What was the HFE Bill really for?

Those who supported the various alterations that the Human Fertilisation and Embryology Bill made or aspired to make to law most probably saw it as an opening up for discussion and reform of long-standing issues that were causing concern to various parties. Scientists wanted legal permission to create hybrid stem cells and increase production of embryonic stem cells besides. Liberals wanted to abolish the requirement for IVF providers to consider a child’s need for a father. Pro-lifers wanted to lower the time limit on abortions, apparently by any degree possible (votes were taken on reductions to 16, 18, 20 and 22 week limits). I’m not exactly sure how to politely stereotype those who wanted to legalize the practice of having a child so as to donate its body parts to a sibling.

The discussion and controversy that surrounded the bill and its amendments, however, made it appear a more and more curious parliamentary phenomenon - it gradually became clear that its various elements were basically unrelated as commentators spoke with the pretense of expertise in fields that were far from their own.

If we look at the arguments for considering some of the changes made, it becomes clear that there was a more subtle reason for introducing all these ideas at once, and one that may have indelibly increased the prerogatives of the government against the rule of common law in this country.

Let’s begin with the attempt to lower abortion limits. The argument used in opposition to this was that scientific evidence had not sufficiently changed since the 24-week limit was set even to show that children are ‘viable’ at twenty-two weeks. Whether this was the case or not (13 of 18 witnesses giving evidence to the Science and Technology Committee were known Pro-Choicers and many did not submit written reports), the argument’s strength rested on the fact that all ‘ethical debate’ on time limits had been ruled in favour of supposedly impartial ’scientific’ debate: terms of discussion had been established that prejudiced a given outcome, although this is less important than the fact that the debate had been limited in this way. The government had assumed the right to define human life, in this case by viability.

The debate concerning stem-cell research was full of red-herrings. Outspoken religious leaders bandied about sensationalist descriptions defaming both sides of the debate, whilst the scientific case in point - that adult, rather than embryonic, stem cells have produced the most significant advances in research - was ignored under the weight of scientistic rhetoric. Supporting stem-cell research per se was joined to the issue of ‘hybrid’ cells, an unnecessary confusion of separate issues. What was assumed all along was the forgone conclusion that human life should be defined exclusively and executively, rather than inclusively and cautiously: you are an inhuman without rights if you have a certain amount of animal DNA, and an inhuman and without rights if you are below a certain age or do not possess certain faculties.

The other two issues I have flagged up are relevant her insofar as they were irrelevant to each other and the other elements in the Bill. That is, we need to ask why they were included. The reasons for including an amendment to the Abortion Act revolved around the renewal and replacement of that piece of legislation, whereas IVF parenthood requirements are a social and fiscal, rather than scientific or negative-rights related. The ’saviour siblings’ section of the Bill is not related to human fertilization or embryology, but rather, perhaps, human termination and why some embryos are more worthy of life than others.

What a human is and when life begins is a philosophical question, not one that can be adequately addressed by legislation. This is why British common law is such an excellent tool to deal with its social and legal implications. Common law is cautious and case specific, ideally independent of party-political programs. Government legislation, however, affects the entire nation at once; it creates attitudes, delegitimizing some opinions and legitimating others. Yet in the HFE Bill we saw the latest assertion of this Government’s assumed right and ability to answer all our questions, make all our choices, for us.

By lumping all these different issues together, the real issue of whether we define human life exclusively (excluding others from humanity by chosen criteria that ’serve society’ like slave-traders and racialists) or inclusively was overlooked and the Government control over the answer to this question asserted. The artificial complexity of the Bill also made it nearly impossible for politicians who share my view - that morally ambiguous legislation be left to our common law tradition - to decide how to negotiate the issue. Abstention is seen as support or careerism. Voting no or yes agrees that Parliament is the place to deal with these issues - but it is not. Doubtless the HFE Bill is only part of a trend, where the state assumes prerogatives until we agree with them. It is a deeply regrettable trend, especially when such literally vital issues are at stake.

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5 Responses to “What was the HFE Bill really for?”

  1. Gavin Rice Says:

    I visited London only a few days ago, and as I passed the Palace of Westminster it struck me, in all its neo-Gothic finery, as a house of lies and deceit akin to the Great Whore Babylon in the Book of Revelation. Not content at bowing my knee to the Baal that is the British governmental establishment, I passed by without a second glance at the anti-war protesters who had resorted to waving banners that read “Honk if you love taxis” in order to give the illusion that their cause is popular, I continued on my journey to Westminster Cathedral. It occurred to me that the MPs in Parliament and the protesters outside had one thing in common: they both arrogantly assume that have they have some kind of access to moral truth that is unavailable to normal citizens, and as such they have to wave patronising banners in our faces, and blight our statute books with evil bills.

    I used to be a raving statist. Not as a socialist, but as a socially conservative authoritarian. I still have this streak in me, but I have mellowed somewhat: not on any of the issues, but on the role of the state. The state cannot be a moral enforcer, because it will inevitably result in being an immoral enforcer. The last place in which it is appropriate to debate issues such as practical and meta-ethics and the philosophy of the human self is the House of Commons (this is part of the reason why having Parliament as the legislature for the Church of England is so absurd). The point is, the government doesn’t know what is and is not immoral: the excrutiatingly poor level of philosophical debate evident in the Commons during the debate of the HFE Bill (especially from the Labour back benches, it has to be said) provided ample evidence of this. On the odd occasion that government policy coincides with my own beliefs about what kind of behaviour ought to be encouraged (for example if the Tories win the next election and introduce tax breaks for married couples), then I will support state action. However, as in the majority of cases the government functions at best as an amoral vacuum and at worst as a malignant force attempting to stamp its own dogmatic (and flawed) version of morality onto the population, I now generally support the government being as weak and limited as possible. If the moral robustness necessary to rescue our broken and selfish society is to be found anywhere, it is unlikely to come from bleeding-heart protesters with rainbow banners, but it is even less likely to come from Westminster or Whitehall.

