The cloning of human beings is no longer a science fiction fantasy; it is within grasp. Should Jews embrace this technology, or should we condemn it? Are we about to bite into manna or forbidden fruit? Are we on the threshold of imitating God or committing idolatry?
Our answers to these questions may well be determined by our understanding of the biblical creation story, as both Genesis and genetics concern the creation of life. The opening verses of Genesis suggest two opposing interpretations: creation as a completed act and creation as a transformative process.
The Hebrew Bible begins, "Bereshit bara Elohim et hashamayim v'et haaretz..." This mysterious phrase is often translated as a declarative sentence: "In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth." According to this understanding of Genesis, God created the universe out of nothing, ex nihilo, by engaging in two primary activities: forming various elements and then dividing them from one another, each to have a distinct role. Light was separated from darkness; land was separated from sea; birds were to fly in the sky while fish were to swim in the sea. Each form of vegetation (i.e. plants and fruit-bearing trees) produced offspring of its own type (Gen. 1:11-12). God created two genders of humans; reproduction occurred through the union of a male and a female. And by the seventh day, "the heavens and the earth and all their hosts were complete" (Gen. 2:1). The structure of the universe had been established for all time.
If God created our world as a completed act, who are we to tamper with it? Who are we to create a better plan? If humans were created "in God's image" (Gen. 1:27), i.e. after God's likeness, how could that likeness be improved upon?
From this perspective, tampering with God's creation appears wrong. In the Bible, transgressing boundaries set by God constitutes a sin, subject to severe punishment. Eating the forbidden fruit leads to Adam and Eve's expulsion from Eden, and the sexual commingling of divine and human beings precurses the flood (Gen. 6:1-8). The importance of respecting boundaries is also applied to the structure of nature, including reproduction. Sex between humans and animals is forbidden, as is sex between two men (Lev. 18: 22-24; 20:12, 15-16). Crossbreeding animals or planting a field with different types of seed are prohibited (Lev. 19:19; Deut. 22:9). This concern for preserving the integrity of nature is applied even to clothing: it is forbidden to construct a garment of both linen and wool (Lev. 19:19, Deut. 22:12). Conversely, many biblical passages, such as those prohibiting work on Shabbat, indicate that holiness can be found through respecting boundaries. From an evolutionary perspective as well, cloning is a transgression of natural boundaries. The genetic structure of our world has evolved over three to four billion years into an interwoven and equilibrated system. Today we often use science to modify nature (e.g. medicines prolong life), but such modifications function within an existing evolutionary structure. In contrast, human cloning changes the very rules of the game of genetic evolution, a fearful notion. What if changing the rules of the game shatters the entire system?
A second interpretation of the first line in Genesis, however, suggests the opposite position on human cloning. The opening phrase may be translated as "When God began creating the heavens and the earth..." or "At the beginning of God's creation of the heavens and the earth..." Instead of seeing creation as a completed act with a particular structure lying at its heart, creation may be viewed as a continuing and transformative process. In this light, the miracle of creation is not limited to the product of six days of God's creation; it is also the process of God's moving the world from a chaotic nothingness to an ordered, life-bearing place. The Bible repeatedly emphasizes that God created things called "good" and "very good." God improved upon what had existed. Good purpose, and not a particular product, lies at the heart of creation.
But if good purpose lies at the heart of God's creation and we are fashioned in God's image, might we ourselves have a role to play as creators? Abraham is viewed as praiseworthy when he independently exercises his moral powers by arguing with God over the fate of Sodom and Gomorrah. Might we too be viewed as praiseworthy if we exercise our technological powers for the good? Jewish tradition teaches that it is permissible, even obligatory, to cure people of natural illnesses by medical means born of human ingenuity. Jews are called to worship God, not nature.
If creation is viewed as the transformative process of bettering our world--in which humans are to play a part--then, the question becomes: will we clone for good or evil? Rabbi Elliot Dorff writes, "Cloning, like all other technologies, is morally neutral. Its moral valence depends on how we use it." Drugs can be a blessing when used for medicinal purposes, or a curse when taken by addicts. Nuclear energy can help preserve our world by reducing our reliance upon fossil fuels, or it can be deployed in weapons of mass destruction.
Are there situations which would merit, if not morally oblige, the use of human cloning? Rabbi Moshe Tendler thinks yes. "Show me a young man who is sterile, whose family was wiped out in the Holocaust, and he is the last of a genetic line [and] I would certainly clone him." More commonly discussed cases include infertility (e.g. parents who could not otherwise reproduce seeking to clone tissue from their recently deceased newborn who has been killed in an accident) or the possibility of saving an existing life (e.g. cloning from an infant who has suffered severe kidney damage with the hope that the clone might someday willingly donate a kidney to the clonee).
If we believe that transforming what exists for the better lies at the heart of God's creation, then our view of human cloning will likely depend on whether we use human cloning to accomplish good or evil. But even if our motive for producing human clones is for the good, are we in some way creating second-class humans?
