The Role of Human Nature in the Bioethics Debate
by Michael Suarez
The Meaning of Life
While issues of the blurred bioethical line between therapy and enhancement, between what makes us well and what makes us more than well, clearly invoke political dynamics, these issues will ultimately be matters of personal questions and choices. As discussed, current and future biomedical technologies raise possibilities of increasing highly coveted human attributes, and this in turn raises a challenging ethical question. How smart, strong, beautiful, loving or happy is sufficient? How much is enough? This is the question Bill McKibben confronts in Enough: Staying Human in an Engineered World . McKibben's writing proposes that we stop and think before taking our next technological steps and its supporting argumentation revolves around one central thesis – the idea of the human being as a creature defined by “meaning” (McKibben 44). What exactly McKibben means by “meaning” is a sometimes slippery, subtle concept, but the general idea can be grasped by understanding the nature he suggests might be destroyed by overreaching technological development.
McKibben first engages the implications of what we have already suggested to be the greatest controversy in the biotech debate – manipulation of inheritable traits through germ-line engineering. In evaluating the consequences of this science he begins with the cryptic comment that “we stand on the edge of disappearing as individuals,” but follows with poignant, elucidating examples. If a parent who loved music utilizes genetic programming so that their daughter likewise loves music, does the girl really love music in any meaningful sense? Even more poignantly: if a boy is genetically engineered to have spiritual faith, what value does his faith really have (46-8). Such people will never be entirely sure what is driving them – is it their heart and soul or their designer genes? Such examples reveal the possibility of reducing a subtle freedom unique to our nature: the search for a deeper sense of identity (49). And in the light of such examples McKibben's simple question is haunting: “If all our decisions are programmed who are we?” (65).
McKibben also considers other technologies that might chip away at human meaning. Robotics and nanotechnology (molecular robotics), which some think may eventually eliminate the need for humans to work, sound enchanting until we seriously consider the meaninglessness of “retirement from birth” (92-4). Cryogenic technology is hailed by some as an imminent solution to human mortality, but this too would lead to practical problems and philosophical meaninglessness. “Our understanding that we will die,” writes McKibben, “is in some powerful way the essence of who we are” 158-9).
Such a manipulation of human nature may seem too fantastic to be relevant, until we consider some already existing technologies, their accelerating timetables and the human ambition that underlies them. Texas A&M, for example, recently unveiled a small zoo of cloned animals. Cloned cattle are being sold on the Internet, but a Wisconsin high school student did not need to place an order since he managed to do it himself. Enough? These developments make the creation of Dolly seem like old news. Scientists have also mixed animal genes (“transgenics” is the science), such as in the glow-in-the-dark rabbit infused with genes from a phosphorescent jellyfish (McKibben 15-17). Too much? There is also the matter of the increasing speed of technological development. Consider just the one example of the Human Genome Project, which aimed to map our entire genetic structure. When initially proposed, critics scoffed that it would take 10,000 years. Supporters suggested it might be completed in 2010. It was finished in
the year 2000 (McKibben 70). Underlying these developments is the ambition of human nature. McKibben's writing includes plenteous examples. Regarding genetic engineering, Princeton's Lee Silver thinks we should “seize the power” (56). The CEO of Advanced Cell Technology, Michael West, dreams of being able to edit DNA the way we edit “a document on a word processor” (12). And Hans Moravec regards future machines as “our progeny” (99). (Nor do these examples include more bizarre characters, such as the Rael and the Raelians, who say they want to clone Jesus.) In the context of this information it seems reasonable, even sensible, to begin discussing the practical implications of technologies that still seem fantastic and far of.
What then is the meaning of the meaning that McKibben is arguing for? In short, it is the profound sense of fulfillment found in the expression of our nature. These advances would reduce and automate what is most real and vital in our nature: choosing, struggling, losing and winning, and eventually dying. In this conception of human nature it is the process that gives value. This process is already contextualized by technology, but the new technologies we are bringing into our lives may surpass context and irreversibly infect content. It's the distinction between how we live and who we are. What then is McKibben's recommendation? How much is enough? His answer is loud and clear. We are, in most ways, already there. “We need to survey the world we now inhabit and proclaim it good. Good enough” (107). Saying “enough” however, especially in a consumer culture, is difficult. The desire to be “better” is strong in our part of the world. Because of this I think that although McKibben's warnings against eliminating meaning are intriguing, possibly valid, certainly alarming, they are not necessarily compelling. McKibben's notion of human nature as arising from meaning has a certain degree of fluidity. The meaning arises from the relation between the content of our beings and the context of our lives, the context changes and that content adjusts. Such adaptation, however, is largely led not by concern with deeper meaning (though we sometimes grow in this direction), but by the desire for basic satisfaction. It is in this pursuit to get what we desire and think we need that we adapt and I think this esteem will be the gist of our response to such warnings: we'll adapt… it's our nature.
Matters of Speculation
In reviewing some of the ethical discussions about the remarkable implications of biotech development we have found that the concept of human nature plays a critical role in bioethical debate. This is most prominently so in the cases of those voices calling for conservative and restrained approaches. While these voices differ in what they say, they all share the concern that biotechnological development will alter human nature in a way that will incur serious negative consequences. In contrast, those who welcome radical technologies, even such as may transform our nature, tend to see this nature either as something needing change to reach fulfillment or as an altogether problematic concept. These people, many excited by the idea of being “posthuman”, believe the wondrous benefits will outweigh any risks and advocate social, political and scientific freedom to pursue this brave new world.
When I reflect on what I have learned I feel fascinated, a little excited and very concerned. I don't feel that I've learned enough to predict who will be right or to what degree – such matters of speculation are difficult to conclude. My ambivalent feelings run a close race, but concern wins. And if I were to narrow the cause of my concern to just one thing, I would have to return to the issue of human nature. My concern is based on a two-fold premise. First, human nature exists and is inescapable. Francis Fukuyama argues this point deftly when he explains that all the philosophers who argue against the reality of human nature subtly include the idea in their argument (120). Second, whatever else human nature may or may not be, it is flawed. This is the idea Christians call sin. By this later point I am not suggesting whether we should or should not proceed with biotech innovation; I am simply justifying my concern and perhaps advocating caution. And I am suggesting that no technology will completely remedy the flaws of our nature. As the moral defects of human nature disturbed primitive societies of the past so they will exercise themselves in the most advanced societies of the future. This is why Huxley's Brave New World is mentioned in the most sober bioethical discussions (the President's Council for instance). To seriously hypothesize whether our future will look anything like Huxley's classic dystopia I will need to watch and learn more, and watch again. Such matters of speculation are notoriously difficult to conclude. Human nature, however, is not always impossible to predict.