Playing God? Genetic Determinism and Human Freedom by Ted
Peters, Routledge, $59.95, ISBN 0 41 591521 X
IN THE summer of 1993, gene researcher Dean Hammer and his team at the US
National Cancer Institute announced they had evidence linking male homosexuality
to a region on the X-chromosome. American gay rights groups greeted the news
with jubilation, and the press exploded in a frenzy of optimistic articles. Even
strait-laced Time magazine declared: 鈥淚f homosexuals are deemed to have
a foreordained nature, many arguments now used to block equal rights would lose
蹿辞谤肠别.鈥
Nowhere more so, homosexual advocates hoped, than with the conservative
Christian right. If gayness was written in the body, they reasoned, it must be
seen as part of God鈥檚 plan, and hence could not be considered a sin. But in an
insightful book, Playing God, theologian Ted Peters analyses this and
other genetic discoveries and reveals that the theological implications are
considerably more complex. Far from advancing gay rights, Peters shows, genetic
essentialism might just as easily be used by religious believers against them.
And he warns advocates of gay rights that they have reason to be concerned about
the sociobiological trends now surfacing so vigorously in scientific
circles.
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The intersection of science and theology has, of course, leapt to the fore
with the announcement of the cloning of a female sheep. What if we could also
clone humans? What would be their status before God? And what would be our own
attitude to them? Given that the Vatican rejects all reproductive technology, it
is likely to take a hard line against cloning, but in The New York
Times, Peters has already argued that an instant knee-jerk negativism is
not the only legitimate theological response. Anyone who thinks they have
Christianity鈥檚 attitude to science sussed is likely to be in for a few shocks
when reading this book.
As professor of systematic theology at the Pacific Lutheran Theological
Seminary, part of the Graduate Theological Union in Berkeley, California, Peters
is in a unique position to bring some clarity to a discourse fraught with
rancour and misunderstanding on both sides. He recently chaired a three-year
study on the theological implications of the new gene science, with a special
focus on the Human Genome Project.
It is not Peters鈥檚 intention in Playing God? to argue either for or
against homosexuality, or any other trait; rather he is concerned to explore in
detail just how the new gene science intersects with theological questions. To
that end, his has written in a way that will be accessible to proponents of
science and religious believers alike. Technical jargon鈥攕cientific and
theological鈥攊s kept to a minimum, and the two sides are given equal
weight.
Peters begins by examining the gene myth and considering just what is meant
when people talk about 鈥減laying God鈥. Here he makes a helpful distinction
between two independent schools of thought in contemporary gene mythology. The
first, 鈥減uppet determinism鈥, is the idea espoused by Richard Dawkins and other
strong advocates of sociobiology, that we are simply puppets of our
genes鈥攎olecularly programmed machines doomed by an inexorable determinism
to play out the roles coded in our DNA. The second aspect of the gene myth turns
this picture on its head by saying that if genes determine us, then ultimately
we can determine ourselves by taking control of our genetic makeup through
powerful new technologies now being devised. Peters calls this 鈥減romethean
诲别迟别谤尘颈苍颈蝉尘鈥.
Both puppet and promethean determinism play into long-standing Christian
themes. Contrary to the notion that genetics poses unprecedented problems for
theology, I was surprised by how many of the contemporary issues have ancient
religious roots. Notably, Peters draws a parallel between the new determinism
and the old Augustinian idea of original sin. 鈥淥ne way the concept of original
sin is understood,鈥 he explains, 鈥渋s as inherited sin, as an inherited
orientation towards evil.鈥 As the Formula of Concord put it in 1580, all humans,
by virtue of our descent from Adam and Eve inherit 鈥渁n inborn wicked stamp, an
interior uncleanliness of the heart and evil desires and inclinations鈥. But is
not an 鈥渋nborn wicked stamp鈥 precisely what Dawkins proposes when he insists on
the overriding dominance of 鈥渟elfish genes鈥? And there are more than a few
echoes of original sin in the idea that alcoholism and violence are encoded in
our DNA.
But if Augustine said that sin was, in some sense, written in the body,
Christianity is also founded on the belief that each of us has a genuine free
will through which we can choose to sin or not. For Christians there is always a
moral responsibility to use the will to fight the weaknesses of the body. Here
we come back to the gay gene, for if homosexuality is written in the body, as
genetic determinists have it, then theologically it becomes no different from
any other supposed sin of the flesh. Religious conservatives, Peters notes,
could easily argue that such an individual has a moral duty to fight this
鈥渨别补办苍别蝉蝉鈥.
Moreover, if we come to believe in a gay gene, religious conservatives might
well take the stance that the appropriate social response would be 鈥渃ure鈥 by
excision鈥攋ust as it would be say, for a gene for violence. As with a
tumour, there would be a moral obligation to cut it out.
Peters also examines the theological and ethical implications of reputed
genetic predispositions for violence, alcoholism and intelligence. On the
ethical side, most of this discussion can be found in any good bioethics text.
It is the theological discussions, the real heart of the book, that are fresh
and surprising.
In pointed opposition to Jeremy Rifkin鈥檚 much publicised effort to mobilise
religious reaction against genetic engineering, Peters argues that humans have a
moral obligation to use this technology to eliminate disease-causing genes and
thereby alleviate suffering. In the theological tradition of creatio
continua, he puts forward the view that the act of creation is ongoing, and
that through genetic engineering we can conceive of ourselves as the 鈥渃reated
co-creator鈥, actively contributing to our own evolution and betterment.
Peters is far from being a genetic determinist鈥攈e insists on the
reality of a genuinely free will鈥攂ut he is a promethean as far as disease
is concerned. Genetic engineering is not usurping God鈥檚 role, he says, for this
equation wrongly implies 鈥渢hat God and human beings are in competition over a
finite amount of power鈥. DNA should not be regarded as a battleground between
the secular and the divine. Rather than playing God, Peters believes gene
science can help us to 鈥減lay human鈥 as humans are imago dei, the image
of God. By understanding ourselves as created co-creators, he writes, we can
鈥減ress our scientific and technological creativity into the service of neighbor
love鈥. Thus, 鈥渢o seek a better future is to `play human鈥 as God intends us
迟辞鈥.
If this book has a weakness it is that Peters fails to address in sufficient
depth the degree to which gene science, even when motivated by idealism, might
still turn sour. The spectre of Dr Moreau hangs above our gene dreaming, and
religious zeal too can easily be perverted. In his enthusiasm to defend genetics
from religious conservatives, Peters seems at times a little naive about the
potential dangers in science itself.
By exploring the theological complexities of emerging biotechnologies,
Playing God? makes an important and thought-provoking contribution to the
debate about genetics. Above all, it demonstrates that scientific facts are open
to multiple theological interpretations. Creationism is only one end of the
spectrum of relations between science and religion. Peters shows us the opposite
end, a theology that embraces gene science.