A research blog from the Centre for Resarch Ethics & Bioethics (CRB)

Tag: brain

Ethical and legal reflections on ex-vivo human brain research

When researchers at Yale University announced a few years ago that they had successfully restored circulation and certain cellular functions in pig brains hours after death, the tabloid press immediately seized on the story. The papers created a sensationalist narrative around the discovery, with headlines such as: “Scientists breathe life into dead pigs in bizarre Frankenstein experiment.” I recently had the opportunity to attend a medical law conference and listen to a lecture by Stephen R. Latham, Director of the Interdisciplinary Center for Bioethics at Yale University, on how science has progressed from those initial pig experiments to human ex-vivo brain research. This technological leap raises bioethical and legal questions that go far beyond the simplistic visions of the popular media.

The perfusion system developed by Yale researchers represents a paradigm shift in neuroscience. During the procedure, oxygen, glucose, and infection-controlling antibiotics are delivered to post-mortem brains (9-15, and occasionally 17 hours after death). Oxygen transport is facilitated using a molecule derived from Canadian earthworms. This perfusion can reverse ischemic damage, restoring cellular and metabolic functions, while the blood-brain barrier remains intact and observable throughout. An important technical detail is that while the energy provided by the perfusion fluid (perfusate) is sufficient to restart cellular metabolism, it is not enough to cause the neurons to fire. As a “belts and suspenders” measure, the system also circulates propofol, a strong anesthetic, which inherently prevents neuronal activity. This model is of inestimable value in translational medicine, particularly in Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s disease research. Unlike animal experiments or artificially grown organoids, this model uses actual human brains, typically 60-80 years old, which occasionally exhibit pathological changes. As a result, the off-target effects of potential therapies can be observed immediately and accurately, eliminating biases stemming from the incompatibility of animal models.

The deepest bioethical dilemma centers around the potential reawakening of consciousness in the ex-vivo brain. To ensure thar this does not happen, researchers monitor the perfused human brains using EEG (initially all of them, now through representative sampling), and the measurements prove that no organized electrical activity is present in the cerebral cortex. Since contemporary theories suggest that consciousness cannot exist without electrical activity, we know that the donor’s brain does not “wake up” and does not undergo subjective experiences. The current ethical consensus implies a short-term ban on research that would permit the return of any form of consciousness in human brains. The reason for this is rational and irrefutable: it is impossible to obtain valid informed consent from a donor, as one cannot predict what subjective experiences a disembodied, perfused brain would undergo. However, this ban paves the way for valuable clinical research of the kind discussed above, in which consciousness does not arise.

The technology also challenges the very definition of death. Under US law, death is defined as the complete and irreversible cessation of cardiopulmonary or whole-brain functions. Ex-vivo perfusion and modern resuscitation techniques show that biological “irreversibility” is relative, because science can now restore circulation and certain cellular functions after death. For example, during some transplant procedures, doctors restart a deceased patient’s heart to keep organs fresh, while deliberately blocking blood flow to the head. Because of this, a growing number of people in bioethics are questioning the traditional “dead-donor rule,” considering the harvesting of organs from patients who technically do not meet the legal definition of death but will never regain consciousness and have expressed a desire to donate. An alternative approach would be to view irreversibility not merely as a biological reality, but as a matter of choice. If the patient (or their family) previously directed that they do not want their vital functions or brain metabolism restored, then the condition becomes irreversible by virtue of the patient’s will – and this marks the actual boundary of death.

One of the most sensitive aspects of the research is the ethical procurement of brains from donors. Currently, donors are individuals who registered as organ donors during their lifetimes, but whose organs were deemed ineligible for transplantation at the time of death (e.g., due to disease). Families authorize the removal and use of the whole brain for perfusion research through Organ Procurement Organizations. However, the future, more transparent approach is to obtain advance informed consent directly from the donors while they are still alive, in accordance with an Institutional Review Board (IRB) approved protocol.

There is practically a complete legal vacuum in this area. Although certain standards regulate tissue donors’ consent or data management, there is very little specific law governing preclinical research on human tissue. Paradoxically, it is the researchers themselves who are most actively soliciting regulation. A clear framework would reduce the risk of legal liability, reassure investors, and, most importantly, maintain public trust. While formal legislation is delayed, professional groups must proactively step up by developing self-regulatory standards and ethical codes (so-called soft law) that they can present as authoritative to funders and research partners.

I am grateful to Professor Stephen R. Latham for the interesting and thought-provoking conversation at the conference. One of the things I learned was that technological development has once again outpaced legislation, and that interdisciplinary dialogue is essential to ensure that science does not cross the ethical boundaries that protect human dignity.

