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

Tag: bioethics (Page 10 of 10)

Save humanity from the human

We must enhance the human; or else humanity will come to an end. Thus dramatically one could summarize the bioethicist Julian Savulescu’s TEDx-talk in Barcelona in July.

The talk lasts fifteen minutes; you can watch and listen to it yourself: The Need for Moral Enhancement.

The idea is that we urgently need medicine and technology to enhance our moral skills; otherwise we will not be able to handle the global threats that we ourselves created: climate change, nuclear weapons, terrorism, starvation, escalating violence.

Globalization, in short, created a world with dimensions to which our hunter-gatherer morality isn’t adapted. Only a moral pill can save us now.

Listening to the talk, I’m struck by how archaic it sounds, despite references to modern medicine and technology. Thus fire-and-brimstone preachers always made people feel the proximity of the end of the world. Thus fire-and-brimstone preachers always made people feel that the cause of the despicable state of the world is their own moral failure. Thus preachers always forced a new awakening:

  • “You’re on the wrong path; I can show you the way!”

The difference is the use of what could be termed the modern rhetoric of empirical justification, in which all claims must be supported by evidence… that is to say, by PowerPoint slides. The rhetoric seems to direct the use of evidence, however, for evidence pointing in undesired directions isn’t cited.

Neither does Savulescu explore alternative ways of thinking. Has globalization really produced a world so big that we cannot handle it? Couldn’t one just as well claim that globalization created a world so miserably tiny and manageable that one might grieve for the death of all that is great?

In the talk, the most archaic form of moralizing is provided with a modernized rhetorical façade, in order to persuade us that only conversion to a biomedically perfected morality can save us now. It is slightly paradoxical.

No wonder the audience looks dejected.

Pär Segerdahl

The temptation of rhetoric - the ethics blog

Characterizing reality

Reality is on the move, and so are we. Therefore, we are continuously challenged to characterize it, and us, anew. What is it like today? What have we become?

I believe that Nietzsche made such a renewed characterization of reality, or of what we became in the nineteenth century, when he said: God is dead.

How does such a characterization work? Is it a statement of fact? Did Nietzsche go out into the backyard and found God lying dead on the ground, as one can discover a dead bird? Hardly, Nietzsche’s characterization of reality can be contested in a way that the death of a bird cannot.

Is it an ideological position, then, one that Nietzsche invented out of the blue and tried to impose on reality? Hardly, for it is connected with numerous factual features of nineteenth-century life, such as the steam-engine, newspapers, industry, exploration expeditions, science, democracy… I’m not enough of a historian to enumerate them all.

Taking the issue to our own times: Can you imagine a Bach writing music for the glory of God alone… living in a suburban row house area, with the car parked outside, just after shopping in the mall? It is difficult to imagine such a Bach, and Nietzsche’s statement could be said to characterize that difficulty.

If we accept Nietzsche’s statement as a striking characterization of the difficulty of imagining a modern suburban Bach, it appears almost factual. It is what reality is like; what we have become. And yet, someone could contest the characterization, and that reality, and see it as a degenerated frame of mind to resist.

So what do statements of Nietzsche’s kind do? Do they describe reality or do they merely express individual perspectives?

I find the task of characterizing our characterizations of reality as one of the most challenging philosophical problems. Its urgency is obvious in bioethics, which deals with realities that certainly are on the move. New biomedical practices continuously challenge our characterizations of embryos, of stem cells, of health and disease, of research participation…

As I indicated on The Ethics Blog last week, research participation is “on the move,” due to developments in biobanking. It no longer solely means participation in specific studies. It will more and more mean also contributing to biobank infrastructures that are constructed to support future, not yet specified studies.

Is that a fact or a position? I think we need a more nuanced characterization of our continuously renewed characterizations of reality!

Pär Segerdahl

We like real-life ethics : www.ethicsblog.crb.uu.se

Conference on global aspects of reproductive technology and surrogacy

Reproductive technology and surrogacy often is a cross-border practice that raises several ethical issues concerning the rights not only of adult participants but also of the children involved.

