Rewriting Humanity: Why We Must Set Limits on Designing the Next Generation

Opinion

In the not-so-distant past, the idea of designing one’s offspring belonged to science fiction. Genetic technologies were developed with noble aims — to cure diseases and prevent deadly inherited illnesses. Indeed, tools like in vitro fertilization (IVF) combined with preimplantation genetic diagnosis (PGD) have allowed parents at risk of transmitting serious disorders (such as cystic fibrosis or Huntington’s disease) to have healthy children. These advances were initially about disease prevention, an extension of medicine to eliminate suffering before birth.

However, what began as a way to avert tragedy has steadily inched toward enhancing traits. Today, whispers of “designer babies” are growing louder. A little girl named Aurea, born in May 2020, was the first baby selected based on a polygenic score — essentially chosen from several IVF embryos for having the lowest risk of future disease. This marked a turning point: using genetic predictions to optimize a child’s health prospects, beyond simply avoiding single-gene illnesses. Bioethicists at the Center for Genetics and Society pointedly called this new polygenic screening a reach toward “techno-eugenics.”

Now, the wealthy are pushing the envelope even further. In late 2024, an undercover investigation revealed that a U.S. startup (operating in stealth mode) was offering to help wealthy couples screen their IVF embryos for desirable traits — including predicted IQ. For a price tag of up to $50,000, clients could have 100 embryos created and genetically analyzed, then select one to implant based on a ranking of “IQ and the other naughty traits everybody wants,” such as sex, height, and even lower risk of obesity or mental illness. The company’s CEO boasted that this service could yield children who are “basically disease-free, smart, healthy; it’s going to be great.” What sounds like a sales pitch from a dystopian thriller is, in fact, reality for those who can pay.

The State of Genetic Customization Today These developments raise the question: How is this allowed? In the United States, the regulatory landscape for embryo selection and genetic editing is remarkably permissive compared to many other nations. There are no federal laws explicitly forbidding selection of embryos for non-medical traits. For example, choosing an embryo’s sex for personal preference (not just disease avoidance) is legal and increasingly common in U.S. fertility clinics. In contrast, countries like the U.K. tightly regulate reproductive genetics — British law allows embryo testing only for a specified list of serious diseases, and explicitly bans picking embryos for traits like high IQ or height. The lack of regulation has made it a magnet for “fertility tourism” and entrepreneurial clinics ready to cater to parental whims.

Yet even in the U.S., openly marketing designer babies is controversial. When a Los Angeles fertility doctor announced in 2009 that he would let parents choose eye color, hair color, and other cosmetic traits, it sparked public outrage and condemnation from peers. He quickly withdrew the proposal. The technology at that time was crude — essentially an extension of PGD — but it showed the appetite was there. Now with big-data genetics and polygenic risk scores, the toolkit is far more sophisticated (at least on paper). Startups and IVF clinics are tiptoeing into this new era, often behind closed doors. The case of the IQ-screening startup, Heliospect Genomics, came to light only through an investigative sting operation. It revealed that at least five couples had already used the service and had pregnancies underway — proof that some elite parents are willing to be early adopters of embryo selection for enhancements.

What about direct gene editing of embryos? Here, there is a de facto red line — for now. In 2018, a Chinese scientist, He Jiankui, shocked the world by announcing the birth of twin girls whose DNA he had edited as embryos to make them HIV-resistant. The experiment was widely condemned as unethical and reckless; He Jiankui was fired and sentenced to prison in China. The case underscored the global scientific consensus that implanting gene-edited embryos is off-limits until safety and ethical issues are resolved. In the U.S., the Food and Drug Administration has explicitly banned clinical trials of heritable genome editing — meaning no CRISPR-designed babies can currently be legally born in America. Even leading researchers urging caution have noted that germline edits, unlike therapies on existing patients, would alter future generations and could introduce unknown harms. So far now, CRISPR babies remain beyond the pale. But the age of embryo selection is here, filling the vacuum: rather than editing genes, wealthy would-be parents can achieve similar ends by creating many embryos and picking the “best” one. This approach, as prominent bioethicist Henry Greely observes, can accomplish almost everything gene editing promised, without the technical risks of CRISPR.

Drawing the Red Line: Health vs. Enhancement All of this forces society to confront a crucial question: where do we draw the line on engineering our children’s genetics? A broad consensus is emerging that a distinction must be made between medical necessity and elective enhancement. Using gene editing or embryo selection to prevent a child from suffering a serious disease is widely seen as an ethical use of technology — essentially an extension of preventive medicine. Surveys show strong public support for this. For example, a 2018 Pew Research Center poll found that 76% of Americans approve of editing an unborn baby’s genes to prevent a serious disease at birth. Even editing to reduce the lifetime risk of a disease (like heart disease or cancer) was supported by about 60% of respondents. There is a humane logic here: if we have the ability to safely eliminate a tragic illness that might afflict a child, many feel we should do so. It’s the same reason PGD is accepted for removing embryos with lethal genetic disorders — a compassionate society wants to “avoid having affected children”, as one UK geneticist put it.

But that support drops off steeply when it comes to using these tools for non-medical enhancements. The public instinctively recognizes a moral boundary. The Pew poll showed that boosting a baby’s intelligence or other talents is viewed as a step “too far” by a majority of Americans — only 19% said editing genes to make a baby more intelligent would be appropriate. Other polls have found similar aversion to tinkering with a child’s appearance, height, or athletic ability. In short, there is a widespread agreement that curing disease is acceptable, designing “perfect” kids is not. This is the red line many propose: use genetics to treat or prevent illness, but not to create so-called “designer” children. Even many scientists who champion gene therapy have echoed this view, emphasizing that we should focus on medical benefits and avoid an upgrade-orientated mindset.

