Customer Reviews

Our Posthuman Future: Consequences of the Biotechnology Revolution

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1 star:		(4)

 

 

I have to admit that I went into this book with great expectations about it from both reviews I had read and the interesting "Our Posthuman Future" title. However, the book was disappointing, and Fukuyama provides no insight that is not readily available in other texts. He attempts with his "Human Nature," "Human Rights," and "Human Dignity" chapters to assert that a system of natural rights is necessary for the future and that such as system concords with reality. However, he fails in his attempt to prove his metaphysic and in the end seems to profess a quasi-religious commitment to a romantic notion of humanity.

He seems to think that the genetic potential is such that we could change our "human nature" and thus threaten our humanness. This is a legitimate fear, but Fukuyama fails to analyze adequately why this is so and what possible implications that might have. He rejects reproductive cloning on the basis that it creates an unnatural family life, but his warrants are not very distinguishable from an adopted child or from a child that looks like their mother or father. His analysis can at times be extremely superficial as if he is just expecting some sort of a confirmation bias since `everyone disagrees with cloning anyway.'

All in all, this is well researched as far as technologies go, but Fukuyama's attempt to establish a philosophical justification for his policy recommendations fails miserably. One of the biggest issues I have with his recommendation is that he calls for "institutions that can discriminate between good and bad use of biotechnology" and for a "regulatory framework to separate legitimate and illegitimate uses." He further elucidates that this means that one must "distinguish between therapy and enhancement." To be fair, Fukuyama does realize that this is an extremely difficult thing to do; but then he just brushes the concern off with some justification that it must be done anyways and that it is possible since doctors and agencies are currently able to determine legitimate therapeutic uses for Ritalin. However, what F.F. fails to realize (which he does assert in other parts, but there is no cross-application here) is that genetic manipulation is much more permanent that psychopharmacology is, and that the potential uses of prescreening and later germ-line engineering extend far beyond the potential that drugs have. The potential in this realm is an eradication of a certain trait deemed a "disorder" or a "health-risk," questionable in its own right but also possibly costly to the future of our societies. It is at least possible that some people's genius lie in their abnormality and thus genetic technology risks a normalizing far more profound than institutional structures could ever provide. Fukuyama only lightly addresses so-called "postmodern" critics like Michel Foucault in regards to the dubiousness of making distinctions between the normal and the pathological. He seems rather poorly read on the subject.... I'm not accusing him of that necessarily, its just that he didn't give such concerns the attention they truly deserve. These are concerns that will have profound implications on the future of society.

In the end, I am left disappointed. The title of the work seemed to me to infer that this would be a much more critical perspective of the implications of biotechnology on social structures, ontology, and knowledge. But instead, the book turns out to be a rather popular-based analysis of technologies and a moderate policy proposal justified by an inadequately discussed moral system of risk to natural right. The most interesting parts of the entire work are the quotes (from Nietzsche and others) at the beginning of certain chapters.

This is a book with many virtues and one fatal flaw. Among the former are a clear, lucid style and an impressive overview of the state of the art in contemporary genetic science and the moral debates that they have provoked. This book is highly recommended to those who are relatively new to these issues and want a superb, layman's introduction.

But the book's central argument is embarrassingly weak. Fukuyama relies on Aristotle to support his central claim that morality ought to be grounded in an essential conception of human nature, the substance of which he sketches in the core chapters of the book. Scientific techniques should be regulated by the state, he argues, so that they do not threaten this nature, and thereby constitute an assault on human dignity.

