Deadly Language Games: Theological Reflections on Emerging Reproductive Technologies

Abstract

This issue of Christian Bioethics explores theological, metaphysical, and ethical questions surrounding emerging reproductive technologies. Narratives concerning such technologies are often manipulated via “language games.” Language games involve toying with language to ensure that one’s vision of the good gains or retains political prominence. Such games are common in academic discussions of “artificial womb” technologies. Abortion proponents, for example, are already using language to dehumanize subjects within “artificial wombs.” This is unsurprising. Were relevant subjects considered persons, then abortion access (and other forms of “reproductive autonomy”) might be curtailed. Here, I show that abortion proponents’ language games often depend on dubious metaphysical claims. Second, I argue that Christians should oppose dehumanizing language games, since those games undermine “neighbor-love,” which Christians are commanded to show others. I also highlight how discussions of other technologies—such as medication abortion—are affected by confused (or manipulative) language. Ultimately, the language games I critique aim to preserve and expand the “rights” of the powerful to dehumanize, control, and kill vulnerable human beings. Since neighbor-love commands Christians to provide for “the least of these,” however, Christians must expose these manipulative language games, refute them, and resist the corrupt ideologies from which they flow.

I. INTRODUCTION

This issue of Christian Bioethics explores theological, metaphysical, and ethical questions regarding emerging reproductive technologies. By “emerging,” I mean technologies that have been implemented recently or are on the cusp of being implemented (say, within 1–2 decades). “Reproductive technologies” pertain to procreation, gametes, embryos, fetuses, and neonates. Examples include medication abortion (e.g., methotrexate and mifepristone), Natural Procreative Technology (NaPro),¹ or other technologies aimed at preventing unintended intrauterine death,² “artificial wombs,” gene-editing technologies, uterine transplants, and embryoids or “synthetic embryos.”³Christian Bioethics has examined some of these topics, with past issues devoted to IVF, the doctrine of double effect, germ-line gene therapy, and abortion.⁴ The speed with which new technologies are developed and normalized, however, means Christian thinkers must never “fall asleep at the wheel.” We must continually engage in ethical deliberation regarding new technologies.

In this essay, I explore how narratives surrounding emerging reproductive technologies are being controlled, especially by means of manipulative language. Recent academic discussions are saturated with “language games” which, roughly, involve toying with language to ensure that one’s vision of the good gains or retains political prominence. Relevant language games often aim to insulate and expand the “rights” of those in power, including “rights” to dehumanize, control, and kill vulnerable human beings.⁵ Insofar as Christians should defend the rights of the innocent—including human rights, which extend to “all members of the human family,” no matter their age, race, sex, or state of dependence on others—they should work to expose these language games, refute them, and resist the ideologies from which they flow.⁶

I proceed as follows. In Section II, I describe (what I call) “contemporary programs of control” and the language games their advocates often play. In Section III, I discuss language concerning (so-called) “artificial womb” technologies. Doing so allows us to see through the language games that pervade academic discussions of these technologies. From there, I outline the other five essays within this issue of Christian Bioethics. The first three focus on artificial womb technologies and the latter two focus on medication abortion. While discussing these essays, I highlight three themes that appear throughout: (1) humanity’s fascination with (illicit) control over new human life, (2) common—and violent—reactions of those in power when their control is threatened, and (3) the fact that seizing control over new human life undermines what Kierkegaard calls “neighbor-love.” I conclude that failure to resist programs of control means abandoning the most vulnerable human beings to the whims of violent oppressors. Since Christians have been commanded to love their neighbor, they must oppose such programs of control—and the systemic violence that results—wherever possible.

II. CONTEMPORARY PROGRAMS OF CONTROL: PREYING WITHOUT CEASING

By “contemporary programs of control” I mean current social and political ideologies, movements, and organizations that work (whether explicitly or in effect) to instrumentalize and subjugate human life itself. Both legalized slavery and the ideologies on which it was based, for example, are paradigmatic cases of past programs of control (wherein some human beings were subjugated for the use and benefit of others). Whether past or present, programs of control contradict the International Theological Commission’s (ITC) statement that human beings “cannot be subordinated as a pure means or instrument either to the species or to society” (2004, 64). “Subordination,” the ITC continues, may apply “only to objects with a merely instrumental value, but not to objects which are good in themselves” (2004, 82). Human individuals are “good in themselves” at every stage of life. Hence, we cannot treat them as mere, disposable objects. Advocates of illicit control flout these prohibitions. To them, new human life is extrinsically good (at most); new human life does not bear God’s image but our image, new life is manufactured to fulfill our desires in the name of our autonomy, and so, we ought to be permitted to create and dispose of it as we see fit.⁷

Emerging reproductive technologies provide new opportunities for the powerful to manipulate human life according to their whims. As Levin and Birnbaum observe, “where precedent is scant, as in many new bioethical issues, there is more room for creativity in interpretation and novel principles are more likely to emerge” (2000, 473). “Creativity,” of course, may be used for good or for ill (and programs of control are often keen to enlist new technologies into their service). Consider, for example, the fertility industry which already produces, objectifies, commodifies, and kills human beings (often arbitrarily and in the name of “reproductive autonomy”). Mainstream assisted reproductive technologies (like IVF) entrust “the life and identity of the embryo into the power of doctors and biologists and establishes the domination of technology over the origin and destiny of the human person.”⁸ These processes reduce children from “gift” to commodity. Children become mere things that can be manufactured, purchased, and destroyed as one wishes.

