Will Blockchain Technology Usher in a Healthcare Data Revolution?
The hacker collective known as the Dark Overlord first surfaced in June 2016, when it advertised more than 600,000 patient files from three U.S. healthcare organizations for sale on the dark web. The group, which also attempted to extort ransom from its victims, soon offered another 9 million records pilfered from health insurance companies and provider networks across the country.
Since 2009, federal regulators have counted nearly 5,000 major data breaches in the United States alone, affecting some 260 million individuals.
Last October, apparently seeking publicity as well as cash, the hackers stole a trove of potentially scandalous data from a celebrity plastic surgery clinic in London—including photos of in-progress genitalia- and breast-enhancement surgeries. "We have TBs [terabytes] of this shit. Databases, names, everything," a gang representative told a reporter. "There are some royal families in here."
Bandits like these are prowling healthcare's digital highways in growing numbers. Since 2009, federal regulators have counted nearly 5,000 major data breaches in the United States alone, affecting some 260 million individuals. Although hacker incidents represent less than 20 percent of the total breaches, they account for almost 80 percent of the affected patients. Such attacks expose patients to potential blackmail or identity theft, enable criminals to commit medical fraud or file false tax returns, and may even allow hostile state actors to sabotage electric grids or other infrastructure by e-mailing employees malware disguised as medical notices. According to the consulting agency Accenture, data theft will cost the healthcare industry $305 billion between 2015 and 2019, with annual totals doubling from $40 billion to $80 billion.
Blockchain could put patients in control of their own data, empowering them to access, share, and even sell their medical information as they see fit.
One possible solution to this crisis involves radically retooling the way healthcare data is stored and shared—by using blockchain, the still-emerging information technology that underlies cryptocurrencies such as Bitcoin. And blockchain-enabled IT systems, boosters say, could do much more than prevent the theft of medical data. Such networks could revolutionize healthcare delivery on many levels, creating efficiencies that would reduce medical errors, improve coordination between providers, drive down costs, and give researchers unprecedented insights into patterns of disease. Perhaps most transformative, blockchain could put patients in control of their own data, empowering them to access, share, and even sell their medical information as they see fit. Widespread adoption could result in "a new kind of healthcare economy, in which data and services are quantifiable and exchangeable, with strong guarantees around both the security and privacy of sensitive information," wrote W. Brian Smith, chief scientist of healthcare-blockchain startup PokitDok, in a recent white paper.
Around the world, entrepreneurs, corporations, and government agencies are hopping aboard the blockchain train. A survey by the IBM Institute for Business Value, released in late 2016, found that 16 percent of healthcare executives in 16 countries planned to begin implementing some form of the technology in the coming year; 90 percent planned to launch a pilot program in the next two years. In 2017, Estonia became the first country to switch its medical-records system to a blockchain-based framework. Great Britain and Dubai are exploring a similar move. Yet in countries with more fragmented health systems, most notably the U.S., the challenges remain formidable. Some of the most advanced healthcare applications envisioned for blockchain, moreover, raise technological and ethical questions whose answers may not arrive anytime soon.
By creating a detailed, comprehensive, and immutable timeline of medical transactions, blockchain-based recordkeeping could help providers gauge a patient's long-term health patterns in a way that's never before been possible.
What Exactly Is Blockchain, Anyway?
To understand the buzz around blockchain, it's necessary to grasp (at least loosely) how the technology works. Ordinary digital recordkeeping systems rely on a central administrator that acts as gatekeeper to a treasury of data; if you can sneak past the guard, you can often gain access to the entire hoard, and your intrusion may go undetected indefinitely. Blockchain, by contrast, employs a network of synchronized, replicated databases. Information is scattered among these nodes, rather than on a single server, and is exchanged through encrypted, peer-to-peer pathways. Each transaction is visible to every computer on the network, and must be approved by a majority in order to be successfully completed. Each batch of transactions, or "block," is date- and time-stamped, marked with the user's identity, and given a cryptographic code, which is posted to every node. These blocks form a "chain," preserved in an electronic ledger, that can be read by all users but can't be edited. Any unauthorized access, or attempt at tampering, can be quickly neutralized by these overlapping safeguards. Even if a hacker managed to break into the system, penetrating deeply would be extraordinarily difficult.
