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Reclaiming Space: Progressive and Multicultural Visions of Space Exploration James S.J. Schwartz
Human Enhancement and Gene Editing in Future Space Missions
Konrad Szocik
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Szocik, Konrad, author.
Title: The bioethics of space exploration : human enhancement and gene editing in future space missions / Konrad Szocik.
Description: New York, NY, United States of America : Oxford University Press, 2023. | Includes bibliographical references and index. Identifiers: LCCN 2022030352 (print) |
LCCN 2022030353 (ebook) | ISBN 9780197628478 (hardback) | ISBN 9780197628492 (epub)
Subjects: LCSH: Astronauts—Physiology. | Manned space flight—Moral and ethical aspects. | Manned space flight—Health aspects. | Gene editing—Moral and ethical aspects. | Performance technology—Moral and ethical aspects. | Human body and technology—Moral and ethical aspects. Classification: LCC TL856 .S96 2022 (print) | LCC TL856 (ebook) | DDC 629.4—dc23/eng/20220822
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2022030352
LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2022030353
DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780197628478.001.0001
Printed by Sheridan Books, Inc., United States of America
For my wife, Rakhat Abylkasymova, my greatest love
Acknowledgments
I carried out the work on this book during my fellowship at the Interdisciplinary Center for Bioethics at Yale University during the 2021/2022 academic year. My gratitude goes to Stephen Latham, director of the Center, for the invitation and opportunity to conduct the work on the book, as well as to Lori Bruce.
I thank all those who shared their comments and feedback on my book: Rakhat Abylkasymova, Mark Shelhamer, Jacob Haqq-Misra, Ted Peters, Francis Cucinotta, Stephen Latham, Jonathan Anomaly, Koji Tachibana, Scott Solomon, Chris Impey, Henry Hertzfeld, Michael J. Reiss, Erik Persson, Tony Milligan, Martin Braddock, and Gonzalo Munévar. I should emphasize that not every person mentioned shared my views on the bioethical issues discussed or my vision of a future human presence in space. These are by nature often controversial and debatable issues. I thank the Yale University Library for guaranteeing prompt and always reliable access to all sources. Many thanks to Jeremy Lewis, Zoe Barham, and the entire Oxford University Press team involved in the preparation of the book. Finally, I am very grateful to the three anonymous reviewers for their very valuable comments. I also thank the Polish National Agency for Academic Exchange, which provided financial support for my one-year research stay at Yale University under the Bekker Fellowship (3rd edition) (Decision No. PPN/BEK/2020/1/00012/DEC/1).
Finally, I thank my wife, Rakhat Abylkasymova, for her patience and support as well as her very valuable guidance and advice. Without her, this book would probably never have been written.
The Place of Space Bioethics in the Philosophy and Ethics of Space Missions
Introduction
This is a book about the future of humanity in space, both the near future (missions to Mars and space mining) and the farther future that may never come (space colonization and space refuge), and how we should morally evaluate the possibilities, plans, scenarios, but also the consequences of various scenarios we pursue in the future with respect to space exploration.1 Central to my thinking about the future of humans in space is the concept of human enhancement, which should be seen as an integral part of the larger whole of caring for our good future (Peters 2019a).
Thinking about the future in moral terms is particularly challenging for at least three reasons. First, we must anticipate all scenarios that might occur, even those that are extremely unrealistic. Second, even if we can predict all scenarios, we must have some way to determine which of these scenarios is most likely to occur, and at least under what conditions. Third, and finally, even if we somehow gain certainty about which scenario will come to pass, and it is, in our view, the worst-case scenario, or at least not the best-case scenario, we must prove why we think it is morally wrong. If we prove it, do we necessarily face the necessity of preventing this scenario? The answer is not that simple at all. Moral calculus changes over time and can be situational. In the context of future space missions, we can apply different moral categories to professional astronauts and others to commercial astronauts. Perhaps the risk of imminent planetary extinction will force us to flee Earth at all costs. Finally, advances in technology may open up entirely new possibilities. All of these can change the cost/ benefit, which, in turn, can influence preferred moral principles.
How difficult, if at all possible, this is may be demonstrated by the following thought experiment. We agree that slavery is morally wrong. We also agree that genocide and depriving indigenous people of their land and freedom is morally wrong. We also agree that war is morally wrong. These are the things we want to avoid. Christopher Columbus probably did not think that the discovery of America would lead to these phenomena in the lands he discovered. At what point in our time machine should we stop and prevent the beginning of the sequence of events that led to slavery, the murder and deprivation of indigenous people of their land in the Americas, and finally the use of the atomic bomb against civilians for the only time in history? Is it enough to go back to the time just before Columbus was born, or perhaps to the time
before ships were invented? But maybe we should go back to the source, that is, science, and prevent the development of mathematics and physics in ancient Greece and even earlier.
Someone might say that such thinking leads to paradoxes, but this is only an appearance. Let us rephrase our thought experiment and ask as follows: if you knew that achieving America’s present status as a world power required the aforementioned phenomena as necessary conditions, would you, having a time machine at your disposal, have stopped this sequence of events? Or would you recognize that slavery and wars were the so-called spirit of the times, that, although morally wrong in themselves, they were accepted at a certain stage of human development, that, in other words, people once did not know that things could be different, did not quite know what they were allowed and what they were not? Perhaps, in a sense, this was the case if we look at the excellent distinctions made by Allen Buchanan and Rachel Powell in their book The Evolution of Moral Progress, where the authors point out that in the history of morality and culture, we have had periods of proper moralization (when we used to consider morally good and acceptable those acts that we today reject) and proper demoralization (behaviors in the past that were rejected, today morally acceptable and even desirable) (Buchanan and Powell 2018). Is slavery the “only” proper moralization that we have made in recent decades, correcting the mistakes of our ancestors? We can do similar thought experiments on all phenomena of the modern world that have negative consequences, like the Internet, climate change, computers. There are many negative social and criminal consequences associated with Internet and computer use, but being able to foresee them decades ago, should we conclude that humanity should not embark on a path of development leading to their invention and popularization?
