New, rigorous study looks for genes associated with education—but doesn’t find much

classroom Genetics may impact how long you stay in school—by a factor of a month or so. Photo by velkr0.

Late update: Michelle Meyer, who sits on the advisory board of the consortium responsible for the study discussed below, briefly discusses the results on her blog, and links to a Frequently Asked Questions document [PDF] meant to accompany the study, which makes some reasonable and sensible points about how best to understand the findings. A point I didn’t emphasize originally is that the small effect size of the sites identified suggests that a lot of previous “sociological genetics” studies are now called into question—because their sample sizes were far too small to detect such subtle effects.

A few months ago, I roundly thrashed a study that attempted to identify genes associated with educational achievement. It was, to put it mildly, shooting fish in a barrel: that paper was published in a journal that doesn’t handle much (if any) genetics research, the sample size was small, the genetic data was sparse, the analysis applied to the genetic data didn’t test for what the authors wanted to test for, and the authors ignored basic statistical practice when they interpreted the results.

This week, though, there’s a new study of the genetic basis for educational achievement that is the mirror-image opposite of the one I beat up: it’s online ahead of print in Science, it has a great big sample size of 101,069 participants and a built-in “replication” sample of 25,490 more, it works with good genome-wide genetic data, and it looks to be both admirably careful in its statistical work and cautious in its conclusions—which is consistent with the inclusion, in the paper’s lengthy author list, of some folks who know what they’re talking about when it comes to association genetics.

So, naturally, I wanted to write something about this study as a nice example of what’s possible when genetic analysis is done right. Unfortunately, the actual results of the study don’t give me much to discuss—because, for all its rigor and caution, it doesn’t find much in the way of genetic explanation for educational achievement.

First, a little more explanation of the work itself. The authors clearly note that they’re not looking for gene variants that cause people to go to college—they’re looking for gene variants associated with increased educational achievement, which might actually be related to some sort of underlying cognitive ability. Educational achievement is simply a convenient proxy for that unknown capacity, because it’s relatively standardized across modern nations. So the authors rounded up data from almost 130,000 people who have volunteered to be genotyped at millions of loci, and who had indicated (1) how many years of education they’d completed and (2) whether or not they completed a college degree.

For each of those education-related measures, the authors conducted a fairly standard genome-wide association (GWA) analysis—asking, for every genetic marker in the dataset, whether people with one version of the marker went to school for longer, or were more likely to complete college, than people with the other version of the marker. The idea is that when people with different versions of a genetic marker differ especially strongly in a particular measurement, that marker probably lies in region of genetic code that contributes to the value of that measurement. Good statistical practice—which the authors followed—requires that you set the threshold of “especially strongly” higher as you test more markers, and that you validate the markers you find in a first association analysis by conducting a second, independent analysis with a different sample of test subjects to see if the same markers turn up again.

But this big, careful study didn’t find all that much. A handful of markers passed the GWA search critera—three with “genome-wide significant” effects and another seven with “suggestive” effects. None of these markers were associated with large differences in educational attainment—a couple months more time in school or a slightly different chance of completing college. And when the authors looked at the collective effects of all the markers that were associated even weakly with differences in education, they found they only explained about 2% of the variation in the number of years of education attained; or 3% of variation in college completion.

Magnified (8/365) Statistically significant effects—but vanishingly small ones. Photo by jakebouma.

For comparison, the authors note that estimates based on studies of twins or other close relatives have found that genetic relatedness accounts for up to 40% of variation in educational achievement. That’s either a lot of missing heritability, or an indication that the relatedness-based studies are grossly overestimating genetic effects.

The authors conclude that “For complex social-science phenotypes that are likely to have a genetic architecture similar to educational attainment, our estimate of [an effect size of] 0.02% [per candidate marker] can serve as a benchmark for conducting power analyses and evaluating the plausibility of existing findings in the literature.” That’s a slightly roundabout way of saying that future attempts to identify gene regions contributing to educational achievement or other intelligence-related traits will need to have sample sizes big enough to deal with teeny tiny effects.

What I take away from this work is that, in the end, non-genetic effects—parents’ income, local school quality, nutrition, culutral expectations, you name it—are much more important than genetics. I have to say, I don’t think that’s especially surprising, but it’s always nice to see data that backs up one’s own expectations.