Because blockchain technology shares transaction records throughout a network, it could eliminate communication bottlenecks between different components of the healthcare system (primary care physicians, specialists, nurses, and so on). And because blockchain-based systems are designed to incorporate programs known as "smart contracts," which automate functions previously requiring human intervention, they could reduce dangerous slipups as well as tedious and costly paperwork. For example, when a patient gets a checkup, sees a specialist, and fills a prescription, all these actions could be automatically recorded on his or her electronic health record (EHR), checked for errors, submitted for billing, and entered on insurance claims—which could be adjudicated and reimbursed automatically as well. "Blockchain has the potential to remove a lot of intermediaries from existing workflows, whether digital or nondigital," says Kamaljit Behera, an industry analyst for the consulting firm Frost & Sullivan.
The possible upsides don't end there. By creating a detailed, comprehensive, and immutable timeline of medical transactions, blockchain-based recordkeeping could help providers gauge a patient's long-term health patterns in a way that's never before been possible. In addition to data entered by their caregivers, individuals could use app-based technologies or wearables to transmit other information to their records, such as diet, exercise, and sleep patterns, adding new depth to their medical portraits.
Many experts expect healthcare blockchain to take root more slowly in the U.S. than in nations with government-run national health services.
Smart contracts could also allow patients to specify who has access to their data. "If you get an MRI and want your orthopedist to see it, you can add him to your network instead of carrying a CD into his office," explains Andrew Lippman, associate director of the MIT Media Lab, who helped create a prototype healthcare blockchain system called MedRec that's currently being tested at Beth Israel Deaconess Hospital in Boston. "Or you might make a smart contract to allow your son or daughter to access your healthcare records if something happens to you." Another option: permitting researchers to analyze your data for scientific purposes, whether anonymously or with your name attached.
The Recent History, and Looking Ahead
Over the past two years, a crowd of startups has begun vying for a piece of the emerging healthcare blockchain market. Some, like PokitDok and Atlanta-based Patientory, plan to mint proprietary cryptocurrencies, which investors can buy in lieu of stock, medical providers may earn as a reward for achieving better outcomes, and patients might score for meeting wellness goals or participating in clinical trials. (Patientory's initial coin offering, or ICO, raised more than $7 million in three days.) Several fledgling healthcare-blockchain companies have found powerful corporate partners: Intel for Silicon Valley's PokitDok, Kaiser Permanente for Patientory, Philips for Los Angeles-based Gem Health. At least one established provider network, Change Healthcare, is developing blockchain-based systems of its own. Two months ago, Change launched what it calls the first "enterprise-scale" blockchain network in U.S. healthcare—a system to track insurance claim submissions and remittances.
No one, however, has set a roll-out date for a full-blown, blockchain-based EHR system in this country. "We have yet to see anything move from the pilot phase to some kind of production status," says Debbie Bucci, an IT architect in the federal government's Office of the National Coordinator for Health Information Technology. Indeed, many experts expect healthcare blockchain to take root more slowly here than in nations with government-run national health services. In America, a typical patient may have dealings with a family doctor who keeps everything on paper, an assortment of hospitals that use different EHR systems, and an insurer whose system for processing claims is separate from that of the healthcare providers. To help bridge these gaps, a consortium called the Hyperledger Healthcare Working Group (which includes many of the leading players in the field) is developing standard protocols for blockchain interoperability and other functions. Adding to the complexity is the federal Health Insurance and Portability Act (HIPAA), which governs who can access patient data and under what circumstances. "Healthcare blockchain is in a very nascent stage," says Behera. "Coming up with regulations and other guidelines, and achieving large-scale implementation, will take some time."
