Who's your daddy? Genes, aspiration, and the Nobel Prize sperm bank

Washington Monthly, May, 2005 by Shannon Brownlee

Plotz's writing loses some of its zip when he recounts the lives of the children and the moments when they finally meet their biological fathers; I also found myself wanting a more penetrating and forward-looking analysis of the deeper questions behind the urge to endow offspring with genius genes. Two decades ago, a couple hoping to boost their child's genetic inheritance had only a supposed genius sperm bank to turn to. Today, they can use genetic screening technologies to weed out embryos with undesirable defects, the gene that causes cystic fibrosis, for example, or fragile X, which leads to severe retardation. This sort of homegrown eugenics might seem like a merciful use of technology, yet when it's also possible to detect the gene or genes that contribute to short stature or the tendency to day-dream, will parents want those embryos tossed out of the Petri dish, too? One day, reproductive technologies may even allow parents to add genes for desired traits, potentially turning children into a kind of custom-ordered commodity like cars, rather than a gift to be nurtured toward adulthood.

Indeed, the belief that genes are destiny can all too easily warp the relationship between parent and child, even for the families whose children were born as a result of Grahams lower-tech grand experiment. As Plotz describes one boy's feelings about his heritage, "When your mom tells you you have to do better, you try to do better. But when your mom tells you your genes say you have to do better, it's different. You lose your free will." The irony, of course, is that, as far as Plotz could determine, most of the 215 children sired by the Nobel sperm bank have turned out to be about as accomplished and intelligent as their mothers. So much for the power of genetic patrimony.

Shannon Brownlee is a Bernard L. Schwartz senior fellow at the New America Foundation.