A criticism often levelled at cinematic representations of genetics is that they suggest genes can explain everything, even human destiny. In other words, film-makers may, whether consciously or not, be buying into the ideology of genetic determinism. This position rests on a base of simplistic genetics, for example invoking "genes for" a range of complex behaviours, and carries loaded political assumptions. Meanwhile, DNA in popular culture has gained iconic significance, becoming metaphorically the very essence of man. A gene in the movies may therefore represent something very different to a gene as understood by a geneticist.
Nature, nurture and genetic determinism
The nature versus nurture debate can be traced back to the time of Darwin, when organisms started to be regarded as separate from their environment. Organisms had internal natures, upon which the external environment acted. Having built up this dichotomy, the debate about the relative role of genes (nature) and the environment (nurture) in determining characteristics could commence. The scientific consensus has varied over time as to their relative roles. The position known as genetic or biological determinism states that we differ in fundamental abilities because of innate differences, which are biologically inherited through our genes, and that this will inevitably lead to the formation of a hierarchical society. At the other extreme are behaviourists who view environmental effects as paramount, acting upon the blank slate (tabula rasa) that is a newborn infant.
Since the early days of cinema, the interplay between nature and nurture has fascinated film-makers. Films involving identical twins, reared apart or otherwise, and clones have already been noted (Chapter Three). These films have either placed great emphasis on their shared genes or else stressed the unique circumstances of an individual's life since conception. In addition, nature versus nurture has been an important theme in many other films, for example, with narratives involving exceptional or dysfunctional families, orphans, adoption, education, psychotherapy or social conditioning.
In the present day, when the media report new "genes for" this or that characteristic on an almost weekly basis, one could almost be forgiven for feeling that we are essentially a product of our genes, and nothing else. There is no denying the importance of genes, but genetics is more complex than media reports of "genes for" a particular characteristic might suggest. The view of internal genes and external environment acting as independent entities, for instance, no longer fits with the findings of modern genetics. The dichotomy of nature versus nurture is in fact a false dichotomy; it is nature and nurture that is important. All genes necessarily function through complex interactions with environmental factors, both in the womb and in the external world. (1) Meanwhile, genes act via organisms to create the very environments in which they function. The relative roles of genes and environment therefore cannot be resolved, because the effects of heredity and environment are not independent, but interactive. (2) It is meaningless to present nature and nurture as two proportions which add up to 100 per cent, as has frequently been the case for intelligence and other complex human characteristics. Such proportions would, in any case, theoretically vary for every different environment in which such an assessment was made. (3) Those who seek to estimate the heritability of complex characteristics are often using science to promote political agendas, as we shall see shortly. (4)
The gene has been put centre stage in recent popular culture with the help of a series of bestselling books, starting with Richard Dawkins' influential The Selfish Gene (1976). In this book, he popularised research done by William Hamilton and others on the mechanisms by which genes influence the processes of Darwinian evolution. (5) Things that had previously been difficult to fit within the evolutionary scheme, such as certain types of social behaviour in animals, could be explained by mechanisms involving kin selection or sexual selection. With kin selection, for example, the behaviour of one individual toward another could be predicted by calculating the number of genes they had in common. Dawkins further suggested that genes have their own agenda, over and above that of the organism; building organisms as a means of replicating and disseminating the self-same genes. This approach has proved valuable in understanding many of the mechanisms underlying evolution. Today, evolutionary psychologists widely advocate genetic explanations of behaviour. However, other biologists consider that natural selection also acts at higher levels, such as on whole organisms, and that many evolutionary psychologist explanations amount to mere "just so" stories. Different emphasis, therefore, has been placed on the genetic, compared with other levels of explanation, in popular biology books.
A prominent source of confusion has revolved around the word "gene", and whether what is being referred to is a theoretical and abstract construct, or a discrete region of DNA. Metaphors concerning DNA, abundant in the popular science literature, for example, are potentially confused with the definition of a gene as a sequence of bases on a DNA strand. The gene becomes DNA, at the expense of many other factors. Thinking in terms of "genes for" a complex characteristic has caused particular confusion, as a theoretical construct of a gene (involving all aspects of its functioning) is often confused with an individual unit of DNA. Complex characteristics are determined by many such discrete units, distributed around the genome, interacting with numerous environmental and developmental factors. Genes are also regulated by other genes in complex and little understood ways, leading to the emerging view of the genome as a dynamic interacting network, rather than as a collection of unilinear independent units.
