Iceland plans reigned in

Back in 2000, when the imminent completion of the human genome fired the imagination of many biotech entrepreneurs and the internet bubble had yet to burst, many people were considering the logical next step after the genome. After establishing the three billion letters of DNA code that we all have in common, the hunt was on for the much smaller number of letters that are variable between individuals and that are held responsible for a range of problems, from inherited disease through to different responses to prescription drugs. Projects that sought to link medical, genealogical and genetic information in an attempt to crack the code of human genetic variability were seen shooting up everywhere, using small gene pools like isolated Italian villages or larger ones, like the entire nations of Iceland and Estonia (Curr. Biol. (2001), 11, R1). One of the earliest starters in the new field of pharmacogenomics was the Icelandic genome project, masterminded by geneticist Kari Stefansson and spearheaded by his company Decode Genetics. Stefansson managed to enthuse politicians and large parts of the general public in Iceland with his promises of turning the peculiarities of their nation — few founders, long isolation, good genealogical record-keeping — into biotech gold. By buying shares in the company, all Icelanders would be able to make a profit from the research into their own genetic heritage. As early as 1998, after intensive public debate, the News focus Michael Gross looks at the problems that beset plans for the country's pioneering genome project. Icelandic parliament approved a bill enabling the establishment of a central medical database, where medical information was to be linked with genealogical details and gene sequences obtained from blood samples. As a result of the public debate, a watchdog was created to control the power of Decode over the participants. While the default option was that all medical records would be included in the database, everybody who wished to do so could opt out of the project. Given these precautions and the highly democratic process that led to this arrangement, what could possibly go wrong? By 2002, however, the Icelandic genome bubble had burst on the stock market. Maybe politicians and biotech entrepreneurs made more promises than they could keep in the short term, or maybe the hype generated by an Side step: Plans for a national genomics database for Icelanders have faltered.