Bioethics,public intellectuals and political biology today

In his Political Biology Meloni offers a fascinating account of the way in which the idea of, and conflicting perspectives on, heredity arose in the first half of the long 20th century. He shows that political events associated with the Second World War – including Nazi eugenics, and the ideological conflict between capitalism and communism – had consequences for changes in the way heredity was subsequently understood. As such thinking is closely linked to the distinction between nature and nurture it also had implications for the way the border between biology and the social science has been drawn. In this context Meloni’s notion of ‘political biology’ is positioned so as to facilitate a critical account of the historical interplay between the biological and the socio-political. At a time when there appears to be significant potential for the question of eugenics to be renewed – both through the concept of epigenetics and various other routes, including the discourses of enhancement (Agar, 1998) and near future technologies such as the ability to select for certain genetic traits – Meloni’s account facilitates an appreciation for the way in which knowledge generated within the biosciences can not only reflect our political concerns, but provide a context for further political exchanges. Furthermore, his text demonstrates that we need not adopt the analytic of ‘biopolitics’ in order to engage with the fact that scientific debates have indeterminate implications for the range of political views that are available in particular places and at particular times (and vice versa).

As a bioethicist, at least of a sort, my interest in Meloni’s work tends towards considering how we might make critical use of his perspective to address concerns that arise in the present moment. ¹ The notion that we can and should learn the lessons history has to teach us is commonplace. However, what this might mean for bioethics is not clear. Taken simplistically, it could be taken to mean that we should ensure unethical events of the past are not repeated; we should say never again to Tuskegee (Jones, 1981), to the Nazification of Medical Ethics (Bruns and Chelouche, 2017), or to the compulsory sterilization of those deemed unfit to reproduce (Largent, 2007). Given that all these examples are, in one way or another, connected to eugenic and racist thought, one approach to Meloni’s text would be to excavate it in search of further historical illumination. Nevertheless, it seems somewhat limited to think that bioethics can find little more than richly drawn examples of wrongdoing in historical scholarship. As Paton (2017) has recently suggested with regard to sociological research, the role of history in bioethics should not be restricted to that of a mere handmaiden, offering up facts for philosophical consideration. Indeed, we might go beyond the idea that historical research offers insights into how and why particular events occurred (Lerner and Caplan, 2016) and take up the full range of theoretical and conceptual tools at our disposal. Here it is possibly to examine the past, in such a way as to invite a reimagining of the present. As Meloni’s work makes clear, the question of political biology concerns the broader context in which science and scientists operate. If one seeks to contextualize today’s biological sciences it will not be long before the field of bioethics will draw one’s attention.

To his credit, Meloni does not shy away from thinking about certain bioethical (and even biopolitical) implications of his work. Nevertheless, and quite understandably, he does so only briefly and as part of his conclusion. However, rather than pursue the particular ‘intellectual provocations’ (p. 210) he offers any further, this essay follows a different, and perhaps somewhat idiosyncratic, line of thought. Through reference to recent work on the sociology of intellectuals, I propose to briefly consider if the historical shifts exposed by Meloni’s thinking can help shed light on the advent of bioethics, and if bioethics should now be positioned in relation to political biology. Thus, I take the occasion of commenting on Meloni’s monograph as an opportunity to consider the socio-political character of bioethics and whether or not it, and bioscientific knowledge more generally, currently shapes – and is shaped by – broader political strictures. In so doing I hope to show that engaging with historical scholarship can contribute to the way we understand contemporary bioethics, an academic discipline that shapes the way some of the most important scientific questions of our time are presented and comprehended.

As Meloni’s text testifies, for some time before and after the dawn of the 20th century, scientists existed in close proximity to the political class. Indeed, they were often political actors, not only engaging with and within what Bourdieu calls the field of power, but conducted themselves in a manner that was far more wide-ranging than is presently the case. Meloni’s discussion of Francis Galton is such that we might consider him to be an exemplar of such individuals. Whilst people like Galton continue to be lauded as polymaths, it is important to remember that the context they inhabited was such that the social structures of knowledge, i.e. disciplinary boundaries, were less rigid or imposing than is the case today. Furthermore, whilst the border between academic endeavour and the political contributions of ‘public intellectuals’ held validity at the time, this distinction has subsequently been hardened.

In contrast to many (but, of course, not all) of today’s scientists, Galton and a significant number of his contemporaries actively considered the meaning of their discoveries and theories; they explored the socio-political implications of their work. Furthermore, it is arguable that they did so in manner broadly consistent with a kind of philosophical endeavour that was common to the era, but that has now regrettably fallen out of fashion. ² Furthermore, the tenor of such activities substantially differs from those pursued by the majority of present-day scientists when they contribute to public debate. Today, public debate can mean writing books (or presenting TV shows) with a ‘popular’ audience in mind or, perhaps more commonly, seeking to translate the fruits of one’s research in such a way that they have an ‘impact’. Nevertheless, the majority of scientists, philosophers and academics are highly averse to engaging in anything that might be considered ‘political action’, preferring to restrict themselves to, simply, providing expert advice and information. In contrast, for Galton and his contemporaries, it meant speaking in the kind of (literary) forums organized for the purposes of public debate, but which were largely attended or read by political elites or ‘the great and the good’. Thus, it meant engaging in political discussions without being concerned whether or not this meant one was a political actor.

