Human Developmental Neurotoxicology

Human Developmental Neurotoxicology

edited by

David C. Bellinger Children’s Hospital Boston Harvard Medical School Harvard School of Public Health Boston, Massachusetts, U.S.A.

New York London

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Published in 2006 by Taylor & Francis Group 270 Madison Avenue New York, NY 10016 © 2006 by Taylor & Francis Group, LLC No claim to original U.S. Government works Printed in the United States of America on acid-free paper 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 International Standard Book Number-10: 0-8247-2988-9 (Hardcover) International Standard Book Number-13: 978-0-8247-2988-2 (Hardcover) Library of Congress Card Number 2005046676 This book contains information obtained from authentic and highly regarded sources. Reprinted material is quoted with permission, and sources are indicated. A wide variety of references are listed. Reasonable efforts have been made to publish reliable data and information, but the author and the publisher cannot assume responsibility for the validity of all materials or for the consequences of their use. No part of this book may be reprinted, reproduced, transmitted, or utilized in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying, microfilming, and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without written permission from the publishers. For permission to photocopy or use material electronically from this work, please access www.copyright.com (http://www.copyright.com/) or contact the Copyright Clearance Center, Inc. (CCC) 222 Rosewood Drive, Danvers, MA 01923, 978-750-8400. CCC is a not-for-profit organization that provides licenses and registration for a variety of users. For organizations that have been granted a photocopy license by the CCC, a separate system of payment has been arranged. Trademark Notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Human developmental neurotoxicity / edited by David C. Bellinger. p. ; cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN-13: 978-0-8247-2988-2 (alk. paper) ISBN-10: 0-8247-2988-9 (alk. paper) 1. Neurotoxicology. 2. Nervous system--Diseases. 3. Fetus--Diseases--Complications. 4. Infants (Newborn)--Effect of drugs on. 5. Neurotoxic agents. I. Bellinger, David. [DNLM: 1. Neurotoxicity Syndromes--etiology. 2. Child Development--drug effects. 3. Embryonic and Fetal Development--drug effects. WL 140 C63992 2006] RG627.C65 2006 618.3'2071--dc22

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Preface

Know anything? I don’t even suspect anything! —Yogi Berra, when, following a particularly dismal performance on a test, a teacher asked, “Yogi, don’t you know anything?” As we know, There are known knowns. There are things we know we know. We also know There are known unknowns. That is to say We know there are some things We do not know. But there are also unknown unknowns, The ones we don’t know We don’t know. —Donald H. Rumsfeld, U.S. Secretary of Defense, news briefing, Feb. 12, 2002

Those who investigate the impacts of chemical exposures on children’s neurodevelopment are not quite in the same dire epistemological straits as Yogi Berra. We at least suspect quite a lot of things. Rumsfeld’s musings, although resembling a Zen koan in their obtuseness, are, nevertheless, more apt. Some questions have answers that most (although rarely all) observers would endorse. For example, if asked, “Is children’s neurodevelopment adversely affected at levels of lead exposure that are not high enough to cause an overt encephalopathy?” most investigators would probably answer affirmatively. In Rumsfeld’s system for classifying knowledge, this would be a “known known.” An increase in the specificity with which a question is phrased will, however, often result in responses that are more variable, both in content and the respondent’s level of certainty, suggesting that the issue in question would be better classified as a “known unknown.” “What is the functional form of the dose-response relationship?”, “To what extent do the expressions of nervous system toxicity depend on the age at which exposure occurs?” and “What is the natural history of lead-associated neurodevelopmental deficits under different degrees of postnatal environmental enrichment?” are examples of such questions. And then there are the “unknown unknowns.” These bear on issues that we won’t even think to ask questions about until we learn enough to appreciate the existence of a mystery that, heretofore, lay unrecognized. These are not issues solely of academic interest. In the past two decades, children’s abilities to process information, to reason, to learn, and to achieve a positive psychosocial adjustment have emerged as critical endpoints in risk assessments of chemical exposures. It is recognized that children with even subtle impairments of these skills, who cannot function near the peak of their potential, will not fare as well as those who do in a technological marketplace that places high value on analytic and communication skills and the ability to adapt quickly and effectively to shifting demands and opportunities. It is iii

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no longer adequate to make public health decisions based on risk assessments that use as critical endpoints frank neurological disease or mental retardation (to say nothing of endpoints such as the LD50–the dose at which 50% of animals in the “exposed” group die). Exposure standards will be insufficiently protective if based on using approaches that do not acknowledge the potential importance, both to the individual and to society, of “sub-clinical” effects, that is adverse impacts that are not severe enough to meet diagnostic criteria for a disease or that do not correspond to a pattern that is sufficiently common to have been canonized as a “diagnosis.” The increasing recognition of “subtle” effects of neurotoxicant exposures and their acceptance as worthy of concern has resulted in a steady evolution over the past 30 years in the study methodologies applied in human developmental neurotoxicology studies. Case series describing the severe neurological deficits of children who developed Congenital Minamata Disease after prenatal exposure to methyl mercury or who presented with a fulminant lead encephalopathy were sufficient to convince us of the serious neurotoxicities caused by high dose exposure to these metals. Studies that were more analytic, using a case-control design, became necessary when the goal was to determine whether the prevalence of clinically-defined childhood morbidities, for example diagnoses such as learning disabilities or attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, differed between children who were considered “exposed” or “unexposed” to some chemical. The effect measures applied in case-control studies were typically the odds ratio and relative risk, expressing the extent to which the morbidity was more likely to be present among children in the “exposed’ than the “unexposed” group. When concern began to shift to possible subclinical impairments, it was necessary to mount cohort studies, in which participants were selected on the basis of exposure status rather than outcome status, and outcomes were often represented dimensionally rather than as diagnoses that were noted as being simply present or absent. Prospective studies were recognized as preferable to cross-sectional studies because they permitted an investigator to establish the temporal precedence of exposure vis a vis outcome, to characterize the natural history of exposure-outcome associations, and to identify age-dependent variations in susceptibility. In contrast to the odds ratio or relative risk statistics calculated in case-control studies, the effect measures calculated in cohort studies were more often the rate of change in the dimensional outcome per unit increase in an exposure index, providing new options for modeling dose-response and dose-effect relationships and developing points of departure for risk assessments. Other recent trends in the evolution of human developmental neurotoxicology research are notable. At the same time that the endpoints considered important to society were broadened to include sub-clinical as well as clinical impairments within a particular health domain, the range of health domains of interest as possible targets of neurotoxicant exposures has also broadened. For a variety of reasons, neurotoxicological studies traditionally focused on cognitive morbidities, defined rather narrowly and often consisting solely of IQ, as the critical endpoints. Beginning in the 1980s, however, attention was drawn in the general pediatric literature to what was called “the new morbidity,” referring to behavioral disorders and maladaptive psychosocial function. A concern with such disorders is increasingly reflected in neurotoxicological studies, with diagnoses such as juvenile delinquency, attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, and autism spectrum disorder serving as the endpoints of interest. Another trend is increasing sophistication of the methods used to address the critical issue of confounding bias by characterizing more accurately and comprehensively the panoply of factors that, apart from the chemical exposure of interest, can affect a child’s health. Determining how a chemical exposure fits into the complex web of influences on child development, its effects perhaps being exacerbated by some of these other influences and mitigated by others, also

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became an important part of the evaluation of study hypotheses. These trends resulted in studies that have become increasingly complex and multidisciplinary, requiring, at least, the collaboration of toxicologists, developmental psychologists, epidemiologists, biostatisticians, and analytical chemists. The contributions of psychiatrists, sociologists and cultural anthropologists will be increasingly important as the range of endpoints of interest continues to broaden and the child development models used to evaluate chemical effects become richer in depth and complexity. The purpose of this book is to describe the state-of-the-art in the design, conduct, and interpretation of human developmental neurotoxicology studies. Authors were asked to do more, however, than to describe current knowledge and methods in their fields of research. They were asked to address the question, “How can we do better?” and encouraged to identify the advances that need to be made in order to allow investigators to clarify the “known unknowns” and to identify the “unknown unknowns” that will be the foci of future research. Chapters in section one focus on specific environmental chemical exposures, including mercury, PCBs, lead, and solvents. Although the first three are among the chemicals that have been most intensively studied, many knowledge gaps remain, continuing to inspire debate and to render the risk assessment process contentious. Because of the current world-wide concern about mercury toxicity, two chapters are devoted to this metal. Although there is some overlap in the topics covered, the chapters provide complementary perspectives on the conduct and interpretation of mercury studies as well as on their public health implications. The chapters in section two focus on the developmental neurotoxicities associated with intentional exposures to chemicals or chemical mixtures. Some of these are medications administered therapeutically, such as anti-epileptic and chemotherapeutic drugs, while others are drugs used recreationally, including tobacco, alcohol, and cocaine. The potential adverse effects of exposures to recreational drugs generally receive much more attention than do the potential adverse effects of exposures to therapeutic drugs, perhaps due, at least in part, to differences in the risk-benefit calculus appropriate to these two classes of exposures. Exposure to therapeutic drugs occurs as a result of a decision that the avoidance of a health risk associated with a medical condition outweighs the risks associated with their use, which might be substantial (i.e., “side effects”). In contrast, use of recreational drugs, particularly during pregnancy, would not be expected to provide any health benefit to the fetus or child, which could make the risk of even subtle “side effects” on a child enough to tip the balance in favor of avoiding the exposure. Chapters in section three focus on critical issues in the assessment of exposure and outcome. Separate chapters focus on the special considerations germane to the assessment of exposures to accumulative chemicals, such as many metals, and to the assessment of exposures to chemicals with relatively short biological residence times, such as organophosphate pesticides. Another chapter focuses on special issues that pertain to characterizing voluntary exposures, such as marijuana and cocaine. The chapters focusing on outcome assessment address considerations in assembling, modifying, and validating a battery of tests, the emerging role for neuroimaging modalities in assessing neurotoxicity, and the special challenges faced in studying the contributions of childhood neurotoxicant exposures to the development of adult neurologic disease. Chapters in section four provide perspectives on several aspects of the analysis and interpretation of developmental neurotoxicity studies. These include the strategies used to identify potential confounding variables to include in regression models and the potential utility of analytic strategies such as structural equation modeling in characterizing the relationships among exposures, outcomes, confounders, and mediators. Another chapter

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shows how our understanding of exposure-outcome associations can be enriched by taking into account the broader social environment within a child that is developing and building multi-level models of complex inter-relationships. Two other chapters address issues pertaining to study interpretation, one focusing on how consideration of the experimental animal literature on a chemical’s developmental neurotoxicity can inform both the choice of methods used in human studies, and the inferences drawn about behavioral mechanisms and, ultimately, about causality. A chapter that focuses on the effects of chemical exposures on thyroid hormone signaling pathways illustrates the daunting distance we have to go to bridge the yawning chasm that separates the observations made in epidemiologic studies of developmental neurotoxicity and an understanding of the biological mechanisms generating those observations. The chapters in section five place the contributions of developmental neurotoxicity research in a broader context. Two chapters provide the perspectives of groups who could be characterized as “consumers” of such studies, namely those who use the data clinically to manage patients exposed to neurotoxic chemicals, and those who use the data as the basis for formulating public policy. They help us to understand ways in which this research can be designed, conducted, analyzed in ways that will make the data more useful to those who apply the findings. The final chapters alert us to the hazards that can arise in doing research that threatens industrial interests or that enriches investigators who place themselves in positions of conflict of interest. These caveats remind us of the quite profound effects that developmental neurotoxicity research have on people’s health and livelihoods, and the special responsibilities we assume in undertaking such work. David C. Bellinger

Contents Preface : : : : iii Contributors : : : : xv SECTION ONE: ENVIRONMENTAL CHEMICALS 1. Methylmercury: A Model Neurotoxicant and Risk Assessment Dilemma . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1 Bernard Weiss Mercury as an Environmental Poison : : : : 1 Anticipation of the Current Debate : : : : 3 Minamata and Iraq : : : : 3 The Current Scene : : : : 6 Other Complications : : : : 8 The Risk Equation and Effect Modification : : : : 9 Inorganic Mercury : : : : 11 Delayed Toxicity : : : : 13 Postnatal Exposures in Humans : : : : 16 Unresolved Issues : : : : 18 References : : : : 19 2. Developmental Neurotoxicity Associated with Dietary Exposure to Methylmercury from Seafood and Freshwater Fish . . . . . . . . . . 25 Philippe Grandjean, Sylvaine Cordier, and Tord Kjellstro¨m Introduction : : : : 25 Prospective Study Designs and Settings : : : : 26 Cross-Sectional Studies : : : : 29 Exposure Assessment : : : : 32 Outcome Variables : : : : 34 Confounding Variables : : : : 36 Public Health Relevance : : : : 38 References : : : : 40

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3. Effects of Developmental PCB Exposure on Neuropsychological Function in Epidemiological Studies: Issues and Research Needs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 43 Deborah C. Rice Identification of Types of Behavioral Deficits Produced by PCB Exposure : : : : 44 Choice of Congeners and Tissue Compartment as Determinants of Exposure : : : : 49 Determination of Effects of Multiple Chemicals in Addition to PCBs : : : : 51 Contribution of Postnatal Effects to Neurotoxicity : : : : 54 Determination of the Relationship between Exposure and Effect : : : : 57 Thyroid Hormones as a Potential Mediator of Neurotoxic Effects : : : : 58 Summary and Overall Conclusions : : : : 58 References : : : : 60 4. Lead Neurotoxicity in Children: Knowledge Gaps and Research Needs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 67 David C. Bellinger Introduction : : : : 67 Selection of Exposure Biomarkers and Sources of Misclassification Errors : : : : 68 Selection of Critical Outcomes : : : : 71 Functional Form of the Concentration–Response/ Concentration–Effect Relationship : : : : 73 Reversibility : : : : 74 Effect Modification : : : : 75 Conclusion : : : : 77 References : : : : 77 5. Effects of Organic Solvents on Reproductive Outcome and Offspring Development . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 83 Christine Till, Gideon Koren, and Joanne Rovet Basic Principles : : : : 83 Organic Solvents in the Central Nervous System : : : : 87 Fetal Vulnerability to Organic Solvents : : : : 88 Reproductive and Developmental Effects in Animals Following Prenatal Exposure to Organic Solvents : : : : 89 Reproductive and Developmental Effects Following Occupational Exposure to Organic Solvents : : : : 90 Organic Solvent Inhalant Abuse : : : : 96 Problems Studying Reproductive Hazards in Human Studies : : : : 97

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Summary and Recommendations : : : : 98 References : : : : 99 SECTION TWO: MEDICINAL AND RECREATIONAL SUBSTANCE USE 6. The Structural and Functional Teratology of Antiepileptic Medications . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 103 Jane Adams, Jennifer Anne Lantz Gavin, and Patricia A. Janulewicz Fundamentals of Teratology and Neurobehavioral Teratology : : : : 103 Research in the Early Years: The Role of Epilepsy as a Disease Contributing to Adverse Outcomes of Pregnancy : : : : 106 The Effects of Polytherapy Versus Monotherapy Treatments : : : : 107 The Teratogenic Effects of Monotherapy with Phenytoin, Phenobarbital, Carbamazepine, and Valproic Acid : : : : 116 Individualized Predictors of Susceptibility to Adverse Outcome that Can be Assessed During Pregnancy or at Birth : : : : 124 Future Research Needs : : : : 125 References : : : : 126 7. Chemotherapy Agents for Treatment of Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 131 Christine Mrakotsky and Deborah P. Waber Introduction : : : : 131 Pathophysiology and Prevalence of ALL : : : : 132 Evolution of Treatment Protocols : : : : 132 Chemotherapy Agents: Efficacy and Toxicity : : : : 133 Neuropsychological Sequelae of Treatment for ALL with Chemotherapy Only : : : : 135 Methodological Considerations, Limitations, Outstanding Issues and Data Needs : : : : 139 Conclusion : : : : 142 References : : : : 143 8. Prenatal Tobacco and Postnatal Environmental Tobacco Smoke Exposure and Children’s Cognitive and Behavioral Functioning . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Michael Weitzman, Todd A. Florin, and Megan Kavanaugh Introduction : : : : 149 Characteristics of Women Associated with Maternal Smoking : : : : 150 Potential Pathway for Adverse Effects : : : : 151

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Neurocognitive and Behavioral Outcomes Associated with Maternal Smoking : : : : 153 Research Implications : : : : 158 Summary : : : : 159 References : : : : 160 9. Lessons Learned: Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorders . . . . . . . . . . 169 Christie L. McGee, Susanna L. Fryer, and Sarah N. Mattson Introduction : : : : 169 Methodology : : : : 170 Review of Neuropsychological Literature : : : : 173 Long-Term Consequences : : : : 181 Conclusions : : : : 185 References : : : : 186 10. Neurodevelopmental Sequelae of Prenatal Cocaine Exposure . . . . 193 Linda C. Mayes and Marjukka Pajulo Models of Neurobehavioral Teratology : : : : 193 Prenatal Cocaine Exposure : : : : 197 Human Model of Prenatal Exposure : : : : 208 The Interaction of Prenatal Cocaine Exposure and a Drug-Dependent Environment : : : : 211 Summary : : : : 216 References : : : : 218 SECTION THREE: EXPOSURE AND OUTCOME ASSESSMENTS 11. Immutable Elements—Variable Effects: Exposure Assessment for Neurotoxic Metals . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 231 Alan H. Stern Introduction : : : : 231 General Considerations for Metals : : : : 231 General Approaches to Exposure Assessment for Developmental Neurotoxic Metals : : : : 233 Application of Pharmacokinetic Models : : : : 237 Mercury as a Case Study : : : : 239 References : : : : 248 12. Studying the Relation Between Pesticide Exposure and Human Development . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 253 Dana B. Barr, Asa Bradman, Natalie Freeman, Robin M. Whyatt, Richard Y. Wang, Luke Naeher, and Brenda Eskenazi Introduction : : : : 253 Toxicology : : : : 256 Human Studies on the Neurotoxic Effects of Pesticides in Children : : : : 258

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Factors Affecting Fetal, Infant, and Early Childhood Exposure : : : : 266 Assessing Exposure to Neurotoxic Pesticides : : : : 269 Recommendations for Future Studies : : : : 275 References : : : : 276 13. Assessing In Utero Exposure to Cannabis and Cocaine . . . . . . . . 287 Gale A. Richardson, Marilyn A. Huestis, and Nancy L. Day Introduction : : : : 287 Prevalence : : : : 287 Self-Report Methods : : : : 288 Biological Measures : : : : 291 Comparisons of Self-Report and Biological Markers : : : : 296 Conclusions and Recommendations : : : : 297 References : : : : 298 14. Neurobehavioral Test Batteries for Children Diane S. Rohlman and W. Kent Anger Identifying the Problem : : : : 303 Planning the Research Study : : : : 304 Methods Development : : : : 309 Quality Control : : : : 311 An Example: Developing a Test Battery for Preschool Children : : : : 312 Analyzing the Results : : : : 315 Conclusions : : : : 316 References : : : : 316

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 303

15. Role of Neuroimaging . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 321 Patricia A. Janulewicz, Roberta F. White, and Carole Palumbo Neuroimaging Techniques : : : : 322 Imaging in Developmental Neurotoxicology Research : : : : 325 Faroese Imaging Study : : : : 327 Discussion : : : : 332 References : : : : 332 16. Early Life Environmental Exposures and Neurologic Outcomes in Adults . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 341 Marc G. Weisskopf, Robert O. Wright, and Howard Hu Introduction : : : : 341 Critical Periods in Brain Development : : : : 342 Are Early Life Exposures Related to Adult Neurologic Outcomes? : : : : 344 Difficulties in Studying the Effect of Early Life Exposures on Adult Neurologic Outcomes : : : : 347 How Can the Effect of Early Life Exposures on Adult Neurologic Outcomes Best be Studied? : : : : 351

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Summary : : : : 353 References : : : : 353 SECTION FOUR: ANALYSIS AND INTERPRETATION 17. The Critical Concept of Control in Human Neurobehavioral Toxicology Studies: We Can, and Must, Do Better . . . . . . . . . . . . 361 Paul Stewart Introduction : : : : 361 Additional (Theoretical) Criteria for Covariates : : : : 372 References : : : : 376 18. Environmental Risk Assessment with Structural Equation Models . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 379 Esben Budtz-Jørgensen Summary : : : : 379 Introduction : : : : 379 The Faroese Mercury Study : : : : 380 The Standard Approach to Effect Estimation : : : : 381 Structural Equation Models : : : : 382 Estimation of Exposure Measurement Error : : : : 383 Effect Estimation in Structural Equation Models : : : : 385 The Benchmark Approach to Setting Safety Standards : : : : 387 Standard Application of the Benchmark Approach : : : : 388 Sophisticated Benchmark Analysis : : : : 389 Discussion : : : : 390 References : : : : 391 19. Incorporating the Social-Ecological Perspective into Studies of Developmental Neurotoxicity . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 393 Virgina A. Rauh, Frederica Perera, and Jennifer F. Culhane Introduction : : : : 393 The Confluence of Social and Chemical Risks : : : : 394 Interactions Between Social and Chemical Risks : : : : 402 References : : : : 407 20. Assessing the Neurobehavioral Effects of Early Toxicant Exposure: A Perspective from Animal Research . . . . . . . . . . . . . 415 Barbara J. Strupp and Stephane A. Beaudin Introduction : : : : 415 Considerations in Task Selection and Design : : : : 416 Some Cautionary Notes : : : : 433 Summary : : : : 436 References : : : : 438

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21. The Developmental Neurotoxicology of Chemicals Disrupting Thyroid Hormone Signaling . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 447 R. Thomas Zoeller The EDSTAC Final Recommendation for Screening Anti-thyroid Activities : : : : 447 The HPT Negative Feedback System : : : : 449 Mechanism of Thyroid Hormone Action : : : : 449 Thyroid Hormone Exerts Time- and Dose-Dependent Effects on Brain Development : : : : 451 Polychlorinated Biphenyls (PCBs) : : : : 452 Conclusion : : : : 454 References : : : : 455

SECTION FIVE: DEVELOPMENTAL NEUROTOXICITY: CLINICAL PRACTICE, RISK ASSESSMENT ETHICS 22. Public Health Perspectives on Developmental Neurotoxicology . . 463 Jennifer S. Mammen and Lynn R. Goldman Public Health Burden of Developmental Disabilities/Learning Disabilities in Children : : : : 463 Assessment of Risk of Potential Developmental Neurotoxic Agents : : : : 464 Tracking Developmental Disabilities : : : : 476 Policy Issues : : : : 476 Conclusions : : : : 479 References : : : : 479 23. Research to Clinical Practice: A Pediatric Environmental Health Perspective . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 483 April A. Harper and Michael W. Shannon Introduction : : : : 483 The Role of Scientific Research in Clinical Practice : : : : 484 Specific Research Needs : : : : 485 Conclusion : : : : 493 References : : : : 494 24. Evaluating Neurotoxic Effects: Epidemiological, Epistemic, and Economic Issues . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 499 Herbert L. Needleman Introduction : : : : 499 The Growth of Understanding of Childhood Lead Toxicity : : : : 500 The Conundrum of Causality : : : : 500 Science, Universities, and the Market Place : : : : 504 Summary : : : : 506 References : : : : 506

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25. Knowledge, Norms, and the Politics of Risk: Ethical Issues in Policy-Relevant Science . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 509 Virginia Ashby Sharpe Introduction : : : : 509 The Normative Context of Policy-Relevant Science : : : : 510 New Mandates in Policy-Relevant Science : : : : 514 Corporate Construction of Risk and Conflicts of Interest : : : : 516 Conflict-of-Interest Disclosure and the Right-to-Know : : : : 517 Community-Based Research : : : : 519 Conclusion : : : : 520 References : : : : 521 Index : : : : 525

Contributors

Jane Adams Department of Psychology, University of Massachusetts Boston, Boston, Massachusetts, U.S.A. W. Kent Anger Center for Research on Occupational and Environmental Toxicology, Oregon Health and Science University, Portland, Oregon, U.S.A. Dana B. Barr National Center for Environmental Health, Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, Atlanta, Georgia, U.S.A. Stephane A. Beaudin New York, U.S.A.

Division of Nutritional Sciences, Cornell University, Ithaca,

David C. Bellinger Department of Neurology, Children’s Hospital Boston, Harvard Medical School and Department of Environmental Health, Harvard School of Public Health, Boston, Massachusetts, U.S.A. Asa Bradman Center for Children’s Environmental Health, School of Public Health, University of California, Berkeley, California, U.S.A. Esben Budtz-Jørgensen Department of Biostatistics, University of Copenhagen, Copenhagen and Institute of Public Health, University of Southern Denmark, Odense, Denmark and Department of Biostatistics, Harvard School of Public Health, Boston, Massachusetts, U.S.A. Sylvaine Cordier Rennes, France

National Institute for Health and Medical Research (INSERM),

Jennifer F. Culhane Department of Obstetrics and Gynecology, Drexel University College of Medicine, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, U.S.A. Nancy L. Day Department of Psychiatry, University of Pittsburgh School of Medicine, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, U.S.A. Brenda Eskenazi Center for Children’s Environmental Health, School of Public Health, University of California, Berkeley, California, U.S.A. xv

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Todd A. Florin American Academy of Pediatrics, Center for Child Health Research and Department of Pediatrics, The University of Rochester School of Medicine and Dentistry, Rochester and Department of Pediatrics, New York University School of Medicine, New York, New York, U.S.A. Natalie Freeman Center for Environmental and Human Toxicology, College of Veterinary Medicine and College of Public Health and Health Professions, University of Florida, Gainesville, Florida, U.S.A. Susanna L. Fryer Center for Behavioral Teratology, Department of Psychology, San Diego State University, San Diego, California, U.S.A. Jennifer Anne Lantz Gavin Department of Psychology, University of Massachusetts Boston, Boston, Massachusetts, U.S.A. Lynn R. Goldman Environmental Health Sciences, Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health, Baltimore, Maryland, U.S.A. Philippe Grandjean Department of Environmental Medicine, University of Southern Denmark, Odense, Denmark and Department of Environmental Health, Harvard School of Public Health, Boston, Massachusetts, U.S.A. April A. Harper Division of General Pediatrics, Children’s Hospital Boston, Harvard Medical School, Boston, Massachusetts, U.S.A. Howard Hu Department of Environmental Health, Harvard School of Public Health and The Channing Laboratory, Brigham and Women’s Hospital, Harvard Medical School, Boston, Massachusetts, U.S.A. Marilyn A. Huestis Chemistry and Drug Metabolism, Intramural Research Program, National Institute on Drug Abuse, National Institutes of Health, Baltimore, Maryland, U.S.A. Patricia A. Janulewicz Department of Environmental Health, Boston University School of Public Health and Department of Psychology, University of Massachusetts, Boston, Massachusetts, U.S.A. Megan Kavanaugh American Academy of Pediatrics, Center for Child Health Research and Department of Pediatrics, The University of Rochester School of Medicine and Dentistry, Rochester and Department of Pediatrics, New York University School of Medicine, New York, New York, U.S.A. Tord Kjellstro¨m National Institute of Public Health, Stockholm, Sweden and Australian National University, Canberra, Australian Capital Territory, Australia and Wellington School of Medicine and Health Sciences, Wellington, New Zealand Gideon Koren Division of Clinical Pharmacology and Toxicology, The Hospital for Sick Children, Toronto, Ontario, Canada

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Jennifer S. Mammen Environmental Health Sciences, Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine, Baltimore, Maryland, U.S.A. Sarah N. Mattson Center for Behavioral Teratology, Department of Psychology, San Diego State University, San Diego, California, U.S.A. Linda C. Mayes

Yale Child Study Center, New Haven, Connecticut, U.S.A.

Christie L. McGee Center for Behavioral Teratology, Department of Psychology, San Diego State University, San Diego, California, U.S.A. Christine Mrakotsky Department of Psychiatry, Children’s Hospital Boston, Harvard Medical School, Boston, Massachusetts, U.S.A. Luke Naeher U.S.A.

College of Public Health, University of Georgia, Athens, Georgia,

Herbert L. Needleman Department of Psychiatry, School of Medicine, University of Pittsburgh, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, U.S.A. Marjukka Pajulo Department of Child Psychiatry, University of Tampere, Tampere, Finland and Yale Child Study Center, New Haven, Connecticut, U.S.A. Carole Palumbo Department of Neurology, Boston University School of Medicine, Aphasia Research Center, VA Boston Healthcare System, Boston, Massachusetts, U.S.A. Frederica Perera Department of Environmental Health Sciences, Mailman School of Public Health, Columbia University, New York, New York, U.S.A. Virginia A. Rauh Heilbrum Department for Population and Family Health, Mailman School of Public Health, Columbia University, New York, New York, U.S.A. Deborah C. Rice Environmental and Occupational Health Program, Maine Center for Disease Control and Prevention, Augusta and Center for Integrative and Applied Toxicology, University of Southern Maine, Portland, Maine, U.S.A. Gale A. Richardson Department of Psychiatry, University of Pittsburgh School of Medicine, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, U.S.A. Diane S. Rohlman Center for Research on Occupational and Environmental Toxicology, Oregon Health and Science University, Portland, Oregon, U.S.A. Joanne Rovet Ontario, Canada

Department of Pediatrics, The Hospital for Sick Children, Toronto,

Michael W. Shannon Division of Emergency Medicine, Children’s Hospital Boston, Harvard Medical School, Boston, Massachusetts, U.S.A. Virginia Ashby Sharpe Center for Clinical Bioethics, Georgetown University Medical Center, Washington, D.C., U.S.A.

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Contributors

Alan H. Stern Division of Environmental and Occupational Health, University of Medicine and Dentistry of New Jersey, School of Public Health, Piscataway, New Jersey, U.S.A. Paul Stewart Department of Psychology, State University of New York at Oswego, Oswego, New York, U.S.A. Barbara J. Strupp Division of Nutritional Sciences and Department of Psychology, Cornell University, Ithaca, New York, U.S.A. Christine Till

Toronto Rehabilitation Institute, Toronto, Ontario, Canada

Deborah P. Waber Department of Psychiatry, Children’s Hospital Boston, Harvard Medical School, Boston, Massachusetts, U.S.A. Richard Y. Wang National Center for Environmental Health, Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, Atlanta, Georgia, U.S.A. Bernard Weiss Department of Environmental Medicine, University of Rochester, School of Medicine and Dentistry, Rochester, New York, U.S.A. Marc G. Weisskopf Department of Environmental Health, Harvard School of Public Health, Boston, Massachusetts, U.S.A. Michael Weitzman American Academy of Pediatrics, Center for Child Health Research and Department of Pediatrics, The University of Rochester School of Medicine and Dentistry, Rochester and Department of Pediatrics, New York University School of Medicine, New York, New York, U.S.A. Roberta F. White Department of Environmental Health, Boston University School of Public Health, Boston, Massachusetts, U.S.A. Robin M. Whyatt Department of Environmental Health Sciences, Mailman School of Public Health, Columbia University, New York, New York, U.S.A. Robert O. Wright Department of Pediatrics, Children’s Hospital and The Channing Laboratory, Brigham and Women’s Hospital, Harvard Medical School and Department of Environmental Health, Harvard School of Public Health, Boston, Massachusetts, U.S.A. R. Thomas Zoeller Biology Department, University of Massachusetts-Amherst, Amherst, Massachusetts, U.S.A.

SECTION ONE: ENVIRONMENTAL CHEMICALS

1

Methylmercury: A Model Neurotoxicant and Risk Assessment Dilemma Bernard Weiss Department of Environmental Medicine, University of Rochester, School of Medicine and Dentistry, Rochester, New York, U.S.A.

MERCURY AS AN ENVIRONMENTAL POISON The New York Times of August 26, 1991, carried a headline on its first page that reverberates with debates that are even more strident today: “Despite Era of Concern for the Earth, Mercury is Re-emerging as a Peril.” It pointed to the deepening concern over contamination by mercury of aquatic life and how it had aroused governmental agencies charged with environmental protection and public health to take preventive and regulatory action. It described the origins of the catastrophe in Minamata, Japan, a fishing village whose inhabitants suffered an epidemic of methylmercury poisoning from contaminated fish. It told of the conflicts faced by sport and subsistence fishermen about the safety of consuming their catch, and of the confusion and wariness on the part of fish consumers. The intensity of the debate has not waned. Instead, it has even widened in scope to include forms of mercury other than the methyl form found in aquatic species. It now includes the vaccine preservative Thimerosal, indicted as a risk factor for autism because it is 50% ethylmercury which, like methylmercury, is a potent neurotoxicant. It also includes dental amalgams, an argument carried on for 150 years but becoming more forceful because of the availability of alternatives. Advocacy groups and individuals have raised alarms because chewing releases mercury vapor from fillings that then is inhaled. Why is mercury the focus of such intense discussion at this time? It is not just the evidence of its potency as a toxicant, which Hunter (1), in his treatise on occupational medicine, described in his review of the “ancient metals.” It more likely is a symptom of our distrust of the information made available to us in the realm of food and chemical safety. We have been deceived or misled about chemical hazards on so many occasions at the same time we’ve received reassurances that our concerns are unfounded that we raise a shield of skepticism. We often have seen how commercial or political interests distort the truth, and have witnessed so many disastrous episodes that it requires a suspension of hardened cynicism to believe in reassurances. Methylmercury is the principal subject addressed here, but in the environment it is entangled with other forms of mercury and other neurotoxic entities. Of all mercury species, methylmercury, however, is the one with the broadest implications for public 1

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health. It is found primarily in a major food source, fish, so it affects populations worldwide. It became a model for behavioral teratology as a definitive example of an environmental neurotoxicant, and it contains lessons useful to the study of other agents with the potential to interfere with neurobehavioral development (2). Methylmercury also illustrates the problems posed to regulatory agencies and their need to translate into exposure standards questions such as the shape of dose-response functions and the inherent limitations of epidemiology. In most instances, the translation is a challenge because most of the toxicity information takes the form of high-dose experiments in animals and, except for mass poisonings, low-level environmental exposures in humans, requiring a succession of tentative extrapolations to harmonize these disparities. Like other agents discussed in this volume, methylmercury exemplifies how an appropriate definition of low-level exposure is a constantly moving target. From some perspectives, discussions of neurotoxicity attributable to environmental chemicals involve a marginal problem compared, say, to the serious disabilities of the fetal alcohol syndrome (FAS). Comparability is not the issue, however. Even FAS can be seen as a minor problem compared to the lives erased by guns, child abuse, and auto accidents. It is the inexorable accumulation of many different risks that is so appalling. Exposure to environmental toxicants, although incurring far less dramatic effects than FAS, is more widely distributed in the population, and their effects, because they are so insidious, are easily overlooked. A small effect on IQ, such as an effect size of 0.33 (one-fifth of a standard deviation or 3 IQ points, producing a mean score of 97 rather than 100) assigns 3.2% of the population to the category “retarded” rather than 2.3%. Figure 1 depicts such a condition. It is the kind of situation that animates how we view the neurobehavioral risks of lead and PCBs as well. That is, their adverse effects are

Proportion

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Figure 1 Upper chart shows an IQ distribution with a mean of 100 and SD of 15. The dark area represents the 2.3% of the population below 70. The light area represents those with IQs below 100 and above 70. The lower chart depicts an IQ distribution with a mean of 97. Here, 3.2% of the population falls below 70. IQ of 100 is shown on both charts as the vertical line.

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expressed primarily as shifts in the distribution of population scores rather than, as with clinical assessments, deficits in individuals. This is the core issue for methylmercury, too.

ANTICIPATION OF THE CURRENT DEBATE In 1968, we held the first of over 20 Rochester Conferences on Environmental Toxicity (3). By that time, Swedish scientists had alerted the world that the catastrophe of methylmercury poisoning at Minamata, Japan, represented not a local problem but rather one with global dimensions. They had demonstrated that environmental discharges of all forms of mercury (metallic, inorganic divalent, phenylmercury) can all be converted by natural processes in aquatic settings to the highly toxic methylmercury form (4). They had been alerted to the existence of a methylmercury problem in Sweden’s waters by a decline in sea bird populations, in species such as ospreys, that depended on fish for sustenance. Their findings recapitulated the questions that had been posed by Rachel Carson (5) about pesticides when she observed diminished bird populations. By analyzing the mercury content of bird feathers in museums and comparing them to contemporary levels, they demonstrated the sharp rises coincident with the introduction of organic mercury fungicides into Swedish agriculture. (Feathers, like growing hair, reflect methylmercury concentrations in the blood). They also showed how the process of bioconcentration could magnify toxic exposures: pike in Swedish waterways bore flesh levels of methylmercury as much as 3000 times greater than the ambient water concentration due to increases at successive trophic levels as predators consumed contaminated prey. At the 1968 meeting, Robert Risebrough, of the University of California, Berkeley, asked the following question: Why should mercury be a problem in the northern countries rather than in the more temperate areas?

Fredrik Berglund of the National Institute of Public Health, Sweden, replied: I think one reason that this problem does not exist in the United States with mercury is that the levels are not known.I feel, personally, that the problem also exists here as it does in other parts of the world but it is not recognized.

Recognition soon came, with the discovery, in 1970, of methylmercury contamination in the Great Lakes, stemming mainly from the discharge of metallic mercury by chlor-alkali plants. These plants use large pools of liquid mercury as electrodes to convert brine into chlorine and sodium hydroxide. The current methylmercury agenda, with its emphasis on prenatal exposure, was set the following year with a mass chemical poisoning in Iraq (6). This history parallels the concurrent development of neurobehavioral toxicology as a science.

MINAMATA AND IRAQ Two mass chemical disasters awakened us to the threats posed to developing brains by methylmercury. One occurred in Japan, the other in Iraq. Progessive stages in the evolution of neurobehavioral toxicology can be traced by how those two mass poisonings helped spawn a discipline that pulled toxicology from its traditional reliance on lethality and pathology towards criteria such as IQ scores and performance on behavioral tests.

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What the Japanese later called Minamata Disease arose from methylmercury contamination of Minamata Bay, which adjoins a fishing village in the southernmost Japanese island of Kyushu. A change in catalyst use in the production of acetaldehyde by the Chisso factory on the shores of the bay resulted in the discharge of mercury into the bay, where it contaminated the fish and shellfish consumed by the villagers, especially fishermen and their families. The tragedy of Minamata has been told many times and in many ways, but perhaps none as effectively as in the photo essay by Eugene and Aileen Smith (7). It depicted with one unnerving episode the price Japan had paid for industrialization carried out with little concern for its environmental consequences. Minamata disease, after a lengthy period of puzzlement about its etiology, was eventually discovered to be due to methylmercury exposure. Its signs, in adults, had been known for decades because of accidents. They are listed in Table 1. The victims of that tragedy extend beyond the group whose manifestations were easily identified. A much larger group most surely bears scars that are not as easily or directly ascribed to methylmercury because their legacy came in the form of functional deficits that required close study with appropriate tests and comparisons at a time when quantitative measures of exposure were not available. The drama of that episode, however, has tended to blur an important environmental lesson. Like some other environmental contaminants, methylmercury delivered its toxicological message insidiously. Figure 2 charts the rising incidence of Minamata Disease over a three-years period. Cases appeared sporadically. Dr. Hajime Hosokawa, a physician employed by Chisso, courageously proposed that a link existed between the factory and the continuing appearance of cases. His hypothesis was dismissed by Chisso management, but he based his argument on an almost intuitive epidemiology and, perhaps, drew from a famous experiment with cats described by Eto et al. (8). By 1958, almost no cat could be found in the Minamata district. Even as far back as 1952, they had begun to display convulsions, ataxia, and what the inhabitants termed “dancing disease.” Because of this history, a cat experiment was designed to test the conclusion, declared by a study group from Kumamoto University, that organic mercury was responsible for the outbreak. Ten cats were fed food mixed with industrial waste produced in the Chisso plant. The results were not made public, but Eto et al. (8) found the specimens and conducted pathological and chemical assays. Typical lesions of methylmercury poisoning were observed in the central nervous system tissue, and were associated with markedly elevated mercury levels (9). Table 1

Signs and Symptoms of Methylmercury Poisoning in Adults

Sensory Paresthesia (numbness and tingling) Pain in limbs Visual disturbances (field constriction) Hearing disturbances Asterognosis (discrimination by touch) Motor Disturbances of gait Weakness, leg unsteadiness, falling Thick, slurred speed (dysarthria) Tremor Other Headaches, rashes, “mental disturbance”

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Onset of Minamata Disease by Month 60 Number of Cases

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"Mystery Dlsease" report by Dr. Hosokawa

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Figure 2 Accumulation of cases of Minamata disease between December 1953 and December 1956.

Figure 2 reflects a property of methylmercury toxicity that helped obscure the connection between fish and shellfish consumption and Minamata disease: the period of silent toxicity between exposure and onset of effect. Although 95% of ingested methylmercury is absorbed, delayed toxicity, or displacement in time between exposure and its consequences, makes it difficult to discern a relationship, a gap that can deceive investigators about etiology or lead to disasters that could have been averted or diminished if acted on earlier. This property of methylmercury is discussed later. Minamata also provided the first suggestions of fetal vulnerability. Pregnant women who evinced no signs of poisoning themselves gave birth to offspring with severe neurological deficits who later received the diagnosis of Fetal or Congenital Minamata Disease. These prenatally-exposed children were characterized by severe neurological impairments that included ataxia, neuromotor disability, seizures, hearing loss, microcephaly and cognitive impairment (10). Some of these individuals, now in their 50s, are maintained in a special unit attached to the Minamata Disease Research Institute, which was formed and is supported by the Japanese government. In a bizarre repetition of Minamata about 10 years later, another Japanese town, Niigata, also experienced an epidemic of methylmercury poisoning (11). Again, it arose from a factory that manufactured acetaldehyde and that, in the process, discharged inorganic and methylmercury into a waterway, in this instance, the Agano river. The authors report that 690 adults have been certified as victims of methylmercury poisoning. They also report that even many of those exposed prenatally, whose mothers’ hair levels may have exceeded 50 ppm, a level now considered excessive, show little evidence of adverse effects. These measurements have not been verified by current analytical methods, however. The second mass poisoning, and the one best documented, occurred in Iraq in the winter of 1971–72. A severe drought in the summer of 1971 impelled the Iraqi government to purchase 80,000 tons of seed wheat for planting in 1972. It also requested that the wheat be treated with a methylmercury fungicide, a request made in error. Hungry farmers in rural Iraq, rather than planting the wheat, baked it into bread. During a three-month period that winter, as many as 5000 victims may have died with as many as 50,000 suffering severe illness.

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Because Thomas W. Clarkson at the University of Rochester had recently reported on a sulfhydryl-binding resin that accelerated the clearance of methylmercury from the body, he was contacted by the Iraqi Ministry of Health to secure the resin. The ultimate outcome of that request was establishment of a laboratory in Baghdad and a survey of the exposed population in the countryside (12). It led to the use of hair as a biomarker of exposure history and, of supreme importance, a clear demonstration of the exquisite sensitivity of the fetal brain. Children whose mothers had been pregnant during the outbreak were examined at about 30 months of age to assess developmental milestones such as walking, a difficult task because of undocumented birth dates coupled with the need to conduct examinations in the field. Nevertheless, those data suggested that maternal body burdens in the range of those seen in fish-consuming populations might pose a risk to neurobehavioral development (13) and eventually stimulated several prospective studies in such populations. Interpretation of the results of those studies provides the basis for the current debates about the neurodevelopmental risks of methylmercury. Minamata and Iraq aroused enormous anxieties about their implications for child development (14). Both episodes identified the human fetal brain as the most vulnerable target of methylmercury neurotoxicity, an expectation confirmed by studies in animal models (15,16). Such models have provided the main basis for exploring the mechanisms underlying the pathological features observed in human brains. These were described by Choi et al. (17), who examined the brains of two full term newborn human infants in Iraq who were exposed to methylmercury early in pregnancy due to maternal ingestion of methylmercury–contaminated bread. The brains contained high levels of mercury. Disturbed development was marked by incomplete or abnormal migration of neurons to the cerebellar and cerebral cortices, and deranged cortical organization. Numerous heterotopic neurons were seen in the white matter of cerebrum and cerebellum. The characteristic laminar pattern of the cerebral cortex was distorted in many regions. Such a pattern of damage is unlike the focal neuronal damage observed in poisoned adults and children exposed postnatally. Studies in mice by Sager et al. (18) and Rodier et al. (19) indicate that mitosis is blocked by methylmercury exposure during metaphase. The mechanism appears to be disruption of microtubules in the mitotic spindle. Mitotic arrest can prove devastating to the developing brain, especially before birth, when the bulk of neurons are formed. Choi (20), also in mice, noted abnormal patterns of neuronal migration and cortical cytoarchitecture, another feature of methylmercury neuropathology.

THE CURRENT SCENE In practice, the only source of methylmercury exposure is food from aquatic and marine environments. Because these represent crucial food sources, and a dominant one for protein in some populations, methylmercury ascended to a problem of global dimensions. Although several smaller epidemiological studies have been undertaken (21–27), two large, longitudinal cohort studies occupy the center of the risk debate. One, undertaken by investigators from the University of Rochester, was situated in the Republic of the Seychelles, an island group in the Indian Ocean. Another, conducted by investigators from the University of Southern Denmark, in Odense, was situated in the Faroe Islands in the North Atlantic. Both research groups chose to study the relationship between prenatal exposure to methylmercury and a variety of neurodevelopmental measures. In the Seychelles project, methylmercury concentration in maternal hair was chosen as the biomarker, a choice

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governed by data demonstrating a close correlation between blood levels and levels in growing hair and by ease of storage for transportation and later assays. Because scalp hair grows about 1.1 cm per month, a 12 cm hair strand can recapitulate a one-year exposure history, a vital factor in tracing the outbreak of poisoning in Iraq (6). McDowell et al. (28) point out another advantage of hair assays; namely, because they are noninvasive, they elicit much better response rates from population subgroups such as children that usually resist blood sampling. The hair:blood ratio roughly averages 250:1, but with substantial variation (29,30) and higher ratios in children. The question of how hair levels relate to brain levels will be discussed later. Based on the autopsy material from the Seychelles (31), maternal hair and infant brain levels are closely correlated. The Faroes investigators selected cord blood, which reflects exposure during the later stages of pregnancy, as their main index of exposure, but additional analyses showed a high correlation with hair levels. Maternal hair levels averaged 6.9 ppm in the Seychelles and 4.27 in the Faroes. In the U.S., recent NHANES data showed a geometric mean of 0.12 ppm in children, and 0.20 ppm in women (32). Frequent fish consumers, compared with non-consumers, showed geometric mean hair mercury levels for women of 0.38 versus 0.11 ppm and levels for children of 0.16 versus 0.08 ppm. In the Seychelles, mothers reported eating a mean of 12 fish meals weekly. In the Faroes, adults reported mean daily consumption of 72 grams of fish, 12 grams of whale muscle, and 7 grams of whale blubber. The differences in consumption patterns are significant; the methylmercury source in the Seychelles is ocean fish, while in the Faroes it is primarily pilot whales. The differences create an interpretive dilemma, as discussed later, because these whales are heavily contaminated with other neurotoxicants such as PCBs and a variety of other organohalogens. The Seychelles cohort, consisting of 779 mother-infant pairs enrolled in 1989–1990, has so far been assessed at 6.5, 19, 29, 66, and 107 months of age by a variety of neuropsychological tests appropriate for the cohort’s stage of development (33). For example, at 19 months of age, the main assay consisted of the Bayley Scales of Infant Development. At 107 months of age, the investigators were able to deploy a broad variety of instruments ranging from those assessing motor function (e.g., grooved pegboard) to those assessing cognitive function (e.g., Boston Naming Test) to those assessing conduct (e.g., Child Behavior Checklist). From all of these assessments, based on multiple regression analyses that included potential confounders, only a handful of scattered endpoints revealed any correlation with mercury exposure indices. And, of these, some showed a positive relationship between exposure level and performance, but the relationship depended on age. The Faroes cohort was also assessed with a battery of tests that included neurophysiological (e.g., visual and auditory evoked potentials) as well as neuropsychological (e.g., motor function, cognitive function, subjective state) instruments. The study was initiated with the collection of maternal hair and cord blood levels from 1022 singleton births. At about 7 years of age, 917 of the children were recruited to undergo testing (34). Multiple regression analyses, adjusted for confounders, comprised the main statistical technique. Neither the neurophysiological endpoints nor clinical examinations showed a relationship with methylmercury exposure. In contrast to the Seychelles results, analyses of the neuropsychological indices demonstrated significant negative associations with prenatal methylmercury measures in all five domains chosen for assessment: motor, attention, visuospatial, language, and memory. The different conclusions derived from the Seychelles and Faroes studies remain puzzling but, also, contentious. A National Academy of Sciences committee, charged with

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establishing a risk assessment of methylmercury in seafood, chose the Faroes data as its basis because it offered a clear outcome (35). Specifically, it relied upon the Boston Naming Test as the index measure. It then applied Benchmark Dose (BMD) modeling to derive an exposure level associated with a specified risk value. For such calculations, a Benchmark Response (BMR) is chosen; for example, a value of 5%, which means an increased risk of an abnormal response of 5%. A BMD is then calculated by fitting a mathematical model to the dose-response function, and, on the basis of that function, deriving the dose of the agent that would be predicted to produce, for a BMR of 5%, an excess risk of that magnitude. Because of statistical uncertainty about the central estimate BMD, a lower 95% confidence limit (BMDL) for the BMD is also computed. The committee determined a BMDL of 58 ppb in cord blood (equal approximately to 12 ppm in hair) as the appropriate exposure level from which to derive risk values. The value of 58 ppb was extrapolated to an equivalent intake of 1.1 mg/kg of methylmercury per day. In setting exposure standards, it is common to divide a value such as the BMDL by one or more uncertainty factors to provide a margin of protection. Dividing that value by uncertainty factors summing to about 10 yields a Reference Dose (RfD) (equivalent to an acceptable daily intake) of 0.1 mg/kg per day. The EPA defines a RfD as an exposure level that is without adverse effects over a 70 years lifespan. This RfD translates into a weekly consumption of one 198 g (7 oz) can of tuna for an adult. BMD models have also been applied to the Seychelles data set (36). As the authors note, such models can prove useful even when a statistically significant dose-related trend is absent. On the basis of an increase of 0.1 in the probability of an adverse response (the BMR), maternal hair BMDLs calculated from the Seychelles data ranged from about 19 to about 30 ppm. These values are not markedly different from the Faroes BMDL, nor from BMDLs based upon a New Zealand cohort (23,24) or the data from Iraq (37). The Faroes BMDL values can roughly be translated into brain levels. In nonhuman primates, the blood-brain ratio is approximately 3–10:1 (38–41). In the Seychelles cohort, comparing maternal blood with infant brains secured at autopsy yielded ratios between 5.1 and 6.7 (31). Based on these values, we would expect brain levels at the BMDL to roughly approximate 300 ppb. Infant brains from the Seychelles were examined by Lapham et al. (42). They found no evidence of neuropathology, assessed by criteria similar to those of Choi et al. (17); these brains all exhibited levels of mercury less than 300 ppb, however, while discernible anatomical abnormalities (by conventional pathological techniques) are seen in experimental animals at levels of 1000 ppb and above (43).

OTHER COMPLICATIONS The underlying question for the risk assessment of methylmercury is converting exposure magnitude into risk, which is then translated into the form of the dose-response function. Response takes the form of scores on one or more neuropsychological tests. Dose takes the form of methylmercury in blood or hair. Methylmercury is a biomarker of seafood consumption. (The term seafood is used generically to refer to fish, crustaceans, sea mammals, and other forms of aquatic life eaten by humans and coming from both marine and freshwater sources). In general, those who consume more of these foods exhibit higher levels of methylmercury. Investigators pursuing the question of methylmercury risks, like toxicologists in general, traditionally assume a monotonic dose-response function; that is, that higher exposure levels correspond to greater adverse effects. The dose-response relationship for any particular agent and endpoint may assume a different shape due either

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to the nature of the biological response or because of interactions or confounding with other factors (cf., 44). Instead, it might assume a U-shaped function, as suggested in some data from the Seychelles project (45), especially in populations where fish rather than other aquatic species comprise major portions of the diet. Adverse developmental outcomes, that is, could be associated with both low and high levels of methylmercury, and optimal outcomes might be associated with intermediate values, as described below. U-shaped functions are common in nutrition. For example, manganese is required by neonates for normal skeletal and inner ear development and as components of critical enzymes (46). Elevated manganese exposures in neonatal rats, however, can also induce neurochemical and behavioral abnormalities (47). Vitamins share the same kind of U-shaped dose-response properties and, like manganese, reflect different endpoints in the two arms of the U. In the methylmercury example, lower levels might reflect diminished intake of important nutrients such polyunsaturated long chain fatty acids (PUFAs). The n-3 (omega-3) fatty acids, such as docosahexanoic acid (DHA), are abundant in fish. Higher levels of methylmercury would overcome such beneficial properties and induce toxicity. This phenomenon may underlie the finding of an inverse relationship between maternal hair mercury levels and scores of male offspring at 66 and 107 months of age on the Conners Rating Scales, which are used as measures of ADHD (45). These results do not contradict the recognized threats to brain development posed by higher levels of methylmercury exposure; they merely suggest that the neurotoxic risks associated with low levels of exposure may be concealed by the benefits of fish consumption for which methylmercury serves as an exposure marker. Choline levels are also high in fish. Zeisel (48) reviewed the evidence suggesting an essential role for choline in human neurodevelopment and cognitive functioning. Studies in rats have demonstrated that supplementation with choline during embryonic development or immediately following birth can result in improved memory performance, which is maintained throughout life (49). Whether supplementation or deprivation later in postnatal development could affect complex cognitive, sensory, motor or behavioral functions is unclear. Common developmental disorders including ADHD, dyslexia, dyspraxia and autistic spectrum disorders (ASD) may also involve functional deficiencies or imbalances in n-3 and n-6 fatty acids (50). But the Seychellois diet is high in these fatty acids, and the levels of PUFAs in blood in Seychellois women is six times higher than in U.S. women. THE RISK EQUATION AND EFFECT MODIFICATION Few epidemiological studies examining exposure to environmental neurotoxicants can without ambiguity dissociate themselves from the multitude of other toxic risks encountered during development nor, in some cases, such as pesticides, from the question of potential public health benefits. For some environmental contaminants, such as dioxin and lead, no benefits are attached to exposure. For pesticides, it could be argued that exposure must be weighed against the benefits of pest control and efficient agricultural production (51). For seafood, the dilemma is how to construct a risk assessment equation across several dimensions. We are faced with three axioms: 1. All fish, crustaceans, and sea mammals contain methylmercury in variable concentrations. 2. Fish, crustaceans, and sea mammals also contain nutrients, again in variable concentrations, such as n-3 fatty acids, choline, and iodide, that are essential for brain development.

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3. Many fish, crustaceans, and sea mammals are also contaminated with a variety of toxic contaminants other than methylmercury; for example, cadmium, PCBs, polybrominated diethyl ethers (PBDEs) dioxins, DDT and its metabolites, other organochlorine pesticides, and a variety of polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons such as benzo[a]pyrene. Disentangling the individual contributions of such contaminants, all of which can exert adverse effects on brain function and development, is a daunting, if not impossible challenge, especially because of the potential for additive or synergistic combinations. The mixture problem, a legacy of the extent to which we have thoughtlessly contaminated the environment, is hardly confined to seafood, and pervades every facet of current toxicology. Achieving an appropriate balance of risks and benefits for seafood presents an unusual dilemma that needs further exploration. The third axiom above noted that other common contaminants, as discussed in other chapters in this book, offer hazards of their own. Methylmercury is found primarily in muscle tissue. Organohalogens are concentrated in fatty tissue. Fish that are low in methylmercury and high in n-3 fatty acids, such as salmon and herring, because of their high fat content, also tend to contain higher concentrations of the organohalogens. The consumer, as a result, is compelled to choose between toxicants in selecting different varieties of seafood. Farm-raised salmon, for example, may be contaminated by levels of PCBs exceeding those recommended by agencies such as the U.S. EPA (52). These authors also noted wide regional differences in the degree of contamination. Fish raised in farms in Scotland and the Faroes contained the highest concentrations of PCBs, while those raised in Chile contained the least. The high lipid solubility of PCBs and other organohalogens presents a special problem for brain development. The fetal and neonatal brain is 60% lipid, and it consumes a high proportion (70%) of the energy drawn from the mother. Its energy consumption is one reason it is so vulnerable. Fetal and infant brain development are highly dependent on the availability of two long-chain polyunsaturated fatty acids, docosahexanocic acid (DHA) and arachidonic acid (AA). Seafoods provide these nutrients in relative abundance compared to terrestrial sources (53). These authors argue, in fact, that the evolution of the hominid brain depended on the availability of these fatty acids, which were provided in fish consumed by littoral communities. The organohalogen connection, for which PCB levels provide an exposure index, creates interpretive complications. Fangstrom et al. (54), in their analyses of PCBs in pregnant Faroese women, observed high concentrations of PCBs in serum, “possibly the highest so far reported in a population” and attributed these values primarily to the consumption of pilot whale blubber. Some neurotoxic effects of PCB exposure were uncovered in the 7 years assessment (34). The later stratified analyses conducted by Grandjean et al. (55) suggested that neurotoxicity stemming from PCB exposure may be detectable only at the higher levels of methylmercury, which suggests an additive or more complex model. Whether joint PCB and methylmercury exposure can be disentangled by statistical methods is unclear because we do not understand the mechanisms of interaction, or, indeed, if interaction is the proper term for this situation (56). A study of sport fish consumers residing in a community on the shore of Lake Ontario, designed primarily to explore the influence of prenatal PCB exposure on neurobehavioral development, has also unearthed a complex PCB-methylmercury relationship (57). It is, in essence, a mirror-image of Grandjean et al. (55). In this cohort, in offspring exhibiting the higher PCB levels, methylmercury concentrations in maternal

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hair provided a significant predictor of performance on the McCarthy Scales of Children’s Abilities. In a somewhat parallel analysis of PCB-methylmercury interactions, Grandjean et al. (58) reported that breast feeding in the Faroes is associated with diminished growth, an outcome attributed to both methylmercury and PCBs. Put another way, the benefits of breast feeding for neuropsychological development and immune function in a community such as the Faroes have to be balanced against the risk of growth retardation. These PCB-methylmercury interactions can be viewed from the perspective of effect modification as well as from a mechanistic perspective. Bellinger (59) defines the term to describe a phenomenon in which the effects of one variable, such as dose, depend upon the levels of another variable, such as socioeconomic status. Bellinger pointed to the latter as a model, because of his finding that an effect of lead on IQ scores could be seen in children from low SES but not in high SES families. Analogously, in the Ontario and Faroe cohorts, an effect of PCBs (or methylmercury) in combination with methylmercury (or PCBs) depended on the level of the other agent.

INORGANIC MERCURY The risk assessment challenge of methylmercury in seafood is also compounded by simultaneous exposure to inorganic mercury from sources other than food. In the form of mercury vapor (Hg8), elemental mercury is a potent neurotoxicant. The complications for methylmercury risk assessment due to concurrent exposure to the vapor species arise from two sources. One is the potential developmental neurotoxicity of mercury vapor itself. The other is the possibility that the vapor and organic species share common mechanisms of toxicity. Because assays of mercury in blood often do not distinguish inorganic from organic species, much of the data in the literature cannot be used to compare their individual contributions to selected endpoints. Although mercury vapor is a venerable and potent adult neurotoxicant, its hazards for nervous system development are virtually unknown. The fetus may be exposed to both the methyl and vapor forms. While methylmercury is consumed in the diet, exposures to the vapor form may occur in the workplace, as a result of certain religious practices employing metallic mercury (60), through the use of mercury-containing cosmetics (61), or, the most common source, by mercury vapor emitted by dental amalgam restorations and inhaled by pregnant women. Both the organic and vapor forms of mercury are then transmitted to the fetus. Chewing is known to produce vapor, which is then inhaled by the mother and carried to the fetus. Information about the joint effects of these two mercury species is scant, but, on the basis of mechanistic considerations and sketchy animal data, warrants careful consideration. Berlin (62) argues forcefully that inorganic mercury could pose a threat to fetal brain development. He notes, based on in vitro experiments, that toxic effects are discernible at concentrations of 1–10 ng/g in tissue, which lie in the range measured in infants and fetuses from amalgam-bearing mothers. Further, he argues, anatomical and behavioral disorders are seen in rats and in monkeys exposed developmentally at fetal brain concentrations of 10–200 ng/g, which fall below the concentrations seen to produce such effects with methylmercury. In addition, he points to epidemiological studies indicating that occupational exposure to mercury vapor is associated with elevated risks of mental retardation and infants labelled as small for gestational age.

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Inorganic mercury levels in fetal tissue are significantly correlated with the number of maternal amalgam surfaces (63). And Bjornberg et al. (64) report that inorganic Hg in cord blood increased significantly with increasing number of maternal dental amalgam fillings. Not only are billions of individuals world-wide exposed to the emission of mercury vapor from amalgam restorations, but some pregnant women suffer an increase in dental problems such as caries and gingivitis, and become candidates for dental restorations (65). In some communities, dental care, including restorations, is promoted as part of prenatal care. Like methylmercury, inhaled mercury vapor is transported from mother to fetus, across the placenta, in much the same manner in which it crosses from the blood into the brain (66,67). Furthermore, we also know that maternal vapor exposure in humans is correlated with mercury blood levels in the fetus (68). Ionic mercury neither enters the brain nor penetrates the fetus. One source of concern about coexposure arises from morphological findings in primates exposed to inhaled mercury vapor (summarized in 69). Prenatal exposure resulted in brain growth retardation, sulcal abnormalities and increases in the number of heterotopic neurons in the cerebrum. In particular, the subpially localized heterotopic neurons with their disoriented apical dendrites indicated arrested cell migration. Similar changes of subpially localized cells have been noted in humans after exposure to methylmercury (17). Consequently, both empirical and mechanistic reasons suggest that combined exposure to methylmercury and inhaled mercury vapor might together produce effects more severe than those seen from exposure to either agent alone. These are based on the following considerations: (1) both agents produce prenatal damage, (2) both produce behavioral changes in animals at levels that are not overtly toxic, (3) arrested neuronal migration is detectable after both agents, and (4) both agents result in the release in the brain of the same toxic species of mercury, namely, mercuric mercury. Further, as with methylmercury, infants and children seem significantly more vulnerable than adults to mercury vapor toxicity. The syndrome of acrodynia (“painful limbs”), also known as “Pink Disease” because of the erythema and prolonged episodes of irritability and crying, began to make its appearance in medical journals early in this century (70). Its etiology was ascribed mainly to infectious diseases. Only in 1947 was it discovered to be a manifestation of mercury toxicity, when Warkany and Hubbard (71), at the University of Cincinnati, detected high levels of mercury in the urine of children with Pink Disease. The sources consisted of teething powders, which contained calomel (mercurous chloride), and some anti-helminthics. When calomel was withdrawn from teething powders in England, Pink Disease reports fell sharply except for instances probably arising from other exposure sources. Although inorganic mercury compounds were responsible for the early outbreaks, almost all of the contemporary reports of Pink Disease in the medical literature point to mercury vapor as the exposure source (72). Despite the fact that inhaled mercury vapor distributes to the fetal brain in humans (63) and monkeys (73), no investigations of subclinical developmental changes in children, like those conducted for in utero exposure to lead and methylmercury (74), have been published. A study of pregnant women in Sweden (75) found that 28% of the mercury in blood during early pregnancy proved to be inorganic while the rest was comprised of methylmercury. The inorganic component was mostly contributed by dental amalgams. And, as noted earlier, Bjornberg et al. (64), also showed a close relationship between number of maternal amalgams and inorganic mercury in cord blood, but a lower proportion of total mercury, perhaps because of changes in dental care. These values

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should be viewed against the figures derived from the 1999–2000 NHANES survey, which indicated that about 8% of women had blood mercury concentrations higher than the U.S. EPA recommended RfD of 5.8 mg/L (76), which assumes that almost all the mercury in blood is contributed by the methyl form. In a more recent assessment, Mahaffey et al. (32), also based on the 1999–2000 NHANES survey, used measures of both total and inorganic mercury in blood to calculate the organic (methyl) component. They noted that, as the organic proportion rose with an increasing number of fish meals, the inorganic proportion dwindled, but that is to be expected if the vapor exposure remains fairly constant. This argument is not a valid dismissal of the potential contribution of mercury vapor to mercury-associated developmental neurotoxicity. In fact, it could be argued that, as organic mercury intake increases, the potential neurotoxicity of the vapor component becomes increasingly important. In fact, if animal data provide any guidance, the combined exposure may even be synergistic (77). One complication arising from these possibilities is that measures of cord blood mercury often measure only total mercury (27,30,78). Although total mercury is closely related to dietary intake of methylmercury, it is conceivable that the inorganic component may itself be correlated with later neuropsychological measures. Hair levels of mercury do not reflect vapor exposure, so that for most purposes it may be the preferred index. Speciation is also crucial for measuring transfer of mercury to the infant from breast milk. Oskarsson et al. (79) measured mercury concentrations in breast milk, blood, and hair samples, collected six weeks after delivery, from 30 Swedish women. Milk samples showed an average of 51% of total mercury in the form of inorganic mercury. In blood, similar to the findings of Vahter et al. (75), an average of only 26% was present in the inorganic form. Both total and inorganic mercury concentrations in blood and milk were significantly correlated with the number of amalgam restorations. Estimated methylmercury intake from fish and concentrations in breast milk were not related. The potential confounding of different mercury species both in the measurement of endpoints and in biomarker assays warrants precautions such as measuring mercury in maternal and infant urine; urinary mercury provides an index of vapor exposure and is correlated with the number of amalgam restorations.

DELAYED TOXICITY Latent, or delayed, toxicity appies to the phenomenon in which detectable expressions of adverse effects are displaced in time from an acute exposure or after exposure has ceased (80). It represents the core issue, not just for methylmercury, but for all neurodevelopmental toxicants. Cognitive difficulties, retarded language acquisition, and attention deficit disorders, for example, are identified only at a stage of maturation when the organism is expected to be functioning appropriately for that stage. The main challenge for developmental neurotoxicology is how to connect such manifestations to exposures occurring earlier in life. One impediment to securing such an anchor is the documented but rather limited plasticity of the developing brain. The prevailing doctrine used to be that young brains can recover even from the type of severe damage that disables adult brains. One source of this belief was the experiments of Margaret Kennard, who, in the 1930s and 1940s, compared the effects of brain lesions in infant monkeys with presumably similar lesions in adult monkeys and found far less functional disturbance in the infants than in the adults.

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Examined more carefully, however, the doctrine lacked sound support. Kennard, in fact, later reported that deficits in motor function not observed during infancy began to emerge as the lesioned monkeys matured (81). Similar findings were reported after pyramidal tract lesions. In rat studies, aberrant social behaviors in rats subjected to amygdala lesions during infancy appeared only when they reached puberty. The classical experiments of Goldman (82) provided compelling evidence for the phenomenon that has been called, “growing into” the lesion. Monkeys subjected to removal of dorsolateral cortex when infants did not differ from controls on a delayed alternation task at 15 months of age. At 2 years of age, the lesioned monkeys committed significantly more errors than the control monkeys even though they had practiced the task 9 mo earlier. One way to account for such observations is to presume that the behavioral deficits appear only at the time when the damaged region would typically begin to subserve the function being tested. Another way to interpret the phenomenon is to view it as the structure becoming “committed” to a specific range of functions as the organism matures. Prenatal exposure to relatively modest MeHg concentrations (e.g., !10 ppm in maternal hair) may influence only those higher order cognitive functions that develop with maturity. As a result, deficits may not begin to appear until the brain has developed to a stage at which it has “grown into” the lesions caused by earlier exposure. Johnson and Almli (83) describe the phenomenon as follows: “One of the most perplexing results found when brain damage is sustained during infancy is that many behavioral deficits do not become manifest until after considerable time has elapsed.Goldman.has suggested that delayed effects following brain damage sustained at an early age may be related to the degree of functional maturity of the brain region-behavior relationship under study.With maturation, as that brain region would normally become committed to the behavior in question, deficits in behavior of the brain-damaged animal become manifest.” The temporal patterning sequence seen by Gogtay et al. (84) in their MRI mapping study of cortical development reveals that higher-order association cortices mature only after lower-order somatosensory and visual cortices, the functions of which they integrate, are developed. Changes are taking place even into the late teens, so that earlier damage might not emerge, if the “growing into the lesion” phenomenon holds in this instance, until that stage and with tests based on complex cognitive function. The experimental data are supported by observations in humans. Lenneberg (85), on the basis of his experience with brain-injured children offered the following comment: “One may say that the child with a perinatal cerebral injury only gradually ‘grows into his symptoms,’ and that both lesions and symptoms have their own ramified consequences, often affecting distant structures years after the primary injury.” These venerable lesion studies are reviewed here to illustrate the principle that the brain is a dynamic entity and that it changes through the lifespan in often dramatic ways that are reflected in behavior. This principle needs to guide why the conclusions we have reached on the basis of our current information about methylmercury should also remain in a dynamic state, so to speak. Our appreciation of how the consequences of exposure may vary through the lifespan remains fairly primitive. Two animal studies are illuminating examples of this principle. Spyker (15) administered 4 or 8 mg/kg methylmercury to pregnant mice on gestational day 7, 9, or 12. She then maintained them for a lifetime. Most of the offspring displayed no overt signs of toxicity at weaning. At about 30 days of age, the treated offspring showed deviant behavior in open-field testing and in swimming behavior. As they matured, and especially as they approached senescence, they began to exhibit a multitude of disabilities: obesity,

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kyphosis, muscular atrophy, difficulty in righting themselves, and an assortment of less obvious behavioral deficits. They also died sooner than control mice. Two studies in rats, Newland and Rasmussen (86) and Newland et al. (87), also demonstrated interactions with aging following developmental exposure to methylmercury. As they aged, the treated subjects began to display deviations from control performance on complex behavioral tasks. These were not grossly aberrant performances; the deficits occurred earlier during senescence (86), or were expressed as slower acquisition (87). Evidence from nonhuman primates also indicates that effects of low exposures to MeHg during postnatal development may not emerge until later in life. Such delayed neurotoxicity, appearing years after cessation of exposure, was suggested in reports from Minamata, and the publications cited above provide further evidence for such a phenomenon. These primate studies provide even more impressive evidence for delayed toxicity. In one study, Rice (88) exposed one group of monkeys to methylmercury beginning during gestation and continuing until 4 years of age). In tests of auditory function conducted at 11 and 19 years of age, the monkeys exhibited deficits in pure-tone thresholds, especially at the later age. Another group of monkeys received low daily doses of methylmercury from birth to 7 years of age. After a six-years hiatus, at 13 years of age, they began to display mild signs of somatosensory dysfunction in their home cages (40) consisting mainly of impaired dexterity and clumsiness in handling items of food. These observations were validated by tests of vibration sensitivity (89). The monkeys dosed during gestation and until 4 years of age also showed somatosensory deficits (90). Figure 3 depicts the situation graphically and compares it to the Minamata outbreak. There, latency periods as long as 15 years have been reported and described as “Minamata disease of late onset” (91).

Delayed onset in primates* start dosing

end dosing

onset effects

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Late onset of Minamata cases** End of acute Minamata outbreak

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66 69 1960 - 1975

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Figure 3 The late onset of methylmercury poisoning in nonhuman primates and in humans after exposure to methylmercury in Minamata.*Based on Rice (1996) in primates and **Igata (1991) in humans.

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These primate experiments, although revealing sensory and motor deficits resulting from developmental exposures, failed to demonstrate the kind of cognitive performance deficits assayed by certain forms of schedule-controlled operant behavior (92,93). Newland et al. (94), relying on another form of operant behavior, did demonstrate deficits associated with prenatal exposure. In this situation, the exposed animals showed retarded adaptation to shifts in reinforcement contingencies. Different monkey species as well as different dosing schedules may underlie the different findings.

POSTNATAL EXPOSURES IN HUMANS The primary question addressed by human developmental studies up to now is whether prenatal exposure to methylmercury is associated with adverse effects on behavioral function during childhood. The long-term impact of postnatal dietary exposure has largely been overlooked. Exposure doesn’t cease at birth, however. In populations in which fish comprises a significant part of the diet, it is consumed over a lifetime. We remain largely ignorant of the joint contribution to neurobehavioral outcomes of prenatal and postnatal exposure. The two largest epidemiological studies, one in the Faroe Islands (34), the other in the Seychelles (33), have provided data on pre-adolescent ages. A recent reanalysis of the Seychelles data (95) suggests the possibility that postnatal exposure may incur subtle adverse effects that only become apparent as children approach adolescence. Nonlinear multiple regression analyses of scores on the Child Behavior Checklist at 107 months of age showed a significant adverse association, on the Thought Problems subscale, with contemporary hair levels of methylmercury. Figure 4 shows a partial residual plot for depicting the association (pZ0.002). No effects are seen below approximately 8 ppm, but there is an increasing trend (adverse effect) above that level. Thought Problems

Smoothed Postnatal MeHg

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10 15 Postnatal MeHg

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Figure 4 Plot showing the relationship between scores on the Thought Problems subscale of the Child Behavior Checklist and postnatal methylmercury exposure as measured by hair levels at 107 months of age. The analysis was based on the application of semiparametric additive models. Above about 10 ppm the data points are fewer and the confidence intervals widen. The rug plot (vertical marks) along the bottom illustrates the distribution of postnatal exposure in this cohort. Source: From Ref. 95.

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These results, indicating effects of postnatal exposure, to some extent parallel those of Murata et al. (96) with the Faroe Islands cohort on brainstem auditory evoked responses at 14 years of age. When tested at age 7 years, (34,97), the cohort exhibited delayed latencies associated with elevated prenatal exposures based on cord blood. The newer data, based on age 14 years, showed increased delays associated, as well, with current exposures as measured by the children’s hair levels of mercury. Subtle adverse consequences emerging during later childhood and adolescence, as also seen in experimental animals, should come as no surprise. Adolescence, like the perinatal period, is a tumultuous stage of development during which profound changes are occurring in brain function (84). Adams and colleagues (98) noted that “in addition to the dramatic neuroendocrinological and physical changes associated with adolescence.it is clear that the brain of the adolescent also undergoes striking transformations.Several brain regions undergo prominent remodeling.These regions include the prefrontal cortex.These data suggest that the adolescent period of brain development should be a time of particular vulnerability to insult.However, there has been surprisingly little investigation in either humans or animals of the vulnerability of the adolescent brain to developmental perturbation. Moreover, adverse impacts on neurocognitive and behavioral functions during such periods are likely to have protracted consequences for latter success.” This question deserves to be urgently pursued in methylmercury research. These recent data are especially relevant because, in fish-consuming populations, prenatal and postnatal exposures are entwined. However, prenatal and postnatal exposures seem to result in different patterns of brain damage, and, as a result, tend to produce different phenotypes. Prenatal exposure disrupts cell migration and differentiation throughout the developing brain in mice (19) and in humans (20). Such extensive damage would be expected to induce widespread impairment manifested as deficits in cognitive function, sensory function, motor function, information processing and language, memory, attention, and social communication. The syndrome of what Japanese investigators labeled Congenital Minamata Disease, which was marked overtly by neurological signs, included such global effects. In contrast, postnatal exposure, at least in adults, appears to be predominantly focal with most damage centered in areas deep in the sulci such as the calcarine fissure and the folds of the cerebellum in both nonhuman primates (99) and humans (9). It is this pattern of damage that accounts for the signs and symptoms associated with methylmercury poisoning (Table 1) before the sensitivity of the developing brain was appreciated. Aging The emphasis on early development has tended to obscure a larger issue: the consequences of lifetime exposure. The overwhelmingly predominant source of methylmercury is fish and other aquatic species. Fish consumption takes place through a lifetime and, during advanced age, the brain, as seen in animal studies, may begin to reflect the consequences of cumulative exposure. In fact, in its investigation of the catastrophe at Minamata, Japan, the Kumamoto University committee made the following statement (100): “.the problem about the relationship between a small amount of methylmercury pollution for a long period and its accumulation in the brain still remains obscure.Subclinical Minamata disease was sometimes revealed by detectable symptoms during the aging process.The subclinical Minamata disease.could be called a delayed type of Minamata disease in aged people.” A more quantitative assessment of this finding can be found in Kinjo et al. (101). They compared over one thousand Minamata disease patients aged 40 or over with

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controls matched by age and sex. A questionnaire interview surveyed subjective complaints and activities of daily living (ADL). The patients had significantly higher rates of all complaints than the controls, particularly in the categories of sensory disturbances such as paresthesias and motor difficulties such as tremor and weakness. Differences between patients and controls increased with age, and ADL disability in MD patients was aggravated by aging. The observations in Minamata emphasize how crucial it is, to more fully understand the risks stemming from developmental exposures, to study outcomes not only during the relatively early phases of the life cycle, but throughout the lifetime (87,102). The risks are ambiguous because early, low-level exposures may produce undetected, latent (103), or “silent” damage (104,105) that will be manifested only when functional capacities are challenged by other conditions, such as aging (106,107), drugs (108,109), or complex behavioral situations (86,87). The effects ascribed to aging underscore the principle that neurotoxicity may be manifested differently at different stages of the life cycle (88,92). Certainly, older humans handle drugs and toxicants differently from younger adults who handle them differently from children and neonates. Furthermore, the age question deserves a greater emphasis than it has received in the past. It is important to ask how such exposures might affect “aging” processes themselves (110). The pioneering experiments of Spyker (15) and Spyker et al. (111), the primate studies of Rice (90,92), and the aging models offered by Weiss and Simon (107) and Weiss et al. (106) show how these issues become closely intertwined when addressing the long-term consequences of exposures to toxic agents during early development.

UNRESOLVED ISSUES Despite the flood of research unleashed by the disasters in Minamata and Iraq, perplexing questions about the risks to neurobehavioral development posed by methylmercury persist. One stimulus for such questions is the source of exposure. Fish is an essential part of the diet for many populations, so exposure is inescapable. Even in populations where other protein sources are readily available, such as ours, fish remains an important food. Whatever risks are associated with fish consumption need to be weighed against its nutritional properties, some of which were discussed earlier. Moreover, methylmercury is hardly the only contaminant to be considered in evaluating the potential risks of fish consumption. Our grasp of how such risks combine is relatively primitive (56). Second, we must recognize that the selection of endpoints for assessing methylmercury neurotoxicity reveals incompatabilities between epidemiological and laboratory research. The human studies, in part because of their reliance on standardized tests—perhaps inescapably—have featured cognitive function. Animal studies indicate deficits in motor and sensory function to be the clearest outcomes of exposure, in parallel with poisonings in adult humans. The appropriate endpoints need to be pursued more intensively in developmentally-exposed humans. Finally, the issue that has been least adequately addressed is how to formulate risks based on lifetime exposure. We are especially deficient in our understanding of the combined effects of prenatal and postnatal exposure. Development is a continuous process, although sometimes treated as though it is separated into a series of individual journeys. Delayed or latent effects, and the contribution of aging, with its accompanying decline in compensatory processes, have not been incorporated into the risk equation.

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24. Kjellstrom T, Kennedy P, Wallis S, et al. Physical and mental development of children with prenatal exposure to mercury from fish. Stage 2. Interviews and psychological tests at age 6.Solna, Sweden: National Swedish Environmental Board Report No. 3642, 1989. 25. Lebel J, Mergler D, Branches F, et al. Neurotoxic effects of low-level methylmercury contamination in the Amazonian Basin. Environ Res 1998; 79:20–32. 26. McKeown-Eyssen GE, Ruedy J, Neims A. Methyl mercury exposure in northern Quebec. II. Neurologic findings in children. Am J Epidemiol 1983; 118:470–479. 27. Ramirez GB, Pagulayan O, Akagi H, et al. Tagum study II: Follow-up study at two years of age after prenatal exposure to mercury. Pediatrics 2003; 111:e289–e295. 28. McDowell MA, Dillon CF, Osterloh J, et al. Hair mercury levels in U.S. children and women of childbearing age: reference range data from NHANES 1999–2000. Environ Health Perspect 2004; 112:1165–1171. 29. Rice DC. The US EPA reference dose for methylmercury: sources of uncertainty. Environ Res 2004; 95:406–413. 30. Stern AH, Smith AE. An assessment of the cord blood:maternal blood methylmercury ratio: implications for risk assessment. Environ Health Perspect 2003; 111:1465–1670. 31. Cernichiari E, Brewer R, Myers GJ, et al. Monitoring methylmercury during pregnancy: maternal hair predicts fetal brain exposure. Neurotoxicology 1995; 16:705–710. 32. Mahaffey KR, Clickner RP, Bodurow CC. Blood organic mercury and dietary mercury intake: national health and nutrition examination survey, 1999 and 2000. Environ Health Perspect 2004; 112:562–570. 33. Myers GJ, Davidson PW, Cox C, et al. Prenatal methylmercury exposure from ocean fish consumption in the Seychelles child development study. Lancet 2003; 361:1686–1692. 34. Grandjean P, Weihe P, White RF, et al. Cognitive deficit in 7-years-old children with prenatal exposure to methylmercury. Neurotoxicol Teratol 1997; 19:417–428. 35. National Research Council. Committee on the Toxicological Effects of Methylmercury. Toxicological Effects of Methylmercury. Washington, DC: National Academy Press, 2000. 36. Crump KS, Van Landingham C, Shamlaye C, et al. Benchmark concentrations for methylmercury obtained from the Seychelles Child Development Study. Environ Health Perspect 2000; 108:257–263. 37. U.S. EPA. Mercury Report to Congress, Volume VI: Characterization of Human Health and Wildlife Risks from Anthropogenic Mercury Emissions in the United States. EPA452/R-97-001f. Washington, DC:U.S. Environmental Protection Agency, 1997. 38. Vahter M, Mottet NK, Friberg L, Lind B, Shen DD, Burbacher T. Speciation of mercury in the primate blood and brain following long-term exposure to methyl mercury. Toxicol Appl Pharmacol 1994; 124:221–229. 39. Evans HL, Garman RH, Weiss B. Methylmercury: exposure duration and regional distribution as determinants of neurtoxicity in nonhuman primates. Toxicol Appl Pharmacol 1977; 41:15–33. 40. Rice DC. Brain and tissue levels of mercury after chronic methylmercury exposure in the monkey. Toxicol Environ Health 1989; 27:189–198. 41. Stinson CH, Shen DM, Burbacher TM, Mohamed MK, Mottet NK. Kinetics of methyl mercury in blood and brain during chronic exposure in the monkey Macaca fascicularis. Pharmacol Toxicol 1989; 65:223–230. 42. Lapham LW, Cernichiari E, Cox C, et al. An analysis of autopsy brain tissue from infants prenatally exposed to methymercury. Neurotoxicology 1995; 16:689–704. 43. Burbacher TM, Rodier PM, Weiss B. Methylmercury developmental neurotoxicity: a comparison of effects in humans and animals. Neurotoxicol Teratol 1990; 2:191–202. 44. Calabrese EJ, Baldwin LA. Hormesis: the dose-response revolution. Ann Rev Pharmacol Toxicol 2003; 43:175–197. 45. Davidson PW, Myers GJ, Cox C, et al. Effects of prenatal and postnatal methylmercury exposure from fish consumption on neurodevelopment: outcomes at 66 months of age in the Seychelles Child Development Study. JAMA 1998; 280:701–707.

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46. Hurley LS. The roles of trace elements in foetal and neonatal development. Philos Trans R Soc Lond B Biol Sci 1981; 294:145–152. 47. Tran TT, Chowanadisai W, Crinella FM, Chicz-DeMet A, Lonnerdal B. Effect of high dietary manganese intake of neonatal rats on tissue mineral accumulation, striatal dopamine levels, and neurodevelopmental status. Neurotoxicology 2002; 23:635–643. 48. Zeisel SH. Choline: needed for normal development of memory. J Am Coll Nutr 2000; 19:528S–531S. 49. Meck WH, Williams CL. Simultaneous temporal processing is sensitive to prenatal choline availability in mature and aged rats. Neuroreport 1997; 8:3045–3051. 50. Richardson AJ. Clinical trials of fatty acid treatment in ADHD, dyslexia, dyspraxia and the autistic spectrum. Prostaglandins Leukot Essent Fatty Acids 2004; 70:383–390. 51. Weiss B, Amler S, Amler RW. Pesticides. Pediatrics 2004; 113:1030–1036. 52. Hites RA, Foran JA, Carpenter DO, Hamilton MC, Knuth BA, Schwager SJ. Global assessment of organic contaminants in farmed salmon. Science 2004; 303:226–229. 53. Broadhurst CL, Wang Y, Crawford MA, Cunnane SC, Parkington JE, Schmidt WF. Brainspecific lipids from marine, lacustrine, or terrestrial food resources: potential impact on early African Homo sapiens. Comp Biochem Physiol B Biochem Mol Biol 2002; 131:653–673. 54. Fangstrom B, Athanasiadou M, Grandjean P, Weihe P, Bergman A. Hydroxylated PCB metabolites and PCBs in serum from pregnant Faroese women. Environ Health Perspect 2002; 110:895–899. 55. Grandjean P, Weihe P, Burse VW, et al. Neurobehavioral deficits associated with PCB in 7-years-old children prenatally exposed to seafood neurotoxicants. Neurotoxicol Teratol 2001; 23:305–317. 56. Newland MC. Neurobehavioral toxicity of methylmercury and PCBs: Effects-profile and sensitive populations. Environ Toxicol Pharmacol 2002; 12:119–128. 57. Stewart PW, Reihman J, Lonky EI, Darvill TJ, Pagano J. Cognitive development in preschool children prenatally exposed to PCBs and MeHg. Neurotoxicol Teratol 2003; 25:11–22. 58. Grandjean P, Budtz-Jorgensen E, Steuerwald U, et al. Attenuated growth of breast-fed children exposed to increased concentrations of methylmercury and polychlorinated biphenyls. FASEB J 2003; 17:699–701. 59. Bellinger DC. Effect modification in epidemiologic studies of low-level neurotoxicant exposures and health outcomes. Neurotoxicol Teratol 2000; 22:133–140. 60. Riley DM, Newby CA, Leal-Almeraz TO, Thomas VM. Assessing elemental mercury vapor exposure from cultural and religious practices. Environ Health Perspect 2001; 109:779–784. 61. U.S. Centers for Disease Control. Mercury poisoning associated with beauty cream–Texas, New Mexico, and California, 1995–1996. Morbidity Mortality Weekly 1996; 45:400–403. 62. Berlin M. Mercury in dental amalgam: a risk analysis. Seychelles Med Dent J 2004; 7:154–158. 63. Drasch G, Schupp I, Hofl H, Reinke R, Roider G. Mercury burden of human fetal and infant tissues. Eur J Pediat 1994; 153:607–610. 64. Bjornberg KA, Vahter M, Petersson-Grawe K, et al. Methyl mercury and inorganic mercury in Swedish pregnant women and in cord blood: influence of fish consumption. Environ Health Perspect 2003; 111:637–641. 65. Salvolini E, Di Giorgio R, Curatola A, Mazzanti L, Fratto G. Biochemical modifications of human whole saliva induced by pregnancy. Br J Obstet Gynaecol 1998; 105:656–660. 66. Clarkson TW. The pharmacology of mercury compounds. Ann Rev Pharmacol 1972; 12:375–406. 67. Clarkson TW, Friberg L, Hursh JB, Nylander M. The prediction of mercury intake from amalgams. In: Clarkson TW, Friberg L, Nordberg FG, Sager PR, eds. Biological Monitoring of Toxic Meals. New York: Plenum Press, 1988:246–260. 68. Clarkson TW. The three modern faces of mercury. Environ Health Perspect 2002; 110:11–23. 69. Goering PL, Galloway WD, Clarkson TW, Lorscheider FL, Berlin M, Rowland AS. Toxicity assessment of mercury vapor from dental amalgams. Fundam Appl Toxicol 1992; 19:319–329.

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70. Weiss B, Clarkson TW. Mercury toxicity in children. In: Chemical and Radiation Hazards to Children. Ross Pediatric Conferences, 1982:52–58. 71. Warkany J, Hubbard DM. Adverse mercurial reactions in the form of acrodynia and related conditions. Am J Dis Child 1951; 81:335–373. 72. Curtis HA, Ferguson SD, Kell RL, Samuel AH. Mercury as a health hazard. Arch Dis Child 1987; 62:293–295. 73. Warfvinge K. Mercury distribution in the neonatal and adult cerebellum after mercury vapor exposure of pregnant squirrel monkeys. Environ Res 2000; 83:93–101. 74. World Heath Organization. Environmental Health Criteria 101, Methylmercury. Geneva, Switzerland: World Health Organization, 1990. 75. Vahter M, Akesson A, Lind B, Bjors U, Schutz A, Berglund M. Longitudinal study of methylmercury and inorganic mercury in blood and urine of pregnant and lactating women, as well as in umbilical cord blood. Environ Res 2000; 84:186–194. 76. Schober SE, Sinks TH, Jones RL, et al. Blood mercury levels in US children and women of childbearing age, 1999–2000. JAMA 2003; 289:1667–1674. 77. Fredriksson A, Dencker L, Archer T, Danielsson BR. Prenatal coexposure to metallic mercury vapour and methylmercury produce interactive behavioural changes in adult rats. Neurotoxicol Teratol 1996; 18:129–134. 78. Bilrha H, Roy R, Moreau B, Belles-Isles M, Dewailly E, Ayotte P. In vitro activation of cord blood mononuclear cells and cytokine production in a remote coastal population exposed to organochlorines and methylmercury. Environ Health Perspect 2003; 111:1952–1957. 79. Oskarsson A, Schultz A, Skerfving S, Hallen IP, Ohlin B, Lagerkvist BJ. Total and inorganic mercury in breast milk in relation to fish consumption and amalgam in lactating women. Arch Environ Health 1996; 51:234–241. 80. Weiss B, Reuhl K. Delayed neurotoxicity: a silent toxicity. In: Chang LW, ed. Principles of Neurotoxicology. New York: Marcel Dekker, 1994:765–784. 81. Kennard MA. Cortical reorganization of motor function. Studies on series of monkeys of various ages from infancy to maturity. Arch Neurol Psychiat 1942; 48:227–240. 82. Goldman PS. An alternative to deelopmental plasticity: heterology of CNS structures in infants and and adults. In: Stein DG, Rosen JJ, Butters N, eds. Plasticity and Recovery of Function in the Central Nervous System. New York: Academic Press, 1974:149–174. 83. Johnson D, Almli CR. Age, brain damage, and performance. In: Finger S, ed. Recovery from brain damage. Research and theory. New York: Plenum Press, 1978:115–134. 84. Gogtay N, Giedd JN, Lusk L, Hayashi KM, Greenstein D, Vaituzis AC, et al. Dynamic mapping of human cortical development during childhood through early adulthood. Proc Natl Acad Sci USA 2004; 10121:8174–8179. 85. Lenneberg EH. The effect of age on the outcome of cortical nervous system disease in children. In: Isaacson RI, ed. The Neuropsychology of Development. New York: Wiley, 1968. 86. Newland MC, Rasmussen EB. Aging unmasks adverse effects of gestational exposure to methylmercury in rats. Neurotoxicol Teratol 2000; 22:819–828. 87. Newland MC, Reile PA, Langston JL. Gestational exposure to methylmercury retards choice in transition in aging rats. Neurotoxicol Teratol 2004; 26:179–194. 88. Rice DC. Age-related increase in auditory impairment in monkeys exposed in utero plus postnatally to methylmercury. Toxicol Sci 1998; 44:191–196. 89. Rice DC, Gilbert SG. Effects of developmental methylmercury exposure or lifetime lead exposure on vibration sensitivity function in monkeys. Toxicol Appl Pharmacol 1995; 134:161–169. 90. Rice DC. Evidence for delayed neurotoxicity produced by methylmercury. Neurotoxicology 1996; 17:583–596. 91. Igata A. Epidemiological and clinical features of Minamata Disease. In: Suzuki T, Imura N, Clarkson TW, eds. Advances in Mercury Toxicology. New York: Plenum Press, 1991:439–457. 92. Rice DC. Effects of pre- plus postnatal exposure to methylmercury in the monkey on fixed interval and discrimination reversal performance. Neurotoxicology 1992; 13:443–452.

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93. Gilbert SG, Burbacher TM, Rice DC. Effects of in utero methylmercury exposure on a spatial delayed alternation task in monkeys. Toxicol Appl Pharmacol 1993; 123:130–136. 94. Newland MC, Yezhou S, Logdberg B, Berlin M. Prolonged behavioral effects of in utero exposure to lead or methyl mercury–reduced sensitivity to changes in reinforcement contingencies during behavioral transitions and in steady state. Tox Appl Pharmacol 1994; 126:6–15. 95. Myers GJ, Davidson PW, Shamlaye CF, et al. The Seychelles Child Development Study of methylmercury from fish consumption: analysis of subscales from the Child Behavior Checklist at age 107 months in the main cohort. Seychelles Med Dent J 2004; 7:107–114. 96. Murata K, Weihe P, Budtz-Jorgensen E, Jorgensen PJ, Grandjean P. Delayed brainstem auditory evoked potential latencies in 14-years-old children exposed to methylmercury. J Pediatr 2004; 144:177–183. 97. Murata K, Weihe P, Renzoni A, et al. Delayed evoked potentials in children exposed to methylmercury from seafood. Neurotoxicol Teratol 1999; 21:343–348. 98. Adams J, Barone S, Jr., LaMantia A, et al. Workshop to identify critical windows of exposure for children’s health: neurobehavioral work group summary. Environ Health Perspect 2000; 108:535–544. 99. Garman RH, Weiss B, Evans HL. Alkylmercurial encephalopathy in the monkey (Saimiri sciureus and Macaca arctoides): a histopathologic and autoradiographic study. Acta Neuropathologica 1975; 32:61–74. 100. Research Committee on Minamata Disease. Kumanoto, Japan: Kumamoto University, 1973. 101. Kinjo Y, Higashi H, Nakano A, Sakamoto M, Sakai R. Profile of subjective complaints and activities of daily living among current patients with Minamata disease after 3 decades. Environ Res 1993; 63:241–251. 102. Berlin CM, Kacew S. Environmental chemicals in human milk. In: Kacew S, Lambert GH, eds. Environmental Toxicology and Pharmacology of Human Development. Washington, DC: Taylor & Francis, 1997:67–93. 103. Isaacson RL. The myth of recovery from early brain damage. In: Ellis NR, ed. Aberrant Development in Infancy: Human and Animal Studies. Hillsdale, NJ: Erlbaum, 1975:1–25. 104. Grant CA. Pathology of experimental methylmercury intoxication: Some problems of exposure and response. In: Miller MW, Clarkson TW, eds. Mercury, Mercurials, and Mercaptans. Springfield, IL: Charles C. Thomas, 1973:294–312. 105. Reuhl KR, Chang LW. Effects of methylmercury on the development of the nervous system. Neurotoxicology 1979; 1:21–55. 106. Weiss B, Clarkson TW, Simon W. Silent latency periods in methylmercury poisoning and in neurodegenerative disease. Environ Health Perspect 2002; 110:851–854. 107. Weiss B, Simon W. Quantitative Perspectives on the long-term toxicity of methylmercury and similar poisons. In: Weiss B, Laties VG, eds. Behavioral Toxicology. New York: Plenum, 1975:429–435. 108. Eccles CU, Annau Z. Prenatal methyl mercury exposure, II: Alterations in learning and psychotropic drug sensitivity in adult offspring. Neurobehav Toxicol Teratol 1982; 4:377–382. 109. Rasmussen EB, Newland MC. Developmental exposure to methylmercury alters behavioral sensitivity to D-amphetamine and pentobarbital in adult rats. Neurotoxicol Teratol 2001; 23:45–55. 110. Williams JR, Spencer PR, Stahl SM, et al. Interactions of aging and environmental agents: the toxicological perspective. In: Baker SR, Rogul M et al, eds. Environmental Toxicity and the Aging Processes. New York: Liss, 1987:81–135. 111. Spyker JM, Sparber SB, Goldberg AM. Subtle consequences of methylmercury exposure: behavioral deviations in offspring of treated mothers. Science 1972; 177:621–623.

2 Developmental Neurotoxicity Associated with Dietary Exposure to Methylmercury from Seafood and Freshwater Fish Philippe Grandjean Department of Environmental Medicine, University of Southern Denmark, Odense, Denmark and Department of Environmental Health, Harvard School of Public Health, Boston, Massachusetts, U.S.A.

Sylvaine Cordier National Institute for Health and Medical Research (INSERM), Rennes, France

Tord Kjellstro¨m National Institute of Public Health, Stockholm, Sweden and Australian National University, Canberra, Australian Capital Territory, Australia and Wellington School of Medicine and Health Sciences, Wellington, New Zealand

INTRODUCTION Methylmercury is a ubiquitous contaminant of seafood and freshwater fish (1). Human exposures to this toxicant have increased over time, due to anthropogenic mercury pollution, and because modern fishing technology allows catching large predatory species that accumulate methylmercury. Dramatic reminders of the neurotoxic potential of methylmercury occurred in the poisoning incidents in Minamata and Niigata, Japan, in the 1950s and 1960s and the subsequent contamination of bread in Iraq in 1971 from methylmercury-treated seed grains (1,2). Recent assessments of methylmercury neurotoxicity have been published by national and international bodies, e.g., the U.S. National Research Council (3), the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency (4), and the Joint FAO/WHO Expert Committee on Food Additives (5). While agreeing that the developing brain is the main target for methylmercury, the reports suggest that two of the largest prospective studies of developmental neurotoxicity have reached “different” conclusions. Indeed, one study seems to disagree with several others, but the neurotoxicology literature includes many examples of studies that are ‘non-positive’ without offering convincing evidence that neurotoxic effects were absent (6). 25

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Like other scientific inquiries, epidemiological studies will always render tentative knowledge, since no scientific process can provide absolute proof. However, the observational studies carried out so far to explore the low-level neurotoxicity of methylmercury offer strong evidence of the public health impact of exposures that are common in many populations that depend on marine food or freshwater fish. The present chapter will review the main issues in regard to the current risk assessment of methylmercury.

PROSPECTIVE STUDY DESIGNS AND SETTINGS In the absence of clinical controlled trials, prospective epidemiological studies provide evidence of the greatest importance. When choosing a setting, the researchers must try to maximize the statistical power and validity of the study by securing a wide exposure interval, a high participation rate, also at follow-up, feasibility of applying sensitive outcome measures, and limited impact of potential confounders. Three major prospective cohort studies on adverse effects of prenatal methylmercury exposure have been published, each conducted in a population with a high average intake of seafood. The first study was carried out in New Zealand. A group of 11,000 new mothers was initially screened by a questionnaire survey at the time their child was born in 1978; of these, about 1000 had consumed at least 3 fish meals per week during pregnancy. Their hair mercury levels were analyzed (7). Seventy-three mothers ‘one of whom had twins’, had hair mercury levels above 6 mg/g and were defined as the “high-exposure group”. High mercury exposure from seafood was mainly due to consumption of sharks, which in New Zealand usually contain methylmercury concentrations of 1–5 mg/g (7). At age 4 years, 31 highexposure children and 31 reference children with lower exposure were matched for potential confounders, i.e., mother’s ethnic group, age, child’s birthplace and birth date. The highexposure group showed lower scores on the Denver Developmental Screening test (7). A follow-up of the original cohort was carried out at age 6 years, now with three control groups with lower prenatal mercury exposure (8). During pregnancy, mothers in two of these control groups had high fish consumption and average hair mercury concentrations of 3–6 mg/g and 0–3 mg/g, respectively. Matching parameters were maternal ethnic group, age, smoking habits, residence, and sex of the child. At this time, 61 of 74 high exposure children were available for examinations (8). Lead levels in cord blood and garden soil were tested to assess potential confounding, but there was no association between lead and methylmercury exposure. Results of the psychological performance tests correlated well. Stepwise robust multiple regression analysis showed that the full (and performance) Wechsler Intelligence Scale for Children (WISC-R), the McCarthy Scales of Children’s Abilities (perceptual and motoric), and the Test of Oral Language Development were most strongly associated with the maternal hair mercury concentration (8). The proportion of the variance in test results due to hair mercury above 6 mg/g was about 2%, which was similar to the influence of social class and home language, two of the main confounders accounted for in the analysis. The robust regression analysis reduced the impact of one extreme outlier (with maternal hair-mercury above 80 mg/g). A reanalysis of the full database of this study (9) replicated the association between high maternal mercury exposure and reduced test performance, but the statistical significance was very much influenced by the extreme outlier. When this subject was excluded some tests became statistically significant. Later on, a study was initiated in the Faroe Islands in the North Atlantic (10). The first birth cohort consisted of 1,022 children born during a 21-month period in 1986–1987.

Methylmercury from Seafood and Freshwater Fish

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The Faroes constitute a prosperous fishing community where excess exposure to methylmercury is widely prevalent because of the traditional habit of eating meat from the pilot whale. Ingestion of whale blubber causes exposure to lipophilic contaminants, notably polychlorinated biphenyls (PCBs). Assessment of prenatal methylmercury exposure was based on mercury concentrations in cord blood and in maternal hair; they spanned a range of about 1000-fold. Lead levels in cord blood were low. All cohort members were invited for the first detailed examination at school age (7 years), and a total of 917 of eligible children (90.3%) completed the examinations that lasted about 5 hours. The physical examination included a sensory function assessment and a functional neurological examination with emphasis on motor coordination and perceptual-motor performance. Main emphasis was placed on detailed neurophysiological and neuropsychological function tests that had been selected as sensitive indicators of abnormalities thought to be caused by methylmercury. A repeat examination was carried out at age 14 years, again with a high participation rate, and the clinical test battery was very similar to the one previously applied, with proper adjustment for the participants now being adolescents. The main finding at the 7-year follow-up in the Faroes was that decrements in attention, language, verbal memory, and, to a lesser extent, in motor speed and visuospatial function, were associated with prenatal methylmercury exposure; the cord– blood mercury concentration was the best risk indicator (10). These findings were robust in the full Faroes data set in analyses controlled for age, sex and confounders, and they persisted after exclusion of high-exposure subjects. Support for these findings were seen in some of the neurological tests, but particularly in delays in brainstem auditory evoked potentials (11). Likewise, prenatal methylmercury exposure is associated with a decrease in the normal heart rate variability, and this indication of poorer nervous system control of heart function is reflected in a tendency of increased blood pressure (12). Data on the 14-year follow-up are currently being processed, but two recent publications address the neurophysiological outcomes that are unlikely to be affected by socioeconomic confounders (13,14). Mercury-associated delays in brainstem auditory evoked potentials remained at 14 years, as did the decreased heart rate variability. These two functions were associated, perhaps due to their joint involvement of brainstem nuclei, but the association became weaker when adjusted for mercury exposure. These findings suggest that brainstem toxicity may be an important component of developmental methylmercury neurotoxicity. The brainstem auditory evoked potentials also showed a delay in peak V, i.e., the signal elicited by the transmission of the electrical signal to the midbrain, but this delay was associated only with the current methylmercury exposure (Fig. 1) (13). The average hair-mercury concentration in the adolescents examined was about 1 mg/g, i.e., close to the current Reference Dose (RfD) established by the U.S. EPA. This observation suggests that the vulnerability of the brain may extend into the teenage period, and that even exposures similar to the RfD may cause adverse effects. Two birth cohorts were formed in the Seychelles, both involving about 800 children, i.e., about 50% of all children born during the year (15). For exposure assessment, a hair sample was obtained from the mother, about six months after birth. The hair segment that represented the pregnancy period was identified from the assumption that hair grows 1.1 cm per month. The authors have noted that the first pilot study was not as wellcontrolled as the main or longitudinal study: there were fewer covariates, medical records were not reviewed as carefully, and there was less information on socio-economic status. A subset of 217 children from the pilot cohort was evaluated at 66 months (16). Maternal hair mercury was negatively associated with the McCarthy General Cognitive Index and Perceptual Performance subscale, and the Preschool Language Scale Total

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BAEP III – V 20 Hz (ms)

1.94 1.90 1.86 1.82 1.78 1.74 0.01

0.10 1.00 Child Hair Mercury Concentration (mg/g)

10.00

Figure 1 Latency of peak V of the brainstem auditory evoked potentials recorded in 859 Faroese children at 14 years adjusted for sex and age (27). The association is estimated in a generalized additive model analysis, using the current hair-mercury concentration as an indicator of current exposure. The broken lines indicate the point-wise 95% confidence interval for the doseresponse relationship. Each vertical line above the horizontal axis represents one observation at the exposure level indicated. The average exposure is similar to the U.S. EPA Reference dose (1 mg/g).

Language and Auditory Comprehension subscale. When statistically determined outliers and points considered to be influential were removed from the analyses, statistical significance of the association remained only for auditory comprehension. The main Seychelles study included evaluation of the children at 6.5, 19, 29 and 66 months of age, and again at 8 years. No association with maternal hair mercury was found for most endpoints in these children (16,17). At 29 months there was an association between mercury exposure and decreased activity level in boys only, who also showed a possible mercury-associated delay in age for walking, but the latter was not significant when adjusted for confounders. The authors cautioned that subtle neurological and neurobehavioral effects are more likely to be detected in older rather than younger children. The most detailed examination was carried out at age 8 years using tests that were similar to those applied in New Zealand and the Faroes. In calculating possible effects of prenatal methylmercury exposure, the regression equations included adjustment for postnatal exposure. No association between deficits and maternal hair-mercury concentrations was evident (17). Despite the apparent differences between the three studies of mercury-exposed populations, they may not necessarily be in disagreement. For example, the confidence intervals for the Faroes and Seychelles studies overlap, and the findings therefore do not significantly differ (18). Further, some differences would be anticipated, because these two studies used different methods for assessment of exposures and outcomes (Table 1), and due to different epidemiological settings. The New Zealand study population may be most similar to continental Europe and North America, even though about half of the high-exposure mothers were of Pacific Island descent. Their diet is high in ocean fish, and very few of them smoke, but otherwise their exposures in daily life would not be very different from other New Zealand women or, indeed, women from other Western societies.

Methylmercury from Seafood and Freshwater Fish Table 1

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Main Differences Between the Prospective Studies of Methylmercury-Exposed Children

Attribute Source of exposure Exposure assessment Concomitant exposures Language Socioeconomic setting Family setting Outcome tests Clinical examiners

New Zealand

Faroes

Shark and other large Whale, ocean fish and ocean fish shellfish Maternal hair Cord blood and maternal hair Lead in house paint PCBs (whale blubber) and air English (and Pacific Faroese (and Danish) languages) Industrialized Industrialized Western Scandinavian Urban, mixed cultures Traditional Omnibus Domain-related and neurophysiological Clinical specialists Clinical specialists

Seychelles Ocean fish Maternal hair Pesticide use in tropics Creole (English and French) Middle-income developing Mainly matriarchal Omnibus and domainrelated Nurse/student

The neurotoxicity of methylmercury should not be judged from a single observational study but needs to be evaluated on the basis of the overall strength of the total evidence available. It is fortunate that three prospective projects have been carried out under different circumstances, and that supplementary information is available from cross-sectional studies. Their strengths and weaknesses need to be considered jointly. Following a review of the cross-sectional studies, we will consider the main issues in this assessment.

CROSS-SECTIONAL STUDIES Due to logistical difficulties in carrying out prospective studies in many exposed communities, most studies were cross-sectional (Table 2). In addition, some research teams have recently embarked on potential prospective studies, but results published so far warrant consideration only as cross-sectional. Again, researchers have chosen populations that include representation of high-level exposures to methylmercury. However, due to the remote setting, e.g., in the Arctic or the Amazon basin, less sophisticated parameters had to be chosen, also taking into account the possible differences in culture, language, and school education. Some of studies are particularly important, because they focus on the impact of methylmercury from freshwater fish. Thus, in the Amazonian region, fish contamination has been increased by local mercury pollution from gold-mining activities. In the Arctic, the traditional diet includes sea mammals and other species high in the food chain, thereby causing an increased risk of high intake of biomagnified methylmercury. The groups of children examined have ranged from tens to a few hundred. Selection bias, especially when studying older children, is possible, and usually no information was available about children who were unavailable for the study. Most likely such selection would result in healthier children being examined, thereby potentially obscuring exposurerelated effects. The studies also differ in regard to the exposure intervals covered. Exposure levels range from an average of about 5 mg/g maternal hair (Cree Indians in Northern Que´bec,

234 children (12–30 mo)

131 infant–mother pairs

21/36 children exposed (3–15 years) 15 non-exposed

149/153 children (7 yr)

354/420 children (7–12 yr)

Peru (20)

Ecuador (21)

Madeira (11)

Brazil (22)

Population (age range)

Canada (19)

Country (ref)

mgZ11.0 mg/g mgZ11.6 mg/g

Child hair Maternal hair (rZ0.80)

Freshwater fish (gold mining area)

Neurological exam Neuropsychological tests: Finger tapping, Hand–eye coordination test Continuous performance test WISC-R: digit spans block designs Stanford–Binet Bead memory test Neurophysiological tests: Brainstem auditory evoked potentials Pattern-reversal visual evoked potentials Neuropsychological tests: Finger-tapping Santa ana dexterity test WISC-R digit span Stanford-Binet tests: Copying Recall Bead memory

mgZ3.8 mg/g mgZ9.6 mg/g

Child hair Maternal hair

Audiological tests Auditory brainstem evoked potentials (10 children exposed)

maZ16.2 mg/L

Child’s blood at time of exam

Freshwater fish (gold mining area)

Marine fish

Growth parameters Developmental milestones

mgZ7 mg/g [1–29]

Growth parameters Neurological exam

Outcomes measured

maZ6 mg/g [0–24]

Level of exposure

Maternal hair during pregnancy

Maternal hair during pregnancy

Exposure biomarker

Marine fish

Freshwater fish

Main source of exposure

pZ0.003 pZ0.02 ns

ns pZ0.001 ns

Correlation I–III (and I–V) interpeak latency with maternal Hg Correlation N145 withmaternal Hg

ns

ns

ns Association with I-III interpeak latency (left ear only)

ns

Abnormalities of tendon reflexes (boys only, no dose-response)

Results

Table 2 Description of Cross-Sectional Studies on the Association Between Prenatal Exposure to Methylmercury and Neurodevelopmental Effects 30 Grandjean et al.

ns (but highly significant when merged with the Madeira data)

Abbreviations: ma, arithmetic mean; mg, geometric mean.

median Z1.63 mg/g median Z1.65 mg/g

Several neurophysiological tests: Brainstem auditory evoked potentials

Child hair Maternal hair

327 children (7 yr)

Akita, Japan (26)

Seafood

Correlation hand-eye coordination test with maternal Hg (pZ0.01)

Neurological exam Neuropsychological tests: Finger tapping Hand-eye coordination test Continuous performance test WISC-R: digit spans block designs Stanford-Binet Bead memory test Neurophysiological tests: Brainstem auditory evoked potentials Pattern-reversal visual evoked potentials

mgZ5.5 mg/g mgZ15.5 mg/g

Marine mam- Child hair mals (arctic Maternal hair traditional food)

43 children (7–12 yr)

Greenland (25)

ns pZ0.006

ns p!0.001 ns

ns

Increased tendon reflexes,

Neurological exam (Amiel-Tison) Neuropsychological tests Finger tapping Stanford-Binet test Block Copying Bead memory McCarthy Digit forward Leg coordination

mgZ10.2 mg/g mgZ12.7 mg/g

Child hair Maternal hair (high exposure area) (rZ0.30)

Freshwater fish (gold mining)

French 248/290 children Guiana (24) neurological ex. (6mo–6 yr) 206/243 children neuropsy. tests (5–12 yr)

pZ0.03

Neurological optimality scale

mgZ20.4 mg/L mgZ4.1 mg/g

Cord blood Maternal hair

182 infants (2 wk)

Maternal seafood diet

Faroe Islands (23)

Methylmercury from Seafood and Freshwater Fish 31

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Faroes, and two groups in the Amazon Basin) up to 13 mg/g in French Guiana, and even higher in Northern Greenland. Despite the differences in cultural settings and other limitations, these studies show a number of concordant findings when taking into account the different protocols and research strategies. One of the new prospective studies is the Faroese Cohort 2 that included 182 singleton term births. These children were first examined by the Neurological Optimality Score (NOS) at age two weeks (adjusted for gestational age). Detailed information was obtained on exposures both to methylmercury and to lipophilic pollutants. The NOS showed significant decreases at higher cord–blood mercury concentrations, while PCB was not important (23). A small study carried out in the northernmost Greenland included data on prenatal exposure levels on about half of the subjects (25). While anticipating the results from a newly initiated prospective study in Japan (27), a cross-sectional study has analyzed preserved umbilical cords as a measure of the children’s prenatal exposure levels (26). Because the developing brain is considered the main target of methylmercury toxicity, evaluation of these studies must be based on the assumption that exposures measured at the time of the postnatal examination represent causative exposures at the time of the greatest vulnerability of the nervous system. Postnatal exposure may of course add to the overall toxic impact, thereby complicating the evaluation if exposures have not been constant. Overall, these studies tend to confirm that attention, motor coordination and speed, and visuospatial function are sensitive targets of methylmercury toxicity. Language and verbal memory may also be vulnerable, but were not evaluated.

EXPOSURE ASSESSMENT A crucial element in the risk assessment process is a correct measure of exposure in terms of relevant period and accurate level. Because the exposure is not a matter of design, the validity of the exposure assessment depends on the degree to which the exposure parameters reflect the “true” exposure. Exposure biomarkers should be considered only proxy variables, which are always imprecise to some extent. This issue is important, because exposure misclassification is likely to be nondifferential and will therefore cause underestimation of the true effect of the exposure. In the prospective studies, samples for mercury analysis have included maternal hair, cord blood, and cord tissue collected at parturition. In the Seychelles (16), maternal hair was collected at a delay of 6 months after delivery. Some studies have also used maternal dietary questionnaires to obtain information on the origin and approximate magnitude of the methylmercury exposure. Cross-sectional studies, as opposed to cohort studies, rely on surrogate measures of fetal exposure, because the children were enrolled several years after birth. In the populations studied, it seems reasonable to assume that diet has changed little over time due to the preponderant role of fish among available resources. In addition, fish contamination by mercury has most likely remained fairly stable in the years following birth. Such stability was evidenced by the study in Peru, in which peak and average concentrations of mercury in maternal hair during pregnancy are very similar and in French Guiana where hair mercury levels measured five years apart in different villages were remarkably constant. Most studies in Table 2 used maternal hair collected at time of child’s examination. In two studies, the child’s exposure (blood or hair measurement) was used instead due

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to incomplete data on maternal exposure levels, and because a good correlation was documented between the child’s and the mother’s exposure levels (22). This association is to be expected when older children are examined in communities where they are usually sharing the meals with their parents at home. If the child’s current exposure does not provide a correct ranking between individuals, it could introduce exposure misclassification and thus underestimate the risk. However, if the child’s exposure is lower than the maternal level, an exaggeration of the risk may ensue. The length of maternal hair analyzed is also important for assessment of mercury exposures during pregnancy. Although hair growth rates are known to vary, a 90 mm hair sample obtained at parturition or shortly thereafter would be thought to represent the average mercury exposure during the whole pregnancy. In New Zealand, monthly (10 mm) exposure levels varied by a factor of 2, and on average the peak monthly exposure was about 50% higher than the 9-month average (8). In the Faroes, similar variations were recorded, with coefficients of variation mostly being below 25% (28). Comparison of hair from the Faroes and the Seychelles showed similar short-term variations (29). Until recently, the degree of imprecision has been assumed to be reflected by laboratory imprecisions, although these low levels of imprecision (usually about 5% or less) could not explain why associations between mercury concentrations in hair and blood often show wide scattering. Mercury analyses should always be supported by detailed quality control procedures (e.g., blind comparison with other experienced laboratories and use of certified samples) as was first done in the New Zealand study (8). Although frequently used for feasibility reasons, the maternal hair mercury concentration is likely to be a rather imprecise measure, particularly in regard to fetal exposure. Among sources of variability are hair growth rate, hair type, hair color, external contamination, and leaching due to permanent hair treatments (30). As a contributory reason for differences in study outcomes, temporal variability in exposure has been suggested. The concern is that ‘bolus’ exposures might be more toxic than steady exposures at an average level. This hypothesis is difficult to test, but experimental evidence (31) suggests that fetal brain concentrations change more slowly than maternal blood concentrations. In addition, exposure variability is likely to introduce error in the exposure assessment, and such misclassification would be likely to cause an underestimation of the dose–response relationship. In agreement with this prediction, exclusion of Faroese cohort subjects with variable exposures during gestation tended to increase the associations between the mercury exposure and the deficits (28). In international comparisons, three main types of hair structure are recognized (i.e., African, Caucasian, and Oriental), but good data for calibration with blood concentrations exists only for the latter two hair types. Thus, for the African population in the Seychelles, translation of hair-mercury results to blood concentrations and intake levels must currently be based on data mainly from Caucasian populations. Recent studies have now documented that the coefficient of variation for the hair-mercury imprecision is over 50%, i.e., twice the level found for the blood concentration (32). The overall effect of such non-differential imprecision is that the regression coefficients decrease, the P-values increase, and adjustment for confounders with better precision cause additional bias toward the null hypothesis (33). When calculating an exposure level from the hair mercury concentration, an average hair-to-blood ratio of 250 is generally used (4). This ratio is in accordance with recent evidence on Caucasian and Oriental hair (30), but is known to vary considerably between individuals. The 95th percentile differs from the median by a factor between 2 and 3. It also depends on the concentration level, and it changes with age (32).

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OUTCOME VARIABLES The validity of outcome variables depends on their sensitivity to the exposure under study and the specificity in this regard, i.e., lack of sensitivity to the influence of other factors, including confounders. The choice of effect parameters must at the same time be feasible and appropriate for the age of the children, and for the setting of the study. Tests that depend only minimally on cooperation of the subject have the advantage of being less likely to be affected by motivation. The more advanced neuropsychological tests are only possible when a child has reached school age. However, such tests may be of uncertain validity, if they have not previously been applied in the same culture. In addition, many tests require special skills of the examiner. All of these issues need to be considered when evaluating the study findings. Most studies employed a battery of neurobehavioral tests, and some appeared to be more sensitive to mercury neurotoxicity than others. Simple comparison of regression coefficients may provide suggestions for the most sensitive parameter, at least within the confines of a particular study. To facilitate such comparisons, the regression coefficient may be expressed as a proportion of the standard deviation of the test result, or as a delay in mental development calculated from the regression coefficient for age. Alternatively, benchmark dose levels may be used as a basis for comparison. Thus, the most sensitive neurological, neuropsychological, and neurophysiological effects parameters all exhibit benchmark dose levels of 5–10 mg/g hair. Despite the great variability of the study settings and the outcome variables, this observation suggests a substantial degree of concordance and that the combined evidence therefore is quite convincing in regard to the dose– response relationship.

Neurological Tests Many of the studies included a neurological exam (11,19,20,23,24). Unfortunately protocols of examination differ between studies: in the Canadian and French Guiana studies, evaluation of sensory functions, cranial signs, muscle tone, stretch reflexes and coordination were conducted in young children. Both studies reported abnormal tendon reflexes in association with maternal hair concentration. However, contrary to the expectation, these signs were mild and isolated, and the reproducibility of the assessment in the French Guiana study was reported to be poor (24). In the study in Peru (20), essential details of the neurological evaluation (items, age of the children examined) were not presented precluding informed expertise of their results. In this study, frequencies of abnormal signs were not associated with maternal mercury levels. In Madeira and the first Faroes cohort, the neurological examination put emphasis on motor coordination and perceptual motor performance (10,11); children who failed the most difficult of the 19 functional neurological tasks tended to have slightly higher exposures than children who performed well. In summary, the clinical neurological tests provide limited evidence linking lowdose methylmercury exposures to detectable abnormalities. It is very likely however that this absence of positive findings partly reflects the lack of sensitivity of this type of evaluation in this range of exposure levels. Thus, performance on a clinical test is rated by the examiner, thereby introducing a potential subjective aspect, and scoring is usually a simple pass-fail or pass-questionable-fail, thereby limiting the sensitivity.

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Developmental Tests Among the prospective studies, the New Zealand children were examined at 4 years of age using the Denver Developmental Screen Test (DDST). It consists of four major function sectors: gross motor, fine motor, language, and personal–social, where possible scores are abnormal, questionable, or normal. The prevalence for developmental delay in children was 52% for children of high mercury mothers and 17% for those of mothers of the reference group; the delays most frequently affected fine motor and language sectors. The Bayley Scales of Infant Development (BSID) was used in the Seychelles, but no mercuryassociated deficits were reported. Developmental tests may be useful for such studies in small children, they may be less dependent on differences in culture than are tests appropriate for older children, but they may be of limited sensitivity to subtle changes.

Neuropsychological Tests While likely to be more sensitive in revealing early neurotoxic changes, neuropsychological test results may also be affected if the administration is not standardized, and they may show examiner-dependence. Further, they may be sensitive to details in the test situation, such as the use of an interpreter, changes in temperature, and other aspects that may be important when a test is used for the first time in a particular culture. In New Zealand, two blinded psychologists tested the same children with a shortened version of the standard tests used and documented a remarkable agreement (8). In the Faroes and several other studies, tests were administered to all children by the same examiner, thus limiting the possible impact of examiner-related differences. Traditionally, studies in this field have included standard intelligence test batteries, because of the wealth of information available on such tests and the implications of lowlevel performance. The New Zealand study applied the Wechsler Intelligence Scale for Children (WISC) and McCarthy Scale of Children’s Abilities at age 6 years. Likewise, the Seychelles examinations included the McCarthy Scales. These intelligence tests may not be the most appropriate and sensitive for effects of methylmercury. Still, significant effects were found on the WISC and McCarthy in the New Zealand study. The New Zealand study also used the “Test of Oral Language Development” (a standard test widely used in New Zealand school programs), and this test appeared to be the most affected by methylmercury exposure. In the Faroes, the approach taken was to emphasize tests that reflected functional domains, e.g., attention, motor speed, and verbal memory. The functions chosen were those that were most likely to be affected by developmental methylmercury exposure, as judged from location of neuropathological lesions in poisoning cases and as illustrated by studies of other developmental neurotoxicants, especially lead. In the Faroes, the Boston Naming test appeared to be the most sensitive outcome. Similar tests were included when the Seychelles cohort was examined at age 8 years. However, application of the Boston Naming test in a different culture may not be unproblematic. For example, the sequence of stimuli may not necessarily represent an increasing degree of difficulty, e.g., if pictures of an igloo or an acorn are not as familiar to children in a tropical developing country as they are to northern children from the Faroes, or the United States, where the test was developed. In addition, each stimulus was meant to have one correct answer, but since Seychellois is a mixed language, then some stimuli in the Boston Naming test are known to have as many as three correct answers. Thus, even if the same test material and instructions (after translation) are used, the validity of the tests will necessarily differ.

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A variety of neuropsychological tests, including WISC subtests were used under different circumstances in the cross-sectional studies in Madeira, Greenland, Brazil and French Guiana. In the first two and in an Indian group studied in Brazil, all tests were administered with the use of an interpreter, thereby making the test results less reliable. Likewise, the Continuous Performance test used in the Seychelles was not supervised by an examiner, thereby allowing for possible untoward variability that would be less likely if the examiner was present. Results on such computer-assisted tests will also be affected by the prior computer experience of the child. Due to the type of populations studied, the researchers attempted to avoid culturebiased and language-dependent tests, thereby precluding evaluation of important domains. The functions evaluated focused on motor speed and motor coordination, visuospatial organization, attention, and short-term memory. Several tests were common to these studies and also overlap with the prospective studies, e.g., finger tapping, and Stanford-Binet Bead Memory. At increased exposure levels, reduced scores were evidenced on the Santa-Ana dexterity test in Brazil and the McCarthy leg coordination test in French Guiana. In these two studies, scores on the Stanford-Binet Copying test (that measures visuospatial organization) were negatively associated with mercury exposure with very similar regression coefficients in the two studies. Several types of errors occurred in these tests, and the French Guiana study pointed more specifically at rotation errors among younger children (5–6 years old). Such errors would suggest possible insult in the parietal lobes of the brain resulting in developmental delay in the learning to place objects in space (34). Whether or not this type of test would appear sensitive in other populations living in other cultural environments needs to be established. Neurophysiological Testing As an objective evaluation of brain dysfunction that is probably less sensitive to confounding, neurophysiological tests have been applied in several studies. Their applicability requires advanced instrumentation and depends on skilled examiners. An outcome that has previously been found to be sensitive to lead exposure is brainstem auditory evoked potentials. They are recorded using surface electrodes placed on the skull while the child listens to a stimulus in one ear. The transmission of the electrical signals within the brain is then recorded as peaks that represent the acoustic nerve, an intermediate connection in the pons, and the midbrain. The latency of peak III was significantly increased at higher intrauterine exposure to mercury. Parallel associations were found in 7-year-old children in the Faroes, in Madeira, and in Japan, and these observations were then replicated in the Faroese cohort when examined at 14 years. A smaller study from Ecuador also reported delays in peak III at higher exposure levels. In addition, prolonged latencies of peak V among the 14 years-old were linked to the current mercury exposure only and therefore suggested on effect of postnatal mercury exposure (Fig. 1) and that this effects is different from those caused by mercury exposure during fetal development.

