Works reviewed in this month's column:
President's Council on Bioethics, Beyond Therapy
Brent Waters and Ronald Cole-Turner, eds., God and the
Embryo
Matt Ridley, Genome
BEYOND THERAPY: Biotechnology and the Pursuit of
Happiness
A Report by the President's Council on Bioethics (New
York: HarperCollins
Publishers [ReganBooks], 2003), 328pp.
[1] The President's Council on Bioethics was created by
President George W. Bush in November, 2001 to advise the President
on bioethical issues related to advances in biomedical science and
technology. In a preface written by the chairman of the
council, Leon R. Kass, M.D., this volume is described as an ethical
inquiry rather than a research report, making no claims to being an
exhaustive study. It's more of a distillation (at least in
part) of the council's thinking in an effort "to clarify the
relevant scientific possibilities, and especially, to explore the
ethical and social implications of using biotechnical powers for
purposes beyond therapy." (xx) The report is actually quite
remarkable in that it doesn't follow the pattern of commission
reports, which typically come up with recommendations following a
weighty consideration of pros and cons. It is more of an
invitation to reflect on ethical issues raised by the developments
in biotechnology; its purpose is educational.
[2] In carrying out this purpose, I believe the council deserves
high marks for presenting the public with a highly readable,
thoughtful, and stimulating work; it should be widely read and
discussed. There has been some discontent on the council over
the conservative nature of its chairman, Leon Kass, and its
membership, reflected in an indirect way in the statement issued by
three of its members as a preface to a new edition of the
report. That statement encourages the reader to have an open
mind, noting that the treatment of several possible developments in
biotechnology may well deserve a more positive interpretation than
the one presented in the report. While that case can be made,
I believe the concerns expressed are worthy of thoughtful
reflection by our citizens and should stimulate an ongoing
discussion in both church and society.
[3] By "beyond therapy" the authors are referring to those
well-intentioned and strictly voluntary uses of biomedical
technology that go beyond its intended therapeutic use. What
has the council's attention is the intent to improve on a person's
capacities, or those of one's children. It is the pursuit of
improvements or perfections in "body, mind, performance, or sense
of well-being" that we all understandably desire as human beings -
the yearning to broaden our capacities and achievements in the
quest for a fully satisfying life. While acknowledging the
optimism of those who welcome the new possibilities introduced by
biotechnology, this report is motivated by a sense of deep
uneasiness about the ethical and social implications of these
developments. To pose the issue in overly dramatic terms, the
question is whether we have reason to welcome efforts to "remake
Eden," moving humanity into an exciting "post-human future," or
whether we are poised to enter a diminished world that appears
closer to the one portrayed in Aldous Huxley's novel, Brave New
World. This volume is concerned that the latter possibility
is more likely; it constitutes an urgent call for society to do
some serious thinking about the direction we're headed.
[4] In structuring its report, the council devotes the first
chapter to a thoughtful, nuanced effort to define biotechnology and
to describe the intricacies involved in the distinction between
therapy and enhancement. This involves such notions as
"health" and "normalcy," which are notoriously difficult to
define. With the expanded definition of health issued by the
World Health Organization ("a state of complete physical, mental
and social well-being"), it's easy to see how virtually any
intervention aimed at enhancement could be seen as promoting one's
health, thus qualifying as "therapeutic." The effort to
overcome one's limitations, whatever they may be, is inherent to
the human quest, justifying most any desire to improve one's
condition if the means are
available.
[5] The next four chapters are devoted respectively to improving
our children, enhancing our performance, extending the human
life-span, and achieving a more happy mood and disposition ("happy
souls") through pharmacological means. Each of these chapters
concludes with an ethical and social analysis. The sixth and
final chapter is devoted to general reflections in which the
sources of concern for the council are spelled out, together with a
summary conclusion. In the paragraphs that follow, I will
lift up some dominant themes from each of these chapters and
conclude with observations on the general thrust of the report.
[6] While acknowledging the speculative and exaggerated
character of many predictions about what the future will bring
through genetic engineering, the authors take seriously the
prospect of increasing genetic control on the part of parents over
their offspring. Technical possibilities include the ability
to screen embryos and gametes for the presence or absence of
specific genetic markers, and the ability to obtain and introduce
such genetic material in order to "improve" genetic quality.
