A blog from the Centre for Research Ethics & Bioethics (CRB)

Category: In the media (Page 6 of 7)

Do I have a self?

Viewing neuroscience as a box opener is tempting. The box conceals the human mind; opening the box reveals it.

According to this image, neuroscience uncovers reality. It lays bare the truth about our taken for granted notions of mind: about our concepts of ‘self,’ ‘will,’ ‘belief,’ ‘intention’… Neuroscience reveals the underlying facts about us humans.

How exciting…, and how terrifying! What will they find in the box? And what will they not find? Will they find my ‘self’ there – the entity that is me and that writes these words?

What if they don’t find my ‘self’ in the box! What if my ‘self’ turns out to be an illusion! Can they engineer one for me instead? My life would be so desolate without ‘me.’

But neuroscientists are clever. They control what’s in the box. They surely will be able to enhance my brain and create the ‘self’ that didn’t exist in the first place.

Ideas like these are discussed in a mind-boggling interview entitled,

What strikes me about the neurophilosophical discussion is that it does NOT question the notion of the self. The notion is discussed as if it were self-evident to all of us, as some sort of ‘entity.’ The notion is supposed to be present in ordinary (culturally shaped) self-understanding. What is lacking is the evidence for the notion of ‘the self.’

You’ve guessed where the evidence is hiding: it’s in the box!

Neuroscientists opening the box threaten to disclose that the brain is naked. It might not be garmented in a ‘self’ or in a ‘free will.’ That these ‘entities’ exist in the box were perhaps just illicit reifications of modes of speech present in everyday discourse.

But what is ‘reification’?

Is it not precisely the image of ‘the box’ concealing the realities of mind?

If the tempting ‘box’ image supplies the model of reification – the very form of reification – isn’t the notion that neuroscience, by opening the box, is exposing reifications in ordinary discourse a whirling dance with the same reifying tendency that it is supposed to expose?

The ‘box’ mode of thinking is a simplified use of psychological nouns and verbs as if they referred to ‘entities’ and ‘processes’ in a hidden realm. It is difficult to resist such simplified linguistic imagery.

I’m convinced that neuroscience is making important discoveries that will challenge our self-understanding. But I question the ‘box’ image of these developments as an oversimplification of the very modes of speech it makes it seem we can transcend.

Pär Segerdahl

Minding our language - the Ethics Blog

Can neuroscience modernize human self-understanding?

Tearing down old buildings and erecting new ones on the basis of modern science and technology – we are constantly doing it in our cities. But can similar ambitions to get rid of the old, to modernize, be realized even more thoroughly, with regard to us and the human condition?

Can we tear down “traditional” human self-understanding – the language we use when we reflect on life in literature, in philosophy, and in the humanities – and replace it by new neuroscientific terms?

Earlier this spring, the philosopher Roger Scruton published an essay in the Spectator where he eloquently attacks claims that neuroscience can and should replace the humanities by a set of brave new “neuro”-disciplines, like neuroethics, neuroaesthetics, and neuromusicology.

Not only will these purported new “sciences” fail to create the understanding that traditional ethics, aesthetics, and musicology, helped us towards (for example, of Bach’s music). They will even fail to achieve the scientific explanations that would justify the brave new “neuro”-prefix.

In order for there to be explanations at all, there must first of all be questions. What characterizes the purported “neuro”-sciences, however, is their lack of questions, Scruton remarks.

“Neuro-explanation” typically is no more than translation into neuro-jargon. The aim is neither understanding nor explanation, but the ideological one of replacing the traditional by the new, at any cost.

The result of these extreme modernization ambitions running amok in human self-understanding, Scruton claims, and I agree with him, is nonsense: neurononsense.

Yet, something worries me in Scruton’s essay. He almost seems to purify human self-understanding, or the human condition, as if it were a higher sphere that should not be affected by changing times, at least not if they are modern.

I agree that neuroscience cannot explain the human condition. I agree that it cannot replace human self-understanding. But it can change the human condition and challenge our self-understanding. It already does.

Science and technology cannot be abstracted from the human condition. We are continually becoming “modernized” by, for example, neuroscientific developments. These changing conditions are real, and not merely nonsense or jargon. They occur everywhere, not merely among intellectuals or academics. And they reach all the way to our language.

Neuroscience certainly cannot replace the humanities. But it can challenge the humanities to reflect on changed human conditions.

When attempts in the human sciences to understand modern human conditions focus on neuroscience, the prefix “neuro-” could denote a more responsible form of intellectual work than the one Scruton rightly criticizes. It could denote work that feels the challenge of neuroscientific developments and takes it seriously.

Here at CRB, Kathinka Evers works to develop such a responsible form of neuroethics: one that does not translate ethics into neuro-jargon, but sees neuroscientific findings about the brain as a philosophical challenge to understand and clarify, very often in opposition to the temptation of jargon.

