Health

Privacy, Public Facebook Posts, and the Medicalization of Everything

Peter J. Teravskis, MD/JD Candidate, MJLST Staffer

Medicalization is “a process by which human problems come to be defined and treated as medical problems.” Medicalization is not a formalized process, but is instead “a social meaning embedded within other social meanings.” As the medical domain has expanded in recent years scholars have begun to point to problems with “over-medicalization” or “corrupted medicalization.” Specifically, medicalization is used to describe “the expansion of medicine in people’s lives.” For example, scholars have problematized the medicalization of obesity, shynesshousing, poverty, normal aging, and even dying, amongst many others. The process of medicalization has become so pervasive in recent years that various sociologists have begun to discuss it as the medicalization “of everyday life,” “of society,”  “of culture,” of the human condition, and “the medicalization of everything”—i.e. turning all human difference into pathology. Similarly, developments in “technoscientific biomedicine” have led scholars to blur the line of what is exclusively “medical” into a broader process of “biomedicalization.”

Medicalization does not carry a valence of “good” or “bad” per se: medicalization and demedicalization can both restrict and expand personal liberties. However, when everyday living is medicalized there are many attendant problems. First, medicalization places problems outside a person’s control: rather than the result of choice, personality, or character, a medicalized problem is considered biologically preordained or “curable.” Medicalized human differences are no longer considered normal; therefore, “treatment” becomes a “foregone conclusion.” Because of this, companies are incentivized to create pharmacological and biotechnological solutions to “cure” the medicalized problem. From a legal perspective, Professor Adele E. Clarke and colleagues note that through medicalization, “social problems deemed morally problematic . . . [are] moved from the professional jurisdiction of the law to that of medicine.” This process is referred to, generally, as the “medicalization of deviance.” Further, medicalization can de-normalize aspects of the human condition and classify people as “diseased.”

Medicalization is important to the sociological study of social control. Social control is defined as the “mechanisms, in the form of patterns of pressure, through which society maintains social order and cohesion.” Thus, once medicalized, an illness is subject to control by medicinal interventions (drugs, surgery, therapy, etc.) and a sick people are expected to take on the “sick role” whereby they become the subjects of physicians’ professional control. A recent example of medical social control is the social pressure to engage in hygienic habits, precautionary measures, and “social distancing” in response to the novel coronavirus, COVID-19. The COVID-19 pandemic is an expressly medical problem; however, when normal life, rather than a viral outbreak, is medicalized, medical social control becomes problematic. For example, the sociologist Peter Conrad argues that medical social control can take the form of “medical surveillance.” He states that “this form of medical social control suggests that certain conditions or behaviors become perceived through a ‘medical gaze’ and that physicians may legitimately lay claim to all activities concerning the condition” (quoting Michel Foucault’s seminal book The Birth of the Clinic).

The effects of medical social control are amplified due to the communal nature of medicine and healthcare, leading to “medical­legal hybrid[]” social control and, I argue, medical-corporate social control. For example, employers and insurers have interests in encouraging healthful behavior when it reduces members’ health care costs. Similarly, employers are interested in maximizing healthy working days, decreasing worker turnover, and maximizing healthy years, thus expanding the workforce. The State has similar interests, as well as interests in reducing end-of-life and old age medical costs. At first glance, this would seem to militate against overmedicalization. However, modern epidemiological methods have revealed the long term consequences of untreated medical problems. Thus, medicalization may result in the diversion of health care dollars towards less expensive preventative interventions and away from more expensive therapy that would help later in life.

An illustrative example is the medicalization of obesity. Historically, obesity was not considered a disease but was a socially desirable condition: demonstrating wealth; the ability to afford expensive, energy-dense foods; and a life of leisure rather than manual labor. Changing social norms, increased life expectancy, highly sensitive biomedical technologies for identifying subtle metabolic changes in blood chemistry, and population-level associations between obesity and later-life health complications have contributed to the medicalization of this conditions. Obesity, unlike many other conditions, it not attributable to a single biological process, rather, it is hypothesized to result from the contribution of multiple genetic and environmental factors. As such, there is no “silver bullet” treatment for obesity. Instead, “treatment” for obesity requires profound changes reaching deep into how a patient lives her life. Many of these interventions have profound psychosocial implications. Medicalized obesity has led, in part, to the stigmatization of people with obesity. Further, medical recommendations for the treatment of obesity, including gym membership, and expensive “health” foods, are costly for the individual.

