"Bioethica" Joins Scientia's Entourage

All that has reference to what is eternal, all that in our earthly life by way of image or parable suggests what is imperishable, should rightly not be made the subject of debate, difficult though such exclusion may be. For, in so far as we translate our ways of thinking and feeling into terms of outward circumstance, in so far as we form a society about us or join such a one, something belonging to the inner world becomes externalized. What is thus established, whether received with favor or disfavor, must be maintained and defended. And so, despite ourselves, we have made a retreat from the realm of the spiritual to that of the secular, from the celestial to the earthly, and from the eternal and immutable to what is subject to the laws of time and change. -- Goethe¹

Mainstream Bioethics and Its Opposition

The time is ripe for the bioethicists. More and more ethicists--as the "experts" on right versus wrong--are being recruited to advise on the uses of molecular biology.² Bioethics information is also available to internet browsers who link to electronic magazines like Human Genome News and download bibliographies for titles on ELSI topics.³ Several hundred support groups have formed to provide information about specific "genetic disabilities."⁴ And teachers and scientists can choose from a variety of conferences and workshops to learn more about molecular biology and the HGP's ELSI project.⁵

One of the most prominent bioethicists these days is Arthur Caplan.⁶ Because of his influence as a pace-setter for medical ethics in connection with the HGP, it is very informative to look at his professional approach to get a sense of current trends in bioethics. In Moral Matters, Caplan begins by distinguishing between ethics and morals. He says morality refers to ordinary beliefs about right and wrong-- the beliefs which come from sociological and cultural sources like church, civic organizations, media, and parents--while in ethics, opinions are backed by reasoned arguments. He is careful to explain that just because morals are not necessarily backed by reasons does not mean a person's beliefs are false. The difference is that ethics is more than a simple sharing of opinions about what is right or wrong and good or bad. A person must be prepared to support opinions with an argument.⁷

But not any argument will do. You will need to find reasons and evidence that people who do not share your upbringing, your culture, your educational and religious experiences, find understandable and persuasive. Your argument must be able to stand up to challenge on either factual or logical grounds. And your argument must be consistent with arguments you might make about other related issues.⁸

In short, ethicists identify moral issues, classify moral problems, and are skilled in the way arguments from various world views can be used "to support or attack a particular position."⁹ Clearly, Caplan's method for ethical inquiry is modeled after the principles of debate. His approach is analogous to the one detailed by Warnick and Inch in Critical Thinking and Communication: The Use of Reason in Argument. Here, the authors explain how argument is defined as "a set of statements in which a claim is made, support is offered for it, and there is an attempt to influence someone."¹⁰ The emphasis is on convincing others.

This model for ethical inquiry and judgment-forming is also the basis for the HGP's manual on science, ethics, and public policy, Mapping and Sequencing the Human Genome: Science, Ethics, and Public Policy. Written to help science educators present ethics, the manual introduces students to ethical decisionmaking in the context of genetic engineering. The section on ethics begins:

Ethics is the study of what is right and wrong and what is good and bad, applied to the actions and character of individuals, institutions, and society. Ethical analysis simply is the conscious analysis and discussion of the justifications for our decisions.¹¹

Thus, the authors of the manual echo Caplan's process of rational inquiry. The words "conscious analysis" are not defined, but presumably mean "cognitive" to distinguish from "emotional." The method compares to the rational inquiry used by scientists: ask explicitly stated questions and seek well-reasoned answers. Several times the authors explain how the process demands credible arguments. To be valid, an argument must lead from reasons to conclusion according to accepted rules of logic. Repeatedly, the authors also underscore the similarity between this form of ethical analysis and the methods of science:

[E]thics requires a solid foundation of information. In particular, to ask and answer questions about the ethics of the HGP requires a solid understanding of genetic science and technology.

[T]here often are competing, well-reasoned answers to questions about what is right and wrong or good and bad regarding complex matters such as the HGP and its applications. Again, this parallels scientific inquiry.

Just as scientific evidence must be made public, the reasons for ethical arguments also must be made public.