What exactly is meant therefore when the media report that a gene has been found for a particular behaviour? Often it means that scientists have merely found a marker gene, or a gene that can be correlated with the incidence of a particular behaviour. The gene occurs at a higher frequency in a group exhibiting a particular behaviour, but it is often not known how the gene affects the particular behaviour, or whether it actually affects it at all. If the gene is subsequently found in groups not exhibiting the characteristic, the findings have to be retracted or re-assessed - as occurred in the cases of "genes for" manic depression, schizophrenia and alcoholism. (6) Unlike the original stories, these retractions are rarely reported in the mainstream media. Sometimes, mechanisms of gene function can be tied to behaviours, through a specific biochemical action, although the media does not appear to differentiate "gene for..." stories on the basis of their scientific plausibility. The role of non-genetic factors rarely feature in media reports. Therefore, the role of DNA is often exaggerated.
As a result of research in 1993, for example, the term "gay gene" gained popular usage. In this study, a particular segment of the X chromosome was believed to be more prevalent in homosexual men. It was widely reported that homosexuality could be attributed to this section of DNA. Eugenically-minded religious extremists even envisaged abortion as a means of decreasing the incidence of the gene. Gay activists debated whether homosexuality was a lifestyle choice or whether it was predestined in the genes, a variant of the nature versus nurture debate. However, more recent studies have invalidated the simplistic notion that one gene could explain sexual preference. Although geneticists have succeeded in identifying genes that play some role in influencing human behaviour, they have been much less successful in shedding light on the complexities of human personality. (7)
All human behaviour has a genetic component. The importance of genes in determining human characteristics, however, can be acknowledged without saying that our lives are genetically predestined. The extreme genetic determinist position suggests that environment does not play a significant role in modifying gene function. It also implies that humans lack a degree of free will to overcome certain genetic predispositions. (8) However, it is susceptibility to disease that is inherited, not the disease itself. In reality, alcoholics can give up drink, gamblers can give up gambling, and those with a high risk of heart attack can modify their diet. Therapies in general have shown that human behaviour can be modified to an often surprising degree. (9) Except in acute cases, such as for certain lethal genetic diseases, genes do not necessarily foretell our future. We all have a genetic potential, but the right environment is necessary for us to reach our full potential; while appropriate environmental factors can help us overcome a wide range of genetic defects.
The dichotomy of nature and nurture has become discredited, but the notion still confounds our understanding of genetics. The debate's assumptions persist in popular culture, particularly in cinema. To convey the complexity of genetics is difficult in a two-hour movie. To simplify the situation using easily grasped notions of society against biology may therefore be very inviting. Extremes of genetic or environmental determinism therefore are often presented. Many commentators believe that today's emphasis on genetic explanations is reflected in the cinema. Characters in movies tend to be archetypes or stereotypes, with innate abilities and weaknesses that are often seen to be biologically inherited and fixed. Having characters inherit traits from their parents makes for a simple and effective story, but all to often inherited is read as unchangeable. In reality, the more we believe that genes control our destiny, the truer it may become. If we believe it enough it may become a self-fulfilling prophecy.
History teaches that discrimination on the basis of our genes leads to social injustice or much worse. Genetic determinism would lead us to believe that our place in the social hierarchy is determined by our genetic inheritance. This engenders a sense of fatalism, born of a conviction that one cannot rise above one's (genetic) station in life. Film-makers and audiences would be wise to remain aware of the wider implications of fictional characters having natural born characteristics.
Natural born killers
The commonest genetic predisposition in cinema concerns characters who are born to be murderers, criminals or other irredeemably anti-social types. Scientists have long sought the genetic basis for violence and criminality. In the 1960s, for example, a study suggested that the proportion of men having XYY chromosomes, as opposed to the usual XY, was disproportionately higher in prisons. This led to the theory that men with XYY chromosomes were more likely to commit violent criminal acts. (10) This theory was popular during the 1970s, was briefly taken seriously by politicians, but is now discredited. Ninety-six per cent of XXY men lead perfectly normal lives, in fact, far from penal institutions. XYY was just another "mismeasure of man", to quote Stephen J. Gould's phrase. (11) However, the XYY myth entered popular culture, with a number of films during the 1970s giving the XYY chromosome story as to why a character was a born criminal. XYY criminals occurred in movies as recently as 1992, in Alien3 , in which a remote planet acts as a penal colony for XYY males, "All thieves, murderers and rapists". As a result of their genetics, rehabilitation is not considered to be an option. In a scene early in the film, just after a fatalistic discussion about the taint of XYY, a spiral staircase looms ominously in the background. However, cinema does reflect a more likely gene for criminality - the Y chromosome itself. Most natural born killers are men.
