Abstract
Introduction: Making sense of the changing landscape of the biosciences
The landscape of the biosciences is changing. Research is undergoing an ‘information revolution’, as it is increasingly carried out with digital tools and databases. The processes and outputs of research are being commodified, with the rise of intellectual property regimes that produce patents, spin-off companies, and academic-commercial collaborations. On a broader level, this is reflective of the globalization of the biosciences, of the diffusion of western biomedicine across the world, and with it, the rise of translational research and global clinical trials (Rajan and Leonelli, 2013). These changes are occurring across multiple spaces and timescales, and involve the re-ordering of the social, economic, political, and cultural dimensions of the biosciences.
How then is it possible to make sense of these changes, which seem to pervade so much of laboratory and social life? How might social scientists go about theorizing modern biomedical developments, or developing frameworks to comment on trends across the life sciences? The social sciences are uniquely poised to tackle such a feat, by making connections across seemingly disparate areas of research, and by illuminating the complexities of emerging arenas like big data and the ‘omics’. However, it is precisely the growing scale, scope, and pace of the modern biosciences that makes this feat so difficult, perhaps impossible. If there was once a time in which it was possible to develop all-encompassing theories and frameworks for the life sciences—such as Karl Marx’s notion of ‘capital’ (Marx, 2008) or Michel Foucault’s notion of a ‘politics of life’ (Foucault, 2003, 1990)—that time has passed. The complexity of developments in the life sciences evades simple and causal explanations.
It is in this context that the two books that form the subject of this review—Bio-Objects: Life in the 21st Century, edited by Niki Vermeulen, Sakari Tamminen, and Andrew Webster, and Genes, Cells and Brains: The Promethean Promises of the New Biology by Hilary Rose and Steve Rose—emerge. Both represent attempts to find unifying frameworks with which to analyze and critique the biosciences, and to make sense of the impact they are having on society. Both acknowledge that the biosciences, and with them the practices and objects of biomedical knowledge, are undergoing significant changes. Furthermore, both books link such changes to the broad processes of molecularization (Rose, 2007), commodification (Helmreich, 2008), digitization, globalization (Appadurai, 1996; Sassen, 1998), and regulation (Jasanoff, 2004). In this sense, both books hail from several decades of work spanning several areas the social sciences, including feminist theory, history of science, and science and technology studies (STS).
Overall, Bio-Objects reads like the academic journal counterpart to Genes, Cells and Brains’ New Scientist-esque tone. Although the books share a commitment to analyzing the broader structures that shape the biosciences, the audience, tone, and pace of each book is remarkably different. Bio-Objects is clearly an edited volume, consisting of discrete topical essays written by different authors. Genes, Cells and Brains reads like a popular science book (along the lines of Ben Goldacre’s Bad Science) aimed at debunking the myths and media portrayals of the biosciences. In other words, you might assign Bio-Objects to your class of graduate students, while you might recommend Genes, Cells and Brains to a scientist interested in learning more about the development of his or her field.
Bio-Objects consists of thirteen essays that are divided into three main sections, which address the shifting boundaries, governance, and so-called ‘generative relations’surrounding bio-objects. The book reflects on the rise of ‘bio-objects’, conceptual devices for thinking about the changing relation and meanings of life, as well as the process of ‘bio-objectification’ that creates and sustains them. It argues that the boundaries between human-animal, organic-nonorganic, and living-nonliving are both shaping and being dynamically shaped through processes of governance. Each essay focuses on a different bio-object, ranging from transgenic animals, embryos, stem cells, water, clinical research patients, GM crops, and genes. The book is particularly interested in how bio-objects come into being through, and also reinforce, regulations.
