The irrational fears about human cloning that abound from all parts of the political spectrum should not surprise anyone who knows a little bit about the history of technology. Hardly anything significant has been invented that no segment of the population has denounced as evil: factories, trains, automobiles, telephones, televisions, computers. Not even medicine has been spared this vituperation, despite its obvious benefits to humanity. Spare A B AにＢを与えない、手間をかけない I will spare you the trouble to go there. At first glance, it might seem that cloning is a whole new ballgame. After all, cloning is “the engineering of human life,” isn't it? It is the mass production of designer babies. It is the end of evolution, or at least the beginning of its corporate management. It is certainly a slap in the face of God. Or is it? One of scariest things to the opponents of cloning is the prospect of human beings having identical genetic codes. As cloning foe Jeremy Rifkin has said: “It's a horrendous crime to make a Xerox of someone. You're putting a human into a genetic straitjacket.” Logically, then, Mr. Rifkin must be repulsed by natural-born identical multiples: there is no scientific way to distinguish the DNA of one's identical twin from that of one's clone. Perhaps the whole system of natural human procreation is suspect, if it is capable of occasionally churning out such monstrosities. repulsed 嫌悪感を起こさせる Rifkinさんは「だれかのゼロックスを作るのは犯罪だ」と言ってるので、それなら、一卵性双生児に対して嫌悪感を持っているに違いない、と皮肉っている。 We need nothing more than the most rudimentary common sense to see how vacuous such an argument is. We all know identical twins who have their own unique thoughts, talents, experiences, and beliefs. They are not horrendous monsters. Human beings are more than merely their DNA; they are the products of the continual and inscrutably complex interactions of environment and biology. Human clones would be no different. The most common objection we hear from the anti-cloning lobby is that those who would clone human beings are “playing God,” and trespassing into territory that can only bring the wrath of nature or its creator. Most of these arguments are basically theological, and rest on the most effective tool of human control ever invented: fear of God. We can easily get people to hate something by calling it “unnatural”. But this argument is even more easily demolished than the previous one, because it falls so easily in line with so many obviously silly claims. This argument rests on the assumption that human ingenuity has essentially no value, that improving on nature is the height of hubris. This is the reasoning of the Dark Ages. Nature presents vegetables and meats only in raw form, so isn't the cooking of food a human transgression against nature? Nature gives us feet, not wheels, so aren't bicycles evil? If we were to abandon all of the “unnatural” practices and products from our lives, we would be shivering in caves eating uncooked leaves and bugs. Maybe human procreation is a different arena, however, more sacred than all of the others. But then, why have the technologies of fertility enhancement, in vitro fertilization, embryo transfer, and birth control become so widely accepted? They are telling examples: each of these procreational technologies had legions of vocal opponents―at first―but over time the protests mellowed as people realized that the sky wouldn't fall after all. Familiarity dissipates fear. What most opponents of genetic technology don't realize is that their supposedly “moral” objections are impeding true moral progress. With genetic engineering and stem cell research, scientists finally have within their grasp technologies that can produce ample food for a starving world and cure devastating illnesses. Only ignorant superstition stands in their way.