Do the children have a right to know about their genetic parents and do they have a right to be recognized by the countries of their contractual parents? What are the rights of surrogate mothers?

These and related questions will be discussed at an upcoming conference,

organized by The Nordic Committee on Bioethics.

Participation is free of charge. Young researchers (mainly PhD students) are invited to submit an abstract no later than May 20.

More information about abstracts, programme and registration can be found on the website of the Nordic Committee on Bioethics.

If you want to participate, register no later than August 15.

Pär Segerdahl

We recommend conferences - the ethics blog

Life scientists’ responsibility when their research has dual use

Do life scientists have moral responsibility when their research can be used not only to do good (like preventing pandemics) but also to harm others (like developing biological weapons)?

It could be tempting to think that researchers’ only responsibility is the advancement of scientific knowledge. The use and practical application of that knowledge is the responsibility of others.

The September 11 attacks made that idea much less tenable. Since then, the security sector has pushed the scientific community to take more extensive responsibility for research that could be used to develop, for example, biological weapons.

Do scientists have such a responsibility for how others might use their findings? If they do have responsibility, how is it most appropriately approached in practice? These questions are investigated by Frida Kuhlau at CRB in a dissertation that she defends on March 23:

Kuhlau argues that researchers do have a moral responsibility for research with dual use and she tries to specify the content of that responsibility. It includes, for example, always considering possible negative implications of one’s research; reporting activities of concern; being prepared to occasionally delimit the dissemination of results.

How is such responsibility best approached in practice? The traditional way of taking ethical responsibility for research is by imposing ethical regulatory systems (guidelines, codes, ethical review).

Like Linus Johnsson who defended his dissertation last Saturday, Frida Kuhlau doubts such bureaucratic attempts to ethically regulate research. Researchers need to shoulder the responsibility themselves, learning how to deliberate and take action concerning research with dual use.

Shouldering responsibility does not mean, however, doing it alone. Individual researchers normally don’t have all the competencies needed to reasonably assess possible risks of research. The scientific community and the security sector are dependent on each other. What is required to take proper responsibility, Frida Kuhlau suggests, is therefore an ethic of conversation and deliberation.

Taking moral responsibility for research with dual use presupposes ongoing communicational processes. These processes need organizational support, platforms. A novel suggestion in the dissertation is that ethical review boards could function as such platforms.

Rather than only reviewing, as ethical review boards normally do, these boards would support an ethical culture of conversation and deliberation about dual-use research.

For more information about this important dissertation, see News from Uppsala University. If you are in Sweden and want to visit the public examination, it takes place in Auditorium Minus, Museum Gustavianum, Uppsala, Saturday, March 23, 2013, at 09:15.

Pär Segerdahl

We recommend readings - the Ethics Blog

Solidarity and biobanking

The concept of solidarity is currently receiving attention in bioethics and inspires new approaches to ethical problems.

The Nuffield Council on Bioethics recently published a report – Solidarity: reflections on an emerging concept in bioethics – initiating the development of a systematic solidarity framework for approaching difficult ethical questions in biobanking, biosecurity and health inequalities.

Concerning biobank participation, for example, one of the authors of the report makes this interesting statement:

  • “In the spirit of solidarity, we believe that it is acceptable to ask participants to agree to their sample being used in any future research that is within the broad aims of the biobank and has been approved by a research ethics committee. The risks to the participant are very low yet it would save valuable time and resources for the biobank.”

It is furthermore suggested that participation agreements should replace traditional consenting procedures. – I will study this suggestion and hope I can comment on it soon.

Continuing the work in the report, the Nuffield Council on Bioethics and the Brocher Foundation organize an international symposium:

The report and the symposium appear very interesting!

Pär Segerdahl

We recommend conferences - the ethics blog

Logical laws and ethical principles: appendices to human reasoning

We tend to view logical laws and ethical principles as foundational: as more basic than ordinary discourse, and “making possible” logical and ethical reasoning. They set us on the right intellectual path, so to speak, on the most fundamental level.