Because medicalized problems are considered social problems affecting whole communities, governments and employers have stepped in to treat the problem. Politically, the so-called “obesity epidemic” has led to myriad policy changes and proposals. Restrictions designed to combat the obesity epidemic have included taxes, bans, and advertising restrictions on energy-dense food products. On the other hand, states and the federal government have implemented proactive measures to address obesity, for example public funds have been allocated to encourage access to and awareness of “healthy foods,” and healthy habits. Further, Social Security Disability, Medicare and Medicaid, and the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program have been modified to cope with economic and health effects of obesity.

Other tools of control are available to employers and insurance providers. Most punitively, corporate insurance plans can increase rates for obese employees.  As Abby Ellin, writing for Observer, explained “[p]enalizing employees for pounds is perfectly legal [under the Affordable Care Act]” (citing a policy brief published in the HealthAffairs journal). Alternatively, employers and insurers have paid for or provided incentives for gym memberships and use, some going so far as to provide exercise facilities in the workplace. Similarly, some employers have sought to modify employee food choices by providing or restricting food options available in the office. The development of wearable computer technologies has presented another option for enforcing obesity-focused behavioral control. Employer-provided FitBits are “an increasingly valuable source of workforce health intelligence for employers and insurance companies.” In fact, Apple advertises Apple Watch to corporate wellness divisions and various media outlets have noted how Apple Watch and iPhone applications can be used by employers for health surveillance.

Indeed, medicalization as a pretense for technological surveillance and social control is not exclusively used in the context of obesity prevention. For instance, the medicalization of old age has coincided with the technological surveillance of older people. Most troubling, medicalization in concert with other social forces have spawned an emerging field of technological surveillance of mental illness. Multiple studies, and current NIH-funded research, are aimed at developing algorithms for the diagnosis of mental illness based on data mined from publicly accessible social media and internet forum posts. This process is called “social media analysis.” These technologies are actively medicalizing the content of digital communications. They subject peoples’ social media postings to an algorithmic imitation of the medical gaze, whereby, “physicians may legitimately lay claim to” those social media interactions.  If social media analysis performs as hypothesized, certain combinations of words and phrases will constitute evidence of disease. Similar technology has already been coopted as a mechanism of social control to detect potential perpetrators of mass shootings. Policy makers have already seized upon the promise of medical social media analysis as a means to enforce “red flag” laws. Red flag laws “authorize courts to issue a special type of protection order, allowing the police to temporarily confiscate firearms from people who are deemed by a judge to be a danger to themselves or to others.” Similarly, it is conceivable that this type of evidence will be used in civil commitment proceedings. If implemented, such programs would constitute a link by which medical surveillance, under the banner of medicalization, could be used as grounds to deprive individuals of civil liberty, demonstrating an explicit medical-legal hybrid social control mechanism.

What protections does the law offer? The Fourth Amendment protects people from unreasonable searches. To determine whether a “search” has occurred courts ask whether the individual has a “reasonable expectation of privacy” in the contents of the search. Therefore, whether a person had a reasonable expectation of privacy in publicly available social media data is critical to determining whether that data can be used in civil commitment proceedings or for red flag law protective orders.

Public social media data is, obviously, public, so courts have generally held that individuals have no reasonable expectation of privacy in its contents. By contrast, the Supreme Court has ruled that individuals have a reasonable expectation of privacy in the data contained on their cell phones and personal computers, as well as their personal location data (cell-site location information) legally collected by third party cell service providers. Therefore, it is an open question how far a person’s reasonable expectation of privacy extends in the case of digital information. Specifically, when public social media data is used for medical surveillance and making psychological diagnoses the legal calculation may change. One interpretation of the “reasonable expectation of privacy” test argues that it is an objective test—asking whether a reasonable person would actually have a privacy interest. Indeed, some scholars have suggested using polling data to define the perimeter of Fourth Amendment protections. In that vein, an analysis of the American Psychiatric Association’s “Goldwater Rule” is illustrative.

The Goldwater Rule emerged after the media outlet “Fact” published psychiatrists’ medical impressions of 1964 presidential candidate Barry Goldwater. Goldwater filed a libel suit against Fact, and the jury awarded him $1.00 in compensatory damages and $75,000 in punitive damages resulting from the publication of the psychiatric evaluations. None of the quoted psychiatrists had met or examined Goldwater in person. Subsequently, concerned primarily about the inaccuracies of “diagnoses at a distance,” the APA adopted the Goldwater Rule, prohibiting psychiatrists from engaging in such practices. It is still in effect today.

