Our Posthuman Future: Consequences Of The Biotechnology Revolution [Hardcover]

Fukuyama suggests that failure to impose substantial government dictates over the "when's" and "how's" of future research centering on the human body and mind will precipitate a significant sea change in the inherent nature of our species, how we interact with one another, and a potential threat to Liberal Democracy. The implicit message is that unfettered scientific inquiry will lead to developments we will come to deeply regret.

While Fukuyama correctly illustrates the "easy fixes" that our society has latched onto (Prozac, Ritilin: Who said freedom to choose would mean wise choices?), his thesis fails to acknowledge the considerable roadblocks that Religion and State have placed in the way of the evolution of our species throughout history.

"Human nature" has, in fact, demonstrated a rather elastic nature over time. If one accepts the premise that human nature is fixed in an eternal quest for freedom, self-development and dignity and is manifested in superior intelligence, then one would want to remove any artificial roadblocks to creating the maximum environment in which these attributes could flourish. How else to explain the demise of almost all competing political models to Liberal Democracy? Yet, Fukuyama proposes a step backward, based on what appears to be a fixed, non-elastic definition of human nature.

Were a caveman to be plopped down in the late 20th Century and witness the first heart transplant, would he recoil in disgust and declare the practice inimical to the basic fabric of human existence? Quite likely. Does that mean, with the limited intelligence of a less developed brain - but with a brain nonetheless and all basic body parts and feelings that "Modern Man" exhibits - that the caveman would be right? I don't believe anyone would answer in the affirmative.

Now, as Man fights to tap the wonders of stem cells to better his fellow man by ridding the world of Parkinson's, Alzheimer's, spinal cord injuries and the like, a new Holy Alliance of Religion and State has swooped in to cut off this laudable research at its knees. Already, the director of the National Institutes of Health has called on President Bush to lift draconian restrictions on research utilizing the stem cells of embryos discarded from fertility clinics (clinics whose practices have been condemned by only a vocal minority). Other voices, including a broad-based medical ethics panel, also call for revision of the Administration's protocols.

Time was, Inquisitions were used to ferret out individuals whose scientific curiosity did not adhere to those of The True Believers. Now we have a more diplomatic way to arrive at the same end: find a politician to serve as Front Man.

As dispassionate and thoughtful as Fukuyama's work appears on the surface - and no one can really argue that the author is a card-carrying member of The Religious Right or a shill for the Papacy - Fukuyama's call to action would have us expand the yoke of State control (in concert with the views of select religious figures) at a time when his beloved model of Liberal Democracy is finally expanding across the globe, toppling barriers to the practical application of human intelligence everywhere.

Which, in its own way, is rather ironic.

Much of "Our Posthuman Future" is devoted to Fukuyama's case for "human nature" and "human dignity." One can hardly blame him; the technologies he describes pose grave existential questions for the human condition. We may very well evolve into a "posthuman" stage of being. My central problem is Fukuyama's negative reading of the term "posthuman"; though he applauds biotech breakthroughs that have prolonged and improved human life, he equates "posthuman" with the soulless "happy slaves" of dystopian science fiction. He seems unable or unwilling to foster the notion that willfully upgrading the human species through psychotropic drugs or genetic intervention might result in a legitimate long-term improvement. Fukuyama accomplishes his literary mission by vigorously defending what he terms "human nature." To his credit, he gives us a robust historical model of what it means to be human, citing philosophers from Aristotle to Nietzsche and even name-dropping roboticist Hans Moravec and artificial intelligence advocate Ray Kurzweil. But he refuses to acknowledge that the definition of "human" is conceivably in our hands and not the exclusive domain of blind natural selection, thus ignoring the opportunity to develop an authentically new transhumanist philosophy.

Any reader will naturally sympathize with the impending bioethical controversies scrutinized in "Our Posthuman Future." For example, will germ-line engineering lead to a race of superhumans and, if so, what happens to the founding principles of liberal democracy? Will parents of the near-future screen prospective embryos for desired characteristics, resulting in a genetic aristrocracy? Unfortunately, Fukuyama's arguments are rendered toothless by his unwillingness to challenge the prevailing biomedical paradigm, which seeks to treat the sick yet leave well enough alone. For Fukuyama, death is not merely acceptable in a society of potential immortals, but confirmation of "human nature." Predictably enough, he ends his book with a rallying cry for increased governmental precautions and legislation against technologies that might revise his quaint definition of "human."

To be sure, "Our Posthuman Future" is worth reading. Fukuyama is intelligent and sincerely cares about the future of humanity and civil liberty, which is more than can be said for many of his contemporaries. But even his best arguments are burdened with thinly disguised neophobia.