CONFOUNDING VARIABLES Three major reasons for confounding have been noted as to why a mercury effect might have been overestimated: (a) association of mercury intake with exposure to other neurotoxic pollutant(s); (b) other types of residual confounding; and (c) inadequate adjustment for multiple comparisons (35). The best protection against confounding problems is to select a study setting where such concerns are unlikely and, if relevant, may be adjusted for

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appropriately. Thus, a homogeneous society with limited differences in socioeconomic and cultural factors should be chosen. The existence of residual confounding can never be fully excluded, but there is little reason to invoke “phantom” covariates to explain away a biologically plausible association between methylmercury exposure and neurobehavioral deficits. In addition, most attention is usually paid to confounders that affect the outcomes in the same direction as the exposure under study, but confounders may also have the opposite effect of attenuating the apparent impact of the exposure. Thus the potential for overestimation of a toxic effect should not be raised without paying equal attention to the risk of underestimation. Standard multiple regression methods are often used for controlling for confounding effects. Even in the absence of confounding, adjustment for such established predictors as sex, age, and maternal intelligence should be included to obtain a more precise estimate of the mercury effect. In general, the prudent approach is usually to include all covariates that may be potential confounders. However, in situations were the exposure is measured with some degree of imprecision (as is the case here), this approach may result in biased estimates when covariates are less imprecise. Inclusion of such covariates, which are associated with the exposure but without any explanatory power in regard to the effect, will then increase the underestimation of the effect of the exposure of interest (33). As a main concern in regard to confounding, socioeconomic conditions vary substantially between the study settings. Although mercury neurotoxicity was reported in almost all studies, differences within each study could be important. New Zealand and the Faroes represent relatively wealthy, industrialized populations, where socioeconomic differences are thought to be limited, but most of the other studies were carried out in developing countries, where basic sanitary problems are common, and where nutritional deficiencies may occur, both of which may be difficult to adjust for. In the Seychelles, stunting still occurs in a small percentage of children (36). In New Zealand, ethnic differences appeared to play a role, but the analysis was based on matching of the children in the different exposure groups for ethnicity. An additional factor of possible interest is consanguinity, which is more frequent in island populations and other isolated communities. However, to cause confounding, the degree of consanguinity would have to be associated with mercury exposure and at the same time result in neurobehavioral deficits. Both assumptions seem unlikely, but documentation from an individual study would be a major undertaking. The family structure and home environment are documented as important determinants of childhood development. Within the populations studied, circumstances may vary. For example, only about 25% of the births in the Seychelles are nuptial, while an additional 50% are recognized by a father, but about 25% of children have no known father (37). Accordingly, children of the Seychelles cohort were said to be accompanied by a “care-giver,” often a relative, with whom the child was living (18). The variable family structure, which may be difficult to adjust for in statistical analyses, contrasts with the more uniform circumstances of most other studies with a traditional and stable family structure. In the New Zealand study, low social class and non-English home language reduced the score in some tests (not surprising) and more than 6 months of breastfeeding increased the score in some tests (8). These variables were accounted for in the multiple regression analysis. Among other known developmental neurotoxicants, none is as prevalent as ethanol. Most studies reported that maternal alcohol use during pregnancy was minimal, but in some cases it may be difficult to assess because of the importance of home-brewed beverages, e.g., in the Seychelles (38).

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In particular the Faroese are exposed to PCBs, in this case from eating whale blubber. Detailed analyses of the Faroes data failed to show any important impact of PCB exposure on the neurotoxicity outcomes (39,40). Inclusion of PCB exposure in a structural equation model attenuated the mercury effect somewhat; mercury remained statistically significant, but PCB was far from significant (41). In New Zealand and the Seychelles, the ocean fish consumed is unlikely to be contaminated by PCB, and the same would be the case with freshwater fish in the Amazon Basin. A reverse effect may occur if subjects who do not eat mercury-containing fish instead consume fruits and vegetables that contain pesticides. Such exposures are more likely in tropical developing countries. The neurotoxicity of many pesticides could then potentially cause neurodevelopmental effects in children with low-level mercury exposures, thus blurring the dose-response relationship. Although pesticide use might be a cofactor in the Seychelles, no information is available to evaluate this possibility. Certain essential nutrients in fish and seafood may provide beneficial effects on brain development, thereby possibly counteracting adverse effects of the contaminants. This possibility has often been mentioned in regard to ocean fish (17). Perhaps, if ocean fish contains higher concentrations of essential n-3 fatty acids than do freshwater fish, then this difference could perhaps explain why the mercury dose–response relationship appears to be steeper in populations that rely on river fish. Chemical analyses of ocean fish from New Zealand show that selenium concentrations do not depend on fish size, while mercury concentrations increased linearly (42). Although selenium has been considered to potentially provide protection against mercury effects, cord–blood selenium concentrations in the Faroes did not impact on mercury-associated deficits. It seems unlikely that essential nutrients would counteract all aspects of mercury neurotoxicity.

PUBLIC HEALTH RELEVANCE Public health authorities have recently begun to issue dietary advisories in regard to the most contaminated types of freshwater fish and seafood. However, some discussions on methylmercury toxicity have erroneously pictured the situation as a conflict between a negative and a positive study. This misleading characteristic may be related to disagreements between regulatory agencies and has been exploited by vested interest groups. In epidemiology, the term “non-positive” is often used in regard to studies that were unable to detect a particular effect. Also, no matter how positive a study is, all observational studies have weaknesses, and a prudent judgment should be based on the total amount of evidence available, no on single studies, whether positive or not. The present chapter has demonstrated that the scientific evidence on methylmercury neurotoxicity is fairly consistent, and that adverse effects may even occur at low-level exposures. There is no dispute about the very serious prenatal effects that occurred in Minamata at maternal hair-mercury concentrations in the range of 10–100 mg/g (1–3). It would seem intuitively logical that less severe effects may occur at the exposure ranges found in the more recent studies. Because of the global significance of methylmercury contamination of food, these scientific findings need to be expressed in terms that may facilitate an evaluation of their public health significance. The Faroes study showed that each doubling in prenatal mercury exposure corresponded to a delay of one or two months in mental development at age 7 years (10). Because rapid development occurs at that age, such delays may be important. Also, even small shifts in a measure of central tendency may be associated with large changes in the tails of the distribution. Such developmental delays are likely to be permanent, at least

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in part, but the long-term implications are unknown. The experience with lead neurotoxicity suggests that such effects are likely to remain and that they may even become more apparent with time. A shift in IQ levels was documented in the New Zealand study (8). The average WISC-R full-scale IQ for the study population (nZ237) was 93. In the group with maternal hair mercury above 6 mg/g (nZ61) the average was 90. The average exposure in the latter group would be about 4-fold higher than in the study population as a whole. Another way of presenting these shifts in IQ is to estimate the increased number of subjects with very low IQ as methylmercury exposure increases. In New Zealand, an IQ below 70 (Zmental retardation) was twice as common (increase from 5 to 10%) in the highest hair mercury group (O10 mg/g) compared to the group with hair mercury below 6 mg/g (42). For the IQ range 71–85, the increase was from 20 to 25%, but due to the small number of children, this result was not statistically significant. Another approach was used in the Faroes in the absence of formal IQ tests. The regression coefficients were expressed as a proportion of the standard deviation of the test results (22). The most sensitive outcome parameters show a decrement of about 10% of the standard deviation at each doubling of the prenatal methylmercury exposure level. Had an IQ scale been used, with a standard deviation of 15 IQ points, a doubling in the exposure could have caused a deficit of about 1.5 IQ points. More detailed calculations based on the three WISC tests administered are in agreement with this conclusion (43). These findings are also in good agreement with the New Zealand data, and recent calculations of associated diminished lifetime economic productivity suggest that societal expenses may be very substantial (44). Each of these estimations is associated with some degree of uncertainty. Some scientific uncertainties are bound to remain, although new prospective cohort studies on methylmercury neurotoxicity are starting to provide new evidence, e.g., from ongoing research in Japan. However, the documentation is not going to expand substantially or otherwise provide much clearer guidance for regulatory agencies. It should also be recognized that the question as to whether to base decisions either on proof of harm or on precaution cannot be settled from epidemiological evidence. The experience with lead research (6) has amply illustrated that apparent disagreement is likely to occur between studies carried out by different methods in different settings. We therefore should not anticipate complete coherence among all available evidence. Accordingly, decisions on preventive efforts should be justified by the scientific database at large, taking into account its various uncertainties and inconsistencies. The potential costs and other societal consequences of policy decisions—including decisions to do nothing—deserve fair consideration. However, these issues should be addressed in parallel to and separate from the discussion of toxicological and epidemiological concerns. Otherwise, the erroneous impression will be generated that disagreements on preventive measures are solely due to uncertainties in epidemiologic evidence.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS This work was supported by the U.S. National Institute of Environmental Health Sciences (ES09797 and ES11681) and the Danish Medical Research Council. The contents of this paper are solely the responsibility of the authors and do not represent the official views of the NIEHS, NIH or any other funding agency.

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REFERENCES 1. United Nations Environment Programme. Global Mercury Assessment. Geneva, 2002. 2. Tsubaki T, Irukayama K. Minamata Disease: Methylmercury Poisoning in Minamata and Niigata, Japan. Amsterdam: Elsevier Scientific Publishing Company, 1977. 3. National Research Council Toxicological Effects of Methylmercury. Washington: National Academy Press, 2000. 4. U.S. Environmental Protection Agency, Office of Science and Technology, Office of Water (2001). Water quality criterion for the protection of human health: methylmercury, Final. EPA823-R-01-001. Washington, 2001. http://www.epa.gov/waterscience/criteria/methylmercury/ document.html. (Accessed 19 December, 2003). 5. JECFA (Joint FAO/WHO Expert Committee on Food Additives). Sixty-first meeting, Rome, 10–19 June 2003. Summary and conclusions. ftp://ftp.fao.org/es/esn/jecfa/jecfa61sc.pdf. (Accessed 19 December, 2003). 6. Needleman HL, Bellinger D. Studies of lead exposure and the developing central nervous system: a reply to Kaufman. Arch Clin Neuropsychol 2001; 16:359–374. 7. Kjellstro¨m T, Kennedy P, Wallis S, Mantell C. Physical and mental development of children with prenatal exposure to mercury from fish. Stage 1: Preliminary tests at age 4. (Report 3080) Stockholm, National Swedish Environmental Protection Board, 1986. 8. Kjellstro¨m T, Kennedy P, Wallis S, et-al. Physical and mental development of children with prenatal exposure to mercury from fish. Stage 2, interviews and psychological tests at age 6. (Report 3642) Stockholm, National Swedish Environmental Protection Board, 1989. 9. Crump KS, Kjellstrom T, Shipp AM, Silvers A, Stewart A. Influence of prenatal mercury exposure upon scholastic and psychological test performance: benchmark analysis of a New Zealand cohort. Risk Anal 1998; 18:701–713. 10. Grandjean P, Weihe P, White RF, et al. Cognitive deficit in 7-year-old children with prenatal exposure to methylmercury. Neurotoxicol Teratol 1997; 19:417–428. 11. Murata K, Weihe P, Renzoni A, et al. Delayed evoked potentials in children exposed to methylmercury from seafood. Neurotoxicol Teratol 1999; 21:343–348. 12. Sørensen N, Murata K, Budtz-Jorgensen E, Weihe P, Grandjean P. Prenatal methylmercury exposure as a cardiovascular risk factor at seven years of age. Epidemiology 1999; 10:370–375. 13. Murata K, Weihe P, Budtz-Jørgensen E, Jørgensen PJ, Grandjean P. Delayed brainstem auditory evoked potential latencies in 14-year-old children exposed to methylmercury. J Pediatr 2004; 144:177–183. 14. Grandjean P, Murata K, Budtz-Jorgensen E, Weihe P. Cardiac autonomic activity in methylmercury neurotoxicity: 14-year follow-up of a Faroese birth cohort. J Pediatr 2004; 144:169–176. 15. Shamlaye CF, Marsh DO, Myers GJ, et al. The Seychelles child development study on neurodevelopmental outcomes in children following in utero exposure to methylmercury from a maternal fish diet: background and demographics. Neurotoxicology 1995; 16:597–612. 16. Myers GJ, Davidson PW, Cox C, et al. Summary of the Seychelles child development study on the relationship of fetal methylmercury exposure to neurodevelopment. Neurotoxicology 1995; 16:711–716. 17. Myers GJ, Davidson PW, Cox C, et al. Prenatal methylmercury exposure from ocean fish consumption in the Seychelles child development study. Lancet 2003; 361:1686–1692. 18. Keiding N, Budtz-Jørgensen E, Grandjean P. Prenatal methylmercury exposure in the Seychelles [letter]. Lancet 2003; 362:664–665. 19. McKeown-Eyssen G, Ruedy J, Neims A. Methylmercury exposure in northern Quebec. II. Neurologic findings in children. Am J Epidemiol 1983; 118:470–479. 20. Marsh DO, Turner MD, Smith JC, Perez VMH, Allen P, Richdale N. Fetal MeHg study in a Peruvian fish eating population. Neurotoxicology 1995; 16:717–726. 21. Counter SA, Buchanan LH, Laurell G, Ortega F. Blood mercury and auditory neuro-sensory responses in children and adults in the Nambija gold mining area of Ecuador. Neurotoxicology 1998; 19:185–196.

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22. Grandjean P, White R, Nielsen A, Cleary D, de Oliveira-Santos E. Methylmercury neurotoxicity in Amazonian children downstream from gold mining. Environ Health Perspect 1999; 107:587–591. 23. Steuerwald U, Weihe P, Jørgensen PJ, et al. Maternal seafood diet, methylmercury exposure, and neonatal neurologic function. J Pediatr 2000; 136:599–605. 24. Cordier S, Garel M, Mandereau L, et al. Neurodevelopmental investigations among methylmercury-exposed children in French Guiana. Environ Res 2002; 89:1–11. 25. Weihe P, Hansen JC, Murata K, et al. Neurobehavioral performance of Inuit children with increased prenatal exposure to methylmercury. Int J Circumpolar Health 2002; 61:41–49. 26. Murata K, Sakamoto M, Nakai K, et al. Effects of methylmercury on neurodevelopment in Japanese children in relation to the Madeiran study. Int Arch Occup Environ Health 2004; 77:571–579. 27. Nakai K, Suzuki K, Oka T, et al. The Tohoku Study of Child Development: a Cohort Study of the effects of perinatal exposures to methylmercury and environmentally persistent organic pollutants on neurobehavioral development in Japanese children. Tohoku J Exp Med 2004; 202:227–237. 28. Grandjean P, White RF, Weihe P, Jørgensen PJ. Neurotoxic risk caused by stable and variable exposure to methylmercury from seafood. Ambul Pediatr 2003; 3:18–23. 29. Lanzirotti A, Jones KW, Clarkson TW, Grandjean P. Human health risks from methyl mercury in fish. Science Highlights—National Synchroton Light Source Activity Report. Upton, NY: Brookhaven National Laboratory, 2002 pp. 97–99. 30. Grandjean P, Jørgensen PJ, Weihe P. Validity of mercury exposure biomarkers. In: Wilson SH, Suk WA, eds. Biomarkers of Environmentally Associated Disease. Boca Raton, FL: CRC Press/Lewis Publishers, 2002:235–247. 31. Lewandowski TA, Pierce CH, Pingree SD, Hong S, Faustman EM. Methylmercury distribution in the pregnant rat and embryo during early midbrain organogenesis. Teratology 2002; 66:235–241. 32. Budtz-Jørgensen E, Grandjean P, Jørgensen PJ, Weihe P, Keiding N. Association between mercury concentrations in blood and hair in methylmercury-exposed subjects at different ages. Environ Res 2004; 95:385–393. 33. Budtz-Jørgensen E, Keiding N, Grandjean P, Weihe P, White RF. Consequences of exposure measurement error for confounder identification in environmental epidemiology. Stat Med 2003; 22:3089–3100. 34. Sullivan, K. Neurodevelopmental aspects of methylmercury exposure: neuropsychological consequences and cultural issues. PhD Thesis in Behavioral Neuroscience, Boston University School of Medicine, 1999. 35. NIEHS. Workshop organized by Committee on Environmental and Natural Resources (CENR), Office of Science and Technology Policy (OSTP), The White House: Scientific Issues Relevant to Assessment of Health Effects from Exposure to Methylmercury, November 18–20, 1998. (Accessed December 19, 2003). Available from: http://ntp.niehs.nih.gov/main_pages/ PUBS/MethMercWkshpRpt.html. (Accessed 10 January, 2006). 36. WRI (World Resources Institute) Earth Trends: The Environmental Information Portal, 2003. Variable: Children’s Health: Stunting in Children Under 5. Washington. http://earthtrends.wri. org/text/POP/variables/387.htm. (Accessed 5 March, 2004). 37. MISD (Management & Information Systems Division), Statistics & Database Administration Section (SDAS) of the Ministry of Information Technology & Communication of the Republic of Seychelles, 2003. Statistical Bulletin Quarterly: Population and Vital Statistics 2002. Victoria, Mahe: table 3 (Registered Live Births By Year, Month of Registration, Sex and Status, 1998–2002). 38. Perdrix J, Bovet P, Larue D, Yersin B, Burnand B, Paccaud F. Patterns of alcohol consumption in the Seychelles Islands (Indian Ocean). Alcohol Alcohol 1999; 34:773–785. 39. Budtz-Jørgensen E, Keiding N, Grandjean P, White RF, Weihe P. Methylmercury neurotoxicity independent of PCB exposure [letter]. Environ Health Perspect 1999; 107:A236–A237.

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3 Effects of Developmental PCB Exposure on Neuropsychological Function in Epidemiological Studies: Issues and Research Needs Deborah C. Rice Environmental and Occupational Health Program, Maine Center for Disease Control and Prevention, Augusta and Center for Integrative and Applied Toxicology, University of Southern Maine, Portland, Maine, U.S.A.

Attention focused on the adverse consequences of PCB exposure on the developing fetus following poisoning episodes in Taiwan (1–4) and Japan (5). Ingestion of rice oil, contaminated with PCBs, dibenzofurans and dibenzodioxins, by women before or during pregnancy resulted in infants with hyperpigmentation, mental retardation, and other overt effects at high exposures, and cognitive impairment and behavior problems at lower exposures. It was clear from these unfortunate incidents that the fetus was much more sensitive to these chemicals than were adults. In the 1980s, investigators in Michigan studied the consequences of developmental exposure to PCBs in women who did or did not consume Lake Michigan fish (6). During the same time period, the effects of in utero exposure were examined in a North Carolina cohort whose exposure was through the general food supply (7). Both studies documented adverse effects during infancy associated with maternal or fetal PCB body burden. The Michigan study found effects on IQ, attention, memory, and reading ability that persisted at least through 11 yr of age (8,9). In the 1990s, several longitudinal prospective studies were implemented to examine the effects of PCBs and other contaminants on neuropsychological development of children. These studies were able to take advantage of more sensitive and accurate chemical analyses of PCBs and related chemicals than were available in earlier studies, as well as to use information from previous studies to choose or develop behavioral outcome measures. A study in Oswego, New York, examined offspring of mothers who did or did not consume Lake Ontario fish (10), whereas studies in Germany (11) and the Netherlands (12) assessed the effects of exposure through the general food supply. All three studies 43

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reported deficits associated with developmental PCB exposure. A study in the Faroe Islands, designed to study the effects of methylmercury, also examined the effects of in utero exposure to PCBs (13). A study in the Inuit population in Arctic Canada is in the early stages (14). The epidemiological literature on the effects of PCBs on behavior in children was reviewed most recently and extensively by Schantz et al. (15), as well as in earlier publications (16,17). Congruence between studies in the types of deficits identified is good in most cases; complete agreement in every detail is not to be expected in observational studies such as these (18). This chapter is not intended to be a review of the literature, but rather a discussion of issues that require further study for optimal protection of public health.

IDENTIFICATION OF TYPES OF BEHAVIORAL DEFICITS PRODUCED BY PCB EXPOSURE The evidence that PCBs are neurotoxic is compelling. Studies in monkeys (19–23) and rats (24–32) documented deficits in a variety of neuropsychological functions as a consequence of developmental exposure to PCBs. PCBs also produce effects on neurotransmitter systems and brain metabolic processes (33–39). Comparison of exposure among epidemiological studies is not straightforward for several reasons. The early studies (Michigan, North Carolina) used older, less sensitive analytical methodology that did not determine concentrations of individual congeners. Newer studies analyzed different congeners and different numbers of congeners. In addition, PCBs were assayed in different tissues (cord blood, maternal blood, breast milk, cord tissue), with some studies measuring levels in more than one tissue. Nonetheless, a comparison was performed across studies based on normalization of data to concentrations of congener 153 in maternal serum (40). Results from the five studies designed to assess the effects of PCBs were not dissimilar, with a good deal of overlap in the range of estimated concentrations. North Carolina had the lowest median exposure (80 ng/g lipid) and Germany the highest (140 ng/g lipid). However, the accuracy of the estimates for the Michigan and North Carolina studies are less certain than those from the more recent studies. The population in the Faroe Island study, designed to assess the effects of methylmercury, had much higher PCB exposures than other studies (median 450 ng/g lipid). There is a reasonable degree of consistency in both experimental approach and findings with respect to measures of early psychomotor and cognitive development (Table 1). All the studies designed to assess the effects of PCBs—Michigan, North Carolina, Dutch, German, and Oswego—measured IQ between 3 and 5 yr of age (41–46). The American studies used the McCarthy Scales, whereas the European studies used the Kaufman Assessment Battery for Children (K-ABC). All studies except the North Carolina study reported adverse effects on cognitive performance. The Dutch study was designed to assess the contribution of prenatal exposure and exposure through breastfeeding to any observed effects. Therefore, the cohort was recruited so that half the mothers breast-fed and half did not, with half of each group recruited from Rotterdam or Gro¨ningen. Differential effects on IQ were observed in breast- and formulafed infants; effects were detected in the full cohort and formula-fed infants, but not the breast-fed group. The North Carolina, Dutch, and Oswego studies assessed neurological status during early infancy, and all found associations between prenatal exposure and infant

Vigilance task (55)

np

K-ABC (42)

McCarthy attenuated (61) Tower of London, 9 yr; Rey Complex figure test, negative (53) Vigilance task (54) simple reaction time (53) Reynell language development scale (42)

Negative McCarthy (3–5 yr) (41) np

McCarthy (45,46)

Attention/response inibition/processing speed Language

np

np

Vigilance task (119) freedom from distractibility, WISC-R (8)

Word comprehension, Woodcock Reading mastery test; reading comprehension, verbal comprehension, WISC-R (8)

Cognitive effects in later WISC-R, 11 yr (8) childhood

np

McCarthy attenuated (44) np

K-ABC attenuated (66) np

PDI (51)

MDI (50,92)

Negative (49)

Cognitive effects 4–7 yr np

K-ABC (43)

np

np

(49)

np

np

MDI (11)

np

(Continued)

McCarthy (44)

(52)

Negative (11)

np

Precchtl (12)

Eaters and noneaters of Lake Ontario fish NBAS (94)

Oswego

NBAS (based on fish consumption) (48) NBAS (91)

General population

Germany

Infant neurological status Fagan test of recognition memory Bayley scales of infant development Cognitive effects 3–4 yr

The Netherlands

General population General population, half breast-fed, half not

North Carolina

Eaters and non-eaters of Lake Michgan fish

Michigan

Summary of Identified Associations Between PCB Exposure and Adverse Neuropsychological Effects

Study population

Table 1

PCB Exposure on Neuropsychological Function 45

Vocabulary and information scores, WISC-R (8) np Rating scale (9)

Abbreviations: np, not performed; negative, no effect of PCBs.

Social behavior Activity

Memory

Michigan

np np

np

North Carolina Auditory Verbal Learning Task negative (53) CBCL (59) Rating scale, play behavior (54,60)

The Netherlands

np np

np

Germany

Table 1 Summary of Identified Associations Between PCB Exposure and Adverse Neuropsychological Effects (Continued)

np np

np

Oswego

46 Rice

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neurological status (7,12,47). The Oswego study found poorer autonomic function and failure to habituate (a measure of learning) associated with increased PCB exposure. The North Carolina and Dutch studies reported hypotonicity associated with increased PCBs; the North Carolina study reported increased abnormal reflexes, for which the Oswego study found a trend. In the Michigan study, maternal fish consumption was associated with motoric immaturity, poorer lability of states, abnormal reflexes, and a greater degree of startle (48). Cord serum levels were not predictive in the Micigan study. However, there were only a limited number of cord blood samples, particularly from highexposure infants. Four of the studies assessed performance on the Bayley Scales of Infant Development, with only the Michigan study failing to find an effect (11,49–51). Three studies used the Fagan test of visual recognition memory: Michigan (49), Oswego (52), and German (11). Effects were observed in the Michigan and Oswego studies, but not the German, possibly as a consequence of poor experimental control (11). Language development was assessed in two studies. The Dutch study found adverse effects of in utero exposure to PCBs in formula-fed infants using the Reynell Language Development Scale (42). The Michigan study found negative effects on verbal IQ, verbal comprehension, and reading ability at 11 yr of age (8). Effects were not observed in the Dutch study on the Auditory Verbal Learning Test (53), which is not a test of language function per se, but assesses short-and longer-term memory for word recall. Performance on a vigilance task was assessed in three studies at various ages between 3.5 and 11 yr. The Dutch (54), Oswego (55), and Michigan studies (56) all found effects related to PCB exposure: in fact, all three studies found increased errors of commission (failure of response inhibition). The Michigan investigators also found a decreased number correct responses and increased errors of commission at four years of age on the Sternberg Memory paradigm, a computerized test of working memory that allows responding to digits not on a sample list (57). The Oswego study also reported an interaction between the size of the corpus collosum (a major brain fiber tract subserving interhemispheric communication) and increased PCB body burden on errors of commission (55). The Dutch investigators found increased response latencies and more variable latencies on a simple reaction time task related to increased PCB exposure at nine years of age (53). This task is similar to the vigilance task, but does not provide the opportunity to respond on incorrect stimuli (errors of commission). No information was provided on failure to respond to the target. The effects observed on the vigilance task are indicative of deficits in “executive function,” the ability to organize behavior in time and space. The Dutch investigators found deficits in spatial executive function on the Tower of London in their cohort at nine years of age (53). No effects of PCB exposure were found on the Rey Complex Fig. Task, which assesses visuospatial organization and memory. The Michigan investigators reported increased perseverative errors on the Wisconsin Card Sort test at 11 yr, as well as deficits in attention on the Digit Cancellation task (57). The Michigan study also reported slower reaction time on a mental rotation task (57), which in the absence of effects on accuracy in this task or reaction time on other tasks, may be considered to be a consequence of a deficit in response organization, again indicative of a problem with executive function. However, no effects were observed in this cohort on the Stroop Color-Word Test, another test of executive function. Observed effects were associated with prenatal and not postnatal exposure. Both the Dutch (54) and the Michigan (58) studies found changes in activity. The Michigan study reported a decrease in activity at 4 yr as assessed by the rating of three adults. The Dutch study reported increased activity as assessed by a parents’ rating scale, but a decrease in free play behavior, at 3.5 yr of age.

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The Dutch study also assessed problem behavior using the Child Behavior Check List (CBCL) (59) at 3.5 yr. They reported effects on the internalizing, withdrawn/ depressed and aggressive scales, but not oppositional or overactive scales. Scores on the anxious scale were borderline. Sexually dimorphic play behavior was examined in the Dutch cohort at 7.5 yr using the Pre-School Activity Inventory to test the hypothesis that PCBs and dioxins exert effects on behavior via endocrine disruption (60). Prenatal PCB concentrations were associated with less masculinized play behavior in boys and more masculinized behavior in girls, whereas higher prenatal dioxin levels were associated with more feminized play behavior in both boys and girls. An important issue that has been examined in the Dutch and Michigan studies is the possibility of effect modification: specifically, the salutary effects of an advantaged home environment in reducing the adverse effects of PCBs on children’s development. In the Dutch study, effects were observed on the K-ABC at 3.5 yr in formula-fed but not breast-fed infants (42). These findings were originally attributed to the nutritional benefits of breastfeeding. However, they are more likely the result of the fact that mothers with a higher socio-economic status and education breast-feed their babies longer. The Dutch study found negative effects at 6.5 yr of age on the McCarthy Scales in less- but not moreadvantaged children (61). Analyses revealed that it was because formula-fed infants were from less advantaged homes, and not the formula-versus-breast-fed dichotomy per se, that accounted for the difference in performance on the McCarthy Scales (61). Similarly, the Michigan investigators found that effects on IQ at four and 11 yr were present in infants breast-fed fewer than 6 wk, but not those breast-fed more than 6 wk (62). As in the Dutch study, the Michigan investigators reported that the lack of association between PCB exposure and IQ at 4 or 11 yr of age in breast-fed babies could be accounted for by statistically by quality of parental intellectual input, and that adverse effects were strongest in children of less verbally competent mothers (63,64). The findings in these studies are consistent with studies in lead-exposed children, in which adverse effects were greater in less advantaged children (65). It appears that high-quality parental care may ameliorate, or at least attenuate, the effects of neurotoxic agents. The German investigators studied the effects of home environment and PCB exposure independently. They reported that HOME score was positively associated with mental and motor development on the Bayley Scales at 30 mo and on the K-ABC at 42 mo, whereas increasing milk PCB concentrations were associated with poorer performance, when each variable was adjusted for the other (43). At 72 mo, effects of the HOME score were still a predictor of positive outcome on the K-ABC in this relatively advantaged population (66). The effects of PCBs were no longer significant based on 70 children (less than half the original cohort), although the direction was still negative. The Faroe Islands study, which was designed to study the effects of in utero methylmercury exposure, did not include early development assessment, nor was IQ measured. Instead, a number of domain-specific functions were assessed at seven years of age (67). Only limited effects of PCBs were found prior to control for methylmercury exposure (13) despite the high PCB concentrations (40). A negative association was found between cord tissue PCB levels and performance on the Boston Naming Test, a test of language development. This is consistent with the effects on language in the Dutch and Michigan studies. Effects were also found on a continuous performance test. No effects of PCBs were found on any endpoint in the Faroe Islands study after controlling for methylmercury exposure, although there was some indication of effects on several endpoints in children in the highest tertile with respect to methylmercury. Conclusions. It appears, based on information presently available, that the effects of PCB on IQ, identified at 3–4 yr of age, attenuate or disappear as the child reaches school

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age in studies begun in the 1990s. It is unknown whether effects will reappear, as was the case for lead in the Cincinnati study (68,69). It also seems, however, that children from less advantaged homes may still be vulnerable to effects of PCBs on IQ at school age. Investigators of the various studies have assessed measures other than IQ in a somewhat individualistic manner, and have identified behavior domains affected by PCBs that require more detailed investigation to characterize effects. One area is that of executive functions: attention, temporal and spatial organization of behavior, and response inhibition. Deficits on spatial tasks have been observed in rats (25,26,29,70), and failure of response inhibition and poor temporal organization of behavior have been observed as a consequence of PCB exposure in monkeys (19,20). Adverse effects in these domains have been observed in the modern PCB studies, but require fuller characterization. Perseverative behavior was observed at 11 yr of age in the Michigan cohort (56). Perseverative behavior as a consequence of PCB exposure in animals was observed in monkeys (21). It is important to assess perseverative behavior in the newer studies in which exposures are lower than those observed in the Michigan study. Another area that requires exploration is social- and antisocial- behavior. Poorer outcome on the CBCL suggests that these children may be at risk for increased criminality in the future, as was the case for lead (71–73). The effects of PCBs and dioxins on masculinization or feminization of play behavior suggests that the potential behavioral consequences of effects on sex hormones should be pursued. Effects of contaminants on social interactions and behavioral consequences of perturbation of sex hormones have been little studied, yet are vitally important to the functioning of the individual in society.

CHOICE OF CONGENERS AND TISSUE COMPARTMENT AS DETERMINANTS OF EXPOSURE PCBs are a mixture of as many as 209 congeners with varying degrees and patterns of toxicity. The fingerprint of PCB congeners in human tissue following environmental exposure is reasonably consistent between populations (74), although there may be differences resulting from sources and recency of exposure (75). It is vitally important to understand the relative potency and pattern of deficits produced by different congeners or congener classes on nervous system function and development to provide the best advice for protection of public health. It is also important to understand in which tissue(s) determination of PCB concentrations provides the best predictor of neurotoxicity. The more recent studies had the opportunity to perform congener-specific analysis using sensitive analytical methodology. Investigators used different strategies regarding which PCB congeners and tissues to analyze. The Oswego study measured 68 congeners or congener pairs in cord blood, with no analysis of maternal blood (10). Breast milk was analyzed from a small subset of women at varying times during the first six months following delivery, thereby essentially obviating the possibility of assessing any effects of postnatal exposure via breast milk. The most highly chlorinated PCB congeners (C 7–9) were predictive of fish consumption, whereas the lower chlorinated homologs (C 1–3 or 4–6) were not. In addition, for most measures the most highly chlorinated congeners were a better predictor of performance than total PCBs or lower chlorinated homologs during infancy (10,47,52) and early childhood (44). The Oswego study did not measure dioxins, and only measured two of the less potent dioxin-like PCB congeners (105 and 118). However, because body burdens of these two congeners may represent a substantial percentage of dioxin-like congeners, they can represent a large proportion of the total toxic equivalency quotient (TEQ) (76).

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Only the Dutch study focused on discriminating effects of total PCBs from those of dioxins and dioxin-like PCBs on neuropsychological function. Dioxin-like compounds are those that activate the aryl hydrocarbon (Ah) receptor as a mechanism of action for producing toxic effects. The relative potency compared to 2,3,7,8-tetrachlorinated dibenzo-p-dioxin (TCDD, the most potent dioxin) has been determined by an international committee for the dozen dioxin-like PCB congeners as well as other chemicals that act through Ah receptor activation (77). Individual toxic equivalency factors (TEFs) can be combined into an overall TEQ to estimate the “dioxin-like” potency of a mixture. The Dutch investigators measured, in both maternal and cord blood, the four congeners that typically are found at the highest concentrations in human tissue (congeners 118, 138, 153, and 180) (51). They also measured 17 dioxins and furans, 6 coplanar or mono-ortho coplanar (dioxin-like) PCB congeners, and 20 ortho-substituted congeners in breast milk shortly after birth from the half of the mothers who breast-fed their infants. PCBs and other lipid-soluble chemicals are at higher concentrations in milk than blood, so that sampling of breast milk allowed analysis of more congeners with greater accuracy. The dioxins, furans, and dioxin-like congeners were used to calculate dioxin TEQs separately, or as a total TEQ. This provided the opportunity to determine the association between performance and concentrations of dioxins, dioxin-like- and non-dioxin-like PCBs in breast-fed infants, as well as the sum of the four congeners in maternal and cord blood and breast milk in the full cohort. In general, maternal blood PCB levels were the best predictors of performance measures on the Bayley Scales during infancy (51), and the K-ABC at 3.5 yr of age (42). The sum of PCBs in cord blood was predictive of five outcomes, whereas maternal blood PCB levels were predictive of nine outcomes. This may well be due to the higher levels in maternal compared to cord blood, allowing more accurate measurement of PCB concentrations. PCB levels in milk and milk TEQ were both predictive of only one measure in early assessments: neurological status during infancy (12,51). Similarly, planar, mono-ortho, or dioxin TEQ were not predictive of free play behavior, performance on a vigilance task, or activity according to a parents’ questionnaire at 3.5 yr (54). Total TEQ, dioxin-TEQ, and planar PCB TEQ were each predictive of a more adverse score on the internalizing scale of the CBCL, whereas the sum of the four congeners measured in maternal or cord blood were not (59). All measures were predictive of adverse scores on the withdrawal/depressed scale. In a subsequent study on play behavior, all four measures were predictive of differential behavior in boys and girls: dioxin TEQ in milk predicted more feminized play behavior in both sexes, whereas the sum of the four PCB congeners in cord or maternal blood predicted less masculinized behavior in boys and the sum of the four PCB congeners in milk predicted more masculinized behavior in girls (60). Performance on the Tower of London was assessed at nine years in half the cohort (from Rotterdam but not Gro¨ningen) (53). Higher levels of the four congeners measured in maternal plasma were associated with longer and more variable response times on a simple reaction time task, and lower scores on the Tower of London. Other exposure variables (e.g., cord blood or TEQ) were not compared in this publication. The German study only measured three congeners (153, 138, and 180) in cord plasma. They also measured these congeners in breast milk at 2 and 4 wk postpartum, which were combined to yield a single value. Adverse effects were associated with milk PCB levels on early infant psychomotor and memory tests (11) and performance on the K-ABC at 3.5 yr (43). The authors considered milk PCB concentrations to be a more accurate measure of prenatal exposure than cord blood, since levels are much higher and therefore presumably analyzed more accurately. This contrasts with the Dutch study, however, in which cord (but particularly maternal) blood PCB concentrations predicted

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51

cognitive performance at 3.5 yr, but milk levels, taken on the half of the cohort that breast fed, did not. The Faroe Islands study measured five congeners in cord tissue in half the cohort only (118, 138, 153, 170, and 180), but used only 138, 153, and 180 as exposure markers (13), precluding exploration of issues related to optimal markers of exposure. This issue has been little explored in animals. In a series of studies in rats with dioxin (TCDD) and five PCB congeners with or without dioxin-like properties (28, 118, 153, 77, 95), Schantz and colleagues (25,26,70) found all to be neurotoxic, but with different patterns of impairment on the two tasks examined. Rice and colleagues (78–82), on the other hand, reported minimal neurotoxicity following developmental exposure to congener 126, whereas effects were observed in other organ systems. Conclusions. The issue of which congeners are producing toxicity is an important one for public health. It appears from the Dutch study that TEQ in breast milk did not predict performance on most outcome measures early in life, but then neither did non-dioxin-like congeners in breast milk. TEQ was predictive of outcome on non-cognitive endpoints at 3.5 yr of age, and on the masculine/feminine dimension of play behavior at 6.5 yr. The Oswego study measured a reasonable number of congeners, but did not include most dioxin-like PCBs, including the most potent congeners, 126 and 169; therefore, there is not the opportunity to determine whether TEQ is predictive of performance. In the Oswego study, the more highly chlorinated PCBs best predicted performance, but that may be because these congeners are more reliably analyzed than lower-chlorinated congeners because of lack of interference from other chemicals. Both the German and Faroe Islands studies used only three congeners as markers of exposure. The question of whether some congeners are more toxic than others (although this may be assumed), and which those may be, remains largely unaddressed in epidemioloigcal studies. Although only measuring a few congeners may provide a reasonable indication of PCB body burden, such a strategy runs the risk of failing to adequately monitor the congeners or congener classes associated with toxicity. The Oswego study found that total PCBs, even based on 68 congeners, was often not predictive of outcome, whereas highly chlorinated PCBs were. Similarly, the Dutch investigators found that dioxin TEQ predicted some effects that the four congeners used as a surrogate for total PCBs did not. It is also unclear which tissue may be the best to use for PCB determination. The Dutch study suggests that maternal blood in preference to cord blood or milk is a better predictor, at least through early childhood, whereas the German study indicates that milk may be preferable to cord blood. The Oswego study measured only cord blood but multiple congeners, and found effects on numerous endpoints. With current knowledge, it is not possible to recommend one tissue over another; the best strategy is to measure all three compartments.

DETERMINATION OF EFFECTS OF MULTIPLE CHEMICALS IN ADDITION TO PCBS A reality that must be addressed in the evaluation of effects of PCBs on neuropsychological function in children is the fact that all of us are exposed to multiple contaminants, from conception (or pre-conception) onward. Exposures to other chemicals can serve as confounders or effect modifiers. In some instances, the degree of collinearity may be sufficiently high that effects of PCBs cannot be differentiated from those of other chemicals.

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No study can measure every chemical believed to possibly be relevant when the study is planned, and the list is constantly expanding. (For example, there is increasing concern about the effects of brominated flame retardants, which are bioaccumulated, bioconcentrated, persistent, and may have many of the same adverse health effects as PCBs. These chemicals were not of concern when the studies under discussion were planned and implemented.) Investigators are forced to choose which co-contaminants may be the most relevant for their study population. Different decisions concerning which and how many chemicals to measure have been made in various studies, making comparison between studies sometimes difficult. Lead is a known neurotoxicant, and exposure is ubiquitous in industrialized countries. All investigators have measured blood lead concentrations in the children. Since lead was not the focus of the study, however, exposure was not necessarily measured as accurately as other contaminants. For example, the Oswego study obtained cord blood lead concentrations from the full cohort, but only a single lead measurement from a subset of the cohort during early childhood. The Michigan study measured blood lead levels in the children at four and 11 yr of age (8). Other studies only measured cord blood, including the German (43), Inuit (14) and Faroe Island (67) studies. The Dutch study measured blood lead and cadmium concentrations of the children at 18 mo of age (83). Blood lead concentrations during early childhood, not cord blood lead, is the best predictor of performance at school age (84,85). Since the correlation between lead and PCBs is presumably low in all recent studies, it is unlikely to be a confounder of the effects of PCBs. However, controlling for lead, particularly childhood lead levels, may have strengthened or revealed effects of PCBs in some studies. Measuring lead concentrations at appropriate ages would have the ancillary benefit of allowing exploration of the effects of lead on the endpoints under study, as was done in additional analyses of the Michigan study (57). In addition, lead and PCBs have similar effects on synaptic plasticity in brain slices (86), suggesting the possibility of interactive effects. Methylmercury is another known developmental neurotoxicant that may be associated with adverse effects in PCB studies. Co-exposure could be particularly important in studies in fish-eating populations. The Michigan study was criticized for not measuring body burdens of methylmercury (or mercury) (87), since Lake Michigan fish are known to be contaminated with methylmercury. The Oswego study, designed as a replicate of the Michigan study, did measure methylmercury in maternal hair sectioned to correspond with the first and second half of pregnancy (52). The Faroe Islands study was designed to study the effects of methylmercury, not PCBs, and analyzed both maternal hair and cord blood for total mercury (67). (In contrast, PCB concentrations were measured in cord tissue in half the cohort.) The Inuit study also measured mercury in cord and maternal blood, as well as hair sectioned to represent each of the three trimesters of pregnancy (14), in recognition of relatively high exposure to methylmercury in the Arctic. Neither the Dutch nor German studies measured methylmercury concentrations. There has been considerable discussion concerning whether blood or hair mercury is a better measure of exposure: the National Academy of Sciences report on the health effects of methylmercury expressed the opinion that both were good (88). However, the Faroe Islands study found cord blood to be a better predictor than maternal hair, at least as assessed by p-values (67). PCB and methylmercury levels are unlikely to be so highly correlated in either fish-eater or general population studies that effects cannot be differentiated. In the Oswego study, which recruited consumers of Lake Ontario fish, the two contaminants were not highly correlated (rZC0.11) (44), probably because fish is the only source of methylmercury exposure, whereas there are of many dietary sources of PCB exposure. In addition, PCB and methylmercury levels are not necessarily highly correlated even

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in fish. Methylmercury concentrations in fish in Lake Ontario are relatively low, and methylmercury body burdens are also low in the cohort. Methylmercury has not been found to be a predictor of performance on most endpoints, although a mercury-PCB interaction was identified on the McCarthy Scales at 3.5 yr of age (44). A possible influence of methylmercury on the effects of PCBs was reported in the Faroe Islands study, in which PCB and mercury body burdens are both relatively high, with a correlation of about 0.4 based on wet-weight PCB concentrations (89). There was no statistical evidence for an interaction between methylmercury and PCBs when regression analyses for effects of methylmercury were performed separately according to PCB tertiles (89). However, there was some evidence that the effects of PCBs on several measures were only present in children in the highest tertile respect to methylmercury (67). Methylmercury exposure was not measured in the North Carolina, German, or Dutch studies. Because PCB exposure in these populations was through the general food supply, the correlation between PCBs and methylmercury may have been low. However, as with lead, failure to measure methylmercury in these studies is a missed opportunity to assess potential interactions of PCBs and another important neurotoxicant. Of perhaps greatest importance for interpretation of PCB studies is the inclusion (or not) of the measurement of other lipophilic chemicals. The source of PCBs in humans is consumption of fatty animal products, which is also the source of other lipophilic contaminants. These chemicals therefore may be highly correlated within individuals. Of perhaps the most concern is dioxins and the related furans. Dioxins affect behavior in animal models (27,90). It would seem important, therefore, to measure dioxins (and furans) in addition to dioxin-like PCB congeners. The only study to do so thus far has been the Dutch study, in which dioxin TEQ and the sum of PCBs in breast milk, and maternal blood or cord blood were each used as exposure measures (see section on choice of congeners). Differential effects were related to total PCBs, dioxin, and/or PCB TEQ on a number of outcome measures. Pesticides are another class of neurotoxic chemicals that may interact with PCBs in producing adverse health consequences. DDE was not found to be associated with effects in the Oswego study on infant neurological status or performance on the McCarthy Scales at 36 or 54 mo (44). On the Fagan test of infant recognition memory, DDE was significantly associated with performance in the univariate analysis, but not after controlling for PCBs (52). The North Carolina study assessed effects of prenatal exposure to PCBs and DDE without controlling for the other chemical. They reported that both chemicals were associated with adverse outcome on the Brazelton Neonatal Behavioral Assessment Scales (91), whereas on the Bayley Scales, PCBs predicted poorer performance at 6 and 12 mo and DDE predicted better performance at six months (92). The correlation between PCB and DDE in breast milk was 0.23 (93), so that failure to include the alternate chemical in the statistical analyses ignored a potential confounder. The Faroe Islands study is less clear with regard to possible effects of DDE. In a paper reporting the effects of PCBs (13), tissue concentrations of both PCBs and DDE were reported. Univariate analyses of the association of DDE and performance were apparently performed, and the authors stated that “[b]ecause of.collinearity, the regression coefficients of [DDE] were very similar to those for.PCB (data not shown).” Results were not provided. DDE was not included as a covariate in the PCB analyses. One is left with the conclusion that both PCBs and DDE were significant predictors of outcome. It may not have been possible to disentangle the effects of DDE and PCBs, but the paper does not adequately report the findings of the study. In contrast, in a subsequent

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cohort study in the Faroe Islands, methylmercury was a significant predictor of poorer infant neurological status, whereas PCBs and DDE were not (94). The Oswego study also measured mirex and hexachlorobenzene, which were not found to be predictive of performance. The Inuit study measured a total of 11 pesticides, including DDT and DDE. The Inuit study failed to find an association between neurological status in early infancy and multiple pesticides, including DDT/DDE, whereas adverse effects were associated with PCBs (95). The Michigan study measured seven organochlorine pesticides, which were unrelated to performance, as were PBBs (9). Other studies have not measured pesticide body burdens, so whether pesticide exposure is producing effects in these cohorts, including possibly interacting with PCBs, is unknown. Conclusions. From the results of studies to date, several inferences may be made. Based on the Dutch study, it appears that the effects of non-dioxin-like PCBs may often be distinguishable from those of dioxins and dioxin-like PCBs as determined by TEQ. However, since this is the only study to examine this issue, definite conclusions cannot be drawn. It also appears that, at the low body burdens of methylmercury present in the Oswego study, there is not usually an interaction between methylmercury and PCBs. However, there may be an interaction when body burdens of both contaminants are high, as in the Faroe Islands cohort. Body burdens of lead have generally been low in recent studies, and not associated with effects. The Oswego study is the only recent study to publish an assessment of the effects of multiple pesticides on neuropsychological function, and no effects related to pesticide body burden have been found. It appears that the contribution of effects from other chemicals has not compromised the ability to interpret the effects of PCBs in these cohorts. It is nonetheless important to continue to measure multiple contaminants in any new studies, and to continue to include measured contaminants in analyses as potential confounders or co-contributors to neurotoxicity. In addition, the relative contribution of PCBs and dioxins to neurotoxicity, and the types of deficits produced by each, is an important issue that requires much more research.

CONTRIBUTION OF POSTNATAL EFFECTS TO NEUROTOXICITY Since PCBs are lipophilic, there are much higher concentrations in breast milk relative to maternal or cord blood. Babies who breast feed for even a few weeks receive much larger amounts of PCBs via nursing than they received in utero (96,97), and blood PCB levels during childhood are largely reflective of exposure through breast milk (98,99). Breast milk PCB concentrations decrease rapidly over several weeks as the infant nurses; the best way for a woman to decrease her own store of PCBs is to breast feed (76,91,100,101). Since developmental processes in the nervous system are ongoing well after birth (102), it seems reasonable that postnatal PCB exposure should have an effect. It was therefore somewhat puzzling that early studies reported effects associated with prenatal but not postnatal exposure on infant and early childhood neuropsychological development (7,8,45,46,49,50,58,92,103). The Dutch study is best suited to examine the contribution of postnatal exposure to behavioral outcome: since it was designed specifically to assess the effects of exposure through breastfeeding versus in utero exposure, half the cohort was breast-fed for at least 6 wk and half was not breast-fed at all. Breast-fed infants performed better on neurological assessments during infancy (51), but this may be the result of the more advantaged social environment of the infants that were breast-fed rather than breastfeeding per se (61). Postnatal TEQ, but not measures of prenatal exposure, was associated with poorer performance on the Bayley PDI at seven months, negating the positive effects of

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breastfeeding at higher exposures (51). Prenatal exposure was negatively associated with performance on the Bayley PDI at three months, the neurological optimality score at 18 mo, and outcome on a neurological examination at two weeks (12,51). Effects on early neuropsychological function and cognitive performance at 3.5 or 6.5 yr were reported to be related to prenatal exposure but not postnatal exposure (42,61). Significant associations were observed between the concurrent blood level of the child and increased reaction time on a vigilance task, more hyperactive behavior, and poorer attention at 3.5 yr in the breast-fed group (54). PCB blood levels of breast-fed infants were considerably higher than formula-fed infants, and are presumably largely the result of breastfeeding (97,98). An interesting strategy for the determination of pre-versus postnatal effects was adopted by the Dutch investigators in an assessment of performance on domain-specific tasks at 9 yr (53). They divided the Rotterdam half of the cohort into six groups: formula-fed, low or high prenatal exposure as assessed by maternal blood levels; breast-fed for less than 16 wk, low or high prenatal exposure; and breast-fed for more than 16 wk, low or high prenatal exposure. On the Tower of London, there was evidence of prenatal effects (formula-fed high vs. low) as well as a postnatal effect (breast-fed low vs. formula-fed low). There was a marginal effect of breast-fed long versus breast-fed short, and other comparisons were as would be expected (breast-fed short or long vs. formula-fed). On a simple reaction-time task, only prenatal exposure was predictive of performance. The German study measured three congeners in breast milk and cord blood, and recorded weeks of breastfeeding. They reported a negative association between prenatal exposure, as measured by breast milk but not cord blood PCB concentrations, and performance on the Bayley at 30 mo and the K-ABC at 42 mo (43). They also reported a negative effect of postnatal exposure on cognitive performance on the K-ABC at 42 mo of age, measured either by the child’s concurrent blood PCB concentration or breast milk concentration X weeks of breastfeeding. Potential effects of postnatal exposure were apparently not assessed before 42 mo. Based on 70 children (fewer than half the original cohort), effects of neither milk PCB levels (maternal exposure) nor the child’s concurrent blood PCB concentration (postnatal exposure) were significantly associated with the mental processing composite scale of the K-ABC at 72 mo of age, although the trend was negative for both (66). In the Michigan study, prenatal exposure as measured by umbilical cord blood was associated with poorer performance during infancy and at four years of age (45,46,49,62,103). In contrast, exposure via breastfeeding as determined by breast milk PCB concentration X weeks of breastfeeding was not predictive of cognitive performance. However, decreased activity as rated by three adults was associated with postnatal exposure through breastfeeding at four years of age (9). Measures of IQ, attention, and memory were associated with a composite marker of prenatal exposure including cord and maternal blood and breast milk PCB concentrations at 4 and 11 yr (8,57). In a reexamination of the effects at 4 and 11 yr (63), effects were observed on nine of 21 outcome measures in infants breast-fed fewer than six weeks, and on two different measures in infants breast-fed more than six weeks. These latter effects (reaction time on a mental rotation task and errors on the Seashore Rhythm test) may be chance findings, or may reflect an influence of postnatal exposure. In the Michigan study, prenatal exposure was measured by cord blood and/or breast milk PCB concentrations. One breast milk sample was collected within 4.5 mo postpartum, with a median of one month (57). Postnatal exposure was calculated by the measured concentration in breast milk X weeks of breastfeeding. The presumably large variability in time of collection would result in significant exposure misclassification, given that PCB milk concentrations would change dramatically over the first several

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months of breastfeeding. Control for prenatal exposure was included in the postnatal analyses, and the child’s blood PCB concentration at four years was used as a control variable in the prenatal analyses in the re-analyses (63). There was no information concerning how many blood samples were above the limit of detection with the old methodology available at the time the study was performed. However, the mean and standard deviations appeared similar to those of cord blood, in which 70% of samples were below the limit of detection. It is therefore likely that the control for concurrent body burden on prenatal effects was relatively poor. In contrast, prenatal exposure was measured by a composite of breast milk, maternal serum, and cord serum levels at 4 and 11 yr, and so was likely a more accurate indicator of prenatal exposure than a child’s blood PCB concentration at 4 yr was an indicator of postnatal exposure (see comments below on over-controlling). No effects were attributed to postnatal exposure as measured by the child’s concurrent blood PCB level, after controlling for prenatal exposure. Conclusions. Several design issues are relevant to the ability of studies performed to date to identify effects of postnatal exposure. Two of the three modern studies (Dutch, German) measured PCB levels in milk taken shortly after birth. The Dutch study collected only one sample, whereas the German study collected milk at two and four weeks postpartum, and averaged them to derive a measure of PCB milk concentration. Both studies multiplied a PCB concentration X weeks of breastfeeding to estimate exposure through breastfeeding. Neither study collected sequential samples beginning within a day or so of birth and ascertained the PCB “wash-out” curve, which is presumably exponential and with an unknown half-time (either in terms of central tendency or on an individual basis). Multiplying one value X weeks of exposure would result in exposure misclassification, which may be substantial if there was a large variability in the length of time of breastfeeding (such that babies stopped exposure at different points on a rather steep wash-out curve). Exposure misclassification of course biases results toward not finding an effect even if there is one. The North Carolina study considered the decline in breast milk concentrations over the duration of breast feeding in the estimation of exposure through breast milk. They sampled milk at birth and several times thereafter. The average percent decrease in milk PCB levels across time based on all women, with linear extrapolation between time points, was used in the estimation of total PCB intake (93). Lack of sufficient data from individual women precluded modeling wash-out curves for individuals (Gladen, personal communication). While not an optimum strategy, this approach is an improvement over other studies in that it incorporated at least an approximation of the decrease in breast milk levels over time. The North Carolina study did not find any effect of PCBs on the McCarthy Scales at 3–5 yr. Further testing was not performed, so that the possibility that postnatal exposure may have predicted effects later in childhood could not be explored. The Dutch and German studies measured blood PCB concentration of the child concurrent with testing at 3.5 yr. Both studies reported effects associated with the child’s concurrent PCB body burden, which is largely the result of exposure through breast milk (97,98). However, this measure too is an imprecise indicator of the child’s exposure during infancy. It is not known whether the child’s body burden at the time of testing (reflecting ongoing effects of exposure to PCBs) or accurate determination of early postnatal exposure would have been the best predictor of performance. The second issue that might result in an underestimation of the effects of breastfeeding is the fact that the effects of breastfeeding were generally assessed controlling for in utero exposure, using blood and/or breast milk concentrations. First, in utero and postnatal exposure via breast milk will be highly correlated, even given that mothers breast feed for different lengths of time, since breast milk is highest following

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delivery and decreases markedly over a few weeks. Therefore, the early and highest exposure shortly after birth is essentially eliminated from statistical analysis by this procedure, leaving the inaccurate single concentration X weeks of feeding as the measure of postnatal exposure. This analytic strategy is based on the assumption that the primary contribution to any observed deficits will always be in utero exposure. Although it is established that in utero exposure may produce adverse effects (from infants not breast-fed) the strategy of controlling for in utero exposure may represent overcontrolling. The most recent analysis by the Dutch investigators avoided this dilemma by dichotomizing maternal PCB concentration and duration of breastfeeding, eliminating the temptation to control for prenatal exposure when examining the effects of breastfeeding (60). The importance of the contribution of PCBs from breastfeeding to performance is still very much an open question. We do not know how important exposure to PCBs through breastfeeding may be, nor do we understand the interaction of PCB exposure with the benefits of breastfeeding on neuropsychological development. We also do not have much understanding of what kinds of behaviors may be affected by postnatal exposure to PCBs. Although the Dutch study did not find effects of postnatal exposure on cognition at 3.5 yr, the German study did. The Dutch study did find an effect on executive function associated with postnatal exposure at nine years of age, however. Effects on the child’s concurrent blood levels were also associated with other endpoints in the Dutch study. Moreover, the Oswego study did not provide the opportunity to examine postnatal effects, so that the emphasis on prenatal exposure as the important (or only) contributor to adverse outcome may be misleading.

DETERMINATION OF THE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN EXPOSURE AND EFFECT There is no information published to date on the shape of the relationship between exposure of the infant (or child) to PCBs and performance on any measure. It is unknown whether the relationship is best fit by a linear model, which would suggest that there is no threshold within the range of body burdens studied, or whether it is sublinear (shallower slope at lower body burdens), suggesting that there is a threshold of body burden below which there does not appear to be an adverse effect. This is of vital importance to our understanding of the potential burden for society that ubiquitous exposure to PCBs may produce. Investigators of these studies performed analyses to determine whether there was a statistical association between exposure and performance on one or more measures, which is the standard form of analysis. In contrast to PCBs, the shape of the exposureeffect relationship, and whether there may be a threshold, has been studied for the neurotoxicants lead and methylmercury, both by individual investigators (104–106) and government agencies (88,107–109). For those neurotoxicants, there is evidence that the relationship may be supralinear: i.e. a relatively steeper slope, and therefore greater relative effect, at lower body burdens than higher. Some limited information may be gleaned from graphic representation of data in publications. For example, in the Dutch study, performance on the K-ABC was represented graphically in five categories (42). For all scores (overall cognitive, sequential processing, and simultaneous processing), all four of the higher groups performed more poorly than the lowest group (sum PCB in maternal plasma !1.5 ppb). Information is not available concerning performance in the lowest category, so no conclusions may be drawn concerning possible threshold. Similarly, there appears to be a more-or-less monotonic

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relationship in the Oswego study between increased PCB cord blood levels (those with values below the limit of detection, compared to other groups,) for performance on the McCarthy General Cognitive Index, Perceptual and Quantitative Scales (44). In the German study, the second quintile with respect to PCB milk levels appears unimpaired relative to the lowest quintile on the Bayley Scales at 30 or 42 mo (43), suggestive of a threshold. Such ad hoc divination by the reader of course is thoroughly inadequate in determining the association between body burden and effect. The Michigan investigators have performed a Bench Mark Dose (BMD) analysis of four outcomes measured at 11 yr of age (110). This analysis is useful for risk assessment, in that it calculates an exposure (body burden) associated with a defined risk, which can then serve as the starting point for deriving an acceptable intake level. The issue of the shape of the exposure-effect relationship was not explored, however: a linear relationship was apparently assumed. The failure on the part of most investigators to determine the relationship between exposure and effect represents a serious gap in the information required to formulate public health policy.

THYROID HORMONES AS A POTENTIAL MEDIATOR OF NEUROTOXIC EFFECTS Developmental PCB exposure affects circulating thyroid levels in both mother and offspring (111), and effects on thyroid function have been postulated as a mechanism for PCB neurotoxicity. Schantz et al. (112) reported no correlation between degree of thyroid suppression in blood and neurotoxicity following exposure to various congeners in rats. Moreover, the pattern of behavioral effects was different for different congeners, suggesting that even if thyroid suppression is contributing to the behavioral effects, it cannot be the only mechanism. The Dutch study is the only environmental epidemiological study to measure levels of circulating thyroid hormone. They found decreased concentrations of T3 and/or T4 in mothers before and after delivery, and decreased infant T3 and increased TSH at both two weeks and three months of age (113). Effects were associated with TEQ in breast milk. It is unknown whether the effects on circulating thyroid hormones were correlated with performance on any measure. Whereas it is clear that thyroid hormones are important for neurological development (111,114), the degree to which suppression of thyroid hormones by PCBs mediates neurotoxicity, if at all, at environmental exposures is unknown. However, as pointed out by Zoeller (115), the relationship between relevant events in the brain and circulating levels of thyroid hormones in the blood may be weak at best, so that elucidation of this issue is probably best pursued in experimental studies.

SUMMARY AND OVERALL CONCLUSIONS 1. There is good congruence between studies demonstrating that prenatal exposure to PCBs is associated with adverse effects on early neuromotor development and measures of IQ in early childhood. In the Michigan study, effects on IQ were still present at 11 yr of age. In newer studies, effects on IQ attenuated at 4–6 yr of age. However, there is evidence that effects on IQ continue: specifically, that

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3.

4.

5.

6.

7.

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effects are present in children with less advantaged but not more advantaged home environments. In addition, the Dutch investigators reported effects on executive function at nine years of age. Effects have been observed on behavioral domains in addition to cognition. Deficits in attention and failure of response inhibition have been observed in several studies. Differences in activity level, play behavior, and a clinical scale of problem behavior were documented in the Dutch study. Most non-cognitive effects have been studied in early childhood, and whether effects will still be observed as the children age is unknown. However, the Dutch investigators reported differences in sexually dimorphic play behavior at 6.5 yr of age. Measurement of IQ in the studies discussed here should continue, and newer studies (such as the Inuit) should include measures of IQ. It is not yet established that effects on IQ disappear with age. It is also important to assess additional functional domains: attention, impulsivity, language processing, and social and sexually dimorphic behaviors. There is currently some evidence for effects on these domains, but effects need to be fully characterized. This may be especially important since some of the effects associated with PCB exposure are similar to those produced by lead: deficits in attention (116) and impulse control (117), perseveration on the Wisconsin Card Sort Test (118), and abnormal scores on the CBCL (72). Deficits in these functional domains may contribute to increased criminality, suggesting that similar consequences may be associated with PCB exposure as the children get older. The shape of the relationship between exposure (body burden) and effects is unknown. It is not determined whether there is evidence for a threshold within the range of body burdens of individuals in these studies, or conversely, whether effects are actually relatively greater at lower body burdens. This issue is of vital importance for public health policy decisions. The relative potency of specific congeners or congener classes to produce neurotoxic effects is unknown. The epidemiological studies have been unelucidating in this regard, and only a few congeners have been explored in animal models. It might be fruitful to model dose-effect functions for individual congeners or congener classes from current studies that measured a sufficient number of congeners (Dutch, Oswego). The contribution of the effects of other chemicals in addition to PCBs is not well characterized. There is some evidence, particularly for the Faroe Islands study, that PCBs and methylmercury may interact to produce neurotoxicity. There does not appear to be an adverse effect of DDE or other pesticides assessed in the Oswego study. Results from the Inuit study, which measured a number of pesticides, are yet to be published. The issue of the contribution of dioxin, and dioxin-like PCBs, is of considerable importance, and has only been examined in the Dutch study. Results suggest that for some types of outcomes, TEQ, including only planar PCB TEQ, may be predictive of outcome, whereas total PCB concentration is not. The relative importance of postnatal exposure to observed effects is inadequately examined. There have not been accurate data collected on postnatal exposure during infancy. Even so, the two modern studies that have determined PCB blood level of the child have reported effects related to concurrent body burden. In addition, the Dutch investigators observed effects associated with duration of breast feeding at nine years of age. This issue is obviously important with respect to advice regarding breastfeeding.

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In summary, there is compelling evidence that developmental exposure to PCBs produces behavioral impairment on a number of domains. However, there are significant gaps in our understanding concerning the effects of PCBs. One of the most important from a public health perspective is the lack of information on the shape of the exposure-effect relationship, including whether there is evidence for a threshold. Another critical area from a public health perspective is the characterization of the effects of postnatal exposure, and at what concentrations adverse effects of PCB exposure potentially negates the positive effects of breastfeeding on neuropsychological function.

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79. Crofton KM, Rice DC. Low-frequency hearing loss following perinatal exposure to 3,3 0 ,4,4 0 ,5-pentachlorobiphenyl (PCB 126) in rats. Neurotoxicol Teratol 1999; 21:299–301. 80. Geller AM, Bushnell PJ, Rice DC. Behavioral and electrophysiological estimates of visual thresholds in awake rats treated with 3,3 0 ,4,4 0 ,5-pentachlorobiphenyl (PCB 126). Neurotoxicol Teratol 2000; 22:521–531. 81. Rice DC, Hayward S. Effects of exposure to 3,3 0 ,4,4 0 ,5-pentachlorobiphenyl (PCB 126) throughout gestation and lactation on behavior (concurrent random interval-random interval and progressive ratio performance) in rats. Neurotoxicol Teratol 1999; 21:679–687. 82. Rice DC. Effect of exposure to 3,3 0 ,4,4 0 ,5-pentachlorobiphenyl (PCB 126) throughout gestation and lactation on development and spatial delayed alternation performance in rats. Neurotoxicol Teratol 1999; 21:59–69. 83. Weisglas-Kuperus N, Patandin S, Berbers GA, et al. Immunologic effects of background exposure to polychlorinated biphenyls and dioxins in Dutch preschool children. Environ Health Perspect 2000; 108:1203–1207. 84. Bellinger DC, Stiles KM, Needleman HL. Low-level lead exposure, intelligence and academic achievement: a long-term follow-up study. Pediatrics 1992; 90:855–861. 85. Dietrich KN, Berger OG, Succop PA, Hammond PB, Bornschein RL. The developmental consequences of low to moderate prenatal and postnatal lead exposure: intellectual attainment in the Cincinnati Lead Study Cohort following school entry. Neurotoxicol Teratol 1993; 15:37–44. 86. Carpenter DO, Hussain RJ, Berger DF, Lombardo JP, Park H-Y. Electrophysiologic and behavioral effects of perinatal and acute exposure of rats to lead and polychlorinated biphenyls. Environ Health Perspect 2002; 110:377–386. 87. NIEHS (National Institute of Environmental Health Sciences). Scientific issues relevant to assessment of health effects from exposure to methylmercury. Workshop organized by Committee on Environmental and Natural Resources (CENR) Office of Science and Technology Policy (OSTP), The White House, Raleigh, NC, November 18–20, 1998. 88. NRC (National Research Council). Committee on the Toxicological effects of Methylmercury, Board on Environmental Studies and Toxicology, Toxicological effects of methylmercury. Committee on the Toxicological Effects of Methylmercury, Board on Environmental Studies and Toxicology, Commission on Life Sciences, National Research Council. Washington, DC: National Academy Press, 2000. 89. Budtz-Jørgensen E, Keiding N, Grandjean P, White RF, Weihe P. Methylmercury neurotoxicity independent of PCB exposure. Environ Health Perspect 1999; 107:A236–A237. 90. Schantz SL, Ferguson SA, Bowman RE. Effects of 2,3,7,8-tetrachlorodibenzo-p-dioxin on behavior of monkeys in peer groups. Neurotoxicol Teratol 1992; 14:433–446. 91. Rogan WJ, Gladen BC, McKinney JD, et al. Polychlorinated biphenyls (PCBs) and dichlorodiphenyl dichloroethylene (DDE) in human milk: effects of maternal factors and previous lactation. Am J Public Health 1986; 76:172–177. 92. Gladen BC, Rogan WJ, Hardy P, Thullen J, Tingelstad J, Tully M. Development after exposure to polychlorinated biphenyls and dichlorodiphenyl dichloroethene transplacentally and through human milk. J Pediatr 1988; 113:991–995. 93. Rogan WJ, Gladen BC, McKinney JD, et al. Polychlorinated biphenyls (PCBs) and dichlorodiphenyl dichloroethene (DDE) in human milk: effects on growth, morbidity, and duration of lactation. Am J Public Health 1987; 77:1294–1297. 94. Steuerwald U, Weihe P, Jørgensen PJ, et al. Maternal seafood diet, methylmercury exposure, and neonatal neurologic function. J Pediatr 2000; 136:599–605. 95. Muckle G, XXI International Neurotoxicology Meeting. Honolulu, HI, Feb 9–12, 2004. 96. Jacobson JL, Humphrey HEB, Jacobson SW, Schantz SL, Mullin MD, Welch R. Determinants of polychlorinated biphenyls (PCBs), polybrominated biphenyls (PBBs), and dichlorodiphenyl trichloroethane (DDT) levels in the sera of young children. Am J Public Health 1989; 79:1401–1404.

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97. Patandin S, Dagnelie PC, Mulder PG, et al. Dietary exposure to polychlorinated biphenyls and dioxins from infancy until adulthood: A comparison between breastfeeding, toddler, and longterm exposure. Environ Health Perspect 1999; 107:45–51. 98. Patanin S, Weisglas-Kuperus N, de Ridder MAJ, et al. Plasma polychlorinated biphenyl levels in Dutch preschool children either breast-fed or formula-fed during infancy. Am J Public Health 1997; 87:1711–1714. 99. Lanting CI, Fidler V, Huisman M, Boersma ER. Determinants of polychlorinated biphenyl levels in plasma from 42-month-old children. Arch Environ Contam Toxicol 1998; 35:135–139. 100. Schecter A, Ryan JJ, Papke O. Decrease in levels and body burden of dioxins, dibenzofurans, PCBs, DDE, and HCB in blood and milk in a mother nursing twins over a thirty-eight month period. Chemosphere 1998; 37:1807–1816. 101. Abraham K, Papke O, Gross A, et al. Time course of PCDD/PCDF/PDB concentrations in breastfeeding mothers and their infants. Chemosphere 1998; 37:1731–1741. 102. Rice DC, Barone S. Critical periods of vulnerability for the developing nervous system: evidence from humans and animal models. Environ Health Perspect 2000; 3:511–533. 103. Jacobson JL, Jacobson SW. New methodologies for assessing the effects of prenatal toxic exposure on cognitive functioning in humans. In: Evans MS, ed. Toxic Contaminants and Ecosystem Health, a Great Lakes Focus. New York: John Wiley & Sons, Inc., 1988:373–388. 104. Davidson PW, Kost J, Myers GJ, Cox C, Clarkson TW, Shamlaye CF. Methylmercury and neurodevelopment: reanalysis of the Seychelles Child Development Study outcomes at 66 months of age. JAMA 2001; 285:1291–1293. 105. Canfield RL, Henderson CR, Cory-Slechta DA, Cox C, Jusko TA, Lanphear BP. Intellectual impairment in children with blood lead concentrations below 10 micrograms per deciliter. N Engl J Med 2003; 348:1517–1526. 106. Bellinger DC, Needleman HL. Intellectual impairment and blood lead levels. N Engl J Med 2003; 349:500–502. 107. Budtz-Jørgensen E, Keiding N, Grandjean P. Benchmark modeling of the Faroese methylmercury data. Final Report to U.S. EPA. Research Report 99/5. Copenhagen: Department of Biostatistics, University of Copenhagen, 1999. 108. Budtz-Jørgensen E, Grandjean P, Keiding N, et al. Benchmark dose calculations of methylmercury-associated neurobehavioral deficits. Toxicol Lett 2000;112–113: 193–199. 109. Schwartz J. Low-level lead exposure and children’s IQ: a meta-analysis and search for a threshold. Environ Res 1994; 65:42–55. 110. Jacobson JL, Janisse J, Banerjee M, Jester J, Jacobson SW, Ager JW. A benchmark dose analysis of prenatal exposure to polychlorinated biphenyls. Environ Health Perspect 2002; 110:393–398. 111. Zoeller RT, Dowling ALS, Herzig CTA, Iannacone EA, Gauger KJ, Bansal R. Thyroid hormone, brain development, and the environment. Environ Health Perspect 2002; 110:355–361. 112. Schantz SL, Seo BW, Moshtaghian J, Amin S. Developmental exposure to polychlorinated biphenyls or dioxin: do changes in thyroid function mediate effects on spatial learning? Am Zool 1997; 37:399–408. 113. Koopman-Esseboom C, Huisman M, Weisglas-Kuperus N, et al. PCB and dioxin levels in plasma and human milk of 418 Dutch women and their infants. Predictive value of PCB congener levels in maternal plasma for fetal and infant’s exposure to PCBs and dioxins. Chemosphere 1994; 28:1721–1732. 114. Howdeshell KL. A model of the development of the brain as a construct of the thyroid system. Environ Health Perspect 2002; 110:337–348. 115. Zoeller RT. Polychlorinated biphenyls as disrupters of thyroid hormone action. In: Robertson LW, Hansen LG, eds. PCBs: Recent Advances in Environmental Toxicology and Health Effects. University of Kentucky Press, Lexington, Kentucky, 2001:265–271.

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116. Winneke G, Brockhaus A, Collet W, Kraemer V. Modulation of lead-induced performance deficit in children by varying signal rate in a serial choice reation task. Neurotoxicol Teratol 1989; 11:587–592. 117. Needleman HL, Gunnoe C, Leviton A, et al. Deficits in psychologic and classroom performance of children with elevated dentine lead levels. N Engl J Med 1979; 300:689–695. 118. Stiles KM, Bellinger DC. Neuropsychological correlates of low-level lead exposure in school-age children: a prospective study. Neurotoxicol Teratol 1993; 15:27–35. 119. Jacobson, JL, Jacobson, SW, Prospective studies of exposure to an environmental contaminant: the challenge of hypothesis testing in a multivariate correlational context. Psychol Schools 2004; 46: 625–637.

4 Lead Neurotoxicity in Children: Knowledge Gaps and Research Needs David C. Bellinger Department of Neurology, Children’s Hospital Boston, Harvard Medical School and Department of Environmental Health, Harvard School of Public Health, Boston, Massachusetts, U.S.A.

INTRODUCTION It was in Australia in the 1890s, two millennia after lead was recognized as an adult neurotoxicant, that childhood lead poisoning was first described (1). For the next halfcentury, it was conceptualized largely as a clinical intoxication that was simply “present” or “absent.” Moreover, the intoxication was thought to have no lasting impact if a child did not become encephalopathic, which tends to occur at blood lead levels greater than 100 mg/dL. The observations of Byers and Lord (2) posed the first major challenge to this view. In this case series, many of the lead poisoned children who presented without signs of encephalopathy nevertheless suffered significant, enduring behavioral and intellectual problems that interfered substantially with their well-being. This suggested that lead poisoning is better characterized as a continuum than as a dichotomy, with subtler forms of neurological deficit occurring among children with lead exposures that do not produce frank toxicity. Progress was slow, however, in identifying milestones on this continuum and characterizing their relationships to lead dose. Textbooks of pediatrics published as recently as the late 1960s identified a blood lead level of 60 mg/dL as the upper limit of the normal range (3). In light of today’s knowledge, this is remarkable. It is somewhat less so, however, if considered in the context of blood lead screening data from that era, which revealed that among young children residing in areas of large, older cities such as Chicago, Philadelphia, and New York, the mean blood lead level differed by only a little more than a factor of two from the levels at which some children become encephalopathic. For instance, in Baltimore in the 1950s, 90% of low-income 7- to 60-month-old children attending well-baby clinics and hospital outpatient departments had a blood lead level above 30 mg/dL and 26% had a level above 60 (4). Other screening data from the 1960s suggested that 20% to 45% of children had a level greater than 40 mg/dL (5). The margin of safety was clearly dangerously slim. It appears that until the final decades of the 20th century, public health recommendations rested, to a large extent, on the erroneous assumption that the blood lead level that was average within the general population of children was also the level that was “physiologically normal” and thus posed no hazard. 67

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Although population blood lead levels have fallen as a result of the numerous restrictions placed on the uses of lead, as recently as the late 1970s the mean level of U.S. preschool children was 15 mg/dL and 88% had a level greater than 10 mg/dL (6). By the early 1990s, the mean had declined to 4 mg/dL, with 9% of children having a level greater than 10 mg/dL (7). The decline has continued. The current mean among young children, based on NHANES, 1999–2002 data, is 1.9 mg/dL, with 1.6% having a level greater than 10 mg/dL (8). This still represents approximately 310,000 children, and disparities still exist, with poor and non-Hispanic black children suffering the greatest exposures. The economic benefit of the presumed increase in IQ scores associated with the blood lead decline between 1976 and 1999 was estimated to be $110 to $319 billion for each year’s cohort of 2-year-old children (9). The dramatic decline in children’s blood lead levels has prompted some to conclude that because the mean level is now so close to 0 mg/dL, the steps taken in recent decades to abate key sources and pathways of exposure have brought us to the threshold of eliminating lead neurotoxicity in children. This is, however, an artifact of the measurement units used, by convention, to express blood lead level. If blood lead were measured in mg/L instead of mg/dL, the current mean level would be 20 mg/L; in ng/L, it would be 20,000. What was the blood lead level of humans likely to have been before they began to disturb the natural distribution of lead in the earth’s crust by mining and other activities? Two estimates are available. One, based on the relationship between blood and bone lead levels in contemporary animals and humans, is 0.016 mg/d (10). The other, based on a pharmacokinetic model, is 0.06 to 0.12 mg/dL (11). Therefore, the current mean of 2 mg/dL among U.S. children, although a 90% reduction from the mean during the late 1970s, could be as much as two orders of magnitude greater than children’s “natural” blood lead level. One can hope that most of the population distribution of blood lead levels now falls below the level at which lead produces demonstrable neurotoxicities in children, but it is possible that this goal still lies far ahead. The goal of this chapter is to identify some major lacunae in our understanding of the neurotoxicities associated with childhood lead poisoning and the impediments to filling them. The issues discussed bear on the selection of exposure biomarkers; the selection of critical outcomes; the functional form of the concentration–response/effect relationship; the reversibility of effects; and possible bases for individual differences in vulnerability.

SELECTION OF EXPOSURE BIOMARKERS AND SOURCES OF MISCLASSIFICATION ERRORS Given that the central nervous system is considered the critical target organ for childhood lead poisoning, it would be most helpful to be able to measure, in vivo, the concentration of lead at the cellular site(s) of action in the brain. Because such measurements are not currently feasible, investigators must rely on measurements of lead in more readily accessible but peripheral tissues, most commonly blood and bone. The relationship between brain lead and lead in each of these surrogate tissues is poorly understood, although the pharmacokinetics clearly differ among these compartments. In both rodents (12) and non-human primates (13), brain lead level falls much more slowly than blood lead level following chelation with succimer and, in the rodent, in non-chelated animals after cessation of exposure. These observations suggest that using blood lead as an index of lead in the brain will result in exposure misclassification, although the magnitude of this bias in any specific

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setting will be difficult to characterize. The most likely direction, however, would be underestimation of the amount of lead in the brain. As an exposure biomarker, blood lead level has other limitations. Only about 5% of an individual’s total body lead burden resides in blood. Furthermore, blood consists of several sub-compartments. More than 90% of lead in whole blood is bound to red cell proteins such as hemoglobin, with the balance in plasma. From a toxicological perspective, this unbound fraction is likely to be the most important sub-compartment of blood lead because of the ease with which it diffuses into soft tissues. The concentration of lead is plasma is much lower than in whole blood, however. For example, in a group of pregnant women with blood lead levels below 10 mg/dL, plasma lead levels were less than 0.3% of the whole blood lead level (14). The use of whole blood lead as a surrogate for plasma lead could be justified if the ratio of whole blood lead:plasma lead were well characterized, but this is not so. At least some studies suggest that it varies several-fold among individuals with the same blood lead level (14–17). Moreover, the ability of red cells to bind lead is limited, so the ratio of blood lead: plasma lead would be expected to be non-linear. Thus, interpreting whole blood lead level as a proxy for plasma lead level, which, itself, is a proxy for brain lead level, will likely result in some exposure misclassification. The greater relative abundance of lead in whole blood makes its measurement much easier (and cheaper) than the measurement of lead in plasma. With the number of toxicokinetic steps separating brain lead level from the exposure biomarkers usually measured, it is remarkable that we have made as much progress as we have in characterizing the concentration-response/effect relationships. Another limitation in the use of blood lead as the exposure biomarker is that its residence time in blood is closely linked to red cell lifetime, with a half-time on the order of 30 days, although it can be somewhat longer in individuals with higher total body burdens because of re-equilibration of lead stored in deeper and shallower pools. In nonchelated children, the time for blood lead to decline to a value less than 10 mg/dL was linearly related to baseline blood lead level. In children with starting levels of 25–29 mg/dL, the mean duration was 24 months, compared to 9 months in children with starting levels of 10–14 mg/dL (18). A single blood lead measurement might therefore provide limited information about an individual’s lead exposure history, a difficulty frequently cited regarding the interpretation of cross-sectional studies, in which blood lead is often measured only once, and sometimes only well after the period when children’s blood lead levels peak (18–30 mo). If it is exposures to lead in the early postnatal years that are most detrimental to children’s development (19), categorizing a child’s exposure status based on the blood lead level that is contemporaneous with the measurement of neurodevelopment at school-age could result in exposure misclassification. Unless intraindividual stability of serial blood lead levels is very high within a study cohort, misclassification would probably be non-differential, resulting in bias towards the null. This concern must be qualified by recent data from some longitudinal studies indicating that concurrent blood lead level, even at ages well beyond 18 to 30 mo, is sometimes the strongest predictor of late outcomes (20). Age-related changes in vulnerability, and the reasons why it might differ across studies, remain uncertain. It might be that among children with chronically elevated exposure, but not in children with relatively low lifetime exposure, blood lead level measured at school-age is a reasonably good marker of cumulative exposure. That concurrent blood lead level is a stronger predictor of schoolage outcomes than is blood lead level in the early postnatal years does not necessarily imply greater vulnerability of the brain to ongoing than to past exposure. The development of X-ray-fluorescence (XRF) methods for measuring lead in mineralized tissues engendered the hope that they would allow better characterization and

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reconstruction of exposure history. Such tissues are a long-term lead storage site, with a half-life measured in decades, containing approximately 90% of the total body lead burden in adults and 70% in children. Thus, bone lead is an index with a long exposure averaging time (21). Moreover, some data suggest that bone lead, which can be mobilized by many physiologic and pathophysiologic processes, is a major contributor to plasma lead. XRF methods have proven useful in studying individuals with occupational lead exposure (22,23), those living in highly polluted environments (24), and those who grew up when community lead exposures were relatively high (25). In a relatively highly exposed cohort of pregnant women in Mexico City, higher bone lead levels at one month post-partum were associated with reduced birth weight (26), less infant weight gain (27), smaller head circumference and birth length (28), and slower infant development (29). Among children living near a large lead smelter in Yugoslavia, IQ at age 10–12 yr was more strongly associated, inversely, with tibia lead level than with blood lead level (30). Current XRF methods for measuring bone lead levels have limitations, however. Temporal features of exposure history cannot easily be discerned. Some progress has been made toward this goal by examining the spatial distribution of lead in teeth in relation to the relative abundance of stable lead isotopes (31), but the specialized technologies needed to carry out these analyses are unlikely ever to be widely available, and the unpredictability of tooth exfoliation makes this tissue difficult to collect unless the study design involves contact with (and the cooperation of) participants at the appropriate ages. Current XRF methods might not be sufficiently sensitive for studies of the health effects of low-dose community exposures. The bone lead levels of a large percentage of subjects might be below the detection limit, for example, 80% in a case-control study of bone lead levels and juvenile delinquency (32). Efforts continue to modify the instrumentation or measurement protocols to reduce the detection limit. Lead appears to be deposited at sites of most active calcification (33). In children, this is trabecular bone, in which the rate of fractional resorption in early childhood is high. Depending on the amount of a child’s ongoing exposure, lead might not permanently remain in bone, making bone lead level an inaccurate index of lifetime lead exposure. Finally, it is difficult to compare the performance of different laboratories using XRF methods to measure bone lead because of the absence of standard reference materials. A major research need is the development and validation of biomarkers of critical dose that, compared to blood lead or bone lead, are fewer toxicokinetic steps removed from the sites of lead’s actions in the brain. One promising front in the effort to deduce the contents of the “black box” separating external dose and clinical disease is the measurement of processes and products that potentially mediate the association between them. For example, magnetic resonance spectroscopy (MRS) has been used in small case series to measure the ratio of N-acetylaspartate (NAA) to creatine, which is a marker of neuronal and axonal damage, and thus an early biological effect rather than a biomarker of exposure. In children, higher lead exposures are associated with lower NAA:creatine ratios in the frontal gray matter and, to a lesser extent, in frontal white matter (34,35). Similarly, an adult who had higher bone and blood lead levels than did his monozygotic twin had both greater neuropsychological deficits and lower NAA:creatine ratios in the hippocampus, frontal lobe, and midbrain (36). While much remains uncertain about the interpretation of MRS, the use of this and other biochemical imaging methods, in combination with more conventional structural and functional imaging methods, might bring us closer to understanding the mechanisms of lead neurotoxicity. Imprecision in exposure classification can result in estimates of critical dose that are insufficiently protective (37). All other things being equal, exposure misclassification will result in the greatest reduction of statistical power in studies that focus on the lower end of

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the exposure range. Exposure-related outcome differences would be expected to be smaller at lower than at higher blood lead levels (excepting a supralinear functional form; see “Functional Form of the Concentration–Response/Concentration–Effect Relationship”), so the size of the error introduced by misclassification will be greater in relation to mean blood lead level, representing a greater proportion of the coefficient of variation.

SELECTION OF CRITICAL OUTCOMES The functions measured as indicators of lead’s developmental neurotoxicity have, overwhelmingly, been neurocognitive deficits. Because of the intense controversy that attended proposals to impose significant restrictions on lead’s uses, many study publications focused entirely on analyses of the association between children’s lead levels and their scores on apical tests, such as IQ, that integrate performance over diverse domains. This is understandable in light of the risk assessor’s need to base exposure standards on endpoints for which consensus is firm with regard to individual and societal importance and for which deficits can be readily valued (i.e., monetized). Because individuals with the same IQ can present with markedly different patterns of strengths and weaknesses, however, IQ is perhaps the least useful piece of data collected in a clinical evaluation. A low score suggests the magnitude of a child’s struggles, but relatively little about their nature and, thus, about strategies for amelioration. In most studies, assessment batteries include, in addition to IQ, age-appropriate standardized tests of specific aspects of neurodevelopmental function, administered in hopes that the pattern of test scores will help to identify the neuropsychological mechanisms that underlie the inverse associations between lead and apical test scores. Lead-associated deficits on diverse domain-focused tests have been reported, involving attention, language, executive functions, visual-motor integration, and fine motor skills. Some have suggested that the findings provide a sufficient basis for inferring a “behavioral signature” for lead neurotoxicity (38,39). Any particular study has tended to identify leadassociated deficits in only a subset of these domains, however, and not all children within a study sample display all of the deficits noted at the group level. This is true even among children who suffer clinical lead poisoning (J. Rosen, personal communication). The limited consistency across studies in the domains identified as lead-sensitive provides relatively weak evidence for a true behavioral signature that can, with good sensitivity and specificity, identify the child whose impairments are related to lead and not to some other chemical, biological, or psychosocial factor (40). Some argue that behavioral signatures, in this strict diagnostic sense, have been identified only for Rett Syndrome, Prader–Willi Syndrome, and Lesch–Nyhan Syndrome (41). Furthermore, the deficits that have been proposed as contributing to a behavioral signature for lead are, themselves, vague, referring to broad abstract constructs (e.g., attention) rather than to specific processes. The processes within these broad domains that are lead-sensitive would have to be specified and defined operationally before any purported behavioral signature would be useful. Some of the difficulties encountered in drawing strong inferences about a behavioral signature, and weaker inferences about the more common relative deficits of lead-exposed children, stem from psychometric limitations of the tests that are used to assess different domains. These limitations have potentially serious implications for any effort to use batteries of such tests to draw inferences about relative deficits, a first step in determining whether a behavioral signature can be identified. The key data needed to identify a relative

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deficit is a lead-associated decrement on the test used to assess one domain but not on the test used to assess another domain (in neuropsychological terms, a “double dissociation”). To support the inference that this does, in fact, reflect a relative deficit, it is necessary, furthermore, to demonstrate that the tests used to assess different domains are equivalent in their discriminating power in the population that generated the study sample. This is rarely, if ever, done. If it is not, a relative deficit is only one of the hypotheses that could explain the findings (42). In this regard, a promising recent development is the use of integrated assessment batteries assembled to be interpretable in terms of current models in cognitive neuroscience. Complex constructs such as “attention” are not monolithic and unidimensional. Mirsky and Duncan’s (43) model distinguishes five dimensions of attention (encode, sustain, focus-execute, shift, and stability), so its administration enables an investigator to determine whether only some of these dimensions are sensitive to lead (39,44). Another theory-driven battery applied in lead studies (45) is the Cambridge Neuropsychological Automated Battery (CANTAB) (46). The CANTAB assesses functions considered to be sensitive to deficits in the prefrontal cortex and hippocampus (visual attention and memory, working memory, planning). It also includes some tasks that are homologues of tasks used in animal studies (e.g., delayed match-to-sample, delayed alternation, intra- and extra-dimensional shift), making it easier to draw explicit links between the human epidemiological and experimental animal literatures on lead (47). A potential drawback of applying such models is that the basic research underlying them is ongoing, and the investigator interested in applying them to lead must commit to one of sometimes several competing models of complex constructs. As Cory-Slechta (48) cautioned, with respect to attention, “.it may be. differences in frameworks defining attention coupled with a lack of operational definitions for the different response classes comprising attention that have limited any substantive advancement of our understanding of the role of lead in attention and how this might contribute to the reported deficits in learning associated with lead.” It has long been apparent that the spectrum of brain-based disorders of childhood associated with increased lead exposure is considerably broader than solely neurocognitive deficits. Since Byers and Lord’s (2) early report, in which the educational failure of many of the lead-poisoned children was attributed to explosive temper and aggressive behaviors, serious behavioral pathologies have been included among the signs and sequelae of lead poisoning. Although many studies of lead neurotoxicity have included assessments of children’s psychiatric and psychosocial status, the tools employed were relatively crude, often limited to parent- or teacher-completed screening questionnaires such as the Child Behavior Checklist (or Teacher Report Form), the Rutter Scales, or the Connors’ Rating Scales (49–55). No cohort study of lead has incorporated both sophisticated exposure assessment and psychiatric assessment tools linked to diagnostic criteria specified in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders. Lead has been hypothesized to increase the risk of a variety of psychiatric disorders. Low-level lead exposure has repeatedly been linked to behavioral dimensions such as distractibility and inattentiveness that are central to diagnostic classification of ADHD, but the evidence linking it to impairments so severe that they take a child across the diagnostic threshold is limited. Other pathologies associated with lead exposure in studies employing a variety of designs (ecologic, case-control, prospective cohort) include anti-social behavior, juvenile delinquency, and criminality (56–59). Despite the greater research attention devoted to externalizing disorders, lead exposure has been linked, as well, to an increased risk of internalizing behavior disorders, including anxiety and depression (52), and even autism (60–62). Whether increased

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exposure is etiologic or secondary to behavioral abnormalities associated with autism is uncertain, however. Case studies suggest an association between exposure and affective or schizophreniform psychosis (63,64), and a recent case-control study involving schizophrenic adults and matched controls found an increased risk of the disease among individuals whose mothers had higher levels of amino levulinic acid in archived serum samples collected in the second trimester of pregnancy (65). Replication of this intriguing finding using a more specific lead biomarker is needed, however.

FUNCTIONAL FORM OF THE CONCENTRATION–RESPONSE/ CONCENTRATION–EFFECT RELATIONSHIP Consensus opinion regarding the “lowest observed adverse effect level” for lead neurotoxicity in children has, over recent decades, moved inexorably toward lower and lower levels. Ironically, this is, at least in part, a result of the extraordinary success of measures implemented to reduce population exposures to lead. Historically, the blood lead distribution of the control group included in a study reflected the distribution in the contemporaneous source population. In effect, however, this constrained the research hypotheses that could be addressed. For instance, a study conducted in the early 1970s compared the development of children with blood lead levels of 58 to 137 mg/dL to the development of a control group for whom the mean blood lead level was 38 mg/dL (20 to 55 mg/dL) (66). The two groups had developmental problems of comparable severity, leading the investigator to conclude that the problems of the “exposed” group did not reflect lead toxicity, but, like those of the control group, poor home environments. In retrospect, a more likely explanation is that the development of children in both groups had been compromised by lead toxicity, with exposure misclassification producing a false negative result. In the late 1970s, when, as noted earlier, nearly 9 of 10 U.S. preschool children had a blood lead level greater than 10 mg/dL, it was difficult to assemble a control group suitable for evaluating the risk associated with levels of 10 to 20 mg/dL. As a result, the concentration-response/effect relationship estimated in any study was conditional on the lower range of the blood lead distribution of the study sample, and any deficits observed among more highly exposed children allowed inferences only about relative, rather than absolute, toxicity, complicating inter-study comparisons of quantitative results. It has become clear over the past decade that the current CDC screening guideline of 10 mg/dL has no greater biological significance than did the former screening guidelines of 40, 30, or 25 mg/dL. In the Boston prospective study, blood lead level at 2 yr of age was inversely associated with IQ at age 10, although for 90% of the children that level was less than 13 mg/dL (67). In a cross-sectional study of 6-yr-old German children, 95% of whom had a blood lead level less than 9 mg/dL, higher levels were associated with lower verbal intelligence and more false-positive responses on a CPT test (68). In a sample of Taiwanese school children, blood lead level (mean 5.5 mg/dL, SD 1.9) was inversely related to academic achievement (69). In 6 to 16 yr old children in the NHANES III survey, concentration-related deficits in reading and arithmetic scores were found even when analyses were restricted to children with concurrent blood lead levels below 2.5 mg/dL (38). Essentially linear relationships extending down to 1 mg/dL were found between concurrent blood lead level and IQ, naming, visual-motor integration, and attention (39). The most significant challenge to the view that 10 mg/dL can be regarded as “safe” was posed by Canfield et al. (20) They applied semi-parametric models with penalized

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splines to their data, essentially allowing the data to reveal the functional form that best describes them. It demonstrated that the IQ decline per mg/dL increase in blood lead was greater below 10 mg/dL than it was above 10 mg/dL. The estimated slope of the IQ decline per mg/dL among children for whom the maximum blood lead level measured was less than 10 mg/dL was 0.74 points per mg/dL and 0.13 points per mg/dL among children for whom the maximum blood lead levels exceeded 10 mg/dL. A similar supra-linear relationship was found in a re-analysis of the Boston prospective study (70). Despite the clear, and serious, policy implications, close attention has not always been paid to identifying the functional form that best fits the data. Frequently a log transformation is applied to blood lead level to normalize the distribution. If a linear model is fitted to the log-transformed exposure data, this, in effect, reflects an assumption that the concentration-effect relationship, on the measured scale, is nonlinear, with the slope decreasing in magnitude with increasing concentration, i.e., a greater effect of lead at lower than at higher blood lead levels. Non-linear dose–effect relationships are not uncommon in toxicology (71,72), although many of these are claimed to be examples of hormesis, with low doses of a toxicant being associated with a beneficial effect rather than an adverse effect. Moreover, a biological mechanism for supralinearity for lead has not been identified. Perhaps the predominant mechanism at very low blood lead levels is rapidly saturated, and that a different process that is less rapidly saturated becomes predominant at blood lead levels greater than 10 mg/dL. This ad hoc explanation is more descriptive than explanatory, however, and the specific processes that would produce this result have not yet been identified. An important caveat regarding efforts to specify the functional form of the dose– effect relationship is that the accuracy that can be achieved is constrained by the extent to which the biomarker of lead concentration does, in fact, reflect the concentration at the critical target organ, the brain. To the extent that it does not, aspects of the functional form that best describes a given set of observations might be artifactual.

REVERSIBILITY The absence of a clear operational definition of “reversibility” is a major impediment to drawing inferences about the natural history of any adverse effect associated with an accumulative neurotoxicant such as lead. It cannot be simply that a performance deficit remains detectable after external exposure has ended because it could reflect ongoing toxicity due to lead remaining at the critical target organ or lead deposited at the organ post-exposure as the result of redistribution of lead among body pools. As noted earlier, brain lead level can remain elevated long after blood lead level falls. A true test of reversibility requires that every lead atom has been cleared from the body. This being unattainable, investigators must exploit opportunities that permit only weaker tests of hypotheses about reversibility. These include assessing the persistence of deficits previously associated with early lead biomarkers and evaluating performance changes associated with natural experiments that involve assessing changes following events (including time), such as a change in external exposure or chelation that perturb the equilibrium of lead among different body pools. The data are somewhat inconsistent with regard to the reversibility of developmental adversities associated with low-level prenatal exposures to lead. In some studies, such as the Port Pirie cohort study, such associations were never consistently observed. In others, associations seen in infancy attenuated by preschool age (67,73). In yet others,

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associations between prenatal lead levels and various late outcomes were reported as late as middle adolescence (57,74,75). Results are more consistent in showing that higher postnatal lead biomarkers are associated with persistent neurocognitive deficits (44,67,74–78). In only a relatively few instances, however, have the longitudinal nature of the data been fully addressed in the analyses (79). Epidemiological studies have been unable to answer the question of whether the persistent deficits are the effects of exposure during some circumscribed critical period, cumulative exposure, or ongoing exposure. In experimental nonhuman primate studies, in which the temporal characteristics of exposure can be manipulated, neurocognitive deficits associated with higher developmental exposures persist for years following cessation of exposure (80). This suggests that ongoing external exposure is not necessary to maintain the deficits, although, as noted previously, it is not possible to exclude a possible role for ongoing endogenous exposures attributable to the redistribution of lead stores among different compartments. Studies of the late outcomes of children treated for lead poisoning support the hypothesis that the deficits are persistent and, possibly, permanent. The Treatment of Lead-Poisoned Children trial (TLC) enrolled children with pre-treatment blood lead levels of 20 to 44 mg/dL (NZ780) and randomly assigned them to receive either a placebo or therapeutic chelation using succimer. At 36-months post-treatment, no significant differences in cognition or behavior were noted between the succimer and placebo groups (81). Current blood lead level was significantly associated with cognitive performance at baseline, 36-months post-treatment, and at 7 yr of age, however, and the regression coefficients were similar to those estimated in observational studies (i.e., w3 point IQ decline per 10 mg/dL increase in blood lead) (82). Preliminary data suggest, however, that succimer does produce beneficial effects on cognition when administered to lead-exposed rats (83) and juvenile (but not adult) primates (84). The reasons for the apparent discrepancy between these findings and those of the TLC trial are not clear.

EFFECT MODIFICATION Plots of children’s values on a lead biomarker and their scores on a neurobehavioral test invariably reveal tremendous scatter, with the overall pattern better described as vaguely ovoid than as a straight line. In other words, the test scores observed at a given value of a lead biomarker are not coincident, but define a distribution, with the Y-value predicted by the model representing the best estimate of the central tendency. The smaller the standard deviation of the distribution, the more precise the prediction (i.e., less residual variance). The amount of residual variance will generally be greater in the presence of: (1) errors (imprecision) in characterizing concentration and outcome, (2) incomplete characterization of outcome variance attributable to factors other than lead, and (3) true biological variability in response that is not captured by the model. Insofar as issues pertaining to biomarker measurements were discussed previously, this section focuses on the second and third possibilities. The R2 values of the “final” regression models reported rarely exceed 50%, and are often considerably lower. Some of this can be attributed to the fact that the goal of model construction is usually to insure that important sources of confounding bias are not overlooked rather than to maximize prediction of the outcome. Much of the methodological discussion pertaining to lead studies has focused on the likelihood that, in a particular study, residual confounding by unmeasured or poorly measured factors biased the estimate of the partial coefficient for lead. One convention that developed in the

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1980s was the obligatory inclusion of certain potential confounders as a necessary (but not sufficient) condition for study credibility. The most important of these were maternal IQ and quality of the home environment (the age-appropriate version of the Home Observation for Measurement of the Environment). Adjustments are also generally made for a variety of variables identified as potential confounders, but usually on an ad hoc, study-by-study basis insofar as confounding is a characteristic of a specific dataset rather than an inherent characteristic of an association (85). Nevertheless, it is clear that variance in outcome scores that is potentially informative is left to fester in the model error term. What additional factors might be measured and modeled in an effort to reduce the size of this error term? By and large, studies of developmental exposure to lead (and other neurotoxicants) have included in the pool of candidate confounders individual- and family-level factors (e.g., birth weight, birth order, family social class). The ecology of a developing child is considerably broader and more complex than this, however. In some respects, it resembles an onion, with the family representing an inner layer, the neighborhood and community the next outermost layer, and the culture representing the outermost layer. A focus solely on individual and family-level factors reflects an implicit assumption that any influences on child development of more distal aspects of the ecological context are mediated entirely by more proximal factors. Therefore, the argument goes, precise and valid measurements of proximal factors obviate the need to measure distal factors. Recent epidemiologic studies demonstrate the inadequacy of this assumption insofar as distal factors frequently remain significant predictors of health status even after adjustment for individual and family-level factors (86). In studies of lead neurotoxicity, this type of multi-level modeling could integrate into a single analysis data on characteristics that cross the boundaries between layers of influence (41). For example, in a study of the risk among African-American women of delivering a moderately lowbirth weight baby, Rauh and colleagues (87) found that the risk was significantly associated with indicators of community socioeconomic conditions, even after adjustments for individual-level risk factors. The biomarker model developed by the Committee on Biological Markers of the National Research Council (88) incorporates “susceptibility” factors that influence the rate of transition, or likelihood of transition, along the continuum from external dose to clinical disease. Progress has been slow in identifying factors that either exacerbate or mitigate the risk of lead neurotoxicity. Nutritional status is one candidate. Adjusting for the severity of environmental lead contamination, iron-deficient children had higher blood lead levels than iron-replete children (89). One interpretation of these data is that children experiencing the same external dose can experience different internal doses. In another study of iron status, a decline in blood lead level was associated with improved cognitive performance in iron-sufficient but not in iron-deficient children (90). Among the possible explanations for this finding is that iron deficiency contributes to pharmacodynamic variability, increasing the toxicity of a given lead dose. Finally, in a third study, the intellectual deficit associated with an increased blood lead level was greater among undernourished children than well-nourished children (91). Other studies suggest that the cognitive deficits associated with lead exposure are greater, and the prognosis more dire, among children of lower socioeconomic status (92–94). These epidemiological observations are consistent with those in an experimental rodent model (95). On a spatial learning task, the performance of lead-exposed rats reared in an enriched environment exceeded the performance of control rats reared in standard cages, and did not differ significantly from that of control rats reared in the enriched environment. Moreover, environmentally-enriched lead-exposed rats showed significant

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recovery of N-methyl-D-aspartate subunit 1 mRNA and brain-derived neurotrophic factor in the hippocampus. Genetic polymorphisms that influence lead toxicokinetics and/or toxicodynamics have been identified, although most of the work has focused on adults who were occupationally exposed to lead. Compared to workers with the wild type allele of amino levulinic acid dehydratase, workers with the variant allele had a higher mean blood lead level (96), greater lead-associated renal dysfunction (97,98), and an increased risk of amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (96). The slope of the association between floor dust lead and blood lead is steeper among children with the less common variant of the vitamin D receptor (Fox 1 or B) than among children with the wild-type allele (99). In adults, these same alleles are associated with higher blood lead levels (100) and increased blood pressure (101). Greater lead-associated reductions in renal function have been observed in adults with a variant allele of nitric acid synthetase (eNOS Asp) (97). Adults with variants of the hemochromatosis gene (C282Y and/or H63D) have higher patella lead levels (102). Only one polymorphism has been shown to modify lead neurotoxicity. Lead workers with the apolipoprotein E4 allele showed greater lead-associated decreases in neurobehavioral function than did workers with the E1, E2, or E3 alleles (23). Clearly this work has only begun, and no conclusions can be drawn at present about the likelihood that any of these polymorphisms modify lead neurotoxicity in children.

CONCLUSION The history of research on lead neurotoxicity in children is considerably more extensive than is that of research on any other nervous system toxicant, yet important issues clearly remain unresolved. It does seem to be, as the truism goes, that as we learn more, we are stimulated to ask new questions. But it is important to recognize the changes that have occurred over time in the scope of the questions asked about lead. We are no longer asking, “Does low-level lead exposure affect children’s neurodevelopment?” In fact, the phrase, “low-level” is increasingly being recognized as a term that has little biological content and is interpretable only in a specific historical context. Now the questions of interest focus on the shape of the dose-effect relationship at blood lead levels below 10 mg/dL, the identification of biological and socio-environmental factors that modulate an individual child’s risk, expansion of the neurological endpoints being explored as possible targets of lead toxicity, and so on. Fortunately, public health interventions implemented as a result of the answers investigators provided to the more basic questions have substantially decreased the risk of lead toxicity borne by today’s children. Nevertheless, the job is by no means finished. More than 300,000 children, among whom poor and minority children are over-represented, still have blood lead levels that exceed the CDC action guideline. And we know that 10 mg/dL is not a “bright line” separating toxicity from safety, but only a risk management tool. If the dose-effect relationship is supralinear in the range !10 mg/dL, the foundation of the risk calculus will need to be reconsidered, as will the appropriate public health response.

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5 Effects of Organic Solvents on Reproductive Outcome and Offspring Development Christine Till Toronto Rehabilitation Institute, Toronto, Ontario, Canada

Gideon Koren Division of Clinical Pharmacology and Toxicology, The Hospital for Sick Children, Toronto, Ontario, Canada

Joanne Rovet Department of Pediatrics, The Hospital for Sick Children, Toronto, Ontario, Canada

Many women continue to work throughout pregnancy, making the link between women’s workplace exposure to organic solvents and reproductive hazards an important public health issue. The effect of this exposure on human offspring development is important to the discussion of developmental neurotoxicology since exposure to organic solvents is widespread and, over the last three decades, increasing evidence has accrued to suggest that many solvents can be potent teratogens. However, current biological understanding of the effects of organic solvents on reproductive outcome remain far from definitive and confined to a small number of organic solvents. This chapter reviews the evidence pertaining to the effects of organic solvent exposure on reproductive outcomes and offspring development with a focus on occupational exposures to industrial solvents. Evidence from animal experiments is included in order to establish whether organic solvents interfere with reproduction. Epidemiological evidence and clinical case studies are reviewed for increased risk of spontaneous abortion, birth defects, neurobehavioral deficits, and visual defects in offspring of women exposed to organic solvents during pregnancy. Methodological issues that need considering when interpreting human and animal studies are also discussed.

BASIC PRINCIPLES Classes of Organic Solvents Organic solvents comprise a large and structurally diverse group of industrially important chemical compounds used in industry for the purpose of extracting, dissolving, or 83

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suspending non-water soluble materials. There are thousands of industrial solvents, and these can be grouped according to their chemical composition. The major classes of organic solvents include aromatic and aliphatic hydrocarbons, halogenated compounds, aldehydes, ketones, amines, esters, ethers, glycols, and alcohols (Table 1). Complex solvents such as kerosene, rubber solvent, varnish, painters’ naphtha, and mineral spirits contain a mixture of components determined by the petroleum sources, processing methods, and mixing ratios. This section reviews the uses and some basic principles of organic solvents focusing on the properties related to reproductive outcome.

Sources of Exposure to Organic Solvents Organic solvents represent one of the most common kinds of industrial chemicals. They are used in a variety of industrial applications including the manufacture of paints, glues, dyes, plastics, and metals; clothing and textile industries; and in the preparation of processed foods and pharmaceuticals. Many female-dominated occupations such as laboratory technicians, hairdressers, photo developers, and dry cleaning workers involve the use of organic solvents. Exposure to organic solvents can also occur through household product use in spray adhesives, paint removers, floor and tile cleaners, and varnishes. Pregnant women are often exposed to organic solvents because they are commonly engaged in home renovations for preparation of additional family members. Exposure can also occur more broadly from environmental contaminants or through substance abuse. Organic solvents have been reported as contaminants in drinking water (1) and as air pollution (2). One route of organic solvent exposure that is on the rise today is deliberate exposure in pursuit of an intoxicating solvent “high” (3,4). According to a national survey of high school students in the United States, approximately 17% of adolescents have sniffed inhalants at least once in their lives (5).

Properties of Organic Solvents Most organic solvents are liquids that boil in the range of 758C to 2208C and share common physical characteristics including high volatility, which refers to its tendency to evaporate into a gas or vapor, and solvency, which refers to its ability to pass through intact skin. As a general rule, the higher the volatility of a solvent, the more it will be present in the breathing zone, and hence, the higher the exposure. The high volatility of most solvents under conditions of standard use and the efficient transfer of vapors into the bloodstream indicates that inhalation is the major route of exposure. With respiratory exposure, vapors enter the alveoli of the lungs and diffuse readily across a large surface area of respiratory membranes from high concentration in the lung’s inspired air to low concentrations in the blood and tissues. Dermal absorption represents a second major route of exposure for many solvents as skin contact is very common due to the casual nature of solvent use. Solvents that are both lipid and water soluble pass through intact skin easily and lead to a defatting of skin or skin irritation. Many solvents are very lipid soluble and can therefore cross the blood-brain barrier and accumulate in lipid-rich areas of the body, such as depot fats and myelin or brain white matter. Because of their lipid solubility, organic solvents enter the bloodstream with ease, although the rate of membrane transport also depends upon the condition of the individual. For example, between 40% to 80% of the inhaled dose is absorbed when the individual is at rest, and this amount increases with exercise and pregnancy because blood flow to the lung and alveolar ventilation are elevated. Therefore, the unique pharmacokinetics

Effects of Organic Solvents on Reproductive Outcome Table 1

Common Classes of Organic Solvents and Exemplars

Structural class

Exemplars

Aliphatic Methane, ethane, propane, butane, pentane, hydrocarbons isobutane, petroleum ether, hexane, naphtha, gasoline, kerosene Aromatic Benzene, methylbenzene (toluene), hydrocarbons dimethylbenzene (xylene), trimethylbenzenes, tetramethylbenzene (durene), ethylbenzene, propylbenzene, isopropylbenzene (cumene), butylbenzene, vinylbenzene (styrene) Chlorinated Monochloromethane (methyl chloride), hydrocarbons Dichloromethane (methylene chloride), Monochloroethane (chloroform), 1,1,1trichloroethane (methyl chloroform), 1,1,2-trichloroethane (TCE; vinyl trichloride), vinyl chloride, trichloroethane (trichloroethylene), tetrachloromethane (carbon tetrachloride), 1,1,2,2tetrachloroethane (acetylene tetrachloride), tetrachloroethylene (perchloroethyelene), dichlorodifluoromethane (Freon 12) Esters Methyl formate, ethyl acetate, isopropyl acetate, methyl acetate, isoamyl acetate Ketones Dimethyl ketone (acetone), methyl ethyl ketone (MEK; butanone), methyl n-propyl ketone (MPK; 2-pentanone), methyl isopropyl ketone (MIK; 3-methyl-2-butanone), methyl-n-butyl ketone (MBK; 2-hexanone), methyl n-amyl ketone (MAK; 2-heptanone), ethyl n-butyl ketone (3-heptanone) Aldehydes Acetaldehyde, formaldehyde, (formalin), glutaraldehyde, fluoroacetaldehyde

Ethers

Glycols

Alcohols

85

Dimethyl ether, diethyl ether (ether), diisopropyl ether, dibutyl ether, divinyl ether, methyl propyl ether, tetrahydrofuran, dioxane, isopropyl ether Ethylene glycol, propylene glycol, triethylene glycol, butyl cellusolve (2-butoxyethanol), cellusolve (2-ethoxyethanol), methyl cellusolve (2-methoxyethanol) Methanol, ethanol, phenol, isopropanol, Propanol, butanol

Principle source/use Coatings and insecticides, dry cleaning fluid, spot, remover, excellent degreasers and solvents for paints and epoxies Solvents for acrylic, paints, adhesives, cements, glues, veneers, plastics; used in printing

Used as degreasers, dry cleaning agents, paint, strippers; found in coatings, resins, tars, aerosol propellant, solvents for adhesives, waxes, glues, oils, etc.

Fumigant insecticides Nail polish remover (acetone), solvents for dyes, resins, adhesives, lacquers, oils, varnish; used in manufacture of plastics, explosives, cosmetics, medicines

Used in laboratories, plastic and resin industries, in synthesis of sealants, cosmetics, disinfectants, wood preservatives Gasoline engine primer; ingredients in dyes, resins, waxes, paints, gums, lacquers, fuels and cellulose nitrate Used as lubricants; ingredients in cosmetics and coatings; to lower freezing point of liquids

Used for cleaning, paint removal (Continued)

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Table 1 Common Classes of Organic Solvents and Exemplars (Continued) Structural class Alkyl nitrites Others

Exemplars Propyl, isopropyl nitrite, butyl, isobutyl nitrite, amyl, isoamyl nitrite Freon, turpentine, dimethylformamide (DMF), carbon disulfide, pyridine, amides, amines

Principle source/use Jet fuel, room deodorizer

inherent to the pregnant woman raise concern about potential adverse effects of the exposure. Because solvents constitute a heterogeneous group of chemicals, there are many potential metabolic breakdown pathways. However, in most instances there is involvement of the P450 enzyme system and the glutathione pathways. These pathways catalyze oxidative and conjugation reactions to form water-soluble substances, which can be excreted in urine. For most solvents, metabolism occurs primarily in liver. However, it is generally recognized that other organs such as kidney and lung can also exhibit a capacity for biotransformation.

Monitoring Organic Solvents in the Workplace The estimation of the dose of organic solvents usually involves measuring either the solvent or its metabolite in urine or blood. Biological monitoring is useful in determining solvent exposure occurring through dermal absorption, whereas hygiene monitoring in the workplace (i.e., measurement of airborne concentrations and/or dermal contact) only approximates inhalation exposure and is dependent upon the employer’s ability or willingness to collect the exposure data. Furthermore, the efficacy of biological monitoring depends on the properties of the solvent. For example, solvents with half-lives in the range of several hours (6) are excreted rapidly, and because levels of metabolite may fluctuate from hour to hour, they may not be detected reliably by biological monitoring. Therefore, the timing of sample collection relative to the termination of exposure is critical for reliable estimates of uptake. Hygiene monitoring in the workplace also only approximates inhalation exposure because the concentration of solvents is dependent on several solvent- and human-related factors. Solvent-related factors include: (1) the level and duration of exposure, (2) specific physiochemical features of each solvent, (3) the use of protective equipment, and (4) synergistic effects of simultaneous exposure to solvent mixtures (i.e., reduced rate of metabolism of one solvent in the presence of other chemicals) (6). With respect to humanrelated factors, physiological factors such as body build, ethnic and genetic differences, percentage body fat, and blood and tissue solubility affect the pharmacokinetic profile of organic solvents (7). Toxicity of organic solvents also varies according to levels of physical exercise (associated with increased pulmonary capillary blood flow), diurnal metabolic cycles, and alcohol use (8). Regarding the latter, Baker et al. (6) reported that ethanol ingestion decreases the metabolic clearance rate of xylene by about one half-life due to the metabolic interaction between xylene and alcohol, which are both degraded by the same enzyme (viz., aldehyde dehydrogenase). As a result of the ethanol-induced metabolic inhibition, concurrent alcohol and organic solvent exposure slows clearance of the solvent, and so may be expected to prolong internal exposure to the neurotoxin.

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Thus, because hygeine monitoring provides only an estimate of exposure for an individual and the fetus, it must be combined with adequate health data, as mentioned above, to determine risk. Transfer of Organic Solvents to the Fetus During pregnancy, lipid-soluble and low-molecular-weight solvents can easily traverse the placental barrier into the amniotic fluid where they are ingested and readily absorbed by the conceptus at all stages of gestation (9–11). Ghantous and Danielsson (10) used autoradiography and liquid scintillation methods to study the placental distribution of radiolabeled toluene, xylene, and benzene and their metabolites in pregnant mice. The distributions of these solvents were observed at regular intervals from 0 to 24 hr following a 10-min inhalation period. All solvents reached a high concentration in dams’ lipid-rich tissues (e.g., brain and fat) and well perfused organs (e.g., liver and kidney) immediately after inhalation and in every tissue, except fat, were eliminated in one hour. Peak levels were reached between 30 min and one hour after inhalation and then were all rapidly eliminated except for the benzene metabolite, which was retained in maternal liver and kidney. For all solvents, volatile radioactivitiy was observed immediately and up to one hour after inhalation in placenta and fetuses regardless of stage of gestation. Although concentrations of toluene, xylene, and benzene were much lower in fetal tissues than in maternal tissues, those in most fetal tissues were evenly distributed in early gestation. The one exception was the fetal liver, which reached high levels in late gestation. Thus, these aromatic hydrocarbons may be transported to the fetus paraplacentally through fetal membranes and amniotic fluid, with the possibility of fetal swallowing or dermal absorption.

ORGANIC SOLVENTS IN THE CENTRAL NERVOUS SYSTEM Organic solvents can act as central nervous system (CNS) depressants and cause general anesthetic effects by inhibiting brain and spinal cord activity. In the extreme, high level exposure to organic solvents can render the individual unconscious and even result in death. With repeated low-level chronic exposure (or high-level acute exposure), these compounds can accumulate in the lipid membranes of nerve cells and, in some cases, disrupt normal excitability of the nerve tissues and adversely affect normal nerve impulse conduction (12). Because these compounds tend to accumulate in lipid-rich areas of the body, such as myelin or brain white matter, there is a high potential for neurotoxicity. These effects would also be expected to predominate in the developing fetal CNS when myelin is forming. As a rule, the degree of CNS depressant activity increases with the carbon chain length. This increased toxicity is most evident when larger functional groups are added to small organic compounds, since the increase in molecular size disproportionately decreases the water solubility and increases the lipophilicity. However, this generalization is relevant only for chemicals with a five- or six-carbon chain length (e.g., pentane, hexane) while molecular size beyond this point results in a decrease in vapor pressure, thereby changing the pattern of inhalation dramatically. Another property that increases the degree of CNS depressant activity is the number of unsaturated bonds (organic structures where hydrogens have been deleted, forming one or more double or triple bonds). Typically, unsaturated chemicals (e.g., hexene) are more potent CNS depressants than their saturated (single-bond) counterparts (e.g., hexane).

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Similarly, CNS depressant properties of organic compounds are enhanced by increasing the degree of halogenation [e.g., chlorine (Cl), bromine (Br)] and, to a lesser extent, adding alcoholic (–OH) functional groups. For example, while methane and ethane have no significant anaesthetic properties, their corresponding alcohol analogs (methanol and ethanol) are potent CNS depressants. Similarly, while methylene chloride (i.e., CH2Cl2) has appreciable anaesthetic properties, chloroform (i.e., CHCl3) and carbon tetrachloride (i.e., CHCl4) are even more potent compared to methylene chloride. Table 2 shows the relative CNS depressant and irritant potency of organic compounds. The approximate rankings shown in Table 2 rely on basic comparisons among the unsubstituted chemical analogs and become less applicable in broader comparisons among the larger, more complex and multisubstituted compounds.

FETAL VULNERABILITY TO ORGANIC SOLVENTS The fetus is uniquely vulnerable to toxin exposures for a number of reasons: First, because of the incomplete development of the blood-brain barrier, the fetus has greater exposure to organic solvents than adults. Second, accumulation of organic solvents may be further exacerbated because of the relatively high lipid content of the developing brain compared to the rest of the body. Third, the mechanisms for solvent metabolism, in particular P-450, are functioning only marginally in the fetus. At birth, human and animal offspring have only 20 to 40% of the adult concentration of cytochrome P450 and do not reach adult levels of P450 enzymes until one year of age (13). This reduced metabolic capacity of the young favors the increase of solvent absorption compared to adults and makes them more susceptible to neurotoxic insult. Also, the fetus is more susceptible to neurotoxic insult than adults because of its rapid nervous system growth and development. For example, during organogenesis, systems such as the visual system develop and establish essential neural connections. If the timing of exposure falls within critical periods of development, vital connections between nerve cells may fail to form and, as a consequence, there is high risk that the developing nervous system will be permanently damaged. Despite these characteristics that make the fetus more vulnerable to toxic substances than adults, most occupational threshold values are determined based on the adult worker, not the fetus. This therefore calls into question the adequacy of workplace standards for pregnant women. Table 2

Relative CNS Depressant and Irritant Potency of Selected Organic Solvent Classes

Potency High

Low Source: From Ref. 12.

CNS depressant potential Halogen-substituted compounds Ethers Esters Organic acids Alcohols Alkenes Alkanes

Membrane and tissue irritant potential Amines Organic acids AldehydesZketones Alcohols Alkanes

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REPRODUCTIVE AND DEVELOPMENTAL EFFECTS IN ANIMALS FOLLOWING PRENATAL EXPOSURE TO ORGANIC SOLVENTS Animal studies have reported that a variety of organic solvents cross the placenta and result in increased embryotoxicity as reflected by lower conception rates, smaller litter sizes, and increased rates of miscarriage and structural abnormalities. Malformations following prenatal solvent exposure in animals include hydrocephaly, exencephaly, skeletal defects, and cardiovascular abnormalities (9,14–17). Also described are delayed maturation of the cerebral cortex (9) and changes to the lipid class composition of the cerebral cortex (18). Studies of behavioral toxicity in the offspring of animals following maternal exposure to organic solvents have revealed significant dose-dependent effects such as delayed reflex and motor development (16), altered rates of behavioral habituation to novel environments (19), deficits in spatial learning and memory (20), and increases in spontaneous activity (16). In one study by Nelson, Taylor, Selzer, and Horning (21), offspring of SpragueDawley rats, which were exposed to 900 parts per million (ppm) perchloroethylene (PCE), showed alteration in growth as well as neurobehavioral changes, including increased activity in open field tests (21). Neurochemical analyses of the animal brains revealed significant reductions in levels of acetylcholine and dopamine, particularly among pups exposed on gestation days 7 to 13. However, as with the human epidemiological studies, findings in animal studies are often conflicting and many of the positive associations between solvent exposure and teratogenicity depend on the specific solvent, dose, route of administration, and the indirect effects of maternal toxicity. The most convincing evidence for the developmental toxicity of solvents per se comes from studies that controlled for maternal toxicity and used exposure conditions similar to what might be encountered in the workplace. One such study reported rib abnormalities in mice exposed to 400 ppm of toluene for 7 hr per day on gestational days 7 to 16, but no effect with lower exposures of 200 ppm (22). In another study that showed no differences in maternal body weight, rabbits exposed to medium and high levels of diethylene glycol dimethyl ether showed prenatal mortality and malformations reflecting rib fusion and clubbing of limbs (14). While research on animals has convincingly demonstrated that a variety of solvents readily cross the placenta and have the potential to disrupt neurodevelopment, even in the absence of overt maternal toxicity, it is still difficult to make generalizations from animal to human data for several reasons. First, most animal studies use higher dose levels than are accepted for humans, and these are provided via a variety of administration routes. While solvent absorption in humans occurs primarily through inhalation or dermal absorption, animals are often administered solvents via gavage or intravenous injection. Second, as a result of developmental differences between animals and humans at the time of birth, the teratogenic impact of certain chemicals may be less in those animals whose critical period of brain development is postnatal. A third limitation is that specific mixtures of solvents, which occur commonly in many occupational settings, are usually not tested in animals. Fourth, there is debate about how to extrapolate the findings to humans because teratogenic activity varies among species. For example, mice metabolize PCE more rapidly than rats, whereas humans metabolize PCE less rapidly than rats. Also, the brain-body weight fraction and the cardiac output to the brain are greater in humans than in rodents. Therefore, studies only in animals are not adequate for assessing potential reproductive and developmental risks associated with human occupational exposure to organic solvents during pregnancy.

