In 1980 the first recombinant genetic engineering experiments on humans were performed. These experiments sparked a major controversy, international in scope and potentially profound in its implications for genetic science. We develop four perspectives—substantive, network, organizational, and societal—from which science can be seen as a process having differing social implication and meaning. The research and controversy are discussed with attention to the conflicts and their resolutions from each perspective and among them. Taken together, the four perspectives are used as a single basis for understanding the social processes involved in this case study and the more general workings of science.

An evolutionary perspective, which is currently enjoying a revival in the social sciences, raises the possibility of a major transformation in the study of political development and modernization. It may be desirable to supplement (and in some instances replace) the concept of “political development” with the concept of “political evolution.” Political development may be likened to the biological process of ontogeny. It involves the construction of a viable set of political qua cybernetic processes and structures at any level of social organization, from wolf packs to human families to empires. Political evolution is an aspect of phylogeny. It involves the invention, elaboration, and diffusion of novel political forms of all kinds, only some of which may be more effective, or inclusive, or democratic, etc. Nor are all evolutionary changes necessarily “better” (i.e., more adaptive). Political development is concerned with problems of social engineering, while political evolution is concerned with architectonics—with the emergence of functionally significant political innovations. Political development is always situation-specific, while political evolution is also historical and may include changes that diffuse and become “species-wide.” Political evolution is thus a dimension of the larger process of biological evolution. The emergence of political systems, which long predates the evolution of humankind, constitutes a set of adaptive strategies with significant evolutionary consequences. Political development and political evolution may go hand in hand, but this is not always the case. A particular polity may develop or decay independently of the larger process of political evolution. Among the many theoretical implications of this conceptual reformulation, we briefly address the impact on functionalist theory, modernization theory, social mobilization theory, political economy (positive theory), world systems theory, dependency theory, and contemporary Marxist views.

The plea of Corning and Hines to replace the concept of political development with that of political evolution addresses the conceptual obfuscation engendered by the plethora of definitions that pervade the literature on development. In a cogently argued paper they review the mainstream literature and briefly refer to alternative perspectives now wellentrenched in the mainstream of social science. They recast these perspectives through synthesis of abstract ideas and set forth the parameters in which a theory of political evolution might be utilized. Their push for interdisciplinary inquiry attempts to undermine ethnocentric and value-laden notions of political science. All these advances, however, merit critical assessment.

Though not the first attempt to ameliorate a human genetic disease by modifying somatic cells, the experiments performed by Dr. Martin J. Cline on two women suffering from thalassemia (one in Jerusalem, the other in Naples) were the first and still the only ones to use rDNA techniques.1 In some respects the criticism and censure of Cline by the NIH resembles the case of Dr. Ian T. Kennedy.2 Both Cline and Kennedy were found guilty of having violated the NIH Guidelines for Research Involving Recombinant DNA Molecules, but there is a crucial difference between the two cases. Cline attempted to implant genetically altered cells into human beings. Consequently, his work involved moral issues concerning the use of human subjects in biomedical experiments which go beyond the usual concerns over safety and control in rDNA research. In fact, I shall argue that the rDNA aspect of the Cline affair was relatively minor compared with the moral reasoning which guided the actions and judgments of Cline and his critics. Despite its importance for understanding the behavior of the participants, this ethical dimension does not receive adequate emphasis in Robin and Markle's account of the Cline episode within the framework of their four sociological perspectives (substantive, network, organizational, societal).

Corning and Hines' assertions at the beginning of their article are correct. The political development literature is in “disarray.” There is dissensus on definitions and measures. The term ‘political evolution’ is seldom used in any technical or precise sense. Political scientists are mostly “unaware of the burgeoning literature… on the causal dynamics underlying the evolution of society in general and of politics and the state in particular,” and their “knowledge of pre-modern politics” does tend to be “sketchy.” The time is “ripe” (as always?) for “fresh approaches.” The introduction or reintroduction of “an evolutionary perspective” could be, depending on how it is defined, a “radical departure” from dominant frames of reference in political science.