The flaw here is what 20th Century philosophers have labelled "the naturalistic fallacy": deriving a statement of value from a statement(s) of fact(s). In a word, facts tell us nothing about what is valuable. Fukuyama confronts this objection head-on by denying that the naturalistic fallacy really is a fallacy. (The "naturalistic fallacy fallacy"!) I admire his intellectual gusto in doing so, although he had little choice if he wanted his argument to have some chance of success. But he just isn't a good enough philosopher to pull it off. He doesn't even come remotely close. The fact that many philosophers (eg. Kant, Rawls) who accept that this is a fallacy have made claims about human nature--this is Fukuyama's main counter-argument--may be true, but it simply goes to show that they were inconsistent; it doesn't touch the naturalistic fallacy. That is the (weak) heart of his counter-argument. This isn't a minor problem for Fukuyama. His whole argument pivots on it. One can almost hear the rest of his book come crashing down around mid-way, as he earnestly rides into battle against the naturalistic fallacy armed with the flimsiest of weapons and fails to make even a small dent in it. All of the prescriptive aspects of the book fall with this failure, which makes the book overall a failure. (A disturbing conclusion, when one considers that Fukuyama is on a national committee on bioethics advising the US government!) But the copious descriptive parts of the book are very well executed and impressively well-informed, making it a commendable failure. You will learn a lot about modern science from this book, and nothing about what (ethically) to do about it.

I was very impressed with the depth and scope of Fukuyama's examination of the call to regulate biotechnology and especially with the fairness of his presentation and tone. His subject is a particularly contentious one, and one of enormous importance for all of us since the effect of biotechnology on human beings includes the possibility of not only changing our very nature, but of an actual step-by-step termination of humans as we are now constituted.

Ultimately this is what Professor Fukuyama is worried about and why he argues so strongly for the regulation of the biotech industry regardless of the effect such regulation might have on scientific progress and even at the risk of creating a biotech gap between the United States and other nations actively pursuing such research.

However, I don't think Fukuyama was completely successful in making his case; indeed I am not worried about "us" becoming something else or losing what he refers to as our "human essence."

"And what is that human essence that we might be in danger of losing?" he asks on page 101. "For a religious person, it might have to do with the divine gift or spark that all human beings are born with. From a secular perspective, it would have to do with human nature: the species-typical characteristics shared by all human beings qua human beings. That is ultimately what is at stake in the biotech revolution."

He doesn't define these "species-typical characteristics." Instead he goes on to say that there is "an intimate connection between human nature and human notions of rights, justice, and morality." He then argues the case for basing human rights on human nature, sometimes called the "naturalistic fallacy," thereby putting himself in the hands of those who would know what human nature is. Alas, there is no agreement on that subject, which is why, as Fukuyama notes, the term "natural rights" has been replaced with "human rights whose provenance does not depend on a theory of nature." (p. 101)

On page149 he changes his tack somewhat and argues that the biotechnological revolution is a threat to our sense of "dignity and recognition." He says this "is not economic: what we desire is not money but that other human beings respect us in the way we think we deserve."

Here I would point out that "recognition" and having "dignity" in the eyes of others is adaptive in a Darwinian sense. People that the tribe regard as lacking dignity and recognition get fewer reproductive tries and have a tough time of it socially and economically. Having dignity is like saving face: something we must do to maintain psychological equilibrium and our position in society.

On page 218 he comes around to concluding that "human nature is very plastic... But it is not infinitely malleable, and the elements that remain constant--particularly our species-typical gamut of emotional responses--constitute a safe harbor that allows us to connect, potentially, with all other human beings."

This seems to imply that what he has finally found as our "essence" is our emotional nature. He might be right (heaven help us if he is) but I think our ability to adapt to change and to order our environment to our advantage through our culture and technology is really the essence of what it means to be human.

The curious thing about this book is how really persuasive, reasonable and informative Fukuyama is when he is NOT arguing for the regulation of biotechnology. Here are some interesting observations:

"In the future, virtually everything that the popular imagination envisions genetic engineering accomplishing is much more likely to be accomplished sooner through neuropharmacology." (p. 52)

"There is a disconcerting symmetry between Prozac and Ritalin. The former is prescribed heavily for depressed women lacking in self-esteem; it gives them more of the alpha-male feeling that comes with high serotonin levels. Ritalin, on the other hand, is prescribed largely for young boys who do not want to sit still in class because nature never designed them to behave that way." (pp. 51-52)

"Developed countries" are finding that "the pool of available military manpower" is shrinking as their population ages. "The willingness of people in such societies to tolerate battle casualties among their young may fall as well." He sees a world "divided...between a North whose political tone is set by elderly women, and a South driven by...super-empowered angry young men." (p. 63)

Finally on page 172 he writes, "This protracted discussion of human dignity is intended to answer the following question: What is it that we want to protect from any future advances in biotechnology? The answer is, we want to protect the full range of our complex, evolved natures against attempts at self-modification."

