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Abstract
In ‘Parental Genetic Shaping and Parental Environmental Shaping’, Anca Gheaus argues there is a normative difference between parents using genetic means to influence the development of their child, and parents using environmental means to achieve the same ends. Genetic shaping but not environmental shaping, it is claimed, introduces a negative asymmetry in the child–caregiver relationship. In this paper, we argue that Gheaus’ argument fails as a critique of genetic shaping, and does not establish a moral difference between genetic and environmental shaping. Contrary to Gheaus’ arguments in both ‘Parental Genetic Shaping and Parental Environmental Shaping’ and ‘Parental Enhancement and Symmetry of Power in the Parent–Child Relationship’, we also argue that even if genetic or prebirth shaping introduces further inequality in the parent–child relationship, this is not necessarily a bad thing, and it is not clear how a parent refraining from taking up the availability of such technology leaves the child better off.
- Child
- Enhancement
- Selection- Genetic
- Biomedical Enhancement
- Genetic Enhancement
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Data sharing not applicable as no datasets generated and/or analysed for this study.
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Introduction
Anca Gheaus’ article ‘Parental Genetic Shaping and Parental Environmental Shaping’ (PGSPES), provides a novel critique of a principle first introduced by Nicolas Agar, that ‘if we are permitted to produce certain traits by modifying our children’s environments then we are also permitted to produce them by modifying their genomes’1 (p113). Gheaus argues there is a moral difference between parents using genetic means to influence the traits of their children and parents using environmental means for the same ends. Genetic shaping but not environmental shaping introduces a negative asymmetry in the child–caregiver relationship. This makes genetic shaping morally worse than environmental shaping. PGSPES is significant as it articulates and refines a common objection against reproductive genetic technologies—that they harm child–parental relationships.
Despite its merits, we argue that PGSPES fails as a critique of genetic shaping in general, and of Agar’s principle in particular. In part 2, we outline Gheaus’ ‘argument from fair relationships’. In part 3, we provide a response to and critique parts of the argument—namely, its presentation of genetic and environmental shaping, the attempt to minimise inequalities in the parent–child relationship, and the portrayal of the parent–child relationship as a zero-sum game.
Argument from fair relationships
The well-being of children created through enhancement technologies is often seen as the primary ethical consideration. Gheaus argues that this focus is too narrow. To show why, she introduces a novel distinction between actions taken by a ‘mere procreator’, and actions taken by a ‘procreator-and-future childrearer’. A procreator intends to bring a child into existence and not raise it, whereas a procreator-and-future childrearer intends to raise a child they bring into existence. As procreator’s-and-future childrearer’s (who we can now refer to simply as ‘parents’) intend to create a new social relationship in addition to a new child, their actions must be evaluated through reference to the relationship that they create with that child, and not merely the child’s well-being.
With this distinction in mind, Gheas considers genetic and environmental shaping of children by their parents. Environmental shaping is defined as ‘controlling the environmental conditions in which […] children were brought up’2 (p264). Genetic shaping is defined as ‘genetically engineering yet-unborn children’2 (p264). Gheaus distinguishes two forms of genetic shaping:
parents can either choose to implant an embryo on the basis of its genetic characteristics—call this ‘selection’—or they can genetically enhance an embryo with the help of technology—call this ‘enhancement’2 (p264)
‘Selection’ as Gheas defines it, corresponds to an established technology ‘preimplantation genetic diagnosis’ (PGD). PGD has been used to avoid genetic diseases through selective implantation for over three decades. Gheaus’ description of ‘enhancement’, however, is problematic, as its definition contains the word ‘enhance’—which is not defined. There are many ways in which we can understand the word ‘enhance’ and thus different ways to understand this conception of enhancement.3 However, given the comparison with selection, the most straightforward way is corresponding to something like ‘genetic engineering’; directly altering the genetic sequences of our children through technologies like gene editing. However, we should note that many forms of genetic engineering are often not considered as forms of ‘enhancement’ given the standard way that term is defined. For example, using gene-editing to remove disease-causing variants from an embryo is often described as a therapeutic application.4
After defining environmental and genetic shaping, Gheaus argues that Agar’s principle (that there is no moral difference between genetic and environmental shaping) fails for a particular subset of traits, those which are ‘medically unnecessary’ and ‘morally neutral’. While neither of these categories is precisely defined, their extension includes ‘sex, height, hair and eye colour, other elements of physical appearances, personality (eg, extroversion), abilities (eg, musical ability) and intelligence’2 (p266).1 (Presumably Gheaus would exclude personality traits such as selfishness and narcissism, and abilities such as the ability to feel empathy and control one’s impulses, as these traits and abilities clearly have moral valence.)