Robin and Markle's “Let No One Split Asunder: Controversy in Human Genetic Engineering” is a notable contribution to the sociology of science and a clarification of some important social and political issues in the current controversy around the new recombinant DNA technologies. Their four-fold taxonomy of levels of inquiry and analysis is a theoretical advance. It is also a device for illuminating, decoding, deciphering, and finally for bettering our understanding of what happened structurally in the Cline case. Much of the contemporary work in the sociology of science touches on a few, or even several of these dimensions, but because the analytic categories are frequently (if inadvertently) run together, one is often burdened with a confusing vault between levels. (Few authors make the analytic distinctions of different levels as do Robin and Markle, so it is hardly surprising that they would “run them together.”)

Professors Stanley Robin and Gerald Markle ably describe the sociological factors at work in Dr. Martin Cline's foray into gene therapy during the mid-1970s. Much of what transpired can be understood in terms of the dialectical tensions between clinicians and researchers. But there is a second tier of questions raised by Cline's conduct, questions which transcend the issues of simple improprieties and possible illegalities of his actions.

Corning and Hines make a useful contribution to the study of politics by distinguishing sharply between “political development” and “political evolution.” Their emphasis on the multidisciplinary dimensions of real life changes as they occur (and have occurred) throughout the world is also needed. We must, assuredly, go beyond political science, both to the other social sciences (including economics) and also, notably, to the life sciences.

Robin and Markle nicely illuminate the highly-publicized Cline case by examining it in turn from the substantive, network, organizational, and societal perspectives. They never explain, however, why this particular case was so highly publicized, in contrast to other instances of questionable ethics in biomedical research that never reached public attention. Without some explanation for the notoriety given to Cline's actions, their four perspectives seem seriously incomplete.

Although I will respond to each commentator separately, some of my responses will be applicable more generally.

One of the expectations of science, from both substantive and network perspectives, is its cumulative nature. It is a strong hope that scientific research and analysis promote an extension of knowledge as a function of critique and as a stimulus for extension. We are pleased that the comments of Curd, Duster, Lappé, and Mazur help us (and, we hope, others) better understand and appreciate our case study.

Let me begin by saying that I do appreciate several of the commentators' observations and I shall respond to those below. Before doing so, however, I must add that there are a number of suggestions in the commentaries that seem to me useful only to the extent they reveal the failure of the commentators to read our article carefully, to do a little homework, to grasp some of the points we were making, or all three. I am mindful of the fact that all three commentators are recognized scholars in the more traditional field of comparative politics who may have had little or no contact with the literature of politics and the life sciences. Nor should I assume they would have any familiarity with the substantial literature in anthropology, archaeology, history, and social biology dealing with the evolution of social systems and the origins of the state upon which we have drawn and which has become so familiar to Corning and me that we are sometimes forgetful of the need to provide more examples and references, depending upon the reading audience.

Modern Darwinian biology seems to promote nihilism, for it seems to teach that there is no rationally discoverable standard in nature for giving meaning to life. The purpose of this article is to argue for a revival of Aristotle's biological teleology as a reasonable alternative to biological nihilism. The article begins with Edward Wilson's vain struggle against nihilism. Then it is argued that a teleological understanding of nature is assumed in the practice of medicine, as illustrated by one case from Oliver Sacks' neurological practice. The article then considers the importance of biological teleology for Aristotle's moral and political philosophy, and attention is given to some points of agreement and disagreement with contemporary sociobiologists. The main part of the article is then devoted to a defense of Aristotle's biology against the five objections that might be made by a Darwinian biologist. Finally, the article illustrates the practical implications of this issue for bioethics by considering the recent work of Engelhardt.

Definitions being critical to systematic analysis, aggression is here defined as intentional injury to person or damage to property. The issue of consciousness of intent is considered. No claim is made that either conscious or unconscious aggression is necessarily wrongful, but that it is elicited with respect to the frustration of a variety of organically based physical and mental needs. Physiology has made progress toward understanding the two-way interaction between vertebrates and their environment, so that we have good hunches that aggressive behavior varies as a function of the level of several endocrines and of electrical charge in several parts of the brain. Suggestions are made for improving the utility of some basic political theory to physiological research and vice versa, so that social science can move beyond the speculations of the 18th century philosophers and can use some very relevant physiological findings.