In addition to comparing criminals with non-criminals (and ignoring social factors affecting who is put into prison), the notion that a gene for violent criminality exists has in part come from twin studies. For instance, it is claimed that if one identical twin has a criminal record then the other has a 50 per cent increased chance of being imprisoned, compared to a 20 per cent chance for a non-identical twin. Twin studies in the past have suggested that criminality is 60-70 per cent explained by the genes, although what this really means is far from certain. (12) The concept of criminality is broad, covering a diverse range of behaviours, yet geneticists have sought to explain it by one genetic variable. One of the studies most often cited in support of a gene for violence concerns a Dutch family whose members over three generations displayed violent behaviour. However, the aggressive behaviour displayed was diverse, and included arson, rape, murder, domestic violence and bouts of temper. The emphasis on genetic determinism that comes across from many of these studies gives the impression that certain people are predestined to commit crime, irrespective of their environment. However, even if a simple gene for aggression exists, it is likely to manifest itself in different ways in different environments. It might produce assertiveness in a favourable culture, with the result that someone becomes a successful entrepreneur, for example, but lead to violent outbursts, frustration and criminal behaviour under conditions of poverty. Social factors also loom large in defining aggression, as the same behaviour in soldiers and civilians is viewed very differently. (13) The downplaying of the role of environmental factors, such as education and poverty, has influenced the perception of criminality in popular culture.
We commonly see people who are born to kill in the cinema and on TV. The title of Oliver Stone's Natural Born Killers (1994) speaks for itself, while the popular serial killer movie invariably features a murderer who is irredeemably evil. Genes for violence are metaphorically implied in Mary Shelley's Frankenstein (1994) and numerous human body-part movies, where the transplant of a killer's hand, skin, eye, or other appendage or organ renders the recipient homicidal. In The Island of Dr. Moreau (1996) the "very essence of the devil" resides in the genes, and Moreau attempts to excise it using genetic engineering. In an episode (Sense and Antisense, 1997) of the TV series Millennium, information from the Human Genome Project is abused when experiments are done to tamper with genes "that control violence". Dorothy Nelkin and Susan Lindee described, in their book The DNA Mystique, a particularly extreme example of a "gene for murder", from a US TV-film called Tainted Blood (1990). (14) In this film a reporter (Raquel Welch) investigates the story of a boy who kills his family and then himself. She finds out that the boy has been adopted, and that his real mother had killed her own parents and then herself. The boy has a twin sister, and the search is on to find her, before her "gene for violence" causes the death of her adopted family. The girl has already murdered the parents of her best friend, but hesitates to commit violence against the family that has lovingly nurtured her. Nature and nurture conflict within her, but her "gene for violence" wins out. She kills herself, however, before finishing off her adopted family. The reporter writes a book pleading that the girl was not responsible for her actions, but was a victim of genetic disease. Nelkin and Lindee see such films as typical of a general move towards a genetic determinist worldview during the 1990s. In reality, the defence of "my genes made me do it" is starting to appear in US criminal courts. (15)
If genes for criminality can be postulated, what about genes for law enforcement? This is a premise central to Judge Dredd (1995). In Mega City One, law and order are dispensed by Judges, who have autonomous powers to arrest, judge and sentence citizens. Judge Dredd (Sylvester Stallone) is a respected veteran of the profession. A high-profile journalist, who has criticised the Judges' power, is found murdered, however, and DNA that matches Dredd's genetic profile is found on the weapon. Dredd is exiled to the wastelands. There he learns that he is not a natural-born human, but the result of the Janus Project, a genetic engineering experiment, using the genes of prominent law enforcers from the past, to create the perfect Judge. He further learns that his clone/brother Rico (Armande Assante), his evil twin and a psychotic ex-Judge, is fomenting social chaos. Rico plans to destroy the original Judges and replace them with clones from the newly re-opened Janus Project. It was Rico's DNA on the murder weapon that framed Dredd. Our hero breaks back into the city and arrives at the Janus lab, just as Rico is starting to clone the new Judges. Dredd destroys the lab in true Luddite fashion and Rico is killed. In common with other comic book characters, such as Batman, the heroes and villains can at times be indistinguishable, suggesting common genes for law enforcement and criminality. Dredd and Rico are clones with identical genetic codes, yet, in the terms of Mega City One's world, we are to regard one as good and the other evil. The simple notion that cloning ("unnatural birth") is bad and natural-birth is good takes centre stage; at the expense of the potentially more interesting theme of the nature of evil. In movies featuring comic book vigilantes, such as Judge Dredd and Batman (1989), the neo-fascist elements are usually toned down. In Judge Dredd, for example, the vigilante uncharacteristically takes off his helmet, becomes a recognisable person, and even has a love interest. (16) Therefore, the political implications of these films' genetic deterministic assumptions are not satisfactorily pursued.
