By The Reverend Professor Andrew Linzey, Director of Oxford Centre for Animal Ethics

The European Patent Office is currently considering official opposition to its granting of a patent for the ‘oncomouse’ — a mouse genetically engineered to develop cancer. I shall attempt to argue in this article that patenting animals is contrary to the moral implications of creation doctrine.

Controversy concerning the oncomouse has not unnaturally focused on the issue of suffering to animals and whether genetically engineered animals (in this case a mouse genetically designed to develop cancer) are likely to lead to an increased level of suffering among laboratory animals. This is an important consideration (addressed below) but there is a prior question which requires as much, if not more, attention, and that is whether the granting of patents for genetically engineered animals is acceptable in principle.

We should be clear at the start what the granting of a patent would mean. A patent confers the legal status of ownership. For the first time — in a European context at least — animals will be classed legally as property without any duty of care, becoming in fact no more than human artefacts or inventions. If the application for a patent is successful, it will mark the lowest status granted to animals in the history of European ethics. While historically animals have sometimes been thought of as ‘things’ — beings without rights or value — the patenting of animals will mark their enduring legal classification in these terms.

Is such a use and classification of animal life compatible with the Christian doctrine that animals are God’s creatures? While it is commonplace for Christians (and Jews and Muslims) to posit that God is the loving Creator of all things, the moral implications of this belief are seldom appreciated. I shall summarise here five such implications which suggest a prima facie incompatibility:

(i) Animals have an irreducible non-utilitarian value. By this I mean that because animals have the ontological status of creatures, their worth and value is not reducible to what humans may deem valuable. By and large humans do, of course, regard animals as possessing value, usually though not always, of an instrumental or utilitarian kind. European culture is marked by the massive usage of animals for food, for sport, and for research. But what the Christian doctrine of creation requires us to grasp is that human estimations of our own worth and value cannot be the sole grounds for evaluating the worth of other creatures.

We need therefore to make a fundamental distinction between human estimations of the value of animals and the value that God places upon them. Whatever else may be said from a theological perspective, it can never be sufficient simply to say that the value of a given creature can be solely, or even mainly, determined by its utilitarian value to human beings. This is not to say that animals may not sometimes be valuable to us, or that we may not be right in regarding some animals of special value because of their utility to us, or that sometimes our own human estimation of their value may not coincide with a proper appreciation of their divine worth. It is to reject, however, the view that the ontological worth of other creatures can be determined by the claims of utility.

In particular, it must be questioned whether Christian doctrine can justify a state of affairs whereby any human good (even indisputable human good) has absolute sway over the rights and worth of all other creatures. Humans are not the measure of the worth of all creatures. At the very least the doctrine of creation presupposes divine interests beyond the human sphere. In short: taking this minimal implication seriously means that we have to question the comfortable humanocentricity that dominates our present culture, secular and religious. This is not to deny that humans do indeed have a special place in creation (as I acknowledge later in this article) but it is to reject the legitimacy of a wholly humanocentric view of the worth and meaning of non-human creatures.

(ii) Humans cannot claim absolute sovereignty over animals. We have lived so long with an expanding mandate to rule the world that we often forget that the original commission to have dominion in Genesis is actually a limited and deputising role. Having dominion does not mean that humans own the world, that the world’s creatures are there simply for human pleasing or, most importantly, that humans have absolute rights in creation. Humans are not made gods in creation rather their rule has as its sole legitimacy its conformity with God’s moral will.

Failure to appreciate this insight has meant that humans in many areas of interaction with animals straddle the limits of morally acceptable behaviour. Even in areas where abuse is obvious, it is difficult to think of any instance where humans have made the claim of absolute sovereignty over animals — a claim which is explicit in the notion that animals are patentable creations. It is one thing for humans to utilise animals for what may be justified as morally acceptable ends, it is another to define animals as human inventions.

There can be, and frequently is, a debate among Christians as to how far animals may be used for this or that purpose. Even accepting animals’ non-utilitarian value and the limits of human sovereignty does not rule out in principle a range of possible moral usages. What is does rule out, however, is the notion that humans have the power to define (to ‘name’ in the biblical sense) other creatures without any reference to their standing in the sight of God. The nature of human dominion can never be such as to dissolve the common thread of creatureliness which binds all living things.

(iii) Intervention in created nature must not be illimitable. Allied to the debate about whether and in what ways humans may use animals is the debate about how far humans are justified in changing the nature of created beings including their own. It would not be possible to argue that humans must not interfere with any part of nature as it now is — either animate or inanimate. According to Christian belief, creation is ‘fallen,' in a state of bondage, and therefore from the Creator’s perspective — unfinished. It follows that there is scope for human development of nature — and the notion of dominion in particular — presupposes an active role for humans in the care and management of the planet.

That accepted, such empowerment to ‘better’ creation carries with it some strict limits. In the first place, the empowerment presupposed in Genesis is the power to do good in accordance with God’s will. It is not the commission to do with creation willy-nilly as one wishes. Second, in each and every case it must be shown that such ‘alteration’ of nature is consistent with the designs of the Creator and not simply the pursuance of human avarice and self-advantage.