Consequences that impair interest are labeled wrong or bad, and society should not pursue such consequences. An example from the HGP is the potential for increased knowledge of the genetic contributions to disease, which then would advance the public- health interests of society.¹²

Such comparisons show the extent to which the methods of science have been drawn into the realm of ethics to transform the hodgepodge of opinions into a "legitimate," academic discipline. Also, the bias in the language implies a superiority of the scientific method as the standard for ethical decisionmaking.

However, not everyone favors this cognitive, science-based method for judgment-forming. As Christian ethicist Karen Lebacqz points out, not all people are necessarily receptive to reasoned thinking for decisionmaking. In "The Ghosts Are on the Wall: A Parable for Manipulating Life," she suggests it is time to be more aware of the underlying biases that favor rational inquiry. She observes that many people with differing views--even opposing views--unknowingly still agree that "What we should do depends on what we know."¹³ To Lebacqz, the emphasis on "what we know" is the key. It ignores the customs and ways of a large part of the world's people. "What we know" is based on an unquestioned assumption about what knowledge is. "Both in Western science and in Western ethics," she says, "reason, scientific evidence, and logic are largely what is meant by 'knowledge.'"¹⁴ To validate her claim, she refers to the President's Commission Report on Splicing Life, which has several theologians as coauthors.¹⁵

Cautious and careful, attuned to subtle distinctions and innuendoes, modest and amazingly thorough for its length, this report is in some ways a model for ethical analysis. Yet throughout its discussion, one gets the uncomfortable feeling that too much depends on logic and rationality. The report calls for "dispassionate appraisal" and "sober recognition." It looks for the "rational kernel" in fears and admonitions. No room is made for passionate appraisal or for a form of knowledge that goes beyond rationality.¹⁶

She uses the specific example of the Commission's handling of the "playing God" issue. In the scientific fashion of logical analysis, the Commission assumes all unethical alternatives can be identified and dismissed in turn by logic and rational use of evidence. She wonders what would happen if all alternatives could be rationally rejected and there were still a reason to worry. This leads her to believe there must be other tools in addition to logical elimination. She doubts whether purely logical, unbiased, objective thinking can discover "right" answers. Actually for her, total trust in rational thinking diverts the attention from other modes of insight, like prayer, meditation, dreams, and intuition. The "monster" is the tendency to think that reality conforms to a certain way of thinking--the monstrous idolatry created by trusting human reason. Yet, lest she be misunderstood, she is quick to explain she is not "suggesting that we should give up reason, science or ethics!" She simply favors a consideration of other possible ways of experiencing the world.¹⁷

The received tradition has value, but when we stand on the threshold of something that is felt to be qualitatively new, the received tradition may not be adequate and we may need to be open to new insight.¹⁸

In her bid for a wider base of experience to assist ethical decisionmaking, Lebacqz never totally rejects science. But, as philosopher James Rachels notes, in this age when crises seem so problematic, even a pessimism about ethics can seem understandable, even rational. He suggests this is because people with different views of ethics go to the extreme in one direction or the other. For instance, sociologists and psychologists reject an objective standard of right versus wrong, that is absolutist and independent of everyone's beliefs. In the face of this cultural relativism, ethics has no foundation and becomes irrelevant. On the other hand, the value of ethics based on rational inquiry is betrayed when logic leads no closer to truth and the person becomes emotional. For Rachels, however, a resignation to how one "cares" about something does not detract from the objective nature of ethics. Instead, it simply heightens the need to be reserved in our reliance on the analytical method. Ethics can give valuable reasons for why an act should be carried out. Yet, human nature being what it is, such reasons inevitably must work in concert with the feelings.¹⁹

