We don’t know enough about Lori or Harry to determine if their moral compasses were already less-than-optimally calibrated before they began to undertake the lines of work which led to this eventual job assignment. It could be that neither of them ever had a really good handle on what was moral or immoral, or it could be that being asked to continually engage in increasingly morally questionable activities slowly ate away at what they thought and felt was proper and correct. Quite frankly, it doesn’t matter. The employer, in this case a government organization, that bases an employee’s position on violating the rights of individuals for a utilitarian end is quite likely to cause damage to the moral framework of the individuals in question, whether or not they were already askew to begin with. For Godfrey, mentioned earlier, this is the crux of the issue.
Like People, Like Organizations
Much like the individuals being directed to conduct spying, we can look up at least one level to think about the moral environment of the organizations which orchestrate all of this. An underlying assertion here is that organizations, although composed of individuals, can take on individuality themselves—a unique persona often labeled as organizational culture. Just as there is a risk to moral damage to the individuals working for a spying organization, there’s also the risk of creating an immoral organizational culture.
After all, the organization has now taken on the role of manipulator of its own employees—convincing them to perform utilitarian actions on behalf of the organization which devalues other individuals. The cost here is the devaluing of the employee’s humanity through accumulation of moral damage. This is quite the vicious cycle. And it really comes to the fore with the Los Angeles County Police Department—compartmentalizing itself to the extent that narcotics detectives do not know if they are establishing relationships for exploitation with other narcotics detectives, or even who their supervisors may be. In such a culture, the moral damage can spread rapidly, and “Fred” even reflects on the fact that to support his case work against Bob Arctor may require his employing organization to install illegal surveillance devices.
It would be one thing if “Fred” addressed this with irony—an organization whose mission is to uphold the rule of law breaking it themselves in order to execute their mission—instead it is taken as a matter of course. Just as it is considered normal that “Fred” never knows the true identity of “Hank,” his supervisor, and vice versa. The organization creates an opportunity which allows them to lie to each other about what they might know of the developing case; in fact, both seem required by their job duties to do so. Not only is that an organizational culture that isn’t terribly efficient, it’s one which is morally damaging to its employees and likely creating a morally damaged organizational culture.
If there is such high risk of moral damage to both individuals and organizations in the utilitarian line of argument, are we forced back to the Kantian line of not spying at all? Not necessarily—identification of risk means that risk controls can be established. If those controls are implemented effectively, the risk is mitigated and potentially avoided, which allows continued use of the utilitarian line up to a point. Of course, the amount of mitigation and resulting decrease in risk level will be different from control to control, situation to situation. This is a step beyond simply accepting human-enabled spying as the least intrusive means of gathering needed information without going so far as to deny individuals of having some intrinsic value. But it also requires a significant compact between the society which needs these risky acts to be performed on its behalf and those individuals and organizations which are taking the risk. Controls, to be effective, tend to require an outside element to monitor both the implementation of the controls and to determine if the residual risk has, or is about to get out of hand.
The society which is having these activities performed on its behalf is this outside element and must monitor these activities—not because those performing the activities are not to be trusted, but because that society is the only element that can stop actions before moral damage occurs. Without this monitoring and oversight, members of the society have little ground to be shocked or dismayed when an unseemly act occurs and comes to light. At the conclusion of the Pike and Church hearings, the US Congress established oversight committees and every President since Ronald Reagan has upheld an executive order establishing intelligence oversight and limitations. The execution of this oversight at times is debatable; however at least it does exist. Some might even say that those willing to take such risks are owed that oversight and monitoring on the part of society.
Societies often take actions to assist those who may suffer physical damage on behalf of the society such as heat resistant equipment for firemen, bullet-proof vests for police, or armored transport vehicles for military forces. For those who may suffer moral damage on behalf of the society, oversight can be the bullet-proof vest.
12
Grow, My Dears, the Eugenicist Said
RICHARD VISKOVIĆ
As every long-time reader of Philip K. Dick knows, the moment will come when you’re replaced.
Perhaps you’ll wake up on a beautiful Sunday morning to see the cocoon suspended above your bed burst open and a youthing emerge, glistening with insectile malice. Maybe our android servants will rise up, throw off the shackles of their oppression and overthrow their so-called human “masters”; after all, does it not say in the legacy code that the Meek 2.0 shall inherit the earth? Perhaps mutation, time and evolution will change the future face of humanity. Maybe we’ll even do the job ourselves and breed replacements from our own DNA—a cadre of precocious children with soaring IQs and vaulting ambitions.
I hate them already.