Genes, Cells and Brains consists of nine main chapters, which are in principle categorized along the three axes set out in its title—genes, cells, and brains—but in reality cover a vast array of topics including the Human Genome Project, evolutionary developmental biology, bioethics, eugenics, biobanks, stem cells, and neuroscience. The authors draw on this heterogeneous collection to argue that the sciences have profited —literally and figuratively—from the claim that biomedicine can transform society. This ‘promethean promise’, they argue, has yet to be realized, and has resulted in the commodification of life rather than its improvement. Consequently, biomedicine and biotechnology have been over-simplified and over-commercialized, to the point that the scientific-validity and beneficiaries of an overarching number of research activities are no longer clear. This ferocious and sweeping critique of the biosciences covers a wide range of topics, but unlike Bio-Objects, is rooted more in historical narratives, and punctuated by controversial events rather than in-depth case studies.
Bio-Objects
Each book starts off with an introductory chapter highlighting its commitments and aims. For Bio-Objects, this is dense discussion of recent developments in the burgeoning field of STS, with due diligence being paid to concepts like border crossings (Haraway, 1997), molecularization (Rose, 2007), sorting and classification (Foucault, 1973; Bowker and Star, 2000), and assemblages (Latour, 1993; Law, 2009). Readers will recognize brief references to a number of debates within the STS community, framed around the themes (or, one might be tempted to say, ‘buzz words’) of bio-objectification, governance, materiality, and vitality.
Although the essays within Bio-Objects are organized into three main sections—boundaries, governance, and generative relations—their categorization is by no means rigid or mutually exclusive. Many of the essays address cross-cutting themes: the essays on boundaries deal with issues of governance, while the essays on generative relations play with the notion of boundaries. The themes that guide the sections are, as the editors note in their introduction, meant to function as heuristic devices. But the existence of multiple themes within each chapter suggests that there are other possible frameworks and readings by which the essays might be structured. The multiple themes and interpretations are a testament to both the strengths and weaknesses of the bio-objects theoretical framing—it highlights the complex issues inherent in the changing conditions and materials of the biosciences, but that it also lacks the specificity and focus of other theories like biocapital (Rajan, 2006) or situated knowledges (Haraway, 1988).
For this reason, I would like to suggest that the essays in the Bio-Objects collection might instead be read around the thematic axes of embryos, organism-technologies, cells, and genes. In the first of three chapters focusing on embryos, Chapter 5 by Nik Brown explores how transpecies embryos exists as liminal entities, as incalculable bio-objects that defy numbering and classification. Their ‘humanness’ is both destabilized and central to politics, as efforts to demarcate what percentage of their nuclear DNA might be ‘human’ are fraught with difficulty. This, Brown argues, results in leaky definitions and regulatory orders, which ultimately reflect the confusion surrounding the classification of bio-objects. Chapter 9 by Bettina Bock von Wulfingen focuses on embryos generated through IVF in a German context to discuss how embryos are bio-objects par excellence (Metzler and Webster, 2011). German embryos are the product of a non-technological intimacy between couples, as well as a product of the biotechnology boom of the late 1990s. Not all bio-objects, Wulfingen argues, are the same, and are characterized by diverse epistemic and material processes. Chapter 10 by Ingrid Metzler focuses on IVF embryos in the Italian context to reflect on how states are important for enacting the politics and the local quality of bio-objects. There is an inherent vagueness in the ways that embryos are dealt with by government institutions and structures, which highlights how embryos are neither ‘bio’ nor ‘object’, neither cells nor persons. States, Metzler argues, help make bio-objects by producing laws and regulations that stabilize certain things over others.
In the first of four chapters on organism-technologies, Chapter 1 by Tara Holmberg and Malin Ideland discusses how transgenic mice as bio-objects come to exist as a both normal and extraordinary. The ‘naturalness’ of transgenic mice is constructed through particular technologies and regimes, which in turn legitimize and objectify the ‘unnatural’ genetic modifications that make up the mice. This, Holmberg and Ideland argues, highlights the process of becoming ‘trans’, and the discursive work that is needed to make bio-objects into something ordinary and special. Chapter 8 by Nete Schwennesen discusses how fetuses, like transgenic mice, come to exist as lives that are worth saving for couples undergoing fetal testing for Down’s syndrome. There is inherent uncertainty in the ultrasound images generated during such testing, which enables medical institutions to generate ethically- and morally-charged boundaries between life and non-life. The boundaries drawn around bio-objects, Schwennesen argues, conscript pregnant couples into particular modes of decision-making and positions of responsibility, and ultimately constrain spaces of action.