For traits such as the above, Gheaus argues that genetic shaping is more objectionable than environmental shaping because it exacerbates an asymmetry in the parent–child relationship. Gheaus notes that the parent–child relationship is already marked by striking unfairness. Unlike relationships between adults, children cannot choose whether to enter the parent–child relationship in the first place. Furthermore, children cannot freely exit the relationship without very high costs. Parents, on the other hand, often choose whether to enter the parent–child relationship, and in some cases, will be able to exit without prohibitive costs. The parent–child relationship is marked by inequality and unfairness.
However, some aspects of the parent–child relationship are symmetrical. Just as children cannot choose the traits of their parents, parents cannot choose the traits of their children. This symmetry has moral value, Gheaus contends, as it partly compensates for the other asymmetry present in the parent–child relationship. For Gheaus, such considerations show that there is a morally relevant difference between genetic and environmental shaping. The former uniquely disrupts a morally important symmetry between parent and child. This ostensibly provides a novel, plausible objection to Agar’s principle.
Responses to the argument from fair relationships
Genetic shaping is distinct from prebirth shaping
Gheaus’ paper titled ‘Parental Genetic Shaping and Parental Environmental Shaping’ takes aim at Agar’s claim of equivalency between genetic and environmental forces. However, the argument from fair relationships does not outline a categorical difference between genetic and environmental interventions, but rather interventions that take place before the child–caregiver relationship is formed, and interventions that occur after it is formed.
Although it is not specified by Gheaus when precisely the parent–child relationship starts, the descriptions of environmental and genetic shaping imply that it is around birth. Environmental shaping is described as interventions that ‘intentionally shape the minds and bodies of their children after birth’2 (emphasis in original, p264) and this is contrasted with the possibility that ‘parents can achieve a similar end by genetically engineering their yet-unborn children’2 (emphasis added, p264). This picture of when a child–caregiver relationship starts gains support from metaphysical views that hold an embryo/fetus is part of the woman until this point.5
However, it is possible to shape children by non-genetic means before birth, and by genetic means after birth. A plethora of evidence suggests that the ‘in-utero environment’ plays a key role in childhood development (eg, the diet one’s mother eats while pregnant has been linked to one’s weight as an adult, as well as their disease predisposition).6 Many parents try to benefit their children through manipulating the in-utero environment, for example by taking prenatal supplements. According to the argument from fair relationships, some instances of taking prenatal supplements will fall into the same morally problematic category as genetic engineering. Let us suppose that, as some studies indicate,7 taking omega-3 supplements while pregnant increase the expected cognitive capacities of the developing embryos, including within the normal range. Then, by the argument from fair relationships, as fish oil supplements are taken before entry into the relationship (birth), it is more morally objectionable than feeding an infant a diet rich with omega-3 once born to achieve the same ends. Given the widespread use of prenatal supplements, as well as other environmental interventions aimed at shaping children prebirth,2 this is a much more practically significant implication of the argument from fair relationships than possible future uses of genomic technologies.