In theory at least, prospective parents can "screen out" the bad,
"choose in" the good, and "fix up" what needs to be redesigned -
the last of these being mere fantasy at this point. And yet,
preimplantation genetic diagnosis has already been used to
pre-select the sex of a child and presumably will, over the years,
be used to identify more and more traits, both desirable and
undesirable. The council echoes the oft-repeated apprehension
that a perfectionist mentality is developing that will exert
increasing pressure on prospective parents, holding them
accountable for securing children who are "genetically
fit."
[7] The authors also focus on a subject that has been a point of
increasing public concern: Improving the behavior of children
through the use of psychotropic drugs. Parents may
justifiably want children who are more well-adjusted, well-behaved,
and high-performing, but fulfilling these expectations through the
dispensing of drugs raises serious questions about the nature of
responsible parenting as well as the development of character in
the child. Artificial enhancement can improve a child's
abilities and performance, but it does so in a way that separates
achievement from the effort of achieving. It sends the child
a confusing message about the meaning of performance, with "too
little emphasis on the integrity of genuine ability and unaugmented
merit." (93) The substantial increase in the use of drugs by
children (overall use tripling during the 1990s, in many cases
approaching adult rates) may well endanger the appropriate
"childishness" of childhood for the sake of producing "better
children." There is much solid reflection here that raises
significant philosophical questions about parenting and the nature
of childhood.
[8] Superior performance expresses the idea of excellent human
activity, a noble aspiration that is central to our humanity and
underlies human achievement in myriad ways. The authors note
the impact of drugs intended to enhance performance, whether
steroids in the intensely competitive world of athletics, or
Ritalin to improve one's concentration, or Viagra to enhance one's
sexual performance, and many more. The present scene, indeed,
is but "a small preview of coming attractions." Questions to
be raised are whether these performance enhancers compromise the
dignity of human activity, raising issues of identity ("Is the
enhanced person still fully me, and are my achievements still fully
mine?") as well as implications for society should such uses of
biotechnology become widespread. It is one thing to improve
oneself through self-disciplined, persistent training; it is quite
another to use chemical means that work "magical" wonders at the
molecular level to give oneself that competitive edge. The
central question becomes whether an intervention is consistent with
"our flourishing as active, self-aware, self-directed agents," or
whether in some way it makes our performance false, or less than
our own. (131)
[9] The issue of living within our created limitations is
nowhere more dramatically raised than in the realm of human
mortality - the ultimate limitation. Scientists have achieved
some success in prolonging lifespans in several animal species,
raising the prospect of eventually doing the same with human
beings. While the idea of human immortality, or "ageless
bodies," has been around a long time, the more serious possibility
posed by biotechnology is the retardation of senescence, or the
aging process, which would result in more vigorous lives over a
longer period of time and corresponding extension of the
lifespan. The council notes some targeted techniques in
slowing specific disabilities in aging (muscle and memory
enhancement), as well as more general, body-wide techniques, such
as caloric restriction, genetic manipulation, prevention of
oxidative damage, and methods of treating the ailments of the aged
(the latter including hormone treatments and telomere
research).
[10] Since the desire for a longer life holds powerful sway in
society, it may simply overwhelm any possible qualms or
reservations. The council is concerned to raise those
reservations, both at the individual and societal level, and in
doing so it demonstrates considerable thoughtfulness in probing the
psychological and sociological dimensions of a significantly
lengthened lifespan. At the individual level these include
the impact it would have upon our aspirations and achievements, our
having children and attitudes toward them, our attitudes toward
death and mortality, and the meaning of the life cycle. At
the societal level it would raise questions about family life and
the relations between generations, the way in which innovation,
change and renewal occur, and the impact of an aging society.
