Should Genetic Information About Mental Health Affect Civil Court Cases?
Imagine this scenario: A couple is involved in a heated custody dispute over their only child. As part of the effort to make the case of being a better guardian, one parent goes on a "genetic fishing expedition": this parent obtains a DNA sample from the other parent with the hope that such data will identify some genetic predisposition to a psychiatric condition (e.g., schizophrenia) and tilt the judge's custody decision in his or her favor.
As knowledge of psychiatric genetics is growing, it is likely to be introduced in civil cases, such as child custody disputes and education-related cases, raising a tangle of ethical and legal questions.
This is an example of how "behavioral genetic evidence" -- an umbrella term for information gathered from family history and genetic testing about pathological behaviors, including psychiatric conditions—may in the future be brought by litigants in court proceedings. Such evidence has been discussed primarily when criminal defendants sought to introduce it to make the claim that they are not responsible for their behavior or to justify their request for reduced sentencing and more lenient punishment.
However, civil cases are an emerging frontier for behavioral genetic evidence. It has already been introduced in tort litigation, such as personal injury claims, and as knowledge of psychiatric genetics is growing, it is further likely to be introduced in other civil cases, such as child custody disputes and education-related cases. But the introduction of such evidence raises a tangle of ethical and legal questions that civil courts will need to address. For example: how should such data be obtained? Who should get to present it and under what circumstances? And does the use of such evidence fit with the purposes of administering justice?
How Did We Get Here?
That behavioral genetic evidence is entering courts is unsurprising. Scientific evidence is a common feature of judicial proceedings, and genetic information may reveal relevant findings. For example, genetic evidence may elucidate whether a child's medical condition is due to genetic causes or medical malpractice, and it has been routinely used to identify alleged offenders or putative fathers. But behavioral genetic evidence is different from such other genetic data – it is shades of gray, instead of black and white.
Although efforts to understand the nature and origins of human behavior are ongoing, existing and likely future knowledge about behavioral genetics is limited. Behavioral disorders are highly complex and diverse. They commonly involve not one but multiple genes, each with a relatively small effect. They are impacted by many, yet unknown, interactions between genes, familial, and environmental factors such as poverty and childhood adversity.
And a specific gene variant may be associated with more than one behavioral disorder and be manifested with significantly different symptoms. Thus, biomarkers about "predispositions" for behavioral disorders cannot generally provide a diagnosis or an accurate estimate of whether, when, and at what severity a behavioral disorder will occur. And, unlike genetic testing that can confirm litigants' identity with 99.99% probability, behavioral genetic evidence is far more speculative.
Genetic theft raises questions about whose behavioral data are being obtained, by whom, and with what authority.
Whether judges, jurors, and other experts understand the nuances of behavioral genetics is unclear. Many people over-estimate the deterministic nature of genetics, and under-estimate the role of environments, especially with regards to mental health status. The U.S. individualistic culture of self-reliance and independence may further tilt the judicial scales because litigants in civil courts may be unjustly blamed for their "bad genes" while structural and societal determinants that lead to poor behavioral outcomes are ignored.
These concerns were recently captured in the Netflix series "13 Reasons Why," depicting a negligence lawsuit against a school brought by parents of a high-school student there (Hannah) who committed suicide. The legal tides shifted from the school's negligence in tolerating a culture of bullying to parental responsibility once cross-examination of Hannah's mother revealed a family history of anxiety, and the possibility that Hannah had a predisposition for mental illness, which (arguably) required therapy even in the absence of clear symptoms.
Where Is This Going?
The concerns are exacerbated given the ways in which behavioral genetic evidence may come to court in the future. One way is through "genetic theft," where genetic evidence is obtained from deserted property, such as soft-drink cans. This method is often used for identification purposes such as criminal and paternity proceedings, and it will likely expand to behavioral genetic data once available through "home kits" that are offered by direct-to-consumer companies.
Genetic theft raises questions about whose behavioral data are being obtained, by whom, and with what authority. In the scenario of child-custody dispute, for example, the sequencing of the other parent's DNA will necessarily intrude on the privacy of that parent, even as the scientific value of such information is limited. A parent on a "genetic fishing expedition" can also secretly sequence their child for psychiatric genetic predispositions, arguably, in order to take preventative measures to reduce the child's risk for developing a behavioral disorder. But should a parent be allowed to sequence the child without the other parent's consent, or regardless of whether the results will provide medical benefits to the child?
