In an earlier CQ editorial (Vol. 19, No. 1, January 2010,) we offered some suggested “Do’s and Don’ts” for authors submitting papers to bioethics journals and we invited readers’ comments, including their own experiences. Responses from readers were prompt, numerous, and sometimes battle scarred. They fell into two categories: (1) advice intended for fellow authors and (2) comments directed at editors regarding the review process. Examples of suggestions for fellow authors included: “When you send a paper to a journal, already have your cover letter prepared for your next choice so if a rejection comes your disappointment won’t feel like such a setback.” and “Before submitting a paper, always have it critiqued by colleagues you trust to tell you the truth not just what you want to hear—and more than one if possible.” and “Carefully check your submission correspondence. I once sent a paper to a journal erroneously addressed to a rival publication in the cover letter—I never heard anything back.”

Human rights are universally acknowledged to be important, although they are, of course, by no means universally respected. This universality has helped to combat racism and sexism and other arbitrary and vicious forms of discrimination. Unfortunately, as we shall see, the universality of human rights is both too universal and not universal enough. It is time to take the “human” out of human rights. Indeed, it is very probable that in the future there will be no more humans as we know them now, because the further evolution of our species, either Darwinian or more likely determined by human choices, will, we must hope, result in the emergence of new sorts of beings better able to cope with the intellectual and physical challenges of the future. One example of the ways in which this is already happening is the sorts of cognitive enhancement that are already coming on stream. Another is signaled by stem cell research and the birth of regenerative medicine.

Picture this. You are having your regular medical checkup, when, all of a sudden, the physician turns to you and says: “Oh, did I remember to mention that you can now live forever?” You look at the doctor enquiringly and she goes on: “Well, it’s not actual immortality, you know, but they’ve invented this treatment—I don’t have the full details—that stops aging, getting physically older. It might not be for everyone, but you seem to be a suitable candidate. You could still die of accidents and illness, of course, but they’ve calculated that with care and any luck you should live to be a thousand, as opposed to the hundred or so that you would now have. And in a millennium, techniques will advance further, so there could be more in store for you after that.”

The United States, along with other nations and international organizations, has developed an elaborate system of ethical norms and legal rules to govern biomedical research using human subjects. These policies govern research that might provide direct health benefits to participants and research in which there is no prospect for participant health benefits. There has been little discussion, however, about how well these rules would apply to research designed to improve participants’ capabilities or characteristics beyond the goal of good health. When mentioned at all in the literature, this so-called enhancement research, as opposed to research aimed at diagnosing, preventing, curing, or treating illnesses or medical conditions, is usually dismissed without explanation.

It was only a matter of time before the portmanteau term “genethics” would be coined and a whole field within bioethics delineated. The term can be dated back at least to 1984 and the work of James Nagle, who claims credit for inventing the word, which he takes “to incorporate the various ethical implications and dilemmas generated by genetic engineering with the technologies and applications that directly or indirectly affect the human species.” In Nagle’s phrase, “Genethic issues are instances where medical genetics and biotechnology generate ethical problems that warrant societal deliberation.” The great promises and terrific threats of developments in scientific understanding of genetics, and the power to enhance, modify, or profit from the knowledge science breeds, naturally offer a huge range of issues to vex moral philosophers and social theorists. Issues as diverse as embryo selection and the quest for immortality continue to tax analysts, who offer reasons as varied as the matters that might be dubbed “genethical” for or against the morality of things that are actually possible, logically possible, and even just tenuously probable science fiction.

The “doctrine of double effect” has a pleasing ring to it. It is regarded by some as the cornerstone of any sound approach to end-of-life issues and by others as religious mumbo jumbo. Discussions about “the doctrine” often generate more heat than light. They are often conducted at cross-purposes and laced with footnotes from Leviticus.

Recently, concern has been raised regarding the politicization of public bioethics. Party politics has increasingly influenced public debate on ethical issues like stem cell research, human cloning, and end-of-life care. These debates have put bioethics “smack in the middle” of the culture wars. These recent events confirm Daniel Callahan’s prescient claim made in 1996 that “bioethical debates are beginning to reflect those culture wars … the larger moral struggles of our society.”