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REPRODUCTIVE AND DEVELOPMENTAL EFFECTS FOLLOWING OCCUPATIONAL EXPOSURE TO ORGANIC SOLVENTS The current scientific literature on reproductive risks associated with solvent exposure focuses mainly on the risks to the fetus during pregnancy. This focus makes it seem as if women are more susceptible to risk than men. However, this perspective is a misconception because some substances may be more harmful for men (23–25), while others may be more harmful for women. Thus, the present focus on reproductive risks of women’s workplace exposures does not imply a distinction between reproductive disorders to men or women. Risk of Infertility Fertility can be measured by a number of indices, which include: fecundability ratios (FR), or the probability of conceiving in a given menstrual cycle; and time to pregnancy (TTP) adequacy of menstrual and ovarian function. Studies of fertility indicate disruption of the many biological mechanisms responsible for conception (or the organs responsible for them) increases the time to achieve a pregnancy. This is particularly important for lowdose exposures that do not necessarily result in frank infertility. One of the earliest epidemiological studies carried out in Denmark sought to examine the link between occupational solvent exposures and reduced fecundability (26). Occupational exposures and TTP data were collected for more than 4000 pregnant couples. For women, the exposures that were significantly associated with infertility and/ or delayed conception included anesthetic gases, dry cleaning chemicals, metals (such as those for welding, lead, cadmium, mercury), plastic manufacturing, heat, and noise. Several recent studies have examined fecundity and exposure. For example, PlengeBonig and Karmaus reported a significantly reduced fecundability ratio [FRZ0.47, 95% confidence interval (CI) 0.29 to 0.77] among women, but not men, employed in the printing industry and exposed to toluene (27). In a retrospective study of TTP in female wood workers exposed to different exposure levels of formaldehyde, Taskinen et al. assessed the fecundability density ratio (FDR) (28), which represents the average incidence densities of pregnancies for exposed women compared to pregnancies of employed unexposed women. High exposure to formaldehyde was found to be significantly associated with delayed conception (FDRZ0.64, 95% CI 0.43 to 0.92), while FDR was still lower if the women did not use gloves (FDRZ0.51, 95% CI 0.28 to 0.92). No association was found between exposure to phenols, dusts, or organic solvents and prolonged TTP. In a study of women exposed to organic solvents, Sallmen et al. observed reduced fertility (29) reflecting decreased FRs among women exposed to organic solvents in shoe factories (FRZ0.28, 95% CI 0.11 to 0.71), dry cleaning shops (FRZ0.44, 95% CI 0.28 to 0.86), and the metal industry (FRZ0.58, 95% CI 0.34 to 0.98). Several studies have focused on the effects of occupational exposures to organic solvents on biological processes that may affect fertility, such as menstrual cycle length and variability. Women with high exposure to toluene (30) and dry cleaning workers exposed to perchloroethylene (31) were reported to have increased dysmenorrhea compared to controls. In contrast, a study of more than 1500 plastics industry workers found no association nor a dose-response relationship between styrene exposure and menstrual disorders. Rather, menstrual disorders were linked to smoking, the woman’s age, chronic disease, and nulliparity (32). Further studies with detailed exposure assessments and controlling for other work-related factors are needed to determine whether dysmenorrhea is related to exposure to other specific solvents.

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Risk of Spontaneous Abortion Spontaneous abortion (SAB) has been extensively studied in relation to organic solvent exposure using cross-sectional, case-control, and historical cohort designs. Although this research has reported a significantly increased risk of SAB in certain occupational settings, there appears to be discrepancies among occupations (Table 3). For example, increased risk of SAB was associated with solvent exposure among women employed in leather and shoe manufacturing (33), the graphics industry (34), laundry and dry cleaning (35), laboratories (36,37), painting (38), and pharmaceutical factories (37), whereas other studies reported that laboratory workers (33,39) and workers in the microelectronics industry (40) did not have increased SAB rates. These discrepancies may reflect the different levels of exposure between occupational groups, as well as differences with respect to types of solvents and solvent mixtures used. With regard to type of organic solvent, an increased risk of SAB has been associated with maternal exposure to toluene, styrene, trichloroethylene, methylene chloride, and aliphatic hydrocarbons. Significant excesses of SAB have also been reported among women exposed to (1) styrene and polystyrene during the production of plastics; (2) tetrachloroethylene in dry cleaning work; and (3) toluene in shoe and audio speaker manufacturing (40). Among laboratory workers, whose exposure usually involves more than one agent, the risk of SAB was most consistent among women exposed to aliphatic hydrocarbons (34,36). Similarly, a study of women employed in the pharmaceutical industry found an increased risk of SAB following exposure to methylene chloride (41). In the latter study, Taskinen et al. used logistic regression to show that risk increased in relation to the number of solvents used with women who used four or more solvents having an increase in the SAB rate (statistically insignificant) compared to those exposed to one to three solvents (41). Taken together, these studies show a fairly consistent association between maternal solvent exposure and evidence of SAB. However, it is difficult to interpret the consistency in results across studies because it is unclear how well the studies were able to estimate retrospectively the actual exposure during pregnancy.

Risk of Congenital Malformations Several case-control studies have indicated that offspring of women exposed to organic solvents during pregnancy are more likely to have birth defects. Although analysis of the specific types of defects did not reveal any particular trend, the wide range of anomalies associated with solvent exposure is not surprising given the diversity in chemicals that are used. Holmberg and Nurminen (42) in a case-control study examined the association between occupational factors during pregnancy and congenital defects of the CNS, using data from the Finnish Registry of Congenital Malformations. Personal interviews, which were conducted on 120 cases and their referents revealed that women exposed to solvents during the first trimester of pregnancy were 4 times more likely to have a child with a CNS anomaly than women who were not exposed during pregnancy. Other studies have reported increased cardiovascular abnormalities (43), limb reduction defects (24), renalurinary or gastrointestinal defects (44), and oral cleft malformations (45–47) in the progeny of solvent-exposed women. Hemminki and colleagues (48) conducted a large case-control study in which they prospectively investigated the association between maternal occupation and children

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Table 3 Studies on the Relationship Between Maternal Occupational Exposure to Organic Solvents and Spontaneous Abortion Study population Laboratory work

No. of exposed pregnancies; cases/controls

Relative risk

95% C.I. or p value

Solvent exposure

576

1.3

0.9–9

Multiple

299

0.7

0.3–1.14

n/a

38/57

1.0

0.6–1.7

Multiple

23/21

2.3

1.1–4.3

44/130

2.3a

p!.06

46/357

1.7a

1.0–2.9

5/38

2.9

1.0–8.8

3/27

1.10a

0.33–3.73

839

3.09a

p!.01

Graphics

7/3

5.2

1.3–20.8

Shoe factory

5/2

9.3

1.0–84.7

Dry cleaning

247/680

3.6a

p!.05

TCE

2.7

0.7–11.2

TCE

low exposure high exposure Pharmaceutical work Factory workers (rubber, plastics, & machines) Painters

Microelectronics industry Leather manufacturing

4/5

a

References Axelsson et al. 1984 (39) McDonald et al. 1988 (33) Taskinen et al. 1994 (36)

Methylene chloride Solvents

Taskinen et al. 1986 (41) Heidam, 1984 (38)

Solvents, phthalic acid Aliphatic hydrocarbons n/a

Heidam, 1984 (38)

Aliphatic hydrocarbons Toluene

Lipscomb et al. 1991 (40) McDonald et al. 1988 (33) Lindbohm et al. 1990 (34) Lindbohm et al. 1990 (34) Kyyronen et al. 1989 (35) Lindbohm et al. 1990 (34)

Value indicates adjusted odds ratio.

born with major malformations. All cases and their referents from 1967 to 1977 were studied for a total of 3300 pairs. Risk factors of malformations were considered as possible confounding factors, and were controlled using multivariate analyses. Results showed an increased risk of CNS, oral cleft, and musculoskeletal malformations in the

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offspring of women in industrial trades, many of whom used solvents. However, no specific chemical was identified as the causative agent because the majority of workers were exposed to more than one chemical, or chemicals were not specified. This drawback makes it difficult to draw any conclusions about the risk of congenital malformations of specific occupations or solvents. In a case-control study from Montreal (44), certain specific chemicals were systematically studied as risk factors of congenital defects. This study was restricted to women who had worked at least 30 hr during the first trimester of pregnancy. Cases included 301 women who gave birth to a child with major congenital defects or who had their pregnancy terminated because of a major defect detected early in pregnancy while controls were women who gave birth to a normal child in the same hospital. Each case was matched to a control on gravidity, education, maternal age and the date of delivery. The exposure assessment was based on interviews immediately after delivery. Results of a matched pair analysis revealed a significantly higher overall frequency of chemical exposure in cases than referents (63,47). Analysis of the chemical categories revealed a significant association between aromatic solvents and malformations (ORZ2.3, pZ0.04), which was most evident in the urinary tract group (9:0). This difference was mainly restricted to the group exposed to toluene. Among laboratory workers, some studies have shown increased frequencies of congenital malformations (34,43,49) while others have found no such association (39,50). Inconsistencies also exist among studies of women working in the leather industry. For example, Garcia and Fletcher (47) reported an increased risk of oral clefts among offspring of leather workers, whereas McDonald et al. (33) reported an increased risk of stillbirth, but not malformations, among these workers. Differences in the composition of the study populations and the intensity of exposure may partly explain the inconsistent results. A recent study conducted in Toronto by Khattak and colleagues (51) investigated the risk of major fetal malformations following maternal occupational exposure to organic solvents during pregnancy. The offspring of 125 women who had been exposed to various types of organic solvents for at least the first trimester of pregnancy and 125 offspring of women not exposed were systematically studied. Major birth defects were found in 13 progeny in the exposed group but only 1 child in the control group [relative risk (RR)Z13.0; 95% CI: 1.8 to 99.5]. Furthermore, malformations were more likely to occur among women who reported symptoms associated with their exposure compared with those who were asymptomatic. Although this study avoided many of the methodological shortcomings of retrospective studies, its small sample size and heterogeneity of exposure types has made it difficult to draw conclusions about the reproductive hazards of specific solvents or occupations. McMartin et al. (52) used meta-analysis to summarize the risk for spontaneous abortion and major malformations from maternal occupational exposure to solvents during pregnancy. This method is advantageous because it is more objective than a general literature review and it also involves pooling research results from various studies, thereby increasing the statistical power of the analysis. Results of the McMartin study found a trend towards an increased risk of spontaneous abortions (ORZ1.25; 95% CI: 0.99–1.58) and a significantly increased risk of major malformations (OR was 1.64; 95% CI: 1.16–2.30) following maternal exposure to solvents. Although the risk for spontaneous abortion was small, these authors concluded that the addition of one study of similar effect size would have rendered this trend statistically significant. Hence, the need for further research in this area is warranted.

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Neurodevelopmental Effects To date, little is known about the long-term effects of organic solvent exposure during pregnancy on offspring neurodevelopment. This represents a major gap in knowledge because the disabling effects of a teratogenic substance often do not emerge at birth but rather, when the potentially vulnerable cognitive or behavioral system has matured or compensatory mechanisms are no longer adequate (53). The lack of studies examining neurodevelopmental effects is of concern because lower doses of organic solvents, such as those commonly found in the workplace, may induce more subtle manifestations of toxicity in the absence of physical malformations in offspring and direct effects on the mother. To illustrate this point further, one only needs to compare the effects of fetal alcohol syndrome (FAS) and fetal alcohol effect (FAE). Since both groups show a consistent pattern of neuropsychological deficits, but only the FAS group has facial dysmorphology (54), these data therefore suggest that degree of deficit is independent of the presence of physical features associated with prenatal alcohol exposure. One prospective study by Eskenazi, Gaylord, Bracken and Brown (55) examined the neurobehavioral development of 41 3.5-year old children whose mothers were occupationally exposed to solvents during pregnancy. Results showed no significant differences from controls in (1) cognitive status measured by the McCarthy Scales of General Abilities or (2) and child’s behavior and personality according to maternal ratings on questionnaires. However, the authors acknowledged that exposure levels may have been too low to produce noticeable neurobehavioral deficits. Since these researchers grouped exposure as a dichotomous variable (i.e., yes or no) but did not report the dose nor exposure duration, it is possible that their dichotomous stratification approach was not sufficiently sensitive to detect a true effect of exposure. Moreover, the general measures used in this study and mother’s report of developmental milestones, behavior, and personality may have been insensitive to detect any subtle and specific differences that may have existed between the solvent-exposed and control group at the specific age tested. The authors of the study did note that “subtle effects of low-level solvent exposure may not be detectable four years after the exposure because of the plasticity of the developing brain to compensate for early insult”. Alternatively, neurobehavioral effects may not emerge until a later age when more complicated cognitive skills develop, such as reading and arithmetic. In another study involving a large cohort of women hairdressers from the Netherlands, Kersemaekers, Roeleveld, Zielhuis, and Gabreels (56) compared the neurodevelopment of offspring of 9000 hairdressers born between 1986 and 1993 to 9000 age-matched children of clothing sales clerks, who served as the reference group. All women completed a questionnaire about their reproductive history, the child’s developmental milestones, and whether the child had seizures during fever. Results indicated that children of hairdressers born between 1986 and 1988 had significant delays in speaking first words and first sentences, whereas those born between 1991 and 1993 did not. For both study periods, seizures during fever were reported more often in the children of hairdressers than clothing salespersons. The findings therefore signify that there may be specific effects on child language development among offspring of hairdressers in the earlier (1986 to 1988) compared to the later period (1991 to 1993). Although not directly tested, the authors speculated that this difference reflected changes in the chemicals used by the hairdressers during the different time periods. Work from our lab may be more revealing. We examined cognitive and behavioral functioning prospectively in 33 3 to 7 year old children born to women who were occupationally exposed to organic solvents during pregnancy. We compared these

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children to age-matched unexposed children (57,58). All children were ascertained through an antenatal counseling service in Toronto, Canada, for potential exposure to teratogens, and the reference group was deemed to be exposed to a nonharmful substance (e.g., acetaminophen). The children were tested with a comprehensive battery of neuropsychological tests that included subtests from the Developmental Neuropsychology Assessment (NEPSY), a visual continuous performance test (CPT), as well as parent-rated measures of children’s behavior. Exposure information was documented by the counseling service at the time of pregnancy via a structured questionnaire, and we estimated exposure intensity from this information. We found that while the performance of the exposed group was within the normal range overall, comparison with controls revealed that the exposed group performed more poorly on indices of expressive language (p!0.01), receptive language (p!0.01), and graphomotor ability (p!0.001). They performed comparably to controls on measures of attention and visuospatial and fine-motor abilities. As predicted by a dose-response model, negative associations were found between exposure levels and scores on the language and graphomotor tests reflecting poorer performance with increasing exposure level. A more recent study from our group (59) reported additional evidence of an association between weak language and visuomotor abilities in 32 children aged 3 to 9 years whose mothers were occupationally exposed to organic solvents during pregnancy, controlling for educational level and maternal IQ. These convergent findings provide confirmatory evidence that occupational exposure to organic solvents during pregnancy may be associated with selective deficits in the progeny. However, the highly heterogeneous solvent exposures in both studies and problems in estimating dose made it difficult to draw any conclusions about specific effects of chemicals.

Effects on Visual Functioning Specific visual functions have proven to be useful markers for CNS dysfunction in the research on adults with occupational solvent exposure. Studies have shown acquired color vision loss in adult workers after chronic, low-level exposure to styrene (60–63), toluene (64), n-hexane (65), and mixtures of solvents (66,67), as well as reduced contrast detection (68,69). Similar effects on vision, including reduced contrast sensitivity and degeneration of retinal ganglion cells, have been reported in macaque monkeys exposed to carbon disulfide (70,71). These well-documented effects on the mature visual system led our group to explore the impact of gestational exposure to organic solvents on the developing visual system (57). We used clinical measures to assess color vision and visual acuity in 32 of the children described above whose mothers were occupationally exposed to organic solvents during pregnancy and the same matched controls. Our results revealed that relative to controls, the solvent-exposed group showed mild to severe impairments in red-green (p!.05) and blue-yellow (p!.005) color discrimination as well as reduced visual acuity (p!.05). The increased incidence of blue-yellow color discrimination deficits in the exposed group is of particular interest because defects in this color axis are not inherited as are defects in the red-green range. Furthermore, this study also reported a nonsignificant trend reflecting clinical red-green color vision loss in 3 of the 32 exposed children (2 males and 1 female) versus no controls. It is interesting to note that these results were found despite the study’s exclusion of children with a family history of a heritable retinal disease or congenital color vision loss. Thus, our findings suggested that maternal occupational exposure to organic solvents during pregnancy is associated with increased risk of visual abnormalities in the progeny.

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A larger study conducted by our group (72) prospectively evaluated the impact of prenatal solvent exposure on selective aspects of infant visual functioning (viz., contrast sensitivity, visual acuity, color vision) using visual evoked potential (VEP) techniques. The sample consisted of 21 infants born to women who were occupationally exposed to solvents during pregnancy compared with 27 non-exposed age-matched infants. Mothers and their infants were recruited from an antenatal counseling service, and exposure was estimated using questionnaire data obtained during pregnancy. Testers were masked to exposure status. Results showed a significant reduction in contrast sensitivity at low spatial frequencies for solvent-exposed infants compared to controls. Moreover, infants with high level exposure had significantly lower acuity than those with low exposure, suggesting evidence of a dose-response relation. With respect to color vision, the incidence of abnormal waveforms was significantly higher in the exposed group for the red-green chromatic response, but not the blue-yellow and achromatic response, signifying abnormalities in long- and medium-wavelength neural mechanisms. Overall, the findings suggest that exposure to organic solvents during pregnancy, at levels encountered in the workplace, is associated with selective visual deficits in offspring. In adults, tests of visual functioning are frequently added to standardized batteries of neurobehavioral tests since they are simple, noninvasive, and easy to use in the workplace as a screen for specific CNS impairments. Findings in children now suggest an increased risk of visual deficits following low-level gestational exposure to organic solvents. Prenatal exposure to other neurotoxic agents, including mercury or methylmercury (73,74), cocaine (75), and alcohol (76–79), has also been associated with visual disturbances. These findings in children suggest that the addition of visual tests to batteries may provide important information for detecting alterations to the developing nervous system.

ORGANIC SOLVENT INHALANT ABUSE Inhalant abuse, also known as “sniffing” or “huffing,” refers to the intentional inhalation of volatile chemicals and gases to achieve a desired intoxication (5). The most commonly abused volatile solvents include toluene and 1,1,1-trichloroethylane, through the sniffing of gasoline, glue, and spray paints. A sense of euphoria similar to alcohol-like intoxication is generally achieved with toluene exposures of at least 500 ppm, whereas confusion, auditory and visual hallucinations, and inhibition and incoordination occur at exposure levels of 600–800 ppm (80). The popularity of toluene as a recreational psychotropic agent is related to its relative ease of accessibility, low cost, and misperceived lack of addictive qualities (80). Of growing concern is the potential teratogenicity of this substance abuse, especially as many inhalant abusers are of child-bearing age. This popularity of volatile inhalants among adolescents raises concerns about potential unwanted pregnancies. Teratogenic effects have been reported in children born to mothers who abused solvents during pregnancy (3,81). In 1979, Toutant and Lippmann (81) proposed the term fetal solvent syndrome to describe a neonate born to a mother with a 14-year addiction to toluene and a 3-year history of alcohol intake estimated at six beers per week. This child presented with low birth weight, short length, and facial features similar to that of FAS. Seen in particular were craniofacial anomalies including microcephaly, a flat nasal bridge, a hypoplastic mandible, short palpebral fissures, mildly low-set ears, and a sloping forehead. Since this first report, more than 100 children have been described in the literature as exhibiting fetal solvent syndrome as a result of maternal solvent abuse during pregnancy (5).

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In 1985, Hersh et al. (3) published a report describing clinical findings among three children aged 3 to 4 year who were exposed to toluene in utero. The clinical findings were microcephaly, CNS dysfunction, attentional deficits, developmental delay including language deficits, and variable growth deficiency. Phenotypic similarities included a small midface and narrow bifrontal diameter; short palpebral fissures, deep-set eyes, and low-set ears; micrognathia; and mild limb abnormalities, including blunted fingertips and small fingernails. These clinical characteristics are comparable to those described in children with FAS. In fact, of 18 toluene-exposed infants examined by Pearson et al. (4), 83% had features similar to FAS. While these similar teratogenic effects may signify a common mechanism for toluene and alcohol, this has not yet been established. The concomitant exposure to both toluene and alcohol may also potentiate the adverse effects of alcohol through ethanol-induced metabolic inhibition. Hersh et al. noted that gasoline inhalation during pregnancy results in a different facial phenotype and more significant neurodevelopmental impairments, including spastic quadriparesis, than prenatal exposure to toluene (3). Such differences may reflect the presence of lead and the minimal aromatics found in gasoline when the phase-down of lead as a gasoline additive was still incomplete. Our group conducted a neuropsychological examination as well as tests of vision on a 33-month old boy and a 40-month old girl, both of whom were exposed prenatally to toluene from maternal glue-sniffing during pregnancy. The children, who were biological siblings, separated in age by 13 months, were adopted as infants into separate families. Cognitive and motor abilities were formally assessed using the Mullen Scales of Early Learning for the boy and the Wechsler Primary and Preschool Scale of Intelligence (WPPSI-R) for the girl. Surprisingly, the children’s profiles were notably different. The boy’s results revealed age appropriate levels of cognitive and motor abilities, which were all within the average to high average range, whereas the girl displayed below average abilities overall with stronger verbal than non-verbal skills. Interestingly, however, both children demonstrated specific difficulties in the low to below average range on measures of graphomotor control, consistent with previous findings on offspring of women exposed occupationally to organic solvents during pregnancy (58). Clinical and electrophysiological techniques also used to assess selective visual functions in the two children showed they both had difficulties with color discrimination, while the girl also showed reduced contrast sensitivity and acuity. In addition, refraction results were normal for the boy and indicated astigmatism for the girl.

PROBLEMS STUDYING REPRODUCTIVE HAZARDS IN HUMAN STUDIES Several methodological issues make the assessment and monitoring of solvent effects in human offspring especially challenging. One consideration is that the mechanisms by which many solvents exert their toxicity are complex and vary among solvents and individuals. Factors to be accounted for in quantifying the exposure must include environmental conditions (e.g., ventilation, temperature), individual characteristics (e.g., body weight, physical exercise, genetic factors in susceptibility), and effect-modifying factors (e.g., smoking, alcohol consumption, drug intake, exposure to other chemicals). Moreover, the potential for toxicological interaction increases with use of solvent mixtures because of the possible unpredictable additivity, synergism, or potentiation of effects. Because these factors are difficult to control, most studies cannot confirm exposure levels or identify precisely the chemicals in multi-exposure occupations. Studies that combine

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women with low and high exposures or classify exposure by job title may fail to detect true effects of the exposure. Assessment of exposure is further complicated by the fact that organic solvents are rapidly metabolized and no biological assay is available to evaluate fetal exposure. Finally, exposure to more than one chemical may also produce unknown byproducts that may be more toxic than the individual parent compound. Another problem is the retrospective nature of data collection, which makes confirmation of diagnoses and exposures difficult. For example, Lindbohm et al. (34) assessed recall bias in workers exposed to organic solvents during pregnancy and showed that 19% (9/47) of women did not report exposure to a specific solvent within a 24 month follow-up period. Similar findings by Eskenazi et al. (55) and Till et al. (82) indicated that many women exposed to solvents during pregnancy were inaccurate when asked to recall their exposure at a follow-up interview conducted 3 to 6 year after pregnancy. For example, findings by Till et al. indicated low percentage agreement between the two occasions for reports of duration of exposure (41%), protective barrier use (48%), and symptomatology (41%). When reports were not in perfect agreement, women at time of follow-up tended to report longer durations of exposure, increased use of protective barriers, and more symptoms than during pregnancy. Such variation may reflect response biases in the data collected at time of pregnancy or recall biases at time of follow-up, and are of concern because they can severely affect estimates of human teratological risk. Finally, factors such as small sample size and selection bias make it difficult to draw any causal associations between occupational exposure and pregnancy outcome. Clearly, all of these limitations attest to the need for good documentation of exposure during pregnancy, prospective designs, and strict methodological criteria.

SUMMARY AND RECOMMENDATIONS A large body of evidence has been accumulated on the effects of organic solvent exposure on the worker and developing fetus. As summarized in this review, this information indicates that adverse reproductive and developmental outcomes are commonly found following workplace exposure to organic solvents. Epidemiological studies suggest an increased risk of reduced fecundability, spontaneous abortions, and congenital malformations, especially among workers in laboratories and the pharmaceutical, graphics, and painting industries. Certain solvents, including aromatic, aliphatic, and chlorinated hydrocarbons have been consistently associated with increased risk of spontaneous abortions. It is important to note that many of the adverse effects were observed in mothers who were not symptomatic and exposed to organic solvents near or below the standard occupational exposure levels. With respect to neurodevelopmental outcomes of the offspring, some studies suggest an association between solvent exposure and specific neurocognitive deficits, particularly reduced expressive and receptive language abilities and poor performance on tasks of visuospatial and graphomotor abilities. Recent findings have also suggested an increased risk of color vision deficits and reduced acuity in children born to women exposed to organic solvents. Unfortunately, there are still few long-term studies on the behavioral effects of solvent exposure during pregnancy, and of the studies conducted to date, many are complicated by methodological weaknesses. Therefore, despite the large number of women exposed daily to solvents in the workplace and the presumed increased vulnerability of the fetus to the toxic insult, knowledge of neurobehavioral effects of solvent exposure remains sparse. This significant gap makes estimation of risk for particular occupations or solvent exposures virtually impossible. Positive findings encourage further studies with improved

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study design and methods, particularly improved assessment of exposure and a diverse range of end points, including measures of visual functioning. In conclusion, the protection of pregnant women and their unborn children against occupational reproductive hazards represents a major challenge to our society. Not only are thousands of new chemicals developed each year, they are typically introduced without adequate testing for reproductive and developmental toxicity. Therefore, women are right to suspect reproductive health hazards as important issues in their workplaces and their lives. Until new policies are established to protect women from reproductive hazards in the workplace, women should be advised to minimize exposure to organic solvents during pregnancy. This exposure reduction must occur early in pregnancy to prevent effects during critical periods of organogenesis and it should extend throughout pregnancy to protect the developing fetus.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS This work was supported by a grant from the Workplace Safety and Insurance Board of Ontario and by a studentship to Christine Till from the Canadian Institutes of Health Research. Gideon Koren is holder of the Research Leadership for Better Pharmacotherapy during Pregnancy and Lactation (Hospital for Sick Children) and the Ivey Chair in Molecular Toxicology, University of Western Ontario.

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SECTION TWO:

MEDICINAL AND RECREATIONAL SUBSTANCE USE

6 The Structural and Functional Teratology of Antiepileptic Medications Jane Adams and Jennifer Anne Lantz Gavin Department of Psychology, University of Massachusetts Boston, Boston, Massachusetts, U.S.A.

Patricia A. Janulewicz Department of Environmental Health, Boston University School of Public Health and Department of Psychology, University of Massachusetts, Boston, Massachusetts, U.S.A.

Understanding the association between exposure to antiepileptic medications during pregnancy and the diverse manifestations of adverse outcome is complicated by the need to first understand basic principles of teratogenic, and particularly neuro-teratogenic, action and basic definitions of adverse outcomes. Conveyance of information specific to the teratogenicity of anticonvulsants is further complicated by the fact that the emergence in the late 1960s of studies raising concern about antiepileptic drug use during pregnancy overlapped with the establishment of the basic scientific principles. As a result, the designs of early studies pre-dated recognition of certain principles of teratogenic action as well as recognition of the need to employ certain design characteristics when neurodevelopmental, especially cognitive, endpoints were examined. In light of these complexities and with the goal of having this chapter serve the needs not only of neurobehavioral teratologists, but of students, health professionals, regulatory scientists, and structurallyfocused teratologists, our approach is to cover certain fundamentals alongside the data specific to the actions of anticonvulsant medications as neurobehavioral teratogens. Thus, we will first examine fundamentals of teratogenic action and the nature of adverse outcomes, and then focus on the risks associated with anticonvulsant exposure during pregnancy. By necessity, opening discussions are brief and make considerable reference to review sources. FUNDAMENTALS OF TERATOLOGY AND NEUROBEHAVIORAL TERATOLOGY Teratogens are agents that are capable of inducing abnormal development when exposures occur during prenatal development. Abnormality may be manifest as spontaneous abortion or stillbirth, or in liveborn infants, as major malformations, growth alterations, or functional developmental deficits (1). For teratogens of the central nervous system, these 103

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outcomes have been shown to occur across a continuum from death to functional impairment, and to be manifest in syndromes whereby an individual teratogen produces a signature cluster of major and minor malformations, possible effects on growth, and effects on neurobehavioral and cognitive functioning (2–5). The syndromic expression of teratogenic effects dictates designs aimed at uncovering and measuring multiple endpoints. Thus, early research studies aimed at associating prenatal exposure with a single, fairly rare malformation were often not able to identify teratogens within the sample sizes evaluated in most studies (3). The importance of syndromic manifestation is critical to understanding the difficulty inherent in identifying anticonvulsant teratogenicity in the historical timeframe where studies often focused on single malformation outcomes. First, it is important to provide formal definitions for the categories of endpoints relevant to the syndromic expression of adverse outcomes. Most notably, it is important to distinguish between major and minor malformations, and to examine how minor structural defects, growth impairments, and cognitive impairments have been defined. As used by teratologists (3), “major malformations” are defined as major structural defects that have either cosmetic or functional significance to the child. Examples are heart malformations, cleft lip, or neural tube defects such as anencephaly or spina bifida. “Minor malformations” are defined as minor structural defects that occur infrequently (in less than 4% of the population) and that have no known cosmetic or functional significance to the child. Minor malformations include things such as midface hypoplasia, which has features such as a broad nasal bridge, short nose, or long upper lip. Patterns of minor malformation have been identified for many neurobehavioral teratogens, including antiepileptic drugs. “Patterns” of minor malformations are often defined as a minimum of three specific defects that occur in at least two infants in the exposed group under study. Minor malformations are typically only detected if a formal dysmorphologic exam is done, or when an abridged number of measurements are taken of structures under suspicion as relevant to a particular agent. The incorporation of full dysmorphologic examination into research studies aimed at determining the teratogenic risks associated with drug exposures is not yet routine. Nevertheless, the relevance of patterns of minor malformation as early warning indicators for increased risks for neurobehavioral and cognitive dysfunction is receiving increased attention. Such relationships will be examined later in this chapter when we discuss predictors of outcome. Standardized dysmorphological exams are administered by trained physicians specialized in dysmorphology, generally in association with obstetrics, pediatrics, or genetics. The standardized exams consist of many body measurements including head circumference, length, weight, palpebral fissure length, inner canthal distance, ear length, philtral length, length and width of the nasal bridge, and multiple other measures of all bodily parts. Measurements are then referred to databases of values corresponding with established percentiles for growth at specific ages, such as at term birth. For example, measurements of weight, length, and head circumference can be used to calculate exact percentiles for infants of the same age and sex using the National Center for Health Statistics growth curves (3,6). For most measurements, values that are greater than two standard deviations (2 SD) from the mean are judged to be abnormal and the differential outcomes of study groups are compared on the basis of the proportion of infants having abnormal scores. Thus, an increased prevalence of microcephaly, for example, would mean that following teratogenic exposure, a higher proportion of the exposed infants had occipito-frontal head circumferences that were greater than 2 SD below the established mean. This approach to the characterization of deviant body measurements was frequently applied to the characterization of intellectual dysfunction in early studies of the effects of prenatal exposure to anticonvulsants. As will be described later, such

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applications considered intellectual outcomes as “normal” or “abnormal” and thereby only judged children with mental retardation (IQ scores greater than 2 SD below the mean) to have been affected by exposure. This early approach to risk ascertainment is contrary to the now established recognition that adverse neurodevelopmental outcomes are typically manifest over a continuum from severe to more subtle dysfunction, and that it is critically important to examine general ability as well as specific abilities across domains of neuropsychological functioning (2). In the field of neurobehavioral teratology, multiple adverse outcomes are often studied alongside and in relationship to effects on nervous system functioning. Since the brain ultimately contributes to or controls the function of all organ systems and since individual systems also have their own adverse responses to exposure, functional developmental deficits may be manifest through dysfunction in any organ system. Nevertheless, deficits mediated by the nervous system primarily and historically have been investigated with respect to behavioral development and cognitive functioning, although more recent attention is developing for social and psychiatric outcome characteristics (7–9), as well as endocrine mediated characteristics such as sexually dimorphic reproductive or cognitive performance abilities (2,10,11). As is the case for teratogenic effects on death, malformation, growth or function, abnormalities in nervous system development are also generally exhibited across a continuum whereby severe effects fall at one end and more subtle, but nevertheless significantly compromising dysfunctions occur at the other (2,5,12,13). Some examples are mental retardation or subtle learning disabilities, motor spasticities or mild coordination deficits, sensory loss such as in blindness or deafness, or more subtle impairments such as changes in visual, auditory, or tactile abilities. Severe effects are generally associated with detectable malformations in the brain, but more subtle dysfunctions are often seen in the absence of currently detectable structural changes (5,13,14). Research in animal models as well as human beings has clearly demonstrated that the specific outcome along the continuum from death to dysfunction or severe to subtle dysfunction is associated with exposure dose, exposure duration, precise time of exposure during development, general health characteristics of the mother, and genetic characteristics of mother and offspring (2). The importance of these variables will be illustrated in the case of antiepileptic medications. It is important to recognize that teratogen-induced adverse outcomes of pregnancy, from death to subtle dysfunction, are preventable causes of abnormal development that can be precluded by better understanding of the many drugs, chemicals, diseases, metabolic disorders, and infections that increase risks. In this chapter, we hope to broaden the understanding of the risks associated with exposure to anti-epileptic drugs during prenatal development. “The risks of major malformations, minor anomalies, and dysmorphic features is twofold to threefold higher in infants of mothers with epilepsy who receive treatment with antiepileptic drugs (AEDs) compared with the risks in infants of mothers without epilepsy” (15). This consensusbased statement from an international group of clinician-investigators followed many years of controversy about the relative roles of the maternal disorder of epilepsy versus the medications themselves as the predominant cause of certain adverse outcomes: a controversy which still continues. In an effort to examine the multiple variables of relevance to the association between exposure and outcome, we will first examine the general role of epilepsy as a disorder and of AED exposure with respect to structural adverse outcomes. We will then evaluate the role of dosage level and polytherapy versus monotherapy exposure upon structural effects of AED use during pregnancy. Next, the effects of AED polytherapy upon behavioral and cognitive outcomes will be presented. Then, we will describe the effects of each of the primary medications that have been

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used to treat epilepsy during pregnancy: diphenylhydantoin (PHT), Phenobarbital (PB), carbamazepine (CBZ), and valproic acid (VPA). Individualized predictors of susceptibility to adverse outcome that can be assessed during pregnancy or at birth will then be discussed. Finally, we will identify issues that need to be further explored in future studies.

RESEARCH IN THE EARLY YEARS: THE ROLE OF EPILEPSY AS A DISEASE CONTRIBUTING TO ADVERSE OUTCOMES OF PREGNANCY Epilepsy is a common neurological disorder that affects about 2.3 million people in the United States, one-third of whom are women of childbearing age (6,16). Approximately 95% of women with epilepsy are on AEDs for seizure management, and thus the majority of children born to mothers with seizure disorders are exposed to AEDs in utero (17). Likewise, these children may be exposed to certain untoward effects of epilepsy, particularly if seizures occur during pregnancy. There are several altered physiological characteristics of women with epilepsy that are associated with the disease itself and/or its treatment. Alterations in several reproductive, hormonal, and other physiological parameters are known (17,18). With respect to pregnancy outcome, a primary emphasis has been placed on dissociating the effects of seizures during pregnancy or possible genetic risk factors from the drug-based induction of teratogenicity. The extent of occurrence of seizures among women treated with anticonvulsant medications during pregnancy is unclear and varies across studies in conjunction with the types of seizures that are monitored, the exclusion criteria, as well as other characteristics of the specific samples of epileptic women that are studied. Typically arguments expressing concern about the potential adverse effects of seizures during pregnancy upon infant outcome have been based on possible harm from prolonged generalized convulsions that may pose risk for fetal anoxia or hypoxia (15). Given these concerns, early reports on the adverse outcomes of pregnancy among women with seizure disorders (19–26) met with considerable resistance and difficulty in interpretation. The medical community needed to reconcile competing ideas about the harm from seizures during pregnancy and the harm from other aspects of epilepsy as a maternal disorder with the idea of a dominantly druginduced set of adverse outcomes (15). This dilemma and surrounding controversy has generated multiple animal as well as human studies addressing the role of the maternal disease of epilepsy as a genetic or seizure-related contributor to the reported adverse outcomes. From the late 1960s throughout the 80s, research on the teratogenicity of anticonvulsant drugs was dominated by these themes. This was a period when the typical woman with epilepsy was more often treated by combinations of AEDs than by single medications, and the medications most frequently used were phenytoin, Phenobarbital, carbamazepine, and valproic acid (15). Thus, the human research primarily examined the effects of polytherapy. During that period, animal studies (monotherapy studies of the above named drugs) clearly demonstrated that (1) the administration to healthy animals of individual AEDs during pregnancy increased malformations and behavioral abnormalities in the offspring (27,28), and (2) that rates of malformation were increased even when outcomes in offspring from AED exposed rodents or monkeys were compared to outcomes in epileptic animals that had seizures throughout pregnancy (29–31). The human research of these two decades determined that: (1) The prevalence of structural malformation in infants born to women on anticonvulsant polytherapy was increased relative to the general population, while prevalence in infants born to women with untreated seizure disorders did not differ from

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the general population (21,32–35), (2) Among pregnant women taking AEDs for seizure control, the type of seizure disorder (hence possible anoxia for some) did not appear to affect malformation rate (36), (3) The prevalence of major and minor malformations was shown to be dose-related (37), and (4) among infants born to epileptic fathers (hence genetic risks), the prevalence of malformation is lower than among infants born to mothers (33,38,39). More recent studies also document that epileptic women who take AEDs during pregnancy have higher malformation rates among infants than are seen in infants born to unmedicated epileptic women (40,41) or to fathers with epilepsy. Further, it has been shown that when AEDs are used to treat non-epileptic conditions during pregnancy, adverse outcomes are elevated compared to controls (40). Nevertheless, debate continues as to whether the occurrence of seizures during pregnancy may exacerbate risks when AED-exposed women with and without seizures during pregnancy are compared. While evidence clearly establishes that anticonvulsant drugs are teratogenic, certain genetic risk factors associated with some forms of epilepsy are known to increase susceptibility to certain drug-induced adverse outcomes, notably cleft palate (4,42), see later discussion on predictors of susceptibility. Animal studies also demonstrate the importance of genotype to the phenotypic expression of adverse outcomes (4).

THE EFFECTS OF POLYTHERAPY VERSUS MONOTHERAPY TREATMENTS Treatment prior to the mid-1990s involved combinations of medications, mainly hydantoins (Dilantine), barbiturates such as Phenobarbital, carbamazepine, and valproic acid. Thus, studies prior to this time largely focused on the effects of polytherapy. The research also focused on pregnancy outcome or birth characteristics such as major malformations or microcephaly, with non-systematic observations of increased mental retardation and developmental delay (27). As is typically the case, the identification of anticonvulsants as teratogenic drugs progressed from early case reports, to retrospective studies (participants are identified or may choose to participate after outcome is known), to studies involving prospective enrollment. A pure prospective enrollment refers to recruitment of infant subjects during gestation via their pregnant mother. Prospective also often refers simply to enrollment at the time of birth based only on knowledge of exposure, but not on any aspect of outcome. As has been the case for the evolution of studies of structural endpoints, studies focused on behavioral outcome progressed from nonsystematic observation of mental retardation or developmental delay, to studies involving systematic testing but focusing on general mental ability (often referred to as IQ), to studies using batteries of neuropsychological tests to ascertain functioning across multiple domains of processing. Much of the early research lacked rigor with respect to cognitive evaluation which in single studies was done at different ages, using different methods, without experimenter blinding, without control for maternal socio-economic or intellectual characteristics, and with typical attention only to the rates of mental retardation (43). Nevertheless, by convergence, the studies began to establish that use of anticonvulsant medications during pregnancy increased risks for central nervous system (CNS), cardiac, craniofacial, skeletal, growth (including microcephaly), and cognitive defects (21,22,40,42–44). A pattern of abnormalities was identified that included the above along with minor anomalies such as hypertelorism, midface hypoplasia (depressed nasal bridge, short nose with anteverted nostrils), low set ears, single transverse palmar creases, and digital and nail hypoplasia. We will first examine the effects of polytherapy on

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structural and growth endpoints. We will then present the history of neurobehavioral teratology studies. Effects on Structural and Growth Outcomes The early studies suggested that polytherapy was generally more harmful than monotherapy with respect to effects on malformation rates, rates of microcephaly and growth endpoints (22,37,39), thus leading to a consensus judgment that monotherapy should be employed whenever possible (15). Because most women were treated with drug combinations, studies comparing polytherapy cases with monotherapy cases, by necessity collapsed across the individual medications administered in monotherapy due to insufficient sample sizes for individual drugs. Studies were conflicting regarding which combinations of anticonvulsant drugs appeared most harmful: a controversy that resulted in part due to the small numbers of patients on monotherapy that could be studied as well as possible differences across medications in their potency to induce different specific endpoints. In 1974, Hill and colleagues published a review of 20 prior reports that evaluated a total of 1653 infants from mothers on various combinations of AEDs. Across these studies, a 12.5% incidence of congenital abnormalities was reported including cleft lip or palate, heart defects such as ventricular septal defects or patent ductus arteriosus, skeletal anomalies such as clubfoot, dislocated hips, hypoplastic digits and nails, central nervous system malformations including neural tube defects and hydrocephalus, gastrointestinal malformations, genitourinary anomalies, and facial or ear anomalies, and microcephaly. Based on the convergence of findings from the results of prior studies, several larger studies were undertaken. Two studies are noteworthy for their relatively large sample sizes, attention to important risk factors, and the examination of large enough numbers of monotherapy cases to allow comparison across individual medications. Holmes et al. conducted a large scale study between 1986 and 1993 that was designed to detect a tailored subset of adverse outcomes in line with the reported syndrome of major and minor abnormalities (45). The study sought to address the impact of AED treatment versus no treatment among women with seizure disorders, the effects of polytherapy versus monotherapy, as well as to further examine the role of type of epilepsy upon outcome. While not a pure prospective study in which participants would be identified prior to birth, the study did examine the outcomes of pregnancy based on identification of exposed and control women during the labor and delivery period. Women in the labor and delivery suites of five maternity hospitals in the Boston area were interviewed in part to identify women who suffered from epilepsy during pregnancy and who did or did not take medications during pregnancy for seizure control. For each infant born to a medication treated or untreated woman with epilepsy, a control infant was identified from among the 10 infants born closest in time to that infant. Each infant was examined for the presence or absence of major malformations and was given a dysmorphology exam that focused on the minor malformation features previously associated with AED exposure. Outcomes of interest were major malformations, microcephaly, growth retardation, and hypoplasia of the midface and digits. Midface hypoplasia was defined as the presence of two or more of the following features: short nose, long upper lip, telecanthus, or broad nasal bridge. A feature was considered to be present if the measurement value was more than 1 SD above or below the mean values for the control infants. Digital hypoplasia was defined as marked stiffness of the interphalangeal joints or the presence of 6 or more arches among the 10 dermal ridge patterns. Efforts toward more empirical definitions illustrate the

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recognition of the subjectivity of some of these judgments. Indeed, digital hypoplasia is now frequently defined on the basis of measurements from hand radiographs (46,47), a technique used by Kelly in 1984 (48). Following the determination of qualification for study after exclusions of women who had multiple gestation pregnancies, the presence of another teratogenic risk factor, or who were non-English speaking, coupled with loss of subjects based on refusals to participate or later failure to show up for scheduled appointments, the following subject pool resulted: 233 of a possible 386 women with monotherapy AED exposures for the treatment of epilepsy, 93 of a possible 123 women exposed to 2 or more AEDs for the treatment of epilepsy, and 98 out of a possible 98 women with epilepsy who were not treated during pregnancy. Among the 233 women on monotherapy, 87 were taking phenytoin, 64 phenobarbital, 58 carbamazepine, 6 valproic acid, and 8 were taking other AEDs. In addition to the women on AEDs for the treatment of epilepsy, there were 35 women who took AEDs for other indications. Across the outcomes that were measured under blind conditions for 93% of the exams, there were no differences between the infants born to control mothers and those born to women with epilepsy who were not treated with AEDs. 28% of the polytherapy exposed infants had 1 or more of the abnormal outcomes of interest, as compared to 20.6% of infants exposed to prenatal monotherapies, and 8.5% of controls. With respect to the specific outcomes of interest (which were often simultaneously manifest in individual children), among the polytherapy-exposed infants, there was an 8.6% incidence of major malformations, 3.3% exhibited microcephaly, 7.6% growth retardation, 12.7% midface hypoplasia, and 7.9% hypoplasia of the fingers. The Holmes et al. study found no difference in the outcome of infants born to women with “familial” versus “acquired” forms of epilepsy, and no differences in major malformation rate in association with the type of seizure disorder or types of seizures that occurred during pregnancy. Among 35 women on AEDs for the treatment of conditions other than epilepsy, abnormal outcomes were increased above control levels with 9.3% of the infants having major malformations and 25.3% having growth retardation or microcephaly. Thus, this study corroborated earlier findings from smaller studies with respect to effects on structural and growth outcomes, and emphasized the need for a better understanding of the effects of monotherapy in order to best counsel and treat pregnant women with epilepsy. Around the same time that data were collected for the Holmes et al. study, Kaneko et al. conducted a prospective study of the outcome of patients who were primarily enrolled for study during the first trimester of pregnancy (49). This study represented a collaboration among medical centers in Japan, Italy, and Canada from 1978–1991. The investigators were interested in studying the influence of seizure frequency and seizure type during pregnancy upon outcome as well as in examining the effects of polytherapy and dosage amounts on outcome. A total of 983 infants were evaluated of which 500 were on monotherapy treatment regimens. In this study, the incidence of major malformations was 9.0% in the AED-exposed infants and 3.1% in infants without gestational drug exposure. The incidence of major malformations increased as a function of the number of drugs the infant was exposed to as well as the total daily dose of the medications. Major malformation rates were not influenced by the type of epilepsy (familial or acquired), the type of seizures that occurred during pregnancy, the occurrence of seizures during the first trimester, or the frequency of seizures. Like the Holmes et al. study, this large-scale effort corroborated the increased risks associated with polytherapy and emphasized the teratogenic role of the medications as more important to outcome than multiple maternal disease variables.

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Effects on Developmental and Mental Ability Outcomes Concerns about developmental delay and mental retardation in association with polytherapy exposures throughout gestation were initially raised on the basis of case reports by Hanson and Smith (20) and a retrospective study by Speidel and Meadow (24). Prospective studies followed that also suggested generalized developmental delays. These early studies raised concerns about the risks for mental retardation resulting from exposure to anticonvulsant medications, but did not control for parental socioeconomic or educational characteristics. Indeed, the employment of appropriate controls for these variables did not begin until the 1990s. Table 1 presents certain design characteristics and results obtained in selected prospective studies. To be included in the table, the studies must have (1) examined developmental and behavioral outcomes in AED-exposed children that were prospectively identified, (2) compared the findings with those from nonexposed children born to women from the same “community”, and (3) examined the effects of polytherapy upon 20 or more AED-exposed subjects. The first prospective study, conducted in 1974 by Hill et al. (21), followed 28 prenatally AED-exposed infants from birth to 36 months of age as well as 165 unexposed infants that were delivered at the same hospitals. Physical examinations were performed on the infants on 10 occasions during the first 3 years of life, and Gesell developmental evaluations were performed on six occasions beginning at 9 months of age. Seven of the 28 infants had major malformations, and three had developmental quotients less than 90 at 18 months of age. The authors raised concerns about possible lifelong effects on mental ability, while also indicating that many genetic as well as environmental factors were not addressed. In 1982, Hill et al. (22) reported on a larger group of 59 infants born to epileptic mothers compared to 253 non-epileptic controls. In this cohort, the educational backgrounds of the exposed and control parents were recorded and were similar with an average of 14 years for mothers and 15 years for fathers (in the context of the U.S. K-12 system). This sample therefore represented women from middle to high socio-economic backgrounds. Evaluations were performed at some point between 9 months and 9 years of age using the Gesell Psychometric Scale for 9–36 months olds, the Wechsler Preschool and Primary Scale of Intelligence (WPPSI) for 4 years olds, or the Revised Wechsler Intelligence Scale for Children (WISC-R) for older children. Data were reported as the percentage of exposed versus control children that scored !90 (the low average to below average range), in the average range, in the high average to above average range, and greater than 2 SD above the mean for all of these measures. Scores from these tests showed that when measured at 3 years of age or younger, 25% of the infants born to epileptic women scored less than 90 as compared to only 9% of the controls. The authors pointed out, however, that the incidence of children scoring in this lower range was within population norms although lower than the matched controls. This is an important point in that it dispelled the idea of increased rates of mental retardation among children prenatally exposed to AEDs and instead emphasized milder reductions in mental ability or increased rates of learning disabilities. Indeed, Hill et al. (22) suggested that 48% of the infants born to epileptic mothers had some form of learning disability, although the criteria for defining learning disorders were not presented. The authors suggested that the most prominent type of learning disability was a language-based learning disorder. Further, they reported that 35% of the infants born to epileptic women required “special education” as compared to 8% of the control group. Just as an increased number of children scored in the lower end of the normal distribution, fewer exposed children (18%) scored in the high average to above average ranges than did control infants (33%). At later ages, 19% of the exposed compared

28 AEDexposed

Sample size

165 nonexposed infants

Comparison group Birth– 3 years

Age at testing

Birth– Hanson et al. Data from the 104 AED100 non7 years 1976 (19)a exposed exposed Collaborainfants also all includtive Perinafrom the ing PHT tal Project Collabora(24 PHT prenatal tive Perinatal monotherenrollment Project apy) Birth– 252 nonHill et al. Admission to 59 AED9 years exposed exposed 1982 (22) labor and infants delivery suite

Admission to labor and delivery suite

Time of enrollment

Effects on postnatal growth

Modified Gesell Reduced weight, (! 3 years); length, WPPSI and head (4 years); circ. WISC-R (6–9 years)

Reduced general mental ability

Reduced Gesell Develop- Reduced developmental Evaluweight, mental ations length, score and head circ. Reduced Wechsler Intelli- Reduced head circ. general gence Scale mental for Children ability (age 7 years)

Behavioral methods used

Effects on development or general mental ability

Increased languagebased learning problems and increased need for special education

Not reported

Not assessed

Effects on specific abilities

Prospective Studies on the Behavioral Development of Children Exposed to Anticonvulsant Medications During Gestation

Hill et al. 1974 (21)

Study

Table 1

(Continued)

Neonatal withdrawal syndrome for barbiturateand PHTexposed Suggested relationship between presence of syndrome and occurrence of reduced mental ability Polytherapy worse than monotherapy; PHT monotherapy better than PHT C PB; Identified 5 risk factors for reduced mental ability

Other findings

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105 nonexposed infants

41 nonexposed infants

104 AEDexposed

43 AED exposed

Prior to Gaily, conception Kantolaor prenatal Sorsa, and Granstrom, 1990 (63)

Leavitt et al. 1992 (96)

Prior to conception or during 1st trimester of pregnancy

28 nonexposed infants

47 (29 MT; 18 PT)

Sample size

Comparison group

Jager-Roman Prenatal et al. 1982 (53)

Study

Time of enrollment

Behavioral methods used

Effects on postnatal growth

No effects on Mildly 8 wk– Audiology; reduced weight or 12 months Bayley Scales Bayley head of Infant MDI circumferDevelopment scores ence

Reduced Reduced 6–24 months Denver Develpsychoweight, opmental motor length, Scale; performand head Munchener ance circ. Funktionelle Entwicklungsdiagnostik Not reported No differExamined at WPPSI and ences in 5.5 years Illinois Test of general Psycholinmental guistic Abilability ities

Age at testing

Effects on development or general mental ability

Increased risks were associated with seizures during pregnancy and with low paternal education Polytherapy lower than monotherapy Increased # with low scores on specific measures

Not evaluated

Polytherapy worse than monotherapy; Improvement in some after age 1

Other findings

Not assessed

Effects on specific abilities

Table 1 Prospective Studies on the Behavioral Development of Children Exposed to Anticonvulsant Medications During Gestation (Continued)

112 Adams et al.

Steinhausen Prenatal et al. 1994 (50)b and Losche et al. 1994 (54)

VanOverloop Labor and delivery et al. 1992 suite (55)

WPPSI (age 4); Not reported Reduced Birth– 98 non20 AEDgeneral WISC-R and 9 years of exposed exposed, mental other age infants with all includability measures of 3 or more ing PHT specific minor (15 were abilities anomalies; PHT-PB (6–9 years) also 20 combimatched on nation) parity, socioeconomic status, and child sex and age Brazelton Neo- Not reported Reduced 34–73 vary- 42–67 varying Birth– general 6 years natal Behaacross ing across mental vioral Assessmeasures; measures ability ment Scale Matched on (NBAS); socioecovideotaped nomic status; maternalmaternal age child interand parity action; and other HOME factors Inventory; Bayley Scales of Infant Development; WPPSI; and other tests of specific abilities as well as psychopathology Reduced motor performance; Reduced verbal and non-verbal performance; Increased speech problems

Reduced nonverbal performance and drawing ability compared to both comparison groups

(Continued)

No effects in infants born to epileptic women not on meds or epileptic fathers; Polytherapy worse than monotherapy.

Combination therapy with PHT and PB appeared to account for these results.

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99 born to healthy mothers; controlled for parental income, maternal education and age, gestational age of child

66 nonexposed infants

Comparison group

Birth–3 yr

Birth– 5 years

Age at testing

Effects on postnatal growth

Effects on specific abilities

No difference Griffith’s Test of Not reported No differon specific Development ence in subscales general score Reduced Reduced Enjoji’s Analyti- Reduced motor, developlength and cal Developsocial, mental head cirment Test; speech and performcumferneurological language ance at 1.5 ence at exams, strucscores and birth but tured 3 years not at interviews 3 years

Behavioral methods used

PHT (but not polytherapy) reduced locomotor development AED dose and small head size associated with reduced developmental scores at 1.5 years, but effects of socioeconomic background was more important at age 3.

Other findings

Note: In order to be included in this table, studies must have utilized prospective ascertainment prior to known behavioral outcome of the children, must have evaluated a sample size O20 AED-exposed children, and must have evaluated a control/comparison group from a similar population and locale. a Hanson et al. 1976 also reported on 35 cases who were not compared to controls and where cognitive outcome was not formally measured. b Steinhausen et al. 1994 represents an increased sample size in the context of the same sample reported on by Hattig and Steinhausen 1987.

Prenatal or at 71 AEDbirth exposed

Hirano et al. 2004 (98)

67 AEDexposed

Prenatal

Sample size

Wide et al. 2002 (97)

Study

Time of enrollment

Effects on development or general mental ability

Table 1 Prospective Studies on the Behavioral Development of Children Exposed to Anticonvulsant Medications During Gestation (Continued)

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to 4% of the controls scored less than 90, and 62% exposed versus 69% of controls scored in the higher ranges. Thus, some improvement was seen with age. Hill et al. (22) also reported that mental development scores of children born to women on polytherapy were lower than those on monotherapies, a finding our prior discussion demonstrated as consistent for effects on structural outcomes. They also reported that Phenobarbital and phenytoin in combination acted to reduce scores. Prognostic risk factors for reduced developmental scores included being small-forgestational age at birth, exhibiting failure to thrive in the early months of life, having one or more major malformation, and having nine or more minor anomalies. Hill et al. suggested that these factors should be used to channel infants into programs for identifying learning related problems. This now classic study set the stage for later studies to examine functional outcomes as well as morphologic effects, and to examine effects on general mental ability as well as specific areas of weakness. Despite this early and compelling flag for the importance of monitoring childhood neurobehavioral outcome with respect to general as well as specific mental abilities, only a small subset of past and ongoing research on the teratogenicity of AEDs have included any measures of intellectual functioning. Nevertheless when cognitive abilities are measured, they are now done so alongside measures of performance in specific areas of processing as shown in Table 1. With respect to polytherapy effects on mental ability of the offspring, reduced scores in children born to epileptic mothers on AEDs in comparison to control non-exposed, nonepileptic women have now been reported in multiple prospective studies as shown in Table 1. These effects have been shown to be more pronounced than among “monotherapy” samples in which individual medications were collapsed into a single group and not separately examined. Consistent with effects on structural outcomes, Steinhausen et al. also demonstrated that infants born to non-medicated women with epilepsy or born of epileptic fathers were not at increased risks for reduced mental ability (50). In addition to the prospective studies of cognitive outcome that have been presented, there are also a few studies of the educational performance of AED-exposed children. These studies are based on retrospective ascertainment of subjects, nevertheless, the information about classroom performance is important to consider. As previously noted, Hill et al. reported that 35% of the infants born to AED-exposed epileptic women required “special education” as compared to 8% of the control group. Adab et al. conducted a retrospective survey in the United Kingdom of mothers with epilepsy and the “schooling” characteristics of their children (43). The questionnaire ascertained the need for additional educational supports among these children. Among the 156 non-exposed children born to women with epilepsy, 12.8% required additional supports. Among 188 AED-exposed children, 19.1% required educational supports. The authors also suggested that children exposed to valproate monotherapy were most likely to require extra attention with 43% of the 39 VPA monotherapy-exposed children receiving extra services, while only 2 of 61 carbamazepine-exposed children required additional educational intervention. While parental education characteristics were not taken into account, the difference across medications is striking. In a Scandinavian cohort, Dessens et al. looked retrospectively at children born to 172 AED-exposed mothers versus a group of 168 children matched on parental education and socioeconomic status. They reported that 9.5% of the AEDexposed versus 5.0% of the control children were referred during primary grades to special schools for children with learning problems (51). However, at secondary educational levels, 12% of the exposed and only 1% of the controls received services. These studies suggest the need to understand not only the influence of AED exposure upon cognitive test score performance, but also upon classroom performance, with particular attention to the

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relationships between the two. Both types of information will be necessary to identify the full spectrum of adverse outcomes associated with prenatal AED exposure. In light of the recognition that polytherapy as compared to monotherapy with certain drugs increases the rates of adverse structural as well as functional outcomes, the suggestions that certain drugs may be more harmful than others, and the demonstration that AEDs themselves are harmful during pregnancy, research during the last decade has shifted to efforts at identifying the differential risks associated with the use of each medication. The goal for the last decade has been to try to identify the least harmful drug for use in pregnant women with epilepsy. While most of this work focuses on structural and growth endpoints, several studies have examined the effects of monotherapy exposures on cognitive functioning during infancy or childhood.

THE TERATOGENIC EFFECTS OF MONOTHERAPY WITH PHENYTOIN, PHENOBARBITAL, CARBAMAZEPINE, AND VALPROIC ACID Table 2 presents the results of prospective studies that have examined conventional teratogenic endpoints. To be included in Table 2, studies must have utilized prospective designs. In order for data on an individual medication to be included, the study must have examined 19 or more monotherapy-exposed cases. There were occasions where studies may have compared across meds, but where only data on a subset of the drugs is presented in the table due to small sample size. Table 2 reveals that despite the fact that most of these studies have been conducted since 1990; the research is still marked by greater attention to major malformations than to minor anomalies or effects on growth. The absence of reported measures of minor malformations is particularly striking given that these malformations have been identified as important aspects of the “fetal anticonvulsant syndrome.” The research presented in Table 2 also illustrates the infrequency of addressing dose-related effects. One reason for this is that the clinical doses necessary for the control of seizures appear to be above the teratogenic threshold and are also often quite narrow in range. As can be seen in the table, valproic acid appears to represent an exception. Phenytoin (PHT) Despite coining the term “fetal hydantoin syndrome” to describe their results, Hanson and Smith actually reported upon the effects of exposure to combination therapies that included phenytoin (20). Many years of research have been necessary to tease apart the effects of the typical combination therapies from the effects of individual medications used as sole treatment. Table 2 summarizes findings from several studies aimed at examining the differential impact of exposure across monotherapy treatments or at examining effects in single drugs. As can be seen, Holmes et al. report lower major malformation rates than do Kaneko et al. or Vajda et al. with respect to both the PHT-exposed group and the controls (45,49,52). For each study, however, PHT exposure at least doubles the rate of major malformations. Differences across studies may be due to the exact malformations defined as major. As shown, Holmes et al. also reported on microcephaly as a separate category and on growth retardation and minor anomalies (45). Prenatal exposure to PHT markedly increased the occurrence of midface hypoplasia and hypoplasia of the fingers. In the Holmes et al. study, the rate of major malformations in 87 PHT monotherapy patients was 3.4% as compared to a rate of 8.6% in 93 infants exposed to 2 or more anticonvulsant drugs and 1.8% in 508 controls (45). Microcephaly was seen at a rate of 1.1% following

Phenobarbital

Phenytoin

98 unexposed with a seizure history

143 non-exposed with no seizure history 27 non-exposed with seizure disorders 105 non-exposed with no seizure history 508 non-exposed with no seizure history

132

55

64

46

26

508 non-exposed with no seizure history

87

# and nature of controls

4.7% vs. 1.8%

Not reported

10.5% vs. 4.3%

Not reported

No effect on head circumference No effect on head circumference 4.8% vs. 1.6%

No effect

1.1% vs. 1.6%

3.4% vs. 1.8%

9.1% vs. 3.1%

Rate of microcephaly or measurement of reduced head circumference

Rate of major malformations in exposed versus controls

1.6% vs. 1.2%

No effect on birth weight or length Increased birth weight and length Not reported

2.3 vs. 1.2

Growth effects

Not reported

Not present

Yes, with teratogenic effects seen at O200 mg/day Not present

Not examined

Dose-related effects

Not examined Midface hypoplasia: 15.2% vs. 3.8%; Finger hypoplasia: 9.6% vs. 2.3%

Not reported

Not reported

Not reported

Midface hypoplasia: 13.2% vs. 3.8%; Finger hypoplasia: 12.2% vs. 2.3% Not reported

Minor anomalies

(Continued)

Holmes et al. 2001 (45)

Gaily et al. 1990 (102)

Hiilesma et al. 1981 (100) Vajda et al. 2003 (101)

Kaneko et al. 1999 (99)

Holmes et al. 2001 (45)

Source

The Effects of Exposure to Monotherapeutic Treatment with Antiepileptic Drugs During Gestation Upon Structural and Growth Outcomes of Infants

# of exposed AED used in monotherapy monotherapy (MT) cases

Table 2

The Structural and Functional Teratology of Antiepileptic Medications 117

Carbamazepine

98 unexposed with a seizure history 143 non-exposed with no seizure history 27 non-exposed with seizure disorders

158

123

20

508 non-exposed with no seizure history

3.3 vs. 4.3%

Not reported

5.7% vs. 3.1%

5.2% vs. 1.8%

98 unexposed with 5.1% vs. 3.1% seizure disorders 105 unexposed with Not reported no seizure history

# and nature of controls

58

55

80

# of exposed AED used in monotherapy monotherapy (MT) cases

Rate of major malformations in exposed versus controls

Reduced head circumference No effect on head circumference

Not reported

(Reduced head circumference) 3.6% vs. 1.6%

Not reported

Rate of microcephaly or measurement of reduced head circumference

No effect on birth weight or length No effect on birth weight or length

Not reported

5.3% vs. 1.2%

Reduced birth weight

Not reported

Growth effects

Not examined Midface hypoplasia: 5.3% vs. 3.8%; Finger hypoplasia: 0% vs. 2.3% Not reported

Not present

Not present

Not reported

Not reported

Not present

Not examined

Not present

Dose-related effects

Not reported

Not reported

Minor anomalies

Kaneko et al. 1999 (49) Hiilesma et al. 1981 (100) Vajda et al. 2003 (101)

Kaneko et al. 1999 (49) Mastroiacovo et al. 1988 (61) Holmes et al. 2001 (45)

Source

Table 2 The Effects of Exposure to Monotherapeutic Treatment with Antiepileptic Drugs During Gestation Upon Structural and Growth Outcomes of Infants (Continued)

118 Adams et al.

Hospital population 10.7% vs. 1.6% norms

149

Not reported

No effect on head circumference

16.7% vs. 4.3%

27 non-exposed with seizure history

Not reported

Not reported

Not reported

No effect on birth weight or length

Not reported

Not reported

Not reported

Not reported Not reported No effect on head circumference Not reported for Not reported for Not reported MT cases MT cases only only

11.1% vs. 3.1%

97

98 unexposed with a seizure history

Not reported 105 non-exposed with no seizure history 5.3% vs. 2.75% 182 non-exposed women with seizure disorders Matalon et al. 2002 (103)

Kaneko et al. 1999 (49)

Not reported

Malformed infants were exposed to higher maternal levels than non-malformeda Malformed infants were exposed to higher maternal levels than non-malformedb Not reported

Wyszynski et al. 2005 (74)

Vajda et al. 2003 (101)

Gaily et al. 1990 (102)

Not reported

Note: This table only includes prospective studies with sample sizes greater than 19 exposed cases. When a study examined !19 cases for one drug and O 19 cases for another drug, only the data from the drug(s) with the larger sample are included. a Malformed infants were exposed to VPA levels of 77.8 mg/dl (from R1000 mg doses) while non-malformed were exposed to VPA levels of 46.8 mg/dl. b Malformed infants were exposed to mean VPA doses of 2081 mg/day while non-malformed were exposed to 1149 mg/day.

Valproic Acid

Meta-analysis of 16 studies: 797 MT cases 81

19

The Structural and Functional Teratology of Antiepileptic Medications 119

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PHT exposure, 3.3% following polydrug therapy, and 1.6% in controls: thus microcephaly was not increased by PHT monotherapy in this cohort. Growth retardation was present in 2.3% of the PHT-exposed versus 7.6% of the polytherapy cases and 1.2% of the controls. Midface hypoplasia occurred at a rate of 13.2% among the PHT-exposed, 12.7% in the polytherapy exposed group, and 3.8% of the controls. Hypoplasia of the fingers was seen in 12.2% of the PHT-exposed, 7.9% of the infants exposed to 2 or more AEDs, and 2.3% of the controls. In this cohort, the incidence of PHT monotherapy-induced effects was lower than the levels associated with monotherapy with Phenobarbital or carbamazepine with respect to major malformations and microcephaly. With respect to growth retardation in this study, PHT appeared to have less impact than carbamazepine. However, midface hypoplasia appeared to be somewhat higher among PHT and PB monotherapy-exposed infants than among carbamazepine infants, and hypoplasia of the fingers appeared higher in PHT monotherapy cases than either of the other drugs examined. Distal phalangeal hypoplasia or hypoplasia of the fingers has been noted as a primary sign of PHT teratogenicity in several studies, including studies using measurements from hand radiographs (46,48). The Kaneko et al. study described above also included 500 infants exposed to monotherapy, of which 132 were PHT-exposed (49). The occurrence of major malformations among the PHT cases was dose-related with most of the mothers having been exposed to 200 mg/day or more of PHT. The rate of major malformations was 9.1% among the PHT-exposed infants, and although values across medications did not differ statistically, this rate was higher than what was associated with Phenobarbital or carbamazepine, and lower than what was recorded for valproic acid or primidone. While it was the early reports of combination therapies including phenytoin as a component that generated concern about cognitive deficits, notably mental retardation (19,21,22), there have been few studies that have assessed the effects of PHT monotherapy upon cognitive outcome of the child. Nevertheless, several studies of phenytoin in combination particularly with Phenobarbital indicate effects on learning ability (51,53,54) and some have suggested that PHT monotherapy led to lesser risks than combination therapies (22,55). Ongoing research by Holmes, Adams, and coworkers is examining the effects of monotherapy with phenytoin, carbamazepine, or Phenobarbital. Our cohort has been drawn from the labor and delivery room surveillance sample that identified exposed cases examined in the Holmes et al. (45) study, as well as from referrals from obstetricians, pediatricians, and neurologists. While the subjects have either been identified in childhood or at the time of birth, a preliminary comparison of the demographic features and educational backgrounds of the parents as well as the children’s intellectual performance when identified at birth versus later in childhood suggest that the two sources of subjects are reasonably comparable. Nevertheless, our sample should be thought of as utilizing a combination of retrospective and prospective ascertainment while also being biased towards favorable outcomes. The parents of the children under study are primarily collegeeducated with a large number of individuals with advanced degrees. Merits of the study are that exposed children have been matched to non-exposed controls according to child sex and age, as well as maternal age and parental educational levels. Maternal evaluations of intelligence are also performed using the Wechsler Adult Intelligence Scale-III. Potential subjects have been excluded based on exposure to other teratogenic risks, occurrence of tonic-clonic seizures leading to loss of consciousness or hospitalization in the mother during pregnancy, maternal or paternal mental retardation, non-English speaking parents, or the presence of other neurological risks in the child (such as head injury or CNS infection). Children in this study have been (and continue to be) evaluated between 6 and

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16 years of age through a dysmorphological exam, skeletal evaluation through hand radiographs, craniofacial measurements from digital photos and imaging, hearing and visual screening, and a neuropsychological battery. The neuropsychological battery has been designed to measure general mental ability (WISC-III) and specific cognitive domains including language-based processing, visuo-spatial and visuomotor abilities, fine motor speed and coordination, verbal and visual memory, and attention and planning abilities (including performance on auditory and visual continuous performance tasks). Although neuropsychological test performance is measured across the ages of 6 to 16 yr, each AED-exposed child’s performance is compared to that of a control matched on sex, age, parental education, and socioeconomic status. While our target is 40 exposed and 40 control children for each monotherapy-exposed drug group, these targets have not yet been reached. Data for the structural endpoints have not yet been reported for these specific PHT monotherapy-exposed subjects, but cognitive findings were reported when the sample included 17 matched pairs (56). At this sample size, no differences were found in general mental ability, verbal or non-verbal performance on the WISC-III between the PHT-exposed children and their matched controls. Indeed, mean full-scale IQ scores were 111.7 for the PHT-exposed children and 113.5 for the controls. These results suggests that phenytoin when used as monotherapy may be associated with low risks for adverse cognitive outcome, despite its prominent role as a harmful agent in a polytherapy context, and despite early reports that did not control for parental intelligence or socioeconomic status. Phenobarbital (PB) Phenobarbital was widely used during the earlier studies of anticonvulsant polytherapy and continues to be used today. With respect to structural outcomes, monotherapeutic use of PB during pregnancy has been linked to cardiac and craniofacial abnormalities (45), midface hypoplasia (27,42,45,57,58), digital and nail hypoplasia (59), reduced birth weight, and head circumference (60–62). As can be seen in Table 2, both Holmes et al. and Kaneko et al. report major malformation rates around 5% for PB monotherapy-exposed cases against 2–3% rates in controls (45,49). Holmes et al. also reported that the infants born to PB-exposed versus unexposed, non-epileptic women, or polytherapy-exposed women, had rates of microcephaly of 4.8%, 1.6%, and 3.3%, and rates of growth retardation of 1.6%, 1.2%, and 7.6% respectively (45). Midface hypoplasia was noted in 15.2% of the PB group, 3.8% of the unexposed controls, and 12.7% of the polytherapy exposed infants. Hypoplasia of the fingers was seen in 9.6%, 2.3%, and 7.9% respectively across the groups. These findings suggest that PB exposure places an infant at increased risks for most of the adverse structural outcomes with minor abnormalities as prominent hallmarks of the syndrome. Reduced cognitive ability in association with PB exposure has been reported in several studies (63–65). Reinisch et al. emphasized language processing as an area of specific weakness. Deficits in general mental ability, verbal, and non-verbal performance have been reported by Adams and coworkers (66) based on preliminary findings from our ongoing research. As described above, this study involves the examination of the teratogenic effects of PB monotherapy with respect to dysmorphology, additional examination of digital skeletal anomalies by x-ray of the hands and of craniofacial characteristics by imaging and digital photos, as well as a complete neuropsychological exam at a single age between 6 and 16 yr. With respect to cognitive functioning, preliminary data based on 23 PB-exposed and 23 matched controls has shown that on the WISC-III, the leading measure of mental ability in children, PB-exposed children scored

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11 points lower in general mental ability than controls matched on age, sex, and parental educational level (66). Despite this reduction, mean performance was well within the average range with a mean among the exposed children of 104.5 as compared to 115.8 in the matched control children. Multivariate analyses performed on processing related measures (language-based tests, visual-perceptual, verbal memory, non-verbal memory, drawing, and motor measures) revealed weaknesses in both language-based processing and visual-perceptual ability. It is important to point out that a neonatal barbiturate withdrawal syndrome is often manifest in infants exposed to PB throughout pregnancy (18). Although described by Hill et al. (21) in 1974, no studies of the effects of PB monotherapy on cognitive outcome are known that have examined the relationship between the occurrence or magnitude of early withdrawal, its treatment, or its association with later cognitive performance (21).

Carbamazepine (CBZ) Carbamazepine has been associated with increased risks for neural tube defects, a pattern of minor malformations involving craniofacial structures, digital and nail hypoplasia, as well as reduced birthweight and head circumference, increased risks for developmental delay, and reduced cognitive performance (34,67,68). As can be seen in Table 2, reported rates of major malformations are generally around 5% but effects on other endpoints have been inconsistent. Holmes et al. did not find significant increases in either midface or digit hypoplasia (45). Adverse effects on cognitive outcome have also been inconsistent with normal intelligence reported by Gaily et al. in a cohort of 86 carbamazepine monotherapy exposed children compared to educationally and socioeconomically matched controls (69). The ongoing collaborative research of Holmes and Adams described above also addresses the effects of monotherapy with CBZ during pregnancy in the context of the same design characteristics. To date, we have evaluated 35 matched pairs of monotherapyexposed and control children (70). The WISC-III performance of these children differed from controls with respect to general mental ability, verbal IQ, and performance IQ. Nevertheless, mean performance of the CBZ-exposed children was within the average range. Analyses of performance in specific domains suggested more consistent effects upon language-based processing. While carbamazepine is established as a teratogen that increases risks for neural tube defects as well as other major malformations, effects on other endpoints are unclear. Thus, a great deal more research is needed to determine whether carbamazepine presents additional risks beyond increased major malformations.

Valproic Acid (VPA) Valproic acid medications (Depakotee, Valproatee, Valreleasee) are widely used for the treatment of convulsive disorders, neuropathic pain, migraine headaches, and bipolar and schizo-affective disorders. First trimester VPA exposure for the treatment of epilepsy has been associated with neural, craniofacial, cardiovascular, skeletal, and urogenital defects (71,72), as well as growth retardation, mental retardation, and reduced intelligence (42,73). This profile is similar to that reported for polytherapy with other anticonvulsant medications and also includes minor anomalies such as hypertelorism, midface hypoplasia, low set ears, and digital and nail hypoplasia [(27,42,73,45); also, Consensus Guidelines for Pregnant Women with Epilepsy (15)].

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Despite certain similarities across anticonvulsants, however, the developing embryo appears to be more sensitive to VPA than to the older medications that have been most widely examined in polytherapy studies. Research by Wyszynski et al. (74) on registrants in the National Antiepileptic Drug Pregnancy Registry (AED Registry) has focused on the frequency of major birth defects in babies whose mothers were exposed to valproate (VPA) in comparison to other anticonvulsant drug exposures. Participants were prospectively enrolled before the status of their fetuses was known (enrollment usually taking place prior to 16 weeks gestational age), and the study ascertained 149 completed pregnancies exposed to VPA as monotherapy. Wyszynski et al. (74) reported the prevalence of major birth defects in babies following exposure to VPA to be 10.7%, as compared to 2.9% in the control group exposed to other anticonvulsant monotherapies, and 1.6% in the unexposed group drawn from hospital records. Other research has shown that neural tube defects occur in 1–2% of infants exposed to VPA in utero (75), a rate that is 10–20 times the general population rate (76,77). In addition to the increased rate of major malformations, there appear to be a far greater number of VPA-exposed pregnancies that result in children with developmental delays and/or intellectual impairments (78,79). Estimates for these outcomes range from 20–71% (78,80). Adab and colleagues (81) have reported decreased verbal IQs compared to a group of unexposed siblings and to children exposed to other AEDs. These deficits were more often seen in children with dysmorphic features. Increased social, language, and learning disabilities have also been reported (82). Accurate estimation of the number of VPA-exposed children with compromised cognitive and/or social development is difficult, however, because studies typically have involved retrospective (after outcome is known) identification of participants which may have resulted in biased samples, and have not adequately matched exposed and control cases on parental educational and demographic characteristics. The studies may therefore over-represent children with problems, and misinterpret the presence of social deficits under conditions that did not take into account the influence of reduced intelligence. Recent attention has been focused on the possible increased risks for autism spectrum disorders (ASD) among prenatal VPA-exposed children (8,83–86). Rodier highlighted a shared neuropathology among individuals with autism and animals and humans exposed to VPA, summarized case reports of VPA-exposed children who had ASD, and then presented an elegant teratological model that explained and logically accounted for various symptoms of autism. This compelling model and its promising new avenue for investigating a mechanistic etiology of ASD have drawn considerable attention. Nevertheless, the empirical relationship between VPA exposure and autism is quite tenuous and in need of careful, systematic examination. While reports of an association between prenatal VPA exposure and autism have been published, all have been based either on retrospective samples or case reports, and none have controlled for the level of mental retardation in the children (87, 88). This is problematic given that the diagnosis of autism and ASD is far more difficult and far less reliable among moderately to severely mentally retarded children (89), and prevalence rates are estimated to be between 38% to well above 50% among general samples of these low-functioning individuals (90–92). In summary, monotherapeutic treatment with each of the historically prominent AEDs has been associated with teratogenic risks. PB and VPA have been associated with adverse cognitive outcomes across studies. VPA and CBZ have been associated with elevated risks for neural tube defects. The magnitude of reduced mental ability appears less severe for PB but potentially quite severe for VPA. The cognitive effects associated with PHT and CBZ have been demonstrated less consistently following monotherapy

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treatment, but when demonstrated, effects have been on the milder end of the continuum. Nevertheless, mild effects on general mental ability may manifest potentially as learning disabilities or specific areas of weakness. Such effects can be quite compromising for the individual child and family. A great deal more research must be done to rank order the safety of these medications during pregnancy, and it is essential that the research examine effects on general and specific mental abilities as well as structural endpoints. At present, however, based on limited information on cognitive outcome, more flags have been raised regarding the increased risks associated with VPA exposure than for the other medications examined in this review.

INDIVIDUALIZED PREDICTORS OF SUSCEPTIBILITY TO ADVERSE OUTCOME THAT CAN BE ASSESSED DURING PREGNANCY OR AT BIRTH While it is of critical importance that the comprehensive teratogenicity of the antiepileptic medications be understood across individual drugs, it is equally important that individual risk factors of the mother and fetus be identified. Research suggests that some women and fetuses may be more susceptible to the teratogenic effects of AEDs on the basis of specific genetic features relevant to drug metabolism. Such knowledge could be quite valuable in the counseling of the individual woman considering pregnancy or the pregnant woman on medication who needs to understand her personal risk status. Likewise, it would be quite valuable if individualized risk factors present at birth that predict risks for long term cognitive outcome could be identified. Such knowledge would facilitate referral of infants into early intervention programs that could facilitate their outcome. The status of knowledge with respect to each of these arenas is discussed below.

Genetic Markers of Increased Susceptibility Research on the molecular basis of teratogenic action has proliferated in recent years. Finnell et al. (4) have presented a review of this research and that is the primary source for the following description of this knowledge. Development from zygote to infant involves the complex orchestration of precisely regulated developmental events. The occurrence of these events involves the exact timing of the production, release, reception, and response to chemical signals that vary according to highly controlled molecular and biochemical “dose” and dose-dependently triggered response cascades. Teratogens interfere with these events and cause alterations in development. Anticonvulsant medications or metabolites of the medications interfere with certain signaling pathways relevant to embryonic and fetal development (4). In animal models, certain genes have been identified that alter drug metabolism and increase the susceptibility to the teratogenic effects of phenytoin, Phenobarbital, and valproic acid. Certain inbred strains of mice have been identified that vary according to their teratogenic response to valproic acid from highly-resistant to highly sensitive, particularly with respect to the occurrence of neural tube defects. It is believed that a genetic component is also important in the induction of neural tube defects in women who take valproic acid during pregnancy. This putative relationship demands further exploration given its potential relevance to the identification, counseling, and treatment of women with seizure disorders and other disorders for which anticonvulsant medications are often administered.

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Infant Dysmorphological Characteristics as Predictors of Later Neuropsychological Functioning Hanson et al. first suggested that AED-exposed infants with a syndrome of major and minor malformations might be at increased risks for reduced mental ability (19). Hill et al. identified the presence of minor anomalies as among five risk factors that should be used to channel infants into programs for identifying learning related problems (22). Nevertheless, formal studies of this association have been more recent. Mawer et al. reported a predictive association between dysmorphic features and developmental delay among VPA-exposed infants (93). Ornoy and Cohen suggested a similar correlation among a group of CBZexposed infants (68). Holmes et al. examined the relationships between structural outcomes and cognitive ability in 80 children exposed to AEDs during prenatal development (94). They found no predictive association between major malformations (in this cohort, only one child had a major malformation of the CNS) and later mental ability. Not surprisingly, a correlation was found between the presence of microcephaly and reduced mental ability. When children with microcephaly were excluded from an analysis of the association between midface and/or digit hypoplasia and cognitive outcome, these minor malformations were found to be predictive. This correlation between structural defects that can be measured at birth and later general mental ability is potentially of great importance given that midface and digit hypoplasia are the two most common manifestations of the fetal anticonvulsant syndrome. Holmes et al. recommend that the presence of these features warrants referral of the infant into early intervention programs (94).

FUTURE RESEARCH NEEDS It is evident that more research needs to be done to establish the effects of monotherapy with anticonvulsants during pregnancy upon the structural and functional outcomes of the children. This is true not only with respect to the specific AEDs reviewed in this paper but to the new regime of anticonvulsant medications as well. Essential to this research is attention to effects on general mental ability as well as to abilities in specific domains of processing. Moreover, research needs to be undertaken on the influence of exposure upon socio-emotional and psychiatric characteristics of the children. This research is critical in order to fully characterize the relationships between exposure and incidence of reduced mental ability, learning disabilities, social dysfunction, and psychiatric disturbance. It is also important that the academic relevance of mild reductions in ability be examined through research looking at children’s classroom performance as well as performance on standardized achievement tests. Further, given that anticonvulsant medications are known to disrupt thyroid and growth hormone functioning in women and their exposed offspring (18), these effects need to be examined with respect to their contributions to effects on growth and cognition following prenatal exposures. Likewise, a better understanding of the impact of neonatal withdrawal to certain medications upon later childhood functioning is needed. Finally, predictors of individual risks need to be better understood. Research must examine the relationships between individual genetic susceptibilities and cognitive as well as structural outcomes of children prenatally exposed to AED medications. Also, it is paramount that investigators pursue a greater understanding of the infant characteristics at birth that are associated with increased risks for cognitive as well as social or psychiatric dysfunction, and that these data be used to facilitate the outcomes of high risk infants through early referral for targeted intervention. Some will read this proposed research agenda and say “dream on” while others will see it as central to the dream of providing all

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families and all children with an equal opportunity for success. The latter group may support undertaking this research at any cost. The former group may be influenced by a few fiscal facts. Finnell et al. highlight research indicating that in the state of California alone, the estimated lifetime costs for children with spina bifida is more than $58 million, for conotruncal heart defects, more than $287 million, and for orofacial clefts, $86 million (4). They conservatively suggested that multiplying those figures by a factor of 10 would provide an estimate for this subset of malformations for the United States as a whole. The Centers for Disease Control estimated that the direct and indirect lifetime economic costs in the United States for persons born in 2000 with mental retardation would be $51.2 billion (95) (valued in 2003 dollars). Across the named endpoints, approximately $55 billion dollars will be spent over a lifetime of care. This alarming figure does not include estimates for providing public school services to children with learning disabilities. These estimates establish the paramount importance of conducting more research on the effects of teratogens on childhood outcome and the many variables that influence susceptibility to adverse outcome following exposure. It appears that an ounce of prevention would be worth a pound of cure.

REFERENCES 1. Wilson J. Environment and Birth Defects. New York: Academic Press, 1973. 2. Adams J, Barone S, LaMantia A, et al. Workshop to identify critical windows of exposure for children’s health: neurobehavioral workshop summary. Environ Health Perspect 2000; 108:535–544. 3. Chambers CD, Braddock SR, Briggs GG, Einarson A, Johnson YR, Miller RK, Polifka JE, Robinson LK, Stepanuk K, Jones KL. Postmarketing surveillance for human teratogenicity: a model approach. Teratology 2001; 64:252–261. 4. Finnell RH, Gelineau van Waes J, Eudy JD, Rosenquist TH. Molecular basis of environmentally induced birth defects. Ann Rev Pharmacol Toxicol 2002; 42:181–208. 5. Rice D, Barone S, Jr. Critical periods of vulnerability for the developing nervous system: evidence from humans and animal models. Environ Health Perspect 2000; 108:511–533. 6. CDC. Epilepsy: One of the Nation’s Most Common Disabling Neurological Conditions [website]. National Center for Chronic Disease Prevention and Health Promotion. Vol. 2005, 2004. 7. Janulewicz PA, Gavin JAL, Meyer E, Adams J. Pattern of psychosocial and attentional characteristics of children exposed to Phenobarbital monotherapy in utero. Neurotoxicol Teratol 2001; 23:294. 8. Rodier PM. The early origins of autism. Sci Am 2000; 282:56–63. 9. Rodier PM, Bryson SE, Welch JP. Minor malformations and physical measurements in autism: data from Nova Scotia. Teratology 1997; 55:319–325. 10. Schantz SL, Widholm JJ. Cognitive effects of endocrine-disrupting chemicals in animals. Environ Health Perspect 2001; 109:1197–1206. 11. Weiss B. Sexually dimorphic nonreproductive behaviors as indicators of endocrine disruption. Environ Health Perspect 2002; 110:387–391. 12. Vorhees CV. Principles of Behavioral Teratology. New York: Plenum Press, 1986. 13. Weiss B. Vulnerability of children and the developing brain to neurotoxic hazards. Environ Health Perspect 2000; 108:375–381. 14. Adams J. Neural and Behavioral Pathology Following Prenatal Exposure to Retinoids. New York: Marcel Dekker, 1993. 15. Delgado-Escueta AV, Janz D. Consensus guidelines: preconception counseling, management, and care of the pregnant woman with epilepsy. Neurology 1992; 42:149–160.

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16. Fairgrieve SD, Jackson M, Jonas P, et al. Population based, prospective study of the care of women with epilepsy in pregnancy. BMJ 2000; 321:674–675. 17. Yerby MS. Risks of pregnancy in women with epilepsy. Epilepsia 1992; 33:S23–S27. 18. Kaneko S. Antiepileptic drug therapy and reproductive consequences: functional and morphological effects. Reprod Toxicol 1991; 5:179–198. 19. Hanson JW, Myrianthopoulos NC, Harvey MA, Smith DW. Risks to the offspring of women treated with hydantoin anticonvulsants, with emphasis to the fetal hydantoin syndrome. J Pediatr 1976; 89:662–668. 20. Hanson JW, Smith DW. The fetal hydantoin syndrome. J Pediatr 1975; 87:285–290. 21. Hill RM, Verniaud WM, Horning MG, et al. Infants exposed in utero to antiepileptic drugs. A prospective study.. Am J Dis Child 1974; 127:645–653. 22. Hill RM, Verniaud WM, Rettig GM, Tennyson LM, Craig JP. Relationship Between Antiepileptic Drug Exposure of the Infant and Developmental Potential. New York: Raven Press, 1982. 23. Meadow SR. Anticonvulsant drugs and congenital abnormalities. Lancet 1968; 2:1296. 24. Speidel BD, Meadow SR. Maternal epilepsy and abnormalities of the fetus and newborn. Lancet 1972; 2:839–843. 25. Gaily E, Granstrom ML, Hiilesmaa V, Bardy A. Minor anomalies in offspring of epileptic mothers. J Pediatr 1988; 112:520–529. 26. Gaily E, Kantola-Sorsa E, Granstro¨m ML. Intelligence of children of epileptic mothers. J Pediat 1988; 113:677–684. 27. Adams J, Vorhees CV, Middaugh LD. Developmental neurotoxicity of anticonvulsants: human and animal evidence on Phenytoin. Neurotoxicol Teratol 1990; 12:203–214. 28. Middaugh LD. Phenobarbital during pregnancy in mouse and man. Neurotoxicology 1986; 7:287–301. 29. Finnell RH, Abbott LC, Taylor SM. The fetal hydantoin syndrome: answers from a mouse model. Reprod Toxicol 1989; 3:127–133. 30. Finnell RH, Chernoff GF. Mouse fetal hydantoin syndrome: effects of maternal seizures. Epilepsia 1982; 23:423–429. 31. Phillips NK, Lockard JS. A gestational monkey model: effects of phenytoin versus seizures on neonatal outcome. Epilepsia 1985; 26:697–703. 32. Janz D. Antiepileptic drugs and pregnancy: altered utilization patterns and teratogenesis. Epilepsia 1982; 23:S53–S63. 33. Majewski F, Steger M, Richter B, et al. The teratogenicity of hydantoins and barbiturates in humans with consideration on the etiology of malformations and cerebral disturbances in the children of epileptic parents. Biolog Res Pregnancy 1981; 2:37–45. 34. Granstrom ML, Hiilesmaa V. Malformations and minor anomalies in the children of epileptic mothers: preliminary results of the prospective Helsinski study. In: Janz D, Dam M, Richens A, eds. Epilepsy, Pregnancy, and the Child. New York: Raven Press, 1982:303–307. 35. Miyakoshi M, Seino M. In: Sato T, Shinagawa S, eds. Malformations in children born to mothers with epilepsy. In: Antiepileptic Drugs and Pregnancy. Amsterdam: Excerpta Medica, 1984. 36. Seino M, Miyakoshi M. Teratogenic risks of antiepileptic drugs in respect to the type of epilepsy. Folia Psychiatr Neurol Jpn 1979; 33:379–385. 37. Kaneko S, Fukushima Y, Sato T, et al. Teratogenicity of antiepileptic drugs: a prospective study. Jap Psychiatric Neurol 1986; 40:447–450. 38. Bossi L. Fetal effects of anticonvulsants. In: Morselli P, Pippenger C, Penry J, eds. Antiepileptic Drug Therapy in Pediatrics. New York: Raven Press, 1983:37–64. 39. Koch S, Losche G, Jager-Roman E, et al. Major and minor birth malformations and antiepileptic drugs. Neurology 1992; 42:83–88. 40. Holmes L, Adams J, Ryan L. Physical and behavioral consequences of in utero exposure to anticonvulsant monotherapy. Paper presented at the European Teratology Society, Hungary, 2001.

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41. Nulman I, Scolnik D, Chitayat D, et al. Findings in children exposed in utero to phenytoin and carbamazepine monotherapy: independent effects of epilepsy and medications. Am J Med Genet 1997; 68:18–24. 42. Dansky LV, Finnell RH. Parental epilepsy, anticonvulsant drugs, and reproductive outcome: epidemiologic and experimental findings spanning three decades; 2: human studies. Reprod Toxicol 1991; 5:301–335. 43. Adab N, Jacoby A, Smith D, Chadwick D. Additional educational needs in children born to mothers with epilepsy. J Neurol Neurosurg Psychiatry 2001; 70:15–21. 44. Beghi E, Annegers JF. Pregnancy registries in epilepsy. Epilepsia 2001; 42:1422–1425. 45. Holmes LB, Harvey EA, Coull BA, et al. The teratogenicity of anticonvulsant drugs. N Engl J Med 2001; 344:1132–1138. 46. Gaily E. Distal phalangeal hypoplasia in children with prenatal phenytoin exposure: results of a controlled anthropometric study. Amer J Med Genet 1990; 35:574–578. 47. Holmes LB, Wyszynski DF, Lieberman E. The AED (antiepileptic drug) pregnancy registry: a 6-years experience. Arch Neurol 2004; 61:673–678. 48. Kelly TE. Teratogenicity of anticonvulsant drugs: iii: radiographic hand analysis of children exposed in utero to diphenylhydantoin. Amer J Med Genet 1984; 19:445–450. 49. Kaneko S, Battino D, Andermann E, et al. Congenital malformations due to antiepileptic drugs. Epilepsy Res 1999; 33:145–158. 50. Steinhausen HC, Losche G, Koch S, Helge H. The psychological development of children of epileptic parents I. Study design and comparative findings. Acta Paediatr 1994; 83:955–960. 51. Dessens AB, Cohen-Kettenis PT, Mellenbergh GJ, et al. Association of prenatal phenobarbital and phenytoin exposure with small head size at birth and with learning problems. Acta Paediatr 2000; 89:533–541. 52. Vajda FOB, O’Brien TJ, Hitchcock A, Graham J. The Australian registry of anti-epileptic drugs in pregnancy: experience after 30 months. J Clin Neurosci 2003; 10:543–549. 53. Jager-Roman ER, Koch S, Gopfert-Geyer I, Jacob S, Helge H. Somatic Parameters, Diseases, and Psychomotor Development in the Offspring of Epileptic Parents. New York: Raven Press, 1982. 54. Losche G, Steinhausen HC, Koch S, Helge H. The psychological development of children of epileptic parents. II. The differential impact of intrauterine exposure to anticonvulsant drugs and further influential factors. Acta Paediatr 1994; 83:961–966. 55. Vanoverloop D, Schnell RR, Harvey EA, Holmes LB. The effects of prenatal exposure to phenytoin and other anticonvulsants on intellectual function at 4 to 8 years of age. Neurotoxicol Teratol 1992; 14:329–335. 56. Adams J, Harvey EA, Holmes LB. Cognitive deficits following gestational monotherapy with phenobarbital and carbamazepine. Program for the Annual Meeting of the Neurobehavioral Teratology Society, Abstract 55, 2000. 57. Holmes LB, Wyszynski D, Mittendorf R. Evidence for an increased risk of birth defects in the offspring of women exposed to valproate during pregnancy: findings from the AED Pregnancy Registry. Am J Obstet Gynecol 2002; 187:S137. 58. Hansen DK, Holson RR. Developmental neurotoxicity of antiepileptic drugs. In: Slikker WS, Chang LW, eds. Developmental Neurotoxicology. San Diego: Academic Press, 1998:643– 660. 59. Holmes LB. The teratogenicity of anticonvulsant drugs: a progress report. J Med Genet 2002; 39:245–247. 60. Majewski F, Steger M. Letter to the editors. Fetal Head Growth Retardation associated with maternal phenobarbitone/primidone and/or phenytoin therapy. Europ J Pediatr 1984; 141:188–189. 61. Mastroiacovo P, Bertollini R, Licata D. Fetal growth in the offspring of epileptic women: results of an Italian multicentric cohort study. Acta Neurol Scand 1988; 78:110–114. 62. van der Pol MC, Hadders-Algra M, Huisjes HJ, Touwen BC. Antiepileptic medication in pregnancy: late effects on the children’s central nervous system development. Am J Obstet Gynecol 1991; 164:121–128.

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63. Gaily E, Kantola-Sorsa E, Granstrom ML. Specific cognitive dysfunction in children with epileptic mothers. Dev Med Child Neurol 1990; 32:403–414. 64. Holmes LB, Rosenberger PB, Harvey EA, et al. Intelligence and physical features of children of women with epilepsy. Teratology 2000; 61:196–202. 65. Reinisch JM, Sanders SA, Mortensen EL, Rubin DB. In utero exposure to phenobarbital and intelligence deficits in adult men. J Am Med Associ 1995; 274:1518–1525. 66. Adams J, Holmes LB, Janulewicz P. The adverse effect profile of neurobehavioral teratogens: phenobarbital. Neurotoxicol Teratol 2004; 26:507. 67. Jones KL, Lacro RV, Johnson KA, Adams J. Pattern of malformations in the children of women treated with carbamazepine during pregnancy. N Engl J Med 1989; 320:1661–1666. 68. Ornoy A, Cohen E. Outcome of children born to epileptic mothers treated with carbamazepine during pregnancy. Arch Dis Child 1996; 75:517–520. 69. Gaily E, Kantola-Sorsa E, Hiilesmaa V, et al. Normal intelligence in children with prenatal exposure to carbamazepine. Neurology 2004; 62:28–32. 70. Janulewicz P, Adams J, Dhillon R, Holmes LB. Developmental outcome of children prenatally exposed to carbamazepine. Neurotoxicol Teratol. In Press. 71. Ja¨ger-Roman E, Deichl A, Jakob S, et al. Fetal growth, major malformations, and minor anomalies in infants born to women receiving valproic acid. J Pediatr 1986; 108:997–1004. 72. Lindhout D, Schmidt D. In-utero exposure to valproate and neural tube defects [letter]. Lancet 1986; 1:1392–1393. 73. Hansen DK, Holson RR. Developmental Neurotoxicity of Antiepileptic Drugs. New York: Academic Press, 1998. 74. Wyszynski D, Nambisan M, Surve T, Alsdorf RM, Smith CR, Holmes LB. Increased rate of major malformation in offspring exposed to valproate during pregnancy. Neurology 2005; 64:961–965. 75. Robert E, Wells PG, Rosa F. Maternal valproic acid and congenital neural tube defects [letter]. Teratogenicity of Isotretinoin. Lancet 1982; 2:937. 76. Bjerkedal T, Czeizel A, Goujard J, et al. Valproic acid and spina bifida [letter]. Lancet 1982; 2:1096. 77. CDC. Recommendations for the use of folic acid to reduce the number of cases of spina bifida and other neural tube defects. MMWR 1992; 4:1–7. 78. Kozma C. Valproic acid embryopathy: report of two siblings with further expansion of the phenotypic abnormalities and a review of the literature. Am J Med Genet 2001; 98:168–175. 79. Ardinger H, Atkin J, Blackston R, Elsas L. Verification of the fetal valproate syndrome phenotype. Am J Med Genet 1988; 29:171–185. 80. Ardinger HH, Atkin JF, Blackston RD, et al. Verification of the fetal valproate syndrome phenotype. Am J Med Genet 1988; 29:171–185. 81. Adab N, Kini U, Vinten J, et al. The longer term outcome of children born to mothers with epilepsy. J Neurol Neurosurg Psychiat 2004; 75:1575–1583. 82. Adab N, Jacoby A, Smith D, Chadwick D. Additional educational needs in children born to mothers with epilepsy. J Neurol Neurosurg Psychiat 2001; 70:15–21. 83. Rodier PM, Ingram JL, Tisdale B, et al. Embryological origin for autism: developmental anomalies of the cranial nerve motor nuclei. Journal Comp Neurol 1996; 370:247–261. 84. Rodier PM, Ingram JL, Tisdale B, Croog VJ. Linking etiologies in humans and animal models: studies of autism. Reprod Toxicol 1997; 11:417–422. 85. Ingram JL, Peckham SM, Tisdale B, Rodier PM. Prenatal exposure of rats to valproic acid reproduces the cerebellar anomalies associated with autism. Neurotoxicol Teratol 2000; 22:319–324. 86. Williams G, King J, Cunningham M, et al. Fetal valproate syndrome and autism: additional evidence of an association. Dev Med Child Neurol 2001; 43:847. 87. Moore SJ, Turnpenny P, Quinn A, et al. A clinical study of 57 children with fetal anticonvulsant syndromes. J Med Genet 2000; 37:489–497. 88. Bescoby-Chambers N, Forster P, Bates G. Fetal valproate syndrome and autism. Dev Med Child Neurol 2001; 43:847–852.

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7 Chemotherapy Agents for Treatment of Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia Christine Mrakotsky and Deborah P. Waber Department of Psychiatry, Children’s Hospital Boston, Harvard Medical School, Boston, Massachusetts, U.S.A.

INTRODUCTION Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia (ALL) accounts for 80% of leukemia in children and is the most common type of childhood cancer. Although it is a rare disease, 2400 children are newly diagnosed each year in the U.S., with peak incidence during the preschool period. Significant improvements in treatment have led to markedly improved survival over the past four decades. Just 35 years ago, a diagnosis of ALL was almost always fatal. With treatment advances, long-term event-free survival rates now approach and sometimes exceed 80% (1,2). Central to these dramatic successes was the introduction of central nervous system (CNS) therapy in the early 1970s, which serves to protect children from relapse in the central nervous system. The blood–brain barrier is permeable for leukemia cells but not for (lower dose) systemic chemotherapy agents, thus creating a potential sanctuary for malignant cells. Treatment regimens, therefore, typically include prophylactic intrathecal administration of methotrexate alone, or triple intrathecal therapy (methotrexate, vincristine, and hydrocortisone), with agents directly injected into the spinal fluid. When CNS prophylaxis was first introduced, cranial irradiation therapy (CRT) was the primary modality of treatment, but it soon became apparent that it was associated with adverse cognitive sequelae, which were quite significant in some children. As more has been learned about the disease, however, investigators have been able to eliminate CRT without compromising efficacy for large subgroups of patients. Although the adverse effects of intensive treatment involving high doses of CRT on both physical and cognitive development have been long recognized (3–8), the sequelae of multi-agent chemotherapy protocols without CRT are less well understood. With the improved efficiency of medical treatment and welcome growth in the number of long-term survivors, quality of life, health status, and cognitive outcome become more central considerations (9). As the majority of patients with ALL are now treated without CRT, evaluation of the potential for long-term cognitive effects in children treated on these “chemotherapy only” protocols is of increasing importance. 131

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This chapter will address current issues of leukemia therapy, focusing on chemotherapy-only protocols, and associated neurotoxicity. An overview of disease factors, past and current treatment protocols, and their efficacy and neurotoxicity will be provided. The potential impact of systemic and intrathecal (administered directly in the spinal column) chemotherapy on the CNS and associated development of cognitive functions will be reviewed.

PATHOPHYSIOLOGY AND PREVALENCE OF ALL ALL evolves from uncontrolled growth and proliferation of immature leukocytes into the bone marrow and lymphoids (malignant lymphoblasts). These malignant cells originate most often from B-cells early in development (precursors), and less frequently from T-cells. Common symptoms at onset can include bone and joint pain, intermittent fevers, fatigue, pallor, frequent infections as well as swollen lymph nodes, liver, and spleen, due to these cells’ infiltration of healthy bone marrow and lymphoids. Although less common at diagnosis, CNS involvement can occur, with lymphoblasts invading the cerebrospinal fluid; headaches, nausea and vomiting are associated clinical presentations (10). Although ALL is a rare disease, with an occurrence of one in every 29,000 children in the United States (11), incidence rates vary largely with age. The age of onset peaks between 2 and 4 years, with current rates of 6 in 100,000 per year, decreasing to a rate of 1.6 in 100,000 for 10 to 14 year-olds (12). Because of the early age of onset, aggressive treatments must be undertaken at a time when the CNS is developing and may be especially vulnerable to insult. Gender distributions are relatively even, with a slightly higher incidence for boys than girls (ratio 1.3:1). Differences related to ethnicity are greater. Caucasian children are on average twice as likely to be affected as African American children, with a 3-fold higher incidence in children younger than 5 years of age (11). Incidence rates for Hispanic children are equal to or slightly higher than that of Caucasians (12).

EVOLUTION OF TREATMENT PROTOCOLS As indicated above, the marked increase in survival rates over the past four decades for children newly diagnosed with ALL is one of the great successes of cancer therapy. Until the late 1960s, this disease was almost always fatal, with very few children surviving more than 5 years. Death frequently followed relapse in the CNS. With the introduction of CNS therapies, survival rates increased to 40% in the 1970s, and with further improvement of treatment to 65–70% in the 1980s. Long-term survival rates can now exceed 80%. This success has been achieved in part by tailoring treatment protocols specifically to riskgroups based on prognostic factors at diagnosis, including leukocyte counts, age, and disease phenotype (13). The majority of children in the United States and Europe are treated for ALL on multi-center clinical trials that are broadly comparable regarding their key elements. The initial phase of treatment focuses on remission induction, whereby blood counts are restored and the disease is brought into complete remission. This typically takes about one month, with an induction regimen comprised of vincristine, corticosteroids, and asparaginase. Once remission has been achieved, an extended period of therapy is necessary to prevent relapse. Subsequent consolidation or intensification therapy is a period of intensified treatment that begins with CNS-directed intervention, including multi-agent intrathecal chemotherapy and, for more high-risk patients, adjunct CRT or

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additional doxorubicin. Drug regimens most often include high-dose methotrexate, 6-mercaptopurine, high-dose asparaginase, steroids, and an epipodophyllotoxin with cytarabine (14). Consolidation therapy takes several months to a year and is followed by an additional 18–24 months of maintenance therapy, which commonly includes daily 6-mercaptopurine, weekly methotrexate, and periodic pulses of steroids and vincristine (10,14). These agents, although effective in treating the leukemia, can have significant side-effects, both acute and long-term. The most common late adverse events associated with chemotherapy include endocrine abnormalities such as growth delay, obesity, or reproductive problems (associated with corticosteroids and alkylating agents) (15–18), bone necrosis (corticosteroids) (19,20), cardiovascular defects (anthracylines) (21,22), peripheral neuropathy (vincristine) (23), CNS toxicity (methotrexate and corticosteroids) (24–28) and related learning problems (29–32). Although the long-term neurocognitive outcomes associated with chemotherapyonly protocols are generally milder than those that were seen when CRT was routinely used, eliminating CRT does not necessarily eliminate the risk for late effects of treatment. Understanding the potential burden or neurocognitive morbidity among children treated on these protocols thus remains important. Because of the young age of onset and thus the potential for longevity of late effects on the developing nervous system, delayed consequences of therapy can have a greater impact on a child’s life and overall well-being than acute morbidities of anti-leukemic therapies. Whereas short-term morbidities can be expected with virtually all therapeutic agents, the risk for long-term sequelae—especially involving the CNS—appears to be greater for some agents (e.g., methotrexate, steroids, or a combination) than others. In evaluating the costs of treatment-associated toxicity, it is of course important to always be mindful of the significant benefits of therapy in terms of long-term survival and improved health outcomes for a child diagnosed with an aggressive malignancy. Unlike many other neurotoxic exposures, such as environmental pollutants, exposure to antileukemic agents is critical for the child’s survival, with the benefits obviously outweighing the costs. Evaluation of outcomes is therefore better understood in terms of comparing equally efficacious therapies for differential toxicities, or in terms of appreciating the risk for sequelae so that their impact can be well managed and hopefully minimized.

CHEMOTHERAPY AGENTS: EFFICACY AND TOXICITY Chemotherapy agents are highly effective cytotoxic and antineoplastic drugs. They can be generally classified as: (1) antimetabolites (e.g., methotrexate, 6-mercaptopurine); (2) alkaloids (e.g., vincristine); (3) alkylating agents (e.g., cyclophosphamide); (4) anthracyclines (e.g., doxorubicin); (5) epidophyllotoxins (e.g., etoposide); and (6) immune modulators: enzymes (e.g., L-asparaginase) and corticosteroid hormones modulating metabolism and immune functions (e.g., prednisone). Agents within the same group, however, are not necessarily associated with similar toxicities. The risk for toxicity is naturally greater with higher doses, and can also depend on the mode of administration—oral, intravenous, or intrathecal (directly into the spinal fluid)—with the latter causing the highest risk for delayed neurotoxicity. The two chemotherapy agents that are the most likely sources of CNS late effects are methotrexate and, possibly, corticosteroids. Methotrexate (MTX) is a folic acid antagonist that inhibits formation of a lipid component of myelin (3) and blocks DNA synthesis stopping rapidly growing cells. It is administered both intrathecally and intravenously, and constitutes a main component of

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chemotherapy throughout all treatment phases. High-dose MTX may improve long-term event-free survival as compared to low dose (33); however, MTX can also cause severe neurophysiological toxicities, including leukoencephalopathy with or without seizures and cortical atrophy, particularly when administered intravenously or intrathecally in high doses and repeatedly (14,24–25). Methotrexate also appears to be associated with subclinical levels of demyelination during therapy, whose functional consequences are not clear (34). Corticosteroids or glucocorticoids (GCs) are steroid hormones regulating homeostasis, including peripheral metabolism, immune functions, cardiovascular integrity, and neuronal growth. Clinically, GCs have proven to be very effective anti-leukemic agents, particularly when given early in treatment, and are thus a mainstay of therapy. Their anti-leukemic properties are assumed to be based on their preferential target of lymphoid cells, leading to inhibition of DNA and protein synthesis, and induction of programmed cell death (35,36). Historically, the corticosteroid component of treatment has typically been prednisone. More recently, dexamethasone has been substituted for prednisone as a more potent agent due to its increased bioavailability, superior anti-leukemic activity at equivalent doses, and higher CNS penetration (37,38). Randomized controlled trials have demonstrated lower CNS relapse rates and higher 6-year event-free survival rates for dexamethasone than for prednisone (39,40). Along with its enhanced therapeutic efficacy, dexamethasone may be more toxic than other GCs. It can cause more weight gain, increased bone morbidity, higher risk for proximal myopathy (likely associated with cushingoid appearance) and hyperglycemia, and possibly more cognitive, particularly memory, problems than prednisone (17,20,31,40,41). In addition, dexamethasone toxicity can be enhanced by other treatment agents, such as concurrent daunomycin, and can exacerbate toxicity of other agents such as vincristine-induced neuropathies (17,40), complicating the delineation of steroid-related from other adverse events. More accurate assessment of the risks associated with dexamethasone therapy awaits evaluation of outcomes of randomized controlled trials. Other agents can also be associated with neurotoxicity, but these effects are less frequent. Vincristine (VCR) is a cytotoxic alkaloid that binds to the protein tubulin and interferes with microtubule assembly in cells, hence blocking mitosis and DNA synthesis. Due to its anti-leukemic properties, it is another therapeutic backbone of leukemia therapy; it is administered in combination with multiple agents during remission induction, and in frequent pulses coupled with corticosteroids during post-remission therapy. Vincristine can only be given intravenously, and is lethal if given intrathecally causing progressive encephalopathy leading to brain death. High-dose vincristine therapy is typically associated with peripheral neuropathies occurring early in therapy, with loss of deep-tendon reflex, weakness in muscles, and gait abnormalities (ataxia). These symptoms typically subside when doses are reduced or the agent is discontinued. Short-term difficulties in fine motor control (e.g., buttoning, handwriting) have also been observed (42,43), but these may not always be transient. Asparaginase is an enzyme that breaks down L-asparagine, an amino acid needed for production of protein. Since rapidly growing malignant cells require vast amounts of asparagine, asparaginase deprives these cells of essential nutrients causing cell death without interfering with growth of normal cells. Acute CNS toxicity, presenting as lethargy and somnolence, has been associated with a fall in asparagines in the cerebrospinal fluid. In rare cases, coagulation defects can lead to intracranial hemorrhage and thrombosis, which usually occurs about three weeks after start of asparaginase during induction (44,45). Reversible neuropsychological deficits have also been reported (46,47).

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Other agents that are commonly used in therapy, namely, 6-mercaptopurine (6-MP), cytarabine arabinoside (Ara-C), and doxorubicin, are not known to carry a particular risk for acute or late CNS toxicity. In the therapeutic context, however, exposure to each of these agents does not occur in isolation; anti-leukemic drugs are typically given in multiple combinations. Thus, drug– drug interactions are likely to be at least as important in the consideration of late CNS sequelae as single agent effects. In an animal model investigating various doses and combinations of CRT, methotrexate, and steroids, combined exposures caused more behavioral perturbations than single-agent exposures, with steroids playing a major role in limiting or enhancing negative treatment effects of other agents (48). With the refinement of multi-agent chemotherapy and frequent elimination of CRT, many drug combinations remain to be evaluated for interactions, with similarly modulating effects. Moreover, interpretation of findings needs to consider that single agents (e.g., methotrexate, CRT) are typically given in a therapeutic context, and so their potential adverse effects may be understood only within that context.

NEUROPSYCHOLOGICAL SEQUELAE OF TREATMENT FOR ALL WITH CHEMOTHERAPY ONLY Neuropsychological sequelae of leukemia treatment have been most extensively documented in relation to CRT administered in combination with intravenous or intrathecal drugs. Adverse effects on physical and cognitive development are most clearly seen with a dose of 24 Gy (8,49,50), which is rarely if ever used clinically anymore, but is more equivocal with the more typical lower dose of 18 Gy or even 12 Gy (7,51). The possible independent contribution of chemotherapy to the development of CNS late effects in the context of protocols that do not include CRT is less well established. There is emerging evidence of an increased occurrence of neuropsychological deficits and cognitive complaints after systemic and intrathecal chemotherapy (without CRT), although the general consensus is that these effects are milder than those seen when CRT is employed, particularly at the higher doses that were prevalent in older protocols. In a relatively recent review, Moleski (2000) (52) cited a variety of sequelae, including mild declines in IQ, attention, non-verbal memory, visual-motor function, and mathematics. The research literature suggests, however, a relatively diffuse pattern of chemotherapyinduced cognitive changes. Some studies report relatively subtle declines following chemotherapy only (53–58), whereas others report no effects (59–62). An overview of recent outcome research of chemotherapy-only protocols is provided in Table 1. Drug-Related Effects Methotrexate-Related Effects Adverse cognitive outcomes have most frequently been associated with high-dose MTX or triple intrathecal therapy (including MTX). One large randomized controlled trial comparing CRT (18 Gy) combined with intravenous MTX to intrathecal and intravenous MTX without radiation showed no group difference, but poorer performance by both groups than normative populations, suggesting that chemotherapy alone—particularly MTX—can cause cognitive problems (7,29). Similarly, lower levels of intellectual and academic functioning were found in both CRT/chemotherapy (including MTX)-combined and chemotherapy-only groups when compared to asthmatic and healthy controls (32).

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Table 1 Study authors Copeland et al. (1996) (53)

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Neuropsychological Late Effects of Chemotherapy-Only Treatment CNS therapy

Methods

IT - MTX, Ara-C, NZ99 non-CNS cancer CORT various patients prospective: systemic agents baseline, 1,2, 3, & R on different 5 years post diagnoprotocols sis treatment groups: ITC vs. No ITC

Findings 3 & 5 years post change: † no significant group differences at years 3& 5; interaction: † perceptual-motor skills Z ITC, \ NITC † academic achievement Z in both groups † age and SES effects in both groups

NZ63 non-CNS cancer patients ALL (29), AML (9) various cancers (25) prospective: baseline, 1, 2, 3, 4 years post diagnosis treatment groups: ITC vs. No ITC

1, 2, 3, 4 years post change: † No sign. group differences at year 1&2 † at year 3: ITC group sign. Z than No ITC group in reading, spelling, and arithmetic † at year 4: ITC Z No ITC in reading † ITC lack to improve on IQ compared to No ITC

Espy et al. (2001) (57)

IT - MTX, Ara-C, NZ30 ALL patients prospective: baseline, CORT C IV2,3, & 4 years post MTX (POG diagnosis treatment protocols) IT groups: ITCIV vs. MTX only (ITO) (CCG ITO protocols)

4 years post change rates: † modest declines in arithmetic, verbal fluency, visual-motor integration † IT C IV therapy Z visual-motor 4 years. post, faster decline than ITO † arithmetic, verbal fluency decline unrelated to treatment type

Kingma et al. (2002) (61)

IT MTX, 6-MP, NZ20 ALL patients prospective: baseline, HD IV MTX (ALL-7) IT2 & 7 years. postdiagnosis healthy, MTX, PRDL, sibling, historic HD IV MTX; DEX, VCR controls (ALL-6 (post-remission) vs. ALL-7) (ALL-6)

7 years post-diagnosis: † VIQ Z, set shifting Z than healthy controls † auditory memory \, sustained attention \ than earlier protocol with omission of DEX † referral to SPED \ than sibling controls

Rodgers et al. (2003) (62)

HD IV MTX or IT NZ17 ALL patients MTX retrospectivea: mean Z 5 years post treatment sibling controls

† no significant group differences in attention - patients vs. siblings † trend: - sustained attention Z (omissions \, hit rate Z) - focused attention Z - working memory Z

Brown IT-MTX et al. (ALL, AML) (ALL5, 6, and (1996, ANLL 1 proto1999) cols) No IT (54, 56) CNS therapy (other cancer types)

a Retrospective, no baseline available, assessments conducted prospectively.

Abbreviations: CNS, central nervous system; IT, intrathecal; ITC, intrathecal chemotherapy; IV, intravenous; HD, high dose; SD, standard dose; MTX, methotrexate; Ara-C, cytarabine; CORT, hydrocortisone; VCR, vincristine; 6-MP, 6-mercaptopurine; PRD, prednisone; PRDL, prednisolone; DEX, dexamethasone; SES, socioeconomic status; SPED, special education; VIQ, verbal intelligence quotient.

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IT combined with IV MTX therapy was associated with decreased perceptual-motor skills over time relative to therapy without IT MTX (53); however, delineation of the effects of other agents (e.g., vincristine, steroids) on visual-motor skills is often difficult. Despite its greater therapeutic efficacy, IV MTX is more frequently associated with neurotoxicity than low-dose oral MTX (25). Associated cognitive problems have been found to be dosedependant and augmented by other agents. Waber and colleagues (63) reported a poorer cognitive outcome in girls treated with high-dose (vs. low dose) IV MTX, but only when MTX was followed by CRT. Similarly, Iuvone and colleagues (64) reported cognitive sequelae to be associated with cumulative MTX doses when MTX was given in the context of CRT. Perhaps more significantly, recent results from the Pediatric Oncology Group (POG 9005) indicate that 30% of children treated on several treatment arms receiving either intravenous or oral MTX in combination with other agents and intrathecal CNS prophylaxis without CRT demonstrated IQ scores lower than 85, with 5% lower than 70 (D. Armstrong, personal communication, 2004). The high prevalence of general intellectual impairment is concerning, reminiscent of outcomes that were seen on older protocols that employed higher doses of CRT. The specific features of this protocol (e.g., dose levels, timing of administration of various components, and potential adverse drug–drug interactions) should be carefully reviewed in comparison to other protocols, where neuropsychological sequelae have generally been milder. Indeed, most studies have reported mild declines one years after chemotherapy with performance that is, nevertheless, still within the normal range (53,57,58). Visual/ perceptual-motor skills seem to be particularly vulnerable to effects of CNS prophylaxis that includes IV and IT MTX. Espy and colleagues (57) describe an additive effect of MTX on the CNS. That is, children who received CRT and MTX demonstrated the most dramatic declines in visual-motor skills, followed by children treated with IT and systemic MTX, with no significant changes in children treated with IT MTX only. Kingma and colleagues (58,61) found gradual improvement in function over time among children treated on consecutive chemotherapy-only protocols as compared to earlier protocols. When compared to children treated on a previous protocol that included CRT, those treated on a chemotherapy-only protocol including intrathecal MTX had a generally more favorable outcome several years post-treatment. Their memory and fine motor skills, however, were poorer than those of healthy controls (58). Results based on a more recent chemotherapyonly protocol, which included IT and high-dose IV MTX, documented no major cognitive deficits compared to healthy and sibling controls, as well as better memory abilities than the previous chemotherapy protocol, attributed potentially to the lower cumulative doses of dexamethasone, vincristine, and IT MTX in the later protocol (61). Corticosteroid-Related Effects Corticosteroids are known for their potential impact on hippocampal, prefrontal, and hypothalamic structures and associated deficits in memory, learning, and mood regulation in adult healthy and ill populations. Although they are known to acutely affect behavioral regulation during treatment in pediatric medical populations (65–67), less is known about long-term behavioral morbidities. A double-blind, placebo-controlled trial of early postnatal therapy for lung disease in premature children showed poorer motor, visualmotor and cognitive ability in the dexamethasone-exposed group at school-age (68), highlighting the potential of dexamethasone for cognitive late effects. Waber and colleagues (31,63) have also speculated that steroids, especially dexamethasone, may be a factor in cognitive late effects of leukemia therapy, specifically

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affecting verbal declarative memory. Children treated on Dana-Faber Cancer Institute (DFCI) ALL Consortium Protocol 87-01, who received chemotherapy with or without CRT (18 Gy), demonstrated a profile of relative deficits in rote verbal memory and symbolic processing (especially spelling) that were independent of CRT, potentially related to the steroid component prednisone (63). Subsequent comparison of two DFCI protocols, one using prednisone (87-01) and one dexamethasone (91-01) as the steroid component of treatment, revealed more neuropsychological morbidities associated with the latter, again affecting verbal memory and symbolic function (31). Similarly, as mentioned above, Kingma and colleagues (58) found mild deficits in auditory memory in children treated with dexamethasone, whereas children treated with prednisone on a later protocol did not show these deficits. Evaluation of late effects among participants in randomized controlled trials evaluating the relative efficacy of prednisone and dexamethasone for ALL therapy should help to resolve this question. Vincristine-Related Effects Vincristine-associated peripheral neuropathies and related problems with fine motor skills are believed to account, at least partially, for subtle late effects in motor function among children treated on chemotherapy-only regimens. Fine motor difficulties among leukemia survivors were related to high cumulative doses of VCR in post-remission therapy (58). Similarly, problems with hand-writing, persisting after cessation of therapy, have been observed in a small sample of children whose therapy included VCR (43). Compared to healthy controls, children treated with weekly VCR demonstrated slower graphomotor output, longer pause durations, and increased drawing pressure, thought to be a compensation for peripheral neuropathies common with VCR exposure. Asparaginase-Related Effects As described earlier, asparaginase can, in rare cases, cause coagulation defects with cerebrovascular complications, such as thrombosis and associated cognitive deficits. Reports are sparse, however, and available only from case reviews (46,47). Although Ott and colleagues (46) found that asparaginase-related cerebrovascular damage and associated neurological problems were reversible, systematic neuropsychological evaluation might have revealed more persistent deficits. Most commonly, patients experience aphasia and other serious language impairments along with cognitive deficits during the first weeks after the injury. This typically occurs within a few weeks of start of asparaginase therapy. Despite typical improvement of symptoms several months later, some children may have irreversible deficits (47). Child-Related Risk Factors Chemotherapy regimens may not affect all children equivalently; certain subpopulations of children may be at higher risk for poorer cognitive outcomes. Younger children can be more vulnerable to intensive treatments during critical periods of brain development. Young age at diagnosis (!6 years) has been a robust risk factor for late effects of combined regimens of CRT and chemotherapy (51,69). Copeland and colleagues (53) also found younger age at diagnosis to be correlated with poorer nonverbal and perceptual-motor skills in children treated on chemotherapy-only protocols. Children treated as infants (!6 months at diagnosis) with very high-dose IV MTX and IT Ara-C and MTX exhibit relatively poor cognitive outcomes 5 years later (70).

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Another potential risk factor for long-term morbidities is gender. Girls appear to be more vulnerable than boys to cognitive late effects when they are treated with high doses of MTX (both IV and IT) and CRT (8,30,63,71). In contrast, Balsom and colleagues (72) found that pre-irradiation MTX ameliorates the negative cognitive late effects of highdose CRT only in girls. Such sex differences have generally not emerged, however, for protocols that do not include CRT or where CRT doses are relatively lower (%18 Gy). Neuropathological Changes Despite the emerging evidence that chemotherapy with or without CRT can cause subtle cognitive late effects, the underlying pathophysiological mechanisms are poorly understood. The neuroimaging research to date, although limited, has shown demyelination of white matter, particularly in frontal areas, calcifications, and atrophy or reduction of cerebral gray matter (3,47,58) that may result directly from chemotherapy. Methotrexate is thought to be a primary contributor to white matter abnormalities (34,73). Surtees, Clelland, and Hahn (34) documented subclinical demyelination in ALL patients during treatment with MTX with or without CRT. Young children (under 6 years) are particularly vulnerable to these abnormalities because insults to the brain early in life, such as exposure to a neurotoxin, can have detrimental effects on myelinization, synaptogenesis, and dendritic branching (74). For example, Pa¨a¨kko¨ and colleagues (73) found young children to be more vulnerable to white matter changes during and after repeated MTX injections. Brain changes may, however, not only be treatment-related. An intriguing report is given by Kahkonen and colleagues (75), who found that cerebral glucose utilization in the brain among long-term survivors was associated with leukocyte counts at diagnosis, suggesting that cognitive late effects may reflect not only the effects of therapy, but also the direct impact of the disease itself on the developing brain. Accounts of the direct relationship between treatment-related cognitive and neuropathological changes are still scarce. Intellectual decline following CRT (24 Gy) combined with MTX in earlier protocols was associated with necrotizing leukencephalopathy and mineralizing microangiopathy (76). Results from more contemporary therapy protocols are inconsistent, however; some studies report no significant or systematic correlation between MRI results and test scores or educational level (58,73), whereas others have documented such relationships. Children treated with chemotherapy alone (MTX in combination with other agents and intrathecal CNS prophylaxis without CRT) on POG protocol 9005 are reported to demonstrate high rates (40%) of CT abnormalities, including calcification, white matter abnormalities, or both, 5 years after diagnosis. Children with CT abnormalities performed more poorly on a range of cognitive and achievement tasks. The presence of calcifications was associated with impairment of Performance IQ but not Verbal IQ, and white matter changes were associated with poorer Verbal and Performance IQ (D. Armstrong, personal communication, 2004). More research in this area is needed to establish the relationship between treatment-related brain changes and cognitive outcome more clearly.

