The Script Turns to "Biotechnologia" as Incentive for Moral Evolution

Often in life, when we have been pursuing our course with the greatest assurance, we realize with a start that we have been caught up in error. We had drifted into intimacy with persons and things on fictitious premises under a sort of day-dream spell, and the moment we open our eyes the whole fabric of illusion has dissolved into thin air. Yet we are unable to disengage ourselves; a power that seems beyond comprehension holds us fast. Sometimes, however, it happens that we become fully alerted and then we realize that illusion has been just as efficacious a spur to activity as a genuine interest. Inasmuch as initiative is the decisive factor in all concerns of life, an active illusion can result in positive gains, because every act is infinite in its effects. Positive productivity is always to be preferred, to be sure, but even a destructive act can thus involve fortunate consequences.
-- Goethe¹

The Turn from Nature to Science and Its Biotechnology

As told in the opening Prologue, the medallion for the Nobel prize for chemistry and physics is engraved with the images of the goddesses Natura and Scientia. Acting out the changing of the reign, Natura succumbs as Scientia lifts Natura's veil--the aboriginal, spiritual commune with Natura yields to the modern, analytical study about nature. No longer must whoever follows Scientia be a mere, compliant participant in the designs of Natura and her host of spiritual companions. Instead, the knowledge emblazoned on Scientia's scroll beckons her entourage with the power to rule over nature. All who possess it can work to wield their own manipulations of the natural world, even redirect evolution's course according to their own intentions.

The intensity between the goddesses is compelling. For science historian Thomas Kuhn, it could perhaps be used to illustrate the revolutionary shift in paradigms, when a crisis developed between the mythical view of nature and the version of thinking now common to scientists. As he puts it,

scientific revolutions are inaugurated by a growing sense, again often restricted to a narrow subdivision of the scientific community, that an existing paradigm has ceased to function adequately in the exploration of an aspect of nature to which that paradigm itself had previously led the way. In both political and scientific development the sense of malfunction that can lead to crisis is prerequisite to revolution.²

However, poet I. A. Richards might liken the scene to the loss of the ancient Magical View--belief in Spirits and Powers which control events, but which can be conjured and swayed by human practices. In Science and Poetry, he calls the transition

the Neutralization of Nature, the transference from the Magical View of the world to the scientific, a change so great that it is perhaps only paralleled historically by the change, from whatever adumbration of a world-picture preceded the Magical, to the Magical View itself.³

On the other hand, sociobiologists Lumsden and Wilson might be more inclined to relate the goddesses' interaction to the appearance of the human as a unique product of coevolution in response to cultural influences. In Promethean Fire: Reflections on the Origin of Mind, they explain it as:

Somehow the evolving species kindled a Promethean fire, a self- sustaining reaction that carried humanity beyond the previous limits of biology. This largely unknown evolutionary process we have called gene-culture coevolution ... in which culture is generated and shaped by biological imperatives while biological traits are simultaneously altered by genetic evolution in response to cultural innovation.⁴

Then, for someone like Owen Barfield who speaks about human evolution in the context of both physical and spiritual activities, the theatrics might be used to represent the coming of a new impulse in human self-awareness. In Saving the Appearances: A Study in Idolatry, he speaks of a time when the more ancient, communal experience of the world through "figuration"--the process of changing sensations into representations called "things"--was joined by "alpha thinking," the cognitive process which sets "the that" apart from "the I":

For now our very attitude is, to treat them as independent of ourselves; to accept their 'outness' as self-evidently given; and to speculate about or to investigate their relations with each other.⁵

But, whatever the interpretation, the final effect is the same: human consciousness has evolved. The ancient spirit- imagination attuned with the world has been succeeded by reasoned concepts about the world--no longer are we instinctively bound to Natura's Rulings and the authority they exerted over our ancestors.

Instead, analytical thought, the force contained in what is inscribed on Scientia's scroll, is the outward sign of what distinguishes our cognitive experience from that of earlier times. For many who are scientific-minded, to have a spiritual conception of the world--perhaps by being soulfully involved or in the spirit--is to have a mistaken picture of reality. Nowadays, the scientific mind directs the attention and thoughts to the world in its material form, according to the methods of empiricism.⁶ And the ideal? To remove "the self" from the observation and be objective. For only then may the clarity of observation and thinking bring the scientist closer to the world's foundations, so nature's laws may be understood and thereby, nature may become predictable and controllable.⁷ Or might this also be a mistaken impression?

Indeed, the supernatural way of the ancients is on the wane all across our science-oriented world. In its place, the sense of a new-found independence from nature's dominion has appeared. For some, gene manipulation may simply be a new spin on the very old practice of remaking nature by working the land and breeding plants and animals. In those days, the tools were simple. Now they are "sophisticated" machines. Yet, from out of the depths of molecular biology, something new has been added. The biologists can "breed" new life forms that transcend all barriers imposed by the otherwise natural infertility between incompatible organisms. Moreover, once the DNA is removed from its original life-source--whether human, animal, plant, fungal, or bacterial-- scientists can even freely move it across the natural boundaries that up to now have kept the kingdoms apart. But, in return for this freedom, might there be justified reasons to have doubt about our newly gained dominion? Might there even be hidden flaws in the runes on Scientia's scroll and deceptions around the glowing promises of what can be done to better humanity and the Planetary Being? What about the need to develop a still deeper consciousness for the moral responsibility of what we do? Might the unveiling of Natura eventually enflame events which, because we might still be blind, are not foreseen in her features?

In fact, these days Scientia's offspring "Biotechnologia" appears to be the one under intense scrutiny--as if still another deity meets Scientia's face, perhaps to lift a now-invisible veil that drapes over her being, or perhaps to redo what is on her scroll. For even the "experts" are unsure of what will happen as people begin to debate about the desirability of rearranging the genes according to the standards set by the "new eugenics" of the bio- age.