Psychologist Sidney Callahan lends further support to the worthy contribution made by emotions in ethical decisionmaking: "Emotions have to be taken into account in determining how people make difficult decisions on matters in which there are strong opposing arguments."²⁰ She believes the influences of behaviors and attitudes are inevitable and, therefore, acceptable. Her ideal is a balance between emotion and reason--each teaching the other, but also keeping itself in check. To support her claim, she mentions the way children in every culture can develop feelings of guilt and shame, as if predisposed to a sense of morality before their intellects are fully developed. Yet, someone who is considered highly intelligent may not experience any feelings whatsoever of an inner obligation for right action and may even disregard all moral rules.²¹

Like Callahan, Paul Maslow cautions against ethical decisions based on reason alone:

The danger inherent in the intellectual approach to morality lies in its ability to change with belief. The individual may be honest or dishonest on principle; one is just as logical as the other since both are a matter of choice.²²

Taken to the extreme, this is a picture of honesty in one moment and dishonesty in the next, yet without guilt because both can be rationalized as ethical. To him, ethics and morality resemble each other superficially, since both are knowledge of right and wrong. However, the first arises from the head and the other, from the heart:

In the ethical individual morals are intellectual conceptions, in the moral individual spontaneous feelings. Ideology turns the ethical individual against the primitive personality, the moral intuit does not need to refine his nature. The first voluntarily promotes morality, the second does it unknowingly.

The chief words in Maslow's comparison are: head versus heart, intellect versus intuition, thinking versus feeling, and conscious versus unconscious. But in all cases, it is a matter of one versus the other, not the sense of a balanced interaction as spoken of by Sidney Callahan. To Maslow, the stronger the intuition, the less the need for ethical principles. The truly moral individual does not have to work at being moral, but rather simply is moral. He calls it moral intuition. The moral intuition is based on conscience. The conscience warns against egocentricity, scorns wrong action, and forces right action in terms of moral intuitions and ethical principles.²³ However, while approving the moral stature of heart-thinking, Maslow does not clearly state whether his ideal for individual morality is independent of culture, i.e., universally objective.

Still one more example of a critic of the strictly rational approach is George Pugh. In The Biological Origin of Human Values, he devotes more than 400 pages to present his thesis that the brain is a biological control system in which inherited behavioral tendencies operate through the rational mind to motivate conscious human behavior, including values.²⁴ Interestingly, in the last few paragraphs, he turns somewhat against rationality and criticizes "the curse of specialization" in technical education, which focuses more on economics and professional skills than human objectives. He is put off by all the attention to the classical, positivist ideals of objectivity and detachment as these are espoused among scientists and mathematicians. He believes they are destructive to human values.²⁵ For him, a meaningful and satisfying life can only be based upon

concern, commitment, and faith. To appreciate the warmth of love or the joy of success, we must care enough to be willing to work and sacrifice. To suppress our concern for human values is to suppress the essence of life.²⁶

Pugh's "art of living" is accomplished by "following the dictates of the heart, as well as the logic of the intellect."²⁷ By intellect, he means the know-how of the present--by heart, he means human wisdom, both past and present. But what he does not tell is how people are to accomplish the ideal. He leaves it for one of his future projects in which he will address the symbolic and emotional aspects of his theory. In short, Pugh yearns to know the mysteries of human existence that can only be accessed through subjectivity and emotions. Eventually, he even refers to the role of the "human spirit" in the process and, without explaining the concept, says:

The modern educational emphasis on the scientific method, combined with the deemphasis of spiritual, religious, and philosophical concepts, has produced a distortion in our culture in which "rational" materialistic values are exaggerated and the spiritual and emotional values are largely ignored or suppressed by the "rational" mind.

One of the objectives of this book is to help redress this balance; to restore to the human spirit its rightful role as the ultimate guide to human goals and aspirations. In an earlier age, this message could have been carried in song and poetry direct to the human heart. Today, our lives have become so intellectualized that the message must be addressed to the head in order to reach the heart.²⁸

