Professional Documents
Culture Documents
27
Judit Sándor
27.1 Introduction
The editor of a groundbreaking book1 that explores the normative challenges posed by the recent
advances of genetic research, Sheila Jasanoff, provides in her introduction a very powerful meta-
phor for describing what has happened in the field of genetics since the completion of the
Human Genome Project. She claims that biological sciences have reached the phase of text-
uality. By this she means that, just like DNA sequences, genetic test results can also be written,
recorded, stored, read and matched with other textual and non-textual information. She argues
that this post-genomic period provides a transformative change in both law and the life sciences
that should be considered ‘bioconstitutional’. Since the completion of the Human Genome
Project in 2003, new legal challenges have emerged and law and ethics have provided two
different kinds of responses to the legal challenges that have been accelerated following the
completion of the Human Genome Project. One applied a ‘rhetoric of scepticism’ and vehe-
mently argued that ‘there is nothing new, nothing special’ about genetic research and genetic
data, while the other position emphasised novelty and the peculiarity of genetic data. From
these two radically different approaches, two substantially different legal conceptualisations
follow. The first does not see any necessity to adopt new legal norms or formulations of new
human rights in the field of genetics. The other approach argues that new legal norms need to
be articulated, including new human rights.
Generally speaking, legal responses to this issue have tended to follow the former position and
to be sceptical of new rights. Roberto Andorno seems to fall in line with this position to a certain
extent: he does acknowledge ‘extensions of traditional human rights into the specific field of
genetics’ throughout, but it is only the ‘right not to know’ that he classifies as ‘entirely new’.2 This
is hardly surprising: an important element of legal thinking is that, in the face of new challenges,
the law should not set up new legal institutions automatically, but rather endeavour to embed
the new knowledge among existing legal principles with a view to maintaining proper consist-
ency. If the legal system were turned upside down for every technical novelty or innovation, the
basic construction of the rule of law would collapse due to the loss of predictability. This is why
there is always a lesser drive for innovation in law than in the natural sciences. If a technical
or scientific novelty emerges, legal thinking will often turn to incorporation and interpretation
1
S. Jasanoff (ed.), Reframing Rights: Bioconstitutionalism in the Genetic Age (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2011).
2
R. Andorno, in this volume, p. 345.
350
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351
(Andorno’s ‘extensions’3), rather than to the establishment of a new legal right. One purpose of
this comment will be to show that this may not always be the best course of action.
The underlying reason for this is the prevalence of many difference perspectives on the issues
raised by genes and genomes. At the most basic level, there is disagreement even over the pre-
liminary question whether we are facing a human rights problem in the field of genetics, or
whether it constitutes a field which simply requires a more technical form of regulation on
safety and logistics of research.4 Even if the perspective of human rights is accepted in principle,
many dilemmas remain, for different conceptualisations remain possible in the course of legal
argument. Whether as ‘promise’ or ‘fetish’,5 genes have been labelled passionately by academics
and scientists across disciplines. Some see genes as vague but valuable entities and as such raise
the issues of ownership and property. Some interpret genes as a form of personal data, capable
of revealing significant information about the individual. Finally, genes can be seen as tools for
diagnosis and therapy.
The following sections will elaborate on these issues. I will begin by briefly considering both
the merits and the limits of an approach based on human rights, such as the account given by
Andorno. I share his sympathy for framing issues relating to genetics as human rights. However,
as the examples given above indicate, I am less convinced that the reference to an indeterminate
and contested framework of pre-existing rights is sufficient to allow for much guidance in prac-
tice. To demonstrate this, I will showcase various problems associated with genetic knowledge,
broadly conceived, and the disagreement that comes with them. My conclusion will be that the
deliberate codification of new rights is necessary to enshrine the results of public debate, thus
acknowledging novelty in a stronger form than Andorno does.
See Directive 2004/23/EC of the European Parliament and of the Council of 31 March 2004 on setting standards of
4
quality and safety for the donation, procurement, testing, processing, preservation, storage and distribution of human
tissues and cells; Commission Directive 2006/17/EC of 8 February 2006 implementing Directive 2004/23/EC of
the European Parliament and of the Council as regards certain technical requirements for the donation, procure-
ment and testing of human tissues and cells; Commission Directive 2006/86/EC of 26 October 2006 implementing
Directive 2004/23/EC of the European Parliament and of the Council as regards traceability requirements, notifica-
tion of serious adverse reactions and events and certain technical requirements for the coding, processing, preserva-
tion, storage and distribution of human tissues and cells.
K. Sunder Rajan, Biocapital: The Constitution of Postgenomic Life (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2006),
5
p. 138.
Andorno, in this volume, p. 335.
