Life-Extension in Transhumanist and Christian perspectives:
Consonance and Conflict
Todd Daly
School of Divinity, University of Edinburgh
Journal
of Evolution and Technology - Vol. 14 Issue
2 - August 2005 - pgs 69-87
http://jetpress.org/volume14/daly.html
PDF Version
Abstract
The development of genetics and genetic technologies are
bringing us closer to the possibility of greatly extending the
human lifespan by significantly slowing the aging process.
Eliminating the deleterious effects of aging through such
technologies is one of the primary tenets of transhumanist
philosophy, which actively seeks to improve and transcend the
human condition as defined in part by our mortality. This paper
explores the areas of consonance and conflict between
Transhumanist Philosophy and orthodox Christian Theology
concerning the goal of greatly extending the human lifespan by
examining the origins of the modern biomedical movement and the
Christian contribution to the current search for
greatly-extended lives. These areas of consonance and conflict
involve: (1) death as an enemy (2) the dissatisfaction with the
current state of humanity, and (3) nature as a process of
unfolding, and will be investigated by interacting with
Christian theologian and defender of life-extension Ronald
Cole-Turner, as well as the writings of the Swiss theologian
Karl Barth.
Killing Death
In Nick Bostrom’s The Fable of the Dragon-Tyrant,
we find a compelling parable describing humanity’s struggle against
an utterly unassailable dragon, whose hideous jaws produce a steady
flow of putrid yellowish-green slime as it daily devours its meal of
live human flesh. Though the dragon’s insatiable appetite for humans
exacts a heavy toll on the planet’s population, people have come to
accept the fact that one day they will be food for the dragon. In an
effort to preserve life as long as possible and at the same time
democratize death, only the oldest are sacrificed to the dragon,
herded every night onto a cargo train leading straight to the
dragon’s abode. It is widely acknowledged that if the priests,
magicians, and warriors of the past could not kill the evil dragon,
then there was little reason to believe that they could. The King
too is convinced that killing the dragon is technologically
impossible, persuaded by the sages’ wisdom that finitude is a
blessing in life, and occupied with more immediate concerns. Over
time however, the King becomes convinced that the dragon might be
defeated through the use of new technology, and approves the immense
plan to destroy the dragon. Though requiring several years of
Herculean-like effort and costing millions of dollars and lives, a
special armor-piercing missile is finally developed that eventually
kills the dragon. Great celebrations ensue as people realize that
the awful daily ransom was now at an end, and people realize that an
unlimited future now lay open before them. Though such a future
presents numerous potential difficulties, people are up to the task
of thinking new thoughts, and dreaming new dreams to meet the
challenges that are posed not by death, but by life. That biggest
source of dread—human decline and death—has finally been
annihilated.
Until the last decade or so, most credible scientists likened the
possibility of slowing or eliminating human aging to a fable.
However, current techniques like selective breeding, caloric
restriction and genetic manipulation have shown that human aging may
be the next process to surrender to our control. It has already been
shown that altering a single gene in the nematode worm C.-elegans
has produced a seven-fold increase in its lifespan.
Biologist Andrezej Bartke has extended the lifespan of a laboratory
mouse by seventy percent with a combination of genetic alteration
and caloric restriction.
The remarkable thing about many of these laboratory experiments is
that these extended life spans have been accompanied by extended
periods of health and vitality, assuaging fears of
prolonged senescence and physiological decline. We have moved a step
closer to the possibility of growing much older without the nasty
side-effects of aging. But these advances have not come without
controversy.
Techno-optimists vs. the “Radical Mortalists”
In light of these scientific developments, the question of whether
we can slow aging is being gradually replaced by the question
of whether we should slow aging. The battle lines are
typically drawn between transhumanists on the one hand, and those
with religious convictions on the other. Yet, the line of separation
is not that clear. Certainly, while the significant; if not
indefinite expansion of the human lifespan is a key tenet in
transhumanist philosophy, one need not be a transhumanist to be in
favor of a longer, healthier life.
Similarly, one’s religious convictions need not rule out the
indefinite expansion of earthly life. Nor does this require
transhumanist philosophy to be antithetical to belief in God or
other theistic convictions.
Unfortunately,
the debates over this issue have produced more than a few unhelpful
caricatures of the opposing position. But it would be just as wrong
to say that the desire to indefinitely extend life is a hubristic
transhumanism dream stemming from techno-optimism as it would to
label opponents as dim-witted “radical mortalitsts.”
Indeed, transhumanist’s invoke moral language in arguing their case,
as is clear in Bostrom’s clever portrayal of aging as the ultimate
enemy of humanity. The ‘moral’ of his story makes this abundantly
clear. “Searching for a cure for aging is not just a nice thing that
we should perhaps one day get around to. It is an urgent, screaming
moral imperative.”
Doubtless, there have been many objections to this goal from
differing religious and theological perspectives. The reverberations
of these objections result from a collision of worldviews that
differ significantly from one another. Yet, when we consider the
historical roots of current attempts to greatly extend the human
lifespan, we discover not only that the prolongation of human life
was a primary goal at the birth of modern biomedicine, but also that
many of biomedicine’s proponents held Christian convictions.
