The science of IVF is extraordinary. On an individual level it transforms couples’ lives, providing a solution to a devastating situation. But it’s also an expression of our collective obsession with the idea we can provide perfect lives to people in our imperfect world.
Humanity has decided its destiny is to solve all problems and provide some sort of earthly utopia. Consequently, we don’t think through the social and ethical issues of our technological progress very well.
IVF critics claim intervention is encouraged thanks to the money that can be made. This cynical view may have some truth, but no more than the deeper issue that many people not only believe they can “have it all”, but also “having it all” is a human right.
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It isn’t surprising that the systems governing IVF are not sophisticated enough to deal with the wave of emotions and complex issues that arise from dabbling with the human desire to reproduce.
We are an outcome-driven society.
Governments spend millions promoting their achievements. Businesses focused on delivering profits ignore process. Our children are funnelled through 13 years of education, with only a single score received in their final high school year to show for all they’ve learned.
Being outcome-focused means the processes we undertake as human beings suffer. The ethical dilemmas presented by science and technology are not dealt with systematically. And our governments are ill-equipped to legislate when they themselves are more focused on the electorate’s interest as the end result rather than the process.
This may be because we tend towards conservatism. Our society’s initial response to change is usually negative. We oppose before engaging, whatever the issue, and prefer just to be told the end result. Our lack of participation and discussion in the decision-making process is doing us a disservice.
We continue to fail to come to terms with the issues surrounding IVF and other complex matters because we hold up choice as the dominant ethic. More choice gives us greater possibilities and opportunities to express our individuality and less chance to expose our imperfections.
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The impact of that choice on the community is given insignificant attention. This is the case with scientific developments such as genetically modified crops, genetic testing and IVF technologies. All promote their ability to reduce imperfection and provide consistency in an unstable and uncertain world. But their promises of certainty are hollow without adequate longitudinal studies of their impact on society.
So I was surprised by the decision early last year not to allow a Victorian woman access to her dead husband’s sperm. The core reason was he couldn’t give his consent. His death meant his choice went to the grave with him.
To uphold the choice of the dead over that of the living is a new twist, and in some ways conflicts with another key decision in Victoria this year - to allow contact between sperm donors and their biological offspring.
How can we consider giving anonymous sperm donors access to records that will allow them to contact children they have fathered in only the most rudimentary, biological sense - even after they were under the impression that anonymity was a key clause of the initial, porn-fuelled deposit?
Yet we’re unwilling to allow a woman access to the sperm of the man she loved and shared a life with. Such decisions are made in isolation and with a lack of regard for the deeper social consciousness that tries to make sense of these outcomes.
We despise hypocrisy, but in the rapid pursuit of choice and perfection we’re unable to avoid a myriad of ethical inconsistencies.
Of course just before Christmas the Civil and Administrative Tribunal overturned this decision, and perhaps during 2006 we will have the first child fathered in Australia by a dead man. A Ripley’s Believe It or Not if ever there was one.
Still, our continued lack of adherence to rigorous and thoughtful processes exposes our human tendency to hypocrisy. We’re so very fallible. Thanks to scientific discoveries and the strangely held idea that any new science is actually “progress”, we find ourselves in an ethically confusing and contradictory world.
We need to return to the root of the dilemma and start asking questions that are progressive in action, not just in name. We need to ask how important choice is. Is it really a right for most of us to have freedom of choice above everything else?
The root of the IVF dilemma is whether IVF itself actually contributes positively to society. Is it just another example of the pursuit of unattainable perfection?
We want to believe it isn’t that complicated. But it is. The issue of fertility decision-making doesn’t have any perfect answers. The real question is not who should have access to IVF, but just how perfect do we think our lives should be?