Observing the multiplicity inherent in the process of bio-objectification, Chapter 4 by Conor MW Douglas discusses how multiple kinds of clinical research patients are created during the move from medical R&D to health care. In attempts to define ‘standardized patients’ in heterogeneous populations, the stabilization of ‘multiples’ (Mol, 2002) is not always smooth. Patients, Douglas argues, are too complex to be fully bio-objectified, reflecting the difficulties inherent in creating stable objects that can be circulated and commodified. Chapter 6 by Janus Hansen discusses how multiple ‘publics’ as bio-objects emerge during efforts at public engagement during the GM controversy of the early 2000s. Contrasting public engagement programmes in Denmark, Germany, and the United Kingdom, Hansen argues that there is no ‘pure’ public to engage, as publics are constructed in relation to national and politico-cultural contexts, which influence the regulatory frameworks that govern bio-objects.
Somewhat unusually, Chapter 3 by Ragna Zeiss asks how something as fundamental as water can be left out of discussion of organisms and life. Although water does not have a consistent meaning as ‘good’ or ‘bad’, the rise of chemistry causes water to become regulated, governed, and manufactured, such that ‘natural water’ is made into something that is life giving. Consequently, Zeiss argues, water can be framed as either part of or beyond life, blurring the boundaries between life and non-life.
In the first of three essays about cells, Chapter 2 by Lena Eriksson discusses how pluripotent stem cells become bio-objects through public and private processes. Pluripotent stem cells are given just the right amount of potential to be useful (Metzler and Webster, 2011), meaning that notions of pluripotent and potential are ambiguous. In the movement of pluripotent stem cells to the regulatory logic of the clinic, Eriksson argues that the uncertainty and instability of bio-objects is rendered problematic. Chapter 11 by Niki Vermeulen discusses how the generation of in silico cells—‘virtual’ cells that are generated through computer simulations—as bio-objects leads to the reorganization of science, and the building of new international collaborations and government infrastructures. The generation such cells helps to stage systems biology as big science and legitimate it as a field, both within and beyond academic. Different meanings and forms of bio-objects, Vermeulen argues, are related to different forms of organization and governance. Chapter 13 by Sakari Tamminen discusses how cryopreserved cells enable animal cells to become bio-objectified through technological work. Life is configured as animation, as cryopreservation transforms animal cells into quantified, standardized, and manipulable reproductive substances. In this process, Tamminen argues, biodiversity is reconfigured as a genetic resource that is linked to sovereign nation states, as frozen animal cells become bio-objects that are tied to broader socio-political processes.
In the first of two essays on genes, Chapter 12 by Ine Van Hoyweghen discusses how genetic information becomes a bio-object through its use in the insurance industry. With its roots in statistics, the insurance industry uses genes to calculate and molecularize life in new ways, giving rise to new politics and normative dimensions of insurance. Echoing theories of ‘biosociality’ (Rabinow, 1992), Hoyweghen argues that genes differentiate, draw together, and give rise to new social actors and politics through fears of genetic discrimination and beliefs that insurance is a social right. Chapter 7 by Aaro Tupasela discusses how the molecularization of hereditary colorectal cancer is tied to new forms of care for people and families. There is an inherent tension between the imperative to care for individuals and the need to improve the life of the population as a whole. Bio-objects, Tupasela argues, can be transformative, allowing for new forms of governance, new configurations of intervention and prevention, as well as new forms of subjectivity, privacy, and autonomy.
Genes, Cells and Brains
The introduction of Genes, Cells and Brains is a historical unfolding of the themes, structures, and controversies that have shaped the biosciences. The authors narrate the emergence of worries over ‘big science’ after the Cold War, the rise of the radical science movement after the Vietnam War, the birth of movements to ‘democratize’ science and restore public trust, and above all, the commercialization of the life sciences in the shift to a neoliberal economy. Readers will feel most at home with the discussion of Mertonian norms (Merton, 1968), scientific objectivity (Haraway, 1997; Shapin and Schaffer, 1985), and Karl Popper’s philosophy of science (Popper, 2014) on pages 12-15, which the authors use to frame their discussion of the influence of globalization and informatics on the modern biosciences.
