Sociological Perspectives on the New Genetics

Full Title: Sociological Perspectives on the New Genetics
Author / Editor: Peter Conrad and Jonathan Gabe (editors)
Publisher: Blackwell Publishers, 1999

 

Review © Metapsychology Vol. 6, No. 50
Reviewer: Christian Perring, Ph.D.

This collection of nine academic
articles with an introduction written by the editors provides a very helpful
introduction to the sociological discussion of genetic medicine. Seven of the articles are by researchers
based in the UK, with just one by authors from Canada and another from the
US. The book is divided into three
sections:

·       
Structure and Production of Genetic Knowledge

·       
The Social Meanings of Genetics

·       
The Social Impact and Implications of Genetics

As with a great deal of medical sociology, the guiding
assumption is that the sociology of the science and medicine of genetics
reveals underlying normative attitudes beneath the guise of apparent
neutrality. None of the authors
explicitly endorses the strong program in the sociology of science—the thesis
that science can be completely explained through the sociological study of the
activity of scientists rather than through an appeal to the rationality of
scientific methodology—but it is a necessary supposition in medical sociology
that the study of the words and actions of medical researchers, health care
professionals and the popular explanations of biological science reveals
something important about the field that is not captured by a narrow focus on
the “medical facts.”

The great danger for medical
sociology, as with much of the rest of the field of sociology, is that what it
purports to show is already common knowledge, and the conclusions of scholarly
papers are utterly banal. For the most
part, the authors in Sociological Perspectives on the New Genetics
manage to avoid this danger. For
genetics, the most obvious moral concern is that we avoid repeating the ugly past
of Social Darwinism and the international Eugenics movement of the late
nineteenth and first half of the twentieth century. This history, which involved discrimination against and the
forced sterilization of people with cognitive deficits, mental illness, and
genetic disorders has been well documented, although it is still a surprise to
most people that the Eugenics movement had wide popularity in the US and many
European countries in the early twentieth century. The Nazi quest for the master race and the resulting Holocaust
was certainly the most horrific realization of the goals of the Eugenics
movement, but many thousands of people in the rest of the world, including the
US, suffered as a result of the endorsement of the ideology of Eugenics by politicians,
policy makers and the judiciary at the highest level. It is still shocking to read the opinion of Theodore Roosevelt,
that, “Criminals should be sterilized and feeble-minded persons forbidden to
leave offspring behind them” (quoted in Jeremy Rifkin, The Biotech
Century
, p. 117). Modern
genetics tries hard to separate itself from this appalling history, but the
central question for those assessing it is whether it succeeds. The sociologists in this collection tend to
approach this issue with a critical attitude, or what one might call a
hermeneutics of suspicion.

Understanding the concept of
genetic disorder is essential for any normative evaluation of genetic
medicine. In “Genes as drugs: the
social shaping of gene therapy and the reconstruction of genetic disease,” Paul
Martin gives a fascinating history of the growth of gene therapy and the
expansion of the concept of genetic disorder to a broad range of common
acquired conditions, including cancer and heart disease. He argues that gene therapy technology
“moved from being a largely surgical procedure for the treatment of rare
inherited disorders to a novel form of drug therapy for cancer and other
acquired diseases” (p. 31). The
expansion of the domain of genetics to include common disorders is an important
phenomenon that deserves careful scrutiny.

The question of who has a genetic
disorder is also addressed by Elizabeth Ettore in “Experts as ‘storytellers’ in
reproductive genetics: exploring key issues.” 
She analyzes a qualitative study of genetic expert’s accounts of the use
of prenatal genetic screening in four European countries, and much of the paper
is devoted to what people said in interview. 
A central issue for the paper is what counts as the experts’ area of
expertise, and to what extent they implicitly or explicitly adopt normative
stances, and how their views may influence the rest of society. Similar themes are addressed by “Defining
the ‘social’: towards an understanding of scientific and medical discourses on
the social aspects of the new human genetics,” by Sarah Cunningham-Burley and
Anne Kerr. They focus on the writings
of genetic experts in academic journals, and examine how social and ethical
concerns are discussed. They take a
rather stronger position in their paper than Ettore, arguing that there is a
tension between the supposed neutrality and objectivity of scientific and
medical knowledge and the morally loaded positions taken by scientific and
medical experts. They even propose that
social scientists could form “alliances with critical scholars in the
scientific, medical and public health disciplines to undermine the notions of
value-free science and an ignorant public, to counter indifference towards
eugenics, and to challenge the notion that ‘biological disease’ can be
separated from the social world” (p. 163). 
They believe it is important to “break down the traditional divide
between scientific experts and others” (p. 163).

Other papers address the
representation of the new genetic medicine in popular discourse. In “The human drama of genetics: ‘hard’ and
‘soft’ media representations of inherited breast cancer,” Lesley Henderson and
Jenny Kitzinger survey the coverage of the “breast cancer gene” in British
newspapers, magazines and television shows. 
Their main point is that these media focus on “human interest stories”
such as prophylactic mastectomies and the experiences of women from families in
which the incidence of breast cancer was high. 
The authors point out the foregrounding of genetic issues can distort
the public’s understanding of cancer, leading to a neglect of environmental
factors. The “soft news” approach
relies on the drama of personal concerns heightened by the uncertainty about
the future rather than the “hard news” of scientific facts. Most news media are increasingly using “soft
values” in their reporting, and this is an important change. Nina Hallowell also addresses the issue of
breast and ovarian cancer in her paper, “Doing the right thing: genetic risk
and responsibility.” She interviewed
women referred for genetic counseling in order to examine their understanding
of genetic risk and how it affected their decision-making. The paper contains many quotations from
those interviews, illustrating common themes. 
Hallowell argues that people in the late twentieth century tend to see
their health as a matter of their individual responsibility, and people often
act out of sense of moral duty towards their families. This sense of duty is not just within one
generation (such as a woman’s responsibility to her sisters) but also from one
generation to the next (such as a woman’s duty to her daughter). Hallowell suggests that the new genetics is
changing our understanding of health, so that healthy people are recategorized
as “at-risk.” She expresses the concern
that this, in conjunction with the gendered discourse of women as care-takers,
may be disempowering and may constrain women’s choices. At the same time, she suggests that there
may also be a benefit in the “opportunity to reconfirm the self as a
self-in-relation” (p. 116).