Arpad Karalyos

Written by…

Árpád Karalyos, visiting scholar at the Centre for Research Ethics & Bioethics and fifth-year law student at the Pázmány Péter Catholic University in Budapest, Hungary.

Beyond awareness: the need for a more comprehensive ethics of disorders of consciousness

Michele FariscoDisorders of consciousness like coma, unresponsive wakefulness syndrome, and what is known as minimally conscious state, are among the most challenging issues in current ethical debates. Ethical analyses of these states usually focus on the ‘residual’ awareness that these patients might still have. Such awareness is taken to have bearing on other factors that are usually considered ethically central, like the patients’ well-being.

Yet, when we take a look at recent scientific investigations of mental activity it appears that things are much more complicated than usually thought. Cognitive science provides empirical evidence that the unconscious brain is able to perform almost all the activities that we (wrongly) think are exclusive of consciousness, including enjoying positive emotions and disregarding negative ones. To illustrate, people that are subliminally exposed to drawings of happy or sad faces are emotionally conditioned in their evaluation of unknown objects, like Chinese characters for people who don’t know Chinese. If preceded by subliminal happy faces, these characters are more likely to elicit positive feelings when consciously perceived. This means that unconscious emotions exist, and these emotions are (plausibly) positive or negative. This in turn suggests that consciousness is not required to have emotions.

Accordingly, people with disorders of consciousness could also have unconscious emotions. Even though they are not capable of external behavior from which we could infer the presence of positive or negative emotional life, we cannot rule out the possibility that these patients’ residual brain activity is related to a residual unaware emotional life, which can be either positive or negative.

We should try to avoid becoming biased by the sort of “consciousness-centrism” that impedes us from seeing the total landscape: there is a lot going on behind (and beyond) the eyes of our awareness.

What does this imply for the ethics of caring for and interacting with people affected by severe disorders of consciousness? Well, as previously said, the ethical discourse surrounding the care for and the relationship with these people has usually focused on their residual awareness, scrutinizing whether and to what extent these people could consciously experience good and bad feelings. Yet if it is possible to have these experiences at the unaware level, shouldn’t this be a relevant consideration when engaging in an ethical analysis of patients with disorders of consciousness? In other words, shouldn’t we take care of their residual unconsciousness in addition to their residual consciousness?

I believe we need to enlarge the scope of our ethical analyses of patients with disorders of consciousness, or at least acknowledge that focusing on residual consciousness is not all we should do, even if it is all we presently can do.

Michele Farisco

Winkielman P., Berridge K.C. Unconscious emotion. Current Directions in Psychological Science. 2004;13(3):120-3

We challenge habits of thought : the Ethics Blog

Interview with Kathinka Evers

One of my colleagues here at CRB, Kathinka Evers, recently returned from Barcelona, where she participated in the lecture series, The Origins of the Human Mind:

PS: Why did you participate in this series?

KE: I was invited by the Centre for Contemporary Culture to present the rise of neuroethics and my views on informed materialism.

PS: Why were you invited to talk on these issues?

KE: My last book was recently translated into Spanish (Quando la materia se despierta), and it has attracted interest amongst philosophers and neuroscientists in the Spanish speaking world. In that book, I extend a materialist theory of mind, called “informed materialism,” to neuroethical perspectives, discussing, for example, free will, self-conceptions and personal responsibility.

PS: In a previous blog post I commented upon Roger Scruton’s critical attitude to neuroscientific analyses of subjects that traditionally belong to the social and human sciences. What’s your opinion on his criticism?

KE: Contemporary neuroscience can enrich numerous areas of social science. But the reverse is also true. The brain is largely the result of socio-cultural influences. Understanding the brain also involves understanding its embodiment in a social context. The social and neurobiological perspectives dynamically interact in our development of a deeper understanding of the human mind, of consciousness, and of human identity.

PS: Do you mean that the criticism presupposes a one-sided view of the development of neuroscience?

KE: I suspect that the criticism is not well-informed, scientifically, since it fails to take this neuro-cultural symbiosis into account. But it is not uncommon for philosophers to take a rather defensive position against neuroscientific attempts to enter philosophical domains.

PS: Was this tension noticeable at the meeting in Barcelona?

KE: Not really. Rather, the debate focused on how interdisciplinary collaborations have at last achieved what the theoretical isolationism of the twentieth century – when philosophy of mind was purely a priori and empirical brain science refused to study consciousness – failed to achieve: the human brain is finally beginning to understand itself and its own mind.

Kathinka Evers has developed a course in neuroethics and is currently drafting a new book (in English) on brain and mind.

Pär Segerdahl

We transgress disciplinary borders - the Ethics Blog