Meddling with Medusa: On Genetic Manipulation, Art and Animals

Abstract

Turning animals into art through genetic manipulation poses many questions for how we think about our relationship with other species. Here, I explore three rather disparate sets of issues. First, I ask to what extent the production of such living “artforms” really is as transgressive as advocates claim. Whether or not it counts as radical in terms of art I cannot say: but it is not at all radical, I argue, in terms of how we think about our human place in the world. On the contrary, producing these animals only reinforces our own sense of our importance. The second theme, I explore, is the extent to which making transgenic organisms for any purposes is radical in terms of complexity. Here, I focus on the idea of complexity as a concept in developmental biology; genetic manipulation may be successful to commercial companies, but it is deeply troubling to many biologists who consider that its deeply entrenched reductionism is enormously problematic. What risks do we run by ignoring nature’s own complexity—and creativity? And—in particular—what risks do we run of damaging or compromising animal welfare? The third theme turns to public perceptions of these new technologies (whether in science or art), and notes the extent of public unease. This unease is not simply a question of public ignorance about the technology, but reflects the enormously rich ways in which we make meanings about animals, and relate to them. These are, I suggest, a far more potent source of creativity than simply moving genes around to make photogenic animals.

Across the clearing to the south comes a rabbit, hopping, listening, pausing to nibble at the grass with its gigantic teeth. It glows in the dusk, a greenish glow filched from the iridocytes of a deep-sea jellyfish in some long-ago experiment. In the half-light the rabbit looks soft and almost translucent, like a piece of Turkish Delight; as if you could suck off its fur like sugar. (Atwood, 2004, p.109–110)