Human Nature: Science, Technology, and Life.

The Race Conversation, Continued

Based on the evidence so far, there's good reason to believe that genes influence everything and exclusively control nothing. Intelligence, in particular, is a field with lots of evidence for heredity but little evidence for the precise impact of any known gene. We're very early in this research. If you start poking around in scholarly debates over IQ and general intelligence, or "g," you start to realize how much the field resembles astronomy or particle physics, with entities and qualities being calculated from complex inferences rather than directly observed. That's not to say inferences and calculations aren't scientific. But we should beware mistaking them for unshakeable facts.

More here.

Color ID Suspended

Thanks to the eagle-eyed Center for Genetics and Society, I just learned that the fertility company that was advertising eye-, hair-, and skin-color selection in human embryos (which I've provisionally nicknamed Color ID) has dropped the plan, at least for now. Here's the full text of the statement released Monday by the Fertility Institutes:

In response to feedback received related to our plans to introduce preimplantation genetic prediction of eye pigmentation, an internal, self regulatory decision has been made to proceed no further with this project. Though well intended, we remain sensitive to public perception and feel that any benefit the diagnostic studies may offer are far outweighed by the apparent negative societal impacts involved. For those patients with albinism or other ocular pigmentation disorders, we continue to offer preimplantation genetic diagnosis in general but will not be investigating the genetics of pigmentation of any body structures.

It's not clear how long the company's decision "to proceed no further" will last. The statement is titled "Eye and Hair Color Program Suspension."

CGS calls this a mere "postponement" and urges Congress to step in. "Like the financial industry, the fertility industry has shown that it is incapable of regulating itself," the group argues. The Fertility Institutes' announcement of a "self-regulatory decision" to suspend Color ID seems to have been crafted to head off such regulation.

What's really interesting about the statement is the reference to being "sensitive to public perception." I wonder whether that evolving factor—public opinion about aesthetic embryo selection—will determine when the suspension ends.

Brainchild Abuse

An idea passes from one person to another to another, changing shape with every transaction. No one controls the outcome. Everyone in the chain knows what the idea means to him, but no one knows how the idea will turn out.

That's the story of PGD so far. I wonder how it ends.

More here.

Dog Bites Manier

As the great houses of journalism contract and collapse, what's happening to our best science writers? Here's one answer: Jeremy Manier, formerly of the Chicago Tribune, has set up a "Science Life" blog at the University of Chicago Medical Center.

If you haven't followed Jeremy's work over the years, treat yourself to a few of his fine pieces. Here's his take on synthetic biology last year. Here's his look at empathy among chimps. And here's his wrenching story about a Christian professor's struggle to reconcile faith with evolution.

In Sunday's blog installment, Jeremy picks a small bone with yours truly. To be precise, a dog bone. Last week, I wrote about the breeding of preferred dog traits using the frozen sperm of a long-dead show poodle. I concluded: "I want to throw up."

One thing I should have learned about bioethics by now: Mention anything close to puking, and you'll remind people of Leon Kass, whose "Wisdom of Repugnance" essay has been reduced by progressives, unfairly, to shorthand for irrational conservatism. I can almost draw the chain of linked neurons for you: vomit, repugnance, Kass, George W. Bush, and back to vomit.

But my own chain of neurons has carried me away. Back to Jeremy. Here's his critique:

In this case repugnance seems more silly than wise. Dog breeders have been using frozen sperm since the 1960s. As bioethical dilemmas go, it's a Brave Old World. Saletan wants to use dog breeding as an analogy for designer babies, but it may be hopelessly flawed for that purpose because it's so familiar. Such comfortable examples are of little help in imagining how awful genetic trait selection in human babies would be.

Hmmm. Well, here's my answer, for what it's worth: I was using a familiar example because that's what we have. In projecting the future, the best we can do, empirically, is to look for a similar practice in the present or past. The existing practice will differ in some ways from what we're imagining. But the similarities may shed some light.

So here's my question to Jeremy: What current practices would be more helpful than dog breeding in projecting/imagining genetic trait selection in humans? Human trait selection is what interests both of us. As to whether canine breeding is the best way to illuminate that future—well, as the saying goes, I've got no dog in that fight.

But I do have some dogs in the fight for the blogosphere. As the old media dissolve or evolve into the new, I'm rooting for great writers like Rob Stein, John Tierney, Rick Weiss, and Carl Zimmer—from whatever perches they can find—to help weave an Internet conversation about science and technology that's as rich and engaging as the best of the Web's political commentary. Add to that list: Jeremy Manier.

