Debate over the proper use of racial and ethnic categories in biomedical research has raged in recent years. With the Human Genome Project showing that human beings are overwhelmingly alike genetically, exhibiting more genetic variation within supposed “races” than between them, many have come to doubt the scientific utility of such categories. Yet federal authorities use Directive 15 from the Office of Management and Budget (OMB) to mandate the continued use of such categories in research. Moreover, researchers studying health disparities argue that data collection using racial and ethnic categories is necessary to determine whether conditions and care vary by race and ethnicity. Epidemiologists also defend the use of racial and ethnic categories to understand contributors to disease such as the stress of experiencing racial prejudice and reduced access to care because of bias.

A friend once told me I was wasting my time writing about cross-cultural perspectives on the beginnings of life. “Your work is interesting for its curiosity value,” he said, “but fundamentally worthless. What happens in other cultures is totally irrelevant to what is happening here.” Those were discouraging words, but as I followed the American debates about the beginnings and ends of life, it seemed he was right. Anthropologists have written a great deal about birth and death rites in other societies and about non-western notions of personhood, but to date our findings have had little impact on American policy, ethics, or law. The recognized experts on contentious topics such as abortion and euthanasia tend to come from the fields of philosophy, bioethics, theology, law, and biology, but rarely from the social sciences. I was a bit surprised, therefore, to be invited to address the Thomas A. Pitts Memorial Lectureship on “Defining the Beginning and the End of Human Life.”

Perhaps it has always been so, but certainly in the post-Enlightenment era there are inevitable linkages between the fields of law, medicine, and science. Each of these realms of activity is embedded in the social milieu of the era, with practitioners emerging from families, communities, regions, and nations bearing deep unexamined assumptions about what is natural and normal. Equally important, these fields’ theoretical accounts of natural behavior will tend to dovetail and fit each other's – most especially as they pertain to the grand social issues of the period.

For the last century and a half, a conversation with a cross-section of lawyers, scientists, and physicians at any given historical juncture would produce a remarkable pattern, consistently repeated: There would be strong enthusiasm for the idea that the “current state of knowledge and practice” is both objective and transcends the current social milieu.

Nanotechnology represents, in part, a technological revolution in the sense that it allows highly innovative applications of various areas of the physical and life sciences. The development of nanotechnology and nanoscience, however, intensifies challenges to the traditional understanding of how to pursue scientific and technological knowledge. Science (in its broad meaning) can no longer be construed simply as the ideal of the quest for truth (i.e., “pure science”). Science, through its technological applications, has become the source of economic power and, by extension, political power. Science, with its political implications, has entered what John Ziman calls the era of “post-academic science.”

In this paper, I argue that nanotechnology is a cardinal exemplar of this politicization, that is, the convergence of science, technology, politics, and economics for social and governmental purposes. At the same time, I assert that this new scientific ethos offers the possibility of a better integration of ethical and philosophical reflections at the core of scientific and technological development.

DNA identification methods are such an established part of our law enforcement and criminal justice systems it is hard to believe that the technologies were developed as recently as the mid-1980s, and that the databases of law enforcement profiles were established in the 1990s. Although the first databases were limited to the DNA profiles of convicted rapists and murderers, the success of these databases in solving violent crimes provided the impetus for Congress and state legislatures to expand the scope of the databases with little critical examination of each expansion's value to law enforcement or cost to privacy and civil liberties.

We are now entering a new stage of DNA forensics, in which successive database expansions over the last decade have raised the possibility of creating a population-wide repository. In addition, new applications of DNA profiling, including familial and low stringency searches, have been added to DNA dragnets, the use of medical samples for forensic analysis, and other measures to create a series of crucial, yet largely unexplored, second-generation legal and policy issues.

How can the abortion issue be resolved? Many believe that the issue can be resolved if, and only if, we can determine when human life begins. Those opposed to abortion choice typically say that human life begins at conception. Many who favor abortion choice say that we will never know when human life begins. The importance of the when-does-human-life-begin issue is not so much argued for as it is taken to be self-evident. Furthermore, belief that this issue is fundamental is taken for granted – at least outside of philosophy – by many of the people who seem to disagree about almost everything else concerning abortion. It has been my experience that – with rare exceptions – even those who insist that the issue of abortion should focus on the interests of pregnant women believe that this focus is warranted because fetuses are either not yet fully alive or not yet fully human.

There are deep divides over the use of racial and ethnic categories in biomedical research and its application in both medical and non-medical contexts. On one side of a roughly described dividing line are practitioners who need to use every piece of information at their disposal to solve pressing, realworld problems in real time, such as making clinical diagnoses or identifying perpetrators of crime. On the other side are scientists and policy makers committed to meeting a scientific and social need for accuracy and thus trying to avoid miscategorization.