    My views on the HFE Bill are probaby guess-able, but what really irritates me is the presumptive arrogance of government, and its self-proclaimed moral infallibility. To continue by Biblical imagery, it is as if Gordon Brown and his cronies claim the full Power of the Keys of St Peter. Quite simply, this is why government needs to stay out of where it is not welcome: the judiciary (as Hugh points out), and, more generally, the lives of its citizens.

  2. Hugo Hadlow Says:

    Perhaps it is due to association with the state that “here in Britain, the church has given up on morality and tends to take a socialist approach, calling for more big government” (as James Bartholemew puts it at http://www.thewelfarestatewerein.com/archives/2007/04/charles_murrays.php).

    It is this subtle influence of any association with the state that corrupts all organisations. It is also responsible for the O’Sullivanisation of charity and private welfare. (O’Sullivan’s First Law: All organizations that are not actually right-wing will over time become left-wing. It is also one of Robert Conquest’s Three Laws of Politics. Conquest gave the Church of England and Amnesty International as examples of this law. I give Oxfam and Christian Aid. Paul Collier describes the capture of Christian Aid by Marxists in “The Bottom Billion”.)

    (Disclaimer: I am an atheist and have described myself as “a fan of abortion”. I want the Church of England to be disestablished on principle, and to remove the Bishops from the House of Lords. When representatives of the church do espouse their traditional views on euthanasia, for example, I disagree with them and don’t want them blocking the legalisation of euthanasia.)

  3. Gavin Rice Says:

    It is natural that the Church of England should become an arm of the state and it’s own politics, yes. For example, the current trend of political opinion in Anglicanism could best be described as socially liberal (compared with many strains of Christianity) and economically left-wing (again, relatively). This is why it ought to be, so to speak, “privatised”. Since there is very little that is distinctive about it, I wonder how it would react to the loss of its one unique feature, i.e. establishment.

    That said, I’ll have to agree to disagree with Hugo on everything else that he says, including Anglican Bishops in the Lords. I’m not an Anglican, and I don’t feel represented by Anglican Bishops, and I don’t think they ought to be part of our political establishment for any moral or theological reason. However, I make no secret of the fact that I see no great moral goal in greater levels of democracy, and I think having an elected Upper House will probably spell the end of our distinctive political system. Put simply, the Bishops are not involved in party politics and by and large say sensible things (in my view), and have no political or financial ambition. Furthermore, in general I feel that any constitutional change is likely to be for the worse and therefore ought to be resisted. I feel a bit of old-fashioned Reaction wouldn’t go amiss.

  4. Hugo Hadlow Says:

    http://custodian-online.blogspot.com/2008/04/fightin-evil-lenders-to-max.html

    Hey, hey, I didn’t say I wanted a democratic House of Lords. Members of parties would probably be elected to the Lords in similar proportions as they are to the House of Commons of the day, and party whips would direct them to vote the same way. What would be the point of a second chamber guaranteed to agree with the first? In fact, it would be worse because the ruling class would be sure to establish an electoral system for the Lords that favoured them.

    I’d like it back as it was ten years ago, with hereditary peers, who as you say are free of party pressure, minus the Bishops, who (in my view) have been wrong-headed about pretty much everything. (I don’t really see the need to privatise the Church of England. It isn’t state funded, though state funding should still go towards the upkeep of certain churches and cathedrals. I don’t particularly mind about it being the “official” church because this has no significant consequences. I don’t think that great benefits would result from the removal of the Church of England from ceremonies such as Coronation.)

    I agree with you that democracy is not an end in itself. It is a means to an end; liberty, which is desirable to maximise prosperity and happiness. Maximising liberty means minimising coercion as much as is possible (it cannot be eliminated), for which we must grant the state a monopoly of coercion. To stop the state doing bad, there are two possibilities: the Rule of Men (democracy or tyranny; both arbitrary) or the Rule of Law (non-arbitrary; preferable). Laws need men to uphold them: the state needs people to run it. Clearly it is better that the people running the state can be removed and replaced, than not. Democracy is coercive and arbitrary, but at least we can make it less coercive than an undemocratic state would be. Some democracy is necessary, though not absolute democracy: a written constitution and private property are required to stop “the tyranny of the majority”.

    Surely you must agree that many bad things have been done recently by the ruling elite which do not have the support of the people (the EU, the abolition of the death penalty) and which would not have happened if we had truly representative democracy.

  5. Gavin Rice Says:

    We are agreed on democracy not being an end in itself, but I don’t agree that prosperity, happiness (in the sense of material wealth, pleasure and hedonism) or liberty are necessarily desirable ends in themselves either. In fact, the promotion of a false notion of “liberty” as an ultimate and universal good has resulted in the collapse of Western civilisation into a value-free world without roots or identity.

    In relation to the Church of England, I meant that the Church would benefit from privatisation, I don’t believe that society either profits or suffers because of Establishment. Were denominations and circumstances different I might be a die-hard ecclesiastical Establishmentarian, but since the Anglican Church is now so spiritually and morally bankrupt it has nothing to offer society but a reflection of societal values. Privatising it might allow it to adopt some sense of identity other than “English state church”.

    More to the point, the fact that recent bad policies are contrary to the will of the people is neither here nor there, it is only that they are bad policies that is important. If we had a more representative or democratic system I’m confident that policies would be just as bad, if not worse. The elite may have made mistakes about the EU, in my view they were right about the death penalty. I think abolishing an ill-informed elite and replacing it with an even more ill-informed dictatorship of the proletariat would be cultural suicide.

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