Pär Segerdahl

Approaching future issues - the Ethics Blog

UK Biobank invites researchers

After many years of data collection, UK Biobank is now open for research on human health and disease.

Like the Swedish biobank investment LifeGene, the British investment is big and prospective. Blood and urine samples were collected from 500 000 participants aged 40-69. Participants also underwent medical examinations and answered questions about health, disease and lifestyle.

The news is that researchers can now start planning projects using these data. Nevertheless, it will probably be a long time before interesting findings are reported…

It may seem cynical, but before UK Biobank can support valuable research, sufficiently many participants must develop various diseases, while others remain healthy. This is what will allow researchers to go back to the original data and identify patterns in how genetic and environmental factors contribute to health and disease.

The value of biobank infrastructure, like UK Biobank, increases with time, as participants develop cancer, depression, diabetes, or heart disease… while others remain in good health.

The fact that biobank infrastructure initially has unclear scientific value and reveals its potential only with time tends to invite skepticism. In the UK as well as in Sweden, investments in biobank infrastructure were interpreted by some as if they concerned unusually obscure research projects, lacking proper scientific goals and procedures.

I think that this is a misunderstanding.

As the recent opening of UK Biobank shows, it is not until now that clearly defined research projects can start being planned. If I am right, however, we might even have to wait somewhat longer…

The data collected between 2006 and 2012 might not support much interesting research until 2022, if I understand the temporality of these research processes. Since the research concerns health and disease in ageing humans, the significance of the research cannot develop any faster than humans grow older.

Rather than holding the initial lack of scientific prosperity against investments like UK Biobank or LifeGene, I am struck by the patience and foresightedness of those who planned and decided about these investments.

Understanding the infrastructural preconditions of biobank research seems to require an attitude to the pace of human life that I thought had become extinct in an age obsessed with short-term agendas.

Sometimes, we have to wait for the future to reveal itself. Only when the time is ripe can the goals and procedures of scientifically interesting biobank projects be defined.

Pär Segerdahl

Approaching future issues - the Ethics Blog

Bioethics is not a community of interests

There is a persistent image of bioethics as being in symbiosis with the powerful interests of medical research and the pharmaceutical industry.

Examples that could confirm such suspicions multiply, unfortunately, since pharmaceutical companies have begun to hire bioethicists as consultants. After critique, Glenn McGee, the former editor of the American Journal of Bioethics, recently resigned from a Texas based stem-cell company.

There obviously is a real risk that bioethicists end up representing powerful interests. Everyone who claims to be a bioethicist should be attentive to this question:

  • “Has my thinking become unjust and partial?”

In their academic setting, however, bioethicists not only can but should be driven by this question of truthfulness. You not only can but should weigh a multitude of values and perspectives against each other. You not only can change your mind, but should always consider the need to do so.

Openness strengthens you as a bioethicist.

This would not be the case if you represented a company, an organization, or an authority. In such positions, it is predetermined which views, which interests and which regulations you have a professional duty to look after. If you don’t disseminate the right views or look after the right interests, you are disloyal to your organization and should consider quitting.

It is the other way round with bioethics as an academic activity. If you protect privileged views as if you belonged to a community of interests, if you reason one-dimensionally without allowing opposed perspectives to be seen – then you should consider quitting.

If the functionary of an organization asks, with a pounding heart, “Have I become disloyal?”, the ethicist’s worrying question is, “Have I become loyal?”

If bioethics is vulnerable to accusations of partiality, then, it is because ethical thinking presupposes an openness that typically is absent within communities of interest (and they abound).

This ethical openness, paradoxically, may lay behind some of the accusations that bioethics legitimizes power. For ethical openness hardly is politically radical or ideologically rigid.

Where political organizations protect certain interests and work towards particular goals, ethical thinking has a responsibility to highlight other values that might be undermined if the organization got all the power it hopes to attain.

There seems to be certain tension between ethical openness and political radicalness. Ethics might seem to maintain status quo… from the point of view of various forms of political activism. Ethics might seem to protect power… from the point of view of communities of interest that strive to achieve commendable but limited goals.

There are so many good causes. There are so many groups with commendable interests. Dare I add that even industry and research have values that can deserve our attention?

My own belief is that the open-mindedness with which the best forms of bioethics can be associated – the difficult art of doing justice to many possibilities where there is a temptation to defend a rigid position – can have a profound democratic function.

Voices that strive to be impartial are important.

Pär Segerdahl

We think about bioethics : www.ethicsblog.crb.uu.se

Personalized medicine against the diabetes epidemic?

When promising technologies see the light, it can be difficult to make sound predictions about their future utility.

Technical breakthroughs that promise to transform society tend to bewitch the mind. Their tremendous potential begs for interpretation by more dreamlike imaginary powers.