The Goldwater Rule does not speak to privacy per se, but it does speak to the importance of personal, medical relationships between psychiatrists and patients when arriving at a diagnosis. Courts generally treat those types of relationships as private and protect them from needless public exposure. Further, using social media surveillance to diagnose mental illness is precisely the type of diagnosis-at-a-distance that concerns the APA. However, big-data techniques promise to obviate the diagnostic inaccuracies the 1960s APA was concerned with.

The jury verdict in favor of Goldwater is more instructive. While the jury found only nominal compensatory damages, it nevertheless chose to punish Fact magazine. This suggests that the jury took great umbrage with the publication of psychiatric diagnoses, even though they were obtained from publicly available data. Could this be because psychiatric diagnoses are private? The Second Circuit, upholding the jury verdict, noted that running roughshod over privacy interests is indicative of malice in cases of libel. Under an objective test, this seems to suggest that subjecting public information to the medical gaze, especially the psychiatrist’s gaze, unveils information that is private. In essence, applying big-data computer science techniques to public posts unveils or reveals private information contained in the publicly available words themselves. Even though the public social media posts are not subject to a reasonable expectation of privacy, a psychiatric diagnosis based on those words may be objectively private. In sum, the medicalization and medical surveillance of normal interactions on social media may create a Fourth Amendment privacy interest where none previously existed.


Undocumented Americans and a Pathway to Health Care Coverage

Jacob Hauschild, MJLST Staffer

In a June Democratic Primary debate, moderator Savannah Guthrie asked the field of candidates who would provide undocumented immigrants access to health care coverage. When all ten candidates raised their hands, the issue of health care access for undocumented immigrants was pushed to the forefront of the health care reform debate.

Despite this apparent unanimity, Democrats are far from aligned on the issue—never mind the policy’s poor popularity among voters. But lacking from the public discourse is due attention to how undocumented immigrants currently engage with our health care system.

Health care coverage is usually attained by U.S. citizens through one of three sources: (1) employer-sponsored insurance (ESI), (2) public health care programs (for example, Medicare and Medicaid), and (3) the individual market. Not all of these doors are open to undocumented immigrants, however. While some do have access to ESI, undocumented immigrants are generally prohibited from enrolling in federal public programs such as Medicare and Medicaid[1], and they are also not permitted to purchase health insurance on the federal or state-based marketplaces. While they can buy short- or long-term coverage directly from an insurer or an insurance broker, this coverage is often prohibitively expensive. Therefore, undocumented immigrants who cannot access health care insurance through their employer are often left with no coverage options; in fact, undocumented immigrants are uninsured at a rate of about 45%, compared to the only 8% of citizens who are uninsured.

The lack of access to health care coverage causes lower utilization of health care services, particularly preventative care. Some uninsured patients have access to income-based Community Health Centers—which are an “important source of primary care” for the uninsured—but these facilities often lack “stable revenue streams [and] sufficient staffing support.” Further, most hospital systems have “Charity Care” programs, but these programs tend to focus on paying for health care costs already incurred, rather than promoting use of preventative care to help patients stay healthy and reduce future cost.

Low access to preventative care services results in poorer health care outcomes and more complex and expensive health care needs later in life for the undocumented and other uninsured groups. That care is often delivered in the emergency room, where care for an emergency medical condition cannot be denied due to ability to pay. The financial burden of this uncompensated care weighs on the entire health care system and poses a detriment to the financial and physical wellness of our communities. Further, the financial loss from this uncompensated care is ultimately spread among all health care consumers—for example, through increased taxes; diversion of public funds from other programs; and, as is often claimed, increases to the costs of private health insurance—and is leading to the insolvency of health care systems in communities with fewer commercially insured patients.

Keeping in mind the impact of high uninsurance among undocumented immigrants, the manner in which health care access is “expanded” is of tremendous consequence. Proposals like Joe Biden’s only allow for undocumented immigrants to purchase coverage at full cost on the ACA marketplaces, without access to tax subsidies. Due to excessive cost and the fact that undocumented immigrants live in poverty at twice the rate of U.S. born citizens, it is unlikely for such a policy change to reduce uninsurance amongst this population. Meanwhile, plans like Bernie Sanders’ Medicare-for-All apparently cover all residents of the United States, regardless of immigration status. Such expansive health care reform is controversial in its own right, and should Medicare-for-All or a similar proposal advance through Congress in the future, it seems likely that access—and the extent of that access—to undocumented immigrants will be a dividing point among Democrats, as well as a nonstarter among many Republicans.