Undoubtedly, from all so far said in this paper, there is considerable esteem for the intellect's role in ethics. Even those who are distressed by its dominance generally cling to it as a necessary contributer to ethical decisionmaking. By way of contrast, though, Paul Feyerabend has little or no regard for reason. Feyerabend poses one of the most extreme rebukes of it in his Farewell to Reason. Using an argumentative style, he uses a form of logic to hammer hard at the intellectual pillars of mainstream science. What bothers him is the arrogance born from reason, rationality, and objectivity--the way scientists connect these activities with a favored idea to "surround it with a halo of excellence."²⁹ Reason, he argues, is the tool they use to patronize all the nonscientists. Thereby, the scientists' paradigm thrives and spreads Western business, science and technology into the world. In its wake, cultural diversity disappears--the many succumb to "cultural monotony." His alternative is to emphasize tolerance for variety and to encourage everyone's participation:

[T]here exist no "objective" reasons for preferring science and Western rationalism to other traditions. Indeed, it is difficult to imagine what such reason might be. Are they reasons that would convince a person, or the members of a culture, no matter what their customs, their beliefs or their social situation?³⁰

For Feyerabend, the world-wide dominance of Western science and technology was, in fact, not won because of dialogues with reasonable and truthful arguments, but through force:

It not only destroyed spiritual values which gave meaning to human lives, it also damaged a corresponding mastery of the material surroundings without replacing it by methods of comparable efficiency. "Primitive" tribes knew how to deal with natural disasters such as plagues, floods, droughts--they had an "immune system" that enabled them to overcome a great variety of threats to the social organism. In normal periods they exploited their environment without damaging it, using knowledge of the properties of plants, animals, climatic changes and ecological interactions which we are only slowly recovering.³¹

Feyerabend's villains are the ones who think they know what humanity needs and work "to recreate people in their own, sorry image."³²

As far as I am concerned there exists no difference between the henchmen of Auschwitz and these "benefactors of mankind"--life is misused for special purposes in both cases. The problem is the growing disregard for spiritual values and their replacement by a crude but "scientific" materialism, occasionally even called humanism.³³

With such strong attacks against science, it is not surprising that his critics label him as "the anarchist scientist."³⁴ Still, like Sidney Callahan, Lebacqz, Maslow, and Pugh, he makes a critical point: reason can be misused if it is so objectified that all human subjectivity--and its associated sense of value--is lost. Behind his tirade against reason is a call for something other than single-minded attention to thinking without feeling. However, unlike Sidney Callahan's equilibrium between reason and emotion, Feyerabend is not eager to include the intellect in the dialogue, even as one form of "cultural perspective" to be tolerated among the many.

Nicholas Maxwell takes issue with the ones like Feyerabend who might go so far as to exile reason from humanhood. Instead, Maxwell thinks reason is the means by which people can eventually supplant the "philosophy of knowledge" of mainstream science with a new world view, a "philosophy of wisdom."³⁵ It sounds similar to Pugh's stress on a path which leads to the heart.

To Maxwell, wisdom is the necessary reply to the destruction caused by the "philosophy of knowledge." His version of wisdom is founded on cognitive reasoning, but it is not the purely intellectual form of empirical science with its ideal of complete objectivity--the exclusion of feelings, desires, aims, values, and personal experience--as the means to truth. Rather, Maxwell's premise is that a purely objective science is irrational. Any inquiry that ignores any accounting of "what is of most value in life" makes no sense to him.³⁶ He claims the type of knowledge-seeking common to scientists attends to secondary, peripheral issues, while the real problems are excluded from intellectual discourse.

One damaging effect of the irrationality promoted by scientific thinking, Maxwell argues, is a rise in the general distrust of reason. This echoes Rachels' point about how someone, through logic, could become pessimistic about ethics. But Maxwell thinks such distrust is mistaken, since it assumes that scientific inquiry is rational when it is really irrationality masquerading as the rational.³⁷ As examples of writers who make this mistake, he cites Feyerabend, Blake, Dostoyevsky, Ellul, Roszak, and D. H. Lawrence. Maxwell's response to this disastrous fate for reasoning is his philosophy of wisdom, which has as its central task

to devote reason to the enhancement of wisdom--wisdom being understood here as the desire, the active endeavour, and the capacity to discover and achieve what is desirable and of value in life, both for oneself and for others.³⁸