Similarly, although schools are required, and may be held accountable for failing to identify children with behavioral disabilities and to evaluate their educational needs, some parents may decline their child's evaluation by mental health professionals. Should schools secretly obtain a sample and sequence children for behavioral disorders, regardless of parental consent? My study of parents found that the overwhelming majority opposed imposed genetic testing by school authorities. But should parental preference or the child's best interests be the determinative factor? Alternatively, could schools use secretly obtained genetic data as a defense that they are fulfilling the child-find requirement under the law?
The stigma associated with behavioral disorders may intimidate some people enough that they back down from just claims.
In general, samples obtained through genetic theft may not meet the legal requirements for admissible evidence, and as these examples suggest, they also involve privacy infringement that may be unjustified in civil litigation. But their introduction in courts may influence judicial proceedings. It is hard to disregard such evidence even if decision-makers are told to ignore it.
The costs associated with genetic testing may further intensify power differences among litigants. Because not everyone can pay for DNA sequencing, there is a risk that those with more resources will be "better off" in court proceedings. Simultaneously, the stigma associated with behavioral disorders may intimidate some people enough that they back down from just claims. For example, a good parent may give up a custody claim to avoid disclosure of his or her genetic predispositions for psychiatric conditions. Regulating this area of law is necessary to prevent misuses of scientific technologies and to ensure that powerful actors do not have an unfair advantage over weaker litigants.
Behavioral genetic evidence may also enter the courts through subpoena of data obtained in clinical, research or other commercial genomic settings such as ancestry testing (similar to the genealogy database recently used to identify the Golden State Killer). Although court orders to testify or present evidence are common, their use for obtaining behavioral genetic evidence raises concerns.
One worry is that it may be over-intrusive. Because behavioral genetics are heritable, such data may reveal information not only about the individual litigant but also about other family members who may subsequently be stigmatized as well. And, even if we assume that many people may be willing for their data in genomic databases to be used to identify relatives who committed crimes (e.g., a rapist or a murderer), we can't assume the same for civil litigation, where the public interest in disclosure is far weaker.
Another worry is that it may deter people from participating in activities that society has an interest in advancing, including medical treatment involving genetic testing and genomic research. To address this concern, existing policy provides expanded privacy protections for NIH-funded genomic research by automatically issuing a Certificate of Confidentiality that prohibits disclosure of identifiable information in any Federal, State, or local civil, criminal, and other legal proceedings.
But this policy has limitations. It applies only to specific research settings and does not cover non-NIH funded research or clinical testing. The Certificate's protections can also be waived under certain circumstances. People who volunteer to participate in non-NIH-funded genomic research for the public good may thus find themselves worse-off if embroiled in legal proceedings.
Consider the following: if a parent in a child custody dispute had participated in a genetic study on schizophrenia years earlier, should the genetic results be subpoenaed by the court – and weaponized by the other parent? Public policy should aim to reduce the risks for such individuals. The end of obtaining behavioral genetic evidence cannot, and should not, always justify the means.
DNA- and RNA-based electronic implants may revolutionize healthcare
Implantable electronic devices can significantly improve patients’ quality of life. A pacemaker can encourage the heart to beat more regularly. A neural implant, usually placed at the back of the skull, can help brain function and encourage higher neural activity. Current research on neural implants finds them helpful to patients with Parkinson’s disease, vision loss, hearing loss, and other nerve damage problems. Several of these implants, such as Elon Musk’s Neuralink, have already been approved by the FDA for human use.
Yet, pacemakers, neural implants, and other such electronic devices are not without problems. They require constant electricity, limited through batteries that need replacements. They also cause scarring. “The problem with doing this with electronics is that scar tissue forms,” explains Kate Adamala, an assistant professor of cell biology at the University of Minnesota Twin Cities. “Anytime you have something hard interacting with something soft [like muscle, skin, or tissue], the soft thing will scar. That's why there are no long-term neural implants right now.” To overcome these challenges, scientists are turning to biocomputing processes that use organic materials like DNA and RNA. Other promised benefits include “diagnostics and possibly therapeutic action, operating as nanorobots in living organisms,” writes Evgeny Katz, a professor of bioelectronics at Clarkson University, in his book DNA- And RNA-Based Computing Systems.