This question need not sound at all as altruistic as it may seem, and it need not imply our concern for all the humanity that has come into existence and that has suffered in the centuries that have followed. This question, posed by each of us today, is very selfish in its nature. In its egoistic variant, it is as follows: Can I sacrifice myself, my coming into existence in the twentieth or twenty-first century, just to prevent the sequence of events of the past which led not only to wars and genocides but also made possible my coming into the world as this person with this and not that identity? This question implies many of the problems discussed by philosophers, such as the nonidentity problem and the idea of antinatalists that it is better for us never to have been born because, after all, since we never existed, we cannot know what we are missing by never coming into the world.
The search for the consequences of our actions and decisions that we make now is what I want to turn my attention to in relation to our future in space. I want to determine both what the possible scenarios for our future presence in space are, whether they are worth pursuing, and if so, how we should morally evaluate each of these options. I want to answer the question of whether every vision of humanity’s future in space can be accepted, and whether there are scenarios that we should strongly reject on moral grounds. If there are such, then maybe we should stop the sequence of
events right now that might lead to their realization. Should we pursue a space program that requires the application of radical forms of human enhancement, and is space exploration worth such severe modifications to human biology (Abylkasymova 2021)? Even given the moral uncertainty of the use of the atomic bomb, knowing how it led to a nuclear arms race, would it have been better to not use it at all, and to allow the continuation of a world war?
Even today, we do not know for sure whether these phenomena that are already happening (and that have set in motion a sequence of events leading, for example, to the establishment of a space colony at some point in the future) will definitely lead to the establishment of a space colony, and if so, whether the morally unacceptable option that we would like to avoid must unavoidably be realized in that colony when we think about Columbus’s voyage to America and what happened to both the indigenous people and the future slaves. But the same may be true if we never leave Earth and, by forgoing space exploration, lead to an undesirable scenario on Earth in the future.
The axis for my consideration of what might happen in the future and what we should pursue or avoid contains two elements. The first is the aforementioned context of space missions. However, my considerations are perhaps even more about the Earth, how we think, how we make decisions, what our intuitions and moral rationales are, whether we are consistent in our thinking and moral judgment. The latter is a great challenge for us, because we often critically appraise one element, not noticing a given characteristic judged negatively in other phenomena that we accept. It is, after all, on Earth that a sequence of events is underway that will lead us to some scenarios in the future, including in space. What we are already doing on Earth today, and what decisions we will soon make about accepting what technologies and for what needs, will modify the sequence of events in morally acceptable, controversial, or unacceptable directions.
The second element central to my book is the concept of human enhancement through biomedicine, particularly gene editing. This narrows my discussion to the bioethical problem of moral acceptance of human enhancement for space missions. In this way I avoid considering other very important aspects of space mission ethics and philosophy that are currently being discussed by space philosophers and space ethicists (Green 2021).
Suffice it to say that we could bring about another total destruction of every newly exploited object in space, so it is not clear whether we have the right to think about space exploitation at all. Moreover, perhaps focusing our efforts on space exploration will reflect negatively on our concern for the Earth. Finally, a serious issue is that of debris in space, which at some point may be so abundant as to make it physically impossible to carry out any space operations (Kessler and Cour-Palais 1978), (Krag 2021).
Perhaps the colonization of space will involve scenarios that we morally disapprove of, but that will emerge with irresistible force. Perhaps we should avoid them by modifying the sequence of events today. Or maybe they just do not hide anything terrible
in them. These are the guiding questions and the guiding objectives of this book. What may pose challenges and cause problems is neither gene editing nor space exploration itself, but a combination of the two, a constellation of events in which at some point they will have to occur together and lead to morally undesirable consequences. I am not saying that this must happen, however I am considering possible future scenarios in space in which this will be possible. I also point out that the same human enhancement that can be the source of moral problems can also be a tool for solving and preventing them.
These considerations are important for the Earth in the sense that if we recognize that certain biomedical procedures are controversial and we want to avoid them, and on the other hand we strive for space exploration, which may lead us to the colonization of space, then we may get new motivation to work on this “controversial” biotechnology because of the expected benefits. However, this does not change the fact that then the same technology can sometimes be used for the wrong purposes. Perhaps space missions will be the area where today’s controversial human modification procedures will be widely applied. This is what I assume when discussing germline gene editing (GGE) for space missions.
In a sense, this is a book about humanity’s future in the context of how its plans and ambitions are intertwined with the development of technologies it is entitled to, and which it is entitled to use for its own use and to improve its well-being, moral intuitions, and the long-term consequences of its choices. Perhaps that last element is the most important one—paying attention to the long-term consequences of our decisions and actions that we make today, which may direct the sequence of events toward something we would not want. Our presence in the cosmos can thus be seen as part of this larger whole, as a kind of case study.
It is at the same time a book about whether we should accept the unfettered development of science and technology, which, after all, is always dictated by the good and the well-being of humanity. It is a book about whether the end justifies the means, even if that end is the survival of our species.
Inevitably, I discuss the various moral dilemmas that arise today, and of which there will be even more as our capabilities for both space exploration and gene editing become more real and effective. In several of my articles (one with space philosopher Koji Tachibana) I posed the following dilemma, which I believe is inevitable. If we just accept that our future is in space and that we want to be present in space in a significant and meaningful way, we must choose one of two options: Either we accept gene editing on a fairly large scale for our adaptation to space conditions, or we give up our presence in favor of pursuing automated missions that require the development of highly advanced artificial intelligence, with its good and negative consequences for humans (Szocik 2020d), (Szocik and Tachibana 2019) (Szocik and Abylkasymova 2022b).