Consequently, the topic of life extension affords us one opportunity
of examining the points of consonance and conflict between
transhumanist philosophy and orthodox Christian theology, which, in
its broadest sense can be characterized as affirming the centrality
of the birth, death, resurrection and ascension of Jesus Christ—God
‘in the flesh’—and his eventual return to judge the living and the
dead in the final establishment of his kingdom. It is hoped that an
examination of these points of consonance and conflict might suggest
areas of future dialog in hopes that each tradition might benefit
from a critique from a different perspective. To this end, we will
examine the history regarding the significant extension of the human
lifespan in the key figures of Bacon, Descartes, and the early
American health reformers in an effort to demonstrate the distinctly
Christian contribution to the birth of the modern search for
longevity. Then we will turn our attention to a contemporary
Christian theologian and proponent of life extension in Ronald
Cole-Turner in hopes of uncovering specific areas of consonance and
conflict between Christian theology and transhumanism.
The scientific battle against aging
It may seem odd that some of the earliest attempts to slow aging and
put off death come from within the Christian tradition. Yet, we find
that Franciscan Roger Bacon argued in his thirteenth-century work
De Retardatione Accidentum Senectutis, that aging and
death could be put off through a scientific investigation of the
aging process whereby nature’s hidden forces were uncovered.
This involved a hygienic regime where particular attention was paid
to cleanliness and a limited food intake, and the ingestion of
certain medicines. David Aers
observes that “this strand within the Catholic cultures of the
Middle Ages seems to share some hopes and perspectives with modern
medical technologies.”
The desire to prolong life later found proponents in the figures of
Francis Bacon and Descartes.
Descartes too clearly believed that advances in science would make
longer life possible, though he had no specific methodology for
longevity. Indeed, many of his comments betray overriding concern
for death and the afterlife given his desire for bodily longevity
and arguments for the soul’s immortality.
Descartes held the preservation of health as “undoubtedly the
foremost good and the foundation for all the other goods of this
life.”
Much like his forbear Roger Bacon, he hoped that increasing
knowledge of the created order would yield great progress and
provide the primary means by which human longevity could be greatly
extended. Through such knowledge,
. . . we could avoid many infirmities,
both of mind and body, and perhaps even the decline of old age, if
we had enough knowledge of their causes and of all the remedies that
nature has provided for us.
In another work he expresses his enthusiasm: “. . . I believe it may
be possible to find many very sound precepts for the cure of
diseases and for their prevention and also even for the retardation
of aging. . . .”
Descartes however, held out no hope for an earthly immortality,
given his belief in an immortal soul. Indeed, in admitting that the
body must eventually die, Descartes sought solace from the fear of
death in the soul’s incorruptibility and utter independence of the
human body. Second only to the error of the denial of God’s
existence, claimed Descartes, was the belief that the soul, like
that of an animal, expires with the body at death.
. . . there is none that more readily
leads weak minds away from the straight path of virtue than to
imagine that the soul of beasts has the same nature as ours, and,
consequently, that we have nothing to fear or hope for, after this
life, any more than flies or ants.
Yet, it appears that Descartes’ Christian convictions left him
oscillating between his pursuit of earthly prolongevity through the
manipulation of nature on the one hand and the ethical
mission of submitting to the structure of the world and the
limits of nature on the other.
This is most readily apparent when one looks at his provisional
morality system which consisted of four maxims, the third of which
was “to change my desires rather than the structure of the
world”—essentially, making a virtue of necessity.
In this way, one would no longer desire to make external reality
conform to one’s desires—including the desire to have a body of
extreme durability.
Thus, by making a virtue of necessity,
as they say, we would no more wish to be healthy when we are sick,
or to be free when we are in prison, than we currently desire to
have a body made from matter which is as durable as diamonds or to
have wings like a bird for flying.
Hence, in Descartes’ thought, there is a tension between his desire
for a body as ‘durable as diamonds,’ and controlling his mind which
has given rise to such a desire. Philosopher Gerald J. Gruman sees
an oscillation in Descartes between manipulating nature and
accepting it as it is, attributing it to Descartes’ religious
convictions. He observes that Descartes’ disciples defended him
against the charge of impiety due to his endeavors in longevity.
Certainly, Descartes himself placed a high value on Holy Scripture,
having sought approval for his Meditations on First Philosophy
from the theological faculty at Sorbonne.
Descartes’ personal correspondences however, reveal a fear of death
that is assuaged somewhat by his proof that the soul lives on. In a
private correspondence, he writes that the soul’s immortality,
. . . I have found to be very powerful,
not only to make me bear patiently the death of those I loved, but
also to prevent me from fearing my own, although I belong to those
who love life very much. It consists in the view of the nature of
our souls, of which I believe I know so clearly that they outlast
the body, and that they have been born for joys and bliss much
greater than those we enjoy in this world, that I cannot conceive of
those who die anything else but that they go to a life more peaceful
and sweet than ours, and that we are going to rejoin them someday .