Yet the issue merits attention. Because the health care costs of undocumented immigrants are spread across the health care system regardless of whether or not they have access to coverage, it is good policy to curb those costs with preventative care, particularly when we consider the specific health care needs of the population, which in the modern era include significant trauma. A solution could take several forms, ranging from full access to the marketplace and its tax credits; to Medicaid benefits for income-eligible, undocumented children; to expanded funding for Community Health Centers and culturally competent outreach. Whatever that solution may be, it will affect not only the 10.7 million undocumented immigrants in the United States but also each and every health care consumer in the country.

[1] Sixteen states permit undocumented women who are pregnant and meet income guidelines to temporarily access Medicaid by utilizing federal CHIP funding to cover the unborn child, and income-eligible individuals who receive emergency services in an emergency room may be eligible for Medicaid to exclusively cover those costs.


Will the Vaping Industry Go Up in Smoke?

Stephen Wood, MJLST Staffer

It’s no secret that vaping has become increasingly popular. The number of users has increased from 7 million in 2011 to 41 million as of 2018. The total market is now worth an estimated $19.3 billion. Less clear is the future of industry regulation in light of the recent respiratory illnesses linked to vaping. On September 24, 2019, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention reported that vaping was attributed to 805 illnesses and 12 deaths. Pressure is building on the industry’s major players. In the last week, we have seen the cancellation of a merger between two of the largest tobacco companies, Altria and Philip Morris, and the release of the CEO of Juul, Kevin Burns.

However, the respiratory illnesses associated with vaping haven’t been linked to a specific product, and it is unclear what the long-term effects of vaping are. Because of this uncertainty, some states have implemented blanket restrictions on the sale of vaping products, President Trump has proposed new regulations, and the CDC has issued warnings regarding their safety. This is blindsiding the industry, which has been free from regulation by the FDA until recently.

Vaping devices, also known as electronic nicotine delivery systems (ENDS), became subject to the FDA’s regulatory scheme for all tobacco products on August 8, 2016. The Deeming Rule placed ENDS in the same category of products as cigarettes and other traditional tobacco products, which have been regulated under the Family Smoking Prevention and Tobacco Control Act since 2009. For this reason, the minimum age for purchasing ENDS is 18 years old, and the marketing, manufacturing, and distribution of ENDS is heavily regulated.

Juul, in particular, has come under fire for its marketing strategies. Among other claims, many lawsuits allege that the company specifically targeted minors through its use of social media and distribution of enticing flavors. These practices have also been the focal point of the recent surge of state regulations, which “are filling what many see as a regulatory void caused by federal inaction.” For example, in Michigan, Governor Gretchen Whitmer implemented an emergency ban, limiting the sale of vaping products to those which are tobacco flavored. New York did the same but exempted menthol from the ban. Massachusetts, notably, implemented a four-month emergency ban on all products. President Trump’s proposed ban, on the other hand, would be limited to flavored products.

If President Trump’s proposal is adopted, the industry would see an estimated 80% loss in sales. It will be interesting to see what the regulatory landscape looks like once the smoke clears.

 


Treating Depression with Ketamine? How The Investment Was Made

Hunter Moss, MJLST Staffer

Depression is a serious mental disorder that afflicts millions of Americans each year. One in three of these individuals struggles to find a treatment method that alleviates their condition, and are aptly said to suffer from treatment-resistant depression. In the most severe cases, treating depression can be a life or death decision—depression is the leading cause of over 41,000 suicides every year. For those dealing with depression, every day is a struggle to persevere and try to regain a sense of normalcy.

A new therapy for treatment-resistant depression was approved by the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) earlier this week, one that could help those that have been unable to find relief elsewhere. The unexpected source of the therapy is esketamine. If the name of this drug sounds familiar, it is because the name is based on, and molecularly similar to, the street drug named ketamine. While originally synthesized in the 1960’s as an anesthetic and first used widely in the Vietnam War, ketamine is now known as a party drug, providing the user with mild hallucinations and a sense of euphoria. Due to its dangerous side-effects and potential for abuse, ketamine was placed on the Schedule III of the United States Controlled Substance Act in August of 1999.

In the early 1990’s, researchers at Yale University first recognized the potential for ketamine to treat the symptoms of depression. Since then, scientists sought to confirm the viability of ketamine as a treatment option for individuals who did not experience relief from other treatment methods. A 2012 study out of Baylor College of Medicine proved just that: 85% of patients with severe depression reported the treatment to be effective. Unlike selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (SSRIs), which are most commonly prescribed to treat depression and can take weeks to build in a patient’s system before becoming effective, ketamine can provide nearly immediate relief with its full effect being felt in as little as two days.