When nuclear power was young, for example, the impact this new technology promised to have on society was interpreted by some in the futuristic imagery of nuclear reactors in every car, in every house, and in every kitchen range.

For a short while, every human energy problem seemed to have a nuclear solution.

Today, new gene sequencing technology is beginning to transform how we think about medicine. Personalized medicine is just around the corner. It promises to adapt both prevention and treatment of disease to the individual’s genome.

– How far can this promising new form of medicine be taken?

Two investigators from Albert Einstein College of Medicine recently suggested personalized medicine as a solution to the obesity and diabetes epidemic in the US and other parts of the world… where eating habits call for alarm.

The authors’ argue that costly prevention efforts could be targeted at those individuals whose genomes make them most likely to benefit. Such a personalized approach to the diabetes epidemic is suggested not only for the US, but also for developing countries where diabetes is spreading rapidly and public health resources are scarce.

I’m certain that personalized medicine will be very useful both in prevention and treatment of diabetes. But is it reasonable as a solution to the diabetes epidemic?

I may be wrong. But I cannot avoid seeing the suggestion as an attempt to “find a personalized medicine solution to every human health problem.”

Instead of targeting high risk individuals, and doing so generation after generation while we continue to expose them to the same dangerous eating habits that low-risk individuals adopt (and are enticed to adopt), why not consider efforts (like those of Jamie Oliver) to change globally spreading eating habits?

I admit that my judgment may be wrong and that I fail to understand the potential in this particular case.

What is the answer to the obesity and diabetes epidemic? Revolutionary medicine or a food revolution?

Pär Segerdahl

We like challenging questions - the ethics blog

After-birth abortion as a logical scale exercise

How should one respond when ethicists publish arguments in favor of infanticide?

In the current issue of Journal of Medical Ethics, two philosophers argue that what they call “after-birth abortion” should be permissible in all cases where abortion is (even when the newborn is healthy).

Not surprisingly, soon after BioEdge covered the article, the news spread on the internet… and the authors of the article unfortunately even received death threats.

If you know the spirit of much current academic philosophy, you will not be surprised to know that the authors defended themselves by statements like:

  • “This was a theoretical and academic article.”
  • “I’m not in favour of infanticide. I’m just using logical arguments.”
  • “It was intended for an academic community.”
  • “I don’t think people outside bioethics should learn anything from this article.”

The editor of JME, Julian Savulescu, defended the decision to publish by emphasizing that JME “supports sound rational argument.”

In a similar vein, the philosopher John Harris, who developed basically the same rational considerations in support of infanticide, felt a need to clarify his position. He never defended infanticide as a policy proposal. – What did he do, then?

He engaged in “intellectual discussions.”

What I find remarkable is how some of our most significant human ideals – logic and rationality – seem to have acquired a technical and esoteric meaning for at least some professional philosophers.

Traditionally, if you build on logic and rationality, then your intellectual considerations ought to concern the whole of humanity. Your conclusions deserve to be taken seriously by anyone with an interest in the matter.

The article on after-birth abortion, however, is JUST using logical arguments. It is ONLY presenting a sound rational argument. It is MERELY an intellectual discussion. To me, this sounds like a contradiction in terms.

Moreover, because of this “merely” logical nature of the argument, it concerns no one except a select part of the academic community.

Still, logic and rationality are awe-inspiring ideals with a long human history. Philosophers draw heavily on the prestige of these ideals when they explain the seriousness of their arguments in a free liberal society.

When people in this free society are troubled by the formal reasoning, however, some philosophers seem surprised by this unwelcome attention from “outsiders” and explain that it is only a logical scale exercise, composed years ago by eminent philosophers like Singer, Tooley and Harris, before academic journals were accessible on the internet.

I repeat my question: how should one respond when ethicists publish what they present as “rational arguments” in favor of infanticide?

My answer is that one should take them seriously when they explain that one shouldn’t take their logical conclusions too seriously. Still, there is reason for concern, because the ideals they approach so technically are prestigious notions with a binding character for most of us.

Many persons think they should listen carefully when arguments are logical and rational.

Moreover, JME is not a purely philosophical journal. It is read by people with real and practical concerns. They are probably unaware that many professional philosophers, who seem to be discussing real issues, are only doing logical scale exercises.

This mechanized approach to the task of thinking, presented on days with better self-confidence as the epitome of what it means to be “serious and well-reasoned,” is what ought to concern us. It is problematic even when conclusions are less sensational.

Pär Segerdahl

Following the news - the ethics blog

The Swedish government announced new rules for research registers

Will new Swedish rules for research registers enable LifeGene to continue?

In December 2011, the Swedish Data Inspection Board (DI) decided that the large biobank investment LifeGene is against the law.