C.S. Lewis articulates the implication of these practices well. He observes that this kind of exertion of technological control over human life ensures that:

[future generations] are, without their concurring voice, made to be what one generation, for its own reasons, may choose to prefer. From this point of view, what we call Man’s power over Nature turns out to be a power exercised by some men over other men with Nature as its instrument. (Lewis, 2009, 25–26)

The exercise of power “by some men over other men,” in this case, refers to born, mature human beings who use their power to dehumanize and instrumentalize unborn human beings. Unsurprisingly, calls for the equal rights of unborn human beings are often met with resistance. As the saying goes, “when you’re accustomed to privilege, equality feels like oppression.”⁹ It is only natural that those who objectify new human life will perceive equality with the unborn—the object of their control—to be threatening (if not absurd). Indeed, Scripture reveals that the powerful often respond badly when their control is threatened. Notably, killing of the innocent is a common practice among oppressors.¹⁰

Discussions of ethical issues and new human life—especially issues that pertain to the fertility industry—are not new. Some language games surrounding emerging reproductive technologies are new, however, especially those pertaining to “artificial womb” technologies. These games are often being played by self-described “value-neutral” (or “unbiased”) authors who aim, whether intentionally or in effect, to bolster oppressive control over new human life.¹¹ In what follows, I expose and critique these language games. To do this well, we must first discuss artificial womb technologies generally.

III. “ARTIFICIAL WOMBS” AND ARTIFICIAL WOMBS

Artificial womb technologies are designed to sustain the lives of very young human subjects by allowing them to develop within an apparatus that mimics an in-utero environment.¹² Language surrounding these technologies is often confused.¹³ This is concerning since—as Gordon and Washofsky note—language “implies a value orientation, a particular way of looking at the world” (2009, 321).¹⁴ How we talk about artificial womb technologies and subjects within them, therefore, is inextricably tied up with how we value them. If, for instance, we claim that artificial wombs “continue gestation”—and so, subjects within them “have not been born”—then there is conceptual space to regard those subjects as less than (legal) persons.¹⁵ Such language lends itself to regarding relevant subjects as deserving fewer rights than typical neonates. Alternatively, if we clarify that upon extraction from their mothers’ bodies, gestation ceases—and so, relevant subjects “have been born”—then we may see (quite clearly) that they are (legal) persons.¹⁶ Thus, the rights and lives of human beings hinge on how we talk about “birth,” “gestation,” and the “human subjects” themselves. We must get the language right.

Imprecision in language (regarding artificial womb technologies) has already contributed to authors defending dubious metaphysical, moral, and legal claims. Romanis, for example, claims these technologies “prolong gestation” (2018, 752). This requires a redefinition of “gestation.” “Gestation” refers to the “the period in animals bearing live young . . . from the fertilization of the egg to birth of the young” or “the carrying of young in the uterus.”¹⁷ The process occurring within artificial wombs does not involve “animals bearing” anything (nor does fetal growth occur “in the uterus”). Instead, machines sustain human subjects in a womb-like apparatus (and so, artificial wombs are wombs in name only).¹⁸ To clarify this point even further, consider just the physiological development that embryos and fetuses typically undergo in utero (independently of the relational process—the bearing or carrying of a child—that holds between mother and child during pregnancy). Call the process of fetal development “gestation*.”

Gestation, we saw, occurs when human beings are growing in utero. It refers to a fetus’s developmental process and to the role played by the mother’s body in that process. “To gestate” is something women do, it is not merely the developmental process that fetuses typically undergo.¹⁹ Failure to acknowledge that women are essential to gestation risks relegating women to a position of secondary importance in discussions of artificial womb technologies. Notably, authors in this space often insist that we should not marginalize women like this.²⁰ So, let gestation* refer solely to the process of growth that is typically experienced by young human beings in utero. Once artificial womb technologies become available, gestation* may occur in utero or ex utero. Given the difference between gestation and gestation*, moreover, we can say—with absolute precision—that artificial womb technologies involve ecto-gestation*.

With this in mind, we should categorize artificial womb technologies as follows. Most generally, there are “perinatal life support technologies” (PLTs).²¹ Following the NHS, “perinatal” refers to “the time between conceiving a baby until the end of the first postnatal year” (2020). So, all life-sustaining technologies applied to human subjects during this stage of life will count as PLTs. That means PLTs include both standard NICU technologies—which do not involve artificial gestation—and emerging reproductive technologies (which do involve artificial gestation). Call the latter “artificial-gestation technologies” or “AGTs.”²² Conceptually, there are two kinds of AGTs: “transfer” and “non-transfer” AGTs, respectively.

Transfer AGTs support neonates that developed in utero for some time before being transferred from their mothers’ bodies to AGTs.²³ In the near future, transfer AGTs may be used for neonates born at or around the current viability line (22–24 weeks gestation).²⁴ Transfer AGTs, therefore, are an “emerging reproductive technology.” Non-transfer AGTs are designed (theoretically) to sustain subjects from conception until extraction.²⁵ Non-transfer AGTs, therefore, sustain subjects that were never gestated at all.²⁶ Both types of AGTs mimic an in-utero environment to facilitate the developmental process (i.e., gestation*) that typically occurs in utero. With this taxonomy in mind, we may now consider ethical and theological issues involving AGTs as discussed by other contributors to this issue of Christian Bioethics.

IV. A PRIMER ON AGTs FOR CHRISTIAN READERS

Rodger and Blackshaw (2024) begin the issue by outlining ethical and theological questions generated by AGTs. Their essay provides a great starting place for Christians who are unfamiliar with AGTs but who want to understand the moral landscape. Generally, Rodger and Blackshaw (2024) argue that transfer AGTs are morally benign, while non-transfer AGTs are more worrisome. Transfer AGTs, after all, are “likely to significantly decrease maternal and neonatal morbidity and mortality.” This is partly because transfer AGTs will likely be superior to current NICU technologies. As Rodger and Blackshaw note, “neonates born before 28 weeks have a high chance of suffering complications such as bronchopulmonary dysplasia” (2024, 88). Since transfer AGTs “show considerable promise in preventing such conditions in animals,” they may benefit “extremely premature neonates” in significant ways. Transfer AGTs may also lower “viability limits.” A lower viability line gives some neonates a chance at survival in cases where, with today’s technology, death is certain. Lowering the viability line may also allow for tighter “legal limits for abortion” (Rodger and Blackshaw, 2024, 87). Hence, transfer AGTs may protect young human beings from natural and intentionally caused death alike.