Discussing the rise of the Human Genome Project (HGP), Chapter 1 situates the HGP in relation to the transformation of molecular biology and genetics into big science and Big Pharma, and also in relation to the competition between the public HGP and the commercial Celera project led by Craig Venter. The rise of the HGP, the authors argue, gave rise to post-genomic public projects like the Human Genome Diversity Project, as well as commercial opportunities like direct-to-consumer genetic testing. Addressing one of the main critiques of genetics and genomics—that life is too complicated to be explained by genes alone—Chapter 2 details the rise of the field of evolutionary development in relation to Darwin’s theory of evolution, paying particular attention to the issues of sexism and racism that pervaded early research in evolution and developmental biology. Although evolutionary development has helped to complicate the notion that life is determined by genes, the authors argue that it has been paralleled by the rise of evolutionary psychology, which makes problematic and reductionist claims that human beings have a ‘stone age’ nature (Rose and Rose, 2012).
Turning to the ethical issues surrounding bioscientific research, the Chapter 3 discusses the evolution of bioethics in relation to controversies over the role of animals and vivisection in evolutionary and biological research. The authors paint the rise of modern bioethics in relation to public scandals on human experimentation, for example, in the Nuremberg Trials (ibid.) and the Tuskegee Syphilis Study (ibid.), which together gave rise to the notions of informed consent and peer review. Moving to discussions of the ethics of biological property, made famous by Henrietta Lacks’ ‘HeLa’ cell case (Landecker, 2007), the authors detail the rise of government-led infrastructures like the Nuffield Council on bioethics and the Ethical, Legal, and Social Implications (ELSI) project of the HGP. Moving to ethical problem of the possible links between eugenics and genetics, Chapter 4 details the rise of mid-20th century Nazi-style eugenics programs throughout not only Germany, but also in places like Scandinavia, the United States, and Cyprus. Moving to the genomic era, the authors argue that despite the distancing of clinical genetics (like pre-implantation genetic diagnosis) from eugenics via counselling and other measures, clinical genetics is still a morally fraught area. They state that ‘while compulsory state eugenics has retreated, there is still plenty of eugenic pressure within neoliberal culture, economy and society’ (Rose and Rose, 2012).
Like the work of anthropologists Gisli Palsson and Mike Fortun (Fortun, 2008; Palsson, 2007), Chapter 5 details the saga of DeCode genetics in Iceland. As the first large-scale DNA biobank in the world, which was founded on the promise of finding the genetic basis for a variety of common disease, the authors argue that DeCode raised ethical questions about the relationship between private sector and public health research. It also raised scientific questions about the value and of ‘gene-fishing’ approaches, as well as the validity and design of genomic population studies in relation to sampling and the designation of ‘good’ populations. Turning to the topic of biobanks more broadly, Chapter 6 discusses the rise of biobanks as something that have existed since the beginning of biomedical research, but which are being mobilized in the modern biosciences for genetic studies. Biobanks, the authors argue, provided a means to invest in the promise of genetics, which glossed over the complexity of biology. Here, the chapter focuses on the controversies and challenges surrounding the establishment of the UK Biobank, asking whether it will ultimately be possible to for the UK Government to deliver on its promises scientifically and commercially while recruiting appropriate patient populations and ensuring privacy.
