Books in Brief

Embracing a New Ethical Model

African American Christian Ethics.
Samuel K. Roberts.
Cleveland, Ohio: Pilgrim Press, 2001.
$26 (Softcover).

Samuel K. Roberts presents a thought-provoking, systematic critique of African-American Christian ethics. His analysis assumes the reality of this behavior and discipline, based upon the experience of African-American Christians as it is concretized in the spirituals. This ethic emerged amidst a faith that enslaved those deemed "other," even as they relied on this faith for liberation. As Roberts notes, this ethic recognizes that neither the enslaved nor their oppressors could be free in such a status quo. Yet Roberts also observes that, for such an ethic, African-American exclusivism in response to oppression cannot be liberating. With poetic signification, Roberts resolves the paradox by claiming that God is beyond human limitations and perspectives. He articulates his framework by explicating Eurocentric cultural idolatry and Black theology, and by suggesting a model of intellectual integrity and moral consistency that posits a Tillichian God "as ground of being rather than a God of personal being."

Methodologically, Roberts explores God, Christ as Liberator and Reconciler, and the Holy Spirit as Counselor and Inspirer, and the sources that shape this African-American Christian ethic: Bible, ecclesial tradition, human nature and freedom, and knowledge and reason interfacing with faith and God. Roberts concludes by investigating contextual praxis and addressing the foundations and resources that mold life in the African-American community—from sexuality and bioethics to justice at the polls. Roberts proposes a vision of African- American Christian ethics as interdisciplinary scholarship and critiques various thinkers and schools of thought, challenging what he calls their flawed premises and logic.

Building a theological orientation for a distinctive ethic, Roberts explores the concept of God, God's relationship to created order, the question of moral evil, and theodicy. He highlights African- American male thinkers while avoiding cultural exclusivism. From classical Christology, Roberts explores representations of Christ in Black culture and theology, and he offers a Christology of freedom through reconciliation with God in Jesus the Christ, and of freedom in God's kingdom that moves toward community participation. He deconstructs the Holy Spirit as God's emanating grace that intersects worship and work as a creative force in the believing community, the church. Given the exegetical heritage of the spirituals, framed by their "creative genius with the historical experience of terror," an African-American concept of biblical authority must discern the glimpses of God's will in an alien world. The complex, diverse African-American church fosters spiritual alertness, works in the world, inspires without couching rhetoric in ideology, praises God, encourages faithful living, and nurtures believers. Roberts uses the spirituals to posit "the freedom inherent in human nature and human existence" with, unfortunately, an underdeveloped argument. The impetus for knowledge amid faith and reason in the African-American religious consciousness is the "interplay between victimization and vindication," where people overwhelmingly affirm the sufficiency of God's grace and the potential for human beings to make a difference. Mindful of the sexual commodification of African Americans and ongoing stereotypes, an African-American sexual ethic of commitment and integrity authenticates sex and love. A healthy bioethics involves African-American participation and inclusion within prin- ciples of Christian faith. Roberts analyzes justice in the courts, markets, and electoral precincts, and calls for a full inclusion of African-American political interests within the American political order. He invites a new institutional and personal piety with an enlivened praxis of partnership within African-American life, moving toward an authentic interracial dialogue of diverse viewpoints and perspectives, one not steeped in guilt.

Roberts's tome speaks like a renaissance work, as his analysis juxtaposes artistic renderings with scientific investigation and interrogates early church history and classical philosophy with the present-day reality of African Americans. He allows interfaith and interreligious perspectives by not assuming that Jesus is the only mark of salvation. Yet, how do a depersonalized God and a related ethic have an impact on people who are extremely Christocentric and wedded to a personal Jesus as Lord and Savior?

Roberts's work is such a cut above that his omissions of womanist scholars, Jon Michael Spencer's work on theomusicology, and Robert Lovell Jr.'s magnum opus on the spirituals are bewildering and unfortunate. Roberts uses inclusive language for the divine, but does not offer a critique of God as Father. Despite these exceptions, Roberts's work is a must-read for those interested in the American Christian experience, including the African- American experience. It is highly recommended for seminary or university courses that combine theology, ethics, history, liturgy, and lived experience.
—Cheryl A. Kirk-Duggan




Ethics, Faith, Health, and Moral Freedom

Moral Freedom: The Search for Virtue in a World of Choice.
Alan Wolfe.
New York: W.W. Norton, 2001.
224 pp. $24.95 (Hardcover).