Furthermore, it is (or soon will be) possible to use genomic interventions after birth to influence a child’s development. ‘Gene-therapy’ refers to a range of clinical interventions that use genetic engineering to treat disease. In the future, we can imagine scenarios where these technologies could be used for non-therapeutic purposes, such as using targeted gene therapy to increase muscle endurance and energy. If a parent used this technology to increase the sporting prowess of their child, this would seem a clear case of genetic shaping—instilling a medically unnecessary, morally neutral, feature in a child via modifying their genomes. However, such interventions escape the PGSPES definition of genetic shaping as they occur after birth, and as such occur within an established parent–child relationship.
Even if we stipulate that the child–caregiver relationship starts earlier than birth, the argument from fair relationships does not imply a categorical difference between genetic and environmental shaping. No matter what point the relationship is stipulated to begin, it will apply equally to both genetic and environmental interventions on either side of the boundary. For example, say we stipulate that the child–caregiver bond starts at implantation. Then the argument from fair relationships would equally find fault with genetic engineering before implantation, and pre-implantation environmental interventions (such as taking pre-pregnancy supplements to improve future child health outcomes).
Crucially then, even if the arguments in PGSPEG succeed, they will not establish, as Gheaus intends, the ‘existence of a normative difference between parental environmental and parental genetic shaping’, when these terms are understood not as mere proxies for influences that occur before and after the child–caregiver bond has formed. As Agar’s principle specifically refers to the manipulation of ‘genomes’, it is not undermined by the demonstrating that pre-relationship shaping is more problematic than post-relationship shaping.
The argument from fair relationships does show that one strategy for arguing in favour of genetic enhancement is invalid. Namely, we cannot simply infer from the fact that certain postbirth forms of environmental shaping are morally permissible (like music lessons), that genetic enhancement aimed at the same traits will be permissible (like selecting for genes associated with musical ability). This has been named the ‘argument from precedent’ by Parens.8 As music lessons occur after birth, and selection for musical genes occurs before birth, it is wrong to infer the permissibility of the latter from the permissibility of the former.
This implies, though, that to test the claim of moral equivalency between genetic and environmental shaping, we need a different comparison. To demonstrate an intrinsic moral difference between changing genomes and changing environments, one would need a case where the mere fact that a form of shaping was genetic or environmental made a moral difference. It will not do to show that one instance of genetic shaping is morally different to an instance of environmental shaping, if there are other moral differences between the cases. As the argument for fair relationships provides reasons to consider whether something happened before or after birth as a morally relevant difference, to test claims of equivalency we must compare prebirth genetic shaping with prebirth environmental shaping, and postbirth genetic shaping with postbirth environmental shaping.
In sum, the argument from fair relationships does not threaten claims of equivalency between genetic and environmental shaping, but rather provides a related moral factor which we need to control for when comparing genetic and environmental parenting practices.
Minimising inequalities
Even though the argument from fair relationships does not imply that genetic shaping is more morally problematic than environmental shaping, it is worth examining its claims more closely. Why think prebirth interventions are a greater threat to child–parental relations than postbirth ones? Gheaus appeals to the idea that relationships should not display easily avoidable inequalities:
But inequalities between parents and children are legitimate only as long as they are unavoidable, or avoidable only at very high moral costs, or necessary for satisfying children’s rights and other important interests.2 (p276)
The relevant inequality here is the parent’s ability to shape their child, and child’s lack of ability to reciprocate by shaping the parent.
Unlike genetic shaping, environmental shaping happens in a context in which the child can already—albeit to a lesser extent than the parent—shape the other individual in the relationship. Genetic shaping allows parents to influence children even before children have any power to shape parents—either intentionally or unintentionally—and to react to their attempts at shaping. It introduces, in the history of the relationship, a phase when the child had no possibility to shape the parent either intentionally or unintentionally.2 (p278)
It is an idea that Gheaus also articulates in ‘Parental Enhancement and Symmetry of Power in the Parent–Child Relationship’.9 There, she argues that parents should strive for an egalitarian relationship with their children as much as possible and that enhancement should be avoided because it introduces an ‘inequality of voluntariness’ which threatens that ideal.