Scientia and "Bioethica" in Transition

As early as 1984, the National Council of the Churches of Christ was predicting the revolutionary effects that are certain to trail the discoveries and applications of molecular biology:

It may well be that this new turning point in molecular science is as radical as Copernicus's discovery in the sixteenth century that the earth revolved around the sun and not vice versa. It may be as far-reaching as Darwin's theory of evolution. It may be as crucial to our understanding of reality as Einstein's theory of the nature of matter. With each discovery we have had to rethink our scheme of the universe and the role of humanity in it.⁸

Wilkie gives a similar opinion in Perilous Knowledge, but he thinks the DNA revolution may only trigger "one of Kuhn's lesser revolutions when compared to developments such as Darwin's theory of evolution."⁹ He believes society will be transformed, as will the view of our place in the scheme of things. He also predicts that the study of genes from animals and people will rekindle the science-religion clash about the divine favor for humans--especially if results show the possibility for descent of humans and apes from a common ancestor. Similarities between animal and human DNAs will provoke questions about whether what is done to animals is morally acceptable. Moreover, he points to the possibility that, as more specific diseases, traits, and behaviors are attributed to specific genes, we may all become reductionists and thereby miss the complex richness of life in its entirety.¹⁰ Finally, Wilkie comments on the irony that the HGP's most important function may be "to transcend itself and teach us ... that genes and genetics are not the fundamental basis of human life."¹¹ As he explains, the Project may help us

to redefine our sense of our own moral worth and to find a way of asserting, in the face of all the technical details of the genetics, that human life is greater than the DNA from which it sprang, that human beings retain a moral value which is irreducible and which transcends the sequence of 3 billion base pairs within the human genome.¹²

Margaret Somerville even sees the promise of a "new societal paradigm" due to the irreconcilable clash between the "'pure' science" and "'pure' mystery" views. She defines "pure" science as the view that humans are nothing more than the biologically active products of their genes, whose highest attributes are logical, cognitive, rational functioning. From this perspective, "mystery" and "spirit" are irrelevant. By contrast, those with the "pure" mystery view hold to fundamental religious dogmas and espouse an anti-science, creation theory instead of evolution. The "new" approach described by Somerville is the "science- spirit" view, a sense of the "secular sacred" and an acceptance of a "space for spirit." People with this outlook hold to aspects from the other two, but seek to find a non-competitive structure that accommodates both--they are amazed at the achievements of science, but also are awe-struck by the mysteries that knowledge reveals and by the possibility of a "something beyond."¹³ Somerville believes

an inherent tension between science and "spirit" is necessary to creating a third dimension, that is, a space that can hold us as fully living human beings (and fully human living beings) and allow us to escape the linearity of the other views.¹⁴

She is especially concerned about the way those with one of the "pure" views tend to summarily dismiss people with the other view. Each polarity simply ignores the other. She realizes the anxiety for some, when others discuss the need for a "space for spirit." Still, she wants a structure that permits at least a consideration of spiritual implications, despite the uncertainties of what "spirit" or its implications may be. As for how this may happen, she imagines a new societal world view which would help people live both as individuals and as local and global societies at the peak of our ethical potential in the context of both science and spirit.¹⁵ She believes the inevitable "uncertainties" in the "science-spirit" approach demand a high degree of courage. People must promote active tolerance, she suggests, and learn to live with irresolvable conflict. She finishes with her hope for a time when people depend more on trust and responsibility than on rights. At this time, individualism will still hold sway, but it will be enhanced by a broader sense of human spirit and community for each and all in society.¹⁶

While disputing the need for a new ethic, Darryl Macer's "bioethical maturity" and "universalism" sounds similar to Somerville's "new societal paradigm." He claims technology should not be feared as an uncontrollable opponent and hopes the new biology will catalyze an increase in bioethical maturity. Interestingly, he concludes that biotechnology has the possibility of eventually accentuating our regard for love:

Love has more claims to be the principle ethical ideal than desire coming from autonomy. Bioethics does involve all of life, if we do not love all of life we cannot love other people. We need to seek ways to balance need and desire, and just distribution of the freedom that everyone is allowed. We should not only aim to give the greatest good for the most, nor the greatest freedom for the most, but the greatest love for all.¹⁷

With his concept of "universal bioethics," Macer rekindles the idea of humans as spiritual stewards over nature. His ideal also cuts across all the differences arising from the biological, social and spiritual traits of humanity and embraces all points of view (see Second Part). The path to this "universalism" depends on discovering what he calls a "synthesis of all the traditions, ideals, and aspects of biological, social and spiritual heritage that we have."¹⁸

A Role for the Tension between Polarities

Throughout the first two parts of this essay, I purposely presented biotechnology and bioethics in the context of the conflict surrounding genetic engineering. It is as if everyone looks at the same tree but describes it differently according to where each stands. Clearly, debate cannot bring any of them closer to the truth. I suggest the same holds true for genetic engineering. As everyone defends what is seen from where each stands, all the more will everyone also fail to see what the others see. I believe the extremes in view points that are surfacing now in the face of bioethics and genetic engineering must be looked upon as a beginning foundation for a new and healthier form of moral life. The challenge is whether we make beneficial use of the situation. Those who believe we should move into the bio-age without restraints may be frustrated by any sense of hinderance to their vision. On the other hand, the tension caused by the obstructions can also force people to think more deeply both about motives and about what the technology really means for the future.

The idea that contrary positions are a necessity for evolution is a key theme for Owen Barfield in Evolution of Consciousness: Studies in Polarity. Here, he talks about it in terms of a tension between extremes with the primary polarity being the one between subject and object. He says it correlates closely with the present-day strife between human beings and nature.¹⁹ His resolution is paradoxical to rational thinking, because he aspires to transcend the subject-object duality. He describes it as a

polarity between the subjectivity of the individual mind and the objective world which it perceives. They are not two things, but they are one and the same thing and what you call the objective world is merely one pole of what is a unitary process and what we call subjective experience is the other pole, but they are not really divided from each other.²⁰

It is the image of the unified whole of a circle with its opposing halves. In his words, "Two forces of One Power." He advises against attempting to fuse the opposites, because "the opposition between the two is essential, on the other hand it is an opposition which itself characterizes or forms true unity, true identity."²¹

Charles Davy is another who talks about the value of polarity, referring to it as the soul's "real battle." But, his image in Towards a Third Culture is not the usual one with an angel pulling from above and a devil from below. Rather, it is a tugging between "two fallen angels." One heads a fantasy-like "pseudo-heaven" kingdom where the materialism of earthly life is seen as unnecessary for human existence. By following this one, the human tries to attain heaven-hood and live as an immortal in Eternity. Opposing this illusory path of fantasy is the one who rules a "pseudo-earth" where cleverness and self-sufficiency abound. To follow this one brings people to deny spirituality and existence of The Divine and hardens them in materiality. His picture depicts two contrasting forms of "the temptation." Yet, both are necessary for existence. The first kindles the imagination, while the second stirs the intellect. For Davy, to be human is to live in this battle and seek to redeem the contraries. One of its manifestations is the experience of being both dependent and independent of the sustaining and threatening qualities of nature. The conflict is essential and so is the striving to hold, at the same time, a balance between the two.²²

These days, the two dominant words in Kuhn's The Structure of Scientific Revolutions--paradigm and incommensurable--are brandished about by many to describe more than just Kuhn's characterization of the history of science.²³ However, only a few like Barfield and Davy also express a positive regard for what these days is called "incommensurability between paradigms." I believe their paradoxical resolution--to hold a balance between what appears irresolvable--is sound advice for how to approach the ethical dilemmas surrounding gene technology. As all the different "experts" show by their various views, there is no immediately available, all-encompassing standard of ethics that serves all people in all situations. Despite the contributions by so many educated people, the conflicting dichotomies keep growing in number and intensity--rational-irrational, science- religion, intellect-feeling, head-heart, unconscious-conscious, nature-nurture, unhealthy-healthy, bad gene-good gene, abnormal- normal, society-autonomy, consensus-dissensus, physical- spiritual, unfree-choice-free-choice, unethical-ethical, amoral- moral.

