Author: Alana Redden

Good afternoon. My name is Maria Stefford with the Interfaith Council on Reproductive Technology. With a doctorate degree in Bioethics and a Masters of Divinity, I am in a special position to testify in front of you all today on the issue of cloning. The topic of cloning may elicit what esteemed bioethics professor Arthur Caplan has been known to call the ‘yuck factor’ — a visceral reaction to such seemingly unnatural technology (Prainsack 175). However, as the chairman of the 1997 Presidential Council on Bioethics once admited, “revulsion is not an argument” (175). I ask that you take this opportunity to stay open-minded and consider my reasoning intellectually, and not emotionally. I will offer two different theological and religious perspectives in favor of continuing funding for the government regulated human cloning research program. Before we begin, I find it necessary to outline the science behind cloning.

Each human brought into this world possesses a genetic code comprised of nucleic and mitochondrial DNA. In traditional conception, the former is inherited from both parents, the latter inherited solely from the mother. In the case of cloning, scientists isolate nucleic genetic material from cells of one single donor. They then introduce this genetic material into an ovum that has been stripped of its genetic code (although the mitochondrial genes will come from the surrogate carrier). The egg — containing transplanted DNA — is then electrically stimulated to behave like a fertilized egg and begins to split. This egg is implanted into a surrogate’s uterus where the cells will continue to divide and grow. Normal gestation will follow and the surrogate will give birth to a fully formed human being at the end of pregnancy. (Broyde 297-298)

Having laid the basic scientific groundwork, I will take off my biological hat and put on my theological hat. Because human cloning technology is still in the abstract, hypothetical stages, not all the major religious institutions have released official positions on the issue. I will use a combination of published material and my own expert analysis to explore its relationship to Judaism and Catholocism.

Jewish theological and legal scholars have written specifically on theissue of cloning and determined that it is not in violation of Jewish law. In Michael Broyde’s essay, “Modern Reproductive Technologies and Jewish Law,” he states the following:

In sum…when no other method is available, it would appear that Jewish law accepts that having children through cloning is a mitzvah [good deed] in a number of circumstances and is morally neutral in a number of other circumstances. Clones, of course, are fullyhuman, and are to be treated with the full dignity of any human being. (315)

Although Broyde is not advocating for cloning to be the primary mode of reproduction — and I do not know of anyone who is — he makes it clear that it is not immoral according to Jewish law. Furthermore, cloning seems to fulfill the biblical obligations for those who are barren and living in pro-natalist societies like Israel (301). As explicated in Genesis 1:28, “And God blessed them, and God said unto them, Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth…” Given that children conceived in Israel using other reproductive technologies like in-vitro fertilization are the legal children of the donor, it seems cloning would follow suit (301). If the clone possessed a Jewish man’s DNA and was brought in his Jewish wife’s womb, that couple would fulfill their biblical obligations, still produce a child within the sanctity of their marriage, and the clone would attain full legal and religious status.

I now shift focus to a seminal Catholic text. In lieu of a document that addresses cloning specifically, I will focus on three arguments in Donum Vitae to exemplify how cloning does not necessarily violate many Catholic ideals in the way the Catholic Church feels other types of reproductive technologies do. Firstly, it is articulated that human procreation must take place within a marriage. “[F]rom the moral point of view a truly responsible procreation vis-a-vis the unborn child must be the fruit of marriage” (157). With nucleic genetic material originating from a husband and the mitochondrial genetic material originating from a wife, and the clone growing in the wife’s womb, a Catholic couple can absolutely produce a clone that is the product of their marriage, both in terms of genes and kinship. Secondly, it is asserted that, “the doctor is at the service of persons and of human procreation. [They do] not have the authority to dispose of them or to decide their fate” (167). The human cloning trials facilitated by the federal research program will seek consenting adults as both genetic donors and surrogates. They will have autonomy and control over their genetic material — not the doctors. Therefore, the medical persons involved in the trials will not have decision making power regarding the fate of an embryo. They will be the facilitators in the donor and surrogates’ procreative process. Thirdly, it is made clear that the government must protect the well being of the people. “It is part of the duty of the public authority to ensure that the civil law is regulated according to the fundamental norms of the moral law in matters concerning human rights, human life…” (171-172). The research program will be highly regulated and monitored to ensure just that.

I would be remiss to ignore the potential dangers of cloning. Yitzchok Breitowitz, in his essay in the Kennedy Institute of Ethics Journal titled “What’s So Bad About Human Cloning,” astutely identifies a multitude of risks associated with human cloning. First, it would be necessary to determine how the technology would be funded. Publicly funded human cloning programs would exist at the potential expense of social services, whereas privately funded human cloning programs would result in unequal access and raise eugenics concerns (Breitowitz 333-334). Second, clones in the early stages of human trials would likely face high viability, health, and disability risks (335). This was also the case with the early stages of in-vitro fertilization technology, which is now a popular technology used on a global scale. Third, there might be psychological burdens associated with being a clone — specifically issues of identity, expectation and individuality. Fourth, there are evolutionary and survival benefits of broad genetic diversity within a population. Widespread cloning could potentially jeopardize that diversity, which could have dire consequences in the future. And lastly, cloning provokes contested questions of immortality, human intervention and evolution. Is there a line in the sand? If so, would we be crossing it?