And that leads into my final thought about this paper: for all the caution and rigor that went into the analysis, what do the authors expect folks to do with the results? Say that they had, indeed, found some gene regions that explain a substantial fraction of variation in educational achievement. What, exactly, is the application for such knowledge? Genetic testing of college applicants? Screening embryos for favorable gene variants? Drugs targeted to the proteins produced by the candidate genes? (But then, we already have drugs that enhance cognitive performance, like Ritalin or my personal favorite, orally-administered infusions of caffeine.)

I don’t raise these questions because I wish that this study hadn’t been conducted—I believe knowledge is important for its own sake. But it’s impossible to contemplate this kind of research without thinking of its Gattaca-like implications. And in that sense, the weak results of the study are something of a relief. I’d personally much rather live in a world where we spend education budgets on actually educating students, instead of testing them for gene variants that might predict how well they’ll do in school.◼

Reference

Rietveld C.A., Medland S.E., Derringer J., Yang J., Esko T., Martin N.W., Westra H.J., Shakhbazov K., Abdellaoui A. & Agrawal A. et al. GWAS of 126,559 individuals identifies genetic variants associated with educational attainment, Science, DOI:

Science online, visibly relevant edition

Dandelion Dandelions are packed with yummy glucosinolates. Photo by nothingtosay.

The Molecular Ecologist: Relentless Evolution

Medium Ground-Finch (Geospiza fortis) Darwin’s finches, like this medium ground finch, are a prime example of what John Thompson calls “relentless evolution.” Photo by David Cook Wildlife Photography.

When I was just starting graduate school, one of the first things I wanted was readings to get me up to speed on the current state of research on the evolution of interactions between species. My dissertation advisor handed me The Geographic Mosaic of Coevolution, by John Thompson (who, it should be said, had been my advisor’s postdoctoral mentor). Thompson turned out to be just the author for the job, wrangling a huge body of research into a clear, straightforward text, and all in support of his argument that metapopulation dynamics—populations linked by migration across a landscape of varied environments—are the engine driving much of evolution.

Now, Thompson’s published a new book, titled Relentless Evolution, which pretty much picks up where The Geographic Mosaic left off. And I’ve reviewed it for The Molecular Ecologist.

Gould’s “paradox of the visibly irrelevent” holds that, if we are to understand the river of evolutionary history, we must look below the spume and spray of year-to-year adaptative change to find the deeper currents that can, over time, carve canyons. In his new book Relentless Evolution (University of Chicago Press, $35.00 in paperback), John N. Thompson makes the opposing argument with gusto: To Thompson, studying the roiling eddies that Gould dimissed as transient and superficial is the only way to understand the deeper currents, and the river’s course ahead of us.

Should you run out and buy a copy? If you’re even slightly on the fence, I suggest you go read my whole review.◼

Science online, on the road edition

2006.06.19 - departure lounge Barnacles. Photo by jby.

Science online, where no one has gone before edition

To the best of my knowledge, Spock never scanned sushi. Image via Frankie’s Soapbox.

Equality

IMG_6311 The dome of the Minnesota State Capitol. Photo by ckschleg.

Almost exactly six months after the election in which Minnesotans decided they didn’t want their state constitution to ban the legal recognition of same-sex relationships, their elected representatives provided that very recognition.

Last Thursday the state House passed a bill allowing the state to recognize same-sex couples in all the same ways it recognizes straight couples; today the Senate passed it, too; and tomorrow Governor Dayton will sign it into law. It’s almost exactly two years since another bunch of state legislators passed bills to amend the state constitution with a ban on same-sex marriage—which makes this some kind of record turn-around.

Of course, that turnaround happened because those two years contained an uprecedented campaign against the amendment by Minnesotans United for All Families leading up to a huge get-out-the-vote effort on election day that, incidentally, also saw the Democratic Farm Labor party take control of both houses of the state legislature. Almost immediately after the election, MNUnited moved to take advantage of the new, friendlier state government, re-tooling into a lobbying effort for the legislative measures that just passed.

I wasn’t anywhere near as closely involved in that new effort as I was in the campaign against the amendment—I made a couple donations, but otherwise stayed home and kept an eye on the news. This time round the action was in lobbying legislators, and I’d already helped get the out the votes to win DFL control of the legislature, and both my state rep and my state senator were co-sponsors on the House and Senate versions of the bill. Once again, a bunch of distant strangers were voting on the fullness of my citizenship—only this time the group of strangers was smaller, we already knew how most of them would vote, and there didn’t seem to be a lot of use calling up representatives and senators on whom I had no electoral claim. But the folks who did the work behind the scenes—and the folks who did call legislators and show up to rallies at the state capitol and generally keep up the pressure once the bills had been introduced into committee—made it happen.

