Is science the salvation of society? I think we can begin to think about this complex question only after we try to understand what the key terms in it mean: what is science? What is salvation? Since I am neither a scientist nor a priest but only a historian , I am bound to take a pretty pedestrian approach here: no sophisticated theory, no lofty theology, just common sense definitions. If we take science to be the observation, identification, description, experimental investigation, and theoretical explanation of phenomena, especially natural phenomena, and salvation in secular terms, to imply improvement in the quality of life of humans in societies here on earth, then perhaps we can rephrase our initial question. Instead of Is science the salvation of society, perhaps we can ask, Does the investigation and explanation of phenomena and especially of natural phenomena by humans necessarily lead to more moral, or ethically superior, or richer, or smarter, or simply happier people?
When the question is phrased in this way, the answer is an obvious and resounding no. While many inventions, technological innovations, and discoveries in the disciplines, for example, of biology, physics, chemistry, and engineering, have in the long run profoundly enriched the way we live, making in many cases what was impossible not only imaginable but ordinary, other equally pathbreaking discoveries about nature and the universe have left our way of life pretty much unchanged, and some scientific discoveries--advanced weapons technology, for example--can threaten our very survival. Sometimes, and this is really the important point, a particular discovery or technological advance can potentially either enrich or destroy the quality of human life. Research and technologies that isolate viruses, mine fossil fuels, produce cars, cure pain, map genes, all of these can profoundly enrich or irreparably damage our societies. Furthermore, what's good for me and my society isn't necessarily good for you and yours, especially in our time, when we see a great and possibly growing disparity between the expectations and quality of life in developed as opposed to less developed nations, and an equally striking gap between the affluent and the underprivileged within the United States. So the important question, then, is not, is science the salvation of society, but rather, what factors determine how scientific knowledge gets used in society, and, even more importantly, how can we best evaluate the implications of specific scientific advances for our way of life?
Even if I knew the answers to these hard questions, about which, frankly, I am clueless, I would not have time here this morning to begin to state them. Instead, what I would like to do is to take a single example and to explore very briefly the variety of ways in which a scientific/technological advance gets understood and deployed in a complex human society whose values and goals derive from a range of sources some of which are far from scientific. My example is birth control and reproductive technology, everything from contraception to abortion to in utero testing to infertility treatment s to modern approaches to labor and the birth process. I choose this example not only to be provocative, although I admit I like that, but also because birth control and reproductive technology represent areas of research with the potential to reshape both our public, political lives and our most intimate and private relationships. How we manage these technologies is therefore of profound importance to our understanding of ourselves both as citizens and as individuals.
Let's begin by recalling what is, I think, historically undeniable: reproductive technology--by this I mean both the conscious limitation of fertility through abstinence or contraception and advances in obstetrical and postpartum care--has made imaginable women's full participation in the public life of this country. Only as more and more American women began to control, in a variety of ways, if they would have kids, when they would have kids, and how many kids they would have did they also begin successfully to demand other political and educational opportunities. And let us not forget just how recent a development this is: my grandmother was born into an America in which women could not vote. my mother, when she was a senior in high school, could not apply to Harvard or Yale or Princeton, although I'd like to pint out that she could have gone to Rice. When I was born, women still did not serve on juries in many states. A lot has changed, and very quickly. These changes in the status of women depend in many ways upon advances in what I have collectively called reproductive technologies. And from a point of view that respects a commitment to the political and juridical equality and the freedom of all people, technologies have made out lives and our society immeasurably better. I for one would not want to live in a world without them.
But just think of the questions that these technologies cannot by themselves solve: what kind of family structures , if any, should society encourage and why? What kind of responsibility, if any, should we take collectively for our country's children? Should society accommodate working parents, and how? Should society limit a woman's choice about if and when to bear a child and if so on what grounds and how? Who should regulate in utero genetic testing and what kind of test results, if any, legitimate terminating a pregnancy and who decides this? How much infertility treatment is too much, and who decides this? How much of our resources should be directed towards prolonging the lives of very prematurely born or born severely disabled babies, and who decides this?
These questions, hard questions, are posed but not resolved by contemporary reproductive technologies and the science that made those technologies possible. The answers, including the answer to the question, "who decides?" come from someplace else.