Human Cloning Isn't as Scary as It Sounds
The recent news of the successful cloning of an adult sheep-in which
the
sheep's DNA was inserted into an unfertilized sheep egg to produce a
lamb
with identical DNA-has generated an outpouring of ethical concerns.
These
concerns are not about Dolly, the now famous sheep, nor even about
the
considerable impact cloning may have on the animal breeding
industry, but
rather about the possibility of cloning humans. For the most part,
however,
the ethical concerns being raised are exaggerated and misplaced,
because
they are based on erroneous views about what genes are and what they
can
do. The danger, therefore, lies not in the power of the technology,
but in the
misunderstanding of its significance.
Producing a clone of a human being would not amount to creating a
"carbon
copy"-an automaton of the sort familiar from science fiction. It
would be
more like producing a delayed identical twin. And just as identical
twins are
two separate people-biologically, psychologically, morally and
legally,
though not genetically-so a clone is a separate person from his or
her
non-contemporaneous twin. To think otherwise is to embrace a belief
in
genetic determinism-the view that genes determine everything about
us,
and that environmental factors or the random events in human
development
are utterly insignificant. The overwhelming consensus among
geneticists is
that genetic determinism is false.
As geneticists have come to understand the ways in which genes
operate,
they have also become aware of the myriad ways in which the
environment
affects their "expression." The genetic contribution to the simplest
physical
traits, such as height and hair color, is significantly mediated by
environmental factors. And the genetic contribution to the traits we
value
most deeply, from intelligence to compassion, is conceded by even
the most
enthusiastic genetic researchers to be limited and indirect. Indeed,
we need
only appeal to our ordinary experience with identical twins-that
they are
different people despite their similarities-to appreciate that
genetic
determinism is false.
Furthermore, because of the extra steps involved, cloning will
probably
always be riskier-that is, less likely to result in a live
birth-than in vitro
fertilization (IVF) and embryo transfer. (It took more than 275
attempts
before the researchers were able to obtain a successful sheep clone.
While
cloning methods may improve, we should note that even standard IVF
techniques typically have a success rate of less than 20 percent.)
So why
would anyone go to the trouble of cloning?
There are, of course, a few reasons people might go to the trouble,
and so
it's worth pondering what they think they might accomplish, and what
sort
of ethical quandaries they might engender. Consider the
hypothetical
example of the couple who wants to replace a child who has died.
The
couple doesn't seek to have another child the ordinary way because
they feel
that cloning would enable them to reproduce, as it were, the lost
child. But
the unavoidable truth is that they would be producing an entirely
different
person, a delayed identical twin of that child. Once they understood
that, it
is unlikely they would persist.
But suppose they were to persist? Of course we can't deny that
possibility.
But a couple so persistent in refusing to acknowledge the genetic
facts is not
likely to be daunted by ethical considerations or legal restrictions
either. If
our fear is that there could be many couples with that sort of
psychology,
then we have a great deal more than cloning to worry about.
Another disturbing possibility is the person who wants a clone in
order to
have acceptable "spare parts" in case he or she needs an organ
transplant
later in life. But regardless of the reason that someone has a clone
produced,
the result would nevertheless be a human being with all the rights
and
protections that accompany that status. It truly would be a disaster
if the
results of human cloning were seen as less than fully human. But
there is
certainly no moral justification for and little social danger of
that happening;
after all, we do not accord lesser status to children who have been
created
through IVF or embryo transfer.
There are other possibilities we could spin out. Suppose a couple
wants a
"designer child"-a clone of Cindy Crawford or Elizabeth
Taylor-because
they want a daughter who will grow up to be as attractive as those
women.
Indeed, suppose someone wants a clone, never mind of whom, simply
to
enjoy the notoriety of having one. We cannot rule out such cases as
impossible. Some people produce children for all sorts of frivolous
or
contemptible reasons. But we must remember that cloning is not as
easy as
going to a video store or as engaging as the traditional way of
making babies.
Given the physical and emotional burdens that cloning would involve,
it is
likely that such cases would be exceedingly rare.
But if that is so, why object to a ban on human cloning? What is
wrong with
placing a legal barrier in the path of those with desires perverse
enough or
delusions recalcitrant enough to seek cloning despite its limited
potential and
formidable costs? For one thing, these are just the people that a
legal ban
would be least likely to deter. But more important, a legal barrier
might well
make cloning appear more promising than it is to a much larger group
of
people.
If there were significant interest in applying this technology to
human beings,
it would indicate a failure to educate people that genetic
determinism is
profoundly mistaken. Under those circumstances as well, however, a
ban on
human cloning would not only be ineffective but also most likely
counterproductive. Ineffective because, as others have pointed out,
the
technology does not seem to require sophisticated and highly
visible
laboratory facilities; cloning could easily go underground.
Counterproductive
because a ban might encourage people to believe that there is a
scientific
basis for some of the popular fears associated with human
cloning-that
there is something to genetic determinism after all.
There is a consensus among both geneticists and those writing on
ethical,
legal and social aspects of genetic research, that genetic
determinism is not
only false, but pernicious; it invokes memories of pseudo-scientific
racist
and eugenic programs premised on the belief that what we value in
people is
entirely dependent on their genetic endowment or the color of their
skin.
Though most members of our society now eschew racial determinism,
our
culture still assumes that genes contain a person's destiny. It
would be
unfortunate if, by treating cloning as a terribly dangerous
technology, we
encouraged this cultural myth, even as we intrude on the broad
freedom our
society grants people regarding reproduction.
We should remember that most of us believe people should be allowed
to
decide with whom to reproduce, when to reproduce and how many
children
they should have. We do not criticize a woman who takes a fertility
drug so
that she can influence when she has children-or even how many. Why,
then, would we object if a woman decides to give birth to a child
who is, in
effect, a non-contemporaneous identical twin of someone else?
By arguing against a ban, I am not claiming that there are no
serious ethical
concerns to the manipulation of human genes. Indeed there are. For
example, if it turned out that certain desirable traits regarding
intellectual
abilities or character could be realized through the manipulation of
human
genes, which of these enhancements, if any, should be available? But
such
questions are about genetic engineering, which is a different issue
than
cloning. Cloning is a crude method of trait selection: It simply
takes a
pre-existing, unengineered genetic combination of traits and
replicates it.
I do not wish to dismiss the ethical concerns people have raised
regarding
the broad range of assisted reproductive technologies. But we
should
acknowledge that those concerns will not be resolved by any
determination
we make regarding the specific acceptability of cloning.
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