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Our sixth grader came home this week with the following school
assignment:
What are some ethical
issue accompanying made-to-order children?
Made-to-order children?!!! Like made-to-order furniture or Build-a Bear... children?!!! I gasp. The colossal
moral conundrum instantly assails all my faculties while a pair of eyes rest
calmly on my face. Unperturbed, he waits for me to lead the way. This is not
the issue for him to grapple with… at least not yet.
This is purely
academic, right? I ask, not quite ready for a Huxley's Brave New World reality, or some other version of a sci-fi scenario where human babies can be made to
their parents’ specifications... an assembly-line, pick-your-own-flavor kid from a
tube.
I am about to jump on the high horse and bear into those parents who would be presumptuous
enough to choose the exact spelling of the genetic script of their progeny… cherry-picking syllables that make their own lives easy and convenient, their job of
parenting smooth and undemanding...
Those selfish and controlling parents who hide inside a protective bubble, who want to ensure that their children’s future
is wildly successful, sealed against failure and heartbreak, fear and
disappointment...
But, even as the words form in my brain, I realize that even though I may not
be able to manipulate the genes I still desperately want to manipulate the
circumstances and my children’s choices to mold them according to my personal
preferences, my idea of what's best for them... I want to bubble-wrap their minds and hearts inside carefully controlled environment where they are kept safe and happy and our lives are easy and
stress-free…
This is more
complicated than it first appears… I
clear my throat… A lot more complicated
in one sense… and yet, in another it’s quite simple…
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