Designer Dogs

When the screening starts for real, what will it look like? Would we really select babies based on such superficial criteria?

It's impossible to predict the course of such a revolution with certainty. But we know that 10 percent of couples who seek genetic counseling say they'd screen for traits such as height and athleticism if they could. And we have a loose precedent that illuminates our propensity to tinker with aesthetic traits: dog breeding.

One of my favorite writers, Amy Harmon of the New York Times, explained two years ago why we should study dog breeding before plunging into trait selection in humans:

Free of most of the ethical concerns—and practical difficulties—associated with the practice of eugenics in humans, dog breeders are seizing on new genetic research to exert dominion over the canine gene pool. Companies with names like Vetgen and Healthgene have begun offering dozens of DNA tests to tailor the way dogs look, improve their health and, perhaps soon, enhance their athletic performance. But as dog breeders apply scientific precision to their age-old art, they find that the quest for genetic perfection comes with unforeseen consequences. And with DNA tests on their way for humans, the lessons of intervening in the nature of dogs may ultimately bear as much on us as on our best friends. "We're on the verge of a real radical shift in the way we apply genetics in our society," said Mark Neff, associate director of the veterinary genetics laboratory at the University of California, Davis. "It's better to be first confronted with some of these issues when they concern our pets than when they concern us."

So dog breeding offers cautionary lessons about what trait selection does to its targets. Does it also offer cautionary lessons about what trait selection does to its perpetrators?

Three years ago, I thought so. I argued that dogs were the world's longest self-serving, ecologically reckless genetic experiment, perpetrated by the world's first genetically engineering species: us. So here we are, three years later, turning the experiment on ourselves. What does dog breeding tell us about the culture of aesthetic eugenics?

As it happens, we got a good look at that culture last week, when the Westminster Kennel Club held its annual dog show. The Times' Katie Thomas used the occasion to examine the increasingly efficient practice of breeding dogs from frozen semen. "In 2006, the most recent year for which data is available, frozen semen was used to conceive 760 litters of [American Kennel Club]-approved puppies," she reported. Among other things, "[f]rozen semen has been used for decades by breeders who want to inject a dash of nostalgia into a litter of puppies." The owner of a canine semen bank explained, "One of the reasons people like to use frozen semen is to be able to dip back into a gene pool for a more classic look."

That's what the breeder of one of this year's winners at the dog show did: He made the dog using 25-year-old frozen sperm from a previous champion named Snapper. The breeder "said he had long lamented the decline of pizazz in modern-day poodles, the trademark ‘poodly temperament' that gives them such stage presence in the ring," Thomas reported. "He wondered if Snapper's genes would do the trick and create an exciting show dog."

The good news: The Frankenstein experiment worked. The poodle brought its long-dead sire's "sashay," "balance," and "fluid movement" back to life. It won the show.

The bad news: I want to throw up.

That's what aesthetic trait selection in humans will do to us. It will make our bodies prettier—and our souls uglier.

Screening Embryos With Color ID

Is the era of designer babies finally upon us?

Every week, it seems, we're told that this discovery or that technology might lead to "designer babies." I've heard this so many times that I've stopped taking it seriously. Genetic engineering always turns out to be more complicated than expected, and our latest technology always turns out to be less capable than advertised.

But now trait selection seems to be coming into view for real.

More here.

Incest and Eugenics

Does science support our laws against incest and cousin marriage? If so, does it also support other laws that would restrict sexual or procreative freedom in the name of genetic health?

To longtime readers of Human Nature, this question should be, if you'll pardon the term, familiar. A few years ago, we looked at the science and ethics of "The Love That Dare Not Speak Its Surname." Then we examined the prevalence of inbreeding in nature. Then we considered the awkward question of why, if incest is too genetically risky to permit, maternity in your 40s isn't.

Now biologist Hamish Spencer and political scientist Diane Paul, writing in PLOS Biology, have reviewed the history of U.S. laws against cousin marriage, along with their scientific basis. And again, the evidence raises unsettling implications.

