Is it possible to separate the study of medicine and the study of religion? Or, are the two so closely related that they become inseparable? Today, the common idea is to separate religion from medicine. The idea that you should focus on science and not religion is the standard that those who practice medicine tend to live by. However, in most cultures, medicine and religion are so intrinsically linked that you must be a master in both to understand either. In some cultures, a religious shaman performs healing rituals meant to remove bodily illness with a spiritual remedy. In America, although we profess to separate religion from other decisions, it is linked to both our culture and our decision making. Many of our laws and moral debates start with religious ideas. For example, many people who are against gay marriage argue that it goes again the Bible. Is this the same in medicine?

In Bhattacharya’s novel, “Magical Progeny, Modern Technology: A Hindu Bioethics of Reproductive Technology”, she starts off by discussing the influence of Christianity and Judaism in the American medical field. Specifically, when discussing bioethics, religious figures and institutions played a major role in the formation of the field “by helping to create various bioethics institutes such as the Kennedy Institute of Ethics at Georgetown University and The Institute for the Study of Society, Ethics, and Life Sciences, now known as the Hastings Center in New York. Many Christian theologians and philosophers were also the primary contributors to the first edition of the Encyclopedia of Bioethics.”                 However, she then discusses the marginalization of religion in bioethics as the field progressed. The interesting thing to note is that while those who practice medicine try to separate religion they somehow manage to take a patient’s religious views very seriously.

Bhattacharya later states “Eliminating religion often leads to an unwarranted dependence on law as a source of morality. Legality is not equivalent to morality; an action may be legal but not necessarily moral or correct. Additionally, an emphasis on secularism can also be oppressive in that it can require individuals to pretend that their private lives and beliefs do not spill over into the public realm”. It is very clear that religion had an influence on her study and that may not necessarily be a negative. When discussing assisted reproductive technologies, she compares the Hindu views with those of Judaism and Catholicism. Based on this study and the approach Bhattacharya took, she would support the use of assisted reproductive technologies for women who can’t have children. She discussed that women must be mothers to be considered a complete woman and in order to be considered a secure with her husband. Culturally and religiously it is in a woman’s best interest to do all she can to become pregnant.

In a similar since, Boyde states that American law is free from ethics. He does not state whether this is a positive or negative. Instead, he juxtaposes how Jewish law and American law would look at the same issue. He spends a good amount of time discussing cloning and assisted reproductive technologies from both the American legal and Jewish legal views. American legal and Jewish legal views don’t necessarily contradict. Boyde proves that they just look at different problems in the same issue. While American law looks at who donated sperm as the true father, Jewish law considers the male figure who actually takes care of and raises the child. For example, if a family were to adopt a child, the man whose sperm created the child would be considered the legal father of the child until he gives up his parental rights. However, in Jewish law, the man who adopted the child would be considered the “legal” father in the eyes of the religion regardless of whose DNA was used to actually create the child. This slight difference in the reading of fatherhood and many others allow for vastly different interpretations of reproductive problems and how to solve them.

Jewish law, which Boyde used for his study, is a monotheistic religion with a holy book with the laws and structures set in place to guide those who practice that religion. Hinduism, on the other hand, is a polytheistic religion. It has no specific or strict set of laws. Bhattacharya uses history and stories common to the religion to determine common themes and ideas about birth and womanhood in Hinduism. Bhattacharya references the stories of 3 different women. One of which was dealing with a curse. She hoped to get the curse removed in order to be able to bear children with her husband. Boyde looked more at how specific Jewish laws would evaluate issues related to child birth such as cloning, adoption, and sperm donation.

Although the methodologies are very different, I do believe that both authors would come to the same conclusion. They would both, based on methodology and the studies presented in both novels, support women using assisted reproductive technologies to get pregnant. The difference would come in the reasons for the using of these technologies and what it means for the fetus. Boyde’s studies looked at the kinship relationship between parents who raise the children and parents who donated the actual DNA that led to the creation of the child. Therefore, Boyde focuses more on the child. In contrast, Bhattacharya focuses more on the mother’s emotional and mental wellbeing from a religious view.

Swasti Bhattacharya dedicates the book Magical Progeny, Modern Technologyto bioethics using a Hindu perspective, while Broyde writes about cloning in his work Modern Reproductive Technologies and Jewish Law using a Jewish perspective.

Within Bhattacharya’s work, she mainly relies on interpretations of theMahabharata, an epic narrativethat is widespread across the realm of Hinduism, to discuss the bioethical nature of assistive reproductive technology. However, the Mahabharataisn’t a centralized sacred text that is studied by every Hindu, as opposed to the Torah or the Bible, an important difference to note between her work and Broyde’s work. In this blog, I will thoroughly examine the main principles that Bhattacharya discusses, as it is imperative in order to understand her Hindu perspective that she presents. It is important to note, however, that Bhattacharya’s perspective should not be misunderstood as “the” Hindu perspective, but one of many Hindi perspectives. She constructs her own views using the context of several sacred texts, which involve six themes stemming from Hinduism. Along with discussing the principles outlined, Broyde’s work on cloning can be used compare and contrast in terms of already established religious and traditional Jewish law. Broyde provides a thorough analysis on cloning, whether it is permissible, and the conclusion that he comes to on the basis of familial status of clone and Jewish standards. These distinct works give insight into very diverse, yet some surprisingly comparable views of utilizing assistive reproductive technologies.

Bhattacharya highlights six main elements, in Chapter 4 of her book, that showcase the main aspects of Hinduism used to understand views on assistive reproductive technologies. We will examine these elements individually, while utilizing Broyde’s book as a resource to provide us with religious comparison and outside perspective into Bhattacharya’s list. The first element discusses how one needs to put the society’s needs above personal goals. The example Bhattacharya uses from the Mahabharatais using a “divine sperm donor” as opposed to a “human sperm donor,” and Kunti and Pandu choose Dharma, a god of merit and “the cosmic judge” in order to act acceptably within society as Dharma would not do anything unlawful. Therefore, we can see that even in using reproductive technology, the consideration of what society will think and what is right is maintained. There is a similarity within Judaism as Broyde states “the general Jewish obligation to help those who are in need, and particularly compounded by the specific obligation to reproduce, thus inclining one to permit advances in reproductive technologies that allow those unable to reproduce, to, in fact reproduce. On the other side is the general inherent moral conservatism associated with the Jewish tradition’s insistence that there is an objective, God-given morality, and that not everything that humanity wants or can do is proper” (296). What Broyde says is consistent with the dilemma that Kunti and Pandu had when choosing sperm donors, but also wanting to fulfill their duty to bear children. We can see a similarity where Hindu and Jewish views show that there is a central need to help society, but also to believe in tradition.