Abortion proponents have recognized the threat to abortion “rights” posed by transfer AGTs.²⁷ Romanis, for example, claims that “historically, technology has been politically captured to afford increased legitimacy for measures that subject pregnant people to greater control” (2020, 90). For example, “better neonatal intensive care has resulted in increased legal restrictions on abortion” (Romanis, 2020, 90). Put differently, as we become better at preserving young lives, it becomes harder to justify our wanton killing of them. For those in power, this will not do. This is why elsewhere, Romanis laments that transfer AGTs may lead to a “culture of caution,” worrying that “caution might take root amongst medical practitioners who perceive increased [neonatal] survival ex utero as cause for unease about all abortion provision” (2019b, 116–117). Caution threatens unrestrained control. For advocates of control over new life, therefore, steps must be taken to ensure that clinicians do not become tempted into humanizing the subjects within transfer AGTs.

Setting aside transfer AGTs, Rodger and Blackshaw argue that non-transfer AGTs may exacerbate the ongoing “commodification of children” and “pathologizing of pregnancy and childbirth” (2024, 86). When children are grown rather than gestated, the authors argue, children will be “detached from humanity, originating almost entirely from technology rather than human relationship” (Rodger and Blackshaw, 2024, 88). Children, then, will be artifacts of our own making entirely—created, grown, and harvested—which, Rodger and Blackshaw claim, “undermines the notion of human equality” (2024, 89). This, the authors claim, is because “when you create something, you get to decide its worth, rather than merely being thankful that it exists” (Rodger and Blackshaw, 2024, 89). Here, we see the difference between Christianity (which asserts that all human life is intrinsically valuable) and values central to many contemporary programs of control (which characteristically regard human life to be only as valuable as those in power judge it to be).²⁸

Advocates of (illicit) control have recognized the potential of non-transfer AGTs to extend control over new human life. Firestone, for instance, claims that non-transfer AGTs could provide women with “liberation from the biological yoke of pregnancy” (2003, 75).²⁹ Cavaliere elaborates, locating “in nature the cause of ‘fundamental inequality’ whereby ‘half of the human race must bear and rear the children for all of them’” (2019, 80).³⁰ Non-transfer AGTs, in other words, could “liberate” women from their own physiology. Moreover, Cavaliere adds that AGTs might promote “women’s positive reproductive freedom by enabling them to beget children in the way they deem fit” (2019, 78). Benefits of non-transfer AGTs, therefore, come in two forms: they may free women from their “natural” inequalities and may also provide greater control over reproduction (e.g., to “beget” children in whatever way we wish).

The above claims by Firestone and Cavaliere seemingly suggest that female reproductive function is inherently inferior, disadvantageous, or in need of correction as compared to male reproductive function.³¹ Nature, after all, is said to have generated a “fundamental inequality” between males and females (at least with respect to reproductive capacities). In stark contrast, the ITC emphasizes that “the Bible lends no support to the notion of a natural superiority of the masculine over the feminine sex. Their differences notwithstanding, the two sexes enjoy an inherent equality” (2004, 36). This authentically feminist idea—that by nature, women are not unequal to men—appears in works by Celia Wolf-Devine (1989), Erika Bachiochi (2021), and Frederica Mathewes-Green (2013).³² Feminists for Life also puts the view well:

[This] is the premise of male domination throughout the millennia – that it was nature which made men superior and women inferior. Medical technology is offered as a solution to achieve equality; but the premise is wrong. Nature doesn’t provide for inequality, and it’s an insult to women to say women must change biology in order to fit into society. (Beckwith, 2007, 112)

Bachiochi adds that “early generations of women’s advocates worked not for women to imitate dissolute men” but rather “argued for sexual integrity for both sexes” (2021, 16). The goal of early feminist movements, in other words, was not to “liberate” women from the “biological yoke of pregnancy.” Such thinking, Bachiochi argues, “denigrate[s] women” (2021, 17). True equality does not “erase” or “cancel out the differences between men and women” (Congregation for Catholic Education, 2019, 3). Instead, true equality involves reconciling differences between the sexes “within reciprocal relationships of mutual respect, interdependence, and collaboration in all realms of life” (Bachiochi, 2021, 249). This account of equality squares perfectly with “the Christian tradition” which speaks “of a reciprocity and complementarity” between the sexes (International Theological Commission, 2004, 35).³³ Hence, insofar as AGTs may be said to “liberate” women from their own physiology, they invite a clash between competing accounts of feminism and female sexuality (at the very least).

What of Cavaliere’s claim that AGTs could allow people to beget children however they “deem fit” (2019, 78)? Rodger and Blackshaw argue that when combined with access to AGTs (especially non-transfer AGTs), this kind of thinking—which may involve the perception that children are merely a product of our own desires and creation; something we may create however we “deem fit”—may exacerbate the “commodification of children” already occurring today (2024, 86). To illustrate this present trend, Bachiochi argues that abortion access “promoted a view of childbearing as one consumer choice among many” (2021, 15). Mathewes-Green adds that “having a child” now “looks like a quirky hobby” (2013, 132). If Rodger and Blackshaw (2024) are correct, then AGTs stand to exacerbate these misperceptions. Christianity rejects the child-as-commodity mentality and so, Christians must resist the narratives surrounding AGTs that are being advanced by advocates of illicit control. That said, non-transfer AGTs may not be all bad. As Rodger and Blackshaw note, non-transfer AGTs could be used to rescue hundreds of thousands of frozen embryos that have been “abandoned by their biological parents” (2024, 96). Christopher Gross (2024) examines this possibility at length.

V. AGTs CANNOT SOLVE THE FROZEN EMBRYO CRISIS

The frozen embryo crisis is straightforward: “there are well over 400,000 frozen embryos in the United States, and many of them have been abandoned by their biological parents” (Gross, 2024, 96). By Catholic doctrine, these embryos are considered people; they possess profound intrinsic value. Each, however, faces the prospect of being frozen indefinitely or killed (for any number of reasons). How should those who recognize the true value of human life intervene? According to the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (CDF), nothing can be done. CDF states, “the thousands of abandoned embryos represent a situation of injustice which in fact cannot be resolved” (2008, 19).