With the science firmly in place, the next hurdle advocates of ketamine faced was of perception—in the eyes of the FDA and the public alike. Radical clinics began to emerge across the country to provide patients suffering from treatment-resistant depression with a safe, heavily-monitored environment to undergo care. Because ketamine had yet to be recognized as a potential aid for depression by the FDA, clinic physicians would often have to prescribe the drug under the guise of using it as an anesthetic. The “don’t ask, don’t tell” approach to a new treatment for a severe mental disorder created some inevitable quandaries for both doctors and patients, who would be unable to receive insurance coverage for a non-FDA approved treatment program.

While the medical community was well aware of the healing potential of ketamine, pharmaceutical companies were reluctant to make the investment. The average price-tag of a clinical trial for the FDA is $19m. There is certainly a market for the drug with countless Americans suffering from depression. The issue holding pharmaceutical companies back is related to patent law. In order to receive a patent, the proposed invention must be novel—and considering that ketamine has been around for nearly sixty years, that would be an impossible claim to make. Without patent protection, the multi-million dollar investment is bad economics for big pharma, even if the trials could provide relief for millions of Americans.

So why did Janssen Pharmaceuticals, the developer of a treatment method for depression based on ketamine, make the investment and receive FDA approval for its new drug Sprovato? The answer is because Sprovato is esketamine, a sufficiently different molecule from ketamine to be patentable. Certain molecules can be left-handed and have right-handed doppelgangers. While it is beyond the scope of this blog piece (and the ability of its author) to explain the difference between the two, esketamine is the left-handed version of ketamine’s right hand. The deviation between the molecules is a significant enough difference to pass the novelty requirement necessitated by the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office (USPTO). While there is some debate as to whether esketamine is as effective as its counterpart, esketamine passed the FDA’s clinical trials and, for the most part, has been received as a viable alternative to ketamine treatment. This development could help legitimize the countless ketamine clinics that have emerged across the United States over the last few years, yielding a promising new alternative for those struggling with severe depression. At the same time, the story of ketamine raises questions about the roles of several actors in the health care system, specifically pharmaceutical companies, the FDA and the USPTO, in delaying the introduction of life saving medication in order to adhere their respective financial and regulatory requirements.


“Juuling”: Gen Z’s Alleged Addiction May Mean Major Legal Problems for E-Cigarette Companies

By: Jack Kall, Minnesota Journal of Law, Science & Technology Vol. 20 Staffer

With every new week comes new headlines regarding Gen Z and their latest craze. After years of Millennials being cast as the generation responsible for everything wrong in the world, (Business Insider’s list of 19 things Millennials are killing, including everything from homeownership, banks, football, and oil to beer, napkins, cereal, and bars of soap; NPR describing how Millennials are killing Applebee’s; Forbes claiming Millennials might kill home-cooked meals and kitchens) it seems the media has found a new culprit, Gen Z! Gen Z’s supposed addiction to e-cigarettes, specifically to the JUUL brand, is common among the headlines.

Depending on how you define the generation, Gen Z includes anyone born in the years starting with 1995–2000 and ending between 2014–25. Pew Research has yet to name or define the end date of Gen Z, but it defines the “Post-Millennial generation” as those born 1997 and later.

No matter how you define Gen Z, it includes high school students, many of whom are under the legal tobacco consumption age of 18. High schoolers have been a major reason for both the rise of e-cig popularity and for giving JUUL Labs major market share in the e-cig industry. Browse through social media pages popular within the Gen Z community and you’ll inevitably see numerous posts about “Juuling.” However, Gen Z isn’t alone in its supposed obsession with e-cigs, as Leonardo DiCaprio (a member of Gen X) has long been known to appreciate vaping (e.g., 1, 2, 3).

JUUL Labs, which launched in 2015, has been repeatedly investigated for targeting minors through its advertising and sued for targeting teens with false claims of product safety. In 2017, Consumer Reports found that teens who vape are seven times more likely to turn to regular cigarettes. Additionally, the CDC has declared e-cig use among young people a public health concern.

As further research is published, JUUL should expect be the main target of continued legal action. One current case, a nationwide class action with ten named plaintiffs aged above 13, alleges in part that JUUL’s decision to market through social media was aimed at soliciting those under the legal smoking age. Another case, filed on behalf of a high school sophomore, alleges that JUUL is commonplace among his school, including use “on the school bus, in the bathrooms, outside of school and even in class.”

JUUL Labs will hope to continue to have success while under major legal scrutiny for its marketing practices. JUUL, importantly, hopes it can continue to show growth following its impressive financial valuation (most recently raising $1.2 billion in a financing round that valued the company at over $15 billion).