METHODOLOGICAL CONSIDERATIONS, LIMITATIONS, OUTSTANDING ISSUES AND DATA NEEDS Systematic research on outcomes of leukemia therapy within and outside the United States is typically conducted within the context of multicenter collaborations. These provide for standardized protocols across institutions as well as sufficient numbers of patients to

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evaluate clinical trials. These trials, however, are generally designed with efficacy as the study endpoint, and are rarely framed to answer questions about neurotoxicity. Posing questions and drawing valid inferences about cognitive late effects is therefore difficult, depending on designs that are often less than optimal. Although many of these constraints are unavoidable, given pragmatic considerations, the research nevertheless needs to be evaluated in light of these limitations. Limited Sample Size One of the key limitations of most studies is the sample size. Inadequate sample size can occur for a number of reasons, including the low prevalence of the disease in the general population, the multi-site nature of most clinical trials, and the need to exclude many children from studies because of factors such as medical complications. Added to this is the possibility that outcomes may differ for subgroups of patients (e.g., younger vs. older), further reducing the potential sample size and the statistical power to detect meaningful differences, especially interactions. The risk for a Type II error, that is, failing to reject a false null hypothesis, is greater with smaller samples. Within this context, studies that have reported no effects or only trend effects of chemotherapy on cognitive performance could underestimate a true effect. Longitudinal research, potentially very important in terms of fully describing the course and development of cognitive late effects, is quite limited because of decreased sample sizes and the pragmatic difficulties of recruiting and retaining patients for multiple visits and over long periods of time. Heterogenous Treatment Protocols Another challenge is the variation in treatment protocols across and within institutions, with varying types and doses of chemotherapy agents. One chemotherapy-only protocol may differ in dose, combinations and sequence of administration of agents from another. The effect of these protocol differences on outcome is uncertain and can, along with other factors cited, be a source of apparent inconsistency in results. Some authors provide little detail about the therapy protocols on which children were treated, further limiting the utility of their findings. In order to truly interpret behavioral findings, treatment regimens should be adequately described, so that variations in findings can be correlated with different drugs, doses, and combinations. Because of problems with sample size, moreover, some studies may combine patients on different protocols, but at some cost in terms of interpretability. Lack of Appropriate Comparison Groups Another potential limitation of treatment outcome research can be the lack of adequate controls. Precisely what constitutes an appropriate control group is uncertain in this context. Studies based on randomized controlled trials can legitimately compare performance of children on different arms of the protocol, but drawing inferences about comparison to “normal” is more treacherous. Some studies elect not to use a control group, choosing to compare patient performance to age-normed expectations. Others may include historic patient controls, healthy controls, or sibling controls that theoretically take into consideration environmental/genetic factors. Each choice, however, represents some compromise. Results from studies that use historic controls may be confounded by cohort effects, for example, and sibling controls may not adequately account for age and sex factors. Siblings of ALL patients typically have higher average mean IQs than normative

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expectation would predict (77), suggesting that their performance may better reflect pre-morbid potential of the index sample. An average performance among such patients might actually reflect a loss of potential function. Comparison with patient controls is another strategy that has occasionally been employed to increase validity. However, these children typically receive different drug therapies that may themselves have consequences, or they may be developmentally different from the leukemia patients because of different modal ages at diagnosis (53). Ultimately, investigators need to design their studies to be as informative and interpretable as possible, while acknowledging the limitations incurred by the particular choice of strategy.

Retrospective vs. Prospective Design Most late effects studies employ a quasi-retrospective or cross-sectional design at time of post-treatment evaluation, with no information on pre-treatment functioning. Although pre- and post-testing is theoretically ideal, there are some pragmatic barriers to proceeding in this way. Children are typically quite ill when diagnosed, and families are emotionally upset, with uncertain impact on test performance. Moreover, because the modal age of diagnosis for ALL is during the preschool period, the measures that must be used are relatively imprecise and the extent to which they might constitute a valid baseline is uncertain. This is especially true for the youngest children, two to four years old, who are likely to experience the greatest adverse impact of the disease and its therapy.

Non-Disease Related Moderator Variables Female gender and young age at diagnosis and treatment are widely accepted as potential risk factors for poor cognitive outcome. There are, however, other variables that potentially influence cognitive performance and should be included in study designs. Parent socioeconomic status and education level are highly correlated with child IQ and neuropsychological performance in general, and frequently account for substantial variability in performance of ALL survivors (53,57,78). These influences should be systematically considered in study designs.

Measurement Problems Measuring cognitive functions over time and across different age ranges is a challenge to most neuropsychological research assessing development and change longitudinally. Test versions can change over time (e.g., WISC-III to WISC-IV) and forms may differ for individuals of different ages (e.g., WISC to WAIS), compromising the comparability of data points when comparing results from historic protocols, following children longitudinally, or when following samples that are heterogeneous for age. Butler and Copeland (79) point out that the use of global measures, such as intelligence tests, may account in part for the inconsistency of findings between studies. Reliance on such global measures can risk missing the more subtle deficits that may be associated with the less intensive contemporary protocols. Although these deficits may be relatively more subtle, in context of the growing numbers of long-term survivors they may have a broader impact on later adaptive, academic, and vocational functioning.

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Difference vs. Deficit Another consideration is the clinical significance of group differences in performance (“difference” vs. “deficit”). Although statistically significant differences may be meaningful in scientific terms, a finding of difference in specific neuropsychological functions between groups does not necessarily imply a clinically meaningful deficit. It can be informative to report not only whether groups differ, but also the proportions of children falling into a ‘clinically significant’ range, as well as exploring potential risk and protective factors. Developmental Considerations Over the past several decades, the risk for neuropsychological impairment among children who survive leukemia has diminished steadily as advances in medical treatment have permitted some relaxation of the intensity of therapies. Nonetheless, there appear to be subtle long-term deficits, which may not emerge in basic cognitive skills, but rather in their efficiency and application. These may not be apparent in young children, but may become more apparent as the child develops and seeks to respond to increasing cognitive demands. Since brain development does not occur in isolation but in constant interaction with the environment, a child’s neurobehavioral response (e.g., cognitive performance) is always context-dependent. It is the failure to adapt to this context (e.g., the learning environment) in a developmentally appropriate way that constitutes a deficit or learning disorder (80). Thus, although a child with relatively minor compromise of executive control processes or visuomotor skills may be able to perform comfortably in the lower grades, he/she may not be able to sustain that level of function in higher grades, as demands for attention, organization, and written output increase. This developmental phenomenon can give the appearance of decline, if one attends only to standardized scores, but in fact represents adaptive problems as age-level demands increasingly stress areas of more subtle weakness. Adult Survivors’ Quality of Life (QOL) Despite the growing numbers of adult survivors of pediatric leukemia and higher expectations for long-term quality of life (QOL), data on adult QOL, including vocational and adaptive functions, is sparse. Current reports on adult survivors are based on data from patients treated 10, 15, or even 20 years ago. Adult cancer survivors, particularly those who received radiation, are more likely to report adverse general health, activity limitations, and functional impairment than sibling controls or non-irradiated patients (81,82). Long-term outcome research, however, is a “moving target.” Adults eligible for evaluation now, who were treated as children, are likely to have been exposed to more intensive therapies (often involving CRT) than children who are newly diagnosed. One cannot predict from current adults to future adults. In this regard, the Pui et al. study (81) is encouraging; non-irradiated leukemia survivors did not show any major impairments in adaptive living skills relative to the general population.

CONCLUSION In summary, advances in leukemia therapy over the past decades have led to excellent efficacy in treating a disease that was once nearly uniformly fatal. Toxicity and outcome have notably improved with the reduction or elimination of CRT. With these

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improvements and growing numbers of survivors, long-term quality of life and the transition into young adulthood will become increasingly important considerations. Although cognitive deficits appear more subtle on contemporary chemotherapy protocols than they were on older protocols using high doses (24 Gy) of CRT, they need to be monitored carefully over time. This is particularly of concern as reported outcomes of difficulties with executive control, attention, and memory may become more troublesome with increasing academic and social demands, potentially affecting a child’s ability to become a self-organized independent learner who is well-equipped to meet expectable educational and career goals later in life. Reduction or elimination of CRT has not eliminated cognitive late effects, and changes in protocols can increase risks in ways that might not have been predicted. These protocols therefore need to be consistently monitored with respect to cognitive late effects. Moreover, it remains important to monitor individual children so that behavioral interventions can be undertaken before problems escalate.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS We gratefully acknowledge the support of NCI P01 68484 and the continuing guidance of Stephen E. Sallan, M.D. and Lewis B. Silverman M.D., of the Dana Farber/Children’s Hospital ALL Consortium.

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53. Copeland DR, Moore BD, Francis DJ, Jaffe N, Culbert SJ. Neuropsychologic effects of chemotherapy on children with cancer: a longitudinal study. J Clin Oncol 1996; 14:2826–2835. 54. Brown RT, Sawyer MB, Antoniou G, et al. A 3 years follow-up of the intellectual and academic functioning of children receiving central nervous system prophylactic chemotherapy for leukemia. J Dev Behav Pediatr 1996; 17:392–398. 55. Brown RT, Madan-Swain A, Walco GA, et al. Cognitive and academic late effects among children previously treated for acute lymphocytic leukemia receiving chemotherapy as CNS prophylaxis. J Pediatr Psychol 1998; 23:333–340. 56. Brown RT, Sawyer MG, Antoniou G, Toogood I, Rice M. Longitudinal follow-up of the intellectual and academic functioning of children receiving central nervous systemprophylactic chemotherapy for leukemia: a four-year final report. J Dev Behav Pediatr 1999; 20:373–377. 57. Espy KA, Moore IM, Kaufmann PM, Kramer JH, Matthay K, Hutter JJ. C.N.S. Chemotherapeutic prophylaxis and neuropsychologic change in children with acute lymphoblastic leukemia: a prospective study. J Pediatr Psychol 2001; 26:1–9. 58. Kingma A, van Dommelen RI, Mooyaart EL, Wilmink JT, Deelman BG, Kamps WA. Slight cognitive impairment and magnetic resonance imaging abnormalities but normal school levels in children treated for acute lymphoblastic leukemia with chemotherapy only. J Pediatr 2001; 139:413–420. 59. Anderson V, Smibert E, Ekert H, Godber T. Intellectual, educational, and behavioural sequelae after cranial irradiation and chemotherapy. Arch Dis Child 1994; 70:476–483. 60. Butler RW, Hill JM, Steinherz PG, Meyers PA, Finlay JL. Neuropsychologic effects of cranial irradiation, intrathecal methotrexate, and systemic methotrexate in childhood cancer. J Clin Oncol 1994; 12:2621–2629. 61. Kingma A, Van Dommelen R, Mooyaart EL, Wilmink JT, Deelman BG, Kamps WA. No major cognitive impairment in young children with acute lymphoblastic leukemia using chemotherapy only: a prospective longitudinal study. J Pediatr Hematol Oncol 2002; 24:106–114. 62. Rodgers J, Marckus R, Kearns P, Windebank K. Attentional ability among survivors of leukaemia treated without cranial irradiation. Arch Dis Child 2003; 88:147–150. 63. Waber DP, Tarbell NJ, Fairclough D, et al. Cognitive sequelae of treatment in childhood acute lymphoblastic leukemia: Cranial radiation requires an accomplice. J Clin Oncol 1995; 13:2490–2496. 64. Iuvone L, Mariotti P, Colosimo C, Guzzetta F, Ruggiero A, Riccardi R. Long-term cognitive outcome, brain computed tomography scan, and magnetic resonance imaging in children cured for acute lymphoblastic leukemia. Cancer 2002; 95:2562–2570. 65. Drigan R, Spirito A, Gelber RD. Behavioral effects of corticosteroids in children with acute lymphoblastic leukemia. Med Pediatr Oncol 1992; 20:13–21. 66. Harris JC, Carel CA, Rosenberg LA, Joshi P, Leventhal BG. Intermittent high dose corticosteroid treatment in childhood cancer: behavioral and emotional consequences. J Am Acad Child Psychiatry 1986; 25:120–124. 67. Soliday E, Grey S, Lande MB. Behavioral effects of corticosteroids in steroid-sensitive nephrotic syndrome. Pediatrics 1999; 104:956–957. 68. Yeh TF, Lin YJ, Lin HC, et al. Outcomes at school age after postnatal dexamethasone therapy for lung disease of prematurity. NEJM 2004; 350:1304–1313. 69. Cousens P, Waters B, Said J, Stevens M. Cognitive effects of cranial irradiation in leukemia: A survey and meta-analysis. Child Psychol Psychiatr 1988; 29:839–852. 70. Kaleita TA, Reaman GH, MacLean WE, Sather HN, Whitt JK. Neurodevelopmental outcome of infants with acute lymphoblastic leukemia: a Children’s Cancer Group report. Cancer 1999; 85:1859–1865. 71. Precourt S, Robaey P, Lamothe I, Lassonde M, Sauerwein HC, Moghrabi A. Verbal cognitive functioning and learning in girls treated for acute lymphoblastic leukemia by chemotherapy with or without cranial irradiation. Dev Neuropsychol 2002; 21:173–195.

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72. Balsom WR, Bleyer WA, Robison LL, et al. Intellectual function in long-term survivors of childhood acute lymphoblastic leukemia: protective effect of pre-irradiation methotrexate? A Childrens Cancer Study Group study Med Pediatr Oncol 1991; 19:486–492. 73. Pa¨a¨kko¨ E, Harila-Saari A, Vanionpaa L, Himanen S, Pyhtinen J, Lanning M. White matter changes on MRI during treatment in children with acute lymphoblastic leukemia: correlation with neuropsychological findings. Med Pediatr Oncol 2000; 35:456–461. 74. Aram DM, Eisele JA. Plasticity and recovery of higher cognitive functions following early brain injury. In: Rapin I, Segalowitz SJ, eds. In: Handbook of Neuropsychology, Vol. 6. New York: Elsevier Science, 1992:73–92. 75. Kahkonen M, Metsahonkala L, Minn H, et al. Cerebral glucose metabolism in survivors of childhood acute lymphoblastic leukemia. Cancer 2000; 88:693–700. 76. Bleyer WA, Griffin TW. White matter necrosis, mineralizing microangiopathy, and intellectual abilities in survivors of childhood leukemia: Associations with central nervous system irradiation and methotrexate therapy. In: Gilbert HA, Kagan AR, eds. Radiation Damage to the Nervous System. New York: Raven Press, 1980:155. 77. Giralt J, Ortega JJ, Olive T, Verges R, Forio J, Salvador L. Long-term neuropsychologic sequelae of childhood leukemia: comparison of two CNS prophylaxis regimens. Int J Radiat Oncol Biol Phys 1992; 24:49–53. 78. Trautman PD, Erickson C, Shaffer D, et al. Prediction of intellectual deficits in children with acute lymphoblastic leukemia. J Dev Behav Pediatr 1988; 9:122–128. 79. Butler RW, Copeland DR. Neuropsychological effects of central nervous system prophylactic treatment in childhood leukemia: methodological considerations. J Pediatr Psychol 1993; 18:319–338. 80. Holmes-Bernstein J, Waber DP. Developmental neuropsychological assessment: The systemic approach. In: Boulton AA, Baker GB, Hiscock M, eds. In: Neuromethods, Vol. 17. Clifton, NJ: Humana Press, 1990. 81. Pui CH, Cheng C, Leung W, et al. Extended follow-up of long-term survivors of childhood acute lymphoblastic leukemia. N Engl J Med 2003; 349:640–649. 82. Hudson MM, Mertens AC, Yasui Y. Childhood Cancer Survivor Study Investigators. Health status of adult long-term survivors of childhood cancer: a report from the Childhood Cancer Survivor Study. JAMA 2003; 290:1583–1592.

8 Prenatal Tobacco and Postnatal Environmental Tobacco Smoke Exposure and Children’s Cognitive and Behavioral Functioning Michael Weitzman, Todd A. Florin, and Megan Kavanaugh American Academy of Pediatrics, Center for Child Health Research and Department of Pediatrics, The University of Rochester School of Medicine and Dentistry, Rochester and Department of Pediatrics, New York University School of Medicine, New York, New York, U.S.A.

A significant and still growing body of literature indicates that maternal smoking during pregnancy is associated with neurotoxic effects on children. Both animal model studies and human epidemiologic studies demonstrate similar effects in terms of increased activity, decreased attention, and diminished intellectual abilities. Epidemiologic studies also suggest that prenatal tobacco exposure is associated with higher rates of behavior problems and school failure.

INTRODUCTION Tobacco smoke exposure of fetuses and children remains common in the United States, despite a 33% reduction in smoking during pregnancy over the past decade (1). It has been convincingly established that parental smoking contributes to many child health problems, such as low birth weight, asthma, respiratory infections, otitis media, and Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (SIDS) (2,3). Both animal model and human epidemiologic studies also strongly suggest that prenatal and early passive exposure to tobacco smoke leads to negative behavioral and neurocognitive effects in children, and there are plausible biologic mechanisms through which this may occur. To date, these negative neurodevelopmental and behavioral associations are far less well recognized by the pediatric, child development and public health communities than are the respiratory and SIDS associations. An expanding body of literature indicates that maternal smoking during pregnancy and early childhood is associated with neurotoxic effects on children. This literature suggests that such exposure results in increased rates of children’s behavior problems and psychiatric disorders, and may also lead to subtle intellectual decrements and 149

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neurocognitive impairments. This exposure is common, rarely confined to the prenatal period, and is often associated with other factors adversely affecting behavioral and cognitive outcomes in children. Lower maternal educational achievement and socioeconomic status, increased rates of maternal depression and anxiety disorder, and alcohol and psychoactive drug use are all more common among women who smoke during pregnancy or during the child bearing and rearing years. Each of these factors, and possibly others as of yet uncovered, may compound the negative effects of children’s tobacco exposure on child development. Other childhood environmental exposures, such as to lead, cause neurodevelopmental problems that are subtle, but serious. This has resulted in substantial clinical, public health, and environmental policy development and implementation, which in turn have been associated with profound reductions in children’s exposure. Children’s prenatal and early passive exposure to tobacco smoke is extremely prevalent and may result in neurocognitive and behavioral problems of similar type and magnitude to those of lead. This paper reviews the literature on the effects of tobacco exposure, both pre- and postnatal, on children’s behavior and cognition.

CHARACTERISTICS OF WOMEN ASSOCIATED WITH MATERNAL SMOKING The prevalence of smoking during pregnancy is estimated to be between 11.4% and 30% of all pregnant women in the United States, with the estimates varying depending on the source of the data and maternal characteristics of the study population, and has been declining in the recent past (4–9). In 2001, approximately 23% of women of childbearing age smoked (7). The most recent national data based on birth records indicates that 11.4% of pregnant women smoke, a 42% decline from 1989 (6). In addition, the proportion of mothers who smoked 11 cigarettes (half a pack) or more per day has declined from 41% in 1989 to 26% in 2002 (6). Smoking during pregnancy varies by ethnicity: American Indians, including Aleuts and Eskimos (19.7%), Hawaiian Asians (13.7%), White (12.3%), Black (8.7%), Hispanic (3.0%), and Asian (2.5%) (6). Prenatal smoking is greatest during late teen years (18.2%) (6). The percentage of pregnant women who smoke varies greatly by education, with more years of education associated with lower rates of smoking: 9–11 years of education (24.1%), 12 years (15.8%), 13–15 years (8.7%), and 16 or more years (1.7%) (6). In addition, more than one-third of all U.S. children are regularly exposed to environmental tobacco smoke as assessed by serum cotinine levels (10,11). Pirkle et al. report that in a survey of 10,642 subjects 4 years and older, 87.9% had detectable levels of serum cotinine (10). Many epidemiologic studies rely on parent reported smoking behavior rather than assessment of biomarkers to characterize fetal and child exposure. This is likely to result in underreporting of exposure, introducing an important bias for studies: some children who are exposed are misclassified or their exposure is underestimated, thereby likely underestimating the effect of tobacco exposure (12). Infants who are exposed to maternal smoking during pregnancy are at increased risk for other toxic exposures. Smoking mothers are more likely to drink and use illicit drugs (13–16). Women smokers differ from nonsmoking women in a number of important psychosocial characteristics (17). Higher rates of unwanted pregnancies (18), difficulties coping with stress, and lower self-esteem (19) are found more commonly among smoking

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women compared to nonsmoking women. Women who smoked during pregnancy have been found to be more likely to report marital difficulties and more likely to physically discipline their infants (20). Smoking mothers are less likely to breastfeed their infants (12,21,22). Women who smoke also are more anxious, change jobs more frequently, and divorce more often than women who do not smoke (23). Associations of cigarette smoking and mental illness are not confined to women who smoke during pregnancy. Cigarette smoking is associated with psychiatric disorders among adolescents and adults in the general population (24–27). Persons with mental illness are about twice as likely to smoke as other persons (28). Data suggest that dopamine-related genes are associated with smoking (29,30), and abnormalities in the dopaminergic reward pathways have been implicated in substance abuse and addictive behaviors (29). Dopamine D2 receptor gene variants have been found to be associated with alcoholism, drug dependency, obesity, smoking, pathological gambling, attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), Tourette syndrome, as well as other compulsive behaviors (31). Linkage studies indicate that there are several possible smoking-associated genes, which include cytochrome P450 subfamily polypeptide 6 (CYP2A6), dopamine D1, D2, and D4 receptors, dopamine transporter, and serotonin transporter genes (32–36). Genetic aspects of behavioral problems that are autosomally linked to smoking are likely to be transmitted equally from smoking mothers and smoking fathers. Studies to date, however, have found that maternal smoking is more strongly associated with adverse developmental outcomes than is paternal smoking (37,38). If parental smoking were simply a marker for genetically driven behavioral problems in children, then studies should find that maternal and paternal smoking contribute equally to adverse outcomes in children, which has not been the case. A number of seminal epidemiologic studies of child development have demonstrated that the number of risk factors present in a child’s life increases the likelihood of adverse outcomes for that child (39–41). Both nature and nurture are responsible for developmental outcomes. Socioeconomic and familial factors sometimes overshadow the role of biology in producing emotional difficulties and intellectual retardation (42). The “transactional model” (43) of child development supposes that a child’s initial biological makeup, including genotype, is not fully expressed at birth, but only develops during an interactive process with the environment. Particularly relevant to the topic at hand are recent findings that demonstrate that the relationship between smoking during pregnancy and low birth weight babies is modified by polymorphisms in two maternal metabolic genes, CYP1A1 and GSTT1 (44), and that children with two copies of a dopamine transporter (DAT) polymorphism are the ones likely to develop ADHD in the presence of parental maternal smoking (45).

POTENTIAL PATHWAY FOR ADVERSE EFFECTS Low Birth Weight In 1957, Simpson (46) reported on the adverse effect of maternal smoking on birth weight, and multiple studies have confirmed this finding (47–50). These studies show a direct dose–response (47,51). Magee and colleagues found the relative risk of low birth weight among smokers was 1.58. In this population, the rate of low birth weight increased from 6.38% in nonsmokers to 11.72% among heavy smokers (52). The effect of prenatal exposure on birth weight is more attributable to intrauterine growth retardation than to pre-term delivery. Kramer et al. (53) estimated the effect of prenatal maternal smoking as a

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5% reduction in relative weight per pack of cigarettes smoked per day, and Meyer and Comstock (54) reported that the effect of maternal cigarette smoking on infant birth weight was an average reduction of 150 g to over 300 g. Both maternal smoking and paternal smoking are associated with lower birth weight, but maternal smoking is associated with more of an effect on birth weight than paternal smoking (37,55). Ong et al. reported that infants of maternal smokers were symmetrically small at birth when compared to infants of nonsmokers, but showed complete catch-up growth by 12 month of age. The mechanisms by which catch-up growth occurs are unknown, but the authors of this study suggest that appetite programming and early childhood nutrition may play significant roles (56). Cigarette smoking is the single most important factor affecting birth weight in developed countries (57). Only one study we are aware of has found no effect of passive exposure to cigarette smoking among nonsmoking mothers (58). Reduction of smoking during pregnancy has been shown to improve infant birth weight (59). Prenatal maternal smoking affects the fetus in a number of ways that may result in chronic hypoxia and thus low birth weight. Placental vascular resistance increases when women smoke during pregnancy (60,61). Along with the known direct vasoconstrictive effect of nicotine, nitric oxide and prostacyclin deficiency may affect the uteroplacental blood flow and contribute to the impaired fetal nutrition of babies born to women who smoke (62). Maternal smoking during pregnancy also is associated with alterations of protein metabolism and enzyme activity in fetal cord blood (63). These may be secondary to irreversible changes in cellular function of the trophoblast and may contribute to fetal growth restriction. Cigarette smoking during pregnancy also transiently lowers maternal uterine blood flow and reduces the flow of oxygen from the uterus to the placenta (64). Increased levels of carboxyhemoglobin are found in both maternal and fetal blood when the mother smokes during pregnancy, and this can lead to fetal hypoxia because carboxyhemoglobin replaces oxyhemoglobin that normally releases oxygen to the fetal tissues (65). The fetus suffers chronic hypoxic stress as a consequence of maternal smoking, as evidenced by elevated neonatal hematocrit levels (66). Poor intrauterine growth has a lasting effect on subsequent development of children (67). Low birth weight infants are at increased risk of emotional and behavioral problems (68–70). Gray and colleagues recently reported that in a sample of low birth weight infants followed over 8 years, the odds of having clinically apparent behavioral problems was 57% higher in low birth weight children whose mother smoked during pregnancy compared to those with non-smoking mothers (71). The sequelae of low birth weight also include lowered cognitive abilities and hyperactivity (72). Breslau et al. (73) found an increase in neurologic soft signs among low birth weight children. These soft signs were in turn associated with increased risk for subnormal IQ and learning disorders among children with normal IQ. Low birth weight also is associated with an increased risk of reading and math disabilities (74). It remains unclear whether the modest decrements in birth weight associated with maternal smoking have neurobehavioral consequences among those who are not born prematurely or of substantially low birth weight, but data exist showing that even among all children born with normal birth weight, on average those with greater birth weights have higher IQs than those with lower birth weights (75). In Utero Brain Growth Maternal smoking increases the likelihood a child will be born with a small head circumference (76). Children born to smoking mothers experience catch-up growth in weight and partial catch-up growth in length, but the differences in head circumference

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persist to at least 5 years of age (77). No difference in head circumference measurements was found when women who are pregnant stop smoking prior to 32 wk gestation, as compared to children of nonsmoking mothers (78).

NEUROCOGNITIVE AND BEHAVIORAL OUTCOMES ASSOCIATED WITH MATERNAL SMOKING At least four comprehensive reviews of the animal model and epidemiologic studies of maternal prenatal tobacco smoke’s effects on brain development, behavior, and neurocognitive functioning of children have been published in the past decade (12,79–81). Cigarette smoke is comprised of more than 2000 chemical compounds (82), and only a relative few of these have been studied for their biologic activity (83,84). Both animal model and human epidemiologic studies have focused primarily on nicotine. Animal Models Animal studies provide experimental models where a toxic exposure can be isolated to the prenatal period and isolated to tobacco exposure. The majority of the animal research has focused on the toxic effects of nicotine, all have focused on exposures in the prenatal period, and the findings have been quite consistent despite the wide variability of study designs employed (79). Animal studies have confirmed that nicotine at doses not causing growth retardation is a neuro-teratogen and alters rodent brain development and behavior (85). Nicotine exposure to the prenatal brain may prematurely stimulate the shift from neuronal proliferation to differentiation, a shift normally occurring later in development. Thus, in the developing brain nicotine may act as a cholinergic signal mimicking the trophic effects of acetylcholine. This finding has been further elucidated in Rhesus macaque monkeys exposed to environmental tobacco smoke in gestation and the early neonatal period, demonstrating that nicotinic acetylcholine receptors are upregulated to sufficient degree to elicit damage to the developing brain not only in rodents, but also in primates (86). As the relative density and distribution of nicotine receptors change during the course of prenatal development, nicotine may elicit different effects at different developmental stages of the human brain (85). Prenatal nicotine exposure significantly increases adrenergic receptor binding in the cerebral cortex of adult animals (87–90). In mouse experiments where the dose and timing of nicotine were varied, Nasrat et al. (91) demonstrated that doses of nicotine equivalent to 20 cigarettes per day in humans resulted in shortening of the gestational period, particularly when that exposure occurred during the second and third trimester. Similar to the findings of human studies, prenatal exposure to nicotine in animal studies consistently is associated with lower birth weight in offspring (15,92–94,103). Animal studies also demonstrate that in multiple species (rats, mice, and guinea pigs), there is increased postnatal motor activity associated with in utero nicotine exposure (95,96,103). Such studies also have found attention and memory deficits in maze task performance (97–99) and mild deficits in learning (96,97,100,103). In two studies in rats, animals exposed to nicotine during gestation showed increased levels of anxiety, poor adaptation, and increased impulsivity in maze tasks with high doses of nicotine (103,104). In many cases, these studies have found alterations in attention, memory, and learning that are consistent with ADHD, but not all studies have found such findings (101–103).

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Nicotine suppresses DNA synthesis in newborn rat brains, especially in the cerebellum (105). Studies in rats have also demonstrated that chronic nicotine exposure alters levels of N-methyl-D-aspartate receptor (NMDAR) subunits in the auditory cortex, thus disrupting auditory cortex development by over-stimulating these glutamatergic synapses. This finding could be the foundation of the auditory-cognitive processing deficits in children exposed to prenatal nicotine (106). Nicotine also reduces dopaminergic activity in the offspring of nicotine-exposed pregnant females in the ventral tegmental area, nucleus accumbens, and striatum. It also reduces the uptake of serotonin (107) and is typically associated with rat hyperactive behavior (29,30). Thus, nicotine in experimental animals has been shown to alter in utero growth, and offspring’s cognitive and motor performance, DNA synthesis, and neurotransmitter function associated with mood. Epidemiologic Studies Observational studies involving humans using both cross-sectional and longitudinal data also suggest negative developmental consequences of children’s prenatal and early passive exposure to tobacco smoke. These studies have used samples that are ethnically, culturally, and socially diverse. These studies support the view that children’s behavior and cognition are adversely affected by prenatal and early childhood tobacco exposure. Many employ multivariate statistical analyses to control for numerous potential confounders of the association between prenatal tobacco exposure and children’s behavior and cognition. Adverse Behavior Outcomes in Children of Smoking Mothers Studies of children whose mothers smoked during pregnancy have consistently demonstrated that such children have higher rates of behavior problems than those not exposed. Olds (12), for example, notes in his paper of 1997 that 10 of 11 human studies reviewed found increased rates of child behavior problems and ADHD-like behaviors even after controlling for many potential confounders (108–121). These studies vary from the newborn period up through adolescence. Newborns and Preschoolers Fried et al. (122) reported increases in hypertonicity and heightened tremors and startles among neonates who were prenatally exposed to tobacco compared to neonates born to nonsmokers. Longo (123) found evidence for neonatal hyperactivity among offspring of smoking mothers. Law et al. found dose–response relationships between higher maternal salivary cotinine and newborn hyperexcitability, hypertonicity, and increased stress/ abstinence signs (124). Reijneveld et al. in a study of 3179 children aged 1–6 month from Holland, found maternal smoking to be the strongest and most consistent predictor of excessive crying (125). They concluded that if maternal smoking indeed causes excessive crying, it may explain between 2.1% and 17.2% of excessive crying during this age period depending upon the definition of excessive crying employed (125). Kelmanson et al. conducted a study involving 250 randomly selected 2–4 month old infants whose mothers completed the Early Infancy Temperament Questionnaires (126). Infants born to smoking mothers had more frequent fussy periods, more protesting behavior at face washing and bath, indifferent attitudes to the mother when held by a new person, extreme reactions during diapering and bowel movements, less attention to the parent during parent/infant play activity, and more sensitivity to wet diapers. They also were

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characterized by more intensive reactions compared to the babies of nonsmokers (126). Wakschlag and Hans examined a group of urban African American infants and found that prenatal smoking was associated with low sociability and negative emotionality scores in boys, but not in girls. These boys were only at risk for these symptoms if they had unresponsive maternal parenting during infancy, demonstrating the synergistic role of environment and prenatal nicotine exposure in the development of conduct problems in infants (127). In a study by Brook et al. (128), maternal smoking during pregnancy was associated with negativity in 2-year-old children. Rauh et al. reported that 2-year-old children exposed to environmental tobacco smoke without active maternal smoking during pregnancy were twice as likely to be cognitively delayed when compared with non-exposed children. Children with both environmental tobacco smoke exposure in pregnancy and a higher level of material hardship exhibited the greatest cognitive deficit. This study demonstrates that passive smoking alone in the home has cognitive effects on the developing fetus (129). Using the National Maternal and Infant Health Survey, Faden and Graubard reported that maternal cigarette smoking during pregnancy was associated with less well developed language, higher activity level, greater difficulty of management, fearfulness, decreased ability to get along with peers, and increased tantrums in a population of three-years old children (130). Williams et al. (131) reported on a prospective longitudinal study of 5342 5-year-old children in which maternal smoking during pregnancy was associated with externalizing behavior problems. These studies, like the studies noted below of older children, suggest that prenatal tobacco exposure may increase the risk for ADHD, Oppositional Defiant Disorder, and Conduct Disorder. School Age Children and Adolescents Weitzman et al. (121), in a longitudinal study involving 2256 U.S. children ages 4–11 years, found that children who were exposed postnatally and both prenatally and postnatally were more likely to have behavior problems, even after controlling for numerous potential confounders. In this study, there was evidence of a dose–effect response and the tobacco exposure effect was not limited to any particular area of children’s behavior, such as antisocial behaviors, anxiety, depression, hyperactivity, or easy distractibility. Fergusson et al. (132) also found maternal smoking during pregnancy to be associated with increased rates of behavior problems in a longitudinal study of a birth cohort of 1265 children up to age 18 years in New Zealand. This study used both teacher and mother reports, thereby eliminating the potential problem that smoking mothers may be less tolerant of children’s behaviors and more likely to report them as abnormal. A clear dose–response relationship between cigarettes smoked during pregnancy and disruptive behaviors, conduct disorder, and attention deficit was found after adjusting for confounding variables. Rantakallio et al. (116) found an association between prenatal cigarette smoking and later delinquency in the Finnish birth cohort study, and Wakschlag et al. (119), in a more recent prospective study in the United States, found that boys ages 7–12 were more likely to be referred for psychiatric care for conduct disorder if their mothers smoked during pregnancy. Wakschlag and Hans later demonstrated that maternal smoking was significantly associated with higher conduct disorder symptoms scores in urban African American 10-year-old boys, but not in girls (127). A study by Weissman et al. also demonstrated the increased risk of conduct disorder in boys, noting that males born to mothers who smoked during pregnancy had a four-fold increased risk of prepubertal-onset of conduct disorder. This study also demonstrated a five-fold increased risk of adolescentonset drug abuse/dependence in females prenatally exposed to nicotine (133). In a recent

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Dutch cohort, Batstra et al. found that after adjusting for confounding variables, children of mothers who smoked during pregnancy showed more signs of attention deficit and higher levels of externalizing behavior compared to non-exposed children, with no evidence against a dose–response relationship (134). In contrast, Silberg et al. found no increased rates of conduct disorder among adolescents with mothers who smoked (135). Maughan et al. used data from the 1970 British Birth Cohort Study to examine the links between maternal smoking in pregnancy and antisocial behavior in offspring (136). This study found a strong dose–response relationship between the extent of pregnancy smoking and childhood-onset conduct disorders, but no links with adolescent-onset antisocial behaviors. Controls for mothers’ subsequent smoking history modified this picture, suggesting that the prime risks for early-onset conduct problems may be associated with persistent maternal smoking or correlates of persistent smoking rather than with pregnancy smoking per se (136). In young adult subjects, Brennen et al. found a dose–response relationship between the amount of maternal prenatal smoking and criminal arrest and psychiatric hospitalization for substance abuse in both male and female offspring (137). Wakschlag et al. reviewed the literature on in utero exposure to maternal smoking as a risk factor for conduct disorder and delinquency and concluded that the association is independent of confounders, present across diverse contexts, and consistent with basic science, but that methodologic limitations preclude causal conclusions (138). They say that the research to date provides consistent support for, but not proof of, an etiologic role for prenatal smoking in the development of antisocial behavior (138). Maughn et al. also explored the role of confounding variables, specifically parental antisocial behavior, maternal depression, family disadvantage, and genetic influences, in the development of conduct problems in 5- and 7-year-olds. They found that prenatal smoking showed a strong dose–response relationship with child conduct problems, however when the confounding genetic and environmental variables were taken into account, the effects of prenatal smoking were reduced by at least 75% (139). This study highlights the multifactorial nature of childhood behavior problems, but does note that prenatal exposure to nicotine remains one of the many factors contributing to conduct difficulties in children. Cognitive Impairments Prenatal exposure to maternal smoking has been shown to adversely affect children’s performance on intelligence and achievement tests, as well as performance in school, although the findings in this area are not as consistent as those for increased rates of behavior problems. Butler and Goldstein (140) demonstrated that children whose mothers smoked 10 or more cigarettes per day were on average between 3 and 5 month delayed in reading, mathematics, and general ability when compared to offspring of nonsmokers. In a population of 10-year-old children, Cornelius et al. demonstrated that prenatal tobacco exposure was associated with a decrease in ability to learn a list of words, reproduce geometric designs from memory, use feedback to change problem-solving strategies, and complete manual dexterity tasks (141). A number of studies (109,110,115,142–145) demonstrated similar effects, while some found effects to virtually disappear after controlling for confounders (146–148). In families in which mothers smoked during some but not all pregnancies, exposed children performed worse on intelligence tests than their unexposed siblings (147). Similarly, children of women who quit smoking during pregnancy have been found to score higher on tests of cognitive ability than children whose mothers smoke throughout pregnancy (111). The Ottawa Prenatal Prospective Study provided longitudinal data regarding auditory processing, reading, and language development. Fried and Watkinson (149)

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found that infants born to maternal smokers have decreased rates of auditory habituation and increased sound thresholds. The children in this study at 12 and 24 month showed decreased responsiveness on auditory-related items on the Bayley Scales of Infant Development associated with prenatal cigarette exposure. By ages 3 and 4 years, language development as assessed by standardized tests was found to be adversely affected by maternal cigarette smoking (110). These findings were dose-related, and persisted in follow-up studies through age 12 years (142,150–152). In 13- to 16-year-old adolescents in this cohort, the strongest relationship between maternal smoking in pregnancy and cognitive variables were seen in overall general intelligence and auditory memory. Using the Wechsler Intelligence Scale for Children, the IQ was linearly and negatively associated with in utero cigarette exposure (153). Using the same cohort to study the effects of prenatal cigarette exposure on various facets of attention, the authors demonstrated that in 152 13- to 16-year-old adolescents, prenatal cigarette exposure was associated with a decreased ability to encode and retain information and an increased impulsivity element (154). A study by Olds et al. (155) estimated the effect of prenatal smoking on cognitive function after controlling for many potential confounders: smoking 10 or more cigarettes per day during pregnancy was independently associated with an average 4.35 point decrease in Stanford–Binet IQ scores. The same investigators also demonstrated that intervention with quality, long-term prenatal nurse home visitation can offset the impairment in intellectual functioning associated with substantial maternal smoking during pregnancy (156). While Olds et al. were unable to estimate how much of the prevention in intellectual impairment was due to smoking cessation itself, the data suggest that the increase in IQ was in part due to a reduction in maternal smoking during pregnancy. Denson et al. (157), in a case control study, showed hyperactivity to be associated in a dose–response manner with maternal smoking. Milberger et al. (114,158) also employed a case control study and found that prenatal tobacco exposure contributes to children’s ADHD. Linnet et al. reviewed literature assessing the relationship between prenatal exposure to nicotine and the risk of developing behavior problems related to ADHD in childhood (159). They concluded that the literature, 24 studies published between 1973 and 2002, demonstrated that nicotine exposure during pregnancy is a risk factor for ADHDrelated disorders among children (159). Mick et al. investigated the association between ADHD and prenatal exposure to maternal cigarette smoking using a retrospective, hospital-based, case-control study of 280 ADHD cases and 242 non-ADHD cases (160). ADHD cases were 2.1 times more likely to have been exposed to cigarettes in utero than were the non-ADHD controls (160). In a more recent twin study, Thapar et al. found a dose–response relationship between the number of cigarettes smoked during pregnancy and ADHD symptom scores, regardless of whether the child was rated by parents or teachers. Maternal smoking during pregnancy showed a significant association with ADHD symptoms that is additional to the influence of genetic factors contributing to the development of ADHD (161). Wasserman et al. examined the association between children’s behavior problems using the Child Behavior Checklist and maternal smoking in Yugoslavia, a country where there is no smoking–social class gradient (162). Mothers were enrolled during pregnancy in a prospective study of lead exposure and the children were assessed using the Child Behavior Checklist (CBCL) at ages 4, 41⁄2 and 5 years. Blood lead level measured twice a year was associated slightly with the delinquent scale. Smoking was associated with worse scores on almost all of the CBCL subscales for boys and with somatic complaints for girls,

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controlling for lead, HOME scores, maternal education, age, gender, lead exposure and birth weight. This study adds to the literature because it controls for lead and because it includes non-economically or socially disadvantaged families (162). School Performance Rantakallio (144) reported data from a 1966 birth cohort of 1819 Finnish children demonstrating that parental smoking is associated with lower mean scores on ‘theoretical subjects based on school reports.’ Byrd and Weitzman (163) demonstrated that children of smoking parents are more likely to repeat kindergarten or first grade, using the U.S. National Health Interview Survey. This study, however, was cross-sectional, and did not distinguish prenatal from childhood passive exposure to tobacco. A recent study of 1186 children aged 5.5–11 years demonstrated that children of smoking mothers performed worse on spelling and arithmetic tasks, and spelling problems were more pronounced when the mother continued to smoke after the child’s birth (134).

RESEARCH IMPLICATIONS Listed below are a series of 10 questions that emanate from the findings to date in this profoundly important field: 1. What additional information can be learned from animal model studies, what are the limitations of extrapolations from such data to effects on children, and what additional animal model studies are indicated? What hypotheses suggested by human studies can better be tested in animal studies? 2. What additional information can be derived from further human epidemiologic investigation, what samples and study designs are indicated, and how would we develop such studies? What hypotheses suggested by animal studies can be tested in epidemiologic studies? 3. Are the adverse neurocognitive and behavioral effects associated with tobacco exposure due to prenatal or early childhood passive exposure, or to both prenatal and postnatal exposure? This is a very difficult question to answer using human observational epidemiologic data, as a very small minority of women smoke only during pregnancy. Animal model studies to date have largely focused on prenatal smoke exposure’s effects on subsequent neurocognitive functioning of offspring. Studies in animals who are not exposed in utero, but are exposed after birth, would help answer this very important question. Moreover, there are different and more chemicals that youngsters are exposed to from environmental tobacco smoke than from direct smoking. Therefore, it is possible that some of these differential exposures may have differing effects. 4. Is there a unique neurobehavioral signature associated with prenatal and early passive exposure to tobacco smoke, or is it variable and does it vary by stage of development at which the fetus or child is exposed? 5. Do tobacco effects vary by whether the exposure is acute or chronic, and is there a critical period of exposure? Similarly, is the effect modified by other environmental exposures, such as to lead and mercury? 6. Do neurobehavioral problems change over the course of childhood, or are they static, and whether changing or static are their effects likely to be more deleterious at different stages of children’s lives?

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7. There is evidence of a dose–effect response between children’s tobacco exposure and various domains of behavior and neurocognitive functioning. Do the slopes of these relationships change over the range of exposure? 8. Are there children who are especially vulnerable to tobacco exposure, such as those growing up in poverty, or with mothers who are poorly educated or depressed, or children with intellectual impairments such as already low IQ, ADHD, or specific learning disabilities? Recent studies, as noted earlier, suggest that there are genetic as well as social characteristics that make certain children more vulnerable than others, but a more robust literature clearly is needed. 9. Are the adverse neurocognitive and behavioral effects reversible if mothers reduce or stop smoking, and if yes, are there times when, or by when it is especially important to reduce or curtail exposure? For example, does reduction or curtailment of tobacco exposure lead to decreased rates of behavior problems or decrements in IQ? Similarly, are there environmental control mechanisms that effectively could reduce children’s exposure to tobacco smoke? 10. Are there parenting strategies or social support interventions that can overcome the biologic effects of tobacco exposure? What are the effects of early intervention on children who have been exposed to maternal smoking?

SUMMARY A causal argument rests on the accumulation of evidence along five major domains: biologic plausibility, consistency, temporality, dose–response gradient, and strength of association. The literature on maternal smoking and subsequent child neurocognitive functioning provides evidence in each of these domains, yet the knowledge base remains incomplete. Biologic plausibility is difficult to demonstrate in human studies because of limitations in human epidemiologic research, but plausibility has been demonstrated in strong animal-model studies. However, the epidemiologic studies do provide a broad base of consistency across populations and across various study designs and endpoint measures. The temporal sequence of exposure preceding outcome, while somewhat cloudy in some human studies, is clearly evident in the animal models. Dose–response relationships remain unclear in many respects. However, again, the animal data provide a basis for concern. In any causal argument, a strong association is a key criterion largely because such associations are unlikely to be explained away by other factors. This is a very important consideration in the association between prenatal tobacco exposure and adverse behavioral and neurocognitive effects on children. Some remain skeptical (12,79,80,164) of research demonstrating adverse effects of smoking during pregnancy. As noted elsewhere, differences exist between smoking and nonsmoking mothers that might explain adverse outcomes among the offspring of smoking mothers, i.e., heavy and moderate smokers receive less prenatal care, recognize their pregnancies later, and report more symptoms of depression than do nonsmokers and light smokers (40). These differences suggest that smokers are more likely to be depressed and less likely to practice health-promoting behaviors for themselves or their children. However, a significant number of observational studies have controlled for numerous potential confounders, including depression and substance abuse, and the association between smoking and adverse child neurocognitive outcomes remained. Intervention

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studies and animal models also potently contradict the contention that maternal smoking simply is a proxy for other factors responsible for adverse neurocognitive and behavioral outcomes. The magnitude of the adverse behavioral and neurocognitive effects of tobacco exposure for individual children remains unclear, and some available measurements seem modest, i.e., a decrement of 4–5 IQ points and an odds ratio of approximately 1.5 for adverse developmental or behavioral outcomes. Yet, considerable public resources have been directed to other problems having a similar magnitude of effect, and given the vast numbers of children effected the net effect on a societal level would be expected to be quite large. It also is essential that we recognize that an insult of this type and magnitude, when coupled with other risks that tend to cluster among a significant percentage of exposed children, may have substantial effects on functioning and quality of life across the life span. While many questions remain, both animal model and human epidemiologic data clearly suggest a causal relationship between prenatal tobacco exposure and adverse behavioral and neurocognitive effects on children.

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142. Fogelman KR, Manor O. Smoking in pregnancy and development into early adulthood. Brit Med J 1988; 297:1233–1236. 143. Fried PA, Oconnell CM, Watkinson B. 60-month and 72-month follow-up of children prenatally exposed to marijuana, cigarettes, and alcohol—cognitive and language assessment. J Dev Behav Pediatr 1992; 13:383–391. 144. Rantakallio P. A follow-up-study up to the age of 14 of children whose mothers smoked during pregnancy. Acta Paediatr Scandinav 1983; 72:747–753. 145. Rantakallio P, Koiranen M. Neurological handicaps among children whose mothers smoked during pregnancy. Prev Med 1987; 16:597–606. 146. Baghurst PA, Tong SL, Woodward A, McMichael AJ. Effects of maternal smoking upon neuropsychological development in early childhood: importance of taking account of social and environmental factors. Paediatr Perinat Epidemiol 1992; 6:403–415. 147. Fergusson DM, Lloyd M. Smoking during pregnancy and its effects on child cognitive ability from the ages of 8 to 12 years. Paediatr Perinat Epidemiol 1991; 5:189–200. 148. Mcgee R, Stanton WR. Smoking in pregnancy and child-development to age 9 years. J Paediatr Child Health 1994; 30:263–268. 149. Fried PA, Watkinson B. 12-month and 24-month neurobehavioural follow-up of children prenatally exposed to marihuana, cigarettes and alcohol. Neurotoxicol Teratol 1988; 10:305–313. 150. Fried PA, Watkinson B. Visuoperceptual functioning differs in 9- to 12-years olds prenatally exposed to cigarettes and marihuana. Neurotoxicol Teratol 2000; 22:11–20. 151. Fried PA, Watkinson B, Gray R. Differential effects on cognitive functioning in 9- to 12-years olds prenatally exposed to cigarettes and marihuana. Neurotoxicol Teratol 1998; 20:293–306. 152. Fried PA, Watkinson B, Siegel LS. Reading and language in 9- to 12-years olds prenatally exposed to cigarettes and marijuana. Neurotoxicol Teratol 1997; 19:171–183. 153. Fried PA, Watkinson B, Gray R. Differential effects on cognitive functioning in 13- to 16year-olds prenatally exposed to cigarettes and marihuana. Neurotoxicol Teratol 2003; 25:427–436. 154. Fried PA, Watkinson B. Differential effects on facets of attention in adolescents prenatally exposed to cigarettes and marihuana. Neurotoxicol Teratol 2001; 23:421–430. 155. Olds DL, Henderson CR, Tatelbaum R. Intellectual impairment in children of women who smoke cigarettes during pregnancy. Pediatrics 1994; 93:221–227. 156. Olds DL, Henderson CR, Tatelbaum R. Prevention of intellectual impairment in children of women who smoke cigarettes during pregnancy. Pediatrics 1994; 93:228–233. 157. Denson R, Nanson JL, Mcwatters MA. Hyperkinesis and maternal smoking. Can Psychiatric Assoc J 1975; 20:183–187. 158. Milberger S, Biederman J, Faraone SV, Jones J. Further evidence of an association between maternal smoking during pregnancy and attention deficit hyperactivity disorder: Findings from a high-risk sample of siblings. J Clin Child Psychol 1998; 27:352–358. 159. Linnet KM, Dalsgaard S, Obel C, Wisborg K, Henriksen TB, Rodriguez A, et al. Maternal lifestyle factors in pregnancy risk of attention deficit hyperactivity disorder and associated behaviors: Review of the current evidence. Am J Psychiatry 2003; 160:1028–1040. 160. Mick E, Biederman J, Faraone SV, Sayer J, Kleinman S. Case-control study of attentiondeficit hyperactivity disorder and maternal smoking, alcohol use, and drug use during pregnancy. J Amer Acad Child Adol Psychiatry 2002; 41:378–385. 161. Thapar A, Fowler T, Rice F, et al. Maternal smoking during pregnancy and attention deficit hyperactivity disorder symptoms in offspring. Am J Psychiatry 2003; 160:1985–1989. 162. Wasserman GA, Liu XH, Pine DS, Graziano JH. Contribution of maternal smoking during pregnancy and lead exposure to early child behavior problems. Neurotoxicol Teratol 2001; 23:13–21. 163. Byrd RS, Weitzman ML. Predictors of early grade retention among children in the United States. Pediatrics 1994; 93:481–487. 164. Ramsay MC, Reynolds CR. Does smoking by pregnant women influence IQ, birth weight, and developmental disabilities in their infants? A methodological review and multivariate analysis Neuropsychol Rev 2000; 10:1–40.

9 Lessons Learned: Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorders Christie L. McGee, Susanna L. Fryer, and Sarah N. Mattson Center for Behavioral Teratology, Department of Psychology, San Diego State University, San Diego, California, U.S.A.

INTRODUCTION Fetal Alcohol Syndrome (FAS) is a devastating developmental disorder resulting from heavy prenatal alcohol exposure. Worldwide incidence rates of FAS average about 1 case per 1000 live births (1), which makes FAS the leading preventable cause of mental retardation (2). The diagnosis of FAS requires a constellation of three symptom classes: (1) growth deficiency, (2) cranio-facial abnormalities, and (3) central nervous system (CNS) dysfunction (3–5). Research from animal models of prenatal ethanol exposure and from observational human exposure studies has shown evidence of a dose–response relationship to alcohol’s teratogenic capacity (6). FAS falls at the most severe end of the outcome spectrum, and is associated with high levels of maternal alcohol consumption, such as those associated with alcohol abuse or dependence. However, in other cases, prenatal alcohol exposure can produce neurobehavioral dysfunction in the absence of the gross physical abnormalities required for clinical recognition of FAS (7). The reason for this disparity of outcome is unknown but may be related to dose or timing of exposure or other maternal or fetal considerations. However, it is apparent that more individuals are adversely affected by prenatal alcohol exposure than those meeting the diagnostic criteria for FAS. Recognizing the wide-ranging effects of prenatal alcohol exposure, the National Task Force on Fetal Alcohol Syndrome and Fetal Alcohol Effect has adopted the umbrella term Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorders (FASD) to describe the outcome range resulting from prenatal alcohol exposure (8). These effects vary from full-blown FAS to subtle neurobehavioral, growth, or physical deficits. Using this classification, FAS would be a case of dysmorphic FASD (i.e., all three of the diagnostic criteria described above are met, including the characteristic pattern of facial anomalies). Individuals with a documented history of prenatal alcohol exposure and some neurobehavioral deficits thought to be related to that exposure, who lack the distinct pattern of structural anomalies in FAS, would be considered to have nondysmorphic FASD. Historically, several terms have been used to classify individuals with histories of alcohol exposure who do not meet full criteria for FAS. These terms include Fetal Alcohol Effects (FAE), Alcohol-Related Birth Defects (ARBD), 169

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Alcohol-Related Neurodevelopmental Disorder (ARND), Prenatal Exposure to Alcohol (PEA), and static encephalopathy. For reasons of comparison and coherence of this chapter, we will adopt the use of the classification system proposed by the National Task Force discussed above. Thus, individuals affected by prenatal alcohol exposure will be identified collectively as FASD. As noted previously, nondysmorphic and dysmorphic individuals have been found to perform similarly on neuropsychological measures; thus, the distinction between nondysmorphic and dysmorphic FASD will only be noted when differences have emerged. This methodologically focused review should provide the reader with a good understanding of what is currently known about the teratogenic effects of alcohol on neuropsychological functioning and identify important areas of functioning that may be vulnerable to other teratogens. For each neuropsychological domain of interest, discussion of results from prospective studies will be followed with discussion of results from retrospective studies, so that the reader may better understand the ways in which methodological differences in study design might influence data interpretation. It is our hope that the study of other teratogens may benefit from this knowledge so that future studies can hone research designs and analyses, to optimally answer questions of interest to the field of behavioral teratology.

METHODOLOGY Before describing neuropsychological outcomes of prenatally exposed individuals, examination of possible methodological concerns of such studies should be highlighted. Researchers must carefully consider the ascertainment method used when designing studies, as both prospective and retrospective designs have advantages and disadvantages and implications for conclusions and generalizability. In this discussion, methodological concerns of prospectively designed studies will be presented first, followed by those of retrospectively designed studies. It is the behavioral teratogenicity of alcohol, that is, the drug’s ability to cause birth defects of a cognitive or behavioral nature, which has been the focus of population-based research of prenatal alcohol exposure at mostly moderate or “social-drinking” levels. The goal of such studies is systematic investigation of a fundamental hypothesis in behavioral teratology, which is that in cases where high levels of exposure to a substance lead to severe developmental impairment, lower exposure levels will lead to more subtle deficits (9). Usually such studies have adopted a prospective, longitudinal study design. In prospective studies, the study participants are identified before the outcome of interest occurs. Typically, prospective subject recruitment entails screening pregnant women to identify those that are likely to give birth to offspring exposed to the teratogen of interest, or identifying exposed infants at the time of birth (or very shortly thereafter). Because of the prospective nature of these studies, the number of cases with heavy exposure (or FAS) are typically very small and thus sample sizes must be very large to detect alcohol effects. In addition, the clinical significance of small effect sizes must be considered. Prospective studies have several advantages, and can be especially useful in the case of prenatal alcohol exposure, given potential reliability problems with retrospective maternal recall of drinking (10). Moreover, because alcohol leaves no long-lasting metabolite behind in the body, postnatal physiological verification of maternal alcohol dosage is not possible. Additionally, prospective identification of study participants offers greater capability to control for confounding factors, because environmental and demographic information can be collected more accurately at or near the time of

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exposure. Most prospective studies of prenatal alcohol exposure are also longitudinal. In a longitudinal design, study participants are repeatedly assessed on the response measures of choice. In contrast to a cross-sectional design, where outcomes are measured at one time point, in a longitudinal study, subjects are studied throughout the course of development, and conclusions can be drawn regarding changes in outcome over time. For these reasons, a longitudinal study design with prospective subject recruitment is advantageous over a cross-sectional study design with retrospective subject recruitment. However, prospective, longitudinal studies are time-consuming and expensive to conduct and so are often not feasible to undertake. Prospective longitudinal designs allow for more accurate exposure measurement. In the Seattle Study on Alcohol and Pregnancy, a large-scale population based study of prenatal alcohol exposure, Streissguth and colleagues highlighted the importance of measuring more than a single dimension of prenatal exposure (11). The Seattle study used a quantity-frequency-variability structured interview to assess maternal alcohol intake, thereby obtaining several measurements about the dose, timing, and nature of the exposure to alcohol. Outcome measure selection is yet another important consideration in study design. Whenever possible, it is advisable to consult with clinicians who have observed or treated both the physical and psychological symptoms of individuals with known exposures to the teratogen under study. Of course, this ideal may not be possible in the initial phases of investigation. In such cases, clinical expertise should be incorporated at a time when the teratogenic effects of the compound become more widely recognized (11). There are also special considerations when undertaking a prospective, longitudinal study of behavioral teratogenesis. For instance, causal inferences between teratogenic exposure and neurobehavioral outcome must be considered in light of potentially confounding influences such as demographic information, prenatal exposure to other drugs, postnatal environment, and child’s age (12). Additionally, the failure to detect effects that actually exist, often referred to as “false negatives” or Type II error, is especially problematic in neurotoxicity research, given the potential for studies with negative results to be interpreted in public policy arenas as demonstrating little or no public health threat of the exposure in question. When designing a behavioral neurotoxicity study, a priori power analyses can be used to determine the sample size necessary to detect an effect. Jacobson and Jacobson also list common sources of Type II error in behavioral teratology, including failure to sample adequately high-level exposures, over-controlling for confounding influences, and statistical overcorrection of multiple comparisons (12). Thus, one must strike a balance between controlling confounds and Type II error reduction. In order to detect adverse outcomes, it is frequently necessary to oversample individuals who have experienced high levels of exposure; failure to do so can lead to inaccurate conclusions regarding the teratogenic capacity of an agent (13). Vorhees underscored the utility and efficiency, for government regulatory purposes, of focusing research on the high-level end of teratogenic exposure (9). Retrospective studies on the effects of prenatal alcohol exposure typically focus on individuals with heavy exposure levels, thus filling an important niche in FASD research. In contrast to prospectively-focused studies, in retrospective studies subjects are included based on past events (i.e., prenatal alcohol exposure). For example, retrospective recruitment for a study of alcohol’s teratogenic effects would identify subjects after the alcohol exposure occurred, that is, anytime after the birth of the child. Because retrospective studies do not typically screen a large, population-representative cohort, they often identify potential research subjects on the basis of known alcohol exposure or neurodevelopmental problems. Such samples are sometimes referred to as “clinically referred,” because the subjects may come to the attention of the researchers because of

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some clinically significant manifestation of prenatal alcohol exposure. In addition, these studies are more subject to selection bias than studies with a prospective design. However, some retrospective studies involve children identified at or near birth based on a history of heavy prenatal alcohol exposure or features of FAS; selection bias is less of a problem in these cases. Unlike most prospective studies, retrospective studies of FASD typically evaluate individuals exposed prenatally to heavy amounts of alcohol, although the precise dose is often unknown. The design of retrospective studies in this field generally involves the comparison of groups of heavily exposed individuals and nonexposed controls rather than treating alcohol as a continuous variable. More recent studies have found that individuals exposed to large amounts of alcohol prenatally who do not meet the criteria for a diagnosis of FAS present with a similar neuropsychological profile as individuals with FAS (7). Thus, in retrospective studies, groups of children and adolescents with heavy prenatal alcohol exposure with and without a diagnosis of FAS are often combined into an alcohol-exposed (or FASD) group and compared with nonexposed controls. Retrospective studies may be characterized by various types of bias and confounding influences. Reporting bias is a common problem in retrospective studies in general; patient reports of past behavior are often inaccurate. As antenatal reporting of alcohol consumption is more accurate than retrospective recall (10), the reliability of maternal alcohol consumption measures poses a major difficulty to retrospective studies in this field. Because children are identified after birth and medical records and/or contact with the biological mother are often unavailable, precise measurement of the alcohol exposure is difficult to attain. Even when the biological mother is available, it is unlikely she will be able to accurately recall her drinking pattern during her pregnancy, especially since alcohol consumption typically varies throughout pregnancy. Thus, reliable evaluation of dose–response variables is typically not possible in retrospective studies. When children with a diagnosis of FAS are evaluated, this problem of reporting bias is largely circumvented since characteristic facial features are indicative of this exposure. However, when children with nondysmorphic FASD are included in a research sample, there is more of a reliance on prenatal alcohol history. In addition to reporting bias, retrospective studies may face ascertainment bias. Subjects are often recruited from specialty clinics or are referred by doctors or other community agencies rather than by random selection and random group assignment. In addition to these biases, factors such as cultural or socioeconomic effects may confound results, although this is not restricted to retrospective studies. Other potential confounding variables such as maternal IQ, paternal effects, medication and other drug usage during pregnancy, and other comorbid factors may not be addressed in retrospective studies. Well-controlled studies with well-matched comparison groups can help reduce a number of these confounding factors. Although retrospective studies have several disadvantages in comparison to prospective studies, they offer several advantages to researchers. The largest advantage is that sample size and length of time needed to conduct the study, and therefore the overall cost, are reduced in comparison to prospective studies. Additional benefits include the ability to include distinct control or comparison groups and increased sampling of more severe cases. Thus, larger effect sizes and therefore clinically significant group differences are possible. In addition, problems such as subject attrition and instrument revisions rarely affect retrospective studies, since the majority of studies are cross-sectional in design. Another important methodological consideration in behavioral teratology concerns dosage of the compound of interest. Distillation of dose–response relationships in behavioral teratology is complex due to the interaction of many influences. Such factors include critical periods in fetal development, which are specific times during gestation of elevated susceptibility to teratogenic effect. By definition, critical periods imply that the

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dose–response relationship is bound to be of a complicated, non-linear nature. Moreover, the timing of critical periods can vary by brain region, meaning that exposure to alcohol at any given time point may not uniformly affect the developing fetal brain. Generally speaking, there is evidence from both animal models and human exposure research that the effects of prenatal alcohol exposure fall on a dose–response continuum, with the most severe outcomes associated with heavy exposure, and moderate or low levels of exposure associated with more subtle detriments (6,14,15). The Maternal Health Practice and Child Development study is a longitudinal project that has provided evidence for a dose– response relationship with regard to the physiological effects of prenatal alcohol exposure, including decreases in height, weight, and head circumference along with palpebral fissure and skinfold thickness abnormalities. These findings persist into adolescence and are apparent at exposure levels less than one drink per day (16). In addition, studies have suggested that the pattern of alcohol exposure influences developmental outcome. For instance, in one study a binge drinking style (defined as five or more alcoholic drinks per occasion) during pregnancy, especially during early pregnancy, was reported as the best indicator of child outcome (17). Yet the same authors point out that many manifestations of fetal alcohol effects seem unassociated with timing or course of alcohol dose (15).

REVIEW OF NEUROPSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE Cognitive Processing The majority of investigations on the effects of maternal drinking have linked prenatal alcohol exposure to compromised neuropsychological outcomes, even at low levels of exposure. The general consensus from the prospective literature is that low to moderate levels of exposure lead to deficits in a wide array of neuropsychological domains including attention, memory, learning, visuo-spatial cognition, motor ability, and executive function; these deficits do not dissipate with time, and they exhibit dose-dependent qualities (14,18). A few studies have failed to show effects associating neurobehavioral detriment with prenatal alcohol exposure (19,20). The authors of these studies make a salient point that prenatal alcohol exposure does not necessarily lead to a poor cognitive outcome. However, though studies failing to show an effect of maternal drinking on infant outcome exist, they contradict the general consensus of the research literature, which provides evidence for alcohol’s capacity as a behavioral teratogen, even at low exposure levels. A point of debate in the neuropsychological literature is the degree to which the putative neurocognitive deficits associated with prenatal alcohol exposure represent general or specific disabilities. Results from a cohort being followed longitudinally in Finland did not support the notion of a specific profile, contrary to initial hypotheses of the investigators (21). Assessment with the WISC-III (Finnish version) and NEPSY-A subtests demonstrated alcohol exposure effects in attention and executive functioning, but the deficits were no greater than those of several other neurocognitive domains, including language, manual motor function, visuo-spatial skills, verbal memory, and learning. The authors concluded that the neuropsychological profile of prenatal alcohol exposure is one of general, rather than selective, impairment (21). This particular study may be capturing a different range of the alcohol exposure spectrum than other studies, though cross-cultural and socioeconomic status considerations are also possible explanations for these results. A meta-analysis of the effects of prenatal alcohol exposure on infant cognition examined impairments on the Bayley Scale’s Mental Development Index (MDI) (22). Results from infants 12–13 months of age revealed that prenatal alcohol exposure was

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associated with decreases in MDI scores at the three different dosage levels examined. Assessment of the same children at 6–8 months and 18–26 months, however, did not reveal any association between exposure and MDI scores, possibly reflecting differences in the sensitivity and content of the MDI leading to variation in the measurement’s capability to detect prenatal alcohol exposure effects (22). Assessment of 482 second graders from the Seattle cohort indicated that exposure to one or more absolute ounces of alcohol per day was associated with a decrease in IQ of 6.7 points, which is almost half of one standard deviation (23). Additionally, these analyses indicated that environmental factors (paternal IQ and number of young children in the household) interacted with alcohol exposure to influence general cognitive outcome. More specifically, decreased paternal IQ and/or increased numbers of young children in the household were associated with poorer outcomes in alcohol-exposed offspring as measured by IQ tests (23). In the school-aged analysis, Digit Span and Arithmetic subtests from the WISC-R Verbal Scale were most closely associated with alcohol exposure (23). There was no evidence for differential alcohol effects between the verbal and performance IQ scores. Interestingly, when this cohort had been assessed at four years of age, performance IQ showed greater deficits than verbal IQ (18). This discrepancy between assessment time points might mean that the effects of alcohol on general cognitive capacity are dynamic in response to developmental time point, or, alternatively, it could simply reflect psychometric differences between test versions. At 14 years of age, the Arithmetic subtest from the Verbal Scale of the WISC-R continued to have the strongest association with prenatal alcohol exposure, suggesting a potent longitudinal effect of exposure on arithmetic ability (18), although the relative contribution of attention and short-term memory to this subtest cannot be discounted. The most frequently used tests in the evaluation of general intellectual functioning of children and adolescents with histories of heavy alcohol exposure have been the Wechsler Intelligence Scales. The mean Full Scale IQ (FSIQ) for children with FAS has been estimated to be between 65 and 72 (24), and results have demonstrated that children with dysmorphic features tend to have somewhat lower IQ scores than those without dysmorphic features (25). Verbal IQ and Performance IQ were also evaluated, and both alcohol-exposed groups had significantly lower mean IQ scores on both indices than controls, but did not differ significantly from each other. Language/Verbal Skills Language impairments have been found in a variety of studies of FASD. For instance, in the Seattle cohort, 462 fourteen-year olds showed impaired performance on a phonological processing task (26), suggesting that language may be affected even at low exposure levels. Yet, no evidence of an association between alcohol exposure and deficits in expressive language, receptive language, or speech was found in a populationbased cohort study of low socioeconomic status urban children exposed to moderate levels of alcohol prenatally (27). The children were assessed at one, two, and three years of age. Possible reasons for the discrepancy between these two studies include age range of child assessed, socioeconomic status, and nature and specificity of language deficit. In contrast, both receptive and expressive language skill deficits have been reported in children with heavy prenatal alcohol exposure (7,28–30), as have speech disorders, including mild problems such as production errors on one or two consonant phonemes, or more severe problems such as marked difficulty with production that resulted in low speech intelligibility (28). In addition, due to the inherent craniofacial abnormalities in children

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with FAS, it is not rare for children with this disorder to have impairments in speech mechanisms and production arising from physical anomalies of the maxilla or palate (31). One study, using the Test of Language Development, examined grammatical components of receptive and expressive language. Results suggested that, compared with matched controls, older children with FAS presented with primarily syntactic deficits, whereas younger children displayed more global language deficits (32). Because children with FAS are generally smaller for their age, deficits in language may not be recognized because people underestimate the alcohol-exposed child’s actual age and deficits in language may be consistent with their overall lower cognitive functioning. Becker, Warr-Leeper, and Leeper (33) evaluated grammatical and semantic abilities to determine if deficits were consistent with mental age. In this study, children with FAS displayed delayed grammatical skills that were consistent with their general cognitive impairments, but articulation and speech production were impaired beyond what would be expected based on cognitive deficits. Learning and Memory A substantial body of literature has begun to accumulate on the learning and memory skills of children affected by prenatal alcohol exposure. Memory is often conceptualized as consisting of two main divisions: explicit memory and implicit memory. Explicit memory involves the conscious storage and retrieval of information, whereas implicit memory relies on unconscious recall of previously performed tasks. Both implicit and explicit memory have been examined in alcohol-exposed children. When compared to nonexposed controls matched by age, sex, and ethnicity, children prenatally exposed to alcohol displayed relatively intact implicit memory on a priming task, but impaired explicit memory skills (34). Explicit memory was assessed through both a free recall task and a recognition task. In comparison with controls, alcohol-exposed children demonstrated impaired performance on the free recall task but intact recognition memory skills, which suggested retrieval deficits in addition to the encoding deficits demonstrated in other studies (35,36). Although other studies have found recognition deficits, the type of recognition task used in this study aimed to eliminate the influence of positive response bias by utilizing a two-alternative forced choice paradigm rather than yes–no. Verbal Learning and Memory The majority of explicit memory studies in children with FASD have focused on impairments in verbal learning and memory. In a series of studies, Mattson and colleagues have evaluated the verbal learning (acquisition) and memory (retention) skills of children exposed to large amounts of alcohol prenatally using the California Verbal Learning Test for Children (CVLT-C). In the first of this series of studies, the authors (35) found that in comparison with controls, children with FAS recalled fewer words on five immediate recall trials, displayed poorer performance on both the long delay free recall and cued recall, and were less able to discriminate between target items from foils on a recognition task. Thus, children with FAS learned fewer words and had more difficulty recalling these words after a delay. Importantly, there was no significant difference on retention measures, indicating that deficits were at the level of encoding rather than retrieval. Some, but not all, deficits persisted when compared to a mental age control group, suggesting that while many of the verbal learning tasks seen in FAS may be due to a global decline in cognitive ability, some features may be specific to prenatal alcohol exposure. Subsequent studies replicated the pattern of verbal learning deficits and spared retention in children with

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nondysmorphic FASD (7) and indicated that the spared retention may be due to the use of an implicit learning strategy (37). In another study, Mattson and Roebuck (36) compared both verbal and nonverbal learning and memory in children with histories of heavy prenatal alcohol exposure. In this study, a direct comparison was made between verbal and nonverbal learning and memory skills using tests of similar structure: the CVLT-C, which measures verbal skills and the Biber Figure Learning Test (BFLT), which tests nonverbal skills. Results suggested that, in addition to initial encoding difficulties for both verbal and nonverbal information, children exposed prenatally to alcohol had storage or retrieval deficits for nonverbal information. These results were recently confirmed in a prospective study with moderate prenatal exposure to alcohol (38). The study by Mattson and Roebuck (36) also demonstrated reduced learning on the learning subtests of the Wide Range Assessment of Memory and Learning (WRAML). Overall, the pattern of results suggested that alcoholexposed subjects benefit from repeated exposure to material, but to a lesser degree than controls. These findings were recently replicated (39). Spatial memory has been evaluated in several studies. In general, results suggest intact object recall but impaired spatial location recall (40,41). However, one study indicated that once deficits in perceptual skills and verbal memory impairment were accounted for, no significant differences were present on spatial memory (42). In a recent study, the Morris Water Maze task was adapted for the computer and used to evaluate spatial learning and memory in children with prenatal alcohol exposure (43). This task, which has been used to evaluate animal models of FASD, is sensitive to hippocampal damage (44,45). Alcohol-exposed children demonstrated impaired place learning relative to controls but were equally proficient during the cue-navigation phase. These results are consistent with animal studies, which suggest the possible involvement of the hippocampus in place learning. Visuospatial Ability In addition to deficits in spatial learning and memory, children exposed to heavy amounts of alcohol prenatally have been shown to have deficits in visuospatial construction skills. Visuospatial skills are often assessed with a figure copy task called the Beery-Buktenica Developmental Test of Visual-Motor Integration (VMI). Impairments on this measure have been consistently shown for children with FASD (7,29,30). However, when visual perceptual abilities were examined without the motor drawing component in one study, no differences were found, suggesting that impairment on the VMI in alcohol-exposed children may be due to motor difficulties rather than perceptual problems (30). Visuospatial skills have further been examined using the Global–Local Task (46). On this task, alcohol-exposed children demonstrated difficulties recalling local features of hierarchical stimuli, but showed little to no impairment in recalling the global features when compared with controls. These deficits were not due to the smaller stimulus size of the local features or to the memory component of the task as they were apparent only when the targets were hierarchical figures and persisted on a copy condition. Attention Attention is an important area of focus in FASD research, given the characteristic attention deficits exhibited by individuals with histories of prenatal alcohol exposure. Attention deficits and hyperactivity are associated with prenatal alcohol exposure, regardless of cognitive impairment; in fact, hyperactive disorders are among the most frequent

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comorbid diagnoses with FAS (47). One longitudinal study of the effects of lower levels of prenatal alcohol exposure on attention assessed children with vigilance tasks at ages four, seven, and fourteen (48). Such tasks are thought to tap sustained attention skills, requiring study participants to respond to the infrequent and sporadic presentation of a target stimulus. These tasks are not cognitively challenging, but are designed to be repetitive and therefore demanding on attention systems. This study found that prenatal alcohol exposure was associated with increased variability in the time it took for an individual to respond to items on the vigilance task (49). Moreover, variability of reaction time was correlated with behavior ratings of attention deficits made by the participant’s parent, teacher, and test examiner, suggesting that low to moderate levels of prenatal alcohol exposure can lead to clinically significant attention deficits. However, a separate study of low alcohol exposure failed to demonstrate a relationship between prenatal alcohol exposure and attention variables (50). A recent study evaluated both auditory and visual sustained attention in prospectively identified alcohol-exposed individuals in comparison with nonexposed controls (51). The dysmorphic alcohol-exposed group performed significantly worse than controls and the nondysmorphic group when stimuli were presented visually, whereas no group differences were evident in the auditory modality. A similar study comparing visual and auditory attention indicated that children with FASD have pervasive deficits in visual focused attention but that their ability to attend to auditory information was only affected when required to attend over longer periods of time (52). Given the relatively high rate of co-occurrence of prenatal alcohol exposure and attention deficits, research has focused on comparing the attention deficits associated with prenatal alcohol exposure to those seen in Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD). A sub-sample drawn from a longitudinal study of prenatal alcohol exposure compared alcohol-exposed African-American children from low socioeconomic status backgrounds to children diagnosed with ADHD (53). The study methodology relied on a stratified assessment strategy where the alcohol-exposed and ADHD group performance were compared on: (1) a test battery including behavioral, psychiatric, and externalizing measures of attention, and (2) test measures based on Mirsky’s four-factor neurologically based etiological model of attention. The Mirsky model poses that four primary factors comprise attention: focus, encoding, sustaining, and shifting (54). Group comparisons from both test batteries suggested different attention deficit profiles for alcohol exposure and ADHD; the alcohol-exposed group had trouble with tests tapping the encoding and shifting aspects of attention, while the ADHD group had greater difficulty with the focusing and sustaining of attention (53). In addition, a discriminant function analysis indicated that the neuropsychological measures from the traditional battery could differentiate the effects of alcohol exposure from ADHD with a reliability rate of 71%. Results of the discriminant analysis suggested that FAS was best identified by tests tapping visuospatial skills, information encoding, and problem solving skills, while ADHD was best identified by tasks that require focusing and sustaining attention and by the Achenbach Child Behavior Checklist (CBCL). Interestingly, the ADHD group was correctly classified at a much higher rate (85% accuracy) than the FAS group (44% accuracy). Only 12% of the FAS group, however, was misclassified as ADHD (53). The study authors concluded that it is possible that the discrepant neuropsychological profile between alcohol-exposed and ADHD groups can be explained by underlying attention deficits caused by compromises in different brain regions (53). Ultimately, this suggests that attention deficits associated with prenatal alcohol exposure may respond best to different treatment approaches than those designed for children with ADHD. Specifically, psychopharmacological and behavioral interventions aimed at mitigating

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attention problems in FASD might do better focusing on encoding, and the complex relationship between memory, learning, and attention, rather than the ADHD-driven clinical foci on sustaining and focusing attention (53). Additionally, an earlier study compared alcohol-exposed children to children with ADHD and controls on a series of computer-based tests of attention, and found different patterns of performance for all three groups (55). Both the alcohol-exposed and ADHD group exhibited significantly higher impulsive errors than controls. Children with ADHD were able to respond as quickly as controls but made more errors. Alcohol-exposed children were slower but produced equal errors to the ADHD group. In addition, the alcohol-exposed children had slower response time than the ADHD and control groups on a vigilance task. Furthermore, the Connors Abbreviated Parent Teacher Questionnaire, a commonly used measure to assess hyperactive behavior and evaluate treatment response, was administered to the sample. Alcohol-exposed children were rated as having significantly higher levels of hyperactivity by their parents and teachers than control children, and scores were not significantly different on this measure from children with ADHD (55). A recent study used logistic regression to classify retrospectively identified heavyexposed children versus controls based on performance on standard, widely used measures of attention (56). The final model included the Freedom from Distractibility index from the WISC-III and the Attention Problems scale from the CBCL. Overall classification accuracy was 91.7%, with 93.3% of the alcohol-exposed children and 90% of the control children classified accurately. These data indicate that children prenatally exposed to heavy amounts of alcohol can be distinguished from nonexposed controls with a high degree of accuracy based on two commonly used measures of attention. Reaction Time Reaction time (RT) is an indicator of cognitive processing efficiency. In general, both prospective and retrospective studies have demonstrated increased or more variable RT, which suggests that individuals prenatally exposed to alcohol suffer from inefficient cognitive processing systems. Prenatal alcohol exposure was found to have a negative impact on information processing in a sample of 403 African-American infants, as evidenced by longer fixation times during testing (57). Longer fixation times on cognitive tasks are thought to reflect slowed and/or inefficient information processing abilities. Prenatal alcohol exposure, however, was not associated with performance impairments in visual recognition memory or information transfer across sensory modalities (57). The same authors have shown an association between maternal alcohol consumption and both increased infant RT and decreased fast responses (57). These RT findings were dose-dependent and independent of confounding factors that could potentially influence RT such as maternal depression and infant intellectual stimulation. Cognitive processing has been examined in older study participants with prenatal alcohol exposure histories. In a follow-up of the Seattle cohort during young adolescence, cognitive processing was examined using three separate computer-administered tasks that each tapped one of the following domains: (1) procedural and declarative learning (Nissen sequence learning task), (2) spatial-visual reasoning, and (3) reading speed, memory, and comprehension (Rapid Single Visual Presentation task). On the spatial-visual reasoning task, there was a speed-accuracy tradeoff in favor of speed and this tradeoff was related to alcohol exposure (58). Several retrospective studies have demonstrated that RT measures are dependant on motor performance and have attempted to separate the cognitive and motor components involved in these tasks. In a recent study, RT was fractionated into

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two components: premotor RT and motor RT (59). The premotor component involves the time necessary to perceive the stimulus and formulate motor action and is a measure of central processing speed. Motor RT is conceptualized as a measure of peripheral processing speed and involves the impulse propagation along motor pathways and the motor unit recruitment needed to respond. Furthermore, both simple RT (SRT) and choice RT (CRT) tasks were included. During the SRT task, subjects were instructed only to use their dominant hand and only one light stimulus was used, whereas both hands and two light stimuli were used in the CRT task. Similar to an earlier study (29), total RTs did not differ between groups on the SRT task when using the dominant hand. However, when RT was fractionated, group differences emerged. Alcohol-exposed children had slower motor RT on both the SRT and CRT tasks but exhibited significantly slower premotor RT than controls only during the CRT task. In addition, alcoholexposed children exhibited greater variability in their responding compared with control subjects, but this variability was not greater than predicted, given their lengthened RT. Thus, alcohol-exposed children demonstrated deficits on peripheral processing speed when cognitive demands were low but demonstrated deficits in both central and peripheral processing during more complex tasks. Cognitive processing speed was further characterized in relation to the effects of repeated practice. In a serial RT task, participants were asked to push the button that corresponded with a light stimulus that was illuminated (60). Previous studies have used this paradigm and found that alcohol-exposed children have a longer mean response time than control children, but that their learning profiles do not differ (58,61). Based on findings of relatively intact implicit memory of children exposed prenatally to alcohol (34) and studies with populations with damage to the striatum or cerebellum (62–64), the authors proposed that by administering a larger number of trials, deficits may emerge during the later stages of the acquisition period when the skills are believed to become automatic. Results indicated that groups did not differ significantly on accuracy. In addition, results supported earlier findings that the alcohol-exposed children did not demonstrate incremental learning after the first set of learning trials, whereas controls continued to improve their RT with practice. Motor Skills Early studies identified motor difficulties in children prenatally exposed to heavy amounts of alcohol, including tremors, weak grasp, and poor hand/eye coordination (4). The majority of studies investigating motor abilities have supported these early descriptions (24). Prospective studies have yielded mixed results in both fine and gross motor skills, which may be due to the sensitivity of the measures used and degree of exposure. A cohort of moderately alcohol-exposed children was assessed at ten years of age using the Grooved Peg Board Test, a task of fine motor skills (65). Alcohol exposure was not a significant predictor of hand-eye coordination and psychomotor speed. In addition, gross motor ability at three years of age was not affected in this same population (66). In many of these cases, exposure decreased or stopped after the first trimester of pregnancy; however, exposure during any pregnancy trimester was not associated with decreased gross motor performance in this sample. In contrast, the Seattle study has documented both gross and fine motor deficits at various points across the developmental span in its cohort (67). Additionally, there is some evidence from the study of a Finnish cohort of 70 children that motor learning is impaired more than motor precision following prenatal alcohol exposure (21).

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Motor skills have also been examined as part of larger neuropsychological evaluations in retrospective studies although as in the prospective studies, reports have been mixed. Deficits have been reported in some measures of motor functioning, including finger tapping, grip strength, and fine motor speed and precision (7,29) but not others (30). Recently, cognitive motor development of children with FAS from a community in the Western Cape Province in South Africa was examined using the Griffiths Mental Development Scales (68). Children with FAS showed significant impairments on the Eye and Hand Coordination Scale, which contains items related to fine-motor coordination, but not on the locomotor scale, which measures gross motor skills. Gross-motor functioning was also examined in two studies using more sensitive measures. Postural balance was assessed in a group of alcohol-exposed children in comparison with matched nonexposed controls under conditions of systematic variation of visual and somatosensory information (69). Alcohol-exposed children were more reliant on somatosensory input and when this input was not reliable, these children displayed significant anterior-posterior body sway and were unable to compensate by using available visual or vestibular information. These deficits may be related to cerebellar anomalies reported in children with heavy prenatal alcohol exposure. In a follow-up study, corrective postural reactions in response to rapid toe-up movements of the support surface were examined in alcohol-exposed children (70). Three latency measures were measured by an electromyograph and analyzed by computer. Both the short- and medium-latency responses are considered peripheral responses whereas the long-latency response is considered central in nature. While analyses revealed no group differences on short- and medium-latency responses, in comparison to controls, alcohol-exposed children exhibited increased long-latency responses. These results suggest that balance deficits seen in these children are, at least in part, central in nature. In general, retrospective studies have found more significant motor impairments than prospective studies. This may be due to the sensitivity of the tasks used or to exposure levels which are typically higher in retrospective studies. Executive Functioning Much research has recently focused on executive functioning, a complex construct that has been broadly defined as “those capabilities that enable a person to engage successfully in independent, purposive, self-serving behavior” (71). A variety of cognitive domains are subsumed under this general definition including inhibition, set shifting and set maintenance, planning, working memory, and the ability to integrate information across time and space (72). Such skills are associated with the frontal lobe and individuals exposed to alcohol prenatally often present with clinically significant behaviors similar to those exhibited by patients with frontal lobe lesions. Specifically, it has been noted that individuals prenatally exposed to alcohol have deficits in planning, problem-solving, and judgment skills. They also have trouble with abstraction and understanding the potential consequences of their behavior. The first retrospective study to evaluate several domains of executive functioning was conducted by Kodituwakku and colleagues (73). In this study, three domains were assessed under the rubric of self-regulatory behavior: planning, regulation of behavior, and utilization of feedback. The alcohol-exposed group performed significantly worse on a measure of planning ability than nonexposed controls. In the regulation of behavior domain, alcohol-exposed children performed equally well as controls on a delayed response task, category fluency, and the Subject-Ordered Task, while demonstrating significant impairments on letter fluency. Last, within the utilization of feedback domain,

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alcohol-exposed children displayed impaired performance on both number of categories and perseverative errors on the Wisconsin Card Sorting Test (WCST), but did not differ significantly from controls on a Go-No-Go task. The authors propose that the particular nature of these deficits may be due to the selective disruption of some of the multiple working memory circuits during development that depend on the timing of teratogenic insult. Executive functioning in children with heavy prenatal exposure to alcohol was comprehensively evaluated in two studies using the Delis-Kaplan Executive Functioning System (D-KEFS, 74). In the first study (75), four domains of executive functioning were evaluated: cognitive flexibility, response inhibition, planning, and concept formation and reasoning. Group differences emerged across all four domains even when accounting for deficits in more basic skills. In a second study, both verbal and nonverbal fluency were examined using two additional measures from the D-KEFS. When compared to nonexposed controls, alcohol-exposed children displayed deficits in both fluency domains, demonstrating impaired verbal and nonverbal fluency (76). These deficits may also be related to deficits in spatial memory, perseverative tendencies, and attention problems. Recently, Kodituwakku and colleagues have differentiated cognition-related and emotion-related executive skills (77). Cognition-related skills “involve holding, updating, and manipulation of non-emotional, complex information in working memory,” whereas emotion-related abilities “involve establishment and modification of behavioral sets based on emotionally significant information” (77). On a visual discrimination reversal task that taps emotion-related executive functioning, the alcohol-exposed group made fewer reversals and demonstrated more variability in extinction of the reward-response association than the control group. In addition, alcohol-exposed subjects made more commission and omission errors. Emotion-related executive functioning was found to be relatively independent of nonverbal intellectual ability and conceptual set shifting. Alcohol-exposed children displayed poorer performance on the WCST and displayed a greater number of perseverative errors. Thus, emotion-related and cognition-related executive functioning were demonstrated to be independent of each other, though impaired to a comparable magnitude. Parents of alcohol-exposed children in this sample also reported significantly increased executive functioning and behavioral problems in their children and these parent reports were related to test performance. One recent study examined executive functioning in a clinically diagnosed group of 30 men with FAS or FAE (78). Tasks requiring shifting and maintenance of attention, visuo-spatial skills, or working memory in the face of distraction were identified by the study authors as tests that directly tap executive function independently of general cognition (78). This FAS/E group displayed deficits on the executive function tasks that were worse than their IQ scores would have predicted, suggesting that executive function deficits can occur independently of IQ deficits and may be especially vulnerable to alcohol’s teratogenic effects. Thus, heavy prenatal alcohol exposure is consistently related to deficits in executive functioning. Low levels of exposure have also been associated with executive functioning deficits at some ages but not at others (65).

LONG-TERM CONSEQUENCES In general, as individuals with prenatal alcohol exposure age, behavioral and adaptive problems are increasingly manifested and neuropsychological deficits, including problems with attention, motor function, verbal skills, learning, and memory, continue to be

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problematic (26). Typically, older individuals with FASD do more poorly on achievement tests than their IQ scores would predict, and arithmetic scores are a particular weakness. Adaptive functioning is seemingly even more affected than cognition, including the areas of communication, daily living, and social skills. Many individuals with FASD are unable to live or work independently. Such disability takes a tremendous toll on the individual, family members, caregivers, and ultimately society (26). In addition, many individuals prenatally exposed to alcohol have additional mental health problems, are suspended or expelled from school, get in trouble with the law, show inappropriate sexual behavior, and have alcohol and drug problems. Streissguth and colleagues have termed such difficulties “secondary disabilities” as they arise after birth and could presumably be ameliorated through better understanding and appropriate interventions (79). One reason for evaluating secondary disabilities in addition to overall intellectual functioning is that individuals with FASD who have IQ scores above 70 (i.e., not defined as mentally retarded) are often unable to qualify for special services. Kerns and colleagues (80) described sixteen adults with FAS and IQ scores above 70 who performed more poorly on tests of complex attention, verbal learning, and executive function than their IQ scores would have predicted. These results indicate that non-retarded adults with FAS may suffer from compromising neuropsychological deficits, especially on tasks that require cognitive sophistication or mental processing efficiency. Anecdotal evidence suggests such difficulties are likely to impair daily functioning, even if the individual is not mentally retarded. Thus, IQ performance alone is not a sufficient indicator of special service need in the alcohol-exposed population and identification and further understanding of secondary difficulties may improve the services offered to these individuals. Some of the most notable difficulties in childhood involve academic performance. Long-term consequences of prenatal alcohol exposure were evaluated in an adolescent and adult group of 61 clinically referred individuals with FASD of predominantly Native American ethnicity (81). Only six percent of the sample was placed in a regular school classroom without need for extra help. Average achievement scores for reading, spelling, and arithmetic were at the fourth, third, and second grade levels, respectively, and there was no evidence for academic outcome improvement with age (81). A population-based longitudinal study examined the role of moderate prenatal alcohol exposure on scholastic achievement in 432 second-grade children (23). Decreased achievement test scores on the Wide Range Achievement Test (WRAT) were associated with maternal binge drinking prior to pregnancy recognition, compared to other drinking styles. In general, achievement test scores indicated that prenatal alcohol exposure was associated with compromised reading and arithmetic skills, but spelling skills were relatively preserved. In addition to achievement test scores, the association of prenatal alcohol exposure with learning problems was indicated by teacher and parent behavior ratings of academic difficulties, and remedial classroom placements (23). School performance problems, requiring additional support or resources, were also noted in a Finnish cohort of 70 prenatally exposed individuals being followed longitudinally, and the authors cite consideration of prenatal alcohol exposure as a possible factor in the etiology of learning disabilities (14). Individuals exposed to alcohol prenatally have been repeatedly shown to have academic difficulties, especially in the domain of mathematical skills. An evaluation of number processing abilities in adolescent and adult individuals with prenatal alcohol exposure revealed difficulties especially in calculation and estimation tests, with intact number reading and writing ability. However, the pattern of impairment was variable among alcohol-exposed subjects, with 10 of 29 participants exhibiting no clear impairment on the numerical task battery (82).

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Parent-Rated Behavior A number of studies have compared the behavioral functioning of children exposed prenatally to alcohol with nonexposed control children by having parents complete behavior checklists. The most frequently used behavior checklist in research with alcoholexposed children has been the CBCL and several studies have reported elevations in both summary scales and individual problem scales (30,55,83,84). One study reported higher overall CBCL scores and hyperactivity scores in comparison to nonexposed controls but not in comparison to children with attention deficits (55). Importantly, in a comparison of children with FAS and nondysmorphic FASD, no significant differences were found (84). Other parent-report checklists have been used in research with children prenatally exposed to alcohol. The Personality Inventory for Children was administered to parents of children prenatally exposed to alcohol and controls (85). The alcohol-exposed children were rated significantly higher (more difficulty) on all scales, with the exception of the Hyperactivity scale. Elevations were found to be particularly high (O2 SD) on the Intellectual Screening, Development, Psychosis, and Delinquency scales when compared to control children. The profiles of the children with FAS and nondysmorphic FASD were similar, with significant differences only present on one validity scale and the cognitive triad scales (Achievement, Intellectual Screening, and Development). This is consistent with the fact that, in general, children with FAS had lower FSIQ scores than the children who did not meet criteria for a diagnosis. The Vineland Adaptive Behavior Scales (VABS) is a parent-completed interview that assesses the adaptive functioning across three domains: communication, daily living skills, and socialization. Long-term adaptive functioning was evaluated in a group of Native American adolescents and adults with FASD (81). Although the mean chronological age was 17, the mean adaptive age was approximately seven years. Among the subscales of the VABS, subjects had most difficulty with socialization skills, performing at an average age of six years. The authors point out that poor social skills such as failure to consider consequences of one’s actions and inappropriate responsiveness to social cues may be a problem for alcohol-exposed individuals, even those who score within normal ranges on IQ tests. The most common maladaptive behaviors reported were poor concentration/attention, stubbornness, and social withdrawal. The study authors concluded that FAS presents the greatest treatment challenges in adulthood, given the widespread behavioral problems that tend to occur in this population independent of marked IQ deficits. Several retrospective studies have evaluated adaptive functioning using the VABS. Alcohol-exposed children displayed significant deficits in adaptive functioning across all three domains when compared with the normative sample (86) but were not significantly different from nonexposed controls matched by age, sex, inpatient status, and FSIQ. Both groups were functioning in the borderline range. Further analysis of the alcohol-exposed group revealed a greater age-related decline in standard scores in the socialization domain compared with the nonexposed group. A previous study documented a similar age-related decline in socialization scores for alcohol-exposed children on the VABS (87). In this study, the three sub-domains of the socialization scale were examined and children with FAS were the most impaired on the interpersonal skills sub-domain. A significant correlation was found between age and age-equivalent discrepancy socialization scores only for children in the FAS group; discrepancy scores were greatest in older children. This result suggests that social skills of children with FAS are deficient below what could be expected due to low IQ scores. Moreover, the authors point out that the salience of adaptive skill deficits may increase as children with prenatal

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alcohol exposure mature, thus suggesting that adaptive skill deficits are arrested rather than delayed in this population. In addition to behavioral and adaptive difficulties, other secondary disabilities are commonly faced by individuals with prenatal alcohol exposure. For example, an examination of attachment behavior in 4- and 5-year-old children prenatally exposed to alcohol revealed that prenatal alcohol exposure was highly related to attachment insecurity and a predictor of negative affect in the child. In addition, 80% of the alcohol-exposed children but only 36% of control were rated as insecure. However, when the mothers of the alcohol-exposed children provided high levels of support, these children evidenced better coping skills and more secure attachment relations compared to children of mothers who provided a less supportive environment (88). The same research group examined prenatal alcohol exposure and infant negative affect as precursors of depressive features in 6-year old children (89). Significant associations were found between prenatal alcohol exposure, infant negative affect at 1 year, and depressive symptoms at 6 years. Specifically higher levels of alcohol exposure were related to high levels of negative affect at 1 year and more depressive symptoms at six years of age. These effects were almost entirely driven by the girls in the sample. In addition to a direct relationship between alcohol and depression, an indirect relationship, via higher levels of emotionality in infancy, was proposed. Other studies have evaluated the psychological functioning of individuals exposed to alcohol prenatally. Psychopathology was evaluated in a group of children in Berlin, Germany via a structured psychiatric interview (90). Compared to controls, children with FAS had greater instances of outpatient therapy, eating and sleeping problems, head and body rocking, stereotyped habits, reduced vocabulary and clarity of speech, speech impairment, hearing impairments, and a visual condition known as strabismus. Children with FAS were also clumsier, hyperactive, and inattentive, had more difficulty with peer relationships, and tended to be more dependent and had problems with phobias. In a follow-up study (83) psychiatric symptoms were compared at multiple time points to evaluate the course of symptoms seen in alcohol-exposed individuals over time. Namely, hyperkinetic disorders persisted over three time points, and emotional disorders, sleep disorders, and abnormal habits and stereotypes were noted especially during school age. Other age-specific disorders such as enuresis, encopresis, and eating disorders remitted over time whereas conduct disorders remained relatively constant due to a mixed pattern of remissions and new manifestations. Adults with histories of prenatal alcohol exposure seem to be at high risk for developing psychopathology. A study of 25 adults with FASD but average IQ revealed that 23 out of the 25 subjects met criteria for an Axis I mental health disorder on the basis of the Structured Clinical Interview for DSM-IV Axis I Disorders (SCID) (91). The most common disorders were alcohol/drug dependence, depression, and psychotic disorders. Eighteen of the 25 subjects had previously sought mental health treatment, a third of which cases had necessitated inpatient care in a psychiatric hospital. Suicidality was present in six out of the twenty-five participants (92). The results were tempered by the small number of subjects studied, the need to exclude below-average IQ participants because of SCID administration criteria, the fact that many study participants had previously been identified with having “adaptational difficulties,” and the lack of a control group (91). Still the percentage of subjects in this study with mental health symptoms is staggering and suggests that clinically significant psychopathogy should be considered among the potential constellation of long-term effects of prenatal alcohol exposure. Prenatal alcohol exposure was associated with alcohol and drug problems in young adulthood by two separate studies. In a sample of 433 young adults, alcohol exposure was

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related to higher levels of drug and alcohol use in young adulthood (93). This relationship was independent of various potentially confounding factors such as sex, family history of alcohol problems, other prenatal exposures, and parental use of drugs postnatally. The study authors concluded that prenatal alcohol exposure is a risk factor for adulthood alcohol problems and should be considered as a potential factor in the etiology of alcoholism (93). In the second study (94), adult adoptees were interviewed for substance abuse disorders including nicotine, alcohol, and other drugs. Retrospective analysis of prison, hospital, and adoption agency records were used to determine prenatal alcohol exposure. Individuals prenatally exposed to alcohol reported higher dependence symptom counts than nonexposed controls even after controlling for sex, biological parent diagnosis, birth weight, gestational age, and other environmental variables. In addition to substance abuse and psychiatric disorders, individuals with FASD may be at increased risk of delinquency (92). A recent study found alcohol-exposed children to have higher rates of delinquent behaviors and probable diagnoses of Conduct Disorder than nonexposed controls (95). This study also demonstrated that alcoholexposed children perform at a lower level of moral maturity than controls, especially in their relationships with others. While overall moral maturity did not significantly predict delinquency, the moral judgment values of relations with others, stealing, and obeying the law significantly added to the model predicting delinquency beyond the effects of age and group membership. In contrast, no association between prenatal alcohol exposure and increased delinquency was found in a low socioeconomic status, predominantly AfricanAmerican adolescent sample (96). Rather, several factors were noted to relate to increased delinquent acts across subject classification: increased life stress, drug use, and decreased parental supervision. These results underscore the importance of considering environmental factors in addition to prenatal alcohol exposure.

CONCLUSIONS The purpose of this chapter was to present a review of what is known about the neuropsychological and behavioral functioning of individuals prenatally exposed to alcohol for several reasons: (1) to provide an methodologically-focused review of the literature, (2) to identify areas where further research is still needed, and (3) to identify and discuss shortcomings in research so that the study of other teratogens may benefit from this knowledge and capitalize on effective research designs and analyses. Two general methods of ascertainment, prospective and retrospective, were addressed along with the advantages and disadvantages of both. The presentation of neuropsychological and behavioral functioning was organized into three main sections: (1) general intellectual functioning, (2) specific neuropsychological abilities, and (3) long-term consequences of prenatal alcohol exposure. The specific neuropsychological domains discussed included learning and memory, visuospatial processing, attention, reaction time, fine and gross motor abilities, language skills, and executive functioning. A variety of long-term consequences were presented including academic and behavioral difficulties and additional psychological problems commonly encountered. This review should provide the reader with a good understanding of what is currently known about the teratogenic effects of alcohol on neuropsychological functioning and identify important areas of functioning that may be vulnerable to other teratogens. Inconsistencies in terminology and methods have brought confusion to the field. This is especially apparent in differences in terminology and criteria used in forming alcohol-exposed groups in research studies. As indicated in the introduction, individuals

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with histories of alcohol exposure have been classified with a variety of terms including FAS, FAE, ARND, ARBD, and PEA. The latter four classifications, which refer to nondysmorphic alcohol-exposed individuals, are not equivalent and do not all have welldefined or established criteria. In addition, different research groups will use the same term (e.g., FAE) but apply different selection criteria to define the subject group. This makes comparison of study results difficult and sometimes inaccurate. In addition, criteria for a diagnosis of FAS have varied across studies. A further problem that has made comparison across studies difficult has been the measurement and reporting of prenatal alcohol exposure levels. In addition to mitigating the inaccuracies associated with self-reports of alcohol use, there is a need for a way to categorize drinking behavior that simplifies this complex behavior but yet still accurately captures the variability, dose, and timing over the course of pregnancy. As binging behavior may be more harmful to the developing fetus than a non-binge pattern of alcohol exposure (17), failure to capture differential patterns of alcohol intake may produce measurement error with real world significance. As discussed above, it is preferable to use multiple measures of alcohol exposure, such as dose, timing, and variability, to optimally tap this complicated construct. Of course, retrospective studies may suffer from inaccurate or missing information on alcohol exposure, and for these studies classifications of “heavily exposed” based on record review or maternal report must suffice. While these studies lack the detail to examine the important variables of dose and timing, they benefit from including the more severe end of the spectrum of effect. In summary, the effects of heavy prenatal alcohol exposure are well documented. Although differences in terminology and methodology plague the field, it remains that alcohol is a known human teratogen capable of producing devastating consequences on brain development and subsequent behavioral, social, cognitive, and neuropsychological development. Over 30 years of research has resulted in a multitude of studies on these effects. However, much remains to be learned about the specificity of alcohol’s teratogenic effects and the potential for amelioration of these effects. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS The authors acknowledge the support of Edward P. Riley and the Center for Behavioral Teratology. Supported by the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism grants AA10820 and AA13525.

REFERENCES 1. Abel EL. An update on incidence of FAS: FAS is not an equal opportunity birth defect. Neurotoxicol Teratol 1995; 17:437–443. 2. Pulsifer MB. The neuropsychology of mental retardation. J Int Neuropsychol Soc 1996; 2:159–176. 3. Jones KL, Smith DW. Recognition of the fetal alcohol syndrome in early infancy. Lancet 1973; 2:999–1001. 4. Jones KL, Smith DW, Ulleland CN, Streissguth AP. Pattern of malformation in offspring of chronic alcoholic mothers. Lancet 1973; 1:1267–1271. 5. Stratton K, Howe C, Battaglia F. Fetal Alcohol Syndrome: Diagnosis, Epidemiology, Prevention, and Treatment. Washington, DC: National Academy Press, 1996. 6. Meyer LS, Riley EP. Behavioral teratology of alcohol. In: Riley EP, Vorhees CV, eds. Handbook of Behavioral Teratology. New York: Plenum Press, 1986:101–140.

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10 Neurodevelopmental Sequelae of Prenatal Cocaine Exposure Linda C. Mayes Yale Child Study Center, New Haven, Connecticut, U.S.A.

Marjukka Pajulo Department of Child Psychiatry, University of Tampere, Tampere, Finland and Yale Child Study Center, New Haven, Connecticut, U.S.A.

In-utero exposure to cocaine and its derivatives pose major perinatal health problems for a large number of infants and their mothers. Since the late 1980s when cocaine and crack use last peaked in the United States, many investigators have focused on the physical, neurodevelopmental, and neuropsychological effects of prenatal cocaine exposure on infants and young children. Although inconclusive on many crucial issues, published studies reveal the beginnings of a profile of possible cocaine-related effects on neuropsychological functions subserving arousal and attention regulation. That profile is informed by preclinical studies in which important factors such as duration and type of exposure as well as environmental conditions may be more adequately controlled. In this chapter, we review the state of knowledge regarding the neurobiological effects of prenatal cocaine exposure on the developing nervous system as elaborated through use of preclinical and clinical models. Studies in this area represent an important interface between basic studies of normal neural ontogeny and those of neuroteratology. Because cocaine is a potent central nervous system stimulant, understanding its effects on developing brain not only explicates the possible neurodevelopmental impairments resulting from intrauterine exposure to a potential neurotoxin but also sheds light on mechanisms of normal neural ontogeny. Cocaine is also a remarkably addictive drug and hence, the adults caring for children prenatally exposed are often themselves hindered in their parenting by their addiction and all the associated environmental perturbations that accompany a drug-using lifestyle. Hence, we also present a model by which the biological vulnerabilities potentially conveyed by prenatal exposure to cocaine interact with the environmental handicaps accompanying life in a substance dependent world. First we turn to the central tenets of a teratological perspective.

MODELS OF NEUROBEHAVIORAL TERATOLOGY The field of teratology in general and neurobehavioral teratology specifically is a very recent invention reflecting combinations of several different fields including 193

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pharmacology, pathology, embryology, genetics, anatomy, and cytology. Teratology is the study of birth defects, their etiology, pathophysiology, and epidemiology (1). Teratology is the study of perinatal developmental injury or abnormal development and of the factors including birth accidents and genetic mutations that increase the risk of developmental injury (2). In this broader interpretation, the field covers a vast range encompassing the impact of exposures to exogenous agents or events during specific developmental phases on physical and functional outcomes. The outcomes may range from death, physical malformation, growth abnormalities, and disruption in function in all organ systems including the central nervous system. Among the agents or events of interest are both prescribed and illicit drugs, industrial chemicals, environmental pollutants, irradiation, viral infections, traumas such as preterm birth, and psychological conditions such as increased perinatal stress or maternal depression/deprivation. An even more recent research specialty is neurobehavioral teratology, which investigates the developmental impact of exposure to similar exogenous agents or events during different critical periods on the developing brain, and hence, on the child’s psychological development (3). The impact of individual exposures is assessed at varying distances in time from the original fetal exposure and varying levels of analyses (e.g., behavioral, neuropsychological, neurochemical, neuropathological). Behavioral teratology traces its origins not only to studies of CNS birth defects but also to preclinical animal models on the effects of early experiential differences in, for example, handling on behavior (3). As a field, behavioral teratology adds developmental psychology and developmental neuroscience to the multidisciplinary mixture of fields studying birth defects and developmental injuries. Some of the earliest questions in this field were about the effects of maternal malnutrition and of irradiation on fetal and infant neurodevelopmental outcome (4), and the most contemporary questions are about the impact of maternal stress and anxiety on long-term infant and child neurodevelopment (5,6). Questions regarding the impact of exposures to exogenous agents or events during specific developmental phases are implicit in nearly every consideration of a developmental or psychiatric disorder or the manifestations of that disorder across development. Interest in developmental injury from a neurodevelopmental/neurobehavioral point of view has provided a significant incentive to understanding the normal or expectable features of early perceptual, social-emotional, and cognitive processes and how to measure more accurately and specifically these developmental domains. One of the major thrusts of studies of physically defined perinatal risks such as prematurity has been to compare normal and abnormal psychological development, predict later outcome, and design interventions to alter the predicted developmental trajectory (7). These kinds of comparative studies are also common in studies of perinatal exposures to licit and illicit drugs or to environmental toxins: there is less of an emphasis on understanding mechanisms of developmental injury than on describing differential outcome. Questions regarding developmental injury related to prenatal exposures may be approached from two broad perspectives. One perspective examines a question by its presumed causes, that is, by grouping subjects into those with and without the presumed cause of injury such as exposure to a specific drug that produces mutagenesis or other somatic injury or malformation (e.g., alcohol). Another perspective focuses on questions of development injury not through the putative cause but rather through the target organ, system, or function of injury. Hence, subjects of study are grouped by their functional impairment and the programmatic focus is to understand the various mechanisms and routes to that particular functional impairment. These two orientations may lead to different research questions, findings, and interpretations inasmuch as one focuses on

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outcome while the other emphasizes mechanism. The most productive approach to any investigation of developmental injury brings a combination of these two perspectives and a plurality of methods to the research questions. Studies of prenatal cocaine exposure to date are accomplished largely through the first perspective using longitudinal, prospective designs of exposed and non-exposed cohorts. However, as the potential possible mechanisms of effect of prenatal cocaine exposure are better elucidated, it is clear that the second perspective also has some merit and applicability to the problem especially as we will illustrate below with examples from studies of dopaminergic system function. In either perspective, the fundamental logic of questions from behavioral teratology is does exposure to X during a specific phase of development cause A, B, C and/or D immediately or later in development. (Or in the language of mechanism, does disruption in process X during a specific phase of development lead to disruptions in functions A, B, C, and/or D later in development.) Importantly, one agent, Y, may produce several different outcomes depending on dose or amount of exposure and there may be different doseresponse curves for the different outcomes. The shape of the dose-response curves may also be different depending on the outcome of interest. That is, one outcome may reflect a linear relationship with exposure—more impairment with more exposure, while another outcome may reflect a threshold effect. Only exposures above a certain amount or time are teratogenic. Perhaps most importantly for studies of neurocognitive development is the observation that functional behavioral or neuropsychological changes usually occur at lower doses than abnormal growth or major disruptions in organogenesis (8). This latter point is key to understanding why assurances regarding no association with birth defects or physical malformations are not sufficient to assuage concerns regarding effects on neurobehavioral development, outcomes that are usually of equal if not greater interest to child psychiatrists and developmentalists. There are several classic examples of direct causative links between prenatal exposures and functional/physical outcomes. These include prenatal rubella exposure and its association with deafness and mental retardation or the classic example of prenatal thalidomide exposure and severe malformations of limb development. In these models, there is a clear association between a specific exposure to a discrete toxin and a clearly defined and easily identified endpoint or outcome. However, many, if not most, of the more contemporary questions capturing the interest of clinical scholars are those that involve far more complex models of exposure, timing, and outcome assessment. These are not always clearly direct causality models and hence are not easily approached with standard research designs. The exposures are neither specific nor discrete, the outcomes are not uniformly present even with documented exposure, and the severity or extent of the deformation or developmental abnormality is variable. In these more complex models, interactions between the exposure agent or event and the environment are central. That is, does the environment in one way or another moderate the fetus’s or child’s risk of exposure as well as vulnerability to the potentially toxic effects of exposure and at the same time, determine other risk factors that may also mediate the severity of any exposure related outcome. For example, even the question of malnutrition and its effect on fetal outcome is not a straightforward question of exposure and effect. Malnutrition more often occurs among very poor or displaced populations who are usually considerably stressed and isolated from adequate medical and prenatal care. These conditions may further compound the impact of malnutrition on fetal development in a way that would not occur theoretically if malnutrition occurred in isolation or in the absence of social displacement and chronic stress. Similarly, a more contemporary question regarding the effects of maternal anti-depressants on infant neurodevelopmental integrity is also made more complex by the possible relations between maternal depression, heightened perinatal stress, and altered maternal-infant care. Exposure

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to drugs of abuse is one of the clearest examples of an interactive exposure model. While cocaine may be associated with direct toxic effects on aspects of neural development, how these effects are expressed functionally across development depends on many other intervening and mediating conditions. Within these broad tenets of a teratological perspective, there are at least ten basic principles that guide studies seeking to causally link a putative exposure to a given set of outcomes (9–11). These principles, also outlined in Table 1, include: (1) Delineating the possible mechanisms of teratogenic effect; (2) Defining the specific teratogenic agent; (3) Specifying the timing of the exposure; (4) Defining the nature of the exposure; (5) Delineating the range of susceptibility and response relationships; (6) Selecting those groups at greater or lesser risk for exposure; (7) Considering the environmental context and conditions most related to the exposure; (8) Defining the outcomes most likely related to the mechanism of action of the exposure agent or event; (9) Considering when exposure related outcomes are most likely to be apparent; and (10) Taking into account those Table 1

Principles of Behavioral Teratology

Delineating the possible mechanisms of teratogenic effect: Agents that are behaviorally teratogenic should act on the developing CNS by specific mechanisms Defining the specific teratogenic agent: Not all agents that produce malformations are necessarily behavioral teratogens. Only those agents that produce either teratogenic or psychoactive CNS effects are capable of producing behavioral teratogenic effects Specifying the timing of the exposure: Based on the principle of critical periods, the type and magnitude of the behavioral teratogenic effect will depend on the stage of CNS development when exposure occurs Defining the nature of the exposure: The type and magnitude of the behavioral teratogenic effect depends on the type of agent, frequency and amount of use, and route of administration Delineating dose response relationships and the range of susceptibility: The type and severity of the behavioral effects depends on the dose of the agent reaching the developing central nervous system. Behavioral teratogenic effects are usually demonstrable at levels of exposure below that causing other malformations if the exposure agent is capable of causing behavioral changes Selecting those groups at greater or lesser risk for exposure and susceptibility to effects: How exposed groups are identified influences the likelihood of finding greater or lesser behavioral teratogenic effects. Individual genetic differences in the exposed individual or organism also influence the type and magnitude of behavioral teratogenic effect Considering the environmental context and conditions most related to the exposure: The magnitude and type of a behavioral teratogenic effect (and the likelihood of finding such an effect) depends on environmental factors Defining the outcomes most likely related to the mechanism of action of the exposure agent or event: Behavioral teratogenic effects are expressed as impaired cognitive, perceptual, or social emotional function or delayed maturation of capacities in these domains and the chosen outcomes for study should be linked to the proposed mechanism of CNS teratogenesis rather than selecting “broad band” measures of CNS function Considering when exposure related outcomes are most likely to be apparent: Not all behavioral teratogenic effects are apparent in the perinatal period. Some are evident later in development when environmental demands on specific functional domains are higher or when periods of developmentally time CNS reorganization are occurring Taking into account those conditions that ameliorate or exacerbate any exposure related functional outcomes: Some behavioral teratogenic effects may be exacerbated or ameliorated by other exposures or environmental conditions such as how the organism is handled or parented or other unexpected events such as illnesses that occur after the exposure period Source: Mayes and Ward, 2003; Vorhees, 1989; Vorhees, 1986b.

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conditions that ameliorate or exacerbate any exposure related functional outcomes. Importantly, these principles cut across animal and human models. Indeed, principles of behavioral teratology developed in animal models should also apply to studies of humans (8) although the methodological challenges may be more complex in the human model. The problem of prenatal cocaine exposure in particular illustrates the principles of defining the independent variable (Table 1, principle 4), delineating dose-response relations (principle 5), defining cohorts based on risk of exposure (principle 6), and specifying the environmental context and conditions most related to the exposure (principle 7). Linking putative outcome to proposed mechanisms of effect is perhaps the most important of these principles. While it may seem obvious that it is important to consider the possible mechanisms of teratogenic effects of any given agent, it is not always the case particularly in studies of the human model that mechanisms of effect are either specified or hypothesized beyond the general expectation or assumption that, for example, psychoactive drugs administered during active CNS neurogenesis should be potentially teratogenic. This assumption not only ignores consideration of specificity of effect on particular CNS regions and functions but also does not permit a more hypothesis driven consideration of the possible domains of outcome to study. Often these possible mechanisms of action are defined not through investigations of the specific agent but rather through studies of other agents with similar mechanisms of action in the brain. For example, the potential effects of cocaine on developing monoaminergic systems in the fetal brain have been delineated through in vitro and in vivo studies of monoaminergic regulation of neurogenesis, neuronal migration, and synaptogenesis as well as through direct study of disruptions in fetal brain structure-function relations with cocaine exposure. Furthermore, the environmental context related to the exposure may have profound impact on how and when the outcomes of exposure are expressed postnatally. Studies of prenatal cocaine exposure in human models that are informed by preclinical investigations are paradigmatic of contemporary neurobehavioral teratology perspectives which take into account both the biological mechanisms related to the exposure and the environmental conditions in which that exposure occurs and the child develops.

PRENATAL COCAINE EXPOSURE Magnitude of the Problem Systematic information about illicit drug use, and specifically cocaine use, across the country has been available since 1971 through the National Household Survey on Drug Abuse (NHSDA), now the National Survey on Drug Use and Health (NSDUH). This survey is the primary source of information on the use of illicit drugs, alcohol, and tobacco by the civilian, noninstitutionalized population of the United States aged 12 years old or older and interviews approximately 67,500 persons each year (12). In 2002 in the NHSDA, an estimated 19.5 million Americans aged 12 or older were current illicit drug users, meaning they had used an illicit drug during the month prior to the survey interview. This estimate represents 8.3% of the population aged 12 years old or older. Of these, an estimated 2.0 million persons (0.9% of total U.S. population) were current cocaine users (reporting use in the previous month), 567,000 of whom used crack during the same time period (0.2% of total U.S. population). This is a slight increase from the 1997 estimate of 1.5 million Americans who were current cocaine users, an estimate that had not changed significantly since 1992, but remains less than the 1985 peak of 5.7 million cocaine users (3% of the population in 1985). Compared to any other age group, adults 18 to 25 years old had a higher rate of illicit drug use (20.2% of the total population) and a higher rate of

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current cocaine use (2.0% of the total population and 15.4% of the total number reporting illicit drug use). Overall, among those in the 18 to 25 years old group reporting drug use, men had a higher rate of current cocaine use than do women (18.1 vs. 12.7%). More dramatically, among the 18 to 25 years old age group, 6.7% of the total population reported use in the last year and 15.4% report some use of cocaine over their lifetime. The average age of first cocaine use in 2001 was 20.8 years, a peak childbearing age. In 1992, the first national study of drug-use during pregnancy found that more than 5% of the 4 million women who gave birth in the United States in 1992 used illegal drugs while they were pregnant (13). Marijuana and cocaine were the most frequently used illicit drugs—2.9%, or 119,000 women, used marijuana and another 1.1%, or 45,000 women, used cocaine at some time during their pregnancy. The survey found a high incidence of cigarette and alcohol use among pregnant women. At some point during their pregnancy, 20.4% of pregnant women smoked cigarettes and 18.8% drank alcohol. There was also a strong link between cigarette smoking and alcohol use and the use of illicit drugs in this population. Among those women who used both cigarettes and alcohol, 20.4% also used marijuana and 9.5% took cocaine. Ethnic differences in patterns of drug use were also apparent in the survey, that is, about 4.5% of African–American women used cocaine compared with 0.4% of white women and 0.7% of Hispanic women who did so. In 2002, 6.6% of pregnant women aged 18 to 25 years (compared to 17% of nonpregnant women in the same age group) used illicit drugs in the past month (12). Across the child bearing years (ages 15 to 44 years), 3.3% of pregnant women reported illicit drug use in the previous month and 0.9% reported cocaine use. Of those women reporting any illicit drug use, 9.1% reported crack/cocaine use in the last month. The peak period for crack– cocaine use during pregnancy was between 1985 and 1990. In 1989, the Select Committee on Children, Youth, and Families conducted a survey of hospitals in which fifteen of the eighteen hospitals surveyed reported a three- to four-fold increase in drug-exposed births since 1985 (14). It was estimated in these peak years, that approximately 375,000 children each year were born exposed to cocaine (15). Since the peak period for crack–cocaine use in 1985, the rates of cocaine use among pregnant women in the general population has declined though it has remained relatively steady in the last few years. Nonetheless, in the years of peak use between 1985 and 1990, a number of the cohorts of prenatally cocaine-exposed children currently reaching early adolescence were recruited. However, despite declining prevalence rates in the use of illicit drugs during pregnancy, of all the illicit street drugs, crack-cocaine continues to be widely available and in some areas, powdered cocaine may actually be less expensive than in previous years, a factor that surely contributes to the continued use among many cocainedependent individuals (16). In some regions of the country such as Atlanta, Washington, DC, and New Orleans, cocaine-crack related admissions to hospitals are as high as 68 to 40%. Among women arrestees in New York, for example, 58% test positive for cocaine. Indeed, of the 21,276 cocaine-related arrests in New York City from January to October 2001, 83% involved crack. Furthermore, among women entering substance abuse treatment units, the rates of cocaine and crack addiction remain significantly high (16). Data from the Treatment Episode Data Set (TEDS) indicate that in 2000, more than a decade after the introduction of crack cocaine, smoked cocaine was the primary substance of abuse for 14% of all adult women admitted to substance abuse treatment (17). Indeed, in 2000, cocaine (including both smoked and other routes of administration) was the third most common illicit drug responsible for admissions to substance abuse treatment facilities. In 2000, the average adult woman entering treatment for primary use of smoked cocaine was 35 years old. The average length of smoked cocaine use was

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12 years prior to admission. Adult women entering treatment for smoked cocaine abuse were disproportionately black (58%, compared with 25% of all women entering treatment). About one-third (32%) of adult women enter entering treatment for smoked cocaine abuse were white, and 5% were hispanic. The proportion of women 35 years or older entering treatment for primary use of smoked cocaine more than doubled over time, from 20% in 1992 to 52% in 2000 (17). These data indicate that despite the reduction in overall crack–cocaine use among pregnant women by 2002, there remains a significant problem among substance dependent women of child-bearing and child-rearing age such that a considerable number of children who may have been also prenatally exposed continue to live in substance using environments.

Studies of Prenatal Cocaine Exposure Mechanisms of Effect In developing brain, there are a number of candidate mechanisms that account for how prenatal cocaine exposure may interfere with neural ontogeny. These are effects on monoaminergic system development, changes in neural growth factors, alteration of ion channel and monoamine transport development, effects on other neurotransmitter systems such as the cholinergic system and on neuropeptides including substance P, dynorphin, GABA and glutamate sites, or alteration of immediate early gene expression (18–20). Cocaine also has potent vasoconstrictive effects that may have a more generalized and less system-specific hypoxia-related deleterious effect on neural growth. The effect on central and peripheral noradrenergic systems accounts for the cardiovascular effects of cocaine including tachycardia, hypertension, and increased risks for strokes and myocardial infarctions and arrhythmias. Thus, in-utero cocaine exposure may compromise fetal brain development through an effect on placental vascular function with decreased placental blood flow and consequent fetal hypoxemia and possibly ischemic injury. Similarly, cocaine-related noradrenergic effects on developing fetal vasculature may also compromise blood-flow to developing brain (21,22). This more general level of effect through fetal hypoxemia or relative ischemia may not be as specifically directed to one region of the brain over another and the severity of effect, if any, will depend particularly on the timing of the exposure and the level of relative hypoxemia. Another group of mechanisms of in-utero cocaine effect on neurodevelopmental outcome is also more general but unique to the human model. Substance abusing adults rarely use cocaine in isolation. Most often, cocaine abuse is combined with other potential neuroteratogens including alcohol, marijuana, and tobacco. While there are no studies modeling various combinations of polydrug exposure in animals, it is reasonable to hypothesize that interactions among different drugs may both produce potentially neurotoxic metabolites as well as directly additive effects on neural development. Related to human substance abuse are other more general health and environmental factors that have effects on fetal health and development. These include poor maternal nutrition (in part reflecting the appetite suppression effect of cocaine) and more often than not, maternal poverty and environmental chaos that may contribute to postnatal neglect and poor parenting, factors that are themselves developmentally compromising. These levels of effect unique to humans cannot be adequately modeled in animals but do confound efforts to attribute any neurobehavioral impairments found in prenatally cocaine-exposed infants and young children to cocaine alone. The methodologic dilemmas in human studies of prenatal cocaine-exposure are reviewed in detail elsewhere outcomes (20,23–32).

