Machine Learning, Health Disparities, and Causal Reasoning
By Steven N. Goodman, Sharad Goel, M. Cullen. 2018
58 citations recorded by the source corpus.
In their current Annals article, Rajkomar and colleagues (1) warn us that the introduction of machine-learned predictive algorithms into medicine might inadvertently reinforce or create inequitable treatment of protected groups, for which the computer science community has adopted the terminology of fairness. Others have noted the need for careful, ethical scrutiny of these models (2), and Rajkomar and colleagues add to those calls an elaborate taxonomy of pitfalls and an oversight structure to minimize the ethical harms. The authors offer some useful constructs, many of which have direct counterparts in clinical research, epidemiology, and implementation science (such as trainingserving skew for generalizability or transportability). In addition to requiring that care guided by algorithms not perpetuate past injustices, they remind us that we must ultimately judge this care by the same ethical standards that we would apply to any new health intervention. They also show that different methodologic definitions of fairness cannot always be satisfied simultaneously, potentially forcing difficult tradeoffs (3). In the article's table, the authors provide a list of process recommendations for each step in the development and application of machine-learned algorithms to maximize the chance that such tools will diminish health disparities, or at least not exacerbate them. That said, the scheme presented to classify the potential distributional disparities created by machine-learning algorithms seems difficult to implement and may need some additional conceptual structure. Broadly speaking, 2 pathways exist by which clinical predictive algorithms may harm protected groups, which typically comprise persons who historically have been victims of social and health disparities. The first consists of the algorithms that predict outcomes less accurately for such persons than for the bulk of the population. This inequality may arise from many sources that the authors elucidate: Too few members of the protected group may have been studied (4); outcomes or predictors in such groups may have been measured less well than in the dominant study population; wider variation may exist among protected patients, leading to less precise estimates of a protected individual's risk; and developers or users of an algorithm may uncritically apply predictions for one group that were derived from another, with poorer predictive success. A second, deeper, and more insidious pitfall may occur even for algorithms meticulously derived from an adequate number of protected persons. If the outcome is a surrogate for the true outcome of interest (such as police arrest for actual crime or rehospitalization for disease severity) and this surrogate is affected by social inequity, then those inequities could be used to predict and hence determine the future. Since the time of Hume, so-called predictions have been understood to be merely future projections of relationships observed in the past. Why is this being brought to the fore only now, in the context of machine learning and social inequity? The answer perhaps is found in the emphasis that medicine has traditionally placed on developing these models in part to understand why things are happening, that is, causal inference. The Framingham model, one of the most durable in medicine, is a signal example. Although this model predicts the probability of cardiovascular disease, its main medical value has been in identifying modifiable causal factors, such as smoking, cholesterol levels, and blood pressure, preselected on the basis of prior knowledge. Research has shown that risk is indeed modified through changes in those risk factors. In contrast, machine-learning algorithms traditionally have been developed and evaluated based only on predictive success, with the computer selecting and combining predictors; an understanding of why the model works has been distinctly secondary or absent. As Judea Pearl passionately argues in his Book of Why (5), why things happenthe causal relationships among inputs and outcomesmay elude machine-learning algorithms. Such algorithms might select discolored teeth as a better predictor of lung cancer than self-reported smoking status, which might be correct in some groups but because it is not a causal factor, may be useless in others, such as populations with different dietary patterns or dental care. Imagine an algorithm designed to avoid overtreatment of cancer by withholding further treatment from patients who are predicted to die in a short interval. Let us suppose that those with historically poorer survival are from certain minority populations. If this survival were somehow biologically determinedfor example, if resistance to therapy were related to the genetics of their tumorsthen withdrawal of ineffective treatment might be appropriate. Differential outcomes by race or protected class are not ipso facto unfair if they arise from unalterable biologic differences. However, if poorer survival is the result of suboptimal treatment decisions for such groups in the past, then withholding such therapy would indeed be unfair. That distinction, however, requires understanding why survival was poor; failing to understand the underlying mechanism is bad science and may lead to poor predictions, poor decisions, and poor outcomes. Another possibility is that poor survival, even with therapy, is poor because of factors like poor adherence, inability to afford transportation for follow-up visits, suboptimal home care, or poor nutrition. Understanding whether such factors affect prognosisa major focus of health care disparity researchis critical to determining whether the algorithm provides ethically actionable predictions. This is the kind of knowledge that the oversight suggested by Rajkomar and colleagues would be expected to provide. One might fairly say that requiring an understanding of the causal pathway between predictors and outcomes would vitiate the power of machine-learning techniques. However, medicine has a time-tested method for evaluating interventions whose causal mechanism we understand poorly: randomized trials. In the end, the ultimate test for any intervention is that more people are better off with than without it. To achieve distributive justice, we would add the requirement that some benefit accrue to all identifiable groups, particularly protected ones, and that harm to one subset is not being offset by benefits to another. This is the ultimate test of the fairness of algorithmically driven care, which also links to the goals of precision medicine. To achieve this, the only solution is to apply to artificial intelligence algorithms the very thing they are designed to supersedehuman intelligence.
Subfields: General Health Professions, Health Informatics, Public Health, Environmental and Occupational Health, Causal Inference & Discovery, AI Ethics, Fairness & Society, Medical & Health AI
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Citations in the corpus
- Racial disparities in automated speech recognition (2020, background): “…a problem that has recently come to light in several other advancing applications of machine learning, such as face recognition (5, 6), natural language processing (7–11), online advertising (12, 13), and risk prediction in criminal justice (14–17), healthcare (18, 19), and child services (20, 21).”
- Adaptive Sampling Strategies to Construct Equitable Training Datasets (2022, background): “Machine learning models like this—as well as related models in natural language processing, healthcare, criminal justice, and beyond—have been shown to exhibit sharp disparities, often performing worse on subgroups of the population defined by race, ethnicity, gender, language, and nationality [9, 1”