My question is why? Are we so perfectly constituted as to make change undesirable? Our "evolved natures" are just that, something that has evolved and is evolving and will go on evolving. The creature that was "us" five million years ago has changed into the "us" of today. Would it be somehow preferable to have somehow stopped change five million years ago? If not, what makes Fukuyama think that we should attempt that now? He writes from the position of a humanist, but his unstated assumptions are similar to the religious notion that we are somehow the final product of a Creator and therefore not to be tampered with.

Evolution is now proceeding with an enormous rapidity driven not by natural selection but by culture. Our artifacts and our science and yes our biotechnology are part of the culture that is shaping us. We can't escape from that fact, and we cannot deny our nature as creatures that create, even though some of our creations may be dangerous. Being creative is also part of the essence of being human.

This isn't a great book, but it is a sufficiently competent that it deserves to be read by those interested in this topic. The good and the bad of Fukuyama that surfaces in his other books is visible in this one as well.

Specifically he deserves credit for bringing a great range of disciplines to bear on the topic. On the other hand his limited grasp of some of these, compared to more typically narrowly focused academics, is sometimes glaring. In this book his attempt to ground his argument on a natural rights theory is at best a personal perspective that wouldn't stand up to much serious philosophical scrutiny. But, it is also unnecessary, since many reasonable people will agree with the prudence of his conclusions even if they might discard this quixotic and feebly argued rationale. Others may disagree with his conclusions for a variety of plausible reasons yet find this work a good contribution to the debate.

His survey of the issues and current status of the questions is admirable and I appreciate his attempt to bring together many disciplines even if the result is sometimes imperfect.

I guess someone has to play the job of the paranoid futurist and Fukuyama has done a great job of it in the past. Here, he is no better. His aim: the biotech industry. His worry: biotech threatens human dignity. His arguments: (?)

I bought this book after seeing him on a C-SPAN panel discussion and he seemed quite balanced. Myself seeing nothing wrong with biotech (and being puzzled at the 'human dignity' arguments), I am still willing to hear good arguments to counter my own. I thought this would be the book. It was not.

The first section of the book is a rehash of the developments and techinical information needed to make a meaningful discussion of biotech. Here, Fukuyama gains both his stars. He was clear, concise, and he even managed to say in one sentence what I've seen others say in 2 paragraphs, and more comprehensively. Being familliar with a lot of this info from past readings, a lesser writer may have caused me to skip over the chapters. Even though I'd read most of the info before, reading it in Fukuyama's words was exciting.

Then there is the second, decidedly more philosophical section, where the author discusses first, human rights, and second, human dignity. Here, we see that Fukuyama is truly "Aristotle's bulldog". He first makes a(n almost irrelevent) case for natural rights. How does he do it? Surprise, suprise: humans have natures; those natures are (with minor variance) universal: therefore, human rights exist. He tells us that "ought" actually can be derived from "is". But here is the problem. Fukuyama is very selective in what he recognizes as human nature. Many prominent biologists have shown that brutish things like revenge, rape, infanticide, and bluffing (via game theory) are also part of our universal natures. Should we recognize them as rights too? Fukuyama, oddly, is silent. (somme other reviewers have made astute critiques of his "natural rights" proofs). While I think that 'oughts' should be made with 'is's' in mind (judgments should be INFORMED by fact), Fukuyama (and other natural rights theorists) must unavoidably be selective in what parts of our natures to count as 'natural rights' and which not to. These are value judgments and ones based almost unavoidably on PRIOR conceptions of what is desirable. Therefore, "is" to "ought" is not a necessary step, but a highly 'unnatural' moral leap. (Oddly enough, Fukuyama quotes Hume saying exactly this, never quite rebutting him. Hume, it turns out, makes the stronger case!)