The second element that Bhattacharya highlights, “the underlying unity of all life,” is difficult to use to interpret the view on reproductive technologies. This principle unity emphasizes an interconnectedness and “how the world, humans, gods, animals, plants, and everything else comes forth from a cosmic primeval being, Purusa.” This is similar, yet still different from Jewish scriptures, as God created the heavens and the Earth, according to the Book of Genesis.In Judaism and Catholicism, the cosmic power is God himself, not a primeval being, an entity from the earliest of time, predating “God” in Hinduism, who created Gods . To understand views on reproductive technology, the cosmology and religious component forms a basis for how the world is viewed in terms of creation.

The third element, dharma, is a central element to Hinduism, translating roughly to duty. Yet, the power and significance that dharma has in Hinduism cannot be emphasized enough. Childbearing and reproduction are thought of as a form of dharma, or to fulfill societal expectations.  In the Mahabharata, Pandu realizes that if he’s childless, he cannot fulfill his dharma. Therefore, Pandu and Kunti proceed to have children through other means, but only after assuring themselves their actions are seen legitimate by the society as that they are acting according to dharma, by God and in their duties within society. (69) On one hand, they need to fulfill dharma, but to do that, they need to deviate from the normal societal expectations to have children as Kunti needs to find another man to father her child. In the end, they fulfill their dharma within society, even if through a different form of reproduction. There is no true equivalent of “dharma” in Jewish scripture, but there lies a central importance placed on reproduction. The Book of Genesis explicitly states “to be fruitful and multiply,” and as Broyde states in his conclusion, “the fulfillment of the biblical mandate to conquer the earth (ve-khivshuha) is understood in the Jewish tradition as permitting people to modify—conquer—nature to make it more amenable to its inhabitants, people. Cloning is but one example of that conquest, which when used to advance humanity, is without theological problem in the Jewish tradition.” (317) Broyde justifies cloning as a means of fulfilling the expectation to reproduce, a statement written in the sacred text that Jews follow, even if it’s not the typical way. Hence, we can see that in both religions, reproduction is sacred, and using assisted reproductive technology to foster humankind is seen as permissible within reasonable terms.

The fourth element, the multivalent nature of Hindu traditions, can be explained as the flexibility and malleability of life and society. There is not one tradition, one law that is stated in Hinduism due to circumstances and individual adaptiveness. Broyde also states something similar, in my opinion, – When looking at Jewish views based on Broyde’s work, he says that “Jewish law insists that new technologies—and new reproductive technologies in particular—are neither definitionally prohibited nor definitionally permissible in the eyes of Jewish law, but rather are subject to a case-by-case analysis. (295). Broyde expresses the view that there is not an authoritative answer to using reproductive technology, but it depends. Bhattacharya might not be saying the exact viewpoint in terms of reproductive technologies, as Broyde is talking directly about this, but she also acknowledges the fact that there is not a specific judgement, that every circumstance is different in the realm of Hinduism and its traditions. The reason for no one judgement stems from there not being a central authority in Hinduism, as compared to Catholicism, where the Holy Bible and the Pope hold paramount importance, and Judaism, where the Torah does the same. There is no central sacred text that Hindus follow apart from several religious scriptures, which still does not equate to the Bible or Torah, hence the numerous sources and multivalent nature.

The fifth element, karma, contrary to stereotypical understanding, means action. Bhattacharya states that “According to the Mahabharata, everyone, regardless of gender, social status, or philosophical commitment, is subject to the constraints of karma; all will reap the fruits of the seeds planted by their actions.” (71) In the context of assisted reproductive technologies, Bhattacharya points out that “acting in the present can transform he current and future course of karma. Kunti, Madri, and Gandhari all took decisive actions that altered the course of their situations regarding having children.” She uses the examples of the three queens and their reproductive difficulties to say that they took action to fulfill their childbearing duties. Similarly, Broyde states that there is a qualification of the action that a Jew does in society, however the familial status also plays a pivotal role in the conduct. He says that “whether the cloning process is permissible (mutar), prohibited (asur), or a good deed (mitzvah). However, the determination of whether any particular conduct is good, back, or neutral is not dispositive in addressing the second issue: the familial status of an individual (re)produced through cloning in relationship to other humans generally…” (296). Even though karma and the Jewish qualifications of action are not identical, we can see them as each religion promoting certain actions to usually reward reproduction.

Broyde addresses not only the classification of cloning, but also the main dilemma after deciding to clone to be the status of the family. He comes to conclusion that “the vast majority of Jewish law authorities rule that children produced through other than sexual means are the legal children of the inseminator, and indeed such activity is considered a positive religious activity (a mitzvah)—a good deed” (301). Broyde argues throughout the section of the permissibility of cloning in the context of Jewish law as it “views cloning as far less the ideal way to reproduce people, however, when no other method is available, it would appear that Jewish law accepts that having children through cloning is a mitzvah in a number of circumstances and is morally neutral in a number of other circumstances.” (315) In addition, examining cloning through a Hindu lens, Bhattacharya states that “in regard to fetal stem cell research and cloning, the Hindu belief in the underlying unity of all life acknowledges the sanctity of fetal life, of all life..” (107) The principle of unity is used to discuss the possibility of cloning as Broyde discusses.

The final aspect of Hindu bioethics that Bhattacharya uses as guidelines for usage of assistive reproductive technology is the commitment to ahimsa, or no-harm. Bhattacharya says that this concept relates to the other five elements as “by acting in the spirit of ahimsa, one is acting in a manner that would most likely support the good of society and positively affect one’s dharma and karma.” (74) Bhattacharya also highlights the dynamic state of life as ahmisa and the other values are malleable in each situation. When compiling all of these concepts together, she states that “while biology and social status are not insignificant, of greater importance are those who intend to take on the parental dharmic responsibilities.” (96) She expresses that dharma and the duty to have a child is an important factor in general when discussing form of reproduction that results in a fetus. This principle, again, lies deep in Catholicism and Judaism, as written in sacred text and just simply been a natural and expected way of societal existence.

Bhattacharya gathers these six principles into the topic of assistive reproductive technologies and applies them in her conclusion. She concludes that one can clearly argue that the Mahabharatawould not only permit surrogacy, sperm donation, participation in gene selection, and embryonic manipulation, but also condone such practices. (52) When comparing with the Hebrew Bible, she says that “in the Hebrew Bible, God is unquestionably in ultimate control of the process of producing offspring.” (56) However, there are stances where assisted reproductive technologies are permitted, which Broyde’s work outlines. Broyde implies that Jewish law allows these forms of reproductive technologies if it fit the family’s needs. Bhattacharya uses the Hebrew Bible and Roman Catholicism viewpoints as comparative analyses to contrast, but also share how the theme that religion is the basis for belief surrounding reproduction is seen across both Hinduism and Judaism.