Much of this material is of course speculative, but the authors do
not shy away from addressing some fundamental philosophical issues
at the conclusion of this chapter. "Is there an optimal human
lifespan and an ideal contour of a human life? If so, does it
resemble our historical lifespan (as framed and constrained by
natural limits)?" (198) We are forced to ask what the meaning
of aging is - a disease to be mastered and corrected, or part of
the contour and constraint of natural life "which serve as a lens
for a larger vision that might give all of life coherence and
sustaining significance?" (200) Are we better off with "more
perfect and ageless bodies," or is it our very imperfection "that
gives rise to our deepest longings and our greatest
accomplishments?"
[11] As with performance enhancers, the chapter on "happy souls"
raises the question of personal identity. The prospect of
drug-induced happiness is a phenomenon already well underway, but
it poses a serious threat to personal identity if we believe that
true happiness is intimately connected with our personhood - the
interaction of mind and heart, over a lifetime. Since memory
is indispensable to personal identity, the authors consider the
prospect of "memory-numbing" drugs intended to remove crippling
memories, but now used in non-clinical settings for the purpose of
enhancing one's sense of well-being. This practice encourages
the notion that happiness is attained in the temporary brightening
of one's mood and creating a happier disposition. It also
threatens to change the way people understand the events of their
own lives and the realities of the world around
them.
[12] A prominent dimension of this discussion is the presence of
pain and suffering in human life, and how best to address
them. The council does not want to glorify suffering in
itself, and certainly not gratuitous suffering, but it does want to
insist on the importance of the capacity to suffer when suffering
is called for. To remove ourselves pharmacologically from the
highs and lows of real life, "we may risk coming to love feebly or
to care shallowly, losing the fine texture of emotional and psychic
life and weakening our appreciation for the very human attachments
that make life most meaningful." (257) Thus we cannot ignore
the fact that life's hardships often make us better, or that
discontent with oneself can be the spur to self-improvement.
We are in danger of medicalizing our normal emotions and
temperaments, a form of reductionism that comes with considerable
cost. If we reconceive sadness as sickness, for example, we
empty it of psychic or spiritual significance.
[13] The emotional ideal, for the council, is clearly not the
idea of "perpetual bliss," which runs the danger of misreading and
isolating oneself from the real world. In its closing
observations, the authors suggest that to avoid self-absorption and
the pursuit of happiness through pharmacology, we should turn
outward and away from the healthy mind to the good
society. The engaged life that enters into ties that
bind and give shape to one's true identity is a fitting alternative
to the solipsistic, self-engaged life preoccupied with personal
happiness. This is not to deny the important service that
pharmacology provides for those struggling with emotional and
physical burdens, but it can neither define true happiness nor
bestow it.
[14] In summary, there are four considerations that run
throughout this report: "[A]ppreciation of and respect for
what is 'naturally given,' threatened by hubris; the
dignity of human activity, threatened by 'unnatural' means; the
preservation of identity, threatened by efforts at
self-transformation; and full human flourishing, threatened by
spurious or shallow substitutes." (287) Another way of
expressing the major thrust of this report is the importance,
through education, of finding and preserving boundaries that would
save us from both excess and error in view of the possibilities
offered by the biotechnical revolution. This is a subject
that obviously warrants intense interest on the part of theological
ethicists; rarely have technological developments raised so
directly such pressing questions of human identity and destiny, and
with such momentous ethical implications for the individual and
society as a whole. We are indebted to the council for
presenting an unusually thoughtful response to these developments,
and I hope it will constitute a significant stimulus toward a
meaningful national dialogue. The overall stance it assumes
may lack a measure of appropriate optimism, but that is a judgment
that remains to be seen. There is no question that the
concerns it expresses are real and worthy of our attention.
GOD AND THE EMBRYO: Religious Voices on Stem Cells
and Cloning
Edited by Brent Waters and Ronald Cole-Turner (Washington, D.C.:
Georgetown University Press, 2003), 228pp.
[15] This volume could well serve as a text of readings in a
theological ethics class addressing biotechnology issues, and
specifically the ongoing debate on embryonic stem cell
research. Two public events - a research colloquy at
Garrett-Evangelical Theological Seminary in Evanston, Illinois and
a panel discussion sponsored by the Pew Forum on Religion and
Public Life in Washington, D.C. - provide the basis for the
book. In addition to articles by the ten contributing
scholars, there is a helpful appendix featuring official statements
on stem cell research and cloning from both Christian and Jewish
bodies, together with a statement drawn up by a group of Christian
theologians in England representing the Anglican, Catholic,
Orthodox and Reformed traditions.