Probably the most obvious of the polarities is the old, still- alive rivalry between science and religion as ways of "knowing"-- science as objective, universal, rational, and based on solid observational evidence which is amoral; religion as subjective, parochial, emotional, and based on moral traditions that disagree. In a broader sense, it is "the material" versus "the spiritual." It shows its head most clearly as the debate about what it is to be human: whether we are one of many products of the physical laws of nature or divine creations with unique soul- spirit qualities that distinguishes us from other living organisms.

Another old debate is the one about nature versus nurture (see First Part). This polarity relates directly to the conflict between the genetic determinists versus advocates of free-will and self-determination. For the former, we do the bidding of the genes and all "illness" is merely a consequence of chemical processes which are not under our conscious control. To the others, the genes are recognized for their partial role in forming our physical qualities, but behaviors and cognitive functions can be transformed by personal choice.

A third example of polarity is the discord between consensus and autonomy. As Daniel Callahan observes, autonomy's recent gain in prominence has created serious deficiences in bioethics. On referring to the consensus-autonomy debate, he says:

[I]t has failed to pursue with sufficient imagination the idea of the common good, or public interest, on the one hand, and that of personal responsibility, or the moral uses of individual choice, on the other. By its tendency to reduce the problem of the common good to justice, and the individual moral life to the gaining of autonomy, it has left a moral void.²⁴

Some of the "moral void" referred to by Callahan might be tempered as bioethicists work to bring consensus back into the decisionmaking model for gene technology. Indeed, consensus has been given a leading role in the ethics section of the HGP's ELSI manual (see Second Part). Yet, too much emphasis on consensus- seeking can fail. For example, when it involves people who lean towards religion and spirituality, it can pull the moral tenets of their traditions into the rational, scientific process of consensus-seeking where the tenets lose their authority. Another tack is to discount them as permissible options for consideration. It is the on-going conflict between what is common and what is unique. As Feyerabend points out, such consensus-building too often replaces the uniqueness of each culture with the insipid mediocrity of a majority group (see Second Part). It means the novel attributes of individuals are ignored in favor of what is common to the crowd. On the other hand, an autonomy based solely on personal wants in disregard of society is egocentric and selfish. It estranges the person from the external, from other people, from the planet, and from the entire universe. But, as discussed below in greater detail, autonomy may also take a form--human beings living as truly free- spirits--which is fully compatible for both society and the individual.

The free-choice issue also raises a set of opposing difficulties for science educators who are trying to teach children to be independent thinkers. On the one hand, science literacy advocates look to education as the way to encourage "informed choices." However, if they are careless with their classroom presentations, teachers may unintentionally push students into certain ways of thinking--the ways approved by the teachers--and effectively turn students away from true "freedom of choice." For instance, rarely are science teachers trained to discuss paradigms which counter the dominant scientific view. Yet, if they merely parrot the opinions of the mainstream, scientific enterprise, how likely will their students develop critical thinking skills about all aspects of their lives, including science itself. Thus, science educators are caught in the middle of a tug between two poles--their personal enthusiasm and attachment to the scientific outlook versus all that possibly could cause the scientific enterprise to collapse.

There is also the polarity between thinking and feeling as modes for bioethical decisionmaking (see Second Part). At one extreme, people like Caplan stress the rational, argumentative, head-thinking approach. Opposing this, Feyerabend is distrustful of the reasoning mind and disowns it completely. Callahan accepts both reasoning and emotion in combination with rational thought, while Maslow looks for a form of intuition from the heart, which speaks to the person as conscience. Pugh also looks to the heart, but resorts to the head as the necessary gateway to the heart. Such an endless onslaught of the for-and-against logic and debate among all the positions can be baffling and overwhelming. It can even lead logically to a stance which is against all logical discourse.

My last example in this summary of contrasting poles is one of the least obvious. It surfaces in the concepts and language about the uses of gene technology. Because it can be so elusive and potentially hurtful, I delve into it with greater detail than the preceding examples. I am speaking of the host of judgmental opinions that discriminate against certain people because of "bad" DNA. It is genetic reductionism-determinism at its worst and is none other than the revitalization of eugenics, except now it is disguised with an attire to make it acceptable. For example, when microbiologist Robert Sinsheimer uses the words "The Prospect of Designed Genetic Change" to title his article on gene technology, he speaks eugenically.²⁵ Likewise, when he refers to how the HGP can help humanity, the ideas ring loudly with the sound of eugenics:

We now glimpse another route--the chance to ease the internal strains and heal the internal flaws directly, to carry on and consciously perfect far beyond our present vision this remarkable product [the human being] of two billion years of evolution.²⁶

With such noble-sounding words, how can anyone risk taking issue with his call to ease strains and heal flaws? However, the problem is in the way he pairs his humanitarian ideal with the concepts of "consciously perfect" and "internal flaws." My immediate questions are threefold. Who will be targetted for gene therapy? Will it be done out of true, personal choice? What will be accepted as the standards for the moral credentials of the "consciousness" doing the perfecting? Afterall, any talk of perfectionism carries the responsibility of telling what "perfect" means. As soon as Sinsheimer writes "perfect," he implies its polar opposite, "imperfect." To discuss this use of language is vital, since it is the only way to expose the myriad of polarities whose concealed existence thrives in human thinking: good genes versus bad genes, normal versus abnormal, healthy versus diseased, and abled versus disabled.

Only by talking about the language and concepts of bio-age eugenics can people eventually recognize the specter for what it is. Clearly, these polarizing concepts exist already and will probably increase in number as the technology gains momentum. Genetic counselors in the medical setting, who are already advising patients about genetic "flaws," are aware of the problems posed by the language of their profession. Hence, they are revising the way they speak. For example, they frown on the use of "perfectability" and have replaced "defect" with "condition."²⁷ But, even with such changes in the making, will the general public really be able to make free choices based on personal interpretations of the words. Or, will people simply accept the concepts offered by the medical professionals and society and "follow the crowd"?