They start with the statistical case against restricting cousin marriages:

[T]he National Society of Genetic Counselors (NSGC) convened a group of experts to review existing studies on risks to offspring and issue recommendations for clinical practice. Their report concluded that the risks of a first-cousin union were generally much smaller than assumed—about 1.7%-2% above the background risk for congenital defects and 4.4% for pre-reproductive mortality—and did not warrant any special preconception testing. In the authors' view, neither the stigma that attaches to such unions in North America nor the laws that bar them were scientifically well-grounded.

But Paul and Spencer point out that the data aren't clear-cut. First, "statistics on the risks associated with cousin marriage are necessarily averages across many traits, and they are likely to be different for different populations." And second, it's

inappropriate to extrapolate findings from largely outbred populations with occasional first-cousin marriages to populations with high coefficients of inbreeding and vice-versa. Standard calculations, such as the commonly cited 3% additional risk, examine a pedigree in which the ancestors (usually grandparents) are assumed to be unrelated. In North America, marriages between consanguineal kin are strongly discouraged. But such an assumption is unwarranted in the case of UK Pakistanis, who have emigrated from a country where such marriage is traditional and for whom it is estimated that roughly 55%-59% of marriages continue to be between first cousins. Thus, the usual risk estimates are misleading: data from the English West Midlands suggest that British Pakistanis account for only ~4.1% of births, but about 33% of the autosomal recessive metabolic errors recorded at birth.

In other words, the American calculations understate the risk for an already inbred population such as British Pakistanis. And calculations based on British Pakistanis overstate the risk for most American cousin couples. You can't draw a uniform line against cousin marriages based on science. Arguably, for the same reasons, you can't draw a uniform line against sibling incest.

The same case can be made against a uniform age of sexual consent. The authors point out,

Beginning in the 1860s, many states passed anti-miscegenation laws, increased the statutory age of marriage, and adopted or expanded medical and mental-capacity restrictions in marriage law. Thus, laws prohibiting cousin marriage were but one aspect of a more general trend to broaden state authority in areas previously considered private.

As Human Nature has noted before, the age of actual maturity varies considerably depending on the person and the type of maturity (sexual, cognitive, emotional) involved. Granted, lawmakers have to draw lines somewhere. But let's not pretend such consistent lines are consistently apt.

Moreover, Paul and Spencer raise a far more troubling problem: The increase in genetic risk caused by cousin marriages among British Pakistanis may actually be overstated, for a curious reason.

[F]or a variety of reasons (including fear that a cousin marriage would result in their being blamed for any birth defects), UK Pakistanis are less likely to use prenatal testing and to terminate pregnancies. Thus the population attributable risk of genetic diseases at birth due to inbreeding may be skewed by prenatal elimination of affected fetuses in non-inbred populations.

In other words, many of the birth defects cited by British politicians as grounds for restricting cousin marriages may actually be the result not of cousin marriage, but of failure to screen and abort defective fetuses. So, in addition to maternity in your 40s, we now have a second logical target for genetic regulation: If inbreeding is too dangerous, what about "inflicting" maladies on your children by failing to screen the embryos? If you know you carry bad genes—and particularly if you're at higher risk of passing down a serious disease than most sibling couples would be—shouldn't we police your procreation just as carefully?

Faith and Healing

Should parents go to jail for believing so devoutly in faith healing that they don't seek lifesaving medical treatment for their children?

Leilani and Dale Neumann of Wausau, Wis., will soon find out. Their 11-year-old daughter died of diabetic complications after they relied on prayer rather than doctors to heal her. Now they face trial for reckless endangerment and a potential prison sentence of 25 years. They're the third couple slapped with criminal charges in the last year for failing to seek treatment for a child. In today's New York Times, Dirk Johnson reports:

About 300 children have died in the United States in the last 25 years after medical care was withheld on religious grounds, said Rita Swan, executive director of Children's Health Care Is a Legal Duty ... Criminal codes in 30 states, including Wisconsin, provide some form of protection for practitioners of faith healing in cases of child neglect and other matters ...

Swan lost her own son after failing to seek prompt medical attention. She says she waited, catastrophically, because she thought "once we went to the doctor, we'd be cut off from God." The Neumanns seem to have been under the same impression. Johnson reports that they're "followers of an online faith outreach group" (on the Web here) that includes, among other things, an essay preaching that "Jesus never sent anyone to a doctor or a hospital. Jesus offered healing by one means only! Healing was by faith."

I don't know how the case will turn out. But the more important thing to communicate to parents is that this is bad religion. Science is a way of grappling with what we can know empirically. Religion is a way of grappling with what we can't. Each of these disciplines must recognize its limits and defer, beyond that, to its counterpart. Properly understood, there's nothing unscientific about religion, and there's nothing irreligious about science.