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Here we focus primarily on the effects of prenatal cocaine exposure on monoaminergic system function and ontogeny [including the catechoamines dopamine (DA) and norepinephrine (NE) and the indoleamine, serotonin] though several of the aforementioned candidate mechanisms may also be influential in the neurobehavioral profiles of altered arousal and attention regulation. Although inconsistent, inconclusive, even contradictory on many crucial issues, and marked by a number of methodological problems, collected findings from published studies to date suggest a profile of possible cocaine-related effects on arousal and attention regulation and reactivity to stressful conditions. Also implicated are aspects of neurocognitive performance reflecting prefrontal cortical functioning including capacity for sustained focus, inhibiting nonsalient responding, and working memory (27,33–44). This profile is further elaborated by findings from several preclinical models in which important factors such as duration, route, and amount of exposure as well as environmental conditions may be more adequately controlled (45–48). In particular, recent preclinical studies of prenatal and preweaning cocaine-exposure in the rat point to direct and enduring effects on monaminergic mediated circuitry that is important in arousal regulation of attentional and prefrontal cortical executive systems (20,49–55). Importantly, the non-specific but frequent mixture of acute and chronic stress characterizing the postnatal caregiving environments for many prenatally-exposed children may also have enduring effects on attention and arousal system ontogeny perhaps through some of the same monoaminerelated mechanisms. Cocaine and the Monamine System In the mature brain, cocaine/crack act at the level of the synapse to block reuptake of monoaminergic neurotransmitters (DA, NE, and serotonin) at the presynaptic junction. Presynaptically, cocaine is more efficacious in blocking the reuptake of serotonin (5-HT) as compared to the catechoamines DA and NE (56). The mechanism by which cocaine blocks monoamine reuptake involves blocking the action of the presynaptic transporter protein that takes neurotransmitter back into the presynaptic neuron. In the short term, blocking reuptake effectively leaves a greater concentration of monoamines in the synaptic cleft and thus the potential for increased synaptic activity and increased neurotransmitter turnover. In addition, stimulants such as cocaine also accelerate presynaptic release of catecholamines (DA and NE) (57). The DA system is particularly central to the effects of cocaine on both adult and developing brain. DA neurons have long been associated with the initiation of behavior, reward, and motivational processes (58). Two major dopaminergic circuits are involved in the action of stimulants. The nigrostriatal DA system originates in the substantia nigra and projects to the caudate nucleus and putamen (dorsal striatum). The degeneration of this system is implicated in Parkinson’s disease and is also important for the focused repetitive behaviors associated with high doses of stimulants (58,59). These pathways are also associated with the planning, initiation, and coordination of voluntary movement and complex behavioral repertoires (60). The mesolimbic DA system projects from the ventral tegmental area of the midbrain to the limbic forebrain (including the nucleus accumbens, olfactory tubercle, amygdala, and frontal cortex). This second dopaminergic system has been most implicated in activation and locomotor behavior (61) and stimulant induced locomotion (58). The regions involved in the mesolimbic system, especially the amygdala and the prefrontal cortex projections from the amygdala, are also important in the regulation of stress response and emotional reactivity. The mesolimbic dopaminergic circuits are probably critical for the stimulant-induced euphoria and for the reinforcing

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(addictive) properties of drugs (62–64). The nucleus accumbens (ventral striatum) within the mesolimbic system seems particularly important for the reinforcing properties of stimulants because animals will self-administer large amounts of cocaine to this particular region even to the point of seizures and death (65). DA acts at specific DA receptor sites and there are at least five DA receptor types that cluster into D1-like (D1 and D5) and D2-like (D2, D3, and D4) subfamilies (66). D1 and D2 receptors are the most extensively studied. Dopaminergic neurons from the dorsal and ventral striatum have efferent neurons to the substantia nigra (the striatonigral system) and to the thalamus by way of the globus pallidus (the striatopallidal system). Each of these systems differs in DA receptor subtypes and in neuropeptide receptors. The striatonigral system has predominantly D1 receptors and the neuropeptides dynorphin and substance P while the striatopallidal system has D2 receptors and the neuropeptide enkaphalin. These two DA systems may function differently in response to cocaine exposure in developing brain (see below). The serotonin system originating from the raphe nuclei of the brainstem project widely to the cortex, and to memory and emotion regulation areas such as hippocampus, thalamus, and amygdala. Just as with DA, the effects of cocaine on serotonin systems appear to be through the inhibition of reuptake processes and increased release (56). There are at least four classes of serotonin receptors in the brain (5-HT1–4) with subtypes of 5HT1. Most studies of the action of cocaine have investigated effects on 5-HT1a and 5-HT2, the former present in high density throughout the hippocampus, amygdala, hypothalamus, and cortex while the latter is more concentrated in the cortex. The NE system is crucial to the regulation of behavioral state, sensory processing, aspects of memory, and attention regulation (67). The noradrenergic system has projections throughout the limbic and corticothalamic system with wide distribution of a and b-adrenergic receptors. Earlier work had suggested that the NE system was important for the reinforcing effects of cocaine and related drugs but subsequent studies have suggested DA as the more critical catecholamine for that role (57,64). The noradrenergic pathways may be most critical for the non-specific activating effects of cocaine and the peripheral effects on overall vascular tone and cardiac function (68).

Preclinical Models of Prenatal Cocaine Exposure Cortical Morphology Growing evidence is available for cocaine-related effects on the earliest phases of cell proliferation and neuronal migration—and thus, on cortical morphology. At the stage on neuronal formation and proliferation in cultured preparations of glioblastoma and neocortical cells, cocaine exposure delays uridine and thymidine incorporation (69). Similarly, in cultured preparations, differentiation of neuroblastoma cells by nerve growth factor (NGF) and cell proliferation stimulated by insulinlike growth factor (IGF-I) are both delayed by cocaine. Prenatal exposure in the intact pregnancy with rats early in gestation interferes with radial gliogenesis and thus disrupts neuronal migration and resulting cortical architecture (70–73). In rhesus monkeys, intermittent prenatal cocaine exposure results in cerebral cortices with highly abnormal structural characteristics including disrupted cortical laminar architecture with an increased number of cells in the underlying white matter consistent with markedly impaired neuronal migration (74–77). Many cortical cells do not reach their proper destination and there is a decrease in the density of cortical glial (connective) elements. Mice embryos exposed to cocaine very early in gestation also show a decrease in glial formation, glial density, and a disorganization of

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axon/dendrite bundles (73). Findings such as these may reflect disrupted monoaminergic system regulated processes that control the genesis of radial glial cells necessary for proper neuronal migration to cortical layers and regulate the formation of connections among neurons (74,75,78,79). In addition to the effects of cocaine on monoaminergic regulated glial cell formation and maturation, cocaine may have a direct toxic effect of early stages of neuronal proliferation and also early connectivity as suggested by cell culture preparations of both glia and neurons. With cocaine exposure to growing neurons in culture, there is a decrease in the number of neurons and a degeneration of the connective processes through which communication with other neurons occurs. There is no apparent reduction in glial cell numbers but there is also a change in structure suggesting again a cocaine-related effect on the morphology of cells involved in neural connectivity. Closer examination of cocaineexposed neurons show morphologic changes in nuclei indicative of apoptosis or neuronal death after approximately 2 days of exposure, suggesting that cocaine exposure initiates apoptotic processes within the neuron by yet undefined mechanisms. One possibility may be through monoamines since in neuronal cell cultures, exposure to catecholamines can lead to neuronal death through action as a glutamate agonist (80). Prenatal cocaine exposure is also associated with abnormally elongated dendrites in corticolimbic pyramidal neurons of cocaine-exposed animals. Dendrites of pyramidal neurons in layers III and V of anterior cingulate cortex are 30 to 50% longer in exposed compared to non-exposed, saline-treated animals (81–83). Confocal analysis shows that these dendrites course abnormally through the cortex. Rather than the expected straight distribution, the dendrites course in and out of the plane of a section. Since the exposed animals show normal lamination and thickness of cortical layers in the anterior cingulated. The trajectory pattern of the dendrites suggest less-controlled growth with the extended dendritic projections undulating to fit within the limits of the cortical layers. These morphologic changes persist into adulthood. Similar observations are made in the prefrontal cortex, another cortical region targeted by dense dopaminergic afferents but these changes in dendritic growth are not found in regions that receive sparse dopaminergic input such as the primary sensory cortex (81–83). These effects on dendritic growth appear rapidly. In vitro studies show that after only two weeks of exposure to cocaine, fetal neurons from the anterior cingulate plated in culture without further cocaine exposure show marked increased in dendritic growth, a finding suggesting that the cocaine-related effect on growth is not simply a direct exposure effect but rather through an alteration in growth-regulating mechanisms. Direct Effects on Monoamine Function Findings from preclinical rodent models point to specific effects on DA D1/D2 mediated circuitry critical to arousal regulation of the prefrontal cortex (84) and to upregulation of NE (and serotonergic) systems at a time in early development that could permanently distort the excitatory/inhibitory balance between arousal systems necessary for optimal cortical function. Dopamine. Adult rats exposed prenatally to cocaine show a reduction in basal DA release and decreased activity in dopaminergic cells in the substantia nigra and ventral tegmentum (52). Reductions in glucose metabolic activity are particularly marked in prenatally exposed male rats in the hypothalamus, nigrostriatal pathway, and structures within the limbic system (85). Prenatally exposed rabbits show reduced striatal DA levels at birth (54) and rhesus at 60 days prenatally show reduced tyrosine hydroxylase mRNA (86) in the substantia nigra and ventral tegmental area.

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A reduction in DA synthesis may lead to increased receptor sensitivity and proliferation which is the case in both the prenatally exposed rhesus and rat (87–89). Other studies examining receptor sensitivity and density following prenatal exposure have examined postnatal brains following early or late exposure and have reported conflicting results with either a decrease, no change, or an increase in the expression of D1 and D2 receptors and ligand binding to those receptors (53,88,90–92). These conflicting results may reflect compensatory changes in DA neural transmission following withdrawal from cocaine or cessation of exposure, a suggestion that has been confirmed in adult animals (93). When cocaine is administered postnatally to rat pups in either the first or second week postnatally (equivalent to later gestation in the human and during a period of rapid synaptogenesis), there is widespread increase in glucose metabolic activity across several different regions of the brain including cortex (89) but with particular increases in highly dopaminergic innervated regions. These effects are most dramatic in the female. For the male, there are no substantial areas of increased metabolism and the nucleus accumbens continues to show decreased activity as was true prenatally. When ligands specific for DA D1 and D2 receptors are injected into postnatally treated animals, areas showing marked increase in glucose uptake are those with greater dopaminergic activity (94). Earlier postnatal exposure (days 1 to 10) affects the mesolimbic DA system and other structures within the limbic system differentially more than later postnatal exposure (days 11 to 20) which results in more general activation (95). Such general activation consistent with the relation between monoamines and synaptic formation suggests that exposure to a monoaminergic agonist such as cocaine during these periods of cortical maturation results in an overall increase in monoaminergic (and specifically dopaminergic) activity. More specific studies of receptor functioning have shown that prenatal cocaine exposure is associated with a functional decoupling of the D1 receptor from G protein, the second messenger within the cell that begins a cascade of intracelluar events. Prenatal cocaine exposure impairs coupling in the frontal and cingulate areas of the dopaminergic D1 receptor system to one of the second messengers, GaS protein, a functional decrease that persists into adulthood while coupling between D2 and Gi protein remains normal (50,53,92). This decoupling of D1 to GaS protein may be secondary to increased phosphorylation of the receptor that in turn renders the receptor desensitized to G-protein (96). Also, mRNA for the DA transporter is reduced in these same regions following both prenatal and postnatal exposure (49,91). Taken as a group these findings suggest a selective or at least a more specific attenuating effect of cocaine on the development of the D1 system. In the normal individual, D1 and D2 receptor systems function interactively and in some ways reciprocally to regulate thalamic and cortical inputs. In particular, a reciprocal relation between D1 and D2 activity coupled also with a balance between noradrenergic a2 and a1 activity regulates and protects prefrontal cortical activity during increasing arousal or stressful states (97–99). Increased D2 (and a1) (100) activity may in effect take certain prefrontal cortical activities off-line and in effect interfere with aspects of attention and other higher order reasoning and discriminative abilities (functions that typically also deteriorate in hyperaroused states—see above). An increase in D2 activity might be expected to parallel attenuation in D1 systems; and indeed, prenatal cocaine exposure does appear associated with an increase in D2 binding affinity, receptor density, and mRNA for the D2 receptor in the striatum (91,101,102). Postnatal exposure (days 1–9) also results in an increased density of D2 in striatum (51). Additionally, challenges to the D2 system using a D2 antagonist, haloperidol, result in an exaggerated response in postnatally exposed male rats (103).

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Serotonin In relation to serotonin, in the developing brain cocaine appears to have greater affinity for the serotonin transporter in contrast to the adult brain in which cocaine binds predominantly to DA transporters (104). Effects such as these have led several to suggest that in the developing brain, the relationship between cocaine and serotonin systems may be more important to understanding mechanisms for teratogenic effects while in mature, and perhaps in postnatal brain, DA systems may be more critical (90). While less work has been done to date on serotonin systems and cocaine exposure, the findings are nonetheless consistent with hypotheses based on serotonin as an early trophic factor and cocainerelated effects on serotonin metabolism. During development, serotonin neurons use a negative feedback mechanism for regulating growth. Both tissue culture and whole animal studies show that early in development, increased extracellular serotonin causes a decrease in serotonin neuronal outgrowth. It has been demonstrated that early on cocaine inhibits the development of reuptake mechanisms (105). Thus, based on cocaine’s effect on synaptic reuptake, more serotonin should be present extracellularly in the synaptic cleft and thus reduce the growth of serotonin terminals (106). These predictions have been supported. Studies of prenatally exposed rats have revealed a decrease in the serotonin terminal density and an accompanying reduction in the normal growth of serotonin fibers in the hippocampus. The effect is transient, however, and by a month postnatally no differences between exposed and non-exposed animals are apparent (107). On the other hand, by a month postnatally, late-onset increased growth of serotonin fibers is observed in the striatum (108). It may be that if growth is inhibited or delayed in one region, it is increased elsewhere (106). But what about the return to normal by a month postnatally of serotonin fiber density in cortex and hippocampus? Rather than suggesting transient to no effect of cocaine, even early, brief disruption of one aspect of serotonin system ontogeny may disrupt other areas of the serotonin system development. Delayed serotonin terminal development may lead to decreased serotonin levels in later phases even after exposure has stopped. Decreased serotonin levels in the later prenatal and early postnatal period may have marked consequences for neuronal connectivity. For example, depletion of serotonin by selective synthesis inhibitors results in delayed neuronal differentiation and decreased synaptic connectivity in both cortex and hippocampus in the chick model (109). In rats, depletion of serotonin on the third postnatal day by a selective neurotoxin results in decreased density of granule cells dendritic spines or decreased connectivity which actually continues to worsen as the animals mature (110). Depletion at postnatal day 10 to 20 causes marked loss in dendrites up with reductions still apparent up to a year of age (111). Moreover, delaying serotonin terminal development has been associated with behavioral deficits in the adult animal (112). In other words, by altering serotonin terminal development, prenatal exposure alters events weeks downstream from the exposure. In the first weeks postnatally in the rat, serotonin is required for astroglial maturation, and in the second to third postnatal week, serotonin plays a critical role in neuronal maturation and synaptogenesis (113). Postnatal synaptogenesis and neuronal connectivity depend on the maturation of a number of cell types including astroglial cells. Astroglial cells that play a role early in gestation as the radial glial cells for neuronal migration are also crucial for later connectivity and the production of neural growth factors. Serotonin has a regulatory role in the maturation of the astroglial cell (114,115); and the rapid increase of serotonin 1A receptors (5-HT1A) early in gestation in mammalian brain is largely through serotonin receptors on astroglial cells (116). One aspect of that

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maturation is a morphologic change from the long processes needed for guiding neuronal migration to shorter but more processes with greater connectivity among cells. A second aspect of serotonin-mediated astroglial maturation is the release of growth factor S100b (117). This particular growth factor causes neuronal outgrowth and neuronal plasticity in response to experience (such as activity, handling, enriched stimulation environments) (115,118). Thus, S-100b may be one factor involved in potentiation of learning and experience-dependent synaptogenesis. Depletion or decrease in S-100b release from astroglial cells should result in decreased dendritic development and delayed neural outgrowth. Thus, prenatal cocaine exposure may interfere with astroglial cell maturation and in the release of S-100b. Prenatally exposed rat pups examined on postnatal day 6 show a delay in the morphologic change in astroglial cells from their radial glial function to more mature cells (119). There are also fewer astroglial cells in the cortex and hippocampal regions with overall cortical thinning. (Similar reductions in cortical astroglial cells have also been reported for the rhesus model at 2 months postnatal age (74).) Immunochemical staining for S100b revealed significant reductions (71,119). It is possible then that even if serotonin levels returned to normal in the subsequent postnatal period, the reduction of S100b during that critical period may have more enduring effects. Conversely, treatment of prenatally exposed rat pups with 5-HT1a agonists on postnatal days 1 through 5 showed increases in S100b in both cortex and hippocampus and a significant increase in brain growth (71). Prenatal cocaine exposure associated delay in serotonin terminal growth, delay in astroglial maturation and release of S-100b may lead to loss of synapses in the adult animal and thus to deficits in learning and memory (106). In contrast to prenatal exposure, postnatal or preweaning exposure appears to increase serotonin levels. Postnatal exposure to serotonin agonists in the rat from birth to postnatal day 20 increases brain activity during active synaptogenesis leading to accelerated brain maturation with attendant behavioral changes including increased activity [and behavioral changes in the mature animal including increased anxiety and activity, (106,120)]. In addition, preweaning administration cocaine decreases 5-HT1a receptor density in the raphe nuclei (121,122) where the action of the 5-HT1a is inhibitory. Thus, decrease in receptor density is in effect an increase in afferent or ascending serotonergic activity (123). No models to date have combined prenatal and preweaning exposure. Serotonin neurons innervating the forebrain region also send projections to the hypothalamus and mediate changes in plasma ACTH, corticosterone, renin, and prolactin (124). Disruptions in serotonin system ontogeny in both receptor distribution and density of serotonin projections may also alter hypothalamic response to neuroendocrine challenge tests. Adult rats treated prenatally between day 13 and day 20 of gestation and studied at postnatal day 30 show increased ACTH and renin response to a serotonin receptor (5-HT1A) agonist (125,126). In contrast, ACTH and renin response is attenuated to a serotonin releaser acting at the presynapse. These changes in response to neuroendocrine challenge are not paralleled by changes in 5-HT1A receptor density in hypothalamus or midbrain or by any alteration in serotonin uptake sites at the presynapse or in levels of serotonin. However, by postnatal day 70, 5-HT1A receptor density is increased in cortex and midbrain but not hypothalamus (127), findings that speak to ongoing alterations in monoamine related systems after exposure has ceased and the alteration of effects downstream after early changes in system function. Furthermore, findings such as these also suggest that certain alterations in monoaminergic system function related to prenatal cocaine exposure may be only apparent when systems are challenged.

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Norepinephrine Far fewer studies have been done on the relation between prenatal cocaine exposure and the developing noradrenergic system and the majority have been in the postnatal but preweaning period. Preweaning cocaine administration appears to increase activity within the overall noradrenergic system (128). Also demonstrated has been increased fiber density in NE rich regions, increased receptor binding (b1 in cortex at 30 days postnatal but not later; a1 and a2 in cerebellum and forebrain), increased presynaptic synthesis of NE (90,128,129). Rat pups exposed to cocaine on postnatal days 4 through 9 and then exposed to a noradrenergic agonist (clonidine) showed enhanced response to the locomotor stimulating effects of the agonist (130). Noradrenergic neurons arising from the locus coeruleus innervate the entire forebrain with many projections to the posterior and prefrontal cortex. The locus coeruleus appears critical to vigilance or the response to a salient target (131) possibly through projections to the prefrontal cortex. Of special significance is the afferent input from the prefrontal cortex to the locus coeruleus that suggests a feedback, modulating link between cortical activity and ongoing noradrenergic activity (132). Excessive stimulation of adrenergic a1 receptors in effect take the prefrontal cortex offline (98). This in turn disrupts the regulatory loop between the locus coeruleus and the prefrontal cortex and may disrupt the capacity for vigilance and the ability to distinguish salient from non-salient information (133), a behavioral finding in cocaine-exposed animal models (134,135) and suggested in human studies (37,136). These findings underscore the importance for more preclinical work to examine cocaine-related effects on noradrenergic system ontogeny. Behavioral Correlates in Preclinical Models The neurobehavioral areas most frequently studied are: (1) locomotor behavior in open field exploration and responses to monoaminergic agonists and antagonists; (2) attention and conditioned learning; and (3) stress reactivity. In each of these areas, a pattern of neurobehavioral correlates has emerged. Several laboratories studying cocaine and monoaminergic function in the rat, mouse, or rabbit are also examining related behavioral alterations in those domains of behavior most likely related to alterations of mesolimbic or nigrostriatal systems. These include changes in locomotor behavior and in attention. The findings regarding locomotion are mixed depending on the assessment paradigm, the exposure period, and the time of assessment. Prenatal exposure appears to increase spontaneous locomotor activity in open-field exploration during the first 3 weeks of life but not by 60 days of age (137). Others have reported the same lack of relation between prenatal exposure and locomotor activity after the first weeks of life (138–140). Female rats treated on postnatal days 1 through 10 and studied between 60 and 65 days of age show decreased levels of activity (94). Prenatally exposed animals also inhibit approaching novel conditions and open-field exploration (141); and wall-climbing behavior, a dopaminergic regulated behavior, is attenuated with foot-shock in prenatally exposed animals (142). Exposure on postnatal days 11–20 reduced the locomotor response to amphetamine challenge in rats (143). Similarly, amphetamine challenge in prenatally exposed rabbits failed to elicit a stereotypic head bobbing, usually associated with activation of the D1 receptor, and this effect persisted through adulthood (81). The aforementioned hypothesis regarding the uncoupling of the D1 receptor rendering it dysfunctional has support in related behavioral studies. For one, D1 receptor activation regulates the increased locomotor response to cocaine (144). Reduced D1 activity would be expected to reduce behaviors usually stimulated by DA agonists,

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especially selective D1 agonists. D1 deficient mice do not show the usual increase in locomotor behavior on cocaine challenge (145,146), an observation perhaps consistent with the reduced response of pre- and postnatal cocaine-exposed rabbit and rat respectively to amphetamine challenge (143). D1 deficient mice also show reduced rearing behavior, a complex motor activity that is an essential part of an exploratory repertoire (145) and the reduction of which is similar to behavioral patterns seen in prenatally exposed animals (see below). While other motor behaviors are variously altered in D1 deficient mice (including overall activity level, grooming, and sniffing) (146), rearing may be a more sensitive behavioral marker of D1 receptor dysfunction (145). Also, studies of locomotor response to novelty suggest that high responding animals show greater D1 binding in the nucleus accumbens and less D2 binding in both accumbens and striatum (147), again a possible parallel with the reduced open field exploration behaviors of cocaine-exposed animals (see above). Second, in rodents, cocaine or stimulant administration in adulthood elicits a number of characteristic responses including head bobbing, increased sniffing, and activity, behaviors mediated in large part through the D1 system. Selective D1 antagonists abolish this characteristic behavioral response to cocaine as does prenatal cocaine exposure presumably at least in part through the decoupling effect on the D1-GaS system. Similarly, behavioral responses to agonists selective for the D1 receptor are reduced following both prenatal and postnatal exposure (148). There may also be evidence suggestive of a role for the D1 uncoupling in the learning deficits. Prenatally and/or preweaning exposed animals inhibit approaching novel conditions and open-field exploration (141). Deficits in learning are suggested by impairments in classical conditioning (142,149–151), deficiencies in active and passive avoidance tasks (149), poor short-term memory (152), increased response perseveration (153), diminished proximal cue learning (154), impaired learning on serial reversal tasks (155), impaired habituation (156), impaired reversal learning (157), increased susceptibility to distractors in a visual attention task (158), and less efficient error detection (159). Prenatally exposed animals appear unable to attend preferentially to less salient but relevant stimuli in the context of more salient but distracting and non-relevant background stimuli (135,160) and have difficulty changing previously learned conditions (18,161). This collection of findings cuts across prenatal and preweaning exposure. Prenatally exposed rabbits show pronounced anatomical changes in the anterior cingulate cortex (a richly dopaminergic region). Specifically, neurons in this region show marked increase in dendrite outgrowth (81), a deficit possibly connected to the decoupling of the D1 receptor inasmuch as D1 receptor activation in normal animals decreases dendritic outgrowth (162). Indeed, D1 receptor-G protein coupling has been shown reduced in the cingulate cortex in prenatally exposed animals (50,53). Also, the anterior cingulate cortex plays a central role in processes of learning and memory and is especially crucial to situations that demand attention preferentially to less salient but relevant stimuli when more salient, but not necessarily relevant, stimuli occur in the same context. Lesions in the anterior cingulate cortex impair attentional processes and in intact animals, attentional tasks lead to activation of this region (163). Uncoupling the D1 receptor from its second messenger systems dampens D1 mediated responses within striatal neurons and within the cingulate cortex regulated functions and impairs learning (134). Prenatally cocaine exposed rabbits with changes in the anterior cingulate region show reduced learning ability when the positive conditioning stimulus less salient than the negative stimulus (e.g., a soft tone versus a loud tone) (81,135). In other words, these animals cannot attend preferentially to less salient but relevant stimuli in the context of more salient background (and irrelevant) stimuli. These deficits persisted into adulthood

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(135). Other studies have also suggested an association between prenatal cocaine exposure and impaired attentional processes that impede the animal’s ability to change previously learned conditions or to screen out distracting but non-relevant information (18,161). Findings of this nature parallel reports from studies of prenatally cocaine-exposed preschool and school-aged children suggesting deficits in selective attention and in information processing (see below). Altered stress responsivity is suggested by several behavioral observations and is the domain most relevant to the earlier suggestion that early compensatory mechanisms which “normalize” basal conditions may nonetheless leave the adult animal with a vulnerability to novel, challenging, or stressful contexts (164). While neural “stress circuitry” is complex and involves many interactive systems including the corticosteroid-based HPA axis, dopaminergic and noradrenergic pathways in the amygdala and other limbic and corticothalamic systems are central (165). Furthermore, stress selectively stimulates many of the same dopaminergic regions as does cocaine. Prenatally exposed rats, while initially showing less motor response to open field exploration, do engage in exploration after a delay and then do so with markedly increased activity suggesting overarousal (90,166,167). Similarly, adult rats exposed to cocaine prenatally demonstrate less expected stress-induced immobility during a forced swim, intermittent foot-shock, or when placed in a novel condition following footshock (142,153,164,168–170). This alteration in stress responsivity as manifest by immobility changes with age. Prepubertal or preweaning animals exposed prenatally to cocaine show greater immobility in stressful conditions such as forced swim or footshock (170–172). Other behaviors suggest increased arousal and altered stress responsivity. Prenatally exposed animals are more sensitive to environmental demands and show more aggression than non-treated animals in conditions of water deprivation and competition for water (164,173). Increased aggression is not apparent however if the animals are not stressed (164). Far more work is required to link these behavioral observations of altered stress responsivity with the alterations in neurochemical function related to prenatal cocaine exposure. Finally, there is some suggestion that prenatally cocaine-exposed animals may be more sensitive to the effects of early experience (stressful and non-stressful). With chronic stress (such as repeated footshock over time), preadolescent cocaine exposed animals “reverse” their acute stressor pattern of reduced immobility and show more immobility as is expected in non-exposed animals (171). Non-exposed but repeatedly stressed animals show less significant changes in the pattern of their stress response. Findings such as these about the effects of “early experience” point to potentially productive lines of work using more traditional early experiences such as increased handling that have been studied in relation to adrenocortical function and stress (48,174).

HUMAN MODEL OF PRENATAL EXPOSURE Outcomes of prenatally cocaine-exposed children seen through adolescence range from assessments of physical growth and motoric maturation to standardized assessments of cognition and language, neurophysiological indices of arousal and sensory response, emotional regulation, maladaptive behavior, and a range of executive control functions. However, in both extensive descriptive reviews and meta-analyses, appropriate concerns have been raised about singularly attributing any one disruption in developmental capacities to the prenatal effects of cocaine on emerging neural systems (27). Prenatal exposure to cocaine is often paired with a simultaneous exposure to other drugs and to severe postnatal environmental deprivation (28,29,177–180). Only a few studies have

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addressed apparent cocaine-related effects on children’s development and behavior that are moderated or mediated (181) via pathways of maternal health or quality of caregiving (182,183) or have taken into consideration parental attentional or learning difficulties that may serve as markers of possible genetic contributions to infant functioning (184). Nonetheless, bearing in mind these cautions, a number of findings in human studies have appeared across laboratories and are consistent with those in preclinical models.

Neurochemical Findings in Infants and Children In human infants, neuro-chemical studies following prenatal exposure are scant but two areas of work point to effects on those neurochemical systems most related to arousal regulation and altered response to stress. Three studies have examined metabolites, precursors, or levels of NE or DA in the serum or cerebrospinal fluid of newborns exposed to cocaine prenatally and have found a significant increase in plasma NE (185) and catecholamine precursors in CSF (186) and a decrease in the metabolites of DA (187), findings suggesting an alteration in monoaminergic system function at least neonatally. Further, for the cocaine-exposed infants, NE levels were inversely related to features of the infant’s neurobehavioral profile (186). Second, cocaine exposed infants exhibit an attenuated cortisol response to noninvasive (neurobehavioral exam) and invasive (heelstick) manipulations despite no differences in baseline cortisol levels (188) suggesting that glucocorticoid mediated arousal regulatory systems are altered by in utero cocaine exposure or by the chronically stressful conditions associated with cocaine exposure (189).

Neurobehavioral and Developmental Findings There are at least two pathways by which disruptions in monoaminergic system ontogeny might effect neurocognitive functioning in prenatally exposed children (190). One relates to arousal modulated attention and related cognitive functioning (27,37). In this model, neurocognitive impairments in a range of prefrontal cortical functions are expected especially as children are more emotionally aroused. The second model is based on a direct effect of cocaine on cortical morphology and specialization (74–77). In this model, neurocognitive deficits might be expected in even non-stressed conditions in a range of functions including impaired inhibition and slowed reactions times (191). Findings from several groups are consistent with both of these models. A number of investigators have reported difficulties among prenatally cocaine-exposed children in arousal regulatory capacities ranging from increased excitability with poor state regulation, rapid changes in arousal with stimulation (measured by changes in heart rate), to increased arousal from sleep, and greater physiological lability (136,192–199), with some findings persisting at least through one year of follow-up (200,201) with some findings studied longitudinally and persisting at least through one year of follow-up (200). These differences in behavioral and physiological arousal are expanded upon by a few studies examining the relation between arousal modulated attention and impaired information processing in infants and toddlers including diminished responsiveness to novel stimuli and recognition memory, poor impulse control and task persistence, diminished sustained attention, and greater emotional lability and/or behavioral disorganization. (37,197,202–211) as well as other aspects of the stress response system, including the studies cited above of baseline and peak cortisol response to stressors in which cocaine-exposed infants show a depressed cortisol response to challenge (188) or lower baseline levels (202).

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Thus, evidence suggests that cocaine-exposed children may be more easily aroused and hence vulnerable to difficulties in information processing and learning in novel conditions consistent with one model of the developmental impact of prenatal cocaine exposure. At the same time, a number of labs are also reporting neurocognitive deficits under even optimal testing conditions using narrow band assessments to test specific functions such as task switching and inhibition. Collected findings include slower reaction times to visual stimulus presentation (38) slowed reaction times in continuous performance tasks (39), greater perseveration, diminished response inhibition (40,41,212,213), increased errors of comission or omission on A-not-B or continuous performance tasks (37,39–43), diminished capacity for sustained attention (44,214), and deficits in spatial learning (215). The range of attentional/executive control function effects that seem related to prenatal cocaine exposure may be consistent with preclinical work suggesting a cocainerelated effect on the development of the anterior cingulated cortex (216) and, as discussed in earlier sections, on dopaminergic D1/D2 mediated circuitry critical to regulation of prefrontal cortex (84) and to upregulation of noradrenergic (and serotonergic) systems at a time in early development that could permanently distort the excitatory/inhibitory balance between regulatory systems necessary for optimal cortical function. Consistent with findings discussed earlier regarding the decoupling of the D1 system, in preclinical models, behavioral responses to agonists selective for the D1 receptor are reduced following both prenatal and postnatal exposure (148). Similarly, differential reduction in cingulate activity in cocaine-exposed animals is associated with an impaired ability to discriminate among salient and/or relevant stimuli (134,135), a finding consistent with emerging data cited above in human studies. Also, because as cited above, cocaineassociated disruptions in neuronal migration with attendant disruptions in cortical lamination (74–77,191) might interfere with regional specialization and performance on certain cortically related tasks might be slowed (191). This suggestion is supported by findings from prenatallly cocaine-exposed monkeys followed through six years of age who were tested on their ability to learn a new set of responses following a change in the rules of reinforcement for a simple visual discrimination task (157,217). The task required inhibition of a previously learned and rewarding response. The prenatally cocaine-exposed animals performed much more poorly, that is, they took more sessions to attain or never attained pre-reversal type responding when compared to the drug-naive control animals. These data are also consistent with findings from human studies using event related potential methods in which prenatally cocaine-exposed 7 to 9 years old children used more diffuse regions of the cortex to complete a simple response inhibition task (190). Though the children were able to respond correctly in an untimed testing situation, their responses were slower and they required more time to complete the task as might be considered consonant with more diffuse activation of the cortex. Thus, although the findings in overall cognitive development in preschool and school aged-children are inconsistent, (43,218,219) the evidence increasingly documents somewhat greater cognitive impairments in CE children after controlling for other drug exposures. (197,220,221) While the effects on IQ may be subtle, (222) moderate to severe delays and impairments in both expressive and receptive language development are more consistently reported (175,176,223–230). Some of these include controls for environmental stimulation. Studies of developmental language differences among cocaineexposed children are also beginning to focus on more specific outcome measures such as differences in phonological patterns (229) that are less confounded by environmental deprivation.

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In terms of behavior and school performance, a few studies document a suggested increase in behavioral and academic problems among cocaine-exposed children, though these findings are confounded by reporting bias of often non-blinded observers (230). Importantly, several investigators have reported apparent cocaine-related effects on children’s development and behavior that are moderated or mediated (181) via pathways of maternal health or quality of caregiving (182,183). Conversely, others have examined infants exposed prenatally who were adopted into stable environments and have documented apparent direct effects of the prenatal exposure on neurocognitive outcomes (221,231). Also, several studies have differentiated between heavy and moderate to light exposure and found dose-response outcomes Several studies have also documented doseresponse effects on attention control, executive function, and general cognitive deficits (197,201,202,206,232) as well as an interactive effect with the level of environmental risk (212). Thus, despite a number of methodological concerns and still scant data for schoolaged children, the profile emerging for those children prenatally exposed to cocaine suggests a range of neurocognitive, neuropsychological dysfunction that may be a combination of effects, partially mediated through adverse environment, partially through the perinatal impact of the exposure, and partially through a direct effect on neural structure-function relationships.

THE INTERACTION OF PRENATAL COCAINE EXPOSURE AND A DRUG-DEPENDENT ENVIRONMENT Adults participating in substance abuse treatment programs, seeking individual treatment for their addiction, or involved in chronic substance abuse without ever seeking treatment come from a wide range of environmental conditions, each of which contribute to the adult’s ability to parent children. Surely the most studied and most reported on are the confluence of conditions relating to extreme poverty, homelessness, prostitution, and violence (184). Multiple studies from substance abuse treatment programs document the high incidence of unemployment and less than a high school education among participating substance-abusing women (233). Among this population, the rate of unemployment has been shown as high as 96% (234). Many report few to no friendships or contacts with supportive persons who are not also substance abusers, and substanceabusing adults often describe long-standing social detachment (235). The level of violence in substance-abusing families particularly between women and their spouses or male friends is markedly high and exposes children to a considerable amount of witnessed violence (236). Notably, there are few data about how often children in substance-abusing families are being reared by a single mother, although the quoted percentages usually exceed 70% (237), or how often and in what ways fathers are involved (238). The reluctance of many substance-abusing adults to reveal details about their households contributes in part to this lack of knowledge, but it also reflects in part the broader lack of adequate data about the family structure in substance-abusing households—how many adults usually care for a child, how many households may a child move among, how often are substance-abusing mothers and their children virtually homeless. Those coordinating ongoing treatment programs for substance-abusing adults and their children report that participating women have great difficulty understanding their infants’ and children’s communications as expressions of needs and not as demanding and inappropriate (239). Often deprived and neglected themselves, many substance-abusing mothers have unrealistic expectations of what infants or children can do for their mothers

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(240,241). The infant may be seen as a gift or as an extension of the mother’s own needs. Those women who deny that their drug use has any effect on their infant or child have been reported to be at much greater risk for impaired parenting manifest, for example, by neglect (242). On psychological testing, substance-abusing women often score high on externalizing traits, a finding reflecting a commonly reported belief that their lives and fates are controlled by forces and persons outside of themselves and their control (243,244). Feelings of worthlessness, poor self-esteem, anxiety, and depression are commonly reported (240,242,245) although these may also be exacerbated by chronic substance abuse. If there is heterogeneity among studies of the neurobehavioral outcome among prenatally cocaine exposed children, there is even greater variability in studies of the caregiving interactions between cocaine-using mothers and their children. To date, fewer than 20 studies (Table 2) have examined the interactions between cocaine-using mothers and their infants and young children. The findings are varied in part because of variations in sample size (from 5 to 364 mother–child pairs across the studies), use of a comparison or control group, inclusion of the average amount of maternal cocaine use in the analyses and taking into account postnatal changes in amount of use, place of the assessment and age of the child, and the interactive behaviors assessed. For example, amount and form of cocaine exposure and use of other drugs was carefully estimated and reported in only six studies (246–251). Across the studies, the youngest children at the time of assessment of interaction were newborns (1–2 days of age), and the oldest children were three years of age. Interaction quality was assessed during a feeding situation in six studies, in structured play or task situation in seven studies, and in free play situation in eight of the studies. Four studies have used a stress-inducing situation such as short separation-reunion or interruption of the interaction as an additional information basis. Duration of the interactive situation assessed varied from three minutes to approximately one hour. Most focused on mother and child separately and only also included dyadic behavior. With these caveats in mind, findings across the available studies point to a general disengagement, lack of pleasure in the interaction or attention to the infant, and poor attention to the infant’s cues. Cocaine-using mothers, whose children were six months of age or less, were found to spend more time passively looking at their infant but were more disengaged from the infant in terms of responding to the infant’s cues (252). They were lacking in social initiative and resourcefulness (253), showed less flexibility, engagement (254), and higher non-contingency in interaction (247), had shorter feeding episodes (254) and were found less attentive to interaction. Non-attentiveness and tendency to interrupt the interaction also increased towards the six month point (248). With young infants, mothers who relapsed back to cocaine use after birth of the child had more negative interaction behavior as a whole than those who remained drug free following their prenatal use (255). Infants less than six months of age of cocaine-using mothers showed longer periods drowsy, asleep, or distressed as newborns (252), showed less enjoyment during play, continued to show negative expressions and slow recovery after short interruption of interaction (201), higher stress to novelty (247), and less readiness to interact with the mother at six months compared to three months of age (248). In their dyadic interactions, there was a notable lack of enthusiasm and mutual enjoyment (253,256), fewer engagement in dyadic interactions (248), higher dyadic conflict (247), and less mutual arousal within the dyad (256). Cocaine-using mothers of children six months to three years of age continued to show less enjoyment and pleasure in interaction (256), less emotional engagement (250), were more intrusive and hostile, showed lower self confidence, and tended to give commands or instructions not appropriate for the child’s developmental age (249). Maternal interaction

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Studies of Interaction Between Cocaine-Using Mothers and Their Children

Study (Neuspiel, Hamel, Hochberg et al. 1991) (Burns, Chetnik, Burns et al. 1991) (Gottwald and Thurman, 1994) (Burns, Chetnik, Burns et al. 1997) (Hagan and Myers, 1997) (Mays, Feldman, Granger et al. 1997) (Blackwell, Kirkhart, Schmitt et al. 1998) (Bendersky and Lewis, 1998) (Swanson, Beckwith and Howard, 2000) (Eiden, 2001) (Ukeje, Bendersky and Lewis, 2001) (Espinosa, Beckwith, Howard et al. 2001) (Johnson, Morrow, Accornero et al. 2002) (Elden, Lewis, Croff et al. 2002) (Molltor, Mayes and Ward, 2003) (Beeghly, Frank, Rose-Jacobs et al. 2003) (LaGasse, Messenger, Lester et al. 2003)

Sample Control size group

Child’s age

Method

Positive findings

16

Yes

7–16 weeks

Feeding (NCAFS)

No

5

No

4 months

Play (P-CERA)

20

Yes

12–48 hr

Play, tasks

10

Yes

8–11 months

Play (P-CERA)

13

Yes

2–2.5 years

43

Yes

3 & 6 months

Play (T-CPS, P/CTS) Play

Yes (Mother, Dyad) Yes (Mother, Child) Yes (Mother, Dyad) No

21

Yes

4 & 6 months

41

Yes

4 months

51

No

18–23 months Play, tasks

Yes (Mother)

19

Ye

2 months

Feeding(MIFS)

49

Yes

12 months

35

No

6 & 7 months

157

Yes

3 years

Play, separationreunion Feeding, home obs. Play, tasks (TTCS)

Yes (Mother, Child, Dyad) Yes (Mother, Child) Yes (Mother)

19

Yes

2 & 7 months

26

Yes

18 months

90

Yes

5,11, & 12 months

364

Yes

7 months

Feeding (NCAFS) Play, still face

Feeding, play, tasks Play, separationreunion Play, tasks (NCAT), separationreunion Feeding

Yes (Mother, Child, Dyad) Yes (Mother) Yes (Child)

Yes (Mother, Child, Dyad) Yes (Child) Yes (Mother, Child) Yes (Child)

Yes (Mother)

was found to be most impaired with mothers continuing cocaine use during three-year postnatal follow-up than with mothers who were drug free (249). The children of these mothers more often ignored their mothers’ departures (251), cried less during separationreunion and showed more avoidance in reunion (246), showed either lower (250) or higher negative affect in response to stress (257), less emotional engagement in follow-up play after short interruption (250), and diminished ability to persist in task (249).

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A few studies have explored issues of attachment between cocaine-using mothers and their children. Sensitive maternal behavior in interaction has been considered the crucial component leading to secure attachment in the child. Insecure attachment is a potent risk factor for child’s later socio-affective and behavioral maladaptation (258,259). Disorganized attachment pattern is considered most worrisome, because it appears to be associated with higher stress, aggression, externalizing problem behavior and psychiatric symptomatology in later childhood (260–262). Findings relating maternal cocaine-use status and child attachment organization have varied. Three studies report insecure and especially disorganized attachment pattern as clearly more prevalent among cocaineexposed children compared to normative samples, measured at 15 to 18 month of child’s age (263–265). No difference was found in the distribution of child attachment status between biological, kinship and foster care mothers (263,265). In contrast, Beeghly and colleagues explored child attachment among 89 children with lighter or heavier cocaine exposure and without severe psychopathology among the substance-using mothers, compared to 61 non-exposed control children (246) and found the percentage of infants with insecure or disorganized attachment to be consistent with normative samples. Cocaineexposed children were considered no more likely than medically and demographically similar control children to show insecure or disorganized attachment patterns. Thus, while not entirely consistent, what seems clear from these few studies is that the combination of maternal depression, early abuse and neglect, unstable early and current attachments, and continued substance use come together to markedly impair an adult’s ability to care for their infant. In turn, the infant and young children may have a biologically conveyed vulnerability to becoming easily overaroused, behaviorally disorganized or withdrawn, more impulsive, and less attentive—a behavioral profile that would be challenging for the most competent of caregivers and surely stressful for a mother who is herself more fragile and easily disorganized. A fruitful perspective for considering the substance-using environment and its effect on a child is to consider three levels of risk as illustrated in Figure 1. A macroscopic level involves the factors most often discussed and measured from both the maternal and the infant perspective. These includes issues for the mother of the health impact of polydrug use, co-morbid psychiatric and physical health issues, genetic contributions to her vulnerability to substance use, poverty, homelessness, and poor social support. For the infant, at the macroscopic level are similar issues of medical status, genetic contributions, and potential neurobehavorial vulnerabilities from the prenatal substance exposure. These macroscopic variables come together at a more proximal or microscopic level to the behaviors described above in which maternal passivity, disengagement, less contingent responding, less flexible and adaptive parenting style come together with the infant’s easy irritability, less engaged, less attentive behavior to create a tense, non-mutual, often in conflict dyadic interaction. How these kinds of interactive behaviors at a microscopic level translate into enduring social-affective problems for a child growing up in a substance using environment requires thinking yet a third level of how mother and infant experience the interactions. As shown in the figure, substance using mothers by virtue of the factors at the other two levels often experience themselves as poor mothers not able to care for a baby and their infant as not interested in them. When the infant turns away in frustration or fatigue and often in an uncomforted, distressed state, the mother also feels as if she has been rejected and that the baby does not care about her. Their mutual disappointment/frustration is cyclical. Importantly, only a handful of investigators are now beginning to study interactions between substance-using mothers and their infants at this more experiential level. One set of data suggest that such a level is a potentially productive avenue to explore. This experiential level may be operationalized from the maternal point of view as

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MACROSCOPIC LEVEL: COMBINATIONS OF PAST AND CURRENT RISK FACTORS Maternal Risks

Infant Risks Cocaine-related effects on arousal and Cocaine-related effects on mood and attention regulatory capacities Mother: Poor resources attention Polydrug effects for Polydrug effects Genetic loading parenting Poor physical health Genetic loading Infant: Increased need for Irritability, lability, poor state regulation Psychiatric comorbidity care Poor physical health Homelessness Unemployment Poor education Poor social support MICROSCOPIC LEVEL: DISRUPTIONS OF BEHAVIORS DURING PARENT-CHILD INTERACTION Mother More passive, disengaged, noncontingent, interrupting Less resourceful, attentive, flexible

Mother and Infant: More dyadic conflict Less mutual pleasure, synchrony, and mutual affect regulation

Infant Poor sleep-wake regulation, more irritable and sensitive to change or novelty Less positive emotion expressed in the interaction and less able to recover from distress (e.g., poorer selfregulatory abilities)

EXPERIENTIAL LEVEL: UNDERSTANDING THE FEELINGS AND NEEDS OF INFANT AS SEPARATE FROM THOSE OF PARENT Mother Less able to think of child’s experience Experiences child’s distress or failure to respond as “rejecting”

Figure 1

Infant Mutual Frustration Mutual Disappointment Negative expectation for future interactive moments

Gets easily tired Inconsistent or unclear cues Needs help in state regulation Easily distressed and overwhelmed Withdraws from interaction when distressed

The substance-using environment and its impact on the parent-child relationship.

a capacity to understand oneself and others in terms of mental states (feelings, beliefs, intentions and desires) and to reason about one’s own and another’s behavior in relation to these (266). This ability, termed reflective functioning, is considered the capacity that makes it possible for a mother to behave sensitively with her child in interaction. In the study by Levy and colleagues (267), 58 cocaine-using mothers were assessed regarding their reflective functioning and compared to a non-cocaine group of mothers. The age of their children was 2–4 years. Cocaine mothers were found to have a significantly lower reflective capacity than the comparison mothers. Reflective capacities correlated positively with child’s social skills, negatively with child’s attention problems, tendency to withdraw, parental distress and dysfunctional parent–child interaction. In both the controls and the substance-using groups, as mothers increased in their abilities to reflect on their children’s needs and feelings, their children were more pro-social, responsive, able to modulate their emotional state, and the dyadic relationship was more congruent and less frustrated and stressful (267). Thus, while substance use may significantly impair a

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mother’s ability to reflect on her child’s needs apart from her own, for those substanceusing women who are able to do so as a result of intervention or on their own, this capacity may be a powerful buffer against the negative weight of many of the conditions at the macroscopic level of experience for substance-using mothers and their children. Continued systematic study of the following areas are crucial for advancing understanding about how substance abuse as a condition and how particular substances of abuse influence parenting: (1) How substance abuse affects the day-to-day activities of parents with their children that are known to mediate early social, affective, and cognitive development (e.g., parental use of language, encouraging exploration, attention directing, joint attention, social referencing); (2) The factors (e.g., social support, history of being abused as a child, chronic exposure to and witnessing of violence, children with special physical demands, sense of competence as a parent) that increase or decrease the risks for a substance-abusing parent and child for impairments in these day-to-day activities and in the more global measures of parenting disruption such as abuse and neglect; (3) The contribution of pre-morbid factors to substance abuse and addiction and to the individual’s ability to parent adequately (e.g., major depression, anxiety disorders, severe childhood trauma, substance abuse in parent’s parents); and (4) the protective factors that allow substanceabusing parents to care for their children adequately despite the demands or compromises of their addiction (e.g., involvement in substance abuse treatment program, supportive partner, sense of self-efficacy, and motivation to change) and especially those factors that allow a parent despite considerable adversity to experience her own parenting role as positive and to be able to think about her child’s needs and feelings apart from her own. SUMMARY While far more work is needed at the preclinical level, findings are accumulating to suggest a targeted and enduring effect of prenatal cocaine exposure on monoaminergic system ontogeny and function. Early gestation exposure to cocaine may affect the most basic processes of neuronal proliferation and migration while later exposure influences neuronal maturation and synaptogenesis. It is probable that there are differential effects on the three monoaminergic systems and that impairment in one system may be compensated for through up or down regulation of another. This interactive and compensatory mechanism may account in part for variations in findings depending on the age of the animal at the time of study. Combining prenatal and preweaning exposure models will be important to model the more common human condition of exposure throughout pregnancy. In addition, promising work suggests that with maturation some of the baseline behavioral effects of prenatal exposure may be less apparent but deficits continue to be manifest under stressful or novel conditions. The preclinical models are extremely useful for suggesting hypothesis and potentially fruitful avenues of study in the human. In summary, three lines of evidence suggest a plausible link between prenatal cocaine exposure and specific effects on the mechanisms subserving arousal and attention regulation in infants and preschool aged children. These are: 1. The association of prenatal cocaine exposure with alterations in monoaminergic system ontogeny with suggestive findings pointing to a functional decoupling of DA D1/D2 interaction, an increase in D2 and NE activity, and a dysregulation of serotonin-mediated neuronal connectivity and neural growth factors. 2. Neurobehavioral effects of prenatal cocaine exposure in animals including inhibited exploration and altered responses to stress suggesting overarousal in the face of novel/stressful situations and disrupted attention and learning.

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3. Neurobehavioral findings in infants and preschool aged children suggestive of disrupted arousal regulation in the face of stress or novelty, increased distractibility, impulsivity, and consequent impaired attention to novel, structured tasks. As outlined above, while crack–cocaine use has declined since the peak years in the late 1980s, there continues to be a steady prevalence of regular use among women of child bearing age. Thus, infants continue to be exposed, and those children born earlier continue to live in substance-using environments. As prenatally cocaine-exposed children reach school age, the cumulative effects of the postnatal substance-abusing environment may account for a large portion of the variance in the child’s developmental and psychological outcome. How early deficits in arousal and attention regulation may be expressed later in children’s cognitive development, learning, school performance, social functioning, capacity to metabolize stressful conditions, and psychiatric/psychological dysfunctions of attention (e.g., ADHD), anxiety, and/or conduct disorders is a long-term question that can only be addressed as the longitudinal cohorts accumulated across the country become adolescents and young adults. There is also the issue of compensatory processes after exposure has ended. While it is true that early neural events related to cocaine exposure do alter other ontogenetic events downstream long after exposure has ended, it is also true that for young children there is an enormously rapid, experience-dependent phase of neural development in the first three to four years. Synaptic formation and synaptic remodeling are occurring at extraordinarily rapid rates during these early years and the possibility for remodeling and compensation is surely present. Indeed, with sufficiently nurturing environments, it may well be that some neurocognitive effects either attenuate or appear as children near puberty (48,142,153,168–170). Regretfully, however, many if not the majority of infants exposed to cocaine prenatally grow up in less than adequate environments that may not be able to provide the sufficient experiential substrate to facilitate neural compensatory processes. Rather, it may be that the very vulnerability to dysfunctional arousal systems is further compromised by the inadequate to chaotic environments that these children grow up in and we have proposed one such model of continued biologic-environment vulnerability. Beginning early and comprehensive interventions at all levels of care for the prenatally exposed infant is critical to interrupting the interactive cycle illustrated in our proposed model. Regretfully, the tragic reality is there are usually markedly insufficient psychosocial services available for substance-using families and their children and the design of available services does not always facilitate access by a severely addicted, often homeless and depressed substance-using parent with a difficult to care for child. Mental health interventions informed by these models as well as by those of behavioral teratology and developmental psychopathology will be critical to breaking the continued cycle of substance use, poverty, and environmental chaos that so often tracks the lives of so many children from substance using homes (55,232). ACKNOWLEDGMENTS The work has been supported by NIDA grants ROI-DA-06025 (LCM), KO2-DA00222 (LCM), KO5-DA20091 (LCM), and RO1-DA017863 (LCM). The work has also been supported by The Finnish Medical Foundation, National Institute of Drug Abuse (NIDA) Invest Research Fellowship, International Psychoanalytical Association (IPA), and Academy of Finland. This work also draws extensively on other reviews completed by the first author including references 9, 20, and 27.

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157. Chelonis JJ, Gillam MP, Paule MG. The effects of prenatal cocaine exposure on reversal learning using a simple visual discrimination task in rhesus monkeys. Neurotoxicol Teratol 2003; 25:437–446. 158. Gendle MH, White TL, Strawderman M, et al. Enduring effects of prenatal cocaine exposure on selective attention and reactivity to errors: evidence from an animal model. Behav Neurosci 2004; 118:290–297. 159. Morgan RE, Garavan HP, Mactutus CF. Enduring effects of prenatal cocaine exposure on attention and reaction to errors. Behav Neurosci 2002; 116:624–633. 160. Gabriel M, Taylor C, Burhans L. In utero cocaine, discriminative avoidance learning with low-salient stimuli and learning-related neuronal activity in rabbits (Oryctolagus cuniculus). Behav Neurosci 2003; 117:912–926. 161. Heyser C, Spear N, Spear L. The effects of prenatal exposure to cocaine on conditional discrimination learning in adult rats. Behav Neurosci 1992; 106:841–849. 162. Reinoso BS, Undie AS, Levitt P. Dopamine receptors mediate differential morphological effects on cerebral cortical neurons in vitro. J Neurosci Res 1996; 43:439–453. 163. Vogt BA, Gabriel M, eds. Neurobiology of Cingulate Cortex and Limbic Thalamus: A Comprehensive Handbook. Boston: Birkhausser, 1993. 164. Spear LP, Campbell J, Snyder K, Silveri M, Katovic N. Animal behavioral models. Increased sensitivity to stressors and other environmental experiences after prenatal cocaine exposure. Ann NY Acad Sci 1998; 846:76–88. 165. Dunn AJ, Kramarcy NR, eds. Neurochemical Responses in Stress: Relationship Between the Hypothalamic–Pituitary–Adrenal and Catecholamine Systems. In: Handbook of Psychopharmacology. New York: Plenum Publishing Corporation, 1984. 166. Hutchings DE, Fico TA, Dow-Edwards DL. Prenatal cocaine: maternal toxicity, fetal effects and locomotor activity in rat offspring. Neurotoxicol Teratol 1989; 11:65–69. 167. Spear L, Frambes N, Kirstein C. Fetal and maternal brain and plasma levels of cocaine and benzoylecgonine following chronic SC administration of cocaine during gestation in rats. Psychopharmacology 1989; 97:427–431. 168. Bilitzke PJ, Church MW. Prenatal cocaine and alcohol exposures affect rat behavior in a stress test (the Porsolt swim test). Neurotoxicol Teratol 1992; 14:359–364. 169. McMillen B, Johns J, Bass E, Means L. Learning and behavior of rats exposed to cocaine throughout gestation. Teratology 1991; 43:495. 170. Molina VA, Wagner JM, Spear LP. The behavioral response to stress is altered in adult rats exposed prenatally to cocaine. Physiol Behav 1994; 55:941–945. 171. Goodwin GA, Bliven T, Kuhn C, Francis R, Spear LP. Immediate early gene expression to examine neuronal activity following acute and chronic stressors in rat pups: examination of the neurophysiological alterations underlying behavioral consequences of prenatal cocaine exposure. Physiol Behav 1997; 61:895–902. 172. Wood RD, Molina VA, Wagner JM, Spear LP. Play behavior and stress responsivity in periadolescent offspring exposed prenatally to cocaine. Pharmacol Biochem Behav 1995; 52:367–374. 173. Wood RD, Spear LP. Prenatal cocaine alters social competition of infant, adolescent, and adult rats. Behav Neurosci 1998; 112:419–431. 174. Meaney MJ, Aitken DH, Viau V, Sharma S, Sarrieau S. Neonatal handling alters adrenocortical negative feedback sensitivity and hippocampal type II glucocorticoid receptor binding in the rat. Neuroendocrinology 1989; 50:597–604. 175. Bland-Stewart LM, Seymour HN, Beeghley M, Frank DA. Semantic development of African– American children prenatally exposed to cocaine. Sem Speech Lang 1998; 19:167–187. 176. Malakoff ME, Mayes LC, Schottenfeld R, Howell S. Language production in 24-month-old inner-city children of cocaine-and-other-drug-using mothers. J Appl Dev Psychol 1999; 20:159–180. 177. Lutiger B, Graham K, Einarson TR, Koren G. Relationship between gestational cocaine use and pregnancy outcome: a meta-analysis. Teratology 1991; 44:405–414. 178. Vogel G. Cocaine wrecks subtle damage on developing brains. Science 1997; 278:38–39.

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179. Held JR, Riggs ML, Dorman C. The effect of prenatal cocaine exposure on neurobehavioral outcome: a meta-analysis. Neurotoxicol Teratol 1999; 21:619–625. 180. LaGasse LL, Seifer R, Lester BM. Interpreting research on prenatal substance exposure in the context of multiple confounding factors. Clin Perinatol 1999; 26:39–54. 181. Baron R, Kenny D. The moderator-mediator variable distinction in social psychological research: conceptual, strategic, and statistical considerations. J Pers Soc Psychol 1986; 51:1173–1182. 182. Black M, Schuler M, Nair P. Prenatal drug exposure: neurodevelopmental outcome and parenting environment. J Pediatr Psychol 1993; 18:605–620. 183. Singer L, Arendt R, Farkas K, Minnes S, Huang J, Yamashita T. Relationship of prenatal cocaine exposure and maternal postpartum psychological distress to child developmental outcome. Dev Psychopath 1997; 9:473–489. 184. Mayes LC. Substance abuse and parenting. In: Bornstein M, ed. The Handbook of Parenting. Hillsdale, NJ: Erlbaum, 1995:101–125. 185. Davidson Ward S, Schuetz S, Wachsman L, et al. Elevated plasma norepinephrine levels in infants of substance-abusing mothers. Am J Dis Child 1991; 145:44–48. 186. Mirochnick M, Meyer J, Cole J, Herren T, Zuckerman B. Circulating catecholamine concentrations in cocaine-exposed neonates: a pilot study. Pediatrics 1991; 88:481–485. 187. Needlman R, Zuckerman B, Anderson GM, Mirochnick M, Cohen DJ. Cerebrospinal fluid monoamine precursors and metabolites in human neonates following in utero cocaine exposure: a preliminary study. Pediatrics 1993; 92:55–60. 188. Mangano C, Gardner J, Karmel B. Differences in salivary cortisol levels in cocaine-exposed and noncocaine-exposed NICU infants. Dev Psychobiol 1992; 25:93–103. 189. Karmel BZ, Gardner JM, Magnano CL. Neurofunctional consequences of in utero cocaine exposure. NIDA Res Monogr 1991; 105:535–536. 190. Mayes LC, Molfese DL, Key AF. Event-related potentials in cocaine-exposed children during a Stroop Task. Neurotoxicology and Teratology 2005; 27:797–813. 191. Lidow MS. Consequences of prenatal cocaine exposure in nonhuman primates. Dev Brain Res 2003; 147:23–36. 192. Mayes LC, Bornstein MH, Chawarska K, Granger RH. Information processing and developmental assessments in 3-month-old infants exposed prenatally to cocaine. Pediatrics 1995; 95:539–545. 193. DiPietro JA, Suess PE, Wheeler JS, Smouse PH, Newlin DB. Reactivity and regulation in cocaine-exposed neonates. Infant Behav Develop 1995; 18:407–414. 194. Brown JV, Bakeman R, Coles CD, Sexson WR, Demi AS. Maternal drug use during pregnancy: are preterms and full-terms affected differently? Dev Psych 1998; 34:540–554. 195. Gingras JL, Feibel J, Dalley B, Muelenaer A. Maternal polydrug use including cocaine and postnatal infant sleep architecture: preliminary observations and implications for respiratory control and behavior. Early Hum Develop 1995; 43:197–204. 196. Karmel BZ, Gardner JM. Prenatal cocaine exposure effects on arousal-modulated attention during the neonatal period. Dev Psychobiol 1996; 29:463–480. 197. Alessandri SM, Bendersky M, Lewis M. Cognitive functioning in 8- to 18- month old drugexposed infants. Dev Psych 1998; 34:565–573. 198. Regaldo MG, Schechtman VL, Del Angel AP, Bean XD. Cardiac and respiratory patterns during sleep in cocaine-exposed neonates. Early Hum Develop 1996; 44:187–200. 199. Regaldo M, Schechtman V, Del Angel A, Bean X. Sleep disorganization in cocaine-exposed neonates. Infant Behav Develop 1995; 18:319–327. 200. Scher MS, Richardson GA, Day NL. Effects of prenatal cocaine/crack and other drug exposure on electroencephalographic sleep studies at birth and one year. Pediatrics 2000; 105:39–48. 201. Bendersky M, Lewis M. Arousal modulation in cocaine-exposed infants. Dev Psych 1998; 34:555–564. 202. Jacobson SW, Bihun JT, Chiodo LM. Effects of prenatal alcohol and cocaine exposure on infant cortisol levels. Dev Psychopath 1999; 11:195–208.

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203. Alessandri S, Sullivan M, Imaizumi S, Lewis M. Learning and emotional responsivity in cocaine-exposed infants. Dev Psych 1993; 29:989–997. 204. Azuma SD, Chasnoff IJ. Outcome of children prenatally exposed to cocaine and other drugs: a path analysis of three-year data. Pediatrics 1993; 92:396–402. 205. Griffith DR, Azuma SD, Chasnoff IJ. Three-year outcome of children exposed prenatally to drugs. Special Section: cocaine babies. J Am Acad Child Adolesc Psychiatry 1994; 33:20–27. 206. Jacobson SW, Jacobson JL, Sokol RJ, Martier SS, Chiodo LM. New evidence for neurobehavioral effects of in utero cocaine exposure. J Pediatr 1996; 129:581–590. 207. Struthers JM, Hansen RL. Visual recognition memory in drug-exposed infants. J Dev Behav Pediatr 1992; 13:108–111. 208. Hansen RL, Struthers JM, Gospe SM. Visual evoked potentials and visual processing in stimulant drug-exposed infants. Dev Med Child Neurol 1993; 35:798–805. 209. Metosky P, Vondra J. Prenatal drug exposure and play and coping in toddlers: a comparative study. Infant Behav Dev 1995; 18:15–25. 210. Coles CD, Bard KA, Platzman KA, Lynch ME. Attentional responses at eight weeks in prenatally drug-exposed and preterm infants. Neurotoxicol Teratol 1999; 21:527–537. 211. Singer L, Arendt R, Fagan J, et al. Neonatal visual information processing in cocaine-exposed and non-exposed infants. Infant Behav Dev 1999; 22:1–15. 212. Bendersky M, Gambini G, Lastella A, Bennett DS, Lewis M. Inhibitory motor control at five years as a function of prenatal cocaine exposure. J Dev Behav Pediatr 2003; 24:345–351. 213. Bendersky M, Gambini G, Lastella A, Bennett DS, Lewis MI. Inhibitory motor control at five years as a function of prenatal cocaine exposure. J Dev Behav Pediatr 2004; 24:345–351. 214. Savage J, Brodsky NL, Malmud E, Giannetta JM, Hurt H. Attentional functioning and impulse control in cocaine-exposed and control children at age ten years. J Dev Behav Pediatr 2005; 26:42–47. 215. Schroder MD, Snyder PJ, Sielski I, Mayes L. Impaired performance of children exposed in utero to cocaine on a novel test of visuospatial working memory. Brain Cognition 2004; 55:409–412. 216. Stanwood GD, Washington RA, Levitt P. Identification of a sensitive period of prenatal cocaine exposure that alters the development of the anterior cingulate cortex. Cereb Cortex 2001; 111:430–440. 217. Paule MG, Gillam MP, Allen RR, Chelonis JJ. Effects of chronic in utero exposure to cocaine on behavioral adaptability in rhesus monkey offspring when examined in adulthood. Ann NY Acad Sci 2000; 914:412–417. 218. Hurt H, Malmud E, Betancourt L, Braitman LE, Brodsky NL, Giannetta J. Children with in utero cocaine exposure do not differ from control subjects on intelligence testing. Arch Pediatr Adoles Med 1997; 151:1237–1241. 219. Phelps L, Cottone JW. Long-term developmental outcome of prenatal cocaine exposure. J Psychoeducational Assess 1999; 17:343–353. 220. Richardson G. Prenatal cocaine exposure: a longitudinal study of development. Ann NY Acad Sci 1998; 846:144–152. 221. Koren G, Nulman I, Rovet J, Greenbaum R, Loebstein M, Einarson T. Long-term neurodevelopmental risks in children exposed in utero to cocaine. The Toronto adoption study. Ann NY Acad Sci 1998; 846:306–313. 222. Lester BM, LaGasse LL, Seifer R. Cocaine exposure and children: the meaning of subtle effects. Science 1998; 282:633–634. 223. Delaney-Black V, Covington C, Templin T, et al. Expressive language development of children exposed to cocaine prenatally: literature review and report of a prospective cohort study. J Comm Dis 2000; 33:463–481. 224. van Baar A. Development of infants of drug dependent mothers. J Child Psychol Psychiatry 1990; 31:911–920. 225. van Baar AL, Soepatmi S, Gunning WB, Akkerhuis GW. Development after prenatal exposure to cocaine, heroin and methadone. Acta Paediatr Suppl 1994; 404:40–46.

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226. Angelilli ML, Fischer H, Delaney-Black V, Rubinstein M, Ager JW, Sokol RJ. History of in utero cocaine exposure in language-delayed children. Clin Pediatr 1994; 33:514–516. 227. Johnson JM, Seikel A, Madison CL, Foose SM, Rinard KD. Standardized test performance of children with a history of prenatal exposure to multiple drugs/cocaine. J Comm Dis 1997; 30:45–73. 228. Malakoff ME, Mayes LC, Schottenfeld RS. Language abilities of preschool-age children living with cocaine-using mothers. Am J Addict 1994; 3:346–354. 229. Madison CL, Johnson JM, Seikel A, Arnold M, Schultheis L. Comparative study of the phonology of preschool children prenatally exposed to cocaine and multiple drugs and nonexposed children. J Comm Dis 1998; 31:231–244. 230. Delaney-Black V, Covington C, Templin T, Ager J, Martier S, Sokol R. Prenatal cocaine exposure and child behavior. Pediatrics 1998; 102:945–950. 231. Nulman I, Rovet J, Altmann D, Bradley C, Einarson T, Koren G. Neurodevelopment of adopted children exposed in utero to cocaine. Can Med Assoc J 1994; 151:1591–1597. 232. Swanson MW, Streissguth AP, Sampson PD, Olson HC. Prenatal cocaine and neuromotor outcome at four months: effect of duration of exposure. J Dev Behav Pediatr 1999; 20:325–334. 233. Hawley TL, Disney ER. Crack’s children: the consequences of maternal cocaine abuse. Soc Policy Rep Res Child Dev 1992; 6:1–22. 234. Suffet F, Brotman R. Employment and social disability among opiate addicts. Am J Drug Alcohol Abuse 1976; 3:387–395. 235. Tucker MB. A descriptive and comparative analysis of the social support structure of heroin addicted women. Addicted Women: Family Dynamics, Self-Perceptions, and Support Systems. Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1979. 236. Regan D, Leifer B, Finnegan L. Generations at risk: violence in the lives of pregnant drug abusing women. Pediatr Res 1982; 16:91. 237. Boyd C, Mieczkowski T. Drug use, health, family, and social support in “crack”cocaine users. Addict Behav 1990; 15:481–485. 238. McMahon TJ, Rounsaville BJ. Substance abuse and fathering: some final comments on context and process. Addiction 2002; 97:1120–1122. 239. Burns WJ, Burns KA. Parenting dysfunction in chemically dependent women. In: Chasnoff I, ed. Drugs, Alcohol, Pregnancy, and Parenting. London: Kluwer Academic Publishers, 1988:159–171. 240. Lawson M, Wilson G. Addiction and pregnancy: two lives in crisis. Social Work in Health Care 1979; 4:445–457. 241. Fiks KB, Johnson HL, Rosen TS. Methadone-maintained mothers: 3-year-follow-up of parental functioning. Int J Addict 1985; 20:651–660. 242. Mondanaro JE. Women, pregnancy, children, and addiction. J Psychedelic Drugs 1977; 9:59–67. 243. Aron WS. Family background and personal trauma among drug addicts in the United States: implications for treatment. Brit J Addict 1975; 10:295–305. 244. Davis SK. Chemical dependency in women: a description of its effects and outcome on adequate parenting. J Subst Abuse Treat 1990; 7:225–232. 245. Black R, Mayer J. Parents with special problems: alcoholism and opiate addiction. Child Abuse Neglect 1980; 4:45–54. 246. Beeghly M, Frank DA, Rose-Jacobs R, Cabral H, Tronick EZ. Level of prenatal cocaine exposure and infant-caregiver attachment behavior. Neurotoxicol Teratol 2003; 25:23–38. 247. Eiden R. Maternal substance use and mother–infant feeding interactions. Infant Mental Health J 2001; 22:497–511. 248. Mayes L, Feldman R, Granger R, Haynes O, Bornstein MH, Schottenfeld R. The effects of polydrug use with and without cocaine on mother-infant interaction at 3 and 6 months. Infant Behav Develop 1997; 20:489–502.

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249. Johnson AL, Morrow CE, Accornero VH, Lihua X, Anthony JC, Bandstra ES. Maternal cocaine use: estimated effects on mother-child play interactions in the preschool period. J Dev Behav Pediatr 2002; 23:191–202. 250. Molitor M, Mayes L, Ward A. Emotion regulation behavior during a separation procedure in 18-month old children of mothers using cocaine and other drugs. Dev Psychopath 2003; 15:39–45. 251. Ukeje I, Bendersky M, Lewis M. Mother-infant interaction at 12 months in prenatally cocaine-exposed children. Am J Drug Alcohol Abuse 2001; 27:203–224. 252. Gottwald SR, Thurman SK. The effects of prenatal cocaine exposure on mother–infant interaction and infant arousal in the newborn period. Top Early Child Spec Educ 1994; 14:217–234. 253. Burn K, Chetnik L, Burns WJ, Clark R. Dyadic disturbances in cocaine-abusing mothers and their infants. J Clin Psychol 1991; 47:316–319. 254. LaGasse LL, Messenger D, Lester BM, et al. Prenatal drug exposure and maternal and infant feeding behaviour. Arch Dis Child 2003; 88:391–399. 255. Blackwell P, Kirkhart K, Schmitt D, Kaiser M. Cocaine/polydrug-affected dyads: implications for infant cognitive development and mother-infant interaction during the first six postnatal months. J Appl Dev Psych 1998; 19:235–248. 256. Burns KA, Chetnik L, Burns WJ, Clark R. The early relationship of drug abusing mothers and their infants: an assessment at eight to twelve months of age. J Clin Psych 1997; 53:279–287. 257. Eiden RD, Lewis A, Croff S, Young E. Maternal cocaine use and infant behavior. Infancy 2002; 3:77–96. 258. Kochanska G. Emotional development in children with different attachment histories: the first three years. Child Dev 2001; 72:474–490. 259. Belsky J, Pasco Fearon RM. Infant-mother attachment security, contextual risk, and early development: a moderational analysis. Dev Psychopath 2002; 14:293–310. 260. Carlson EA. A prospective longitudinal study of attachment disorganization/disorientation. Child Dev 1998; 69:1107–1128. 261. Hertsgaard L, Gunnar M, Erickson MF, Nachmias M. Adrenocortical responses to the Strange Situation in infants with disorganized/disoriented attachment relationships. Child Dev 1995; 66:1100–1106. 262. Shaw DS, Owens EB, Vondra JI, Keenan K. Early risk factors and pathways in the development of early disruptive behavior problems. Dev Psychopath 1996; 8:679–699. 263. Rodning C, Beckwith L, Howard J. Quality of attachment and home environments in children prenatally exposed to PCP and cocaine. Special issue: attachment and developmental psychopathology. Dev Psychopath 1991; 3:351–366. 264. Espinosa M, Beckwith L, Howard J, Tyler R, Swanson K. Maternal psychopathology and attachment in toddlers of heavy cocaine-using mothers. Infant Mental Health J 2001; 22:316–333. 265. Swanson K, Beckwith L, Howard J. Intrusive caregiving and quality of attachment in prenatally drug-exposed toddlers and their primary caregivers. Attach Hum Develop 2000; 2:130–148. 266. Fonagy P, Gergely G, Jurist E, Target M. Affect Regulation, Mentalization and the Development of the Self. New York: Other Press, 2001. 267. Levy DW, Truman S, Reflective functioning as mediator between drug use, parenting stress and child behavior. College Problems of Drug Dependence, Quebec City, Quebec.

SECTION THREE: EXPOSURE AND OUTCOME ASSESSMENTS

11 Immutable Elements—Variable Effects: Exposure Assessment for Neurotoxic Metals Alan H. Stern Division of Environmental and Occupational Health, University of Medicine and Dentistry of New Jersey, School of Public Health, Piscataway, New Jersey, U.S.A.

INTRODUCTION Among the metals that warrant consideration for their developmental neurotoxic potential, lead (Pb) (1) and mercury (Hg) (2) have clearly been the focus of the greatest attention. Other metals and metalloids, however, also pose at least the potential to cause developmental neurotoxicity, although developmental neurotoxicity may not be the most sensitive toxic endpoint in each case. These include manganese (Mn) (3), arsenic (As) (4), and to a lesser extent cadmium (Cd) (5). Recently, arsenic As has also been associated with reduced intellectual performance in children (6). As discussed below, the metals present unique issues for exposure assessment and pharmacokinetic modeling. Because the exposure assessment and pharmacokinetic considerations for methylmercury (MeHg) have been fairly well characterized, and because MeHg presents many of the exposure assessment complexities encountered among the various neurotoxic metals, this chapter includes a focus on MeHg as a case study from which generalizations applicable to the other developmental neurotoxic metals can be drawn.

GENERAL CONSIDERATIONS FOR METALS Metals are, by definition, elements. That means that metabolism, conjugation, and binding to various organic ligands notwithstanding, the parent metals are not degraded to simpler substances. With minor exceptions, metals are eliminated from the body in either feces or urine. The immutability of metals, can, therefore, be a major advantage in following the exposure or body burden because analysis for the element, itself, in urine, feces, or blood can integrate exposure regardless of the form in which the metal enters or leaves the body. On the other hand, some of the metals of concern exist in different valence states and/or as mixtures of inorganic and organo-metallic compounds (Hg, As, Mn) with different toxicities and pharmacokinetics. In such cases, analysis for the elemental form can obscure 231

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the chemical-specific exposures and burdens. A notable exception is Pb, which largely exists in the body as the PbC2 ion and does not appear to undergo significant changes in valence state or to form organic ligands of toxicological significance in the body. These different valence states and compounds can have highly significant direct and indirect effects on developmental neurotoxicity. The form of the metal can significantly affect its absorption. MeHg is absorbed from the gastrointestinal tract with close to 100% efficiency, while inorganic Hg (HgC2) is, at most, moderately absorbed, and elemental Hg (Hg0) is essentially non-absorbed from the gastrointestinal tract. Although general pharmacologic principles would predict that ionized forms would be poorly absorbed across the gastrointestinal tract and across membranes in general, there does not appear to be a general rule as far as the metals are concerned, and absorption may have more to do with the essentiality of the metal or the ability of metal ions to mimic essential ions. A special case of this is MeHg, where the readily formed MeHg-cystein complex is recognized as the amino acid, methionine, and is actively transported across both the placenta and the blood–brain barrier. It is generally the case though, that absorption of metal salts is mediated by aqueous solubility, and essentially insoluble forms of a metal are not absorbed to any significant extent. Conversions and interconversions of the various forms of these metals can occur in various body compartments. Oxidation of MnC2 and Hg0 take place in the blood, and conversion of MeHg to HgC2, as well as the conversion of inorganic As to methylated As species, occurs largely in the liver. The different forms of a metal may not only display different pharmacokinetics, but they may also have different target organs either as a result of inherently different toxicologic mechanisms or secondary to pharmacokinetic factors. HgC2 is largely excluded from the brain by its relative inability to cross the blood–brain barrier. Thus, although HgC2 is inherently neurotoxic, it primarily affects the kidney where it tends to accumulate, while MeHg, which readily crossed the blood–brain barrier, primarily affects the central nervous system. The form of the metal may also influence its route of elimination. Soluble salts and soluble complexes are generally eliminated in the urine, while unabsorbed material and metals in lipid soluble forms are excreted in the feces. The form of the metal that is excreted may or may not be the form that is ingested or inhaled. Inorganic As is largely eliminated as organic forms, and MeHg is largely eliminated in the feces as HgC2. When exposures to more than one form of a metal occur more or less simultaneously, reconstruction of the individual exposures by analysis of either the elemental form, or of a specific species of the metal in excreta can produce confusing results. The various forms of a metal may also have different half-lives in the body as a whole and in various body compartments (e.g., blood, brain). Therefore, consideration of the relationships between exposure and effect, or attempts to reconstruct exposures from a sample of a biological tissue or fluid, need to consider the specific pharmacokinetics for each species in question. Organics tend to be retained in the body either because they bind strongly to proteins (e.g., serum albumin) or because they are lipophilic and sequester in fatty tissues. Some of the neurotoxic metals have significant protein binding. Pb binds strongly to hemoglobin, and Hg (particularly MeHg) binds strongly to the sulfhydral groups of many proteins including hemoglobin. However, the developmental neurotoxic metals are not particularly lipophilic even considering the organic forms of Mn, As, and Hg. In light of ongoing confusion, it is worth emphasizing here that MeHg is not lipophilic. It tends to distribute more or less uniformly to tissues, with kidney and liver having somewhat elevated levels. Contrary to the expectation for a lipophilic molecule, MeHg concentration is not enriched in human milk relative to inorganic Hg (7,8). The bioconcentration of MeHg in the body as well as its biomagnification in the food change is, rather, a function of the similarity of MeHg–cystein to methionine as well as its general strong proclivity for sulfhydral groups

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including those in the bile, leading to enterohepatic circulation (9). For Pb, although binding to hemoglobin contributes to its retention in the body, the primary factor in the very long half-life of Pb is its sequestration in the bone due to the apparent similarity of the PbC2 ion to the CaC2 ion (1). Intake, retention, and systemic absorption of developmental neurotoxic metals via inhalation tend to be governed by general principles of particulate exposure (i.e., size, solubility, reactivity), or, in the case of Hg0, by general principles of vapor exposure.

GENERAL APPROACHES TO EXPOSURE ASSESSMENT FOR DEVELOPMENTAL NEUROTOXIC METALS The broad field of exposure assessment addresses the entire range of exposure from emissions of substances to the environment, to dispersion in the environment, to contact and uptake by receptors, to distribution within the body, and ultimately to the contact between the substance and a target organ or receptor. For the purposes of elucidating the potential effects of developmental neurotoxic metals, however, we are most directly concerned with those aspects of exposure from uptake to appearance at target organs or tissues. In this context, there are three general applications of exposure assessment, each of which addresses a somewhat different concern. On the clinical level, we may be concerned with determining whether an individual has experienced an exposure of sufficient magnitude to explain existing symptoms, or to require medical intervention. On the population level, we may ask about the characteristic levels of exposure, range of exposure or distribution of exposure in a population in order to determine the risk to the population relative to a standard or guideline, to identify populations appropriate for epidemiologic studies of effect, or to compare different populations in order to investigate whether differing aspects of their environments result in different levels of exposure. Finally, exposure assessment tools, including pharmacokinetic modeling, may be used to relate exposure to adverse health outcomes from epidemiologic studies for the purpose of deriving dose–response relationships that can support risk assessments and risk-based regulatory standards and guidelines. Exposure can be estimated by three types of approaches of increasing specificity with respect to exposure at the level of the individual. At the lowest level of specificity, generalized models are available that attempt to predict population exposure based on measured levels of a contaminant in the environment, and assumptions about rates of contact through various media. The usefulness of such approaches is limited by the validity of the models, by the uncertainty and variability in environmental measurements, and by the uncertainty and variability in the assumed contact rates across the population. Such an approach is best suited to broadly characterizing a population or for generating hypotheses about the impacts of specific contaminant sources in the environment. A more specific approach to estimating exposure of individuals or populations is to obtain data from the individual or population (or more likely from a sample of the population) on rates of contact with contaminated media such as drinking water (e.g., number of glasses of tap water consumed per day), soil (e.g., number of hours spent by children playing in areas with exposed contaminated soil), or diet (e.g., frequency and size of meals of contaminated food). Dietary data are most frequently derived from personal recall questionnaires, but can also be generated from food consumption diaries, and duplicate diet studies. Data on rates of contact can then be combined with estimates of the concentration of contaminants in particular media to estimate the daily intake of contaminants. Such an approach works best when the exposure to the contaminant comes from a single well-defined source such

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as MeHg in fish, as in drinking water, or Pb in soil surrounding a smelter. Even in such cases, however, this approach is limited by uncertainty and variability in the estimated concentration of the contaminant in the media, and by uncertainty and bias in subjects’ recall of the normal and historic contact activity (e.g., How frequently is fish eaten per week?). This may be particularly the case in attempting to apply such an approach to children either through eliciting their direct recall, or by eliciting information from parents. From the standpoint of estimating individual exposure, the most specific approach is biomonitoring, that is, the measurement of contaminants in tissues or excreta of exposed individuals. In general, such measurements can be made with high accuracy. These measurements can be used with few additional considerations if the goal is simply to compare the relative exposure of two similar populations. However, if the goal is to estimate an intake dose (e.g., mg metal/kg body weight/day), then biomonitoring data must be considered in conjunction with a pharmacokinetic model that can relate the measured concentration in a tissue or excreta to intake (e.g., What dose of MeHg would result in a measured concentration of 58 mg of MeHg in blood?). This approach is limited by the accuracy and applicability of the pharmacokinetic model. The fraction of the population that most efficiently transfers an intake dose to the target tissue will be at greater risk from the same dose. Thus, when applied to populations, pharmacokinetic models should be able to estimate not only the average relationship between the intake dose and the measured biological concentration, but should also be able to describe the variability in that relationship in order to derive appropriately protective risk-based standards and guidelines. These considerations are discussed more fully in the National Research Council’s recent report on the toxicology of MeHg (10). Determination of total metal concentration in biological samples for developmental neurotoxic metals is generally a relatively straightforward process given the immutability of the elemental form. Historically, and still for most applications, one of several forms of atomic absorption specrophotemetry (AAS) has been used and provides practically useful detection limits for most concentrations corresponding to environmental exposure of concern. More recently, inductively coupled plasma atomic emission (ICP-AES) and inductively coupled plasma mass spectrometry (ICP-MS) have been successfully used. These methods all require sample extraction or ashing as well as additional sample preparation. For analysis of Hg in hair, X-ray fluorescence (XRF) has been used without extensive sample preparation (11). Analysis of single hair strands was able to elucidate the time course of Hg exposure in the Iraqi poisoning epidemic. Unfortunately, the practical detection limit for this method is larger than most current day exposure of interest. XRF has also been used to measure Pb deposited in bone in situ (1). This approach provides a window into historic and long-term chronic Pb exposures that, due to the turnover of most biologic material, is not available for the other neurotoxic metals. Where toxicity varies significantly for different species of the same metal, analyses yielding the concentration of the total metal can confound estimates of effect, dose–response or risk. However, determination of specific species of a metal is more difficult and generally requires compound-specific methods to separate the various species. These include column separation, and selective reactions with a given species. One common method for determination of MeHg involves separate determinations of inorganic and total Hg indirectly yielding MeHg by difference (12). With the recent elucidation of subtle neuro developmental effects from metals at lower levels of exposure than previously recognized, previously insignificant levels of background laboratory contamination by some of those metals can confound analyses of trace levels in biological material (13). This is particularly a concern for Pb and Mn.

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The determination of which biological material to analyze as an appropriate measure of internal exposure can be complicated. Practical considerations pose the primary limitations for biomarkers of human exposure. Thus, although the concentration of these metals in the developing brain may be the most precise measure of exposures relating to neuro developmental effects, such tissue is rarely accessible. Other organs are likewise rarely available for analysis. Practical choices are generally limited to blood, hair, nails, milk, feces, and urine. Additionally, for Pb, in situ analysis of bone using XRF, and analysis of deciduous teeth provide useful measures of cumulative exposure based on retention of Pb in bone and dentin (14,15). Among these media, the selection of the most appropriate medium involves consideration of a variety of factors. Metal concentration in mother’s milk is clearly the most direct measure of lactational exposure, but is an indirect measure of either maternal or fetal body burden. Some metal species are preferentially eliminated in either urine or feces. MeHg is mostly eliminated in the feces, but HgC2 is almost entirely eliminated in the urine (2). It is, therefore, essential to understand the pharmacokinetics of distribution and elimination of the specific metal species of concern. In blood, the concentration following the initial distribution of an ingested dose among the various body compartments is a useful measure of available metal. However, for metals or species of metals that do not readily cross the blood–brain barrier or the placenta (e.g., HgC2), blood concentration may be an indirect measure, at best, of neuro developmental risk. Most of the other potential biologic media receive their burden of metal from the blood, and are subject to the same limitation. For metal species that do readily cross the blood–brain barrier and/or the placenta, the choice of medium depends, at least in part, on the persistence of a given dose of the metal in a body compartment relative to the duration of the period of vulnerability for the developmental endpoint in question. For chronic, essentially continuous, exposures, such as those that might occur from inhalation of a metal in ambient air from an ongoing source, or from a contaminated drinking water source, the concentration of the metal in any compartment will reach a steady-state, constant concentration in that compartment. In such a case, any compartment to which the metal is significantly distributed will likely provide a measure of ongoing individual exposure. Many exposures of concern, however, such as dietary exposures, occur episodically and with varying doses over time, resulting in peaks of exposure. For metals with relatively long half-lives in blood such as MeHg (approximately 50 days), and correspondingly long half-lives of elimination in urine or feces, concentrations of the metal in these media will tend to reflect average exposure over time. Peaks of exposure, including those that occur during critical windows of fetal development, may not be evident in these media, or may appear as modest increases over the course of repeated samples. On the other hand, for metals with short half-lives in blood such as As (40–60 hr), the blood concentration can reflect specific exposures, and may provide a reasonable indication of peak exposure, but samples need to be taken close to the exposures. This presents a serious practical difficulty. For such metals, blood or excreta do not preserve a useful record of exposure over time. In contrast, for those metals quantitatively retained in hair, hair provides a potential record of exposure over time. MeHg is incorporated into growing hair strands from matrix cells nourished by the blood, and is bound in the hair matrix. Thus, Hg concentration along the hair strand preserves a record of exposure during the period of hair growth at a rate of about 1 cm/mo. Concentration in hair has been used as a measure of As exposure, but the relationship between exposure and hair concentration does not appear to have been fully characterized (4). Hair is a less well characterized biomarker of exposure for Pb and Mn. A consideration with hair samples is that the portion of the hair strand reflecting current exposure requires a period estimated to be 20 days to 6 week to emerge above the scalp. Thus, maternal hair sampled at delivery actual reflects

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exposures no later than the mid-third trimester, and, given the need to obtain a segment of reasonable length, probably reflects exposure extending into the second trimester. Hair also presents potential uncertainties due to both intra- and inter-individual variability in growth rate. This includes differences in growth rate among strands within the same hair sample, changes in morphology and growth rate during pregnancy, and the existence of a resting phase during which there is no active transfer of material from the blood (16–18). Additionally endogenous metals can be lost and exogenous metals (particularly those contained in shampoos and hair care products) can be added to hair strands (19). Considerations for the application of hair samples to exposure assessment in general and to assessment of in utero exposure assessment are discussed in greater detail in the NRC’s report on the toxicology of MeHg (10). Nails are biologically similar to hair, and have been used as a measure of MeHg exposure, but here too, the relationship between nail Hg concentration and exposure has not been well characterized (20). In general, researchers have access to these various media only at specific times such as medical contacts. Often maternal samples and cord blood samples are available only at, or close to, delivery. Depending on the half-life of the specific metal or metal species in blood or excreta, and on the applicability of hair samples, these samples of opportunity may reflect exposure only during a limited period of gestation. Such periods may include portions of neuro development that are vulnerable to the metal in question, but may also include relatively insensitive periods. They may also entirely miss the most vulnerable periods for the given metal. Thus, temporal mismatch between exposure measurements and vulnerable periods of development, a form of exposure misclassification, is always a concern with the use of biomarkers in investigations of in utero neurotoxicity. Furthermore, even if the concentrations of the metal in the available media do reflect exposures during vulnerable periods of development, the tests of neurologic function that are ultimately applied as the measures of effect may not measure the outcomes effected by the metal during the exposure period reflected by the biomarker. Underlying these problems are the relatively large gaps that remain in our knowledge of which neuro developmental functions are vulnerable during which stages of development. This is particularly the case for in utero development (21). More precise information about the temporal occurrence of specific neuro developmental vulnerabilities combined with a better understanding of the toxicological mechanisms of these metals that operate during development will lead to the use and development of more precise exposure assessment tools. There are myriad ways that an exposure measure, including a biomarker measurement, can be mismatched with an outcome, particularly in a relatively large study. It is thus unlikely that in such a study, a given set of exposure measurements will randomly associate with an outcome measurement, and very unlikely that such associations will be repeated across several different outcome measurements. This concept has been stated as “exposure misclassification biases toward the null.” The observation of several statistically meaningful associations, therefore, should be interpreted as an indication of a true association between the exposure reflected in the given exposure metric and the developmental outcome. In light of the current level of imprecision in our application of exposure metrics for neuro developmental toxic metals, the study designs most likely to find true associations between exposure and outcome are those that employ several different measures of exposure. Biomarkers of exposure are generally surrogates for the ultimate, but inaccessible exposure measure of interest. In the case of neuro developmental toxic metals, the ultimate exposure measure is generally either the concentration in the developing brain, or the retrospective maternal or childhood intake dose. When two or more valid biomarkers of exposure are available the choice of which to use should depend, at least in part, on the

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pharmacokinetic relationship between the biomarkers and the exposure that is ultimately being estimated. For example, if the intent is to estimate the maternal intake dose corresponding to an exposure in utero putatively resulting in an observation of reduced neurologic performance, then maternal blood concentration of the metal at the time of fetal developmental vulnerability is pharmacokinetically closer to the maternal intake dose than is fetal cord blood concentration. On the other hand, if the intent is to estimate the concentration in the developing fetal brain, then fetal cord blood concentration of the metal is pharmacokinetically closer to the brain concentration than is maternal blood. In the latter case, however, other factors may also need to be considered. For instance, depending on the half-life of the metal in cord blood (and the fetus’ ability to metabolize and eliminate the metal), cord blood concentration may only reflect a portion of the third trimester of gestation. In such a case, if the developmental effect of concern results from a fetal vulnerability during the second or early third trimester of gestation, the connection between cord blood metal concentration and fetal brain concentration may be pharmacokinetically close, but temporally distant. Metal concentration in maternal hair (or nails) can be thought of as a spur off the pharmacokinetic main line connecting intake and brain. As a route of elimination from blood, it is at least two steps removed from both maternal intake and fetal brain concentration. It is, therefore, a pharmacokinetically more distant measure of either maternal intake or fetal brain concentration than is maternal or cord blood. This, deficit, may, however, be tempered by hair’s ability to retain a measure of exposure over time, providing a possible solution to temporal mismatches between exposure measures and the timing of developmental vulnerabilities.

APPLICATION OF PHARMACOKINETIC MODELS Biomarkers of exposure provide information in the form of concentration of the metal or metal species in a particular tissue or medium. For purposes of comparison of individual values to reference values, or for statistical comparison of the exposure of two or more populations, or for the testing of hypotheses of the relationship between exposure and effect, concentrations, by themselves, may be adequate. Although concentration-response relationships are related to the dose–response relationship, the concentration of a metal in a tissue or compartment is not, by itself, an estimate of dose. Thus, when the goal is to combine exposure data with outcome data to develop dose–response relationships to relate intake to risk, and/or to derive public health strategies, it is necessary to translate the measured metal concentrations to a dose (e.g. mg metal/kg body weight/day). This process of translation requires a pharmacokinetic model (sometimes referred to as a toxicokinetic model). Among their capabilities, these models predict the relationship of an administered dose to the concentration in one or more body compartments and media. Two basic types of pharmacokinetic models exist, physiologically-based pharmacokinetic (PBPK) models and steady-state models. PBPK models combine chemical-specific data on transfer coefficients between blood and individual tissue compartments, and blood flow rates for each compartment and employ simultaneous differential equations to construct a dynamic model of distribution and deposition in all specified compartments simultaneously. Because such models are dynamic, they can predict short-term occurrences such as the change in blood concentration of a metal as it is undergoing distribution among the various compartments. PBPK models can also predict changes in concentration in each compartment as body and organ weight changes occur with growth or pregnancy. Models have also been constructed that address the interconversion among the various metal species. Of particular note, PBPK models have been constructed to predict the changes in

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concentration of metal in fetal and maternal compartments as the fetus grows. The model developed for MeHg by Clewell et al. (22) is a good example of the power of PBPK models. Other examples for As, and Pb are described in their respective ATSDR Toxicological Profiles (1,4). Despite their obvious theoretical strengths, PBPK models have practical limitations. They are, by their nature, data intensive. The data required to populate the model, particularly parameters for transfer coefficients for each body compartment, are often not available in terms of metal and tissue-specific values. These values must be estimated or extrapolated. This is compounded by the need, as discussed above, to produce not only estimates of the central tendency of the relationship between dose and biomarker concentrations, but to also address the population variability in those relationships. This requires that model parameters be not only specific to the metal or metal species of concern, but that they describe the distributional nature of their occurrence in the population. This range of data is rarely available for PBPK model parameters and distributional data as well as central tendency data must often be estimated. Variability estimates are difficult to validate, and it is often unclear how the estimates of variability produced on the basis of these multiple estimates relate to true population variability. The other basic type of pharmacokinetic model is this steady-state model. This approach starts with the limiting assumption that a compartment or set of linked compartments in the body is in kinetic steady-state. That is, that the rate of material entering the compartment (e.g., by ingestion) is equal to the rate of material leaving the system by metabolism, or transfer to another compartment. The condition of steady-state occurs when a substance enters a system at a constant rate and is eliminated at a rate that is a constant percent of the mass of the substance remaining in the system. Steady-state conditions are most applicable to constant or frequent intakes such as inhalation or drinking water exposures. Depending on the frequency of consumption, dietary intakes of the neuro developmental toxic metals may not result in full steady state conditions. The simplest form of the steady-state model is the one-compartment model. Blood is generally the compartment of choice. For metals or metal species with relatively long half-lives in the blood, such as MeHg, irregular or moderately infrequent dietary intake can still result in an approximation of steady state that allows the steady state model to be used with reasonable accuracy. The one-compartment model contains a relatively few parameters. Given the static nature of this model, fixing the value of these parameters, fixes the value of the dose. To estimate the intake dose that gave rise to a measured blood concentration, the model requires the measured concentration, the elimination rate constant (a function of the half-life in blood), the blood volume, the body weight, the fraction of the dose absorbed, and the fraction of the absorbed dose in the blood at steady state. For the neurotoxic metals these parameters are generally reasonably well characterized in terms of central tendency estimates, and existing information may also support development of data-specific distributions of population variability for the parameters. Data may also be available to estimate pregnancy-specific or childhood-specific model parameters that can lead to more developmentally specific estimates of the relationship between concentration and dose. The analysis of Stern (23) is an example of the use of distributional data in the one-compartment steady-state model applied to pregnancy. The one-compartment, steadystate model cannot directly predict relationships outside the modeled compartment. However, empirical ratios can be used to estimate the concentration in other compartments given the concentration in the modeled compartment. For instance, data on the maternal blood-cord blood Hg ratio can be used to estimate the cord blood Hg concentration given the model’s prediction of the maternal blood Hg concentration resulting from a given dose (24). The IEUBK (Integrated Exposure Uptake Biokinetic) model developed by the U.S. EPA is a special case among steady state model. It predicts children’s blood Pb

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concentration starting with concentrations in environmental media. The biokinetic component of the overall model is a linked multiple compartment steady state model that is iteratively calculated over discrete time intervals (25). In general, the trade-off between PBPK models and steady-state models is between model flexibility on the one hand, and model transparency on the other.

MERCURY AS A CASE STUDY Exposure Assessment Approaches Dietary Assessment MeHg exposure is almost exclusively limited to fish consumption. The distinctiveness of fish as a specific food probably makes recall easier than for a food that is more common and eaten more casually. To some extent, this makes dietary assessment more straightforward than for other dietary contaminants such as chlorinated organics that are widely distributed in the diet. Thus, on the one hand, consumers may be able to recall the number, types, and size of fish meals over the course of an extended period such as a week. On the other hand, the relatively infrequent consumption of fish, averaging 1–2 meals per week for most fish consumers (26,27), can lead to recall inaccuracies and bias when attempting to estimate or reconstruct consumption over a longer period of time (27). MeHg exposure has been estimated by three different methods utilizing dietary data. In dietary recall studies, participants are asked to reconstruct their fish consumption over some specific period of time that can extend over several days, to a year (26,27). Shorter recall periods tend to give more accurate recall, but are subject to short-term variations in individuals’ consumption patterns, and tend to underestimate the consumption patterns of infrequent consumers (27,28). Diet diaries kept by participants are not subject to bias or uncertainties in recall. However, given average rates of fish consumption of 1–2 meals per week, reporting generally needs to be conducted over an extended period of time in order to obtain a reasonable estimate of intra-individual variability in consumption. This requires a commitment to persistence on the part of participants. Partial reporting or failure to complete the diaries on the part of some participants can result in biased data. The U.S. EPA (29) has used the two-day diary portion of the Continuing Study of Food Intake by Individuals (CSFII) of the U.S. to estimate Department of Agriculture to estimate fish consumption and MeHg intake in the U.S. population. The short reporting period in this database tends to ensure accurate reporting, but, as with short-term recall data, tends to largely reflect the patterns of frequent consumers. Diet diaries have often been used in conjunction with duplicate diet studies to estimate MeHg exposure (30,31). To estimate MeHg intake from either dietary recall or diet diaries, consumption data must be combined with estimates of the characteristic MeHg for each species of fish consumed. This leads to several different areas of uncertainty. Both sellers and consumers may misidentify the species of fish purchased and consumed. The notion of “characteristic” MeHg concentrations for each species assumes that the source of such information is both geographically precise, and up-to-date. Burger et al. (32) have reported that mean Hg concentrations in some commonly consumed species of commercial fish in New Jersey differ significantly from national U.S. data for the same species of fish reported by the U.S. FDA It is not clear whether these differences result from regional differences in the sources of the commercial fish supply and/or from the differences in the time periods represented by the two databases. In addition, the use of characteristic data on MeHg concentration implies that consumers consume fish with the characteristic or mean MeHg for that

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species. Over time, regression-to-the-mean will tend to result in average exposure levels that do, indeed, reflect exposure to the mean concentration of MeHg in each species consumed. However, for species with a large variance in MeHg concentration, short-term exposures, including those during critical neuro developmental periods, can differ significantly from those estimated on the basis of characteristic concentrations. In duplicate diet studies, participants save a portion of food identical to the portion they consume. The duplicate portions are analyzed for the contaminant of concern, thus eliminating problems with species identification and characteristic concentrations. However, such studies place great demands on participants, particularly when food is consumed outside the house. Participants must be highly motivated and compliance wanes after a few days (33). Duplicate diet studies tend to be of relatively short duration and are thus, subject to the biases inherent in the other short duration studies of fish consumption. A more detailed discussion and comparison of dietary assessment of MeHg exposure can by found in the NRC (10) report on MeHg. Estimates of MeHg exposure based on dietary data have generally been useful for overall characterization of population exposures. They tend to be less used for quantifying individual exposures within a cohort. While there is generally acknowledged to be no “gold standard” in exposure metrics for MeHg, biomarkers of exposure, particularly those that can be temporally related to specific periods of development, are generally viewed as the most precise measures of individual exposure. Estimates of MeHg exposure from dietary data have generally been found to correlate moderately at best with biomarker-based estimates (34,35). Biomarkers of Exposure Blood Hg The mean half-life of MeHg in blood in adults is about 50 days (2). However, there is considerable population variability around this value (36). MeHg concentration in blood thus has the potential to be a practical measure of exposure over a period of weeks to months. Nonetheless, blood MeHg concentration has limitations that must be taken into account for it to be useful in neuro developmental toxicity exposure assessment. For consideration of exposure of the developing fetus in utero, concentration in both maternal blood and fetal cord blood can be measured. Total Hg concentration in blood is a simpler and cheaper analysis than is a MeHg-specific determination. For fish consumers with at least moderate consumption, the blood total Hg concentration will largely reflect MeHg, although the actual proportion will depend on the amount and frequency of fish consumption. In the U.S. population of women of childbearing age, the ratio of MeHg to total Hg was 0.64 comparing the 50th percentiles of exposure of both analyses. However, this ratio was 0.92 at the 90th percentile of exposure (37). For populations with little or no fish consumption, however, inorganic Hg, potentially including a significant contribution from dental amalgam fillings (38), can constitute a large proportion of the total blood Hg concentration. It is, therefore, advisable to consider the extent and variability of fish consumption in the population before using total Hg blood concentration as the sole measure of MeHg exposure. Individuals with relatively frequent fish consumption and little variability in the species consumed will approximate steady state with respect to MeHg concentration in blood, and blood concentrations should remain relatively stable as long major physiological parameters are also stable. For such individuals, the timing of a blood sample for Hg concentration is not a major consideration. Even with frequent consumption and a constant diet, however, pregnancy can alter maternal blood Hg concentrations because of changes in maternal blood volume and body weight, and because of transfer of MeHg from maternal blood to the fetus. For individuals who are

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infrequent consumers, and/or for individuals with irregular consumption of species with high MeHg concentrations, blood Hg concentrations will vary in response to short-term dietary patterns. In the absence of accurate dietary information, blood Hg concentration is a “snapshot” of exposure at a point in time. From such information, it is not possible to determine whether an observed blood Hg concentration reflects average exposure, a shortterm elevation, or a declining concentration. If the goal is to obtain a cross-sectional picture of exposure in a population based on a reasonable sample size, then the “snapshot” nature of the individual observations of blood Hg concentration is not a drawback. However, if the goal is to relate exposure to a neuro developmental outcome or measure, then the “snapshot” nature of blood Hg concentration can lead to exposure misclassification in terms of a temporal mismatch between the time period reflected by the blood Hg concentration and the exposure during the sensitive developmental period reflected in subsequent neurological testing. This is particularly the case for neurotoxic exposure in utero. Although the mean half-life of MeHg in adult blood is about 50 days, there is some suggestion that during the third trimester of pregnancy, the half-life in maternal blood decreases significantly (23). Assuming a 50 day half-life, maternal blood sampled at delivery will reflect exposure from about the second half of the second trimester to the nearly the end of the third trimester. However, all other things being equal, Hg concentration will be most heavily influenced by exposure during the most recent halflife, corresponding to the last half of the third trimester. The situation is somewhat more complicated for the use of cord blood Hg concentration as a biomarker of exposure. MeHg appears to readily cross the placenta from maternal blood. However, the ratio of cord blood to maternal blood at or close to delivery is about 1.7 (24). The larger concentration on the fetal side of the placenta may result from simple differences in hematocrit between maternal and fetal blood, or may indicate differential binding. In addition, it appears that the fetus has little or no ability to metabolize MeHg to inorganic Hg (39). It is, therefore, possible that the half-life of MeHg in fetal blood is longer than in maternal blood. Cord blood Hg concentration may therefore preserve a record of exposure extending somewhat further backward in time compared to maternal blood. Neuro-developmental outcomes affected during the period represented by maternal or cord blood Hg may show meaningful statistical associations with blood Hg concentration. However, the strength of those associations, and the power to detect such associations will diminish the further the vulnerable gestational period is from the last half of the third trimester. In addition to the temporal uncertainty inherent in the exposure information contained in any measurement of blood Hg concentration, there is a general lack of information about the timing of the occurrence of periods of specific neuro developmental sensitivity to MeHg. Therefore, at the present time, the determination of whether either maternal or cord blood Hg is an appropriate biomarker of exposure for use in investigating associations between MeHg exposure and specific adverse neuro developmental outcomes can only be made empirically and retrospectively based on whether the blood Hg concentration predicts meaningful statistical associations with the specific measures of neurologic function or performance employed in a given study. The failure to detect an association may indicate the absence of a causal association, or may indicate that blood Hg was a temporally or pharmacokinetically imprecise exposure metric for that particular study. Hair Hg For determination of MeHg exposure, hair Hg concentration has some unique advantages. MeHg transfers from the blood to the growing hair follicles and binds strongly. This is less the case for inorganic Hg, and hair total Hg is generally 80–90% MeHg even in

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populations with moderate to little fish consumption (34,40,41). Therefore, analysis of total Hg in hair generally provides a close estimate of MeHg concentration, and it is rarely necessary to speciate hair Hg. Sampling of hair is relatively non-invasive. Although the notion of giving a hair sample may initially put off subjects who envision unsightly gouges in their coiffures, hair analysis for Hg requires only about 50 mg of hair, about the width of a matchstick, that is generally sampled from the under layer at the nape of the neck. From the standpoint of MeHg exposure assessment, however, the most salient feature of hair is that it retains a record of MeHg exposure during the entire growth of the follicle. Hair grows at about 1 cm/mo (see Chapter ref. 10 for a detailed discussion of hair growth and its implications for MeHg exposure assessment). In theory then, hair contains a nearly realtime record of MeHg exposure whose time course can be related to the calendar. There are some complexities inherent in this relationship including variability in hair growth rate, and the time lag between incorporation of MeHg in the follicle and its emergence above the scalp (10). This time lag is about 20 days. For developmental effects potentially extending through childhood, this does not pose a significant concern; however, for assessment of MeHg exposure during gestation, this lag means that maternal hair sampled at delivery will not reflect fetal exposure during the end of the third trimester. Analysis of Hg in hair from neonates, and to a lesser extent from infant hair would seem to circumvent this problem and to provide a pharmacokinetically more direct measure of late gestational MeHg exposure, but this biomarker has not been well characterized and is not always available (42,43). If sufficiently long maternal hair strands can be obtained, exposure during most of gestation can be represented. If the entire strand is analyzed together, the resulting Hg concentration will reflect average exposure. To obtain more detailed information on exposure at specific times during gestation, however, requires that hair strands be analyzed in longitudinal portions corresponding to shorter intervals of time. Ideally, continuous determination of Hg concentration along the hair strand would give a real-time record of exposure. Such information could be extremely valuable in allowing investigation of the association of various parameters of exposure with developmental outcomes. In contrast to the standard association of average exposure over most of gestation given by analysis of 8–9 cm long strands, continuous analysis could allow investigations of associations between developmental outcomes and peak exposure, average peak exposures, peak exposure during a given trimester, etc. This could address the still thorny question of whether peak or “bolus” exposures to MeHg during gestation resulting from periodic or episodic meals of sea food with high Hg concentrations are more causally related to adverse developmental outcomes than moderately elevated, but continuous exposure from a constant sea food diet. Cox et al. (11) used XRF to recover essentially continuous information on the time course of exposure in the MeHg poisoning in Iraq in the early 1970s. An added feature of this analysis was that it could be conducted on a single strand of hair, thereby eliminating imprecision due to the misalignment of multiple hair strands. Unfortunately, the XRF methodology used in that study has a relatively large practical detection limit that was sufficient for the large exposures in the Iraqi poisoning, but too large for use with populations with more moderate levels of exposure. To date, more sensitive continuous methods for quantification of Hg in hair have not been applied to exposures assessment of MeHg exposed populations. However, techniques such as laser ablation (44) appear to hold promise for the application of continuous hair strand analysis of Hg to dose–response assessment of populations at current levels of exposure. More commonly, information about the time course of exposure to MeHg is recovered from hair by segmental analysis. In this approach, sections from a bunch of aligned hair strands are analyzed separately. Usually, 1–3 cm sections are cut, corresponding to 1 month’s to one trimester’s worth of exposure. By comparing the

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Hg concentration among sections, this approach can provide information about the variability of exposure over time. However, while this may provide evidence of the existence of peak exposures, the actual magnitude of putative peak exposures resulting from individual high MeHg meal or several such meals over a short period of time cannot be determined. This results partly from the difficulty in accurately aligning hair strands within a bunch. However, the more fundamental problem is that analysis of hair segments even as short as 1 cm averages periods of increasing and declining concentration along with the corresponding peak concentration. Information on peak exposure is thus “smeared.” Analysis of segments shorter than 1 cm has generally not been practical. A more detailed analysis of this problem is presented in the NRC (10) report. One potential advantage of hair for MeHg exposure analysis is that it has the potential to provide some information on neonatal and infant exposure. Samples obtained from children less than one-year old could, depending on the length of their hair, reflect exposure at or close to birth. As with blood Hg, given the various uncertainties involved, the determination of whether hair Hg is the an appropriate choice of exposure metric for investigating associations between exposure and neuro developmental outcomes can only be made retrospectively within a given study. Milk Hg For assessment of lactational exposure to MeHg, the Hg concentration of breast milk is an obvious exposure metric. However, lactational exposure is a good example of the importance of addressing the forms of neuro developmental metals at the point of exposure. Milk is derived from maternal plasma. MeHg in the blood tends to bind preferentially to erythrocytes, while inorganic Hg is enriched in the plasma. The inorganic Hg in the plasma reflects not only sources of direct inorganic Hg exposure such as dental amalgams, but also the metabolism of MeHg. Thus, compared to whole blood, milk will tend to be enriched in inorganic Hg (7). In one study of fish consumers in Sweden, for instance, the mean organic Hg (essentially MeHg) concentration in maternal blood was six times the mean concentration in mother’s milk (45). Thus, breast feeding significantly increases infants’ exposure to MeHg, but there is only a moderate correlation of total Hg in maternal milk and total Hg in infants’ hair (reflecting largely MeHg body burden) (43). Overall, the extent of MeHg-specific exposure is considerably less than would be estimated based on measurement of total Hg concentration in either maternal blood or milk. Milk, like hair, can be thought of as a pathway of maternal MeHg elimination. Blood Hg concentrations in lactating women are characteristically lower than in non-lactating women. Therefore, it is important to identify lactating women when characterizing population-based exposure through hair or blood Hg concentration. Nail Hg Nails are biochemically closely related to hair. Nails similarly appear to retain a record of MeHg exposure, Toenails are generally preferred to fingernails probably because they are assumed to be less exposed to exogenous contamination, and because they are less frequently trimmed. Toenail Hg concentration has been shown to reflect fish consumption (20,46). With an average growth rate of about 0.1 cm/mo, toenails have the potential to integrate long term exposure in a single clipping. This telescoping of exposure information can be an advantage in studies of exposure over extended periods of development where long-term average exposure may be the most appropriate metric. However, it is likely to be a disadvantage for identifying exposures over shorter and specific time periods such as those occurring during windows of vulnerability in gestation. To date, toenails have not

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been well characterized as a biomarker of MeHg exposure. There is no model for relating intake dose to toenail concentration, nor is there a clear relationship between toenail Hg concentration and the corresponding concentration in either hair or blood (47,48). Toenail Hg has been used as the measure of exposure in two large scale epidemiological studies of MeHg and cardiovascular disease in adult men (49,50), but it does not appear to have been employed in studies of the neuro developmental effects of MeHg. Further characterization of this biomarker could enable it as another useful tool for the exposure assessment of MeHg.

Recent Applications of MeHg Neuro-Developmental Exposure Assessment Population-Based Exposure Assessment The U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) has conducted an ongoing assessment of Hg exposure in the U.S. population of young children (1–5 years old) and women of childbearing age (16–49 years old) through its National Health and Nutrition Examination Survey (NHANES). The general purpose of this assessment is to describe and track the distribution of MeHg exposure in the sensitive population. A more specific focus of assessment has been to gauge the fraction of the sensitive population that exceeds the U.S. EPA Reference Dose (RfD) for MeHg of 0.1 mg/kg body weight/day. The RfD is the U.S. EPA’s estimate of the virtually safe dose for the most sensitive groups in the population (51). The Hg exposure assessment was originally embedded in CDC’s multichemical assessment of biomarkers, the first of which was based on NHANES data collected in 1999 (52), and the second of which used NHANES data from the period 1999–2000 (53). Subsequent data collection through NHANES focused more specifically on Hg and updated the assessment through 2002 (54). Both blood Hg concentration (52–55) and hair Hg concentration (52,56) were measured. As concentrations, neither measure is directly comparable to the RfD. Conclusions about the extent of exceedance of the RfD were based on the predictions of the one-compartment pharmacokinetic model that give a rough correspondence between the steady-state intake of MeHg at the RfD and blood and hair Hg concentrations of 5.8 mg/L and 1.0 mg/g respectively. Based on the blood Hg data 6–8% women of childbearing age exceeded the RfD. Based on the hair Hg data, about 10% exceeded the RfD. The differences in these estimates can be attributed to the different exposure information provided by these two metrics and the uncertainties inherent in estimating the intake dose corresponding to each concentration. These differences are instructive of the limitations in the use of these exposure metrics. The blood Hg data spans four years. The lower estimate of the fraction of the population exceeding the RfD comes from the most recent data. There is, however, no clear statistical trend. It should be kept in mind that these summary estimates of national exposure may obscure significant regional differences, particularly differences in fish consumption. Data on hair Hg from pregnant women and women of childbearing age in New Jersey suggests that coastal areas have higher rates of fish consumption and correspondingly higher exposures to MeHg than the national average (26,34). Because the MeHg RfD was derived on the basis of a dose–response relationship that is specific for exposure during gestation, it does not relate specifically to the virtual safe dose for post-natal exposure. Nonetheless, it has been used as a convenient benchmark for assessing the relative magnitude of childrens’ exposure. At the 95th percentile, the highest percentile of the population distribution reported, childrens’ blood Hg concentrations did not exceed the concentration corresponding to the RfD in any of the years of the CDC data. In general, children’s blood

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Hg concentration was 20–35% that of women of childbearing age. Likewise, childrens’ hair Hg concentration did not exceed the value corresponding to the RfD. Children’s hair concentrations were about 30–60% that of women of childbearing age with most values in the upper end of this range. It is not entirely clear why the childrens’ hair Hg concentrations were generally closer to the women’s values than were the children’s blood Hg concentrations. It is possible that this apparent discrepancy results from the fact that analysis of hair tends to reflect average exposure whereas blood analysis reflects a more current picture of the exposures status. For infrequent consumers of fish, hair samples will be less influenced than blood samples by a period of non-consumption concurrent with the time of sampling. Therefore, given that in general, children tend to consume fish less often than adults, the comparison of hair concentrations would tend to show better agreement between children’s exposure and adult exposure. Nonetheless, this discrepancy again points out the limitations and uncertainties inherent in the use of a single biomarker of MeHg exposure. The Key Cohort Studies There have been three cohort studies that have played a key role in the development of the current RfD for MeHg. In each study, fetal exposure was estimated on the basis of sampling at, or close to, delivery. A detailed discussion of exposure assessment in these studies can be found in the section on Dose Estimation in the NRC (10) report. In the New Zealand study (57,58), 9 cm of maternal hair closest to the scalp was sampled. The analysis relating hair total Hg concentration and performance on neuro developmental tests at 4 years and again at 6 years of age was based on the average concentration of Hg in the entire 9 cm sample. Measures of post-natal exposure were not investigated. In addition, for a subset of the mothers, the full length hair sample was segmented into 91 cm pieces, and the segmental analysis was used to give a rough estimate of the variability of exposure during gestation. As discussed previously, 9 cm of hair sampled at delivery represents approximately 9 months of exposure, but does not include the last portion of the third trimester. It does, however, include at least several weeks of maternal exposure prior to conception that may be only indirectly related to fetal exposure. In the Seychelles Child Development Study (SCDS) (41), 9 cm of hair was likewise sampled from mothers at delivery, and a second sample intended to reflect the same period of exposure was obtained from most subjects 6 months later. It is not entirely clear how or whether these samples were combined. In addition, the 9 cm hair sample was segmented based on an estimate of the portions representing the trimesters of gestation. In the initial assessments of the relationship between exposure and developmental performance at 6 mo, 1.6 years, and 2.4 years of age, the measure of exposure was the average concentration of total Hg in 9 cm of maternal hair. Follow-up investigations of this cohort at 5.5 years and 9 years of age each sampled the 1 cm of hair closest to the child’s scalp from at least a portion of the subjects as an estimate of concurrent exposure (59–62). Concurrent and maternal hair samples were used in statistical analysis of developmental test scores to assess the influence of gestational and post-natal MeHg exposure on performance. In the studies conducted in the Faroe Islands, both maternal hair and cord blood total Hg concentrations were employed as measures of gestational MeHg exposure (63). Children’s hair total Hg was also collected at 1 years and 7 years of age, and used to investigate the potential influence of pre-natal and post-natal MeHg exposure on performance at 7 years of age (64). The maternal hair samples were not of uniform length and varied from 3–9 cm. Umbilical cord blood total Hg collection was uniform, and straightforward. These measures of exposure were employed to investigate the

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relationship between gestational exposure and neuro developmental test performance at 7 years of age. Subsequent assessments of this cohort at 7 and 14 years old for neurophysiological function, and autonomic cardiovascular parameters potentially affected during development employed concurrently sampled hair total Hg as measures of postnatal MeHg exposure as well as the original cord blood total Hg concentrations (65– 67). MeHg exposure in a second Faroese cohort has also been assessed using maternal hair, and cord blood total Hg (68). One of the critical questions in assessing the influence of MeHg on neurologic development is the potential importance of peak, or bolus, exposures compared to average exposure over the course of gestation. It is, therefore, unfortunate that detailed dietary assessments of MeHg intake for the cohorts in these key studies were either not conducted or (in the case of the New Zealand study) not reported. Given the current inability of both the hair and blood measures of exposure to precisely quantify short-term peak exposures in utero, dietary data would have been useful in identifying those children who were subject to such exposures. Hair or Blood? There is an ongoing discussion in the literature as to the most informative biomarker for investigating the relationship between gestational MeHg exposure and neurodevelopmental effects. In part, this discussion is driven by speculation about the role of biomarker selection in the apparent discrepancy between the results of the SCDS and the Faroes study. As discussed previously, the more distant two pharmacokinetic parameters are, the more variable will be the relationship between them. Thus, maternal hair would be expected to be the most precise measure of the maternal intake dose, whereas fetal cord blood would be the most precise measure of the dose to the fetal brain during the third trimester. When exposure during other periods of gestation are considered, however, the picture is less clear. Cernichiari et al. (69) argued that, based on comparisons of the concentration of total Hg in autopsy samples from infants of unspecified age, the proximal 1 cm of maternal hair total Hg was a better statistical predictor of infant brain total Hg than either maternal blood total Hg, or infant blood total Hg. This is taken as evidence that maternal hair Hg is a more precise measure of fetal brain MeHg exposure than is fetal cord blood Hg. The interpretation of these data is, however, uncertain. First, it should be noted that, to the extent that we are interested in the developing fetus, infant brain, and infant blood, are, at best, surrogates for the tissues of primary interest. Differences in physiology and developmental status make quantitative comparisons between fetal tissue and infant tissue uncertain. Second, the statistical basis for identifying maternal hair Hg rather than infant blood Hg as the better predictor of infant brain Hg is ambiguous. The correlation coefficients for blood and hair Hg with infant brain Hg are, in fact, similar. The error of the regression slope estimate for hair is much larger (as would be expected on the basis of increased pharmacokinetic variability), while at the same time, the coefficient of variation is smaller (10,69). Another way to look at this question is to examine the ability of each measure to explain outcomes of interest in neuro development performance. As discussed previously, in studies such as these, it is more likely that an observed association between a measure of exposure and a measure of performance reflects a true relationship than that such an association occurs merely by chance. In the Faroes study, both maternal hair and cord blood Hg concentration were investigated as dependent variables in regression analyses of neuro developmental test performance. These measures showed a very similar pattern of association with test scores. In most, but not all cases, cord blood Hg gave slightly larger regression coefficients and smaller p-values (10). The overall similarity in the picture of association suggests that both measures were reflective of a valid underlying

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association. On the other hand, the stronger association with cord blood for most of the outcomes suggests that for these outcomes, cord blood was the more direct measure of the effects of MeHg on the fetal brain. However, it is important to keep in mind that hair and cord blood Hg do not measure the same exposures either temporally or pharmacokinetically. Thus, it is significant that for some of the tests, maternal hair provided the stronger association. We may hypothesize that the tests that are more strongly associated with hair Hg concentration reflect aspects of fetal neurodevelopment that are, in one or more ways, different from those that are more strongly associated with cord blood Hg. Unfortunately, the Faroes study was the only major cohort study to employ both hair and cord blood measures of MeHg exposure. It would be premature to conclude that cord blood Hg is, in general, the best measure for investigating the neuro developmental effects of gestational exposure to MeHg. Furthermore, it may well be the case that the “best” exposure measure will depend on the specific endpoints investigated. Given that the interaction of MeHg with neurodevelopment is both uncertain and likely to be complex, the most robust study designs will be those that employ multiple measures of MeHg exposure potentially including maternal and children’s hair; maternal, children’s, and cord blood; and dietary assessment. Dose Reconstruction Risk assessment for the neuro developmental effects of MeHg has developed in a manner that requires exposure assessment to function in two different ways. The first of these involves the estimation of the relationship between a biomarker (e.g., hair Hg, blood Hg) and a neurodevelopmental outcome. Based on the data from the Faroes cohort, the lower 95% percent confidence interval on the Hg concentration in cord blood corresponding to a doubling of the population in the lowest 5% of performance was identified using the benchmark dose approach (10,70). This concentration (58 mg/L Hg in the NRC analysis; 10) then served as a point-of-departure for the derivation of a RfD. Having thus related biomarker concentration to effect, it is then necessary to relate the biomarker concentration to the maternal intake dose in order to structure risk-based information in a way that lends itself to public health assessments and public health strategies. This has been referred to as “dose reconstruction.” (10). As discussed previously, relating tissue concentration to dose requires a pharmacokinetic model. This relationship is inherently variable in a population. For a fixed cord blood Hg concentration (i.e., the point-of-departure), the intake dose giving rise to that concentration is realistically described as a probability distribution. The pharmacokinetic model that describes this relationship should, therefore, be able to predict this variability. In order to do this, the input parameters to the model should, themselves, be characterized as probability distributions. Estimates of the variability in the MeHg maternal intake dose giving rise to 58 mg Hg/L in cord blood from a PBPK model and two independent analyses of the one-compartment model showed reasonably good agreement (71). However, these analyses showed less agreement when the central tendency estimates of the intake dose from these analyses were compared. In part, this reflected the fact that these analyses were not necessarily specific in selecting input data that were specific either to pregnancy in general or more specifically, to the third trimester of pregnancy (as the period most closely related to the concentration of Hg in cord blood). In addition, these analyses did not address differences between Hg concentration in maternal and cord blood. A recent re-analysis using the one-compartment model (23) has addressed these issues. The extent of variability estimated by this analysis is instructive. The estimate of the maternal MeHg

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intake dose giving rise to 58 mg Hg/L in cord blood for the population at the lowest 5% of the range of doses (i.e., the 95th percentile of the population) was 37% of the estimated median dose in the population. For the population in the lowest 1% of the range of doses (i.e., the 99th percentile) the estimated dose was only 25% of the median dose. Interestingly, the largest single component of this variability was the variability in the relationship between maternal blood Hg and cord blood Hg concentration (24). Thus, as discussed previously, when the model must account for an additional transfer of MeHg between pharmacokinetic compartments, with a resulting increase in the pharmacokinetic distance between the dose and the biomarker tissue concentration, the variability in the relationship between the dose and the biomarker concentration, likewise, increases.

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12 Studying the Relation Between Pesticide Exposure and Human Development Dana B. Barr National Center for Environmental Health, Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, Atlanta, Georgia, U.S.A.

Asa Bradman Center for Children’s Environmental Health, School of Public Health, University of California, Berkeley, California, U.S.A.

Natalie Freeman Center for Environmental and Human Toxicology, College of Veterinary Medicine and College of Public Health and Health Professions, University of Florida, Gainesville, Florida, U.S.A.

Robin M. Whyatt Department of Environmental Health Sciences, Mailman School of Public Health, Columbia University, New York, New York, U.S.A.

Richard Y. Wang National Center for Environmental Health, Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, Atlanta, Georgia, U.S.A.

Luke Naeher College of Public Health, University of Georgia, Athens, Georgia, U.S.A.

Brenda Eskenazi Center for Children’s Environmental Health, School of Public Health, University of California, Berkeley, California, U.S.A.