While some authors have argued that non-transfer AGTs could provide a morally licit solution to the frozen embryo crisis,³⁴ Gross sides with the CDF. Gross argues that even if non-transfer AGTs could rescue frozen embryos, such technologies are “not a morally licit answer” to the ongoing crisis, “given the widespread use and approval of IVF in our culture” (2024, 96). Even if non-transfer AGTs were used to preserve the lives of frozen embryos, doing so would carry the “potential for scandal and cooperation in evil” and so cannot be justified. Ultimately, the problem is that non-transfer AGTs require IVF. Donum vitae states that IVF is illicit, given that it replaces “mutual self-giving by moving procreation outside of marriage and into laboratories, thereby turning children into commodities” and this runs “contrary to the dignity and equality that must be common to parents and children” (Gross, 2024, 97). Since non-transfer AGTs extend—or encourage—a morally impermissible process, their use is also morally impermissible.³⁵ The possibility of “scandal” looms large as well, since embryo adoption (even via non-transfer AGTs) “may lead Catholics . . . toward accepting IVF” (Gross, 2024, 101).

To bolster Gross’s case, consider that “over 70% of Protestant Christians” apparently approve of IVF (Rodger and Blackshaw, 2024, 93). Given this trend among Protestants, Gross’s worry—that IVF may gain wider acceptance among Catholics—seems reasonable. Worse, that Protestants support IVF so widely likely undermines collective attempts on their part to defend the value of human life (e.g., when taking a public stance against abortion).³⁶ If Catholics follow Protestants regarding IVF, their opposition to abortion may appear hypocritical as well (and so might be dismissed quickly).³⁷ Faithful Catholics must not compromise their commitment to the profound and intrinsic value of human life. Doing so would enable ongoing, systemic violence against the innocent to continue. Thus, as Gross argues, until there is a “cultural revelation concerning the immorality of IVF”—which would allow us to rescue frozen embryos without the possibility of scandal—the frozen embryo crisis will remain a “situation of injustice which in fact cannot be resolved” (2024, 102).

VI. AGTs THREATEN THE THEOLOGICAL SIGNIFICANCE OF GESTATION AND BIRTH

So far, contributors agree that using transfer AGTs is probably morally licit. Non-transfer AGTs were viewed with greater suspicion. Matthew Lee Anderson continues this trend, assessing the theological significance of non-transfer AGTs by focusing on how “having been born” shapes our understanding of God and ourselves (2024, 107). As Anderson puts things, we should consider what is “valuable about gestation and birth before we decide to do away with them” (2024, 107). Ultimately, Anderson argues, “our understanding of God and ourselves might be altered if we gestate human life outside the womb” (2024, 108).³⁸ To elaborate, Anderson (2024) explores theological insights from Saint Augustine and Karl Barth on the nature of humanity’s “whence”.³⁹

For Augustine, Anderson writes, “[h]aving been born fuels Augustine’s theological imagination, such that its significance pervades both his soteriology and ecclesiology—and even inflects his understanding of God himself” (2024, 110). Life in utero presents Augustine with an epistemic limit—a kind of “darkness”—in terms of his understanding of himself (Anderson, 2024, 108). Contemplating this inaccessible whence leads Augustine to “consider his mutability” especially in contrast to “God’s immutability” (Anderson, 2024, 108). Furthermore, when considering the earliest stages of life, Augustine reflects on his “near-total dependence on others” through whom God’s grace and mercies flow (Anderson, 2024, 108). As such, Augustine’s “depiction of his early life frames the ‘natural’ as a type of God’s work of grace;” God’s grace flows through one’s natural parents upon whom embryos and fetuses depend (Anderson, 2024, 109). This giving—the flow of grace—occurs “beneath the conscious intentionality or decision on either side” since it was “neither his ‘mother [n]or [his] nurses who made any decision to fill their breasts, but [God] who through them gave [him] infant food’” (Anderson, 2024, 109).

These natural, subconscious processes are contrary to processes associated with AGTs. Non-transfer AGTs, in particular, involve intentionality and conscious decision-making throughout the entire process: human subjects are created in a lab, screened, selected, grown, and extracted or killed. Subjects of non-transfer AGTs, therefore, are more projects than persons. Hence, Anderson writes, “retrospectively considering the value of our whence forces us to weigh the risks and harms” that non-transfer AGTs may have on “future generations” who will be deprived of “the opportunity to share in an event that has pervasively shaped our understanding of the world” (2024, 116). In other words, subjects of non-transfer AGTs may come into the world perceived to be mere things—artifacts of human ingenuity, intention, and choice—an entirely different whence than their ancestors.⁴⁰ The potential for theological and anthropological damage caused by this shift in humanity’s whence should not be underestimated.

Tying contributors’ views together, I now argue that if AGTs become available in a world that already shows too little regard for the value of new human life, results could be catastrophic. This is especially obvious, given preemptive efforts of abortion proponents to undermine the moral (and legal) status of subjects within transfer AGTs. In Section VII, I get into the weeds of recent discussions of AGTs. My intent is to show that contributors’ concerns over AGTs are vindicated, given the language games being played in these academic discussions. Next, in Section VIII, I explain why the programs of control (from which these language games flow) are opposed to what Kierkegaard calls “neighbor-love.” Thus, Christians must oppose both these language games and, more broadly, initiatives to create a society that systematically dehumanizes subjects within AGTs.

VII. DISCUSSIONS OF THE SUBJECTS WITHIN AGTs: AN INCUBATOR FOR MANIPULATION

As noted in Section IV, AGTs both threaten programs of control and promise to expand them. As a threat, AGTs may be used as justification to control others’ “reproductive freedom” or may produce a “culture of caution” in which clinicians start to humanize fetuses (and so, become increasingly hesitant to provide abortions generally) (Romanis, 2019b, 116–117). As an opportunity for expansion, AGTs—especially non-transfer AGTs—may provide incredible means of controlling new life (e.g., to beget children however we “deem fit”) (Cavaliere, 2019, 78). Those who wish to promote (illicit) control over new human life, therefore, must proceed carefully. To best control public policy, manipulating common language is a good starting place. Romanis, for instance, claims that “carefully framed political provocation . . . can prevent political capture of technology” by advocates of “regressive [anti-abortion] policies” (2020, 89–90). Frame things in the right way, in other words, and one vision of the good—which enshrines the “right” to kill one’s children—can retain its place of privilege.⁴¹ So, let the language games begin.