I am not advocating for unregulated, uncensored human cloning. Consent of all parties is mandatory. Responsible implementation of practices is vital. All theoretical and practical consequences must be considered. With that being said, we stand on the precipice of a technological revolution. We have the opportunity to set international precedent for reproductive technology. Our country’s ideas of family, parenthood and reproduction are shifting — let us enable the technology to reflect these changing times. I ask the members of Congress here to continue the funding for government regulated human cloning research program. With the hard work of our best and our brightest, the possibilities are endless. Thank you.

In this week’s readings we ventured outside the realm of Christianity and Judaism to include a Hindu approach to bioethics and reproductive technology. Focusing on the topics of IVF, surrogacy and cloning, the three works provided a multicultural perspective that considered the roles of sacred texts, spiritual traditions and historical narratives in the treatment of reproductive technologies. This is vital to understanding how and why people take varied strategies to reach their goal of having one or many children.

Swatsi Bhattacharyya opens her book Magical Progeny, Modern Technology by exploring the relationship between religion, medicine and bioethics in the academy and medical profession. Bhattacharyya then shifts to the narratives within the Mahābhārata that focus on three queens’ – Kuntī, Mādrī, and Gāndhārī – struggles with infertility. As she states on page 39, “[T]he epic does reflect a shared experience in the struggle against infertility and a shared attitude of openness and creativity towards procreation…Today, the creativity is expressed through various forms of reproductive technology.” She identifies four relevant topics to current conversations about reproductive technology: desirability of progeny; creativity and conception; women and the control of procreation; gods, humans and procreation. Bhattacharyya continues on to identify characteristics of Hindu thought – centrality of society, underlying unity of life, dharma, karma and ahimsā – and applies them to the use of IVF and surrogacy. Given that Hindu philosophy is not monolithic, Bhattacharyya examines the case of Jaycee Buzzanca from a multitude of lenses.

This book elucidates some of the the ways in which magic, divinity and fertility are intricately intertwined. As stated on page 42, “Wheres these myths in the Mahāhbārata counter interfiltiy with the magic and power from the realm of the divine, modern medicine combats infertility with scientific knowledge.” I want to ask the class if they agree: are magic and divinity separate from scientific technology? Would you argue that scientific technology is a contemporary manifestation of magical fertility, or is it void of any divinity? Why or why not?

In the second piece we read, “Modern Reproductive Technologies and Jewish Law,” Michael Boyde analyzes new cloning technology from the perspective of Jewish law. He considers the kinship relationships and asserts that a genetic male donor would hold the status of a father, and the gestational carrier would hold the status of the clone’s mother. The argument of a sibling relationship does not hold up because the genetic donor and the clone are not born from the same womb. Do people agree? Logically I understand the reasons why it is not a sibling relationship, but viscerally it does not feel like a parent-child relationship to me. Although cloning is not the ideal form of procreation, it is considered to be a mitzvah – good deed – if the genetic donor is a Jewish man and the clone is born from a Jewish womb. One of Boyde’s central points is that the clone is due fundamental human dignity and value; it is not a lesser being subject to experimentation or degradation. Boyde cautions to be cognizant of Jewish law as cloning science progresses in an effort to maintain its status as a mitzvah.

The last piece we read was Professor Seeman’s chapter “Ethnography, Exegesis, and Jewish Ethical Reflection: The New Reproductive Technologies in Israel.” Similarly to Bhattacharyya, Professor Seeman identifies the necessity of cultural consideration and understanding when looking at reproductive bioethics. For example, Jewish and Christian bioethicists’ may both be grounded in the Bible, but Jewish bioethicists may seek legal prohibitions in Leviticus whereas Christian bioethicists may seek narrative in Genesis. Professor Seeman continues on to call attention to the ways in which academy-driven discourse can ignore the real life implications and stakeholders of reproductive technologies. These stakes vary depending on geographic location, gender, economic status, etc. One way to produce more grounded, comprehensive understanding of these practices and the related bioethical issues is through ethnographic research. I wonder if

In looking at these texts more broadly, it is clear that Bhattacharya and Broyde took different approaches to reproductive technology. Bhattacharya’s book was grounded in history, oral tradition, and spirituality. Conversely, Broyde’s argument was grounded in law, status and kinship. If we were to look at the emergence of reproductive technology on a linear map, I feel as though Bhattacharya attends more to its relationship to the past whereas Broyde attends to its relationship to the future. Bhattacharya draws parallels between the ancient gods and goddesses and discusses the creativity, divinity and magic of non-normative procreation. Broyde, on the other hand, examines whether or not future cloning practices would fall in accordance with Jewish law. I wonder which approach resonated more with the class? I was fascinated by Bhattacharya’s account because it offered a spiritual grounding for a highly scientific process.

I think these differences are due both to cultural and methodological differences. In fact, I believe these two are oftentimes intertwined. For example, Broyde’s perspective was informed by Jewish law. This created an argument that was both practical and grounded. Bhattacharya could not have done that, though, because there is no such thing as monolithic Hindu law. Hinduism is a conglomeration of different spiritual and religious practices, and therefore Bhattacharya could not make definitive claims in the same way Broyde did. I think culture often times informs methodology, and therefore cross-cultural analysis and/or comparison will almost always differ due to both factors.

Both Bhattacharya and Broyde’s works exemplified some of Dr. Seeman’s main takeaways about cultural consideration. Jewish and Hindu bioethicists approach the issue of reproductive technology differently due to respectively different lived experiences. Jews believe in one God while Hinduism believes in many gods. Jews have clearly identified Jewish law whereas Hinduism does not. Hindu and Jewish geographic location, population demographics and cultural history are considerably different. These differences are many, but still, both groups of people grapple with the same issues around reproductive technology and have come to similar levels of acceptance.