Act Fast! Get Access To Your Genetic Past, Present, and Future For One Low, Low Price

Hannah Mosby, MJLST Staffer

 

It’s Saturday morning, and you’re flipping through channels on your TV when you hear the familiar vocal inflections of an infomercial. For three monthly installments of $19.99, you can get access to your complete genetic ancestry, and any genetic predispositions that might impact your health—both now and in the future. From the comfort of your couch, you can order a kit, provide a DNA sample, and poof. . . a month or two later, you know everything you could ever want to know about your own genetic makeup. Sounds a little far-fetched, right?

 

Wrong. It’s 2017, and genetic testing kits are not only readily accessible to the public—they’re relatively inexpensive. Curious about whether you’re really German and Irish? Wondering if you—like your mother and her grandmother—might develop Alzheimer’s disease? Companies like 23andMe have you covered. The company advertises kits that cover both ancestry and certain health risks, and has recorded the sale of over 2 million testing kits. Maybe you’ve heard your friend, your coworker, or your sister talking about these genetic tests—or maybe they’ve already ordered their own kit.

 

What they’re probably not talking about, however, is the host of bioethical implications this sort of at-home genetic testing has. To some, ancestry may be cocktail party conversation, but to others, heritage is an enormous component of their personal identity. Purchasing a genetic testing kit may mean suddenly finding out that your ancestry isn’t what you thought it was, and consumers may or may not understand the emotional and psychological implications of these kinds of results. Genetic health risks present an even bigger ethical challenge—it’s all too easy to mistake the word “predisposition” for a diagnosis. Unless consumers are thoroughly educated about the implications of specific gene variants, companies like 23andMe aren’t providing useful health data—they’re providing enormously impactful information that the average consumer may not be equipped to understand or cope with.

 

It’s also easy to forget about the data privacy concerns. According to 23andMe’s commercial website, “23andMe gives you control over your genetic information. We want you to decide how your information is used and with whom it is shared.” That sounds nice—but is that “meaningful choice” masked in legal-ese? Existing federal regulation bars discriminatory use of genetic information by insurance companies and employers, but how does that affect other entities, if it does at all? Third-party access to this highly personal information is under-regulated, and it can’t be adequately safeguarded by “consent” without thoroughly explaining to consumers the potential implications of third-party disclosure.

 

It’s easy to get wrapped up in new and exciting biotechnology—especially when it’s publicly accessible. And we should be excited. . . accessibility and transparency in a field as intimidating as genetics can be is worth celebrating. Further, genetic testing brings with it a host of preventative health and personal benefits. However, it also raises some ethical and regulatory concerns, and it’s important to make sure our enthusiasm—as consumers, but also as entrepreneurs—for genetic technology doesn’t outpace the regulatory systems available to govern it.


Health in the Fast Lane: FDA’s Effort to Streamline Digital Health Technology Approval

Alex Eschenroeder, MJLST Staffer

 

The U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) is testing out a fast-track approval program to see if it can accommodate the pace of innovation in the technology industry and encourage more ventures into the digital health technology space. Dr. Scott Gottlieb M.D., Commissioner of the FDA, announced the fast-track pilot program—officially named the “Pre-Cert for Software Pilot Program” (Program)—on July 27, 2017. Last week, the FDA announced the names of the nine companies it selected out of more than 100 applicants to participate in the Program. Companies that made it onto the participant list include tech giants such as Apple and Samsung, as well as Verily Life Sciences—a subsidiary of Alphabet, Inc. The FDA also listed smaller startups, indicating that it intends to learn from entities at various stages of development.

The FDA idea that attracted applicants from across the technology industry to the Program is roughly analogous to the TSA Pre-Check Program. With TSA Pre-Check certification, travelers at airports get exclusive access to less intensive pre-boarding security procedures because they submitted to an official background check (among other requirements) well before their trip. Here, the FDA Program completes extensive vetting of participating technology companies well before they bring a specific digital health technology product to market. As Dr. Gottlieb explained in the July Program announcement, “Our new, voluntary pilot program will enable us to develop a tailored approach toward this technology by looking first at the . . . developer, rather than primarily at the product (as we currently do for traditional medical products).” If the FDA determines through its review that a company meets necessary quality standards, it can pre-certify the company. A pre-certified company would then need to submit less information to the FDA “than is currently required before marketing a new digital health tool.” The FDA even proposed the possibility of a pre-certified company skipping pre-market review for certain products, as long as the company immediately started collecting post-market data for FDA to confirm safety and effectiveness.