I'm not saying the distinction is perfectly clean. It isn't. Sometimes religion and science have to work together. But it's crucial to ask which kind of question you're facing. Healing is a physical phenomenon. Can faith influence it? Yes. Look at the latest study on acupuncture: It sometimes works, apparently because patients believe in it. But what happens when people pray for your recovery without you knowing about it? Answer: Nothing. Belief, not God, is the medically salient factor.

That's how science, at its best, works with religion. It doesn't claim to disprove God's existence. It can't. It addresses only empirically testable ideas, including faith healing. And it reports whatever its methods find. Instead of laughing at acupuncture, it looks at the evidence, admits that acupuncture sometimes works, and tries to figure out why.

Religion, at its best, needs the same humility. God isn't stupid. He doesn't give you a hammer and insist that you bang nails with your head. If this is his world, then so are the tools he has given you: doctors, medicine, and your brain. In the time of Jesus, most people died in childhood. Do you want to go back to that? Do you think that those deaths were God's will—but that today's long lives, made possible by modern medicine, aren't?

As medicine advances, difficult moral questions will arise. If failure to seek available treatment is reckless endangerment, what happens when the available treatment comes, for example, from destroying embryos to get stem cells? Can you be jailed for refusing to give your daughter treatment that's based on what you regard as killing? Or take embryo screening: Already, it has advanced to the point where parents who make babies the old-fashioned way, with all its risks, are seen as "inflicting" genetic maladies on their kids.

But taking your gravely ill child to the doctor isn't one of those tough calls. God doesn't hate doctors. He made them. Want to show your faith? Use what he gave you.

Eugenic Euphemisms

First, we said IVF embryos weren't pregnancies. That's technically correct: Pregnancy begins when the embryo implants in the womb. Then we called early embryos "pre-embryos" so we could dismantle them to get stem cells. That was technically incorrect, but we did it because it made us feel better. Now we're adjusting the word conception. Henceforth, testing of IVF embryos to decide which will live or die is "preconception." Don't fret about the six eggs we fertilized, rejected, and flushed in selecting this baby. They were never really conceived. In fact, they weren't embryos. According to Serhal, each was just "an affected cluster of cells."

More here.

Eggonomics

Looking for some extra income to make ends meet during the recession? Try selling eggs. Not chicken eggs. Your eggs.

Melinda Beck has the story in today's Wall Street Journal:

Here's another sign of the tough economic times: Some clinics are reporting a surge in the number of women applying to donate eggs or serve as surrogate mothers for infertile couples.
"Whenever the employment rate is down, we get more calls," says Robin von Halle, president of Alternative Reproductive Resources, an agency in Chicago where inquiries from would-be egg donors are up 30% in recent weeks—to about 60 calls a day. "We're even getting men offering up their wives. It's pretty scary." James Liu, a reproductive endocrinologist at University Hospitals, Case Medical Center, in Cleveland, says there is no waiting now for egg donors since his roster has swelled from the usual 4 to 17. Andrew Vorzimer, an attorney who represents prospective parents in Los Angeles, says the usual six-month wait for a surrogate in California has vanished as well. "Many of these women have college loans to pay off or they want to help buy a house or provide for their own kids' education," says Mr. Vorzimer, who is also CEO of Egg Donation Inc., a recruiting agency.

So the good news is, you have an exploitable asset in your ovaries. The bad news is, you have to compete with all the other young women—and apparently their husbands—who have realized the same thing. Did I mention the daily hormone shots? The prohibition on intercourse? The needle extraction?

Still, it's a better deal than lots of people in the developing world are getting. They're selling kidneys; you're only selling eggs. And you can make a lot more money than they can. Beck lays out the numbers:

The going rate for a surrogate is about $25,000. Egg donors generally receive $3,000 to $8,000. But a few agencies advertise that they'll pay much more for specific characteristics. One ad running in campus newspapers promises $25,000 for a donor who is "100% Jewish with ... High SAT Scores... Attractive, at Healthy Body Weight and Free of Genetic Diseases." ... "Now that we have more donors, it's become a buyer's market," Ms. von Halle says. "Some people are looking for a 6-foot Swedish volleyball player with 39 ACTs, and they'll take their time." ... Darlene Pinkerton, executive director of A Perfect Match in San Diego, which offers up to $50,000 for egg donors with high SATs ... [has] seen a doubling of inquiries recently. The American Society for Reproductive Medicine considers compensation above $10,000 to be inappropriate; Ms. Pinkerton argues that the offer brings in donors who might not otherwise be interested.