INTRODUCTION Approximately 888 million pounds of conventional pesticides (excluding chlorine disinfectants, specialty biocides) are used annually in the United States (2). An additional 800 million pounds of wood preservatives are used annually (2). Approximately 78% are used in agriculture; 10% in homes and gardens; and the remainder in government, commercial or industrial applications. Herbicides constitute the bulk of conventional pesticides used (44%), and insecticides (10%), fungicides (6%) and other insecticides (40%) make up the remainder (2). In 2001, approximately 73 million pounds of organophosphorus (OP) insecticides were used annually (2). Although some agricultural 253

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uses of OP insecticides were restricted in 2001, overall use in this sector has not changed in recent years. As a percentage of total insecticide use, OP insecticide use increased from 58 to 70% between 1980 and 2001 (2). However, residential uses of chlorpyrifos and diazinon, two common OP insecticides, were eliminated in 2001 and 2002, respectively (3), although they remain widely used in agriculture. Malathion and acephate remain widely used residential OP insecticides. Carbamate insecticides also are used widely in both residential and agricultural applications. Synthetic pyrethroids, and to some extent nicotinyl insecticides, have largely replaced residential uses of OP insecticides and are now the dominant class of insecticides used in homes and gardens (4). Before the burgeoning use of OP, carbamate, and pyrethroid insecticides in the last three decades, organochlorine (OC) insecticides were used widely. Some OC insecticides used in the past include p,p 0 -dichlorodiphenyltrichloroethane (p,p 0 -DDT), dieldrin, and several isomers of hexachlorocyclohexane. Because of their detrimental effects on wildlife (5–10) and suspected harmful effects in humans (11), most OC insecticides were banned for use in the United States and many other developed countries by the 1980s. However, many of the OC insecticides persist for years in the environment and human tissue (12–16), and thus are still of concern. Only a few OC pesticides, including lindane and endosulfan, are used in U.S. agriculture. The current widespread use of pesticides and the persistent nature of pesticides used earlier have resulted in their widespread exposure to the U.S. population. For example, insecticide contamination in residential environments, including air, dust, and surfaces, has been documented in a variety of urban and rural environments (17–19). Detectable insecticide residues were found in approximately 47% of the fruit and vegetable samples tested as part of market-basket surveys by the USDA in 2002 (20). Finally, biomonitoring studies have shown that young children, pregnant women, and fetuses are directly exposed to insecticides on a regular basis (19,21–31), including OC, OP, and pyrethroid insecticides, all of which are neurotoxic chemicals. Developing fetuses and young children are a uniquely vulnerable population. Young children spend most of their time indoors (32), have extensive hand-to-mouth contact (33), and are often on dusty floors or in other microenvironments contaminated with pesticides. Young children also eat, drink, and breathe more air per unit of body weight than do adults (34). This combination of behavior and physiology results in higher exposures to young children than to adults in the same environment. The fetus can be exposed in utero by transplacental transfer (19). It is more susceptible to the neurotoxic effects of pesticide exposures (34). For example, levels of cholinesterase and paraoxonase, enzymes which modify the toxicity of OP insecticides, are much lower in umbilical cord blood (35–38), suggesting that very young children are more vulnerable to these exposures. Finally, fetuses and children develop rapidly, with critical developmental windows when they are particularly vulnerable to insecticide exposures. Studying the relation between pesticide exposure and disease outcomes in children is challenging, especially when research focuses on current-use pesticides that involve transient exposures by compounds that have short half-lives in the body (39–41). For example, organophosphate and pyrethroids are metabolized and excreted in the urine within hours to days after an exposure (4,42–47). Thus, in epidemiologic studies, exposures must be assessed frequently during the prenatal, perinatal, and early postnatal periods (39,41). In this chapter, we provide a brief overview of neurotoxic effects of insecticides and then focus on the exposure assessment issues that must be considered in epidemiologic studies of insecticides and neurobehavioral outcomes in young children. We focus on currently used insecticides (Table 1), primarily OP, carbamate, and pyrethroid insecticides; however, we also include information about some banned

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Selected Neurotoxic Insecticides and Their Primary Mode of Action

Mode of action

Insecticide

Modulates function of DDT and metabolites voltage-gated sodium channels (DDE, DDD) Permethrin Cypermethrin Deltamethrin Resmethrin Allethrin Bioallethrin Cyfluthrin Fenvalerate Esfenvalerate Sumithrin AChE inhibitor Azinphos methyl Chlorethoxyphos Chlorpyrifos Chlorpyrifos methyl Coumaphos Dichlorvos Diazinon Dicrotophos Dimethoate Disulfoton Ethion Fenitrothion Fenthion Isazaphos-methyl Malathion Methidathion Methyl parathion Naled Nitrofen Oxydemeton-methyl Parathion Phorate Phosmet Pirimiphos-methyl Sulfotepp Temephos Terbufos Tetrachlorviphos Carbaryl Propoxur Carbofuran Benfuracarb Carbosulfan Furathiocarb Pirimicarb Bendiocarb Aldicarb Methomyl

Class Organochlorine pesticides Pyrethroid insecticides Pyrethroid insecticides Pyrethroid insecticides Pyrethroid insecticides Pyrethroid insecticides Pyrethroid insecticides Pyrethroid insecticides Pyrethroid insecticides Pyrethroid insecticides Pyrethroid insecticides Organophosphorus insecticides Organophosphorus insecticides Organophosphorus insecticides Organophosphorus insecticides Organophosphorus insecticides Organophosphorus insecticides Organophosphorus insecticides Organophosphorus insecticides Organophosphorus insecticides Organophosphorus insecticides Organophosphorus insecticides Organophosphorus insecticides Organophosphorus insecticides Organophosphorus insecticides Organophosphorus insecticides Organophosphorus insecticides Organophosphorus insecticides Organophosphorus insecticides Organophosphorus insecticides Organophosphorus insecticides Organophosphorus insecticides Organophosphorus insecticides Organophosphorus insecticides Organophosphorus insecticides Organophosphorus insecticides Organophosphorus insecticides Organophosphorus insecticides Organophosphorus insecticides Carbamate insecticides Carbamate insecticides Carbamate insecticides Carbamate insecticides Carbamate insecticides Carbamate insecticides Carbamate insecticides Carbamate insecticides Carbamate insecticides Carbamate insecticides (Continued)

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Table 1 Selected Neurotoxic Insecticides and Their Primary Mode of Action (Continued) Mode of action Modified function of nicotinic ACh receptors Blocks GABA receptor

Insecticide Imidacloprid Acetamiprid Nitenpyram Fipronil

Class Nicotinyl insecticide Nicotinyl insecticide Nicotinyl insecticide Phenylpyrazole insecticide

Abbreviations: ACh, acetylcholine; AChE, acetylcholinesterase; GABA, gamma-aminobutyric acid.

OC insecticides (Table 1) because the potential for exposure to these insecticides or their degradates remains. TOXICOLOGY OP and Carbamate Insecticides The acute toxic effects of OP and carbamate insecticides result from the inhibition of acetyl cholinesterase (AChE) in the nervous system, causing an accumulation of the neurotransmitter acetylcholine at neuronal junctions that leads to continued stimulation then suppression of neurotransmission (43). Neither carbamate nor OP insecticides irreversibly inhibit AChE unless the bound moiety is aged by the loss of alkyl side chains; however, the duration of inhibition by OP insecticides is longer than that for carbamate insecticides (43). Among adults with exposure to OP and carbamate insecticides in occupational settings, the neurotoxic effects of exposure have been well documented (48–54). The neurotoxic effects consist of suppression of cholinesterase activity in the central nervous system and peripheral nervous system, the development of progressive peripheral neuropathies caused by the phosphorylation and inhibition of neurotoxic esterase, and finally respiratory paralysis and limb ataxia (49). Symptoms associated with acute, high-dose exposures include reduction in blood cholinesterase activity leading to muscarinic and nicotinic manifestations, which can be demonstrated as parasthesias, disturbances of visual function, cognitive difficulties, anxiety, muscle weakness, numbness, ataxia, paralysis, and respiratory distress. Long-term effects following acute exposure include muscular atrophy of the ataxic limbs (49,51), short-term memory loss, delayed polyneuropathies, and Parkinsonism (50,52,53). Responses to low-dose, chronic exposures tend to be more diffuse and nonspecific, including headaches, fatigue, anxiety, emotional reactivity, drowsiness, insomnia, loss of concentration and attention span, impaired memory, and visual function (50,52,54). During development, however, neurologic effects of OP and carbamate insecticide exposure, even at low levels, may be more detrimental (55). Modulation of acetylchloline levels in utero during nervous system development may be of particular concern. Neurotransmitters, including acetylcholine, play essential roles in the cellular and architectural development of the brain (56). Moreover, pregnancy is a time of increased risk because plasma AChE activity is already reduced during the first two trimesters (57,58). Depending on the stage of development, the same neurotransmitter can promote cell replication, elicit a switch from replication to differentiation, promote or arrest cell growth, evoke apoptosis or program genes that determine future responsiveness of the cell to external stimulation (56). Experimental data confirm that AChE inhibition disrupts these processes, including effects on cell replication and differentiation, axonogenesis and synaptogenesis (59–62). Finally, these processes can also be disrupted through

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noncholinergic mechanisms that involve alterations in the expression and function of nuclear transcription factors (63). Although immature animals recover more rapidly from AChE inhibition (64), tests on young rodents show greater susceptibility to OP insecticides that decreases with age (34,65–67). In several animal studies, the lethal dose in immature animals was up to two orders of magnitude lower than the adult dose (68–70). Young animals may be susceptible because of lower activity of detoxifying enzymes (paraoxonase or chlorpyrifos-oxonase) that deactivate OP metabolites (37,65,71–75). In one human study, Berkowitz et al. (76) reported an association between chlorpyrifos metabolites in maternal urine samples during pregnancy and infant head circumference at birth among infants of mothers with low paraxonase activity (76). In addition, polymorphisms in other metabolically important genes (e.g., various P450 enzymes, GSTM1, GSTP1) may be relevant to toxicities associated with early-life exposures to insecticides. Nervous system ontogeny can be divided into: (1) early brain development (i.e., first trimester in humans); and (2) the brain growth spurt (i.e., third trimester through the first two years of life in humans, when there is extensive axonal and dendritic growth, synaptogenesis, proliferation of glial cells, and myelinization) (56,61–64,77,78). Toxicants introduced during the early period can cause malformations, whereas those introduced in the later period can result in behavioral and cognitive changes, such as in learning and memory (79–81). In rodents, the cholinergic transmitter system undergoes rapid development during the later phase, the first 3–4 wk after birth (82). Given the diversity of mechanisms and target tissues, the developing brain is likely to be vulnerable from early embryonic life into childhood (55,56,63,83,84). Many OP insecticides are reasonably lipophilic and readily cross the placental barrier (19,85). Considerable evidence in animals links exposure to OP insecticides in utero or the early postnatal period with adverse neurodevelopment (86,87). Pyrethroid Insecticides and DDT Other major insecticide classes that are replacing home and some agricultural uses of OP and carbamate insecticides are natural pyrethrins and synthetic pyrethroids (4). Pyrethrins are naturally occurring insecticides found in a variety of plants such as chrysanthemums (4). Synthetic pyrethroids are human-made derivatives of pyrethrins, designed to be more chemically potent and environmentally stable (88). Like most other classes of insecticides, the pyrethroids are acute neurotoxicants (89–91), and although dissimilar in structure and environmental persistence to DDT, their modes of action are strikingly similar (89,92). Pyrethroid insecticides and DDT modulate the function of voltage-gated sodium channels (93). Specifically, they alter the permeability of excited nerve cells to sodium ions and cause repetitive nerve impulses which can vary between a few dozen for the less toxic noncyano substituted pyrethroids (Type I pyrethroids) to up to a thousand for the more toxic cyano substituted pyrethroids (Type II pyrethroids) (89–91). They also have other neurobiologic actions, including affects on central g-amino butyric acid (GABA), noradrenergic and dopaminergic or chlolinergic neurotransmission (94). In general, pyrethroids are considered among the lower toxicity insecticides, in part because mammals have higher levels of the enzymes that detoxify pyrethroids than do insects, and pyrethroids are rapidly metabolized and excreted in mammalian systems (95). However, detoxification enzymes (e.g., carboxyesterases) involved in metabolism of pyrethroids are much lower during fetal and early postnatal development than they are later in life (96,97), suggesting that young children may be more susceptible to adverse effects than adults.

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In humans, pyrethroid insecticides are metabolized by esterases, mainly in the liver, and the metabolites are renally eliminated with a half-life of about 6 hr (98). Acute high doses of pyrethroid insecticides can cause nervous system effects such as lack of coordination, tremors, vomiting, diarrhea, and irritability. Pyrethroid insecticides can also be skin and respiratory irritants (4). Experimental data in laboratory rodents have shown that the pyrethroid esfenvalerate can cause short-term behavioral effects in adult rodents (94). Other Neurotoxic Insecticides New insecticides are continually being developed to overcome many problems, such as mammalian toxicity and pest resistance, encountered with previous insecticides. Two insecticide classes introduced in the last decade include phenylpyrazole and nicotinyl insecticides (95). These insecticides are selectively more toxic to insects than to mammals. Phenylpyrazole insecticides, such as fipronil, have been shown to block insect GABA receptors which differ from those of vertebrates (99). Nicotinyl insecticides, such as imidacloprid, block the nicotinergic neuronal pathway that is more abundant in insects than in mammals (95). This blockage leads to the accumulation of acetylcholine, resulting in the insect’s paralysis, and eventually death. HUMAN STUDIES ON THE NEUROTOXIC EFFECTS OF PESTICIDES IN CHILDREN As reviewed above, numerous animal studies have demonstrated the potential for in utero or early insecticide exposure to impact human neurodevelopment (86). In addition, acute poisonings in children result in neurologic impairment (100). However, few studies have assessed the neurobehavioral functioning of infants and children who have been exposed to either low levels of OC (Table 2) or OP (Table 3) insecticides (101–106) and no studies that have examined the impact of other insecticide groups such as carbamates or pyrethroids. For the most part, the few studies that have been conducted are inconclusive because of methodologic limitations or the unknown long-term impact of early findings on later neurodevelopment or because they have not yet been replicated. OC Insecticides In an early investigation of a large North Carolina birth cohort with 1980s background exposure, Rogan et al. (101) demonstrated that p,p 0 -dichlorodiphenyldichloroethene (DDE) levels derived from measurements in cord serum and in breast milk were doserelated to hyporeflexia noted on the Brazelton Neonatal Behavioral Assessment Scale (BNAS). The infants were assessed once and most were assessed within the first week but up to one month of life. The long-term implications of abnormal reflexes on neurodevelopment are not known. In addition, these findings were not confirmed by Stewart et al. (107) in an Oswego birth cohort of neonates evaluated twice on the Brazelton scale in the first two days of life. However, this study was considerably smaller than the North Carolina study. Also, the Oswego infants likely had lower exposure to DDE given the later date of study (DDT was banned in the United States in 1972). In a follow-up study of the North Carolina birth cohort, DDE serum levels were associated with better performance on the Mental Developmental Index (MDI) of the Bayley Scales of Infant Assessment in the 6 mo olds but not when they were 12 mo old (108) and on the Psychomotor Developmental Index (PDI) at 18 and 24 mo (109). There was no

Rogan and Gladen. (1991)

Gladen et al. (1988)

Rogan et al. (1986)

Exposurea Outcome

670 children age 24 mo

676 children age 18 mo

Birth cohort from three health centers in North Carolina (same as above)

720 infants age 12 mo

DDE Placenta, maternal and cord Bayley Scales (BSID) serum and milk/colostrums combined into one measure/ woman MDI

Prenatal: placenta, maternal and Mental Development (MDI) cord serum, and milk at birth combined into one measure/ woman Postnatal: cumulative exposure at Psychomotor Development (PDI) time of evaluation based on concentration in milk and duration of breast-feeding

912 neonates %1 mo old DDE Placenta, maternal and cord Brazelton Neonatal Behavioral Assessment Scale (BNBAS) serum and milk/colostrums combined into one measure/ woman Birth cohort from three (Medianw2 mg/g milk lipid or health centers in North w50 mg/mL milk) Carolina Bayley Scales of Infant 786 infants age 6 mo DDE Development (BSID)

Population

Neurotoxic Effects of Organochlorine Insecticide Exposure in Children

Author, year

Table 2

[ PDI at 24 mo (Continued)

Postnatal DDE exposure: No associations at 6 or 12 mo with PDI or MDI No association at 18 mo with PDI or MDI

No association observed with PDI and transplacental exposure

Prenatal DDE exposure. [ MDI at 6 mo, but association disappears by 12-mo assessment

[Dose-related number of abnormal reflexes (hyporeflexia) whigher scores on regulation-of-states

Results

Pesticide Exposure and Human Development 259

Darvill et al. (2000)

Gladen and Rogan. (1991)

Author, year

Exposurea Outcome

219 at 12 mo old

PDI Birth cohort from three health centers in North Carolina (same as above) 712 children assessed at DDE Placenta, maternal and cord McCarthy scales of children’s abilities at 3, 4, or 5 yr 3, 4, or 5 yr serum and milk/colostrums combined into one measure/ woman Grades in English and math506 children up to age 10 1 ematics from report cards ⁄2 yr from grade 3 or later Birth cohort from three health centers in North Carolina (same as above) Fagan test of infant intelligence Same cohort as in Cord serum levels DDE, HCB, Stewart et al. Mirex; breast milk on a subgroup 230 at 6 mo old (The primary exposure was PCB)

Population

Table 2 Neurotoxic Effects of Organochlorine Insecticide Exposure in Children (Continued)

At 12 mo, inverse correlation, rZ-.14, pZ.03 (Authors report that there is no association)

At 6 mo, no association with DDE (HCB and Mirex not presented)

No association with grades

No association with McCarthy scores

No association with MDI at 24 mo

Results

260 Barr et al.

a

nZ92 infants 13 mo olds Cord serum DDE (medianZ 0.85 ng/mL serum or w145 mg/g lipid) and HCB Birth cohort living near an electrochemical factory in Spain

YGriffiths Scales: locomotor, personal-social, performance and eye-hand coordination Associations strongest if shorter period of breastfeeding HCB No association

2X dose of DDE/ Y3.5 points MDI Y 4.0 points PDI

Mental Development-MDI

Psychomotor DevelopmentPDI Griffiths Scales of Infant Development

p, p 0 , DDE YMDI and PDI-dose-related

Bayley scales of infant development

Conversions from whole weight to lipid adjusted values and vice versa were performed assuming an average milk lipid content of 4% and an average serum lipid content of 0.6%. The average milk lipid content is for mature milk; colostrum lipid content is lower.

Ribas-Fito´ et al. (2003)

Pesticide Exposure and Human Development 261

Farmworkers work in strawberries

Latino adolescents in Oregon

Occupation Farmworkers pre vs post season (6–36 days after pre-season evaluation)

Exposure based on:

Rohlman et al. nZ96 migrant farmworkers (2001)

nZ51 non farmworkers (NFW) 13–18 yr old (Farmworkers are significantly older and less educated and more males)

Exposure

Population

Neurotoxic Effects of Organophosphorus Insecticide Exposure in Children

Author, year

Table 3

Progressive ratio test Selective attention test Serial digit learning Continuous performance test

Simple reaction time Digit span

Behavioral assessment and Research System (BARS): Finger tapping Symbol-digit

Outcome

All showed improvement Authors state results likely confounded by cultural and educational differences in groups, and by practice effects

Pre vs. post season (66 retested)

Preseason vs NFW Yon cognitive tests (digit symbol, digit learning, digit span) Z motor tests Postseason vs. NFW Z on all tests

Pre or post season farmworkers vs. non farmworkers (once only)

Results

262 Barr et al.

Urinary p-nitro phenol (PNP) R100 ng/mL for one household member OR

Exposed in Mississippi:

PNPR300 ng/mL OR

Household wipe measures of methyl parathion (MP) R150 mg/100 cm2 Communities in Mississippi and Ohio where Exposed in Ohio: illegal household spraying for pest control was known to have occurred. Urinary PNP R100 ng/mL for one household member OR Household MP R132.9 mg/100 cm2 High exposure:

MZ6 yr old (rangeZ2–11)

nZ147 unexposed

Zeitz-Ruckart nZ132 exposed et al. (2004)

Y Motor skills (VABS)

Story Memory Immediate and Delayed (WRAML) Trail-Making test (O9 yo only) Verbal Cancellation Test Personality Inventory for Children

(Continued)

Problems with sample size due to attrition and age appropriate assessment

[ Undisicplined behavior and other behavioral problems Findings not consistent across sites

w Fine visuo-motor (purdue)

More of the exposed group improved at retest Z General intelligence, visual-motor integration, multistep processing (K-BIT, VMI and trail-making) Y Selective attention (verbal cancellation) Y Verbal delayed memory (story)

Z proportion classified as below expected

Purdue Pegboard

Kaufman Brief Intelligence Test (K-BIT)

Pediatric Environmental Neurobehavioral Test Battery (PENTB): Developmental Test of VisualMotor Integration (VMI)

Pesticide Exposure and Human Development 263

Young et al. (2005)

Author, year 2

MP R1000 mg/100 cm

Exposure

Unexposed from same communities with no exposure based on State records Maternal urinary dialkyl nZ381 ! 2 mo olds CHAMACOS birth phosphate metabolite cohort living in an agricultural community; levels during pregnancy mostly latino farmworker families in (MZ14 and 26 wk) and Salinas Valley California early postnatal (MZ 7 days) CHAMACOS birth cohort living in an agricultural community; mostly latino farmworker families in Salinas Valley California

Population

Outcome

BNBAS

Retested 1 yr later

Vineland Adaptive Behavior Scales

Table 3 Neurotoxic Effects of Organophosphorus Insecticide Exposure in Children (Continued)

No association with early postnatal exposure measures

[Dose-related number of abnormal reflexes (hyporeflexia) with in utero measure especially in infants O3 days at testing

Authors state results are not conclusive subacute exposure may be related to transient associations

Results

264 Barr et al.

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association of transplacental or breastfeeding exposure to DDE on the McCarthy Scales of Children’s Abilities at 3,4, or 5 years or school performance at 8 to 101⁄2 years (110). These findings from North Carolina differ somewhat from findings from other cohorts. In a follow-up study of a subset of the Oswego infants at 6 and 12 mo (102), the authors report no association at either time point of cord serum DDE levels with performance on the Fagan Test of Infant Intelligence (a novelty preference task with moderate predictive validity on later measures of psychometric intelligence), although they present a significant negative correlation between DDE levels and performance at 12 mo. This negative correlation is in line with a study of 92 infants from a community in Spain with high levels of atmospheric hexachlorobenzene (HCB) (103). Although no association existed with HCB, cord serum DDE levels were significantly negatively associated with cognitive, psychomotor, and social development of 13-mo-old children assessed on the Bayley and the Griffiths Scales of Infant Development. Similar findings were observed among 4- to 5-yr-old children participating in a small ecologic study in an indigenous community in Mexico (104). In that study, children living in the valley where a variety of OC, OP, and pyrethroid insecticides were used in farming were compared with those living on the foothills where farming was done without insecticides. Although no biomarkers of exposure were used in this study, a previous study documented high exposure to OC insecticides including DDE. Compared to the children from the foothills, the children living in the valley demonstrated poorer motor stamina and skill, eye-hand coordination, delayed memory, and drawing ability and had more aggressive behavior. OP Insecticides Recent studies using biomarkers of exposure have found that in utero exposure to OP insecticides may impact birth weight and length (29,31), length of gestation (111), and in some susceptible subpopulations, other measures of growth such as head circumference (76). These studies suggest that low levels of OP insecticide exposure have the potential to impact other aspects of development. However, few studies have been published that specifically assessed the neurodevelopment of children exposed to OP insecticides. In neonates from the CHAMACOS birth cohort study of primarily Latino agricultural families, Young et al. (112) reported that maternal dialkyl phosphate urinary metabolite levels during pregnancy were associated with an increase in number of abnormal reflexes on the BNAS. Effects were seen particularly in those who were assessed after three days following birth. These associations, which were dose-related, were similar to the findings of Rogan et al. (101) observed in relation to DDE exposure. In a study of older children (ages 2 to11 yr) living in communities in Mississippi and Ohio where methyl parathion was sprayed, Ruckart et al. (106) reported that in comparison with unexposed children, exposed children had decreased selective attention, delayed verbal memory, and poorer motor skills as well as behavioral problems. Exposure to methyl parathion was based on urinary measurements in household members and dust wipe samples. However, the results were not consistent in all analyses and at both sites; hence, the authors concluded that the results suggested transient associations but were inconclusive. In another inconclusive study of migrant farmworker adolescents, Rohlman et al. (105) showed that, in comparison to non- farmworking adolescents, farmworker adolescents performed poorly on a number of tests even prior to the season when exposure would have occurred. The farmworker adolescents showed substantial improvement when assessed post season, presumably after exposure. This study was impacted by educational, age, and sex differences in the groups and substantial practice effects and loss to follow-up.

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In summary, few studies in humans have examined the potential neurodevelopmental impact of chronic low-level insecticide exposure. The limited data, however, suggest some association of both OC insecticide exposure, namely DDE, and OP insecticide exposure with neonatal reflexes, although the clinical significance of this observation is unknown. Some data also suggest an impact on later neurodevelopment, but the data are too sparse to make any conclusions.

FACTORS AFFECTING FETAL, INFANT, AND EARLY CHILDHOOD EXPOSURE Factors Affecting Fetal Exposures For many compounds such as lead, a clear relation exists between maternal and fetal exposures (113). Pesticide researchers have assumed that maternal biomonitoring measurements during pregnancy indicate exposures to the fetus. Several recent studies that indicate direct exposures to the fetus tend to confirm this presumption (19,28,30). In utero pesticide exposures are a central focus of several current cohort studies (19,29,31,76,111,114) and will be part of the planned National Children’s Study (115). Thus, researchers need to understand physiologic changes during pregnancy that affect the distribution of pesticides in the body. For example, plasma volume, body water, cardiac output, and circulating hormones increase during pregnancy (116). These changes can alter the steady-state concentration of pesticides in the body or their toxicity. Chemicals absorbed into the body are distributed to highly perfused organs and extravascular tissues. The extent to which a chemical distributes to extravascular tissues and compartments depends on the body mass of the individual and on the chemical’s lipid solubility, ionic state, and protein-binding capacity. Lipophilic chemicals, such as OC insecticides, readily distribute to adipose tissue. These particular insecticides tend to accumulate in this compartment because they are slowly metabolized by the body, and this tissue is poorly perfused by blood. Total body water increases about 50% during pregnancy and contributes to the majority of the increase in body mass during this period (117). This causes increased plasma volume, which leads to lower plasma concentration of the chemical as pregnancy progresses and the exposure-dose remains constant or unchanged (118). This effect is most apparent with chemicals that are water soluble, which would apply to many of the pesticide metabolites. Another cause for lowered plasma chemical concentration during pregnancy is increased renal clearance. Renal blood flow increases by 25% to 50% at the end of the first trimester because of increased cardiac output. This promotes the elimination of chemicals in the urine by glomerular filtration and leads to a lower plasma concentration of the chemical (119). Thus, if a dose-dependent health effect is anticipated for a chemical, then the response is unlikely to be maintained during the gestational period if the exposure-dose remains constant. The distribution of chemicals across the placenta is primarily by passive diffusion, which is determined by the ionic state and concentration gradient of the chemical. Because fetal blood pH (w7.00–7.20) is slightly more acidic than maternal blood pH (7.40), pesticides that are weak bases will become ionized and trapped in the fetal circulation, leading to higher levels in cord blood than in maternal blood. The opposite effect would occur with chemicals that are weak acids (120). Most OP, carbamate, or pyrethroid insecticide metabolites are weak acids and are unlikely to become “ion trapped” in fetal circulation. This mechanism alone can contribute to variations in the levels of these metabolites measured in cord blood. In addition, the “ion trapping” of metabolites

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behaving as weak bases and with biologically toxic activity could potentially have detrimental effects on the fetus. Lipophilic chemicals in the non-ionized state can passively diffuse across the placenta and into the fetal circulation. Because many currentuse pesticides are somewhat lipophilic—for example, chlorpyifos has a logKow of about four (121)—this may be another process by which these chemicals may enter the fetal circulation. The amount of blood flow to the placenta is another critical variable determining the distribution of chemicals, particularly lipophilic chemicals, from maternal to fetal circulation (122). Some factors causing decreased placental blood flow include maternal hypotension, toxemia, and pre-eclampsia, and use of vasoconstricting drugs or chemicals (e.g., sympathomimetic agents) (123,124). Finally, the plasma protein-binding capacity of the pesticide can determine transfer across the placenta (118). The binding to plasma proteins by a chemical limits its ability to distribute to extravascular compartments, to exert its biological activity at the site of action, and to be eliminated by glomerular filtration. During pregnancy, two changes occur that concern plasma proteins: a decrease in plasma protein concentration caused by increased plasma volume and a decrease in protein binding sites because of saturation by increased hormone levels. The latter effect increases protein-unbound chemical levels (125). Chemicals that bind to plasma proteins with minimal affinity will cross the placenta and be bound by fetal protein and accumulate in that compartment, leading to levels higher than those measured in the maternal compartment. This effect is expected to be greatest after 37 wk of gestation because fetal plasma albumin levels are highest at that time. Chemicals with a high protein binding capacity (e.g., chlorpyrifos) are most likely to be affected by changes in plasma protein levels. Further research is needed to characterize the extent of protein binding affinity for currently used pesticides. Most current-use pesticides are rapidly metabolized in the body by the hepatic microsomal mixed-function oxidase system, although blood and other tissues may contribute to this process as well (126). For most of these chemicals, this process yields metabolites that are not biologically active. However, for the phosphorothionate insecticides (e.g., chlorpyrifos, parathion, fenthion, dimethoate, fenitrothion), the oxon analogue metabolite is much more biologically active at the cholinesterase site than the parent chemical (43). Similarly, carbamate metabolites that maintain the amide bond will have anticholinesterase activity like the parent chemical. For pyrethroids, geometric isomers are metabolized at different rates and have variable levels of biological activity. In general, the cis isomers are metabolized by oxidases, which is a slower process than the esterase-mediated hydrolysis of the trans isomers. In developing systems, chemical metabolism can be delayed because of immaturity. Feto-placental metabolism of chemicals can occur at either the placenta or fetal liver (127). Although fetal hepatic chemical metabolism begins within the first trimester of gestation, it is believed to have a small contribution to the biotransformation of chemicals because of the immature state of the liver. Thus, chemicals can persist for longer periods in the fetal circulation than in the maternal circulation. The significance of these findings to health assessment studies is that the biologically active chemical most proximate to the health effect of interest should be selected as the exposure biomarker; otherwise, the ability to identify such associations may be complicated by increased variability in response. Factors Affecting Childhood Exposures Efforts have been under way by the United States Environmental Protection Agency (U.S. EPA) to standardize childhood age-categories on the basis of behavioral and physiological characteristics for harmonizing exposure and risk assessments across all branches of

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the agency (128,129). Life stages can be identified for the development of physiologic systems and their changing sensitivity to toxicants (130). As noted above, sensitivity to neurotoxicants may be influenced not only by the stage of neurologic development, but also by metabolic processes that influence how the neurotoxicant is processed by the body. Similarly, behavioral life stages can be characterized by age-specific behavior patterns. Of particular interest for neurotoxicants are mouthing behaviors that peak in frequency and duration when infants are teething. These behaviors may, however, have their most significant influence on the ingestion of neurotoxicants during toddlerhood when the child is relatively independent of the caretaker, is mobile, and has not yet developed good hygiene habits. The mantra that children are not little adults is particularly true in interpreting and understanding exposure data. Identification of the factors that contribute to exposure requires understanding how children at different stages of development differ in activities and activity levels and sleeping and eating patterns and places they spend time (131–134). For approximately nine months of the year, school-aged children’s lives are dramatically influenced by their attendance in school. It is where they spend most of their waking hours during the work week and where they may have many of their insecticide exposures. For younger children, where the children spend time is driven by a variety of factors including whether the mother works, the family’s level of affluence, the family structure, and community characteristics (132). In the National Human Activity Pattern Survey (NHAPS) (133), exposure and activity pattern data were obtained for individuals of all ages in a population-based study. NHAPS found that household insecticide use was equally likely for all age groups (Table 4). At the same time children as a group spent more time on the floor than did adults, and among all children, time spent on floors decreased with age. The youngest children were least likely to wash hands and most likely to contact floors, dirt, and grass—potential sources of insecticide exposure. Children differ by age and by sex (Table 4). In an elaboration of NHAPS on dirt and grass contact potential, Wong et al. (135) studied 2- to 13-yr-olds and found both sex- and activity-driven differences in grass and dirt contact, with boys having greater contact than girls, and sports players having more contact than nonplayers of sports. The dirt/grass contact behaviors of children aged less than two years and teenagers did not appear to be Table 4 Age-Specific Changes in Potential Exposure Behaviors in Children: Percentage of Individuals Exhibiting Activity Age group (years) Activity Use of insecticides in homes to rid of pests Wash hands%twice yesterday Shower/bathe yesterday Spend time on floor Play outdoors Play in sand/dirt/grass Less than 30 min on dirt yesterday (doers) Less than 30 min on grass yesterday (doers) N NZnumber of participants. Source: From Ref. 133.

1–4

5–11

12–17

18–64

39.3% 29.3% 76.2% 86.6% 55.5% 43.3% 71.7% 41.2% 263

43.0% 19.0% 15.6% 44.1% 34.1% 28.4% 70.0% 31.5% 348

43.1% 16.0% 40.2% 9.5% 7.8% 7.0% 82.9% 39.0% 326

43.9% 4.6% 82.8% 7.7% 5.2% 3.9% 85.7% 38.4% 2972

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sports driven. Sex differences in outdoor activities including grass and dirt contact, also have been found in several insecticide exposure studies (23,136,137). Thus, researchers planning studies of pesticide exposure and human development must design sampling strategies that characterize exposure during rapidly changing life stages and by sex. ASSESSING EXPOSURE TO NEUROTOXIC PESTICIDES Historically, human exposure assessment to hazardous chemicals, including neurotoxic insecticides, have served two purposes: (1) estimating population level exposure for risk assessment purposes; and, (2) estimating individual-level exposures to classify exposure for epidemiologic studies. The ability of any individual exposure measure to classify exposure for epidemiologic studies is often unknown, unless they have been validated. The U.S. EPA developed a paradigm to describe the necessary parameters required to determine risks associated with exposures to environmental chemicals (138,139). A modified version of this paradigm (Fig. 1) can be applied to studies evaluating effects of neurotoxic insecticides. According to the paradigm, the exposure must be adequately described to positively establish the relation between neurotoxic effects and insecticide exposure. In fact, failure to link exposure to neurotoxic insecticides to neurotoxic effects in humans may result as much or more from poor exposure assessment than from a lack of association. Exposure assessment is a complex process for healthy adults but it becomes exponentially more complex when it involves fetuses and young children. Tables 5 and 6 (41) describe the exposure assessment data than can be realistically obtained during fetal and early childhood development. To most accurately evaluate neurotoxic effects of insecticide exposure, collecting the samples at or near critical timepoints in development is imperative. In general, three types of approaches (Fig. 1) have been used to describe exposure, each with its own advantages and limitations (40,41). EXPOSURE CHARACTERIZATION

RISK CHARACTERIZATION Survey Data Collection

SOURCE/STRESSOR FORMATION

•

Proximity to source Pesticide use data Questionnaires • Time-activity diaries • Food consumption diaries

NEUROTOXIC EFFECT

• •

DEPOSITION IN THE ENVIRONMENT

Modulating factors include: Genetics Lifestyle • Coexposures

re e) su ng po lu ex in, ith sk w ., ct .g ta (e on e C rfac te in

• •

Biological Measurements

Enviromental Measurements •

Air. dust and soil measurements Duplicate det measurements • Dermal dosimetry

EXPOSURE

DOSE

•

Modulating factors include: • Temporality • Magnitude • Frequency

Modulating factors include: • Bioavailabilty • Absorption • Toxicokinetics

•

Measurements in biological matrices such as urine, blood, saliva, meconium, amniotic fluid • Measurements of altered genes, proteins and metabolism

Figure 1 Exposure-health effects paradigm (adapted from U.S. EPA). The three general approaches for exposure assessment are shown.

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Table 5 Potential Preconception, Pregnancy, and Perinatal Sample Collection for Nonpersistent Insecticide Analysis Sample (1) Maternal urinea (1) Maternal blooda (1) Cord blooda Meconium (1) Colustrum/ Breastmilk (2) Maternal saliva (2) Dietary assessmentd (1) Home aire samplea (1) Home composite dust samplee,a (1) Questionnaire (1) Ecologic analysis (e.g., GIS)e

First Pre- conception tri-mester

Second trimester

Third trimester

Perinatal period

x

x

x xb,c

x

x

x

x x

x

x xc xc x x x

x x

x x

x x

x x x x

x x

Key: (1) indicates measures that have been used in Prior Epidemiologic studies. (2) indicates those that are more Experimental or Costly. a Media with existing laboratory methods for likely target insecticides (e.g., urine, dust, air, food). b Blood collection piggy-back on glucose tolerance test. Blood samples crucial for PON1 status, ACHe. c Blood collection that is normal part of medical care. Blood samples crucial for PON1 status, ACHe. d Duplicate diet sampling, food frequency questionnaire, or other method (see text). e For each home lived in. Source: From Ref. 41.

These approaches are collecting historical information, measuring concentrations in environmental media, and measuring concentrations in biological media. For the OC pesticides that persist in the environment and in people, such as DDT or its degradate/ metabolite DDE, biological measurements are generally sufficient for describing the exposure. However, exposure assessment for currently used pesticides, which tend to have short environmental and biological residence times, is more challenging (39–41). These exposures tend to be transient and often episodic; thus, one sampling or measurement would provide only a short-term dosimeter (41,46,140). Typically, exposure to these pesticides is best assessed by more than one approach and may require collection of multiple biologic and environmental samples to effectively depict exposure and exposure pathways (40). In addition, biological samples need to be collected at periods temporally relevant to the pesticide exposure or critical window of development (Tables 4–6). Survey Data Survey data collection can include ecologic and geographic data, questionnaire information, food diaries, time-activity diaries or videotapes. Methods to use ecologic data to classify insecticide exposure for health studies include simple classification of residential location in agricultural areas or use of detailed residential histories linked with nearby insecticide use histories (141,141–143). These methods in part are supported by studies in Washington showing that insecticide exposures may be higher in children living closer to fields (18). However, high variability in agricultural environments, such as row versus orchard crops, crop-specific insecticide use, application methods, and local meteorology may affect the relation of nearby insecticide use to residential exposures.

a,b

x

x

x x

x

3 yr

x x

x

4 yr

x

x x x

x x

x x

x x

x x

x x

b

Pediatric urine bag, cloth diaper or insert or disposable diaper gel matrix sample for nontoilet trained children. If not diapered, spot samples or multiple spots. Media with existing laboratory methods for likely target insecticides (e.g., urine, dust, air, food). c Blood collection at young age piggy-back on CDC recommended lead screen at 12 and 24 mo. Blood samples crucial for PON1 status, ACHe. d Choking hazard for saliva collection for children less than 3 yr with current protocol. e Duplicate diet sampling, food frequency questionnaire, or other method. f For each home lived in. Source: From Ref. 41.

a

x

x x

2 yr

x x

x

5 yr

X x

Each home/yr

x

x

18 mo

Each home/yr Each home/yr Each home/yr Each home/yr Each home/yr Each home/yr Each home/yr Each home/yr

x

x

x

x x x

12 mo

Each home/yr

x

x

x

9 mo

Each home/yr Each home/yr Each home/yr Each home/yr Each home/yr Each home/yr Each home/yr Each home/yr

x

6 mo

x

3 mo

Age of child

Early Child Sample Collection for Exposure Assessment of Currently Used Insecticides

(a) Urine (a) Bloodc,b (a) Breast milk (b) Salivad (b) Dietary assessmente (a) Home air samplef,b (a) Home dust samplef,b (a) Questionnaire (a) Ecologic analysis (e.g., GIS)f

Sample

Table 6

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Additional validation studies including direct measures of pesticides in environmental or biologic samples are needed before ecologic data, such as agricultural pesticide use information, can be used to classify exposures for epidemiologic studies. Questionnaires traditionally have been used to provide semiquantitative information for exposure characterization (144). They are used to identify both sources and routes of exposure by collecting data on global issues, such as household and residential chemical use patterns (e.g., insecticide treatments within and around the home), presence of home vegetable/fruit gardens, parental occupation, proximity to external chemical sources, and home age/condition characteristics that may be associated with presence of neurotoxicants (145,146). Questionnaires can also be used to identify important milestones in child development that may affect exposure, such as the transition to solid foods at 4–6 mo of age. Such questionnaires typically are completed by the parent or head of household. When increasing level of detail is desired, time-activity diaries provide detailed macro-activity (where an individual spends time) and micro-activity (specific activities) data (133,147). Children older than 12 yr have little difficulty understanding how to complete these diaries but may have difficulty in compliance (148). For younger children, the primary caretaker has the responsibility as surrogate responder for the child (133,135). Use of surrogate responders works well for variables that are global such as whether a child spent time at school or played outdoors. Detailed information about how much time a child spent in specific locations or information about micro-activities (what a child touches or mouths) often is reported poorly or inaccurately by surrogate responders (137,149). To address this issue, some exposure assessors have adopted a variety of observational techniques to capture the micro-activities of the child (136,149–158). The most commonly reported method is videography in which exposure-related behaviors are quantified. In addition, the use of global position systems has also been shown as a useful approach to quantify the macroenvironment of children (159). Of particular interest for neurotoxicants are hand or mouth contacts with dusty surfaces, floors, or soil, hand-tomouth activities, hand contacts with food, and hand washing behaviors (23,151,160,161). Statistical associations between contact activities with substrates and insecticide hand loadings and/or biomarkers of exposure have been found in several studies (23). These associations have not been verified through empirical studies. A behavior of concern especially with young children is the consumption of food that has fallen on the floor. In laboratory studies, Rohrer et al. (162) found that many OP and pyrethroid insecticides adhered to bologna, cheese, and apple slices placed on contaminated hard surfaces. Observational techniques allow verification of parental reports and collection of quantifiable data on food handling and retrieval behavior that would otherwise be difficult to obtain. Ultimately, these types of studies will validate questionnaires and other instruments that can be used to categorize exposure in epidemiologic studies where individual videography is not possible. Measurements in Environmental Media Measurements of insecticides in environmental media can be used provide information about routes of exposure, and when coupled with time-activity and food consumption data, can provide powerful data on the frequency and magnitude of exposures. Many neurotoxic insecticides are semivolatile (e.g., OP, carbamate and OC insecticides) or nonvolatile (e.g., pyrethroids) (163); however, both semivolatile and nonvolatile insecticides can be resuspended into air on particles by human and pet activity (163) and are readily detectable in indoor and personal air samples (19,146,163–169). These studies have shown that inhalation exposure to semivolatile insecticides in indoor air can be substantial and may be

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a primary route of exposure after residential use of insecticides. For example, an aggregate exposure assessment of chlorpyrifos among adult residents from Baltimore, Maryland, found that inhalation exposures accounted for approximately 85% of total daily dose (164). Similarly, results from the U.S. EPA Non-Occupational Insecticides Exposure Study (NOPES) indicate that 85% of the total daily exposure of adults to airborne insecticides is from breathing air inside the home (146). However, exposures can vary considerably, particularly for children; thus, the primary route of exposure in children will depend on household pesticide use patterns, behavioral and dietary habits, and the volatility of the insecticides. Studies designed to characterize children’s exposure to insecticides indicate that the largest number of insecticides and the highest concentrations are found in household dust than in air, soil, and food (18,163). Most household dust samples contain one or more pesticides at detectable concentrations and the concentrations remain relatively constant over months to years (170–172). Because of hand-to-mouth activities, dust may be a significant medium of contaminant exposure for young children in the home environment. Dust sampling has several limitations: (1) the timing of application is not known; (2) levels in the dust may reflect use months to years before the sampling; and (3) depending upon the dust type sampled, dust concentrations may differ and the potential for exposure may differ, as well. For example, dust on hard surfaces may be readily available to transfer to children’s skin and result in nondietary ingestion or dermal exposures, whereas insecticide-contaminated dust lodged deeply in carpets may not be available to children. Carpet and other dusts may function as a reservoir for household insecticide contamination, recontaminating surfaces and air after cleaning depending on the physical and chemical properties (“fugacity”) of the specific compounds. Because of the variability in childhood activities and the potential exposures to dust, the inter-relations of environmental and personal exposure measures may be difficult to interpret. Diet is a potentially significant pathway of exposure to insecticides for children (34,173). Most food types contain some pesticide residues (174). Detectable insecticide residues were found in approximately 47% of the fruit and vegetable samples tested as part of the USDA’s market-basket surveys in 2002 (174). However, insecticide residues vary significantly across foods. Therefore, individual dietary exposures have been difficult to estimate reliably using food consumption questionnaires (175). Instead, studies generally have estimated dietary exposures by measuring insecticides in duplicate diet samples, in which study participants prepare and collect duplicate portions of all foods and beverages consumed. These studies are considered the gold standard; however, they are extremely costly, burdensome on the participant, and not feasible for large epidemiologic studies. Duplicate diet studies also may underestimate dietary exposure if study designs do not account for contamination of foods from indoor sources, such as handling of food by children who also contact contaminated surfaces or dust. As with the videography studies reviewed above, these types of studies likely will lead to validated questionnaires and other instruments that can be used in epidemiologic studies. Biomonitoring of Exposure Measurements of concentrations of neurotoxic pesticides in biological media directly indicate exposure and absorption of the pesticide (or degradate) into the body (39,176). The most common matrices employed for biomonitoring are blood and urine. Blood serum or plasma is the preferred medium for measurements of biologically persistent chemicals such as DDT and DDE (39). Because OC insecticides are highly lipophilic, they tend to sequester in the lipid stores in the body and remain at equilibrium. Thus, higher lipid

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concentrations in the blood would shift the equilibrium and increase the level of the OC insecticides in the blood. To correct for variation among blood lipids, these concentrations sometimes are normalized on lipid content, which then reduces the overall variability in measurements among persons (177). As with environmental measurements, biomonitoring of currently used insecticides is more complex because these chemicals typically are metabolized rapidly and excreted in urine (39,140). Metabolites of pyrethroid, OP, and carbamate insecticides have been measured frequently in urine samples collected from both occupational and nonoccupational exposures (27,178–183). These measurements are relatively easy to obtain; however, they often provide equivocal information on the parent pesticide. For example, 3,5,6-trichloropyridinol (TCPY) is a metabolite of both chlorpyrifos and its methyl analogue; thus, urinary TCPY measurements would not identify, unequivocally, the parent insecticide (184). Further complicating interpretation, TCPY also can be found in the environment from degradation or soil microbe and plant metabolism (185,186). Thus, urinary TCPY measurements also may reflect exposure to TCPY, which is not known to be neurotoxic. Consequently, measurements of TCPY in urine may result in misclassification of chlorpyrifos exposure and, therefore, obscure any link between exposure and adverse neurologic effects. Another limitation of urinary metabolite measurements is the variable dilution of spot, or convenience, urine samples. Creatinine adjustment of urinary metabolites is the standard method for correcting for urine dilution; however, recent studies suggest that creatinine adjustment in pregnant women and children may not be appropriate (152,187,188). The appropriateness of creatinine adjustment lies largely with the diversity of the population studied. Children excrete proportionately less creatinine (Fig. 2) than adolescents or adults, and women excrete less creatinine than men (188). Diet, disease, race/ethnicity, musculature, dietary supplements, and pregnancy also can influence creatinine excretion (187), thus increasing the variability in creatinine-adjusted data rather than eliminating variability from urine dilution.

70

% > > >
> gK1 @ A > > : bx

(8) if b x O 0

where UZFK1(1KP0)KFK1(1KP0KBMR) (17). Often, P0 is fixed at 5%, while the BMR is either 5% or 10% (2). Furthermore, Budtz-Jørgensen et al. (17) derived a closed form approximation to the lower 95% confidence limit 8 > > ) > c b^ x Þ 1 C ðt2 Ku2 Þ=2df : b^ x C u95 SEð

c b^ x Þ%Ku95 if t Z b^ x =SEð c b^ x ÞOKu95 if t Z b^ x =SEð

95

(9) where u95z1.645 is the 95th percentile in the standard normal distribution, df is the c b^ x Þ is the estimated standard deviation of b^ x : number of degrees of freedom, and SEð

STANDARD APPLICATION OF THE BENCHMARK APPROACH In applications of the benchmark method, the choice of dose-response function g is critical. Previous analyses in similar data [see for instance (18)] used the so-called K-power model. This model consists of power functions g(x)ZxK, where the power K is to be estimated under the restriction K R 1. Thus, this model includes only convex functions. As the dose-effect could also be concave within some doseffi ranges, we also considered a pffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffi linear model [g(x)Zx], a square root model ½gðxÞZ xC 1 K1 and a logarithmic model [g(x)Zlog(xC1)]. Despite the fact that the models fitted the data almost equally well, a substantial variation in BMD results across the models was seen (19). The logarithmic model yielded the lowest BMDLs, while the linear model and the K-power model provided the highest. The strong model dependence of the BMDLs may seem in conflict with the concept put forward by Crump (16), that by estimating risks at moderate levels, such as 5% or 10%, the BMD should be relatively robust to model specification. However, as explained by Bødtz-Jørgensen et al. (17), when no data from unexposed controls are available, this is not true, as the method depends on extrapolations to zero dose. In the calculation of an exposure limit, the NAS committee ruled out the square root and the logarithmic dose-response functions as being biologically implausible (2). Furthermore, P0 and the BMR were fixed at 5%, so that exposure to the BMD will double the unexposed risk (i.e., from 5% to 10%). Even with these definitions, the BMDLs varied strongly between the Faroese outcomes (19). In agreement with the precautionary principle, the committee decided to disregard multiple comparisons concerns and based the final calculation on the outcome with the strongest mercury effect (i.e., the cued BNT score). This procedure yielded a BMDL of 58 mg/l in cord blood.

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SOPHISTICATED BENCHMARK ANALYSIS The described benchmark calculation was based on regression analysis and it therefore suffers from the shortcomings of this method. The result depends on the outcome considered, the analysis is not efficient (important when calculating BMDL), and exposure error is ignored. In this section, it is described how these problems can be solved. Adjustment for Exposure Error First, we consider the effect of ignoring exposure error in the benchmark calculation. In the model (7), the BMD is given by gK1(Us/bx). The naive analysis (ignoring imprecision) underestimates bx, while the opposite is true for s (1). Thus, the BMD is overestimated. The BMDL also decreases as a function of bx and increases as a function of s (17). Therefore, failure to adjust for measurement error will lead to upward bias in the BMDL and, as a consequence, calculated exposure limits may not be as safe as intended. Based on the imprecisions estimated in the section, Estimation of exposure measurement error Budtz-Jørgensen et al. (20) calculated measurement error adjusted BMDLs. This was done using maximum likelihood estimation in a so-called structural approach (1). The likelihood function is the conditional density f(YjW,Z) of the response (Y), given the observed exposure (W) and the covariates (Z). This function determined by integrating over the true exposure ð ð f ðYjW; ZÞ Z f ðYjX; W; ZÞf ðXjW; ZÞdX Z c f ðYjX; ZÞf ðWjX; ZÞf ðXjZÞdX; (10) where we exploited that Y and W are independent given X, Z and c is a constant. In the latter expression, the distribution of Y given X and Z [f(YjX, Z)] is defined by the doseresponse model ½Y Z b0 C bx gðXÞC btz Z C 3: The distribution of W given X and Z [f(WjX,Z)] is given by the error model. Here we assumed that the additive error model was appropriate after transformation with a known monotone function, i.e., h(W)Zh(X)CU. For example, this model was applied in the section Estimation of exposure measurement error where we used an additive error model for log-transformed mercury concentrations. Calculation of the likelihood function further requires specification of the distribution of f(XjZ), the true exposure given the covariates. For this we assumed that h(X) followed a normal distribution conditional on Z. The complexity of the analysis depends on the relation between h and the doseresponse function g. In the simple case where gZh, f(YjW,Z) is a normal distribution and a closed form expression for the adjusted BMDL was obtained as ( qffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffi) BMDL Z gK1 r

gðBMDLnaive Þ2 KU2 varðUÞ=r ;

(11)

where BMDLnaive is the unadjusted result and r is the attenuation factor (5). As expected, the adjustment decreases the BMDL. This decrease becomes stronger for lower values of r. Thus, in studies with limited exposure variation or high exposure imprecision, the naive analysis will be more biased. Closed form solutions are not available in the general case where gsh. In the Faroese data, the NAS committee recommended a linear response model [g(x)Zx], while data suggested that an additive error model was appropriate after a log-transformation of the mercury concentrations [h(x)Zlog(x)]. In this case, calculation of the likelihood function (10) involves numerical integration, which may be accomplished using the SAS

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procedure NLMIXED. Based on the exposure imprecision estimated in Estimation of exposure measurement error, we obtained an adjusted BMDL of 45.5 mg/l for the BNT score. This result indicates that the (unadjusted) BMDL recommended by the NAScommittee was overestimated by about 27%. On the other hand, by relying solely on the most significant dose-response relation, some downward bias may have been introduced in the NAS approach. This is further explored in the next section. Adjustment for Measurement Error and Multiple Comparisons Imprecisions in the response variable will generally not lead to bias in the regression coefficients, but the BMD analysis is sensitive to this type of error. This effect can be illustrated by assuming an additive error in the relationship between the true response (Y) K1 ~ i.e. Y~ Z Y C U:p and the measured response ðYÞ; The true BMD ffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffiffi ffi is g (Us/bx), while the K1 naive analysis estimates the larger value g ðU s2 C varðUÞ=bx Þ: Thus, failure to adjust for errors in the response will lead to further overestimation of the BMD. Neurobehavioral test scores in children are likely to have a large component of unexplained variation and may therefore produce strongly biased BMD results. The structural equation approach allows for measurement error both in the exposure and in the response. The structural part of the model estimates the relation between true exposure and true response. Thus, BMD calculations based on this relation avoid problems caused by measurement errors. In addition, multiple comparisons are not an issue and the BMD is more efficiently estimated. In a model similar to the one developed in the section Effect estimation in structural equation models, Budtz-Jørgensen et al. (21) calculated joint benchmark results for the verbal outcomes. This analysis yielded a BMDL below the lowest of the individual BMDL results. The BMDL was 40.7 mg/l, as expressed in the cord blood scale. Note that, the result of the joint analysis is even lower than the BMDL obtained after exposure error adjustment of the strongest multiple regression dose-response relationship. DISCUSSION Public health research must identify environmental risk factors and then determine safety standards to limit human exposures at acceptably safe levels. This important challenge requires investigators to use the most sensitive and accurate methods to determine exposure levels, outcome variables, and potential confounders. Still, problems with imprecision in the exposure assessment, missing data, and multiple endpoints cannot be avoided in observational studies. This paper has emphasized the importance of taking these problems into account in the risk assessment. Standard statistical methods, such as multiple regression, ignore many of the problematic features, and will lead to biased and inefficient results. Failure to adjust for measurement error in the exposures and in the outcomes may lead to underestimation of the risk, while multiple comparisons are likely to have opposite effect. Structural equation models were shown to be useful in the process of environmental risk assessment. These models consist of linear relations between observed and latent variables. This structure allows both estimation of error size in observed variables and subsequent adjustment of the dose-response relationship. In the analysis of the Faroese data, exposure errors were first estimated in a simple structural equation model using only exposure variables. Naive regression coefficients and benchmark doses were then adjusted, based on these degrees of imprecision. This approach required limited modeling, but the multiple comparisons problem was not addressed and this analysis was as

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inefficient as standard regression analysis. A more powerful and parsimonious representation of the exposure effects was obtained by also viewing the neurobehavioral outcomes as reflections of latent variables. The results of this more sophisticated analysis were similar to the most significant regression results. In fact, the joint BMDL was somewhat lower than that obtained using standard calculations based on the BNT score. Thus, in situations where the structural equation approach has not been applied, risk assessment based on the most significant effect may not be overly protective. The definition of the BMD depends on the response level in unexposed subjects. Unfortunately, epidemiological data usually lack an unexposed control group, and extrapolations to zero are therefore necessary. As a consequence, the results of this approach have been shown to be sensitive to the choice of dose-response model (17). Despite this problem, BMD results are still considered the best basis for identification of exposure standards (2). This paper has pointed to further weaknesses in the benchmark approach. It was shown that if measurement error in the exposure or in the response is ignored, then the BMD and the BMDL may be overestimated. Thus, application of less precise study variables will lead to higher and less protective exposure limits. This bias is counter to the precautionary principle, which would require that weaker knowledge must lead to more stringent standards (22,24). Adjusted results can be obtained in structural equation analysis. In cases where this analysis is not conducted, standard benchmark calculations should be supplemented by sensitivity analysis exploring the robustness of the result to imprecisions in the study variables. However, in the longer term, methods that handle uncertainty more appropriately must be developed. One possibility may be to base the calculations on hockey stick models, which assume no effect of the exposure below an unknown threshold. In the presence of an exposure imprecision, the threshold is typically underestimated (23,24). Therefore, contrary to the benchmark approach, the naive analysis that ignores the measurement error will produce lower hockey stick thresholds and thereby more protective standards. Unfortunately, other sources of uncertainty are not dealt with in this precautionary way. Thus, a limited sample size or an imprecise response variable will bias the estimated threshold upward (24).

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS I am grateful to Dr. Pal Weihe for allowing me to use the data from the Faroese cohort study and to Drs. Philippe Grandjean and Niels Keiding for inspiring discussions. This study was supported by grants from the National Institute of Environmental Health Sciences (ES06112 and ES09797), the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency (9W-0262NAEX), the European Commission (Environment Research Programme), the Danish Medical Research Council, and the Danish Health Insurance Foundation. The contents of this paper are solely the responsibility of the authors and do not necessarily represent the official views of the NIEHS, NIH, or any other funding agency.

REFERENCES 1. Carroll RJ, Ruppert D, Stefanski LA. Measurement Error in Nonlinear Models. London: Chapman & Hall, 1995. 2. National Academy of Sciences (NAS). Toxicological Effects of Methylmercury. Washington: National Academy Press, 2000.

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3. Grandjean P, Weihe P, Jørgensen PJ, Clarkson T, Cernichiari E, Viderø T. Impact of maternal seafood diet on fetal exposure to mercury selenium, and lead. Arch Environ Health 1992; 47:185–195. 4. Grandjean P, Weihe P, White RF, et al. Cognitive deficit in 7-year-old children with prenatal exposure to methylmercury. Neurotoxicol Teratol 1997; 19:417–428. 5. Budtz-Jørgensen E, Keiding N, Grandjean P, Weihe P, White RF. Consequences of exposure measurement error for confounder identification in environmental epidemiology. Stat Med 2003; 22:3089–3100. 6. Bollen KA. Structural Equations with Latent Variables. New York: John Wiley and Sons, 1989. 7. Muthen B. A general structural model with dichotomous, ordered categorical and continuous latent variable indicators. Psychometrika 1984; 49:115–132. 8. Satorra A, Bentler PM. Corrections to test statistics and standard errors in covariance structure analysis. In: von Eye A, Clogg CC, eds. Latent Variable Analysis: Applications to Developmental Research. Newbury Park: Sage Publications, 1994:399–419. 9. Sammel DP, Ryan L, Legler JM. Latent variable models for mixed and discrete and continuous outcomes. J R Stat Soc B 1997; 59:667–678. 10. Little RJA, Rubin DB. Statistical Analysis with Missing Data. New York: Wiley, 1987. 11. Muthe´n LK, Muthe´n B. Mplus. The comprehensive modeling program for applied researchers. User’s Guide. Los Angeles: Muthe´n & Muthe´n, 1998. 12. Budtz-Jørgensen E, Grandjean P, Jørgensen PJ, Weihe P, Keiding N. Association between mercury concentrations in blood and hair in methylmecury-exposed subjects at different ages. Environmental Research 2004; 95:385–393. 13. Tosteson T, Tsiatis A. The asymptotic relative efficiency of score tests in a generalized linear model with surrogate covariates. Biometrika 1998; 75:507–514. 14. Budtz-Jørgensen E, Keiding N, Grandjean P, Weihe P. Estimation of health effects of prenatal mercury exposure using structural equation models. Environ Health 2002; 1:2. 15. Budtz-Jørgensen E, Keiding N, Grandjean P, Weihe P, White RF. Statistical methods for the evaluation of health effects of prenatal mercury exposure. Environmetrics 2003; 13:105–120. 16. Crump K. A New Method for Determining Allowable Daily Intakes. Fundam Appl Toxicol 1984; 4:854–871. 17. Budtz-Jørgensen E, Keiding N, Grandjean P. Benchmark Dose Calculation from Epidemiological Data. Biometrics 2001; 57:698–706. 18. Crump K, Van Landingham C, Shamlaye C, et al. Benchmark concentrations for methylmercury obtained from the Seychelles Child Development Study. Environ Health Perspect 2000; 108:257–263. 19. Budtz-Jørgensen E, Keiding N, Grandjean P. Benchmark modeling of the Faroese methylmercury data. Final Report to U.S.EPA, 1999. 20. Budtz-Jørgensen E, Keiding N, Grandjean P. Effects of exposure imprecision on estimation of the benchmark dose. Risk Analysis 2004; 24:1689–1696. 21. Budtz-Jørgensen E, Keiding N, Grandjean P. Application of structural equation models for evaluating epidemiological data and for calculation of the benchmark dose. Proceedings of the ISI International Conference on Environmental Statistics and Health at Santiago de Compostela, July. 2003:183-194. 22. Barnett V, O’Hagan A. Setting Environmental Standards: The Statistical Approach to Handling Uncertainty and Variation. London: Chapman & Hall, 1997. 23. Kuchenhoff H, Carroll RJ. Segmented regression with errors in predictors: Semi-parametric and parametric methods. Statatistics in Medicine 1997; 16:169–188. 24. Keiding N, Budtz-Jørgensen E. The precautionary principle and statistical approaches to uncertainly. Eur J Oncol Lib 2003; 2:185–191.

19 Incorporating the Social-Ecological Perspective into Studies of Developmental Neurotoxicity Virginia A. Rauh Heilbrum Department for Population and Familiy Health, Mailman School of Public Health, Columbia University, New York, New York, U.S.A.

Frederica Perera Department of Environmental Health Sciences, Mailman School of Public Health, Columbia University, New York, New York, U.S.A.

Jennifer F. Culhane Department of Obstetrics and Gynecology, Drexel University College of Medicine, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, U.S.A.

INTRODUCTION The focus of much environmental health science is to identify and quantify associations between potentially toxic exposures and disease outcomes. Consistent with a medical model, the introduction of biomarkers has moved the field forward by validating the degree of individual exposure and improving the precision of effect size estimates. This, in turn, has lead to increased technological and programmatic responses to the reduction of environmental pollution, including some positive changes in public health policy. However, little attention has been paid by environmental health scientists to the social conditions underlying (and often determining) the distribution of such toxic exposures, and even less attention to the processes whereby some social conditions may alter susceptibility to the toxicants, or vice versa. This chapter is divided into two sections, each addressing a set of methodologic issues raised by the social-ecological perspective in environmental science. The first section describes the co-occurrence of chemical and social exposures, providing an epidemiological rationale for a contextual approach to risk assessment in studies of developmental neurotoxicity. Virtually all human exposure scenarios involve multiple substances, whereby some exposures occur against a background of others, each at different levels of concentration. This background, or context, includes not only other chemical and physical agents but also the many social factors with direct or indirect influences on health and development. The distributions of both social and chemical risks are disproportionate, such that disadvantaged populations are more likely to experience adverse social and chemical exposures, as compared to more advantaged groups and 393

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communities (1,2). Furthermore, chemical and social exposures operate at many different scales of influence, posing methodological problems for assessing risk. Although environmental scientists have developed complex dispersion models to quantify concentrations of ambient chemical pollutants, for example, they have seldom attended to the spatial aspects of social contextual influences on health and development (3). Taken together, the distribution and covariation of social and chemical hazards provide a complex epidemiologic backdrop for risk assessment. The second part of the chapter addresses the different types of possible relationships between chemical and social exposures, and how these relationships affect the calculation of risk estimates. On the one hand, confounding as a result of unmeasured or inadequately measured co-exposures can result in biased estimates of neurotoxic effects. On the other hand, chemical and social exposures may interact with each other, leading to risk reduction, risk enhancement, or other modulation of susceptibility at the individual level, the population level, or both. The presence of interaction may also depend on length of exposure and developmental stage of the individual, so that interactions with time (or age) will need to be considered. These various contingencies will have profound effects on individual differences in risk as well as population health disparities. The framework underlying this chapter is not original. In addition to the many individuals who have proposed social-contextual approaches to understanding environmental health (4), a number of excellent reports dealing with methods for studying environmental health risks have appeared in the last few years. These include reports from the Centers for Disease Control [Racial and Ethnic Approaches to Community Health (REACH) 2010: Addressing Disparities in Health, 2005] (5), the Environmental Protection Agency (Framework for Cumulative Risk Assessment, May, 2003) (6), the Committee on Integrating the Science of Early Childhood Development (From Neurons to Neighborhoods, 2000) (7), the Institute of Medicine (The Role of Environmental Hazards in Premature Birth: Workshop Summary, 2003) (8), the National Scientific Council on the Developing Child (Young Children Develop in an Environment of Relationships, 2004) (9) and the National Environmental Justice Advisory Council (Ensuring Risk Reduction in Communities with Multiple Stressors: Environmental Justice and Cumulative Risks/ Impact, 2004) (10). Building on these ideas, the present chapter combines current thinking about the joint distributions of chemical and social risks, methods for testing different scales of influence in risk assessment research, the meaning of statistical interaction between chemical and social risks, and possible biological mechanisms underlying these interactions.

THE CONFLUENCE OF SOCIAL AND CHEMICAL RISKS As multiple exposures to environmental toxicants are increasingly documented in urban (11) as well as rural settings (12), environmental scientists have been making the shift from single hazard risk assessment to cumulative risk assessment (13–15). In practice, the accumulation of toxic exposures has been shown to be a more powerful determinant of child health and development than any specific exposure (16–18). As advocated by the EPA (Framework for Cumulative Risk Assessment, 2003) (6), risk assessment should include both social and chemical hazards, and should be done with the focus on a population or a community, rather than studying the risk of one exposure on the individual. The convergence of adverse social and chemical exposures poses particular methodologic problems for etiological studies of neurodevelopment, because both kinds of exposures can be toxic to children and families, independently and in combination.

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In addition, each correlate or component of social adversity may carry its own developmental risk, aside from that portion of social-related risk that can be attributed to chemical contaminants. For example, the effects of poverty may be transmitted or mediated by dietary practices, substance abuse, health service utilization, the quality of the home environment, and/or psychosocial stress (19–21). Taken together, these multiple risk factors account for considerable variability in child neurobehavioral functioning (22). There is a long history of studies documenting associations between social conditions and health outcomes. These social conditions include income (23–25), poverty (26,27), education (28), marital status and family structure (29,30), social support/stress/resources (31–36), inequality (37,38), and community quality (39) to name some relevant areas of research. Taken together, the effects of poverty-related factors on child health and neurodevelopment are frequently stronger than the effects of the chemical neurotoxicant(s) under study (40). Many chemical toxicant exposures are concentrated among low-income populations and in socio-economically disadvantaged communities (16,17,41). The convergence of toxic exposures and social adversities represents a type of environmental injustice, in which the greatest toxic burden is carried by those who can least afford the adverse health consequences (42). For example, exposures to environmental tobacco smoke (ETS) and polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons (PAH) are high among low-income, urban, and minority populations, both because of the location of outdoor pollution sources and current socio-demographic patterns of tobacco use (43–48). Elevated cotinine levels have been reported in 70–80% of inner city children (49,50). In addition, many low-income urban areas are home to industrial and waste-related land uses and lack environmental amenities as a result of land use policy that may have been based on exclusionary zoning practices and residential segregation (51–53). For example, there is a lack of parks and open spaces in historically segregated communities like Northern Manhattan (54). During the major era of parks construction in New York City, only one of 255 playgrounds was built in Harlem (55). In the United States, 60% of Hispanics and 50% of African Americans, compared to 33% of Caucasians, live in areas failing to meet two or more of the national ambient air quality standards (48,56). These same minorities are also more likely than others to experience poverty and the many adversities that accompany poverty, including substandard housing, poor nutrition, and inadequate health care (57,58). The specific environmental exposures created and mediated by aspects of the built environment include air pollution such as fine particulate matter, other criteria pollutants (namely nitrogen oxides, sulfur dioxide, carbon monoxide), and construction debris and air toxics (e.g., volatile organic chemicals). Other environmental exposures linked with the built environment include noise and stress (59). A small but growing body of knowledge has looked specifically at stressors related to the physical environment, including personal safety, crime, and violence in the neighborhood (60). In addition, the outdoor environment is inextricably linked to the indoor environment, as pollutants, such as PM2.5, mercury, and other air toxics, can enter and accumulate in the home, especially in poor quality housing without proper ventilation. Poor housing is an example of a poverty-related condition that can be a source of toxic exposures and a pre-eminent stressor in the lives of many low-income, minority families (61,62). In New York City, for example, it is estimated that 74% of the children in Central Harlem and 60% in Washington Heights (both low income communities) live in fair to poor quality housing, as compared to 38% city-wide (63). The construct of housing includes physical/chemical characteristics (e.g., location, density, building height, maintenance, air quality, sanitation, pests, pesticides, etc.), social aspects (e.g., crowding,

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threats to safety, segregation, noise, social networks, cost), and psychological components (interpersonal conflict, dislocation). The importance of adequate housing for the maintenance of health and positive development has long been a topic of scientific and public health policy discussion (64), yet measures of housing adequacy have not been well-used in studies of environmental toxicants (61). Using a measure of residential housing disrepair (e.g. holes in ceilings or walls, peeling paint, water damage) developed by Rauh et al. (65), Whyatt et al. (66) found a significant association between degree of disrepair and pesticide exposure, after controlling for ethnicity and neighborhood of residence. Specifically, substandard housing conditions (a major concern in this population) were found to be positively associated with pest infestations and high use of pest control measures. Furthermore, disrepair was significantly associated with demoralization (a measure of nonspecific psychological distress), suggesting that housing problems are psychologically stressful for urban families. At the population level, neurodevelopmental risk may also arise as a result of the inadequate supply of affordable housing for low-income persons and the increasing spatial segregation of housing by income, race/ethnicity, and social class into unsafe neighborhoods (51). Increasing concentration of poverty leads to housing disinvestments, physical deterioration, and the disintegration of informal social networks (67). When affordable housing is unavailable, families are forced to divert the resources needed for food, clothing, and other necessities to housing costs. Residential instability results, as families are forced to move frequently, move in with other families in overcrowded, unsanitary conditions, or experience periods of homelessness. Residential instability has been identified as one of the most important predictors of individual and community health, and constitutes a threat to the development of informal local friendship networks, kinship bonds, and local organizational ties (68). The psychological stress associated with homelessness is extreme, as families are deprived of a home as an object of attachment and a source of identity (69). Finally, social or economic deprivation need not be absolute in order to affect health and development. Inequality or relative deprivation may be at least as important an influence on child health and developmental outcomes as absolute deprivation (70–72). One argument views relative poverty as a form of social exclusion, and suggests that the racial discrimination underlying this exclusion (including residential segregation) contributes directly to general health (73) as well as child health outcomes. Indeed, there is a substantial literature on the negative health effects of perceived discrimination (74), but it is not yet clear whether these risks operate primarily at the level of individual experiences, or whether additional risk is conferred by exposure to institutionalized racism (75,76). Specific aspects of the wider social environment, including the degree of residential segregation (57), have been demonstrated to be more closely associated with neurodevelopmental outcomes than racial group membership at the individual level (77). One possible explanation for this finding that relative disadvantage is associated with poor health relates to the psychosocial stress experienced by those who have less advantage or power in the social structure as compared to others. Although inequality is greatest in situations where extreme poverty is found, there is evidence to show that the inequality itself confers risk independent of the concentration of poverty (78). Furthermore, because of the association between low income and pollution, areas with greater income equality may also experience greater exposure inequality. Geronimus has suggested that individuals become worn by the years of disadvantage and stress that arise from relative deprivation, and has termed the erosion of health associated with disadvantage “weathering” (79). A critical point is that we are not necessarily talking about extreme conditions, but rather the chronic stresses of overcrowding, inadequate garbage

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removal, housing location near busy transportation routes, poor ventilation, etc.— conditions that are part of the everyday lives of the residents of many urban communities.

Methodologic Issues in Modeling Social Context The inclusion of social conditions in models of cumulative risk depends upon our ability to validly measure the various components of social context at appropriate scales of influence. Social context is inherently multi-level, comprising both micro and macro social conditions, and, it can be argued, everything in between. In their simplest form, multi-level studies typically include assessments at the individual and community-level, using some standard administrative unit to define community (e.g., health area, zip code, census tract, block, etc.). For example, exposure to poverty or substandard housing may be measured at the individual level (personal income, number of homeless episodes) and the community level (average income in the census tract, amount of concentrated poverty, proportion of imminently dangerous buildings, etc.). Similarly, exposure to chemical toxicants can be measured at the individual biomarker level or at the area level (e.g., concentration of pollutants in the indoor or outdoor air). Advances in statistical techniques that facilitate the modeling of multi-level influences and the growing interest in the use of geographic information systems have made analyses of community- and regional-level variation more feasible (80–83). A recent review of articles published prior to 1998 of the effect of local area social characteristics on various individual health outcomes in developed countries, controlling for individual socioeconomic status, found that all but two of the 25 reviewed studies reported a statistically significant association between at least one measure of the social environment and a health outcome, after adjusting for individual level socioeconomic status, despite heterogeneity in study designs, substitution of local area measures for neighborhood measures, and probable measurement error (84). Although multi-level studies in environmental health science are still relatively rare compared to individual-level or ecologicallevel investigations, the results of these studies nevertheless point to the potential importance of residential context on health. Multi-level analysis has the capacity to simultaneously assess the effects of individual-level and group-level exposures on individual outcomes (85). Such studies can address the question of whether local area characteristics have a measurable effect on outcome over and above individual exposures, or whether the apparent associations between aggregate measures and outcomes simply reflect individual-level characteristics of area residents. For example, does the mean income level in some defined community have an effect on individual outcome beyond the effect of individual income, and is the contextual effect independent of a given individual’s income (78). If individual and contextual factors both influence neurodevelopmental outcomes, then models that exclude one or the other set of risk factors are likely to be poorly specified and lead to misinterpretation of the effects of both individual and contextual-level factors. At the ecological level, the high correlation among various community characteristics poses problems in estimating the effects of distinct community characteristics. One way to get around this problem is to develop indices of related community-level constructs, but such indices may obscure the role of their distinct components. This could underestimate the association between a chemical exposure of interest and neurobehavioral outcome, if part of the chemical effect is carried by the association between the community quality index and the neurobehavior. Bellinger suggests using more differentiated measures of complex social constructs in order to

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control for only those aspects of community quality that do not reflect exposure opportunities (86). Despite progress in this area, problems persist with respect to the conceptualization of and the distinctions between micro- and macro-level social phenomena. Link and Phelan have proposed the notion of “fundamental social causes” of disease (87) to explain how resources (such as knowledge, power, money, prestige, and social connections) are linked to disease outcomes through multiple (often shifting) risk-factor mechanisms. The notion is that inequalities in health are a function of persistent social inequalities, regardless of the intervening individual-level exposures, many of which can be shown to vary over time. To date, few studies have managed to successfully differentiate macro from micro factors, especially with respect to statistical analysis (80,88). So-called mixed models and multi-level approaches are now being employed in epidemiological studies, but further refinement is needed. In fact, it seems obvious that the classification of “levels” into two or even three categories of influence is somewhat crude, since the definition of the higher level “units” and the borders between the various levels are frequently unclear. One rationale for inclusion of multi-level assessment in environmental health studies is that the main effects operating at the individual level cannot be adequately understood without reference to group-level data. As will be discussed in the second section of this chapter, multi-level modeling permits the testing of cross-level questions in which the impact of individual exposure to toxicants may depend upon or be conditioned by community-level conditions or social processes. What Are the Components of Social Context that Might Affect Health Outcomes? Robert (89) classifies community-level factors into three distinct, yet related components: social environment, service environment, and physical environment. In fact, most studies that discuss why social context should matter for health outcomes focus on similar set of factors, all of which fall under these three general categories. Community social environment typically refers to social relationships, level of neighborhood cohesion or disorganization, norms of reciprocity, civic participation, level of crime, and related attributes. These characteristics are hypothesized to influence health and development through a number of potential pathways, including social support, coping strategies, and exposure to chronic stress (90–95). Others suggest that social characteristics of neighborhoods, perhaps through shared cultural norms and values, may influence health behaviors (89,93–97). Neighborhood social cohesion and residential stability in turn can affect the overall quality of neighborhoods more generally. Neighborhood social context may be related to the degree of political organization, influencing residents’ ability to demand public services, such as sanitation, fire, police, and emergency services (51,89,92,98). Poor quality of such services in turn may have a direct impact on child development by increasing exposure to stressful circumstances and by making residents more vulnerable to the effects of intentional and unintentional injuries. Availability and quality of other goods and services, such as grocery stores, recreational opportunities, health care facilities, and retail stores, are also likely to vary by neighborhood characteristics with socially and economically disadvantaged communities having fewer services than wealthier areas (94,99–102). One study of the distribution of food stores found significantly fewer (three to four times) supermarkets in poor and black communities as compared to more affluent white communities (54). The quality of the physical environment, including exposure to toxicants, noise and air pollution, and quality of the housing stock and public space, can

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also have direct effects on individuals (90,93). Finally, residential location can also be related to availability of job and educational opportunities and thus influence health through family income and attained social status (89). Neighborhood context may be particularly important in explaining observed racial group differences in levels of toxic exposures. Racism and residential segregation has meant that black and white women, even with the same individual characteristics, are not exposed to equivalent everyday living conditions or access to resources. For example, African Americans are more likely than whites to live in neighborhoods with fewer highquality services, substandard housing, high rates of crime and violence, inadequate recreation areas, and greater numbers of “toxic” sites, such as diesel bus depots, waster transfer stations, and incinerators (51,103,104).

How Should Social Contextual Units Be Defined? Most studies that examine area-level variation or the effects of community context on health outcomes have used administrative or political boundaries to characterize neighborhoods and communities. In the United States, aggregate-level studies typically investigate area-level variation in health indicators at the level of the state (71,105), county, or metropolitan areas and central cities (57,106). Most, although not all, studies that integrate both individual and community-level characteristics in the analysis use U.S. census tracts as the neighborhood unit (90,92,97,100,107). Census block groups and alternative neighborhood boundaries are less frequently employed (94,108). Similarly, in European studies, political or administrative boundaries are typically used to define communities and neighborhoods (84). The choice of these units appears to be driven more by data availability and convenience than the fact that these areas are thought to represent neighborhoods as experienced by their residents. If geographic areas do not correspond to the actual geographical distribution of the causal factors linking social environments to health, these neighborhood units provide only a rough ecological profile and may not adequately capture the potential effects of community context on outcomes of interest (80,84). Surprisingly few studies have examined whether the way in which the neighborhood is defined matters. Elo et al. show that the way in which the neighborhood is defined (e.g., as a census block group, a tract, or a larger unit corresponding to two distinct Philadelphia neighborhood configurations) influences the extent to which racial differences in birth weight can be explained by neighborhood context (108). Using fixed effects estimates, block groups explain more of racial differences in birthweight than either census tracts or the alternative neighborhood configurations. Reijneveld et al. examined the same issue in Amsterdam using three different neighborhood definitions (neighborhoods, postal service code areas, and boroughs) to examine the effect of deprivation on adult health outcomes (109). The authors concluded that although the clustering of poor health was most pronounced at the neighborhood level, the choice of geographic classification had no effect on the magnitude of the deprivation effect. Despite their convenience, political and administrative units may not be the most appropriate way to delineate neighborhood boundaries. Furthermore, it may well be that different types of contextual influences operate at different levels of aggregation. Larger catchment areas, for example, may be appropriate for measuring availability of goods and services, such as health care facilities, recreational opportunities, and grocery stores, while smaller geographic units may be more appropriate for assessing the quality of housing stock, crime, and social characteristics of neighborhoods. In fact, changing the size of the

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aggregation area can actually alter study results by masking heterogeneity within the area units. Environmental health studies that pay explicit attention to these issues are needed to advance our understanding of contextual influences on health outcomes, over and above the toxic contribution to risk. There are at least two types of data that can be used to characterize community context. Most commonly, aggregate-level variables are based on characteristics of individuals residing in the area, and are sometimes called derived variables. Secondly, structural or integral variables, such as the availability of goods and services, can be used. These variables do not have equivalent measures at the individual-level (80,84). Because of the availability of census and administrative data on individuals, most multi-level studies include only aggregate-level variables derived from individual-level data. These data represent means, medians, and distributions of individual-level characteristics as household income, poverty status, educational attainment, occupation, etc. Although such group level characteristics can influence social environments, social norms, health behaviors, and characteristics of neighborhood-based social networks, these characteristics may also serve as proxies for structural or integral variables such as service availability, housing quality, etc. (80,110). A growing number of sociological and public health studies have included these latter types of community-level measures (102,107,111,112). Regardless of how neighborhoods are defined, multilevel research has helped to draw attention to the role of social structures in health, particularly with respect to the problem of persistent health disparities. However, as recently reviewed by Oakes, very few such studies have attended to the question of causal inference, or recognized that neighborhood effects may not be truly independent effects (113). Oakes suggests that future multi-level studies make use of social experimental designs to better understand the underlying causal processes and to use this understanding to design interventions that more effectively reduce risk and improve public health. Given the complex relationships between toxic exposures and social conditions, this type of methodology might be very productively applied in the field of environmental health science.

Analytic Implications of Co-exposure: Covariate or Confounder? Control for social covariates in studies of environmental risk is important because it may reduce error or “noise” in the model, but not necessarily because such covariates actually bias (or confound) the association between the chemical exposure and the outcome of interest. If confounding does occur, adjustment for those social factors corrects a bias when estimating the chemical exposure-disease relationship. Inclusion and accurate measurement of all possible social-contextual factors become very important in constructing models of risk assessment when confounding is suspected. Evidence from the lead literature in particular argues for the careful assessment of social and behavioral covariates in studies of neurodevelopment, and demonstrates that social covariates can be stronger predictors of neurodevelopment than the toxicant of interest. For example, Wasserman et al. (40) found that the quality of the HOME environment; maternal age, intelligence, education, and language; and birthweight and gender all showed significant associations with 4-year I.Q., accounting for 42.7% of the variance in the general cognitive index. Bellinger et al. (114) found that social factors (such as social class, maternal I.Q., marital status, preschool attendance, residential stability, HOME score, child care arrangements, and household composition), in addition

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to the level of concurrent lead exposure, were independently associated with degree of recovery from 24-month cognitive deficits. The lead and PCB studies also provide us with information about the contribution of confounding factors to cognitive performance during the preschool period. These data are consistent with previous reports suggesting that children from less advantaged circumstances express deficits at lower blood lead levels and the deficits are more persistent than among children in higher social strata (115). However, meta-analysis of low lead level exposures and child I.Q. suggests that the actual decrement in I.Q. associated with lead exposure was smaller among disadvantaged populations as compared to non-disadvantaged populations (116). This may be because it is more difficult to discern the effects of a relatively minor factor on child cognitive functioning in populations with high but variable exposures to many more important factors. That is, it may be much easier to isolate the effects of lead itself in a “clean” population. On the other hand, even a small decrement in I.Q. score in a population with a low mean I.Q. may be sufficient to drop an individual child’s score below the cut-point for special education placement or the threshold for developmental delay.

Future Directions in the Modeling of Social and Chemical Risk Geographic information system (GIS) technology is a useful tool in the field of environmental science to understand the complex spatio-temporal relationships between environmental pollution, social conditions, and disease. GIS is a powerful computer mapping and analysis tool that allows large quantities of information to be viewed and analyzed within a geographic context. Data from multiple sources, geographic (spatial) as well as non-geographic (demographics, median income, racial distribution, location of toxic release inventory sites), can be integrated and modeled using several functions like automated address matching (residential sites of subjects), distance function (proximity to roadways, toxic release inventory sites, and bus depots), and buffer analysis. These methods have been used to estimate relationships between environmental contaminants and adverse health effects (117,118). Guthe and colleagues (119) assigned lead exposures in the Newark, NJ, area to predict populations of children at high risk of exposure. Glass and colleagues (120) used GIS to investigate residential environmental risk factors for lyme disease in Baltimore County, MD. Recently, Kohli and colleagues (121) used GIS methods to identify individuals living in areas with high background concentrations of radon in Sweden. The Centers for Disease Control has developed a mapping program, Epi-Map, describing the spatial distribution of disease occurrence (122). These reports indicate that the GIS approach can be an effective tool for quantifying exposures of individuals to environmental agents. These can simply include counts of the housing hazard or condition within a specified search radius of a woman’s house or, more appropriately, the concentration of the hazard measured as a density. While simple counts can be calculated using vector GIS, which uses points, lines, and polygons to represent map features, densities rely on raster GIS, which use grids made up of regular shaped cells to represent the change in values over space. In addition to overcoming issues with aggregation/zoning and scale effects, this approach to measuring neighborhood-level variables with raster densities at multiple scales also promises to increase the variance across the study sample. By using raster densities and testing the effects of different scales, this approach will help to distinguish the many different social and physical contexts from which the cohort families are drawn.

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INTERACTIONS BETWEEN SOCIAL AND CHEMICAL RISKS Until very recently, progress in methods for the assessment of multiple cumulative risks has evolved somewhat separately from the literature addressing social contextual effects on human environmental health. Cumulative environmental risk models rarely include social factors (6), and studies that do address the role of social factors in environmental health typically treat such conditions as confounders rather than exploring their potentially interactive effects with one or more chemical exposures (123). In the first case, estimates of neurotoxic effects may be biased because of uncontrolled or residual confounding by unmeasured social factors (124). In the second case, failure to test effect modification may result in under- or over-estimation of neurotoxic effects in different populations so that findings lack ecological validity. Improving the validity of risk assessment in studies of human developmental neurotoxicity will require an integrated approach in which social conditions are incorporated into models of environmental risk assessment. The meaning of interactions involving social and physical environmental factors depends upon the level of analysis. At the individual biological level, interaction is perhaps more approporiately called synergism, and refers to a biological response produced by simultaneous exposure to two or more agents that exceeds the combined action of the agents when working independently (125). Synergistic agents work together mechanistically at the cellular level. Although this type of interaction is not the primary focus of this chapter, it is important to keep in mind that co-exposure to multiple chemical risks, regardless of social context, may involve synergistic mechanisms. Statistical interaction, observed as effect modification, does not usually refer to mechanisms of action at the biological level, but may be observed in populations. This use of the term refers to whether an effect measure varies in value over categories, based on the level of some other factor, either cross-sectionally or over time. The mechanism may or may not be biological, but can have important public health implications regardless of mechanism. It is this second type of interaction that is addressed here, specifically the modulation of chemical risk by social factors or vice-versa. The theoretical and empirical bases for the adverse health effects of possible interactions between social adversity and environmental exposures have been recently reviewed elsewhere (2). Susceptibility as Effect Modification Of particular relevance to the social-ecological perspective in environmental science is the notion of biological susceptibility, whereby one or more exposures renders the organism vulnerable to other, often subsequent, exposures to the same or different toxicants, but may be relatively harmless in the absence of the additional exposure (126). Sometimes, this phenomenon can be seen in the form of delayed, latent, or lagged effects in which the neurobehavioral damage is only apparent when the individual matures and is faced with new developmental challenges or stressors. In other cases, the individual is more vulnerable to the harmful effects of an exposure during some critical developmental period, in which case the vulnerability results from an interaction of the exposure with age. While identifying critical periods during which various exposures are likely to be most toxic is important for risk assessment, the often chronic nature of low-level exposures to many chemical agents and social adversities makes interaction effects with age (or time) difficult to model. Longitudinal studies of low-level lead exposure and PCB exposure on children’s cognitive function in the preschool years provide a reasonable example of susceptibility as a function of the timing of multiple exposures to a toxic agent. In a cohort of 170 middle

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and upper-middle class children, Bellinger et al. (115) reported that the effects of prenatal low-level lead exposure on cognitive function decrease between 24 and 57 months, as measured by the McCarthy Scales of Children’s Abilities, except among children with higher concurrent lead exposure. The impact of early postnatal exposures on cognitive performance was however detected at 57 months, with main effect sizes of 6.4 I.Q. points, and an adjusted decrement of 2.95 points in 57-month general cognitive index score for each natural log unit increase in 24-month lead level. This suggests that the extent to which children with high levels of prenatal exposure “recovered” from deficits manifested at 24 months varied with level of concurrent lead exposure. Furthermore, the cognitive deficits associated with exposure to environmental lead in early childhood appear to be only partially reversed by a subsequent decline in blood lead level (127). Adverse neurobehavioral effects of low-level exposures may appear at various ages as the child matures, develops capacities, or faces challenges, with or without mediating effects on birth weight, length or head circumference (128,129). Wilhelm et al. (130) observed a 10–20% increase in the risk of term LBW and preterm birth in infants born to women living close to heavily-trafficked roadways and therefore likely exposed to higher levels of motor vehicle exhaust. Stronger effects were observed for women whose third trimesters fall during fall/winter months, who lived in high background air pollution areas, and/or who lived in more impoverished areas. Data from the Columbia Center for Children’s Environmental Health show an interactive effect between exposure to polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons and environmental tobacco smoke on reduced birth weight (131). There is also some limited biological evidence for racial differences in susceptibility or response to specific toxic agents. For example, higher levels of cotinine have been reported in black smokers than in white smokers, after controlling for self-reported amount of smoking (47,132). In one study, African American children had two-fold higher cotinine levels than Caucasian children as a result of exposure to one cigarette per day (133). Similarly, after adjusting for cigarette dose, cotinine levels in pregnant women were higher in African Americans than in Caucasians, while the rate of decrease in infant birth weight per nanogram of cotinine was similar in the two groups (134). The findings of a higher internal dose of tobacco smoke constituent metabolites per unit exposure are consistent with the higher risk of smoking-related lung cancer in African Americans. They also point to the possibility that cigarette smoking among African Americans may have a more deleterious effect on fetal development (134). With respect to toxicant effect modification by aspects of the social environment, Sadler et al. have reported that prenatal ETS exposure was associated with small size-forgestational-age only among low-income women, with no ETS effect for the higher income group (135). Weiss compares the effects of lead toxicity in advantaged and disadvantaged communities, and demonstrates how, while harmful lead effects may appear to be stronger among more socio-economically advantaged children, the actual number of children added to the developmentally delayed category as a result of lead exposure is far greater (and more costly) in less advantaged populations (136). Jacobson and Jacobson (137) found that breast-fed children were less vulnerable to the adverse cognitive effects of prenatal consumption of PCBs, possibly because of higher quality parenting among breast-fed infants. They also found that the adverse neurobehavioral effects of prenatal PCB exposure were stronger among children with less verbal mothers. Other studies have reported modulation of the teratogenic effects of antenatal cocaine exposure on a range of neurobehavioral outcomes by social factors, such as public assistance, multiparity, and caregiving or early intervention (138,139).

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Such interactions may reflect a kind of cumulative risk whereby children who are exposed prenatally to single or multiple neurotoxicants are rendered more susceptible to the developmental challenges posed by deprivation and/or stressful living conditions in the early years of life (140). Subsequent hardships may not be well-tolerated by children who have been prenatally exposed to chemical toxicants. Mayes provides a relevant behavioral teratogenic model in which prenatal cocaine exposure affects arousal regulatory mechanisms, resulting in the young child’s vulnerability to environments characterized by impaired parenting and other social stressors (141). According to this model, adaptation to challenging situations depends on an individual’s threshold for activation of the catecholamine and norepinephrin arousal system, and this threshold may be impaired by the prenatal toxicant exposure. Animal models have also shown that prenatal and early postnatal exposure to nicotine can modulate catecholamine gene expression or neuroendocrine regulation (142,143), and recent evidence from animal and human studies has shown that maternal stress may mediate associations between socioeconomic adversity and early childhood cognition (144,145). This model suggests that it may be important to identify early caretaking conditions that are developmentally protective, such that some children, despite prenatal toxicant exposure, are able to compensate and enjoy a more optimal developmental trajectory.

Biological Sources of Susceptibility to Neurotoxicants Social Stress From a biological perspective, the term “stress” is used to describe any physical or psychological challenge that threatens the stability of the internal milieu of the organism (homeostasis). Exposure to any kind of stressor may pose a challenge requiring adaptive physiological response. In practice, life poses a series of challenges from early development through the aging process, each requiring adaptive functioning and readjustment. However, individuals differ in the amount and adversity of exposures as well as their capacity to adapt. Various coping mechanisms and supports may be used to enhance adaptation along the way, and it may be that chronic stressors require very different kinds of coping than more acute situations. It is also clear that not all coping strategies are positive or effective in restoring balance. Distress, and possibly illness, occurs when stress levels exceed the capacity of the individual to adapt. Distress may be conceptualized as a state of homeostatic imbalance or dysregulation. The presence of distress, reflecting the inability of the individual to self-regulate in the face of some challenge, thus suggests a kind of susceptibility or characteristic hypothalamic-pituitary axis (HPA) response that can be long-lasting (146). In both children and adults, distress may be accompanied by a sense of vulnerability and powerlessness, and may actually increase the likelihood of engaging in other high risk health-related behaviors. The biology of the stress response (and some experimental evidence from animal studies) suggests that early hazardous exposures may affect the capacity of the individual to adapt or self-regulate with long-lasting harmful effects on health and well-being. For example, experimental models have shown that prenatal and early postnatal exposure to nicotine can alter catecholamine gene expression or neuroendocrine regulation involved in response to stress (143). Other evidence from animal models as well as clinical studies with humans suggests that gestational events may permanently influence the development of the HPA-axis and, in particular, the central corticotrophin-releasing factor systems, which then affect behavioral, autonomic, and endocrine functioning in later life (146).

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Although we are limited to observational studies or natural experiments in humans, the notion that early hazardous exposure may impair a child’s capacity to adapt or selfregulate when faced with subsequent challenges is consistent with the observation that the negative consequences of early lead exposure become manifest with increasing developmental challenges. The toxicity of the exposure may be latent, or “silent,” and not apparent until additional demands supervene (147). Again, the resulting failure to adapt is experienced as a kind of dysregulation or distress. This biological model would strongly point to gestation and early childhood as periods of tremendous vulnerability. A clinical illustration of this biological model involves the observation that infants exposed to tobacco smoke (active maternal smoking) in utero are at higher risk for SIDS than unexposed infants (148). These infants show reduced physiological capacity to compensate for challenges (physiological stressors) that lead to decreases in blood pressure (149,150). This is manifested by altered patterns of heart rate and heart rate variability in response to blood pressure challenge in the first few days of life (151). The hypothesized mechanism is that prenatal toxic exposures lead to a defect in brainstem mechanisms that insure proper integration of cardiac, vascular, and respiratory activity. Fetal and early infant patterns of autonomic dysregulation appear to be relatively stable over time, and are associated with response to novelty at 4 months (152), infant difficultness, inability to adapt, reactivity, and attention problems at 12 months of age (153,154). This work has important implications for subsequent problems in processing frequently encountered stimuli, such as might be seen in attentional problems, impulsivity, or other learning problems. To date, it is not clear if early patterns of autonomic dysregulation are reflected in subsequent behavior, attention, or learning problems, especially under highly stressful early life conditions. This mechanistic pathway, linking fetal toxic exposures with later childhood behaviors and/or learning problems, has so far received little attention by environmental toxicologists. Recent evidence from animal and human studies has shown that prenatal and early postnatal stressful exposures may also modulate toxicant effects on the developing fetus (155–157). Nutrition Another source of individual susceptibility to a range of toxicants may include nutritional deficits (i.e., lower intake of essential micronutrients, such as antioxidants, essential fatty acids). Antioxidant vitamins (A, C, or E) remove free radicals and oxidant intermediates, thereby inhibiting chemical-DNA binding which has been associated with decreased weight, length, and head circumference at birth (158), with possible implications for subsequent neurodevelopment. They have also been shown to reduce PAH-DNA damage in smokers, alone or in combination with the GSTM1 null genotype (159). In addition, essential fatty acid (EFA), such as arachidonic acid (AA) and docosahexaenoic acid (DHA), are required for proper fetal and infant brain development, especially during the last trimester of pregnancy (160). Reduced levels of AA have been associated with deficits in fetal growth (161). In full-term infants, plasma levels of DHA at 16 weeks have been correlated with the psychomotor and gross motor scores of the Gesell Developmental Index at 48 to 60 weeks (162), and Bayley Mental Development Index (163). Poor nutrition may also amplify the toxicity of some specific environmental exposures such as lead, whose uptake is competitively inhibited by adequate calcium consumption. At the population level, there is some evidence that disadvantaged minorities are more susceptible to the toxic effects of certain exposures, at least partly because of nutritional or other deficiencies (114). Although some nutritional deficits are associated with poverty, there is considerable inter-individual variation in nutritional status within

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socioeconomically disadvantaged populations. Taken together, these reports lend support to the idea that at least some adverse developmental effects of toxicants may be exacerbated by dietary deficits. Genetic Factors Genetic susceptibility may take the form of common polymorphisms that can affect metabolism, hence neurotoxicity as well as carcinogenicity in the individual. The P450 (CYP1A1) gene plays a role in activation of PAH to DNA-binding intermediates (164,165). The glutathione-S-transferase genes are involved in detoxification of PAH and other environmental carcinogens (166). The prevalence of certain of these polymorphisms ranges from 10–50%. A recent study reported a 1285 g reduction in birth weight and 5.2 weeks reduction in gestational age among smoking mothers with the CYP1A1 Aa/aa and GSTT1 absent genotypes, revealing a significant interaction between maternal active smoking and metabolic genes in a moderately large urban sample (167). This interaction has not yet been tested for ETS or PAH. As noted above, there is also some evidence for race/ethnic differences in biological response to specific toxicants, and it is likely that this reflects some type of gene– environment interaction. Race/ethnicity may also be a marker for some other condition or exposure that moderates the impact of the toxicant, such as chronic social adversity. As noted earlier in the chapter, higher levels of cotinine have been reported in African American smokers than in white smokers, after controlling for self-reported amount of smoking (132,168,169), specifically among African American women (134) and children (133). The finding of higher internal dose of tobacco smoke constituent metabolites per unit exposure in African Americans versus whites is consistent with the higher risk of smoking-related lung cancer in African Americans and points to the possibility that cigarette smoking among African Americans may have a more deleterious effect on fetal development. Effect Modification in Multi-Level Models This type of effect modification is perhaps most difficult to conceptualize and test because it implies a kind of cross-level effect whereby individual level effects are moderated by community-level conditions. This would mean, for example, that the effect of a toxic exposure on an individual would depend upon some attribute of the community in which that individual resides. This effect modification would not be explained by interactions with other individual-level psychological or social exposures. For example, Gee and Takeuchi reported that ecologically measured vehicular burden interacted with individually perceived stress such that people living in areas with greater vehicular burden and reporting the most traffic stress also had the lowest health status and greatest depressive symptoms (170). In a study of community characteristics and child maltreatment, The Project on Human Development in Chicago Neighborhoods found that neighborhood social networks interacted with individual Hispanic ethnicity to affect the amount of physical abuse used by individual families (171). The authors interpreted this finding to make the point that neighborhood-level interventions may be the most effective way to reduce rates of child abuse in certain populations. Such findings, from both the fields of environmental science and sociology, suggest that studies which examine factors at only one level (either individual level only or ecological level only) may underestimate the effect of the social environment and potentially miss an opportunity for intervention to reduce risk.

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Other researchers would say that there is simply no evidence for this type of effect (113). Here it is worthwhile to rethink the many possible forms of community-level effects (such as those conferred by social norms, high crime rates, concentrated poverty, deteriorated environment, lack of local services, etc.), and to determine whether any apparent cross-level effects are actually explained by previously unmeasured individual factors. For example, if an interaction between neighborhood food supply and lead toxicity were observed, one would have to rule out the effects of individual diet. As suggested by Oakes (113) and Kaufman and Cooper (172), carefully conceptualized experimental studies involving social interventions may be the most useful design to test such hypotheses, in large part because of the enormous difficulty in ruling out the role of an almost infinite number of unobserved individual-level factors as alternative explanations. Such caution in no way undermines the thinking that strong social forces and structural conditions have significant health and developmental effect, but these effects (whether main, moderating, or mediating) are difficult to prove in observational epidemiological studies. The ecological perspective in studies of neurotoxicity can enrich our understanding of biological processes. Inclusion of this perspective may be the only way to effectively reduce some types of risk, but it remains a challenging area.

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154. DiPietro J, Hodgson D, Costigan K, Johnson T. Development of fetal movement–fetal heart rate coupling from 20 weeks through term. Early Hum Dev 1996; 44:139–151. 155. Meaney MJ, Brake W, Gratton A. Environmental regulation of the development of mesolimbic dopamine systems: a neurobiological mechanism for vulnerability to drug abuse? Psychoneuroendocrinology 2002; 27:127–138. 156. McEwen BS. Protective and damaging effects of stress mediators. NEJM 1998; 338:171–179. 157. McEwen BS, Stellar E. Stress and the individual: Mechanisms leading to disease. Arch Intern Med 1992; 153:2093–2101. 158. Perera FP, Whyatt RM, Jedrychowski W, et al. Recent developments in molecular epidemiology: a study of the effects of environmental polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons on birth outcomes in Poland. Am J Epidemiol 1998; 147:309–314. 159. Mooney LA, Santella RM, Covey L, et al. Decline on DNA damage and other biomarkers in peripheral blood following smoking cessation. Cancer Epidemiol Biomarkers Prev 1995; 4:627–634. 160. Wood KA, Youle RJ. The role of free radicals and p53 in neuron apoptosis in vivo. J Neurosci 1995; 15:5851–5857. 161. Crawford FG, Mayer J, Santella RM, et al. Biomarkers of environmental tobacco smoke in preschool children and their mothers. J Natl Cancer Inst 1994; 86:1398–1402. 162. Voigt RG, Jensen CL, Fraley JK, Rozelle JC, Brown FR, IIIrd, Heird WC. Relationship between omega3 long-chain polyunsaturated fatty acid status during early infancy and neurodevelopmental status at 1 yr of age. J Hum Nutr Diet 2002; 15:111–120. 163. Bjerve KS, Brubakk AM, Fougner KJ, Johnsen H, Midthjell K, Vik T. Omega-3 fatty acids: essential fatty acids with important biological effects, and serum phospholipid fatty acids as markers of dietary omega-3 fatty acid intake. Am J Clin Nutr 1993; 57:801S–805S. 164. Whyatt RM, Bell DA, Santella RM, et al. Polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbon-DNA adducts in human placenta and modulation by CYP1A1 induction and genotype. Carcinogenesis 1998; 19:1389–1392. 165. Perera FP. Molecular epidemiology: on the path to prevention? J Natl Cancer Inst 2000; 92:602–612. 166. Helzlsouer KJ, Selmin O, Huang HY, et al. Association between glutathione S-transferase M1, P1, and T1 genetic polymorphisms and development of breast cancer. J Natl Cancer Inst 1998; 90:512–518. 167. Wang X, Zuckerman B, Pearson C, et al. Maternal cigarette smoking, metabolic gene polymorphism, and infant birth weight. JAMA 2002; 287:195–202. 168. Wagenknecht LE, Manolio TA, Sidney S, Burke GL, Haley NJ. Environmental tobacco smoke exposure as determined by cotinine in black and white young adults: the CARDIA study. Environ Res 1993; 63:39–46. 169. Wagenknecht LE, Burke GL, Perkins LL, Haley NJ, Friedman GD. Misclassification of smoking status in the CARDIA study: A comparison of self-report with serum cotinine levels. Am J Public Health 1992; 82:33–36. 170. Gee GC, Takeuchi DT. Traffic stress, vehicular burden and well-being: a multilevel analysis. Soc Sci Med 2004; 59:405–414. 171. Molnar BE, Buka SL, Brennan RT, Holton JK, Earls F. A multilevel study of neighborhoods and parent-to-child physical aggression: results from the project on human development in Chicago neighborhoods. Child Maltreat 2003; 8:84–97. 172. Kaufman JS, Cooper RS. Seeking causal explanations in social epidemiology. Am J Epidem 1999; 150:113–120.

20 Assessing the Neurobehavioral Effects of Early Toxicant Exposure: A Perspective from Animal Research Barbara J. Strupp Division of Nutritional Sciences and Department of Psychology, Cornell University, Ithaca, New York, U.S.A.

Stephane A. Beaudin Division of Nutritional Sciences, Cornell University, Ithaca, New York, U.S.A.

INTRODUCTION Animal models play an essential role in determining whether exposure to a putative neurotoxicant impairs cognitive and/or emotional functioning. Such studies circumvent a thorny problem that commonly plagues studies with humans; namely, that exposure to the toxicant occurs within the context of sociodemographic factors that themselves place children at risk for impaired cognitive and emotional development (e.g., poverty, poor health care, low maternal education and IQ; maternal depression; low intellectual stimulation in the home). The demonstration of cognitive deficits in animal models, under conditions in which these confounded risk factors are absent, is often pivotal in convincing regulatory agencies that exposure to a particular substance does indeed cause adverse effects. Studies with animals can also elucidate the neural mechanisms that underlie altered neurobehavioral functioning and provide model systems for the development and testing of possible treatments (e.g., pharmacotherapy, chelating agents). Despite these potential contributions of animal models, some may have nagging concerns about the feasibility or appropriateness of this endeavor. Concerns may relate to whether laboratory animals, particularly rodents (the species of choice due to cost, sample size considerations, ethical concerns, etc.), are sufficiently advanced in terms of cognitive and emotional functioning to serve as a valid predictor of toxicant-induced effects in humans in these same domains. It is also reasonable to ask whether the brains of rats and mice are sufficiently similar to humans to support this endeavor. In light of these concerns, it is very encouraging that cross-species comparisons have found close correspondence regarding the neurobehavioral, neuropathological, and neurochemical effects of exposure to those toxicants where there are available data. For example, early developmental exposure to methylmercury has been found to produce similar neuropathological, sensory, and cognitive effects in rodents, monkeys, and humans (1,2). Similarly, compelling 415

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cross-species similarity has been found with regards to the specific neurobehavioral effects produced by early exposure to lead (3–5), alcohol (6), and PCBs (7). Further support for the validity of using rodent and non-human primate models to study the neurobehavioral effects of toxicant exposure is provided by studies demonstrating correspondence in the functional roles of various neural systems between rats, monkeys, and humans. Such correspondence is very clear for structures such as the amygdala (8,9), hippocampus (10–14) and basal ganglia (15). Although some concerns have been raised regarding the use of rodent models to study frontal cortical function (16), several studies have demonstrated strong parallels between rodents and primates regarding the functions of different areas of the frontal cortex (11,17–22). For example, experimental lesions of the orbitofrontal cortex (OFC) have been found to produce comparable cognitive deficits in rats and monkeys (22). Neurophysiological data also suggest common specializations of information integration between the OFC of rats and monkeys (23). Similarly, it has been argued that the PFC of rats is similar to the comparable region in monkeys as defined by connectional, neurochemical, and functional criteria (16,22).

CONSIDERATIONS IN TASK SELECTION AND DESIGN As in studies concerning other functional or morphological domains, the success of this endeavor depends on the selection of endpoints. In this chapter, we discuss two major considerations in the selection and design of cognitive and/or behavioral tasks and dependent measures: (1) sensitivity (being able to detect dysfunction if it exists); and (2) specificity (being able to say something about the nature of the dysfunction). Although many of the presented examples pertain to animal research, the issues that must be considered in designing a successful animal study in this area are similar, if not identical, to the considerations that drive the parallel studies with human subjects. Many of the examples are drawn from our own work, not necessarily because they are the gold standard for which to strive, but rather because these are approaches we have found useful and know them best. Sensitivity An overarching consideration in neurobehavioral toxicology studies—as in all areas of toxicology—is sensitivity: being confident that one will detect dysfunction if it exists. With respect to “neurobehavioral” function, sensitivity depends on tapping a broad range of functions. Different cognitive, affective, and sensory functions are biologically distinct; that is, they depend on different neural systems, and can therefore be independently altered. As a result, unless the investigator taps a broad range of functions, it is very likely that dysfunction will be missed. Although this general perspective tends to guide assessment of sensory function (i.e., different sensory systems are each assessed), appreciation of this issue is less apparent with respect to assessments of cognitive functioning, at least with respect to animal testing. a This problem is illustrated by the EPA

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Guidelines for human neurotoxicology assessments reflect greater cognizance of these issues, as illustrated by the recommendations of a working group convened by the ATSDR in 1991, which lists many different cognitive, sensory, and affective domains that must all be included to constitute a thorough assessment (24).

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Health Effects Test Guidelines for Developmental Neurotoxicity testing [(25); OPPTS 870.6300]. These guidelines recommend assessing “.developmental landmarks, motor activity, auditory startle test, a test of associative learning and memory, and neuropathology.” The implication is that some representative “learning and memory” test can serve as an index of the functional integrity of the many cognitive functions that contribute to normal intellectual functioning. This perspective ignores the fact that different aspects of cognitive functioning depend on distinct neural systems. As a result, a particular neurotoxicant can profoundly impair one aspect of cognitive, sensory, or affective functioning, but leave many others entirely intact. Consequently, performance will be altered on certain tasks but not others. This point is illustrated by the cognitive effects of damage to the hippocampus and surrounding cortical areas, collectively referred to as the medial temporal lobe. Damage limited to the medial temporal lobe results in a profound impairment in explicit or declarative memory function (i.e., global anterograde amnesia), which refers to the ability to remember events, facts, and people (14). However, individuals with medial temporal lobe damage may appear normal in casual conversation because so many other aspects of cognitive functioning are entirely intact, including speech and verbal comprehension, attention, perception, short-term memory, retrieval of remote memories (memories formed before the brain damage), and some forms of long-term memory, collectively referred to as implicit memory (ability to learn and remember cognitive and motor skills; priming, conditioning) (26). Indeed, such individuals perform normally on IQ tests, despite amnesia so profound that they remember little or nothing of the events that have occurred since their brain injury (27–29). Similarly, many discrimination tasks commonly used in animal studies do not reveal impairments in learning or long-term retention following complete bilateral removal of the medial temporal lobes; one example drawn from research with non-human primates is learning of a 2-choice pattern discrimination (30,31). Although mastery and retention of such tasks require memory, they appear to depend on implicit, rather than explicit, memory function; they are solved slowly and incrementally, like a habit. In contrast, tests specifically designed to assess explicit memory function, such as the delayed non-matching-to-sample task (DNMS), reveal dramatic impairment in animals and humans with damage to the medial temporal lobe (14,32–34). Implications of Picking a “Representative” Learning Task This recommendation to pick some representative “learning and memory” test as an index of “cognitive function” is of grave concern for toxicology studies, as illustrated by the aforementioned primate studies of medial temporal lobe damage as well as by studies of animal models of PKU or hypothyroidism, two conditions that produce profound mental retardation (MR) in humans. Of the roughly 28 behavioral tasks that have been used to assess cognitive functioning in these two MR animal models, more than half (approximately 17) failed to reveal impairment in the experimental group relative to controls (35,36). The failure to detect group differences with these latter tasks is unlikely to reflect inadequacies of the pharmacological manipulations used to reproduce these two disorders, as many other tasks did reveal significant group differences. A more likely explanation is that each of these early insults produced lasting deficits in some, but not all, cognitive and affective functions, and that these tasks differ in the extent to which they tap these areas of impairment. Although all of these tasks tap “learning and memory,” they differ in the extent to which they assess the myriad cognitive and affective functions that are important for optimal performance on cognitive tasks. Examples include associative

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ability, implicit and explicit memory function, selective attention, sustained attention, divided attention, attentional set shifting, inhibitory control, transfer of learning, allocentric and egocentric coding of spatial information, susceptibility to proactive interference, and emotion regulation. In addition, neither “learning” nor “memory” is a unitary construct. As discussed above, there are different types of memory that are biologically independent (e.g., explicit vs. implicit memory). Similarly, there are different types of learning, which depend on different neural circuitry. For example, the ability to form stimulus-reward associations is thought to depend on circuitry involving the basolateral amygdala and ventral striatum (8,37–39), whereas learning of stimulusresponse associations depends on a different circuit, centrally involving the basal ganglia (15,39–41). The sensitivity of any given test in revealing dysfunction in these two experimental MR models will depend on the extent to which that test taps the particular deficits produced by that early insult. These findings demonstrate that the risk of missing existing dysfunction is very great with the approach of selecting a “representative learning and memory test.” In the case of these animal models of MR syndromes, the majority of such tasks did not reveal impairment in the experimental group, in sharp contrast to the profound cognitive impairment that characterizes the analogous human condition. Had these been studies designed to assess the risk of some substance with unknown risk potential, the majority would have reached erroneous conclusions, with potentially devastating public health consequences. The solution, therefore, is to administer a battery of tasks that taps a broad range of cognitive and affective functions, dependent on distinct neural systems. Unfortunately, this labor-intensive approach cannot be circumvented by ranking behavioral tests in terms of sensitivity and then always relying on the one or two most sensitive tests. The test that will be most sensitive in any given case depends on the nature of the brain damage. A test that is exquisitely sensitive to one neurotoxicant may be totally insensitive to another and vice versa, if the two insults damage different neural systems. This phenomenon, referred to as a “double dissociation” in the field of neuropsychology, is illustrated by the results of a non-human primate study involving bilateral damage to the hippocampal formation (H) or the amgydaloid complex (42). Monkeys with the H lesion were dramatically impaired on tests of explicit memory function, such as the delayed-nonmatch-to sample test, but performed normally on a test of emotional behavior. In contrast, partial or complete damage to the amygdaloid complex impaired emotional behavior but not explicit memory. In some cases, available neuropathological and/or clinical data provide clues as to which areas of functioning are most likely to be altered, which can guide task selection. For example, if there is evidence that exposure to the toxicant alters hippocampal cytoarchitecture and/or transmitter systems, then behavioral studies with animals should surely include one or more tasks that tap hippocampal function, i.e., declarative memory; examples include the delayed non-match to sample (DNMTS) test, the radial arm maze, or the Morris water maze. In other cases, the available data may pertain to specific clinical syndromes that seem to be linked to exposure to the toxicant, based on epidemiological studies and/or clinical experience. For example, exposure to the suspected toxicant may be related to an increased risk of ADHD, suggesting that the follow-up animal studies focus on measures of impulse control and attentional dysfunction (43). Note, too, that clinical symptoms can guide task selection for animal studies even in cases where the symptoms are difficult to model in animals, although the approach must be more circuitous. Consider the situation where exposure to the toxicant is associated with low scores on the pattern construction subtest of the Differential Abilities Scales, with a pattern of deficits that implicates damage to parietal cortex. It is not at all clear how to devise a similar task for

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rats or mice, and if one attempted to do so, it is very possible that the brain region(s) on which the task depended would be different in rodents and humans. Rather, as the pattern of deficits seen clinically implicated damage to parietal cortex, a better approach for the rodent studies would be to include tasks known to be sensitive to parietal damage in the particular species (rat or mouse); examples for the rat include the cheeseboard task (44) or the item memory task (45). The goal of tapping a broad range of cognitive and affective functions could theoretically be achieved through the use of either apical (or global) tests or tests designed to provide indices of specific cognitive functions. It is not possible to state a priori which type of test will be more sensitive; this will likely depend on the nature of the dysfunction. If the toxicant produces a small effect on many different cognitive functions, global measures such as IQ tests may be more sensitive because the many small effects summate in terms of the performance score. In contrast, if the resulting deficit is very circumscribed, it is likely that a test specifically designed to tap that function will be more sensitive than a global measure which only depends on this one affected function to a small degree. There are several other benefits of administering tests that provide indices of specific functions; these are discussed below. Cognitive Functions Neglected in Animal Assessments Although it may be recognized, from a theoretical perspective, that it is necessary to tap a broad range of functions, in practice, some functions are more frequently tapped than others in animal studies of toxicant exposure. It is most common to assess the animals’ ability to learn relatively simple associations involving very salient predictive cues; memory function is also frequently assessed. In contrast, several other functions are rarely evaluated, including some that appear to be especially vulnerable to early brain damage. Four such neglected functions are: (1) executive functions of the prefrontal cortices (including selective attention, planning, set maintenance, and inhibition), (2) transfer of learning, (3) regulation of affect or emotions, particularly as it interfaces with cognitive functioning; and (4) intrinsically-motivated learning (including latent or incidental learning). We suggest that the failure to evaluate these processes in many prior studies of early toxicant exposure may have resulted in an underestimate of the existing dysfunction and advocate the assessment of these functions in future studies. The first three are discussed below. Due to space constraints, intrinsically-motivated learning is not discussed here, but the interested reader can refer to several earlier publications in which we have discussed this aspect of cognition in relation to early brain damage (35,46–48). Executive Functions. There is suggestive evidence that some neural systems in the brain are more vulnerable than others to disruption by genetic and environmental factors. Pennington (49) describes five domains of brain function that account for nearly all learning disorders in children: phonological processing, executive functions, spatial cognition, social cognition, and long-term memory. He argues that these five domains (and their associated neural systems) are differentially vulnerable to developmental insult or variation. This postulate is based on the fact that observed developmental cognitive disorders are not divided equally between these five modular systems. Rather, the majority of such disorders appear to reflect dysfunction in just two domains: executive functions and phonological processing. Based on this pattern, he suggests that the neural systems on which these functions depend—the prefrontal cortices and the left hemisphere language system, respectively—are uniquely vulnerable to developmental insult (49). If this proposal is correct, assessment of these functions would be particularly important to

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include in neurobehavioral batteries devised to assess early toxicant exposure in either humans or experimental animals. It is therefore of concern that tests specifically designed to tap executive functioning are not commonly included in animal studies of toxicant exposure. Studies with human subjects, too, often rely on global cognitive measures such as IQ tests, which are relatively insensitive to executive function deficits (50,51). For example, patients suffering from injuries to the prefrontal lobes show little or no change in their IQ scores as a function of such lesions (52). The suggestion that executive functions subserved by the prefrontal cortices may be uniquely vulnerable to early insult is illustrated by the cognitive profile that characterizes individuals exposed to cocaine in utero. The impairment produced by prenatal cocaine exposure appears to be surprisingly selective, with deficits limited to two domains: (1) various aspects of attention (selective attention, sustained attention, ability to stay consistently “on task”); and (2) regulation of arousal or affect, including the reaction to committing an error (discussed below). Because interpretation of the human data in this area is complicated by the presence of numerous confounders (e.g., use of other licit and illicit drugs, maternal depression, violence in the home, low maternal education and IQ), we focus here on data from a rodent model, using an intravenous injection protocol that closely mimics the pharmacokinetic profile and physiological effects of recreational cocaine use (53). Adult rats exposed to cocaine in utero exhibited impaired sustained attention (54) as well as a deficit in staying consistently “on task” (55) in a visual attention task in which the time of onset, location, and duration of a brief visual cue varied randomly between trials. Selective attention was also impaired, based on the results of several types of tasks (56–58). For example, the performance of the cocaine-exposed animals was more disrupted than that of controls by the unpredictable presentation of olfactory distractors in a visual attention task (Fig. 1) (57). Notably, the groups did not differ on trials without an olfactory distractor,

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Figure 1 Mean (C/KSEM) percentage premature responses in a distraction task in which olfactory distractors were presented at various intervals before onset of the visual cue, on some trials. Prenatal cocaine exposure increased premature responses when distractors were presented, an effect that was most pronounced when the distractor was presented 1 sec after trial onset, the condition that placed the greatest demand on selective attention [Treatment Group!Distraction Condition, F(6, 1093)Z2.52, pZ0.02 # pZ0.06, -p!0.05, --p!0.01]. Source: Adapted from Ref. 57.

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ruling out various alternative explanations for the impaired performance on distraction trials (e.g., impaired visual acuity, reduced motivation, motor dysfunction, impaired comprehension of task rules). Converging evidence for deficient selective attention was provided by the pattern of results in a series of extradimensional shift tasks: the cocaineexposed animals were impaired relative to controls when shifted from a task involving salient predictive cues (olfactory) and subtle irrelevant cues (spatial) to one in which the predictive cues were now the subtle cues and the salient cues were now irrelevant to the attainment of reward. In contrast, their learning rate did not differ from controls when shifted to a task in which the predictive cues (olfactory) were more salient than the irrelevant cues (spatial). This pattern of effects suggests that, for the cocaine-exposed animals, attention was “captured” by the most salient environmental cues, with the result that learning was impaired when these dominant cues were irrelevant to reward, but not when these cues were predictive of reward. This interpretation is supported by a more indepth analysis of the spatial-predictive task which revealed group differences in learning rate. The cocaine-exposed animals did not take longer than controls to move from chance performance to greater than chance performance; they were impaired only later in the task, when the distraction produced by the previously predictive olfactory cues made it more difficult for them to achieve the high performance level needed to reach criterion (Fig. 2). Note that the intact performance on the olfactory-predictive (spatial irrelevant) set-shifting task excludes various alternative explanations for the impaired performance on the spatial-predictive (olfactory irrelevant) task, such as impairments in attentional set shifting, motivation, associative ability, inhibitory control, and cognitive flexibility. In fact, in these same studies, the cocaine-exposed animals performed normally on several tasks tapping basic associative ability and memory function (55,56,59). Thus, the cognitive profile seen in individuals exposed to cocaine in utero exemplifies Pennington’s postulate that executive functions subserved by PFC may be uniquely vulnerable to early insults, and illustrates that, in some cases, many traditional tests of learning and memory may miss functionally important cognitive deficits. To assess the functional integrity of frontal cortex, we suggest including tests of attentional function rather than working memory, despite the evidence that both are subserved by the prefrontal cortex. This recommendation is based on evidence that

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Figure 2 Mean (C/KSEM) number of trials per block in an EDS task in which spatial cues were predictive and olfactory cues were irrelevant to reward. See text for details. -p!0.006. Source: Adapted from Ref. 56.

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commonly used memory tasks, such as delayed spatial alternation, may be less sensitive to subtle prefrontal cortical damage than other tests of prefrontal function, such as tests of attention and measures of species-typical behaviors. This inference is based on studies concerning early developmental lesions of the prefrontal cortex, as well as studies of in utero cocaine exposure which, as noted above, reveal a pattern indicative of prefrontal dysfunction, consistent with emerging neuroanatomical studies (60). When damage to the prefrontal cortex occurs during specific periods of early development, neural plasticity allows for some recovery of function, as demonstrated by the evidence that lesioning the prefrontal cortex during postnatal days 6–10 does not yield deficits in delayed spatial alternation tasks (DSAs) that show profound working memory deficits following similar lesions in adulthood (61–63). However, recovery of function following prefrontal cortical lesions at this time is not complete; such lesions result in permanent impairment on some tests of prefrontal function, such as those assessing the organization of species-typical behaviors (61,64,65). It appears that due to the partial recovery of function, only tests that are sensitive to subtle prefrontal dysfunction reveal impairment. This explanation is consistent with the pattern of effects described for prenatal cocaine exposure, if one posits that the attentional deficits are due to subtle prefrontal dysfunction. As described above, adult rats exposed to cocaine in utero exhibit lasting impairment in selective attention (56,57) and sustained or focused attention (54,55). In contrast, delayed spatial alternation performance did not reveal working memory dysfunction in these same animals (59). However, based on the evidence for subtle prefrontal cortical dysfunction following early lesions of this structure, it is very possible that working memory tasks that are more “executive” in nature, such as those requiring multiple operations to be performed in working memory, would also reveal dysfunction following early prefrontal cortical damage, produced by either surgical ablation or in utero cocaine exposure. Transfer of Learning (Cumulative Learning). Although low IQ scores can be produced by deficits in many different functional domains, one frequently cited hallmark of MR is an impaired ability to transfer learning from one situation to another (66,67) yet this process is rarely tested in animal models of early developmental toxicant exposure. In fact, it is most common to test experimentally naı¨ve animals on a single learning task. Because this testing situation does not assess the ability to benefit from prior relevant learning experiences, a process that is commonly impaired in MR syndromes (above citations), it is likely to result in an underestimate of the cognitive impairment produced by conditions that would manifest as MR in humans. This prediction proved to be true in rat models of both classic (68) and maternal (69) PKU, conditions known to produce MR in humans. In these studies, the animals were given a series of related olfactory discrimination tasks designed to permit positive transfer of learning between tasks. The study with classic PKU used a three-problem learning set task; the later study with maternal PKU used a nine-problem series of related tasks, comprised of three different types of tasks, with three exemplars of each. Learning transfer was defined as significantly faster learning of a given task by animals having mastered the earlier tasks in the series, relative to experimentally naı¨ve animals given only that one task. In both MR models, the PKU group benefited significantly less than controls from experience with similar discrimination problems, with the consequence that their impairment relative to controls increased across successive problems (Fig. 3). It should be emphasized that none of the tasks that comprised the sequence, when given as the only task to experimentally naı¨ve animals, revealed impairment in the PKU group, in either study. In contrast, each of these tasks revealed significant impairment in the PKU group when administered within the task series, after the animals had mastered similar tasks.

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Figure 3 Mean (C/KSEM) number of trials required to reach criterion for a learning set task administered to rats exposed to neonatal hyperphenylalaninemia (HP) (a model of classic PKU) and controls. The three 2-choice olfactory discrimination tasks were administered sequentially. Although the HP group did not differ from controls in the rate at which they learned the initial discrimination, they did not improve across the three tasks, contrary to controls. As a result, the HP group was significantly impaired relative to controls on both the second and third discriminations. -pZ0.03, --pZ0.02. Source: Adapted from Ref. 68.

