John Harris*
John
Harris holds the Sir David Alliance Chair of Bioethics at the
University of Manchester, UK. He is the author of Clones, Genes and
Immortality (Oxford University Press, Oxford, 1998) and editor, with Sĝren
Holm, of The Future of Human Reproduction (Clarendon Press, Oxford,
1998). He is a member of the United Kingdom Human Genetics Commission.
Is it simply a design fault that we age
and die? If cells were not programmed to age; if the telomeres, which govern
the number of times a cell divides, did not shorten with each division; if our
bodies could repair damage due to disease and aging, we would live much longer
and healthier lives. New research now allows a glimpse into a world in which
aging--and even death--may no longer be inevitable. Cloned human embryonic stem
cells, appropriately reprogrammed, might be used for constant regeneration of
organs and tissue. Injections of growth factors might put the body into a state
of constant renewal. We may be able to switch off the genes in the early embryo
that trigger aging, rendering it "immortal" (but not invulnerable). We
do not know when, or even if, such techniques could be developed and made safe,
but some scientists believe it is possible.
These scientific advances could
lead to significantly extended life-spans, well beyond the maximum natural age
of about 120 years. The development of these technologies may be far in the
future, but the moral and social issues raised by them should be discussed now.
Once a technology has been developed, it may be difficult to stop or control.
Equally, fears provoked by technological developments may prove unfounded;
acting precipitately on those fears may cut us off from real benefits. Scanning
future horizons will enable us to choose and prepare for the futures that we
want, or arm us against futures that, while undesired, we cannot prevent.
The technology required to
enable extended life-spans is likely to be expensive. Increased life expectancy
would therefore be confined, at least initially, to a small minority of the
population even in technologically advanced countries. Globally, the divide
between high-income and low-income countries would increase. Populations with
increased life-spans would be unlike our aging populations. The new
"immortals" would neither be old, nor frail, nor necessarily retired.
We have, however, learned that ageism is a form of discrimination, and this may
make it more difficult to resist the pressure for longevity.
We thus face the prospect of
"mortals" and "immortals" existing alongside one another.
Such parallel populations seem inherently undesirable, but it is not clear that
we could, or should, do anything to prevent such a prospect for reasons of
justice or morality. If increased life expectancy is a good, should we deny
palpable goods to some people because we cannot provide them for everyone? We
do not refuse kidney transplants to some patients because we cannot provide
them for all, nor do we regard ourselves as wicked because we perform many such
transplants, while low-income countries perform few or none at all.
Would substantially increased life
expectancy be a benefit? Some people regard the prospect of
"immortality" with distaste or even horror; others desire it above
all else. Most people fear death, and the prospect of personal extended
life-span is likely to be welcomed. But it is one thing to contemplate our own
"immortality," quite another to contemplate a world in which
increasing numbers of people live indefinitely, and in which future children
have to compete with previous generations for jobs, space, and everything else.
Such a prospect may make
"immortality" seem unattractive, but we should remember that it is
connected with preventing or curing a whole range of serious diseases. It is
one thing to ask whether we should increase people's life-spans, and to answer
no; it is quite another to ask whether we should make people immune to heart
disease, cancer, dementia, and to decide that we should not. It might thus be
appropriate to think of "immortality" as the, possibly unwanted, side
effect of treating or preventing debilitating illness.
There are numerous reasons why
we should not contemplate one everlasting generation but be in favor of the
regular creation of new human individuals--such as the desire to procreate, the
pleasures of having and rearing children, the advantages of fresh people and
fresh ideas, and the possibility of continued evolution or at least
development. If these reasons are powerful, we might be facing a future in
which the most ethical course is a sort of generational cleansing. This would
involve deciding collectively how long it is reasonable for people to live in
each generation, and trying to ensure that as many as possible live healthy
lives of that length. We would then have to ensure that, having lived a fair
inning, they died--either by suicide or euthanasia, or by programming cells to
switch the aging process on again after a certain time--to make way for future
generations.
This might seem desirable, but
it is difficult to imagine how it could be enforced, at least if our
time-honored ethical principles remain unreformed. How could a society resolve
deliberately to curtail healthy life, while maintaining a commitment to the
sanctity of life? The contemplation of making sure that people who wish to go
on living cannot do so is terrible indeed.
