Not My Genes?
Wolfram Donat
October 18, 2005
I received something of a shock today. I was informed that one fifth of my genes don’t belong to me.
Notice I said ‘genes’ and not ‘jeans.’ It’s not a typo. There is no ownership dilemma with my Levi’s. The genome sequences in my DNA, however, are apparently another matter.
According to a study published in this week’s issue of Science, fully 20% of human genes have been patented, mostly by private firms and universities. The study marks the first time anyone has mapped the relationship between patents and specific parts of the human gene sequence. According to Professor Fiona Murray, a science professor at MIT and a co-author of the study, specific isolated DNA sequences can be patented in the same manner as a new medicine, if someone were to identify one, and are patented by researchers because they are potentially useful tools in such applications as diagnostic tests and in producing new drugs.
This worries me. I was always under the impression that half of my genes were given to me by my mother, half by my father, and the third half by the Yellow Pod People from the planet Yerquist. After that nifty DNA double helix was given to me, it became mine to do with as I chose. If I choose to unravel it and make a macramé owl, I was free to do so.
Seems that’s not the case. I suppose I could, as long as I don’t mess up any specific sequences. If I should happen to mix up one G-T-A-C chain, though, I’m breaking U.S. patent laws and am vulnerable to a lawsuit. And it’s not new, either. The first gene patents were obtained around 1978, so I’ve been using someone else’s intellectual property for a while now. I really hope I didn’t break anything – there are a few episodes in college that I really can’t remember, and breaking a genetic coding series is just the sort of thing I might have done accidentally.
Okay, okay, so I’m being facetious. Nobody really owns your genes. To get the straight story, I went to my old friend Dr. Buster Schnozzlehammer. He and I go way back, and I can ask him these sorts of questions now that the restraining order has expired. I asked him if people actually owned my DNA.
Not really,” he responded. “The patents keep you or me or research competitors from using the gene sequence to do something different with it. In other words, there’s only one gene that can be used to make human growth hormone, and the company that owns the patent on that gene is the only one allowed to use it to make HGH.”
So is it a good thing or a bad thing?” I asked him.
It has its good and bad points. It helps researchers find funding because if they have patented the sequence with which they’re working, then there’s less of a chance of their work being copied. On the other hand, it cuts down on competition, and competition has spurred a lot of scientific advancements over the generations.”
I thanked him and paid for his drink, then came home and did some more research. Aside from the fact that it does tend to eliminate competition, another thing that worries me is that if a scientist has to wade through hundreds of patents to continue his research, he’s less likely to do so. Dr. Schnozzlehammer may find the cure for cancer tomorrow, but he’ll throw it out the window for fear of infringing on someone else’s patent. He’s pretty unlikely to do that, but the scenario is realistic, if perhaps a little oversimplified.
I’m glad I learned about my genes’ true ownership. Maybe we shouldn’t have guardianship of our DNA strands. I mean, I can be pretty irresponsible, and I’m not nearly as bad as a few other people I could name but won’t. I would hate to be the one person on the planet who has the necessary genomes that can be replicated and tweaked to cure the common cold, but my G-T-A-C sequence is messed up because I had too much Scotch and plutonium last New Year’s Eve during the party at the local nuclear reactor. Maybe I should look into a babysitter.
Notice I said ‘genes’ and not ‘jeans.’ It’s not a typo. There is no ownership dilemma with my Levi’s. The genome sequences in my DNA, however, are apparently another matter.
According to a study published in this week’s issue of Science, fully 20% of human genes have been patented, mostly by private firms and universities. The study marks the first time anyone has mapped the relationship between patents and specific parts of the human gene sequence. According to Professor Fiona Murray, a science professor at MIT and a co-author of the study, specific isolated DNA sequences can be patented in the same manner as a new medicine, if someone were to identify one, and are patented by researchers because they are potentially useful tools in such applications as diagnostic tests and in producing new drugs.
This worries me. I was always under the impression that half of my genes were given to me by my mother, half by my father, and the third half by the Yellow Pod People from the planet Yerquist. After that nifty DNA double helix was given to me, it became mine to do with as I chose. If I choose to unravel it and make a macramé owl, I was free to do so.
Seems that’s not the case. I suppose I could, as long as I don’t mess up any specific sequences. If I should happen to mix up one G-T-A-C chain, though, I’m breaking U.S. patent laws and am vulnerable to a lawsuit. And it’s not new, either. The first gene patents were obtained around 1978, so I’ve been using someone else’s intellectual property for a while now. I really hope I didn’t break anything – there are a few episodes in college that I really can’t remember, and breaking a genetic coding series is just the sort of thing I might have done accidentally.
Okay, okay, so I’m being facetious. Nobody really owns your genes. To get the straight story, I went to my old friend Dr. Buster Schnozzlehammer. He and I go way back, and I can ask him these sorts of questions now that the restraining order has expired. I asked him if people actually owned my DNA.
Not really,” he responded. “The patents keep you or me or research competitors from using the gene sequence to do something different with it. In other words, there’s only one gene that can be used to make human growth hormone, and the company that owns the patent on that gene is the only one allowed to use it to make HGH.”
So is it a good thing or a bad thing?” I asked him.
It has its good and bad points. It helps researchers find funding because if they have patented the sequence with which they’re working, then there’s less of a chance of their work being copied. On the other hand, it cuts down on competition, and competition has spurred a lot of scientific advancements over the generations.”
I thanked him and paid for his drink, then came home and did some more research. Aside from the fact that it does tend to eliminate competition, another thing that worries me is that if a scientist has to wade through hundreds of patents to continue his research, he’s less likely to do so. Dr. Schnozzlehammer may find the cure for cancer tomorrow, but he’ll throw it out the window for fear of infringing on someone else’s patent. He’s pretty unlikely to do that, but the scenario is realistic, if perhaps a little oversimplified.
I’m glad I learned about my genes’ true ownership. Maybe we shouldn’t have guardianship of our DNA strands. I mean, I can be pretty irresponsible, and I’m not nearly as bad as a few other people I could name but won’t. I would hate to be the one person on the planet who has the necessary genomes that can be replicated and tweaked to cure the common cold, but my G-T-A-C sequence is messed up because I had too much Scotch and plutonium last New Year’s Eve during the party at the local nuclear reactor. Maybe I should look into a babysitter.
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