On Having an Own Child: Reproductive Technologies and the Cultural Construction of Childhood
Issues to do with 'new' reproductive technologies, whether this relates to the most popularly known IVF, or the lesser known variant techniques such as ICSI and pre-natal genetic diagnosis, are regularly in the news headlines. Although the techniques are not, medically speaking, that successful, or the numbers concerned that large (almost 30,000 women underwent IVF, and 10,000 children were born as a result of it, with an average success rate for the technique of around 20% across the board between 2003 and 2004, the latest period for which figures are available from the UK Human Fertilisation and Embryology Authority), there is a fascination with these processes in both the popular and academic presses. Problems of the wrong embryos or eggs being implanted accidentally, or ethical issues around the kinds of genetic testing that should or could be made available have occurred repeatedly in past years. Perhaps the most recent issues to be debated again include the greater availability over the internet of more accurate tests to determine the gender of embryos, and whether or not women should consider pursuing a career first while counting on IVF and related techniques to provide her with a child afterwards at a later age than would normally be (easily) possible. In these debates, many ethical, philosophical, and psychological aspects have been touched on: what is good for the potential parents, for the child concerned, and for the wider society into which these children may be born. Importantly, discussions in the realm of psychology have focussed on the stresses and strains for the potential parents of undergoing the (often physically and mentally intensive) processes of reproductive technologies, and the stresses and strains on the child both in terms of the expectations that may be placed upon it as a 'much wanted' child, and in terms of the problems of selecting for a 'perfect' child, whether in terms of gender or (dis)ability, for instance.
On the other hand, and, to me at least, surprisingly, not much research or debate has focussed on what seems to me to be the central question in relation to the use and development of these reproductive technologies, and this is why people might want to develop or use such techniques at all. The extensive research that has already been devoted to reproductive technologies either departs simply from the assumption that the wanting of children is a natural, biological, instinct (often called an 'urge'), or that it is socially implanted, usually mainly in women, as a crucial aspect of socially defined femininity. There are many questions, however, that these assumptions leave to one side, most particularly questions raised from the perspective of psychoanalysis. Just to begin with, this includes the Freudian understanding of conscious desires as complexly constructed in relation to unconscious processes, and, secondly, the question of where the 'social' comes from in turn, and how it is seen to play a role in the formation of identity.
From this psychoanalytic perspective, my question was why and how people come to define and desire a 'child' specifically as a product of these technologies. The persistent term that emerged across narratives - both popular and academic - about this issue was the idea of an 'own' child, as opposed to an adopted, fostered, or otherwise 'not own' child. What I therefore examine in my book in detail is how this 'ownness' is defined by people involved in these debates, and why it is so much desired. In order to examine this question, I needed to look at how 'ownness' is established and used in a range of contexts: most obviously, nowadays, the 'genetic' is seen to be an 'obvious' idea of 'ownness'. Yet extensive (and to my mind brilliant) prior work by critical anthropologists such as Marilyn Strathern, Sarah Franklin, Helena Ragone, and Charis Cussins Thompson, and by psychoanalytically influenced critical theorists such as Susan Squier, Jacqueline Rose, and Rachel Bowlby, had already indicated that the 'genetic' too is a language about relatedness and ownness, not an innate definition of relatedness and ownness. This analysis, already inherent to a psychoanalytic understanding, was also supported by the practical evidence that the anthropologists garnered about the way participants in reproductive technologies use ideas of the 'genetic': these rarely have much to do even with the scientific ideas of genetics, but relate to colloquial definitions of 'blood' ties, perceptions of physical or character similarities, and ideas about race, ethnicity, and nationality.
With this is mind, the whole idea of the 'own' child became open to examination further in relation to the problems of 'choosing' for 'perfect' children, and also in relation to wider narratives of 'ownness' in terms of identities and communities. Instead of assuming a self-evidence or naturalness about the way certain children are seen to be more desirable than others, I came to follow through on what seem to me to be necessary links between the 'ownness' of the own child, a certain acceptance of popular ideas of genetics or biology, and much wider - and apparently only distantly or indirectly related - ideas about economics, race and politics. Instead, then, of assuming and departing from, a political form of critique of hierarchies of value in my book, I found that I came to read connections between what is desired as the 'own' in a whole range of areas and the specifically 'own' child as an outcome of my question, not as a predicted result. In this sense, I do not seek in my work to criticise reproductive technologies and those who engage with them, but quite the opposite, I hope: rather to offer wider and deeper ways for considering why one might choose to embark (or not) on such a process.
On the other hand, and, to me at least, surprisingly, not much research or debate has focussed on what seems to me to be the central question in relation to the use and development of these reproductive technologies, and this is why people might want to develop or use such techniques at all. The extensive research that has already been devoted to reproductive technologies either departs simply from the assumption that the wanting of children is a natural, biological, instinct (often called an 'urge'), or that it is socially implanted, usually mainly in women, as a crucial aspect of socially defined femininity. There are many questions, however, that these assumptions leave to one side, most particularly questions raised from the perspective of psychoanalysis. Just to begin with, this includes the Freudian understanding of conscious desires as complexly constructed in relation to unconscious processes, and, secondly, the question of where the 'social' comes from in turn, and how it is seen to play a role in the formation of identity.
From this psychoanalytic perspective, my question was why and how people come to define and desire a 'child' specifically as a product of these technologies. The persistent term that emerged across narratives - both popular and academic - about this issue was the idea of an 'own' child, as opposed to an adopted, fostered, or otherwise 'not own' child. What I therefore examine in my book in detail is how this 'ownness' is defined by people involved in these debates, and why it is so much desired. In order to examine this question, I needed to look at how 'ownness' is established and used in a range of contexts: most obviously, nowadays, the 'genetic' is seen to be an 'obvious' idea of 'ownness'. Yet extensive (and to my mind brilliant) prior work by critical anthropologists such as Marilyn Strathern, Sarah Franklin, Helena Ragone, and Charis Cussins Thompson, and by psychoanalytically influenced critical theorists such as Susan Squier, Jacqueline Rose, and Rachel Bowlby, had already indicated that the 'genetic' too is a language about relatedness and ownness, not an innate definition of relatedness and ownness. This analysis, already inherent to a psychoanalytic understanding, was also supported by the practical evidence that the anthropologists garnered about the way participants in reproductive technologies use ideas of the 'genetic': these rarely have much to do even with the scientific ideas of genetics, but relate to colloquial definitions of 'blood' ties, perceptions of physical or character similarities, and ideas about race, ethnicity, and nationality.
With this is mind, the whole idea of the 'own' child became open to examination further in relation to the problems of 'choosing' for 'perfect' children, and also in relation to wider narratives of 'ownness' in terms of identities and communities. Instead of assuming a self-evidence or naturalness about the way certain children are seen to be more desirable than others, I came to follow through on what seem to me to be necessary links between the 'ownness' of the own child, a certain acceptance of popular ideas of genetics or biology, and much wider - and apparently only distantly or indirectly related - ideas about economics, race and politics. Instead, then, of assuming and departing from, a political form of critique of hierarchies of value in my book, I found that I came to read connections between what is desired as the 'own' in a whole range of areas and the specifically 'own' child as an outcome of my question, not as a predicted result. In this sense, I do not seek in my work to criticise reproductive technologies and those who engage with them, but quite the opposite, I hope: rather to offer wider and deeper ways for considering why one might choose to embark (or not) on such a process.