In other words, the egg market is working like any other market. A Perfect Match is offering big bucks for exactly the same reason the ASRM opposes this practice—because money can persuade people to do things they otherwise wouldn't do. Actually, the 50 grand supplies only half the persuasion. The other half comes from the recession. You need money; you're running out of options; here's a way to get it.

But ordinary eggs won't get you the 50 grand. For that, you'll need the SAT scores, and the face, and maybe a bit more height. You'll need to be tested for the wrong genes—and maybe for the right ones, now that we can project athletic potential from specific variants.

Do you find this scrutiny degrading? Does the whole tiered pricing system offend you? Then go look in the mirror. Catering to buyers' tastes is part of selling. I know it's a lousy economy out there. But if you don't want others treating your eggs as a commodity, don't treat them that way yourself.

More on Sports Genes

I forgot to do something Monday that I need to start doing from now on: posting an item here each time I write a longer essay in Slate. The item here will just link to the essay and summarize it. Or maybe it'll just be the opening paragraph or something. The reason I'm doing this is to simplify things so you don't have to go to two different places, or subscribe to two different RSS feeds, to get the latest Human Nature whatever. Last spring I set up a network of separate HN pages. Result: The more clicks readers had to go through to find each page, the lamer the traffic got. My tentative conclusion: You're busy, and you don't have time to go poking around looking for a lot of stuff, and my job is to make it easier for you to find what interests you in one place. So: Here it is. You can read the short stuff here, and the longer stuff, and eventually we'll have blog software that will let me post more links to outside pieces, in case you're into that.

If you want to RSS this page, you can use the RSS or Atom links on the right. Or you can bookmark it using the URL at the top: http://www.slate.com/blogs/blogs/humannature/default.aspx. Or, for those of you who prefer a URL that's easier to remember and type (as I do), I just bought humanature.com (one N—all the double-N humannatures were taken), so you can just type "humanature" in your browser window, hit control-enter, and it'll bring you here.

Now, here's the link to Monday's piece. It's about a test that's being marketed to parents to tell them which version of a "sports gene" their kid has. I called this an early version of environmental eugenics or "envireugenics." The language guardians at Commentary have already criticized this as a misnomer and an "ugly Greco-Latin hodgepodge"—the sort of response that, when I've delivered it, has prompted my wife to dismiss me as a "usage pedant." So clearly I'm among friends.

Misha Angrist, the delightfully acerbic "Genome Boy," has also posted in response, which completes our mutual name-check, since in part I was responding to him in the first place. I wrote in Monday's piece that the company behind the new gene-testing pitch, Atlas Sports Genetics, was peddling "national greatness." Angrist replies, "I suspect these companies are more interested in making a killing than they are in 'national greatness.' " (He also says he'd write to me if Slate were "less covetous of its reporters' email addresses." This I have to take from a guy who doesn't put his name on his site? Misha, the least I can do is trade you my e-mail address for your genome. The reason I don't post it is that I once gave it out to a newsletter for PR companies, and now I spend 10 minutes a day fending off e-mails from PR companies. It's in the mail.)

The problem I keep having with Angrist is that I want to quibble with his interpretations, but I can't find fault with his facts. I'm sure he's right that Atlas is in this for the money. I guess what I'm arguing is that in a situation like this, there are two motives: the private one and the public one. Here, the private motive is profit. The public motive is national greatness. The public motive is the one the company presents to potential customers who visit its Web site. This is literally the only message on its home page: "Finding any great Olympic champion normally takes years to determine. What if we knew a part of the answer when we were born?"

Olympic champ? That's a pretty extreme standard to throw at parents up front. Maybe the company thinks there are a lot of parents who seriously envision their kids winning Olympic events. (I envision my kid's soccer team winning more than one game next spring.) But my guess is that the company also feels some obligation to make its public pitch fit the scientific evidence behind the test. And the evidence doesn't show genetic differences in athletic performance at childhood or even ordinary adult levels. It shows such differences at the level of international meets.

I'm not saying the public motive excludes the private one. It's already clear from Sunday's New York Times story that funneling kids toward national greatness is part of Atlas' business plan. I'm just saying that the two motives can operate in tandem, or at least side by side.