But if we assume that asymmetry in influence between parent and child is the relevant moral factor, we should be much more concerned about postbirth, rather than prebirth shaping. Early childhood is a time when caregivers can exert the utmost influence over their progeny, and children are at their most impressionable. Consider the following means we could employ to shape a child:
Insisting your child play a particular instrument for hours each week.
Raising your children to have specific social views (eg, left wing or right wing views), including by altering what information is accessible to them.
Raising children in environments which encourage the development of certain gendered ways of thinking, rather than a ‘gender-free’ way which does not segregate the toys, clothes, activities and opportunities that a child has access to according to the child’s sex.
Each of these activities shapes children in ways that are medically unnecessary, and not required for them to live up to the demands of morality. Furthermore, these practices can cause the development of very specific features—such the acquisition of specific skills and beliefs. Such shaping is far more precise than anything that is currently, or foreseeably, possible with prebirth shaping. While it may, 1 day, be possible to use genetic technologies to select for genes which predispose children to high musical ability, this will not force them to acquire any specific skills during their lifetime. In contrast, by controlling a child’s postbirth environment, we can influence which instruments they play, as well as the way they speak to people, and the values they have. This is a much more powerful form of shaping than anything that occurs prebirth; and that parents have this ability is evidence of a great asymmetry in the parent child relationship.
Gheaus might reply that these interventions are still better than genetic means because, as she puts it, the children have ‘at least a chance to be heard’2 (p278). Yet this ability confers no advantage on the child if the parent is deaf to their child’s voice. For example, we can imagine a father who uses various tactics, even bullying, to try to ‘toughen up’ his son, causing the son much suffering. That the son has the opportunity to protest his treatment can make no difference if his parents ignore his voice. While it would be better by far for the father to simply accept his child’s character since not being an ‘alpha male’ is no moral flaw, trying to ‘environmentally engineer’ his son to be something he is not seems more morally objectionable than using prebirth techniques to increase the likelihood of having a ‘tough’ son.
If we are guided by a concern for minimising inequalities, then it is not clear that prebirth shaping is worse than postbirth shaping. Furthermore, it is not clear that equality is a useful lens to assess the moral value of parent–child relationship at all. While there are no doubt many relationships (such as that between spouses) where equality is important when assessing their value, it is not clear that equality is relevant to all relationships. Consider the employee–employer relationship. In most instances employers can choose (certain) characterises of their employees, but not vice versa. Does this inequality on entry reduce the value of employee–employer relationships? It seems a plausible position to hold that it does not. Although some extremes of inequality may be incompatible with good employee–employer relationships; it is not clear that every employee–employer relationship is improved by making it more equal. Rather, what makes for a good employee–employer better or worse is, in each instance, a combination of moral virtues, such as trust, transparency and mutual flourishing.
False zero-sum game
Gheaus contends that ‘the first feature of the parent–child relationship—its non-voluntariness with respect to who is one’s child or parent—has moral value because it mitigates, to some degree, the child’s complete lack of choice concerning both entrance into and exit from the relationship with their parents’2 (p275). However, the reasoning underlying this claim is unclear. It is not that the parent having more choice in the matter results in the child having less choice. The former has no bearing on the latter. To illustrate her point, Gheaus invokes an analogy to arranged marriages, saying it is preferable to have an arranged marriage in which neither the bride nor the groom can choose their partner than a situation in which the groom can choose among a selection of brides but the bride cannot choose. Gheaus contends the first case is preferable because ‘it honours, to a large extent, spouses’ moral equality to each other’2 (p275). First, as we argued above, parents and children have no possibility of achieving equality and it is not clear they should aim for it. Second, while the first case may be fairer, the women themselves are no better off as they still lack choice in either scenario. One might object to this point on the grounds that even if the unfairness does not harm the women, it might still be impersonally bad; or that it is bad for one to be the victim of an unfairness. Nevertheless, if we were to focus on the material gain/loss for the woman, the point still stands. There might be some sense in which the bride could be worse off psychologically due to feeling a sense of unfairness that the groom was the one who was allowed to choose whereas they did not. Yet conversely, the bride could be psychologically better off from the knowledge that the groom chose them from among all the other potential brides he could have chosen. In any case, neither of those psychological scenarios would apply to the parent–child case because the child knows that they cannot possibly choose their parent (or their parent’s characteristics). In other words, in the parent–child case it is not that a choice has been deliberately given to one party and not the other, as is the case in the bride-groom analogy, and the child would know this. Hence, the unfairness (and any resulting psychological harm or benefit) that is present in the bride-groom analogy would not be present in the parent–child case.