Part of this shift might be explained by the fact that substantially more of today’s population are able and interested in engaging with the political implications of scientific research. ³ Simply put, there has been a significant increase in the level of education offered to citizens and there has been a commensurate increase in the degree to which they can evaluate scientific advice for themselves, something that is acknowledged by scientists (Burchell et al., 2009). As such, if they wish to avoid being seen as political actors, scientists are well advised to ensure that their own political views are not seen to dominate public debates about science and scientific advances. Furthermore, over the past century, there has been an increasing drive toward the democratization of the public square. Indeed, one might say that democracy, or its institutions, have also been subject to processes of democratization (Rosanvallon, 2011). Insofar as this can be linked to the need to renew the political structures, authorities and discourses of post-war Europe, such developments can be linked to Meloni’s discussion of the democratization of biology (p. 140).

Of course, noting this connection does not offer a complete picture of the relationship between biology, political biology and bioethics. Rather, what I want to draw attention to is that during the period of biology’s (political) repositioning, not only was there a transformation in the ‘public’ that intellectuals could speak to, there was also a concurrent transformation in the socio-political style in which public intellectuals spoke. Whilst his focus is on philosophers, Baert (2016) represents this change as involving the demise of authoritative public intellectuals and the emergence of expert or professional public intellectuals and, subsequently, dialogical or embedded public intellectuals (See also: Baert and Shipman, 2013). Whilst these notions reflect differing forms of public – which is to say, political – engagement, forms that one may find in the 19th, 20th and 21st centuries, the changing socio-political circumstances mean that whilst authoritative public intellectuals were once the norm, this is no longer the case. They have been displaced by expert and, to a lesser degree, dialogical public intellectuals.

Baert associates the idea of an authoritative public intellectual with philosophers and, in particular, those philosophers who make pronouncements on a wide range of political topics. Nevertheless, it is by no means restricted to them. Given that they have many of the features Baert attributes to such individuals – including a privileged background, high cultural (and educational) capital, a generalist approach to knowledge and an ability (or, at least, inclination) to ‘speak from above’ and to do so with charisma (Baert, 2016; Baert and Shipman, 2013: 189) – it is arguable that the term ‘authoritative public intellectual’ can be applied to Galton and many of his contemporaries. This is reinforced by what we might take as the most pertinent feature of the authoritative public intellectual; their strong moral voice (2016, 2013). To my mind, the fact that Galton and his contemporaries spoke in morally authoritative terms, and positioned their pronouncements as socio-political imperatives, is clearly present in Meloni’s text. We might link this to the normative impetus embedded in the utopian ethos of pre-war eugenics (p. 90), something that motivated a range of interventions in the genetic stock of human populations suggested by individual eugenicists.

Whilst, as Meloni suggests, the aftermath of the Second World War and the ‘barbarous utopia’ of Fascist ideology (p. 146) certainly contributed to the repudiation of the utopian ethos that previously informed bioscientific research with a eugenic orientation (p. 92), other changes contributed to the decline of the authoritative public intellectual. Of particular note was ‘a growing scepticism towards epistemic and moral authority, [and] an increasing recognition of the fallibility of knowledge’ (Baert, 2016). Interestingly, similar changes created the intellectual space within which bioethics emerged and developed (Baker, 2002; Fox and Swazey, 2008). ⁴ Indeed, it is arguable that a specifically modern-or modernist-notion of applied or practical ethics developed in the socio-political (public) and epistemic (intellectual) space left by the decline of moral authority and its disentanglement from scientific (and especially biomedical) expertise. This notion of ethics, indeed this modernism more generally, erected a barrier between ‘is’ and ‘ought’ (and ‘fact’ and ‘value’). Pace Kant, it held rationality to be the defining feature of morality, meaning that ‘objective’ or ‘value-free’ argument became both the modus operandi and sine qua non of ‘ethics’ and ethical discourse. ⁵ Furthermore, not least due to the central (but often under-acknowledged) role played by the harm principle, applied ethics is at one with individualism, something that is, perhaps, the defining feature of ‘persons’ within contemporary liberal politics (Christman, 2009).