As Jay Cohn describes in this issue, medical practitioners in particular have used racial and ethnic categories to “enhance diagnostic and therapeutic precision.” He argues for retaining this practice. The plea, motivated by genuine concern for patients, is to avoid “throwing the baby out with the bathwater.” However, Cohn and others mischaracterize the nature of the debate. The argument is not about whether differences among populations exist, or even whether differences among “races” exist.

Imagine your body is populated by billions of respirocytes capable of delivering 236 times more oxygen than your natural red blood cells. These mechanical, micron sized spheres are appropriately programmed by your physician to meet your personal requirements, be it the treatment of anemia or the enhancement of your physical abilities. Robert Freitas’ vision of such artificial blood cells comprised of nanometer-scale components was published in 1998 in a peer-reviewed medical journal, and was the first medical nanorobot design paper to be published.

The fact that this proposal for a future blood substitute was accepted as worthy of publication in a scientific journal, despite the inventor's explicit statement that such a device could not be built at the time, clouds the criteria upon which an informed opinion about the feasibility of such devices could be formed. In that respect, the idea of respirocytes formidably testifies to the current “blurring of fact and fiction” occurring in the field of nanotechnology.

In the past twenty years, advances in forensic DNA technology have revolutionized the American criminal justice system. The use of forensic DNA testing in America began in 1987, and its demonstrated scientific accuracy quickly led jurisdictions to accept expert testimony regarding DNA matches between suspects and crime scene evidence. Wielding the power to exonerate the innocent and apprehend the guilty, the use of DNA identification technology has become an indispensable resource for prosecutors and law enforcement officials, as well as for defense lawyers representing persons falsely accused or wrongfully convicted of crimes they did not commit. As states began to compile DNA profiles from convicted offenders, the need for a repository for these profiles resulted in the DNA database.

Originally, DNA databases included only “those classes of offenders with a high recidivism rate, such as sex offenders and violent felons.” Recognizing the crime-solving potential of this technology, state legislatures soon began to expand the scope of DNA database statutes to include broader classes of offenders.

The United States federal government anticipates that nanotechnology will be the platform for the next technological and industrial revolution. The vision of its ongoing National Nanotechnology Initiative (NNI) is “a future in which the ability to understand and control matter on the nanoscale leads to a revolution in technology and industry.” The idea that nanotechnology is revolutionary has reached the public. In one public survey, over three-quarters of respondents answered correctly that “experts consider nanotechnology to be the next industrial revolution of the U.S. Economy.”

Labeling nanotechnology as “revolutionary” promotes a general attitude towards nanotechnology by trading on a common line of reasoning: technological revolutions are constituted by significant technological progress; technological progress enables comfort, ease, health, longevity, security and wealth; therefore, technological revolutions are social goods. Thus, to claim that nanotechnology is revolutionary invites a positive socio-ethical evaluation of it, not just a positive scientific or technological one.

Race and ethnicity are closely related, contentious concepts that have been abused and misinterpreted through history, but have a vast potential for good, at least in the health sciences. This article is not intending to elaborate on the conceptual foundations of race and ethnicity; I have addressed that elsewhere and summarized my stance in the glossary reprinted below in the Appendix. The terminology used here follows the glossary. Assuming that the conceptual foundations of my stance are reasonable, the questions addressed here focus on public health and its primary health science, epidemiology, in a European context. The questions are simple ones:

1. 1. In epidemiology and public health what are we trying to achieve when we use the concepts of race and ethnicity?

2. 2. What would we lose by rejecting these concepts?

3. 3. If we do not reject them, how do we put the concepts into operation to help achieve our goals?

4. 4. What practical actions can result from the application of these concepts in order to improve the health and well-being of populations?

Embryonic stem cell research is morally and politically controversial because the process of deriving the embryonic stem (ES) cells kills embryos. If embryos are, as some would claim, human beings like you and me, then ES cell research is clearly impermissible. If, on the other hand, the blastocysts from which embryonic stem cells are derived are not yet human beings, but rather microscopic balls of undifferentiated cells, as others maintain, then ES cell research is probably morally permissible. Whether the research can be justified depends on such issues as its cost, chance of success, and numbers likely to benefit. But this is an issue for any research project, not just ES cell research. What makes the debate over ES cell research controversial is that it, like the debate over abortion, raises “questions that politicians cannot settle: when does human life begin, and what is the moral status of the human embryo?” This paper looks at several theories of moral status and their implications for embryo research.