This article addresses the ethical issues of genetic design based on the human instinct to survive and reproduce, and explores the boundaries between genetic enhancement and healing, focusing on Sandel and Habermas’s discussion of autonomy.
Survival and reproduction are instincts of all living things, and living a long and healthy life is the oldest aspiration of humanity. This instinct is focused not just on sustaining individual life, but on ensuring the survival of the species by passing on genes to the next generation. All living things, not just humans, naturally strive to leave as many of their genes as possible to the next generation, and various strategies and adaptations have evolved to do so. For example, some animals have developed protective coloration to survive in certain environments, or the ability to adapt to extreme conditions through physiological changes. These biological phenomena are all part of nature’s way of maximizing survival and reproductive success.
So, is it ethically problematic to pass on superior traits to our offspring that will increase their chances of survival? This question has become an important debate at the intersection of biological instinct and modern science. Individuals with traits that give them an advantage in the competition for survival are more likely to survive, leave offspring, and pass those traits on to future generations. This leads to changes in the environment, and ultimately to the evolution of the species as a whole. Darwin’s theory of natural selection explains how species survive and thrive in this process.
Genetic design is no different. The development of genetic engineering technology opens up the possibility of artificially manipulating the process of natural selection. This is a powerful tool because it allows us to select genes for the environment and create offspring with optimal conditions. However, the use of these tools inevitably raises ethical questions. The question of whether it is justifiable for humans to control and manipulate the course of nature becomes a central question in exploring the nature of genetic design and the ethical dilemmas surrounding it.
Sandel explains the problem of genetic engineering design as a difference in views of “enhancement” and continues his argument with autonomy. The line between enhancement and healing is somewhat blurred, Sandel says, but the distinction is important. But it’s uncomfortable to accept that there is a line and that crossing it should be subject to ethical evaluation. Regardless of whether the method of healing and enhancement is genetic engineering or not, they both have the goal of increasing physical satisfaction. In this sense, healing and enhancement are essentially the same, and it is wrong to distinguish between them. Similarly, enhancement by genetic design is mentally similar to and not different from enhancement by education and training. It’s just that we have a new way to do it that wasn’t available before. Sandel himself acknowledges that morally, the difference is small.
What can we say about autonomy? Suppose a child is genetically designed to have certain abilities enhanced, and this child may choose to pursue a particular career or path based on those enhanced abilities. You might think that the child’s autonomy has been violated. However, if the enhanced ability is versatile, such as intelligence, it is much less likely that a life plan will be specified. In other words, the child’s autonomy is not compromised. On the contrary, it could be argued that a child whose physical defects have been discovered and treated due to genetic design has a more open future. In fact, regardless of the question of what happens to the autonomy of a child born with design, genetic design does not take away autonomy. No one is born with the genotypes they choose.
Habermas’s notion of chance and freedom is a little different from the autonomy I mentioned earlier. He says that true freedom is imposed when there is an initial contingency over which we have no control. Control eliminates contingency, and without contingency, there is no autonomy. As long as control and autonomy are incompatible, autonomy can be problematic because not only complete control, but also partial control, is control. In other words, a child’s autonomy is not complete whether or not the abilities it acquires through genetic design are multipurpose.
But freedom is a matter of choice. As we said earlier, no one is born with a genotype that they choose. In other words, no one, genetically engineered or not, has a choice before birth. You can’t choose which children or situations are born of your design and which are not, and in that sense, acquired agency is guaranteed in both cases. Furthermore, pre-birth control can be characterized as either natural selection or human agency. Either way, there is innate control. The limitation of autonomy due to this control is natural, and therefore, agency and thus autonomy are independent of innate control.
However, as with the discussion of reinforcement, Habermas’s thinking comes back to the question of attitudes toward life. Here again, Sandel argues that regardless of the child’s autonomy, the parent’s act of eliminating contingency violates the norm of unconditional love and fails to accept life as a gift. In terms of attitudes toward life, viewing life as a gift leads to gratitude and humility. The opposite attitude is one of conquest and domination. However, the gift of life does not mean that we should adopt a passive stance, completely negating the active values represented by conquest and domination. In other words, the question of attitudes toward life seems to be a matter of balance. It is clear that the act of genetic design lies somewhere between active and passive values. And as long as there is no clear line in the sand, a life-as-a-gift attitude and genetic design are compatible. As long as the motivation for designing a child is not conquest, and autonomy is taken into account in the design process, life remains a gift, and parental love remains within social norms.
It is not uncommon for advances in science and technology to bring things that were previously the domain of fate into the realm of choice. We invented the light bulb, but we are still grateful for the sun and light, and the invention itself neither makes us happy nor unhappy. In this way, I think the discussion about the ethical issues of genetic engineering is part of a paradigm shift. This shift is a challenge for us to change for the better as a species, and may be the key to solving the ethical dilemmas we face.