It is in this sense that I believe our choices today of one path or another lead to farreaching consequences that are not always recognized. This may be especially true for missions much more ambitious than those being considered today—planets outside
the solar system, for example. With respect to such a distant future, we can say that not without responsibility will be those who block the implementation of scenarios requiring the application of gene editing and thereby prevent us from maintaining a life worth living, or bring us to a state where our lives are worse than they would have been were it not for their blocking actions.
In the book I make many assumptions. I assume that humanity will intensify its activities in a sequence of events leading to the exploitation and exploration of space. I thus assume that space will be an essential part of human life and activity in the future, perhaps even something routine. I assume that there will be strong rationales in favor of human long-term deep-space missions even if, in light of today’s assumptions, our knowledge of space, and the countermeasures we possess, we may not really see a strong rationale in favor of human space exploration, and lean toward robotic expeditions in light of the risks (Abney 2017, 355–356). I also assume that biomedical enhancement will be necessary, or at least recommended, for long-term space missions, which will be due to either the lack or ineffectiveness of conventional countermeasures. I also assume that biomedical technologies for modifying humans, and gene editing in particular, will be developed with increasing intensity, will be applied, and will be, at least in theory, ready for application.
These assumptions about our future in space and the development of human enhancement technology are key here, because they require recognition that long-term and deep-space travels will be attractive to humans2 (for scientific reasons, financial reasons, or even as a refuge from disaster on Earth) and that advances in medicine and biotechnology will be so great as to make possible many effects that today are only in the testing, conceptual stage, or simply impossible.
This is a book about the future, space, and bioethics. I understand bioethics as ethical considerations of biomedical procedures (DeGrazia and Millum 2021, 1). In the book I narrow it down to human enhancement, mainly gene editing, applied to space missions. But there is no doubt that these considerations are as useful as possible for a terrestrial context, they can show some unseen effects of various applications, or show that some boundaries are difficult to define between the necessary and the optional, the useful and the seemingly extravagant.
In summary, consideration of bioethical challenges during future long-term space missions is embedded in futures studies. Exploration and perhaps even settlement in space are an integral part of humanity’s future.
Overview of Issues Discussed in Space Philosophy and Space Ethics
A need for space bioethics is seen the best when we take a look at the current state of art in space philosophy and space ethics.3 We can find that bioethical issues are still not considered, or are only minimally considered in space ethics. The current space ethics is dominated by environmental ethics. Space philosophy is, in practice,
the same as space ethics (Green 2020). And space ethics is, in large part, the same as environmental ethics. Consequently, when someone is talking about space philosophy, she is, in fact, talking about space ethics, and she has very big chances that she is talking particularly about some issues in environmental ethics related to the context of space missions, human or uncrewed.
The issues most widely discussed in space philosophy and space ethics are those of environmental ethics and extraterrestrial intelligence (ETI) encounter scenarios. Environmental ethics discusses issues such as, but not limited to astrobiology4 and extraterrestrial life (ETL), microbial life in space (Chon-Torres 2020), and the distinction between intrinsic value and instrumental value (Peters 2019b). Environmental space ethics also discusses issues such as the need for environmental assessment (Kramer 2020), the value of astronomical objects regardless of possible existence of extraterrestrial life, geoethics, and the concept of integrity (Milligan 2015a), planetary protection (forward contamination and backward contamination), and the problem of space debris and lunar environmental ethics (Norman and Reiss 2021). Christopher McKay defends the intrinsic value of extraterrestrial life (McKay 1990). Charles S. Cockell (2016b) defends the intrinsic value of space microbes on the base of their interest. Kelly Smith (2016) rejects the concept of intrinsic value of extraterrestrial microbial life.
Another large group of issues widely discussed in space philosophy and space ethics, namely ETI encounter scenarios, covers issues such as Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence (SETI), Messaging Extraterrestrial Intelligence (METI), “should we message ETI?,” and considering scenarios and protocols in the event that ETI turns out to be peaceful or hostile to us (Rappaport et al. 2021), (Szocik 2022). Smith and John W. Traphagan propose the concept of passive protocols and inaction (Smith and Traphagan 2020).
One important issue is the rationale for space missions.). Since there are many issues being discussed here, it is best to divide this topic into short-term and longterm perspective issues. Under the former, topics such as the following are discussed, among others: resource utilization and space mining,5 sustainability and resource depletion on Earth, the issue of spin-offs, and the value of scientific space exploration (Schwartz 2020), (Munévar 2022).
The long-term perspective addresses such issues as, among others, whether we should colonize Mars (Zubrin 1996), (Abney and Lin 2015), (Milligan 2011) and why we should not colonize Mars (Billings 2017, 2019), (Futures 2019), the concept of space refuge, our innate sense and urge to explore space (Zubrin 1996), or some alternative approaches to space colonization. The latter include the negative impact of Abrahamic religions’ and Western worldview that consumption is good and unavoidable (Traphagan 2016), (Schwartz et al. 2021); the view of other religious traditions on the issue of expansion in space, such as Buddhism, among others (Impey 2021); and the view of a planet as disposable.
In addition to outlining these three major topic areas, it is worth mentioning that there are some issues among them that have lost their former momentum, such as the
question of terraforming Mars (Beech et al. 2021), (Szocik 2021c) or the debate over whether life is better than no life in space, and whether we should therefore seed life on Mars (McKay 1990), (Milligan 2016).
Finally, there are issues in space philosophy that are discussed by individual authors. These issues include the question of astronaut enhancement (Abney and Lin 2015), the issue of genetic liberty and deontogenic ethics in a 500-year space colonization program using genome editing (Mason 2021), the value of scientific exploration of space (Schwartz 2020), (Munévar 2023), and finally the issue of human enhancement for future space missions.6
In recent years, several books have been published, both single-authored monographs and anthologies of texts treating space philosophy and space ethics in general, and analyzing in a multifaceted way some selected aspect of space ethics: (Arnould 2011), (Cockell 2015a, 2015b, 2016a), (Milligan 2015b), (Schwartz and Milligan 2016), (Szocik 2019, 2020b), (Rappaport and Szocik 2021), (Green 2021).