First, for programs of control to thrive, subjects within AGTs must not be thought of as persons. Were they considered persons, then (a) AGTs might disrupt abortion access and (b) AGTs could not be used to maximize “reproductive autonomy.” To prevent humanization of subjects within AGTs, a preemptive and linguistic attack is underway. The attack is disguised, however, behind a declaration of neutrality. Readers are instructed to use language that is “value-neutral and without specific legal boundaries attached to it” to allow for “fuller and more comprehensive investigation of the potential ethico-legal issues arising from (partial) gestation outside of the body” (Romanis 2023, 91). Nonneutral language (e.g., calling subjects in AGTs “neonates” or, worse, “babies”) would contaminate our inquiry. So, we are told, we need a new, sterile vocabulary when discussing AGTs.

In this new vocabulary, what should we call the subjects within AGTs? They are not “fetuses,” since that term refers only to individuals growing in utero.⁴² “Neonate” does not apply either, since, according to Kingma and Finn, subjects within transfer AGTs will only have completed “birth-by-location” (i.e., they have been removed from their mothers’ uteruses) (2020, 360). They have not completed “birth-by-physiology” though, since they still function like fetuses (Romanis, 2019a, 727). So, neither “fetus” nor “neonate” refers to subjects within AGTs. Whatever term we use for them should pick out human beings that are “born-by-location,” but not yet “born-by-physiology.” Three options have been proposed: “fetonate,” “gestateling,” and “perinate.”⁴³ I consider each.

De Bie et al. introduce “fetonate” meaning “neonates kept in a fetal physiological state” (2023, 2). So, fetonates are a kind of neonate, similarly to how “preemie” denotes a kind of neonate today. This seems reasonable. The problem is that it threatens control. Were “fetonates” widely considered to be a kind of neonate (i.e., persons), then it would be harder to objectify, commodify, and dispose of them. That is something for which advocates of illicit control will not stand. On cue, Romanis rejects “fetonate” (2023, 90). “Fetonate,” Romanis argues, is “oxymoronic” since fetuses are “part of a pregnant” woman while neonates are “a separate entity” (2023, 90). “Fetonate,” therefore, refers to something that is both part of its mother’s body and not (at the same time).⁴⁴ Moreover, we are told, “fetonate” does not “clarify for putative parents what their product of reproduction is” (Romanis, 2023, 90–91). As such, “a unique term is needed to describe the subject . . . to ensure public/putative parents’ understanding of the technology and how the entity within it” (allegedly) differs from neonates (Romanis, 2023, 90).

The “unique term” Romanis proposes is “gestateling” (2023, 90–91). “Gestateling” refers to human subjects “gestating ex utero” (Romanis, 2018, 751). Here, we have a truly sterile term: it will not contaminate discussions of AGTs with value-laden connotations as “neonate” would. Since “gestateling” is not value-laden, it better emphasizes “to putative parents the uniqueness of the state of their product of reproduction” (Romanis, 2023, 90). That is, “gestateling” helps people understand that subjects in AGTs are different from neonates. At least two problems arise for Romanis’s project.

First, the proposal is not remotely “value-neutral.” Claims to value-neutrality—coupled with phrases like “putative parents” and “product of reproduction”—are untenable. “Putative parents”—referring to adults whose offspring reside within AGTs—suggests they are not yet parents (as though the parental relationship begins some time post-conception). This is a substantial (non-neutral) position on parenthood.⁴⁵ Further, that any child is adequately described merely as a “product of reproduction” is contentious. This wording suggests that children are an it, not a them (as though they are mere things with extrinsic value alone). In this way, Romanis’s language commodifies, objectifies, and dehumanizes.⁴⁶ When challenged by Colgrove (2019) on this matter, Romanis claims—without defense—that moral status “is subjectively attributed rather than innate” (2019a, 728–729). Again, such a claim is deeply contentious. As such, despite her call for value-neutrality, Romanis’ language and metaethical assumptions cannot reasonably be regarded as “value-neutral.”

Second, the need for a third term (e.g., “gestateling”) is supposedly grounded by important “metaphysical” differences between fetuses, neonates, and subjects of AGTs (Romanis, 2023, 90). If subjects within AGTs are a new, unique kind of human being, then giving them a new name makes sense. Alternatively, if these subjects are not unique, then invention of a third term is unwarranted. So, why think that subjects within AGTs are unique? A pattern emerges in the literature. Authors begin by documenting some physiological differences between subjects in AGTs and other human beings (e.g., neonates in the NICU). Next, authors assert (typically without much defense) that these physiological differences ground some important metaphysical difference(s).⁴⁷ Romanis’ defense of this “metaphysical” distinction is just a list of physiological differences between neonates and subjects within AGTs (2018, 752). Nothing explains why the list has metaphysical import.⁴⁸ By analogy, consider human beings who are connected to dialysis machines or on cardiopulmonary bypass. They function differently from most others and are reliant on technology in a unique way. Should we conclude that these individuals possess a new, distinct metaphysical status? Are they “dialysislings” or “bypasslings?” No. So, even though AGTs work differently from standard NICU technologies, that is no clear reason to regard subjects within them as metaphysically unique.