The One-Child Warranty, Continued

Last week I wrote about the warranty on children killed by the recent earthquake in China. I referred to an exemption to the country's one-child policy, allowing parents who lost their kids to replace them. At one point, I asked, "Why should the warranty apply only to this earthquake? What about the floods of 1991 and 1998? What about the drought of 1988? How many couples lost their only kids in those calamities? Where's their compensation?"

Many of you wrote in to correct me, noting that the replacement allowance is a general rule under the one-child policy. I wasn't satisfied with these assertions, so I went to the Chinese government's Web site for clarification. After some digging around, the only direct nationwide statement I could find was in the "Population and Family Planning Law of the People's Republic of China," adopted in 2001. Here's the basic language (Article 18):

The State maintains its current policy for reproduction, encouraging late marriage and childbearing and advocating one child per couple. Where the requirements specified by laws and regulations are met, plans for a second child, if requested, may be made. Specific measures in this regard shall be formulated by the people's congress or its standing committee of a province, autonomous region, or municipality directly under the Central Government.

And here's the sole reference to damaged children (Article 27):

Where the only child of a couple is disabled or killed in accidents, and the couple decides not to have or adopt another child, the local people's government shall provide the couple with necessary assistance.

So, the general policy is vague. Implicitly, at least, you can decide to have another child if yours is killed or even disabled, as long as the tragedy was an accident.

Slate's Lucy Morrow Caldwell contacted several China experts who helped us with the original "Explainer" on this topic. We couldn't find records of the policy being waived in previous disasters, but Vanessa Fong of Harvard and Wang Feng of the University of California confirmed that the policy has traditionally permitted a second child if the first is killed or disabled. Cindy Sun of Fudan University directed us to a May 28 statement from the National Population and Family Planning Commission of China. The statement includes a clause that an acquaintance of mine translates as follows:

To the families whose children were injured or killed in the earthquake, the benefit of additional birth should be given, according to the number, sex, and injury of the children who survived the disaster.

In other words, precise numerical replacement, with different values for boys and girls, since many rural parents are allowed to have a second child if the first is a girl.

We also found a link to the earthquake policy issued by the Family Planning Commission in Chengdu, the capital of Sichuan Province, which bore the brunt of the disaster. A second acquaintance paraphrases its main points this way:

1) A "green light" for parents whose only child was injured, disabled, or killed.
2) The government will proactively work with these parents if they wish to have another child. This includes registering them and providing reproductive services.

Here's his translation of the policy's fine print on injury or disability:

Medical identification shall be conducted on injured/disabled children of single-child families. If the child is certified to have second-degree or above injury or disability, the parents shall be assisted to apply for bearing a second child.

A third acquaintance translates the fine print somewhat differently:

For those whose only child was disabled in the earthquake, local Birth-Control Agencies shall record the cases and compare them to the "Medical Disability Standards for Children from One-Child Family." For those qualified, the local agencies shall help them file the applications for the birth of a second child. The Birth-Control Council of Chengdu city will perform medical assessment and approval process promptly.

One final note: Article 11 of Sichuan's family-planning regulations stipulates that couples may have a second child if "the first child has non-genetic defects and is unable to grow up to be a normal laborer."

So, here's the full policy, as far as I can piece it together from the available documents: You can replace your child (in the numerical sense) in the event of death or disability, as long as the cause was an accident. Extent of replacement depends on the number and sex of the children you lost. Replacement for disability requires medical certification that the damage is second-degree, as measured by official standards. Replacement is also available for disabling defects, but not if they're genetic, presumably because in that case the replacement might be similarly defective.

Got that? To me, it sounds a lot like the piece of paper that came with my PC monitor. So, there's your warranty. Let's hope you never have to use it.

Little Green Men

The genetically engineered humans are here! The genetically engineered humans are here!

I didn't believe it when I heard the report was in the Sunday Times of London. This, after all, is the paper that butchered the gay sheep story and can't find any evidence to back up its disputed paraphrases of James Watson. But the original report, which the Sunday Times neglects to mention, turns out to have been published in a scientific journal, Fertility and Sterility. It's titled, "Genetic modification of preimplantation embryos and embryonic stem cells (ESC) by recombinant lentiviral vectors: efficient and stable method for creating transgenic embryos and ESC."