The ethical implications of buying and selling personal genomic data in an electronic marketplace are doubtless open to debate.
How long? Behera, like other analysts, estimates that relatively simple applications, such as revenue-cycle management systems, could become commonplace in the next five years. More ambitious efforts might reach fruition in a decade or so. But once the infrastructure for healthcare blockchain is fully established, its uses could go far beyond keeping better EHRs.
A handful of scientists and entrepreneurs are already working to develop one visionary application: managing genomic data. Last month, Harvard University geneticist George Church—one of the most influential figures in his discipline—launched a business called Nebula Genomics. It aims to set up an exchange in which individuals can use "Neptune tokens" to purchase DNA sequencing, which will be stored in the company's blockchain-based system; research groups will be able to pay clients for their data using the same cryptocurrency. Luna DNA, founded by a team of biotech veterans in San Diego, plans a similar service, as does a Moscow-based startup called the Zenome Project.
Hossein Rahnama, CEO of the mobile-tech company Flybits and director of research at the Ryerson Centre for Cloud and Context-Aware Computing in Toronto, envisions a more personalized way of sharing genomic data via blockchain. His firm is working with a U.S. insurance company to develop a service that would allow clients in their 20s and 30s to connect with people in their 70s or 80s with similar genomes. The young clients would learn how the elders' lifestyle choices had influenced their health, so that they could modify their own habits accordingly. "It's intergenerational wisdom-sharing," explains Rahnama, who is 38. "I would actually pay to be a part of that network."
The ethical implications of buying and selling personal genomic data in an electronic marketplace are doubtless open to debate. Such commerce could greatly expand the pool of subjects for research in many areas of medicine, enabling the kinds of breakthroughs that only Big Data can provide. Yet it could also lead millions to surrender the most private information of all—the secrets of their cells—to buyers with less benign intentions. The Dark Overlord, one might argue, could not hope for a more satisfying victory.
These scenarios, however, are pure conjecture. After the first web page was posted, in 1991, Lippman observes, "a whole universe developed that you couldn't have imagined on Day 1." The same, he adds, is likely true for healthcare blockchain. "Our vision is to make medical records useful for you and for society, and to give you more control over your own identity. Time will tell."
Scientists aim to preserve donkeys, one frozen embryo at a time
Every day for a week in 2022, Andres Gambini, a veterinarian and senior lecturer in animal science at the University of Queensland in Australia, walked into his lab—and headed straight to the video camera. Trained on an array of about 50 donkey embryos, all created by Gambini’s manual in vitro fertilization, or IVF, the camera kept an eye on their developmental progress. To eventually create a viable embryo that could be implanted into a female donkey, the embryos’ cells had to keep dividing, first in two, then in four and so on.
But the embryos weren’t cooperating. Some would start splitting up only to stop a day or two later, and others wouldn’t start at all. Every day he came in, Gambini saw fewer and fewer dividing embryos, so he was losing faith in the effort. “You see many failed attempts and get disappointed,” he says.
Gambini and his team, a group of Argentinian and Spanish researchers, were working to create these embryos because many donkey populations around the world are declining. It may sound counterintuitive that domesticated animals may need preservation, but out of 28 European donkey breeds, 20 are endangered and seven are in critical status. It is partly because of the inbreeding that happened over the course of many years and partly because in today’s Western world donkeys aren’t really used anymore.
“That's the reason why some breeds begin to disappear because humans were not really interested in having that specific breed anymore,” Gambini says. Nonetheless, in Africa, India and Latin America millions of rural families still rely on these hardy creatures for agriculture and transportation. And the only two wild donkey species—Equus africanus in Africa and Equus hemionus in Asia—are also dwindling, due to losing their habitats to human activities, diseases and slow reproduction rates. Gambini’s team wanted to create a way to preserve the animals for the future. “Donkeys are more endangered than people realize,” he says.