The forcefulness of society's definitions can be overwhelming and have an extraordinarily heavy influence on everyone, especially if they are set in the laws. The reality is that there is no universal agreement about what is "normal" or "abnormal." For instance, in a community of small-stature people with achondroplasia, certain physical characteristics would be the norm. In such a setting, two small-stature parents might even choose to abort a fetus who is "abnormal" because it does not have the small stature of an achondroplasic person. By contrast, most "average-size" people in the larger community would consider the small-stature trait to be "abnormal" and would be more likely to abort "deformed" fetuses with the "imperfect" achondroplasia gene. But, such a superficial view of what it is to be a human misses the deep-most essence of the every individual's worth. Might people possibly be too hasty in resorting to abortion and gene therapy as "quick fixes" without first giving thought to what every individual can offer despite the so-called "disability"? After all, the reality is that every one of us is "disabled" in some way or another.

Certainly, there are those who speak about the inherent value of "abnormalities" for what can be gained in spite of "disability." In the closing paragraphs of Exploding the Gene Myth, Hubbard and Wald give their inspiring reminder about the sober reality of being human: "[a]ll of us are flawed according to someone's standards, and will continue to be, no matter what scientific breakthroughs may come along."²⁸ Then, they introduce Helen Keller as someone who, in the setting of gene therapy, would be eligible for a biotechnological "cure." They wonder:

Who knows, maybe Helen Keller would have led a completely undistinguished life instead of becoming a famous writer and political activist had her immune system not failed her as a child.²⁹

This reveals Hubbard's and Wald's esteem for every human's individuality, regardless of the person's personal condition. They express distress over the expected and probable inequities of genetic discrimination that will accompany gene diagnosis:

To be ill or disabled is part of the human condition, and not the worst thing that can happen to us. Far worse [it is] to harden ourselves and look on people who are ill or have disabilities as statistics or as burdens, [who are] to be prevented at all costs.³⁰

Likewise, in Touched with Fire, Kay Jamison voices a deep regard for the value of "illness" in human individuality. Her expertise is on the relation between manic-depression and the artistic temperament. Jamison tells about the melancholic side of the condition and expresses her sensitivity to the dreadfulness of the depressive phase. However, she also speaks glowingly of the magnificent creations produced by the musicians, artists, and writers during their manic phase. For her, the search for genes that cause manic-depression raises a difficult ethical problem. She believes "these issues become particularly complicated because manic-depressive illness can confer advantages on both the individual and society."³¹ Jamison asks:

Do we--in our rush to diagnose, to heal, and perhaps even to alter their genes--compromise the respect we should feel for their differentness, independence, strength of mind and individuality? Do we diminish artists if we conclude that they are far more likely than most people to suffer from recurrent attacks of mania and depression, experience volatility of temperament, lean toward the melancholic, and end their lives through suicide?³²

Suzuki and Knudtson also counsel tolerance for humanity's genetic flaws, "[a]t least until such time as a genetic abnormality has been indisputably shown to place severe limits on a child's future health, happiness or capacity to learn, it seems most wise to tolerate such imperfection, along with all of the rest."³³ They advocate a heightened moral sensitivity to the possible side effects of genetic engineering, particularly where knowledge of genotypes could be misused. They worry especially about the discriminatory effects on people in nonscientific cultures and minorities.

Rudolf Steiner has an intriguing--and easily misunderstood--alternative for the value of what appears as human misfortune and suffering. In "The True Attitude to Karma," he suggests that pain and suffering relate to the spiritual nature of human destiny and are connected with every individual's most intimate, personal qualitites--the spiritual aspects of human character which must be transmuted in the process of personal evolution. He tells how each person has an inner "wiser being" who is guided by the individual's shortcomings and who seeks out situations that cause the pain. For "every outer and inner suffering removes some imperfection and leads to greater perfection."³⁴ Undoubtedly, this view differs drastically from the typical opinions and reactions to dis-ease. Might we all have a healthier relationship to personal hardship if we could live according to this view, even in the face of the genetic "defects" inherited from our ancestors and which we would otherwise want to "perfect" by genetic engineering?

Clearly, the antagonisms arising from how people label one another according to their DNA sequences could be very problematic. Prejudices for or against certain genes could whip up a terrible form of bigotry and further separate people from one another. The first step against this fate is to give deep and conscious attention to all the dilemmas surrounding genetic engineering. Secondly, the incentive must be found which encourages the necessary, persistent work that is needed to become moral and act morally. But, if conflict serves as the setting to bring us to greater moral action, how are we to access the inspirations that provide the moral motives for such action? It is in trying to answer this question that I now delve into the concept of "moral intuition" as described by Rudolf Steiner.

Moral Evolution

Biologist Richard Dawkins makes a remarkable point in The Selfish Gene, which counters what the scientific materialists say about our potential to rise above personal heredity:

[I]t is a fallacy--incidentally a very common one--to suppose that genetically inherited traits are by definition fixed and unmodifiable. Our genes may instruct us to be selfish, but we are not necessarily compelled to obey them all our lives. It may just be more difficult to learn altruism than it would be if we were genetically programmed to be altruistic.³⁵

Restated in philosophical terms, Dawkins says his account of gene "selfishness" in The Selfish Gene is merely a description of what is, not what ought to be. His distinction is important, for he is saying we do not have to be determined and controlled by our genes. He argues against those who say all behaviors, including altruistic conduct, are DNA- determined and inherited. Although Dawkins remains a materialist and nowhere speaks of anything like an indwelling, human soul- spirit which participates in moral evolution, he points to the possibility for free-willed decisions. Simply put, we are not obliged to obey our genes. By saying this, he indirectly opens a window onto the personal command over one's own moral evolution. This possibility is consistent with the descriptions of human development as set forth by Piaget and Kohlberg.