In looking at and analyzing the works of two different authors, writing about two different perspectives and religious outlooks, we are presented with dissimilar viewpoints on reproductive technology. However, looking more closely and examining the basis for why each of the authors comes to their conclusion, both Jewish and Hindu perspectives seem less different than at first thought. Both offer viewpoints that accept the use of assisted reproductive technologies for the most part, but also state that the usage is circumstantial and can be attributed to a diverse set of beliefs. However, when examining the reasoning for reaching their respective conclusions, the causes are different as they stem from their own religious texts that comes from Judaism and Hinduism, which influence Broyde and Bhattacharya, respectively, which contain a unique set of culture and traditions.

 

In order to characterize the differences between Bhattacharya and Broyde’s approaches to reproductive technology, we must first understand the authors’ purpose in writing about the topic. Michael Broyde in his book Modern Reproductive Technologies and Jewish Law aims to create an analysis of the technology of cloning from a Jewish law perspective, since “every legal, religious, or ethical system has to insist that advances in technologies be evaluated against the touchstones of its moral systems” (Broyde 295). He explains in the first chapter of this book that he does not claim to have authority of any religious institution, but rather he means to discuss the topic of cloning through his experience of Jewish law and ethics. Since cloning is a new technology that could not have existed when the Judaism came to be, Broyde is forced to reference both the Torah and other secondary interpretations of the text. After a thorough reading of religious texts, he was able to pinpoint rules that either allowed for cloning and clones to be accepted into society and the Jewish faith, or did not. Through this research, Broyde was able to provide, with a sufficient degree of certainty, that cloning is conditionally an acceptable method of reproduction.

Swasti Bhattacharya writes Magical Progeny, Modern Technology for much different reasons than Broyde. Her piece is not focused on one aspect of bioethics, but rather attempts to tackle bioethics from a Hindu perspective as a whole. Through her book, Bhattacharya strives for a much larger goal than simply understanding how modern reproductive technology would be interpreted by the Hindu eye. She means to establish the field of Hindu bioethics, as it does not exist to the extent that Christian and Jewish perspectives do. After discussing the critical role that religion plays in the field of bioethics, Bhattacharya calls attention to the lack of religious diversity in medicine and the importance of cultural competency in the practice of medicine rather than the theory. Culture, religion, and tradition allow for individuality within society, resulting in a varied experience of reality for each person. It is of utmost importance that medical practitioners are aware of these differences between people and their experiences of life in order to help them when necessary. A detailed analysis of the Hindu myth called the Mahabarata is the core of Bhattacharya’s attempt to construct a bioethical framework of assisted reproductive technology that did not previously exist. Despite taking up this enormous job on her own, Bhattacharya does not take an authoritative stance on the material she discusses. Early on in the text, she clarifies that the contents of the book are only based on her interpretations of Hinduism, and do not represent the views of others.

When comparing these two texts, it is clear that a key difference lies in the religions that they explore. Of course, I cannot say for certain that this is the only difference. An argument could be made that each author’s methodology could play a role in their differences. In this case it would be that Bhattacharya reads Hindu text and derives bioethical ideals from her understanding of it, while Broyde starts with an ethical problem and searches Jewish texts to find a solution for it. Inevitably there will be differences due to these methods of research, but when one inquires as to why the research was done this way, the answer ultimately falls back to religion. By this, I mean the structure of Hinduism and Judaism, not the religious ideals or practices. As far as I understand, the Abrahamic religions (Christianity, Judaism, and Islam) tend to follow a well established set of rules dictated by the bible. While there may be variation in the way in which these religions are practiced, there do exist fairly specific guidelines on how one should live their life. This allows for more pointed discussion on matters in question, in this case, cloning.

While Judaism is quite structured, Hinduism is the opposite. The term “Hinduism” itself is misleading, as it is an umbrella term for a multitude of different religious ideals and practices that are close enough in relation to be mistaken as one religion. There is no “formal discipline that presents and internally consistent rational system in which patterns of human conduct are justified with reference to ultimate norms and values” (Bhattacharya 27). Thus, there is no one voice that can speak for Hinduism. This makes it quite difficult to pinpoint one perspective of a bioethical issue.

Jewish and Christian bioethics rely on the regimented nature of their religions to engage in discussion about various topics. To establish a comparable field of bioethics using a pluralistic religion such as Hinduism is not practical. The nature of Hinduism itself, disregarding culture and tradition, prevents us from being able to create a “field” of bioethics as we understood it through the Abrahamic religions. Christianity and Judaism have shaped Western thought such that we feel it is necessary to have a specific set of rules that we live by. Since this does not exist in Hinduism, it is not possible to have a “Hindu bioethics”. Regardless of this, Bhattacharya made a commendable effort to bring Hindu ideas and traditions into medicine, introducing diversity into a previously homogeneous field.

Jinny Yoo

With the development in biotechnology and assisted reproductive technologies (ART), infertile couples are working in collaboration with scientists to find new avenues for reproduction. Naturally, the bioethics behind these new tools is brought into question, and interestingly enough, perhaps due to the influence of Western culture, the ethics of ART have mainly been approached with Jewish, Christian, and Catholic lenses. Thus, Bhattacharya, originally a nurse practitioner who earned her PhD with her interpretation of ART ethics through Hinduism, published a book, Magical Progeny, Modern Technology: A Hindu Bioethics of Assisted Reproductive Technology. She delves into the traditional stories of Hinduism, the 6 defining characteristics of the religion, and how these narratives and factors play a role in shaping the Hindi perspective on ART.

On the other hand, Broyde writes of whether Judaism approves of or condemns cloning. He analyzes each step in the cloning process and any potential problems that may be raised through the Jewish law, the halakhah. His main objective is to establish if cloning is permissible (mutar), prohibited (asur), or a good deed (mitzvah) (Broyde, 296). In order to do, this begins with the scientific background of cloning – this is a process that produces a human, or clone, with the same genetic information as the clonee. Rather than the production of a randomized set of genes from a mother and father, the clone would have the same genetic information as an individual who already exists. Thus, there is a distinction between a human being conceived by fertilization and a clone, which replicates the genetic information from a prior existence.

Broyde begins by raising the question of identifying the clone’s family: can there be two moms? He compares cloning to surrogacy, in which the gestational mother is labeled as the legal mother, despite the lack of genetic relation (Broyde, 300). On the other hand, the DNA contributor is to be considered the parent of the clone, as the gestational mother should not have any connection to the clone besides providing for its developing chamber; yet there is still ambiguity as clones do not share the same parents (Broyde, 304). He also raises the points of Judaism law that imply humanness is not dependent on intelligence, but rather a womb birth, while others translate it to humanness as qualified by human function capability (Broyde, 307).