In its motivation, DI focused on the purpose of the data collection and the information to participants about this purpose. According to DI, LifeGene’s purpose – “future research” – is too unspecific to be in accordance with the Personal Data Act.

Yesterday (February 28), the Swedish government announced new rules for research registers. These rules are supposed to enable LifeGene to continue. If you read Swedish, you might want to study the government’s press release.

I am not a legal expert, but it seems to me that even if the government’s new rules can make LifeGene lawful as a research register, other laws become relevant when the register is being used in research… for example, the Personal Data Act, surveyed by DI.

I happen to believe that LifeGene’s purpose can be interpreted as being sufficiently specific even for the demands of the Personal Data Act. LifeGene does not bluntly state “future research” as its purpose, but specifies the kind of diseases that will be studied, as well as the goal of creating new tools to prevent, diagnose, and treat these diseases.

Karolinska Institutet (that administers LifeGene) has appealed against DI’s decision to stop LifeGene. If DI does not withdraw its decision, my uncertain layman guess is that the result of this legal process might still be relevant for the possibility of continuing LifeGene as planned.

Pär Segerdahl

Following the news - the ethics blog

Blood samples to be destroyed in Minnesota

Privacy concerns and public health endeavours sometimes clash with each other.

A recent example comes from the state of Minnesota.  After a ruling from the state’s supreme court, one has begun to destroy blood samples taken routinely from newborns in  a screening program. The practice is seen as a violation of privacy, since consent was not obtained first.

Read more in Science, News of the Week.

Pär Segerdahl

Henrietta Lacks and the power of rhetoric

Paradoxically, the victim can have the most powerful position, namely, as a “rhetorical figure.”

I sense this rhetorical power in Rebecca Skloot’s bestselling book, The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks. I think less freely under the spell of this rhetoric. My thoughts are not allowed to discover new aspects of things. Questions are being silenced and the direction of my “reasoning” is predestined.

Who dares to be scrutinizing in the confrontation with the tear-jerking language that occurs on the author’s website for the book? This could be the lyrics of a whole genre of sad songs.

We read and write about Henrietta Lacks as if we were spellbound.

The most spellbound of all seem to be the reviewers of the book. Many excel in morbid presentations of a both dead and living body abducted by science; of a poor black woman who anonymously “paid the price” for a whole series of profitable medical discoveries and innovations.

Who wouldn’t yield to the temptation?

As a result, however, obvious questions are silenced. For example: Is it not wonderful that she was anonymous (until the publication of the bestseller)? Is it not splendid that scientists speak of “HeLa cells” and not about “Henrietta Lacks’ cells”? Wasn’t her integrity protected that way (until the publication of the bestseller)?

We don’t know how Henrietta Lacks would have described her destiny. Would she describe herself as a victim of science (rather than as a victim of cancer, for example)? Or has she become one of the most recent victims of the enchanting rhetoric of the victim?

(I wish to thank Joanna Forsberg for inspiration. A comment of hers on our Swedish Etikbloggen helped break the spell for me and gave birth to this post.)

Pär Segerdahl

The temptation of rhetoric - the ethics blog

Should ethical review boards begin to act like business accountants?

The company Geron recently decided to stop its unique clinical trial concerning treatment of spinal cord injury with neural cells derived from human embryonic stem cells.

In a previous post on this blog, I used the company’s decision to illustrate a possible consequence of the European ban on stem cell patents requiring the destruction of human embryos. The same day I posted my consideration, Francoise Baylis published a wholly different perspective on Geron’s decision…

Geron claims that the decision to stop the trial was made for business reasons. They wanted to concentrate their limited resources to their oncology drugs. However, the decision left the four research participants that had been enrolled in the trial in a vacuum.

Geron says it will continue to study these participants and report findings. But the trial was originally meant to include ten participants. Will results with only four participants be scientifically valid, Baylis asks. If the results are valid, then using ten participants, as originally planned, would have meant using more patients than required for producing valid results. If results with four participants are not valid, four patients are exposed to risk without any prospects of countervailing new knowledge.

– Which conclusions can be drawn from this example? Should the practices of ethical review be changed for applications from the private sector? Should financial resources and business strategies be included in the issues to consider? That seems to be Baylis’ response to Geron’s decision to quit stem cell research.

For my own part, I think we need more than one example before we consider making ethical review practices even more complex. A more time-consuming process of ethical review has a cost that we need to acknowledge…

As Simon Whitney summarized his views on the expansion of ethical regulation of medical research, “since biomedical research saves lives, it is unsurprising that the regulation of research costs lives.” – It may be unethical to make the process of ethical review even more cumbersome. Patients die when life-saving research is delayed. That cost must be brought into the equation when we consider single examples of ethically problematic conduct that we may wish to regulate against.

Pär Segerdahl

We think about bioethics : www.ethicsblog.crb.uu.se

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