Here we reach the nub of the matter: Is the created nature of animals ‘bettered’ by genetic engineering? It may be that there is some, albeit limited, case that can be made for such research if it seeks to genuinely enhance the welfare of the individual animals concerned. But in the case of the oncomouse we are dealing not with any bettering of nature either individually or generally but rather with a process that involves the deliberate and artificial creation of disease, suffering and premature death. What is more the purpose of patenting is so to secure the legal rights to this ‘invention’ that the patent holders concerned may uniquely secure any benefits that may flow from it, not least of all commercial gain. If successful, therefore, the granting of a patent would not only legitimise a morally questionable line of research, it would also financially reward those who do so.

While it cannot be claimed that all nature in every instance should be regarded as sacred and inviolable, it is a mistake to suppose that the pursuance of every conceivable human advantage (especially when indirect or hypothetical) justifies each and every intervention in nature. While creation may be disordered, it does not follow that there is a total absence of integrity; maintaining and promoting the good that already exists is an essential task of stewardship. The artificial creation of disease in animals can hardly be claimed to be compatible with the designs of a holy, loving Creator.

(iv) The chief end of creation is not the service of human beings. While Christian tradition has allowed the use of animals within certain moral limits, many theologians nowadays would have extreme difficulty with the idea that the whole point of creation is the satisfaction of human needs and wants. Indeed it can be claimed that the whole point of creation is for us to know that we are not Creator. Traditional doctrine has consistently insisted that animals, like humans, are made not for human service but for God’s glory. This means that however serviceable or pleasing elements of creation may appear to us, we are never justified in claiming the welfare of Homo sapiens as the raison d’être of their existence.

Such a perspective necessarily entails theological reserve and ethical restraint. While we cannot fathom the inner purpose and necessity of much of animal life (let alone appreciate its full complexity), we dare not move to the comfortable conclusion that animals do not participate (in their own way) in the fullness of God’s providential purposes or suppose that they are not fundamentally pleasing to God no matter their practical uselessness to human beings. A basic humility in the face of mystery is required. We are never entitled simply to assume that their theological significance is exhausted in their relationship (if any) to human beings.

If this is true, it also follows that we may not use animals in ways that seek wholly to circumscribe their being as if they had no more status than commodities for sale or consumer durables. It is a categorical mistake to suppose that animals can ever belong to the class of human inventions, no matter how much ingenuity has contributed to their genetic identity.

There are spiritual questions here of some significance which should be pondered by all who have to make decisions in this area: Is it to be believed that the welfare and advantage of the human species is such that it justifies the increasingly ruthless, technologically facilitated, use of power over each and every species of life? Is it credible that the design of the Creator is such that each and every form of life must give way to the inexorable demands of human society for a more pleasing and sophisticated life? Or is it not more likely to be the case that humans have tragically misunderstood the nature of their authority and responsibility in creation — their essential diaconal, serving role — so that they now exercise a power which threatens to obliterate morally all legitimate claims to proper treatment except their own?

(v) The duty of care must eschew the unnecessary infliction of pain. While this may not — strictly speaking — be an implication of creation doctrine, opposition to cruelty has been a long-standing feature of traditional moral theology. Whatever else may be said in favour of patenting the oncomouse, it is difficult to see how it can pass any test of moral necessity. To show that something is necessary we have to show that it is essential, unavoidable or, arguably, that some higher good requires it and could not in any way be obtained without it. To justify patenting, it must be shown not only that (a) some use of animals in experimentation is justifiable in general, but specifically (b) that such experimentation which involves pain and stress is justifiable, and moreover, (c) that this way of experimenting is essential or unavoidable in this particular instance. Most especially, it then has to be shown (d) that patenting this animal in this particular way provides the only or best solution to the problems that are being addressed which cannot be met in any other way.

Condition (b) alone raises acute problems. Even within those sub-traditions of Christendom which have been profoundly unreflective about animal welfare, there is a strong conviction that the infliction of pain can only be justified — if at all — on the most stringent criteria. Animals pose special problems in this regard: they cannot give rational consent to experimental procedures performed upon them; they cannot (strictly speaking) merit any infliction of pain, and moreover they (unlike some human subjects) cannot intellectually comprehend the meaning of the procedures to which they are subjected. These considerations (and others) always tell against the infliction of pain upon innocents whether they be children, or the mentally handicapped, or animals.

In short: the innocence and defencelessness of animals far from being considerations which should push animals away from our field of moral concern are precisely those considerations which should make us exercise special care and enjoin extraordinary scrupulosity. Whatever views may be held generally about the use of animals in scientific research, patenting represents the attempt to perpetuate, to institutionalise, and to commercialise suffering to animals. It seems predicated on the assumption that animal suffering is justifiable no matter how indirect the benefit to humans.

Before concluding, I anticipate three objections.

The first objection is that my argument, if sound, should logically extend to the patenting of all created beings, not just animals but also insects and plants.

