Cloning: Where Do You Draw The Line?

Members of congress said they felt "humbled" last week as they rose to debate the Human Cloning Prohibition Act, and that was an entirely appropriate response to their assignment. The goal was simple: stop anyone from trying to clone a human, a prospect that strikes just about everyone as medically dangerous and morally repugnant. The problem was how to do it in a way that did not also outlaw all kinds of other promising research that relies on some of the same techniques. The stakes could not be much higher--Will we or will we not allow the custom-creation of children?--and the outcome was never much in doubt. But as a preview of battles to come, the debate signaled just how hard it is to write laws about issues so complex, values so transcendent and interests so competing; and it revealed what kinds of moral trades politicians were willing to make when it comes to science that both holds such promise and raises such concern.

The cloning vote landed right in the middle of the Summer of Science, in which politicians, reporters and a President have all gone back to school for a refresher course in cellular biology. This was political science at its most scientific--and its most political. It is no accident that the vote came just as George W. Bush is poised to announce his decision on whether to allow federal funding of embryonic-stem-cell research. A majority of Americans and members of Congress favor such research, which holds great promise in curing such diseases as Parkinson's, Alzheimer's and diabetes. Whatever Bush decides, in the end it will probably be left to Congress to craft a compromise over all kinds of research involving human embryos. Last week's vote was a test of conscience for the moderates who represent the swing vote on these issues, a chance to show where they are willing to draw some lines, raise some guard rails.

Both bills before the House promised to outlaw "reproductive cloning," i.e., cloning to create a baby. But lawmakers had to decide what price they would pay to make sure that ban really stuck. The hard-line choice was Florida Republican Dave Weldon's bill, which would bar the creation of cloned human embryos for any purpose and punish violators with 10 years in jail and a $1 million fine. The alternative amendment, introduced by Republican Jim Greenwood of Pennsylvania, would also bar reproductive cloning but would allow "therapeutic cloning," in which scientists create embryos in order to harvest the precious stem cells that can be derived from them. Shut that research down, argue the scientists, and the most promising frontier in medicine is suddenly off limits. Let it proceed, say opponents, and you have crossed a line toward the manufacture of humans as tools, and there is no going back.

Some members hailed the debate as a triumph; many have been working hard on these Book of Life issues, consulting scientists and ethicists and searching their souls. Others called it a travesty to debate for only three hours a bill that was rushed to the floor by conservative leaders who were looking to slow the momentum that has been building for the funding of embryonic-stem-cell research. "It's just Republican Leadership 101," Greenwood told TIME after his amendment was defeated. "Their basic theory of politics has always been stroking the base rather than courting the centrists." Still others considered it meaningless: Senate majority leader Tom Daschle indicated that no such bill would come to a vote in the Senate, which meant House members could cast a symbolic pro-life vote without its having any actual effect. That helps explain the lopsided, 265-to-162 win for Weldon's bill.

Still, there was no mistaking the sense of seriousness in the chamber Tuesday afternoon. "This vote is about providing moral leadership for a watching world," said Wisconsin's James Sensenbrenner. Lawmakers cited everyone from Galileo to the Pope to Nancy Reagan in their arguments over how best to balance protecting human life against relieving human suffering. Supporters of the tight Weldon ban warned of embryo farms and headless humans cloned to harvest their organs. "Human beings should not be cloned to stock a medical junkyard of spare parts for experimentation," declared Tom DeLay. Those favoring Greenwood's more liberal guidelines warned of America becoming a theocracy, where a minority's conviction could block research to benefit millions. "If your religious beliefs will not let you accept a cure for your child's cancer, so be it," argued California Democrat Zoe Lofgren. "But do not expect the rest of America to let their loved ones suffer without cure."

For strict pro-lifers the issue is straightforward: an embryo at any stage of development is a human life, worthy of protection, and any kind of research that entails destroying an embryo to harvest its cells is immoral, no matter how worthy the intent. It involves using people as means; it turns human life into a commodity and fosters a culture of dehumanization that we accept at our peril. "We have just enough time to ensure that we remain the masters of our technology," warned Henry Hyde, "not its products."