From one point of view this ethical modernism is compatible with the activities of the authoritative public intellectual and the associated notion of moral authority. Consider, for example, The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins or God is not Great by Christopher Hitchens. Both can be thought of as framing religion and belief in God as a moral concern, a choice to be made in accordance with ethical reasoning (broadly understood), and a matter on which the authors seek to pronounce with authority. However, whilst neither Dawkins nor Hitchens can be considered philosophers by the disciplinary standards of contemporary academic philosophy, their endeavours are consistent with the kind of activities associated with public intellectuals such as, say, Bertrand Russell, someone Baert (2016) positions as an exemplary case of the authoritative public intellectual. ⁶ Nevertheless, bioethicists can rarely, if ever, be considered in similar terms. Part of the problem can be traced to the fact that, as a result of disciplinarity and an increasing degree of (sub)specialization within disciplines, not only are contemporary philosophers ⁷ unlikely to be generalists – and therefore lack the intellectual disposition of authoritative public intellectuals – but they also lack any kind of affinity for the types of public intellectual – expert (professional) or dialogical (embedded) – that Baert identifies as belong to the current socio-political context. ⁸

We can go some way to explaining these difficulties by drawing on Meloni’s notion of political biology, something that not only focuses our attention on the dialogue between epistemic and political facts but to ‘the rhetorical resources employed by scientists as public figures’ (p. 18–19). In such a view bioethics is, first and foremost, a rhetorical resource employed by science as a whole. Indeed, there is a strong sense in which bioethics can be understood as mediating between ‘the epistemic’ and ‘the political’ in the context of bioscientific practices and knowledges. Whatever their type or disciplinary (dis)affiliation, public intellectuals of all types draw on whatever resources and tools of persuasion and rhetoric that are available to them. It is simply that those available to biologists have been expanded, professionalized and disciplined by the advent of bioethics. Nevertheless, whilst they are now predominantly positioned as expert public intellectuals, it is not the case that they are inimical to acting as authoritative public intellectuals. Consider, for example, Perkins’ recent The Welfare Trait (2016). Clearly, then, the more evaluative pronouncements of scientists have not been eliminated by the advent of bioethics. Nevertheless, for the most part, the moral voice deployed by scientists tends to be more circumscribed than those Baert attributes to authoritative public intellectuals. In short, one could say that expert and dialogical public intellectuals are more likely to speak in an ethical voice than they are to speak in a moral voice.

It is worth noting that bioethicists now often speak alongside bioscientists, not only in public fora, but also in the context of funding for bioscientific research where research proposals often include a component of associated bioethical analysis. Indeed, given that what is at stake ‘in public’ is not so much ‘the science’ but its meaning, implications and ethical interpretation, bioethicists could be understood as speaking in place of expert bioscientists, individuals who are not necessarily well equipped to address these broader matters. Nevertheless, despite the fact that the distinction between the expert (professional) and dialogical (embedded) public intellectual can be thought of as reflecting the modernist distinction between is and ought, fact and value, both scientists and bioethicists continue to be implicated in the dialogue between epistemic and political facts. ⁹ Indeed if, as Franklin recently claimed, we can no longer maintain an absolute distinction between what biology is and what it means then, at least for the present moment, biology and bioethics would seem to be fundamentally entangled. ¹⁰

Whilst this entanglement has the potential to further the democratization of (political) biology, the nature of applied ethics is such that bioethicists working in this vein have not achieved as much as they might have done in this regard. First, bioethicists cannot adopt the role of expert public intellectual. Whilst the communication of scientific fact is an important part of doing bioethics in public, the normative and evaluative component of the discourse places them outwith its bounds. Second, the idea of an embedded or dialogical public intellectual is inconsistent with the (internally common) view that applied ethics is a disembedded, value-neutral and, in that sense, objective endeavour. Furthermore, given that one aspect of their entanglement can be found in the fact that applied ethics and bioscientific research share certain epistemic values, it is not at all clear that bioethics is immune to being colonized by the biological worldview. Indeed, given critiques of bioethics as overly credulous when it comes to accepting the viewpoints of biology and biomedicine (Evans, 2012), this might well be the case.

Nevertheless, bioethics remains the most significant facet of the renewal of the ‘rhetorical resources’ and ‘persuasive tools’ available to public intellectuals when speaking for, against and about biology. It is here, in the neglected corner of Meloni’s triangular conception of political biology, where we find bioethics and, therefore, its connection to Meloni’s project. If political biology is the balancing of epistemic statements, political strictures and rhetorical or persuasive tools (p. 18–19) then, today, bioethics is an essential component of the discourse and as a vital aspect of public engagement in the biosciences. As such, we – and bioethicists – should appreciate bioethics as, first, central to the shape of our bioscientific present and, second, as a form of political science. In short if, as I take Meloni to be suggesting, the ethico-politics of science is too important to be left to the scientists, it is also too important to be left to bioethicists. As such, we ought to collectively strive to increase the degree to which bioethics is open to dialogical engagement as a form of political biology.