In 2007, 23andMe launched their personal genome scan, a SNP-based test that offered consumers an estimate (some might say a guess) as to how certain elements of their genotype might contribute to their likelihood of having an array of traits and diseases. It was a great success, if success was to be measured in ink and column inches rather than actual dollars. Anne Wojcicki’s company quickly came to represent the embodiment of direct-to-consumer genetic testing, an icon of what was more a movement than an industry.
For that reason, six years later, when the FDA surprised 23andMe with a cease and desist order for their genome scan, it could reasonably be taken as a rejection of not only one company but the entire DTC ethos. At the time, many canny observers pointed out that the FDA’s drastic move seemed to have more to do with 23andMe’s attitude than it did with any specific risk posed by testing. As Duke University genetic professor and trenchant observer Misha Angrist was quoted as saying at the time, the FDA missive read “like the letter of a jilted lover…‘We went on fourteen dates! We exchanged all these e-mails! We held hands in the park! Now you’re telling me, “Fuck you,” and kicking me to the curb.’ ”
In response, a chastened 23andMe kept a toe in the DTC puddle by offering testing for ancestry and non-medical traits like sleep patterns and eye color while negotiating a slow courtship of the regulatory body. Eventually they got flowers back from the FDA – or rather a single flower, permission to offer just one carrier test, for the aptly named Bloom syndrome. But this blossom, like many others, was freighted with greater significance, and now that they were friends again the FDA decided that other DTC carrier tests would no longer require individual premarket approval, allowing 23andMe to add back a layer of medical testing to their business model.
The FDA drew a line between giving out information on carrier status (okay) and giving out information that was diagnostic (not okay). This created the odd situation where 23andMe could tell a customer if he or she had, for example, one CF-causing variant but was forbidden to inform them if they had two, since that was a presumptive diagnosis. Let’s leave aside how confusing this all gets, since sometimes people can have two disease-causing variants and remain healthy, and sometimes carriers can have medical complications. I’m not even going to mention that. See how I didn’t mention that? The bottom line was that 23andMe could inform you of a risk for something that might happen, but only if it was a mere possibility and not if it was certain or highly likely.
Two years later, the FDA has come out with another announcement – this time I assume that 23andMe is less surprised than the rest of us – that will expand the universe of what is available through DTC testing. The company will now be allowed to provide testing for susceptibility to 10 diseases and conditions with significant health implications, including late-onset Alzheimers disease, Parkinson’s. celiac, Gaucher’s disease type 1, hemochromatosis, and others. Again, this isn’t just a bouquet of flowers being handed out to a patient suitor. It signifies a change in thinking at the FDA about the value of DTC genetic testing, which they noted in their press release “may help to make decisions about lifestyle choices or to inform discussions with a health care professional.”
No but really this is getting embarrassing get a room you two.
The FDA announcement indicated that these 10 diseases were merely a beginning. In the future, 23andMe and other trusted practitioners will be able to introduce tests with less regulatory scrutiny. The FDA’s commitment to a streamlined and less burdensome process demonstrates a new interest in making DTC genetic testing widely available.
The important thing, emphasized Jeffrey Shuren, director of the FDA’s Center for Devices and Radiological Health, was that consumers did not come away believing that genetics was destiny. “…it is important that people understand that genetic risk is just one piece of the bigger puzzle, it does not mean they will or won’t ultimately develop a disease.” For this reason, the FDA has doubled down on it’s practice of differentiating between susceptibility and diagnosis.
Conceptually, this makes sense. Practically, in some cases, it creates a situation where DTC customers can access the sort of probabilistic information that we are generally loathe to give out in a clinical setting – like their chance of getting late-onset Alzheimer’s disease – but are blocked from getting exactly the sort of definitive, actionable information we value the most.
Possibly, this might serve to differentiate the realm of DTC testing from the kingdom of clinical medicine. Genetic counselors, often DTC skeptics, might feel more comfortable adopting a live and let live approach if areas central to GC practice like susceptibility for cancer and heart disease were reserved for the clinic. Still, when it comes to ApoE, it is a bit of a paradox that the solution to information deemed too hot to handle by counselors is to give it out with no counseling at all. The impact, I am inclined to believe, will be to speed the integration of probabilistic testing into genetic practice. In the meantime, it will almost certainly herald a period of rapid expansion of health and wellness testing in the DTC space.