While “digital health technology” does not have a simple definition, a recently announced Apple initiative illustrates what the term can mean and how the FDA Program could encourage its innovation. Specifically, Apple recently announced plans to undertake a Heart Study in collaboration with Stanford Medicine. Through this study, researchers will use “data from Apple Watch to identify irregular heart rhythms, including those from potentially serious heart conditions like atrial fibrillation.” Positive research results could encourage Apple, which “wants the Watch to be able to detect common heart conditions such as atrial fibrillation”, to move further into FDA regulated territory. Indeed, Apple has been working with the FDA, aside from the Program, to organize the Heart Study. This is a critical development, as Apple has intentionally limited Watch sensors to “fitness trackers and heart rate monitors” to avoid FDA regulation to date. If Apple receives pre-certification through the Program, it could issue updates to a sophisticated heart monitoring app or issue an entirely different diagnostic app with little or no FDA pre-market review. This dynamic would encourage Apple, and companies like it, to innovate in digital health technology and create increasingly sophisticated tools to protect consumer health.


Artificial Wombs and the Abortion Debate

Henry Rymer, MJLST Staffer

In a study published in the latter part of April 2017, a group of scientists reported that they had created an “extra-uterine system” that assisted in the gestation, and eventual birth, of several fetal lambs. This device, which houses the fetus in a clear plastic bag, is filled with a synthetic amniotic fluid that flows in and out of the bag through a pump system. While inside this artificial womb, the fetus is attached to a machine outside of the bag by its umbilical cord. This machine is used for several purposes: providing nutrition to the fetus, giving the fetus necessary medication, providing the blood of the fetus with a blend of air, oxygen and nitrogen, and removing carbon dioxide from the bloodstream. The scientists report that in housing the premature lamb fetuses in this system, the scientists were able to “maintain stable haemodynamics, have normal blood gas and oxygenation parameters, and maintain patency of the fetal circulation” within the fetuses. Additionally, the scientists report that the fetal lambs subject to this test were able to demonstrate “normal somatic growth, lung maturation and brain growth and myelination.” The scientists’ report that they believe that this extra-uterine system would not be relegated only to animal use, as they believe that the device could support a premature human infant “for up to four weeks.”

With the advent of this new piece of neonatal technology, specifically with the implications of what this invention (and others like it) would have on fetal development for humans, the artificial womb poses the power to completely shift the paradigm in regards to how the abortion debate is framed. In particular, the impact that this invention will have when combined with American jurisprudence will surely be a new point of contention between Pro-Abortion activists and their Anti-Abortion counterparts.

With the Supreme Court case of Planned Parenthood v. Casey, SCOTUS re-enshrined the thesis of Roe v. Wade: namely that women have the right to have an abortion prior to the viability of the fetus. Planned Parenthood of Southeastern Pa. v. Casey, 505 U.S. 833, 846. The Casey court also stated that states have the power to “restrict abortions after fetal viability, if the law contains exceptions for pregnancies which endanger the woman’s life or health” and that the “State has a legitimate interest from the outset of the pregnancy in protecting the health of the woman and the life of the fetus that may become a child.” Id.

The arguments that arise from the advent of an artificial womb in conjunction with case law flows from the notion of what a “viable” fetus would be after extra-uterine systems become more mainstream and sophisticated. If these machines develop to a point in which they can take a fetus the moment after conception and develop it for its entire gestation period, will abortion procedures become completely outlawed? Will “viability” remain the measure by which a fetus is distinguished from a human, or will a new metric be invented to replace “viability?” Additionally, will this be a problem that the courts will have to answer? The legislature? Or a combination of both? The invention of artificial wombs seems to be a periphery legal issue that will not have to be answered for some time yet. However, there are many questions that need to be answered as technology improves and develops, and the abortion debate will not be a topic that will remain untouched as humanity moves into the future.


A Different Kind of Egg For Easter: Scientific Proof of Fetal Pain and the Legal Right to Choose Abortion

Angela Fralish, MJLST Invited Blogger

On January 3, 2017 Congressman Trent Franks from Arizona suggested a major change in the law which could overturn precedent of more than 30 years. He introduced the “Pain-Capable Unborn Child Protection Act” which generally prohibits abortions after 20 weeks. Fueling this highly controversial legislation is a complex scientific and legal debate as to whether or not the fetus can feel pain at 20 weeks, and if that proof should result in a change in the law.

Advocates on both sides of the Act include physicians, legislators, constitutional law experts, policy interest groups, philosophers and neuroscientists. Supporters of non-interference prior to viability advocate that proof of fetal pain is not substantiated. One the other side, fetal pain protestors argue that a fetus can in fact feel pain at 20 weeks, and abortions should be proscribed between after that time.