Faced with this problem, society
might be tempted to offer people life-prolonging therapies only on condition
that they did not reproduce, except perhaps posthumously, or that they agreed
if they did reproduce to forfeit their right to subsequent therapies. However,
reproductive liberty is a powerful right protected by international
conventions. It would be difficult to justify curtailing it, and even more
difficult to police any curtailment.
It is unlikely that we can stop
the progression to increased life-spans and even "immortality," and
it is doubtful that we can produce coherent ethical objections. We should start
thinking now about how we can live decently and creatively with the prospect of
such lives.
The author is at the Institute of Medicine, Law and Bioethics,
University of Manchester, Manchester, M13 9PL, UK. E-mail: John.M.Harris@man.ac.uk
Science June 9, 2000 (p. 1778)
Anne McLaren
If all cells come from cells, as
Rudolf Virchow postulated in the 1850s, all but the most short-lived animals
must harbor a reserve of cells to replace those that die or are damaged. This
reserve consists of stem cells (1). They
are defined as those cells which can divide to produce a daughter like
themselves (self-renewal) as well as a daughter that will give rise to specific
differentiated cells. Stem cells in the body may be unipotent, like
spermatogenic stem cells (which are responsible for the continuing production
of spermatozoa), or they can be multipotent, like neural or hemopoietic stem
cells, which give rise respectively to all the varied cell types in the nervous
system or in the blood and immune system. Given the possibility of directed
differentiation of stem cells, these multipotent somatic stem cell lines may
prove to be of significant clinical value (2).
Experimentally, it has also
proved possible to create immortalized pluripotent stem cells. In 1981,
pluripotent embryonic stem (ES) cell lines derived from mouse blastocysts were
reported (3).
These will proliferate indefinitely in vitro as undifferentiated cells, but
will also differentiate when the culture conditions are modified, and when
introduced back into an embryo, they will successfully colonize every cell
lineage including the germ line. However, pluripotent stem cells cannot on
their own make an embryo, that is, they are not totipotent.
Undifferentiated ES cell lines have been extensively used in mice for genetic
manipulation, including the introduction of new genetic material as well as
knocking out and replacing genes. Later, similar pluripotential stem cell lines
were derived from mouse embryonic germ (EG) cells (4).
Despite energetic attempts, it proved extremely difficult to make ES or EG cell
lines from any species other than the mouse.
That changed in 1998 when James
Thomson and colleagues in Wisconsin reported that they had derived human
pluripotential stem cell lines from surplus blastocysts donated by patients
undergoing infertility treatment involving in vitro fertilization (5). In
the same year, John Gearhart and colleagues reported the derivation of human EG
cell lines from aborted human fetal material (6). All
these lines are now owned by Geron Corp. of Menlo Park, California; some others
have been made elsewhere and are being studied in Australia.
Intense activity is now being
focused on both mouse and human pluripotential stem cells, in an attempt to
induce directed differentiation to defined cell types in culture, for example,
by exposing the cells to signaling molecules such as retinoic acid and
cytokines, as well as by genetic manipulation (7). The
ultimate aim here is to supply transplant surgeons with a readily available
supply of any tissue for the repair of damaged or diseased organs so that the
need for organ donors would drop. Harold Varmus, until recently director of the
National Institutes of Health (NIH), stated before Congress: "There is
almost no realm of medicine that might not be touched by this innovation."
Among the many medical possibilities are the use of cardiac muscle cells for
heart problems, pancreatic islet cells for diabetes, liver cells for hepatitis,
and neural cells for Parkinson's or Alzheimer's disease. In animal models, some
successes have already been achieved: ES cell-derived cardiac muscle cells have
been incorporated into damaged rat hearts, and neural cells introduced into the
brain of a mouse model of multiple sclerosis have differentiated into appropriate
cell types (8).
In mice, EG cells introduced
into embryos have led to some abnormalities, so they may be less suitable than
ES cells for clinical use (9). ES
cells raise ethical problems, however, as they are derived from early human
embryos. Some people believe that fertilized human eggs and early embryos are
already persons. They will therefore object to their use for research, even for
such ends as cell and tissue therapy to reduce human suffering and disease.
