As we cross the threshold of
bioengineering, cloning animals, creating crossbreeds, and
altering plants, there’s a growing unease that we are
"playing God." The existence of several myths,
from the Tree of Knowledge to the destruction of Atlantis,
depicting the calamitous price of unbridled human curiosity
and willingness to meddle with nature, suggests that our
concern is as deeply founded within human nature as is our
meddlesomeness. Unfortunately, according to Heinberg and
many others, the former is too often a latecomer after the
latter has done its damage. Our technological powers run
faster than our ability to understand them and use them
wisely. As cocreators or stewards, do we have the
responsibility simply to protect the status quo or are we to
go where no one has gone before in order to open up new
territories to conscious understanding? How would we prepare
ourselves for such an adventure? How does respect find a
creative coexistence with curiosity?
Heinberg surveys the ethical elite, those
who by profession or calling are supposed to be the deep
thinkers and moral prophets in such thorny areas as
bioengineering. He discovers that these people are often
woefully uninformed about the state of the art of
bioengineering and about the evidence of negative,
irreversible side effects, such as unleashing new forms of
life upon the planet that cannot be controlled. Since
biotechnology treats the world as machine, focusing on its component parts,
while it is increasingly evident that the world is an
integral living system, it is almost axiomatic that
scientists cannot predict all of the consequences of genetic
engineering. Something more than rational prediction is
required.
When Heinberg turns to the experts for
their moral intuitions, he finds little intuition but more
opinion, usually based upon preexisting systems of thought.
Using moral reasoning, we apply old tools to new situations.
Sometimes the results are worth considering. For example, a
Buddhist notes that we need ethics to guard against the
negative side of human nature. This view reasons, therefore,
that when bioengineering dilemmas are confounded with
commercial interests, we cannot expect a morally enlightened
resolution. That conclusion seems reasonable.
On the other hand, consider the dilemma
faced by vegetarian and Jewish thinkers who respond
negatively to vegetables which have been genetically
"improved" by the addition of genes from animals.
They reason that these vegetables are part animal and thus
not appropriate for them to eat. Yet, these vegetables have
no actual animal parts, but rather merely some molecular
programming borrowed from animals. Bioengineering, by
blurring boundaries, also destroys traditional categories of
thought. Moral reasoning is limited. What we need is moral
intuition. It would seem, however, that the ethically elite
and the moral leaders may be intuitively challenged. Who can
see clearly into the unknown, weigh the possibilities and
potentialities, using an appropriate system of values? What
intuitive mind can prophesy them? Luther Burbank, for
example, had an intuitive communication with plants and was
able to encourage them to evolve in new directions. Native
Americans describe intuitive communication with entire
ecological systems, asking permission to make a harvest or
otherwise intrude. We need to have an intuitive ability that
combines moral vision with insight into evolutionary
possibilities. Curiosity won’t be stopped, as it seems to
be an inherent part of creation. Moral injunction is not
sufficiently adroit to harness curiosity. Only the
cultivation of holistic, spiritually sensitive intuition can
lead our new Atlantis toward creating an innovative, yet
sustainable healthy future.