I want to suggest another possibility: logical laws and ethical principles are derived from ordinary discourse. They constitute a schematic, ideal  image of what it means to make truth claims, or ethical claims, in our language. They don’t make the claims and forms of reasoning possible, however, but reflect their familiar presence in daily discourse.

Consider the logical law of non-contradiction, which states that a proposition and its negation cannot both be true simultaneously. Does this law implicitly set us on the path of non-contradictory talk, from morning to night? Or does it have another function?

Here is an alternative way of thinking about this “law of thought”:

The impression that others contradict themselves is not uncommon. When this occurs, we become uncertain what they actually say. We ask for clarifications until the sense of contradiction disappears. Not until it disappears do we recognize that something is being said.

The law of non-contradiction reflects this general feature of language. As such a reflection, however, it is derived from language and doesn’t function as a foundation of human truth-telling.

I want to make a similar proposal for ethical principles. Ethical principles – for example, of beneficence or respect for persons – reflect how people already view certain aspects of life as morally important and use them as reasons.

Ethical principles don’t “make” these aspects of life moral reasons. They just highlight, in semi-bureaucratic language, the fact that they are such reasons for people.

Consider this way of reasoning, which is perfectly in order as it stands:

  • (A) “I helped you; therefore you should help me.”

This moral reasoning is familiar to all of us. Its presence could be acknowledged in form of an ethical principle, P; a Principle of Reciprocity (“Sacrifices require services in return” etc.).

According to the view I want to leave behind, the fact that I helped you doesn’t constitute a reason until it is linked to the ethical principle P:

  • (B) “I helped you; according to Principle P, you therefore should help me.”

Ethicists typically reason the latter way, (B). That is alright too, as long as we are aware of its derived nature and don’t believe that (B) uncovers the hidden form of (A).

Ethical principles summarize, in semi-legislative language, how humans already reason morally. They function as appendices to moral reasoning; not as its backbone.

Why do we need to be aware of the derived nature of ethical principles? Because when we genuinely don’t know how to reason morally – when there are no convincing arguments of kind (A) – it is tempting to use the principles to extrapolate moral arguments of kind (B)… appendices to claims that no one makes.

Viewing ethical principles as foundational, we’re almost forced to turn to them for guidance when we are in genuine moral uncertainty. But perhaps we should rather turn to the real-life features that are at stake. Perhaps we should focus our attention on them, try to understand them better, engage with them… and wait for them to become moral reasons for us in ways we might not be able to anticipate.

As a result of this open-ended process of attentive and patient moral thinking, ethicists may discover a need for new ethical principles to reflect how forms of moral reasoning change in the process, because new aspects of life became moral reasons for us when we attended to them.

Consider as an example the ethical problem whether incidental findings about individual participants in biobank research should be returned to them. At this very moment, ethicists are working hard to help biobankers solve this genuinely difficult problem. They do it by exploring how our present canon of ethical principles might apply to the case.

Is that not a little bit like consulting a phrase book when you discover that you have nothing to say?

Pär Segerdahl

We challenge habits of thought : the Ethics Blog

Genetic exceptionalism and unforgivingness

What fuels the tendency to view genetic information as exceptionally private and sensitive? Is information about an individual’s genetic disposition for eye color more sensitive than the fact that he has blue eyes?

In Rethinking Informed Consent in Bioethics, Neil C. Manson and Onora O’Neill make heroic efforts against an avalanche of arguments for genetic exceptionalism. For each argument meant to reveal how uniquely private, how exceptionally sensitive, and how extraordinarily risky genetic information is, Manson and O’Neill find elucidating examples, analogies and comparisons that cool down tendencies to exaggerate genetic information as incomparably dangerous.

What fuels the exceptionalism that Manson and O’Neill fight? They suggest that it has to do with metaphors that tempt us to reify information; temptations that, for various reasons, are intensified when we think about DNA. Once again, their analysis is clarifying.

Another form of genetic exceptionalism strikes me, however; one that has less to do with information. I’m thinking of GMO exceptionalism. For thousands of years, humans improved plants and animals through breeding them. This traditional way of modifying organisms is not without environmental risks. When analogous risks appear with GMO, however, they tend to change meaning and become seen as extraordinary risks, revealing the ineradicable riskiness of genetic manipulation.