Importantly, drawing this line isn’t just about abstract ethics — it’s about what kind of society we want. Crossing into enhancements raises profound concerns. One issue is the return of eugenics in a new form. Advocates of laissez-faire designer baby services often use the term “liberal eugenics” — the idea that individual parents, not the state, choose enhancements for their children. They argue it’s an extension of parental freedom and ambition. Indeed, a consultant for the IQ-screening startup defended this as letting parents “improve their children’s prospects once it’s available.” But critics note that even voluntary, market-driven eugenics can create a dystopian dynamic. If affluent families compete to buy the “best” genes for their kids, what does that do to the rest of us?

A Future of Genetic Haves and Have-Nots? Allowing unrestricted genetic enhancement could dangerously exacerbate social inequality. We already live in a world of haves and have-nots; unfettered designer baby technology threatens to literalize that divide in our DNA. Science fiction has long warned of this possibility. The 1997 film Gattaca depicts a future society stratified into “Valids” — those genetically optimized before birth — and “In-Valids” who were conceived naturally and are deemed inferior. In Gattaca, one’s genome is a social passport: the genetically privileged dominate top jobs and institutions, while others face discrimination and diminished opportunities. What was once fantasy is now uncomfortably close to reality. As a scientific commentator observed, Gattaca’s scenario of “genetic haves and have-nots” could emerge if the wealthy alone can afford to make their offspring smarter, taller, or resistant to disease. The director of the 2010 film adaptation of Never Let Me Go (based on Kazuo Ishiguro’s novel) likewise painted a chilling picture: in that story, human clones are produced to provide spare organs for their originals. It’s an extreme hypothetical, but it speaks to the core fear — that we might start seeing certain humans as mere means to an end, valued only for their engineered traits or biological utility.

Even leading researchers caution that genetic enhancement could entrench privilege. Bioethicist Ronald Green warns that as the well-to-do exploit technologies to make themselves even better off, we risk widening the health and capability gap between rich and poor. A child of wealthy parents could be born free not just of disease, but endowed with extra enhancements — effectively given a head start that no amount of education or environment could overcome for others. Over generations, this might create a genetic class system, undermining the fundamental moral premise that all humans are created equal. “One of the biggest problems is that it normalises this idea of ‘superior’ and ‘inferior’ genetics,” says Katie Hasson of The Center for Genetics and Society. If such a mindset takes root, people may begin to believe inequality is biologically determined and inevitable, rather than addressing the social causes of disparity. The stakes, then, are not just individual choice but the character of our society. Do we want a future where children’s genomes are a luxury consumer product, and where those with “unenhanced” genes are stigmatized?

There are also scientific and ethical uncertainties attached to crossing this line. Complex traits like intelligence or personality are influenced by thousands of genes and gene interactions, most of which we scarcely understand. Predictions based on polygenic scores are probabilistic and often unreliable for an individual — a child rated as “high IQ” by an embryo test might still fall anywhere on the spectrum of ability. This means many parents could be sold false promises, and many children could face unfair expectations. Furthermore, any form of germline editing carries the risk of unintended effects. CRISPR, for instance, can introduce off-target mutations or unknown health tradeoffs. The CRISPR babies in China may have gained HIV resistance, but some researchers worry they might have become more susceptible to other diseases, or that the gene tweak could have cognitive side effects. The full consequences might only be revealed as those children grow up — a human experiment that cannot easily be undone.

Potential Warnings from Fiction Works It is telling that nearly every time a new milestone in genetic technology is announced, commentators invoke dystopian literature or films. Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World imagined a society where human embryos are industrially engineered into castes — from intelligent leaders down to servile workers — conditioned from birth to accept their predestined status. While our world isn’t there, the moral of Huxley’s tale resonates: losing control of where science is taking us can lead to a loss of our humanity.

Some stories also highlight the emotional and psychological toll of a world with designer or purpose-bred children. In Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro, the cloned youths grapple with the anguish of knowing they were created as means to another’s end — it’s a heart-wrenching meditation on the value of a human soul when society only regards your body. In a more relatable vein, consider the perspective of the children in a designer baby paradigm. If a child knows their parents paid to optimize their traits, will that burden them with crushing expectations? Conversely, if another child was born naturally and finds herself surrounded by genetically “enhanced” peers, how will that shape her self-worth?

A world that tolerates genetic augmentation of some children risks dehumanizing all children — seeing them less as persons to be unconditionally loved, and more as projects to be perfected.

Sources:

  • Ball, Philip. “Designer babies: an ethical horror waiting to happen?” The Guardian. 8 Jan 2017.
  • Devlin, Hannah et al. “US startup charging couples to ‘screen embryos for IQ’.” The Guardian. 18 Oct 2024.
  • Ball, Philip. “Polygenic screening of embryos is here, but is it ethical?” The Guardian. 17 Oct 2021.
  • Long, Heather. “‘Designer babies’: the ultimate privileged elite?” The Guardian. 9 Jul 2013.
  • Spear, Lisa. “Majority of Americans Favor Editing DNA of Unborn Babies to Treat Disease, But Not Enhancements.” Newsweek. 27 Jul 2018.
  • Never Let Me Go, directed by Mark Romanek (2010) — Film adaptation of Kazuo Ishiguro’s novel (dystopian scenario of human clones).
  • Gattaca, directed by Andrew Niccol (1997) — Science fiction film depicting a future society stratified by genetically engineered traits.
  • Syfy Wire. “Gattaca and the science behind gene-altering, explained.” 20 Oct 2022.