The Legal Janitor

Science under moral microscope

By Roland Chia
May 22, 2006
The Straits Times

WE HAVE been witness to unprecedented advances in biotechnology that are likely to transform our way of life in fundamental ways. Biotechnology and medicine hold great promise. Take, for example, the enormous potential of human stem cell research, which offers the possibility of treating numerous degenerative ailments like heart disease, Alzheimer’s disease and Parkinson’s disease.

These great advances notwithstanding, not all developments are positive. Among those less positive are embryonic stem cell research, fetal tissue research, cloning, genetic engineering, genetic discrimination and eugenics.

While such developments are on the cutting edge of biotechnology, they are also on the leading edge of controversy.

Although biotechnology is in many respects an age-old science, the current biotech revolution distinguishes itself in that it develops new technologies that are aimed at creating, manipulating and controlling human life itself. To be sure, the main goal of these new technologies is to ‘make life better’. Much, however, depends on what this means.

At one level, this could refer to improving overall health and vitality by effectively treating diseases. But at another level, ‘to make life better’ could mean designing life or manufacturing humans with improved abilities. This understanding of the goal of biotechnology must surely be called to question.

Both, however, point to an underlying concern regarding biotechnology that has to do with our definition of human life. What does it mean to be human? And to whom do we choose to assign value?

Moral clarity on specific issues in biotechnology and medicine is very much dependent on our ability to answer profound questions such as these.

Moral confusion sometimes comes about because of the jargon used in biotechnology. For example, much of the literature on cloning makes the distinction between ‘therapeutic’ and ‘reproductive’ cloning. ‘Reproductive’ cloning refers to the creation of a complete human being. ‘Therapeutic’ cloning, on the other hand, refers to the creation of human embryos for the purpose of research only.

Such characterisations have led to the widely accepted view that while reproductive cloning should be banned, therapeutic cloning for research should be allowed.

But human cloning is, by definition, human asexual reproduction. All human cloning is therefore in fact reproductive, in that it creates (reproduces) a human being. Furthermore, both ‘reproductive’ and ‘therapeutic’ cloning use exactly the same method in creating the clone, and the cloned embryos are indistinguishable.

The only difference is the purpose for which the embryos are created. Moral reasoning on the issue of cloning has often been misled by these artificial categories. Once the obfuscating terms are removed, the issue becomes much clearer: the cloning of human beings, for whatever purpose, constitutes unethical human experimentation.

Moral clarity is also sometimes compromised by a technological determinism or fatalism that is becoming more prevalent in the current biotech revolution. ‘Technological determinism’ insists that because we have the technology to perform certain experiments, it is imperative that we do so.

An instance of technological determinism is chimera research, which involves combining human and nonhuman animals at the genetic or cellular level. Examples: Researchers at Stanford are working on a project to inject neural stem cells into mouse foetuses in order to better understand Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s diseases; at the Shanghai Medical University, researchers, in an attempt to develop a new source of embryonic stem cells for research, developed embryos that contained human and animal DNA for the first time in 2003; and at the University of Nevada in Reno, researchers have added human stem cells to animal foetuses to create chimeras in the hope that they will someday serve as a reliable source for organ transplant.

The ethical and social implications of the creation of interspecies hybrids for research are staggering.

Take for instance a human-to-animal chimera created by adding human stem cells to a non-human embryo, like that of a mouse. Supporters of such research have tried to downplay its serious ramifications by pointing out that the outcome would simply be a mouse with a few human stem cells.

But what if those stem cells are in the brain or gonads? What if the chimeric mouse produces human sperm? What happens if that mouse were to mate with another chimeric mouse with human eggs? What sort of creature is a human-animal chimera, and what is its moral status?

What would happen if the moral demarcation line between human and non-human animals is breached? Would not the creation of novel beings that are part human and part non-human animal threaten the existing social order in untold ways? And is this not sufficient reason to forbid any crossing of species, especially if it involves human beings?

Technological determinism is sometimes purported to be motivated by a kind of ethics, which argues simply, if naively, that because technology has enabled us to do certain things, we ought to do them.

Such an approach is in reality a denial of ethics, because true ethical reasoning must make a distinction between what can be done and what ought to be done. Put differently, while science describes what is and what can be done, it is the province of moral and ethical judgment to decide what should be done.

Another obstacle to clear moral reasoning is the utilitarian approach that is concerned for ‘the greatest good for the greatest number’. This approach is championed by Professor Peter Singer of Princeton University, one of the leading bioethicists in America.

Prof Singer argues that infanticide is perfectly permissible within a person’s first two years of life. For the sake of society, children born with certain chronic medical conditions or disabilities like Down syndrome should be eliminated, argues Prof Singer. In similar vein, he maintains in his book, Practical Ethics, that there is no point in keeping disabled old people alive because they are no longer productive or useful to society.

Utilitarian ethics is the inspiration behind many different expressions of eugenics. Two generations ago, author Aldous Huxley depicted a utopia achieved through genetic manipulation, hypnopaedia and psychoactive drugs in his disturbing novel, Brave New World. But this triumph exacted a heavy price: homogenisation, mediocrity, triviality, debased tastes and shallow relationships.

The power of Huxley’s portrayal of this futuristic utopia resides in the fact that it was brought about by humankind’s most humane and progressive aspirations. But this utopia was accompanied by a process of dehumanisation so subtle that it totally eludes the unsuspecting population that is lulled into euphoric passivity.

Genetic technology may be used to relieve human suffering and treat diseases. But it can also be used in ways that would erode human dignity by treating human beings as replaceable commodities.

Science clearly does not exist in a moral vacuum. Ethically responsible genetics entails that we use science and technology in ways that protect us and others from being harmed and manipulated.

Research science, biomedicine and public policy must be underwritten by clear moral reasoning and a robust view of human dignity. They must never bow to the tyranny of technological fatalism.

As the late ethicist Paul Ramsay so wisely put it: ‘The good things that men do can be made complete only by the things they refuse to do.’

The writer is dean of postgraduate studies and lecturer in historical and systematic theology at Trinity Theological College.