Informed consent is central to modern research ethics. Informed consent procedures have mainly been justified in terms of respect for autonomy, the core idea being that it should be every competent individual’s right to decide for herself whether or not to participate in scientific studies. A number of conditions are normally raised with regard to morally valid informed consent. These include that potential research subjects get adequate information, understand those aspects that are relevant to them, and, based on that information, make a voluntary decision whether or not to participate. These conditions are meant to guarantee that participation is genuinely the individual’s own choice and is coherent with his or her authentic interests.

In a footnote to the first edition of Political Liberalism, John Rawls introduced an example of how public reason could deal with controversial issues. He intended this example to show that his system of political liberalism could deal with such problems by considering only political values, without the introduction of comprehensive moral doctrines. Unfortunately, Rawls chose “the troubled question of abortion” as the issue that would illustrate this. In the case of abortion, Rawls argued, “the equality of women as equal citizens” overrides both “the ordered reproduction of political society over time” and also “the due respect for human life.” It seems fair to say that this was not the best choice of example and also that Rawls did not argue for his example particularly well: a whole subset of the Rawlsian literature concerns this question alone.

In speculating on the motives for government, English philosopher Thomas Hobbes identified the pervasive role of fear and the danger of violent death, holding famously that where no government prevails to secure physical safety and property, there can also be no enduring knowledge, art, or civilization—leaving human lives “solitary, poore [sic], nasty, brutish and short.”

Applying bioethical principles can be difficult in resource-poor environments, particularly for Western doctors unfamiliar with these limitations. The challenges become even greater when clinicians must make rapid critical decisions. As the following case in Zambia illustrates, the Rapid Ethical Decisionmaking Model, long used in emergency medicine, is a useful tool in such circumstances.

The process of research is often lengthy and can be extremely arduous. It may take many years to proceed from the initial development of an idea through to the comparison of the new modalities against a current gold-standard practice. Each step along the way involves rigorous scientific review, where protocols are scrutinized by multiple scientists not only in the specific field at hand but related fields as well. In addition to scientific review, most countries require a further review by a panel that will specifically address the ethics of the proposed research. In Canada, those panels are referred to as Research Ethics Boards (REB), with the United States counterparts known as Institutional Review Boards (IRB).

Hospitals sometimes refuse to provide goods and services or honor patients’ decisions to forgo life-sustaining treatment for reasons that appear to resemble appeals to conscience. For example, based on the Ethical and Religious Directives for Catholic Health Care Services (ERD), Catholic hospitals have refused to forgo medically provided nutrition and hydration (MPNH), and Catholic hospitals have refused to provide emergency contraception (EC) and perform abortions or sterilization procedures. I consider whether it is justified to refuse to offer EC to victims of sexual assault who present at the emergency department (ED). A preliminary question, however, is whether a hospital’s refusal to provide services can be conceptualized as conscience based.

At the Cambridge Consortium for Bioethics Education held in New York in April 2010 (refer to CQ Vol. 19, No. 4, p. 430), participants were asked to submit three to five of their favorite bioethics readings, ones they recommend for curriculum lists as well as those they find personally useful. Their responses are compiled below. Some entries received several mentions, others a single one. Some picks are traditional favorites, others are less well known. As a point of interest, the reading most often recommended was Rachels J. Active and passive euthanasia. New England Journal of Medicine 1975;292(2):78–80.

Mr. C was a 62-year-old Chinese-American man suffering from end stage liver disease secondary to Hepatitis C. While on the waiting list for a liver, he was told that his current condition and MELD score were not advanced enough to expect a liver transplant for several years. Because of his chronic fatigue, he asked if there was any way to speed up the process but was told that was not possible.

This section is meant to be a mutual effort. If you find an article you think should be abstracted in this section, do not be bashful—submit it for consideration to feature editors Kenneth V. Iserson and Barry Morenz at [email protected].