Why are we prepared to embrace traditionally modified organisms, TMO, when basically the same risks with GMO make us want to exterminate every genetically manipulated bastard?

Unforgivingness. I believe that this all-too familiar emotional response drives genetic exceptionalism, and many other forms of exceptionalism.

Consider the response of becoming unforgiving. Yesterday we laughed with our friend. Today we learn that he spread rumors about us. His familar smile immediately acquires a different meaning. Yesterday it was shared joy. Today it is an ugly mask hiding an intrinsically untrustworthy individual who must be put in quarantine forever. Every trait of character turns into a defect of character. The whole person becomes an objection; an exception among humans.

Manson and O´Neill are right when they analyze a tendency to reify information in genetic exceptionalism. But I want to suggest that what fuels this tendency, what makes us more than willing to yield to the temptation, is an emotional state of mind that also produces many other forms of exceptionalism.

We need to acknowledge the emotional dimension of philosophical and ethical thinking. We don’t think well when we are unforgiving towards our subject matter. We think dogmatically and unjustly.

In their efforts to think well about genetic information, Manson and O’Neill can be understood as doing forgiveness work.

They calm us down and patiently show us that our friend, although he sometimes does wrong, is not that intrinsically bad character we want to see him as, when we are in our unfortunate unforgiving state of mind.

We are helped towards a state of mind where we can think more freely and justly about the risks and benefits of genetics.

Pär Segerdahl

We want to be just - the Ethics Blog

Political ambitions threaten the intellectual integrity of bioethics

Is there a need to enhance the way bioethicists discuss enhancement?

ConAshkan Atry defended his PhD thesis on doping in 2013temporary ethical debates on human enhancement sometimes resemble bitter political debates in a city council. Implicit or explicit political agendas are expressed as normative claims and are passed as “moral” arguments because they serve “the right cause.”

Consider, for instance, James Watson who said that “we’ve got to go ahead and not worry whether we’re going to offend some fundamentalist from Tulsa, Oklahoma.”

Another example is James Hughes, who almost ridicules moral worries about enhancement by reducing them to some sort of semi-religious “irrational” technophobia.

Liberal proponents of enhancement stress the value of individual autonomy and the freedom too choose one’s lifestyle. In this perspective, any attempt to prohibit enhancement is considered to encroach upon political liberty, hence as being unjust.

Opponents to enhancement, on the other hand, stressing values such as fairness and social justice, argue that without implementing regulations and proper measures, human enhancement will widen the already existing social divide and create a further gap between those who have the means to enhance themselves and those who don’t.

Thus, what drives both parties in the ethical debate on enhancement are more general political conceptions of what social justice is or ought to be.

Human enhancement admittedly raises many important political questions. Concerns about social justice will certainly continue to play a major part in debates on enhancement. Moreover, the political and the ethical spheres admittedly may, to some extent, overlap.

However, here I wish to raise the question whether political concerns fully exhaust what one may call genuine ethical reflection upon the phenomenon of human enhancement, and to what extent political agendas are to be allowed to determine the direction of ethical debates.

What is worrying is a situation where moral philosophical debates on enhancement reach some kind of deadlock position where bioethicists, acting as mouthpieces for rigid political perspectives, simply block their ears and shout at each other as loud as they can.

Arguably, what we may understand as genuine philosophical reflection also includes hearing the other and, more importantly, critically questioning rigid perspectives which limit the ethical horizon.

Indeed, the phenomenon of human enhancement provides a platform for doing so. Human enhancement will not only transform our lives but also necessitate a continuous re-formulation of key philosophical conceptions such as autonomy, freedom, and human nature.

In this regard, the dimension of unpredictability involved in new scientific and technological innovations challenges intellectual habits and requires development of new ways of doing ethics that would enable us to cope with these rapid transformations and perhaps even to foresee upcoming issues.

Reflecting on enhancement beyond the horizon of political ideologies would be a good starting point in this direction.

Ashkan Atry

We like critical thinking : www.ethicsblog.crb.uu.se

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

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