There’s much more to donkeys' trouble though. For the past 20 or so years, they have been facing a huge existential threat due to their hide gelatin, a compound derived from their skins by soaking and stewing. In Chinese traditional medicine, the compound, called ejiao, is believed to have a medicinal value, so it’s used in skin creams, added to food and taken in capsules. Centuries ago, ejiao was a very expensive luxury product available only for the emperor and his household. That changed in the 1990s when the Chinese economy boomed, and many people were suddenly able to afford it. “It went from a very elite product to a very popular product,” says Janneke Merkx, a campaign manager at The Donkey Sanctuary, a United Kingdom-based nonprofit organization that keeps tabs on the animals’ welfare worldwide. “It is a status symbol for gift giving.”
Having evolved in the harsh and arid mountainous terrains where food and water were scarce, donkeys are extremely adaptable and hardy. But the Donkey Sanctuary documented cases in which an entire village had their animals disappear overnight, finding them killed and skinned outside their settlement.
The Chinese donkey population was quickly decimated. Unlike many other farm animals, donkeys are finicky breeders. When stressed and unhappy, they don’t procreate, so growing them in large industrial settings isn’t possible. “Donkeys are notoriously slow breeders and really very difficult to farm,” says Merkx. “They are not the same as other livestock like sheep and pigs and cattle.” Within years the, the donkey numbers in China dropped precipitously. “China used to have the largest donkey population in the world in the 1990s. They had 11 million donkeys, and it's now down to less than 3 million, and they just can't keep up with the demand.”
To keep the ejiao conveyor going, some producers turned to the illegal wildlife trade. Poachers began to steal and slaughter donkeys from rural villages in Africa. The Donkey Sanctuary documented cases in which an entire village had their animals disappear overnight, finding them killed and skinned outside their settlement. Exactly how many creatures were lost to the skin trade to-date isn’t possible to calculate, says Faith Burden, the Donkey Sanctuary’s director of equine operations. Traditionally a poor people’s beast of burden, donkey counts are hard to keep track of. “When an animal doesn't produce meat, milk or eggs or whatever edible product, they're often less likely to be acknowledged in a government population census,” Burden says. “So reliable statistics are hard to come by.” The nonprofit estimates that about 4.8 million are slaughtered annually.
During their six to seven thousand years of domestication, donkeys rarely got the full appreciation for their services. They are often compared to horses, which doesn’t do them justice. They’re entirely different animals, Burden says. Built for speed, horses respond to predators and other dangers by running as fast as they can. Donkeys, which originate from the rocky, mountainous regions of Africa where running is dangerous, react to threats by freezing and assessing the situation for the best response. “Those so-called stubborn donkeys that won’t move as you want, they are actually thinking ‘what’s the best approach,’” Burden says. They may even choose to fight the predators rather than flee, she adds. “In some parts of the world, people use them as guard animals against things like coyotes and wolves.”
Scientists believe that domestic donkeys take their origin from Equus africanus or African wild ass, originally roaming where Kenya, Ethiopia and Eritrea are today. Having evolved in the harsh and arid mountainous terrains where food and water were scarce, they are extremely adaptable and hardy. Research finds that they can go without water for 72 hours and then drink their fill without any negative consequences. Their big jaws let them chew tough desert shrubs, which horses can’t exist on. Their large ears help dissipate heat. Their little upright hooves are a perfect fit for the uneven rocky or other dangerous grounds. Accustomed to the mountain desert climate with hot days and cold nights, they don’t mind temperature flux.
“The donkey is the most supremely adapted animal to deal with hostile conditions,” Burden says. “They can survive on much lower nutritional quality food than a cow, sheep or horse. That’s why communities living in some of the most inhospitable places will often have donkeys with them.” And that’s why losing a donkey to an illegal skin trade can devastate a family in places like Eritrea. Suddenly everything from water to firewood to produce must be carried by family members—and often women.