6
James Nickel, Making Sense of Human Rights: Philosophical Reflections on the Universal Declaration of Human
7
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352 Judit Sándor
A large number of established rights or concepts related to rights may be connected to the field
of genetics in various ways: genetic research, testing, modification or genome editing influence
our notion and expectations of privacy, access to personal information, access to new therapy or
even to enhancement. Genetic rights may have both an individual and a collective dimension,
and may resonate with social welfare. For instance, the right to decide on genetic testing is an
individual decision, while access to health care based on genetic information also contains a
collective dimension in that it becomes relevant for the general provision of health care services.
Finally, there is the question of the duty-bearer. In general, it is states, not private persons, who
have a duty to respect human rights. In the case of genetic rights, the state may provide a regu-
latory infrastructure, but in many cases companies and private health care providers are more
directly connected to the situation in which genetic rights should be guaranteed.
Within this complex web of rights claims, several concepts stand out as being of particular
relevance for identifying genetic rights and thus demarcating ethical boundaries. Most import-
antly, according to Brownsword and Goodwin,8 human dignity is the key boundary-marking
concept: ‘reference to human dignity is ubiquitous in debates about technological regulation,
particularly where application of scientific knowledge touches upon the foundations of life,
and, in particular, human life.’ Human dignity thus plays a key role in formulating the direction
of new rights in the field of genetics. A further recurring element is nature, which is also used
as a moral boundary marker against technological development. Furthermore, discussions on
property are also relevant with regard to genetics. Property, including intellectual property, is
presented as a boundary marker to determine what should be done with our genes.
Framing dilemmas within the field of genetics as issues of human rights and connecting
them to established human rights principles may thus carry significant advantages. However,
the rights framework also has its limits. One of these is recognised by Andorno: the relevance
of genetic dilemmas for future generations.9 Since political cycles tend to be short (typically
around four to five years between parliamentary elections), it is very difficult to force successive
governments to fulfil obligations to future generations. Furthermore, in many societies where a
conservative view prevails on the right to life, these rights are used to reopen rather than to settle
the debates on abortion, on research on human embryos, etc. This is why I agree with Andorno
that it would be premature, at this point in time, to speak of transgenerational genetic ‘rights’ of
future generations.
However, the point about rights sparking debate rather than settling it indicates a more gen-
eral limit of the human rights framework. Against the backdrop of differing conceptualisations as
discussed above, genetic rights in human rights conventions and declarations may be interpreted
very differently, or may be considered to have different implications depending on the political
context. Wiktor Osiatnyński, a Polish human rights scholar, correctly pointed out that ‘[d]espite
the proliferation of declarations, covenants, and other international agreements in the majority
of countries in today’s world, human rights still are an ideal rather than the norm. Likewise, the
presence of human rights in constitutions does not translate into actual respect for all human
rights’.10 Actual respect requires consensus on the concrete interpretation of human rights –yet
even the brief survey of human rights principles relevant to genetic issues conducted above
serves to illustrate that a variety of perspectives or points of emphasis remain possible. Rights
8 R. Brownsword and M. Goodwin, Law and Technologies of the Twenty- First Century: Text and Materials
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012), p. 191.
9 Andorno, in this volume, pp. 347f.
W. Osiatyński, Human Rights and Their Limits (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009), p. 70.
10
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353
may therefore provide less guidance than it at first seemed, and their use as a ‘lingua franca’ is
limited accordingly.
11 W. F. Mulholland and A. S. Jaeger, ‘Genetic Privacy and Discrimination: A Survey of State Legislation’ (1999) 39(3)
Jurimetrics 317.
12 See ECtHR, S. and Marper v. the United Kingdom (Appl. nos. 30562/04 and 30566/04), judgment, 4 December 2008,
para. 72.
13 S. Holm, for example, had already challenged this approach to genetic exceptionalism in his book chapter published
in 1997: S. Holm, ‘There Is Nothing Special about Genetic Information’, in A. K. Thomson and R. Chadwick (eds.),
Genetic Information: Acquisition, Access and Control (New York: Kluwer Academic, Plenum Publishers, 1999).
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354 Judit Sándor
view, there would be less reason for specific regulation, much less specific human rights. Even
at the most foundational level, then, there is disagreement.
Human Genetics 476.
17 J. Beckwith and J. S. Alper, ‘Reconsidering Genetic Discrimination Legislation’ (1998) 26 Journal of Law, Medicine
and Ethics 205.
18 K. Wailoo and S. Pemberton, The Troubled Dream of Genetic Medicine: Ethnicity and Innovation in Tay-Sachs, Cystic
Fibrosis, and Sickle Cell Disease (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 2006).