Kingma and Finn expand on Romanis’ view, drawing a distinction between “birth-by-location” and “birth-by-physiology” (2020, 360). Neonates in the NICU satisfy both types of “birth” (and so, are fully born). Subjects within transfer AGTs, however, have only been “born-by-location.” Kingma and Finn then list numerous physiological differences between subjects within AGTs and neonates in the NICU (2020, 359). Again, we never hear why these physiological differences have metaphysical import. Instead, after listing physiological differences, the authors assert that “our analysis so far illuminates in what way birth is more than just a morally relevant change of location from within the gestator’s physical body to outside it” (Kingma and Finn, 2020, 359). Their analysis does no such thing. As explained by Rodger, Blackshaw, and Colgrove, two processes are in play (2020, 2–4). First, there is birth (i.e., birth-by-location) which is well defined as involving mere extraction or expulsion from the mother’s body. Second, there are the physiological adjustments that one must undergo to survive (long-term) ex utero, at least without aid of AGTs. Kingma and Finn do nothing to show that the latter (physiological adjustments) are required for birth. If anything, Kingma and Finn make the classic mistake of assuming that since birth and relevant physiological changes usually go together, there must be a necessary connection between them.⁴⁹ Transfer AGTs, however, split that connection, showing that birth can occur without a need for physiology to change so significantly (at least not immediately).⁵⁰ Ultimately, defenders of the “unique” status of subjects within AGTs provide nothing of substance to defend the claim that subjects within AGTs are metaphysically unique. They provide lists of physiological differences and then plainly assert that these differences have metaphysical import.⁵¹ This makes for little more than an impressive house of cards.

Returning to questions about language, if “fetonate” and “gestateling” are out, that leaves “perinate.” Defenders of “perinate”—van der Hout-van der Jagt et al.—begin with an uncritical acceptance of the birth-by-location and birth-by-physiology distinction (2022, 3). They then regard “perinate as a subcategory of the gestateling,” given that “the infant” within a transfer AGT is a human subject that exists “around” (peri) “birth” (natus) (van der Hout-van der Jagt et al., 2022, 3). By naïvely accepting the claim that birth-by-physiology is metaphysically relevant to birth—while endorsing Romanis’ “gestateling” to boot—“perinate” faces the same problems as “gestateling.” Thus, “perinate” should be dismissed as well.⁵²

Inquiry into the language surrounding AGTs began with a call for value-neutrality. Proposals considered here were not value-neutral. Instead, we found language games. These games involved an invention (largely out of thin air) of four things: (a) a new, sterile vocabulary (with terms like “perinate” and “gestateling”), (b) a third category of human being (neither “fetus” nor “neonate”), (c) one physiologically interesting but metaphysically irrelevant distinction (birth-by-location/birth-by-physiology), and (d) novel definitions of common terms (like “gestation” and “birth”). Manipulating language, in these cases, strikes me as a mere attempt to preserve or expand control over new human life. After all, Romanis and Horn claim that “responsible literature should begin ethical assessments of the future implications of ectogenic technology from a place of affirming contemporary (and future) abortion as essential healthcare” (2020, 185). Readers should not take seriously authors who describe their language (or metaphysics) as “value-neutral” when those same authors require that a pro-abortion (non-neutral) perspective be built into it. As Wozniak and Fernandes observe, rather pointedly, this kind of scholarship on AGTs is “suspect since it begins with a conclusion (a woman’s right to abortion should not be altered) and creates a new category of gestateling in order to validate the conclusion” (2021, 4). Indeed, what the authors considered here reveal is that in many academic discussions of AGTs, the pro-abortion tail wags the metaphysical dog.

VIII. AGTs AND A SYSTEMIC FAILURE OF NEIGHBOR-LOVE

Christians have special reasons to oppose both the language games outlined above and the programs of control from which they flow. As the ITC affirms, human life is a gift of inestimable value, made in the image of God, and is oriented toward eternity with Him (2004, 24). These words likely ring hollow when the Christians who utter them turn around and join programs of control in the name of things like “reproductive autonomy.” One cannot effectively bear witness that God is the one, true ruler over human life while, at the same time, seizing control over—and objectifying—new human life. This seems especially true when one’s pursuit of reproductive autonomy involves the killing of human beings (as typically occurs in cases of IVF). In these cases, to use Bauzon’s phrase, “the desire to procure” a child by medical means is regarded (at least in effect) as more valuable than human life itself (2008, 45–46). By comparison, consider McMahan’s comments concerning abortion opponents’ widespread failure to adopt frozen embryos: “whatever people may profess on their bumper stickers, very few really believe that embryos have the same moral status as older children and adults” (2007, 176). How people act, in other words, may undermine their (perceived) credibility or their commitment to their claims. This is not always fair, of course, but in the present case, Christians who (in effect) regard their own procreative goals as more valuable than human life itself (e.g., when using IVF in a way that involves the destruction of embryos) should not be surprised when their claims about the intrinsic and profound value of human life are not taken seriously.⁵³ Those who believe that all human beings are created in the image of God should strive to act accordingly.

Kierkegaard’s account of “neighbor-love” is especially insightful on these points. For Kierkegaard, neighbor-love is commanded and “demands a strict commitment to equality in which people must recognize their ‘kinship with the entire human race’” (Evans, 2004, 214). Evans explains that this kind of equality means “loving without distinctions” which, in turn, means that “I cannot limit my loving concern to my family, friends, neighbors, or even my fellow citizens” and “I am never allowed to say that what happens to other human beings is of no moral concern to me” (2004, 211–212). Importantly, it is recognition of God’s image in other human beings that grounds neighbor-love. So, failure to love even one human being as one’s neighbor entails failure to love every human being as one’s neighbor. Evans emphasizes this point explicitly:

If I love the one individual rightly as my neighbor, I must love the person by virtue of being a human being God created. If that motive is really operative in me, then I will not refuse love to others who are equally human beings created by God. If I make a distinction by loving the one person and not the other, clearly the ground of the love for the first person is not that characteristic all humans share, the quality that is the ground of neighbor-love. (2004, 199)⁵⁴

Separating human beings (as though some bear God’s image and some do not) is precisely the kind of “discrimination which dehumanizes other people by excluding them from the arena of moral concern” (Evans, 2004, 212).⁵⁵ Neighbor-love requires the opposite. As such, Christians should consider two questions. First, what would neighbor-love toward subjects within AGTs look like? Second, do extremely young human beings really fall within the scope of neighbor-love? That is, why think that human beings bear God’s image from conception onward? I address each question in turn.