[16] The book is divided into three sections entitled
"Frameworks," "Embryos," and "Research," but weaving throughout the
volume is the critical theme of the moral status of the
embryo. Directly addressing this subject, a particularly
helpful essay by Gene Outka (originally appearing in the
Kennedy Institute of Ethics Journal [2002]) seeks a middle
position between a conservative and liberal perspective that he
associates, respectively, with Richard Doerflinger and John
Robertson. He identifies the conservative view as one that
rejects categorically any research on embryos because it is
destructive of innocent life, while the liberal view insists that
the goal of healing diseases justifies the creation of embryos as a
means toward achieving that goal. Outka agrees with
conservatives that there is an inherent value to life beginning
with conception, which leads him to reject the creation of embryos
that will be disaggregated, and thereby destroyed, in order to
serve a healing purpose. That end does not justify the means
of creating and destroying embryos specifically for that
purpose.
[17] At the same time, Outka does not believe this stance
necessitates the conservative conclusion that embryonic research is
forbidden "across the board." Utilizing the moral principle
of "nothing is lost," which he adopts from Paul Ramsey, admittedly
giving it an extended meaning in this context, he argues that the
moral status of embryos that are frozen and shelved and destined to
be destroyed (an estimated 400,000 of them, resulting from in vitro
fertilization) allows for their being disaggregated for a moral
purpose. Since they will be destroyed anyway, "nothing is
lost" if they are destroyed in order to heal others. The
critical distinction Outka makes in regard to the liberal position
is that there is a moral difference between creating new life with
the intention of destroying it, and employing that life,
now devoid of its potentiality because it will not be implanted,
for a noble end.
[18] A question that logically arises is whether Outka is not
morally compelled to challenge the practice of IVF clinics in
creating more embryos than are needed in dealing with their
infertile clients. If there is inherent value to embryonic
life, should there not be more stringent regulation of the practice
of IVF in order to avoid the continuing increase (now estimated at
some 10,000 per year) of frozen embryos, relatively few of which
will ever be implanted? At the close of his article Outka
does confess his "disquiet" over this situation and acknowledges
that "far more critical and skeptical appraisals of the practices
presently in place" is called for, but does not pursue this
point. "One need not approve of how the situation was created
in order to judge that it is better to save some than none when
those who die would die anyway." The use of discarded embryos for
research is thus "morally tolerable, and no more." This brief
survey of Outka's argument doesn't do justice to the extended
analysis and rich nuance that it displays; I find his attempt to
identify middle ground between liberal and conservative positions
generally persuasive.
[19] In addition to Outka and the two editors, contributors to
this volume include James C. Peterson, Robert Song, Ted Peters and
Gaymon Bennett, Kevin T. Fitzgerald, S.J., Laurie Zoloth, and
Sondra Wheeler. There is diversity in viewpoint and variety
in religious affiliation among the authors, with both Protestant
and Roman Catholic (Fitzgerald) representation as well as Jewish
(Zoloth). There is unanimous rejection of embryonic cloning
for the purpose of giving birth to a baby possessing the genome of
another person; the issue is stem cell research for the purpose of
healing people with genetic diseases. Where human life from
conception is equated with personhood, the end goal of healing
through the destruction of persons (no matter how primitive or
undeveloped their state) would have to be rejected. The issue
becomes whether a developmental view of human origins is morally
appropriate, so that critical distinctions can be made in the value
that early nascent life possesses in contrast to the life of
persons in relationship. The difference between the two is obvious
enough; the question is whether that difference allows for
disaggregating and therefore destroying embryos in order to heal
people with genetic disease.