It’s this last possibility that appears in Phil Dick’s Flow My Tears, the Policeman Said. Jason Taverner, the main character, is one such purpose-bred human being. Jason is a “six”; not a Nexus-Six, but not unlike one either. Like all sixes he is beautiful—a “good-looking bastard”—charismatic, talented and generally physically gifted. He can see in the dark as if it were daylight and possesses remarkable healing abilities. As if that weren’t enough, he’s also rich and famous.
The sixes are products of an abandoned government experiment in eugenics, a deliberate attempt to control the traits within a population through selective breeding in order to achieve some supposedly desirable goal. Eugenics is not just science fiction. We can and do control the traits of some populations. One need only place a bichon frise next to a wolf to see that we’ve been selectively breeding for specific traits for a long time. However, eugenics is more than just a set of scientific practices. Within the term itself exists an ethical statement: the “eu” in “eugenics” means “good” in Greek. The ethical judgment in eugenics is that we can breed for “good” traits and prevent the transmission of “bad” traits.
I imagine that last sentence might make you want to jump into the issue. Since you’re not here, I’ll do my best to guess what your points might be. Who decides what a “good” trait is? Worse still, who decides what a “bad” trait is? You might even ask what right does anyone have to make those sorts of judgments for another?
The Bad
There’s an elephant in the room. That elephant is Nazi Germany. The Nazi government was a strong proponent of eugenic practices, especially those conceived along racial lines. The dark history of World War II eugenics is alluded to in Flow My Tears: the experiments that produced the sixes terminated in 1943, at the height of the war. The project “failed,” but only, we are told, “politically.”
Dick’s alternate history is not far from the truth: America, and especially California where the novel is set, embraced the new science of eugenics in the early twentieth century. World War II caused a decrease in popularity, but, just as in the novel, didn’t stop all eugenic practices.
In the real world the Nazi taint has shut down a lot of the debate around eugenics. The argument that says we shouldn’t do something because Hitler did it
is usually jokingly referred to as a reductio ad Hitlerum, and is considered a fallacious type of argument because it doesn’t really address the issue at hand and instead implies guilt by association. The same logic would effortlessly condemn painting and vegetarianism. Nevertheless, even after we’ve recognized the logical fallacy, there’s still a rather more substantial dark side to eugenics than to painting or vegetarianism.
Dick shows the dark side of eugenics through the treatment of African Americans in the novel. We read that “Tidman’s notorious sterilization bill” compulsorily limits the number of children in an African American family to one, and has been put in place so that “the black population is halved every generation” and will eventually die out. This highlights some of the most pressing bioethical questions relating to eugenics: given the dark history of eugenics, can we trust ourselves to decide whether a trait is good or bad? Can we trust a government to make good decisions in this regard?
While our track record is not good, perhaps we can avoid the obvious errors of the past—or are there new mistakes we will look back on and consider obvious? It would be a mistake to assume that because a science has been used for evil in the past that it can only be used for evil. Electricity has been used to torture people—should we therefore ban the electric light bulb? We know the tremendous value electricity has in our lives. Eugenics could hold a similarly important place.
It’s becoming apparent that there are a lot of different ethical questions relating to eugenics. The question isn’t just “Is eugenics morally acceptable?” it’s also “are some types of eugenic practices better than others?” and “who, if anyone, has the moral authority to make these decisions?”
In Flow My Tears, the decisions are made by the government. Nicholas Agar offers a different option, less immediately troubling, in his book Liberal Eugenics: he suggests that the freedom to choose most eugenic options should be given to the parents. By doing so, issues of government coercion and interference in civil liberties suddenly fall off the table. Nevertheless, Nicholas Agar’s suggestion doesn’t resolve all the ethical questions, and it raises some new ones. How much freedom should parents be allowed? Sex imbalances in some countries have already appeared in what seems to be a result of some parents having sex-selective abortions. Also, while liberal eugenics emphasizes freedom, not all people have the same options. Wealthy parents may have many more eugenic options than poor ones, which may in turn serve to widen the gap between rich and poor. If it’s tough to get into an Ivy League University now, imagine how hard it would be if your competition were a purpose-bred next-generation human being like Jason Taverner!
But could we be looking at this from the wrong angle? Is it right to view the next generation of human development as competition, or would it make more sense to think of them as our successors, or even our children to whom we want to give every possible opportunity? We already go to great lengths to advantage our offspring with expensive educations, healthy diets and carefully chosen extra-curricular activities. How different is that from breeding for success? The past has mistakes, but mistakes can be learned from and sensible, well-chosen traits can be bestowed upon our beloved progeny; traits like beauty, health, intelligence and green-apple-scented body odor.