Neighbor-Love and Subjects Within AGTs

First, what would neighbor-love look like when directed toward subjects within AGTs? For Kierkegaard, “a crucial test as to whether a person’s love of the neighbor is genuine is how the person treats concrete individuals, particularly those who are not in a position to reciprocate goodness shown to them” (Evans, 2004, 219, emphasis added). Christians’ treatment of human beings within AGTs (or in utero, for that matter) provides an excellent test of their love, since the latter cannot voluntarily reciprocate any “goodness shown to them.” As Anderson (2024) emphasizes, human beings at the earliest stages of life depend for their very lives on the grace and mercies of others. Whether human beings exist in utero or ex utero, if we regard them as “beyond the pale of [our] concern” and so deny their value—the “inner glory” they possess, as bearers of God’s image—then we fail universally with respect to neighbor-love. That is, if Kierkegaard is correct, then we cannot regard subjects within AGTs as “beyond our concern” and then claim to love anyone as God has commanded. Obedience to God’s command requires recognition that all human beings bear God’s image and a commitment to helping them “in concrete and costly ways” (Evans, 2004, 218).⁵⁶ Programs of control—which dehumanize, objectify, and destroy young human beings—could hardly be more opposed to neighbor-love. Hence, given that neighbor-love is commanded, Christians are obligated to oppose such programs.

On Whether Imago Dei Begins at Conception

Next, some Christians may object that neighbor-love extends only to human persons (not human organisms) and that personhood begins after conception.⁵⁷ Does this change Christians’ obligations to subjects within AGTs? Regarding transfer AGTs, no. In the foreseeable future, transfer AGTs are applied only to subjects at (or near) the current viability line (22–24 weeks) (de Bie et al., 2023). If the objector accepts that today’s neonates fall within the scope of neighbor-love (which is relatively uncontroversial), then subjects in transfer AGTs fall within the scope of neighbor-love in the same way.⁵⁸ Non-transfer AGTs are more complicated. To the Catholic faithful, since human beings bear the image of God from conception onward, all subjects within non-transfer AGTs fall within the scope of neighbor-love. Denying these individuals their dignity, right to life, or other basic protections is untenable (Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, 1974). My dispute, then, is with non-Catholic (and non-faithful Catholic) Christians who deny that human subjects bear God’s image from conception onward.

Separating human beings into two classes—image bearers versus non-image bearers (or neighbors versus non-neighbors)—conflicts with the radical inclusion we see emphasized throughout Christ’s ministry. Neighbor-love requires that we see God’s image in others, no matter how lowly or vile they are to us (Luke 6:27–28). As such, even if the view in question—namely, that human beings are only worthy of our moral concern when they function in a certain way or have certain physiological features—is logically consistent with Scripture, this view does not cohere well with Christ’s message of inclusion and concern for “the least of these” (Matthew 25:40–45).⁵⁹ To bolster my case, recall that when Christ commanded His followers to love their neighbors, one lawyer—who wished “to justify himself”—responded, “and who is my neighbor?” (Luke 10:29). This question carries an implicature of exclusion. Loving one’s neighbors is relatively easy if “neighbor” picks out a highly restricted subset of human beings.⁶⁰ As “neighbor” becomes more inclusive, however, obeying Christ’s command becomes more difficult.

Christ responds to the lawyer with the Parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:30–37). This parable rejects any attempt to restrict one’s neighbor to those for whom one already has natural affections or attachments. Human beings do not need to be commanded to love people whom they find lovely. Such affection comes naturally. These natural loves—“romantic love, friendship love, parental love, or patriotic love”—ensure that we promote the good of those we find agreeable (Evans, 2014). Neighbor-love, by comparison, calls us to far more: we must love even those we naturally despise.⁶¹ This includes those who are unwanted or inconvenient.⁶² As Bock remarks, “the lawyer’s question about identifying his neighbor is really an attempt to say there is such a person as a ‘non-neighbor.’ Jesus refuses to turn people into a subspecies or into things that can be ignored” (1996, 139). Attempts to exclude subjects in AGTs from the scope of neighbor-love follow the lawyer’s pattern of thinking (a pattern that Christ Himself rejected). Thus, any attempt to restrict the scope of “neighbor” to just some (not all) human beings should be viewed with great suspicion (if not rejected outright). After all, incorrectly narrowing the scope of neighbor-love is a far greater offense than incorrectly broadening it. The former violates the second greatest commandment, but the latter carries no penalty at all. From a prudential standpoint, therefore, we have another reason to avoid claiming that some human beings fall outside neighbor-love’s scope.

In sum, AGTs provide a new battlefield for those who affirm human rights/equality and those who deny these things. Rodger and Blackshaw (2024) give an overview of that battlefield. Gross (2024) articulates how AGTs might contribute to further dehumanization of children. Anderson (2024) explains how AGTs might damage our theological understanding of God and ourselves. Moreover, I have shown that those who reject human rights (whether explicitly or in effect) have already begun laying groundwork for an expansion of dehumanizing ideologies. This groundwork takes form in language games, which aim to diminish the (apparent) value of neonates within AGTs. I argued that although these language games are politically expedient, they are philosophically hollow. My hope is that Christian thinkers will continue to expose these games for what they are: empty rhetoric that targets the innocent with lethal intent.

IX. BEYOND AGTs: ECTOPIC PREGNANCY IS WIDELY MISUNDERSTOOD

Discussions of emerging reproductive technologies go well beyond AGTs. Debates over treatment of ectopic pregnancies are another point of interest. Post-Dobbs, these debates are especially pressing. Colgrove, for example, argues that following Dobbs, academics must not “purposefully (or carelessly) perpetuate misunderstandings of the law in ways that risk serious harm (or death) to patients who experience ectopic pregnancies” (2023, 201). Cara Buskmiller tackles these misunderstandings, aiming “to settle the issue about whether methotrexate and salpingostomy are acceptable [as treatment for ectopic pregnancy] within a Catholic worldview” (2024, 120). Specifically, Buskmiller (2024) defends three claims: methotrexate use is morally impermissible, salpingostomy (of a certain kind) is the best treatment for ectopic pregnancy, and while salpingectomy is morally permissible, it harms women unnecessarily. If so, then salpingectomy “should not hold the pride of place that it does in Catholic bioethical literature, as the gold standard agreed-upon treatment” (Buskmiller, 2024). Salpingostomy—when performed ethically—deserves that place (Buskmiller, 2024).