In sum, space bioethics, particularly as understood in the manner presented in this book, is absent from the current philosophy and ethics of space exploration.
What Is Bioethics, and What Is Space Bioethics?
It is worth clarifying some terminological issues even if they seem fairly obvious. I was somewhat surprised to find that both in some reviews of my work and in some papers, the term “space bioethics” is used to describe issues discussed within environmental space ethics. This is an example of misuse of terms, in fact a serious confusion of terms.
First, bioethics is not the same as ethics. For some, bioethics may be regarded as an ethical discipline, as an example of applied ethics. Nevertheless, bioethics as such is a separate discipline, moreover, it is not an ethical or, more broadly, a philosophical discipline, however, it may be associated in public space with philosophy and ethics sooner than, for example, with law or medicine, especially when bioethics is dealt with by philosophers who apply moral theories to it. Nevertheless, bioethics is an autonomous science of interdisciplinary character, and philosophy and ethics are, but not necessarily, two of the disciplines included in bioethics. Bioethics understood in this way is not present in the hitherto widely understood philosophy and ethics of space missions. Space philosophy and space ethics cover a number of issues, but other than bioethics, there is no mention of ethical issues related to human biology, which is what bioethics deals with.7
Second, space bioethics has nothing to do with astrobiology, although one may encounter misuses of the term bioethics in the context of space missions. Astrobiology is the science of life in space for all possible beings beyond human life and other terrestrial organisms. The scope of interest of astrobiology generally does not include humans as a direct object of astrobiological study. But astrobiology is not an ethical or philosophical discipline. Thus, equating space bioethics with astrobiology contains a
double error. Space bioethics covers ethical issues related to human biology in space, whereas astrobiology deals with the origin, origins, development, and altogether the possible existence of life in space. But this life in space that interests astrobiology does not concern terrestrial life as the main and direct object of research. That is what biology deals with.
Another example of the use of terms that can be misleading is the term “astrobioethics.” This term is used, among others, in publications by Octavio A. Chon-Torres (2018, 2021b, 2021c). It should be emphasized that there is nothing inappropriate about the use of this term as long as everyone is aware of the meaning of both the term astrobioethics and the term space bioethics. Chon-Torres is well aware of the meaning of the term “astrobioethics,” defining it as follows:
Astrobioethics is the ethical branch that is in charge of studying and analysing the moral implications of astrobiology, such as the evaluation of what to do in the face of a possible contamination that puts at risk any possible form of Martian life. For this reason, we understand as “astrobiological interest” any aspect that involves interacting with any potential life form or conditions that allow us to understand the origin of life in the universe. (Chon-Torres 2021c)
Thus, astrobioethics for Chon-Torres is essentially the same as environmental space ethics, concerned with the status of extraterrestrial life, the ethical challenges that may arise when humans encounter/interact with extraterrestrial life, especially when threatened by humans. These issues are certainly not among those traditionally understood under the name of bioethics, nor are they among the issues I discuss in this book as space bioethics.
To defend Chon-Torres’s use of the term, one might add that the prefix “astro” gives the term “bioethics” a new meaning. In an etymological sense, this might be justified by reference to “bio” and “ethics” treated separately. Nevertheless, the term “astroethics” seems to be a more appropriate term here, free from misunderstandings about the application of astrobioethics.8 Moreover, even if we agree that etymologically “astrobioethics” does indeed mean ethics concerning life in the cosmos—after all, the word says nothing about the fact that “bio” must apply only to humans—the term conflicts with the well-established use of the term “bioethics” applied to humans since the 1960s.
Bioethics grew out of the development of medical procedures in the 1960s that made it possible to prolong the lives of previously lifeless patients, as well as reproductive technologies that went beyond traditional sexual reproduction between a man and a woman (Kuhse and Singer 2009, 3). This has given rise to many ethical issues—specifically bioethics, physician and patient rights, autonomy, accountability, informed consent, and many others. This is what bioethics deals with, and space bioethics is a specific extension and adaptation for the space mission context.
Admittedly, we do not know whether some life form somewhere in space beyond Earth is not facing the same problems and making analogous bioethical
considerations. But as long as we do not know for sure, let us agree that we use the term “space bioethics” only to describe ethical issues concerning human biology in space, and save “astrobiology,” “astrobiology ethics,” and finally “astrobiology bioethics,” for describing bioethical considerations undertaken by extraterrestrial intelligence (EI), but only (1) if such an intelligence exists anywhere, (2) if we ever learn about it (after the fulfillment of the first condition), and finally (3) if this EI will carry out such bioethical considerations (after the fulfillment of conditions 1 and 2).
In summary, bioethics addresses the ethical challenges generated by biomedical technologies, while space bioethics brings these considerations to the environment of space mission.
Overview of Chapter Topics
In chapter 2, I briefly outline the specifics of the space environment and the health risks to astronauts. This overview provides justification for my main premise—the hypothetical necessity of human enhancement for future long-term deep-space missions. The chapter also outlines the general methodological framework of space bioethics, indicating that it should use mixed methods and approaches, and be issuedriven rather than theory-driven.
In chapter 3, I discuss the issue of human enhancement. Human enhancement is presented as a rational and pragmatic option that should be seriously considered for future space missions. Perhaps the application of radical human enhancement will be inevitable for an effective human presence in space.
Chapter 4 is devoted to a specific form of human enhancement, namely, embryo selection and GGE. Here I discuss the arguments for and against, although the vast bulk of them pertain to human enhancement per se and are discussed in chapter 3. I also point to perhaps unique applications of these so-called positive selection methods for future space missions.
In chapter 5, I discuss the relationship between the importance of the degree of justification for space missions carried out for scientific, commercial, and to save humanity and the justification for applying human enhancement. I show that such a relationship exists. Thus I emphasize the specificity of space bioethics, in which the context and justification of the application of a biomedical procedure plays a central role.