This is far from the end of the struggle to achieve full equality before the law for all queer Americans—notably, there are 38 other states and at least one big Supreme Court decision to go, just on the single issue of civil marriage.

But it’s a mighty big step for the state of Minnesota—and it feels like we might just be riding the historical moment of inflection for the rest of the nation.

Edited to add: here, via the Minnesota Public Radio YouTube channel (with hat-tip to Joe My God), is what things looked like in the Capitol rotunda after the Senate’s vote today:

Because, duh.

Science online: Opening lab closets everywhere edition

weather Do we have enough time to teach conservatives about climate science before the storm hits? Photo by oldbilluk.

“This is water,” now in convenient filmic format

Via Slate’s Brow Beat blog, and just in time for graduation season, David Foster Wallace’s perennially apt commencement address has been adapted into a video.1

And, lest you think that this only applies to all those bright-eyed twenty-year-olds in the silly hats, see also.◼

1 There are actual, onscreen footnotes, even though I’m pretty sure the original didn’t have any, but I guess they’re there because, DFW.

Holy poop! Scicurious is pseudonymous no more

Super-blogger Scicurious is taking off the mask. Metaphorically speaking.

Her full statement is over at her Scientific American blog.

I’ve known Scicurious as an Internet friend for years now, even met her at ScienceOnline, and gone running with her, and I never knew “real” name. She was totally cool about the use of the pseudonym, politely but firmly protective of her other identity. But it’s still very nice to meet Bethany Brookshire. It feels, just a little bit, like she’s come out of … well, maybe not the closet. Some sort of smaller-than-necessary, confining space with opaque walls. Er.

Anyway: Congratulations, Bethany! It turns out that I love your work.◼

New project: Surveying LGBTQ folks working in science

Rainbow leds Photo by Julio Martinez.

I’m pleased and excited to announce that a project I’ve been working on for the last few months is finally ready to launch: A new, nationwide survey of queer folks working in science, technology, engineering, and mathematics.

You may recall that back when I hosted the first Pride Month edition of the Diversity in Science Carnival, one of the recurring themes was that, although we know lesbians, gay men, and bisexual and trans* folks work in STEM fields, our presence isn’t very visible. A few months ago, I started poking around the peer-reviewed literature, looking for studies of LGBT folks in science. I didn’t find much. Studies of LGBT folks in academia either focus primarily on undergraduate students, or consider faculty and staff across all academic disciplines as a group, or they consider very small, localized samples. And careers in STEM extend well beyond the campuses of research universities—what about folks outside the ivory tower?

I brought this up with my friend Allison Mattheis, who just happens to be the perfect person to talk to about this kind of thing: she’s just finished a Ph.D. in Organizational Leadership, Policy, and Development, and who is starting a faculty position in the College of Education at California State University Los Angeles this fall. Together we decided that, yes, there’s a real gap in the existing literature—and we want to close that gap.

So, in our not-very-considerable spare time, Alli and I have been putting together the first stage of a study to answer the questions we have about queer folks in STEM: who we are, what we study, and how our identities have shaped our interest in science and our experiences of working in research. That first stage is an online survey, which we’re hoping to distribute as widely as possible using a strategy called (heh) “snowball sampling”—asking folks who take the survey to pass it on to their friends and colleagues.

As of today, that survey is live and accepting responses at a dedicated website, QueerSTEM.org. If you’re lesbian, gay, bisexual, or trans*, have at least a Bachelor’s or technical degree, and are currently working in a STEM field in any capacity—from grad school to tenure-track faculty to corporate R&D to government employees to teachers—then we want to hear from you. Go take the survey, and then help us spread the word by sharing the short-link http://bit.ly/queerSTEM on Facebook and Google Plus, tweeting it (with the hashtag #QueerSTEM, if you please), or e-mailing it to folks who should contribute.

The plan is to leave the survey open for sampling until we’re satisified that we’ve collected a large, thorough sample of queer folks working in STEM in the U.S. I’ll share prelminary results as they become available—both here and on the blog at QueerSTEM.org—and, with any luck, we’ll ultimately publish what we find in an appropriate scholarly journal. We’re very excited to see the picture of sexual diversity in scientific careers that emerges from this work.◼