The Genetic Asset Class

The Genetic Asset Class

Alex:
Hey. Remember when I got Dad that 23andMe kit for his birthday?

Jordan:
The year he stopped talking about the Battle of the Bulge and started talking about Neanderthal alleles? Yeah.

Alex (gesturing at the laptop):
Well, uh… bad news.
23andMe went bankrupt. They're selling off assets.
Including ... Dad’s DNA.

Jordan:
Wait. They’re selling people’s genetic data? That’s the asset?

Alex:
Yup. Fifteen million genomes. Chapter 11 says: servers, office chairs, and the literal building blocks of human identity.

Jordan:
What happened to that “you own your data” stuff?

Alex:
Turns out “own” meant “until we reorganize in bankruptcy and auction your chromosomes to the highest bidder.”

Jordan (reading from phone):
“Your data may be transferred in the event of a merger, acquisition, or liquidation.”
How is that even legal?

Alex:
Because in the U.S., your spit becomes a corporate asset the second it hits a plastic funnel.
HIPAA doesn’t apply. There’s no federal genetic privacy law. It’s just... vibes.

Jordan:
Didn’t they have a huge data breach last year?

Alex:
Yeah. Credential-stuffing attack. Millions of profiles accessed. They downplayed it. Then tanked.
Now some hedge fund could end up with a full copy of our family genome.

Jordan:
Can we at least get royalties when they develop “GoutOut™” based on Dad’s foot genes?

Alex:
No, but we can email customer service and beg them to delete the data.

Jordan:
That’ll work. Everyone knows bankrupt companies are great at honoring deletion requests.

Alex (typing):
They’ve got a form. It’s in Account Settings → Delete Your Data and Account.
Then you email them: “Please erase the essence of my father from your records. Thanks.”


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