He likens the philosophy of wisdom to a religious enterprise. Both are concerned fundamentally with religious ideas and problems. However, Maxwell's definition of "religion" does not embrace the authoritarian and antirational qualities of most religious traditions. He rejects the usual idea of God as all powerful, all knowing and all loving. He says this notion is also illogical, immoral, and a religious obscenity, for no such God would be knowingly responsible for all the human suffering. Maxwell resurrects the name "God" by making it synonymous with "cosmic love," the quality which he believes is essential for all human life in these times. Though people are potentially profoundly loving, he says, we are also often ignorant and powerless of how to nurture cosmic love. His version of the philosophy of wisdom is also objectivistic and independent of what anyone may or may not believe. As he puts it, if all value systems were equally good, as suggested by the value- subjectivists, nothing in reality would be of value.³⁹

Pluralism and the Talk about "Something New"

While Feyerabend favors a world with the greatest variety in world views and Maxwell clings to his preferred value system of wisdom, others struggle more with the problem of how ethical decisions can ever be finalized in pluralistic settings. Human diversity complicates the decisionmaking process, especially when people are not familiar with the methods of science or, as pointed out by Lebacqz, have traditions that are incommensurable with the scientific approach. In practical terms, science literacy and informed decisionmaking may not be possible for all, unless teachers seriously address the decisionmaking process itself in the context of nonscientific views in a multicultural setting. For instance, consider how difficult it would be if Native Americans were to enter an ethical inquiry and contribute their spiritual perspective about the morality and ethics of the HGP and the engineering of animals and plants? How likely will their concerns be addressed, when they diverge so drastically from the dogmas of mainstream science and medicine? A case in point is the Human Genome Diversity Project, the analysis of DNAs from indigenous peoples to determine their cultural and genetic diversity.⁴⁰ Can the current, dominant mode of ethical inquiry offer these peoples more than just a "respectful" acknowledgement of their beliefs and their concerns about the research--as is the recommended approach in the HGP's ELSI manual?⁴¹ Or is it time to develop an attitude based on an entirely new method for inquiry?

Suzuki and Knudtson offer an answer in Genethics: The Clash between the New Genetics and Human Values. They believe the dilemmas caused by biotechnology will require a new, global way of thinking to solve problems. They wonder: "Where can we turn for moral guidance as we try to cope with this avalanche of difficult and disturbing moral issues?" and "[S]hould we seek guidance only from the traditional moral authorities of the Western societies that gave birth to modern genetics?"⁴² As a remedy, they suggest Ten Genethics Principles, the tenth of which is their key to something new:

The search for meaningful ethical principles to help guide us through difficult personal and collective decisions arising from the applications of modern genetics will be an endless process. To succeed, it must lead us beyond the rigid boundaries of Western science and even Western philosophical thought to rich, cross-cultural realms that embrace other ways of knowing.⁴³

Suzuki and Knudtson's "new mythology" sounds distinctly like a revolution against science as we now know it:

The aim of such efforts would be to forge a new, cross-cultural synthesis of moral values that addresses the most disturbing questions raised by modern molecular genetics and genetic engineering. It would be forged from elements drawn from the rich diversity of myths, rituals and other expressions of human values concerning such timeless topics as heredity, life and death, and the natural world. Out of a mingling of the moral vision of many cultures and the latest insights of molecular genetics might gradually emerge what could be called a new and scientifically relevant mythology for our times--one steeped not only in the myth-shattering truths of science but also in the values that might help us use that scientific knowledge wisely and humanely. ... [T]o be relevant, this new mythology will have to evoke in human beings--scientists and nonscientists alike--an abiding sense of awe and humility toward all biological systems, whose stunning complexities continue to outstrip our richest imagination.⁴⁴

To avoid being misunderstood, Suzuki and Knudtson emphasize how they do not reject their peers in science. Instead, their ideal is a blend which includes science among the many ingredients. Still, biologist John Maddox disagrees with their proposal. He admits to the inevitable complexities of the ethical issues. Yet, he believes we already have the know-how to handle them:

Indeed, the availability of gene sequences, and ultimately of the sequence of the whole genome, will not create ethical problems that are intrinsically novel, but will simply make it easier, cheaper and more certain to pursue well-established objectives in the breeding of plants, animals and even people. That is the principle by which the research community should stand.⁴⁵

Maddox is not alone with his "no new ethics" position. Darryl Macer agrees and takes issue specifically with Suzuki and Knudtson's Genethics Principles, especially the tenth one. "This concept," he says, "should be stopped before it grows further because almost all the issues raised by application of genetics are not novel."⁴⁶ What makes him uncomfortable is their assumption that the expected issues cannot be resolved with existing ethical principles or Western morals and that we must turn to Eastern religion.⁴⁷ Macer's alternative--a sign of his Christian perspective--is for humanity to practice its responsibility of "stewardship" towards the earth and its inhabitants and to participate with nature, not dominate over it.⁴⁸

Macer steers clear of any extremist-sounding calls for a revolt. Instead, he advises renewed discussions about ethics and seeks assurances that scientists and technologists will be responsible.⁴⁹ But he is vague about the nature of his version of "renewed" discussions. In what sounds like an echoing of the ethics model in the HGP manual on ethics, Macer reaffirms the need for a debate-style approach to ethics which is based on analyses of risk versus benefit. By combining this approach with greater attention to the principles of autonomy--self-determination based on informed, personal choice--and justice, society would be practicing what he terms "bioethical maturity." In many respects, Macer's position is similar to Suzuki and Knudtson's genethics. Like them, Macer expresses great sensitivity to non-Western perspectives in his vision of a "universal bioethics" which cuts across the differences arising from the biological, social and spiritual traits of humanity. But, he is also quick to point to the essential role to be taken by "love."⁵⁰ This word is not to be found in the Genethics Principles.

The Search for Consensus

At first glance, there may seem little in common between the ethics of biotechnology and the practical sociology of pluralistic societies. However, closer examination reveals the extent to which the effects of genetic engineering may relate to people's views of life and how much they believe scientists should be able to tamper with it. Since gene technology will likely affect all people eventually--albeit only indirectly--it is justified to respect the varied views of all peoples. Though people like Lebacqz, Feyerabend, Macer, Suzuki, and Knudtson have contrasting perspectives, all join in the urging for participation of all perspectives in the dialogue. Indeed, one of the greatest challenges in the bio-age may center on how to bridge the differences between people and reach some mutual understanding. For some, the hope is in consensus, "uniformity of belief and evaluation."⁵¹

The authors of the HGP ELSI manual give great weight to the process of consensus-seeking and make it one of their standards for credible arguments:

The second standard requires that all premises or reasons count as good reasons for everyone. To satisfy this standard, a student must be able to say why everyone should accept that reason as important and relevant to the issue at hand. It is not enough for a student to say that the reason is important to him or her.⁵²

The manual's wording also counsels students to respect their classmates' religious beliefs--what Arthur Caplan refers to as "morality." Yet, the authors of the manual also follow this by saying religious convictions are irrelevant to ethical inquiry, if they only reflect terms and concepts that are important to the person making the argument or to the person's faith tradition. Students are advised that reasons based on religious beliefs can be legitimate only if the reasons are expressed in terms that are important to everyone, i.e., consensus.⁵³

But, consensus is another of the mainstays of science, which has worked its way into prominence in the bioethics of biotechnology. In The Sciences and the Arts: A New Alliance, chemist Harold Cassidy compares the methods of science and the arts. He points to impartial, scientific objectivity as the means to counter subjectivity and the myth of "personal objectivity." Scientific objectivity, he says, relates to "the grand method of science" and depends on a mutual consensus--a "public aspect," a "cooperative effort"--among scientists.⁵⁴