Broyde concludes with his stance that Jewish law does not view cloning with the same degree of acceptance as life produced through IVF, but clones should still be considered human life (Broyde, 315). He also states that the process of cloning is fulfilling the Jewish male obligation to be fruitful, and for some infertile couples, it may be the only solution to provide for their barrenness – thus, the cloning of males is considered to be a mitzvah, while that of a woman is neutral, because while it does not go against Jewish laws, it is not necessary for women to multiply in the same way it is for men (Broyde, 311). He recommends that males should have their wives hold their clones, and if this is not possible, they should first seek an unmarried Jewish woman, then a non-Jewish woman, in that order, to avoid complications of parenthood; women should hold their own clones, and if not possible, they should seek firstly a non-Jewish woman, then an unmarried Jewish woman. This is based on the thought that children take the religion of their Jewish mothers (Broyde, 316).

While Broyde mainly uses Jewish laws and ethics that have been derived from prior cases of ART studied by the Jewish, statements made by rabbis, and certified texts such as the Talmud, Bhattacharya does not incorporate or even have access to this type of information. The latter author extrapolates from narratives of traditional Hinduism and bases her conclusions from these stories and the defining principles of Hinduism. However, it is important to note that unlike Judaism, Hinduism does not have recognized rules or laws for their everyday life because the basis of the religion stems from that every individual should live accordingly to fulfill dharma, karma, and ahimsa. Dharma, or the order and law for the entirety of society, promotes Hindus to consider the consequences of their deeds – will it overall positively impact society (65)? Karma merely translates to “action,” but it is intertwined with the idea that every individual is subject to judgment for his/her actions in future lives; thus, “this theory of karma calls individuals to take responsibility for their actions and to act” (Bhattacharya, 72). Lastly, ahimsa is the principle of non-harm (Bhattacharya, 73), and this affirms respect for all life, including that of fetuses and embryos (Bhattacharya, 86).

Due to the dearth in readily provided information in the bioethics of assisted reproductive technology in conjunction to Hinduism, it is natural that Bhattacharya is unable to draw definitive conclusions in her text. In contrast, Broyde has a different methodology of data collection because of the resources he has in his topic with Judaism. Thus, the two authors’ disparities in approach to reproductive technology not only stem from the obvious dissimilarities between the two religions, but also from their processes of data collection and the resources available. In fact, Bhattacharya began her research in Hinduism and ART because of the lack thereof. However, the two authors share a similar inability to make strong claims in their speech: Bhattacharya suggests that Hinduism’s principles are considered in the future when viewing assisted reproductive technology, the bioethics behind it, and scientific research in general (Bhattacharya, 108). Likewise, Broyde mentions his hopefulness that his analysis is considered when Jewish law indicates an approval or disapproval on cloning (Broyde, 316). As both authors are attempting to merely provide more perspectives to the respective fields of research, they both conclude with their requests towards those with religious authoritative power to consider their recommendations.

Interestingly, Bhattacharya addresses Jewish and Christian principles in her text and the published doctrines of both religions in her account. However, she mainly provides this information to contrast it with her more accepting interpretations of ART. For example, she states that as ART inevitably threatens some forms of life through the disposal of unneeded embryos and the Church views zygotes, pre-embryos, embryos, and fetuses as the same entities of life, it rejects most forms of assisted reproductive technologies (Bhattacharya, 83). In consideration of the principle of ahimsa, ART should likewise be rejected in Hinduism; however, she articulates Lipner’s point that the “soul unites with the embryo after conception” (Bhattacharya, 85), and that Hindus, although respectful of developing fetal life, do not view the former states of cell life as the same platform of a human being (Bhattacharya, 86). From this assertion, these technologies may be used to promote reproduction for infertile couples if it is used within the realms of dharma and karma.

In addition, she reiterates from the Hebrew Bible that “God is unquestionably in ultimate control of the process of producing offspring” (Bhattacharya, 56) and derives from the story of Rachel and Jacob to articulate how the couple was able to have babies only after much prayer. She also mentions the case of Zechariah and Elizabeth from the New Testament of the Christian Bible of Elizabeth’s conception that occurred only after the mother’s barrenness was overcome through God’s blessing (Bhattacharya, 56). She highlights the contrast between the narratives of Judaism and Christianity with those of three of the queens of Hinduism, Kunti, Madri, and Gandhari. To summarize the mentioned Hindu stories from the Mahabharata, the Hindi royal families face various problems with infertility and seek magical help from their gods. They manipulate factors to control the type of child to be born, such as Madri taking advantage of Kunti’s boon and seeking help from twin gods in order to have two children rather than one, or Gandhari’s wishes to provide the first-born son and going against her god’s recommendation to abandon her mass of children and, rather, facing trials to ensure their births (Bhattacharya, 42-44). Bhattacharya extrapolates from these stories and draws metaphors between the queens’ actions to conclude that modern individuals also seek ways to mold their to-be-born children and multiple births through IVF (Bhattacharya, 43).

Bhattacharya recommends that Hindus reflect upon the repercussions of ART prior to its usage. For instance, when approached with amniocentesis, which allows future parents to test their fetuses for Downs Syndrome and other health complications prior to birth giving, she states that individuals should consider the ideas of dharma, karma, and ahimsa. While aborting the fetus would be harming a form of life that counters ahimsa, it should be considered if there would be an overall benefit for the future child, the providing family, and society in doing so. “A human fetus is not simply inconsequential tissue easily discarded, nor is it a fully matured adult human being” (Bhattacharya, 107); thus, taking life will have karmic consequences, and individuals, while having autonomy, also have an obligation to be responsible for their actions. In addition, while cloning would raise various questions in bioethics, society may benefit in an influx of available organs for transplants and the potential to find cures for Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s disease (Bhattacharya, 108). Thus, Bhattacharya reiterates that because Hinduism is not monolithic (Bhattacharya, 77) and has various characteristics that make up its foundation, there is no conclusive answer on whether or not it supports or rejects assisted reproductive technology. She states the need to judge every Hindi couple’s case on an individual basis through the six key elements of Hinduism that are detailed in her writing (Bhattacharya, 107).

 

Citations

Bhattacharya, S. (2006). Magical Progeny, Modern Technology: A Hindu Bioethics of Reproductive Technology. Suny University Press.

Broyde, M. J. (2005). Modern Reproductive Technologies and Jewish Law. Marriage, Sex, and the Family in Judaism, 295-328. Rowman & Littlefield Pub, Inc.

 

Michael J. Broyde and Swasti Bhattacharyya observe reproductive technology under two very different religions: Judaism and Hinduism respectively. The fundamental difference to each author’s approach goes beyond religion. Broyde evaluates reproductive technologies through Jewish law (Halakhah) with regards with kinship. On the other hand, Bhattacharyya analyzes modern reproductive technologies through oral tradition (Mahabharata) with regards to society.