The parent–child relationship is patently asymmetrical anyway, but Gheaus wants to focus on the choice aspect—that parents and children cannot choose each other. Gheaus states that ‘Selection or enhancement threatens the symmetry that exists in [the lack of choice] in the relationship between child and parent’2 (p275). Yet the fact that the choice is available to one party and not the other has already introduced an asymmetry regardless of whether the parent acts on it or not. In other words, the mere availability of the technology means that parents have the ability to choose their children, or characteristics of them, whereas children cannot do the same for their parents, and this possibility is itself an asymmetry. (Although children can influence their parents’ characters in other ways once they are born.) In contrast, the primary element of unfairness in the arranged marriage scenario is that it is possible to have given either or both parties the chance to choose their partner, but the choice was only given to one. With a parent and their child, it is simply not possible for the child to choose, so unlike the arranged marriage case, it is not even possible to offer them the choice. How plausible is it for a child to be resentful of a parent exercising a choice when it is made available, unless it becomes possible for a child to have a choice and they were denied it? Moreover, if the parent has a chance to shape their child but does not use it, it does not have any bearing on the child’s ability to shape the parent. A parent exercising a choice does not mean the child has less choice nor does it render the child worse off. Of course, as with the arranged marriage example discussed earlier, one might say that even if the child is not harmed, the fact that a parent can exercise a choice but the child cannot might be impersonally bad; or that it is bad for one to be the victim of an unfairness. Nevertheless, there is no material harm/loss for the child in such a scenario.
Conclusion
Rapid advances in genomics and reproductive technologies mean once merely theoretical philosophical arguments now have direct practical relevance. The prospect of genetic engineering makes many uncomfortable and several authors have presented arguments for why we may wish to prevent parents from being able to genetically shape their children but allow them to continue to shape them via environmental means. Gheaus’ specific objection to genetic shaping is that it introduces further inequality in the parent–child relationship, and this is something that should be avoided. In our paper, we first argued that although presented as genetic versus environmental shaping, the distinction made in PGSPES is in fact between prebirth and postbirth shaping—a distinction which presents some significant problems for current, not just future, practices. Finally, we argued, contra Gheaus in her two articles, that even if genetic or prebirth shaping introduces further inequality in the parent–child relationship, this is not necessarily a bad thing, and it is not clear how a parent refraining from taking up the availability of such technology leaves the child better off.
Data availability statement
Data sharing not applicable as no datasets generated and/or analysed for this study.
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Footnotes
X @BrowneKayali
Contributors Both authors have contributed to the argument and the writing of this paper. CG as guarantor.
Funding The authors have not declared a specific grant for this research from any funding agency in the public, commercial or not-for-profit sectors.
Competing interests None declared.
Provenance and peer review Not commissioned; externally peer reviewed.
↵Note, however, that what traits are considered morally neutral is up for debate, especially in the case of intelligence. See Pavarini et al. 10
↵Via devices like the ‘Babyplus Prenatal Education System’, https://www.amazon.com.au/8200-Babyplus-Prenatal-Education-System/dp/B00140KS9I (accessed 15 June 2020).