No matter how scrupulous, well-meaning, and careful an individual may be, he may still err without knowing it. He may be led astray through the "delicate duplicity" of things. Therefore, he must always be open to criticism. This is the public aspect of scientific objectivity. Scientific objectivity is the result of free criticism and of cooperation by many scientists. Along with this critical attitude, which accepts no "authorities" in science, there is the cooperative effort to speak the same language, to make communication effective.⁵⁵

Ian Barbour is more direct in his use of the word "consensus." In Issues in Science and Religion, he speaks of the attitudes and traditions that hold the scientific community together and says:

Joint acceptance of these beliefs, and the presence of common loyalties and commitments, make self-government possible, so that the authority of the community's consensus and of particular prerogatives, such as those of a journal editor, are voluntarily acknowledged rather than externally imposed. ... Preparation for a career in science involves not just memorizing information and acquiring skills, but coming to share attitudes by participating in the life of a particular community.⁵⁶

Likewise, in the context of what he calls the paradigm of normal science, Thomas Kuhn speaks of the scientists' unspoken agreement--or consensus--on the legitimate criteria for what can be studied by members of the community. In The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, he says:

[One] of the things a scientific community acquires with a paradigm is a criterion for choosing problems that, while the paradigm is taken for granted, can be assumed to have solutions. To a great extent these are the only problems that the community will admit as scientific or encourage its members to undertake. Other problems, including many that had previously been standard, are rejected as metaphysical, as the concern of another discipline, or sometimes as just too problematic to be worth the time. A paradigm can, for that matter, even insulate the community from those socially important problems that are not reducible to the puzzle form, because they cannot be stated in terms of the conceptual and instrumental tools the paradigm supplies.⁵⁷

Despite its persistent appeal in the history of Western philosophy and science, consensus-seeking is not favored by everyone. As might be guessed from what was said earlier about Feyerabend, he objects to it because it tempers diversity in the process of ethical decisionmaking.⁵⁸ Nicholas Rescher--another pluralist--agrees. In the opening pages of Pluralism: Against the Demand for Consensus, he sums up the difference between the consensus-seeker and the pluralist in the face of disagreement. The consensualist says, "Do whatever is needed to avert discord. Always and everywhere work for consensus." By contrast, the pluralist says, "Accept the inevitability of dissensus in a complex and imperfect world. Strive to make the world safe for disagreement. Work to realize processes and procedures that make dissensus tolerable if not actually productive."⁵⁹

Rescher presents a useful "is not" list of what he believes are not features of consensus:

is not a criterion of truth
is not a standard of value
is not an index of moral or ethical appropriateness
is not a requisite for co-operation
is not a communal imperative for a just social order
is not, in and of itself, an appropriate ideal⁶⁰

Rescher admits to the value of consensus within a community, for it can help remove some errors that arise from personal bias and individual carelessness. However, he is wary of any inquiry which depends on rational argumentation to lead people to a common view or to what might be deemed as "truth":

For argument alone, however cogent, can only lead us to where our premisses direct, so that we cannot take the line that truth lies on the side of the best arguments.⁶¹

Still, what Rescher introduces at first as a go-ahead for dissensus changes into a form of ethics based on reason and rational discussion. To keep from being misunderstood, Rescher explains how his concept of pluralism is not to be confused with "indifferentism"--the extreme form of relativism which insists there is no rational way to choose the one from among the many. Instead, Rescher's version is a "cognitive relativism" in which each sensible person has a right to take a specific perspective. For "just as long as I," he says, "proceed configuring my cognitive standards and criteria in a rationally conscientious way I shall, ipso facto, be rationally justified in holding and using them."⁶² To counter those who might insist that he verges on a form of conformity, he says:

Co-ordination is achieved not because I insist on their conforming to me, but because I have made every reasonable effort to make mine only that which (as best I can tell) ought to be everyone's. ... The conformity to rational standards is--or ought to be--produced not by megalomania but by humility.⁶³

Rescher's admonition "to make mine only that which ought to be everyone's" sounds a bit like Immanuel Kant's categorical imperative with its reference to universal duty.⁶⁴