In a time of nihilism, power determines political purpose-the power of a passion or of a pressure group. The American political community is suffering from nihilism. It is manifest in the erosion of our moral tradition and in the reduction of our political system to a weakly umpired struggle of interest groups for control of public policy. More frequently than not, policy represents simply the lowest common denominator of group demands, a compromise among the passions. The incipient erosion of civil liberties in the face of the long-term decay of the tradition signals the approach of the master passion.

The mystical title of this commentary on Professor Davies' provocative and timely key article is intended to emphasize my belief that many of the problems of attempting to relate biology to ‘aggression’ stem from deliberate or inadvertent reification. ‘Aggression’ is clearly a ‘concept’ and not an ‘entity’ and, as such, it is difficult to perceive the very diverse activities receiving this label as having a common physiology. Concepts are adopted (or eventually rejected) on the basis of usefulness not correctness. This is not to deny that any useful reference to aggression must concern animals, i.e., creatures with physiologies. Most individuals in their dispassionate moments would not regard the sea or a volcano as being aggressive and would certainly fail to apply this attribute to dry-rot fungus.

Writing as someone outside the field of political science, but very much involved in studies of behavior-physiology interactions, James Davies' article seems to me to be compelling in its argument for a reorientation of much of political science to include biology. As Davies points out, there is clear and convincing evidence that different physiological states are associated with different probabilities of aggression. Moreover, he cited only a part of the available evidence. At this time, data strongly support two of his points: multiple factors (e.g., genetic, developmental) contribute to the long-run probability of aggression; and different levels of neurotransmitters and hormones contribute to the short-run probability of aggression. All higher animal forms (and lower forms insofar as is known) are capable of aggression, however, within-animal frequency and type of aggression differ. Thus, what factors alter the probability of aggression under different circumstances becomes a question of great interest. It is this issue that Davies addresses. Yet, he may not have gone far enough in his effort to alert readers about the importance of understanding physiological processes as an essential requisite for understanding aggression in particular and behavior in general.

Arnhart's timely and provocative article attempts to resolve the value crisis of the modern biological and sociobiological sciences by reconciling these sciences with Aristotle's biological teleology. The idea that modern biology, like modern science in general, will engender a value crisis is hardly new. By engaging in ostensibly objective, quantitative, valuefree inquiry into the character of human and nonhuman organic life, scientific biology strips these forms of life of their traditional values. Biological science itself has failed to generate a new set of qualitative values to replace the discredited notions of myth, religion, and philosophy. This value nihilism has become particularly ominous in the contemporary period as military, ecological, and biomedical developments undermine our traditional assumptions about the character of organic life-and indeed may threaten the existence of that organic life. Perhaps it is an inevitable twist in the history of ideas that Aristotle's biological teleology, the bete noire of modern biological science, should be offered as a possible source for a new biological value system. Arnhart contends that Aristotle's biological teleology-i.e., the notion that species have their own ends and purposes-is both compatible with the most up-to-date biological research and can serve as a source for qualitative biological values. By adopting a teleological perspective, the ends and purposes of species not only describe essential elements of these species, but also prescribe an inherent, biological foundation for value judgments about them.

There is a reasonable urgency today about clarifying the relationship between biology and human affairs. A growing genetic technology is an obvious reason for concern. But behind that is the real crisis, at once ethical and educational. The “moral” teachings that descend from the new scho~ls of biology - of which sociobiology may be considered representative - are easy deductions from rigid reductionist theories, requiring no inquiry about the limits of theory, and thus ready for popular consumption. Arnhart clearly recognizes the philosophical dimensions of our situation in his article “Aristotle's Biopolitics”. His suggestion that we begin our rethinking of bioethics with serious study of one of the greatest biologists and ethical thinkers seems to me a timely one. Modern scientific methods engender ceaseless advances and ceaseless controversies, but they ‘appear impotent to give us, as Aristotle did, a reasonable view of our own species’ place and purpose.

Although the target article, which attempts to clarify how physiological knowledge may resolve and guide research into aggressive behavior at a political level, raises many important issues, and in particular, draws attention to several specific areas where analyses of physiology and social behavior may be fruitfully pursued, it fails, in my view, to provide a suitable framework for such an endeavor for two reasons: one, a truncated definition of aggression, and two, a confounding of levels of analysis. After examining these two problems, I will end this commentary by highlighting and expanding upon one of those issues raised by Davies which may provide a valuable source of research.