific guidelines, is there something to be gained from developing a universal set of norms and values that applies more broadly to all innovation?
AI is yet another technology where the potential to do great good is tied to the potential to inflict signifcant harm. It makes no sense that we tend to treat each technology on its own rather than looking at the entire category of challenges. For sure, we need to very rapidly ramp up our efforts with regard to AI norm-setting, regulations, and governance at all levels. But just doing that will be kind of like generating a flu vaccine for each individual flu strain. Far better to build a universal flu vaccine addressing common elements of all flu viruses of concern.
That’s why we also need to be far more deliberate in both building a global operating systems based around the mutual responsibilities of our global interdependence and, under that umbrella, a broader system for helping us govern and regulate revolutionary technologies. Such a process might begin with a large international conference, the equivalent of Rio 1992 for climate change, but then quickly work to establish and share best practices, help build parallel institutions in all countries so people and governamts can talk with each other, and do everything possible to maximize benefits and minimize risks at all levels in an ongoing and dynamic way.
At what point might genetic enhancements lead to a reclassfication of modified humans as another species?
We’ll still all be fellow humans for a very, very long time. We already have lots of variation between us. That is the essence of biology. Will some humans, at some point in the future, leave Earth and spend generations elsewhere? I believe so. In those new environments, humans will evolve, over time, differently than those if us who remain on this planet? This may sound like science fiction, but the sci-fi future is coming at us faster than most people realize.
Is the concept of human being changing?
Yes. It always has and always will.
Another big question raised in your book: what limits should we impose on the freedom to manipulate genetics?
Different societies will come to different conclusion on this critical question. I am sympathetic to the argument that people should have lots of say over their own bodies, which why I support abortion rights even though I recognize that an abortion can be a violent procedure. But it would be insane and self-defeating to say that individuals have an unlimited right to manipulate their own or their future children’s heritable genetics. The future of human life is all of our concern and must be regulated, albeit wisely.
In some cases, such as when we have the ability to prevent a deadly genetic disroder, it might be highly ethical to manipulate other human beings. In other circumstances, the genetic engineering of humans might be highly unethical. The key point is to avoid asking this question in a binary manner. We need to weigh the costs and benefits of each type of intervention. We need societal and global infrastrucutres to do that well. We don’t yet have those but we need them badly.
Can you tell us more about your next book?
The Great Biohack: Recasting Lifee in an Age of Revolutionary Technology, will come out in May 2024. It explores what the intersecting AI, genetics, and biotechnology revolutions will mean for the future of life on earth, including our healthcare, agriculture, industry, computing, and everything else. We are at a transitional moment for life on earth, equivalent to the dawn of agriculture, electricity, and industrialization. The key differentiator between better and worse outcomes is what we do today, at this early stage of this new transformation. The book describes what’s happening, what’s at stake, and what we each and all can and, frankly, must do to build the type of future we’d like to inhabit.
You’ve been a leader of international efforts calling for a full investigation into COVID-19 origins and are the founder of the global movement OneShared.World. What problem are you trying to solve through OneShared.World?
The biggest challenge we face today is the mismatch between the nature of our biggest problems, global and common, and the absence of a sufficient framework for addressing that entire category of challenges. The totally avoidable COVID-19 pandemic is one example of the extremet costs of the status quo. OneShared.World is our effort to fight for an upgrade in our world’s global operating system, based around the mutual responsibilities of interdependence. We’ve had global OS upgrades before after the Thirty Years War and after World War II, but wouldn’t it be better to make the necessary changes now to prevent a crisis of that level stemming from a nuclear war, ecosystem collapse, or deadlier synthetic biology pandemic rather than waiting until after? Revolutionary science is a global issue that must be wisely managed at every level if it is to be wisely managed at all.
How do we ensure that revolutionary technologies benefit humanity instead of undermining it?
That is the essential question. It’s why I’ve written Hacking Darwin, am writing The Great Biohack, and doing the rest of my work. If we want scietific revolutions to help, rather than hurt, us, we must all play a role building that future. This isn’t just a conversation about science, it’s about how we can draw on our most cherished values to guide the optimal development of science and technology for the common good. That must be everyone’s business.
Portions of this interview were first published in Grassia (Italy) and Zen Portugal.
Jamie Metzl is one of the world’s leading technology and healthcare futurists and author of the bestselling book, Hacking Darwin: Genetic Engineering and the Future of Humanity, which has been translated into 15 languages. In 2019, he was appointed to the World Health Organization expert advisory committee on human genome editing. Jamie is a faculty member of Singularity University and NextMed Health, a Senior Fellow of the Atlantic Council, and Founder and Chair of the global social movement, OneShared.World.