"Idon't think you can teach a kid to follow orders," one of sociologist Alan Wolfe's interview respondents says. "You can try to convince the child that that's right, but if we don't let the child think for themselves and make their own decisions, you're leaving them, as an adult, vulnerable to these ad campaigns where they're told what to think." People's concerns about vulnerability go far beyond advertising, but that statement is moral freedom in a nutshell: Think for yourself, and make your own decisions. This idea, although "casually taken for granted" in contemporary America, is also "quite revolutionary." "Now for the first time in human history," Wolfe argues, "significant numbers of individuals believe that people should play a role in defining their own morality as they contemplate their proper relationship to God, to one another, and to themselves."

Wolfe emphasizes that people have neither chosen nor lapsed into moral freedom; instead they find it forced upon them. As he puts it with characteristically gentle wit, "Once upon a time, Americans raised families without being able to know whether their children would turn out to be good or bad. Now they raise children uncertain about what good or bad actually are." Moral freedom is "a sometimes terrifying sense of insecurity as to what they consider it means to lead a good and virtuous life."

The significance of Wolfe's argument for ethics and faith—two of the three words that subtitle this journal is evident. I believe the book is equally significant on the issue of health, but since Wolfe does not discuss health, illness, or medicine, that significance requires some interpolation.

Wolfe reports both survey data and interviews with randomly selected people in eight diverse American communities. The book contains a few percentages but no graphs or tables. Instead Wolfe quotes respondents saying what is representative of how Americans talk about their values, morals, and ethics. He recognizes that this approach is itself a symptom of an age of moral freedom. The idea of inducing morality by asking people how they lead their lives is part of the general belief that "any form of higher authority has to tailor its commandments to the needs of real people." What do these real people believe, and how are they trying to live?

With respect to faith, Wolfe's respondents confirm what other commentators have noted: People consider themselves religious but are often suspicious of organized religion. Religion, as one respondent puts it, "so often functions as keeping people in check and keeping them in this little box and makes life not messy." People recognize that life is messy. The mess requires avoiding absolutes, even though finding a creative response to each situation is itself messy.

With respect to ethics, moral freedom is anything but the anarchy feared by conservative commentators whom Wolfe engages throughout the book. Part of what makes Moral Freedom such a delight to read is Wolfe's ear for people's sincere attempts to lead good lives, even as they are unsure what that means. Wolfe genuinely likes and admires people perhaps because of, not in spite of, their contradictions and dilemmas, which are especially apparent in ideas about honesty and forgiveness, two of his central concerns.

What does Wolfe tell us about health? A recurring theme is that when people seek explanation for others' moral behaviors, and when they judge or refuse to judge others, therapeutic explanations trump theological and philosophical ethics, and medical explanations trump psychological. As people seek to affirm the disrepute of acts while providing leeway to actors, they look to medicine, especially genetics. If Wolfe had asked about health care, I suggest his respondents would have said that people are responsible for their own health, but individuals can rarely be blamed for their particular sicknesses. Americans, Wolfe shows repeatedly, value personal responsibility, but they also limit it in their unwillingness to blame except in extreme circumstances and, provocatively, sexual choice.

Wolfe's counsel is to be neither for nor against moral freedom but to learn to live with its inevitability. He never underestimates the problems of moral freedom, but his attitude seems that of his respondents: for all the uncertainty they face, "they also have some reason to hope." This generous, carefully researched, insightful book leaves me with no doubt that he is right: "The twenty-first century will be the century of moral freedom." In this brave new world, Wolfe is an exemplary, and most hopeful, guide.
—Arthur W. Frank




The Respect Due to Persons

Who Count as Persons? Human Identity and the Ethics of Killing.
John F. Kavanaugh.
Washington, D.C.: Georgetown University Press, 2001. 248 pp. $45 (Softcover).

Who Count as Persons? is a passionate defense of the proposition that the direct killing of human life is always morally wrong. The author, John Kavanaugh, S.J., believes this proposition follows from a proper understanding of the human person. Thus his book does more than discuss the ethics of killing; it sets forth a theory of personhood.

Kavanaugh locates an essential aspect of personhood in the capacity for what he calls "reflexive consciousness." Reflexive consciousness is the ability of persons to be conscious of the fact that they are conscious. This ability, in turn, is necessary if persons are to step back from their environment to engage it, which is a necessary condition for the formation of the self.