Others argue that, because the donated blastocysts will never be transferred to
a uterus, it is preferable for them to be used for a beneficent purpose than to
merely be left to perish. NIH is now prepared to fund research on human
pluripotential stem cells that have been derived according to certain
guidelines, but they will not fund the derivation of such lines.
References and Notes
Time January 11, 1999 (p.
74)
|
Dolly's
False Legacy
There is more to cloning than mere science--and more to
human character than scientists can discover in a person's genes
The announcement in February
1997 of the birth of a sheep named Dolly, an exact genetic replica of its
mother, sparked a worldwide debate over the moral and medical implications of
cloning. Several U.S. states and European countries have banned the cloning of
human beings, yet South Korean scientists claimed last month that they had
already taken the first step. In the following essay for TIME, embryologist
Wilmut, who led the team that brought Dolly to life at Scotland's Roslin
Institute, explains why he believes the debate over cloning people has largely
missed the point.
Overlooked in the arguments
about the morality of artificially reproducing life is the fact that, at
present, cloning is a very inefficient procedure. The incidence of death among
fetuses and offspring produced by cloning is much higher than it is through
natural reproduction--roughly 10 times as high as normal before birth and three
times as high after birth in our studies at Roslin. Distressing enough for
those working with animals, these failure rates surely render unthinkable the
notion of applying such treatment to humans.
Even if the technique were
perfected, however, we must ask ourselves what practical value whole-being
cloning might have. What exactly would be the difference between a
"cloned" baby and a child born naturally--and why would we want one?
The cloned child would be a
genetically identical twin of the original, and thus physically very
similar--far more similar than a natural parent and child. Human personality,
however, emerges from both the effects of the genes we inherit (nature) and
environmental factors (nurture). The two clones would develop distinct
personalities, just as twins develop unique identities. And because the copy
would often be born in a different family, cloned twins would be less alike in
personality than natural identical twins.
Why "copy" people in
the first place? Couples unable to have children might choose to have a copy of
one of them rather than accept the intrusion of genes from a donor. My wife and
I have two children of our own and an adopted child, but I find it helpful to
consider what might have happened in my own marriage if a copy of me had been
made to overcome infertility. My wife and I met in high school. How would she
react to a physical copy of the young man she fell in love with? How would any
of us find living with ourselves? Surely the older clone--I, in this
case--would believe that he understood how the copy should behave and so be
even more likely than the average father to impose expectations upon his child.
Above all, how would a teenager cope with looking at me, a balding, aging man,
and seeing the physical future ahead of him?
Each of us can imagine
hypothetical families created by the introduction of a cloned child--a copy of
one partner in a homosexual relationship or of a single parent, for example.
What is missing in all this is consideration of what's in the interests of the
cloned child. Because there is no form of infertility that could be overcome
only by cloning, I do not find these proposals acceptable. My concerns are not
on religious grounds or on the basis of a perceived intrinsic ethical
principle. Rather, my judgment is that it would be difficult for families
created in this way to provide an appropriate environment for the child.
Cloning is also suggested as a
means of bringing back a relative, usually a child, killed tragically. Any
parent can understand that wish, but it must first be recognized that the copy
would be a new baby and not the lost child. Herein lies the difficulty, for the
grieving parents are seeking not a new baby but a return of the dead one. Since
the original would be fondly remembered as having particular talents and
interests, would not the parent expect the copy to be the same? It is possible,
however, that the copy would develop quite differently. Is it fair to the new
child to place it in a family with such unnatural expectations?
What if the lost child was very
young? The shorter the life, the fewer the expectations parents might place on
the substitute, right? If a baby dies within a few days of birth and there is
no reason to think that death was caused by an inherited defect, would it then
be acceptable to make a copy? Is it practical to frame legislation that would
prevent copying of adults or older children, but allow copying of infants? At
what age would a child be too old to be copied in the event of death?
Copying is also suggested as a
means by which parents can have the child of their dreams. Couples might choose
to have a copy of a film star, baseball player or scientist, depending on their
interests. But because personality is only partly the result of genetic
inheritance, conflict would be sure to arise if the cloned child failed to
develop the same interests as the original. What if the copy of Einstein shows
no interest in science? Or the football player turns to acting? Success also
depends upon fortune. What of the child who does not live up to the hopes and
dreams of the parent simply because of bad luck?
