Too cynical

You know this quote from Niemöller ?

First they came for the communists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a communist;
Then they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a socialist;
Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a trade unionist;
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—because I was not a Jew;
Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak out for me.

Of course. Every high school teaches it. It's suppose to be a call to action, asking us to speak out and defend our fellow human beings. But why, according to this poem, why should I care about the communists and the unionists and the Jews? Because when they come for me, when it's my own butt on the line, I want the communists and the socialists and the Jews to save me. Not exactly altruistic.

My interpretation sounds terribly cynical and selfish (as I like to call it "rational self-interest"). Why do I care about the research for Parkinson's or blindness or aging? Is it because I want to reduce the suffering of other people, or because these bad things can one day happen to me?

Morality of genetic enhancement: How will it change relationships?

With nature: Sandel's main objection revolves around humility and what he calls "the gifted aspect of life". If we can't accept who we are and what we are given, if seek to control our own nature, then we lose appreciation of who we are. He bases this argument on the ancient concept of hubris: we shouldn't play god. I will give the standard transhumanist response: people don't build skyscrapers and bridges and dams out of humility. We didn't take flight and land on the Moon out of humility. We didn't split atoms and peer into the infinity of space out of humility. We did those and other things because we wish to better ourselves, and because we can. That's who we are. To ignore this restless impulse would be to deny our very nature. Through out human history, we've been striving to increase our dominion over the world around us. It is only logical to extend that will inward, toward our own bodies and minds.

With our bodies: How do you see yourself? Is there a sacred boundary around our own bodies and our minds, one that makes them off-limits to our willful control? The boundary is becoming more and more fuzzy: most people accept vaccinations and nutritional supplements, contact lenses and pacemakers. We drink coffee and alcohol and take other mind-altering substances. We read and learn and expand our minds. While these modifications are not as permanent as genetic enhancements, they do cross over any bodily boundary.

With our children: "We do not choose our children." Sandel sees having children as an unbidden, surprising, humbling experience. Some parents choose not to learn the sex of the child before birth, because knowing would ruin that experience. Children are gifts (he shied away from using the religious term "blessing"). A parent's love should not depend on the attributes of the child. But it is because of that parental love, that some parents wish to give the best to their child. The proper analogy is not designing specific traits for an offspring like one would order a Whopper at Burger King (no mayo, no tomatoes, extra lettuce), but of three wise men bringing gifts to a new-born child.

With our parents: Will genetic enhancement burden the parents and the children with too much responsibility for their choices? A short child today can only wish that he were taller, but in the future, he might grow to resent his parents for not making him taller, or better looking, or fitting whatever fad the culture dictates. A child that's engineered to be perfect might feel inadequate if she does not succeed. We are not wholly responsible for the way we are, Sandel says, and that relieves us of some pressure. To me, that's a child-like attitude. We as adults take responsibility for the choices we make, for what we learn or fail to learn, for how we behave. People today already deal with the choices that parents made for them, like circumcision, home-schooling, and religious practice. We can blame personal problems on how we were born, or we can learn to overcome them.

In the end, these considerations should be done on a personal level. Each of us learn and grow and figure out our own identities. The government should not make policies based on these objections.

Next post will deal with how enhancement will change society as a whole.

Morality of genetic enhancement (part 1)

"What's the right thing to do?" That's the question Professor Sandel used to open his Justice lectures at Harvard. He served on President Bush's bioethics committee back in 2002 and provided a liberal voice for the ethics of human genetic research and policy, liberal compared to the rest of the Bush-appointed panel. Recently, he gave a lecture for BBC about his moral objections to genetic enhancement of children. I'll summarize his points and inject some of my own thoughts, along with ideas gleamed from last Friday's Seattle H+ meeting.

Before I can start, I need to address two important distinctions. Genetic enhancement is not eugenics. Eugenics seeks to improve the human population by selective breeding, either through incentives or limitations on reproduction. Not only is it associated with racism and tainted by the Nazi ideas of racial purity, but it also infringes on the basic human right of reproduction:

Reproductive rights rest on the recognition of the basic right of all couples and individuals to decide freely and responsibly the number, spacing and timing of their children - World Health Organization

Sterilizing or restricting reproduction of a racial group is comparable to genocide. But, the non-coercive part of eugenics tends to slip under our moral radar: many religions encourage practitioners to marry inside the group, and to have more children. Countries like Singapore paid certain classes of citizens to have more children, and paid others to be sterilized. These practices fall into the vast gray area between right and wrong.

