In 2016, lured by the promise of discovering my ancestral roots, I hesitantly spat into a tube and shipped my DNA off to 23andMe for analysis. As a tech journalist wary about sharing such immutable data, my curiosity ultimately won out over my misgivings. Now, as the once-soaring genetic testing behemoth crumbles, losing 98% of its $6 billion valuation and half its workforce, I join countless customers scrambling to erase our genetic information from 23andMe’s vulnerable database.
A Disappointing Trade-off: Genetic Privacy for Ambivalent Results
In return for surrendering my genetic privacy, 23andMe confirmed the obvious—I am predominantly British and Irish, with smatterings of Danish and “broadly northwestern European” heritage. The results evoked a resounding “meh,” devoid of the enlightening ancestral revelations I had hoped might enrich my sense of identity.
Professor Timothy Caulfield, who has extensively studied consumer genetic testing, affirms this common reaction, noting, “A lot of people get their results and find it very underwhelming.” The marketing of these services, he argues, propagates the notion that our genes are central to individual identity—an idea he warns is “the essence of racism.”
Marketing Preys on Desires for Belonging and Meaning
23andMe’s advertising, while wildly successful, plays into a human yearning for roots, meaning, and a tribe to call one’s own. “People are looking for meaning and the marketing plays into that idea,” Caulfield explains. Yet, as researcher Muriel Leuenberger notes, DNA tests frequently upend long-held family lore and cultural affiliations, leaving some feeling abruptly severed from cherished ancestral ties.
“For some, you have a whole cultural background with which you really identify, maybe it was even part of your upbringing, and suddenly you’re kind of cut off from it.”
– Muriel Leuenberger, University of Zurich
The Perils of Relinquishing Genetic Privacy
As 23andMe teeters on the brink of collapse, the fate of its vast genetic database hangs in the balance, raising alarming privacy concerns. By testing our DNA, we unwittingly compromise not only our own genetic privacy but that of our relatives. Even opting out of research fails to fully safeguard data, as 23andMe concedes it must retain certain genetic information to comply with regulations.
The 17MB file of my genetic code 23andMe returned upon my deletion request underscores the sheer volume of intimate data we so readily relinquish. While reclaiming our data may feel empowering, Caulfield questions its utility, noting, “It is important to people to have a right to this data dump with their whole genome, even though for virtually every human on the planet it is meaningless.”
The Unfulfilled Promise of Genetic Self-Discovery
In the end, my 23andMe experience yielded little more than the sacrifice of my genetic privacy and a resounding ambivalence toward my unremarkable results. Perhaps visiting my ancestral homelands might stir some profound sense of belonging that would render the angst over my genomic data worthwhile. But I have my doubts that any revelations could justify the permanent forfeiture of something as immutable and intimately identifying as my genetic code.
As the allure of personal genomics fades and privacy concerns mount, I’m left regretting my choice to trade something so irreplaceable for insights so unfulfilling. In this era of eroding privacy, we must weigh more carefully the price we’re willing to pay to unravel the mysteries of our DNA.
