For generations, a second opinion on a biopsy has meant carrying glass slides from one office to another, a slow and analog habit that persists even now. At Northwestern University's Feinberg School of Medicine, researchers in the Cooper Lab are turning those slides into digital images that machines can read, searching for patterns in tissue that a human eye, working across a million cells at once, cannot easily hold. Their aim is not to displace the pathologist but to extend what one person can see, at a moment when the nation has too few specialists and too many samples waiting. Whether thes
Inside the Algorithms: How AI Is Reshaping Pathology, From Digital Slides to Bias-Aware Diagnosis
Glass slides are often carried between offices by hand
Why does a story about scanning glass slides matter?
Because the slide is the bottleneck. Once it's an image, it can be shared instantly and analyzed by algorithms. Northwestern Medicine alone produces about 2 million slides a year.
And the algorithms see something people can't?
They handle scale. An image can hold a million cells, and measuring that precisely is hard for a person. Nateghi hopes they'll catch subtle changes in prostate cancer too.
Careful there. "Hopes" is the right word. The article gives researchers' aims, not results showing better outcomes.
Fair. What are the limits they name themselves?
Cooper says the models run on correlation, not causal understanding, so rare cases they've never seen are a weak spot. He says they shouldn't be trusted implicitly.
What about bias?
Chillrud says models inherit their training data's biases. If it's mostly affluent white patients, it does worse for others. His uncertainty tools are meant to flag that.
Worth noting those tools are being developed. The piece doesn't say they work yet or are in clinical use.
And when might any of this reach ordinary hospitals?
Cooper isn't sure. FDA clearance, scarce high-quality data, and uneven digitization all stand in the way.
Right, and the rural benefit is a plausible possibility, not something demonstrated.
Le Pouls
- Biopsy slides still travel by hand between offices, a bottleneck that slows second opinions and strains a thin workforce.
- The United States faces a shortage of pathologists while Northwestern Medicine alone produces roughly 2 million glass slides a year.
- AI models screen out obvious cases and flag difficult ones, trying to route the hardest work to specialists faster.
- Researchers warn that these models rely on correlation, can absorb bias from their training data, and often sound more certain than they should.
- Uncertainty tools are being built to flag probable errors, but adoption hinges on FDA clearance, validated data, and hospital digitization, with rural access the quiet test.
For generations, a second opinion on a biopsy has meant carrying glass slides from one office to another, a slow and analog habit that persists even now. At Northwestern University's Feinberg School of Medicine, researchers in the Cooper Lab are turning those slides into digital images that machines can read, searching for patterns in tissue that a human eye, working across a million cells at once, cannot easily hold. Their aim is not to displace the pathologist but to extend what one person can see, at a moment when the nation has too few specialists and too many samples waiting. Whether these tools will reach the small hospitals and rural clinics that need them most remains the open question of the story.
When a patient needs a second opinion on a biopsy, the tissue often still travels by hand, glass slides carried between offices so that more than one pathologist can examine them. In 2026 that remains a surprisingly analog routine, and it is the problem digital pathology aims to fix.
At Northwestern's Feinberg School of Medicine, Lee Cooper directs a computational pathology lab where slides are scanned into images that can be shared electronically and then analyzed by algorithms. The advantage is scale: a single image can hold a million cells or more, and measuring them precisely is very difficult for a person. Cooper hopes these tools will help pathologists reach more accurate diagnoses and help researchers understand how disease progressed in past patients.
The lab's work is varied. Fattaneh Pourakpour studies brain tissue donated by people who had dementia, building algorithms that separate gray and white matter and classify cells in search of biomarkers for Alzheimer's. Ramin Nateghi applies machine learning to prostate cancer, which often moves slowly and can look similar across biopsies taken decades apart, hoping the tools will catch subtle changes the eye misses. Lawrence Chillrud, facing a national shortage of pathologists set against heaps of biopsy data, is developing models that screen out the most obvious cases and flag others for fast-tracked review.
The team is clear that none of this replaces the doctor. The models find correlations without understanding cause, they are limited by their training data, and they struggle with rare cases they have never seen. Chillrud is building uncertainty tools to estimate how likely a prediction is to be right, since many models are overconfident. Such tools could also reveal bias, because a model trained mostly on one population will serve others poorly.