From there, we talk about human dignity. I certainly agree with Fukuyama on two points: first, science has had a nasty tendency to (somewhat sadistically) make statements "degrading human dignity". Instead of being the third chimpanzee (an oversimplification to say the least), we are "JUST (read: only or merely) the third chimpanzee. Similarly Richard Dawkins likes to say that we are survival machines BLINDLY programmed by our genes to ensure their, not our, survival. The second area that I agree with Fukuyama is that science has made it appear that since we are made of the same stuff as other animals, that we are really not much different from them. This ignores obvious empirical evidence that even if we have the same emotions as, say, bonobos, we not only have more of them, but we can do such things as supress them, learn about them, modify them (fairly quickly) and be aware of them in a second-order way. Fukuyama, then, is right on these two counts and becuase of both of them, science has appeared to threaten our human dignity.

Where he is not correct is on the conclusions he draws from is: that biotech DOES threaten our dignity. If our natures can be manipulated, he says, then there is really not much special about us at all. My answer: only if that is the way YOU want to think of it, but your conclusion doesn't necessarily follow. After all, we can control diamonds: we can cut them, color them, crush them into powder, chisel them to our specs; but does that make a diamond less valuable to us? No. So if I were to engineer my daughter prior to birth to try and ensure that she is as healthy or has the 'best brain' possible, does that diminish her future high score on the SAT's? I highly doubt she will really think of it as my, and not her own, achievement. Fukuyama also assumes that we will be able to genetically engineer to ensure our children are succesful in life. Hmmm....I thought environmental factors played pretty important roles in ones 'succcess' (whether you've the right business partners, whether consumers like your ideas, whether you are in the right place at the right time with the right people...etc.)

There is a third section that takes his 'arguments' and applies them to public policy debates where his ultimate stance is to put serious regulations on cloning and biotech. I found this section only skim-worthy, as they rely on the faulty argumenets in previous sections.

I generally don't write long reviews, but there are honestly so many fallacies, over-simplifications, and unrealistic speculations in this book (not much of a departure from The End of History)that writing a short one would feel wrong. My suggestion? Read the book, but do so skeptically. A better book explicating the same kind of fears but with better arguments? "Human Cloning and Human Dignity" by The President's Council on Bioethics.

The first half of this book was setting up nicely. Fukuyama was making a reasonable case for mostly what he sees as the philosophical cons of the coming reproductive technologies and the need for the government to set up a new entity for regulating them. He spends a lot of time on philosophical handwringing and ultimately doesn't deliver much except the old it's unnatural and will mess up society. I read Gregory Stock's book, Redesigning Humans, on the same subject and I liked the nuts and bolts explanations of things and the ultimate conclusions more. Fukuyama seems to get a lot of attention for how weak I think his conclusions are.

What is "human nature"? And will failure to initiate widespread government oversight of scientific research that could change this definition open a Pandora's Box of dire consequences?

Fukuyama suggests that failure to impose substantial government dictates over the "when's" and "how's" of future research centering on the human body and mind will precipitate a significant sea change in the inherent nature of our species, how we interact with one another, and a potential threat to Liberal Democracy. The implicit message is that unfettered scientific inquiry will lead to developments we will come to deeply regret.

While Fukuyama correctly illustrates the "easy fixes" that our society has latched onto (Prozac, Ritilin: Who said freedom to choose would mean wise choices?), his thesis fails to acknowledge the considerable roadblocks that authorities have placed in the way of the evolution of our species throughout history.

"Human nature" has, in fact, demonstrated a rather elastic nature over time. If one accepts the premise that human nature is fixed in an eternal quest for freedom, self-development and dignity and is manifested in superior intelligence, then one would want to remove any artificial roadblocks to creating the maximum environment in which these attributes could flourish. How else to explain the demise of almost all competing political models to Liberal Democracy? Yet, Fukuyama proposes a step backward, based on what appears to be a fixed, non-elastic definition of human nature.

Were a caveman to be plopped down in the late 20th Century and witness the first heart transplant, would he recoil in disgust and declare the practice inimical to the basic fabric of human existence? Quite likely. Does that mean, with the limited intelligence of a less developed brain - but with a brain nonetheless and all basic body parts and feelings that "Modern Man" exhibits - that the caveman would be right? I don't believe anyone would answer in the affirmative.

As dispassionate and thoughtful as Fukuyama's work appears on the surface, his call to action would have us expand the yoke of State control at a time when his beloved model of Liberal Democracy is finally expanding across the globe, toppling barriers to the practical application of human intelligence everywhere.