The Supreme Court ruled in watershed cases Roe v. Wade (1973), and Planned Parenthood v. Casey (1992), that a woman’s right to elect an abortion prior to viability, which is usually 23 to 24 weeks, is a constitutionally protected “fundamental right.” Time and time again, the Supreme Court has upheld that precedent, and prevented the right to interfere with a woman’s choice prior to viability. However, new medical technology advances call the old law into question. As Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O’Connor noted in Roe, medical science will reduce the point of viability and “Roe is clearly on a collision course with itself.”

Scientifically speaking, both parties have referenced the anatomical makeup for fetal pain to support their arguments. Studies show that the thalamus and pain sensor receptors, usually developed by 20 weeks, are used to process pain. The counter argument is that the anatomical capability to feel pain does not equate to actually feeling pain: fetuses at 20 weeks lack the necessary pain pathways, or physiological ability to communicate pain, even if the thalamus and receptors are available. Legislative findings of the Pain-Capable Unborn Child Protection Act argue that fetuses at 20 weeks not only respond to touch, but also emit stress hormones and recoil at painful stimuli. Thus, some have concluded that fetuses are indeed “capable” of feeling pain and abortion should be proscribed at that time.

So where should the court draw the line? One past example of legislation related to medical uncertainty related to fetal pain was the Partial Birth Abortion Act of 2003. After much controversy, this act was upheld by Gonzalez v. Carhart  (2007) noting that “medical uncertainty does not foreclose the exercise of legislative power in the abortion context any more than it does in other contexts.” In this sense, Congressman Trent Franks’ bill could potentially pass, despite long held precedent, because the courts retain legislative power within the abortion context when there is medical uncertainty. However, much like the Partial Birth Abortion Act, if Congress passes this legislation, it will be up to the state courts and modern day legal advocates to reinforce or discredit it on a case-by-case basis.

Only time will tell how this intricately webbed science-law issue will play out. Judith Munson quoted as early as 1975 in her article Fetal Research: A View from Right to Life to Wrongful Birth, “The controversy has become a contest between the state of the art and the state of the law.” Constitutional lawyers, physicians and the general public certainly have their work cut out for them in understanding how medical science impacts the law. As O.D. Jones remarks, “Law and neuroscience seem strange bedfellows. But the engagement of law with neuroscientific evidence was inevitable.” This holds especially true in relation to mother chicks and decisions regarding their “eggs.”


No Divorce Just Yet, But Clearly This Couple Has Issues: Medicaid and the Future of Federal-State Health Policy

Jordan Rude, MJLST Staffer

With the recent demise of the American Health Care Act (AHCA), the Affordable Care Act (ACA) will remain in effect, at least for now. One of the crucial issues that divided the Republican caucus was Medicaid—specifically, whether the ACA’s expansion of Medicaid should remain in place or be rolled back (or eliminated entirely). Moderate or centrist Republicans, and particularly some Republican governors, wanted to retain the expansion, while the House Freedom Caucus and other conservatives wanted to eliminate it, either immediately or in the near future.

Sara Rosenbaum, in her article Can This Marriage Be Saved? Federalism and the Future of U.S. Health Policy Under the Affordable Care Act examined the changing relationship between federal and state health policy under the ACA. Two areas in which this relationship was most affected were the ACA’s health insurance marketplaces and expansion of Medicaid: In both, the ACA significantly increased the federal government’s role at the expense of state control. The Supreme Court’s ruling in National Federation of Independent Business v. Sebelius held that the federal government could not require states to expand their Medicaid coverage, pushing back against increased federal power in this area. As of today, approximately 20 states have taken advantage of this ruling and chosen not to expand their programs. Rosenbaum argued that the tension between the ACA’s promise of universal coverage and some states’ refusal to expand Medicaid would defeat the purpose of the ACA, and she proposed a federal “Medicaid fallback” to replace lost coverage in those states.

The AHCA proposed a different, and simpler, solution to this problem—phase out the Medicaid expansion over time until it is completely gone. As noted above, this did not have much of a positive reception. Now that the AHCA’s proposal has been shelved, if only momentarily, some states that had not previously expanded Medicaid (such as Kansas) are moving forward with plans to expand it now. Such plans still face stiff opposition from conservatives, but the failure of the AHCA, along with the ACA’s growing popularity, may shift the argument in favor of expansion.

The end result of this recent healthcare debate, however, was retention of the status quo: The ACA is still in effect, and a significant number of states have still not expanded Medicaid coverage. The underlying issue that Rosenbaum discussed in her article has still not been addressed. The clash between federal and state policy continues: The marriage is not over, but it is not clear whether it can be saved.