In On the New Frontiers of Genetics and Religion, the report of a conference funded by the HGP, J. Robert Nelson takes on the question whether consensus is possible among Christians. His immediate answer is: "Probably not."⁶⁵ The answer is based on official religious positions about gene technology from the World Council of Churches, the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A., the Church of the Brethren, the Episcopal Church, the United Methodist Church, and United Church of Christ. Both he and Audrey Chapman, who offers an analysis of some of these positions, suggest the real problem is in trying to correlate ethical guidance from religious and theological insight with observed facts of any situation--there simply are no systematic answers that could be said to form a consensus. Moreover, many who advocate Christian ethical persuasion do not favor "the greatest good for the greatest number."⁶⁶ This too makes consensus unlikely.

Yet, undaunted by the dissensus among the Christians, Nelson takes on the still more ambitious project of identifying areas of "correlation" between religious faith and scientific knowledge. With such an exercise, he hopes to understand where the frontiers of genetics and religion meet. Using a series of twenty-one beliefs, insights, and issues that relate to genetic engineering, Nelson tabulated the reactions of three types of people: scientific materialist, questioning believer, and confirmed believer. As would be expected, Nelson found correlations only when participants could understand each other in dialogue and be willing to learn from the others. Interestingly, both Christians and scientific materialists were found to agree usually about the indispensable value of compassion and love, but also found to have different explanations for them--whether from "God, who is love" or from "genetic compulsions of altruism to perpetuate the species."⁶⁷ But, this is not surprising in view of the differences between the spiritual and material perspectives. It simply accentuates the size of the abyss that separates the two. Clearly, some tolerance may be possible, but not a true consensus.

A Role for Religion and Spirituality in the Face of Pluralism

In the late '60s and early '70s, bioethics was strongly influenced by thinkers in the religious community. In those days, it was common for ethicists to ask questions in the context of religion and spirituality. However, as Daniel Callahan explains in "Religion and the Secularization of Bioethics," bioethics turned from the umbrella of religion and became more attuned to philosophical and legal concepts. He suggests this shift from spirituality poses a "threat," because it has led to a dependence on the legal system as a basis for morality. Furthermore, it denies direct access to the accumulated wisdom of the religious traditions, and it forces people to keep their private lives out of the public forum.⁶⁸ In short, the rigor of the morality has been toned down into a form of public morality that meets more of the group's needs.

In "Religion, Theology, Church, and Bioethics," ethicist and divinity professor Martin Marty puts a different emphasis on this swing away from religion.⁶⁹ He suggests the secularization of theology--and its offspring, bioethics--was an intentional response to the rising prestige of philosophy in academia, the multi-cultural setting of medical clinics, the separation of religion from government sponsored programs, and the general acceptance of the academic ethos by ethics practitioners. Only by changing their discipline could the theologians develop an all-inclusive ethics. But, it was at the expense of quieting the theologians' inspirations from the spiritual dimensions of their discipline.

Religion was to deal with the spiritual realm and science and politics were to treat the bio-realm. Medical professionals treated the body and religious professionals treated the soul.⁷⁰

Marty agrees that the times demand a form of public discourse which is non-religious, rational, and without reference to divine revelation. But, he is also confident that religion can continue to benefit secular theology and bioethics, albeit more indirectly compared to its role in the past.

[T]he religious 'help' the liberal culture along because they return to it, having changed it somewhat and themselves more. But the spiritual concerns they bring from their retreats more and more are coming back into the language of bioethics and medical ethics.⁷¹

One way in which the "religious help" manifests, he suggests, is in situations when a reasonable person is not convinced by arguments founded on the majority's criteria for justice and truth. It is then that the person can resort to any number of alternatives such as intuition, feelings, tradition, religious convictions, authority, and the teachings of the theologians.⁷²

***

For the second time, the thread has deviated from the opening topic. This time, shifting into the realm of morals and spirituality. Thus, I close this section and move on to the next scene. For, it is in the Third Part where I delve into the moral implications and spiritual dimensions of biotechnology in the context of human evolution.

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