Perhaps no idea in history has done as much to protect and elevate the status of humans as the biblical view that humans were created by God "in God's image" (Gen. 1:27). As such, each human being is seen as priceless, unique, and of equal worth. Commenting on Creation, the rabbis who compiled the Mishna in c. 200 CE explained:
"For this reason was man created alone, to teach you that whoever destroys a single soul of Israel, Scripture imputes [guilt] to him as though he had destroyed a complete world; and whosoever preserves a single soul of Israel, Scripture ascribes [merit] to him as though he had preserved a complete world. Furthermore, [he was created alone] for the sake of peace among men, that one might not say to his fellow, 'My father was greater than thine,' ...[and] to proclaim the greatness of The Holy One, Blessed be He: for if a man strikes many coins from one mold, they all resemble one another, but The Supreme King of Kings, The Holy One, Blessed be He, fashioned every man in the stamp of the first man, and yet not one of them resembles his fellow" (Babylonian Talmud: Seder Nezikin).Perhaps more than any other scientific development, the possibility of human cloning forces us to reexamine each of these values.
The belief that humans are created in God's image is strongly tied to the conviction that each human life has infinite worth, that every individual created in God's image is priceless, indeed sacred. Whether reflected in laws as basic as prohibitions against murder and slavery or in efforts as heroic as organ transplantation, the pricelessness of every human life has long been a cornerstone of civilized society. In contrast, the devaluation of human life has too often resulted in tragedy.
The possibility of cloning challenges this belief in the preciousness of human life. If we clone our offspring, rather than seeing that offspring as created in the Divine image, we may increasingly view people as genetically replaceable objects of production. The art market provides analogies. An original oil painting may have great value, but copies of it (clones) generally have little worth. Objects that can be readily duplicated, such as photographs, usually sell for far less than those that cannot. In economic language, one might say that cloning increases the potential "supply" of each of us. Will the value of each of us fall? Perhaps the value of a human clone will depend on the number of copies made. If two genetically identical people are standing together, it is not difficult to think of each as having infinite worth; they do not appear any different from natural genetic twins. But if we were to view a thousand clones standing together, it might be more difficult to regard each as a priceless human being.
The very thought that one could be cloned is frightening to many, myself included. If I can be copied, what is so special about me?
One response is to deny that a naturally born individual and his/her clone are identical. Many point out that the clone would be raised in a different environment and at a different time from his/her clonee, and thus become a different person with a unique character. While some may find comfort in this response, it ignores the question of how important one's genetic structure is to one's particular behavior and to one's sense of self. The less one bases one's sense of identity upon one's physical characteristics, the less threatening the possibility of cloning becomes. Put differently, if I look in the mirror and see only my physical being, then my genetic duplicate--a physical copy--may destroy my sense of uniqueness. If, instead, I see something more than a physical being, then cloning will seem less alarming.
Cloning also forces us to ask how important uniqueness is to our sense of self. Do I become less of a person if copies of myself can be made? Martin Buber once argued that a person's "foremost task" is the actualization of his/her "unique, unprecedented and never-recurring potentialities." Perhaps we might revise this and say that a person's foremost task is simply the actualization of his/her potentialities, whether or not others possess those potentialities as well. I see no good reason to think we will become lesser human beings if others are born with capacities similar, if not identical, to our own.
The possibilities of human cloning and genetic engineering raise deep concerns about human equality. Will cloning be used to produce a basketball team of Michael Jordans or a university of Albert Einsteins? Will racist groups (e.g. neo-Nazis) use genetic engineering to produce a "master" race? Will governments decide to breed subservient citizens or aggressive soldiers? Will we regard persons produced by genetic engineering as better (with fewer "defects") or worse ("artificially bred" or "mere duplicates") than those produced by traditional reproduction? And how will they see themselves? Will they think of themselves as equal to others? Better? Worse? Ultimately, the value we attach to human life is a matter of morality, not genetics.
Just as the possibility of human cloning challenges our belief that humans are created in God's image, it also challenges our views of God. As the concept of God as our own creator is so important to our concept of God as Creator of the universe, it is likely that our views of God will change if we create clones in our own image.
Sensing God's hand in the uncertain and mysterious is relatively easy, but sensing God in what we ourselves create and control may be difficult. By removing randomness, uncertainty, and mystery, cloning may weaken our belief that humans are created in the image of the Divine. On the other hand, cloning may increase our awe of God. Instead of viewing God as a distant Creator who formed our world long ago, perhaps we will see God as the Power of Creation and recognize that we too possess a share of that power. If asked: are we "playing God" by engaging in cloning, we might reply: "Yes, for God is in us too."
A shift in our notion of God from a distant one-time Creator to the ongoing source of Creative Power may also trigger a shift in our view of God as Sovereign (or "Ruler" or "King"). If God is seen as the Creator of human life, then God's sovereignty over humans may be easy to accept, as we accept an artist's ownership of the works s/he creates and a parent's dominion over a child. But if we view ourselves as autocreative, will we still see God as Sovereign? If God's sovereignty is derived not from the view of God as an external power demanding obedience, perhaps it will be seen as requiring the responsible exercise of the Godliness within ourselves. Though at first such a view may seem arrogant, I do not believe it is. Recognizing that responsibilities attach to the powers we have and accepting those responsibilities may form the basis of a more mature understanding of ourselves, of God, and of God's sovereignty. The Baal Shem Tov taught that there are two types of fruit in the world: fruit that grows in vineyards, and fruit that grows in the wild. Vineyard-grown fruit is usually large, shapely, tasty, and consistent. Fruit grown in the wild tends to be blemished, but it is often sweet and flavorful. How do these two types of fruit compare? Both are pleasing in God's eyes.
In time, we may well see a world where many people will be cloned or genetically engineered, while others will be created through traditional means. I believe both will be pleasing in God's eyes.
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