Grounding personhood in reflexive consciousness appears to imply that human beings who lack the capacity for reflexive consciousness are not persons. Surely the fetus, the anencephalic baby, and the patient in a persistent vegetative state do not possess consciousness of their consciousness. Kavanaugh insists, however, that such individuals, indeed all human beings, belong within the class of persons. The steps that lead him to this conclusion are not altogether clear to me, but the crux of the argument seems to reside in Kavanaugh's view that human nature contains potentialities, one of the most important of which is the potential for self-reflexive action. All human beings, from the fetus to the patient in a persistent vegetative state, possess this potential and are, therefore, deserving of the respect due to persons.

The argument from potential is by no means decisive, but it is stronger in my judgment than some will be willing to recognize. My one-week-old daughter may possess no more rational ability than a mouse. However, if I were to treat her like a mouse, subjecting her to laboratory experiments, I would be inflicting harm on the person she is to become. The experiments performed now would produce their harmful effects later, and those harms would be qualitatively different from the harms experienced by a mouse in full maturity.

Thus, genuine regard for any species of animal requires consideration for what that species can be, and insofar as human beings are capable of becoming more than other animals, they are deserving of a different kind of respect. Next Kavanaugh argues that his theory of personhood leads to the ethical maxim: Affirm the intrinsic value of human beings and do nothing to negate their personhood. Intentional killing is the willed negation of personhood, says Kavanaugh, and those who justify killing must do so by disregarding human dignity for the sake of a competing value. This justification, Kavanaugh says, is unacceptable.

However, a recognition of the intrinsic value of the human person does not necessarily entail an absolute prohibition on killing. In order to draw that conclusion one must first consider a prior question about the relationship between human dignity and the right to immunity from lethal harm. If in certain circumstances persons do not enjoy moral immunity from lethal harm, then killing them in those circumstances will not violate their dignity. The just war tradition, for example, justifies the intentional killing of combatants by asserting that they do not enjoy immunity from lethal intention. They do not enjoy immunity, not because their lives lack dignity, but because life itself is a value within an order of values that includes justice, order, and liberty, values which the just war seeks to protect.

Perhaps if one considers life an absolute value, one will think that all justifications for killing are built upon a suppression of human dignity. However, to claim life is an absolute value requires more than a theory of personhood, it requires a theory of the objective order of values in which life finds its place. This is something Kavanaugh does not provide, nor do I believe he can provide it to produce the conclusion he needs. Life has value through its relationship to higher values such as truth, justice, and the good; in other words, if there are no values greater than life, life itself has no value.

My disagreements with Kavanaugh notwithstanding, I believe he has written a thought-provoking book worthy of critical engagement. His arguments will enrich ethical discussion both in and out of the classroom.
—Helmut David Baer




How Sexual Science Operates

Sex, Love, and Health In America: Private Choices, and Public Policies.
Edward O. Laumann and Robert T. Michael, eds.
Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2001. 535 pp. $48 (Hardcover).

In 1994 six prominent sociologists characterized the sexual practices of Americans.1 Their National Health and Social Life Survey employed sophisticated scientific methods to obtain a representative sample of adults from eighteen to fifty-nine years old and to maximize truthful self-reporting. Their work represents the best that cross-sectional study has to offer about sex. It is so large in scope that their data are likely to be quoted for decades to come in professional and lay articles. The media quickly publicized some of the findings with headline-grabbing spins on the revelations about our private behaviors. Sensationalism aside, many professionals found it exciting to learn that Americans have tame sexual lives.

Two of the survey's architects, both distinguished professors at the University of Chicago, planned this volume of thirteen essays based on further analysis of the original data. With graduate students and an occasional colleague coauthor, their essays discuss important aspects of adolescent sexuality, adult sexual behaviors, sexually transmitted disease, and public policy.

Clearly, sex is not simple. Sexuality does not lend itself to any direct definition. It is simultaneously private and public, individual and collective, biological, social, and psychological, conscious and unconscious, measurable and beyond measurement, static and evolving. Every informed professional, each relevant discipline, and all interested institutions should know that it is impossible to have the last word on the subject. This is not just because the United States contains a great diversity of opinions about everything sexual. It is also because the clinical and social sciences have learned that sex is a profoundly rich topic, and numerous perspectives are better than one.

