On Playing God

A familiar objection to genetic engineering in and of itself is that genetic engineers are playing God. Perhaps the most eloquent statement of this view, made outside the context of the patenting debate, is provided by William McKibben: "It is the simple act of creating new forms of life that changes the world, that puts us forever in the deity business. We will never again be a created being; instead we will be creators."⁽¹²⁴⁾ Yet opponents of genetic engineering do not object to at least some of the multitude of other ways in which people redirect or control events for their own purposes. Indeed, they often distinguish quite clearly between ethically acceptable and ethically unacceptable uses of genetic engineering. During the 1992 Congressional hearings on the Human Genome Project, FET's Kimbrell noted that "the Foundation has supported the research ongoing in the human genome project. It has also not opposed any gene therapies being undertaken to cure fatal disease. However, we do feel strongly that we must assess the long term risks of this technology along with recognizing its benefits."⁽¹²⁵⁾ Moreover, the Foundation, as noted earlier, had no objection to the patenting of therapeutic devices developed as a result of the research in question. On what basis, then, is the human creativity manifested by genetic engineering or specific uses of genetic engineering to be morally condemned as an instance of "playing God"?

One defence of genetic engineering sees it as not fundamentally different from the "natural" process of selective breeding. In the words of a U.S. lawyer who specializes in patent, trademark, and copyright law : "Breeding may have the advantage of forcing us to do things a bit more slowly, and thus a bit more deliberately. But switching genes around strikes me as little more than expedited breeding...."⁽¹²⁶⁾ As well, it has been pointed out in response to criticisms of genetic engineering based on its potentially harmful consequences for animals that: "Our homes and kennels are full of companion animals that have breed-related welfare problems, produced by selective breeding to satisfy often trivial human needs, that cause significant suffering.... Thus, while the welfare concerns raised by genetic engineering are real, they are certainly not new."⁽¹²⁷⁾

Analogous replies can be made to many other criticisms of genetic engineering. However, genetic engineering is unlike selective breeding not only because it drastically accelerates the process of achieving outcomes that might in time be achieved by selective breeding, but also because it makes possible the creation of new kinds of organisms.⁽¹²⁸⁾ Inserting genes from another species into plant germ cells or animal embryos can produce transgenic organisms about which conventional breeders can only fantasize. The Harvard mouse is such a creature, as is (for instance) "a mouse [genetically] engineered to secrete in its milk a human blood protein called TPA, which dissolves blood clots in heart attack victims."⁽¹²⁹⁾ Genetic engineering makes possible not only entirely new kinds of biological products, but also new kinds of biological production processes. This point was dramatically brought to the public's attention in October 1993, when it was announced that the cloning of human embryos had been achieved in the laboratory using "methods that are commonly used to clone animal embryos."⁽¹³⁰⁾

In other words, even if the argument about "playing God" is overstated and (as McKibben's formulation suggests) of little appeal to agnostics, there are abundant reasons to treat genetic engineering as a special and distinctive phenomenon. John Fletcher has tried to explain the basis of this feeling:

It's the reluctant recognition that human beings have discovered how to deliberately change and alter biological evolution....Before, this appeared to be totally beyond the realm of human control and in the realm of natural or divine forces. It raises questions about the limits and possibilities of human control over life.⁽¹³¹⁾

The importance of elaborating such objections can be understood by way of a provocative example. The creation of transgenic laboratory mice that can serve as experimental models for the study of AIDS and cystic fibrosis could increase scientific understanding of the diseases;⁽¹³³⁾ and mice have been genetically engineered for susceptibility to amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS) as a way of testing potential therapies.^{(134 )} ALS is, of course, the incurable degenerative disease that led Susan Rodriguez to petition the Canadian courts for the right to terminate her life at a time of her own choosing.⁽¹³⁵⁾ The claim tha t it is ethically reprehensible to create transgenic organisms regardless of the consequences, even though those consequences might include achieving a scientific basis for treating a horrible disease such as ALS, is inconsistent with our basic hu manitarian intuitions.

Examining this claim leads, in turn, to a point that is important for purposes of understanding arguments both for and against patenting higher life forms. It may often be the case that ethical intuitions conflict, particularly when it comes to defining and applying abstract principles of the kind that can be embodied in public policy. Even a basic deontological antagonism toward biotechnology, on the grounds that it involves "playing God," may conflict with an equally strong conviction that everything possible should be done to find cures or palliative measures for diseases that kill or torment those whom they afflict. The conflict may pit a conviction that new kinds of organisms should not be created by way of genetic manipulation against an equally intense conviction that all possible scientific and technological resources should be mobilized to avoid or mitigate human suffering. This is yet another argument for the procedural approach taken in section XII of the report, which focuses on how the tension between such conflicting intuitions can be reduced, or at least lived with, for purposes of public policy.