Jean Piaget and Lawrence Kohlberg are known among psychologists and educators for their research on human development: Piaget for his work in the cognitive realm and Kohlberg for his study of morality. According to Piaget, symbolic thinking associated with language appears during ages of 2 to 7 years, while concrete, logical thought appears during the period between 7 and 11 years. Abstract thinking about hypothetical problems occurs after 11.³⁶ Piaget noticed the differences in childrens' moral thinking in relation to cognition. However, it was for Kohlberg to determine whether people apply logic to ethical dilemmas and how they do it. He was also the first to analyze moral reasoning as a progression of stages. His results- -criticized because he studied boys only--led him to conclude that such development is similar across all cultures.³⁷ Kohlberg outlines three levels and six stages in moral development:

Level I
Preconventional Reasoning--the Ethics of Egocentricity Typical of children to age of about 10 years

Stage 1. Punishment and Obedience: Consequences of act determine whether it is good or bad
Stage 2. Market Exchange: Obeying rules and exchanging favors are judged in terms of what benefits the person

Level II
Conventional Ethics--the Ethics of Others Typical of 10- to 20-year olds

Stage 3. Interpersonal Harmony: Decisions based on what is approved by others
Stage 4. Law and Order: Doing right is to do one's duty

Level III
Postconventional Ethics--the Ethics of Principle Attained by small number of people after age 20

Stage 5. Social Contract: Follow rules and principles since they are for the common good of society
Stage 6. Universal Principles: Ethics determined by a personal conscience guided by principles of justice and equality³⁸

Like Piaget, Kohlberg believes all people pass through all stages in the same order but at different rates. To attain a particular level in moral development, a person must have already realized the previous stage. He says Stage 6 solutions to dilemmas are justified on philosophical and psychological grounds which are independent of faith or religion. He also suggests a Stage 7, the "metaphorical" stage, in which decisions involve contemplative experience of a nondualistic variety and may be expressed in theistic terms (e.g., as a "union with God"). People at Stage 7 act like those at Stage 6, but they do so without recourse to rational thinking. Stage 7 may even supersede the limits of Kohlberg's standard cognitive development model in moral psychology. People at Stage 7 have a mystic union with God, life, or nature and accept their own mortality while finding life meaningful through moral living, by expressing the love for life via love for all human beings. Kohlberg only theorizes a Stage 7 and never addressed it in his research.³⁹

Kohlberg's stages are useful guides for understanding the level of moral reasoning at which a person, whether child or adult, is functioning. Just because the "ethics of egocentricity" of Level I predominates among young children, it does not mean that it occurs only in children. Also, if Kohlberg is correct in saying that moral development must progress through these stages, it raises serious questions about people like Feyerabend who would do away with logical reasoning in their search for ethical behavior. Moreover, the existence of developmental stages would lend support to the worth of educational materials that focus on ethical inquiry with hypothetical dilemmas like those in the HGP's ELSI manual on gene technology.⁴⁰ Since these materials are typically based on a debate model for ethical decisionmaking, they encourage students to use logic and thereby foster a ripening of the higher stages of moral reasoning. Kohlberg's levels could also be useful to researchers and practitioners of genetic engineering, as a basis for personal reflection to determine whether their work is due to the more childish, selfish motives or the more adult-like, principled motives.

Kohlberg's Stage 6 provides a good transition from rational-based moral-thinking to the intuitive-based moral-thinking described by Rudolf Steiner. In Intuitive Thinking as a Spiritual Path: A Philosophy of Freedom, Steiner introduces "ethical individualism," a decisionmaking process which he believes has the highest motive for moral action. It originates purely from intuition and has no preconceived link to previously established moral principles--and yet all such principles unite within it. As Steiner explains:

What is decisive in an intuitively determined action in a concrete instance is the discovery of the corresponding, completely individual intuition. At this level of morality, we can speak of general moral concepts (norms or laws) only to the extent that they result from the generalization of individual impulses.⁴¹

As Steiner points out in The Stages of Higher Knowledge, his use of the term "intuition" has nothing to do with the more or less vague, popular meaning in connection with intellectual thinking. Rather, it refers to a "lofty mode of cognition, full of the most luminous clarity and the most indubitable certainty."⁴²

At the surface, Steiner's ethical individualism seems to be similar to Kohlberg's Stage 7. Both describe a basis for moral action, which transcends preestablished rules and previous experience. However, where they differ is in Steiner's emphasis on a consciousness arising from an evolved form of cognition. With Stage 7, Kohlberg shifts from the cognitive orientation of the earlier stages to a "faith" born out of a sense of despair with life's meaninglessness in the face of death.⁴³ For Steiner, the moral act must be a fully conscious, free act which is motivated by the moral concept associated with the specific situation. No longer is it a question of a moral deed that is done out of should do--rather, it is simply do. Doing is not done according to what another would do in the situation, but according to what the particular individual is to do. To follow another's lead, advice, or rule would make the motive unfree. Nor is it done according to a code of conduct, an inner voice of conscience, a Lord over me, or even a rational debate about whether it is right or wrong. Steiner's rejection of "conscience" is the clue for how he differs from Maslow's description of moral intuition--an unconscious conscience which warns, scorns, and forces (see Second Part). By contrast, Steiner's version of intuition is based on a person's own conscious "moral imagination." In the person's thinking, there arises the specific moral concept that links to the specific percept. Thereby, the individual does the specific moral act that is appropriate for the particular dilemma at hand.⁴⁴

Anyone who wants to know the essence of human willing must distinguish between the path that brings willing up to a certain stage of development and the special form that it assumes when it nears its goal. On the path to this goal, norms play a justifiable role. The goal consists in the realization of ethical aims that are grasped purely intuitively. Humans achieve such aims to the degree that they possess any capacity to lift themselves to the intuitive-conceptual content of the world.⁴⁵

Steiner is quick to counter the advocates of universal, ethical norms, who argue that his form of individualized morality will bring everyone to live their own lives and do as they please-- that every bit of corruption will have the same claim for expression as every intention to serve all humanity. Steiner says this objection arises out of misunderstanding. For a truly intuited act of will, the impulse can only be completely individual. This is the key, since those acts which are criminal and evil do not belong to what is individual in the person. They belong to what is common among all people.

What is individual in me is not my organism, with its drives and feelings, but my own world of ideas that lights up within this organism. My drives, instincts, and passions establish no more in me than that I belong to the general species human being. The fact that something conceptual expresses itself in a special way in those drives, passions, and feelings establishes my individuality. Through my instincts, my drives, I am the kind of person of whom there are twelve to the dozen: I am an individual by means of the particular form of the idea by which, with the dozen, I designate myself as I.⁴⁶

He says evil acts derive from the non-conceptual aspects of the human. Furthermore, they are unfree because they are performed as instinctive reactions under the compulsion of nature. "Humans are free to the extent that they are able to obey themselves at each instant of their lives."⁴⁷ This freedom also has the characteristic of living fully out of love. The basis for a deed, Steiner says, is in the love for the deed: "I do it because I love it." An action is "good" if a person's intuition is steeped in love and responds rightly to the intuitively experienceable world continuum. It is "bad" if this is not the case.⁴⁸

Steiner describes the intuition as like a flash a lightning--an immediate apprehension which is devoid of ethical inquiry and argument. To analyze it with the reasoning and logical criticism of head-thinking merely drives "the flash" away. He calls it thinking of the heart. He also insists that this heart- thinking comes only after preparatory training in reasoning and logical thinking in the head. Sound head-thinking acts as a kind of "conscience" to keep the emotions from leading the traveler astray. It stirs a refined sense of responsibility for truth and untruth.⁴⁹ Thus, like Kohlberg, Steiner emphasizes the significance of cognition for moral development. Yet, to experience ethical individualism, the intellect must eventually be set aside temporarily. In a sense, once logical thinking is mastered, it becomes the vehicle which recognizes--indeed, via logical thinking itself--the need to seek what is still beyond. Anyone who depends solely on rational thinking might object strongly to this as a possible, new way of thinking, because it is not commonly experienced among most people. It lacks validation by consensus.