. .
Several years later, Descartes’ theological convictions appeared to
win the day. In a 1646 letter to Chanut, he conceded “instead of
finding means to conserve life I have found another, an easier and
surer one, which is not to fear death.”
Hence, while Descartes held great hopes for science and the
prolongation of life through mastery of nature, his belief in the
afterlife tempered both his fear of death and his prolongevitist
prognostications, primarily through his belief in the soul’s
immortality.
Francis Bacon appeared less encumbered by theological convictions
and even more optimistic towards increasing control over nature
through scientific progress. Central among Bacon’s melioristic
program was prolongevity. In his Advancement of Learning
Bacon criticized physicians for ignoring the prolongation of life,
asserting instead that prolongevity was the most noble goal of
medicine.
For if such a thing [prolongevity] may
be discovered, the business of medicine will no longer be confined
to humble cures, nor will physicians be honoured only for necessity;
but for a gift to men—of earthly gifts perhaps the greatest—of
which, next to God, they may become the dispensers and
administrators.
His methods involved drugs which condensed the body’s vital
moisture, herbal treatments for bodily restoration and regeneration,
and special baths for rejuvenation.
Yet Bacon also had to defend his actions against the charge of
impiety, arguing for the advantages of longevity in making journey
towards our heavenly home:
. . . although to a Christian making for
the Land of Promise the world is but a wilderness, yet even while we
travel in the wilderness to have our shoes and garments (that is our
bodies, which are as the clothing of the soul) not worn out by the
way, must be accounted as a gift of divine grace.
According to Gruman, Bacon’s largest contribution to longevity
research was not so much in his methodology or originality, but in
bringing prestige to the idea of prolongevitism,
or a significant extension of human life by human action.
Both Bacon’s and Descartes’ contribution to modern science can
hardly be underestimated. Indeed, at least one writer has dubbed the
modern biomedical project designed to relieve the human condition
and expand choice as the “Baconian Project.”
American health reformers
Who does not know that the time of man’s
death, as far as he himself is concerned, is a matter of entire
contingency; that his days may be lengthened or shortened by his own
conduct; that years, or scores of years, may be added to or
subtracted from, his life, through the instrumentality of his own
agency.
Such revivalist theology emphasized
the human involvement in salvation and sanctification, providing a
suitable spiritual counterpart to a health reform movement that
stressed behaviour in accordance with God’s natural laws. This lead
to what Cole has termed a dualistic vision of aging and death, where
a long life followed by a ‘natural death’ was attained by obedience
to God’s laws, while a bad, early, or disease-ridden death became
associated with sin and disobedience.
Cole cites at least three examples of the shifting attitudes in
health reform in the figures of William Alcott, Sylvester Graham,
and Orson S. Fowler. William Alcott claimed that if one wanted to
lengthen his life that he must obey the laws of God, claiming that
disease could be eliminated by Christian physiology and
hygiene, allowing one to approach the age of the biblical figure
Methuselah, who lived more than 900 years (Genesis 5:27).
If Methuselah suffered from what we call
the infirmities of age, it was his own fault. God, his Creator,
never intended it. The very common belief, that old age necessarily
brings with it bodily infirmities, besides being a great mistake,
reflects dishonor on God.
Alcott denied that old age was always accompanied by the
wretchedness of physiological decline, insisting “whenever it is
wretched, it is made so by sin.”
Similarly, Sylvester Graham, who began his career as a Presbyterian
minister, said “the true principles of health and longevity, and the
true principles of virtue and religion are inseparable. . .”
Graham was so confident that he predicted the return of antediluvian
life spans (e.g. like those of Methuselah) within a few generations.
Thus, here we have claims not that the physical and spiritual were
independent, but that they worked in harmony. Cole observes that
Graham taught that this harmony allowed one to pursue bodily health
without damaging one’s spiritual welfare.
Finally, Orson S. Fowler, author of Practical Phrenology, saw
a direct connection between morality and longevity.
If, therefore, it is wicked to shorten
life, then it is wicked to impair the health; for such impairment is
but diminishing life, and inviting and hastening death.
Thus, in the writings of Graham, Alcott, and Fowler, we see almost a
near equivalency between long life and morality. Moral behavior was
in part associated with paying particular attention to one’s bodily
health, and therefore granted use of a host of remedies and
strategies for promoting health and longevity, including
vegetarianism, temperance, sexual restraint, phrenology, fresh air
and exercise.
Over time however, it became clear
that while hygienic practices might increase one’s health, they were
essentially inefficacious in retarding aging itself. Thus, the
predictions of a return to biblical, antediluvian life spans through
hygienic practices and moral living have shown to be greatly
exaggerated. Indeed, the disciplines of geriatrics, gerontology and
biogerontology have demonstrated that any serious hope of extending
the healthy lifespan is likely to be found in slowing or reversing
the human aging process through genetic technology, whether it be
somatic or germ-line manipulation, pharmocogenetics, or
nanotechnology.