The text's nineteen authors delve deeply into sexuality's complexity. Their data begins with the influences of age, gender, marital status, education, race, ethnicity, and religious affiliation, which is used to build models for understanding psychological topics such as abortion, sexual satisfaction, sexual dysfunction, and AIDS prevention. The essays—serious, academic, and carefully edited— invariably educate the reader. The book is hard work, particularly for the statistically unsophisticated reader; there are so many findings, possibilities, and uncertainties. The book contains many useful contributions for those whose profession it is to grapple with issues involving teen pregnancy, sexually transmitted diseases, racial disparities, sex education, pornography, sex research, and how sexual life ought to be conducted. These professionals may include local, state, and federal government officials, legislators, academics, religious educators, teachers, clinicians, and foundation officers.

A theme of the book is the need for continued scientific study of sex. This is not because research will show us what to do with our controversies involving unwanted pregnancies, sex crimes, extramarital sex, and homosexuality, for instance, but because having an objective starting point makes the discourse more efficient. These erudite authors are not attempting to create new public policies. They are informing the public about the issues and helping to keep the rhetoric from becoming too simplified.

Funded sex research is rarely directed toward the study of health. Government agencies and foundations fund studies in the hope that they will ultimately assist in the solution of problems. Of the key words in the title, two are a bit misleading. Health is a relevant but largely implied topic in some of the essays. Love, however, cannot even be found at the edges or between the seams of these discussions. This subject is too private, subjective, and quixotic2 to be grasped by the data examined here. So why is "Love" in the title? The book's focus is on selected socially relevant sexual problems; it is not about the evolution of individual sexual health. These essays induce readers to wonder how we Americans actually come to acquire our private ideas and personal rules for sexual conduct and how we actually make some of the choices that shape our fates. These questions, although thoroughly illuminated, are only partially answered.
—Stephen B. Levine

NOTES

1. R. T. Michael, J. H. Gagnon, E. O. Laumann, G. Kolata, Sex in America (Boston: Little Brown, 1994). E. O. Laumann, J. H. Gagnon, R. T. Michael, S. Michaels, The Social Organization of Sexuality: Sexual Practices in the United States (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1994).

2. See my essay, "The Nature of Love," in Sexuality in Mid-Life (New York, Kluwer Academic Publishers, 1998).



The Forest for the Trees

Genetic Dilemmas: Reproductive Technology, Parental Choices, and Children's Futures.
Dena S. Davis.
New York: Routledge, 2001. 153 pp. $22.99 (Softcover).

For many women today, having a baby may require working through a decision tree, the kind of flow chart that Dena Davis lays out: Have a child? If yes, have it with/without assistance by technology? If assisted, which technology? Here, especially, the branches of the decision tree are multiple. If or if not assisted, should the embryo (or fetal) cells be tested? If tested, implant/continue pregnancy based on results? And so it goes.

Each node or choice on this decision tree raises difficult ethical questions not only about what should be done, but also about who should be deciding and for whom. It is these "should" issues that Davis examines using a fresh lens: Will our choice of reproductive technology affect the choices available to a child born using that technology?

As far back as the 1970s, when amniocentesis came into widespread use, it was clear that women's limited reproductive choices were already overwhelmingly painful, with no option costfree. Even then, we knew it was one thing to have some control over the number of children we would have—and for many, even this was an unavailable option—but quite another to have some say in the kind of children we would have. The latter seemed to place a particularly heavy burden on a woman, and make being either a parent or a child possibly and troublingly conditional.

In the decades since then, the burden of decision-making has only gotten heavier, and our social and ethical analyses of these issues have failed woefully to keep pace with the multiplicity and complexity of the choices offered to us by researchers and clinicians. Our daughters and sons have a forest of options and the compass Davis offers as an aid through this thicket provides a refreshing and stimulating, if not always successful, tool.

Borrowing the concept of an "open future" from the philosopher Joel Feinberg, Davis proposes that we evaluate reproductive and genetic options with regard to how they will ensure and protect the fullest autonomy for the childto- be. In brief, she wants us to assess our choices about the use of these technologies in terms of the choices they will permit our children to make, for example, about their own lives, education, employment, and procreation. Will using some technology now in childbearing expand or limit the choices that will be available to the children to be born?