To return to substantive matters, three variants of the "playing God" argument deserve separate attention. The first appeals to the notion of species integrity. Rifkin has argued for "the right of a species to exist as a separate, identifiable creature,"⁽¹³⁶⁾ and a variety of European opponents of modifying the human germ line have invoked the integrity of the human genetic patrimony or genetic endowment.⁽¹³⁷⁾ Intuitively, we have a reasonably clear idea of what a species is, and of why the concept is important. The U.S. Congressional Office of Technology Assessment counters, however, with the argument that "there is no universal or absolute rule that all species are discretely bounded in any generally consistent manner." Further, says OTA, the right or expectation asserted by Rifkin on behalf of individual species "... has no known foundation in biology. Species exist in nature as reproductive communities, not as separate creatures, and these reproductive communities are, by standards of geologic time, temporary."⁽¹³⁸⁾ The ability or inability to produce offspring nevertheless provides an important way of defining "reproductive communities" within a time frame shorter than the geologic. Along these lines, Stephen Jay Gould has argued that "species are almost always objective entities in nature."⁽¹³⁹⁾ The emergence of new species, he says, can be compared to the growth of new branches on a bush, and "[a] branch on a bush is an objective division."⁽¹⁴⁰⁾ Further, "species emerge relatively quickly, compared with their period of later stability, and then live for long periods ... with minimal change."⁽¹⁴¹⁾ This necessarily superficial treatment of a complex set of questions does not mean that Rifkin's arguments about the rights of species are sound. It does suggest that there are sound reasons to consider the concept of a species as more than just an arbitrary construct. It also suggests that there are sound ethical reasons to consider the extinction or wholesale transformation of a species as something qualitatively distinct from the fate of large numbers of organisms belonging to a particular species.⁽¹⁴²⁾

A second elaboration of the "playing God" argument can be presented in less stark terms that may have more general appeal. NAC, for instance, has argued that "there is an inherent value to life beyond that which our economic system assigns (or fails to assign) it."⁽¹⁴³⁾ This point is undeniably an important one, and introduces a distinctively complex set of issues having to do with patenting's potential contribution to what various authors have called the commodification of life, human and otherwise. Nevertheless, there is no inconsistency in accepting the NAC point about the value of life, while at the same time accepting arguments that patenting of higher life forms should be allowed in situations where (for example) it is associated with such beneficial effects as the creation of new animal models for studying debilitating diseases. Here again, the potential tension between conflicting intuitions comes into play.

We take up the question of commodification at some length later in our report. For the reasons outlined, though, we doubt that the claims that genetic engineering involves "playing God," or that it involves the deliberate alteration of "nature," a "nature" that may itself be socially constructed, constitute compelling moral criticisms. More needs to be said. This is why we generally favour a consequentialist approach to evaluating the desirability of patenting higher life forms. At the same time, the range of potentially relevant consequences must be sufficiently broad and inclusive to encompass, for instance, consideration of the effects that allowing patents on higher life forms is likely to have on attitudes toward life and toward its symbolic and moral significance.

Along these lines, a third and more nuanced variant of the "playing God" argument, one which is consequentialist in form, invokes the loss of a sense of the mystery of life that may accompany the scientific ability to define life in terms of genetic information, and the technological ability to manipulate that information. Arguably the effect will be a loss of a sense of the sacred character of life, although the term "sacred" need not be understood in a narrowly religious sense. It could be argued in response that increased scientific understanding of the molecular "building blocks" of life, and of the common genetic heritage shared by humankind with other species, may actually serve to enhance our respect for life and its complexity. As one biologist has stated: "We all knew that evolution was true, but now, every time I pick up a cell, I have the same amazement. These genes really are there, and they are the same genes across species. A little bit of tinkering here and there, that's all. We really are connected to all these organisms."⁽¹⁴⁴⁾ Scientific knowledge can thus lead either to reductionism or to reverence. A useful analogy may be that simply contemplating the concept of a light-year, based on knowledge of the speed at which light travels, may engender a more profound sense of awe and mystery than any number of cosmologies that attempt to provide an explicit account of order in the universe.

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