What this brief historical survey
reveals is that the desire to extend human longevity via medicine
and technology is not an idea unique to transhumanist philosophy.
Moreover, it demonstrates that uncovering the laws of the nature for
the purposes of greatly extending life is not the sole property of a
naturalistic worldview, which by definition eliminates the
possibility of a divine being interacting with creation.
On the contrary, as we have seen it was generally believed that the
uncovering of God’s laws governing the universe would eventually
allow a return to life spans of biblical proportions. However, while
their desire to extend the human lifespan finds a contemporary
expression in current transhumanist philosophy, their proposed
methods are recognized today as largely ineffective. Indeed, with
the completion of the Human Genome Project and daily developments in
genetic engineering in general, the methodology for greatly extended
lives is vastly different from the methods prescribed by the fathers
of the modern biomedical project. The other key difference lies in
the fact that transhumanist prolongevity is obviously unfettered by
the Christian doctrines that appeared to give Descartes and Bacon
some difficulty. The belief in the immortality of the soul (which is
not necessarily explicitly a Christian doctrine) and the promise of
eternity created a fair amount of tension for both men. Their
struggle to reconcile belief in the afterlife with the pursuit of a
longer earthly life left unanswered the question as to whether life
extension was a goal compatible within a Christian worldview where
God is the creator, reconciler, and redeemer of humankind.
We have seen therefore, that
longevity was around at the birth of modern science (indeed, even
well before), and even situated—albeit uneasily—within a Christian
worldview. However, in exploring any resonance between Christian and
transhumanist worldviews with respect to extending the human life
span, it would of course be much more helpful if we had contemporary
examples from which to draw. At least one attempt has been offered
from Christian theologian Ronald Cole-Turner, who sees the use of
genetic technology to overcome human suffering as firmly rooted in
the concepts of God’s ongoing activity in sustaining and redeeming
creation, including the prospect of extending the human lifespan.
Therefore, in order to uncover points of agreement and disagreement
between theology and transhumanism concerning life extension, it is
worth briefly exploring Cole-Turner’s theological warrants with
regard to the use of genetic technology before looking at his
arguments for extending life.
A Christian argument for life extension?—Ronald Cole-Turner
Central to Cole-Turner’s theological defense for the use of genetic
engineering in general is God’s continuing creative and redeeming
activity in the world. He wishes to affirm the Christian tradition
that nature is good, yet in disorder, finding unnecessary the idea
that this disorder occurred due to Adam and Eve’s sin in the garden
of Eden. Thus, “the earth is not exactly what God intends it to be,
nor is it the home God intends for human beings.”
The science of genetics tells us, in part, how our nature can be
viewed as defective. Therefore, “in a very general way, this
supports the traditional theological notion of the disordered self.”
In order to find out how we are to behave in redeeming the world, we
turn to the example set forth by Jesus. Cole-Turner asserts that the
creative and redemptive purposes of God “are disclosed in the
relationship between Jesus Christ and nature.”
Thus, the Gospels portray a Jesus who took delight in nature, but
also altered nature in order to restore it.
Hence, he affirms the classical Christian doctrine of creation as
good, yet flawed. It is in the actions of Jesus Christ where we find
a framework for evaluating genetic defects.
Specifically, says Cole-Turner, these defects are skin diseases,
mental and neurological disorders, losses in hearing, sight, the
usage of limbs among other unnamed diseases.
Therefore, what counts as a defect—whether on the genetic or some
other level—can be discerned “in reference to God’s intentions.”
Therefore, “that which is defective is that which may be changed or
altered” by technology.
Thus, genetic engineering can be viewed theologically as redemptive
and creative technology. But in addition to treating diseases says
Cole-Turner, another goal of our participation in God’s created
order is our assistance in unfolding what he calls “new dimensions
of existence.”
CoCreators and
Creatio Continua
The basis for these new dimensions of existence is found the twin
ideas of creatio continua and cocreation. In his final
chapter, he explores the logic of genetic engineering as a metaphor
for God’s creative activity. Cole-Turner notes three affirmations of
general agreement among theologians: (1) creation is an evolutionary
process where God is continually active, (2) God’s omnipresence
continuously affects creation at every level, and (3) creation’s
future is still uncertain—God has not guaranteed its outcome.
Together, these affirmations comprise what he terms creatio
continua, a ‘continuous creation,’ defined as “a divine action
of influencing, of working through, of calling forth, and of
offering new possibilities to all creatures.”
The primary question for humanity is to figure out to what extent,
through our understanding and technological abilities, will we serve
God the creator in this ongoing creative creativity. Here, he
introduces his second tenet entitled co-creation.
“Human work, especially our technology,” asserts Cole-Turner, “may
be seen as a partnership with God in the continuing work of
creation.”
To ground the notion of our partnership with God’s creative
activity, Cole-Turner turns to the creation accounts at the
beginning of Genesis. Wary of the possible accusations of ‘playing
God’ associated with the term ‘co-creator,’ he modifies it by
focusing on God’s redemptive purpose in nature, devoting particular
attention to the second of the two creation accounts (the Yahwist
account) in Genesis 2:4-25.