Chapter 8 highlights the controversies surrounding the use of stem cells to develop treatments for various conditions, showing how stem cell research has been implicated in religious and feminist debates about the procurement and use of bodily tissues. Focusing on the controversy surrounding the generation of cloned human embryonic cells in South Korea (Rose and Rose, 2012), the authors argue that stem cells typified the ethical and scientific problems of moving from animal to human research, saying: ‘the confident insistence that the embryologists were merely doing “good science”, just like any other biomedical researcher elsewhere, reprise[d] the defense of the Nazi doctors on trial at Nuremberg’ (ibid.). Drawing the book to a close, Chapter 9 details the rise of the neurosciences in relation to the increased diagnosis and medicalization of mental disorders. The neurosciences, the authors argue, have tried to use technologies like fMRI and PET scanning to reduce and model the complexities of the brain, but have struggled to capture the complexities of lived experience. Despite the promise of rationally-designed drugs and genetic therapies for conditions like Alzheimer’s disease, the neurosciences have instead been wrapped up in controversies over military investments and claims that criminality and intelligence can be measured and prevented with genetics.
Critical perspectives on ‘life’ and the biosciences in the 21st Century
Despite the different audiences, tones, and pace of Bio-Objects and Genes, Cells and Brains, the books share a commitment towards highlighting how changes in the structures and technologies of the modern biosciences are being paralleled by changes in the objects and knowledge of ‘life’ writ large. In this sense, Bio-Objects seeks to examine how bioscientific developments and technologies create new ways of thinking about life, and shows how this creates challenges and opportunities for technology to interact with society, often through legislation or regulatory infrastructures. On the other hand, Genes, Cells and Brains strives to break down false perceptions of what the biosciences are and can do—to deconstruct the promises of technological change, as well as the claims that life can be fully simplified and reduced.
A stringent critique of the biosciences is much needed. As the authors of Genes, Cells and Brains note, the contours of research and profit are increasingly unevenly distributed across the globe, with executive pay across the UK biotechnology industry increasing by 49 percent in relation to the paltry 2.7 percent of employees. However, the book struggles to balance its discussion of the failures and problems of the biosciences with a discussion of the discoveries and developments that have, to a certain extent, improved the welfare of society. Where, moreover, is the agency and voice of researchers trying to make a difference, and do they necessarily buy into the claims and goals of commercialization? In the unquestionably asymmetrical playing field of globalization, we need strong proponents of increased equality and opportunity. However, we also need fair analyses of the benefits and drawbacks of the biosciences.
In Bio-Objects, the cases where bio-objects fail to materialize are perhaps the most striking parts of the book. Here, Holmberg and Ideland’s discussion of trans mice and Metzler’s discussion of Italian IVF embryos succeed particularly well in highlighting the reciprocal relationships between the structures and objects of knowledge. Those cases that examine the differences and varying contexts in which bio-objects are generated, however, raise one of the main challenges of the book, namely: What politics are these examples doing, and on whose behalf? Why does it matter that different publics emerge in the controversies over GMOs, or that in silico cells are tied to broader changes in science? Social scientists must do more than point out controversies and contingences: they must say why and to whom they matter. In contrast, this is one of the main strengths of Genes, Cells and Brains, which overtly argues against the commercialization and commodification of biology, raising the question of ‘Who Benefits’ with the rise of biotechnology companies. (Hint: the answer is ‘Not the consumers!’) The authors lay the politics of the modern biosciences on the table with the book’s discussion of Big Pharma and the ties between the UK Government and the biotechnology industry.
Another main challenge of Bio-Objects, due in part to its broad nature as an edited volume, is that it all-too-briefly describes the questions that bio-objects and processes of bio-objectification raise, and most notably, how those questions differ from other existing frameworks. How is Bio-Objects’ focus on boundaries different from feminist technoscience investigations of nature-cultures, and how is its focus on the reciprocal relationship between objects and processes different from ontology? With such a broad framework, what areas of investigation are not captured by a focus on bio-objects and bio-objectification? Are bio-objects historical or new? What concept of ‘life’ are bio-objects engaging with, and how might they help us to understand processes of bio-objectification in Non-Western settings? What happens in Non-Western settings? After the book’s final essay by Sakari Tamminen, the reader needs a concluding chapter that explicitly shows how Bio-Objects adds to and asks questions that go beyond the existing literature. Otherwise, the value of the volume lies in its empirical depth rather than its theoretical contribution. The same, although for different reasons, might be said of Genes, Cells and Brains.