Broyde’s understanding of cloning seems to be strictly based on what is stated under Jewish law. He continues to the “analysis of implications of cloning found under Jewish law” and debates if cloning classifies as “permissible (mutar), prohibited (asur), of a good deed (mitzvah)” (Broyde 296). The ultimate conclusion is the Jewish law does not encourage cloning as a means of reproduction due to the confusion that arises in recognizing one’s kin. However, when left with no other choice, “Jewish law accepts having children through cloning [as] a mitzvah” and ensures that a child through cloning is not considered socially inferior (Broyde 315). Overall, Broyde’s analysis of cloning was analyzed through how Jewish law identifies kin. He identified in which individual situations a birth mother or father versus the cloner would be recognized as the true parent of the child. The identification of such relationships was based on what is outlined under Judaism.

On the contrary, because Hinduism has no formal law, Bhattacharyya used the story of three women (Kunti, Madri, and Gandhari) and their efforts to bear children. Her application was not based on what is right or wrong under her religion, but rather, on what important religious figures had done historically. According to the Mahabharata, Kunti and Madri use different offerings and prayers to remove a curse placed on their husband, Pandu, so that the gods would bless them with a child. Moreover, Gandhari ensures an heir for her husband, Dhartrastra, with one hundred sons and one daughter by splitting the flesh of her unborn child in one-hundred jars with oil (ghee). Bhattacharyya uses such stories to emphasize how important it is for a Hindu woman to have children for the reputation of her family, for the status of her husband, and for social acceptance in general. The faith of different offerings and prayers to god or the act of splitting flesh into jars was extrapolated into modern reproductive techniques being accepted so that a woman can have children. Essentially, Bhattacharyya seems to argue that the faith and magic that targeted infertility in the past can be replaced by the science targeting infertility today (and in the future).

Overall, Broyde based his conclusions on what seemed right or wrong under religious laws regarding kinship. On the contrary, Bhattacharyya seems to base her conclusions on what has been done by women to meet social expectations and how women today can meet those same social expectations with the help of technology.

While independent religions play a large role in the differences between both works evaluated, it is imperative the many variations in each religion. Foremost, Hinduism was founded on a geographical basis while Judaism was founded on a religious basis. In other words, people geographically located in India who were found to be practicing a similar religion were grouped together and their practices were titled Hinduism. On the other hand, people across different nations practicing a specific religion, in a much more unified manner, were titled as practicing Judaism. As discussed in class, this concept is found in the name of the religions as well. Hindustan is the name of India in Hindi and the religion practiced by a large majority of the nation is Hinduism. The root of all three words is one. On the other hand, Judaism has no root word in relation to a specific country or geographic location. It was founded when it was widespread.

Along with differences in geographical founding, both authors conceded to variations in interpretation and application of their respective religions. In his writing, Broyde explains that the use of reproductive technology is “subject to a case-by-case analysis” under Jewish law. He furthers that the Halakhah is not the sole determining set of guidelines but serves “as an attempt to outline some of the issues … [to] sharpen or correct those [case-by-case] evaluations” (Broyde 295). In her Introduction, Bhattacharyya also clarifies that the Mahabharata is “not utilized to find ‘the answer’, or to eliminate options”; instead, myths are employed for their “alternative options and applications” (Bhattacharyya 14). Because both authors agreed that their respective religions have room for variation in understanding and interpretation, each author’s personal interpretation of their religion must derive from a place outside of religion.

The backgrounds of both authors are essential to their understanding, and personal application, of religion. Broyde has a background in law while Bhattacharyya as a background in nursing. From his background, it makes sense that Broyde employs strict Jewish legal interpretation for his analysis. Bhattacharyya does not have a legal background and Hinduism does not have a strict set of laws, thus, she chooses to evaluate a sacred text that is known by most, if not all, practicing Hindus. As a female and as a practicing Hindu, her application of the text is much different than what it would be had Broyde been evaluating it. In my opinion, Bhattacharyya extrapolates religious texts more than Broyde. Broyde seemed to look at what was given and apply it to modern times while Bhattacharyya used a story, and ongoing social pressures that women face to have children, in order to come to her conclusion.

When considering new topics, such as prenatal testing, I believe that Broyde would evaluate prenatal testing independently to define it (similar to his structure with cloning). He would then evaluate prenatal testing based on its impact on kin. Broyde would emphasize the value of how that child would identify with its kin because Jewish law tends to emphasize the value of kin. On the other hand, Bhattacharyya would likely reflect on how the three queens in Mahabharata acted to determine if prenatal testing is justified by women today. Moreover, she would likely emphasize concepts like Dharma, Karma, and Ahimsa to ensure that anyone who engages in prenatal testing is still following the path of a true Hindu.

In terms of the influence of Jewish and Christian bioethics on Bhattacharyya, it seems that she generalizes western bioethics overall. Bhattacharyya consistently clarifies that Hinduism is practiced differently across different parts of India. However, when comparing her conclusions on Hinduism to western religions, she fails to acknowledge that even Judaism and Christianity face diversity in interpretation. In fact, throughout her conclusion section, Bhattacharyya specifically focuses on Roman Catholic practices. More specifically, when discussing family planning services and contraception, Bhattacharyya explicitly states that the Church finds that “distributing condoms and other forms of contraception threaten the development of, or life of the fetus and thereby threaten the sanctity of of life”. However, when discuss the same topic from the perspective of a Hindu, Bhattacharyya clarifies that “a full examination” would be needed “in light of various potential Hindu perspectives” (Bhattacharyya 119). Simply put, western bioethics has been limited to one idea in Bhattacharyya’s discussions where, in reality, they deserved the same clarification with regards to multiple perspectives as Hinduism.

   As our world is rapidly advancing and globalizing, people are aware of and more inclined to make use of assisted reproductive technologies ,such as IVF (In vitro fertilization), in order to fulfill their individual desires or religious obligations to have children. However, differences in religion and tradition have contributed to various approaches to reproductive technologies. For instance, as Hinduism contains no central authority or law, Swasti Bhattacharrya, in her book Magical Progeny, Modern Technology a Hindu Bioethics of Assisted Reproductive Technology, explains her interpretation and understanding of a Hindu bioethics within the Mahabharata, an ancient, crucial Indian epic. On the other hand, in Michael J.Broyde’s Marriage, Sex, and Family in Judaism, Broyde analyzes assisted reproductive technologies from a Jewish law perspective, and as a result, he withholds his opinions as he is limited to the already established Jewish law. Fundamentally, differences in the cultures, Hinduism and Judaism, shape the authors’ methodologies and aims; as Bhattacharrya claims that Hindus generally accept assisted reproductive technologies as a solution to infertility, Broyde emphasizes that Jews reluctantly condone reproductive technologies as a last resort to procreation.          