What also makes heart-thinking so different is how it functions as a bridge between the physical world and the non-physical "spiritual world" where morals exist in a form that can be intuitively grasped as individual concepts. Through moral intuition, we become equally conscious in both realms and, in fact, must be if we are to learn the truth of the world's foundations. Thereby, thinking is redeemed, and our dualistic view is transcended by a monism which embraces the unity of the physical and the spiritual.⁵⁰

Steiner makes the important point that moral deeds done out of ethical individualism do not exclude moral laws. Rather, since it is at a higher level than action dictated by moral laws alone, it naturally includes them. Steiner objects strongly to Kant's emphasis on duty in the categorical imperative: that our acts should fulfil our duty to serve the welfare of all humanity. For Steiner, as long as duty is a general moral principle, it lacks freedom. Since duty demands that we obey an outer norm, it does not recognize individuality.⁵¹

Critics of ethical individualism wonder how people can possibly live together socially. If everyone is fully individualized, they suggest, anarchy would prevail. Steiner says this is not so. He attributes this objection to a misguided moralism which claims that unity only arises out of an established code of ethics. But, such a view gives no credence to the unity of the world of ideas experienced through intuition. At fault is the belief that each person's ideas belong to each person alone. But, at the level of intuition, everyone lives in the same world of ideas:

If we all really draw from the Idea, and follow no external (physical or spiritual) impulses, then we cannot but meet in the same striving, the same intentions. An ethical misunderstanding, a clash, is impossible among ethically free human beings. Only someone who is ethically unfree, who obeys natural drives or the conventional demands of duty, will thrust aside someone else who does not follow the same instincts and the same demands. To live in love of action, and to let live in understanding of the other's will, is the fundamental maxim of free human beings. They know no other should than the one with which their willing is intuitively in harmony. Their capacity for ideas tells them how they are to will in any given case.⁵²

To those who say this concept of the human is a delusion and of no practical significance, Steiner is quick to agree that it is an ideal--no doubt about it. Yet, he also is not willing to accept the present level of human moral development as its final expression. To him, ideals have extraordinary value: "Every idea that does not become an ideal for you kills a force in your soul, but every idea that becomes an ideal for you creates forces of life within you."⁵³ For those who want to work towards the ideal, he offers concrete instructions.⁵⁴ He knows there are only a few free spirits, who strive to lift themselves from the realm of the unfree and achieve freedom to the extent they find and obey only themselves. For Steiner, these few are the ones to whom the adage "Know thyself" applies in the present time. Indeed, he admits there may not be anyone in the present age, who is really free all of the time. This does not dissuade him from his confidence in the wiser being within, in whom the free human will eventually be able to manifest. After all, it will take time. We are still in the midst of an unfolding--in the evolutionary process of moral-becoming.

Some Practical Indications

My original motive for this paper arose from an uneasiness about the moral readiness of human beings to begin fixing the ills of the world by rebuilding the genes. I was also frustrated by the factionalism among scientists, bioethicists, and philosophers who are debating about how to respond to the effects of this rebuilding. With every new thought about the uses and effects of biotechnology, the cloud of issues swells further with an ever greater intricacy in the puzzling interweavings of confusion. Any single answer to how to proceed with genetic engineering--or whether we should proceed at all--seems more elusive than ever.

Though my uneasiness persists, I also do not condone a complete halt to all genetic engineering. A categorical ruling of this sort would be fanatical and short-sighted. For me, it is out of the question--although the unsettling prospects of germ-line therapy sometimes bring me close to endorsing a total moratorium. To act according to a predetermined principle of "No to all biotechnology!" will not be flexible enough to deal freely with all circumstances. When opinions are this hardened, what is thought to be a compassionate caring for others may all too often turn into a callous disregard for a legitimate, moral need. Such rigidity also sends a scornful message to the medical practitioners, biotechnologists, and others who are genuinely trying to do moral deeds as they actually do the work.

To move ahead into the bio-age carries an immense moral obligation, both for the individuals immediately involved with the technology's uses and for all humanity. More and more, people could recognize this responsibility and then live with it. I believe we must never slacken from probing deeper into both the ethics and morality of how gene manipulation will eventually affect all life. Especially for the present, this means awakening further to our motives and questioning them. How can we be sure the driving force for our actions has a moral basis and is not just due to intellectual curiosity, commercial gain, or self-aggrandizement? As with the on-going changes in the Hippocratic Oath, how can we be sure our sense of ethics and morality is truly evolving and not just a reflection of the ethos of the time?⁵⁵ Inevitably, the questioning leads to the quality of our moral development--our moral evolution.

I believe the lofty ideal of Steiner's "ethical individualism" is a fitting solution to the moral dilemmas of the bio-age and needs to be explored more fully. If we could experience the ideal, everyone's actions would be moral. Yet, since it is also a long- term goal which can be achieved only after great effort, I believe there are several practical steps which can be taken now to encourage more thinking about the uses and consequences of the technology. The two which I now address relate specifically to the beginnings of what might be done in the fields of education and medicine.

Indications for Education. Without doubt, science educators could devote more time to the study of values, bioethics, and morality. The present trend in science literacy is a move away from positivism with its "learn the facts and be objective" approach, but old habits still drive much of the day's approach to science teaching. Indeed, educators could rethink the entire curriculum and keep discovering novel ways to integrate the sciences and the humanities. No longer can decisionmaking rely on the science alone. Any bias that favors science can be tempered. Despite my objection to its emphasis on debate for ethical decisionmaking (see First and Second Parts), the HGP's manual on ethics offers a distinct improvement over other texts that present only the molecular biology. If taught with strict regard to the quality of thinking, the exercises in the manual could help students develop their reasoning skills and stimulate growth in moral development. On the other hand, I believe less emphasis can be placed on using logical argument to defend a position with the aim of convincing classmates. The debate approach is troublesome, if it only teaches students to be more clever rather than moral.

