World Future Society — Generations Forum, essay by Sarah Stephen

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Letters to Unborn Daughters:
Exploring the Implications of Genetic Engineering

by Sarah Stephen

SUMMARY: Genetic engineering holds many mysteries. A student author explores its implications by means of imaginary conversations between mothers and their unborn daughters.

he following is a series of imagined letters written by mothers to their yet-to-be born daughters. They follow the debate of genetic enhancement while exploring the connection between a mother and a daughter.

September 2006
Dear Jane,

I'm sure you're a girl. Your father thinks so, too, though neither of us wants to know until you're born. We wanted to keep as much about your birth a surprise as possible. We had an ultrasound today, and everything appears normal. I'm glad that we decided to conceive you the natural way. There was some pressure from both our families to use genetic selection to ensure that you were perfect. Your father's family wanted their athleticism, and my family wanted our musical talent passed on to you. Though we want you to have the best possible life, we also want you to be able to choose what you do with it, and not feel pressured by our dreams for you. Both your father and I were born naturally, and have done just fine, thank you very much.

We did debate the issue, but couldn't draw a clear line between needs and wants. What's the difference between selecting your height or hair color and selecting whether you'll get this cancer-causing gene or that susceptibility to heart disease from one of us? Isn't that part of the wonder of reproduction? Of course, we don't want you to be susceptible to cancer, or other diseases, but both your father and I feel we value life more because of those we've lost to disease. We want you to grow up the same way, living each day to the fullest, not knowing when you will die or of what cause.

As a first-time mother, I've done everything I can think of to ensure that you'll be healthy. When your father and I decided that we wanted to have a child, I started eating only organic foods. Although most of my diet was organic before, I became much more vigilant. I have to say that I feel my health has improved as a result. I worry about the toxins that are present in so much of what we eat. I definitely didn't want to pass any of them to you. I guess your father and I are controlling some aspects of your yet-to-begin life. We're controlling environmental factors, though, not genetic ones.

Of course, your father and I realize that many of the students you will attend school with will have some genetic enhancement. We struggled with how fair it would be to you for us not to offer that to you, but again, we aren't convinced that it will make that big a difference. Neither your father nor I had genetic enhancement; we simply had tools given to us by our parents (an opportunity for education being the most important). And we've done quite well as a result. You too will have the opportunity to go to school, and we will provide you with any tools you need to succeed.

But we wanted you to be a product of us, not science. I hope we made the right decision.

Love, your mother.

September 2031
Dearest Molly,

As I write this, I can feel you kicking. I just reread the letter my mother wrote to me when she was pregnant with me, so I'm doing the same for you. My mom was right. Many of the students I went to school with had some form of genetic enhancement. For some, it was as simple as ensuring that they didn't need to wear glasses or braces. For others, it was to give them a particular talent or athletic ability. When I was growing up, I was frustrated that I wasn't naturally good at sports or the piano. I remember wishing my parents had selected for something to be "turned on" when I was created. They didn't, so I had to work hard to be good at soccer. But I think I was a better player for it. I practiced harder on my technical skills than some of the other girls, but I still made the varsity team, so really, I wasn't too far behind. In the end, I'm glad that your grandparents decided not to provide me with any extras. I know that I was successful because of me and my hard work, not because science made it easy for me.

That said, your father and I have done some selecting for you. The Canadian government lifted their voluntary moratorium on sex selection in 2025. Your father and I really wanted a girl for our first child, and so that's what we selected. Almost everything else, though, we've left to chance. Your father and I agreed that we wouldn't select any physical attributes for you--it doesn't always work out anyway. In some cases, children who weren't supposed to have glasses ended up being blind. The science isn't as perfect as laboratories and companies would have us believe. Like our parents, we don't want to pressure you into following a particular sport or creative avenue. But we have ensured that you do not have the genetic tendency toward several diseases. This is very common now, and nearly considered child abuse not to have it done. We want only the best for you.

With love, your mother.

September 2061
Dear Samantha,

Your birth is very close. As I read what my mum wrote to me, and what her mum wrote to her, I wonder if you will ever think I am as silly as they are. I can't imagine not selecting everything about you--from when you are born to the color of your hair to your height to your intelligence. What parents wouldn't want their child to be perfect? And you will be. I know you will appreciate these choices your father and I have made. Of course, you will be able to make your own decisions--what school you will attend, what profession you will enter, what sport you will excel at.

The reason your father and I made these choices is simple. I had to compete against the genetically best children throughout my life. I don't think they were any better than I was, but they certainly thought they were. That thought was enough to convince me that I wouldn't put you through the same experience. My mum was correct--mistakes do occur, but they are rare. In fact, the incidence of birth defects has dropped dramatically, even among non-genetic-best births. Some things have been completely eradicated. It is very rare for someone to have hearing problems, blindness, or even early gray in their hair.

Oh, Sam, you're going to be perfect. I selected you to be.

Love, Molly.

September 2091
Dear Shelly,

Reading what our grandmothers and great-grandmothers wrote is fantastic. But it makes me sad, too. I know they were only looking out for future generations when they made the decisions they did, but they took some things away from us, too. My parents didn't realize how much they would affect you when they removed some genes from me. Who knew that the ability to heal quickly (which I can do) and the ability to bear children were so closely related? Doctors think that only 2% of women in the world can conceive and deliver children naturally now. Those women are so lucky.

Instead of feeling you grow inside me, I've had to watch you form in an incubator. You were conceived naturally, but as soon as doctors confirmed that I was pregnant, they removed you from my womb so you could grow healthily, without my body attacking you. I lost three babies before doctors figured out what was wrong. The incubator you are in now was originally built for mothers who didn't want to be bothered with pregnancy but who didn't trust another woman to be the surrogate mother. They would have their baby conceived and transplant them into the pseudo-womb. Now, most women don't have a choice.

We are no longer given the opportunity to select anything about our children. I know already that you are a girl, but what color hair you have, what strengths you have, and any weaknesses you have will be revealed in time. I think it's exciting. It won't be like my youth, where my mom constantly compared me with what the doctors promised I'd be. When I didn't walk when they said I would, or score as high on university entrance tests as she was guaranteed I would, she blamed it on the doctors. She never considered that I didn't want to score high on the tests and flunked them on purpose. And imagine her frustration when I grew to be three inches shorter than she expected. She was furious. I'm glad that everything didn't work how she planned. I hated her expectations and her anger that I wasn't as perfect as she had asked for me to be. I was alive and healthy; isn't that perfect enough? Now, as I watch you grow in your pseudo-womb, I understand her desire for me to be perfect, but I can't understand her willingness for me to be perfect without knowing the costs.

I take some comfort in knowing that the other children you'll be growing up with are in the same situation. At least there won't be any more comparison between genetic-bests and natural children. I promise to give you everything you need to grow and be happy, no matter what you want to do or be.

All my love, Sam.

About the Author:
Sarah Stephen is currently working toward a master's degree in applied communication at Royal Roads University in British Columbia. She wrote this essay as a student in Lynn Burton's future studies class at Simon Fraser University. E-mail sarahmstephen@hotmail.com.