While the first creation account (Genesis 1:1-2:3) shows humanity as
the final act and pinnacle of God’s creative activity, the Yahwist
creation account describes Adam and Eve as already present while God
continues his creative activity. Cole-Turner asserts that God
placed man and women in Garden because there was no one to till the
ground, suggesting humanity’s cooperation with God in the very act
of creation, and thus authorizing human beings to create in the
natural order.
“The Yahwist sees the human work of tilling the ground as something
upon which God’s own creative work depends.”
Moreover, “if God plants, then our activity of planting takes
on a new meaning, for we begin to see ourselves as participating in
an activity of God.”
He concludes by asking, “If the Yahwist could say that God planted a
garden, can we not say that God engages in genetic engineering? . .
. Can we picture the creativity of God through the metaphor of our
own abilities to alter genetic materials?”
This question must elicit a positive answer, asserts Cole-Turner, an
answer consistent with centuries of Christian tradition.
While acknowledging that we can use genetic technology for purposes
contrary to God’s will, he seems to minimize this possibility.
Cole-Turner summarizes the metaphor of God’s engagement in genetic
engineering as follows:
Cole-Turner derives theological warrant for using genetic technology
not only for the cure of disease, but, as we have seen, for ‘new
dimensions of existence’ through the notions of co-creatorship and
creatio continua, where we act as co-participators in God’s
ongoing redemptive and creative work in the world. Though God does
indeed work through natural processes, God can also work through
genetic engineering, so long as such activity fits within God’s
redemptive plan for the universe in the renewal of all things.
Having considered the framework of Cole-Turner’s arguments regarding
genetic technology, it appears that he would be in favor of
extending the human lifespan by the use of such technology. We turn
now to his thoughts on extending the human lifespan.
Somewhat surprisingly, Cole-Turner’s endorsement of life extension
is found among some of his more public doubts and concerns regarding
the potential abuses of genetic technology, particularly, that
genetic technology may be used to facilitate a rejection of
creation and Creator.
When he considers the possibility of extending life in light of the
recent successes with laboratory animals, he wonders whether we will
do this with our own descendents, wondering why we shouldn’t enhance
intelligence, height, skin tone or mood.
Yet, he appears wary of life extension and other human genetic
modifications.
Moreover, he revisits the idea of cocreation in an apparent attempt
to distance himself from the possible solipsistic overtones inherent
in the notion of relieving the pain of being human. “The real reason
‘cocreation’ is troubling is not our smallness or weakness but our
selfishness. Do we human beings, in fact, move creation forward, . .
. toward its true completion as God’s creation?”
Thus, he acknowledges that there is in the human condition an innate
tendency towards egocentrism.
But it is unclear what our
self-assertion against creation might look like, especially if
creation is still an ongoing process, a creatio continua.
Nevertheless, despite the potential
abuses for which we might use genetic technology and our tendency
towards egocentrism, Cole-Turner concludes that these possible
abuses do not warrant a ban on aging research. On the contrary, he
looks forward to the fact that one day technology will allow us to
“add to or alter life on earth,” as we learn to use genetic
technology not for our own selfish ends, but for God’s glory.
Any lingering ambiguity on his stance towards extending human life
by slowing aging was dispelled at the 2002 “Extended Life, Eternal
Life” conference, where he asserted that extended life might lead to
collective spiritual growth and understanding, offering “an
opportunity for a kind of blossoming of our humanity that has not
yet been obtained.”
Therefore, Cole-Turner is in favor of using genetic (or possibly
some other) technology to extend the human lifespan, so long as a
prolonged life is lived in harmony with God’s goal of redeeming the
created order. Cole-Turner grounds all genetic activity to relieve
the human condition in the fact that we are cocreators with God as
God continually sustains and creates (creatio continua).
Thus, in Cole-Turner we have what could be properly termed a
Christian theological argument for life-extension that mirrors the
earlier sentiments of Bacon and Descartes.
Whether or not Cole-Turner could be described as a transhumanist
however, is highly dubious.
Though Cole-Turner is in favor of muting the aging process with
genetic or some other technology, it is clear that he is not a
transhumanist. His earlier reservation concerning the uses to which
genetic technology might be put makes this quite clear, and is worth
a second look:
What begins as a technology to relieve
human pain becomes a technology to relieve the pain of being human.
The use of technology to ‘relieve the pain of being human,’ and
indeed, to surpass the present state of humanity appears to sum up
basic transhumanist philosophy. Cole-Turner’s statement reflects a
tension between relieving pain and preserving our humanness that is
largely absent in transhumanist dogma. Cole-Turner is anxious about
protecting our humanness, while transhumanism is eager to
leave our humanity behind. Indeed, while this tension is
often expressed with the therapy/enhancement distinction, Bostrom
observes that transhumanism avoids this distinction altogether, and
thus “denies any fundamental ethical importance to this
distinction.”