Genetic enhancement provides couples with the opportunity to choose and select specific traits for their unborn children, or modify the genes in a way that's impossible by nature. Unlike eugenics, it favors quality over quantity. It is not coercive, and it does not inherently discriminate against any group. At first sight, this does not violate any human rights. To justify any limitation, Sandel and other bio-conservatives must weigh any harms of genetic enhancement against what seems to be a reproductive right (though not mentioned yet by the WHO) for parents to decide what's best for their own children. The burden of proof falls on the conservatives.

Enhancement is not therapy. This is a contentious issue, because there exists a wide middle-ground where cases can be interpreted different ways in different contexts. Screening out Down syndrome and muscular dystrophy falls into preventative therapy, but engineering the perfect muscles for a future Olympic swimmer is clearly enhancement. More ambiguously, a treatment for Alzheimer's disease or for ADHD may also enhance memory and learning for regular people. The NSF's report on ethics defines enhancement as rising above the "species-normal" range - but even that can lead to fuzzy scenarios. At the end, the distinction relies on our intution.

Data's struggle

He is wondering: "Why is she holding my arm?"

Until recently, I didn't understand why Data wanted to be more human. His human-like appearance only magnifies the differences: he takes words literally; humor eludes him; he is deprived of pain, pleasure, and emotions; he does not understand human behavior. When put in such negative terms, these qualities make him seem defective and incomplete. It's as if his creator didn't have time to finish the job. Maybe Data feels insecure about these inadequacies. But he can't feel insecure; that's a human emotion!

Data tries to remedy his condition by putting himself in social situations, usually with awkward results. In the episode "In Theory", he engages in a romantic relationship with crewmemeber Jenna, but never feeling any real connection with her. "In regards to romantic relationships, there is no real me," he admits, only a compilation of different cultural sources.

Why does he even try? He goes around to various colleagues for relationship advice. He devotes many processing cycles to write himself a romantic subroutine (which he promptly deletes after Jenna breaks up with him). In the bigger scheme, he struggles to be more human. But there are many other fictional androids who are perfectly comfortable being who they are: the replicants in Blade Runner, the cyborgs in Terminator, the robots in Asimov's stories. Why can't Data accept who he is, and consider his emotionless rationality to be a personality quirk rather than a deficiency?

Data's real struggle, I realized, isn't to become more human; he aspires to become more than he is. The goal is merely a product of the culture he lives in. He wants to exceed the limitations that he was created with. Ironically, that restless longing makes him more human than any emotion can.

When we look at our own lives, and ask what motivates us, maybe the destinations don't matter as much as the journey itself.

A healthy dose of doubt

I haven't updated in a while; I think I needed a break from the ever-quickening stream of information about singularity and transhumanism. Too much immersion can lead to a false sense of certainty, of inevitability, and I don't want hold any delusions. Been thinking about philosophy of knowledge lately:

"Philosophy, though unable to tell us with certainty what is the true answer to the doubts it raises, is able to suggest many possibilities which enlarge our thoughts and free them from the tyranny of custom. Thus, while diminishing our feeling of certainty as to what things are, it greatly increases our knowledge as to what they may be; it removes the somewhat arrogant dogmatism of those who have never traveled into the region of liberating doubt, and it keeps alive our sense of wonder by showing familiar things in an unfamiliar aspect."  -Bertrand Russell

Someone on Reddit recently asked for arguments against the singularity. I think apathy, laziness, conservatism, and the lack of imagination can hold back human potential better than any technological limitation. Many obstacles originate from well-meaning suggestions: "be careful experimenting with things you don't understand", "let's solve the current problems first, like poverty, famine, and war", "the life we have is good enough; let's keep it that way". While these are all good ideas, they should not be twisted to hinder progress.

More about conservatism this weekend.