HARD SCIENCE, HARD CHOICES:
Facts, Ethics, and Policies Guiding Brain Science Today.
By Sandra J. Ackerman. Dana Press.
152 pp. $12.95

In the relatively near future, brain science may produce all sorts of techno­logical breakthroughs: brain scans that determine whether someone is telling the truth; tests that uncover secret urges or latent tendencies, such as a penchant for violence; pills and other treatments to erase traumatic memories or reduce the misery they cause, as well as treat­ments to strengthen one’s memory skills; and procedures to treat and even cure blindness, quadriplegia, epilepsy, and Parkinson’s disease.

Some of the near-miraculous possibilities raise daunting questions. Should a “truth-detector,” even if it’s flawlessly accurate, be allowed in trials, job interviews, contract negotiations, family therapy? Can we prevent memory pills and the like from creating social divisions between users and nonusers, divisions likely to reflect, at least in part, wealth? Should brain sensors be used in nonmedical settings—such as offices, where they might help people communicate more efficiently with computers? Such are the questions that the nascent field of “neuroethics” aims to address.

In Hard Science, Hard Choices, based on a conference held in May 2005 at the Library of Con­gress, Sandra J. Ackerman reviews the expert opinions on these topics. Sections of the book are devoted to brain scans, brain-computer interfaces, and drugs. Throughout, she stresses two inter­related questions: What can we do? And what should we do?

Many of the technological advances offer the possibility not just of curing the ill but of improving the healthy— of making people, in the oft-heard phrase, better than well. Drugs such as Prozac and Ritalin are already being used in this way, and future medicines and implantable devices will provide more extensive possibilities. The participants are divided about the moral, political, and social challenges. Stanford Law professor Hank Greely, for example, sees no problems with enhancement per se: “I’m a teacher; enhancement is my business.” By contrast, neurologist Anjan Chatterjee describes a disturbing scenario in which a businessman pops amphetamines to master Arabic (research on stroke victims indicates that the drugs may help people learn), while his school-aged son takes Viagra before competing in races (as Ackerman notes, it helps the lungs work more efficiently, “among other effects”). So who’s right? You won’t find conclusive answers here—the field is too new and the science too rapidly changing for that.

Ackerman’s account can be disjointed and superficial. For example, she declares without elaboration that “we can never really know whether anyone else is conscious.” (I don’t know that my wife is conscious?) Such slips may reflect the project’s genesis as a summary of oral presentations, as well as Ackerman’s presumed emphasis on trying—mostly with success—to translate medical jargon into lay terms. Though occasionally frustrating, her book provides a speedy and engaging introduction to the scientific and moral issues, as well as a chance to eavesdrop on the beginnings of a debate that’s likely to continue for decades.