But for those like Cole-Turner who wish to preserve the
therapy/enhancement, things are not so simple. The crux of the
distinction lies in one’s understanding of what it means to be
human, which takes on an increasingly important role in light of
our ever-expanding technological capabilities.
How and where Cole-Turner might decide where to draw the line on
human enhancements is not entirely clear, even though he situates
his support for extending human life within a Christian framework.
Yet, being human from a Christian perspective means that our
understanding comes from the humanity Jesus Christ.
As Swiss theologian Karl Barth noted, “his death, resurrection and
coming again are the basis of absolutely everything that is to be
said about man and his future, end and goal in God.”
It was Christ who took on flesh, becoming a man in a finite body and
succumbing to death on a cross—even as he healed the sick and
occasionally brought the dead back to life—whose life affirms the
inherent goodness of embodiment and the finitude this entails.
Moreover, the fact that Jesus rose bodily that we too might
receive a resurrection body suggests that the use of technology to
transcend our limitedness in time by slowing aging itself is
misguided. Thus, from a Christian perspective, any distinguishing
between human and post-human is best put in terms of human
embodiment, as understood in the person of Jesus Christ, and our
desire to transcend the limits that our body pose, most notably the
limit of time. Indeed, one key difference between Christian theology
and transhumanist philosophy is the moral or normative force of
embodiment as a key criterion for humanness.
Despite significant conflicts in philosophies however, there are
points within these disparate worldviews on which transhumanists and
Christian theologians might agree. Cole-Turner’s support of
life-extension within a Christian worldview affords us an
opportunity to discuss potential points of agreement. I will briefly
discuss several points of consonance between Christian theology and
transhumanist philosophy, illustrating at the same time the
boundaries whereby consonance becomes conflict. At least three areas
which share commonality are: death as an enemy, a dissatisfaction
with our current human condition, and the idea of nature as a
process.
Death as an enemy
Both Christian theology and transhumanist philosophy perceived death
as the enemy. Though Bostrom’s Fable depicts aging as an insatiable
dragon-tyrant, feeding on the daily ransom of a hundred-thousand
live humans, it is clear that death is the real enemy, given that
aging can only culminate in death. That transhumanist philosophy
considers death an enemy worth battling at all costs is indicated by
Bostrom’s disdain for what he calls ‘deathist’ narratives and
ideologies that do nothing more than “counsel passive acceptance,”
that erect “reckless and dangers barriers to urgently needed
action.”
Death appears to be an enemy in transhumanist thought because it
represents a premature foreclosure of the opportunities for human
and post-human flourishing. The increasing levels of personal
development opening up new levels of consciousness and new ways of
being—even if they are currently inchoate or presently unimaginable
to us—are denied by the tyrant death. Death becomes even more
unwanted given that the flowering of new modes of being appears to
require, at least initially, a much longer life. We will need much
more time to reach our full potential.
We can conceive, in the abstract at
least, of organisms and aesthetic-contemplative pleasures whose
blissfulness vastly exceeds what any human has yet experienced. We
can imagine beings that reach a much greater level of personal
development and maturity than humans do, because they have the
opportunity to live for hundreds or thousands of years with full
bodily and psychic vigor.
Christian theology views death as an enemy as well. Though the Old
Testament displays a certain ambivalence towards death and the span
of life, death is clearly spoken of in negative terms. Moreover,
there appears to be a biblical warrant for Bostrom’s
characterization of death as an evil tyrant. Philip Johnston has
noted that in the Old Testament, “more commonly death is seen as a
bitter enemy of life. It is often portrayed in personified terms as
a hunter with traps and snares, a marauding shepherd, an
insatiable glutton . . .”
Though death is also spoken of as fitting after a long life, and is
even desired by those experiencing intense suffering (Job 3:21-22),
in general death was considered an enemy.
In the New Testament Jesus raised several people from the
dead—Lazarus (John 11), a widow’s son (Luke 7), and Jairus’ daughter
(Mark 6) to name a few—indicating that death indeed is an enemy.
Moreover, Apostle Paul makes it abundantly clear in his first letter
to the Corinthians that death is an enemy: “The last enemy to be
destroyed is death.”
While both transhumanist thought and Christian theology view death
as an enemy, it must be pointed out that death is an enemy in
Christian thought because it separates one from God. However, in the
person of Jesus Christ and his resurrection, death is not just an
enemy, but a defeated enemy. Though the full vanquishing of
death awaits future completion, the fact that Lazarus was raised by
Jesus, but eventually experienced death (again!), points to the
final resurrection where death will be ‘swallowed in victory.’
(Isaiah 25:8, 1 Corinthians 15:54). This does not, and indeed
should not mean that eternal life is offered as a panacea for
the fear of death, or as a simple coping mechanism, as is often the
criticism of Christianity at this point. As theologian Diogenes
Allen rightly observes, “Christianity does not offer an afterlife
to meet the fear of this life’s coming to an end.”
The ultimate defeat of death will mean the defeat of the ‘unreality’
of our lives presently as marred by sin. Thus, “the motivation to
seek eternal life is not to escape death, but to escape the
unreality of one’s present position for that which is true.”