A philosophical analysis of this position is beyond the scope of this brief review. It is perhaps sufficient to say that I found Davis's presentation sometimes persuasive, other times inadequate—if not inappropriate. Davis herself is aware that many may reject the open future lens she prescribes for working through the ethical thickets of genetic and reproductive technology, while others may dismiss the trail she marks out while using it. She graciously invites such objections. In fact, it is almost impossible, when reading this book, not to make frequent marginal notes expressing agreement and disagreement with her positions on issues such as choosing to have a child with a disability, choosing the sex of a child, and choosing to learn what genetic disorders threaten an unborn child. Whatever a reader concludes, all will benefit from Davis's shifting our focus from the decision-maker to the potential child about whom these prenatal, even preconceptional, decisions are being made.

Yet, welcome and important as this shift is, it remains problematic, since Davis generally ignores how an open future resides so much more in societal (i.e., political) than in individual parental decisions. Will our society allow entry to children of all kinds? How will we ensure a full range of choices to all women now and to all children? The structures of society we create collectively, the social and political arrangements we establish, determine whether all citizens in all their diversities have a full menu from which to choose and whether they are enabled to make the fullest range of choices.

Thus, although an "open future," rather like "unconditional love," is a powerful construct in thinking about what parents owe their children, it cannot be idealized out of context. It must be examined in terms of what, not just who, opens or closes a future; what societal conditions allow, and not just what limits are set by the choices or behaviors of parents. Unfortunately, Davis does not fully grapple with these questions. Nor does her lens always distinguish what might be a different—non-White/middle class—array of choices.

Using protection of the right to an open future as a lens through which to assess reproductive options made available (to some) by the new technologies does lead to a fresh view of the forest, but this tool alone cannot get us through the thicket of options. It appropriately expands our attention beyond simplistic arguments about individual autonomy and the "right" to choose, but it does not highlight sufficiently the determinants of the options available and of one's ability to select among them. And these contextual limitations on what most of us are enabled to do and to choose— what I have elsewhere called our "response-ability"—necessarily restrict the possible futures for most.

As I was finishing Genetic Dilemmas, the New York Times ran an Associated Press article that announced: "Starting in August, expectant couples can walk into an obstetrician's office and ask to be tested for any of 24 variations of the gene that causes cystic fibrosis."1 If nothing else, this news puts the matter of choice into a reality context. In the future, even more than at present, choices will be determined and futures opened and closed not by women making decisions about the use of genetic and reproductive technologies, but by insurance companies, medical healthcare providers, biotechnology and pharmaceutical companies, and government officials who determine the options put before us and set limits on our abilities to respond. Readers who keep these structural determinants in mind will have a rich engagement with Davis's easily read, highly accessible, and provocative (but not polemic) book. Others will at least have their conceptions of autonomy broadened if not challenged.
—Abby Lippman

NOTE
1. Leslie Gornstein, The Associated Press, "Panel: Gene Testing Not Ready for Prime Time," June 27, 2001.



Reformulating Professional Ethics

Ethics and Excuses: The Crisis in Professional Responsibility. Banks McDowell.
Westport, Conn: Quorum Books, 2000. 169 pp. $59.95 (Hardcover).

Some of us may be reluctant to read a book that asks us to take excuses seriously. This is not easy, accustomed as we are to thinking of excuses as ways to avoid responsibility. We want to promote a greater commitment to high ethical standards, and it seems counter intuitive that taking excuses seriously is a good way to do that.

Nevertheless, taking ethical excuses seriously can sometimes help us better understand the influences at work in the day-to-day lives of professionals. Taking excuses seriously is important, not because most excuses are legitimate ones, but because the study of excuses prepares both ethicists and professionals to address the most important and difficult issues in professional ethics today. McDowell leads the reader to reconsider the ways in which professional ethics are formulated.

We may suspect that someone who relies on people's excuses to reformulate professional ethics may also lower standards to the level of actual behavior. But that is not McDowell's agenda. He advocates reformulating professional ethics so that its standards and presentation can more effectively shape behavior and guide practice. The divergence between standards and practice is partly the result, he argues, of the failure by those teaching ethical duties to address the realities that professionals often face at work.

Excuses help to identify the nature of the gap between "ethical standards and the needs and the problems of contemporary professional practice." This gap is the crisis referred to in the subtitle. In chapters eight and nine, McDowell identifies some of the considerations that should influence the reformulation of professional ethics. The model or paradigm that has been used in developing professional ethics needs to be changed. The model of a lone professional who works as a generalist in a stable community, has long-term relationships with clients, and functions largely in one-on-one situations is no longer adequate. Most professionals today work in groups, often as specialists in bureaucratic organizations. The model of professionals as autonomous experts is no longer adequate; a better model recognizes that professionals often work in an organizational setting that stresses efficiency.