Which, in its own way, is rather ironic.

The biotechnology revolution is upon us, says Francis Fukuyama in his new book "Our Posthuman Future," and we had better begin to deal with the challenging social, political, and economic issues which will be raised by the changes to come.

Fukuyama points out that we are already a society that is widely using and abusing drugs like Prozac and Ritalin to modify behavior and psychological states and we now seem to be all too eager to employ our expanding knowledge of human genetics to influence everything from increasing intelligence to prolonging life. But these may be the least of the problems we face in the future. The author also discusses such controversial issues as eugenics, the prospects for germline enhancement, embryonic stem-cell research, human cloning, and "designer babies." There are sound reasons to put limits on biotechnology and these limits can be and need to be enforced. This is, in my opinion, Fukuyama's main thesis in his book, and with this I wholeheartedly agree.

"Our Posthuman Future" deserves to be read by all those who are concerned about the direction in which biotechnology is going. No, let me go further. This book needs to be read by all thinking human beings. The reason is simple: human beings, or human nature as we have understood it up to now, may be at stake. Fukuyama is no Luddite, neither am I. But the simple fact is this: just because something in science or technology "can" be done, does not mean it "should" be done. When we learn that lesson, maybe the world will be a better place.

...When Fukuyama, in his latest book, published a few months ago, takes to task large segments of the scientifical and bioethical community, we should pay attention, for he is rarely misinformed and never less than cogent in his analyses. The author's main point is that human nature, and the social and political institutions built on it (such as democracy, the rule of law and the capitalist market), is at risk from changes in biotechnology, such as neuropharmacology (drugs capable of altering human behaviour in radical ways), or longevity-enhancement treatments, or genetical manipulation of the unborn. He makes a brave attempt at showing that the concept of human nature is meaningful and even necessary in this debate, and that it must not be grounded in religion necessarily. His criticism of the disregard for human nature often exhibited by scientists (even in this day and age) is chilling, and goes a long way in convincing the reader that a short leash is in order when human dignity and human rights are at stake. He shows very clearly that the main risk from genetic manipulation does not come from eugenistic states intent on eliminating the inferior- as in Hitler's Germany-, but from the law of unintended consequences (which in economics is termed social externalities). There is just no way of knowing the impact that genetic manipulation will have, especially if left in the hands of ambitious parents desirous of giving their offspring an early start in life's struggle. A probable consequence is the rise of real, biologically-grounded aristocracies, who in fairness should be accepted as a perpetual ruling class. Plato's chilling description of a perfect state, in which superior minds and bodies govern the vast majority of untermenschen, neither mixing nor pitying them, could actually come into existence. While this is probably the part of the book that will generate the biggest reaction, Fukuyama's arguments about the impacts of legal drugs to alter human behaviour are not amiss either. His main point is that current society dislikes gender-specific behaviours, and therefore attempts to use drugs to generate an androgynous conformity. He refers to how Prozac is used to nudge depressed women into more self-assertive (male-like) attitudes, whereas Ritalin is used to appease hyperactive young boys into sedate compliance. His many quotes of scientists and social commentators indicate the degree to which nature is spurned by intelligent people who believe that it is, or should be, within their power, to remake human nature and the world we live in. Stanford's Paul Erlich, always good for a laugh (he was priceless in the pompous-yet-totally-mistaken-windbag role in Lomborg's "Skeptical Environmentalist") shows yet again that common sense is quite uncommon in academia. Given the risks on the one hand and on the other the total lack of insight that most scientists show in this regard, regulation is indispensable, and Fukuyama shows the way. He is right to argue that, contrary to what some people think, or would have us think, regulation does work to a large extent. And he is right that prohibition of certain types of research, such human cloning, should be the starting point and litmus test. This book is a must read for laymen who would like to make sense of the contradictory messages they receive on this subject, and of course by policy-setters, scientists, philosophers and social commentators. Besides being interesting and clear, the book is also very well written, so that the reader must not struggle with the writing to get at the heart of the point, and the length is also just right. In the hands of someone else, this might have become a 500 page tome, rambling its way through anecdotes and repetition. That's not the case. The book's 220 pages (plus notes and bibliography), and fighting fit.