Buskmiller’s essay reveals potential common ground between abortion proponents and opponents. Generally, both agree that ectopic pregnancy should be treated, even if that means causing an embryo’s death. Disputes center on which methods of treatment are morally licit. As Buskmiller (2024) observes, not all interventions for ectopic pregnancy require intentional killing (i.e., abortion).⁶³ Hence, understanding available interventions—by clarifying which interventions are abortive and which are not—could promote bipartisan agreement. Both abortion proponents and opponents may hesitate to seek common ground, however. Abortion opponents may fear that doing so will make them appear to be “endorsing abortion” in some cases.⁶⁴ Abortion proponents may prefer to engage in “scaremongering” regarding the consequences of anti-abortion laws (Waters and Buss, 2022). That is, if one aims to preserve a “right” to kill, then it makes sense to claim that restrictions on this “right” will lead to horrifying consequences (like clinicians’ inability to treat ectopic pregnancy). For both parties in this debate, however, by refusing to build on available common ground—where parties agree that some form of treatment for ectopic pregnancy is permissible—they risk prioritizing their political agendas over the health, well-being, and lives of women. Both parties, therefore, have much to gain from Buskmiller’s essay and both should reflect on their own (explicit and implicit) priorities when it comes to public policy and the treatment of ectopic pregnancy.

X. ABORTION PILLS KILL: AN ADJECTIVAL ACCOUNT OF KILLING AND LETTING DIE

Medication abortion (e.g., methotrexate and mifepristone) is the final reproductive technology considered here. Buskmiller (2024) regards methotrexate use as morally impermissible, since it acts by halting “cell reproduction” within the trophoblast (where the trophoblast is a vital embryonic organ). This means that—contra Kaczor (2009)—“methotrexate acts more like . . . physician-assisted suicide” than mere withdrawal of life-sustaining care (Buskmiller, 2024). Hence, using it is not permitted under Catholic doctrine. David Hershenov (2024) continues this discussion by inquiring into the nature of medication abortion more generally. He does this primarily through the lens of the “killing and letting die” distinction.

Hershenov begins by arguing that the killing and letting die distinction is widely misunderstood. Contrary to common views, “letting die and killing are not to be defined or characterized in a way that makes a reference to differences between acts and omissions, moral and immoral motives, intentional or unintentional deaths, and causing or not causing a pathology” (Hershenov, 2024, 135). Rather, Hershenov argues, we should define “killing and letting die in nonmoral terms” and then, qualify “them as permissible, unjust, intentional, foreseeable, and so on” (2024, 135). This is an adjectival approach to killing and letting die, since we first define an event (a killing or a letting die) and then attribute adjectives (moral, immoral, intentional, unintentional, etc.) to that event. Hershenov then argues that abortion pills (including methotrexate and mifepristone) both work by damaging the embryo’s body (and so, both pills kill).⁶⁵ Should one accept Catholic doctrine—which prohibits the killing of innocent human beings⁶⁶—then it is always impermissible to use methotrexate and mifepristone to terminate pregnancy.

Hershenov’s discussion reveals how language surrounding medication abortion is subject to manipulation. Descriptions of certain interventions as “detachment” abortions—as though they merely “let embryos die”—may suggest that these interventions are less wrong than procedures that directly kill.⁶⁷ Hershenov reveals this misperception, showing that—in actuality—medication abortions and other so-called “detachment” abortions kill their victims. Even if there were some intervention that merely “lets embryos die,” Hershenov shows that this fact (by itself) does not say anything about its permissibility or impermissibility. Even if an intervention merely “let embryos die,” therefore, this gives us no real reason to think that the intervention is morally permissible.

Buskmiller and Hershenov each help us to avoid causing unnecessary harm to women and children alike. Failure to understand ectopic pregnancy—and failure to understand which treatments are morally licit—may expose women to unnecessary risk of serious injury or death. Hence, clarity on these issues is critical. Further, when manipulative (or confused) language makes some abortions (e.g., medication abortions) seem relatively benign, this obviously risks serious harm to embryos, not to mention harms associated with failing to inform patients as to the true nature of interventions. If Hershenov is correct, then patients who opt for medication abortion have not been properly informed when they are led to believe that the intervention merely “detaches” the embryo rather than kills him or her. If Hershenov is correct, then medication abortion kills (and so, our language should not obscure this fact). Finally, insofar as neighbor-love means meeting the material needs of every human being (insofar as is possible), Christians should strive to protect the lives of women who experience ectopic pregnancy and the lives of children (whether before or after birth) wherever possible.

XI. CONCLUSION

Discussions of AGTs and other emerging reproductive technologies are saturated with manipulative language games. These games, I have argued, often aim to insulate (or expand) illicit control over new human life (e.g., by dehumanizing young human beings or by making deadly procedures seem benign). If Christians align themselves with the programs of control from which these language games flow, then they risk disobeying the commandment to love one’s neighbor. This is because programs of control often entail systemic failures of neighbor-love (usually toward the most vulnerable human beings among us). If Christians remain silent on these matters, then it will be no surprise when emerging reproductive technologies (like transfer AGTs) are integrated into everyday practices in ways that exacerbate today’s widespread failure of neighbor-love. Faithful Christians, therefore, must speak out against dehumanizing language games and disrupt the foundation for further oppression that many academics have begun to build. Granted, if Christians do this, serious resistance is expected. People in power often respond badly when their control is threatened. Conflict is unavoidable, however, since some social movements endorse an inverted morality. Like Milton’s Satan, some individuals declare (in effect): “Evil, be thou my Good” (2005, 108). When, by these standards, people judge Christianity to be morally objectionable, a Kierkegaardian response is warranted: “it is just as you say, and the amazing thing is that you think that it is an objection” (Kierkegaard, 2013, 52).

REFERENCES

Footnotes