Professional ethics, McDowell suggests, must be reformulated with a better understanding of the context in which professionals work today. "It may seem incongruous to talk about the ethical conduct of a law firm, a hospital, a business corporation, or a governmental department, but that may be increasingly our only alternative." Professional ethics must recognize that responsibility has shifted from individuals to institutions and organizations. This does not mean that common business perspectives should determine the standards of professional ethics. Maintaining professionalism often requires, in fact, challenging accepted business and economic models.

McDowell challenges us with questions about the compatibility of common economic ideology with professional ethics. There is a clash of values between the dominant economic theory and professional ethics, but the clash has not been addressed adequately. It must be addressed if presentations of professional ethics are going to meet the needs of professionals. Moreover, social ethics, and a social justice orientation, should play a part in formulating and instilling business ethics.

McDowell's analysis of ethical excuses and his suggestions about the need to reformulate professional ethics are worth careful consideration. His emphasis on the importance of the organizational setting for professional ethics fits well with the growing recognition of the importance of organizational ethics in health care.
—Leonard J. Weber



Learning from Death

Compassion Sabbath: A Resource Kit. Midwest Bioethics Center and the Compassion Sabbath Task Force.
Kansas City, Mo.: Midwest Bioethics Center, 1999. $75.

The resource kit is a result of a pilot project held in the Kansas City metropolitan area in 1999, which sought to prepare faith leaders, their congregations, and the larger community to better minister to the spiritual needs of their seriously ill and dying members. Using a weekend model and a community approach, the materials prepared interested ministers to participate in the "Compassionate Sabbath" outreach held in February 2000.

Included in the three-ring, vinyl binder kit is a video "More Lessons From the Angel of Death"; a syllabus containing an introduction, an afterword, and five resource sections; the special issue of Bioethics Forum 16, no. 1 "Meditations by Wm. G. Bartholome"; and the "Caring Conversations" workbook and study guide.

The video presents William Bartholome giving a public lecture sponsored by the University of Kansas Medical Center's Department of History and Philosophy of Medicine. Bartholome, who died in 1999 of metastatic adenocarcinoma of the esophagus, spent the last five years of his life teaching an autopathographic lesson on the values of dying and living while dying. As Bartholome struggles to speak in the video, the talking-head camera angle does little to distract you from a straightforward, lengthy lecture, and it is only the compelling message that keeps one attentive.

Worship resources include materials from Christian, Jewish, Native American, Islamic, and Hindu traditions and are intended for Christian corporate worship and for private devotion. The citations are rich and varied giving ample selections for one to review.

The education/training section includes six sessions on "For Everything There is a Season—Faith Reflections on the End of Life" and five sessions on "Caring Conversations— More Lessons from the Angel of Death." Session plans include a reflection piece, discussion questions, leadership team preparation materials, and a timeline with content and suggested teaching methods. Resource pages complete each session.

The fifth section of the syllabus lists Kansas-area and national resources on grief, children, family, and end-of-life issues. Educating the reader about the Last Acts Coalition takes up the sixth section. The cochairs of the Compassion Sabbath Task Force write the afterword in which they restate the desire to provide "new tools and stratagems for religious leaders to inspire, educate, comfort, and console those who rely on them."

"Caring Conversations: Making your wishes known for end-of-life care" combines the spiritual lessons of Bartholome with workbook questions designed to engage a social ritual that helps persons plan for the end of life. The workbook lists frequently asked questions about advance directives. Workbook users are introduced to questions regarding personal relationships, spiritual/ religious values, healthcare decisions, career and work decisions, legal documents, and financial matters. Both "Advance Directives" and "A Durable power of Attorney for Healthcare Decisions" forms are enclosed.

As a resource kit, there are many materials here to choose from when designing a program or event of one's own. However, there is not a clear instructional design that incorporates the video, the special edition of the Bioethics Forum, the "Caring Conversations" Group Study Guide and Workbook, and the syllabus material. The parts remain separate, and the user must build a unified whole. The developers, however, have set forth a model of a community approach to handling this difficult topic, and this is the greatest contribution of the resource kit.
—Mary Ann Clemens



Bioethics Past, Present, and Future

The Nature and Prospect of Bioethics: Interdisciplinary Perspectives.
Franklin G. Miller, John C. Fletcher, and James M. Humber, eds.
Totowa, N.J.: Humana Press, 2003. 206 pp. $44.50 (Hardcover).