Chapter 6 deals with the differences between space bioethics and bioethics concerning earthly problems. I point out that there are legitimate similarities between space mission bioethics and bioethics of extreme environments on Earth, such as Arctic expeditions and military ethics. However, I suggest that there are some differences, and I am inclined to conclude that these are differences of degree rather than ontological differences.
In chapter 7, I depart somewhat from the focus promised in the introduction on health-related human enhancements only and discuss the possibility of justifying
moral bioenhancement for space missions. I point out that there are many rationales in favor of such an application, but also some ethical nuances that can make this concept a dangerous tool.
Also, chapter 8 maintains the atmosphere of the further future, where I consider the concept of space refuge, but in a specific conceptual context—the philosophy of antinatalism, population ethics, and the ethics of future humans. The main idea of this chapter is this: if the quality of life in a future space colony is too low, we have good reasons for not seeking to save humanity through space colonization. But how do we know if life in space will actually be worse than life on Earth, especially in the situation when the motive for establishing a space colony is a drastic deterioration of living conditions on Earth or even the impossibility of further continuation of existence on Earth (at least as a life worth living)? In this context, I also discuss the possibilities offered by human enhancement for countering antinatalist objections.
The book also includes an appendix on futures studies. The appendix can be read either before or after the book. It is an important supplement to the discussed topics as it shows how space bioethics fits into, and in a sense is a part of, futures studies.
When I talk about space missions, I am referring to future space missions, lasting at least a few years, that will be deployed to Mars or even beyond, possibly to asteroids seen as attractive from a space mining perspective. What is important here is the deliberate adoption of the perspective of space expeditions that will be carried out much further than the missions currently being carried out, that is, beyond the orbit of the Earth and beyond the Moon. Mars is the most obvious and legitimate choice here. However, in this book I will not go into a consideration of the sensibility or validity of such a choice. Nor will I give into such details when I take up the subject of commercial exploitation of space, including Mars, talk about scientific exploration of Mars, or the challenges to human health and life associated with that planet’s surface and atmosphere.9
In summary, despite the orientation toward considerations of the future, my focus in the book is on what can realistically happen in the future, intentionally eschewing considerations of a lower degree of reality.
Human Health Risks in Space and the Methodology of Space Bioethics
Introduction: Long-Duration Human Space Missions
I make the following assumptions in this book: (1) humanity will pursue long-term and deep-space missions; (2) the space environment is and will continue to be too dangerous for humans, at least given conventional countermeasures;1 (3) various types of biomedical human enhancement will be available, or at least humanity will be working hard on their development and possible applications; (4) the accomplishment of at least some types of long-term space missions will require the application of human enhancement, which at least today is considered ethically controversial.
I argue that planned-in-next-decades human spaceflights to Mars, and in the future beyond, may require application of substantial forms of human enhancement. The context of space missions may be a kind of case study for ethical assessment of the idea of human enhancement which today is discussed in rather abstract context. It is possible that the first enhanced humans will be the first deep-space astronauts. Future human space missions to Mars and beyond may be realized for different research, economic, political, or survival reasons. Since space remains a hazardous environment for humans, space exploration and exploitation requires the development and deployment of effective countermeasures.
The subject of my interest is bioethical challenges only with regard to long-term and deep-space missions, that is, missions lasting at least one year, as well as missions beyond Earth orbit. Thus, the subject of my interest is missions that have never been flown before, because missions lasting more than a year have only been flown in orbit, and those beyond the limits of Earth’s orbit, such as missions to the Moon, lasted only a few days. Therefore, the topic of my book equally overlaps with so-called futures studies and is part of what can be called the philosophy and bioethics of the future or reflection on the future of humans in light of new technologies.
Although I will devote chapter 6 to the question to what extent the environment of space missions is ethically unique and to what extent it resembles selected moral environments of the Earth, it is already worth emphasizing that the environment of so-called deep-space is unique in its physical, health, and thus also ethical (although it does not yet follow its bioethical) aspects. These unique features of the deep-space environment are (1) the presence of unknown risks, (2) the lack of proven effectiveness
of preventive and protective measures against those risks that it can define, (3) and human isolation (Ball and Evans 2001, 2).
Points 1 and 2 challenge the precautionary principle and, depending on the preferred approach, may suggest either postponement of space missions or preemptive application of human enhancement. Point 2, in particular, warrants application, or at least discussion of the possibility and sensibility of application of human enhancement. Finally, point 3 identifies the challenges of isolation and also may argue in favor of human enhancement, which in the context of isolation can be understood in two ways: to minimize the sensation of isolation by applying enhancements, as well as to minimize the health risks, especially of clinical care in space, that result from the inability to return to Earth quickly (or at all) by applying human enhancements. Long-term extra-orbital missions make a qualitative, not just quantitative, difference compared to current missions, and the continuing lack of complete knowledge and certainty is a major challenge here (Ball and Evans 2001, 3).
In summary, the inadequacy of countermeasures and the specificity of long-term deep-space missions open up space for considering human enhancement as a reasonable option.
Space Environment and Health Challenges
Space is not a livable place for humans not only without a life support system, but also without protection against cosmic radiation. Let’s look at the example of Mars, considered as the best and most realistic location for a future human habitat in space. The Sun’s ultraviolet radiation reaches the surface of Mars unstopped by a very thin atmosphere. Such radiation is deadly to life. In addition, the soil on Mars is oxidizing, which, combined with ultraviolet radiation, destroys organic compounds. Consequently, even the most primitive—and therefore more resilient than forms as complex as human being—life forms could survive on Mars only below the surface, in protected areas such as hydrothermal systems or aquifers (Carr 1996, 170–171). Life forms, in order to survive the threat posed by cosmic radiation on Mars, would have to somehow adapt to these harsh conditions, either through the aforementioned life in subsurface niches or in dormant form. In contrast, the existence of life is plausible insofar as microbes can survive anywhere on Earth where water is available, regardless of chemical or physical conditions, and the same is theoretically possible on Mars (Carr 2006, 272).