For those of you who don't have access to the pricey journal, the New York Times boils down the experiment: Scientists "put a gene for a fluorescent protein into the single-celled human embryo," and "after the embryo divided for three days, all the cells in the embryo glowed."

What's new in this experiment isn't genetic modification of humans. We've already done that in limited doses, through the same viral technique. What's new is that because this was a single-celled embryo, every cell it went on to produce, including egg and sperm cells, would (except for the diploid-haploid transition, which gets complicated) carry the same genetic tweak. If the embryo were implanted and grew into an adult, its fluorescent gene would be passed down like any other. This is called germline modification. If you wanted to transform our species or give your offspring an advantage that persists through generations, this is how you'd do it.

Naturally, genetic watchdog groups are freaked out. Human Genetics Alert calls it a prelude to "eugenics" and "designer babies" and demands an "international moratorium on such experiments." The Center for Genetics and Society says it "could push us toward a GATTACA-like world" dominated by "the genetically enhanced."

The scientists, based at Cornell University, offer several responses. First, they used no U.S. federal funds, so no legal restrictions were violated. Second, the gene conveyed no enhancements; it was just a green "marker" to help them see whether it was replicated in subsequent cell divisions. Third, the experiment "was done on an embryo that was never going to be viable," due to pre-existing chromosomal defects. Fourth, they destroyed the embryo after five days, as required by a Cornell review committee.

The watchdog groups are alarmed because Britain's parliament is presently debating legislation to lift restrictions on human embryonic genetic modification. (See yesterday's post about the bill's pregnant-man loophole.) But proponents of the legislation point out that the law would still ban growing such embryos beyond 14 days or transferring them to a womb.

When you line up the points made by scientists and liberalizers, it's easier to understand what's really going on here. It's not that we're plowing unimpeded toward genetic engineering of children. To the contrary, we've drawn lines to prevent that: the 14-day limit and the no-implantation rule. What's going on is that by drawing these lines, we've created a zone where virtually no legal or moral rules apply. Look at the American and British treatment of cloning, and you'll see the same pattern. You can clone embryos, mix species, and engineer all you want, as long as you don't implant the embryos or grow them beyond 14 days.

Maybe this system will allow us to make important scientific discoveries and conquer diseases without crossing the lines we've drawn. On the other hand, maybe it'll turn embryos into a testing ground for techniques that we'll use for people-engineering when we're ready to go there. Or maybe we'll relax the rules a bit at a time, extending our techniques to more advanced embryos as we test and refine them. We'll tell ourselves that we're curing genetic diseases in the womb so that babies and their babies will be born healthy.

The argument for the latter scenario is that, far from being diabolical, the idea of loosening the 14-day rule makes a lot of sense. The Cornell scientists point out that genetically modified embryos "could be used to study how diseases develop" and that "in order to be sure that the new gene had been inserted and the embryo had been genetically modified, scientists would ideally need to grow the embryo and carry out further tests." The longer you grow the embryo, the more you learn.

How long could we grow genetically modified embryos if we lift the 14-day rule? According to the New York Times, "A spokesman for the National Institutes of Health said the Cornell work would not be classified as gene therapy in need of federal review, because a test-tube embryo is not considered a person under the regulations." Roughly speaking, U.S. law confers personhood at viability. That's five months or so. Plenty of time for good work to be done.

I don't mean to make this scenario sound imminent. But as we ease ourselves into the world of genetic engineering, let's notice what we're doing. We're chalking off a zone where the ethics of human manipulation don't apply, on the grounds that the human entities we're manipulating aren't human beings. Seven years ago, scientists and supportive ethicists set up a similar ethics-free zone based on origin: Human embryos produced by fertilization were protected, while those produced by cloning were fair game. Now we've shifted to lines based on age and location.

Will these lines hold? You can't dismiss the fear that they won't as slippery-slope nonsense from the anti-abortion crowd. Embryo research is fundamentally different from abortion. If you're a woman with an unwanted pregnancy, you have no incentive to prolong it. But if you're a scientist with an embryo modified for research, you have lots of good reasons to keep growing it and studying it. The only things holding you back are your conscience, your review board, and the law.

Here's my prediction: We won't end up extending species-mixing beyond the 14-day line. Nor will we end up deliberately growing embryos past that point for harvestable tissue, as I previously speculated. But we will extend germline genetic engineering all the way through pregnancy and beyond, and our grandchildren will wonder why it was ever controversial.