Adoption will not be quick. Tools need FDA clearance, validation on high-quality data, and scanning technology that not every health system has. The data load is enormous, with Northwestern's pathology producing about 3 petabytes a year. Still, Cooper finds encouragement in seeing scientists use these tools to connect tissue patterns to treatment outcomes. The question to watch is whether these advances reach smaller and rural hospitals, where specialists are hardest to find.
When a patient needs a second opinion on a biopsy, the tissue often travels by hand. Glass slides carrying biological material are carried from one office to another so that more than one pathologist can look at them. That is a surprisingly analog routine for 2026, and it is the problem that digital pathology is meant to solve.
Lee Cooper, director of computational pathology at Northwestern University's Feinberg School of Medicine, says digital imaging is becoming more common in the field. A sample of blood or tissue is placed on a glass slide, the slide goes into a scanner, and the scanner produces a digital image that can be shared electronically. Once a sample is digital, algorithms can review it too. Cooper runs a lab where researchers build those algorithms, and he expects them to help pathologists reach more accurate and more detailed diagnoses, and to help researchers understand how disease progressed in past patients. The advantage is scale: a single image can hold a million cells or more, and Cooper notes that measuring that precisely is very hard for a person.
Inside the Cooper Lab, researchers write algorithms, digitize specimens and analyze the resulting images, drawing on samples from ongoing studies as well as banked ones. Each person works on a particular data set or a specific problem pathologists face. Fattaneh Pourakpour, a Ph.D. student in electrical engineering, uses tissue from the Mesulam Institute for Cognitive Neurology and Alzheimer's Disease brain bank, which accepts brain donations from people who had dementia. Her segmentation algorithms separate regions such as gray and white matter, and her cell classifiers identify and categorize cell types within the gray matter. She is looking for biomarkers tied to Alzheimer's and other neurodegenerative disorders.
Post-doctoral researcher Ramin Nateghi, who holds a Ph.D. from Shiraz University of Technology in Iran, applies machine learning to prostate cancer. The disease often moves slowly, and he says biopsies taken over 25 years may show few visible differences. He hopes the tools can detect subtle changes that the human eye misses and help doctors make better decisions.
None of this is meant to replace pathologists. Cooper points to edge cases: the models rely on correlation, with no causal understanding inside them, so they are limited by their training data and less useful on a rare case they have never seen. Whether such models understand their subject deeply or only superficially remains an open question. Cooper still finds them useful for accurate, efficient predictions, since they can weigh far more properties of a sample than a doctor can, but he does not think they should be trusted implicitly.
The need is real. Cooper says pathology is by far the largest source of data in medicine, and the Northwestern Medicine system alone generates about 2 million glass slides a year. Lawrence Chillrud, a Ph.D. student in electrical engineering, describes a shortage of pathologists in the United States set against heaps of biopsy data awaiting review. His models run a preliminary screen, setting aside the most obvious cases and flagging others for fast-tracked specialist review. Similar tools could spread the hardest cases across a group of pathologists or move them early in the workflow, count particular cell types, point attention to important areas of a sample, or check a pathologist's report for errors.
Chillrud is also building uncertainty tools that estimate how likely a model's prediction is to be right. Many models, he says, are overconfident and give a false picture of how far they can be trusted. Such a tool would warn the pathologist when an error is probable. It could also limit bias: a model trained mostly on white, affluent patients from one part of a city, who tend to come to a given hospital, will predict less well for patients from other backgrounds, and an uncertainty flag can signal those gaps. The tools might also help smaller and rural systems, where specialists, such as someone qualified to give a detailed prostate biopsy read, are harder to find than in large city systems.
Cooper is unsure how fast adoption will come. Tools need FDA clearance and validation on very high-quality data that is hard to obtain, and not every health system has the scanning technology Northwestern does. The data load is heavy too: each image holds several billion pixels, and Northwestern's pathology would produce about 3 petabytes, or 3 million gigabytes, a year. Still, he is encouraged that scientists, not just tool developers, are using the tools to relate tissue patterns to outcomes such as treatment success. What to watch is whether clearance, validated data and wider digitization reach smaller hospitals.
Citations marquantes
I don't think they should be trusted implicitly.— Lee Cooper, director of computational pathology, Northwestern Feinberg School of Medicine
A lot of these models are overconfident, giving a false picture of how far their predictions can be trusted.— Lawrence Chillrud, Ph.D. student in electrical engineering, Northwestern (paraphrased)