Thus, a task series designed to allow for positive transfer of learning between tasks revealed impairments in these MR models that would have been missed if any of these tests had been administered singly. These findings support the importance of including assessments of learning transfer in studies of disorders known or hypothesized to cause MR or developmental delays, including early toxicant exposure. Regulation of Affect or Emotions. One aspect of brain function that has been conspicuously neglected in most studies of early toxicant exposure is emotion or affect. This omission is likely to have resulted in a significant underestimate of the functional effects of the toxicant under study; for example, impaired emotion regulation is integral to various types of psychopathology, including anxiety disorders, depression, conduct disorder, and delinquent behavior (70,71), which can be an important cause of impaired cognitive functioning and school performance (72–74). The suggestion that chemical exposure might cause social and behavioral problems in addition to cognitive deficits is not new. Over 60 years ago, in their landmark study on early childhood lead poisoning, Byers and Lord (75) raised the possibility that the poor school progress in children with a history of lead exposure might be related not only to their reduced cognitive abilities, but also to problems in regulating aggression. Several decades later, Weiss (76) suggested that exposure to environmental chemicals might contribute to social and behavioral pathologies, and recently Bellinger (77) argued that the assessment of emotional and affective functioning is an important and severely neglected area of inquiry in the field of neurotoxicology. Fortunately, the situation seems to be improving in recent years, with a growing number of studies of early toxicant exposure including measures of psychopathology. For example, several recent studies have reported links between indices of early lead exposure and the incidence of anti-social and delinquent behaviors in adolescence (77,78,80). Although these correlations are provocative, their interpretation is

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complicated by the frequent confounding of early toxicant exposure and disadvantaged social circumstances (e.g., poverty, low intellectual stimulation in the home, exposure to violence, maternal depression, etc.), factors which themselves place children at risk for delinquent and antisocial behavior (81,82). This is a common problem in toxicology research, as environmental health risks are borne disproportionately by members of the population who are poor (83). For this reason, animal models can be pivotal in gauging causality, assuming, however, that one has confidence that the selected behavioral measures are relevant for human psychopathology. Admittedly, such extrapolations are less straightforward than for indices of cognitive functioning such as learning rate or memory function. Assessing emotions relevant to human psychopathology. One approach is to assess the animals’ behavior in situations that induce emotions thought to be relevant to human psychopathology, such as anxiety, fear, or aggression. In light of the evidence that impaired regulation of these emotions is a risk factor for various types of psychopathology (70), the assessment of the animals’ reaction to these emotive situations seems an appropriate tack for modeling psychopathology risk in the animal. Moreover, there is evidence for cross-species correspondence in the neural systems that underlie these emotions (84-88). For some tests of emotions in animals, convincing evidence for the validity of cross-species extrapolations have been demonstrated. Such is the case for the elevated plus maze as a test of anxiety. In this task, a rat or mouse is placed on an elevated 4-arm maze in which two of the arms are covered, and two are open (i.e., exposed). Rodents prefer dark or enclosed spaces, consistent with evolutionary selection pressures to avoid predation. On the other hand, they have a propensity to explore novel environments, creating an approach-avoidance conflict with respect to exploring the open arms of the maze. The proportion of time that the animal spends in the open arms as well as the number of entries into the open arms, provide indices of anxiety (89,90). Anxiogenic and anxiolytic drugs alter these dependent measures in the predicted directions (91,92), supporting the validity of this tool as an index of anxiety. Another approach used to assess emotion or affect in animals examines behavioral responses to stressors such as electric shock, forced swimming, physical restraint, or the behavioral response to novelty (93). Lasting changes on such measures have been reported following early exposure to toxicants, such as lead (94–102) or cocaine (103–108). However, the way in which such findings can be used to predict effects in exposed children is less clear than for the plus maze; validation studies are lacking. Similarly, although altered behavior of animals in tests of social interactions is commonly cited as evidence for an increased risk of psychopathologies in which social behavior is impaired (e.g., autism), such inferences await validation. This is also the case for animal tests purported to provide indices of “depression,” such as the Porsolt swim test (109,110) and the learned helplessness model (111,112). Assessing reactivity to errors during testing. Another approach is to study the regulation of emotions within the context of cognitive testing; specifically, assessing the animals’ reaction to committing an error. This approach has the advantage that it may shed light on the basis of observed performance deficits, while simultaneously providing an assessment of emotion regulation. Although this approach to assessing emotion regulation also awaits validation in terms of extrapolation to humans, the underlying assumptions and interpretive leaps appear to be less than with some other measures in this area, as discussed above. We have studied the sequelae of committing an error in a wide variety of tasks, designed to tap a range of functions, including sustained attention, selective attention, attentional set-shifting, stimulus-reward learning,

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and stimulus-response learning. These analyses were conducted on performance data collected after task rules had been mastered by the animals, such that errors were likely due to impulsivity or inattention, rather than due to learning dysfunction or uncertainty about task contingencies. It is very clear from these data that the outcome of the previous trial (i.e., correct or incorrect) is a powerful determinant of performance. Various performance measures demonstrate that both mice and rats (1) notice when they have committed an error (i.e., exhibit error-monitoring behavior); and (2) perform more poorly on trials that follow an error. For example, in attention tasks in which the location and onset time of a brief visual cue varied unpredictably between trials, several dependent measures varied significantly as a function of the outcome of the previous trial; specifically, on trials that followed an error (relative to trials following a correct response), the animals took longer to enter the testing alcove at trial onset, took longer to make a response, and were more likely to commit all types of errors: premature responses (responding before cue onset), inaccurate responses (responding after cue onset but to an incorrect port), and omission errors (missing the cue) (54,55,59,113). The nature of this effect might not have been predicted. A priori one might have hypothesized that an error on one trial might lead to a very low error rate on the next trial because the subject would slow down and respond less impulsively. This pattern, increased response latency and decreased error rate on post-error trials, has been reported in some human studies (114,115), and is thought to reflect an executive, errorcorrection system, localized to the anterior cingulate cortex (116,117). However, the pattern we observed in our rodent studies-increased response latency and increased error rate on post-error trials-has also been reported in some human studies (118), and likely reflects an emotional response to the error. This interpretation is supported by the finding that an electrophysiological marker of error detection, termed the error-related negativity (ERN), varies as a function of individual differences in negative affect and emotionality (119). Whether one observes increased or decreased accuracy on post-error trials in human subjects appears to depend on subtle differences in task parameters, such as the duration of the stimulus-response interval (RSI), whether or not a correction technique was employed, or both (114). In our rodent studies, the reaction to committing an error also appears to entail cognitive and effective components, based on data from an olfactory conditional discrimination task (120). In this task, only one of the two olfactory cues was presented on a given trial. One cue signified that a right nose-poke response would be rewarded, whereas the other olfactory cue signified that a nose-poke to the left port would be rewarded (i.e., conditional stimulus-response associations). An interesting statistical interaction was observed between the outcome of the previous trial and “stimulus repetition,” the latter term connoting whether the error trial and the post-error trial involved the same olfactory cue or a different cue (Fig. 4). Specifically, the disruptive effect of an error was significantly greater if the cue presented on error and post-error trials was the same, relative to the situation where the two trials involved different olfactory cues. The most likely explanation for this pattern of findings is that when the same cue was presented again on the post-error trial, the greater increase in response latency and error rate occurred because the animal was distracted by continued processing of the events of the previous trial. In contrast, when the alternate cue was presented on post-error trials, the “slate was wiped clean,” with the result that both response latency and accuracy were less affected. This observed interaction of stimulus repetition and previous trial outcome implies processing at the cognition-affect interface, and indeed reflects a level of cognitive processing that some may find surprising for the rat. A purely emotional response would

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Figure 4 Mean (C/KSEM) percent correct (accuracy) in a 2-choice olfactory conditional association task in which the odor presented on each trial signified whether a left or right response would be rewarded. Accuracy is presented as a function of (1) the outcome of the prior trial and (2) whether the same or alternate stimulus was presented on the current trial. Accuracy was significantly lower on trials following an error than on trials following a correct response. Moreover, this post-error reduction in accuracy was more pronounced when the same stimulus was presented as on the error trial, relative to when the alternate stimulus was presented. See text for additional details. -p!0.0005. Source: From Ref. 123.

likely have produced a main effect of previous trial outcome but not an interaction with the stimulus characteristics. In our animal studies, we have attempted to tap the cognition-affect interface by examining each performance measure (e.g., rate of various types of errors, response latency, latency at trial onset) as a function of prior trial outcome (correct or incorrect). This approach has illuminated the basis of group differences in performance in numerous studies and has proven to be a uniquely sensitive tool for detecting the lasting effects of various early insults. Measures of the degree of disruption produced by an error have revealed lasting effects of all insults that we have examined in this regard, including lead (113), cocaine (54,55,59), alcohol (121), and Down syndrome (122). One possible reason for the apparent sensitivity of these measures is that error monitoring and error reactivity—and emotion regulation in general—are thought to depend on a neural system that includes frontal cortex (70,71), consistent with Pennington’s theory discussed above. The insight provided by this type of analysis is illustrated by some recent findings from a study designed to test the efficacy of succimer (Chemete) chelation in ameliorating the lasting cognitive and affective changes produced by early lead exposure. Adult rats exposed to lead early in life exhibited a much greater disruption in performance following an error than controls, in both the olfactory conditional discrimination task described above (123), and in a sustained attention task (124,125). The approach of examining performance on each trial as a function of prior trial outcome revealed not only a functionally important effect of early lead exposure, but also an area of lead-induced dysfunction that was completely normalized by chelation with succimer (Fig. 5).

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Figure 5 Mean percent correct (C/KSEM) during the final block of trials in each daily session (trials 135–200) for a two-choice olfactory conditional associative task with surprising reward omission (SRO). For both the lead-exposed and control groups, performance was significantly lower on trials that followed an error than on trials that followed either a correct response or an SRO. However, this drop in performance following an error was significantly more pronounced for the lead-exposed animals than for controls (--p!0.01), indicating impaired emotion regulation. Importantly, chelation therapy with succimer normalized this area of impairment of the lead-exposed animals (Pb-veh vs. Pb-succ; -p!0.05). Source: From Ref. 123.

As discussed below, some areas of lead-induced dysfunction did not improve following chelation therapy. Elucidating the Nature of the Dysfunction Limits to Defining the “Behavioral Phenotype” in Toxicology Research The selection and design of neurobehavioral tasks is guided not only by concerns relating to sensitivity (i.e., detecting dysfunction), but also by the goal of gaining insight into the functional integrity of specific cognitive and/or affective processes. Before discussing the benefits of designing tasks in such a way that they provide this information, it is important to acknowledge the limits that exist to defining a behavioral phenotype produced by exposure to a particular neurotoxicant, the rationale often advanced for using this type of test battery. As Bellinger (77) concluded in his discussion of this issue, merely knowing that an individual has been exposed to a particular neurotoxicant at some point in his/her life “.provides little information that is useful in predicting the specific forms in which toxicity will be expressed.” This situation reflects the fact that many factors modify the nature of the neurotoxic effects that are produced, including aspects of the exposure (i.e., dose, timing, chronicity) and various sociodemographic characteristics of the population being studied (e.g., social class, sex). For example, it is well-known that early developmental exposure to a given toxicant or teratogen can produce qualitatively different behavioral and neural effects, depending on the particular developmental events that are taking place at the time of exposure (126,127). This point can be illustrated by the profiles of spared and impaired cognitive functions produced by exposure to lead during different periods of early development (113). Consequently, one may be limited to defining the impaired and

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spared functions for a given exposed individual (which may be useful clinically, as discussed below) or, for a given population of exposed individuals, identifying cognitive functions that, at a probabilistic level, are more likely to be affected than others.

Benefits of Using Tests which Provide Indices of Specific Functions Nonetheless, the use of tests that provide information about the integrity of specific functions can still offer significant benefits. First, as noted above, in cases where the dysfunction produced by the toxicant is selective, tests designed to specifically tap the affected function(s) are likely to produce a more sensitive index of the dysfunction than global or apical measures. Second, politicians are more likely to take notice of behavioral evidence indicative of a known behavioral/cognitive syndrome (i.e., impaired attention and impulse control, suggesting ADHD) than impaired performance on tests that, even if sensitive, do not provide insight into specific functions. Examples of tests in this latter category are the Rey-Osterrieth Complex Figure for children (128) and, in the case of animal testing, operant reinforcement schedules (129). In addition, unlike apical or global measures, the use of tasks (and dependent measures) that provide insight into the integrity of specific functions can be useful clinically to guide the choice of interventions. For example, if the task battery reveals that attention is impaired but that basic associative processes and memory are intact, then methylphenidate (Ritalin) would likely be an effective treatment; this would not be the case with the reciprocal pattern of spared and impaired functions. Delineating the spared and impaired functions can also shed light on the nature of the underlying brain damage. However, one caveat should be noted in this regard: this approach infers neural damage by cross-referencing information about specific functions that are altered by the toxicant of interest with knowledge concerning the neural systems that subserve those functions. However, for studies of toxicant exposure during early development, it is a concern that most of this knowledge is based on the effects of focal lesions sustained in adulthood; the effects of such lesions are often different from those produced by early developmental lesions of the same structure. For example, damage to the medial temporal lobe in adulthood leads to a rather pure amnesic syndrome in which explicit memory function is the only observed impairment (14,32,33), whereas the comparable lesion induced during early development produces autistic-like behavior in addition to impaired explicit memory function (130–132). Additional studies of lesions sustained during early development would significantly aid in this endeavor. A final benefit of selecting tasks that provide indices of specific functions pertains to studies concerning the efficacy of putative therapeutic interventions, such as administering chelating agents following heavy metal exposure. Some cognitive or affective dysfunctions produced by the toxicant may be ameliorated to a greater extent than others by the treatment, due to various factors, including, for example, the developmental stage of different neural systems at the time that the exposure occurred as well as the time that the intervention was implemented. Neural systems that have completed their development during the time of the toxicant exposure (and before the therapy were implemented) are unlikely to derive as much benefit as those that are still developing during the time that the treatment is given. A recent study of succimer chelation of lead-exposed rats illustrates this scenario (124,125,133). In such situations, erroneous conclusions would likely be reached unless a broad range of functions are independently assessed.

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Tests Purporting to Assess Specific Functions Often Do Not Although tasks are frequently marketed or described as providing a rather specific index of some cognitive function, this is often not the case, as exemplified by the DSA task commonly cited as a measure of working memory function in both animals and humans. In this task, the subject is rewarded for alternating responses between two spatial locations on successive trials. For example, if the subject responded to the left location on trial n, then the right location is correct on trial nC1. Thus, the subject must remember the location of his/her previous response in order to respond correctly on the next trial. The delay between trials can be manipulated to vary the demand on memory function. However, poor performance in this task can result not only from memory dysfunction but also from deficits in any of the other processes also required for optimal performance in the task, including spatial perception, attention, behavioral modulation (i.e., impulsivity), susceptibility to proactive interference, inhibitory control (selecting the location that was rewarded on the previous trial), and motivation. Therefore, if the delay between consecutive trials is constant for the entire session, which is common, particularly in human studies (e.g., when administered within the CANTAB program), observed dysfunction is not very informative, as it could be due to alterations in any or all of these processes. Much greater insight can be gained about the nature of the dysfunction if the duration of the intertrial interval (ITI) is varied randomly across trials in the session. If the groups do not differ on trials with a 0 second ITI (i.e., no delay between consecutive responses), and the magnitude of the impairment increases with increasing ITI, then memory impairment would be implicated. However, if the performance of the two groups differs even on trials with no delay, then the deficit would not likely be due to memory specifically. Moreover, in this latter scenario, if the slopes across the varying delays are

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Figure 6 Mean performance (percent correct C/KSEM) in a delayed spatial alternation task as a function of the intertrial delay. The inferior performance of the lead-exposed animals (p!0.01), which did not vary by delay, was most likely due to an impaired ability to regulate the frustration produced by having to wait for unpredictable and often long delays between trials, after having been trained on a task with all 0 second intertrial delays. This inference is based on (1) the unimpaired performance of the Pb-exposed rats in this training task, and (2) the results of an in-depth analysis of performance in the DSA task, which excluded several alternative explanations. Source: Adapted from Ref. 134.

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comparable for the two groups (parallel), one can exclude memory impairment as the basis of group differences despite the poor performance of the experimental group. This pattern is illustrated by the effects of post-weaning low-level lead exposure in the rat (Fig. 6) (134). Varying Task Parameters Systematically varying task parameters, such as described here for the DSA task is often an effective means of gaining insight into the integrity of specific functions because information is then provided concerning the particular conditions under which the subjects succeed and fail. This approach can often effectively exclude alternative explanations for poor performance, and thereby specify the nature of the impairment. For example, in visual attention tasks in which subjects must wait for and then respond to a brief visual cue, unpredictable in terms of both location and onset time, it is very informative to systematically vary several parameters of visual cue presentation, and then randomly present the different “levels” of each variable across trials; examples include varying (1) the delay between trial onset and presentation of the visual cue (which varies the demands placed on both inhibitory control and sustained attention); (2) the duration of cue illumination (which alters the difficulty of detecting the cue; hence, varying the demand on focused or sustained attention); and (3) whether or not a distractor is presented on a given trial (varying demands on selective attention). The effects of prenatal cocaine exposure in this task are illustrative. The exposed animals were impaired (relative to controls) on trials where the visual cue was presented very briefly (200 ms) but not on trials with longer cues (400 or 700 ms) (Fig. 7) (55). The unimpaired performance on trials with the longer cues allows one to exclude numerous potential interpretations (e.g., decreased motivation, impaired learning or memory of task rules, impaired motor function), rendering attentional dysfunction as the most likely basis of the observed impairment. 92

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Figure 7 Percentage (C/KSEM) accuracy for a sustained attention task in which the presentation of a brief visual cue varied in location, onset time, and duration. A significant Treatment ! Duration interaction was observed (p!0.02). The rats exposed to cocaine in utero exhibited significantly reduced accuracy, relative to controls, specifically on trials with the briefest cue (pZ0.01). Source: Adapted from Ref. 55.

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In these attention tasks, it is also informative to examine group differences as a function of “time on task,” e.g., early, middle, or end of session. Deficient sustained attention would manifest as impairment that increases across the testing session (54), whereas dysfunction that is specific to the beginning of the session would indicate difficulty in “settling in” to the task, possibly due to impaired regulation of the arousal produced by the recent handling, weighing, placement in the testing chamber, etc. Clues regarding the nature of the dysfunction is often provided by categorizing the types of errors committed (e.g., premature response, omission error, inaccurate response), and then evaluating each error type as a function of these various parameters (delay before cue onset, cue duration, trial block [portion of session]), as well as the outcome of the previous trial, as discussed above. For example, in this visual attention task, we found that adult male rats exposed to cocaine in utero committed more omission errors than controls only on trials in the final third of the testing session that occurred after an error (Fig. 8, the 3.0 mg/kg dose). These animals were not impaired in this final portion of the session on trials that followed a correct response, or earlier in the session regardless of prior trial outcome. This pattern implicates the additive effects of impairments in two areas: sustained attention and emotion regulation. Demarcating Phases of the Learning Process The interpretation of task results involving learning rate data may seem more straightforward; however, here, too, various types of dysfunction may underlie slower learning of the experimental group. For example, slower learning in serial reversal learning tasks could be due to an alteration in one or more of the following processes (in addition to impaired motivation or sensory acuity): (1) cognitive flexibility/ability to inhibit responses to previously rewarded stimuli, (2) attentional function (selectively attending to the predictive cues), (3) associative ability (associating the correct cue with reward), and (4) transfer of learning across tasks, or rule induction. One way to gain insight

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Figure 8 Percentage omission errors in the final block of trials in each daily testing session (trials 135–200) in a sustained attention task, as a function of the outcome of the previous trial (correct or incorrect), for male rats exposed to cocaine prenatally and controls. The interaction of treatment group and prior trial outcome was significant [F(3,363)Z10.12, p!.0001]. The highest dose males committed significantly more omission errors than controls on trials following an error (pZ.002) but not on trials that followed a correct response (pZ.3). Source: Adapted from Ref. 54.

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into the specific cognitive functions that are altered as well as the neuroanatomical locus of the dysfunction is to analyze the length of discrete phases of the learning process (36,135,136). Mastery of reversal learning tasks can be demarcated into several phases: (1) a period of persistent responding to the previously correct cue immediately after the contingencies have been changed, called the perseverative phase; (2) a period during which performance is at chance levels, due to either random selection of the two stimuli or repeated responding to the same spatial location; and (3) a final phase during which performance is significantly greater than chance levels, characterized by increasingly accurate selection of the correct cue. A lengthened perseverative phase coupled with a normal post-persaverative phase would be indicative of deficient inhibitory control or inflexibility, as seen with damage to dorsolateral prefrontal cortex (137). A lengthened post-perseverative phase, coupled with a normal period of perseverative responding, would suggest associative dysfunction, as seen with damage to a circuit involving amygdala and OFC (138,139). Previous research involving a rodent model of early childhood lead exposure illustrates how this type of phase analysis can shed light on the integrity of specific cognitive functions. Chronic exposure to lead from conception produced both a doserelated shortening of the perseverative phase (a shortened period of responding to the previously correct cue), and a dose-related lengthening of the post-perseverative phase (Fig. 9) (136). These data illustrate that, although it is commonly assumed that slower reversal learning is due to inflexibility or deficient inhibitory control, this is not always the case. The slower learning of the lead-exposed animals was caused by impaired associative ability, not inflexibility; in fact, the exposed animals exhibited less perseverative responding to the previously correct cue than controls, despite their slower learning. In addition, these findings exemplify the greater sensitivity that can be provided by this type of learning phase analysis. Although the higher of the two exposure groups learned significantly more slowly than controls (in terms of trials to criterion), learning rate of the lower exposure group did not differ from that of controls despite the fact that they differed 400 350

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Figure 9 Mean number of trials (C/KSEM) for each of the three phases of learning in a series of 2-choice olfactory reversal learning tasks. The perseverative phase, the period during which the rats persistently selected the previously correct cue, was significantly shorter for both lead-exposed groups relative to controls (p’sZ.05, and .06, respectively, for the 75 and 300 ppm groups). In contrast, the post-perseverative phase (comprising the chance and final learning phases) was significantly protracted for both lead-exposed groups relative to controls (pZ.08, and .002, respectively). Source: Adapted from Ref. 136.

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significantly from controls in the durations of both the perseverative and postperseverative phases. Interestingly, these two effects cancelled each other out in terms of overall learning rate, with the result that impairment in this group was uncovered only in these analyses of the specific learning phases.

SOME CAUTIONARY NOTES Caveat About Automated Operant Tasks Automated operant tasks, such as those described in many of the cited examples, offer numerous benefits but also some limitations. One benefit is that they facilitate the systematic manipulation of task parameters, and thereby aid in defining the nature of the dysfunction. In addition, the fact that one collects hundreds of trials per animal on each task permits the delineation of different stages of learning, as well as increases the reliability of the results. The automated nature of the tasks also reduces experimenter effects and facilitates replication of findings. Additionally, the technology is ideal for assessing various aspects of attention (e.g., sustained attention, selective attention). However, this type of testing situation is not optimal for assessing all aspects of cognitive functioning, notably including hippocampal function. Automated operant tasks are generally learned quite incrementally and consequently do not depend on the hippocampus (30); i.e., they fall into the category of implicit, rather than explicit, learning. Tests likely to be sensitive to hippocampal dysfunction are those where the basic concept can be learned quickly (30), those that tap memory of discrete objects or events, such as the delayed-non-match-to-sample test, or maze tasks that tap spatial mapping strategies (140,141). Despite the fact that most of these automated operant tasks are mastered incrementally, like habits, they can be modified, after the basic task rules have been learned, to assess more complex, higher-order processing, including various aspects of attention. In addition, if multiple versions of the same task are presented successively, as in olfactory learning set tasks, the later tasks are learned very rapidly by both rats (69) and mice (142), thereby likely falling into the realm of explicit (i.e., hippocampal-dependent) learning and memory (30).

Using “Identical” Tasks for Different Species or Different Age Groups There is growing interest in developing tests for animals that are identical or “homologous” to those used with human subjects (143). It is hoped that this approach will facilitate translating the findings of the animal studies to the human condition being modeled. The reciprocal strategy is also being employed, namely, to develop tasks for humans that are identical or very similar to ones used in animal studies (144–146). Because animal studies have often provided information on the neural bases of specific patterns of dysfunction in these tasks (137,138), it is hoped that the use of these tasks in children will aid in identifying not only the areas of functional impairment but also the locus of the underlying neural damage. However, it is important to bear in mind that a given task (even if identical) may not be solved in the same way by animals and humans, or by children of different ages. Therefore, one cannot assume that merely because a toxicant-exposed animal performs normally on a given task that the same will hold true for children exposed to the same toxin, or vice versa. This point can be illustrated by considering the effects of medial temporal lobe damage on pattern discrimination learning. As discussed above, non-human primates with damage to the medial temporal lobe do not

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differ from controls in their rate of learning 2-choice pattern discriminations, whereas humans with similar brain damage are significantly impaired in this type of task (30). This difference reflects the fact that the monkeys learn this task incrementally, like a skill or habit (implicit learning), whereas humans learn this type of task very rapidly, moving almost instantaneously from chance-level responding to perfect performance. Because the task is solved differently by monkeys and humans, the neural systems on which the task depends differs between the two species. Similarly, because nearly all tasks depend on multiple cognitive processes, one cannot assume that poor performance on a given task by toxicant-exposed animals and humans necessarily reflects the same underlying dysfunction, at either a cognitive or neural level. To illustrate this point, consider the DNMTS performance of adult monkeys with medial temporal lobe damage, human toddlers, and infant monkeys. Each of these groups does poorly on the DNMTS task, but for different reasons. Adult monkeys with lesions of the medial temporal lobe do poorly on this task because of impaired explicit memory function, as indicated by the pattern of performance across the varying retention intervals: they do well on trials with short retention intervals (10–15 sec) and perform progressively worse as the retention interval increases (147). In contrast, human toddlers and infant monkeys fail even at the shortest retention interval (5 sec) (148,149). Their failure is almost certainly not due to poor memory because (1) toddlers of the same age can remember a variety of things for 5 sec, and (2) when they get older and finally succeed at the short delay, they also succeed at the longer delays (e.g., 30 sec). The impaired performance of the human toddlers and infant monkeys likely reflects immaturity of inhibitory control processes. This inference is based on the facts that (1) correct performance requires inhibition of the choice that was just rewarded (during the sample phase); and (2) the evidence, from several types of tasks, that the ability to inhibit prepotent responses is deficient in toddlers and infant monkeys (150–152). As this ability improves with age, the subjects do well at all the delays. For these reasons, before one can extrapolate the results of a given task across species or age groups, one must verify that the task is solved in the same way by these different groups of subjects. This is true both for predicting whether or not dysfunction will be observed in the other group of subjects, as well as for predicting the nature of the functional or neural damage. This latter caveat pertains to using animal data concerning the neural bases of dysfunction in the task to identify possible loci of neural damage in the target human population. Clues concerning whether different groups of subjects solve a given task in the same way may be provided by considering the specific trial conditions under which subjects succeed and fail, as well as by examining information, if available, on the effects that damage to particular brain regions has on task performance in these different groups of subjects (36). Interpreting the Results of Studies Evaluating Environmental Enrichment and Neurotoxicant Exposure Recently, there has been great interest in studies reporting that environmental enrichment (EE) can ameliorate the cognitive and neural damage produced by early exposure to neurotoxicants, such as lead (153,154). In these studies, EE, consisting of group housing in a large cage with toys, was found to reduce the performance difference between leadexposed rats and controls on a learning task, relative to that seen when the two groups were raised in impoverished conditions (i.e., social isolation and no environmental stimulation). This pattern has been reported for many types of brain damage, including surgical lesions of prefrontal cortex, sensorimotor cortex, reticular thalamus, or hippocampus, as well as

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early exposure to drugs such as alcohol, MAM, alpha2 agonists, or beta blockers (155,156). Such findings have given rise to the hope that the dysfunction produced by exposure to neurotoxicants may be significantly ameliorated or even “reversed” by EE (154,157). Unfortunately, such hopes may rest on faulty logic. Several issues must be considered when drawing inferences from this type of EE study. One issue is whether the selected task (and task parameters) allowed for the detection of an enrichment effect in the controls (i.e., enrichment vs. isolation reared groups) that was at least as large at that seen in the brain-damaged animals. Many articles focus primarily on the extent to which the brain-damaged group benefited from the enrichment. This is important, but it is also crucial to consider whether the enrichment created group differences that were larger, smaller, or equivalent to that seen following rearing in the isolated conditions. In many EE studies, a floor or ceiling effect precluded the detection of an equivalent benefit of the EE for the controls. In such experiments, where the control group derives little benefit from the enrichment, the finding of amelioration of the deficits in the brain-damaged group (i.e., smaller group differences) should be viewed as an experimental artifact that would not apply to the real world. In fact, in studies where the task parameters permitted the detection of a sizeable enrichment effect in the controls, the impairment of the brain-damaged group (relative to controls) has often been larger in the enriched condition than the isolated condition (158–160), suggesting that the controls benefited from the enrichment more than the brain-damaged animals (Fig. 10). This type of finding is consistent with the prediction that the control animals would be superior to the brain-damaged animals in transferring knowledge and experiences from the enrichment situation to the subsequent learning tasks (35). In this latter scenario, enrichment improves the performance of the brain-damaged animals— which may be important clinically—but because it actually makes group differences larger, it seems inappropriate to call this curative. Parenthetically, whether enrichment enlarges or reduces group differences may depend not only on measurement issues 25

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(as discussed above), but also on the nature of the benefit afforded by the enriched environment. If the derived benefit was cognitive in nature (i.e., transferring specific information from the EE to the task), the controls are likely to benefit to a greater extent than the brain-damaged animals, for the reasons noted above. In contrast, if the enrichment improved performance because it reduced emotionality (relative to the isolated condition), then the brain-damaged animals might benefit more than controls, particularly if the neural damage impaired arousal regulation (35). A second critical issue—even in cases where enrichment decreases group differences and ceiling effects do not seem to have artificially produced this type of interaction—is whether these results should be interpreted as evidence that EE was therapeutic or, alternatively, that the isolated condition exacerbated the dysfunction. Which interpretation one uses is not just a semantic issue; it has important implications for how this type of finding is translated into public policy. Pertinent evidence is provided by the few studies that have examined various brain parameters (e.g., cortical thickness) as a function of three levels of environmental stimulation: (1) the impoverished condition, consisting of either isolation (single housing and no enrichment) or standard laboratory housing (housing with one or two other animals, but no EE); (2) the standard enrichment condition, i.e., group housing in a large cage with changing toys; and (3) super-enriched lab conditions or wild-caught animals. In these studies, significant differences were seen between the enriched and impoverished conditions, but not between the standard enrichment condition and wild-caught animals (161–164). It follows that many of the behavioral and neural differences observed in the typical EE study may reflect the adverse effects of impoverished conditions rather than the beneficial effects of enrichment. By analogy, the same may be true for the studies showing an amelioration of some early insult by EE, namely, that the observed interaction between environment and early brain damage may reflect an exacerbation of the early insult by impoverished conditions, rather than an amelioration of the brain damage by enrichment. Which of these interpretations is correct for any given endpoint can be determined only by conducting this type of three-level enrichment study, involving impoverished, enriched, and super-enriched conditions. Some differences observed between animals reared in enriched and impoverished conditions, such as increased survival of newborn neuronal cells (165–167), provide a plausible mechanism by which EE could truly facilitate recovery of function following brain damage. However, unless it can be demonstrated that “super-enrichment” reduces group differences relative to an “enriched” condition, EE studies should not be cited as support for the notion that the effects of the early insult in children can be reversed by enrichment programs, as has been done; such programs would increase the child’s level of stimulation between levels of enrichment, not from impoverished to enriched conditions (when considered in terms of the animal studies).

SUMMARY In this chapter, we discussed the selection and design of cognitive tests for use in developmental neurotoxicology studies, raising issues that we believe are important for both animal and human studies. Two overarching considerations were discussed: (1) sensitivity (being able to detect dysfunction if it exists), and (2) specificity (being able to say something about the nature of the dysfunction). Creating a sensitive assessment battery begins with the acknowledgement that because different cognitive and affective functions can be independently altered, it is not possible to select some “representative” learning/memory task and assume that if “cognition” is altered, dysfunction will be detected

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in this one task. Rather, it is necessary to assess a wide range of functions which, in turn, reflect the functional integrity of many distinct neural systems. A second implication of the biological distinctiveness of different cognitive and affective functions is that tests cannot be ranked in terms of sensitivity; the test that will be most sensitive in any given case depends on the nature of the brain damage. In practice, animal studies in this area have tended to rely on maze tests or other tests of associative learning and/or memory function; certain functional areas are rarely assessed. We identified four neglected areas of functioning that may be especially important to include in future studies, as they are commonly affected by early insults: (1) executive functions (including various components of attention); (2) transfer of learning across tasks; (3) emotion regulation (particularly within the context of cognitive testing, such as reactivity to committing an error); and (4) intrinsically-motivated learning (including latent learning and incidental learning). Assessing the ability to transfer learning from one situation to another, a hallmark dysfunction in human MR syndromes, seems particularly important for studies of early insults, including developmental toxicant exposure. In addition, there is evidence that functions subserved by frontal cortex, including attention and emotion regulation, may be uniquely sensitive to early developmental insult, and therefore particularly important to assess following early toxicant exposure. The failure to assess these functions in many prior studies is likely to have resulted in a significant underestimate of the functional consequences of the toxicant being studied. General statements about the behavioral phenotype or “signature” of a given toxicant are precluded by evidence that characteristics of the exposure (e.g., dose, duration) and the target population (e.g., age, SES) can alter the types of effects that are produced. Nonetheless, there are numerous benefits of designing cognitive tests in such a way that they provide indices of specific cognitive and affective functions. One approach for attaining this objective, illustrated with the test DSA task and automated visual attention tests, is to systematically vary task parameters (e.g., the retention interval, the delay prior to cue presentation, cue duration) so that one can characterize the specific conditions under which the exposed subjects differ from controls. For tasks in which learning rate is the primary dependent measure, insight into the nature of group differences can be gained by demarcating the learning process into distinct phases, and then comparing the rate at which the groups master each phase. The effects of early lead exposure on serial reversal learning illustrate the benefits gained by this approach. The final section of the chapter touched briefly on some “cautionary notes” concerning the use of animal models in this area. The first pertained to the use of automated operant testing methods. Although beneficial for many reasons, this technology may not be optimal for assessing all areas of functioning, notably including explicit memory, subserved by the medial temporal lobe. Nonetheless, it is possible to devise automated operant tasks that are sensitive to hippocampal dysfunction; some examples are given. A second cautionary note pertained to the use of identical tasks in different species or different age groups. Because a given task may be solved in different ways by these different groups of subjects, one cannot assume that the task results can be generalized. However, such extrapolations may be valid, if it can be demonstrated that the task is solved in the same way by the different groups of subjects, and that it depends on the same neural system(s). The final cautionary note pertained to the interpretation of studies designed to test the ability of EE to ameliorate the effects of early brain damage, including that produced by toxicant exposure. Although some studies have reported that EE reduces the magnitude of the behavioral or neural dysfunction, relative to that seen following rearing in impoverished environments, these studies do not allow the inference that

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enrichment programs for similarly-exposed children will reverse the functional or neural damage. This conclusion is based on the facts that: (1) in many such animal studies, ceiling effects precluded the detection of a sizeable enrichment effect in the controls; and (2) many of the differences seen between enriched and isolated animals appear to reflect the adverse effects of isolation, not the beneficial effects of enrichment. Accordingly, it is possible that the EE studies involving early brain damage reflect an exacerbation of the early insult by isolated rearing, not a therapeutic effect of enrichment.

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153. Schneider JS, Lee MH, Anderson DW, Zuck L, Lidsky TI. Enriched environment during development is protective against lead-induced neurotoxicity. Brain Res 2001; 896:48–55. 154. Guilarte TR, Toscano CD, McGlothan JL, Weaver SA. Environmental enrichment reverses cognitive and molecular deficits induced by developmental lead exposure. Ann Neurol 2003; 53:50–56. 155. Walsh RN, Greenough WT. Environments as Therapy for Brain Dysfunction. New York: Plenum, 1975. 156. Will B, Galani R, Kelche C, Rosenzweig M. Recovery from brain injury in animals: relative efficacy in environmental enrichment, physical exercise or formal training (1990–2002). Prog Neurobiol 2004; 72:167–182. 157. Koller K, Brown T, Spurgeon A, Levy L. Recent developments in low-level lead exposure and intellectual impairment in children. Environ Health Perspect 2004; 112:987–994. 158. Sjoden PO, Lindqvist M. Behavioral effects of neonatal thyroid hormones and differential postweaning rearing in rats. Dev Psychobiol 1978; 11:371–383. 159. Mohammed AK, Jonsson G, Archer T. Selective lesioning of forebrain noradrenaline neurons at birth abolishes the improved maze learning performance induced by rearing in complex environment. Brain Res 1986; 398:6–10. 160. O’Shea L, Saari M, Pappas BA, Ings R, Strange K. Neonatal 6-hydroxydopamine attenuates the neural and behavioral effects of enriched rearing in the rat. Eur J Pharmacol 1983; 92:43–47. 161. Rosenzweig MR, Bennett EL. How plastic is the nervous system? In: Almi, Finger S, eds. Comprehensive Handbook of Behavioral Medicine. Spectrum Publications, 1980:149–185. 162. Rosenzweig MR, Bennett EL, Alberti M, Morimoto H, Renner MJ. Effects of differential environments and hibernation on ground squirrel brain measures. Soc Neurosci Abstr 1982; 8:669. 163. Rosenzweig MR, Bennett EL, Renner MJ, Alberti M. Laboratory enrichment and the natural baseline: effects of differential environments on brain measures in two species of ground squirrels. Unpublished manuscript, 1987. 164. Renner MJ, Rosenzweig MR. Enriched and Impoverished Environments: Effects on Brain and Behavior. New York: Springer-Verlag, 1987. 165. Kempermann G, Gage FH. Experience dependent regulation of adult hippocampal neurogenesis: effects of long-term stimulation and stimulus withdrawal. Hippocampus 1999; 9:321–332. 166. Kempermann G, Brandon EP, Gage FH. Environmental stimulation of 129/SvJ mice causes increased cell proliferation and neurogenesis in the adult dentate gyrus. Curr Biol 1998; 8:939–942. 167. Nilsson M, Perfilieva E, Johansson U, Orwar O, Eriksson PS. Enriched environment increases neurogenesis in the adult rat dentate gyrus and improves spatial memory. J Neurobiol 1999; 39:569–578.

21 The Developmental Neurotoxicology of Chemicals Disrupting Thyroid Hormone Signaling R. Thomas Zoeller Biology Department, University of Massachusetts-Amherst, Amherst, Massachusetts, U.S.A.

Thyroid hormone (TH) is essential for normal brain development (1–4). Exposure to severe TH insufficiency during fetal and/or neonatal development in humans leads to a condition known as cretinism, characterized in part by severe mental retardation (5). Likewise, exposure to severe TH insufficiency during fetal and/or neonatal development in experimental animals leads to severe behavioral impairment indicative of neurodevelopmental deficits (6). Considering these observations, it is reasonable to predict that any environmental chemical affecting TH action during brain development may produce adverse effects on cognitive development (7). However, there are several reasons that testing this prediction is not currently a simple matter. Therefore, the goal of this chapter is to provide an analysis of the challenges to investigators engaged in basic research focused on providing information to be used in risk assessment. The point of departure for this chapter is the recommendation by the U.S. EPA Endocrine Disruptor Screening and Testing Advisory Committee (EDSTAC) for assays to be used to screen for thyroid toxicants.

THE EDSTAC FINAL RECOMMENDATION FOR SCREENING ANTI-THYROID ACTIVITIES The authors of the EDSTAC final report accurately stated that, at the time, “all known antithyroid compounds so far reported in vertebrates affect circulating levels of thyroxine (T4).” A large number of thyroid toxicants have been identified (8), and in all cases, these chemicals have been identified by their ability to reduce circulating levels of T4. Moreover, the term “environmental goitrogenesis” (9) was developed to describe chemicals and mechanisms that lead to reduced circulating levels of TH, producing a 447

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compensatory over-stimulation of the thyroid gland and goiter formation. Considering this, the recommendation by the EDSTAC for identifying thyroid toxicants was to measure circulating levels of T4 and TSH. Recognizing that changes in circulating levels of hormones should not be considered adverse per se, they recommended that thyroid histopathology be used as an endpoint that reflects the physiological consequences of altered thyroid function. Little has changed during the past 5 years with regard to thyroid toxicology. Measurements of serum THs and thyroid histopathology remain the end points for identifying thyroid toxicants and for gaining insight into risk assessment (10). However, the authors of the EDSTAC final report also wisely cautioned that, “Despite the volume of literature reviewed, the rapid pace of research into TH action makes it predictable that the present screens will become obsolete, both because more effective assays will likely be developed and because new information about TH action may reveal mechanisms of thyroid disruption not identified by the recommended T1S battery.” Part of this prediction has been realized—new information about the mechanisms of thyroid disruption have been identified. However, more effective screens have not been developed. Thus, identification and risk characterization of thyroid toxicants is compromised by the lack of valid neurodevelopmental endpoints of thyroid toxicity that may be employed in newly designed screens for thyroid toxicants. Strawson et al. (10) recently reviewed the logic and evidence employed to characterize risk to human health following exposure to the environmental contaminant perchlorate, which is known to block iodide uptake into the thyroid gland potentially reducing circulating levels of TH (11). As they describe, an important weakness in the experimental data is that the relationship between perchlorate exposure, circulating levels of TH, and neurodevelopment is not characterized. Thus, two critical issues in thyroid toxicology are: (1) To what degree must circulating levels of TH be reduced before adverse effects on brain development are observed? This question is as relevant to humans as it is for experimental animals. (2) What are the most sensitive endpoints of brain development that would clearly reflect adverse effects of thyroid toxicants? These questions are discussed below in sequence. (1) To what degree must circulating levels of TH must be reduced before adverse effects on brain development are observed? A key decision for any risk assessment of thyroid toxicants is to distinguish adaptive from adverse effects on the physiology of humans or of experiment animals. This question is derived from the observation that the hypothalamic–pituitary–thyroid (HPT) axis has two predominant mechanisms that can potentially compensate for fluctuating levels of TH. These mechanisms include the negative feedback action of TH on the hypothalamus and pituitary, and the responses of tissue deiodinases to changing circulating levels of TH. These mechanisms are believed to allow “compensation” to occur; that is, reductions in circulating TH are compensated for by adaptive mechanisms within the HPT axis and within tissues such that adverse consequences are prevented. This concept requires that these compensatory mechanisms are more sensitive to reduced circulating TH levels than any other tissues so that it “senses” changes in TH levels and “adapts” to protect tissues including the developing brain. Currently, this hypothesis is whimsical, for there are no experimental data to support it and, in fact, recent reports do not support it. These adaptive mechanisms are described below.

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THE HPT NEGATIVE FEEDBACK SYSTEM The HPT axis is a classic neuroendocrine axis; the hypothalamus controls the pituitary gland, which in turn controls the thyroid, and feedback mechanisms between thyroid secretions and the hypothalamus and pituitary maintain the activity of this axis within narrow limits (12). Hormones secreted from the thyroid gland, thyroxine (T4) and triiodothyronine (T3), are synthesized by coupling two iodinated tyrosyl residues that make up the larger hormone precursor, thyroglobulin (Tg). Tg, a large glycoprotein of nearly 3000 amino acids (13), is stored in the fluid filling the central core of the thyroid follicle (the colloid), and at the time of hormone release, iodinated Tg is taken up into the cell from the colloid and digested by lysosomal enzymes, liberating T3 and T4 into the blood (14). Tg is also secreted into the serum by transcytosis (15), with measurable and changing levels in serum (16), and may even have direct hormonal actions (17). Perhaps more importantly, serum Tg is a measure of thyroid function in humans (16). The pituitary glycoprotein hormone, thyrotropin (TSH) (18), regulates the synthesis and secretion of THs by activating adeylate cyclase in thyroid follicular cells (19). Although T4 is the predominant form of TH in the serum, T3 is the active hormone at the receptor. TH exerts a negative feedback effect on pituitary secretion of TSH (20,21), and on the hypothalamic secretion of the releasing factor, thyrotropinreleasing hormone (TRH) (20,22,23). The negative feedback effect of TH is mediated by the beta receptor subtype of the TH receptor (TRb). The TRb subtype is predominant in the hypothalamic paraventricular nucleus (23) and in the pituitary (24,25). Thus, the compensatory response to fluctuations in circulating TH mediated by this negative feedback mechanism is dependent upon the TRb isoform. This is especially clear in people with thyroid resistance syndrome caused by a defect in the TRb ligand binding domain (26), resulting in elevated T4 and elevated TSH. The causal relationship between the TRb defect and thyroid resistance was confirmed in animals by targeted insertion of the human TRb mutation into a mouse line (27). In addition to the negative feedback mechanisms, small changes in circulating levels of TH affect the expression of the deiodinases (28), enzymes that convert T4 to the hormonally active T3 (type I, D1; or type II, D2), or T4 (or T3) to the hormonally inactive reverse T3 or T2 (type III, D3) (29). Changes in deiodinase expression and activity may represent an important tissue-autonomous mechanism controlling the sensitivity of target tissues to TH fluctuations (30), including the developing brain (31). Taken together, these two mechanisms—negative feedback and tissue deiodinases—may interact to protect tissues from small fluctuations in serum TH. Thus, when a thyroid toxicant causes a reduction in circulating levels of TH, the question is, to what extent must circulating TH decline before adverse effects are produced? This question can only be answered by empirical measures of TH action, and the answer to the question will likely depend on the endpoint and upon the developmental timing of the TH insufficiency. (2) What are the endpoints of brain development that would provide valid insight into the adverse effects of thyroid toxicants? Identifying specific endpoints of TH action in the developing brain requires both a consideration of the molecular and cellular mechanisms of TH action as well as the developmental events influenced by TH. Therefore, a brief review of these topics is provided for background. MECHANISM OF THYROID HORMONE ACTION Most, but perhaps not all, of the important effects of TH on brain development are mediated by their receptors (TRs) (32–35). TRs are members of the steroid/thyroid

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superfamily of ligand-dependent transcription factors (36,37). They are encoded by two genes, designated a and b c-erbA (38,39), which generate at least four functional TRs: TRa1, TRb1, TRb2, and TRb3 (34,35,40). The TRa gene has 10 exons; TRa1 is composed of exons 1–9, whereas TRa2 is generated by the addition of a long c-terminal domain (exon 10) that disrupts the ligand-binding domain of the TR [see review by Flamant and Samarut (41)]. Thus, TRa2 isoform does not bind to TH and is generally not considered to be a bona fide TR. There is an internal promoter that drives the transcription of two additional short forms of the TRa gene (42). These short forms, designated TRDa1 and TRDa2, are encoded by exons 8–9 and 8–10, respectively. These proteins are able to bind to TH (T4 and reverse T3), but do not bind DNA. However, they may mediate important intracellular and non-genomic actions of THs and may be an important target of thyroid toxicants. In contrast, there are three promoters that drive the expression of the three functional TRs from the TRb gene (TRb1, TRb2 and TRb3) (43). In addition, the TRb3 transcript is differentially spliced to produce a TRDb3 isoform; again, this small product of the TRb gene binds to TH, but not to DNA. TH exerts effects on different aspects of brain development via different TRs. The a and b TRs exhibit distinct temporal and spatial patterns of expression in the developing rat CNS (44). For example in the neocortex, neuroblasts migrating from the germinal ventricular zone to the cortical plate on gestational day 13 express intense TRa1 mRNA, which continues through day 19. During this time, TRb1 mRNA is confined to the site of neuroblast proliferation—the ventricular layer. Therefore, it appears that neuroblasts switch TRs as they leave their birth site to migrate to their final destination. Similarly in the hippocampus, elevated TRa1 expression is coincident with the outward migration of postmitotic neurons from the hippocampal ventricular germinal zone, whereas TRb1 expression is weak. Leonard et al. (45) have suggested that TRa2 is expressed exclusively in glial cells, while TRa1 and TRb1 are expressed more predominantly in neurons. Thus, TH may influence different developmental processes by different receptor-mediated events, all well before the fetal HPT system begins to function on GD 17–20 (46). This implies that different levels and combinations of TR isoform expression may account in part for the pleiotropic effects of TH (37,47). Recent studies demonstrate empirically that TH actions on brain development are mediated separately by different TR isoforms. TRb knockout mice (TRb-/-) have resistance to TH (48–50), meaning that they have elevated levels of both T4 and TSH. In contrast, mice with deletion of the TRa1 and TRa2 isoforms (TR0/0) are hypersensitive to TH in several of the tissues examined (51) or less prone to the effects of TH deprivation (52). Moreover, mice completely deficient in both TRa and TRb (TR null) exhibit more severe resistance to TH than those lacking TRb only (53). Taken together, these data suggest that both isoforms play selective and overlapping roles in controlling serum TSH, but that the TRb form plays the dominant role. It is important also to recognize that TR knock out mice do not exhibit alterations in brain structure that resemble hypothyroid animals (35). Not only do TR knock-out mice not show affects of brain damage associated with hypothyroidism, but targeted deletion of specific TR isoforms can protect the brain from hypothyroidism in these strains (52). These observations led to the hypothesis that the unliganded TR mediates the adverse consequences of TH insufficiency on brain development (and on the function of other tissues). That is, it is not the absence of TH itself that causes the damage, but rather the presence of the unliganded TR. To test this hypothesis, Hashimoto et al. (54) constructed a mouse carrying a TRb gene with a targeted mutation in the ligand binding domain (TRbD337). This mutated TRb is unable to bind to TH, but remains capable of binding to DNA and to the co-repressor N-CoR. These investigators found that the TRbD337 mouse

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exhibits the same severe defects in brain development as observed in wild type animals made hypothyroid. Therefore, the unliganded TR exerts the adverse effect on brain development in the absence of TH under normal conditions. The Bernal group in Madrid has begun to use these mouse lines to identify the TR isoforms that mediate effects of TH on brain development (55–57). Cerebellar granule cells are largely affected by TH acting on the TRa1 isoform. This includes their migration from the external germinal layer (EGL) across the mitral layer to populate the internal granule layer (IGL). However, it is not clear whether this also includes their proliferation in the EGL as well as apoptosis in the IGL, two important elements of granule cell development under the influence of TH (58,59). In contrast, Purkinje cells are affected by TH acting predominantly on the TRb isoform. Thus, it is likely that specific TH actions in the developing brain can ultimately be attributed to mediation by the TRa or TRb subtypes. These types of studies would map the developmental time and place of TH action during brain development and would characterize the TR subtype mediating the effect. In turn, this will be valuable information because thyroid toxicants such as bisphenol A, which binds directly to the TR (60,61), may conceivably exert TR subtypespecific effects on TH signaling. If so, the pattern of effects on brain development will be a mosaic of effects in the brain that would not be recognized as mediated by interfering with TH signaling.

THYROID HORMONE EXERTS TIME- AND DOSE-DEPENDENT EFFECTS ON BRAIN DEVELOPMENT We have known for a very long time that the thyroid gland is important for brain development. Paracelsus is credited with publishing the first proposal that endemic goiter is causally linked to cretinism in 1527 (62), although it is likely that this relationship was widely known before his report (63). We now know that endemic goiter is indicative of hypothyroidism; thus, the relationship between endemic cretinism and hypothyroidism described in modern times forms an important basis for the conclusion that TH is essential for brain development (5,64). Modern studies of the relationship between TH and brain development in humans reveals an important fundamental conclusion: that the effect and severity of the mental defect caused by TH insufficiency is determined by the developmental timing and severity of TH insufficiency (65). This conclusion is critical for the field of thyroid toxicology because it requires that investigations incorporate this principle; that is, the effect and severity of thyroid toxicants on brain development will be dependent upon the timing and dose of toxicant exposure. The clinical literature provides the strongest support for this principle. The original concept of the “critical period” of TH action on brain development was proposed to identify the postnatal period during which TH supplement must be provided to a child with congenital hypothyroidism (CH) to prevent mental retardation (66). However, as neuropsychological tools have become more sensitive, it has become apparent that even mild TH insufficiency in humans can produce measurable deficits in very specific neuropsychological functions (67–73), and that the specific consequences of TH deficiency depends on the precise developmental timing of the deficiency (65). Clinical studies of children born to women with low TH during pregnancy and studies of children with CH provide these insights. If the TH deficiency occurs early in pregnancy, the offspring display problems in visual attention, visual processing (viz., acuity and strabismus), and gross motor skills. If it occurs later in pregnancy, children are at additional risk of subnormal visual (viz., contrast sensitivity), and visuospatial skills as

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well as slower response speeds and fine motor deficits. Finally, if TH insufficiency occurs after birth, language and memory skills are most predominantly affected (74–76). Although the experimental literature lags behind clinical studies in providing a mechanistic explanation for each of these observations, recent studies confirm that the specific action of TH on brain development depends upon developmental timing, and studies informing us about molecular mechanisms of TH action are generating hypotheses concerning possible mechanisms to account for these pleiotropic actions. For example, the progeny of hypothyroid dams (rats) show significant deficits in maze learning, are less cautious in emotionality testing, and are more active in open-field exploration (77), whereas animals rendered hypothyroid postnatally exhibit learning deficits and hypoactivity (78–80). There are a very large number of papers describing experiments designed to identify effects of TH on anatomical measures of brain development. Perinatal hypothyroidism alters the packing density and size of neuronal perikarya within specific brain areas, as well as fiber density and orientation within adult cortical layers (81–83). Quantitative and qualitative abnormalities have been seen in projections of the corpus callosum (CC) from both pre-and postnatal hypothyroidism (84–86). The number of axons in CC was reduced by 76%, especially in the posterior sector compared to the remainder (95% vs. 63%) (86–89). A few recent studies have begun to address more clearly the consequences of mild TH insufficiency in the rat dam on fetal brain development. For example, Lavado-Autric et al. (90) took advantage of the fact that cortical neurons occupying different lamina are born at different times during development. Using timed exposure to bromodeoxyuridine (BrdU), which is incorporated by dividing cells into their newly-synthesized DNA and marking them for life, the authors were able to show that a significant proportion of BrdUC cells in the cortex of pups derived from TH insufficient dams did not migrate far enough. In a followup study, Auso et al. found that even 3 days of treatment of pregnant rats with the goitrogen methimazole (MMI) was enough to cause a delay in cortical neuronal migration in the fetal brain, despite the fact that the subsequent TH insufficiency was not robust enough to cause serum TSH to become elevated in the dams (91). Thus, in this case, the HPT axis of the dam did not compensate for the TH insufficiency in the fetus. These studies, especially in humans, indicate that TH exerts actions in the developing brain that depend on the development time under consideration. This view is perhaps best articulated by Howdeshell (92). The implication for neurotoxicology is that the endpoint of thyroid toxicity must be designed to capture these effects occurring at different developmental times. These issues are developed more fully using the example of polychlorinated biphenyls.

POLYCHLORINATED BIPHENYLS (PCBS) PCBs are industrial chemicals consisting of paired phenyl rings with various degrees of chlorination (93). Although the production of PCBs was banned in the mid-1970s and body burden of PCBs are declining, these contaminants are routinely detected in the environment at significant concentrations (94,95). Epidemiological studies have indicated that children developmentally exposed to PCBs suffer from neuropsychological deficits such as a lower full-scale IQ, reduced visual recognition memory, attention deficits, and motor deficits (96–101) that overlap with those affected by maternal TH insufficiency (67,68,102). Therefore, several investigators have speculated that PCBs may impact brain development by interfering with TH signaling (103–105). PCBs, or specific PCB congeners, in maternal and cord blood are sometimes found to be associated with lower

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TH levels in both the mother and infant (106,107). Although several epidemiological studies have failed to identify an association between TH and PCB body burden (73,108–111), experimental studies consistently find that PCB exposure decreases circulating levels of thyroxine (T4) in rats (112–114). Therefore, it is possible that PCB body burden is negatively associated with serum TH levels in humans, but that the variability inherent in human populations makes this association difficult to reveal. Developmental exposure to PCBs in experimental animals induces a hearing loss (115–118), a reduction in choline acetyltransferase in the cerebral cortex (119), an increase in testicular growth (120), and effects on ovarian follicular maturation (121), all consistent to some degree with effects produced by low circulating TH. Moreover, T4 replacement can at least partially ameliorate these effects (119,122), indicating that PCBs can influence development in part by causing a reduction in serum TH. However, hypothyroidism induced by exposure to the goitrogen propylthiouracil (PTU) causes a significant increase in serum TSH levels (123), reduced body and brain weight and brain size of rat pups (124), and a delay in eye opening and tooth eruption (125). In contrast, PCB exposure at doses that significantly reduce serum TH do not always produce these effects (116,126–128). Therefore, there is a significant discrepancy between the ability of PCBs to reduce circulating levels of TH and their ability to produce symptoms of hypothyroidism. Some authors have proposed that this discrepancy may be attributable to PCBs acting as imperfect agonists/antagonists on TH receptors (TRs) (129). If so, then PCBs should affect endpoints of TH action in the developing brain in a manner that is not predicted by effects on serum TH. To test this hypothesis, we evaluated the effect the PCB exposure on the expression of a variety of TH-responsive genes in the developing fetus (130) and neonatal rat (128). Interestingly, we found that PCB exposure, using the commercial mixture Aroclor 1254, produces a TH-like effect on the expression of a variety of genes in vivo, including RC3/Neurogranin and Oct-1 in the fetal cortex, and RC3/Neurogranin and Myelin Basic Protein (MBP) in the postnatal brain. In addition, we have found that PCB exposure increases the expression of Malic Enzyme [a well characterized TH-responsive gene in the liver (131)] in the maternal liver. Thus, despite causing a reduction in circulating TH levels, PCBs cause an increase in the expression of genes normally up-regulated by TH. These findings are consistent with a direct action of PCBs on the TR. However, only one report had addressed this proposal directly (132), finding that two hydroxylated PCB congeners (4 0 -OH-PCB 14 and 4 0 -OH-PCB106) exhibit a relatively low affinity for human TRb1 (KiZ32mM). We tested this hypothesis using a very large battery of parent PCB congeners and their metabolites (130), finding that none of these chemicals significantly displaced T3 from either the TRa1 or TRb1, or affecting their affinity for T3. Moreover, we have narrowed the TH-like effects of Aroclor 1254 to a combination of 6 congeners in vivo: PCBs 77, 126, 108, 118, 153, and 132. We do not currently propose that these effects are mediated by dioxin-like congeners (CB 77 and 126) because if we increase the proportion of these congeners in the mixture of 6, the TH-like effect is blocked. This single example illustrates several important points relevant to the issue of deciding whether effects of antithyroid agents are adverse or adaptive. First, without formal endpoints of TH action, not only can one not decide whether the effects of a toxicant on circulating levels of TH are adaptive, but it is also not possible to identify whether the effect of toxicant on circulating levels of TH mediate effects on TH signaling in the developing brain. Considering that endpoints of TH signaling in the developing brain are not routinely incorporated into studies of thyroid toxicants, it is not possible to

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make evidence-based conclusions about whether the effects of toxicants on serum TH levels are adaptive or adverse (10). Second, this example illustrates that total serum T4 is not a good estimate of TH action in tissues. PCBs appear to selectively reduce circulating levels of T4 both by displacing T4 from the serum binding protein transthyretin (133,134) and by inducing the T4-directed UDP-glucuronocyltransferse (135) in liver. Many PCB studies report that serum TSH levels are not elevated despite low T4 (116,136). Some speculate that this is due to normal serum T3 in PCB-treated animals. However, serum T4 appears to be the important determinant of serum TSH considering that D2-knockout mice exhibit elevated levels of both serum T4 and TSH (137), indicating that intra-pituitary conversion of T4 to T3 is an essential step in the negative feedback action of T4 on the pituitary gland. Thus, it may be that serum displacement of T4 from TTR increases or maintains levels of serum free T4 such that serum TSH remains normal. This possibility remains poorly understood because important serum measures of thyroid function are not routinely assayed, including free hormone (T4 and T3), serum thyrotropin (TSH), estimates of serum binding proteins, and serum Tg. This issue may be particularly important if there exist serum measures of thyroid function (hormone and binding protein level) that provide a more reliable predictor of TH action in tissues. Recent studies indicate that a number of environmental chemicals can directly affect the TR at low concentrations, including PCBs. Iwasaki et al. (138) found that very low concentrations (10K10M) of a hydroxylated PCB congener could suppress T3induced gene expression, using an in vitro expression system. Moreover, this group found that it appears to do so by causing the TR (TRb1) to dissociate from DNA (139). Thus, it may be that PCBs cause a “TH-like” effect on the expression of specific genes in our experiments because it prevents the unliganded TR from suppressing gene expression without cause activation per se. Another important observation are those reported concerning bisphenol A (BPA) (60,61). Parent BPA binds to the TRb1 with relatively low affinity and acts as an antagonist in vitro (60), and we have found that BPA exposure causes serum T4 levels to increase, consistent with an antagonistic effect on the pituitary TRb (unpublished data). Yamada-Okabe et al. (140) reported that 2,3,7,8 tetrachloro-p-dioxin can enhance the T3-mediated gene expression in vitro. This report also characterized the positive and negative effects of PCB exposure on T3regulated gene expression.

CONCLUSION TH is essential for normal brain development, and recent studies demonstrate that TH insufficiency produces adverse consequences on the developing brain depending on the timing and severity of the insufficiency. Despite this importance, toxicological endpoints of TH action in the developing brain have not been validated. Thus, we do not even know the degree to which TH levels must decline before brain development is compromised. Moreover, considering the data indicating that TH effects are exerted on various developmental events by specific TR isoforms, the development of end points of TH action in the developing brain must take this into consideration. Recent studies indicate that various toxicants may exert direct—even novel—actions on the TR and this may be site-specific. It is essential that we correct these weaknesses so that toxicological research can credibly evaluate risk to human (and wildlife) populations to thyroid disrupters.

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SECTION FIVE: DEVELOPMENTAL NEUROTOXICITY: CLINICAL PRACTICE, RISK ASSESSMENT ETHICS

22 Public Health Perspectives on Developmental Neurotoxicology Jennifer S. Mammen Environmental Health Sciences, Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine, Baltimore, Maryland, U.S.A.

Lynn R. Goldman Environmental Health Sciences, Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health, Baltimore, Maryland, U.S.A.

PUBLIC HEALTH BURDEN OF DEVELOPMENTAL DISABILITIES/ LEARNING DISABILITIES IN CHILDREN Developmental disabilities are among the most important child health problems in the US. The U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) has estimated that 17% of children have a developmental disability and 2% have a “severe” disability requiring special education. According to the American Psychiatric Association, 3–7% of children have attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) with higher rates reported in some communities. According to the CDC, as many as 6 in 1000 children have some form of autism spectrum disorder. The identification of preventable causes of such developmental and learning disabilities is crucial to their prevention. For example, lower levels of folate have been linked to neural tube defects and rates of this birth defect have sharply declined since the introduction of folic acid supplements into the U.S. diet. Broadly speaking, there are diverse influences on neurologic development, including genetics, lifestyle, infections in utero and in early childhood, and head trauma. Known causes of developmental defects include genetic (e.g., Trisomy 21), lifestyle (fetal alcohol, smoking), environmental (hyperthermia, UV radiation, X-rays, certain chemicals) and nutritional (deficiencies or excesses) factors (2). In most cases, we do not have information for parents about why their children have disabilities. Increasingly it is appreciated that while there is strong evidence for a genetic component to most developmental environmental influences that trigger these genetic traits. For malformations, although 15– 25% are estimated to be purely genetic in origin, and 10% to broad environmental factors (mostly maternal conditions and infectious agents), the vast majority, 65–75%, are of unknown origin and are thought to be due to complex interactions among multiple genes, multiple teratogens, gene and environmental factors, or spontaneous mutations (1). 463

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Others have concluded that “3% of all developmental defects are attributable to exposure to toxic chemicals and physical agents, including environmental factors, and 25% of developmental defects may be due to a combination of genetic and environmental factors” (2). Thus, environmental exposures to chemicals and other substances must be considered within the broader context of all agents and factors that may be affecting neurodevelopment. A further consideration for policy makers is the extent to which risk factors may be controllable or amenable to change. For example, a number of persistent pollutants—lead, polychlorinated biphenyls and dioxins, and methyl mercury—have been linked with developmental neurotoxicity in children. While we do not know the role of these, and other environmental exposures, in developmental disabilities, the environmental persistence changes available policy tools and shifts the focus form clean up to prevention of contamination in order to prevent disease. There are numerous policy efforts that have been undertaken to address such concerns over the last ten years. These efforts have involved: assessment of risk of potential developmental neurotoxic agents; expanding funding for tracking developmental disabilities and researching their etiologies; and controlling persistent pollutants, many of which are developmental neurotoxicants. This paper reviews our progress in these three areas over the last ten years, and looks at how this information can be applied to policy decisions in order to optimise our children’s development.

ASSESSMENT OF RISK OF POTENTIAL DEVELOPMENTAL NEUROTOXIC AGENTS Environmental health policy responds to two questions: which of the xenobiotics currently in the environment pose sizable and immediate health risks; and which of the many new compounds being synthesized and added to waste stream every year will pose health threats in the future? That is to say, policy makers are charged with establishing priorities for current problems and screening for future ones. Establishing priorities among ongoing environmental health threats requires being able to perform some kind of assessment of the potential for harm. at a minimum to estimate the relative threat of each problem. The framework that is used in the United States for such assessment is risk assessment. Formally, this is done in four steps: hazard identification, dose response assessment, exposure assessment, and risk characterization (3). Hazard identification, traditionally, the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) has relied on population data on rates of intake (e.g., drinking!gallons of water a week) together with environmental sampling (e.g., water containing y ppm of a contaminant of concern) to estimate exposures. These assessments make a number of broad assumptions that may not apply to all populations. Children often have greater rates of exposure to contaminants in food, water, air, and household and play environments. Because of differences in metabolism, may be more or less exposed to hazardous substances. To the extent that the industrial chemicals or pesticides being reviewed are current environmental contaminants, improved epidemiology that provides direct measures of both exposure and outcome and the dose-response relationships in children vastly improves the quality of the risk assessment being performed, and is therefore of high value to public health policy makers. Hazard identification and dose-response assessments involve the determination of health outcomes that may be associated with particular exposures. Most risk assessments rely on hazard data from animal studies, occasionally on the effects seen in occupational settings, where adults are exposed to higher levels of toxicant, and much less frequently on epidemiological data from studies of children. The validity of data from animal

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experimentation and adult studies for determining the health effects of chronic low-level exposures to human children is a very contentious issue in the regulatory community of activists and industry. Not only may the hazards differ for children but also children may have different dose response curves, that is, they may be more or less susceptible. Developmental neurotoxicity is an area that, by definition, involves increased susceptibility of children compared with adults, and may also imply an increased vulnerability of humans compared to animals given the more complex functions performed by the human brain. Epidemiologic studies of children may be more direct but also present challenges for determining how to measure exposure at low levels and assess developmental endpoints appropriately, as discussed below. Being able to interpret the implications of available data for public health is a major challenge for non-scientist policy makers. The risk characterization, in which all the foregoing information is summarized by the agency to evaluate the overall impacts, needs to take into account the uncertainties in the data that result from extrapolations such as those between animals and humans. Under the Food Quality Protection Act (FQPA) (the pesticide safety law), the EPA must employ a tenfold safety factor to assure that increased susceptibility and exposure to children has been accounted for in the risk analysis. A “different” factor may be employed by the EPA if so warranted by the data (4). Various groups have complained that this process is either an under- or over-estimate of risk (which is claimed is the result largely of a priori policy goals) with no greater likelihood of being accurate about the risk than the original correction factor itself. There are no such specific provisions in the law under which industrial chemicals are regulated, the Toxic Substances Control Act (TSCA). Rather, under that provision, the EPA is required to show that a chemical poses an “unreasonable risk” in order to regulate it (which has been interpreted to mean balancing with the costs to industry). How to bridge the gap between the common sense idea of “unreasonable risk” and the reality of imperfect scientific understanding is a major public policy challenge. Hazard Identification and Dose Response Assessment To identify potential hazards requires a basis of scientific information. The criteria proposed by Brent for identification of causes of congenital malformation (1) are equally applicable to putative developmental neurotoxicants and include: controlled epidemiology studies that consistently show a relationship between particular effects and exposure to humans; secular trend data that show a relationship between changing levels of exposure to an agent and the specific effect over time; animal developmental toxicity studies (which can indicate whether there is a general hazard to the development of the fetus but may not give valid information about the specific adverse effect); and evidence for a dose-response and biological plausibility, meaning information on issues such as mechanisms of action, receptor interactions that shed light on the association (1). According to Rodier, there are a number of modes of action of agents that may be associated with maldevelopment of the central nervous system, including agents that interfere with neuronal cell proliferation early in pregnancy; agents that interfere with appropriate migration of neurons; agents that may modify neuronal connections, transmitter levels and receptor numbers; agents that may alter myelin deposition; and agents that may affect postnatal development (5). Brent (1) also identified a number of “teratogenic principles” which also are useful for identification of potential teratogens. These include: (1) teratogens exhibit a dose response and a threshold below which effects do not occur; (2) the embryonic stage of exposure is critical to whether the teratogenic effect will be produced; (3) there is specificity between the teratogen and the effect to be produced; and (4) presence of malformations other than those

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produced by a specific teratogen suggests a different mechanism. Dose response assessment relies on the same sort of information. Particularly useful (but often lacking) is information regarding toxicity in animals at doses in the same range as those for humans (1). Laboratory Models In 1993, the National Research Council published its report Pesticides in the Diets of Infants and Children. It concluded that the EPA was doing an inadequate job in assessing the risks of pesticides to children and, among many recommendations, called for developmental neurotoxicity testing of pesticides. Although the report was on pesticides, the same was true for other substances—industrial chemicals, pharmaceutical agents, food additives, consumer products and workplace exposures. While policy makers historically had been focused on prevention of cancer as a target, they had not addressed developmental toxicity in most of the efforts to assure safety. Ideally, the preventive goal of public health would require the detection of neurotoxic compounds before there is widespread environmental exposure of populations on which to do epidemiology. This means that developmental outcomes in children need to be correlated to laboratory models that can be used to test potential toxins. Current animal models of neurodevelopmental toxicity include various rodent paradigms for learning and memory—such as the ability to do mazes—and behavioral assessments. Primates are sometimes also used in such research. One obvious problem is that some human cognitive domains, for example abstract reasoning, do not have clear equivalents in the rat or mouse. It is a plausible hypothesis that if a rat has trouble remembering where a platform is located in a pool after lead exposure then a child will also have difficulty with learning, but it is less certain that any compound that impacts human intellectual ability will have similarly observable effects in rodent or other toxicological models. This latter inference needs to be present for a screening tool to be of value in public health. Since 1993, efforts have been under way to refine and apply a standard developmental neurotoxicity test battery for pesticides. What progress has been made in this area since 1993? The EPA in 1991 issued its first test guideline for the assessment of developmental neurotoxicity; however, it was triggered by other test findings and was not employed very frequently (6). More than ten years of effort had gone into its development. Then, in 1996, Congress passed the FQPA, which required that children’s risks be assessed for pesticides. In 1998, the EPA’s developmental neurotoxicity guideline was reissued as OPPTS 870.6300. The guideline requirements have been summarized by EPA scientists as follows: “In this study, pregnant rats are administered the chemical by an oral route beginning on gestation day 6 and continuing through postnatal day 10. The offspring are therefore exposed to the chemical, via the maternal circulation and/or milk, during in utero and early postnatal development. Examination of the dams in this study includes minimal clinical and functional observations and weekly body weight measurements. Endpoints evaluated in the offspring between birth and approximately day 60 of age include measures of physical development (including growth and survival, and the age of sexual maturation), functional observations, motor activity, auditory startle reflex function, and learning and memory. At postnatal day 11 and at study termination, the offspring are subjected to extensive neuropathological examination including simple morphometric analysis (consisting at a minimum of a reliable estimate of the thickness of major layers at representative locations within the neocortex, hippocampus, and cerebellum) (6).”

In 1999, the EPA issued a data call-in for 38 organophosphate pesticides. According to EPA scientists, this order “included a request for specific modifications to the

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guideline study, in order to address a number of issues and concerns that were identified, including increasing the duration of dosing to postnatal day 21, increasing the number of animals examined for neuropathology (from 6/sex/dose to 10/sex/dose), demonstrating the adequacy of postnatal dosing for substances that are not present to any significant extent in the milk of the dams (including an assessment for the need for direct exposure of pups to the test substance), and conducting a comparative evaluation of cholinesterase inhibition (or other biomarkers) and behavior in adults and young organisms” (6). We have yet to see the full results of that effort. EPA scientists have published a report detailing quality problems with 34 developmental neurotoxicity tests submitted by 16 laboratories between 1991 and 2002. There were major quality control problems, most notably a lack of positive control data for all endpoints for the majority of test laboratories and the fact that, among those submitting positive control data, the “positive control” was ineffective 13% of the time, indicating either a problem with the control or with the assay. The EPA reviewers identified multiple deficiencies in data and analyses indicating a lack of proficiency among most of the laboratories (7). No data call-ins for developmental neurotoxicity have been issued for most other pesticide classes or other pesticide ingredients. For other substances there has been little progress in testing for developmental neurotoxicity at the EPA. The EPA, the chemical industry, and Environmental Defense are producing much new information about chemicals under the voluntary High Production Volume (HPV) Chemical Testing Program. The program, modeled after the SIDS (Screening Inventory Data Set) that was agreed to by Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD) nations in the 1980s, does not include a specific assessment of developmental neurotoxicity and neither the EPA nor the OECD have proposed criteria that would trigger such evaluation, post screening. The EPA and the American Chemistry Council are also carrying out a voluntary test program called the Voluntary Children’s Chemical Evaluation Program (VCCEP); however, this pilot effort has yet to yield any new information on neurodevelopmental effects in children over the three years of its existence. A third effort, required under both FIFRA and the Safe Drinking Water Act, is the Endocrine Disruptor Screening and Testing Program (EDSTP). This program has been under development for the last seven years but is not specifically targeted to neurological outcomes. In September 2005, the EPA announced that it will begin to identify and screen the first 50–100 chemicals. However, identification of potential endocrine disruptors is of particular interest since, at least on a theoretical basis, these are chemicals that are most likely to modify. Meanwhile, the FDA is engaged in a process to assess pediatric effectiveness and hazards associated with certain drugs that are already on the market. This activity is occurring under the Best Pharmaceuticals for Children Act (PL-No. 107–109) that was enacted in 2002. This is an effort that will have enormous benefit for children. While the FDA has not yet adopted a protocol for developmental neurotoxicity testing of drugs or other agents it has considered this end point in several recent decisions. Developmental neurotoxicity testing is controversial. Some question whether the current EPA developmental neurotoxicity protocol is adequate for detection of disruption of all components of neurodevelopment, and over the full developmental time span (6). (For example, dosing begins later and ends prior to full development of the nervous system.) Others have been concerned about the numbers of animals required by the test and whether the test could be done more humanely in conjunction with other studies. Other controversies have to do with the circumstances under which the test is warranted, with some (mostly from industry) asserting that the test should be triggered only with clear indications, from earlier testing, that a substance is likely to be neurotoxic. A committee of the National Research Council in 2000 recommended that novel approaches

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be considered to the broader problem of assessing developmental toxicity of chemicals, utilizing so-called “model systems” that might “include in-vitro and cellular assays, nonmammalian (e.g., fruit fly, roundworm, and zebrafish) developmental assays, mammalian (e.g., the mouse) developmental assays, and in-depth mammalian tests of mechanism and susceptibility” (2) For developmental neurotoxicity such systems could provide much needed information about mechanisms of action that are critical in identifying developmental neurotoxicants, dose-response relationships, and critical windows of exposure. It has been suggested that particularly for developmental neurotoxicity such models are needed since the conventional test battery has missed important modes of action such as inhibition of DNA expression by the pesticide chlorpyrifos at levels below those associated with cholinesterase inhibition (8). The OECD in 1996 began a process to develop an internationally harmonized guideline for developmental neurotoxicity evaluations, and in September 2003 the OECD reviewed a final draft guideline. The new OECD guideline has some improvements over the EPA’s guideline. These may include extension of the period of postnatal dosing, assessment of preweaning reflex development, a change in the timing of the first neuropathological evaluation (from postnatal day 11 to postnatal day 21 or 22), tiered morphometric evaluation of offspring brains, and increased flexibility in the methods used to assign animals to testing (6). This guideline is scheduled for completion in 2006. Although these efforts to develop and improve upon developmental neurotoxicity testing guidelines are important, it is not yet clear how often and when the developmental neurotoxicity test will be used. Overall, it is fair to conclude that there has been progress on development of developmental neurotoxicity testing processes, but very little output in terms of new information at this point in time. Clearly, research efforts to develop better predictive models, as well as a better understanding of the fundamental mechanisms for neurotoxicity, are needed. Epidemiological Investigations As noted above, it is not only prevention of developmental disabilities, but also promotion of optimal brain functioning (and capacity to live a happy and productive life) that are goals of policy makers. Translating these goals to science is not easy. The functions of the brain are quite diverse, ranging from control over gross motor behavior to subtle abstract reasoning. Because environmental exposures can in theory disrupt the development of any or all of these functions, it is the goal of an epidemiological investigation of environmental effects to discover which such functions are affected by individual toxicants. From this one would like ultimately to infer what the impact is likely to be on individuals and the population as a whole, in terms of neurological functioning and disabilities. As Bellinger recently argued, it is important for many reasons to assess subtle changes in function (9). From a societal perspective, small shifts in average functioning can cause large burdens across the population if there are resulting increases in the extent of widespread vulnerability, for example of students to school failure and drop-outs, or of teenagers to difficulty with emotional control and violence. Furthermore, such small average shifts that may be observed in the middle of a distribution of functioning and behavior are often linked to similar shifts at the tails of the distribution (assuming no change in variance). Thus, a decline in population average implies a decrease in the number of exceptional performers and an increase in the number of poor performers. On the practical side, while small changes in population norms may be more difficult to assess technically than clinical disease states, it can be difficult for a population-based study to obtain sufficient power to observe small increases in rare diseases.

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Ideally, to assess risks of subtle neurological changes, we need assessment tools that make fine measurements of normal function. Since individual toxins might affect specific areas of function, termed “domains,” while leaving others untouched, the ideal research tool would assess each domain’s function independently. There are many theoretical schemas that divide brain functions into discrete domains. A workshop sponsored by the Agency for Toxic Substances and Disease Registry (ATSDR) (10) published a neurobehavioral test battery for use in environmental field studies; ATSDR proposed a list of eight cognitive domains, including affect (mood), memory, attention, social skills/ adjustment, learning, communication, executive control, activity regulation, and problem solving. Research in intelligence has also led to proposals that divide intellectual function into domains. This research has used factor analysis to identify distinct functional areas that are independent of other domains that are assessed in IQ batteries. This analysis has been used to highlight the strengths and weaknesses of current test batteries for IQ, none of which assess all of the posited domains. This work suggests that new tasks could be designed to provide a battery that would encompass sufficient numbers of tasks for each domain to produce valid and reliable scores across the range of brain function. Unfortunately, such a tool does not yet exist, and while clinicians can use individual tasks drawn from multiple batteries to probe an individual’s strengths and weaknesses for the purposes of designing an educational plan, such a practice is not possible in quantitative research, where the normative data are battery-specific. In practice, researchers have assessed brain function in children by using videotapes and scoring of behavior, parent and teacher interviews of behavior, neurological evaluations, records of school achievement, and standardized batteries known broadly as IQ tests. In each of these areas there are a number of tools that are available for different age ranges; each has advantages and disadvantages in field studies. Neurological assessments are available starting from birth. These have generally been designed for the purpose of identifying children with clinical disease and are relatively insensitive to small perturbations in function. Videotaping protocols have been used especially to look at changes in behavior, for example gender-based play, which has been hypothesized to change as a result of exposure to hormonally active compounds. Parent and teacher interviews are the main stay of the ATSDR protocol, and provide fairly low cost information, but are more open to bias. IQ-test test batteries are widely used in children as young as one-year-old to test both motor and cognitive function. A reliance of many tests on language to test cognitive function can impede good cross-cultural testing and also of course make it more difficult to assess individual domains. New test batteries continue to proliferate as computer-based assessments are developed, and tests are developed to target specific populations of disability. The public’s health is served best when genuine health risks are detected, and our relative intolerance of risking harm to children suggests that increased sensitivity would take precedence over greater specificity in the choice of a research tool for detecting a neurological outcome. In practice, this requires balancing the sophistication of the research tool against the size of the population to be evaluated. The more comprehensive the data collected, the more resource intensive the protocol. For example, asking parents to rate their children’s behavior on a questionnaire is more easily accomplished than videotaping and scoring children’s behavior in a structured situation. While videotaping protocols will create more quantitative and objective data, a structured interview such as is recommended by the ATSDR is experimentally more feasible in many instances, allowing for a larger population to be examined. It is possible that the larger size of the resultant study would increase the power to detect small differences between those with different levels of exposure to the toxicant of concern, assuming the tool is sensitive to real

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differences in behavior. On the other hand the greater sensitivity gained from using more quantifiable and objective data as from videotaping also can increase the power of a study. Obviously there are tradeoffs between various approaches that might be taken, even just in the context of increasing the sensitivity of studies. IQ tests, the most widely used measures of mental development, are most stable and reliable when global scores are reported. Using IQ tests, one strategy that frequently has been used to increase the sensitivity to neurotoxin-mediated effects has been to analyze sub-scales independently, which may give a picture of domain-specific effects. This is a less-than-perfect solution since individual tasks, such as copying block design or similes have relatively low re-test reliability on their own, while the psychomotor and verbal subscales arrived at by normalizing the scores on multiple related tasks have relatively greater stability. For both lead and PCBs, associations between exposure and performance on either full-scale or sub-scale scores have been reported, but in neither case does the literature as a whole reveal a consistent pattern of deficits that would correlate with a specific domain. For example, in preschoolers, using the McCarthy Scales, two Michigan cohort studies reported associations with PCB exposure (11,12) while a North Carolina study did not (13). In the Jacobson study, negative associations between cord blood PCB level and the verbal and memory sub-scores were observed at age 4, but effects were not significant for the General Cognitive Index (GCI). The Oswego Cohort study reported a negative association between cord blood levels of highly chlorinated PCBs and GCI as well as perceptual performance and quantitative subscales at 3 but not 4.5 years of age. With these inconsistent results, it is hard to know whether sub-scale analysis is legitimately providing evidence about performance on individual cognitive domains or, more likely, about general cognitive issues. Moreover, such analysis could in theory increase the statistical probability of a positive result by increasing the number of comparisons being made. In this situation, it is important to focus on the larger context in terms of patterns of responses on a number of subtests as opposed to picking out individual test results, out of the broader context (14). Many other factors will affect the sensitivity of a test to detect important but small differences in the performance of subsets of children. Including children from different cultural backgrounds in single study requires tests that are either culturally neutral or adaptable. The disadvantages children with first languages other than English face on many standard IQ tests is well-known, but other factors can also vary; for example, behavioral norms may be very different between ethnic groups, an important consideration in the scoring of videotaped data. Other sources of variation are: varied test conditions across geographic areas; age-appropriateness of tests; and inherent variability in performance when children are tested at certain ages. All of these are likely to lead to a loss of power to detect differences in the means between groups within a reasonable sized population. A second significant difficulty in good assessment of the impact of environmental exposures on development is the length of time needed in follow-up for these studies. Because retrospective exposure assessments are generally less reliable, prospective studies beginning perhaps in utero and continuing through school age would be ideal for assessing the range of development. One North Carolina cohort with early PCB exposure measures has been followed from birth and through adolescence (15,16). Such a study faces the problem of attrition over so many years so that there is less power to detect later effects and more potential for participation bids. Assessment tools that could be used at a young age to measure aspects of brain function that predict later development and success would address this problem by reducing the total time frame. Neurological evaluations have been used to assess children immediately after birth. However, these evaluations have utilized tools that were

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designed to identify major clinical outcomes and do not necessarily identify infants with suboptimum development due to chemical or pesticide exposures. The two most commonly used neonatal protocols are the Brazelton Neonatal Behavioral Assessment Scale (NBAS) and the Prechtl Neonatal Optimality Score (NOS). Brazelton designed the NBAS to be a “clinical, interactive, process-oriented instrument” which was designed to “reflect the neonate’s capacity to recover from. stress” over the several days after delivery (17). There are 27 items scored to assess the infant’s interactive, motor, and organizational (state and physiological control) capacities, and the examiner’s goal is to elicit the infant’s best performance, which Brazelton recognized can be influenced by the environment and the timing of the exam relative to things such as last feeding time and presence of the parents. He had many reservations about the use of this instrument as a one-time assessment of neonates, saying, “a single score, as an indication of goodness or badness is not what is obtained with the scale”, stressing instead the importance of the “recovery curve” (17). In addition, his experience indicated that rigorous centralized training was necessary to obtain reliable inter-examiner scoring, and that a stretch of cross-cultural or at-risk examinations could lead to drift in the scoring norms being used by any individual examiner. Nonetheless, this assessment has been found to be useful in studies such as the North Carolina Breast Feeding study, which found increased hypotonicity and hyporeflexia with higher PCB levels, (18) and lower psychomotor scores at 2 years of age (19). These specific differences did not persist at ages 3–5 (13). From the standpoint of policy implications it is not clear what significance early hypotonicity and hyporeflexia has in terms of later developmental disability and reduced intellectual performance. The NOS is more of a clinical neurological exam, with the most comprehensive version encompassing 250 items. As with the BNAS, inter-rater reliability is problematic, (20) with one study finding a correlation coefficient of only 0.31 (21). This scale defines clinically apparent neurological abnormalities. About 5% of a term population has been identified as abnormal, most having significant perinatal risk factors, which suggests that a very large study population would be necessary to detect environmental effects. While there is some evidence that children with abnormal neonatal scores are more likely to have later sequelae than children with normal scores, (22) the scale is much better as a negative predictor of later developmental disability than as a positive one, since many “abnormal” children at birth are normal by 6 months of age—one study finding 70% “recovery” (23). Another early measurement tool, the Fagan Test of Infant Intelligence (FTII), evaluates habituation and recognition of visual stimuli by infants, endpoints that are thought to be indicative of early intellectual development. A meta-analysis of the ability of these scores to predict IQ found that the weighted (for study size) average correlation coefficient was 0.36 between FTII and IQ scores between one and eight years later, (24) with a strong inverse relationship between study size and correlation coefficient. While this tool has been used more rarely, three cohort studies on PCBs have utilized the FTII. One reported an association between increased PCB levels and decreased novelty preference at 7 months (25) and a second found an association at 12 but not 6 months that accounted for just 2% of the variance) (26). Neither study group reports the predictive value of the FTII in later evaluations of their cohorts. A third group attempted to use the FTII but found that the interrater and re-test reliability were close to zero (27). Thus while it appears that the FTII is useful, it is not at all clear what its predictive value is for later IQ and neurological outcomes in children, within the ranges where effects are demonstrated in these studies. In conclusion, small shifts in the distribution of cognitive function within a population can have large public health burdens. Protecting the public health therefore

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dictates relatively sensitive research tools. The ideal assessment tool for large populationbased studies of low-level exposures to neurotoxins would be easily administered, culturally neutral, with domain-specific testing capacities. In practice, researchers face a difficult trade off between more detailed assessments and larger study populations, as well as a host of other population- and testing condition-specific considerations in picking the instrument. A lack of a priori information about which domains are likely to be affected by a particular neurotoxin also impedes optimal study design. Public health will be best served when neurotoxicity can be anticipated by laboratory-based research before compounds are allowed to contaminate the environment. This will require significant research on the correlations between human and animal cognitive functions in order to design model systems on which compounds can be screened. Assessment of Exposure to Developmental Neurotoxic Agents Theoretically, exposure to a xenobiotic can be measured at many points along the path to causing harm. The term exposure usually refers to measures of the levels of environmental contamination. A dose is the amount of xenobiotic that enters the body through various routes, such as food consumed, air breathed or dust touched. Internal dose is used to describe the amount of compound absorbed from each route, whether in the gut or the lungs or the skin. This is usually measured as an aggregate, either in circulation in the blood or as excreted in urine or stool. Effective dose is the concentration of the xenobiotic that arrives at the target tissue. Many pharmacokinetic differences between individuals will contribute to variation in the internal and effective doses for the same original exposure, because absorption, metabolism, volume of distribution, and rates of elimination can vary quite widely between individuals. Measuring the effective dose directly integrates such individual variation into the exposure assessment. Since the effective dose is responsible for causing the injury to the target tissue, it should be the best predictor of outcome (28). Thus, because individual variability modifies and complicates other exposure measures, and effective dose is most closely related to outcome, the ideal exposure assessment would measure the effective dose. This is especially important when designing a study to demonstrate causal effects of a xenobiotic on health because population-based studies contain many variables and confounders, and so the more accurately dose can be measured, the more power in the data to observe any real effect. Unfortunately, as will be discussed below, effective dose is almost impossible to measure directly in humans, and even internal dose, which may often be an adequate biomarker of exposure, can be difficult to obtain, in particular during the in utero period so critical for brain development. Research is needed to push our technical abilities to measure internal and effective dose for many compounds. In addition, research to understand the pharmacokinetic variables that moderate effective dose is needed to improve the measurement and modeling of this variability. The second critical feature of exposure assessment is the timing of exposure relative both to the environmental contamination event(s) and to the resultant injury. The concept of critical developmental windows derives from the observation that organs are most vulnerable to teratogens while they are actively being formed but often are relatively (or completely) resistant to the same toxicants either earlier or later during development (29). An assessment of exposure that is designed to correlate a toxicant with a developmental outcome would be most predictive of the effect if the exposure during the critical window were assessed directly. At a second best, we would want to know that the exposure assessment done was well correlated with the exposure during the time of concern. As will be discussed below, how well we can do this now depends on both the pharmacokinetics of the individual compounds and the extent to which the critical window is well-defined

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biologically. For neurological development, the question of timing is complicated because brain development begins in utero and continues throughout childhood and adolescence, with different regions undergoing maximal growth at different times. Therefore, it is probable that independent neurological and cognitive functions have unique critical windows, but most of these are not defined at present. Timing the exposure assessments to the contamination events is relevant particularly for episodic exposures of compounds that are readily excreted and therefore do not result in steady-state levels. The non-persistent pesticides such as chlorpyrifos, discussed below, are an important example. In practice it is difficult if not impossible to achieve the ideal of accounting for individual variability in the exposure assessment and correctly timing the assessment to the window of maximal effect in human studies. Without specific knowledge about when the critical windows occur, the two possible approaches are (1) to measure exposures over the extended period of development or (2) to reconstruct past exposures at various points during child development. How well either approach can be achieved for an individual compound is most significantly a result of pharmacokinetic properties because these determine the availability and stability of biomarkers to measure exposure. In particular, biological half-life, which results from a combination of metabolism and excretion rates, is a critical determinant of how robustly an ongoing or episodic exposure can be determined for an extended critical period such as experienced during brain development. For a compound with a long half-life, levels in blood, urine or other tissues will likely be stable over weeks or months. Both lead and polychlorinated biphenyls are in this category. Except in the face of an acute, high-level poisoning, storage tissues like bone (lead) and fat (PCBs) act as buffers against short-term changes in blood levels. Thus a single point measurement of levels provides a relatively reliable picture of the past weeks or months. Steady-state environmental exposures to compounds with short half-lives will also result in blood or excretion levels that are fairly constant over time; however, intermittent exposures can result in much more variable levels in tissues. Therefore, the total dose from intermittent exposures to compounds that are rapidly cleared will be much more difficult to measure accurately without a significant investment of time and resources. In addition, depending on the length of the “critical” developmental window, one might either miss the relevant measurement if it is short, or fail to fully characterize the exposure if it is long. Longer-term changes in both body burden and blood levels of persistent compounds occur as a result of the net effects of continued exposures, elimination and growth (increased volume of distribution). Rarely, rapid changes occur when conditions cause acute turnover of the storage compartment, for example with increased mobilization of bone calcium and lead into the blood stream during pregnancy. In addition, the solubility in the blood will vary with protein, cell and fat content, relevant variables that are easily measured and corrected for in practice. In one-recent study, blood draws separated by two years in children aged 7 and then 9 had correlations between rZ0.61 for b-HCH and rZ0.86 for DDE (30). Following a defined one-year exposure to polybrominated biphenyls through contaminated meat in Michigan in 1973, consecutive serum levels drawn in 1977, 1978 and 1979 for a cohort of 3683 individuals of diverse ages found very small decreases in levels year to year (31). These data again reinforce the validity of blood levels as relatively stable biomarkers for xenobiotics with long biological half-lives. The storage tissues in which such compounds accumulate are also theoretically available to be sampled as markers of cumulative exposure. Research on PCBs has demonstrated excellent correspondences between fat and blood levels, such that fat sampling is rarely done any more due to its increased invasiveness (32). For heavy metals, radiographic measurements of bone lead, or the accumulated levels in shed tissues such as hair and baby teeth are occasionally used for cumulative exposure assessment. These are

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not of clinical value but for the purpose of epidemiological study have been found to provide a useful metric for chronic, cumulative exposure to lead. In contrast, it is significantly more difficult to determine long-term exposures to more labile compounds. Compounds with short biological half-lives are often rapidly metabolized and excreted in the urine, which has been the traditional source for measuring internal dose to such xenobiotics as organophosphate pesticides (33). There is a range of technical drawbacks with urinary biomarkers. For example, some of the urinary excretion biomarkers for organophosphates have been metabolites that are common to the class as a whole, since hydrolysis releases an organic moiety and combinations of six dialkyl phosphate (DAP) metabolites depending on the methyl- and thio-substitution of the parent compound. However, DAP analysis is not an accurate reflection of cumulative organophosphate toxicity, since the proportional exposure to parent compounds with different potencies contributing to the pool of metabolites cannot be analyzed. In addition, the metabolite measured is not always proportionally generated with the actual toxicant (either parent or other metabolite) because metabolism involves multiple enzymes that can vary in function between individuals. This is the case for chlorpyrifos, where the quantity of toxic oxon metabolite is determined by a polymorphism in paraoxonase-1 (34,35) that is not reflected in the excretion of the measured metabolite 3,5,6-trichloro-2-pyridinol (TCPy). Finally, spot urine collection needs to be corrected for urine concentration, which is traditionally done using creatinine levels (36). Fortunately, there are more specific assays that are now available for some of the organophosphate pesticides. Recent development of sensitive high-resolution mass spectrometry detection methods has allowed for serum and plasma levels of some organophosphate pesticides to be determined (37). While such a method is a better assessment of internal dose than the urinary makers, the short half-life of organophosphates still contributes to a lack of stability in the measurement over time. The Minnesota Children’s Pesticide Exposure Study found poor correlation between repeated urinary measurements of organophosphate pesticides (38). In fact, the variability between measurements was greatest for those children with the highest average exposure levels— that is, those in whom a single high exposure was captured also had very low levels on other occasions. The short half-life of these compounds also meant that even known acute exposures were not well correlated with biomarkers. For 16 children who reported being present for pesticide applications during the week of monitoring, average urinary metabolite levels were not different from those who did not report acute exposure (38). The lack of stability over time means that accurately describing longitudinal exposure to these compounds over the years involved in development is a daunting practical problem. One approach has been to back off of biomarkers to questionnaires and environmental sampling in the hopes that these might provide more complete assessments of ongoing exposures. However, by stepping back in the exposure pathway, more variability is introduced that could misclassify individuals as to effective dose. In addition, one must know the major exposure pathways in order to be sure of assessing the largest components of dose. The MNCPES was not able to correlate any external exposure measurement (e.g., dust, duplicate diets, hand-wash samples) or self-reported historical use with urinary metabolite measures, (39) which suggests that we do not yet have a good handle on the exposure pathways that most impact internal dose. Measurement stability is less of a problem when studying more highly and consistently exposed sub-populations, for example, those with agricultural exposures or living in distressed urban environments, where large scale applications lead to sustained airborne exposures. For example, in New York City it was possible to observe a seasonal spike in the urinary pyrethroid metabolite PBA, but not other OP pesticides, during the

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summer of 2000, when pyrethroids were used widely by the city to control West Nile Virus, which was not present the previous summer when city-wide spraying was not performed (40). Similarly, in a largely agricultural community in Washington State, distance of residence from organophosphate-treated apple orchards predicted house dust concentrations and was marginally significantly related to children’s urine DMTP metabolite levels, the DAP detected with the greatest frequency (41). Unique to studies on development, the effects of in utero exposure can be profound. Alcohol consumption and fetal alcohol syndrome is a classic example of neurotoxicity following an exclusively in utero exposure; mothers do not develop the same neurologic effects as those that are caused in the developing child. Animal studies with known neurotoxins suggest that many compounds hamper development beginning in utero. The PCB literature of human exposure suggests a larger effect for in utero exposures than postnatal ones (13,19,25,42–45). In utero exposure assessment provides a distinct challenge in the development of biomarkers. Amniotic fluid contains all soluble metabolites excreted in the fetal urine after week 20 and other compounds filtered through the placenta. It is available from some pregnancies but general collection in the context a population-based study is not possible, and thus it is an impractical source in such studies, although it may prove able to validate other biomarkers of exposure. Similarly while it is possible to sample umbilical cord blood in utero, the risks to the fetus are unacceptable for research purposes. Maternal serum levels constitute the external environment of the fetus and as such may be a source of exposure information, especially for those compounds that may be in equilibrium between mother and fetus. Lipophilic compounds are readily soluble in fat, and thus biological membranes are freely permeable to such chemicals. If inter-individual variation in the partitioning of such compounds between tissues is small relative to the differences in blood concentrations between individuals, blood levels in the mother would be a good surrogate for effective dose in the fetus, since placental and brain partitioning would be largely driven by the maternal serum level. Studies that have looked at levels of PCBs in both maternal and cord blood with the most sensitive modern techniques find that levels are highly correlated (46). Therefore, maternal serum is probably a reasonable surrogate measure for the in utero brain exposures to such lipophilic compounds. More study is needed to investigate the extent to which fetal exposure to other potential neurotoxicants is correlated with circulating maternal levels. Cord blood, placental levels, and meconium are source of retrospective analysis available at birth. Cord blood is quite lean and so detection limits have made the use of this source difficult historically for lipophilic compounds; for example, PCB detection rates have averaged 30% in the past (47,48). Newer techniques have allowed for almost 100% detection of PCB in cord blood at the present time, making this a reasonable means of sampling this fetal biomarker (27,49). For compounds with short biological half-lives, the problems of extrapolating a nine-months exposure from a single measurement persist with the use of cord blood, which is only reasonably sampled in a population-study at the time of birth. One study on the distribution of methyl mercury in hamsters reported accumulation of MeHg in the fetus compared to the mother, but relatively similar levels between fetal brain and placenta, suggesting that placenta could act as a surrogate target tissue for in utero brain exposure (50). Meconium provides a cumulative record of compounds excreted in the stool starting in the second trimester. Pilot studies have demonstrated the feasibility of detecting many compounds in meconium, both persistent and non-persistent, (51,52) and this is a rich source of in utero exposure data that needs further research and development.

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In summary, accurate exposure assessment is fundamental to risk assessment which in turn informs policy makers about potential environmental hazards. Persistent compounds with long half-lives in the body can be measured using biomarkers that provide relatively robust estimates of long-term exposures, including estimates of in utero exposures in maternal serum. The stability of these measurements allows for epidemiological investigation of the effects of these compounds on neurodevelopment. In contrast, investigating the neurotoxicity of those compounds which are rapid metabolized and excreted is much more challenging because it is difficult to reliably assess exposure history, particularly to environmental contaminants. Some subpopulations such as inner-city residents may experience sufficiently consistent exposure levels to toxicants such as organophosphate pesticides that the stability of their biomarkers of exposure will enable such epidemiology to be accomplished. However even in these populations exposure assessments are likely to miss peak exposures during critical windows of development, resulting in decreased statistical power of studies (due to random misclassification of exposed subjects as unexposed). Meconium is a new potential source of cumulative in utero exposure data to these compounds and deserves more research attention. Finally, a major challenge to policy makers in assessing the risks is isolating the effects from environmental toxins from each other and all of the other factors that influence brain growth and development, such as the social and educational environment, since disadvantages in situation are often linked with increased environmental pollution.

TRACKING DEVELOPMENTAL DISABILITIES In 1999 one of us (LG) authored a report for the Pew Environmental Health Commission that called for the establishment of a nationwide health tracking system that would track the rates of developmental disabilities and birth defects in children, environmental exposures, and support research to determine the causes of these diseases (53). Since that time, a fair amount of progress has been made. The U.S. CDC has established a number of Centers of Excellence for tracking rates of autism and other developmental disabilities. These are new efforts but it can be expected that over the next few years we will begin to see better data regarding rates and trends of these diseases. Also, the State of California funded a comprehensive effort to assess rates and trends of autism and is funding research on autism. A nongovernmental organization, CAN, is also funding research. On the exposure side, the CDC also is funding state environmental public health surveillance projects and Centers of Excellence that are moving toward the development of a National Environmental Health Tracking system. Progress also has been made in the area of funding of fundamental research and particularly the funding of several NIEHS/EPA Children’s Centers that are specifically assessing developmental disabilities. At this time, the U.S. has reliable statistics for birth defects in many but not all states, but little or no information about rates of developmental disabilities in most jurisdictions.

POLICY ISSUES Principles There are several principles of environmental policy making that are particularly operative when it comes to issues of developmental neurotoxicity of chemicals. First is the precautionary principle. Given the existence of uncertainty, how should policy makers

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proceed? According to the precautionary principle, as articulated by United Nations Conference on Environment and Development (UNCED) in 1992: “In order to protect the environment, the precautionary approach shall be widely applied by States according to their capabilities. Where there are threats of serious or irreversible damage, lack of full scientific certainty shall not be used as a reason for postponing cost-effective measures to prevent environmental degradation” (54). Although this principle is not embodied in environmental law in the US the US has asserted that it follows a “precautionary approach”. The UNCED also adopted a principle related to intergenerational equity: “The right to development must be fulfilled so as to equitably meet developmental and environmental needs of present and future generations” (54). This principle is particularly relevant to the issue of developmental neurotoxicity since it is the wellbeing of future generations that would receive negatively impact if we inadvertently causes increases in developmental disabilities and chronic neurologic diseases. A purely economic analysis may miss the significance of such impacts because discounting can make the costs of control today appear to be too great compared to benefits that are decades into the future (55). Another principle involved in policy making in the U.S., is monetization of benefits and costs of environmental policies. Certainly the costs of developmental neurotoxicants in the environment are likely to be quite large. According to Landrigan et al. the total cost of environmental related diseases in U.S. children is in the range of $48.8 to $64.8 billion per year. Most of this is attributable to neurotoxicity: $43.7 billion for pediatric lead exposure and between $4.6 and $18.4 billion for major developmental disabilities not related to lead (depending on the attributable risk fraction from environmental exposures) (56). Some laws, such as the TSCA, as well as successive presidential Executive Orders since the time of President Carter, have required that regulatory agencies do formal economic analyses for certain actions. In the case of the Executive Orders, such analyses have been triggered by major rules (as defined by total impact of at least $100 million or the judgment of the US Office of Management and Budget). Economic analyses can play a number of roles including attempting to weight costs and benefits of an action (so-called cost-benefit analysis) weighing the relative cost effectiveness of alternative solutions to a problem and identification of economic inequities in impact that can inform decision making. Monetization creates challenges for regulation of developmental neurotoxic agents for a number of reasons including the difficulty of projecting impacts across a diverse population of humans from animal toxicity tests or more limited epidemiology studies and the difficulty in quantifying benefits of regulation such as prevention of IQ points lost. Another issue is, as noted above, that the standard practice of discounting that is used in economic analysis can result in devaluing the worth of future lives and the lives of our children (55). Laws and Regulations The basic structure of the domestic laws of the United States with respect to chemicals was established in 1972 for pesticides (Federal Insecticide, Fungicide and Rodenticide Act or FIFRA) and 1976 for industrial chemicals TSCA. In the face of widespread concern about the proliferation of chemicals and pesticides in commerce, and the unknown risks, Congress had given the U.S. EPA authority over testing of chemicals and pesticides, review of new introductions, and assessment and management of risks of existing chemicals. In 1988, Congress had amended and strengthened FIFRA. In 1986, it enacted the Emergency Preparedness and Community Right to Know Act (EPCRA), thereby establishing the Toxic Release Inventory (TRI) for tracking the releases and transfers of

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chemicals from industry. In 1990, it adopted the Pollution Prevention Act (PPA). In 1996, Congress enacted the FQPA which amended FIFRA and the Federal Food, Drug and Cosmetics Act (FFDCA) to strengthen public health protections for pesticides (as described above). Certain other substances (pharmaceuticals, food additives, medical devices, and cosmetics) were exempted from these statutes by Congress because they are regulated by the Food and Drug Administration under FFDCA. Further, the Consumer Products Safety Commission is responsible for regulation of chemicals as they occur in consumer products, under the Consumer Products Safety Act, and the Occupational Safety and Health Administration for regulation of workplace hazards under the Occupational Safety and Health Act. Together, these statutes form the legal framework for regulation of chemicals and pesticides in the US. There are also laws that establish non-regulatory responsibility for chemicals. For example, the National Institute of Occupational Safety and Health (NIOSH), which is a component of the CDC, has been given specific responsibilities for assessment and study of hazards related to OSHA’s mission. The Agency for Toxic Substance and Disease Registries (ATSDR) of the CDC has statutory responsibilities related to Superfund and other health assessments relevant to the work of the EPA. The National Institute of Environmental Health Sciences (NIEHS) has several statutory roles in the process. It houses the National Toxicology Program (which coordinates chemical testing within the government as well as the Report on Carcinogens (57). Recently the National Toxicology Program has begun to assess chemicals for developmental and reproductive hazards, for example, its recent assessments of phthalates (58) and methanol (59). International Efforts The “dirty dozen” POPs chemicals are twelve chemicals and pesticides that have been selected for control under the international Stockholm Convention on Persistent Organic Pollutants. Countries got together to create a convention because of the way that such pollutants move around the globe and because of the difficulty in controlling exposure; once they have entered the environment, you can’t just turn off the tap. The chemicals included are: the pesticides aldrin, chlordane, DDT, dieldrin, endrin, heptachlor, mirex, toxaphene, and hexachlorobenzene; the industrial chemicals PCBs; and the inadvertent contaminants dioxins and furans. Most of these are scheduled for a complete phaseout with a couple of notable exceptions. DDT has a public health exemption to allow for its use in malaria control. Dioxins and furans are not phased out but rather “phased down” in recognition of the fact that they are produced inadvertently and therefore are impossible to ban completely. The U.S. government has signed, but not ratified, this agreement, which came into force in 2004. Lead is one of the oldest and most familiar of persistent and toxic substances. Regulation of lead in gasoline, water and food sources, paint, and consumer products has resulted in dramatic decrease in lead levels in the U.S. over time. However, there are still high rates of lead exposure in many parts of the world, much of it from use of leaded gasoline. In 2002, UN Environmental Program governments agreed to phase out leaded gasoline globally. This action will result in dramatic reductions of blood lead levels in children worldwide. Even in the U.S., there are still pockets of lead exposure, mostly due to lead-contaminated housing. Additionally we still need to focus on other sources, for example, the recent news of high lead levels in drinking water in the District of Columbia. At last count, the CDC estimated that some 300,000 children under six have blood lead levels greater than 10 micrograms/deciliter (60) and evidence supports a lower target of 5 (61).

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Mercury is another important persistent substance. It is methylmercury that is of concern as a developmental neurotoxicant. For mercury, some progress has been made in the last ten years. The EPA has tightened the regulations on air emissions from municipal and medical waste incinerators (which used to be the most important sources), and industry has voluntarily reduced emissions from choralkalai production plants. In certain areas, progress has been delayed. The regulation of older power plants that were grandfathered by the 1972 Clean Air Act is gridlocked, with the EPA’s legislative efforts having been rejected by the courts and the EPA’s “Clear Skies” proposal not having moved in Congress in 2003. In 2002, the United Nations Environment Program completed a global assessment on mercury, which concluded that there is sufficient evidence of significant global adverse impacts from mercury to warrant further international action to reduce the risks to humans and wildlife from the release of mercury to the environment. In 2003, UNEP began a mercury program, which provides technical assistance to support national efforts to reduce human activities that cause mercury releases to the environment. Currently the European Union is undertaking a fundamental re-examination of its legislation for control of chemicals and considering the adoption of a new REACH (Registration, Evaluation and Authorization of Chemicals) approach that would result in a much larger base of information being made available about the toxicity of chemicals in their society. Such an approach would dramatically increase the ability to do hazard and risk assessments, if enacted. At the time of this writing it is not clear the extent to which it will increase the fund of knowledge about, and control over exposures to, developmental neurotoxic agents in the environment.

CONCLUSIONS Adverse neurological outcomes are very prevalent among our children, and there are enormous gaps in our knowledge about what causes such outcomes. Yet we are making progress in a number of areas, involving tracking efforts, research, testing, and risk management. What we do know to date about known factors has largely been derived from epidemiology studies of neurological outcomes among children exposed in utero and in the first few years of life. Clearly, such investigations provide critical information regarding developmental neurotoxicity. What is needed are larger longitudinal data bases to inform us of the associations between early childhood exposures—to persistent chemicals but also to pathogens, to nutrients, to pharmacologic agents, to injury, and to stress—and subsequent neurodevelopmental outcomes and disabilities. In addition, we need new toxicology models that will utilize in vitro and in vivo models to identify chemicals that are most likely to have modes of action that may be associated with developmental neurotoxicity. Finally, such information would be most useful within a framework that would prudently protect the fetus and developing child from harm, so as to safeguard the health and welfare of future generations.

REFERENCES 1. Brent RL. Environmental causes of human congenital malformations: the pediatrician’s role in dealing with these complex clinical problems caused by a multiplicity of environmental and genetic factors. Pediatrics 2004; 113:957–968.

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2. National Research Council. Committee on Developmental Toxicology. Scientific Frontiers in Developmental Toxicology and Risk Assessment. Washington, DC: National Academies Press, 2000. 3. National Research Council. Risk Assessment in the Federal Government: Managing the Process. Washington DC: National Academy Press, 1983. 4. Goldman LR. EPA seeks public health views on new pesticide law. Public Health Rep 1996; 111:512–514. 5. Rodier PM. Environmental causes of central nervous system maldevelopment. Pediatrics 2004; 113:1076–1083. 6. Kimmel CA, Makris SL. Recent developments in regulatory requirements for developmental toxicology. Toxicol Lett 2001; 120:73–82. 7. Crofton KM, Makris SL, Sette WF, Mendez E, Raffaele KC. A qualitative retrospective analysis of positive control data in developmental neurotoxicity studies. Neurotoxicol Teratol 2004; 26:345–352. 8. Slotkin TA. Guidelines for developmental neurotoxicity and their impact on organophosphate pesticides: a personal view from an academic perspective. Neurotoxicol 2004; 25:631–640. 9. Bellinger DC. What is an adverse effect? A possible resolution of clinical and epidemiological perspectives on neurobehavioral toxicity Environ Res 2004; 95:394–405. 10. ATSDR. Pediatric Environmental Neurobehavioral Test Battery. Atlanta, Georgia: US Department of Health and Human Services, 1996. 11. Stewart PW, Reihman J, Lonky EI, Darvill TJ, Pagano J. Cognitive development in preschool children prenatally exposed to PCBs and MeHg. Neurotoxicol Teratol 2003; 25:11–22. 12. Jacobson JL, Jacobson SW, Humphrey HE. Effects of in utero exposure to polychlorinated biphenyls and related contaminants on cognitive functioning in young children. J Pediatr 1990; 116:38–45. 13. Gladen BC, Rogan WJ. Effects of perinatal polychlorinated biphenyls and dichlorodiphenyl dichloroethene on later development. J Pediatr 1991; 119:58–63. 14. Rothman KJ. No adjustments are needed for multiple comparisons. Epidemiology 1990; 1:43–46. 15. Rogan WJ, Gladen BC, McKinney JD, et al. Polychlorinated biphenyls (PCBs) and dichlorodiphenyl dichloroethene (DDE) in human milk: effects of maternal factors and previous lactation. Am J Public Health 1986; 76:172–177. 16. Gladen BC, Ragan NB, Rogan WJ. Pubertal growth and development and prenatal and lactational exposure to polychlorinated biphenyls and dichlorodiphenyl dichloroethene. J Pediatr 2000; 136:490–496. 17. Brazelton TB. The Brazelton neonatal behavior assessment scale: introduction. Monogr Soc Res Child Dev 1978; 43:1–13. 18. Rogan WJ, Gladen BC, McKinney JD, et al. Neonatal effects of transplacental exposure to PCBs and DDE. J Pediatr 1986; 109:335–341. 19. Gladen BC, Rogan WJ, Hardy P, Thullen J, Tingelstad J, Tully M. Development after exposure to polychlorinated biphenyls and dichlorodiphenyl dichloroethene transplacentally and through human milk. J Pediatr 1988; 113:991–995. 20. Kakebeeke TH, Jongmans MJ, Dubowitz LM, Schoemaker MM, Henderson SE. Some aspects of the reliability of Touwen’s examination of the child with minor neurological dysfunction. Dev Med Child Neurol 1993; 35:1097–1105. 21. Moninex WM, Smolders-de Hass H, Bonsel GJ, Zondervan HA. Interobserver variability of the neurological optimality score. Eur J Obstet Gynecol 1999; 85:167–171. 22. Touwen BCL, Lok-Meijer TY, Huisjes HJ, Olinga AA. The recovery rate of neurologically deviant newborns. Early Hum Dev 1982; 7:131–148. 23. Stave U, Ruvalo C. Neurological development in very-low-birthweight infants. Application of a standardized examination and Prechtl’s optimality concept in routine evaluations. Early Hum Dev 1980; 4:229–241. 24. McCall RB, Carriger MS. A meta-analysis of infant habituation and recognition memory performance as predictors of later IQ. Child Dev 1993; 64:57–79.

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25. Jacobson JL, Jacobson SW. Intellectual impairment in children exposed to polychlorinated biphenyls in utero. N Engl J Med 1996; 335:783–789 see comments. 26. Darvill T, Lonky E, Reihman J, Stewart P, Pagano J. Prenatal exposure to PCBs and infant performance on the fagan test of infant intelligence. Neurotoxicology 2000; 21:1029–1038. 27. Winneke G, Bucholski A, Heinzow B, et al. Developmental neurotoxicity of polychlorinated biphenyls (PCBS): cognitive and psychomotor functions in 7-months old children. Toxicol Lett 1998; 102–103:423–428. 28. Sexton K, Callahan MA, Bryan EF. Estimating exposure and dose to characterize health risks: the role of human tissue monitoring in exposure assessment. Environ Health Perspect 1995; 103:13–29. 29. Rice D, Barone S, Jr. Critical periods of vulnerability for the developing nervous system: evidence from humans and animal models. Environ Health Perspect 2000; 108:511–533. 30. Karmaus W, DeKoning EP, Kruse H, Witten J, Osius N. Early childhood determinants of organochlorine concentrations in school- aged children. Pediatr Res 2001; 50:331–336. 31. Kreiss K, Roberts C, Humphrey HE. Serial PBB levels, PCB levels, and clinical chemistries in Michigan’s PBB cohort. Arch Environ Health 1982; 37:141–147. 32. Patterson DGJ, Todd GD, Turner WE, Maggio V, Alexander LR, Needham LL. Levels of nonortho-substituted (coplanar), mono- and di-ortho-substituted polychlorinated biphenyls, dibenzo-p-dioxins, and dibenzofurans in human serum and adipose tissue. Environ Health Perspect 1994; 102:195–204. 33. Barr DB, Barr JR, Maggio VL, et al. A multi-analyte method for the quantification of contemporary pesticides in human serum and plasma using high-resolution mass spectrometry. J Chromatogr B Analyt Technol Biomed Life Sci 2002; 778:99–111. 34. Costa LG, Li WF, Richter RJ, Shih DM, Lusis A, Furlong CE. The role of paraoxonase (PON1) in the detoxication of organophosphates and its human polymorphism. Chem Biol Interact 1999; 119–120:429–438. 35. Furlong CE, Cole TB, Jarvik GP, Costa LG. Pharmacogenomic considerations of the paraoxonase polymorphisms. Pharmacogenomics 2002; 3:341–348. 36. IRCP. Report of the Task Group on Reference Man. Amsterdam, NY: Elsevier Science Inc, 1994. 37. Barr DB, Needham LL. Analytical methods for biological monitoring of exposure to pesticides: a review. J Chromatogr B Analyt Technol Biomed Life Sci 2002; 778:5–29. 38. Adgate JL, Barr DB, Clayton CA, et al. Measurement of children’s exposure to pesticides: analysis of urinary metabolite levels in a probability-based sample. Environ Health Perspect 2001; 109:583–590. 39. Sexton K, Adgate JL, Eberly LE, et al. Predicting children’s short-term exposure to pesticides: results of a questionnaire screening approach. Environ Health Perspect 2003; 111:123–128. 40. Berkowitz GS, Obel J, Deych E, et al. Exposure to indoor pesticides during pregnancy in a multiethnic, urban cohort. Environ Health Perspect 2003; 111:79–84. 41. Lu C, Fenske RA, Simcox NJ, Kalman D. Pesticide exposure of children in an agricultural community: evidence of household proximity to farmland and take home exposure pathways. Environ Res 2000; 84:290–302. 42. Jacobson SW, Fein GG, Jacobson JL, Schwartz PM, Dowler JK. The effect of intrauterine PCB exposure on visual recognition memory. Child Dev 1985; 56:853–860. 43. Jacobson JL, Humphrey HE, Jacobson SW, Schantz SL, Mullin MD, Welch R. Determinants of polychlorinated biphenyls (PCBs), polybrominated biphenyls (PBBs), and dichlorodiphenyl trichloroethane (DDT) levels in the sera of young children. Am J Public Health 1989; 79:1401–1404. 44. Lanting CI, Patandin S, Fidler V, et al. Neurological condition in 42-months-old children in relation to pre- and postnatal exposure to polychlorinated biphenyls and dioxins. Early Hum Dev 1998; 50:283–292. 45. Patandin S, Lanting CI, Mulder PG, Boersma ER, Sauer PJ, Weisglas-Kuperus N. Effects of environmental exposure to polychlorinated biphenyls and dioxins on cognitive abilities in Dutch children at 42 months of age. J Pediatr 1999; 134:33–41 see comments.

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46. Steuerwald U, Weihe P, Jorgensen PJ, et al. Maternal seafood diet, methylmercury exposure, and neonatal neurologic function. J Pediatr 2000; 136:599–605. 47. Fein GG, Jacobson JL, Jacobson SW, Schwartz PM, Dowler JK. Prenatal exposure to polychlorinated biphenyls: effects on birth size and gestational age. J Pediatr 1984; 105:315–320. 48. Stewart P, Reihman J, Lonky E, Darvill T, Pagano J. Prenatal PCB exposure and neonatal behavioral assessment scale (NBAS) performance. Neurotoxicol Teratol 2001; 22:21–29. 49. Grandjean P, Weihe P, Burse VW, et al. Neurobehavioral deficits associated with PCB in 7-year-old children prenatally exposed to seafood neurotoxicants. Neurotoxicol Teratol 2001; 23:305–313. 50. Dock L, Rissanen RL, Vahter M. Demethylation and placental transfer of methyl mercury in the pregnant hamster. Toxicology 1994; 94:131–142. 51. Whyatt RM, Barr DB. Measurement of organophosphate metabolites in postpartum meconium as a potential biomarker of prenatal exposure: a validation study. Environ Health Perspect 2001; 109:417–420. 52. Hong Z, Gunter M, Randow FF. Meconium: a matrix reflecting potential fetal exposure to organochlorine pesticides and its metabolites. Ecotoxicol Environ Safety 2002; 51:60–64. 53. Goldman LR, Apelberg B, Koduru S, Sorian R. Healthy From the Start: Why America Needs a Better System to Track and Understand Birth Defects and the Environment. Baltimore, MD: Pew Environmental Health Commission, 1999. 54. United Nations Conference on Environment and Development. Rio Declaration on Environment and Development. Rio de Janeiro, Brazil: United Nations, 1992. 55. Heinzerling L. Discounting life. Yale Law J 1912 (1998–1999); 108:1911–1916. 56. Landrigan PJ, Schechter CB, Lipton JM, Fahs MC, Schwartz J. Environmental pollutants and disease in American children: estimates of morbidity, mortality, and costs for lead poisoning, asthma, cancer, and developmental disabilities. Environ Health Perspect 2002; 110:721–728. 57. National Toxicology Program. Report on Carcinogens, Tenth Edition: U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, Public Health Service, National Toxicology Program, 2002. 58. Kavlock R, Boekelheide K, Chapin R, et al. NTP center for the evaluation of risks to human reproduction: phthalates expert panel report on the reproductive and developmental toxicity of di-n-hexyl phthalate. Reprod Toxicol 2002; 16:709–719. 59. Shelby M, Portier C, Goldman L, et al. NTP-CERHR expert panel report on the reproductive and developmental toxicity of methanol. Reprod Toxicol 2004; 18:303–390. 60. U.S. Center for Disease Control and Prevention. Blood lead levels in young children—United States and selected states, 1996–1999. Morb Mortal Wkly Rep 2000; 49:1133–1137. 61. Lanphear BP, Dietrich K, Auinger P, Cox C. Cognitive deficits associated with blood lead concentrations !10 microg/dL in US children and adolescents. Public Health Rep 2000; 115:521–529.

23 Research to Clinical Practice: A Pediatric Environmental Health Perspective April A. Harper Division of General Pediatrics, Children’s Hospital Boston, Harvard Medical School, Boston, Massachusetts, U.S.A.

Michael W. Shannon Division of Emergency Medicine, Children’s Hospital Boston, Harvard Medical School, Boston, Massachusetts, U.S.A.

INTRODUCTION Children are particularly vulnerable to hazardous substances within their environment. This heightened susceptibility results from the fact that children are in a progressive state of growth and development, in utero through adolescence. The obvious implication of this is that children can receive substantially larger exposures pound for pound than adults to toxins present in their water, food, or air. Unfortunately, hazardous substances such as lead, solvents, pesticides, and polychlorinated biphenyls (PCBs) have now found their way into the homes, schools, and playgrounds of all children. Within the discipline of Pediatrics the availability of specialized expertise to evaluate the relationships between child health and well-being and the impact of the physical, chemical, and biological contaminants in the environment has been limited. This deficit promoted the recent development of a new subspecialty, Pediatric Environmental Health (PEH), whose focus is to improve and protect children’s health through prevention, education, diagnosis, and treatment of environmentally-related diseases in children. PEH is both a clinical and public health area. Health practitioners, governmental and. advisory agencies, and parents are recognizing its importance. From this increased awareness, the Pediatric Environmental Health Specialty Units (PEHSUs) were established. In 1998, in partnership with the Agency of Toxic Substances and Disease Registry (ATSDR), the Association of Occupational and Environmental Clinics created the PEHSUs to encourage environmental medical specialists to work collaboratively with pediatricians to further develop proficiency in the recognition, diagnosis, and treatment of children affected by environmental hazards. The program has now grown to include a national network of 11 multidisciplinary operating units and clinics (Table 1) (1,2). Children today inhabit a world that is fundamentally different from that of past generations, facing hazards in the environment that did not exist or whose clinical effects 483

484 Table 1

Harper and Shannon Pediatric Environmental Health Subspecialty Unit Locations

United States Region 1 Region 2 Region 3 Region 4 Region 5 Region 6 Region 7 Region 8 Region 9 Region 10 Locations Outside the United States

Boston, MA New York, NY Washington, D.C. Atlanta, GA Chicago, IL Tyler, TX Iowa City, IA Denver, CO Irvine and San Francisco, CA Seattle, WA Alberta, Canada Morelos, Mexico

Source: Adapted from Ref. 46.

were neither known nor suspected only a few decades ago. For PEH professionals to accurately determine if a child is at risk as a result of an exposure, future research that recognizes patterns of environmental disease in children; assesses the impact of children’s unique vulnerability to environmental toxicants; identifies critical developmental periods of exposure; and quantifies dose-response relationships in children are needed. This information will contribute to a better understanding of the relationship between environmental exposures and health outcomes in children and provide guidance to clinical management and interventions (44,45).