The issue of genetic risk is also
central to the paper by Susan M. Cox and William McKellin, “‘There’s this thing
in our family’: predictive testing and the construction of risk for Huntington
Disease.” The authors, based at the
University of British Columbia, performed in-depth interviews with people at
risk for Huntington’s disease and their relatives, before and after the
disclosure of test results. The sample
size was relatively small, with 21 test candidates and 41 family members. The paper groups the results of the
interviews according to theme, and quotes liberally from the interviewees. The authors aim to give some sense of the
“lay constructions of risk” and the way that predictive testing modifies
people’s thinking about the risk. They
emphasize that their subjects’ understanding is not based purely on scientific
theories, but rather involves many other factors. In a striking sentence, they explain that the test candidates and
their families jointly engage in a complex social calculus of risk, which “is
fluid and contingent rather than static, intersubjective rather than objective,
and creative yet coherent” (p. 140).

Alan Stockdale’s paper, “Waiting
for the cure: mapping the social relations of human gene therapy research,”
also includes some interviews with people with genetic disorders, in this case,
cystic fibrosis, (CF). He also interviewed family members, physicians,
researchers, and representatives of relevant industries and charities. Stockdale makes a straightforward argument
that the research into gene therapy for CF is taking up many resources with a
very uncertain outcome. He claims that
the decision of the CF Foundation to focus on research for a ‘cure’ “has meant
that the many other potentially competing needs of people with CF and their
families, such as CF education, social support, and age-appropriate care, have
been marginalized” (p. 93). He
highlights the relatively weak voice of patients and their families in the
decision-making process on how to allocate resources, and he argues that even
clinicians have had little opportunity and incentive to voice their skepticism
about the current setting of priorities. 

Tom Shakespeare’s paper, “‘Losing
the plot’?: Medical and activist discourses of contemporary genetics and
disability,” has an elegant simplicity. 
He compares and contrasts the way that medical experts and disability
activists talk about genetic disorders. 
In medicine, he identifies narratives of tragedy, narratives of
optimism, and ignorance about disability. 
Of particular interest is his claim that genetic discourses exhibit
ignorance about what counts as a disability and what it is like to be
disabled. It may be startling for
genetic researchers to read how some disability activists equate their work
with that of the Nazi program of eugenics and euthanasia, although Shakespeare
is careful to distance himself from such a stance and to point out that there
are dangers in such an equation. Also
startling to many non-disabled people is that denial by disability activists
that disability is an intrinsic property of the disabled. While Shakespeare is clearly sympathetic to
a social model of disability that places responsibility on society for disabling
people who have physical and mental differences from the general population, he
nevertheless identifies the weakness of a position that denies that the
disabled have any impairment. He argues
that this fails to engage with the lived experience of impairment and the
effect it has on people’s lives. He
comes to the somewhat banal conclusion that we need “nuanced and balanced
accounts of the potential and the dangers of contemporary genetic research and
practice” (p. 187).

These papers that focus on how
experts and ordinary people conceptualize genetic disorders and inherited risk
are important in trying to understand the impact of genetics on contemporary
society. The in-depth interviews and
surveys of popular media are essential in seeing how scientific ideas get
translated into popular discourse and affect the fabric of people’s lives. However, it is worth keeping in mind that a
more fully narrative approach can also be very helpful – the first person
accounts of people with genetic disorders in their families are a vital
resource for researchers and teachers of genetic ethics. (See, for example, Life As We
Know It
by Michael Berube, Mapping
Fate
by Alice Wexler, or Choosing
Naia
by Mitchell Zukoff, for example.)

The final paper does not fit very
well with the rest of the collection, either in style, content, or the format
of its title. “DNA identification and
surveillance creep” by US authors Dorothy Nelkin and Lori Andrews, is written
in more popular style than the other papers, and discusses the role of genetics
in law enforcement rather than in medicine. 
It sets out recent developments in the area, and spells out the concerns
they have about the curtailing of personal liberty, the danger of error in DNA
evidence, and the potential for abuse, especially as the science of behavioral
genetics comes to play a greater role in identifying the perpetrators of past
and future crimes.

Medical ethicists will find Sociological
Perspectives on the New Genetics
a valuable resource since medical
sociology is generally not included in standard collections of articles on the
topic, yet understanding the sociology of genetic medicine is essential when
considering the role of genetics in contemporary society. These papers are informative and
approachable, and they give many references to the rest of the recent
literature on genetics in medical sociology. 
Although the papers are somewhat technical, it takes little work to sort
through the jargon, and the book could be helpful in teaching genetic ethics at
the undergraduate level or with medical students. Highly recommended.

 

© 2002 Christian Perring. All
rights reserved.

Christian Perring, Ph.D., is
Chair of the Philosophy Department at Dowling College, Long Island. He is
editor of Metapsychology Online Review. His main research is on
philosophical issues in psychiatry. He is especially interested in exploring
how philosophers can play a greater role in public life, and he is keen to help
foster communication between philosophers, mental health professionals, and the
general public.

Categories: Genetics, Ethics, Philosophical