Called “the original COVID-19 whistleblower,” his pioneering role advocating for a full investigation into the origins of the COVID-19 pandemic has been featured in 60 Minutes, the New York Times, and most major media across the globe, and he was the lead witness in the first congressional hearings on this topic. Jamie previously served in the U.S. National Security Council, State Department, and Senate Foreign Relations Committee and with the United Nations in Cambodia. Jamie appears regularly on national and international media and his syndicated columns and other writing in science, technology, and global affairs are featured in publications around the world.
Jamie sits on advisory boards for multiple biotechnology and other companies and is Special Strategist to the WisdomTree BioRevolution Exchange Traded Fund. In addition to Hacking Darwin, he is author of a history of the Cambodian genocide, the historical novel The Depths of the Sea, and the genetics sci-fi thrillers Genesis Code and Eternal Sonata. His next book, The Great Biohack: Recasting Life in an age of Revolutionary Technology, will be published by Hachette in May 2024. Jamie holds a Ph.D. from Oxford, a law degree from Harvard, and an undergraduate degree from Brown and is an avid ironman triathlete and ultramarathon runner.
Creamy milk with velvety texture. Dark with sprinkles of sea salt. Crunchy hazelnut-studded chunks. Chocolate is a treat that appeals to billions of people worldwide, no matter the age. And it’s not only the taste, but the feel of a chocolate morsel slowly melting in our mouths—the smoothness and slipperiness—that’s part of the overwhelming satisfaction. Why is it so enjoyable?
That’s what an interdisciplinary research team of chocolate lovers from the University of Leeds School of Food Science and Nutrition and School of Mechanical Engineering in the U.K. resolved to study in 2021. They wanted to know, “What is making chocolate that desirable?” says Siavash Soltanahmadi, one of the lead authors of a new study about chocolates hedonistic quality.
Besides addressing the researchers’ general curiosity, their answers might help chocolate manufacturers make the delicacy even more enjoyable and potentially healthier. After all, chocolate is a billion-dollar industry. Revenue from chocolate sales, whether milk or dark, is forecasted to grow 13 percent by 2027 in the U.K. In the U.S., chocolate and candy sales increased by 11 percent from 2020 to 2021, on track to reach $44.9 billion by 2026. Figuring out how chocolate affects the human palate could up the ante even more.
Building a 3D tongue
The team began by building a 3D tongue to analyze the physical process by which chocolate breaks down inside the mouth.
As part of the effort, reported earlier this year in the scientific journal ACS Applied Materials and Interfaces, the team studied a large variety of human tongues with the intention to build an “average” 3D model, says Soltanahmadi, a lubrication scientist. When it comes to edible substances, lubrication science looks at how food feels in the mouth and can help design foods that taste better and have more satisfying texture or health benefits.
There are variations in how people enjoy chocolate; some chew it while others “lick it” inside their mouths.
Tongue impressions from human participants studied using optical imaging helped the team build a tongue with key characteristics. “Our tongue is not a smooth muscle, it’s got some texture, it has got some roughness,” Soltanahmadi says. From those images, the team came up with a digital design of an average tongue and, using 3D printed molds, built a “mimic tongue.” They also added elastomers—such as silicone or polyurethane—to mimic the roughness, the texture and the mechanical properties of a real tongue. “Wettability" was another key component of the 3D tongue, Soltanahmadi says, referring to whether a surface mixes with water (hydrophilic) or, in the case of oil, resists it (hydrophobic).
Notably, the resulting artificial 3D-tongues looked nothing like the human version, but they were good mimics. The scientists also created “testing kits” that produced data on various physical parameters. One such parameter was viscosity, the measure of how gooey a food or liquid is — honey is more viscous compared to water, for example. Another was tribology, which defines how slippery something is — high fat yogurt is more slippery than low fat yogurt; milk can be more slippery than water. The researchers then mixed chocolate with artificial saliva and spread it on the 3D tongue to measure the tribology and the viscosity. From there they were able to study what happens inside the mouth when we eat chocolate.
The team focused on the stages of lubrication and the location of the fat in the chocolate, a process that has rarely been researched.
The artificial 3D-tongues look nothing like human tongues, but they function well enough to do the job.
Courtesy Anwesha Sarkar and University of Leeds
The oral processing of chocolate
We process food in our mouths in several stages, Soltanahmadi says. And there is variation in these stages depending on the type of food. So, the oral processing of a piece of meat would be different from, say, the processing of jelly or popcorn.