[20] I have argued elsewhere that even if one does not equate
the value of embryonic life with that of people in society, thereby
refusing to equate the destruction of embryos with murder, there
still remains the question whether the continuing, systematic
destruction of embryonic life in the long run would not cheapen the
value of human life in the public mind. Is this a practice
that we can or ought to live with, indefinitely? I don't
believe so, but with Outka I think there is an alternative in using
embryos already in existence whose future is closed. The goal
of healing people that motivates stem cell research constitutes an
imperative that must be taken seriously, justifying the use of
embryos destined for destruction. While the opposing
positions here can be seen as deontological conflicts between the
obligation to save life in it earliest form to saving life
threatened by disease, a corresponding consequentialist argument is
often made. Those opposed to therapeutic stem cell research
are more likely to be pessimistic about prospects for its success,
while those who support it are more likely to be optimistic.
These two attitudes are seen, respectively, in the essays by
Fitzgerald and Zoloth.
[21] The essay by Peters and Bennett is particularly notable in
challenging the archonic framework of the debate over stem cell
research, which focuses on the origins of life and the moral status
of the embryo in light of its development. Lifting up an
eschatological approach rooted in Christian theology, the authors
argue on behalf of a future-oriented anthropology that finds the
value of human beings in their destiny rather than in their origin.
The archonic approach (as seen in Roman Catholicism, for example)
begins from creation rather than redemption, and consequently
misses the relational dimension that Christian anthropology
involves; it misses the vision of Jesus who sees humanity in terms
of what it is becoming as a result of God's love. Who we are
is established through relationships, reflecting the love of God
and the imperative that we love our neighbor in the spirit of
agape. Thus human dignity itself cannot be
understood apart from relationships that make us who we
are.
[22] The authors argue that what this means for the stem cell
debate and for bioethics in general is that the principle of
beneficence should play the decisive role in arriving at our moral
judgments. Beneficence begins with God's healing purpose in
the world and is foundational for all ethics. Thus the basic
question is whether biomedical technology can be "pressed into the
service of healing and human well-being." (125) There is a
foundational shift here from stressing the evil of maleficence and
the need to protect embryonic life, to emphasizing beneficence and
the obligation to heal suffering and diseased people. This
goal persuades the authors, contrary to Outka and my own thinking,
that the creation of embryos specifically for the purpose of
therapeutic stem cell research is morally acceptable. Thus
the possibility of pursuing other avenues, such as research with
adult stem cells, is not regarded with the same moral
urgency.
[23] While this focus on the realm of human beings in
relationship rather than embryonic life is certainly appropriate in
defining human identity and dignity, it leaves the authors with the
question that won't go away: Where does our moral
responsibility begin in regard to embryonic life? For the
authors the appropriate phrasing of this question is, When do we
believe God's concern for a person's eschatological destiny
begins? Their answer, on the basis of what we know about
embryonic development and the process of individuation, is that the
fourteen-day rule is more persuasive than arguments for
conception. But unlike archonic reasoning, this is not a
foundational thesis but a kind of "subpremise within the larger
beneficence framework."
[24] While I agree in principle with the focus on
life-in-relationship, my Lutheran instincts resist the rationale of
Peters and Bennett in developing their Christian anthropology on
the basis of Second Article theology - proceeding from redemption
rather than creation, from gospel rather than law. This
approach removes the capacity to meet the non-Christian on common
ground in addressing the urgent moral issues of the day, including
issues of human dignity. At the same time, our Lutheran
tendency toward antithesis rather than synthesis has not always
served us well; over the past century we have experienced the
inadequacy of absolutizing the difference between law and gospel
and related themes of Christian theology. In regard to our
topic here, I would emphasize the character of futurity and hope
that is inherent to the nature of humanity itself, and which the
gospel of Jesus Christ further elaborates and clarifies in
revealing our resurrection destiny. We are social beings by
nature, destined for relationships in which the meaning and purpose
of existence is realized. Thus we appropriately make a
distinction in the weight and value of embryonic and prenatal life
compared to life in society. Our duties toward a blastocyst,
while requiring respect that leads to laws and regulations that
govern and even limit scientific research, are still quite
different from our duties toward one another.
GENOME: The Autobiography of a Species in 23
Chapters
By Matt Ridley (New York: HarperCollins, 2000), 344pp.
