Only human

In one of the creepiest scenarios in Steven Spielberg and Stanley Kubrick's new movie A.L, there is something called a Flesh Fair. In this sci-fi fantasy, human beings have developed technology so refined that they can create mechanical humans that appear almost as real as organic ones. These "mechas" are essentially a slave class: They perform chores, replace lost children, even have their body parts distributed for various uses. At Flesh Fairs, mechas are displayed and killed for amusement, their body parts sometimes traded and reused. They are humans entirely as means-not ends. And, of course, they're not truly human at all. They're robots simulating humans. But even robots, Spielberg and Kubrick seem to suggest, merit some dignity.

If robots deserve dignity, shouldn't blastocysts? In thinking about stem-cell research, the image of the Flesh Fair still resonates. In A.1. humans use pseudohumans for sport; they chop them up, dissect them, then throw them away. When we watch the movie, we naturally recoil. But when we read essentially the same story in the newspapers-about events happening now-we manage to keep calm.

Is the analogy a stretch? Supporters of stem-cell research say blastocysts are not human beings. Or, even if they are human, they are not beings. They are no more human than, say, a clipped fingernail (which contains all the DNA information for an entire person, just as accurately as a blastocyst). Clearly, however, the fingernail comparison misses something important. A fingernail would not become a mature human being if implanted in a womb. The real question is whether this distinction amounts to a moral difference.

One criterion to distinguish a real human being-with rights and dignity-from an embryo or a fingernail might be viability. The blastocyst, while clearly the same species as the rest of us, cannot survive independent of scientific paraphernalia, a freezer, or a womb. Hence it's not a human being-and can morally be experimented on. That's a clear line-but it opens up a host of other possibilities. If "viability" independent of a mother or others is the criterion, why shouldn't the physically incapacitated or the very old be consigned to medical experimentation? Why not those in comas or on life support? If they're going to die anyway and have no ability to fend for themselves, what's the point of wasting their bodies when they could yield valuable medical insights? Yes, we could wait till they're deadbut they're far more useful to science alive.

Other criteria might be the ability to feel pain, think rationally, or be self-conscious. Since an embryo (so far as we know) can do none of these things, it's fair game. But again, these criteria make others who are similarly limited-such as those with Alzheimer's, or the paraplegic, or the insane-equal grist for the scientific mill. This is especially the case with those whose mental capacity renders them unable to give meaningful consent. Why ask at all if, like embryos, such pseudo-humans cannot say yes or no? Perhaps some people might even give their consent in advance for such work. For ethical purposes, these people could be protected from physical pain during experimentation until their death.

Supporters of stem-cell research won't go that far. Except that they already have. What, after all, makes a human being a human being? Scientists would say a human is defined by its DNA-the genetic coding that makes our species different from any others. Stem-cell research enthusiasts say we are defined by our DNA and our stage of development. They say a blastocyst is so unformed that it cannot be equated with a fetus, let alone with an adult. But it remains a fact-indeed one of the marvels of creation-that the embryo contains exactly the same amount of genetic information as you or I do. We aren't different from it in kind, only different in degree: in age, size, weight, gender, and on and on. In fact, in some sense, a blastocyst is the purest form of human being-genderless, indistinguishable to the naked eye from any other, unencumbered with the accoutrements of society and experience-and yet as unique as any human being who has ever lived or ever will. To extinguish it is surely not to extinguish something other than us. It is to extinguish us.

Consider these analogies. Federal law makes it a crime to kill or injure a bald eagle. It is also a crime to kill or injure a bald eagle's egg. We recognize that to kill one is the same as to kill the other. Similarly, I cannot remember the last time an apple farmer responded to an early frost by saying, "Never mind, we lost the fertilized blossom, but the apples will be fine." Of course, the apples won't be fine. Once the blossom is dead, the apples will never arrive. And once a blastocyst is killed, the human being coiled inexorably inside is no more. If that isn't killing, what is? And why are we more coherent when it comes to eagles than when it comes to humans?

Some may say that nature itself allows many blastocysts to die. What else are miscarriages? It is true that such tragedies happen all the time. But just because earthquakes happen doesn't mean massacres are justified. And our intuitive moral response to a woman who has had a miscarriage is not the same as our response to a woman who has had a haircut or even to a woman who has lost a limb. One might conceivably justify allowing extra blastocysts to be created and lost as collateral damage in an artificial insemination (although, the more I think about this, the less defensible it seems). But to turn around and use those extra blastocysts for experimentation is a completely separate step. It is to treat human life purely instrumentally. I know of no better description of evil.

Such evil cannot be morally counterbalanced by any good that medical breakthroughs might bring. This is especially true when it's possible to cultivate stem cells from other sources. Perhaps those sources are not as fecund as embryos-but that means we are confronted not by a trade-off between any research into stem cells and preserving human life, but between better, faster stem-cell research and human life. Under those conditions, it's not that close a call. After all, are we currently beset by the problem of scientific breakthroughs that aren't fast enough? Surely the opposite is true (or at least also true): We are beset by scientific breakthroughs that are occurring far faster than we have the moral language or the experience to deal with. Is a slight deceleration in that research too high a price to pay for removing even the chance that we may be taking human life?

I'm not dismissing the real pain of those dying of terminal illnesses who might conceivably be saved by this research--or the pain of their families. We should indeed do all we can to end and abate any and all disease. I write as someone with a deeply vested interest in such research. But life should be measured not by how long it is lived but by how it is lived. If my life were extended one day at the expense of one other human's life itself, it would be an evil beyond measure. Some things cannot be simply bargained or rationalized away. And one of those things is surely life itself.

Andrew Sullivan is a senior edtior of The New Republic magazine in which this article first appeared (July 30). Reprinted by permission of The New Republic, 2001, The New Republic, Inc.

Copyright Human Life Foundation, Incorporated Summer 2001
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