GM foods as a Clockwork Orange

Recently, a neighbor referred me to a video extolling the virtues of genetically modified food crops. Like many such documents, this video claimed that our growing world population makes high yield food crops a necessity in the effort to avoid worldwide food insecurity. As I watched, the usual objections came to mind (potential unforeseen health consequences, genetic “drift”, handing over our food supply to multinational food corporations, etc.). Such objections are familiar to anyone who opposes GM foods. Urgent and valid as they are, it must be said that they are merely “instrumental” objections. If it could be demonstrated beyond the shadow of a reasonable doubt that these objections are groundless, would this then mean that we should proceed in the project of tampering with the genome in the name of security and progress? I say no. The reason is that at the heart of this controversy lays a deeper truth about our relationship with the rest of the natural world. I will address my comments here to this truth.

To start, I would like to address technological interventions in a broad way. I will start by considering an ancient technology, one that was instrumental in bringing us to the place where we are now, that of the stone tool. When our ancestors learned the value of modifying rocks so that they could be used to cut and grind foods, making them easier to store and consume, they were working with a quality inherent in the material they were working with. It is a peculiarity of certain stone that when struck at the appropriate angle, a flat flake would detach. Because of this, the knife is, so to speak, already present in the stone and simply waits to be drawn from it. This is also true, in a more complex way, in the case of those plants and animals that have been domesticated throughout the ages for our use as foods, draft animals and companions. The grasses that we have domesticated for cereal grains contain within their genes the potential for use as a high quality food source. The skill of the plant breeder is to examine the nature of plants and selectively breed them so that desirable qualities are expressed. The same is true of cattle, horses and even dogs. All of the organisms on which we depend come complete with qualities that, when teased out of the welter of genetic variability, can be bought to bear at the right time and in the right way to benefit us.

It might be said that the history of plant breeding and animal husbandry is a history of a close relationship of cooperation between species—a relationship that grows from what is always already present in the parties to that relationship. To see how genetic modification of organisms departs from this relationship we might consider a dramatic example. In Anthony Burgess’s “A Clockwork Orange”, the main character, a violent juvenile delinquent, is “rehabilitated” through drugs and behavior modification so that any violent impulse, including the will to defend himself AGAINST violence, calls up violent illness and anxiety. The same technique renders “Little Alex” unable to contemplate sex or even to enjoy music. The central ethical question of the novel is whether it is enough to render a person unable to commit violence if this will protect the public at large. The only character in the film who objects to this method of controlling the violent impulses of society is a priest who claims that it is only through choosing good over evil that a person becomes truly good. The priest’s contention is that it is the spiritual potential inherent in humanity that, when cultivated, leads us to goodness, mercy and peace.

At the heart of the priest’s objection lays the faith that humane feeling is a quality inherent in human nature. In the same way, physicist, and environmental activist Vandana Shiva counters the claim that GM food crops are the only effective means of insuring food security in third world countries by stressing the importance of conserving the ancient germ lines of food crops and good land management. Shiva’s contention is that the wide adaptability of grains (for example) to variations in climate represents a potential inherent in these plants to meet the nutritional needs of people around the world. The philosophy represented by the priest in A Clockwork Orange and in the writing and work of Vandana Shiva takes, as its starting point, that the saving qualities in nature are best bought to fore by knowing and cultivating qualities already present in nature. To put an even finer point on the conceptual material I am trying to bring to light here consider the following question. Would you rather have a fulfilling relationship with a friend, a spouse or a child through the long and careful cultivation of that relationship or would it be better to simply “program” others to fulfill these roles to your satisfaction.

I am reminded of a funny exchange I had with someone concerning a piece of software I use. This software enables me to scan text into my computer and have it “read” back to me through a speech engine. The voice that the text is read back in a soft, vaguely English sounding female that t he programmers call Jane. It is also possible to type into this program and have the system read back what has been typed. While demonstrating this application to a friend he said, “So, you can make her say anything you want?” I told him yes. He then said, with a sly little grin, “can you make her say ‘I love you’?” “Yes,” I said “but she won’t mean it”.

To those of us who see our relationship with the rest of the world as one of cooperation, this relationship is one in which we wish to be taught and nurtured by the world and not simply served. A good horse breeder is one who loves the animals. That love will express itself in a deep curiosity about the nature of the animal. In time, the breeder becomes wise in the ways of horses and thus is changed. This change will not be a change in his/her nature, but rather, an articulation of this nature. Thus, the natures of the trainer and horse harmonize and cooperate. It is the same with the plant breeder who patiently experiments with different varieties to learn which thrives in the region. The author Micheal Pollin has suggested that plants, by presenting useful or novel properties, use US to perpetuate their genes. The extent to which the plants can be said to display “intention” is open to broad philosophical debate (human intention itself is a matter of some controversy in philosophical circles). The point not to be missed is that we have long been in a conversation with the rest of the natural world. A conversation implies that the other has something important to tell us. Changing the nature of other organisms puts an end to this conversation as much a robot lover undermines the very concept of love, which is always reciprocal.

Therefore, I come to what must be called a core belief, namely, that the nature of other organisms must be seen as autonomous. The cooperation between humans depends on the agency of each and on a conversation between these agencies, which, through careful cultivation, finds a path of mutual benefit. Why should we not extend this understanding to other organisms? The alternative is something closely akin to the institution of slavery. To compel another to serve us without regard to their own needs and desires are not only wrong in an ultimate moral sense, it also has dismal practical consequences. To see the truth of this one need look no further than the history of race relations in America. Similar lessons can be drawn from any instance of colonialism and subjugation.

The long and bitter enmity that grows from such institutions presents us with problems, some of which may only be resolved through attrition. The cautionary lesson to be derived here is that the practical problems that arise from mistreatment and lack of respect for the inner life of other humans arise from a deep and absolute moral wrong. Even if we grant that this wrong was the result of simple ignorance, it is clear that we have long passed the point where such ignorance can be justified. It is wrong to tamper with the nature of the organisms on which we depend for our lives for the same reason that it is wrong to deny the agency of another person so that we may benefit at their expense. If we cannot learn this truth in a spirit of humane feeling, we will be made to feel it through even more bitter consequences of ignoring it.