Andrew Niccol’s Gattaca explores the ethics and social implications of creating designer babies.
Despite its being set in the future, the message of “desired perfection” is prevalent in our modern
culture. For various reasons, parents-to-be today do have the prerogative to genetically test
embryos in search of the most healthy and likely to thrive. That being said, we are on a slippery
slope toward a sort of eugenics. However, I believe that the concept of “perfection” in this story
is inherently flawed. Anton is presumably perfect because he is absent of any “premature
baldness, myopia, alcoholism and addictive susceptibility, propensity for violence, and obesity”
(40). Conversely, Vincent is said to be genetically inferior due to his weak heart. I would argue
that the idea of perfection in this story is clearly superficial. Anton’s pre-determined traits largely
exclude those that are important for human existence. By this I mean those of the emotional
variety, such as the capacity to love, compassion, empathize, or persevere, just to name a few.
Vincent, on the other hand, possesses these abilities even in spite of his parents’ favoritism
toward Anton. Vincent matures and falls in love with Irene. He also continues his pursuit of
beating Anton during an ocean swim. I found the last line of the story to represent the person that
Vincent, or Jerome, has become. When he says, “I never saved anything for the swim back,” I
felt as though he was telling Anton that his ability to endure went as far as it needed to go
without quitting and turning around (48). Overall, I believe that this story illustrates the ways in
which our social beliefs about what’s perfect and what’s not are very nearsighted.
Andrew M. Niccol’s Gattaca (1997) is a striking social commentary on the current trends of
beauty and perfection in our society. In the opening scene a nurse tries to convince an expecting
mother that she should dispose of her “naturally” conceived child in exchange for a genetically
modified one. “Honey, look around you. The world doesn’t want one like that one.” This is an
extreme form of what is already present around us. A girl can never become a successful model
unless she is at least 5’ 8” and skinny. People commonly fail to realize the natural beauty that
occurs around them; beauty comes in many forms, not just from the tall and thin. This parallels
with a theme in the film. When Vincent and Anton “compete” in their swimming competitions,
even though Anton is more genetically inclined, Vincent eventually surpasses Anton’s inborn
athleticism with his sheer determination and dedicated training. This shows that genetics is not
the only factor in a human being able to achieve his dreams and goals. The commentary in this
film is significant in that it casts a looking glass over the job industry—specifically the
entertainment industries and the pre-established models for success. Almost every major star in
Hollywood has something going for them physiologically. Those that do not are forced to make
up for it with their personality and talent. Clear examples of this that come to mind are Phillip
Seymour Hoffman and Jack Black, neither of which is particularly attractive. Hoffman
compensates with his uncanny acting ability, whereas Black does so with his boisterous
personality and humor. The film sheds light on this idea of genetics vs. internal or derived
success (from hard work).
In George Eliot’s “Silas Marner,” Eliot seeks to explore to what degree biology plays a role in a
parent-child relationship. He does so by developing a miserly character, Silas Marner, who has
become reclusive and largely isolated from society. He withdraws from society and re-orients his
life’s focus toward one object: money, or gold coins more specifically. Unexpectedly on a cold
winter’s night, an orphaned toddler named Eppie arrives at his doorstep and he readily takes her
in as his own. I believe that he does this because prior to his fifteen-year period of solitude, he
did enjoy a full life. I think that the sight of “little curly-haired Eppie” instantly took him back to
happier days (336). After this instant bond formed, he realizes that “unlike the gold which
needed nothing, and must be worshipped in solitude…Eppie was a creature…seeking love and
sunshine…and stirring human kindness in all eyes that locked on her” (335). This line of the
story illustrates how Silas realizes that his gold coins, though inherently valuable, do not bring
fulfillment and happiness in the way that a child can. Furthermore, despite their having no blood
relation, he comes to feel about her the way in which any parent does a child. She becomes a ray
of sunshine in his life through her pure human existence. This is refreshing and rejuvenating for
Silas. It brings him back out into the living, breathing world and redirects his focus. “There was
love between him and the child, and there was love between the child and the world” (336).
Using this syllogism, we can further deduce that there was love between him and the world. We
can conclude that love, whether biological or otherwise, is a powerful force that can transform
even the most withdrawn of people.
In chapter 9 of Philip K. Dick’s Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep, the allusion to Mozart’s
“The Magic Flute” corresponds with the novel’s underlying conflicts. The “magic bells” that are
referred to in the opera can be interpreted, in the context of the novel, as an accurate empathy test
with which to distinguish android from human. The translation of the lines which “always
brought tears to Rick’s eyes” can be translated as such: “If every brave man find such bells, his
enemies would then without difficulty disappear.” So if an accurate test were formulated, Rick’s
enemies would, without difficulty, disappear or be “retired.” Rick even compares himself to
Mozart in the sense that his future may be cut short at any moment, that he is a victim of
uncertainty (98). This is even taken a step further when Rick describes how the name “Mozart”
will eventually vanish, and “we can evade it for a while, as the andys can evade me a finite
stretch longer” (98). This strengthens the fact that it is just a matter of time before Rick identifies
and eliminates his enemies. Another line from the opera holds a certain significance with the
novel’s broader themes: “The truth. That’s what we will say” (98). The line escapes from the lips
of an android playing the role of “Pamina.” The character Rick finds this “a little ironic, the
sentiment her role calls for” (98). This is due to the fact that the android, Luba Luft, is living a lie
greater than many know. With every movement and every facial expression she is merely
mimicking the acts of humanity. Every detail about her, no matter how small, is fabricated. This
emphasizes the blurred lines of humanity in the world of the novel. It is becoming near
impossible to distinguish machine from flesh, a most chilling notion.