My answer is that there may well be arguments against the patenting of other non-sentient beings which deserve consideration. All that is argued here is that there are special reasons for excluding sentient life (construed as a shorthand for self-conscious life capable of experiencing pain) arising from the morally relevant consideration of sentience itself. From a theological perspective no one has expressed this more tellingly that Cardinal Newman in a Good Friday sermon, on the passion and death of Christ, preached at Oxford in 1842:

He [Christ] was as defenceless, and as innocent, as a lamb is. Since, then, Scripture compares him to this inoffensive and unprotected animal, we may without presumption or irreverence take the image as a means of conveying to our minds those feelings which our Lord’s sufferings should excite in us. I mean, consider how very horrible it is to read the accounts which sometimes meet us, of cruelties exercised on brute animals … For what was this but the very cruelty inflicted upon our Lord? … Now what is it that moves our very hearts, and sickens us so much as cruelty to poor brutes? I suppose this first, that they have done no harm; next, that they have no power whatever of resistance; it is the cowardice and tyranny of which they are the victims which makes their sufferings so especially touching … There is something so very dreadful, so satanic in tormenting those who have never harmed us, and who cannot defend themselves, who are utterly in our power, who have weapons neither of offence nor defence, that none but very hardened persons can endure the thought of it … Think then, my brethren, of your feelings at cruelty practised on brute animals, and you will gain one sort of feeling which the history of Christ’s Cross and Passion ought to excite within you.

Not all Christians would accept Newman’s view that the cruelty inflicted on animals is morally identical with that inflicted upon Christ. But it is not difficult to see how sensitivity to undeserved and unmerited suffering arises directly out of reflection upon the suffering of Christ. To alter animals genetically so that they are therefore bound to suffer, or — to say the least — made liable to suffering must constitute an affront to any conscience informed by reflection upon the awfulness of crucifixion.

The second objection is that my argument understates the special place of humans in creation and especially human superiority.

In fact, my argument requires the strongest possible statement of the special place of humans. The God-like power given to us is precisely that: God-given and therefore involving the greatest possible range of responsibility. Now it is true that humans have far too often interpreted this God-given power as itself justification for irresponsibility, and there is, in this regard, an altogether unwholesome history of Christian neglect of creation, animals in particular. But ‘might is right’ has never, at least in principle, been understood as the divine commission to rule creation. What the deputising role of humans in creation requires most urgently is an appreciation of how far this God-given power and responsibility must extend. Christian tradition is justifiably humanocentric in this one regard: humans are responsible for creation. No other species has the capacity or the altruism to execute the divine commission.

To those who argue that human superiority means that we are always morally entitled to make choices in our own interest even and especially at the expense of other creatures, it must be pointed out that lordship expressed in service is the Christian paradigm par excellence. From this perspective human superiority requires — even demands — that the weak, the vulnerable and powerless receive as much, if not greater, consideration. Human superiority is always — properly understood — an argument for an extended sense of responsibility especially directed towards the care and defence of the weak.

The third objection is that the oncomouse is, after all, only a mouse. According to many people, including Christians, a mouse has little value in comparison with a human being.

Proponents of patenting have certainly been clever in choosing a species which apparently commands limited public sympathy. Because mice interact with human environments in ways which are disadvantageous to us, they are frequently classed as a pest species and often killed inhumanely. The limited sympathy this species can invoke is, however, irrelevant to its moral status and therefore to the issue of principle. Mice are intelligent, sentient, warm-blooded creatures. There are no rational grounds on which we can include some sentient species while excluding others from moral consideration.

It is important to remember that the patent for the oncomouse constitutes a test case. The oncorabbit, the oncocow, the oncopig, and the oncochimp will inevitably follow because the application covers all ‘non-human mammals.’ There is no limit to the species or the numbers which may be patented. We shall wake up and find that we have reduced innumerable species of animals to a class of human inventions — tailor-made to laboratory needs and largely, if not wholly, unprotected in law. If successful, the patenting of animals will represent the victory of short-term utilitarianism over the constraints of Christian theology (however unimplemented these may have been in the past). It may be no exaggeration to say that we stand on the brink of a wholly new relationship to other creatures: no longer custodians of our fellow creatures but rather dealers in new commodities.

The institutional and commercial aspects of patenting should not be minimised. Patenting will legitimise genetic engineering by allowing organisations to profit by it. All institutions — especially those spurred on by commercial interests have a self-perpetuating character. Even those originally founded for morally laudable ends have an inbuilt dynamic towards self-justification and self-preservation and, what is more, towards the enlargement of their activities. Once started, such commercial institutions take on a life of their own; they become difficult to control; impossible to stop. Consideration should be given to whether now is the time to inaugurate another potentially unstoppable institution which involves the abuse of animals.

It is sometimes argued that the best way forward amid conflicting interests is to steer a middle course. Such a course might involve seeking to limit through a series of special conditions what may be done to patented animals. But such conditions fail to meet the central offence which patenting itself constitutes, namely the reduction of the status of animals to human inventions. There comes a time when the right thing to do is to draw a line and set moral limits. That time is now.

A revised version of an article that appeared in Crucible (Journal of the Board for Social Responsibility of the Church of England), April-June, 1993, pp. 60-67. Since the article appeared the European Patent Office has, despite strenuous protests, upheld the patenting application for the ‘oncomouse’ and, as predicted, for other species as well.