[25] Matt Ridley is a journalist with a unique ability to
interpret scientific subject matter for the lay reader. A
former science editor, Washington correspondent, and U. S. editor
for The Economist, he is the author of several engaging works that
address the juncture of biology and human nature. In this
book he turns his attention to the Human Genome Project and
specifically to the mapping of the twenty-three pairs of
chromosomes that make up the human genome. But his approach
is remarkable in that he treats the genome as a sort of
autobiography in its own right, lifting up a gene from each
chromosome and relating it to a theme of human nature. What
the reader gets is a tour of some interesting sites in the genome
and what they tell us about ourselves. Ridley acknowledges that we
cannot reduce human nature to a genetic code, but he wants us to
sense the mystery of our genes and share in the fast-moving journey
on which we have embarked as scientists unveil some of that
mystery.
[26] While this book is fairly recent (the first edition
appeared in England in 1999), it reminds us of the rapid pace of
genetic knowledge in that it is already less than accurate in some
of its data. For example, it has become clear since its
appearance that the number of genes in the human genome is nowhere
near the 80-to-100,000 that geneticists have believed, but closer
to 30,000. And the confidence with which Ridley describes the
operation of specific genes would not be shared by many in the
scientific community. Indeed, his uniting of genes with such
concepts as intelligence, conflict, self-interest, memory,
politics, and free will, among others, would strike many as
inviting misunderstanding about the genome. Nonetheless, the
final accomplishment in terms of information and understanding
conveyed by his book is remarkable.
[27] The first chapters trace the remote origins of our species,
pointing out that the unity of all life was empirically established
with the cracking of the genetic code in the 1960's - "seaweed is
your distant cousin and anthrax one of your advanced
relatives." There is no bone in the chimpanzee body that we
do not share, no known chemical in his brain that cannot be found
in the human brain. Some two percent of the genome differs
between humans and chimpanzees, and how the difference between
these two species is generated is still far from clear, but that
genes are responsible is not in doubt. It is not just the
presence of genes that we share with creation that is important,
but what human genes do that seems to make all the
difference. Ridley's weaving of history and genetics forms a
fascinating story of discovery which is clearly far from over.
[28] The subject of intelligence and its genetic base poses a
particularly formidable topic for Ridley, but he attacks it with
considerable self-confidence. It was on chromosome 6, in
1997, that "a brave or perhaps foolhardy scientist" announced that
he had located a gene "for intelligence." One of the obvious
problems that such a claim raises is the fact that there is no
accepted definition of intelligence; IQ tests, while clearly
measuring something, are also biased toward certain kinds of minds.
Ridley concludes that if we take into account all the testing that
has been done in this area, including those on sets of twins and
adoptees, the evidence is strong for the heritability of the causes
of intelligence. After some discussion Ridley concludes that
"about half of your IQ was inherited, and less than a fifth was due
to the environment you shared with your siblings - the
family." And yet, because we select the environments that
suit our innate tendencies, genetic influences are not frozen at
conception but continue to grow. Heritability does not mean
immutability, nor does it signal determinism. Ridley
concludes that some genes must influence IQ, but that some must be
variable - they exist in different versions in different
people. The overall result, it appears, is that any attempt
to identify individual genes with a trait like intelligence is
bound to be so qualified that the quest itself appears
problematic.
[29] The chapter on immortality begins with a discussion of a
gene called TEPi which produces a protein that forms part of "a
most unusual little biochemical machine called telomerase."
Without getting into the intricacies of chromosome tips and
telomeres, the lack of telomerase seems to be the principal reason
that cells grow old and die; the question is whether this is the
principal reason for the aging of our bodies. Few experts now
believe this is the case, since the things we associate with aging
- cancer, muscle weakness, tendon stiffness, changes in skin
elasticity, the graying of hair - have nothing to do with cells
failing to duplicate themselves. The process of evolution may
provide more insight into aging, where each species seems to come
equipped with a program of planned obsolescence suited to its
expected life-span. Once again, it is not a matter of a gene
that controls aging, but many. One estimate is that there are
some 7,000 age-influencing genes in the human genome. Aging
involves the more or less simultaneous deterioration of many
different bodily systems, according to an evolutionary logic that
governs each species. Thus Ridley takes a dim view of the
prospect envisioned by some, that the human lifespan can be
lengthened indefinitely.
