
Rebeca Rico-Hesse
Rebeca Rico-Hesse knew that she wanted to become a virologist from the age of 15, when her beloved horse was at risk of catching the Venezuelan equine encephalitis virus then spreading through northern Mexico. Thirty-three years later, after decades of working on this and other potentially deadly pathogens, she talks to Nature about why she has now dropped the work. The reason: requirements to submit to a US Department of Justice background check to keep working in the highest-security labs at the Southwest Foundation for Biomedical Research in San Antonio, Texas.
A number of scientists are pushing back against proposed additions to already-beefed-up biosecurity requirements (see 'Booming biosafety labs probed').
What viruses did you formerly work on?
I worked on arenaviruses, alphaviruses and flaviviruses. I stopped working on the first two in 2003.
Why?
Because of the Patriot Act [legislation passed in wake of the 2001 anthrax and terrorist attacks]. We have to register certain viruses as select agents. Any of us working on select agents had to go through the background check, filing our fingerprints. We even had to give a deposition to FBI agents. We had to go in and meet with three agents individually, with no lawyer present.
Initially, I told my biosafety officer and my supervisors that I took extreme offence to being treated as a criminal when I have dedicated my life to public health. So I refused. But one year later I went through the background check, because I was being treated like a pariah. My virus collection was taken away, and a padlock was put on one of the freezers in my lab.
Did you get your viruses back?
I didn't really want them back because they had left my control, and I couldn't vouch for their content. The one I work on now, dengue, is not infectious when it's aerosolized.
What happened when you submitted to the background check, in 2004?
I did the background check only to show that I was not afraid. I had to go to the local FBI office in downtown San Antonio, fill out some forms, then they fingerprinted me digitally. They said one [set] would remain on file with the police here in San Antonio and the other would be sent to FBI headquarters. I had to allow them access to my financial and health records. They can release any of this information they've collected to anyone they want to, without me knowing.
I did a poll of some of my colleagues at the American Society of Tropical Medicine and Hygiene. I got 53 responses from people who work with select agents, including toxins and bacteria. Half of them objected to the security risk assessment, but only two decided to stop working on these agents. The others said mostly that they had done it because they would lose their job otherwise. And many of these are military scientists to begin with.
Shouldn't you as a scientist submit to reasonable precautionary measures, if you have nothing to hide?
It's important to have some sense of whether we scientists pose a security risk. But the current regulations are burdensome, and I think they don't really address whether we might be dangerous to society.
What has this cost you?
Tremendous grief.

