Throughout most of history, having children was not a matter of exerting control, but of accepting uncertainty. Whether and how the act of making love resulted in children was a mystery. In the pages of Scripture, having children — especially when one had been considered barren — was most often seen as a sign of God’s blessing: think of Eve, Sarah, Rachel and Leah, Hannah, Elizabeth …
Somewhere in the modern epoch the mindset changed. Children are still a blessing, but now they are also a liability, and we calculate how many hundreds of thousands of dollars it costs to raise a child. In the modern purview, since childbirth brings liability, it must be brought under control. The most portentous embodiment of this mindset change is the development of contraception. We now speak of “planned” and “unplanned” pregnancies — another way of saying “controlled” vs. “uncontrolled.”
But this is not enough control for moderns, for all contraception, other than abstinence, is imperfect. So when contraception fails, when we lose control, we establish the option of abortion, by which we re-assert control, by which we affirm the supreme modern value of control over life.
But even this degree of control is not enough. Why should we stop at merely preventing children, when we can control their conception? Thus we pursue reproductive technologies, by which the woman barren, like Rachel, or too-old-to-have-children, like Elizabeth, can produce a child. Yet this is still not enough; there is still too great an element of uncertainty, so we assert an ever-greater control over the process of conception by testing these children of reproductive technology before they are born or even en-wombed, in order to control who will live and who will not. Again, the mindset changes: children now are not only a blessing and a liability, but a product, manufactured to certain specifications and precise tolerances.
“Control” is not a bad thing. There are many in this world who would be much better off if they had a greater degree of control over their lives. But since we are a fallen race, the more we seize control of something, the more we ruin it in the process. We see this in our physical environment as we have increasingly asserted control over it; we will see it in our humanity if we continue in the path of controlling ourselves through enhancement and controlling our offspring through genetic manipulation. One of the most vexing questions bioethics must answer is, How much control is right? And when have we gone too far?
Contrast the modern techno-birth with the most important birth in all of history, which was not a matter of control, but of surrender, surrendering control over birth. In the process, the “perfect” contraception — abstinence — fails! Yet from this act of surrendering comes the greatest gift the world has ever received. Is there a lesson here? Does our greatest good always lie not in grasping for greater and greater control, but in knowing when to relinquish control and surrender?