The space environment, both in interplanetary travel and on the surfaces of other planets, such as Mars, contains such elements harmful and threatening to humans as different types of cosmic radiation, altered gravity, continuous stay in a closed and small spaces without the possibility of leaving, isolation, and distance from Earth. Humans are simply evolutionarily unsuited to confront such environmental conditions. Consequently, each of these environmental factors exposes astronauts to
problems in essentially all areas of health, with cosmic radiation remaining the most dangerous factor.2
The Committee on Creating a Vision for Space Medicine during Travel beyond Earth Orbit identifies the following three biggest health challenges in space: space radiation, bone mineral density loss, and behavioral adaptation. As the committee points out, failure to address these three problems will make interplanetary missions impossible. The second challenge is caused by altered gravity and results in changes at the rate of losing 1 percent mineral density per month (Ball and Evans 2001, 3).
In contrast, in the case of difficulties with behavioral adaptation, it can be seen that this risk opens the door to a discussion of the validity of the concept of moral bioenhancement. While I’m not saying that any space agency will ever go for it—in fact, they certainly will not if public ethics remains unchanged, but after all, things could change in the decades to come—I raise this point as an interesting thought experiment that shows how moral bioenhancement might work in a specific, closed environment unlike any other on Earth, where the existence of multiple rationales for and against space missions will be an important element. What if it is precisely the difficulty of behavioral adaptation to the conditions of the space environment that will be raised as the main argument against such a mission, and proponents of biomedical moral enhancement propose it as a solution to the problem?
Similar questions can be raised about the negative impact of altered gravity and cosmic radiation when it becomes apparent that either no alternative and effective countermeasures exist, or their production, theoretically possible, would put many decades or centuries off the realization of long-term space missions (such as the creation of artificial gravity through centrifugal acceleration (NASA 2021) or pose a serious challenge, if not a threat, to the other key factors necessary for space missions (e.g., significantly increasing the thickness of spacecraft walls to more effectively protect against cosmic radiation, which would probably preclude flight until new generation engines and a new source of propulsion are invented (Slaba et al. 2017)).3
In conclusion, it can be said that the space environment is characterized by the presence of constant, very dangerous factors as space radiation and altered gravity, which justify the option of human enhancement for future long-term missions of astronauts.
What We Can Modify, and Why
The greatest challenge to human biology in space is cosmic radiation (Crusan et al. 2018), (Szocik and Braddock 2019), (Mason 2021, 114). One option for modifying humans to increase their resistance to cosmic radiation is genetic modification. Modification could involve implementing p53 genes from elephants and/or Dsup genes from tardigrades, which have high radiation resistance (Mason 2021, 108).4
I believe that the scope of modifications applied for the purpose of space exploration should be limited only to those modifications that are actually required for the
purpose of saving humans from health impairments.5 Protection from the negative effects of altered gravity or cosmic radiation is the main point of reference and justification for human enhancements here. In one of my papers, I proposed the notion of technological duty, meaning that whether or not the application of human enhancement for space missions is consistent with our moral intuitions, we have no other choice if certain types of long-term space missions are to be pursued (Szocik and Wójtowicz 2019).
More controversial and unclear remains the modification of humans to enhance their efficiency. Modifications can theoretically be applied for this purpose as well, but only under the condition of proving that they are necessary, and that the expected decrease in efficiency will be so great that it may not only harm the success of the mission, but even endanger the health and lives of astronauts by triggering a sequence of events leading to unfortunate accidents. This is why I don’t even seriously consider concepts such as, but not limited to, cyborg, cyborgization and “cyborg enhancement technologies” (Barfield and Williams 2017) because we lack proof of dangerous inefficiency.
Certainly, an astronaut or a future space settler who is modified even at the GGE level to protect herself from the harmful space environment will not be a cyborg. But anyone equipped with neuroprostheses or brain-computer interfaces could be considered a cyborg. However, I fail to see the validity of using them for even longduration and remote space missions, assuming that technologies external to the human body will suffice for computational and other cognitive functions. Imagine a bank employee who, instead of using a calculator as well as the special programs she might need, is fitted with an invasive neuroimplant or interface. I assume the legitimacy of this analogy to the space mission environment. I consider it appropriate and reasonable to apply neural enhancement that has therapeutic justification. In contrast, I find no justification for the superenhancements eagerly discussed by philosophers, such as those aimed at, for example, the ability to detect distances to objects or approaching objects, or the ability to control a wheelchair or a group of robots with neural signals (Warwick 2020). In the penultimate case, the exception may be health reasons that preclude the possibility of traditional manual control and make control by neural signals the only therapeutic possibility.
The moral status of cognitive enhancement for space exploration may leave a margin of ambiguity. This is primarily related to what we consider cognitive enhancement to be, how much of it will be truly necessary (impossible to replace by external devices or training), and how much of it will be redundant (easily replaced or supplemented by external devices and systems).
Cognitive enhancement in its basic sense, meaning the modification of currently possessed cognitive functions includes, but is not limited to “decision-making, reasonability, memory, judgement, situational awareness, attention span, and complex problem solving” (Latheef and Henschke 2020). Thus, so understood, it has morally, pragmatically, and socially desirable goals. Moreover, increasing the effectiveness of these capacities not only serves them or the particular tasks in the performance of
which these functions are activated. They are seen as tools and means leading to an increase in the scope of human autonomy as well as the degree of moral decisionmaking. Both brain–computer interfaces and noninvasive brain stimulation have applications in increasing the computational capacity of the human brain or enhancing the ability to divide attention, especially in task overload and dynamic situations (Latheef and Henschke 2020). In this respect, the dynamics and specifics of the battlefield resemble the environment of space missions, as evidenced by the overload of astronauts on the International Space Station. It is one thing, however, to pharmacologically enhance concentration or attention, but quite another—if it were possible from the standpoint of medical technology—to genetically modify or invasively implant to enhance cognition, whatever that might mean.