While containing some interesting remarks, Fukuyama's book does not present a good argument to support his main thesis -namely, that human nature is a source of normativity. I will quote a couple of passages of his book to illustrate what I mean. In page 234 (note 34), the author says:

`Peter Singer [...] makes a bizarre argument that the case for equality is a moral idea in no way dependent on factual assertions about the actual equality of the beings involved. He argues, "There is no logically compelling reason for assuming that a factual difference in ability between two people justifies any difference in the amount of consideration we give to their needs and interests...". This is plainly untrue: because children have undeveloped intellects and inadequate life experiences, we do not grant them the same freedom and regard as adults.'

Far for being "plainly true", Singer's putatively "bizarre argument" is philosophically impeccable. If we don't grant children the same freedom as adults, it is not because we give them unequal consideration, but because we recognize that they don't have the capacity to realize what is conductive to the satisfaction of their own interests, and because -for evolutionary reasons- it is expected that their parents and/or relatives will take those interests into account. In spite of Singer's having explicitly and lucidly clarified his point in many of his writings, and having distinguished between equal CONSIDERATION and equal TREATMENT, Fukuyama makes an accusation that only serves to undermine his credibility. Yet, as if this were not enough, the author goes on:

`Elsewhere [Singer] says that "the basic element -the taking into account of the interests of the being, whatever those interest may be-must, according to the principle of equality, be extended to all beings, black or white, masculine of feminine, human or nonhuman". Singer does not explicitly take up the question of whether we need to respect the interests of beings like flies and mosquitoes, much less viruses and bacteria. He may regard these as trivial examples, but they are not: the nature of rights depends on the nature of the species involved.'

Living aside the spurious accusation of Singer's not having explicitly taken up "the question of whether we need to respect the interests of beings like flies and mosquitoes" (a question which the Australian ethicists takes up in the `All Animals are Equal' chapter of Animal Liberation, and which is solved by simply recognizing that the interests of a being must be taken into consideration when, and only when, it is possible to talk meaningfully about interests at all), let's briefly comment on Fukuyama's assertion that "the nature of rights depends on the nature of the species involved".

Here we come to the proposition which serves as the keystone of his book. Unfortunately, it is based on a confusion; once spotted, the whole edifice tumbles down. The confusion is this: that either factual statements are completely irrelevant to ethics, or they can serve to derive normative propositions. This is a FALSE DILEMMA. Factual statements are neither irrelevant to morality, nor do they allow the derivation of `ought' from `is'. The link between ethics and science must be understood in terms of the kantian maxim that "ought implies can". As soon as we recognize this, we see that factual statements are relevant insofar they allow us to determine what can be legitimately demanded by morals. If I can either save a child from drowning or go to school, I cannot be blamed when, by saving the child, I do not go to my daily lesson. At the same time, factual statements don't tell us what to do: I can ether save the child, or go to school; but these facts alone do not give me advice on what to do.

Paradoxically, Singer is one of the authors that have most forcefully defended this point. The Left, he says in his book `A Darwinian Left', has failed to take into account human nature. Misguided by the Marxist idea that the only natural constraints were those imposed by productive forces, socialist thinkers thought that anything was possible provided that Capitalism was overcome. They didn't realize that there are universal facts about humanity that are not part of an epiphenomenal "superstructure" dependant on a particular mode of production, but just the result of their genetic nature. After Darwin, therefore, the Left should become more darwinian.

To readers of `Our posthuman future', this will sound very familiar. It very much resembles, in fact, the way Fukuyama defends his invocation of human nature in chapter 8 of his book. But this is not sufficient to make his point. To repeat: by saying that nature is not irrelevant to ethics one cannot prove that ethics can be partially or totally derived from nature.

In sum, then, the book relies heavily on an argument which, when put in perspective, only gives support to a much more modest claim than the one Fukuyama uses to defend his conservative views on biotechnology. It is true that one should consider what human beings typically are, and how they typically behave if one is interested in assailing the ethical problems posed by the technological uses of biological science. To say that we should use that nature to guide us and to give us ethical values, however, goes far beyond what is supported by logic and consequently vitiates the author's subsequent normative appeals to human nature.