Generally, Hinduism places a common cultural emphasis on the importance of having children. In Hindu society, an old married couple without children is seen as unfortunate or unworthy of possessing God’s gift of children. Because children are perceived as a vital aspect of Hindu life, Bhattacharrya proclaims that Hindus are more accepting of assisted reproductive technology as it finds a loophole to infertility. Additionally, in the Mahabharata, when Pandu finds out that he possesses a curse that will inhibit him from having children, Pandu miserably says “For a childless man they say…there is no door to heaven. Therefore I who am childless am much troubled” (Bhattacharrya 50). Thus, even though there is not a Hindu law that proclaims Hindus are obligated to reproduce, most Hindus feel that it is their duty, or dharma, to produce good children that will benefit the society as a whole, and if they do not complete this duty, they believe that they will be prevented from reaching heaven or moksha, a state of peace. Assisted Reproductive technologies are seen as a way to fulfill an individual’s dharma, and as a result, secure a peaceful afterlife. Furthermore, in the Mahabharatta, humans and Gods work together in the process of procreation, and humans are able to manipulate the Gods to receive a favorable outcome.  For instance, in the Mahabharata, when Kunti and Madri, the wives of Pandu, are upset that they cannot conceive children, they each contact a God that has desirable qualities, such as leadership, strength, and power, to give them a child. From this, Bhattavharrya analyzes that by getting impregnated through God, Kunti and Madri accessed a “divine sperm bank” just as modern Hindus seek artificial insemination to combat infertility (Bhattacharrya 42). In addition, just as Kunti and Madri had the opportunity to choose which God their child came from, modern Hindus carefully select their donors based on what qualities they want their child to possess.

Essentially, according to Jewish law, God is the ultimate control of procreation, and humans should not interfere with God’s creations and his role in the universe. However, the Jewish also are obligated to help those who are in need, and particularly compounded by the specific obligation to reproduce, thus inclining one to permit advances in reproductive technologies. Therefore, to find a medium between Jewish moral conservatism and assisting the infertile couples, reproductive technologies are “neither prohibited nor permissible in the eyes of Jewish law, but rather are subject to a case-by-case analysis” (Broyde 295). Basically, Broyde suggests that Jewish law will condone reproductive technologies in order to allow Jews to fulfill the obligation “to be fruitful and multiply”, but they will not allow an infertile couple the use of reproductive technologies in order to have children to fix their marriage, resolve the fear of mortality, or simply because everyone else around them has children (Genesis Ch1). According to Broyde, although Jewish legal tradition requires a man to procreate by having a minimum of two children, “it is quite clear that the normative Jewish tradition assigns no obligation upon women to reproduce” (Broyde 310). By not requiring women to reproduce, the Jewish law tends to lean against the use assisted reproductive technologies, but it will condone the use of such technologies if it is necessary.

Overall, differences in the religions, Hinduism and Judaism, mold the authors’ objectives; as Bhattacharrya suggests that Hindus commonly embrace assisted reproductive technologies as a loophole to infertility, Broyde emphasizes that Jews hesitantly allow the use of reproductive technologies as a last resort to procreation. As various cultures contain diverse attitudes towards assisted reproductive technologies, Bhattacharrya attempts to create her own modernized version of a Hindu bioethics for fellow Hindus to look up to when needed, while Broyde reemphasizes the Jewish law’s position on assisted reproductive technologies and implies that Jewish law is trying to keep up with the advancing world by analyzing such technologies and condoning them on specific, necessary cases.

 

Works Cited

Bhattacharya, Swasti  Magical Progeny, Modern Technology: A Hindu Bioethics of Reproductive Technology (Suny University Press, 2006).

Broyde, Micheal J. “Modern Reproductive Technologies and Jewish Law,” In Michael J. Broyde and Michael Ausubel editors, Marriage, Sex and the Family in Judaism (Rowman and Littlefield, 2005), pp. 295-328.

Book of Genesis, chapter 1 <http://www.webpages.uidaho.edu/Genesis.pdf>

In the readings assigned for this module, we see two varying approaches to reproductive technologies. Bhattacharya’s approach to reproductive technology in the academy, the clinical setting, and in public policy includes a reliance on the six elements of Hinduism. Bhattacharya’s ideas about the fluidity of Hindu thought and the notion that are people are interconnected translate into ideas about bioethics. Broyde’s approach to reproductive technology, then, provides an emphasis on law, which is noted with the inclusion of “Jewish Law” in the title.

As we discussed in class, there are two sides to the coin of bioethics. Modern bioethics serves as a way to make a decision, regardless of the character of the person(s) involved. Virtue ethics, then, is centered around character building to better equip the person to make those decisions instinctively. Based on the two readings, Bhattacharya’s text is reminiscent of virtue ethics, and Broyde of that of modern bioethics. Bhattacharya quotes Jonsen and Toulmin saying, “moral knowledge is essentially particular, so that sound resolutions of moral problems must always be rooted in a concrete understanding of specific cases and circumstances” (104), which leads me to associate her ideology with that of virtue ethics. Broyde’s emphasis on evaluations on a case-by-case basis stressed on the first page of his chapter (295) associates him with that of modern bioethics present today.

In terms of the differences between the approaches, many things contribute to the specific values held by a person of a particular religion or sect. Perspective is shaped by various environmental factors and obstacles faced over time. I am hesitant to state that these differences can be attributed solely to differences between religion, as variance in opinion and interpretation are present even in the same religion or sect. Even so, religion is a large part of culture, which I think does a better job of accounting for these differences in ideology. To quote Bhattacharya, “This ability to hold and be comfortable with differing accounts and interpretations of God, of Brahman, translates into different accounts and interpretations of particular situations” (102). Because of this, my belief is that the specific methodology of each author definitely plays a big role in the differences present. For example, Michael Broyde’s area of interest is law, with some religion mixed in as well. Swasti Bhattacharya, on the other hand, is a Gender and Woman Studies professor, and works with the American Academy of Religion. While these backgrounds can overlap on some concepts, such as religious law and reproductive technology, the responses will be as varied as the backgrounds of the authors.

If presented with the ethical dilemmas from last module, I believe that Broyde would stress the importance of analyzation on a case by case bias, based on his comment on the first page of his chapter (295). From a previous bioethics class, I know that this is the main methodology of many bioethicists, who are hesitant to make generalizations. For example, if a family already has a child with a genetic disorder that can be screened for and does not feel that they would be able to properly care for another, I feel that Broyde would be in favor of genetic testing, in this scenario. His answer could change, however, in others. In his section entitled “The Slippery Slope and the Denigration of Human Beings”, Broyde emphasizes the importance of each human person created “in the image of God” (312). In the conclusion section, Broyde presents the idea that a person must fully understand the consequences before committing an act, but also admits that the avoid said act “permanently” is also not ideal (316). Based on these statements, I would imagine that the author Broyde would want a couple considering genetic testing to fully educate themselves on the topic. As we watched in the film The Burden of Knowledge, many couples were not fully educated about the topic or held some misconception about the procedure and results.