THE ROLE OF SCIENTIFIC RESEARCH IN CLINICAL PRACTICE Both clinicians and the general public have become increasingly aware that neurodevelopmental disorders may result from exposures to a variety of chemical hazards that are now ubiquitous within the environment. They include the metals lead, mercury, and manganese; pesticides such as organophosphates and others that are widely used in homes and schools; dioxin and PCBs in the food chain; and solvents, including ethanol and others used in paints, glues, and cleaning solutions (30,54). These agents may be directly toxic to cells or interfere with hormones as endocrine disruptors, neurotransmitters, or other growth factors (3,19,21,25,62,66,72,74,75). At least 75,000 new synthetic chemicals have been developed and dispersed into the environment; fewer than half of these chemicals have ever been tested for their potential toxicity to humans, and fewer still have been assessed for their toxicity to children (3,67,82). During the last few decades, much has been learned about the neurobehavioral consequences of chemical exposure to adults in the workplace. By comparison, much less is known about the neurotoxicity of a chemical exposure, other than lead and mercury, in children. What we have learned is that neurotoxicity can occur any time during the life cycle, from conception to senescence, and its manifestations can change with age. Different responses to the same neurotoxicant can occur, depending upon the dose and timing of exposure. In addition, different agents can produce similar patterns of effects (6). Expression of neurotoxicity can encompass multiple levels of organization and complexity, including structural, biochemical, and physiological and behavioral, and

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there is a risk that the resulting neurobehavioral dysfunction can be permanent and irreversible (6,7,12). Even with the improvements made in neurotoxicity research and risk assessment, there is still a worldwide concern about the potential neurotoxic effects of environmental contaminants in children (36). Currently, there are relatively large gaps in our knowledge regarding the effects of chemical exposures on the development of the nervous system and the resulting psychological and behavioral correlates. Consequently, our tools to measure neurobehavioral dysfunction in children are often crude, insensitive, and poorly validated.

SPECIFIC RESEARCH NEEDS Practitioners of PEH need to improve their overall understanding of the relationship between environmental exposures and health outcomes in children. Future research that identifies patterns of environmental diseases in children, determines critical developmental periods, and addresses the unique vulnerability of children will strengthen the ability of a clinician to predict a potential of neurotoxic injury and prognosis following an exposure. Specific research advances regarding risk assessment will require a more childoriented approach that quantifies dose-response relationships in children, develops and validates the use of new biomarkers, and explores the influence of gene-environment interactions on toxicity. Finally, the establishment of a more comprehensive and sensitive battery of neurobehavioral tests and measures is required. Such advances will contribute to the improvement of clinical oriented preventions and interventions within the developing field of PEH. Patterns of Environmental Diseases in Children Disease patterns in children have changed drastically in the industrially developed nations of the world over the last century. Despite a lower infant mortally rate and increased life expectancy, children today are confronted with serious diseases that are often chronic and debilitating in nature (82). Examples include asthma, the incidence of which has almost doubled in the last 10–15 years; childhood cancer, for which the incidence of certain types has substantially increased; and the increases in the prevalences of developmental, learning, and behavioral disabilities (57–59,82). The causes of the common chronic disease and developmental disabilities among children in the United States today are not clearly understood. The last few decades have seen increasing recognition that children’s exposures to environmental toxicants play a role in the development of certain chronic disease. The U.S. National Academy of Sciences (NAS) estimated in 2000 that 3% of neurobehavioral disorders in American children are caused directly by an environmental exposure and that another 25% are caused by the interaction between a child’s genetic susceptibility and environmental factors (60,82). Lead is now recognized as a significant cause of neurobehavioral dysfunction, producing measurable loss of IQ at very low blood levels, as well as alterations in behavior (21,24–25,31,32). In utero exposures to chemicals such as methyl mercury, resulting from regular maternal fish consumption, have been implicated in language, attention, and memory impairments, and children exposed to PCBs during fetal life show IQ deficits, hyperactivity, and attention deficits when tested years later (18,33,35,52,61–66,83). Many diseases that are triggered by environmental toxicants require decades to develop. Examples include mesothelioma caused by exposure to asbestos and leukemia

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caused by benzene (39,47). Because children have more future years of life than do most adults, they have more time to develop chronic diseases that may be triggered by early environmental exposures (82). Although the enhanced susceptibility of infants and children to environmental toxicants has been shown in multiple studies, the extent to which environmentally-induced pediatric illness contributes to adult disease has not been well-characterized. Environmental epidemiology research plays a critical role in identifying associations between disease and morbidity, distinguishing populations at high risk, and discovering casual factors and routes of exposure to environmental contaminants (11,14,17). Additionally, epidemiologic research can contribute to the integration of population data, providing clinical and laboratory insights into the understanding of mechanisms of disease causation (14,16). Future epidemiologic studies designed to establish the prevalence and incidence of neurologic dysfunction in children resulting from an exposure would be extremely beneficial in describing correlation of reported neurotoxic effects with exposure data. There is a tremendous need for well designed and executed studies that address the role of environmental exposures in childhood chronic illness (14). Research that characterizes more precisely the link between an exposure and resultant disease should be performed to accurately define the pathway from exposure to disease. This will enable the clinician to effectively implement prevention and intervention measures. Prospective longitudinal studies consisting of children with known or even suspected exposures, particularly in utero exposures, are also needed to elucidate environmental exposures in early life and their relationship to adult disease (14,53,67). Identifying Critical Periods of Exposure Certain periods during development of the nervous system are more sensitive to environmental insults because of their dependence on the sequential progression of developmental processes (i.e., synaptogenesis and myelination). These developmental processes can extend from the embryonic period through adolescence (7–9,12). Exposure to an environmental toxicant, particularly in the fetal period, can disrupt these processes and result in developmental neurotoxicity and injury. The actual mechanisms by which these processes are perturbed by an agent, and to what extent, remain unknown for many chemicals (51). As a result, the clinical correlation of errors created by neurotoxic agents on developmental processes is not always clearly defined. The human fetus can be exposed to neurotoxicants through placental transport and higher quantities of these compounds can be transferred to the infant during breast-feeding (65,68,70–74). Rarely have early gestational versus late gestational versus lactational exposures been examined. Studies have shown that lactational exposures can contribute significantly to a child’s burden (68–70). For example, Schecter et al. reported that lactational transfer represents an important source of PCBs and dioxins to the developing infant. While the level of exposure decreases after weaning, the young child is still more highly exposed on a daily basis than the adult (70). Understanding the critical timing of exposures will aid practitioners in determining where the most effective and feasible exposure prevention may occur along the developmental spectrum. Multigenerational testing in animal models exploring prenatal and postnatal developmental toxicity has long been utilized to gather valuable information pertaining to critical developmental periods of vulnerability (27,51). Unfortunately, the current multigenerational tests performed in animals are conducted on relatively few environmental contaminants. In addition, the application of animal data to human toxicity

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is still somewhat unclear and controversial. For the clinician, three key gaps in information need to be explored: (1) the relevance of animal models for predicting outcomes in humans, (2) the lack of comparative developmental profiles in animal models, and (3) application of testing protocols, both of animals and humans, in evaluating functional outcomes at relevant life stages (51,56). Once these issues are clarified by appropriate experimentation, the practitioner will be able to efficiently utilize animal data to reduce the range of uncertainties in determining toxicity in a child (29).

Impact of the Unique Vulnerability of Children The vulnerability of children to environmental containments is related to both qualitative and quantitative differences between children and adults (6,50,78,83). For example, the dietary habits of infants are clearly different from those of an adult. In addition to ingesting food and drink, children also have a greater opportunity of exploratory ingestion of unusual materials such as soil and dust (50). Children eat more food per unit of body weight and typically drink more water than do adults (Table 1) (6,12,37). Other exposure differences can be explained by dissimilarity in behaviors. Children spend significant time crawling and utilizing their hands for increased mobility. This behavior causes them to come into contact with many residential hazards, such as pesticide residues on carpets and lawns, that are not routinely present in an adult’s exposure pathway (15,19,37). Heightened vulnerability to exposure is compounded by age-related differences in susceptibility. Pharmacokinetic factors that contribute to differences in absorption, distribution, metabolism, and excretion can affect the amount and form (e.g., an active metabolite) of a chemical reaching a target site and could influence the toxic response (78,83). For example, pesticides such as carbamate and organophosphate thioether compounds must be metabolized by the cytochrome P-450 system (phase I and/or phase II enzymes) to become biologically active and produce a response (13,45,75,76). Many of the enzymes involved in the cytochrome P-450 system remain at low levels during prenatal and neonatal development (78,80,83). They do, however, attain adult levels fairly rapidly postnatally, at 6–12 months of age (50,78). In adults, cytochrome P-450 catalytic activity can be induced but tends to remain relatively stable (80). Therefore, the rate of formation of toxic metabolites differs in adults and children. The NAS report Pesticides in the Diets of Infants and Children, concluded that there can be large differences between children and adults in metabolite production; children may experience quantitatively and qualitatively different exposures to chemicals than do adults; that children may have differential sensitivity to chemically-induced toxicity compared to adults; and that standard approaches to risk assessment and regulation may not always account explicitly for potential age-related differences in exposure and toxicity (76,77). The challenge in evaluating potential adverse effects of chemicals on children is to design studies that will identify and quantify the influence of differential sensitivities on toxicological outcome. Tests involving intentional exposure to children will never be conducted (20,27). Consequently, it is important to identify animal models and design protocols (route, intensity, and duration of exposure) that are appropriate for extrapolating to human infants and children. Incorporating animals at all stages of growth and development into the currently used testing protocols would be useful for establishing the extent to which differential sensitivities between children and adults modify overall toxicity (43).

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Development and Use of Biomarkers Direct measurements of biomarkers in the form of biochemical, molecular, and cytogenetic probes are needed to conduct an accurate exposure assessment in children. The use of biomarkers is particularly valuable in a clinical setting when (a) exposures occur through multiple routes and pathways; (b) there is significant potential for dermal absorption or ingestion (i.e., from hand-to-mouth activity); or (c) there is a high ratio of sampling burden to subject ability (cognitive and physical) (10,28,32,41,42). Three types of biomarkers are useful in making the diagnosis of neurotoxic illness: biomarkers of exposure, biomarkers of effect, and biomarkers of susceptibility (8,13,41). Biomarkers of exposure are measures of internal dose, the biologically active dose, or the product of an interaction between a chemical and target molecule or receptor (13). The most common biomarkers of exposure are obtained through the determination of internal dose levels of a toxicant or its metabolite in a biological media (5,15,28). Biomarkers of effect are measurable biochemical or physiological perturbations within the nervous system that can be associated with an adverse health effect (5,15). In a clinical setting, this refers to qualitative or quantitative change noted from baseline or expected levels of performance that result from a given chemical exposure; for example, results from neuropsychological testing or neuroimaging studies (13,15,22). Biomarkers of susceptibility are indicators of increased or decreased risk and reflect an individual’s level of sensitivity to a chemical. An intrinsic genetic characteristic, such as a polymorphism, that results in an increase in the internal dose, the biologically effective dose, or the target tissue response is an example of a marker of increased susceptibility (4,9,41). Biomarkers that are specific to a particular environmental exposure can aid in the identification of the early stages of neurological impairment and in the understanding of basic mechanisms of exposure and response. Despite the clinical relevance of biomarkers, they should be interpreted with caution. Very few specific neurotoxicity biomarkers have been developed because of the complexity of the nervous system. Nonetheless, the use of biomarkers in clinical practice is essential (10,28,41,42). The development of adequate laboratory procedures for the application of suitable tests to measure biomarkers is fundamental to assure accurate and objective findings (8,9,15). Each new biomarker requires a comprehensive validation process. Biomarkers of exposure or effect must be validated in terms of their ability to assess the true exposure or disease (sensitivity) and their ability to assess the lack of exposure or disease (specificity). Establishment of normal baseline values and characterization of the distribution of biomarkers in laboratory animals, and determination of how they can be extrapolated to humans of all ages, will help to identify exposed persons so that risk can be predicted and disease prevented. An example of a biomarker that has been extensively validated for both exposure and effect is blood lead concentration. The ability to measure whole blood lead levels has had an enormous impact on the prevention, management, and treatment of lead poisoning in children (21,24). This example demonstrates the importance of internal dose biomarkers for clinicians and the many advantages they can provide for effective treatment and regulation. It is necessary to consider individual variability when using biomarker data, and as a result it is unlikely that general neurotoxicity biomarkers will be developed (5). Although many studies have used biomarkers in the adult clinical setting, limited research has been conducted using biomarkers to identify children affected by an environmental exposure. PEH research needs to continue to investigate and establish new biomarkers of exposure, effect, and susceptibility that can be integrated into future studies investigating

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environmental factors and childhood disease etiology. To do so, extensive and continued research on the basic mechanisms by which chemicals and their metabolites interact with developing tissues and organs of children and other organisms should be performed. The data will further our understanding of the biochemical interactions involved in the development of environmentally-induced illness. Information such as this would facilitate the clinician’s ability to detect a toxic exposure, monitor a disease treatment, perform preventive screening in high-risk populations, such as pregnant women, and to include environmental toxic exposures in differential diagnosis (42). Determining the Influence of the Gene-Environmental Interaction Most diseases affect the individual in ways that depend upon the age, susceptibility, environmental exposures, and genotype. The effect of the genotype on disease may occur through mechanisms of cellular regulation and growth, DNA replication and repair, and metabolism and biotransformation of endogenous or exogenous agents (4,80). Many genetic polymorphisms are known to contribute to enhanced or decreased sensitivity to toxicants and environmentally-related disease (4,80). For example, pesticides, such as parathion, are metabolized by the cytochrome p-450 system to paraoxon, which is a potent cholinesterase inhibitor. The enzyme paraoxonase (PON) catalyzes the hydrolysis of toxic metabolites and protects against pesticide toxicity, such as parathion. Polymorphisms in the genotype of this enzyme have been shown to alter serum PON activity, to affect the distribution and persistence of parathion metabolites in farm workers (45), and thus to affect susceptibility to chronic pesticide poisoning. The application of molecular biology assay techniques to aid in clinical diagnosis has dramatically increased, and improved methods of DNA diagnosis are now available in the clinical setting (3,4,42). Researchers should continue to explore gene–environment interactions and to expand our understanding regarding the contribution of genotype differences to an individual’s disease susceptibility. Future PEH research needs to identify, develop, and validate genetic markers of susceptibility in children. Children and Risk Assessment Relying heavily on existing toxicity information developed on a specific environmental contaminant, practitioners make decisions regarding level of toxicity and weigh available evidence about the contaminant’s potential to cause adverse health effects. This process is referred to as a risk assessment. Risk assessment is an attempt to evaluate the hazardous properties of a chemical and to determine the risks that result from exposure to it (81). Risk assessment is based on clinical and epidemiologic studies in which the effects of a toxic chemical are evaluated directly in humans, but more often it is based on toxicological studies of a chemical in animal models (81–82). To determine the potential risk to an infant or child resulting from a particular exposure may require many assumptions and extrapolations (27,40,56). Consequently, the results of a risk assessment performed for an infant or child are often controversial. There are four phases in a risk assessment: hazard identification, dose-response assessment, exposure assessment, and risk characterization. When applying the process of risk assessment to children, obvious data gaps within each phase should be highlighted: 1. The hazard identification phase is to determine whether exposure to an agent can increase the incidence of an adverse health effect (9). In PEH, the first step in hazard identification is clinical observation. Unfortunately, clinical recognition

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can occur only after disease symptomotology becomes evident. Diseases caused by environmental toxicants are frequently indistinguishable from illnesses caused by other factors. Outside of an acute poisoning, relying on clinical recognition to identify a link between an environmental toxicant or exposure and disease often proves challenging. Additionally, many years can elapse between exposure to a toxicant and the appearance of disease, making the assessment of past exposures extraordinarily difficult (56,82). Testing the possible toxicity of all new chemical compounds in animal models before they are ever used commercially or residentially can facilitate the identification of potential hazards much more efficiently and systematically. To do so, research needs to improve the linkage of toxicity testing studies to realworld exposures by developing an expanded set of research tools; developing and improving test methods to characterize the potential for chemicals to cause toxicity as a result of exposure during development; and evaluating alternative screening and testing methods that offer the potential to more rapidly, efficiently, and effectively assess potential health impacts of chemical exposures (67,76,77,81–82). This information will assist in the identification of chemical hazards before human exposure, disease, and death occurr. 2. The dose-response assessment phase evaluates toxicity information and characterizes the relationship between received dose of the contaminant and occurrence of adverse health effects within an exposed population (9). The doseresponse relationship is of particular importance for children. Unfortunately, as discussed previously, there is a distinct lack of information about the effects of most chemicals on the developing system. Toxicity testing of chemicals generally fails to consider the special vulnerability of infants and children; therefore, it provides little information about the hazards of toxic chemicals in this age group (81–83). For example, the overwhelming majority of pesticides have never been tested in animal newborns (76–77). Testing characteristically begins at age six to eight weeks, which corresponds roughly to five years of age in humans (82). Rarely have studies been conducted in which experimental animals were exposed to pesticides in utero or early in life and then followed over a lifetime to assess the late effects of early exposures. This is the situation that typically occurs in real life when infants are exposed to significant quantities of pesticides during development (76,77,81–82). Consequently, little is known of the delayed effects of early exposures to pesticides and other environmental toxicants. Future research is needed to better characterize the potential toxicity of the environmental chemicals to which children are frequently exposed. For example, studies evaluating both acute and delayed neurotoxic consequences of exposure to agents such as mercury, PCBs, solvents, pesticides and endocrine disruptors are needed. Basic science studies should include a comprehensive assessment of the toxickinetics relative to exposure dose during all stages of development. This will assist in determining the proper margin of safety and “effective” internal dose in children. Mechanistic toxicity studies in animals are needed for the evaluation of both single chemicals and mixtures. Many exposure scenarios involve more than one agent. Furthermore, development of methods and principles to determine the relationship between low-dose exposure and health risks to children, including concerns of unanticipated toxicity interactions and vulnerabilities of susceptible subpopulations, is an important research need. A better understanding of dose-response relationship would enhance the

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accuracy of risk assessments performed on infants and children in a clinical setting. 3. The exposure assessment phase evaluates exposure to the toxin in terms of exposure source, magnitude, duration, frequency and pathways of exposure (9,13,15). Exposure assessment must be expanded to include consideration of the unique dietary factors and behaviors of children. For example, the proximity of children to the ground increases their exposure, compared to an adult’s exposure, to chemical contaminants that may be present in dust and soil (81–83). Exposure assessment techniques often involve the use of biomarkers, which currently have restricted application in children. This limitation should be addressed. For example, because biologic monitoring data are often insufficient in children, the use of parent-child study pairs who are similar genetically and may have similar exposures can be utilized to permit an assessment of the importance of age in determining susceptibility (10,28). Exposure monitoring study equipment can be modified and designed so it is appropriately sized for children. Children differ from adults in their absorbed dose for a given external exposure level, resulting in responses that differ. Therefore, biomarker measurements are particularly important clinically for an accurate exposure assessment in children and should be incorporated into future study designs (10,28,42,56). 4. The risk characterization phase is the integration of the three phases previously described, hazard identification, dose-response assessment, and exposure assessment, into an estimation of the adverse effects likely to occur in a given population, including attendant uncertainties (9,13,76,81–82). When the risk to a child is different from that to an adult, the risk characterization should include those factors that differentiate the two. However, because of data gaps outlined in the previous phases, usually very little information pertaining to the risk to children is included in the final analysis. Thus, risk characterization often tends ignore children (3,10,41,82). This is clearly evident as classical risk assessment is designed to protect healthy male adults with a single chemical exposure. Children are exposed to numerous environmental hazards, often concurrently, in varying doses at different stages of their development (82). Future approaches for assessing risk need to expand to incorporate consideration of concurrent, multiple, and cumulative exposures that children frequently encounter (82). Desirable research advancements in risk assessment include: improved ability to extrapolate laboratory animal data to human risks; determination of the impact of the vulnerabilities of children on exposure dose (e.g., route, intensity, duration, and frequency) and risk outcomes; and integrated use of health and exposure data in methods that estimate the distribution of risk. Collectively, this information will provide insight into a particular compound’s toxicity and help characterize the pattern of illness induced by an agent in exposed children.

Measures of Neurobehavioral Dysfunction and Prognostic Indicators In children, neurotoxicity can manifest itself in a multitude of ways. A child can demonstrate impaired speech and language, attention problems, difficulties in learning, delayed acquisition of developmental milestones, and anti-social temperament (6,8,9,14,15). Chemical neurotoxicity may affect different neurobehavioral functions

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during the developmental phases from the neonatal period through adolescence. Neurodevelopmental toxicity may not always result in immediate impairments but may have a delayed appearance in manifestation of a particular function or skill (7,8,12,15). It may in fact take months or even years to detect the neurotoxic effect or outcome in a child exposed to a toxic agent in utero (22,23). The endpoints frequently used to test for developmental neurotoxicity in exposed children can be divided into two categories: apical and narrow-band tests (15,22,23). Examples of some apical tests are IQ and the Bayley Scales (Table 2). In apical testing, the patient must show successful performance on a variety of skills (22). Narrow-band tests tend to focus more on specific changes in neural development. Examples of these would be measurements of attention or memory. The selection of the appropriate outcome measure or test is critical in the context of developmental neurotoxicology studies. Because of age-related increases in the complexity of the developing nervous system and in functional capabilities, only a few tests that are appropriate for infants can be adminstered to older children as well. Consequently, very few infant tests are predictive of future development. Another problem in the clinical application of developmental neurotoxicology studies is the difficultly in accurately measuring all key potential confounders known to influence human cognition and development. These would include variables such as quality of the home environment, socioeconomic status, nutritional status, and parental IQ. The importance of these variables has been demonstrated in longitudinal prospective studies examining the association between environmental lead exposure and IQ (24,25). Many behavioral and cognitive assessment instruments are crude and inadequately validated in exposed children. The ability of a PEH clinician to use these tools to predict outcome and long term neurotoxic injury is limited. Most developmental evaluations utilize general intelligence as measured by IQ and/or cognitive ability assessments such as the Mental Developmental Index (MDI) of the Bayley Scales of Infant Development and Denver Developmental Screening Test (DDST) (26). These measures are crude when predicting if an insult has occurred specifically as a result of a previous exposure. There is also a poor correlation between the results of these types of evaluations, conducted in children less than 4 yr of age, and the results of evaluations conducted at older ages. An important research need is, therefore, the development of more sensitive, multidimensional neurobehavioral assessment tools that can account for age at the time of testing and which test specific neurobehavioral domains. Nevertheless, there has been significant progress in the last decade in developing validated methods for detecting neurotoxicity and expanding the depth of scientific knowledge. We need to expand the outcome measures used in assessing neurotoxicity endpoints to routinely include standardized neuropsychological tests, validated

Table 2

Selected Developmental and Psychological Tests for Children

Test Denver developmental screening test-revised Early intervention developmental profile Bayley scale of infant development Stanford–Binet intelligence test Wechsler preschool and primary scale of intelligence Wechsler intelligence scale for children–Revised

Age %5 2 mo to 3 yr !42 mo 2 yr to adulthood 3 yr 10 mo to 6 yr 7 mo 6 yr to 16 yr 11 mo

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Differences Between Children and Adults

Surface area: body mass ratio (m2/kg)a Respiratory ventilation rates Respiratory volume (mL/kg/breath)b Alveolar surface area (m2)c Respiration rate (breaths/min)d Respiratory minute ventilation ratee Drinking water (tap) Mean intake (mL/kg/day)f Fruit consumption (g/kg/day)g Citrus fruits Other fruits (including apples)h

Infants

Children

Teens

Adults

0.067 Infant 10 3 40 133 !1 yr 43.5 !1 yr 1.9 12.9

0.047 – – – – – 1–10 yr 35.5 3–5 yr 2.6 5.8

0.033 – – – – – 11–19 yr 18.2 12–19 yr 1.1 1.1

0.025 Adult 2 10 75 2 20–64 yr 19.9 40–69 yr 0.9 1.3

a

Square meters per kilogram. Milliliters per kilogram per breath. c Per square meter. d Breaths per minute. e Milliliters per kilogram body weight per square meter lung surface area per minute. f Milliliters per kilogram per day. g Grams per kilogram per day. h Milligrams per day. Source: From Refs. 47–50. b

computer-assisted test batteries, neurophysiological and biochemical tests, and imaging (9). These methods can provide data that are useful, within the clinical setting, in identifying neurotoxicity in exposed children (Table 3).

CONCLUSION Learning, behavior, and developmental disabilities in children are clearly the result of complex interactions among chemical, genetic, and social-environmental factors that influence children during vulnerable periods of development. The amount of new information and the rate of new discoveries involving children’s health and the environment in the last decade have been staggering. The susceptibility of the developing child to environmental exposures has become a major concern of the public health community and the environmentally aware public. This increased awareness can act as a powerful link to drive research and policy change and development. Better coordination of local and global data collection on environmental exposures in children is needed in order to meet the research needs in children’s environmental health. The identification of patterns of environmental diseases in children; improvement in the assessment of children’s exposures to environmental toxicants; a clear determination of developmental periods of vulnerability; and a better quantification of dose-response relationships in children are all required in order to improve our understanding, as clinicians, of the relationship between environmental exposures, risk, and health outcomes in children. With adequate information, we can make informed decisions about chemical exposures during all stages of a child’s development and minimize the risk of environmentallyinduced illness in children (2,11,17,29–36,38,40,43,44,46,53,54,55,74,79).

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49. Silvaggio T, Mattison DR. Comparative approach to toxicokinetics. In: Paul M, ed. Occupational and Environmental Reproductive Hazards: A Guide for Clinicians. Baltimore: Williams and Wilkins, 1993. 50. Snodgrass WR. Physiological and biochemical differences between children and adults as determinants of toxic response to environmental pollutants. In: Guzelian PS, Henry CJ, Olin SS, eds. Similarities and differences between children and adults: implications for risk assessment. Washington, D.C.: ILSI Press, 1992. 51. Selevan S, Kimmel CA, Mendola P. Identifying critical windows of exposure for children’s health. Environ Health Perspect 2000; 108:451–455. 52. World Health Organization. Environmental Health Criteria 118: Inorganic Mercury. Geneva: World Health Organization, 1991. 53. Dargan PI, Jones AL, Bogle RG, House IM. The effects of DMSA on urinary lead and mercury excretion in healthy volunteers. J Toxicol Clin Toxicol 2001; 39:521. 54. Agency for Toxic Substances and Disease Registry. Toxicological Profile for Trichloroethylene. Atlanta, GA, 1997. 55. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Managing Elevated Blood Lead Levels Among Young Children: Recommendations from the Advisory Committee on Childhood Lead Poisoning Prevention. Atlanta: CDC, 2002. 56. Morford LL, Henck JW, Breslin WJ, DeSesso JM. Hazard identification and predictability of children’s health risk from animal data. Environ Health Perspect 2004; 112:266–271. 57. Centers for Disease Control. Surveillance for Asthma–United States, 1960–1995. Morb Mortal Wkly Rep 1998; 47:1–27. 58. DeVesa SS, Blot WJ, Stone BJ, Miller BA, Tarove RE, Fraumeni JF, Jr. Recent cancer trends in the United States. J Natl Cancer Inst 1995; 87:175–182. 59. Buxbaum L, Boyle C, Yeargin-Allsopp M, Murphy CC, Roberts HE. Etiology of mental retardation among children Ages 3–10: The Metropolitan Atlanta Developmental Disabilities Surveillance Program. Atlanta, GA: Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, 2000. 60. National Academy of Sciences Committee on Developmental Toxicology. Scientific Frontiers in Developmental Toxicology and Risk Assessment. Washington, D.C.: National Academy Press, 2000. 61. Swain WR. Effects of organochlorine chemicals on the reproductive outcome of humans who consumed contaminated Great Lakes fish: an epidemiologic consideration. J Toxicol Environ Health 1991; 33:587–636. 62. Rogan WJ, Gladen BC, Hung KL, et al. Congenital poisoning by polychlorinated biphenyls and their contaminants in Taiwan. Science 1988; 241:334–336. 63. Jacobson SW, Jacobson JL, Schwartz PM, Fein GG. Intrauterine exposure of human newborns to PCBs: measures of exposure. In: D’Itri FM, Kamrin M, eds. PCBs: Human and Environmental Hazards. Boston: Butterworth, 1983. 64. Marsh DO, Myers GJ, Clarkson TW, Amin-Zaki L, Tikriti S, Majeed MA. Dose-response relationship for human fetal exposure to methylmercury. Clin Toxicol 1981; 18:1311–1318. 65. Amin-Zaki L, Elhassani SB, Majeed MA, Clarkson TW, Doherty RA, Greenwood MR. Mercury poisoning in mothers and their suckling infants. In: Holmstedt B, Lauwerys R, Mercier M, Roberfroid M, eds. Mechanisms of Toxicity and Hazard Evaluation. Amsterdam: Elsevier, 1980. 66. Marsh DO. Dose-response relationships in humans: methylmercury epidemics in Japan and Iraq. In: Eccles CU, Annau Z, eds. The Toxicity of Methyl Mercury. Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1987. 67. Kreutzer, RA, et al. First National Research Conference on Children’s Environmental Health: Research, Practice, Prevention, Policy. Conference Report. 1997. Available online: http:// www.cehn.org/cehn/Resconfreport.html. 68. Yakushiji T. Contamination, clearance and transfer of PCB from human milk. Rev Environ Contam Toxicol 1988; 101:139–164.

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69. Li X, Weber LW, Rozman KK. Toxicokinetics of 2,3,7,8-tetrachlorodibenzo-p-dioxin in female Sprague-Dawley rats including placental and lactational transfer to fetuses and neonates. Fundam Appl Toxicol 1995; 27:70–76. 70. Schecter A, Papke O, Lis A, et al. Decrease in milk and blood dioxin levels over two years in a mother nursing twins: estimates of decreased maternal and increased infant dioxin body burden from nursing. Chemosphere 1996; 32:543–549. 71. Jacobson JL, Fein GG, Jacobson SW, Schwartz PM, Dowler JK. The transfer of polychlorinated biphenyls (PCBs) and polybrominated biphenyls (PBBs) across the human placenta and into maternal milk. Am J Public Health 1984; 74:378–379. 72. Schecter A, Pa¨pke O, Ball M. Evidence for transplacental transfer of dioxins from mother to fetus: chlorinated dioxin and dibenzofuran levels in livers of stillborn infants. Chemosphere 1990; 21:1017–1022. 73. Yakushiji T, Watanabe I, Kuwabara K, et al. Postnatal transfer of PCBs from exposed mothers to their babies: influence of breast- feeding. Arch Environ Health 1984; 39:368–375. 74. Renwick AG, Dorne JL, Walton K. An analysis of the need for an additional uncertainty factor for infants and children. Reg Toxicol Pharmacol 2000; 31:286–296. 75. Scheuplein R. Pesticides and infant risk. Is there a need for an additional safety margin. Regul Toxicol Pharmacol 2000; 31:267–279. 76. Charnley G, Putzrath RM. Children’s health, susceptibility, and regulatory approaches to reducing risks from chemical carcinogens. Environ Health Perspect 2001; 109:187–192. 77. National Research Council. Pesticides in the Diets of Infants and Children. Washington, D.C.: National Academy Press, 1993. 78. Crom WR. Pharmacokinetics in the child. Environ Health Perspect 1994; 102:111–118. 79. Daly AK, Fairbrother KS, Smart J. Recent advances in understanding the molecular basis of polymorphisms in genes encoding cytochrome P450 enzymes. Toxicol Lett 1998; 28:143–147. 80. Nakajima T, Aoyama T. Polymorphisms of drug-metabolizing enzymes in relation to individual susceptibility to industrial chemicals. Industrial Health 2000; 38:143–152. 81. National Research Council. Science and Judgment in Risk Assessment. Washington, D.C.: National Academy Press, 1994. 82. Behrman R. The Future of Children: Critical Issues for Children and Youths. Los Altos, CA: The David and Lucile Packard Foundation, 1995. 83. Done AK, Cohen SN, Strebel L. Pediatric clinical pharmacology and the “therapeutic orphan”. Ann Rev Pharmacol Toxicol 1977; 17:561–573.

24 Evaluating Neurotoxic Effects: Epidemiological, Epistemic, and Economic Issues Herbert L. Needleman Department of Psychiatry, School of Medicine, University of Pittsburgh, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, U.S.A.

INTRODUCTION When the effects of a toxicant are less obvious than death, assessment of its toxicity is guaranteed to be a contentious enterprise. The notion that toxins could produce important health outcomes short of fatality was slow to develop and only recently accepted. The discipline of toxicology, after all, began as an offspring of the widespread clandestine practice of poisoning one’s rivals. One of its more prominent exponents was Nero’s mother, Agrippina. It is only recently that toxicologists abandoned as the main metric of potency the LD50, the dose that killed half of one’s experimental animals. At about the same time, case reports of lethal exposures in humans became rare, and were replaced with epidemiological investigations of toxicity at doses below the fatal. Dioscerides, Nero’s physician and author of the Materia Medica, established himself as perhaps the first neurotoxicologist with his warning that “Lead makes the mind give way.” Neurotoxicology emerged in the 1960s as a legitimate field. This paralleled in time the rapid growth of environmental awareness and increasing skepticism about industrial chemicals. The thalidomide disaster of the late 1950s furnished an ironic background to Dupont’s grandiose promise, “Better Living through Chemistry.” In 1970 Richard Nixon founded the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) and inaugurated Earth Day. Neurotoxicology is a relatively young branch of the mother toxicology tree. Recognizing that the central nervous system was a vulnerable target for xenobiotics, and that the developing nervous system was a particularly susceptible target, came late into focus. The first meeting devoted to neurobehavioral toxicology was organized by Bernard Weiss and Victor Laties in 1975 (1). At the same time, the realization grew that thousands of untested chemicals were being inserted into our environment. Animal studies of methylmercury (2) and human studies of alcohol (3) were published during the same period that Earth Day was celebrated and the EPA was founded. Toxicologists rapidly learned the tools of experimental psychology, and sensitive measures of behavior were put to work studying toxicants. 499

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Lead, because it is the best-studied toxicant, offers useful examples of methodological and other problems that could be encountered in the study of other agents. I offer some observations gleaned from lead toxicology for examination.

THE GROWTH OF UNDERSTANDING OF CHILDHOOD LEAD TOXICITY One hundred years ago, the first published reports of lead poisoning in children in Brisbane Australia were greeted with disdain and frank skepticism. The orthodox view at that time was that lead poisoning afflicted only workers or imbibers of adulterated wine. The lethal threat of lead to children was generally accepted at the turn of the 19th century. After this, it was generally believed that childhood lead poisoning had only two outcomes: death or complete recovery without residua. Randolph Byers challenged this dogma in 1943 with the first demonstration of learning and behavior problems in children who survived acute illness (4). The long-term consequences of acute lead toxicity were accepted, but the prevailing belief was that sequelae were found only in those children who had displayed signs of acute encephalopathy. In the late 1970s and 1980s the deleterious impact of lead in children in the absence of overt toxic symptoms was convincingly demonstrated (5). We may expect other toxicants to follow similar paths of discovery, and the reality of low-dose asymptomatic effects to encounter similar incredulity. Causal associations between toxicants and neurobehavioral dysfunction will predictably be challenged by skeptics.

THE CONUNDRUM OF CAUSALITY The central task of science is to develop a trustworthy picture of nature in order to enable dependable predictions, and in the case of the health sciences, effective remedies. To accomplish this practical mission requires the separation of causal from random or spurious associations. This is difficult work, and in the area of environmental toxicants, the task is often vexed by external influences, only some of which are scientific. Some are long held social myths, some are methodological predispositions, and some are cynical arguments spawned by vested interests. A large segment of the scientific community believes that the pursuit of their craft isolates them from external influences, and that their work is neutral. This is naive. Social and economic factors, often operating out of awareness, thoroughly influence the conduct of research, the nature of problems selected, the tools employed, and the conclusions drawn. In evaluating associations between toxicants and toxic effects, two types of errors are encountered: errors of the first kind (a or false positive errors), and of the second kind (b or false negative errors). Science has traditionally endowed Type I error avoidance with prestige, considering it as evidence of scientific rigor. Avoiding Type II errors is granted considerably less credit. This dissociation can be readily seen in the table below which shows the ratio of b (Type II) to a (Type I) errors at frequently encountered sample sizes (Table 1). It is indisputable that spurious causal associations should be carefully guarded against. In the area of public health, however, where exposures may affect large numbers, the costs of missed subtle associations are particularly serious and important to avoid. In practice, at subject and effect sizes frequently employed, the demonstrated ratio of b to

Evaluating Neurotoxic Effects Table 1 Number of subjects 50 80 100 200

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Ratio of b to a Errors at Commonly Employed Sample and Effect Sizes Effect size, selected a risk RZ0.10, aZ0.05 18 17 17 16

RZ0.10, aZ0.01 97 96 94 88

RZ0.3, aZ0.05 9 4 3 0.2

RZ0.3, aZ0.01 67 44 61 31

a error is extraordinarily high; science has a large tolerance for b errors. Only at relatively large effect and sample sizes are the two error types in the same range. The Illusion of Causal Proof The demand for proof of a causal association, in this case, between lead and behavioral deficit, has been a potent impediment, often cynically employed, to informed standard setting. Defining causality is itself no simple matter. The English mathematician, philosopher, and gymnast William Kingdom Clifford wrote, in 1872, that “The word represented by ‘Cause’ has sixty-four meanings in Plato and forty-eight in Aristotle.” Science has to a large extent moved past the search for single causes, and acknowledges that in our work we attempt to tease out the constellation of necessary and sufficient factors to reliably predict the effect under study. David Hume’s assertion that causality is a relationship between mental as opposed to physical events established the impossibility of achieving causal proof. Ernst Cassirer went further: We must think of causality as a guide-line which leads us from cognition to cognition and thus only indirectly from event to event, a proposition which allows us to reduce individual statements to general and universal ones and to represent the former by the latter. Understood in this sense, every genuine causal proposition, every natural law, contains not so much a prediction of future events as a promise of future cognitions.

Despite the caution that cognitions or mental events are not available to empirical proof, industrial interests regularly attempt to exploit this limitation by demanding proof of causality before setting regulatory standards. Among the industrial arguments used to challenge epidemiological studies of lead and cognitive function are these:

† Causality operates in the other direction, that is, elevated body burdens of lead are due to preexistent cognitive deficit. This is a disingenuous extrapolation from the finding that mentally retarded children frequently mouth nonfood substances. Proponents of this solecism ignore the fact that most published studies examined children who are not retarded, that forward studies of children whose blood lead levels were measured at birth showed a dose-dependent decrease in cognition, and that experimental studies of primates given lead at controlled doses showed impaired cognition † Because control of confounders is incomplete, the causal assertions reported are spurious. Confounder control will always be incomplete. Multivariate space is infinite, but subject numbers are limited. It is always possible to nominate an additional variate. In order to qualify as a confounder, a covariate is required to be correlated with lead and to affect development. Behavioral scientists know a great deal about the factors that influence child development, and many studies,

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CUMULATIVE FREQUENCY DISTRIBUTION (%)

using different covariate models, find similar associations between lead and outcome. It is unlikely that any important covariate has been overlooked. † Treating the criterion of P!0.05 as a sacrament. RA Fisher is credited with establishing this criterion. In 1925, Fisher wrote, indicating the cutoff of 0.05, (i) “It is convenient to take this point as limit in judging whether a deviation is to be considered significant or not. Deviations exceeding twice the standard deviation are thus formally regarded as significant (6)”. (ii) P!0.05 is a convenient convention, not a universal truth. Jerome Cornfeld, attempting to explain this arbitrary number, wrote that Fisher’s publisher allowed him to reprint only two lines from his table of P-values: 0.05 and 0.01. Despite the slow slide of P-values into statistical desuetude, this issue continues to be raised to disparage reports of toxic associations, and dismiss studies with P-values greater than 0.05 as evidence for no effect. † The effects demonstrated are small, and therefore of no biological consequence. This is disingenuous. Critics of the lead/cognition hypothesis have criticized the decrement of 4–6 points in exposed subjects as trivial. Figure 1, taken from actual data, shows that a shift in median IQ of four points is associated with a 400% increase in the rate of children with severe deficit (IQ!80), and that shifting the curve to the right prevents 5% of the population from achieving superior function (IQO125). † Errors in measurement result in erroneous causal conclusions. This is a commonly applied argument. All phenomena are measured with some error, but all measurement error does not yield false positive judgments. For a measurement error to produce a Type I error, it must be nonrandom and nonsystematic. Random and nonsystematic errors are null biasing; they increase the Type II risk. Most errors in epidemiological studies, because they are random and nonsystematic, tend to increase Type II risk. They diminish the reported effect size. 100 90

High Lead Low Lead

80 70 60 50 40 30 20 10 50

Figure 1

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80 90 100 110 120 130 140 VERBAL IQ

IQ scores in children with high and low lead levels: the cumulative frequency.

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† Arguments that not all studies have found a statistically significant effect; therefore, no conclusion can be drawn. Most, but not all of the modern studies have shown a statistically significant association between lead and IQ. Counting votes or balloting as an approach to pooling studies is inferior thinking; it severely degrades the data. If 10 studies of lead and IQ were done, and four reported an effect at P!0.05, while six reported non-significant findings, many would interpret this constellation as arguing to no effect. The actual probability of such an outcome, under the null hypothesis is PZ0.006. All meta-analyses have found a robust effect of lead on IQ (7–9). The arguments summarized above, employed repeatedly by the lead industry in one form or another, explain to a considerable extent why, after tetraethyl lead (TEL) was introduced and workers began to die, it required 60 years to ban it from gasoline (10). Similar arguments are employed in opposition to the regulation of pesticides, and in discussions of global warming. They can be expected to find employment, with some modifications, in the adjudication of other environmental questions. A sophisticated and sensible response to the question of causal judgment can be found in the well-known contribution of Bradford Hill. AB Hill and Causal Inference In 1966, recognizing the difficulties in seeking causal proof, Sir Austin Bradford Hill recommended 9 factors to be taken into consideration in evaluating the causal status of observed associations. Hill’s own estimate of the role of his list is quite modest: “What aspects of that association should we especially consider before deciding that the most likely interpretation of it is causation?” Despite this modest advice, his guidelines have achieved canonical status, and over time have been widely used and uncritically swallowed whole. Hill’s Criteria

† Strength of association. The stronger the association, the more attractive is

† † † † † † † † †

a causal interpretation. Hill then qualifies this: “We must not be too ready to dismiss a cause and effect hypothesis on the grounds that the observed association appears to be slight.” Consistency. Has the association been observed by different persons, in different circumstances, and times? Specificity. “We must not, however, over-emphasize the importance of the characteristic.diseases may have more than one cause.” Time precedence. The cause must precede the effect. Biological gradient. The dose-response effect Plausibility. “It will be helpful if the causation we suspect is biologically plausible. But this is a feature I am convinced we cannot demand.” Coherence. “ [T]he cause and effect interpretation should not seriously conflict with the generally known facts of the natural history and biology of the disease.” Experiment. “For example: . some preventive action is taken. Does it in fact prevent?” Analogy. This is the weakest category: arguing from similar agents producing similar effects Surprisingly, Hill’s paper does not deal with the question of confounders. The

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criterion of non-spuriousness is central. Have the important confounders been identified and controlled by design or statistical analysis? What is the impact of adjustment on effect size? Hill is at pains to deprecate the utility of significance tests: “No formal tests of significance can answer these questions. Such tests can, and should, remind us of the effects that the play of chance can create, and they will instruct us in the likely magnitude of those effects. Beyond that they contribute nothing to the “proof” of our hypothesis.”

SCIENCE, UNIVERSITIES, AND THE MARKET PLACE There are other influences that inhibit the untrammeled conduct of science. Robert Merton defined the fundamental values of science as universalism, communalism, disinterestedness, and organized skepticism. Universalism means that the assertions of science are separated from national or cultural influences. Communalism refers to the free and unhindered sharing of data and understanding. Disinterestedness means that the enterprise of science goes forward without consideration of personal or external values. Merton’s portrait of science is an idyllic vision of a community of scholars, speaking freely, sharing ideas, sheltered from external pressures and interests. It is this pastoral vision that has attracted many to the academic life. Realizing this vision has been severely tampered with until it now exists only in nostalgia (11). A university has multiple personalities (12). In its classical mode, the university’s function is the pursuit of knowledge for its intrinsic value. The Baconian ideal seeks knowledge in the service of society: the development of new products and efficiencies in production. The military mode focuses on the development of knowledge to serve the national defense. The fourth model portrays the university in the service of public needs. Each of these models has its own priorities, its own ethos, and often is in contest with the others for prestige, space, and budget. The increased emphasis on the use of the university to meet national needs of production was the casis belli of the student uprising at Berkeley in the 1960s. The transformation of American research universities from sheltered places for seekers of knowledge for its own sake to exemplars of the Baconian ideal has taken place in lock-step with the decline of federal support of research. As federal dollars became scarce, commercial interests were quick to fill the gap. In 1980, the government, concerned about productivity and competition from other countries, passed the Bayh-Dole Act, permitting universities to patent the fruits of federally funded research. The interlocking of universities and corporations tightened, and many faculty members became entrepreneurs. The communal nature of science withered as investigators were barred from free publication of their work, from sharing biological specimens, and from discussing their results with others. The market place had embraced the university. And vice versa. This single act has permanently altered the structure and function of universities, and warped the goals and ethos of many academic scientists. It is now possible for a scientist in his laboratory to visualize becoming wealthy. There are many doleful examples of the altered ethos in which biomedical research is conducted; it is enough to remember that after he successfully produced and tested the killed polio vaccine in 1954, Jonas Salk refused to patent his discovery. An instructive exercise would be to imagine this occurring a half century later.

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Sheldon Krimsky, a scholar of the issue of the impacts of corporate influence on science and scientists, surveyed 800 biotechnology faculty in 1992 and found that 47% consulted with industry, 25% received industry–supported grants or contracts, and 8% held equity in a company whose products were related to their research. There is no place for Merton’s criterion of disinterestedness in this environment. Does a relationship with industry distort scientific judgment? Does it result in biased conclusions? A recent meta-analysis surveyed 37 publications dealing with support and outcome and found a statistically significant relationship between industrial sponsorship and pro-industry conclusions (13). Stelfox and colleagues examined 70 articles dealing with the safety of calcium channel blockers. Ninety-six percentage of the authors who supported the safety of the agents had financial relationships with manufacturers of the drugs. Only 37% of those authors who expressed critical beliefs had an industrial association (14). Accepting commercial support affects not only the conclusions drawn; it colors the quality of reporting. A recent survey of clinical trial agreements between medical schools and industry sponsors found that industry–supported institutions routinely fail to meet the guidelines issued by the International Committee of Medical Journals for study design, access to data, and control over publication (15). The history of regulating lead in gasoline further illuminates these findings. In 1925 when TEL was first manufactured, workers at all three plants became psychotic, and many died terribly in acute mania. A moratorium was called on its manufacture. The Surgeon General convened a meeting of academic and industry scientists to discuss the best action. Medical scientists from Harvard, Yale, and Columbia warned of the severe consequences of producing and distributing this toxin. They seemed to be prevailing until a corporate officer from Standard Oil declared that this compound was “a gift from God,” needed to nourish our industrial competitiveness. Prominent on behalf of the lead industry was Robert Kehoe, a pathologist from Cincinnati, whom General Motors hired to study the stricken workers at the Dayton, Ohio, TEL plant. Kehoe claimed that TEL was purely an industrial hazard; it could be safely controlled by the proper hygiene, and presented no threat to the general public. Ethyl Corporation and General Motors conveyed its gratitude by underwriting an institute at the University of Cincinnati, making Kehoe director, and naming it after him. Kehoe claimed that he knew more about the subject than anyone else. From the 1920s until the 1970s he was practically the only investigator receiving financial support to study lead. In the 1970s the National Institute of Environmental Health Sciences began to fund independent investigators of the question. The evidence of the true toxicity of lead grew and became generally understood by the scientific community. When the study of lead turned to effects at low, clinically silent doses, the industry, through its trade organization, the International Lead Zinc Organization, recognized this as a severe threat to the production of lead in gasoline. The EPA moved to set an air lead standard as a prelude to regulating lead in gasoline. After strenuous debate, during which three separate drafts of the Air Lead Criteria Document were written, the EPA accepted the reality of toxicity at low dose. The final document resulted in lowering the acceptable air lead concentration to 1.5 mg/m3. When the second Criteria Document was drafted in 1982, a small number of industry–affiliated investigators challenged the toxicity of lead at low dose (16). A review of the reports of this question disclosed that practically all of the publications that found no harmful effect at these low concentrations were written by the beneficiaries of industry support. Interestingly, a close scrutiny of these papers reveals that their own data supported the toxicity of lead at these low doses (17,18). The spokesmen for the International Lead Zinc Organization and Ethyl Corporation loudly and repeatedly pronounced that no one had ever been sickened by lead in the air,

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and that removing it from gasoline would have no impact on the body lead burden of adults and children. After a 20-yr struggle, in which most of the issues touched on in this paper were confronted, lead was removed from gasoline (19). The mean national blood lead level, which was 15 mg/dL in 1975, is now !2 mg/dL. The monetized benefit for this lowering of blood lead levels for a one-year cohort of American children has been estimated to be between $119 billion and $ 318 billion (20). SUMMARY Mammals have populated the planet for 250 million years. Over this time those who were able to develop adaptive mechanisms to protect them from “natural” toxins in their environment were favored by natural selection. In contrast, most neurotoxicants are manmade. Their history extends back less than 100 yr, and we possess few adaptive mechanisms to deal with them. If a man-made agent is biologically active, it is bound to be toxic at some dose. The toxic metals are exceptions: they are as old as the planet, but their natural concentrations are at the trace level. Human activity has concentrated them in the biosphere. Patterson has shown that modern man has 1000 times the lead in his body as our pretechnological ancestors (21). Measurement error in studies is unavoidable. It is an ingredient in experimental studies, but is especially potent in epidemiological studies. Because in the great majority of studies the errors are random (neither systematically greater or less) and nonsystematic (not increased systematically in exposed or unexposed subjects), they tend to bias results towards the null and reduce the measured effect size. The application of more sensitive and rigorous measures of exposure and performance, the use of larger samples, and better multivariate techniques have enabled investigators to discern effects at lower body burdens of lead. Equally important, with the removal of lead from gasoline, blood lead levels declined drastically. It became possible to compare exposed subjects to referent groups with blood lead levels !2 mg/dL. Reports of lead effects on IQ associated with blood lead concentrations of 5 mg/dL or below were published (22,23,24). In these studies, the slope of the IQ/lead regression was steeper !7 mg/dL than above it. If a threshold for lead toxicity exists, it has not been demonstrated. Given the omnipresence of these new toxicants, and the categorical impossibility of achieving causal proof of their toxicity, what should be done? If society awaits causal proof of the toxicity of an agent, millions of people will have paid the price of exposure. In 1976 the mean blood lead level was 15.6, 5 mg/dL above the CDC definition of toxicity. Rational prevention resides in the tension between Type I and Type II risks. Type I risks have been called producer risks. If a safe agent is defined as toxic, production will be limited or ended, jobs will be lost, and profits reduced. Type II risks are consumer risks. If a dangerous agent is declared safe, the agent will be distributed, consumers will suffer, and people will be sickened. The nature of the regulatory decisions our society chooses under the governing uncertainties it faces will depend on our values and will ultimately define us as a civilization. REFERENCES 1. Weiss B, Laties V. Behavioral pharmacology: the current status. FASEB Monographs, Bethesda MD 1975. 2. Spyker J, Sparber S, Goldberg A. Subtle consequences of methylmercury exposure: behavioral deviations in offspring of treated mothers. Science 1972; 177:621–623.

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3. Jones K, Smith D, Ulleland C, Streissguth A. Patterns of malformation in offspring of chronic alcoholic mothers. Lancet 1973; 1:1267–1272. 4. Byers RK, Lord EE. Late effects of lead poisoning on mental development. Am J Dis Child 1943; 66:471–483. 5. National Research Council. Measuring Lead Exposure in Infants, Children, and Other Sensitive Populations Washington D.C. Washington: National Academy of Sciences Press, 1993. 6. Fisher RA. Statistical Methods for Research Workers. Edinburgh: Oliver & Boyd, 1925. 7. Schwartz J. Low-level lead exposure and children’s IQ: a meta-analysis and search for a threshold. Environ Res 1994; 65:42–55. 8. Needleman HL, Gatsonis C. Low level lead exposure and the IQ of children. JAMA 1990; 263:673–678. 9. Pocock SJ, Smith M, Baghurst P. Environmental lead and children’s intelligence: a systematic review of the epidemiological evidence. BMJ 1994; 309:11197–11898. 10. Needleman HL. Clamped in a straitjacket: the insertion of lead into gasoline. Environ Res 1997; 74:95–103. 11. Washburn J. The kept university. The Atlantic Mon 2000; March. 12. Krimsky S. Science and the Private Interest. Lanham, MD: Rowman-Littlefield Publishing Co, 2003. 13. Bekelman J, Li Y, Gross C. Scope and impact of financial conflicts of interest in biomedical research. JAMA 2003; 289:454–465. 14. Stelfox H, Chua G, O’Rourke G, Detsky A. Conflict of interest in the debate over calcium antagonists. N Engl J Med 1998; 338:101–106. 15. Shulman K, Seils D, Timbie JW, et al. A national survey of provisions in clinical-trial agreements between medical schools and industry sponsors. N Engl J Med 2002; 347:1335–1341. 16. United States Environmental Protection Agency. Air Quality Criteria for Lead. Environmental Criteria and Assessment Office, EPA 600/8/-83-028A. 17. Ernhart CB, Landa B, Schell NB. Subclinical levels of lead and developmental deficit A multivariate followup reassessment. Pediatrics 1981; 67:911–919. 18. Smith M, Delves T, Lansdown R, Clayton B, Graham P. The effects of lead exposure on urban children: The Institute of Child Health: Southampton Study. Dev Med Child Neurol 1983; 25:1–54. 19. Needleman HL. The removal of lead from gasoline: historical and personal reflections. Environ Res 2000; 84:20–35. 20. Grosse SD, Matte TD, Schwartz J, Jackson RJ. Economic gains resulting from the reduction in children’s exposure to lead in the United States. Environ Health Perspect 2002; 110:563–569. 21. Patterson CC. Contaminated and natural environments of man. Arch Environ Health 1965; 11:344–360. 22. Canfield RL, Henderson CR, Cory-Slechta DA, Cox C, Jusko TA, Lanphear BP. Intellectual impairment in children with blood lead concentrations below 10 micrograms per deciliter. N Engl J Med 2003; 348:1517–1526. 23. Lanphear BP, Dietrich KN, Auinger P, Cox C. Cognitive deficits associated with blood lead concentrations !10 (g/dL in U.S. children and adolescents. Publ Health Rep 2000; 111:521–529. 24. Bellinger DC, Needleman HL. Intellectual impairment and blood lead levels. N Engl J Med 2003;349–500.

25 Knowledge, Norms, and the Politics of Risk: Ethical Issues in Policy-Relevant Science Virginia Ashby Sharpe Center for Clinical Bioethics, Georgetown University Medical Center, Washington, D.C., U.S.A.

I know of no safe depository of the ultimate powers of the society but the people themselves; and if we think them not enlightened enough to exercise their control with a wholesome discretion, the remedy is not to take it from them, but to inform their discretion. —Thomas Jefferson, 1720

INTRODUCTION In the 1970s, the American medical profession was confronted with the fact that the internal norms that had guided its practice for centuries were ill-suited to the demands of participatory democracy. As is well-documented in texts on the emergence of the contemporary field of bioethics (1,2), the medical professions’ paternalistic attitude regarding what was best for patients in terms of both the information and the interventions they received began to be supplanted in the 1960s and 1970s by the call for the medical profession to be accountable to democratic norms of self-determination, transparency, and justice. This demand reflected the broader calls for democratic reform that defined the era: civil rights for African–Americans, women, and others who were marginalized in American society; more open and democratic practices by government agencies charged with protecting public health and the environment; and international recognition of the need for regulations governing the use of humans in medical experimentation. In 1948, in response to the war crimes tribunals against Nazi doctors, the Nuremberg Code articulated as its first principle that “the voluntary consent of the human subject is absolutely essential” (3). It took decades before the U.S. codified this principle into law—decades during which egregious violations of the principle were exposed in the Tuskegee experiments and a host of other research on vulnerable groups such as the terminally ill, retarded children, the poor, the institutionalized elderly, and military recruits. By the late 1970s a national commission on the protection of human research subjects had articulated 509

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the ethical principles that would be formalized in regulations governing the growing enterprise of federally-funded research. These principles were manifested in the requirements of informed consent, the justifiability of research risks, and fairness in the selection of subjects. The demand for physicians—whether they were engaged in clinical practice or in research—to be accountable to public norms established outside the canons of professional practice represented a paradigm shift in both the ethics and the politics of medicine. There is a comparable shift occurring today as scientists—particularly in fields such as ecology, epidemiology, and toxicology—serve as a resource for policy making on such high-stakes issues as global climate change, endocrine disruption, and agricultural biotechnology. In this chapter, I offer an analysis of this shift with particular attention to toxicology and epidemiology. I draw on the distinction between normal and post-normal science to examine the ethical challenges that confront scientists individually and collectively when their work is relevant to the policy or regulatory setting. I argue that the uncertain and contested character of knowledge, as well as the growing significance of risk characterization, together emphasize the need for norms of transparency and access to participation in science-based decision making. I discuss the problem of conflicts of interest in science—particularly as regulated industries play an increasing and documented role in manufacturing scientific uncertainty and shaping science to serve specific corporate interests. Finally, I discuss “community-based research” and the particular ethical complexities that confront this model of inquiry. My perspective on these issues is shaped by fifteen years of work on ethical issues in biomedical and environmental science and two years as director of the Center for Science in the Public Interest’s project on Integrity in Science, which examines the role of industry in scientific research and sciencebased policy.

THE NORMATIVE CONTEXT OF POLICY-RELEVANT SCIENCE Normal Science and the Norms of Governing Science In The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, Thomas Kuhn (4) coined the phrase “normal science” to refer to the activities of scientists engaged in puzzle-solving to ensure the steady accumulation of relatively stable and certain facts within the context of established methods. The “normal science” view of responsible scientific conduct was probably best captured in Robert Merton’s 1942 essay “The Normative Structure of Science” (5) where he described a set of four principles governing scientific practice: (1) universalism, (2) commun[al]ism, (3) disinterestedness, and (4) organized skepticism. Universalism ensures that scientific claims are evaluated on the basis of established and impersonal criteria without regard to the attributes of the scientist. Commun[al]ism is the norm of cooperation, collaboration, and openness in the conduct of research and the nonproprietary nature of scientific findings. Disinterestedness is the pursuit of science subject to scrutiny and policing by one’s expert peers. Organized skepticism is an intellectual commitment to critical examination of all claims and the suspension of judgment until knowledge has been certified. This conception of science as objective, disinterested, and value-free is the basis of scientific positivism and has had remarkable staying power, providing the justification—often explicit—for deference to scientists and reliance on scientific expertise as an independent source of information about objective reality. This view has been reinforced by the many scientific triumphs that have provided the basis for advances, for example, in medicine, transportation, sanitation, and agriculture.

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Over the last 75 years there have been three strong and related challenges to the view of science as objective and disinterested: (1) the view of science as a social construction; (2) the view that science is insufficient as a basis for complex decision making; and (3) the view that science is a servant yoked to particular social projects. These challenges to the ideal of scientific isolationism give rise to new ethical demands as science is used to further the aims of democratic society. Science as a Social Construction The most significant challenge to the ideal of scientific objectivity has been the analysis by sociologists and philosophers of science of the production of scientific knowledge. Kuhn’s own analysis of scientific revolutions, for example, showed that theories are retained well beyond their explanatory capacities simply because they conform to the prevailing paradigm. Others, including Mary Douglas (6,7), Sandra Harding (8), Ulrich Beck (9), and Helen Longino (10), have illustrated that assumptions about what problems are worth addressing, which experimental endpoints will be selected for study, what populations will be sampled, what effects will be considered significant, and what “confidence level” will legitimate a statistical test all reflect values on which methodologies, research programs, scientific disciplines, and grant-making, in short, the scientific enterprise, is literally constructed. As Sandra Harding observed in her book Whose Science, Whose Knowledge?, political and social interests are not “add-ons” to an otherwise transcendent, value-neutral science: “Scientific beliefs, practices, institutions, histories and problems are constituted in and through.political and social projects and always have been” (8). The view of science as a social construction has been controversial in part because it opens all scientific claims to the charge of relativism. If science is “simply” a social construction, guided by various political interests and cultural biases, the thinking goes, then scientific knowledge loses its credibility and integrity as an authoritative basis for decision making. Science is Insufficient as a Basis for Complex Decision Making Less controversial than the strong claim that science is socially constructed is the view that even the best science is inadequate to the task of complex decision making—either in policy setting or for individuals. Scientific information by itself imposes no imperatives. It is not an end in itself, nor does it dictate the goals we should pursue. Rather, it is the means to ends that are decided with but not by science. In other words, science is a resource for technical information only, and the uses of that information are determined on the basis of a host of social, economic, and cultural values. For example, even though it has been well established that lead is a neurotoxin in children, human exposures to lead are allowed to persist in municipal water supplies, housing stocks, and until 1996 in lead-based gasoline. It is, in part, economic values, political inequalities, and conventional wisdom about exposures that have produced this set of circumstances even in the face of scientific consensus regarding lead’s adverse effects. For example, lead-based paint is prevalent in many older inner city apartments where poor people live. They have little economic and political power. Regulation and clean-up enforcement requires that elected government officials with limited financial resources confront land and apartment owners, who may or may not have the economic means or incentives to take corrective action. Likewise, conventional wisdom is that lead concentrations in municipal water supplies are typically very low, with most of the lead entering water as a result of plumbing configurations in individual houses. However, as the recent revelations about lead in the District of Columbia water supply indicate, that municipality decided, as a cost-saving measure, to

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introduce chloramine into the water supply even though that chemical was known to leach lead out of pipes. Scientific evidence was in these cases an inadequate mandate for comprehensive change. The pressure to acknowledge the limits of science as a basis for decision making has been exerted perhaps most forcefully in the fields of medicine and clinical research, where the impact of science on individual human beings is so direct and apparent. As mentioned above, when the harms associated with clinical research and increasingly invasive technological treatments began to show up after World War II, the public demanded the imposition of new norms; these norms shifted authority for risk decisions from exclusive control by clinicians and scientists to greater control by those individuals bearing the risk. Science as Servant The ideal of normal science as independent inquiry motivated by disinterestedness and methodological skepticism has long provided the justification for science and scientists to be self-regulating. As the application of science in medical decision making and clinical research revealed, self-regulation failed to accommodate democratic norms of respect for the decision-making authority of patients and research subjects who bear the risk of scientific interventions. Many physicians and other scientists who adhere to the paradigm of professional self-regulation have resisted the imposition of other forms of accountability on their work. The motivations for resistance are often complex involving economic self-interest, the protection of the health and welfare of individuals and the public, and the preservation of independent science from political manipulation. Perhaps the most acute concern is that scientific professionals and thus science itself will become captive to interests that are hostile to the mission of science to further the bounds of certified knowledge. The problem, of course, is that the mission of science is itself contested and fundamentally shaped by the political and social projects which science is called to serve (11). In 1980, for example, when the passage of the Bayh–Dole Act allowed federally-funded researchers to obtain commercial patents and licenses for publiclyfunded research, the explicit rationale for the Act was “to promote free competition and enterprise” by facilitating the commercialization of science (12). Echoing this shift, a recent report on Integrity in Scientific Research by the National Academy of Sciences omitted the traditional norms of disinterestedness and collaboration in its criteria for scientific integrity, stating that researchers must “balance collaboration and collegiality with competition and secrecy” (13). Growing criticism of the commercialization of science (14–17) is evidence of an ongoing struggle precisely about the mission(s) of science and the norms that should govern it. Among other things, this struggle lends support to the strong view that the practice, the norms, and the claims of science are constructed on the basis of cultural, social, and ideological commitments. Norms and Post Normal Science When we consider ethical norms that should govern the conduct of science, we can’t assume that science functions in a vacuum and is therefore sufficient to oversee itself. Nor can we assume that the norms that have traditionally governed science are satisfactory to confront the complex social issues that confront us in the 21st century. Indeed, we have to assume that those norms have in some measure brought us to the crisis where we are now. As sociologist Ulrich Beck has observed, we now live in a “risk society” which has resulted in large part from the impact of science and technology on our world bringing

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Decision Stakes

with it a host of toxic threats. Because risk assessments always involve normative judgments about the scope, nature, magnitude, scale, probability, and acceptability of harms, science has become both more necessary and less sufficient as a basis for social decision making (9). In contrast to the problems of normal science—problems and methods believed to be internal to scientific disciplines—the problems we face today have been described as problems of “post-normal science.” Funtowicz and Ravetz (Fig. 1) offer a functional account of science relative to the decision stakes and the degree of complexity involved. In normal science, where scientific expertise is (rightly or wrongly) regarded as fully sufficient to address fairly insular puzzle-solving, the decision stakes are low and the objects under consideration are deliberately simplified. In consultant science such as clinical research or practice, decision making has moved outside the stable, controlled conditions of a laboratory experiment, the stakes are higher, and decisions involve greater complexity and uncertainty. In post-normal science, Funtowicz and Ravetz explain, “facts are uncertain, values in dispute, stakes high, and decisions urgent” (18,20). In environmental policy making, for example, say Funtowicz and Ravetz, where the mass of details requires separate analysis and management relative to broad strategic goals such as “sustainability,” “nothing can be managed in a convenient isolation; issues are mutually implicated; problems extend across many scale levels of space and time; and uncertainties and value-loadings of all sorts and all degrees of severity affect data and theories alike.” Under these circumstances, they argue, “the traditional guiding principle of research science, the goal of achievement of truth or at least of factual knowledge, must be substantially modified. In post-normal conditions, such products may be a luxury, indeed an irrelevance. Here, the guiding principle is a more robust one, that of quality” (21). For Funtowicz and Ravetz, quality-control of policy-relevant science is embodied in what they call “extended peer communities,” an idea that moves beyond professional peer review to a more public and democratic process of problem-solving. As Ravetz describes it, the model of extended peer communities “extends the franchise” (20) of policy-relevant knowledge. This call for increased public participation in science-based policy and regulation echoes an earlier and forceful argument made by David Bazelon, Chief Judge of Court of Appeals for the D.C. Circuit. In a 1979 Science article on “Risk and Responsibility,” (22) Judge Bazelon, writing during the period of landmark legislation regarding openness in government (the Freedom of Information Act, the Federal Advisory Committee Act, the Open Meetings Law) observed that we are not only reluctant to delegate risk assessment to “so-called disinterested scientists.[but] the very concept of

Post-Normal Science Professional Consultancy Normal Science System Uncertainties

Figure 1

Three types of problem-solving strategies. Source: From Refs. 18, 19.

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objectivity embodied in the word ‘disinterested’ is now discredited. . Since we have no shaman we must have confidence in the decision-making process” (22). Similarly, in describing the ethical implications of “risk society” Ulrich Beck observes “there is no expert on risk. there are always competing and conflicting claims, interests and viewpoints of the various agents of modernity and affected groups” (9). As a result, risk determinations can “no longer be isolated from one another through specialization, and developed and set down according to their own standards of rationality. They require cooperation across the trenches of disciplines, citizen’s groups, factories, administration, and politics” (9). Transparency and increased mechanisms of participation are norms central to this process and are reflected, for example, in the emergence of citizen’s groups to address issues of toxic pollution and environmental justice and in a variety of federal and state mandates on public participation in agency decision making (23–27). Feminist philosopher of science, Sandra Harding, offers “strong objectivity” as a feature of research that is more inclusive and therefore more responsive to social justice. Strong objectivity, she says, extends “the notion of scientific research to include systematic examination of.powerful background beliefs” that for example, downplay the ways in which minorities are disproportionately exposed to the risks of environmental pollution (8). Research that meets the conditions of “strong objectivity” will begin from the perspective of marginalized and systematically oppressed groups, she says, because these groups provide evidence that is routinely silenced by more powerful parties hoping, thereby, to secure their own interests. The lead industry provides an example of research that fails to meet this norm: when the lead industry’s own research indicated lead’s neurotoxic effects on children, for example, it shifted its research focus exclusively to adults and continued to conceal its findings regarding children (28). By contrast, “community-based research,” such as that conducted by epidemiologist Steve Wing on the health effects of radiation release and concentrated hog production, begins with the health concerns of the affected community (29–32). Strong objectivity, says Harding, is at the methodological level a form of “intellectual participatory democracy” that will improve our understandings and explanations by counting as evidence the claims of local knowledge that are traditionally excluded from the elite notion of scientific rationality. The upshot of these insights is that neither scientific evidence alone nor the institution of science itself gives authority to research and decision making. In a democracy, that authority must come from the quality of the research and the decisionmaking processes themselves.

NEW MANDATES IN POLICY-RELEVANT SCIENCE The Environmental Endocrine Hypothesis as a New Scientific Paradigm The environmental endocrine hypothesis—that synthetic estrogens found in plastics, pesticides, and other chemicals disrupt the body’s ability to deliver hormones to the bloodstream—provides an illustration of the foregoing ideas with respect to the field of toxicology. The paradigm of the monotonic dose-response curve reflecting exposure to a single chemical—the ancient principle that the dose makes the poison—has resulted in a methodological focus on acute toxicity to the exclusion of long-term low dose exposures and synergies among multiple chemicals. Likewise, widespread fears about cancer risk have, over the last 50 years, elevated cancer as the most significant endpoint in the study of

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toxic chemicals. Until recently, this has caused scientists, institutions, funders, and policy makers to largely ignore the reproductive, neurophysiological, and behavioral effects of chemicals. In the early to mid-1990s, however, the growing evidence of endocrine disruption was deemed sufficient to prompt the passage of two landmark pieces of legislation: the Food Quality Protection Act (FQPA) (33) and the Safe Drinking Water Estrogenic Substances Screening Program Act to amend the Safe Drinking Water Act (34). Both statutes require, among other things, that the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) screen and test chemicals for endocrine-disrupting properties and to screen for estrogenic chemicals in food and source drinking water. One of the most significant features of the FQPA and a reason for its support by industry groups was its abandonment of the “zero-tolerance standard” for food additives in favor of a “negligible-risk standard.” As Sheldon Krimsky describes in his book, Hormonal Chaos, on the science and policy implications of the endocrine disrupter hypothesis, since the 1958 passage of the Food and Drug Amendments, the pesticide industry had been bound by the Amendment’s “Delaney clause” which “required zerotolerance for food additives that had been shown to be human or animal carcinogens at any dose” (35). In 1992 the Natural Resources Defense Council sued the EPA on the grounds that the Delaney Act should be applied also to pesticide residues since they are a type of food additive. The success of NRDC’s case would have meant the removal of many agricultural pesticides from the marketplace. The shift from the precautionary “zero-risk” to the less stringent “negligible-risk” strengthens the link between toxicology and policy making by introducing a wider margin of toxic effects into risk assessment. This book on Clinical and Developmental Neurotoxicology is a reflection of the need to confront the challenges posed by the nexus of toxicology (and other sciences) and policy not only around the environmental endocrine hypothesis but also around uncertainty and risk more generally. This chapter is an attempt to explain both the normative context of policy-relevant science and the norms that should govern it.

Ethical Issues in Post-Normal Science There are ample resources on the ethical conduct of scientific research with regard to humans and animals, and much of this is codified in federal regulations. Such issues concern the scientific justification for research (whether the projected benefits of research outweigh the potential harms), informed consent, maximizing benefit and minimizing harm to research subjects, the fair distribution of the benefits, and harms of research. In addition, codes of ethics have been issued by scientific societies to address questions internal to scientific practice such as the sharing of research materials, assignment of authorship credit, fabrication of data, etc. Such standards and guidelines are also disseminated in mandatory research ethics courses for federally-funded researchers. My focus in what follows will not be on these issues, but rather on a set of problems that become prominent in “post-normal science,” that is, regulatory and policy-relevant science where “facts are uncertain, values in dispute, stakes high, and decisions urgent.” I do this with specific reference to the role that corporate interests can play in the collection, characterization, and dissemination of data on risk, the conflicts of interest faced by scientists engaged with interest groups, and the role of community participation in research and policy making.

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CORPORATE CONSTRUCTION OF RISK AND CONFLICTS OF INTEREST The assessment, management, and communication of risk is a prominent feature of regulatory or policy-relevant science. Given what we know about the construction of scientific “facts,” it should come as no surprise that the interests of stakeholders play a significant role in shaping their construction of risk. For example, anti-regulatory industry groups tend to emphasize the resilience of risk-bearers, whereas public health groups emphasize primary prevention, that is, efforts to prevent risk exposure. As a result, in statistical calculations of risk, industry stakeholders are more tolerant of Type I errors, false negatives, that underestimate risk, whereas public health stakeholders are more tolerant of Type II errors, false positives that overestimate risk (35). The question of whether risk should be regulated often depends on public opinion and may at times be referred to the courts. Thus stakeholder groups attempt to construct risk to shape public opinion, policymaking, or the outcome of litigation (36). Most of the evidence on the deliberate manipulation of risk information comes from formerly confidential corporate documents revealed during litigation. The tobacco litigation is the most prominent example. Although there is no reason, in principle, to believe that other stakeholders, such as public health or environmental groups, do not use tactics to influence risk perception, such groups rarely have the financial resources or the institutional structures to do so at the level available to industry. As Bero has pointed out, “sponsoring, publishing and criticizing research are costly endeavors [and] corporate interest groups are more likely to have the resources to launch expensive, coordinated efforts. In contrast, public health groups, which tend to act independently, are less likely to gather these resources” (36). So when we think about the “extended peer communities” suggested by Funtowicz and Ravetz, or “stakeholder theory” in general as a framework for deliberative decision making, it is important to keep in mind that stakeholders have vastly different political and economic power. Documents revealed through legal discovery in cases against the manufacturers of tobacco, asbestos, and other hazardous substances reveal the variety of ways in which companies have borrowed the authority of science to create uncertainty about risk as a means of advancing their marketing, regulatory, and eventually defensive legal aims. The Council for Tobacco Research (CTR), for example, was established by the tobacco industry in 1954 after a scientist at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center reported evidence indicating the carcinogenicity of tobacco tars. The publicly stated aim of the CTR, which was managed through the public relations firm Hill and Knowlton, was to fund independent research that would examine “all phases of tobacco use and health,” stating that “we accept an interest in people’s health as a basic responsibility, paramount to every other consideration in our business” (38). Internal tobacco documents reveal a different story. After establishing the CTR, the tobacco industry soon created a Special Projects Division within its legal department. The purpose and effect of this strategy was to shield the scientific data produced by the Division behind attorney-client privilege, thus concealing any unwelcome data and hiding researchers ties to industry (38). The CTR also used its funding to secure compliance from scientists in the collection and interpretation of data. In 1968 the CTR signed an agreement with Mason Research in Worcester, MA, to evaluate “smoking machines” for animal inhalation studies. During the study, company lawyers came to the lab to ensure that only the most cancer-resistant rodents were used, and dictated other aspects of the study design. Although Mason researcher Miasnig Hagopian concedes that the industry was “directing the course of the

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study” to the point where its objectivity was compromised, he admits that he and other researchers “looked the other way” in the hopes of a renewed contract (38). Another contract with researcher Freddy Homberger at Bio-Research Institute in Cambridge, MA, produced a high cancer incidence in Syrian rats. Under the conditions of the research contract, Homberger was required to submit his manuscript to the company for review prior to publication. “They were quite open about [the fact that they changed our funding from a grant to a contract] so they could control publication,” said Homberger. Under pressure from CTR lawyers, who did not want anything in published studies to be called “cancer,” Dr. Homberger changed the wording in the final proofs from “cancer” to “microinvasive tumor.” He later admitted that the lawyer had told him that “he would never get a penny more” if the paper was published without the change. Homberger’s interpretation of the Syrian hamster data was later used by the industry in the Rose Cipollone lawsuit—the first products liability lawsuit against the tobacco industry. Using Homberger’s paper, an industry expert witness stated that smoking had produced nothing but “microinvasive” tumors in the hamsters (38). A recent and similar example from the pharmaceutical industry concerns drug maker Pfizer’s corporate damage control after a major study published in the Journal of the American Medical Association indicated that expensive calcium channel blockers and angiotensin-converting enzyme (ACE) inhibitors, such as Pfizer’s Cardura, to treat high blood pressure were no better, and in some cases, more risky than inexpensive diuretics. To blunt the results of the study and prevent information about the findings from reaching physicians, Pfizer got the American College of Cardiology to soften the wording of an “alert” urging doctors to “discontinue” use of Cardura. In the reissued alert the wording was changed from “discontinue” to “reassess.” Pfizer has contributed more than $500,000 a year to the College of Cardiology in recent years (39). There are many examples of this type of activity from tobacco, lead, asbestos, chemical, food, and pharmaceutical industry-sponsored science (28,40–50). In addition, the passage of the Bayh–Dole Act in 1980 and the economic potential of biotechnology have resulted in a host of new incentives for scientists to join forces with industry in entrepreneurial activities. As a result, attention to financial conflicts of interest has dramatically increased over the last five years with scientific and medical bodies issuing new statements and standards.

CONFLICT-OF-INTEREST DISCLOSURE AND THE RIGHT-TO-KNOW In a now classic analysis, Dennis Thompson has defined a conflict of interest as a condition under which professional judgment about one’s primary interest (e.g., the integrity of research) may be unduly influenced by a secondary interest (e.g., financial gain) (51). Although financial interests are not the only factors that can inappropriately influence judgment, and financial ties to industry are not the only monetary ties that can be biasing, such conflicts are recognized as a troubling feature of the commercialization of science. As such, researchers’ and research institution’s financial ties to industry have become the focus of institutional and regulatory efforts to bolster the trustworthiness of science. Prohibition and management are two means of regulating financial conflicts of interest. Proposals to adopt standards prohibiting financial conflicts of interest have been the most controversial and the most difficult to establish. For example, only 1 out of the 10 major medical research universities in the U.S. has a policy banning researchers from holding stock, stock options, or company positions related to their research (52). When the New England Journal of Medicine established a policy prohibiting editorial authors from

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having a financial stake in the matter on which they are commenting, there was strong criticism that the journal was engaging in censorship (53). Under the editorship of Jeffrey Drazen, who has himself received considerable research support from the pharmaceutical industry (54), the New England Journal of Medicine abandoned that restrictive policy in June, 2002, citing the difficulty of finding authors without industry ties. Because organizations, many of which have their own institutional conflicts of interest, have been reluctant to ban certain financial ties, management of conflicts has become the prevailing institutional response with disclosure of financial ties the principal conflict-management strategy. It should be obvious that disclosure alone cannot resolve a potentially biasing conflict-of-interest, but it is an essential first step in making transparent the financial circumstances under which research and its oversight takes place. That said, disclosure—as a necessary element of an open and transparent process—must be understood as disclosure to the public (in journals, on CVs, in public presentations, to advisory bodies, and the media) as opposed to disclosure or reporting to a closed, institutional oversight body. The American Association of Medical Colleges’ efforts to grapple with institutional conflicts of interest (55) and the General Accounting Office’s recommendations regarding the risks of such conflicts in human research (56) are an acknowledgement that oversight bodies themselves are doing an inadequate job of managing the potentially biasing financial affiliations of individual investigators because they also have significant conflicts of interest that compromise their ability to be watchdogs. As we have seen in the examples from tobacco industry-funded science, hope for continued funding can influence researchers in their characterization of findings, even if companies themselves do not explicitly require such control. Some of the pressure for such funding comes from academic institutions themselves, which may have their own financial stake in the outcome of faculty research. Because financial ties can shape how a scientist collects, characterizes, and disseminates data on risk, and how an interested institution oversees the conduct of research, disclosure of financial conflicts of interest has become a vital aspect of the public’s “right to know” and a hallmark of technically and ethically “good” science in the post-normal age (57). Beyond disclosure as a means of managing conflicts of interest, many professional bodies have also made it clear that in order to preserve the independence of research, investigators should not enter into agreements that cede control of research or its publication to sponsors. This is especially important in the academic setting, where there is still an expectation of free inquiry—an expectation that has been strategically used by industry to enhance the credibility of research findings. As more academic research institutions enter into research agreements with industry and facilitate entrepreneurial arrangements for their faculty, it becomes increasingly important to assure that contract and grant agreements are free from binding clauses that cede control of research. Likewise, in the service of transparency, university-sponsored research programs should make public all of the sources and amounts of funding that support research and researchers at their institutions. Conflict of interest in research and its oversight is only one among a host of issues made prominent by the high stakes of policy-relevant science. Sheldon Krimsky (35) has outlined an additional set of ethical issues that arise in this area. They concern (1) the release of uninterpreted data to individuals and communities; (2) the volatility of research hypotheses that threaten to reinforce ethnic, gender, etc. stereotypes; (3) the prepublication release of research; and (4) the evidentiary requirements for risk characterization. There is not enough space here to elaborate on each of these pressing issues but they represent concerns at the frontiers of research ethics in an era characterized by enormous

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uncertainties about risk and tremendous financial and human stakes in how they are to be handled.

COMMUNITY-BASED RESEARCH One of the most pioneering and democratically-informed developments in recent scientific research is the emergence of “community-based research.” I will briefly describe the normative basis of this new approach and highlight some of the particular ethical challenges that it poses. My purpose is not to offer a comprehensive analysis of such investigation or its ethical complexities, but simply to offer this as an approach to scientific inquiry that takes seriously the possibility of scientific engagement to promote fundamental human rights. Unlike traditional academic research, which is driven by the intellectual interests of scientists, or industry-sponsored research, which seeks to develop or secure the marketability of products, community-driven or participatory research is oriented to the self-defined needs of a particular group. As one advocacy organization puts it, communitybased research is “coupled relatively tightly with community groups that are eager to know the research results and to use them in practical efforts to achieve constructive social change” (58). Community-based research might focus on environmental or public health initiatives, land-use planning, or epidemiologic surveys to ascertain information on disease incidence. Steve Wing, an epidemiologist at the University of North Carolina (UNC), has undertaken community-driven studies of industrialized hog production to determine (1) whether there are risk disparities in the siting of concentrated animal feed operations (CAFO) and (2) what the health effects of exposure to CAFOs might be (30). The siting issue was the basis of an environmental justice study whose questions originated with the exposed communities. That study was funded by the National Institutes of Environmental Health Sciences (NIEHS) to a partnership formed by the Concerned Citizens of Tillery, the Halifax North Carolina County Health Department, and the UNC School of Public Health. In the health effects study, Wing and his team collaborated with community-based organizations in three rural areas to develop and implement a questionnaire on respiratory and other symptoms potentially associated with proximity to hog CAFO. The rural health survey was funded by the North Carolina State Health Department. The findings from the environmental justice study indicated that CAFOs are disproportionately located in proximity to poor communities and communities of color. Hog production facilities were also concentrated in areas where most people depend on wells for drinking water. These finding were significant for the design and conduct of the subsequent health effects study because they reinforced the minority communities’ sense of disenfranchisement and suspicion toward institutions including health departments, universities, and researchers. An essential aspect of the health effects study—which depended on the participation of these community members—was, therefore, the establishment of trust and trustworthiness through a research process that guaranteed confidentiality to the participants and accurately reported results in a timely way. The finding from the health effects study indicated that “residents near the hog CAFO reported increased numbers of headaches, runny noses, sore throats, excessive coughing, diarrhea, and burning eyes” (30). Wing’s experience conducting high-stakes, state-funded university research to examine the possible negative effects on communities of one of the state’s largest and fastest growing industries represents a cautionary tale about conflicts of interest,

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confidentiality, and the scope of institutional review boards—three issues central to the quality of a research process. Hog production in North Carolina has grown approximately 300% in the last 15 years. The industry has economic ties and governance roles at the state’s research universities and ties at all levels of government in North Carolina and the U.S. Congress (59). These affiliations create pressure on researchers whose work potentially threatens the industry. Pressure comes from the industry itself in the form of threatened lawsuits, from academic administrators and superiors concerned about funding, and from researchers themselves who self-censor to avoid trouble. For example, the pork industry response to Wing’s health effects study findings was swift. An industry representative, who was also a member of the UNC Board of Governors, called Wing to explain that good business requires CAFO siting on the cheapest land. The UNC Vice-Chancellor set up a meeting with Wing indicating concern about an upcoming presentation of study data before the North Carolina General Assembly—which votes on UNC appropriations. As one researcher told Wing, the legal threats from the hog industry caused this untenured faculty member to drop controversial hog research. Likewise, North Carolina State researcher JoAnn Burkholder, whose pioneering work has implicated run-off from hog farming in widespread aquatic pollution, has generated industry backlash such that Burkholder advises untenured colleagues to stay away from politically unpalatable research (60). In addition to discouraging researchers, such pressure can also threaten the confidentiality of informants, thereby producing a chilling effect on individuals’ and communities’ willingness to participate in research. In response to Wing’s findings, attorneys from the North Carolina Pork Council wrote to the researchers requesting, under the North Carolina Public Records Law, documents from the health study including “the identities.of persons interviewed” and maps of the study locations. As Wing points out, the “North Carolina Public Records Statute does not protect documents collected in the course of research involving human subjects” (30). As such, it is up to researchers, and their universities—which may have their own institutional conflicts of interest—to safeguard participant confidentiality in publicly-funded research. Another structural obstacle in safeguarding confidentiality in such research is the traditional scope of institutional review boards. Such boards, which evolved in response to biomedical research on individual human subjects, tend to focus on potential research harms to individuals directly participating in research. In the context of environmental research, however, entire communities can be placed at risk by research results that are adverse to powerful industries that operate in those communities. As IRBs take responsibility for reviewing an increasing number of public health research protocols involving epidemiological and toxicological methods, the question of risk to communities will become increasingly important.

CONCLUSION Policy-relevant science takes place within a context of extremely high stakes: high human and environmental stakes—when proposed or existing activities of industry or government pose potential threat or benefit—often disproportionately—to particular populations; high political stakes—when elected representatives must make controversial policy decisions; and high economic stakes—when industries and others stand to gain or lose by virtue of science-based regulation. The ethical stakes in policy-relevant science are also extremely high. In the face of often significant uncertainty about risk and opposing values and

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interests of stakeholders, the process by which science contributes to the policy process becomes all-important. In this paper I have argued that an ethical process—one that is accountable to public norms of transparency, respect, and fairness—entails candor about the context in which science is produced. This includes disclosure about the financial ties and potentially biasing conflicts of interest behind scientific research as well as explicit efforts to democratize the generation of scientific knowledge by initiating research with and from the point of view of traditionally disenfranchised and marginalized groups. These two ingredients of an ethically informed practice of science are especially important as science and the norms governing it face increasing pressure to conform to the norms of the marketplace: secrecy, entrepreneurial research directed at marketable products, and risk characterizations that are favorable to industry interests.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS I would like to thank Jill Schneiderman, Darryl Farber, and David Bellinger for their very helpful comments on earlier drafts of this paper.

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Index

Abortion. See spontaneous abortion Absorption, neurotoxic metals, 232–233 Academic performance, 115–116, 156–158, 182, 344 Acetaldehyde, 4–5 Acetyl cholinesterase (AChE), 254–256, 276 Acrodynia, 12 Aculturation, neurobehavioral tests, 310 Acute lymphoblastic leukemia (ALL), 131–148 Adaptive mechanisms, 183–184, 508 Adjusted regression coefficients, 386 Adolescence, 17, 27, 32, 155–157, 327 Adopted children, 211 Adulteration of samples, 291–293 Adults, 4, 142, 309, 341–359, 495 AEDs. See antiepileptic drugs Affect, 72–73, 425–429 Age groups, 435–436, 439 Agency for Toxic Substances and Disease Registry (ATSDR), 471, 485 Age-related effects, 138, 307–308, 343 Aggregate-level studies, 401–402 Aggression, 425–429 Aging, 14–15, 17–18 Alcohol, 37, 169–191, 325. See also fetal alcohol spectrum disorders Alkaloids, 133 Alkylating agents, 133 ALL. See acute lymphoblastic leukemia Alzheimer’s disease, 341–342, 344–345, 351–352 American medical profession, 511–512 ‘Ancient’ toxin tolerance, 508 Angiotensin-converting enzyme (ACE), 519 Animal cognitive studies Alzheimer’s disease/early life lead exposure, 345 antiepileptic drug teratology, 106, 107

[Animal cognitive studies] cocaine teratology, 201–208 critical period of exposure, 343 cross-species comparisons, 417–418 cumulative learning, 424–425 early toxicant exposure, 417–447 environmental enrichments, 436–438 executive functions, 421–424 fetal organic solvent exposure, 89 multigenerational testing, 488–489 neglected function, 421 Parkinson’s disease risks, 346 ‘representative’ learning tasks, 419–421 sensitivity, 418–429 specific cognitive functions, 430–435 task selection, 418–435 tobacco, 153–154 Animal feed, 521–522 Anthracyclines, 133 Antiepileptic drug teratology, 103–130 Antimetabolites, 133–134 Anti-social behavior, 425–429 Anti-thyroid activity, 449–463 Anxiety, 426 Apical tests, 494 Arousal regulation, 200, 209–210, 217 Arsenic, 231, 232 Asparaginase, 132–134, 138 ATSDR. See Agency for Toxic Substances and Disease Registry Attention cocaine teratology, 200, 207–210 complex constructs to explain, 72 deficit disorders, 153, 155–156, 176–178 tasks, 432–433 Auditory processing, 156–157 Automated address matching, 403 Automated operant tasks, 435, 439 525

526 BAEPs. See brainstem auditory evoked potentials Banked biological samples, 348–349 Barbiturates, 107–116 Batteries of cognitive tasks, 420–421 Bayh–Dole Act, 506, 514, 519 Bayley Scales of Infant Development (BSID), 35, 305–307, 494 Behavioral Assessment and Research System (BARS), neurobehavioral tests, 312 Behavioral phenotypes, 429–430, 439 ‘Behavioral signature’, lead neurotoxicity in children, 71 Behavior aspects children’s unique patterns, 489 cocaine, 197, 206–208, 211–216 delayed methylmercury poisoning, 13–14 fetal alcohol spectrum disorders, 183–185 neurobehavioral test batteries, 303–320 neuroimaging role, 321–322, 327–332 organic solvent toxicity, 89 parental smoking effects, 149, 154–158 PCB exposure, 44–49 teratology study concepts, 194–197 Bench Mark Dose (BMD), 8, 58, 389–392 Bergland, Fredrik, 3 Best Pharmaceuticals for Children Act, 469 Bias, 172, 349, 374, 507 Binge drinking behavior, 173, 186 Bioconcentration, 3 Biological monitoring, 86–87 Biomarkers. See exposure biomarkers Biomonitoring, 234–248, 258, 264, 272–275 Blinding, 308 Block groups, 402 Blood-brain barrier, neurotoxic metals, 232 Blood levels insecticide exposure assessment, 264, 265, 273–275 lead in children, 67, 73 mercury, 8, 240–241, 245–248 methylmercury, 382–387, 389–390 neurotoxic metals, 235, 237, 240–241, 245–248 BMD. See Bench Mark Dose Body measurements, 104 Bone lead, 70 Bonferroni method, 382 Boston Naming Test (BNT), 35, 328–329, 331–332, 383, 387–389 Brain activation patterns, 323, 327–332 damage, 321, 325–327

Index [Brain] development, 342–344, 451–456 metabolism, 325–326 Brainstem auditory evoked potentials (BAEPs), 27, 36 Brazelton Neonatal Behavioral Assessment Scale, 307 Breast milk, 51, 53–57, 258, 264 BSID. See Bayley Scales of Infant Development Built environment, 397–402 Byers, Randolph, 502 Cadmium, 231 CAFO. See concentrated animal feed operations Calcium channel blockers, 507, 519 California Verbal Learning Test (CVLT), 383, 387–389 Calomel, 12 Cambridge Neuropsychological Automated Battery (CANTAB), 72 Cancer terminology, 518–519 Cannabinoid testing, 292 Cannabis, 287–302 CANTAB. See Cambridge Neuropsychological Automated Battery Carbamates, 253–257, 274 Carbamazepine (CBZ), 106, 107, 109, 115, 118–119, 122 Cardiac effects, 107–109 Caregiving interactions, 212–213 Carson, Rachel, 3 Catecholamines, 200–201 Causality, 362–363, 502–506 CBCL. See Child Behavior Check List CBZ. See carbamazepine Census-block groups, 401–402 Central nervous system (CNS), 87–88, 107–108, 122, 131–132, 169 CHAMACOS birth cohort study, 259 ‘Change-in-estimate’ approach, 370, 372, 374 Chemical disasters, 3–6 Chemical risk modeling, 403 Chemical toxicant exposure, 395–416 Chemistry of organic solvents, 83–84 Chemotherapy, 131–148 Child Behavior Check List (CBCL), 48, 157–158 Children clinical research perspective, 485–499 differences from adults, 495 insecticide exposure, 254, 261–263

Index [Children] lead neurotoxicity, 67–82 lead toxicity, 502 leukemia chemotherapy, 131–148 Parkinsonism, 345–346 PCBs effects on brain development, 453–456 prenatal methylmercury exposure, 381–394 public health burden of learning disabilities, 465–466 Chisso factory, Japan, 4 Choline, fish, 9 Chronic disease, 487–488 Clarkson, Thomas W., 6 Classes of organic solvents, 84–86 Cleft palate, 107 Clinical exposure assessment, 233 Clinical practice, 485–499 CNS. See central nervous system Cocaine animal cognitive function studies, 422–423, 426, 433 extent of use, 197–199 maternal biological measures, 291–294 maternal reporting, 288–291 mother–child relationship effects, 211–216 neonatal biological measures, 294–296 neuroimaging, 325 prenatal exposure, 193–229 prevalence, 288 teratogenic mechanisms, 199–211 in utero exposure assessment, 287–302 Co-exposure, 402–403 Cognition-related executive skills, 181 Cognitive aspects animal tests, 417–447 antiepileptic drug teratology, 107, 110–124 cocaine teratology, 210–211 early life exposure effects on adults, 341–342, 346–347, 353 fetal alcohol spectrum disorders, 173–174, 178–179 leukemia therapy outcomes, 133, 135–138 parental smoking, 150, 156–158 ‘Cognitive reserve’ hypothesis, 344–345 Cohort studies, 25–29, 245–246 Color discrimination, 95–96 Commercialization of science, 514 ‘Commonly used’ covariates, 364–367 Communalism (scientific), 512 Community-based research, 521–522 Complex decision making, 513–514 Computer-based neurobehavioral tests for children, 309, 312–313

527 Computerized tomography (CT), 322, 326 Concentrated animal feed operations (CAFO), 521–522 Concentration–response/concentration–effect relationship, 73–74 Conduct disorders, 155–156 Confidence levels, 362–363 Conflicts of interest, 518–521 Confounding variables alcohol effect studies, 171, 172 biological susceptibility, 404–406 early life exposure effects on adults, 349–350 human neurotoxicological studies, 361–378 lead studies, 75–77, 503–504 methylmercury, 9–11, 36–38 Monte-Carlo studies, 370–371 neurobehavioral tests for children, 308–309, 315 PCB exposure studies, 51–54, 59 social/chemical risk interaction, 404 social-ecological perspective, 402–403 Congeners, 455, 456 Congener-specific analysis, 49–51, 59 Congenital malformations risk, 91–93 Contamination of samples, 292, 293 Context, social-ecological, 395–416 Continuous variables, 367–368 Continuum of effects, 105 Control, 361–378 groups, 140–141, 304, 306 variables, 367–368 See also confounder control Cord blood exposure assessment, 477 insecticides, 258 mercury levels, 8 methylmercury levels, 382–387, 389–390 neurotoxic metals, 236, 237, 241, 245–248 Cortical atrophy, 134 Cortical morphology, 201–202 Corticosteroids, 132–134, 137–138 Council for Tobacco Research (CTR), 518–519 Covariates, 363, 368–375, 402–403. See also confounding variables Crack cocaine, 198 Cranial irradiation therapy (CRT), 131–133, 135, 139, 143 Cranio-facial abnormalities, 104, 107–109, 116–118, 121, 169, 174–175 Creatine, 70, 274 Criteria for entry of covariates, 369–375

528 ‘Critical Developmental Windows for Exposure’ concept, 341 Critical exposure periods, 342–344, 488–489 Critical outcomes, 71–73 Cross-cultural issues, 309–310, 314–315 Cross-sectional studies, 29–32, 36–38, 304 Cross-species comparisons, 417–418 CRT. See cranial irradiation therapy CT. See computerized tomography CTR. See Council for Tobacco Research Cultural issues, 309–310, 314–315 Cumulative learning, 424–425 Cumulative risk assessment, 396 Cytochrome P-450 system, 489, 491 DA. See dopamine ‘Dancing disease’, 4 DDE. See p,p’-dichlorodiphenyldichloroethane DDST. See Denver Developmental Screening Test DDT. See p,p’-dichlorodiphenyltrichloroethane Deciduous teeth, 235, 348–349 Delayed non-matching-to-sample task (DNMS), 419–420, 436 Delayed toxicity, 5, 13–16 Delinquency, 185 Democratic norms, 511–512 Demographics, 198–199, 308, 365–366 Dental amalgams, 1, 11–12 Denver Developmental Screening Test (DDST), 35, 494 Depakote (valproic acid), 122 Derived variables, 402 Detoxification enzymes, 257 Dexamethasone, 134 Diaries, 239, 272 p,p’-Dichlorodiphenyldichloroethane (DDE), 53–54, 258–259 p,p’-Dichlorodiphenyltrichloroethane (DDT), 54, 254, 257, 258 Dichotomous variables, 367–368 Diet, 2–13, 18, 25–42, 233–234, 239–240, 365, 407–408 Difference versus deficit, 142 Digital hypoplasia, 104, 107–109, 116, 120, 121 Digit Cancellation task, 47 Dilantin, 107 Dioxin-like PCB congeners, 49–50 Dioxins, 48, 53 ‘Dirty dozen’ chemicals, 480–481 Disasters, 3–6, 43

Index Disclosure in conflicts of interest, 519–521 Disease patterns in children, 487–488 Disinterestedness (scientific), 512, 514 Distress, 406 Distributions, 75 DNMS. See delayed non-matching-to-sample task Domain-specific testing, 306–308 Dopamine (DA), 200–203, 206–207, 209, 210 Dopamine receptors (D1/D2), 201, 203, 206–207, 210 Dopaminergic pathways, 151 Dose, 389–392, 474 Dose–response relationships cocaine effects, 195, 211 fetal alcohol spectrum disorders, 172–173 neurotoxic metals, 237–239, 247–248 pediatric risk assessment, 492–493 potential neurotoxins, 467–474 pregnancy effects of insecticides, 260 structural equation models, 381–394 thyroid hormone, 453–454 ‘Double dissociation’, 71 Drinking water exposure, 233–234 Drug abuse, 150, 325–326. See also cannabis; cocaine Drug–drug interactions, 135 Drug testing, 291–296 Duplicate diet studies, 240 Dysmorphic fetal alcohol spectrum disorders, 169–170 Early toxicant exposure, 417–447 Ecological level, 395–416 Economics, 501–509 EDSTAC. See Endocrine Disruptor Screening and Testing Advisory Committee Educational performance, 115–116, 156–158, 182, 344 EE. See environmental enrichment Effect, 387–389, 490. See also confounding variables; exposure–effect relationship Effective internal dose, 343 Elderly people, 341–359 Emotion, 72–73, 181, 425–429 Empirical approach, 369 Encephalopathy, 67 Endocrine disruption, 48, 449–463, 516–517 Endocrine Disruptor Screening and Testing Advisory Committee (EDSTAC), 449–450 Endocrine Disruptor Screening and Testing Program (EDSTP), 469

Index Endpoints, 450–451, 494 Entry of covariates, 369–375 Environmental endocrine hypothesis, 516–517 Environmental enrichment (EE), 436–438 Environmental exposures, 326–332 Environmental Protection Agency (EPA), 468–469, 501 Epidemiological studies control aspects, 361–378 goals, 470–474 infertility risk from organic solvent exposure, 90 lead, 503–505 neurotoxicity evaluation issues, 501–509 neurotoxic metals, 233 PCB effects on neurophysiological function, 43–66 pediatric disease patterns, 488 structural equation models, 381–394 Epilepsy, 103–130 Epipodophyllotoxins, 133 Epistemic issues, 501–509 Error reactions, 426–428. See also measurement error Ethanol, 169–191, 325 Ethical issues, 511–525 Evaluation of neurotoxicity, 501–509 Examiners, 308, 311–312 Executive functions, 180–181, 210, 421–424 Experimental/non-experimental studies comparison, 362–363 Exposure assessment, 474–478 biomarkers, 68–71, 75–76, 348–349, 352, 490–491 insecticides, 263–275 methylmercury neurotoxicity studies, 32–33 neurotoxic metals, 231–251 phase in pediatric risk assessment, 493 Exposure–effect relationship, 57–58 Exposure error, 391–392 Exposure estimation measurement error, 385–386 Exposure misclassification, 236, 241 Exposure to ethanol (ETOH), 325 Extensions, 384–385 Facial anomalies, 104, 107–109, 116–118, 121 FAE. See fetal alcohol effect Fagan Test of Infant Intelligence (FTII), 47, 307, 473 False negative (Type II) errors, 171, 502–505, 508, 518

529 False positive (Type I) errors, 502–505, 508, 518 Family structure, 37, 397 Faroe Islands study, 6–8, 10, 17, 245–247 DDE exposure, 53 Imaging Study, 327 neurotoxicity studies, 26–27, 29, 33, 35, 39 PCB exposure, 48, 51–52 prenatal exposure, 381–394 whaling record relationship, 348 FAS. See fetal alcohol syndrome FASD. See fetal alcohol spectrum disorders Feces analysis, 235 Fecundability ratio (FR), 90 Female-dominated occupations, 84, 94 Fetal alcohol effect (FAE), 94, 169, 186 Fetal alcohol spectrum disorders (FASD), 169–191, 325 Fetal alcohol syndrome (FAS), 169, 172, 186 critical period, 343 methylmercury comparison, 2 neuroimaging, 325 organic solvent effects comparison, 94 Fetal anticonvulsant syndrome, 116 Fetus antiepileptic medications, 103–130 cannabis/cocaine, 287–302, 325 hydantoin syndrome, 116 insecticides, 254, 256, 258–261, 264 maternal smoking, 151–153 mercury vapor effects, 11–13 metals, 234–248 methylmercury, 5–6 organic solvents, 83–84, 86–99 Parkinson’s disease risk, 345–346 Financial interests, 519–521 Finger tapping, 329, 332 First trimester, 290 Fish. See seafood FMRI. See functional magnetic resonance imaging Food retrieval behavior, 272 FR. See fecundability ratio Freshwater fish, 25–42 Frontal cortex, 423–424 FTII. See Fagan Test of Infant Intelligence Functional domains, 306–308 Functional form, 73–74 Functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI), 323, 327–332 Gasoline, 505, 507, 508 Gastrointestinal malformations, 108 GCs. See glucocorticoids

530 Gender-related effects, 84, 94, 138 Gene–environment interaction, 491 Genetic factors drug susceptibility, 106, 107, 124 PCBs effects, 455 polymorphisms as lead toxicity confounders, 77 smoking, 151 social-ecological perspective, 407–408 thyroid hormone, 452, 455 Genitourinary anomalies, 108 Geographic information system (GIS) technology, 403 German study, 44–52, 55 GIS. See geographic information system technology Global measures, 305–307 Glucocorticoids (GCs), 134 Glue sniffing, 96–97 Growth deficiency, 107–109, 116–121, 151–152, 169 Hair maternal drug testing, 293 mercury concentrations, 27–33 methylmercury levels, 6–7, 382–387, 389–390 neonatal drug testing, 295–296 neurotoxic metals, 235–237, 241–243, 245–247 structure differences, 33 Hair-to-blood ratio, 33 Halogenation, 88 Harding, Sandra, 513, 516 Hashish. See cannabis Hazard identification, 467–474, 491–492 Head circumference, 152–153. See also microcephaly Health Effects Test Guidelines for Developmental Neurotoxicity testing, 419 Health outcomes, 400–401 Heart defects, 108 Heterogeneous treatment protocols, 140 Hill’s criteria, 505–506 Hippocampal function, 420 Hispanic children, 309–310, 312, 315 Historical information, 3, 263, 502 Hog production, 521–522 Home environment, 365–366, 368 Homelessness, 396–399 Home Observation for Measurement of the Environment (HOME) scale, 309 HOME score, 48 Hooper visual organization test, 328–330

Index Hormone replacement therapy (HRT), 361 Housing, 397–399 HPT. See hypothalamic–pituitary–thyroid axis HRT. See hormone replacement therapy Hydantoins, 107, 116 Hygiene monitoring, 86–87 Hyperactivity disorders, 157, 176–178 Hypoplasia, 104, 107–109, 116–121 Hyporeflexia, 258 Hypothalamic–pituitary–thyroid (HPT) axis, 450, 451 Hypothyroidism, 453, 454 Hypoxia, 199 ‘Identical’ cognitive tasks, 435–436, 439 Immune modulators, 133 Independent variables, 363 Indoleamines, 200–201 Industrial interests, 503–505, 507 Industrial solvents, 83–84, 86–99 Infants characteristics, 365 dysmorphological characteristics, 104 neurobehavioral test batteries, 307 parental smoking effects, 154–155, 157 See also children; neonates Infectious diseases, 346 Infertility risk, 90 Inhalant abuse, 96–97 Inhaled mercury vapor, 1, 11–12 Inorganic mercury, 11–13, 232 Insecticides, 253–285 Integrated exposure uptake biokinetic (IEUBK) models, 238–239 Intellectual decrements, 104–105, 149, 156–158 International cooperation, 480–481 International harmonization, 470 Intertrial interval (ITI), 431 Interviews, 288–291 Intrathecal chemotherapy, 131–148 Inuit study, 52, 54 IQ animal cognitive tests, 422 fetal alcohol spectrum disorders, 174, 182 global measures, 305 human neurotoxicological study covariable, 366, 368, 372 intellectual functioning relationship, 182 lead toxicity studies in children, 71 methylmercury, 2–3, 39 parental smoking effects, 155, 157 PCB exposure studies, 49, 58–59, 472 preschool lead exposure, 403

Index Iraq, 3, 5–6 Isoforms, 451–453 ITI. See intertrial interval Japan, 43 Kaufman Assessment Battery for Children (K-ABC), 44, 48, 50, 57, 307 Kaufman Brief Intelligence Test (K-BIT), 313 Kennard, Margaret, 13–14 Knockout mice, 452–453, 456 Knowledge, 511–525 Lactational exposure, 488 Language issues, 174–176, 309–310, 314–315 Late neuropsychological effects, 135–138 Latent variables, 384–385, 388 Laties, Victor, 501 Lead age-related poisoning dosage, 343 Alzheimer’s disease relationship, 345 childhood poisoning/cognitive impairment in adults link, 346–347 children, 67–82 confounding variables, 75–77 critical outcomes choice, 71–73 critical period of exposure, 343 exposure assessment, 231–239 exposure biomarkers, 68–71 history of understanding, 502 neuroimaging, 326 parental smoking comparison, 157–158 PCB study confounder, 52 postnatal exposure, 370–371 preschool exposure, 404–405 reversibility of effects, 74–75 schizophrenia link, 344 social-ecological perspective, 402–403 Lead industry, 505, 507, 508 Learning difficulties animal cognitive tests, 419–421 antiepileptic drug teratology, 110, 115 fetal alcohol spectrum disorders, 175–176, 182 leukemia chemotherapy outcomes, 142 neurobehavioral tests for children, 315–316 phases, 433–435 public health burden of disabilities, 465–466 Legislation, 479–481. See also individual Acts Leukemia, 131–148 Leukoencephalopathy, 134 Liberal p-value criteria, 371–372, 374

531 Life-long studies, 14–15, 17–18 Ligand-dependent transcription factors, 451–452 Limitations, 69, 71, 89, 361–378 Linear models, 74 Lipids, 9–10, 84, 86 Lipopolysaccharides, 346 Log-transformed exposure data, 74 Longitudinal studies, 43–44, 171, 173, 315–316 Long-term outcomes, 181–182 Low birth weight, 151–152 Magnetic resonance imaging (MRI), 322–323, 325–332, 351 Magnetic resonance spectroscopy (MRS), 324–326, 351 Major malformations, 104, 108, 116, 117–119, 123 Maneb, 346 Manganese, 231, 232, 234 Marihuana. See cannabis Maternal aspects attachment in cocaine-using mothers, 214–215 biomonitoring of insecticide effects, 260–261, 264, 274 blood analysis, 241, 248 cannabis/cocaine testing, 291–294 hair methylmercury levels, 27–33, 382–387, 389–390 self reporting of cannabis/cocaine use, 288–291 serum levels, 477 smoking, 149–167 Maternal Health Practices and Child Development (MHPCD) project, 289–290 McCarthy Scales, 27, 44, 48, 53, 58 MDI. See Mental Development Index Measurement error, 385–386, 392, 502–505, 508, 518 pediatric neurotoxicity, 493–495 problems, 141 reliability, 367–369 Mechanisms of cocaine teratology, 195, 199–208 Mechanism versus outcome approach, 194–195 Meconium analysis, 264, 275, 294–295 Medial temporal lobes, 419, 430 Mediators of neurotoxic effects, 58 MeHg. See methylmercury Memory, 156, 157, 175–176, 419–421

532 Menstrual disorders, 90 Mental Development Index (MDI), 494 Mental retardation (MR), 110–116, 121–124, 419–421, 424–425 6-Mercaptopurine, 133 Mercury, 16–17, 231–248. See also methylmercury Mercury vapor, 11–13 Merton, Robert, 506, 512 Mesolimbic system, 200, 206 Meta-analysis, 93 Metals, 231–251. See also individual metals Methamphetamine exposure, 326 Methodological issues, 97–98, 309–310, 312–315 Methotrexate (MTX), 131, 133–137 Methylmercury, 1–23 cross-sectional studies, 29–32 delayed toxicity, 13–16 developmental tests, 35 exposure assessment, 231–248 Faroese Imaging Study, 327–332 inorganic mercury confusion, 11–13 Iraq, 3–6 neuroimaging, 326 neurological tests, 34 neuropsychological tests, 35–36 outcome variables, 34 PCB study confounder, 52–53 prenatal exposure, 381–394 prospective epidemiological studies, 25–29 seafood, 2–13 Mexico, 259 Michigan study, 43–49, 52, 55–56, 58 Micro-activity recording, 272 Microcephaly, 107–109, 116–121 Midface hypoplasia, 104, 107–109, 116–118, 121 Milk analysis, 235, 243, 258, 264 Minamata Disease, 3–6, 17–18 Minor malformations, 104 Misclassification errors, 68–71, 73 Misreporting, 291, 296 Mitosis, 6 Moderator variables on child performance, 107, 141 Modifications in structural equation models, 388 Monitoring workplace organic solvents, 86–87 Monkeys, 15, 436 Monoaminergic system, 197, 199–203 Monotherapy/polytherapy comparison, 107–116

Index Monte-Carlo studies, 370–371, 374 Motivation, 308, 313 Motor skills, 179–180, 329, 332 Mouse studies, 452–453 MR. See mental retardation MRI. See magnetic resonance imaging MRS. See magnetic resonance spectroscopy MTX. See methotrexate Multi-agent chemotherapy, 132–133, 135 Multigenerational testing, 488–489 Multi-level models, 408–409 Multi-level studies, 399–402 Multiple comparisons, 392 Multiple regression analysis, 383 Multivariate observational studies, 361–378 N-acetylaspartate (NAA), 70, 351–352 Nail analysis, 236, 237, 243–244 Narrow-band tests, 494 NAS committee, 389–390 National Health and Nutrition Examination Survey (NHANES), 244 National Human Activity Pattern Survey (NHAPS), 262 National Research Council Committee on Biological Markers, 76 National Survey on Drug Use and Health (NSDUH), 197–198 NBAS. See Neonatal Behavioral Assessment Scale NE. See norepinephrine Negative feedback, HPT axis, 450, 451 Neighborhood social context, 400–402 Neonatal Behavioral Assessment Scale (NBAS), 473 Neonates, 154, 258, 264, 266, 294–296 Nero, Emperor, 501 NES2 Finger Tapping test, 383, 387–389 Netherlands study, 44–52, 54–58 Neural tube defects, 122, 123 Neurobehavioral teratology, 103–130 Neurobehavioral tests, 303–320, 383, 387–389 Neurochemical studies, 201–209 Neurodevelopmental function tests, 71 Neuroimaging, 321–339 Neurological diseases of the elderly, 341–342, 344–353 Neurological Optimality Score (NOS), 32 Neurological tests, 34 Neuropathological changes, 139 Neuropsychological function, 30–31, 35–36, 121, 125 Neurotoxic metals, 231–251 New Zealand, 26, 28–29, 33, 35, 39, 245

Index NHANES. See National Health and Nutrition Examination Survey NHSDA (National Household Survey on Drug Abuse). See National Survey on Drug Use and Health Nicotine, 153. See also smoking; tobacco smoke Nicotinyls, 253, 256, 258 Nigrostriatal system, 200, 206 Nondysmorphic fetal alcohol spectrum disorders, 169–170 Non-experimental studies, 361–378 Non-linear dose–effect relationships, 74 Norepinephrine (NE), 200, 201, 206, 209 ‘Normal’ blood lead levels, 67–68 Normative context, 512–516 North Carolina (USA) study, 44–47, 56, 258 NOS. See Neurological Optimality Score NSDUH. See National Survey on Drug Use and Health Nun study, 344 Nutrition, 365, 407–408. See also diet Objectivity, science, 502, 512–514, 516 Observational studies, 272, 361–378 Occupational exposure, 83–84, 86–87, 90–96, 98–99 OECD. See Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development Offspring development, 83–84, 86–99 Oral fluid analysis, 291–292. See also saliva analysis Organic ligands, 231–232 Organic solvents, 83–99 Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD), 469–470 Organized skepticism, science, 512 Organochlorines (OC), 254, 257–259, 266–268, 273–274 Organohalogens, 10. See also PCBs Organophosphates, 253–257, 259, 269–271, 273–274, 476 Oswego birth cohort studies, 44–47, 51–52, 258–259 Outcomes, 30–31 Outcome variables, 34 Outcome versus mechanism approach, 194–195 Paraoxonase (PON), 491 Paraquat, 346 Parental smoking, 149–167 Parent–child relationship, 211–216 Parenting impairments, 211–215

533 Parent-rated behavior, 183–185 Parkinson’s disease, 342, 345–346 Passive smoking, 149–150, 155 Paternal smoking, 151 Path diagrams, 387 Patterns of environmental disease, 487–488 Patterns of minor malformations, 104, 107–109 PB. See phenobarbital PBPK. See physiologically-based pharmacokinetic models PCBs. See polychlorinated biphenyls PEA. See prenatal exposure to alcohol Pediatric Environmental Health (PEH), 485 Pediatric Environmental Health Speciality Units (PEHSUs), 485, 486 Pediatric Environmental Neurobehavioral Test Battery (PENTB), 306, 313 PEHSUs. See Pediatric Environmental Health Speciality Units PENTB. See Pediatric Environmental Neurobehavioral Test Battery Perceptual performance, 373 Perchlorate, 450 Perinatal period, 264, 453, 454 Peripheral neuropathy, 134 Perseverative phase, 434 Persistent deficits, 75 Pesticides exposure studies, 312–315 insecticide exposure, 253–285 mercury toxicity confounding, 38 Parkinson’s disease link, 346 PCB study confounders, 53–54 PET. See positron emission tomography Pharmacokinetic modeling, 234, 237–239, 247 Phases of learning process, 433–435 Phenobarbital (PB), 106, 107, 109, 115, 117–118, 121–122 Phenylketonuria (PKU), 343, 424–425 Phenylpyrazoles, 258 Phenytoin (PHT), 106, 109, 115–117, 120–121 Photic stimulation, 328, 329 PHT. See phenytoin Physical environment, 397–402 Physical properties of organic solvents, 84–86 Physiologically-based pharmacokinetic (PBPK) models, 237–239, 247 Pilot-revise-pilot process, 310, 315 Pink Disease, 12 PKU. See phenylketonuria Placental transfer, 87, 260–261

534 Plasma levels, 449–452, 456, 477 Plus maze, 426 Policy issues, 478–481 Policy-relevant science, 511–525 Polychlorinated biphenyls (PCBs) behavioral deficit types, 44–49 confounding variables, 51–54, 59 epidemiological study issues, 43–66 exposure–effect relationship, 57–58 Faroese Imaging Study, 327–332 IQ tests, 472 mercury toxicity confounding, 37 postnatal effects, 54–57, 59–60 prenatal studies, 373 seafood, 10–11 social-ecological perspective, 405 thyroid hormone signaling effects, 454–456 Polydrug effects, 135, 199 Polytherapy, 106–116 PON. See paraoxonase Population studies, 2–3, 29–32, 233, 244–245 Positron emission tomography (PET), 324, 325 Postnatal period, 16–17, 54–57, 59–60, 199, 370–371 ‘Post-normal’ science, 514–517 Potential pathways for adverse effects, 151–153 Potential risk assessment, 466–478 Poverty, 211, 396–401 Practice effects, 315–316 Preclinical models, 206–208 Predictors of adverse outcomes, 124–125 Prednisone, 133, 134 Prefrontal cortex, 424 Pregnancy acetyl cholinesterase activity, 256 antiepileptic medications, 103–130 cannabis/cocaine use assessment, 193–229, 287–302 creatine adjustment of urine samples, 274 drug use prevalence, 198 drug use reporting, 290 fetal alcohol spectrum disorders, 169–191 gestational exposure, 488 insecticide exposure, 256, 260–261, 264 mercury exposure, 240–248 neurotoxic metal biomonitoring, 236–237 organic solvent exposure, 83–84, 86–99 smoking, 149–167 Prenatal exposure, 6–8, 29–32, 43, 55–56, 95–96, 381–394

Index Prenatal exposure to alcohol (PEA), 170, 186. See also fetal alcohol spectrum disorders Prenatal hypothyroidism, 453 Prenatal PCB exposure studies, 373 Pre-School Activity Inventory, 48 Preschool children, 155, 157, 307–308, 312–315, 404–405 Preschool Language Scale Total Language and Auditory Comprehension, 28 Primates, 15, 436 Prognostic indicators, 493–495 Properties of organic solvents, 84–86 Prospective studies, 25–29, 43–44, 94, 170–171 Prospective versus retrospective design, 141 Protein binding, 232–233, 261 Protocol manuals, 311 Psychiatric disorders, 72–73, 150 Psychopathology, 184 Public health, 38–39, 67, 83–102, 395–416, 465–484 Public norms, 511–512 P-values, 371–372, 374 Pyrethrins, 257 Pyrethroids, 253–255, 257–258 Quality, 311–312, 515 Quality of life (QOL), 142 Questionnaires, 272, 288 Random assignment, 362–363 Reaction time (RT), 178–179 Recall, 239, 289 Red cell lifetimes, 69 Reference dose (RfD), 244–245, 247 Reflective functioning, 215–216 Regression coefficients, 386 Reliability, 368–369 ‘Representative’ learning tasks, 419–421 Reproductive outcome, 83–84, 86–99 Research, 485–499. See also individual study types Residential environmental risk factors, 397–402 Residuals, 363 Responsible scientific conduct, 512–514 Retrospective studies, 171–172 Retrospective versus prospective design, 141 Reversal learning tasks, 434 Reversibility of poisoning, 74–75 RfD. See reference dose

Index Right-to-know, 519–521 Risebrough, Robert, 3 Risk assessment, 466–478 characterization phase, 493 children, 491–493 methylmercury in seafood, 9–11 politics, 511–525 potential neurotoxins, 466–478 reproductive risk after organic solvent exposure, 90–96 SAB. See spontaneous abortion Safety standard setting, 389–392 Saliva analysis, 264, 265, 275, 291–292 Sample collection, 264–265 Sample sizes, 140 SCDS. See Seychelles Child Development Study Schizophrenia, 341, 344, 347–348 School-age children, 155–158, 174, 308 School performance, 158 Science, 512–516 Scientific paradigms, 516–517 Seafood, 2–13, 25–66, 239–240 Seattle Study on Alcohol and Pregnancy, 171 Secondary disabilities, 182 Seizures, 106–107, 109 Selection bias, 291, 349 Self reporting, 288–291, 296 SEM. See structural equation modeling Sensitivity of cognitive tests, 418–429, 438–439 Serotonin, 200, 201, 204–205 Serum levels, 449–452, 456, 477 Serum T4, 449–452, 456 Settings, 25–29 Seychelles Child Development Study (SCDS), 6–8, 16, 27–29, 32, 245, 246 Significance tests, 504–506 Signs and symptoms, 4 Single photon emission computerized tomography (SPECT), 324–325 Skeletal effects, 107–109 Small effects, 504 Smoking, 149–167, 405–406 Social/antisocial behavior, 49 Social construction, 513 Social context, 399–401 Social contextual units, 401–402 Social-ecological perspective, 395–416 Social exposures, 396 Socioeconomic factors, 37, 76, 365–366, 368, 494 Sodium channels, 257

535 Soil exposure, 233–234 Solvents, 83–99 Spanish-speaking children, 309–310, 312, 315. See also Hispanic children Species, 435–436, 439 Specific cognitive functions, 431–435 SPECT. See single photon emission computerized tomography Spontaneous abortion (SAB), 91–92 Spot urine samples, 274–275 SRO. See surprising reward omission Standards, 361–378, 389–392 Steady state pharmacokinetic models, 237–239 Sternberg Memory paradigm, 47 Stressors, 396–399, 406–407 Stress responsivity, 208, 209 ‘Strong objectivity’, 516 Structural equation modeling (SEM), 350, 381–394 Structural magnetic resonance imaging, 322–323, 327–328 Study methodology, 170–173 Subclinical Minamata Disease, 17–18 Substance abuse, 184–185, 211–216, 365–366 Surprising reward omission (SRO), 429 Survey data, 264, 266–272 Susceptibility, 303–304, 404–406, 489, 490 Sweat patches, 292–293 Syndromic actions, 104 Synergistic mechanisms, 404 T4. See thyroxine Taiwan, 43 Task parameters, 432–433 Task selection, 418–435 TCPY. See 3,5,6-trichloropyridinol TEFs. See toxic equivalency factors TEL. See tetraethyl lead TEQ. See toxic equivalency quotient Teratology alcohol, 169 antiepileptic medications, 103–130 cocaine, 193–229 definition, 193–194 inhalant abuse, 96–97 nicotine, 153–154 organic solvents, 89 Terminology, 169–170, 186, 289, 518–519 Test selection, 304–305 Tetraethyl lead (TEL), 505, 507, 508 TH. See thyroid hormone Theoretically-based approach, 369–370, 372–375

536 Thimerosal, 1 Thought Problems, 16 Thyroid hormone receptors (TRs), 455, 456 Thyroid hormone signaling, 58, 449–463 Thyroid receptor isoforms, 451–453 Thyrotropin (TSH), 451 Thyroxine (T4) suppression, 449–452, 455, 456 Time-activity diaries, 272 Time-dependent effects, 453–454 Time to pregnancy (TTP), 90 Timing, 453–454, 474–476 Tissue compartments, 49–51, 68–69 TLC. See Treatment of Lead-Poisoned Children trial Tobacco smoke, 149–167, 405–406 Tower of London, 50, 55 Toxic equivalency factors (TEFs), 50 Toxic equivalency quotient (TEQ), 49–51 Tracking techniques, 478 Traffic fumes, 405 Training neurobehavioral test examiners, 311–312 Transfer of learning. See cumulative learning Transforming data, 368 Translation, 309–310, 314–315 Treatment of Lead-Poisoned Children trial (TLC), 75 3,5,6-trichloropyridinol (TCPY), 274 Triggering of disease, 487–488 TRs. See thyroid hormone receptors TSH. See thyrotropin TTP. See time to pregnancy Twin studies, 345 Type I/II errors, 171, 502–505, 508, 518 Umbilical cord blood. See cord blood UNCED. See United Nations Conference on Environment and Development Underreporting, 150 Understanding child’s needs, 211–212, 215–216 Unemployment, 211 United Nations Conference on Environment and Development (UNCED), 479 Universalism (scientific), 512

Index Unsaturated bonds, 87 Upregulation, 455 Urine analysis insecticide exposure assessment, 264, 265, 273–275 maternal drug testing, 291 neonates, 294 neurotoxic metals, 235 U-shaped dose-response functions, 9 Valence states, 231–232 Validity, covariates, 368–369 Valproic acid (VPA), 106, 107, 109, 115, 119, 122–124 Variables, 36–38, 361–378. See also confounding variables VCR. See vincristine Verbal skills, 174–176 Videotaping, 471 Vincristine (VCR), 131–134, 138 Violence, 211 Visual attention tasks, 432–433 Visual functioning/acuity, 95–96 Visual recognition memory, 47 Visuospatial ability, 176 Volatility of solvents, 84 Voltage-gated sodium channels, 255, 257 VPA. See valproic acid Vulnerability. See susceptibility Weiss, Bernard, 501 Whole blood lead:plasma lead ratio, 69 Wing, Steve, 521–522 Wisconsin Card Sort test, 47 Workplace exposure, 83–84, 86–87, 90–99 X-ray fluorescence (XRF), 69–70, 234, 235 Young children behavior observation techniques, 272 creatine adjustment of urine samples, 274 insecticide exposure assessment, 254, 261–263, 265–272, 275 neurobehavioral test batteries, 307–308, 312–315. See also children; infants