Workers unloading donkeys at the Shinyanga slaughterhouse in Tanzania. Fearing a future in which donkeys go extinct, scientists have found ways to cryopreserve a donkey embryo in liquid nitrogen.
TAHUCHA
One can imagine a time when worldwide donkey populations may dwindle to the point that they would need to be restored. That includes their genetic variability too. That’s where the frozen embryos may come in handy. We may be able to use them to increase the genetic variability of donkeys, which will be especially important if they get closer to extinction, Gambini says. His team had already created frozen embryos for horses and zebras, an idea similar to a seed bank. “We call this concept the Frozen Zoo.”
Creating donkey embryos proved much harder than those of zebras and horses. To improve chances of fertilization, Gambini used the intracytoplasmic sperm injection or ICSI, in which he employed a tiny needle called a micropipette to inject a donkey sperm into an egg. That was a step above the traditional IVF method, in which the egg and a sperm are left floating in a test tube together. The injection took, but during the incubating week, one after the other, the embryos stopped dividing. Finally, on day seven, Gambini finally spotted the exact sight he was hoping to see. One of the embryos developed into a burgeoning ball of cells.
“That stage is called a blastocyst,” Gambini says. The clump of cells had a lot of fluids mixed within them, which indicated that they were finally developing into a viable embryo. “When we see a blastocyst, we know we can transfer that into a female.” He was so excited he immediately called all his collaborators to tell them the good news, which they later published in the journal of Theriogenology.
The one and only embryo to reach that stage, the blastocyst was cryopreserved in liquid nitrogen. The team is waiting for the next breeding season to see if a female donkey may carry it to term and give birth to a healthy foal. Gambini’s team is hoping to polish the process and create more embryos. “It’s our weapon in the conservation ass-enal,” he says.
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.
Too much of this ingredient leads to autoimmune diseases, new research shows. Here's how to cut back.
For more than a century, doctors have warned that too much salt in your diet can lead to high blood pressure, heart disease and stroke - and many of the reasons for these effects are well known. But recently scientists have been looking deeper, into the cellular level, and they are finding additional reasons to minimize sodium intake; it is bad for immune cells, creating patterns of gene expression and activity seen in a variety of autoimmune diseases such as multiple sclerosis, lupus, rheumatoid arthritis, and type-1 diabetes.
Salt is a major part of the ocean from which life evolved on this planet. We carry that legacy in our blood, which tastes salty. It is an important element for conducting electrical signals along nerves and balancing water and metabolites transported throughout our bodies. We need to consume about 500 milligrams of salt each day to maintain these functions, more with exercise and heavy sweating as that is a major way the body loses salt. The problem is that most Americans eating a modern western diet consume about 3400 milligrams, 1.5 teaspoons per day.
Evidence has been accumulating over the last few years that elevated levels of sodium can be harmful to at least some types of immune cells. The first signal came in monocytes, which are immune cells that travel to various tissues in the body, where some of them turn into macrophages, a subset of white blood cells that can directly kill microorganisms and make chemical signals that bring other types of immune cells into play.
Two years ago, Dominik N. Müller from the Max-Delbrueck-Center in Berlin, Germany and Markus Kleinewietfeld, an immunologist at Hasselt University in Belgium, ran a study where they fed people pizza and then measured their immune cell function. “We saw that in any monocytes, metabolic function was down, even after a single salty meal,” Kleinewietfeld says. It seemed to be the cellular equivalent of the sluggish feeling we get after eating too much. The cells were able to recover but more research is needed to answer questions about what dose of sodium causes impairment, how long the damage lasts, and whether there is a cumulative effect of salt toxicity.
Kleinewietfeld and his colleagues have hypothesized that too much salt could be a significant factor in the increased number of autoimmune diseases and allergies over the last few generations.