Battacharya, on the other hand, might have a different response. When we discussed the Hindu value of ahimsa in class, I immediately thought of the bioethical terms beneficence and non-maleficence. Non-maleficence, specifically, means to do no harm, which can be interpreted in a multitude of ways. Is the physical process of genetic testing considered doing harm, because of the increased risk of miscarriage? Is bringing a child into this world with a disorder unknown before giving birth considered doing harm? Both of these questions depend on the interpretation of the value of ahimsa. Along with ahimsa, there are five other values that Battacharya stresses in the beginning of chapter four (63). Similar to Broyde, I also think that Battachrya would feel it necessary to examine the situation from all vantage points, based on this line from the conclusion section, “We gain a richer understanding of moral questions and a better grasp on answers when we examine bioethical issues from the vantage point of several different perspectives” (99). Because of her emphasis on the six elements of Hindu thoughts, I believe that Battacharya would emphasize the importance of the second element, or the underlying unity of all life. While these are only speculations, moral dilemmas such as these are difficult to predict.

 

Sources:

Michael J. Broyde, “Modern Reproductive Technologies and Jewish Law,” In Michael J. Broyde and Michael Ausubel editors, Marriage, Sex and the Family in Judaism. (Rowman and Littlefield, 2005), pp. 295-328.

Swasti Bhattacharya, Magical Progeny, Modern Technology: A Hindu Bioethics of Reproductive Technology (Suny University Press, 2006).

Much of the culture we enjoy today in a great number of countries around the world is based on Christianity and Judaism. Though both religions derive their history and ideologies from the same text, we can see some stark differences between their interpretations of it. This simply shows how critical ethnography is in the development of cultures. The first two chapters of the book of Genesis offer a historical account of the creation of mankind as well as a moral one. Within the text, these two qualities are intertwined rather than dichotomous, as we typically see them as today. Biblically, the creation of man is perceived as a morally righteous act. Thus, any creation of man, reproduction included, is considered a moral good. This is one reason why so much value is placed on reproductive ability within our society.

In Genesis 1 verse 26, it is written: “Then God said, ‘Let Us make man in Our image, according to Our likeness; let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth’” (Bible.com). Both Christianity and Judaism interpret this verse as having some responsibility for furthering mankind and caring for other creatures we find on earth. The verse 28 reads: “Then God blessed them, and God said to them, ‘Be fruitful and multiply; fill the earth and subdue it…’” (Bible.com). Here, it is clear that God specifically asks of man to continue the species through reproduction. This process then becomes not only a biological need but a commandment from God. The Lord gave man the ability to make the moral choice of whether or not to have children in hopes that he will do the right thing. It is also stated in Genesis 1:27 that God created man in his own image. The word image could refer to God’s physical form or the his ideological and moral image. Either way, both religions in question acknowledge that reproduction is a critical part of our duties as humans.

Christianity and Judaism as religions have developed different understandings of human reproduction. Each line of scripture has been heavily debated for centuries, causing slight changes in interpretations. Genesis 1:28 may be the most important verse in determining where the differences in Christian and Jewish views lie. The Christian reading of the verse emphasizes the word blessing, and sees it as a suggestion or a piece of advice. In this case, God tells man that it is in man’s best interest to procreate and further the human race. And so, reproduction is seen as a strong urging rather than a command. By the Jewish faith, the use of the word “be” indicates a command, thus heightening the importance of reproduction. Having children is an order, so achieving this through other means is much more accepted.

The family unit is another point of debate and perhaps another instance where Christianity and Judaism differ. A Christian family consists of a husband and wife, bound together by marriage as it is written in the Bible. Children are related to the parents by blood, so the acceptance of IVF and usage of other reproductive technologies within the religion is rare. Marriage and procreation within the Christian faith is limited to monogamous and hetereosexual ones. On the other hand, the emphasis placed on procreation in Judaism changes the structure of the family unit and kinship ties. It is believed that the Jewish faith is passed down through the womb rather than blood. A Jewish womb will undoubtedly produce a Jewish child, regardless of whose sperm is used. Because of this belief, the use of IVF and such is accepted if not encouraged for women who have not yet had children.

Throughout time, the importance of reproduction and kinship has been viewed in the light of religion. For Jews and Christians, the Genesis serves as a basis by which God directly tells them how and who to consider as their kin. The way they interpret what is said, especially in the first two chapters of the Genesis, significantly affects their views on who is kin and how that person is kin. The first chapter of the Genesis talks about how God created mankind in his likeness (1:26) so that they could, essentially, rule over the Earth in place of him. After God had created everything, he gave man a “helper suitable for him” (2:18). Eventually, this helper literally came from man himself, to show the inseparable union between man and woman. The man and woman now have this bond through which there were able to fulfill God’s blessing of being “fruitful and increasing in number” (1:28).  This has been interpreted to mean that mankind was given the gift of reproduction, and one way or another, had to fulfill this purpose. Human reproduction is seen as something that God directly told man had to be done in order to increase their presence in this world. And this reproduction had to be done between a man and woman that were fortified together by a very strong bond, which is usually seen as marriage.

This interpretation of reproduction and kinship in the Genesis, as mentioned earlier, differs between Jews and Christians. As mentioned in Dr. Seeman’s article on “Reproductive Technologies among Jewish Israelis”, Jews use both the Genesis and the Leviticus. The Genesis is used for their idea of marriage, the traditional marriage that is typically seen. The Leviticus, on the other hand, is used to focus on “claims about permitted and forbidden reproductive practices” (Seeman 346). Based on this, the Leviticus is seen to be what is referred to for the legality of reproduction. Christians, on the other hand, use the Genesis to understand both marriage and reproducing. As later described in Seeman’s text, Catholics use the text to “focus on what can be derived from narrative rather than legal portion of the biblical text” (Seeman 348). Thus, one of the reasons behind the differences in interpretation is through how the Genesis itself is used by religions: legality versus narrative. In general, the Genesis gives us the idea of creating a family, however, what to do with that information is up to interpretation by the two religions. This is why there is a major difference in the understanding of a fundamental life concept between Jews and Catholics.

Nevertheless, these differences also come from the importance of how one determines what kinship means. Does kinship come from genetics? Or is everything passed down matrilineally? How does one define a child that meets the religion’s requirements, as well as the reproductive needs of the parents? From the “Instruction on Respect for Human Life in Its Origin and on the Dignity of Procreation”, it is clear that the view of the Catholic Church on kinship comes strictly from marriage. A child must come from the egg of the wife and the sperm of the husband. If the couple is having reproductive issues, like infertility, then the only option that is acceptable to the Catholic Church is homologous artificial insemination or IVF with the husband’s sperm. They understand that some couples do not have the ability to procreate and would like to, but the main point they emphasize is that having a child is not “an object to which one has a right…. rather, a child is a gift, ‘the supreme gift’ and the most gratuitous gift of marriage” (Shannon and Cahill, 168). Basically, even though it seems like one must have children in marriage, they don’t necessarily have to. For Catholics, the emphasis on procreation isn’t on creating children; it’s more on valuing the life they are about to bring into the universe, from the moment of conception. Thus, the Church is looking at reproduction and kinship from a moralistic/ ethical view. For this reason, they have very stringent regulations on reproductive biotechnology. Homologous IVF is seen as the only viable option because it uses the egg and sperm from both parents, so the child will be genetically related to both. The other options are either not morally righteous or the child will be related to only one of the parents, which brings about its own problems. So, from the view of the Catholics, kinship emphasizes and depends on genetics and being able to trace your lineage from both parents.