Thus, while transhumanist philosophy and Christian theology share
the concept of death as an enemy, they do so for different reasons.
Moreover, while Christian theology views death as an enemy, it also
views death as a defeated enemy—not ultimately through technology,
but through the power of Christ.
It is important to point more specifically what is meant by this
defeat of death as spoken of by Paul.
There are indeed many ways to ‘defeat’ death: one might
renounce the desire for life on this earth, or invest in one’s
posterity, or even use death as a stimulus to embrace life to the
fullest. But the defeat of death that Paul speaks of is a personal
and bodily resurrection from the dead. Yet it is crucial to realize
here that the victory achieved over
death by Christ involved first his succumbing to death on the
cross. The demonstration of his victory over death was achieved
three days later. Similarly, our death awaits us a no less of a
conclusion, a finis to our earthly existence as we sink into
non-being. This makes our dying no
less tragic or terrifying as we head for non-existence. Yet, for
Christians, “death no longer is the boundary of finiteness and the
history of the human person.”
Thus, our hope for defeating death is not to be found through the
use of technology, but in the person of Christ, who meets us beyond
the limit of our death and holds us embodied in relationship to
himself.
If we did not have to do with the
definitive end of human life, we should not have to do with its
resurrection and definitive co-existence with that of God. Anxious
defiance of one’s own end could only mean the forfeiture of one’s
destiny. Since Jesus did not love His life and thus rescued our life
from destruction, we are invited to accept the limit of the life
which He has rescued, and therefore to acquiesce in the fact that we
must have an end, and to set our hope wholly and utterly in Him.
A sense that things are ‘not as they should be’
Secondly, within both transhumanist philosophy and Christian
theology there is a palpable sense of longing to transcend the
limits of the human condition. There is currently something wrong
with the world, where suffering, disease, and decay are part of
human existence that demand more than our passive acceptance. We
find such thoughts expressed in the writings of Paul, a similar
desire to escape his body of flesh, flesh that is wracked by disease
and suffering, the flesh that, in Paul’s terms, ‘is wasting away’ (2
Corinthians 4:16). It is not difficult to see transhumanist
philosophy as the latest manifestation of the desire inherent in all
of nature, the desire to transcend the human condition.
The Apostle Paul reminds the church at Corinth of the heavenly
dwelling that awaits, all the while acknowledging the struggle of
living in the world, the struggle which evokes a primal groan, and
longing for the perfection that comes with immortality (2
Corinthians 5:2-4).
Meanwhile, we groan, longing to be clothed with our heavenly
dwelling, because when we are clothed, we will not be found naked.
For while we are in this tent, we groan and are burdened, because we
do not wish to be unclothed but clothed with our heavenly dwelling,
so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life.
Elsewhere, Paul widens the scope of this groaning to all of
creation, as he expresses the hope for our adoption as children of
God, and the redemption of our bodies (Romans 8:22-25).
We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of
childbirth right up to the present time. Not only so, but we
ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as
we wait eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our
bodies. For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no
hope at all. Who hopes for what he already has? But if we hope for
what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.
One can sense Bostrom’s “groanings” over the limitations which
humans currently possess, most especially the decline that comes
with aging, the painful decline towards death which becomes an
‘urgent, screaming moral imperative.’ Similar sentiments are
expressed with Cole-Turner’s desire to slow aging and thereby
relieve suffering. Here however, is where the brief consonance of
worldviews comes to an end. That is, while Christians and
transhumanists may be dissatisfied with the current state of
affairs, the trajectories of these respective ends are not the same.
The primary difference between Dr. Bostrom and a Christian
perspective that looks forward to bodily resurrection is that Dr.
Bostrom sees nothing worth waiting for. From a
transhumanist’s perspective, there is no point waiting for
anything, there is no reason to hope for a future redemption because
we are our own redeemers.
Of course, this notion of waiting does not imply that Christians
need not be active participants in redeeming God’s created order. As
Ronald Cole-Turner correctly pointed out, the actions of Jesus
provide warrant waging a battle against the diseases and maladies
that mark our finite existence. However, while the successful
treatment and even eradication of certain illnesses has resulted in
longer lives, Rowan Williams reminds us that “the creative life,
death, and resurrection of Jesus manifests a creator who works in,
not against our limits, or mortality.”
Similarly, Christians are called to the fields of medicine and
technology to help fight sickness and disease as a demonstration of
Christ’s incarnational activity, yet with the understanding that the
ultimate redemption of our bodies will be accomplished at the
resurrection of the dead.
Nature as a continuing process
A final commonality in the writings of Cole-Turner and Bostrom
concerns the conception of nature as a continuing or ongoing process
(creatio continua). Bostrom observes that
“transhumanists view human nature as a work-in-progress, a
half-baked beginning that we can learn to remold in desirable ways.
Current humanity need not be the endpoint of evolution.”