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355
acting), while family members may be informed only if the patient expressly consents to this. It
seems, however, that genetic information will potentially re-establish the provision of informa-
tion not just to an individual, but also to their family. In the case of certain diseases, there are few
people who undergo routine medical screening. Yet, when such a disease appears in a family, it
is regarded as a reason for family members to take screening examinations and prevention more
seriously, especially when the disease is known to be hereditary.19 With the enlarging scope of
genetic knowledge, more and more diseases are likely to involve the obligation of physicians to
warn family members of the patient.20
This issue clearly illustrates why some commentators argue in favour of rights that are spe-
cifically tailored to the field of genetics. However, it also makes clear that there are difficult
value choices to make in each individual situation. The deviation from the classic model of
individualised consent is controversial. It contrasts, for example, with the ‘right not to know’
which Andorno treats at length.21 He acknowledges that this right is not absolute, but must be
overridden when the health of blood relatives is at stake. This raises the more general issue of
conflicts between rights.
C. Lerman et al., ‘Family Disclosure in Genetic Testing for Cancer Susceptibility: Determinants and Consequences’
19
Consent Forms for BRCA1 and BRCA2 Mutation Testing’ (1998) 75(1) American Journal of Medical Genetics 82.
21 Andorno, in this volume, pp. 345f.
22 Universal Declaration on the Human Genome and Human Rights, 1997. The Declaration was adopted unanimously
and by acclamation at UNESCO's 29th General Conference on 11 November 1997. Official text available at https://
unesdoc.unesco.org/ark:/48223/pf0000122990.
Supreme Court of the United States, Association for Molecular Pathology v. Myriad Genetics, Inc., 569 U.S. 576
23
702F. Supp. 2d 181, 192–211, 2010 U.S. Dist. Lexis 3518 (emphasis added).
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conflict, the possibility of differing responses depending on one’s perspective becomes particu-
larly clear: even if a right is accepted in principle, its ambit may still be severely curtailed by
setting up a counter-right.25
Another new field of genetics which will soon require the development of legal norms is the
increasing spread of genome editing techniques that may soon reach the human application.
Recently the Nuffield Council published a report26 on genome editing and human reproduc-
tion. If this technology turns out to be safe and applicable in the field of human reproduction,
it may fundamentally change the notion and scope of the right to life, reproductive rights, par-
ental rights, the principle of non-discrimination and the right to privacy.
See generally e.g. Martti Koskenniemi, The Politics of International Law (Oxford: Hart, 2011), pp. 133–152.
25
Nuffield Council on Bioethics, Genome Editing and Human Reproduction: Social and Ethical Issues, July 2018,
26
available at http://nuffieldbioethics.org/project/genome-editing-human-reproduction.
See for example ECtHR, Parrillo v. Italy (Appl. no. 46470/11), judgment, 27 August 2015, para. 182.
27
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In my view, advocating for new human rights in the field of genetics is based on two major
arguments. One is that –as mentioned above –we simply cannot ignore the tremendous change
that has occurred in the life sciences since the Human Genome Project. As the DNA of more
and more patients are studied and used for research purposes, it becomes necessary to develop
new ways of protecting the rights of human beings: hence new human rights. The second argu-
ment is the transnational nature of genetics. Legislation at the national level simply cannot
respond to the complex data collection mechanisms of biobanks that use, for example, genetic
sources from indigenous populations, and intend to patent genetic tests that are based on their
genetic samples. A transnational response in the form of what Andorno calls a global ‘lingua
franca’28 is therefore necessary: hence new human rights.
I share the worries expressed by Andorno about the inflation of human rights.29 But I would
conclude that reopening, to a certain extent, the catalogue of human rights that have developed
after the Second World War would actually reinvigorate the interest in human rights. An entirely
new generation of people has been born since the post-war human rights norms were formulated
with the intention of protecting the human subject in biomedical research. The interpretation
of these norms in genetic contexts may result in misunderstanding due to the lack of concrete
guidance. The lack of interest in, and scepticism towards, human rights might be the result of a
disconnect between the abstract formulation of human rights and the concreteness of everyday
experience, with its various concerns, doubts and fears. We are witnessing incremental progress
in the field of genetics and it seems that some ethical norms should be ‘upgraded’ to the level
of human rights. The human rights approach may help to avoid discriminatory use of genetic
data in genetic and ethnic profiling, testing and screening. If we accept the challenge of refor-
mulating the catalogue of human rights for the twenty-first century, then we should take into
account scientific advances and the related ethical, social and cultural concerns. At the same
time, however, research methods applied by the life sciences should always be subject to critical
assessment by society at large, and law is the main instrument for ensuring that such criticism
gains social force. The extension of human rights on a cellular level should therefore likewise
proceed carefully and critically.
Ibid., p. 336.
29
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