Jews, on the other hand, seem more open-minded to the idea of using reproductive biotechnology. One reason is because they don’t focus as much on the Book of Genesisfor reproduction, like Christians do. However, it is mainly due to how they interpret kinship. For them, family comes matrilineally. Likewise, there is a huge pressure placed on women to have children, even if they are not married. In Susan Kahn’s book Reproducing Jews, we saw this emphasis on creating a family, and the support the country of Israel gave these women. Kahn looked at reproduction from the viewpoint of single, older-aged women who were not married to show how the laws of religion played a role in their reproduction. Overall, though, the rabbis say that it is okay for women to bear a child if done through artificial insemination. How strict the rabbi is on whether the sperm comes from the father, or a Jewish sperm-donor or from a non-Jewish sperm-donor, depended on the women and how strictly of a Jew she was. Ideally, married couples who were having reproductive issues could get IVF done. However, Susan Kahn was looking at this from a non-ideal perspective of unmarried women who needed to fulfill their duty of producing another Jew. Compared to the Catholics, the Jews placed an emphasis on having children, whether or not they were completely genetically related to both parents or completely Jew. This was because the way a Jew was defined differed from the way Christians or Euro-Americans see kin. Hence why it seems that the Jews were more lenient towards reproductive biotechnology. Something important to note, however, is that Jewish women and couples didn’t prioritize using artificial insemination or other reproductive technologies for having kids; instead, they used as a last resort after having flushed out all other options.

After comparing the views on this topic between Judaism and Christianity, one could see how there are multiple factors at play here besides the interpretation of the Genesis. How strict one is in their faith, how progressive they are with their religion, the emphasis on carrying on one’s lineage versus the importance of life, the importance of culture along with many other factors played an important role in the views of the religious priests and followers of both these religions. Looking at these topics through an ethnographic perspective allowed for a more humanized understanding of the problems these people were going through and why (or why not) using these reproductive technologies would be important. By just reading religious texts, it is up to interpretation of the individual. But through analyzed understandings of the culture, religion and people, it allows for various perspectives to be shown that emphasize different factors important for one religious group versus another. Additionally, it allows for comparisons to be drawn between varying groups to show how practices in one may or may not be the same as in another. It is through these ethnographic approaches that some of the religious decisions can be brought about, in regards to a heavy topic like reproduction and kinship.

 

Citations:

Don Seeman, “Ethnography, Exegesis and Jewish Ethical Reflection: The New Reproductive Technologies in Israel.” In Daphna Birenbaum-Carmeli and Yoram S. Carmeli editors, Kin, Gene, Community: Reproductive Technologies Among Jewish Israelis(Berghahn Books, 2010), pp. 340-362.

Donum Vitae In Shanon, Thomas A. and Lisa Sowle Cahill, Religion and Artificial Reproduction: AnInquiry into the Vatican “Instruction on Respect for Human Life in its Origin and on the Dignity of Reproduction.”(Crossroad, 1988).

Susan Martha Kahn, Reproducing Jews: A Cultural Account of Assisted Conception in Israel(Duke University Press, 2000).

 

The first two chapters of Genesis recalls a biblical event that explains the origins of man and is usually used as the standard to familial relations for those who go by this biblical text. The second chapter specifies that a woman was made for a man as companionship. This establishes the belief that heterosexual relationships are the ideal. It also states that a man leaves their mother and father for a woman so that they could be “one”. Again, this asserts that men and women couples were created by God and were the only types of couples recognized by the bible. This passage also already assumes that a man and a woman together (“mother and father”) creates a child, establishing reproductive norms as well. Christian’s have an alternative way of reading the book of Genesis compared to the Jewish community. Christians, especially the Catholics, use the book of Genesis to support their negative opinions on technology that assists with reproduction, pointing out sections that provide examples through stories on how issues arise when women are burdened with the inability to conceive and therefore find alternatives. To Christians, these narratives may warn about moral issues that may arrive as natural human conflict, because of the deviation from Genesis reproductive and kinship traditions. The Jews, on the other hand, refer to the book of Leviticus when dealing with questions about alternative, biomedical reproductive strategies. Leviticus lacks these complicated, elaborate stories of other people’s lives and focus more on family rules that dictate Jewish laws, such as sanctification. Therefore, because this is more of a focus, the state of Israel has more toleration towards using technology to combat infertility, such as in vitro fertilization. This then translates to more support, money, and relaxed social views for single women going through procedures to become a mother within Israel. IVF is high in the state of Israel compared to other countries. Their religious beliefs do not specifically ban reproduction that does not follow the norms of copulation between a man and a woman. However, other researchers suggest that there are additional reasons to why Israel is comfortable with supporting these technologies. These reasons include the want for a larger Jewish demographic, state security, and the immense support from extended family.

Susan Kahn did a wonderful job of trying to interpret the point of view of Jewish single woman wanting to go through a process of assisted conception. Kahn was able to involve herself in the lives of these other women and was able to make a real connection with this specific population of Israel. Unlike religious texts, this allowed her to know the actualities of opinions and beliefs of the people within a medium that seems more honest. Not every person abides by or follows every part of their religion. Religious commands and suggestions could be interpreted to mean certain things. They could also be taken more lightly by some people or not followed at all. You would not know this just by reading religious text, nor would you know it by only listening to religious leaders and political figures. An ethnographic approach to answering questions about technology that have raised concerns globally as we advance in our ways to manipulate the human body is a very insightful solution. This method gets to the core of what is actually happening within specific groups of people. The production of a culture is not solely through its religion. There are other variables that influence how a culture makes decisions about certain phenomena’s such as reproductive technologies. An anthropologist like Kahn could learn about these other variables through deep discussions with people. We learn that the doctors and nurses had an influence on the sperm choice for the women and that family members cause pressure to conceive a child which could lead to the want of faster reproductive alternative choices. We also learn that copulation outside of marriage just to have a child was considered “dirty” while reproduction through a sperm donor was considered “clean”. You could not find all this information within religious texts, nor a rabbi. Overall, differences between religions on their viewpoint of certain scientific discoveries, as well as, important principles like kinship and reproduction can be analyzed through many strategies which has shown to be crucial to fully understanding.

Citation:

Kahn, Susan Martha. Reproducing Jews: A Cultural Account of Assisted Conception in Israel. Durham: Duke University Press, 2000.