While a computer gives these inputs in binary code or "bits," such as a 0 or 1, biocomputing uses DNA strands as inputs, whether double or single-stranded, and often uses fluorescent RNA as an output.
Adamala’s research focuses on developing such biocomputing systems using DNA, RNA, proteins, and lipids. Using these molecules in the biocomputing systems allows the latter to be biocompatible with the human body, resulting in a natural healing process. In a recent Nature Communications study, Adamala and her team created a new biocomputing platform called TRUMPET (Transcriptional RNA Universal Multi-Purpose GatE PlaTform) which acts like a DNA-powered computer chip. “These biological systems can heal if you design them correctly,” adds Adamala. “So you can imagine a computer that will eventually heal itself.”
The basics of biocomputing
Biocomputing and regular computing have many similarities. Like regular computing, biocomputing works by running information through a series of gates, usually logic gates. A logic gate works as a fork in the road for an electronic circuit. The input will travel one way or another, giving two different outputs. An example logic gate is the AND gate, which has two inputs (A and B) and two different results. If both A and B are 1, the AND gate output will be 1. If only A is 1 and B is 0, the output will be 0 and vice versa. If both A and B are 0, the result will be 0. While a computer gives these inputs in binary code or "bits," such as a 0 or 1, biocomputing uses DNA strands as inputs, whether double or single-stranded, and often uses fluorescent RNA as an output. In this case, the DNA enters the logic gate as a single or double strand.
If the DNA is double-stranded, the system “digests” the DNA or destroys it, which results in non-fluorescence or “0” output. Conversely, if the DNA is single-stranded, it won’t be digested and instead will be copied by several enzymes in the biocomputing system, resulting in fluorescent RNA or a “1” output. And the output for this type of binary system can be expanded beyond fluorescence or not. For example, a “1” output might be the production of the enzyme insulin, while a “0” may be that no insulin is produced. “This kind of synergy between biology and computation is the essence of biocomputing,” says Stephanie Forrest, a professor and the director of the Biodesign Center for Biocomputing, Security and Society at Arizona State University.
Biocomputing circles are made of DNA, RNA, proteins and even bacteria.
Evgeny Katz
The TRUMPET’s promise
Depending on whether the biocomputing system is placed directly inside a cell within the human body, or run in a test-tube, different environmental factors play a role. When an output is produced inside a cell, the cell's natural processes can amplify this output (for example, a specific protein or DNA strand), creating a solid signal. However, these cells can also be very leaky. “You want the cells to do the thing you ask them to do before they finish whatever their businesses, which is to grow, replicate, metabolize,” Adamala explains. “However, often the gate may be triggered without the right inputs, creating a false positive signal. So that's why natural logic gates are often leaky." While biocomputing outside a cell in a test tube can allow for tighter control over the logic gates, the outputs or signals cannot be amplified by a cell and are less potent.
TRUMPET, which is smaller than a cell, taps into both cellular and non-cellular biocomputing benefits. “At its core, it is a nonliving logic gate system,” Adamala states, “It's a DNA-based logic gate system. But because we use enzymes, and the readout is enzymatic [where an enzyme replicates the fluorescent RNA], we end up with signal amplification." This readout means that the output from the TRUMPET system, a fluorescent RNA strand, can be replicated by nearby enzymes in the platform, making the light signal stronger. "So it combines the best of both worlds,” Adamala adds.
These organic-based systems could detect cancer cells or low insulin levels inside a patient’s body.
The TRUMPET biocomputing process is relatively straightforward. “If the DNA [input] shows up as single-stranded, it will not be digested [by the logic gate], and you get this nice fluorescent output as the RNA is made from the single-stranded DNA, and that's a 1,” Adamala explains. "And if the DNA input is double-stranded, it gets digested by the enzymes in the logic gate, and there is no RNA created from the DNA, so there is no fluorescence, and the output is 0." On the story's leading image above, if the tube is "lit" with a purple color, that is a binary 1 signal for computing. If it's "off" it is a 0.