[30] The all-too-brief sketches of the above two chapters reveal
both the strength and weakness of this volume. The chapter
headings are provocative in suggesting too much in terms of what
particular genes are responsible for in the complex make-up of the
human being. At the same time, Ridley avoids the
oversimplifications that this association of traits with genes
creates. In each chapter he steers the discussion to the more
nuanced, complex picture provided by genetics, generally resulting
in a responsible overall picture of the subject under
discussion. Moreover, he accomplishes this with not only
imaginative allusions and engaging language, but with a wealth of
background material that enables him to reach into many esoteric
corners and come out with interesting and often surprising
information and insights. He ranges from genetics to
anthropology to philosophy, providing the reader with a rich
prospectus on the meaning and significance of what we are learning
today from genetics and molecular biology.
[31] In these final three paragraphs I'll venture a few words
about the road we have traveled over the past year. The books
we have reviewed - some 14, plus an article - have ranged from
scientific works written by geneticists and molecular biologists
(Gregory Stock, John Campbell, Ruth Hubbard, David Resnik), to
works of philosophers and historians of science assessing the
larger meaning of developments in genetics (Leon Kass, Phillip
Kitcher, Gordon Graham, Evelyn Fox Keller), to works by free-lance
journalists who have interpreted developments in genetics to the
literate public (Bryan Appleyard, Matt Ridley), to Christian
theologians/ethicists who have brought theological and ethical
concerns to bear (Robert Song, Susan Brooks Thistlethwaite, Brent
Waters, Ronald Cole-Turner and others), as well as several groups
(the editors of Scientific American, the President's
Council on Bioethics). The range of viewpoint among these
authors has been considerable, from those who are supremely
optimistic, waxing eloquent over the prospects for creating a
"post-human" world through genetic engineering, to those who are
vigorously critical of that prospect, to those who are primarily
cautious but open to possible developments that are now difficult
to foresee. For theologians/ethicists such concerns as
overreaching our limits (hubris), affirming the continuity
of humanity with creation, repudiating genetic reductionism, and
resisting the mindset of "quality control" generated by extensive
genetic screening have all been expressed.
[32] The potential goods as well as harms that genetic
engineering poses are sufficiently serious, wide-ranging, and
ambiguous as to create considerable disagreement as well as
uncertainty among Christians and their churches. The
theological resources that Christianity brings to bear concerning
this topic can actually lead us in opposing directions. A
strong sense of structure and design, rooted in the divine will and
expressed in natural law tradition, leads one to oppose any
"tinkering" with the human condition; it becomes an expression of
hubris, or human defiance of divine limitations. On
the other hand, the notion that we are "co-creators" with God in
fashioning the human future, that our destiny as creatures
fashioned in the image of God does not leave us passive but active
in shaping our destiny, encourages a more open stance to changes in
the human condition that promise a more humane existence.
What direction should we take?
[33] On a matter as momentous as this one, the attitude of
caution would appear to be the essence of responsibility. The
progress of scientific knowledge is not a straight line that
enables us to clearly anticipate future developments.
Unintended consequences can derail the train of scientific progress
at any time; we often become the victims not only of our own
ignorance, but of our inability and often unwillingness to see the
full picture with all of its implications for human
wellbeing. As an initial step, I believe the President's
Council on Bioethics has set out an agenda for the American public
that deserves our earnest attention. Its report, reviewed
above, enables the public to inform itself on pertinent
developments in biotechnology, a prerequisite to intelligent
perspective and decision making. At the same time, churches
should feel obligated to focus on this topic with the help of its
theologians and ethicists, where dialogue enables us to arrive at
fitting responses in light of the church's wisdom. We will
not achieve consensus, but our faith gives us confidence that
dialogue in the presence of God will serve God's purposes and the
mission of the church. This in turn will make a contribution
to the capacity of the American public to address more adequately
the challenge of biotechnology.
© August 2004
Journal of Lutheran Ethics (JLE)
Volume 4, Issue 8