Stephen Meer, chief information officer from ANDE, demonstrates in Chico,...

Stephen Meer, chief information officer from ANDE, demonstrates in Chico, Calif., his company's Rapid DNA analysis system, which is being used to try to ID victims of the Northern California wildfire in this photo taken November 16, 2018 Credit: AP/Sudhin Thanawala

The federal government aggressively supports the effort through funding and legislation as it hopes to expand the coverage of its national DNA databank. The appeal of speedy DNA results is understandable, particularly where crime labs can be backlogged by many months.

Yet as coverage of the police rollout of these devices makes clear, the advent of Rapid DNA introduces many concerns. We lack much meaningful oversight of forensic science or police technology in this country. These machines are unvalidated. They use proprietary technology, so that no one, least of all the people using them, knows precisely how they work. They make errors and destroy samples, but we do not know how often.

And yet they are still being introduced at police stations around the country. Quick and dirty forensic tests will inevitably cause criminal cases to go terribly wrong: innocent people may be convicted.

Additionally, the police officers who operate these magic boxes are not necessarily trained on how to collect DNA or test it properly. They are not trained scientists working at a crime lab, and may not operate under quality controls. “I barely need a pulse to use this instrument,” a detective in Bensalem, Pennsylvania, told The New York Times. He explained that he had a few hours of training from the manufacturer.

While testing a single swab from a person can be simple, these machines cannot interpret crime scene DNA samples, which can contain DNA mixtures from an unknown number of people. The few studies done of these machines have suggested high error rates, including the capability to destroy samples.

We have seen this time and time again when new portable technology is rolled out without validation or regulation. Take the story of a Tampa Bay woman who had run out of gas. When a police officer arrived, he saw pills in the car and suspected drugs, even though she insisted they were vitamins. He conducted a field test using a chemical kit, which identified them as oxycodone pills. She was charged with drug trafficking, languishing in jail for five months before the state crime lab did additional tests and found they were, in fact, vitamins.

Hers was far from an isolated case. Hundreds of wrongful convictions have come to light around the country involving field drug tests. In Harris County, Texas, an audit by the prosecutor’s Conviction Integrity Unit uncovered 456 cases in which field drug tests gave erroneous results, and the convictions in those cases were all reversed. In 2016, the Texas Forensic Science Commission said these field tests are too unreliable to use in criminal cases and should always be followed up with lab tests.

Many police departments are doing just that with Rapid DNA: conducting a field test, but then sending evidence to a crime lab for a more involved check. Others may not do so. Indeed, the National District Attorney’s Association has said it opposes the use of Rapid DNA machines except by experienced DNA analysts at accredited crime labs.

We badly need rules to validate these types of magic boxes. We need more commissions like the one in Texas to put a stop to error-prone technology used by untrained people. Unless new forensic technology is validated and regulated, the result will be lost evidence, the guilty going free, and the innocent getting jailed.

 Brandon Garrett is professor of law at Duke University School of Law. He is the author, most recently, of “End of its Rope: How Killing the Death Penalty Can Revive Criminal Justice.”