The latest series of experiments focused on a type of T cell called T regulatory cells, or Tregs. Most T cells release inflammatory mediators to fight pathogens and, once that job is done, Tregs come along to calm down their hyperactive brethren. Failure to do so can result in continued inflammation and possibly autoimmune diseases.
In the lab, Kleinewietfeld and his large team of international collaborators saw that high levels of sodium had a huge effect on Tregs, upregulating 1250 genes and downregulating an additional 1380 genes so that they looked similar to patterns of gene expression seen in autoimmune diseases.
Digging deeper, they found that sodium affected mitochondria, the tiny organelles inside of cells that produce much of its energy. The sodium was interfering with how the mitochondria use oxygen, which resulted in increased levels of an unstable form of oxygen that can damage cell function. The researchers injected those damaged Tregs into mice and found that they impaired the animals' immune function, allowing the inflammation to continue rather than shutting it down.
That finding dovetailed nicely with a 2019 paper in Nature from Navdeep Chandel's lab at Northwestern University, which showed in mice that inhibiting the mitochondrial use of oxygen reduced the ability of Tregs to regulate other T cells. “Mitochondria were controlling directly the immunosuppressive program, they were this master regulator tuning the right amount of genes to give you proper immunosuppression,” Chandel said. “And if you lose that function, then you get autoimmunity.”
Kleinewietfeld's team studied the Treg cells of humans and found that sodium can similarly decrease mitochondrial use of oxygen and immunosuppressive activity. “I would have never predicted that myself,” Chandel says, but now researchers can look at the mitochondria of patients with autoimmune disease and see if their gene expression also changes under high salt conditions. He sees the link between the patterns of gene expression in Tregs generated by high salt exposure and those patterns seen in autoimmune diseases, but he is cautious about claiming a causal effect.
Kleinewietfeld and his colleagues have hypothesized that too much salt could be a significant factor in the increased number of autoimmune diseases and allergies over the last few generations. He says a high salt diet could also have an indirect effect on immune function through the way it affects the gut microbiome and the molecules made by microbes when they break down food. But the research results are too preliminary to say that for sure, much less parse out the role of salt compared with other possible factors. “It is still an exciting journey to try to understand this field,” he says.
Additionally, it is difficult to say precisely how this research in animals and human cell cultures will translate into a whole human body. Individual differences in genetics can affect how the body absorbs, transports, and gets rid of sodium, such that some people are more sensitive to salt than are others.
So how should people apply these research findings to daily life?
Salt is obvious when we sprinkle it on at the table or eat tasty things like potato chips, but we may be unaware of sodium hidden in packaged foods. That's because salt is an easy and cheap way to boost the flavor of foods. And if we do read the labeled salt content on a package, we focus on the number for a single serving, but then eat more than that.
Last September, the U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) began a process to update labels on the content of food, including what is meant by the word “healthy” and how food manufacturers can use the term. Many in the food industry are resisting those proposed changes.
Chandel cautions against trying to counter the effects of salt by reaching for foods or supplements full of antioxidants, which, in theory, could reduce the harmful effects on mitochondria caused by a heavy hand with the salt shaker.
Until labels are updated, it would be prudent to try to reduce sodium intake by cutting down on packaged foods while making your own food at home, where you know just how much salt has been added. The Mayo Clinic offers guidance on how to become more aware of the sodium in your diet and eat less of it.
Chandel thinks many people will struggle with minimizing salt in their diets. It’s similar to the challenge of eating less sugar, in that the body craves both, and it is difficult to fight that. He cautions against trying to counter the effects of salt by reaching for foods or supplements full of antioxidants, which, in theory, could reduce the harmful effects on mitochondria caused by a heavy hand with the salt shaker. “Dietary antioxidants have failed in just about every clinical trial, yet the public continues to take them,” Chandel says. But he is optimistic that research will lead us to a better understanding of how Tregs function, and uncover new targets for treating autoimmune diseases.