As we have seen in the writings of Cole-Turner, the idea of nature
or creation as a ‘work-in-progress’ is mirrored in his use of
creatio continua, though a Christian theology of creation would
dispute the notion of nature’s beginning as ‘half-baked.’ If
transhumanist philosophy warrants that humans and eventually
posthumans take over the evolutionary process in part through
retarding aging, Cole-Turner finds warrant for attacking aging in
part through the fact that creation is continually unfolding. Though
Cole-Turner views God as sustaining and guiding this process, he
relies on this point to argue for our intervention in the aging
process. The fact that God is in some sense still creating should
only encourage us to join in on God’s creative activity. For
transhumanists, the unacceptably slow place of evolution warrants
more human control as we move beyond the human.
The differences in worldviews surface again however, when we
consider the trajectories of this evolutionary development. Where
the future looks more open in transhumanist philosophy, scripture
speaks of a radical in-breaking of God’s Kingdom, a new heaven and
earth (Revelation 21:1) which at least questions the continuity of
our current trajectory and life of our solar system. To be sure,
these are complex issues from within a Christian worldview.
Thus, while both transhumanists and those who espouse the creatio
continua share a view that nature is not static and thus require
our assistance in its flourishing, the ultimate ends of creation are
disparate.
We have seen that there are points of consonance between
transhumanist philosophy and elements within Christian theology—at
least as particularly expressed in the theology of Ronald
Cole-Turner—with respect to death as an enemy, the sentiment that
things are not as they should be, and the idea of nature as a
dynamic, ever-developing process. Doubtless, this has not been a
satisfying analysis for many. Several within the Christian tradition
for instance, have offered sharp criticism against the ideas of
cocreatorship and creatio continua.
Similarly, many transhumanists would like to see Christians
recapture the earlier proactive and melioristic mindset expressed by
Descartes, Bacon and many of the health reformers in America and
join them in the search to slow aging.
On
killing a tyrant: The death of one tyrant the birth of another?
I wish to conclude this article by offering one possible response to
the idea of killing off the dragon of aging and death. I find it
interesting that Bostrom chose the tyrant as the image of aging and
death, for when we consider death’s indiscriminately cruel and
unabated visitation upon all, irrespective of one’s health, social,
or moral standing, it is easy to see why the tyrant metaphor
encompasses so much of what we hate and fear about death. We have
already made aging and death a tyrant. However, one wonders if
Bostrom and transhumanist philosophy has not made life a
tyrant. It was this notion of ‘life at all cost,’ life as an
‘ethical lord’ that Barth found so troubling, countering that “in
theological ethics the concept of life cannot be given this
tyrannical, totalitarian function.”
Barth was essentially arguing that since life was a gift on loan
from God, a proper expression of appreciation involved the
acceptance one’s bodily limits, or even laying down one’s life for
another as the ultimate sacrifice of offering one’s life back to the
One who gave it. Again, the basis for such behavior was determined
by the person of Jesus Christ, who is the standard by which all
human thought and action is to be judged.
Of course, one may freely reject the presuppositions on which this
argument depends, by rejecting either the existence of God or the
possibility of God becoming man in Jesus Christ. Here we are likely
dealing again with a collision of worldviews, but it is hoped that
Bostrom and other transhumanists might consider the implications of
making life the ethical lord of humankind. One such implication was
provocatively suggested Barth himself, who spoke of those who are
not happy with the idea of life as a loan from God and thus of a
limited duration: “Those who are not pleased with this limit cannot
be pleased with life.”
The most obvious retort would be that making life one’s lord
is certainly better than making death one’s lord. Yet, if
death means non-existence, a permanent end to our personal history,
then one wonders, given all of the suffering in this world, whether
non-existence would be preferable to a miserable one.
Conclusion
While there are significant differences between Christian and
transhumanist worldviews, we have seen that there are some areas of
commonality in the particular area of life extension. Moreover, it
has been shown that the desire to extend human life through
scientific advancement is not new to transhumanist philosophy, but
can minimally be traced back to the health reformers and scientist,
many of whom struggled to harmonize their scientific goals with
Christian convictions. Three areas
of consonance were found amidst the conflict by looking at the
arguments put forth for life extension by theologian Ronald
Cole-Turner, suggesting that there is some common ground on which
Christian theology and transhumanist philosophy might meet and
critique one another. There remain of course, significant
differences between these two camps, stemming clearly from different
worldviews. Key differences involves the future resurrection of the
body and questionable elevation of life as ethical lord, points made
earlier by Karl Barth, and the effects that killing death might have
for the Christian who is called to daily give her life away in
service to the One who gives life as a gift.
Footnotes
Choron, Death and
Western Thought, 111. More recently, Drew Leder has
asserted that Descartes’ dualism was motivated by a fear of
death, whereby one’s body becomes the body of the Other. See
“Introduction” and “A Tale of Two Bodies: The Cartesian
Corpse and the Lived Body,” in The Body in Medical
Thought and Practice, Philosophy and Medicine 43, ed.
Drew Leder (Dordrecht: Kluwer Academic Publishers, 1992):
1-12 and 17-35 respectively; The Absent Body
(Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1992), 130-146.
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