There are variations with chocolate, in particular; some people chew it while others use their tongues to explore it (within their mouths), Soltanahmadi explains. “Usually, from a consumer perspective, what we find is that if you have a luxury kind of a chocolate, then people tend to start with licking the chocolate rather than chewing it.” The researchers used a luxury brand of dark chocolate and focused on the process of licking rather than chewing.
As solid cocoa particles and fat are released, the emulsion envelops the tongue and coats the palette creating a smooth feeling of chocolate all over the mouth. That tactile sensation is part of the chocolate’s hedonistic appeal we crave.
Understanding the make-up of the chocolate was also an important step in the study. “Chocolate is a composite material. So, it has cocoa butter, which is oil, it has some particles in it, which is cocoa solid, and it has sugars," Soltanahmadi says. "Dark chocolate has less oil, for example, and less sugar in it, most of the time."
The researchers determined that the oral processing of chocolate begins as soon as it enters a person’s mouth; it starts melting upon exposure to one’s body temperature, even before the tongue starts moving, Soltanahmadi says. Then, lubrication begins. “[Saliva] mixes with the oily chocolate and it makes an emulsion." An emulsion is a fluid with a watery (or aqueous) phase and an oily phase. As chocolate breaks down in the mouth, that solid piece turns into a smooth emulsion with a fatty film. “The oil from the chocolate becomes droplets in a continuous aqueous phase,” says Soltanahmadi. In other words, as solid cocoa particles and fat are released, the emulsion envelops the tongue and coats the palette, creating a smooth feeling of chocolate all over the mouth. That tactile sensation is part of the chocolate’s hedonistic appeal we crave, says Soltanahmadi.
Finding the sweet spot
After determining how chocolate is orally processed, the research team wanted to find the exact sweet spot of the breakdown of solid cocoa particles and fat as they are released into the mouth. They determined that the epicurean pleasure comes only from the chocolate's outer layer of fat; the secondary fatty layers inside the chocolate don’t add to the sensation. It was this final discovery that helped the team determine that it might be possible to produce healthier chocolate that would contain less oil, says Soltanahmadi. And therefore, less fat.
Rongjia Tao, a physicist at Temple University in Philadelphia, thinks the Leeds study and the concept behind it is “very interesting.” Tao, himself, did a study in 2016 and found he could reduce fat in milk chocolate by 20 percent. He believes that the Leeds researchers’ discovery about the first layer of fat being more important for taste than the other layer can inform future chocolate manufacturing. “As a scientist I consider this significant and an important starting point,” he says.
Chocolate is rich in polyphenols, naturally occurring compounds also found in fruits and vegetables, such as grapes, apples and berries. Research found that plant polyphenols can protect against cancer, diabetes and osteoporosis as well as cardiovascular ad neurodegenerative diseases.
Not everyone thinks it’s a good idea, such as chef Michael Antonorsi, founder and owner of Chuao Chocolatier, one of the leading chocolate makers in the U.S. First, he says, “cacao fat is definitely a good fat.” Second, he’s not thrilled that science is trying to interfere with nature. “Every time we've tried to intervene and change nature, we get things out of balance,” says Antonorsi. “There’s a reason cacao is botanically known as food of the gods. The botanical name is the Theobroma cacao: Theobroma in ancient Greek, Theo is God and Brahma is food. So it's a food of the gods,” Antonorsi explains. He’s doubtful that a chocolate made only with a top layer of fat will produce the same epicurean satisfaction. “You're not going to achieve the same sensation because that surface fat is going to dissipate and there is no fat from behind coming to take over,” he says.
Without layers of fat, Antonorsi fears the deeply satisfying experiential part of savoring chocolate will be lost. The University of Leeds team, however, thinks that it may be possible to make chocolate healthier - when consumed in limited amounts - without sacrificing its taste. They believe the concept of less fatty but no less slick chocolate will resonate with at least some chocolate-makers and consumers, too.
Chocolate already contains some healthful compounds. Its cocoa particles have “loads of health benefits,” says Soltanahmadi. Dark chocolate usually has more cocoa than milk chocolate. Some experts recommend that dark chocolate should contain at least 70 percent cocoa in order for it to offer some health benefit. Research has shown that the cocoa in chocolate is rich in polyphenols, naturally occurring compounds also found in fruits and vegetables, such as grapes, apples and berries. Research has shown that consuming plant polyphenols can be protective against cancer, diabetes and osteoporosis as well as cardiovascular and neurodegenerative diseases.
“So keeping the healthy part of it and reducing the oily part of it, which is not healthy, but is giving you that indulgence of it … that was the final aim,” Soltanahmadi says. He adds that the team has been approached by individuals in the chocolate industry about their research. “Everyone wants to have a healthy chocolate, which at the same time tastes brilliant and gives you that self-indulging experience.”