Every child should be wanted for
itself, as an individual. In making a copy of oneself or some famous person, a
parent is deliberately specifying the way he or she wishes that child to
develop. In recent years, particularly in the U.S., much importance has been
placed on the right of individuals to reproduce in ways that they wish. I
suggest that there is a greater need to consider the interests of the child and
to reject these proposed uses of cloning.
By contrast, human cloning
could, in theory, be used to obtain tissues needed to treat disorders such as
Parkinson's disease and diabetes. These diseases are associated with cell types
that do not repair or replace themselves, but suitable cells will one day be
grown in culture. These uses cannot be justified now; nor are they likely to be
in the near future.
Moreover, there is a lot we do
not know about the effects of cloning, especially in terms of aging. As we grow
older, changes occur in our cells that reduce the number of times they can
reproduce. This clock of age is reset by normal reproduction during the
production of sperm and eggs; that is why children of each new generation have
a full life span. It is not yet known whether aging is reversed during cloning
or if the clone's natural life is shortened by the years its parent has already
lived. Then there is the problem of the genetic errors that accumulate in our
cells. There are systems to seek out and correct such errors during normal
reproduction; it is not known if that can occur during cloning. Research with
animals is urgently required to measure the life span and determine the cause
of death of animals produced by cloning.
Important questions also remain
on the most appropriate means of controlling the development and use of these
techniques. It is taken for granted that the production and sale of drugs will
be regulated by governments, but this was not always the case. A hundred years
ago, the production and sale of drugs in the U.S. was unregulated. Unscrupulous
companies took the opportunity to include in their products substances, like
cocaine, that were likely to make the patients feel better even if they offered
no treatment for the original condition. After public protest, championed by
publications such as the Ladies' Home Journal, a federal act was passed in
1906. An enforcement agency, known now as the FDA, was established in 1927. An
independent body similar to the FDA is now required to assess all the research
on cloning.
There is much still to be
learned about the biology associated with cloning. The time required for this
research, however, will also provide an opportunity for each society to decide
how it wishes the technique to be used. At some point in the future, cloning
will have much to contribute to human medicine, but we must use it cautiously.
ROME, Italy (CNN) -- An
international group of fertility experts has announced details of their plans
to be the first scientists to clone a human being.
The group, meeting in Rome,
discussed their strategy for human and so-called therapeutic cloning to help
tackle a range of degenerative diseases.
The plan has come under heavy
fire from scientific and religious camps and has been attacked as
"grotesque" by the Vatican.
The team includes Italian
obstetrician Severino Antinori, who became famous for helping a 62-year-old
woman give birth.
Antinori said: "Cloning
creates ordinary children. They will be unique individuals, not photocopies of
individuals."
Bishop Elio Sgreccia, head of
the John Paul II Institute for Bioethics at Rome's Gemelli hospital, said human
cloning raised profoundly disturbing ethical issues.
"Those who made the atomic
bomb went ahead in spite of knowing about its terrible destruction," he
said before the cloning meeting started. "But this doesn't mean that it
was the best choice for humanity."
Dr Ian Wilmut, who created
Dolly, the world's first cloned sheep, said it took 277 tries to get it right.
Other cloning attempts have
ended in malformed animals and experts say the technique fails in 97 percent of
cases.
Antinori and his partner, U.S.
scientist Panayiotis Zavos, say they plan to carry out the first operation in
an unidentified Mediterranean country, starting in October.
Zavos, who first announced the
proposal in Lexington, Kentucky, in January, told the symposium on Friday that
he had been flooded by e-mail from couples seeking to have children through
cloning.
"Dolly is here and we are
next," he said.
Last year, Britain proposed
allowing human cells to be cloned for research purposes while other European
countries, including Spain and France have banned human cloning altogether.
Antinori first attracted
controversy when he helped a 62-year-old woman have a baby eight years ago by
implanting an egg in her womb.
In the cloning experiment, cells
from an infertile father would be injected into an egg, which is then implanted
in the mother's uterus for the pregnancy.
The resulting child would have
the same physical characteristics as his father and infertile parents would not
have to rely on sperm donors.
The chairman of the Human
Fertilisation and Embryology Authority, Ruth Deech, said: "There are lines
you should not cross.
"You have to consider
humanity as a whole and say there are limits beyond which we should not go for
the sake of future generations and for respect for the autonomy and dignity of
present generations."