Greg Pence

As the #1 topic in bioethics, cloning has made big news since Dolly's announced birth in 1998. In a new book building on his classic Who's Afraid of Human Cloning?, pioneering bioethicist Gregory E. Pence continues to advocate a reasoned view of cloning. Beginning with his surreal experiences as an expert witness before Congressional and California legislative committees, Pence analyzes the astounding recent progress in animal cloning; the coming surprises about human cloning; the links between animal, stem cell, and human cloning; embryo politics; and other hot topics like artificial wombs and transgenic animals. Pence rebuts the growing chorus of naysayers headed by Leon Kass, chairman of the President's Council on Bioethics, who attack the biomedical sciences, and explains why cloning will save endangered species and beloved pets, and help future children and people with degenerative diseases.

Human cloning raises the most profound questions about human nature, our faith in ourselves, and our ability to make decisions that could significantly alter the character of humanity. In this exciting and accessible book, Gregory Pence offers a candid and sometimes humorous look at the arguments for and against human cloning. Originating a human being by cloning, Pence boldly argues, should not strike fear in our hearts but should be examined as a reasonable reproductive option for couples. Pence considers how popular culture has influenced the way we think about cloning, and he presents a lucid and non-technical examination of the scientific research and relevant moral issues in the cloning debate. This book is a must-read for anyone who is concerned about the impact of technology on human life and for those with interests in medical ethics, sociology, and public policy.

In the first written volume of David Hume's History of England, Hume describes Oliver Cromwell in this uncomplimentary way:The strokes of his character are as open and strongly marked, as the schemes of his conduct were, during the time, dark and unpenetrable. His extensive capacity enabled him to form the most enlarged projects: His enterprising genius was not dismayed with the boldest and most dangerous. Carried, by his natural temper, to magnanimity, to grandeur, and to an imperious and domineering policy: he knew, when necessary, to employ the most profound dissimulation, the most oblique and refined artiface, the semblance of the greatest moderation and simplicity. A friend to justice, tho’ his public conduct was one continued violation of it; devoted to religion, tho’ he perpetually employed it as the instrument of his ambition; his crimes derived from the prospect of sovereign power, a temptation, which is, in general, irresistible to human nature.

Socrates (in the Meno) denied that virtues like courage could be taught, whereas Protagoras defended this claim. Compassion is discussed below in this context; it is distinguished from related, but different, moral qualities, and the role of imagination is emphasised. 'Sympathy's and role-modelling views of compassion's acquisition are criticised. Compassion can indeed be taught, but neither by the example of a few, isolated physicians nor by creation of Departments of Compassion. In replying to one standard objection to teaching compassion, it is emphasised that scientific competence and compassion aren't mutually exclusive