Retrospective assessments of bioethics are in vogue. The field is "old" enough (around 35, say most—not all—in this book) to offer the 21st-century surveyor some depth of perspective. This interdisciplinary collection employs retrospect in the service of prospect, and functions as a kind of introduction to the field. The editors' intended audience includes students and "even" degreed academics and practicing professionals in bioethics' contributing disciplines who lack an understanding of important aspects of the field.

The editors believe that many in these constituencies need a clearer picture of what bioethics is and what its practitioners do, how an aspiring bioethicist would prepare to "practice" in the field, and–presumably not least—why bioethics is a worthwhile profession. They recruited prominent scholars to trace the relationship between their respective disciplines and bioethics: John Arras (philosophy), James Childress (religion), Howard Brody (medicine), Eric Meslin (policy), Patricia Benner (nursing), Kathryn Montgomery (literary studies), and Tina Stevens (history).

Editors Miller, Fletcher, and Humber want to achieve four broad goals: examining the roots of bioethics in the several disciplines, showing how bioethics needs these disciplines if it is to "flourish," demonstrating "the value of bioethics as a profession," and indicating likely future directions in bioethics scholarship. There is some discrepancy between the needs attributed to the intended audience and the goals enunciated for the book itself. Will the reader, for example, really come away with a clear sense of what bioethicists—perhaps especially clinical bioethicists—do?

John Arras' opening chapter begins to allay such concerns. It provides a concise sketch of the field's clinical, policy, and academic emphases and their varying relationships to philosophy. Arras also offers constructive proposals for reframing and reclaiming the usefulness of philosophy for bioethics. While Arras speaks for the discipline that has been most influential in shaping bioethics, Kathryn Montgomery advocates for "genuine interdisciplinarity" as she offers a sustained critique of "medical ethics" in light of literature and literary theory. If some ethicists believe that bioethics is now largely a matter of applying known answers to clinical FAQs, Montgomery counters that the persistent reemergence in clinicians' experience of supposedly answered questions shows that, in fact, "most issues are far from settled."

Eric Meslin's illuminating presentation of the challenges of conducting policy analysis in governmental bioethics commissions provides a useful backdrop for James Childress' consideration of the role of religion and theology in public policy. Childress' chapter comes alive in this discussion, where he presses the argument that "religious perspectives and voices" have a legitimate, indeed important, role in "public reason" and the process of policy making. They can expand our moral imagination, advance moral positions that do not depend solely on underlying religious commitments, and articulate important features of the "background culture" (John Rawls) that will in any case influence public opinion on issues. (Childress adds, with equal conviction, that religious perspectives should not control the content of policy decisions or provide their public rationale.)

Appropriately, most of the "prospects" the authors propose are not claims for a likely bioethics future, but sketches of possible or desired futures for bioethics and their discipline's relationship to it. The editors' emphasis on identifying directions for future scholarship is mirrored in the tilt of most of the essays toward the academic world and its concerns rather than, say, the world of clinical practice. On the whole, this rich and wide-ranging collection deserves to be read by its intended audience as well as others interested in what bioethics is, how it got here, and where it may be headed.

One author's assessment of bioethics as a social phenomenon speaks particularly to "the value of bioethics as a profession." Those who wonder, and perhaps worry, whether bioethics has done—or can do—the good it sets out to do may be unsettled, as I was, by this observation from Tina Stevens: "[B]ioethics plays an important role in buttressing biomedical authority by midwifing the ultimate social acceptance of exotic biotechnological development." Stevens adds that the field has played an "‘ambiguous role'" (Charles Rosenberg) because "bioethics legitimizes authority by questioning it . . ."

The paradox of legitimizing while ostensibly criticizing dogs the field at least in part because bioethicists have ineluctably become allied with, and dependent upon, those who invite their "critical" advice. How to address this paradox, and the social and institutional relationships that shape it, is surely a central challenge for bioethics in this generation.
—David B. McCurdy


Second Opinion #11 Cover © 2004 by Park Ridge Center
Second Opinion #11

Publisher: Park Ridge Center, Chicago
Date: April, 2005.
ISSN: 0890-1570
105 pages.
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