Survivors and scientists: Hiroshima, Fukushima, and the Radiation Effects Research Foundation, 1975-2014.

In this article, I reflect on the Radiation Effects Research Foundation and its ongoing studies of long-term radiation risk. Originally called the Atomic Bomb Casualty Commission (1947-1975), the Radiation Effects Research Foundation has carried out epidemiological research tracking the biomedical effects of radiation at Hiroshima and Nagasaki for almost 70 years. Radiation Effects Research Foundation scientists also played a key role in the assessment of populations exposed at Chernobyl and are now embarking on studies of workers at the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Plant. I examine the role of estimating dosimetry in post-disaster epidemiology, highlight how national identity and citizenship have mattered in radiation risk networks, and track how participants interpreted the relationships between nuclear weapons and nuclear energy. Industrial interests in Japan and the United States sought to draw a sharp line between the risks of nuclear war and the risks of nuclear power, but the work of the Radiation Effects Research Foundation (which became the basis of worker protection standards for the industry) and the activism of atomic bomb survivors have drawn these two nuclear domains together. This is so particularly in the wake of the Fukushima disaster, Japan's 'third atomic bombing'. The Radiation Effects Research Foundation is therefore a critical node in a complex global network of scientific institutions that adjudicate radiation risk and proclaim when it is present and when absent. Its history, I suggest, can illuminate some properties of modern disasters and the many sciences that engage with them.

Human genetics after the bomb: Archives, clinics, proving grounds and board rooms.

In this paper I track the history of post-1945 human genetics and genomics emphasizing the importance of ideas about risk to the scientific study and medical management of human heredity. Drawing on my own scholarship as it is refracted through important new work by other scholars both junior and senior, I explore how radiation risk and then later disease risk mattered to the development of genetics and genomics, particularly in the United States. In this context I excavate one of the central ironies of post-war human genetics: while studies of DNA as the origin and cause of diseases have been lavishly supported by public institutions and private investment around the world, the day-to-day labor of intensive clinical innovation has played a far more important role in the actual human experience of genetic disease and genetic risk for affected families. This has implications for the archival record, where clinical interactions are less readily accessible to historians. This paper then suggests that modern genomics grew out of radiation risk; that it was and remains a risk assessment science; that it is temporally embedded as a form of both prediction and historical reconstruction; and that it has become a big business focused more on risk and prediction (which can be readily marketed) than on effective clinical intervention.

Scaling up: human genetics as a Cold War network.

In this commentary I explore how the papers here illuminate the processes of collection that have been so central to the history of human genetics since 1945. The development of human population genetics in the Cold War period produced databases and biobanks that have endured into the present, and that continue to be used and debated. In the decades after the bomb, scientists collected and transferred human biological materials and information from populations of interest, and as they moved these biological resources or biosocial resources acquired new meanings and uses. The papers here collate these practices and map their desires and ironies. They explore how a large international network of geneticists, biological anthropologists, virologists and other physicians and scientists interacted with local informants, research subjects and public officials. They also track the networks and standards that mobilized the transfer of information, genealogies, tissue and blood samples. As Joanna Radin suggests here, the massive collections of human biological materials and data were often understood to be resources for an "as-yet-unknown" future. The stories told here contain elements of surveillance, extraction, salvage and eschatology.

Is cystic fibrosis genetic medicine's canary?

In 1989 the gene that causes cystic fibrosis (CF) was identified in a search accompanied by intense anticipation that the gene, once discovered, would lead rapidly to gene therapy. Many hoped that the disease would effectively disappear. Those affected were going to inhale vectors packed with functioning genes, which would go immediately to work in the lungs. It was a bewitching image, repeatedly invoked in both scientific and popular texts. Gene therapy clinical trials were carried out with a range of strategies and occasionally success seemed close, but by 1996 the idea that gene therapy for CF would quickly provide a cure was being abandoned by the communities engaged with treatment and research. While conventional wisdom holds that the death of Jesse Gelsinger in an unrelated gene therapy trial in 1999 produced new skepticism about gene therapy, the CF story suggests a different trajectory, and some different lessons. This article considers the rise and fall of gene therapy for CF and suggests that CF may provide a particularly compelling case study of a failed genomic technology, perhaps even of a medical "canary." The story of CF might be a kind of warning to us that genetic medicine may create as many problems as it solves, and that moving forward constructively with these techniques and practices requires many kinds of right information, not just about biology, but also about values, priorities, market forces, uncertainty, and consumer choice.