While still in research, TRUMPET and other biocomputing systems promise significant benefits to personalized healthcare and medicine. These organic-based systems could detect cancer cells or low insulin levels inside a patient’s body. The study’s lead author and graduate student Judee Sharon is already beginning to research TRUMPET's ability for earlier cancer diagnoses. Because the inputs for TRUMPET are single or double-stranded DNA, any mutated or cancerous DNA could theoretically be detected from the platform through the biocomputing process. Theoretically, devices like TRUMPET could be used to detect cancer and other diseases earlier.
Adamala sees TRUMPET not only as a detection system but also as a potential cancer drug delivery system. “Ideally, you would like the drug only to turn on when it senses the presence of a cancer cell. And that's how we use the logic gates, which work in response to inputs like cancerous DNA. Then the output can be the production of a small molecule or the release of a small molecule that can then go and kill what needs killing, in this case, a cancer cell. So we would like to develop applications that use this technology to control the logic gate response of a drug’s delivery to a cell.”
Although platforms like TRUMPET are making progress, a lot more work must be done before they can be used commercially. “The process of translating mechanisms and architecture from biology to computing and vice versa is still an art rather than a science,” says Forrest. “It requires deep computer science and biology knowledge,” she adds. “Some people have compared interdisciplinary science to fusion restaurants—not all combinations are successful, but when they are, the results are remarkable.”
In today’s podcast episode, Leaps.org Deputy Editor Lina Zeldovich speaks about the health and ecological benefits of farming crickets for human consumption with Bicky Nguyen, who joins Lina from Vietnam. Bicky and her business partner Nam Dang operate an insect farm named CricketOne. Motivated by the idea of sustainable and healthy protein production, they started their unconventional endeavor a few years ago, despite numerous naysayers who didn’t believe that humans would ever consider munching on bugs.
Yet, making creepy crawlers part of our diet offers many health and planetary advantages. Food production needs to match the rise in global population, estimated to reach 10 billion by 2050. One challenge is that some of our current practices are inefficient, polluting and wasteful. According to nonprofit EarthSave.org, it takes 2,500 gallons of water, 12 pounds of grain, 35 pounds of topsoil and the energy equivalent of one gallon of gasoline to produce one pound of feedlot beef, although exact statistics vary between sources.
Meanwhile, insects are easy to grow, high on protein and low on fat. When roasted with salt, they make crunchy snacks. When chopped up, they transform into delicious pâtes, says Bicky, who invents her own cricket recipes and serves them at industry and public events. Maybe that’s why some research predicts that edible insects market may grow to almost $10 billion by 2030. Tune in for a delectable chat on this alternative and sustainable protein.
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Further reading:
More info on Bicky Nguyen
https://yseali.fulbright.edu.vn/en/faculty/bicky-n...
The environmental footprint of beef production
https://www.earthsave.org/environment.htm
https://www.watercalculator.org/news/articles/beef-king-big-water-footprints/
https://www.frontiersin.org/articles/10.3389/fsufs.2019.00005/full
https://ourworldindata.org/carbon-footprint-food-methane
Insect farming as a source of sustainable protein
https://www.insectgourmet.com/insect-farming-growing-bugs-for-protein/
https://www.sciencedirect.com/topics/agricultural-and-biological-sciences/insect-farming
Cricket flour is taking the world by storm
https://www.cricketflours.com/
https://talk-commerce.com/blog/what-brands-use-cricket-flour-and-why/
Lina Zeldovich has written about science, medicine and technology for Popular Science, Smithsonian, National Geographic, Scientific American, Reader’s Digest, the New York Times and other major national and international publications. A Columbia J-School alumna, she has won several awards for her stories, including the ASJA Crisis Coverage Award for Covid reporting, and has been a contributing editor at Nautilus Magazine. In 2021, Zeldovich released her first book, The Other Dark Matter, published by the University of Chicago Press, about the science and business of turning waste into wealth and health. You can find her on http://linazeldovich.com/ and @linazeldovich.