Still other possibilities than human enhancement are offered by synthetic biology. The rationale for synthetic biology is quite similar to the rationale for human enhancement. Tim Lewens believes that synthetic biology is not a qualitatively new phenomenon from the point of view of bioethical issues, but “it involves a further step towards one end of the ‘design continuum’: it involves an effort to apply rational design principles to the organic world” (Lewens 2015, 78). Thus understood, synthetic biology realizes Mason’s idea of “genetic liberty” (Mason 2021). It may also be necessary to save humanity from extinction if it turns out that not only human enhancement but even synthetic biology is required to enable humans to settle in space. Synthetic biology may also be required to enable humans to become a multiplanetary species in a variant that is noninvasive to the population remaining on Earth. This option would involve sending instructions to assemble humans from scratch in a new space environment (Anomaly 2020, 72). It is worth keeping this option in mind as a technological possibility to realize the concept of saving the existence of the human species in the distant future, however specifically understood.6
In conclusion, human enhancement is understood as a necessary tool, not an extravagant or trivial one, considered as a necessary means to safely and effectively accomplish space missions.
Methodology of Space Bioethics
The methodology of space bioethics deserves a separate book to be written. Here, out of necessity, I must limit myself only to outlining the general framework that guides my methodological approach to bioethical challenges in future long-term and deepspace missions. Just as bioethics in general emerged as a result of philosophical and ethical reflection concerning the legitimacy and possible controversies in the application of new medical technologies (Callahan 2004), so it can be assumed that the bioethics of space missions will “take off” somewhat unexpectedly with the new stage of human development—the entry of humanity into deep space and long-term, perhaps permanent sojourn in a deep-space. This new technical state of affairs—for it is evidently caused by advances in space technology—while not in itself constituting any
novel medical procedure of the kinds considered in the birth of “classical” bioethics in the 1960s, will certainly constitute a new inspiration for bioethical reflections.
In my understanding of space bioethics, I refer to John McMillan’s conception (which in turn works on Margaret Battin’s theory), in which bioethics is a pragmatic and reactive discipline, focused on developing and elaborating moral rationales for relevant and pressing issues (McMillan 2018, 11–12).7 Also, following McMillan and other bioethicists, I believe that no ethical theory should determine bioethical considerations (McMillan 2018, 35). Thus, space bioethics, like bioethics in general, should be issue-driven, not theory-driven. I also refer to the understanding of bioethics proposed by Ruth F. Chadwick and Udo Schüklenk who point out that bioethical analyses need not be and usually are not as deep and complex as metaethical considerations. But the task of bioethical deliberation is to take some perspective, such as a chosen normative concept, apply it to the biomedical cases being analyzed, and then see where the argumentation takes us (Chadwick and Schüklenk 2021).8
Another important criterion is “engagement with experience” and “engagement with reality” (McMillan 2018). McMillan seems to be critical of thought experiments on bioethical issues, such as the famous violinist experiment in Thomson’s 1971 article. As McMillan himself notes, the essence of philosophical thought experiments is to draw attention to the correctness of reasoning and the clarity of concepts, not to describe real-life situations. However, this does not change the fact that they are far from reality and sometimes it can be difficult to embody the situation discussed in a given experiment by means of abstract analogy.
Space bioethics is specific, however, because of the object of its study, namely potential challenges in future space missions. Thus, it is important to distinguish between what McMillan says about the application of thought experiments to currently happening biomedical procedures and the situation in which a biomedical procedure is considered in abstracto, as not yet happening in reality. Since my goal is to outline the potential effects of various alternative future scenarios and to show that each has certain bioethical implications, I use some thought experiments or hypothetical examples. However, this is due to the specificity of the subject matter. In any case, the constant reference to experience is due to the fact that I am considering realistic alternatives, however far in the future they may be.9
For these and other reasons bioethics must be empirical in nature. Being theory driven unnecessarily brings bioethics closer to such “unreal” branches of philosophy as metaphysics or epistemology, which can function perfectly well without reference to empirical knowledge. Bioethics, though, must be “practically normative” (McMillan 2018, 94). This empirical context of bioethics is not only connected with its interdisciplinarity, but—in the context of space bioethics—it also results from the interdisciplinarity of space philosophy and space ethics (Schwartz and Milligan 2016; Schwartz 2018, 2021).
I assume that the most optimal methodological perspective for space bioethics is the issue-driven orientation, which consequently leads me here not to consider arguments inherent in ethical theories based on a few specific principles (theory-driven
approach and principle-based ethical theories).10 I take a perspective that analyzes a particular situation, place, and time, as well as the context of the people involved in a given ethical situation, in the way considered by care, or feminist theories (Veatch and Guidry- Grimes 2020), but I also examine whether the classic four principles of bioethics apply (whether they can, should, or must) in selected contexts of future space missions.11
My approach to moral norms and ethical and bioethical theories is close to what Robert M. Berry calls “fractious problems,” which are highly complex, in principle almost impossible to solve unambiguously with a chosen theory, generated by advances in science faster than our moral intuitions. Berry cites the views of Alasdair MacIntyre and Thomas Kuhn on a kind of insolvability of issues in contemporary moral debate and values. He cites Macintyre talking about the incommensurability of systems. This may lead to a situation in which different ethical theories offer different answers to the question of acceptability of the procedure or behavior under analysis. But, as Kuhn quoted by Berry says, there is a set of values to which the conflicting sides of the scientific debate refer (Berry 2007, 2–3).
My approach to ethical norms and theories is closest to some version of particularism. Particularism is often heavily criticized (plea of skepticism), primarily because it leads to an infinite regress and does not really provide a definitive answer to the question of the basis for a given norm (Tännsjö 1998, 12). However, as I point out in the book, there are good reasons for recognizing some contextual value of particularism and specification in relation to the space mission environment.