One alternative to the debate model for ethical inquiry is to teach quality reasoning in the context of a dialogue in which participants say less and are more attentive to what others say and how they think. The Quaker approach to decisionmaking, whereby people work to transcend argumentative debate, is one possible format for this kind of dialogue. In Beyond Majority Rule, Sheeran explains how the Quakers use a group process that seeks unity rather than uniformity.⁵⁶ Such unity does not necessarily mean complete agreement among all present. In fact, the group's final decision may bear no resemblance to any single opinion of the group's individual members. Every effort is made to avoid any sense of forcing a certain point of view. Moreover, the quality of the outcome is considered all the more effective when the participants' views are the most diverse. The group is envisioned as a single being with its individual parts--much like a harmonious chord with its many distinct notes. The approach also has limitations. Everyone must agree to its value, and it is workable only when the group is small.

When using materials like the HGP's ELSI manual, teachers could also give more attention to the nature and process of science and biotechnology. This means being willing to discuss paradigms that counter the current one of materialistic science. In fact, many science teachers do indoctrinate--to use the term put forward by the AAAS in Science for All Americans.⁵⁷ Because of its strong support for gene technology and the HGP, the HGP's ELSI manual is a prime example of bias. Nowhere do the authors offer exercises in which students question whether the HGP should be funded in the first place. The inevitability of genetic engineering is assumed. Unless teachers point out, question, and analyze the authors' approach to both the science and bioethics, will students think about the opinions and paradigm out of which the manual itself was written? As an alternative, science teachers and their colleagues in political science and history can help students analyze the logic upon which the manual is based. They could also work together to present a unit on the history and sociology of eugenics and its relation to the "new eugenics" of biotechnology. Though a bit out-dated, the book Science and Society: Knowing, Teaching, Learning offers excellent examples for creating cross-disciplinary studies surrounding the scientific paradigm and the world as described by scientists.

Another suggestion for educators at all upper levels is to give greater regard to the what it is to be human. Certainly, science teachers will continue to address this topic in the context of the physical organism as they do already in classes on biochemistry, genetics, physiology, embryology, and behavior. But, more can also be done to consider the origins of ideals, values, and morals--whether from genes, culture, a Higher Being, or possibly all three. Admittedly, the topic is controversial for the science classroom. Yet, it can be done with respect to all views. By going beyond the standard, factual content of the science curriculum, teachers would actually be following the AAAS's recommended guidelines for science literacy as a blend of content from science and the humanities.⁵⁸ Such an approach would help students to know themselves better, to "Know thyself"--not as an egotistical knowing, but a personal knowledge about humans both as individuals and as members of the social assembly of all humans.

A cross-disciplinary approach would also temper the tendency to lead students into the mechanistic view of DNA-thinking. It is rare that even a possible role for spirituality is addressed in the gene debate. I believe the dialogue about biotechnology can be enhanced by asking whether the human has a spiritual organization which needs to be taken into account. It could be done as an exercise in accordance with the scientific ideal of openness to all falsifiable possibilities. Discussion could center on questions related to human spirituality and the role of free-choice in moral action:

How might genetic "disease" and "abnormality" have a role in the evolution of humans as beings endowed with bodies and souls?

What are the unique social, economic, scientific and moral tasks for society in the light of proposed uses of gene manipulation?

How might the "DNA-thinking" of the molecular geneticists influence our conception of a human spirit and its role in determining human nature and human evolution?

One way to bring about a blend of science and the humanities in the curriculum could be through a study of the three virtues: Truth, Beauty, and Goodness.⁵⁹ As a start, each member of the triad could be studied individually in the context of what it is to be a human being. Truth could be linked to the logic and thinking of science; Beauty would be connected to the aesthetics and feeling of art; and Goodness could be related to the morals and willing of religion. Once discussed in the context of how they manifest in the individual, the three concepts then provide the necessary foundation for moving to the broader perspective of how they manifest as Liberty, Justice. and Equality. By a thorough consideration of all six concepts, students could learn more about the relationships between themselves and the world--how the self relates to all else and vice versa--the Microcosm as a reflection of the Macrocosm and vice versa. The teacher's final task would be to make these relevant to the issues surrounding biotechnology, as they relate to both the individual and society.

Indications for Medicine. A second topic that deserves practical consideration is the role of medicine and biotechnology in the bio-age. The basic question is: How will people respond to those who are labeled "genetically ill"? What if someone is diagnosed to have a "gene defect" and wants to be "cured"? Should the medical professionals treat all such cases regardless of the associated circumstances? Or, are we to say no to all such therapy, just because it goes against our principles? Earlier, I quoted Hubbard and Wald for their comment about Helen Keller's distinguished life and what it might have been had she not been "disabled." But, what if she did want a "cure," even though it might have diminished her fame as a writer and political activist?⁶⁰ Should this have been denied? The same could be asked about all the great artists "afflicted" with manic-depression as was also described earlier. How far are we willing to go to refuse anyone a relief from suffering? Moreover, might some disorders be so severe or disabling--Lesch-Nyhan Syndrome is often cited as an example-- that they should be genetically fixed, even in the germ-line, without asking questions? On the other hand, might people also be too quick to abort--or, when the techniques are available, genetically fix--every child with Down's Syndrome? It is possible to imagine a time when even the most insignificant "genetic flaw" will not be tolerated. But, what if there is also something to be gained by the interactions between a person with Down's Syndrome and this person's family, friends, and society? What if there is something to be gained by how we all respond to even the most insignificant "genetic flaws"?

This line of questioning is also relevant to what is already being done by medical professionals. In this respect, gene therapy on somatic cells may be no different than prescribing medication or performing surgery, and biotechnology-based methods would seem to be a matter of "medicine as usual." There would be no need for a new vision of ethics and morals. And, if so, perhaps the questions can be asked in the context of all medical treatment. I will return to this issue later, because I first want to address the related topic of genetic discrimination.

What are likely to be distinctly bio-age issues are: discrimination against people who are categorized as "genetically abnormal" (see Second Part), and the consequences of germ- line therapy. Of course, people will most likely also favor certain traits which are considered advantageous. As gene therapy becomes more routine, people may seek treatments to make them "normal" or "better than normal." The kinds of hypothetical situations seem endless and range from changes in appearance to changes in behavior and ability to think. The worrisome possibility is that genetic determinism will become popular and go unquestioned. A bio-age dominated by materialistic DNA- thinking would be certain to impede efforts for self-healing and preventative medicine. For example, if depression were found to be "caused" by a gene, people with the "defect" might not be willing to motivate the inner will-strength to counter the mood swings without resorting to external treatment. Admittedly, many people already depend on drugs to relieve depression. Nevertheless, the thought that genes might have a commanding and overriding effect on human behavior will all the more turn people away from the possibility of rising above even the most insignificant suffering. To give in to the idea that we are merely a mix of biochemicals whose orchestrated activities are governed by heredity is to relinquish personal freedom. We would lose all that could benefit our personal evolution by conscious encounters with the adversities of "genetic abnormalities."

