Benjamin Geer on Sun, 19 Jan 2003 22:35:18 +0100 (CET) |
[Date Prev] [Date Next] [Thread Prev] [Thread Next] [Date Index] [Thread Index]
Re: <nettime> frazzled bio art digest [thacker, crowley] |
On Fri, 17 Jan 2003 13:45:37 -0500, Eugene Thacker wrote: > bioart often eschews ethical > considerations in favor of technical ones. Anyone will admit > that learning how to work the automatic sequencing machine > is cool, but it is worthwhile to reflect on it a little. The > old question *can I do this* versus *should I do > this* is worth reconsidering in the context of bioart > practices as art practices. I would like to ask, first, why biotech (like bioart) sometimes seems to 'eschew ethical considerations', and second, why many people react with horror and revulsion to some of what is being done in the field of genetic engineering (and subsequently appropriated by artists). In 'On Violence' (http://attac.org.uk/attac/html/view-document.vm?documentID=148), Shierry Nicholsen identifies 'groupthink' as a mechanism that inhibits ethical reflection. She quotes the scientist Robert Wilson, who was involved in developing the atomic bomb at Los Alamos, and who said afterwards: I would like to think now, that at the time of the German defeat, I would have stopped and taken stock, and thought it all over very carefully, and that I would have walked a way from Los Alamos at that time. In terms of everything I believed in before and during and after the war, I cannot understand why I did not take that act. On the other hand, I do not know of a single instance of anyone who made that suggestion or who did leave at that time.... Our life was directed to do one thing. It was as though we had been programmed to do that and as automatons were doing it. Perhaps a similar type of groupthink is at work today among the scientists and artists whose unbounded enthusiasm for biotech brushes aside all ethical considerations. Eugene Thacker writes: > too often, in the public discourse on > biotech, political critique slides into moral conservatism. Thacker argues that this conservatism is based on an idea of 'something mysterious called "nature"'. I think there's a simpler explanation. Take the case of the 'humouse' (http://amsterdam.nettime.org/Lists-Archives/nettime-l-0206/msg00010.html), an imaginary genetically-engineered part-human, part-mouse creature. Should we be shocked by this idea, even though we aren't shocked by traditional hybrid oranges? If so, why? I'm sure that there are some people out there (let's call them the 'biopunks') for whom the 'humouse' would represent the dawning of new Golden Age. Even if we feel that the 'humouse' in an abhorrent prospect, I suspect that most of us don't believe we have a rock-solid ethical system covering these issues, which would enable us to argue decisively against the biopunks. At the same time, we're pretty sure that they don't have such a system, either. Our moral conservatism could therefore be seen as a sort of ethical 'precautionary principle': don't do something if you have no way of evaluating the potential consequences. At the same time, I think it's likely that our revulsion stems from a specific ethical position. Inasmuch as the hypothetical 'humouse' involves humanity, we might see it as a violation of Kant's Formula of Humanity, which enjoins us to treat each person always as an end, and never merely as a means. It is useful to compare our discomfort regarding the 'humouse' with our feelings about slavery. A slave is treated merely as a means, but at least the slave can hope to escape slavery. The 'humouse' would seem condemned from birth, *by its very nature*, to be only a means. This is perhaps why the creation of such a creature seems even more ghastly than slavery. However, if that's the case, what accounts for our queasiness about genetic engineering involving only non-human animals? Why shouldn't a bio-artist create, say, a 'guitar-monkey', a four-legged, living musical instrument, to be played and exhibited in art galleries? As Erica Fudge points out in her book _Animal_, on the one hand, in certain contexts, we treat animals as ends (e.g. by considering pets to be almost like members of the family), while in other contexts, we treat them as means (as food, or as subjects of scientific experiments). Culture (one might say 'groupthink') has desensitised us to our use of animals as tools in certain contexts, but not in others. When we encounter instrumentalisation of animals in a new context, we are unprepared. We are shocked, not only because the geneticist's experiment strikes us as horrible, but because it forces us to confront the uncomfortable contradictions in our existing, age-old treatment of animals. Benjamin # distributed via <nettime>: no commercial use without permission # <nettime> is a moderated mailing list for net criticism, # collaborative text filtering and cultural politics of the nets # more info: majordomo@bbs.thing.net and "info nettime-l" in the msg body # archive: http://www.nettime.org contact: nettime@bbs.thing.net