Preference for particularism and an issue-driven approach does not mean the exclusion of any principles. We usually agree that the moral duty is to protect human life or not to cause suffering, unless justified by necessary defense or medical procedures designed to cure the patient. In the book, I often refer to the four principles of autonomy, beneficence, nonmaleficence, and justice proposed by Tom L. Beauchamp and James F. Childress (Beauchamp and Childress 2013).
It is not difficult to imagine a situation involving space exploration in which, as in many bioethical cases on Earth, we will have to deal with the conflict between principles, rules, or duties. If at least two duties appear to be prima facie duties, how to identify duty proper in the context of space exploration?12 Acceptance of the nonconsequentialist approach can have negative consequences for mission success. The duty-based approach will lead to a situation where, in case of conflict with the consequence-maximizing approach, certain duties will be considered more important than the desire to maximize desirable consequences (Veatch and GuidryGrimes 2020, 73). The mentioned four principles involve potentially conflicting ethical approaches, consequentialist and deontological. For example, the principle of autonomy as such is in conflict with principles of beneficence and nonmaleficence (Chadwick and Schüklenk 2021, 30–32).13
It is accepted that the main task of bioethics is to warn about the potential risks of applying new biomedical technologies. But it is useful to change this perspective from one that denies to one that affirms, and to see bioethics as an advocate for new
technologies that have potential benefits. In this approach, what is risky is not the application of the technology, but the lost benefits of its application (the so-called opportunity-cost) (Ravitsky 2021). As I show in the book, space bioethics should first of all be open to the possibilities guaranteed by space missions, as well as to the radical human enhancement that even makes them possible. This is the starting point. At a later stage, however, space bioethics should carefully evaluate potential threats posed either by space missions or by human enhancements applied for their purposes.14
In sum, the methodology of space bioethics should focus on a case-by-case analysis considered in particular circumstances, without prejudging a preference for any normative theory, principles or rules.
Mixed Methods and Issue-Driven Approaches to Space Bioethics
Many issues concerning future long-term space missions today are still unresolved. For we do not know what type of missions we will pursue, if any, and we also do not know whether we will produce conventional countermeasures that would allow us to forego applications of what are today considered controversial biomedical human enhancements.15 Finally, we do not know whether we will have all the desired and effective biomedical enhancements in a future in which such missions are technically feasible, nor whether they will continue to be considered controversial. Under such conditions, the optimal approach is to apply mixed methods to the space bioethics, a syncretic approach that will not favor one chosen perspective.
Let us begin with what bioethics has encountered with respect to biomedical controversies on Earth. Many procedures that are treated routinely today, and are often recommended and desired by both patients and physicians, that is, organ transplants, in vitro fertilization, withdrawal of life support, and many others, were no less controversial in the beginning than human enhancement through genome editing is today. Despite this controversy, over time these procedures have become accepted. This shows that what drives health policy and public health law is consequentialist thinking. For we look at whether we will get better consequences in the world by banning transplants or in vitro fertilization or by allowing them.
Deontological thinking is also interwoven here, at least as long as we have to recognize as a moral obligation the duty to protect human life. However, first, these duties can be derived from the consequentialist principle of beneficence, and second, even if the principle of the protection of life in the context of healthcare were indeed dutybased principles, the deontological approach is a major opponent to new biomedical technologies. For often, as I will show in the next chapter, bioconservative opposition to human enhancement is derived from principles such as the protection of dignity, the inviolability of the natural, autonomy, or justice. I believe that deontologism is valuable as an expression of prudential skepticism, but at some stage, with both the safety of the biomedical procedure in question and agreement about its guaranteed
benefits, it should be rejected as an approach that impedes the development and advancement of quality-of-life ethics.
In such a way, we can say that in this syncretic, methodologically open approach to space bioethics, if we refer to the two main theories of right action, namely consequentialism (consequence maximizing principles) and deontologism (dutybased principles), space bioethics favors consequentialist rather than deontological thinking. Nonetheless, sometimes some good consequences should not be allowed when they would require the suspension of certain principles, such as the protection of human life or autonomy. I do not prohibit or make mandatory any human enhancement procedure, but I do draw attention to the consequences and to whether these critical principles may be violated in individual cases.16
As an example, let us look at the now controversial concept of GGE. I am not prohibiting or demanding the application of this procedure to space missions. Instead, I analyze the consequences of two scenarios, one that forbids this application and one that permits it, and draw conclusions about whether GGE might be morally permissible, or perhaps even desirable, under given conditions. In contrast, I do not believe that any human enhancement has the status of a moral obligation, because I concede that there can always be at least subjective objections of some individuals and these should always be taken into account. Recommendations can be derived from my approach to space bioethics, but certainly not moral obligations. A person must always have an alternative and cannot be forced into a given action even if it has only good consequences.
On the other hand, where, in my opinion, the application of a given biomedical procedure will lead to a scenario with better consequences than the alternative of forbidding the procedure, I recommend such human enhancement in a given context. In this sense, space bioethics can be said to have a consequentialist tinge, but even if it is a statistically dominant way of analyzing biomedical issues, it is decidedly not absolute and sometimes gives way to, for example, deontic ethics. Indeed, space bioethics is context-dependent.
Space bioethics can also make good use of contractualism. Rawlsian contractualism assumes an initial lack of knowledge about the details of a given moral situation, and most importantly, a lack of knowledge about our position and standing in the particular situation being considered as a moral dilemma. The concept of the “veil of ignorance” is the key term here, and it expresses the situation in which we must determine what is morally right without knowing whether we would be the beneficiaries of a given ethical decision (Rawls 1999). In practice, contractualism often remains aligned with utilitarianism. Both the proponents of the one17 and the other theory usually emphasize the necessity of making such moral decisions that favor obtaining the greatest possible good (Huang et al. 2019).
Principlism is similarly useful as an approach that gives a general framework. At least the first versions of principlism were based on the deductive method and involved the application of abstract principles. It was a top-down method, often criticized, which should not be used by space bioethics. But it is difficult to move entirely