To speak in this way about the possible value of suffering can be very easily misunderstood. I do not condone any insistence that this attitude be forced on others. In no way do I mean we should refuse requests for relief from suffering. To decline such pleas would take away the freedom of these people as they cry out for help. To ignore them would be totally hard- hearted. But, I wonder if there is still an alternative which is not spoken of very often? Admittedly, the immediate response to a person's suffering must be a readiness to help, for the act of caring about others serves to enliven and further refine our own personal expressions of love. Yet, I suggest we can also be aware of the possible risk that by helping we might also be interfering with the hidden, cause-and-effect connections between the person's suffering and what the person could learn from it. As long as moral intuition remains an ideal for the future, we can at least become more conscious now of the possibility that we are tinkering with a greater unknown. In the larger picture, our efforts to heal--and this includes the healing of our own pains and sufferings--may actually aggravate personal evolution in an unexpected way by taking away the setting in which moral growth is possible. Granted, all medical intervention, including gene therapy, carries this risk.

My answer to this most difficult dilemma is that we offer the asked-for treatment, but also discuss other ways in which the patients could learn to respond to their distress and pain. For example, if someone requests medication for depression, give it. But, we can also offer counseling that explores other non-drug techniques for transforming the mood into a more productive one. As mentioned earlier in the section on polarities, people could tackle their dis-eases more from the challenge of experiencing what is to be learned from the conflict--what will never be discovered if it is pushed aside by the quick relief of a medicinal or a "repaired" gene. To a very great extent, how this counseling is approached has to do with the question of how a society looks upon suffering. Thus, such conversations could lead inevitably to a deeper, conscious examination of the basic opinions out of which people live as individuals and as members of their particular social group. So, even though patients receive medication, they might gain new insights about what it means for them to be human beings. In Blessed by Illness, Mees delves more deeply into the foundations for an attitude which is more accepting of sickness for its positive role in human development.⁶¹

In conclusion, I turn to the genetic engineering of the germ-line cells--the eggs and sperm. This form of gene therapy could have the most far-reaching and insidious impact on human and planetary evolution, since the altered DNA will be passed to all individuals in the line of descent. This immediately raises several questions that relate to what has just been said. Might there be some detrimental effect if certain "sicknesses" were removed from the field of human experience? If most "abnormal," "disabled," and "diseased" conditions were withdrawn from human beings, what would serve as the adversity which could benefit people through personal tests and be the incentive for us to act more consciously on our own personal evolution? If we "perfect" everyone's DNA for all generations, what whole new set of dilemmas might there be for us to reckon with? How might changes in the germ-line take away from the freedom of choice of all the unborn humans in the future, from whom we would remove all experience of dis-ease without asking their permission. Might the act of helping to relieve their suffering be something other than a moral deed?

We have much to heart-think about.

***

I take very seriously the quotes by Goethe at the beginnings of the several parts in this paper. He consistently gives sound, practical advice which can brighten what is otherwise a murky terrain.

At the beginning of the First Part, he reminds us of what we have within reach and what is beyond--the contrast between the known and the unknown. I hear him to mean that we can admit to the uncertainties of "knowing it all" and find a newfound humility which can serve to guide us to new ways of living in how we perceive, feel, and act. Indeed, I wonder what new windows might swing open if we were to heed this advice and ease our fixation on Scientia. Then, might we open our eyes upon some other being?

In the second quote, Goethe cautions against telling too much and defending what should not be a matter of debate--that which is imperishable should not be driven into the ground. The image brings me to wonder if, in the present debate about the ethics of biotechnology, too much is being debated. With so many people tossing the words "ethics" and "morality" about, might the essence of these valued concepts vanish into irretrievable meaninglessness? Or, can the for-and-against arguments of ethical inquiry be replaced by a dialogue guided by mutual interest and respect, in which ethics and morality may once again be cherished as the noble ideals carved into the threshold to the spiritual?

The Third Part begins with Goethe's deep sense of hope in the face of adversity. Though positive productivity is always the more desirable, he says, even disaster can give birth to good fortune. In the context of biotechnology and the bio-age, I take him to mean that errors are inescapable--as if they are essential threads in the fabric of humanhood. We can live in a day-dream spell and ignore them, or we can become aware of them and strive to discover more about the rights and wrongs of what we do. The challenge will be to find the realm where we can have moral imaginations that motivate our action.

Finally, I make a full circle and return to the two goddesses in the Prologue. At first glance, the image of Natura and Scientia in the process of changing the reign may seem irrelevant to the theme of this paper. If my focus were actually only on the uses and effects of biotechnology alone, this would be true. But, this is not the case. My deepest aim for the paper is revealed by the words "conscious" and "evolution." I believe what we are beginning to experience with biotechnology and its associated bioethical dilemmas is a momentous stage in our process of unfolding as conscious beings. Though what happened between Natura and Scientia was only one among many similarly momentous events in the course of the past, they symbolize the ever- recurring happenings in the process of becoming. Becoming moral will involve many, many such changes of the reign.

I believe our isolation from Natura is essential if we are to become independent, conscious beings. Indeed, this isolation is what the scene depicts. Our newfound relation to Natura is different than that of our ancestors, and Scientia has been instrumental in making it so. Scientific thinking-- including the present-day DNA-thinking of molecular biology and biotechnology--has had an enormous effect on who we have become and are becoming. To the extent that Scientia and her offspring "Biotechnologia" teach us to add our own intentions to nature, we gain independence from the laws of nature. Now, we ourselves decide where we wish to tread. But, the way is treacherous! While one fork would plummet us into complete arrogance and world-annihilation, the other would raise us into complete illusion and self-annihilation. The answer is to find the path down the middle way, both in how we use biotechnology and in how we live within all that is our reality. Certainly, the dangers are immense, but so is the gain if we can evolve accordingly.

Picture the process as a rose bud, swelling, yet to open fully to show its majesty. The eventual blooming of its still-hidden beauty-within can only take place if we as gardeners provide sustenance. But, how do we nourish it? Through our labor to "Know thyself." More specifically, through our conscious, on- going struggle to transform as individuals and as a planetary society. Thereby, we may finally come to think with universal ideals rather than selfish ideas, feel with humanitarian caring rather than personal cravings, and act out of moral doing rather than instinctive reacting.

When the rose finally reveals its full glory, it will be because we will have found our own moral place in the garden of existence. In the meantime, let each of us in the bio-age keep tending the soil to remake ourself into the kind of free being whose deeds are moral and loving.

Return to Contents
Back to Ifgene home page