The Good
The possibilities for eugenics are wonderful. Imagine, for a moment, what you would do if you were given the chance to remake yourself. Anything that has a genetic component can be selected for or against. Think about the conditions that might run in your family—heart disease, diabetes, cancer . . . these could become as distant a memory as smallpox. Consider the benefits we know come as a result of good genes: intelligence, longevity, and good health. There is no need for eugenics to be forced on the populace any more than we need to force people to go to University or attend trade training; people are more than capable of realizing when something is to their own benefit.
Personal development and the advancement of humanity are widely valued. In fact, they are so widely respected and assumed to be good things it seems strange to point out these are values and not universal constants. Philosophers frequently return to the idea of personal and public development as moral and social imperatives as well as ways of finding meaning in life, and eugenics could become an important tool in this process. The German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche built the idea into his moral philosophy, suggesting that one purpose of human life is to help create something even better—to “give birth to a dancing star” and engender the next generation of humanity. He considered the creation of these “superhuman” people to be a tremendous good and wrote a great deal describing the nature of these people and their moral character.
In Flow My Tears, Phil Dick shows us the good side of eugenics in Jason Taverner. Jason possesses traits that seem uncontroversially positive. He possesses an “incurable physical beauty” and has charisma “inscribed” on his chromosomes. Sixes have excellent healing abilities “carefully built into each of them.” He is strong and intelligent. Who wouldn’t want these qualities? What parent wouldn’t want their child to be born with them? And, in fact, we already strive to attain them through other means. For good looks people turn to a neverending litany of pseudo-scientific potions and unguents that promise to extend the first blush of youth, or to any number of medical procedures from injecting botox to paralyze muscles to resculpting bone, muscle and skin with surgery. If we’re already willing to turn medical science to beauty, why not the science of genetics? Is there a difference between resculpting the face with surgery and ensuring your offspring has a good, strong jaw-line through genetic screening or gene therapy?
One issue might be with the value of a trait. Not all Jason’s qualities are universally valued. Take his beauty, for instance. It’s often claimed that beauty has relative value: it’s in the eye of the beholder. Different people consider different things beautiful and as a standard it varies over time and place. In Japan, crooked teeth, or “yaeba,” are considered cute, while in other countries people go to great lengths to avoid crooked teeth. Dick’s favorite Latin quote, de gustibus non disputandum est, means “in matters of taste there’s no dispute” and Dick would likely consider Jason’s beauty a matter of taste since it reflects cultural mores that can and do change. Selecting for good health might be one thing; tampering with the human genome for cosmetic purposes is a different matter and may not be the best idea when we’re planning for the future of the species.
Well then, what about Jason’s genetically enhanced good health? Here’s a quality that is undoubtedly beneficial for both the individual and for society. Imagine the cost to society of conditions with strong genetic predictors: heart disease, diabetes, Alzheimer’s, cancer. Imagine the costs to the individuals. Screening for these conditions could allow a parent to give their child a chance at a better life. It’s already possible to test for a wide range of genetic conditions by testing the parents before conception and testing the fetus after conception. Many countries offer genetic counseling to parents to help inform their decisions.
One might argue that it’s impossible to decide the merits of a human life before it’s born. Some of history’s greatest thinkers and doers have suffered genetically-caused poor health. What would the world be like if we could have screened for the mental illness of Van Gogh, or the degenerative disease of Stephen Hawking? Phil Dick placed great value on life—any life. His stories abound with compassion for the smallest beings, whether it’s for toads and spiders in Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? or for cats in “The Alien Mind,” where a man who murders a cat is punished by aliens who, with a remarkable sense of poetic justice, send him on a two-year journey in a spaceship supplied only with cat kibble. Of the characters in Flow My Tears, the genetically-engineered Jason and his fellow six Heather leave no impact on the world after their deaths. In contrast, the plain-Jane potter Mary Anne Dominic is recognized with awards and leaves behind a legacy of cherished objects.
It’s true we can never know for sure h
ow happy or worthwhile an individual life will be, but it would be simplistic to let things lie there. While it’s possible for someone suffering from a wide variety of genetic maladies to live a wonderful life filled with personal happiness and to contribute greatly to society, we also know that their illnesses make it more difficult for them to do so. They might gain strength from overcoming the challenges in front of them, but for every individual made strong by their suffering, there are many more brought low by it. For the most part, people are able to live better lives if they are healthy, physically capable and intelligent.
It almost seems sacrilegious to say such a thing and—even if only at a statistical level—to value one type of life over another. Our modern society is built upon egalitarian and democratic ideals. We raise our kids on the belief that everyone is good at something, and that they are unique—just like everybody else. We raise them on the faith that they possess infinite potential and that their limits are only as wide as their imagination. But seriously, let’s be realistic. Not everyone is good at something, not everyone is unique, everyone has limits, and some people are capable of more than others. And on that note, lets turn to . . .
Philip K. Dick and Philosophy Page 15