Whether genetically identical clones could turn out differently is a theme in The Boys from Brazil (1978), in which Dr. Josef Mengele succeeds in cloning Hitler. He takes great care to ensure that the family backgrounds in which the cloned boys grow up closely matches that of Hitler himself. The whole plot of the film revolves around this environmental consideration, as the 94 fathers are murdered to a strict timetable to recreate Hitler's own boyhood experience. At the conclusion of the film, the Nazi-hunter burns the names of the boys who have been cloned from Hitler's DNA, rather than have them all die at the hands of an extremist Jewish group. (17) The film's assumptions are therefore based on environmental determinism, rather than genetic determinism. The attempt to re-create Hitler's environment in the film is flawed and naïve, not least because no attempt is made to mimic the unique social conditions present in Germany prior to WWII. The film was made toward the end of a period when the perceived nurture side of the supposed nature versus nurture equation was relatively strong. Therefore, the boys are shown to have transcended their inheritance or, as Daniel Dervin puts it:
"When the moment of truth arrives and the outwardly Nazi-stamped boys are found,
the wholesome middle-class environments prove stronger than the genetic programming". (18)
Films from the 1950s to the 1970s often assumed that improved environmental conditions often improved people. Many French and British New wave films of the late 1950s and early 1960s explored how society shapes personality. For example, in François Truffaut's Les Quatre Cents Coups (1959), the young protagonist turns to petty crime in response to his environment and not due to any innate criminality. (19) Similarly, the realist British films of the same period (e.g. Violent Playground, 1958) implicate social problems as the cause of juvenile delinquency and criminality, while implying that improving the social conditions (housing and education) could alter people's behaviour for the better. Freudian repression, due to a traumatic childhood incident or sexual inhibition, explains mental instability in many Hollywood films, for example, Alfred Hitchcock's Marnie (1964), to which psychoanalysis is the answer; whereas today genetic factors and drugs would be more realistically invoked. This emphasis on environment was partly a reaction against eugenics after WWII, but it also suited the political and social mood of the times. However, from the late 1970s the rise of socio-biology, and then molecular biology, has swung the emphasis back towards genetic explanations of behaviour.
A number of exceptions to a perceived trend towards genetic determinism can, of course, be cited. Forcible reconditioning of persistent offenders is the theme of Stanley Kubrick's A Clockwork Orange (1971), not whether it could be successful, but whether it's moral; while in the same director's later film Full Metal Jacket (1987) it is still environmental conditioning (and not genes) that turns ordinary men into killers. Environmental determinism is evident in films involving education and intelligence, for example, where one exceptional teacher makes all the difference to a group of underprivileged children, as in Dangerous Minds (1994). In contrast to this are films in which a child genius is portrayed, who appears to have little need for formal education, for example, Little Man Tate (1991) and Good Will Hunting (1997). Meanwhile, in Woody Allen's Mighty Aphrodite (1995) an adopted boy's intelligence is assumed to be due to nurture when the middle-class father discovers that the biological mother is a heart-of-gold, but not so bright, porn actress and prostitute; although the patronising view of the lower classes tends to introduce confusing assumptions indicative of a deeper level of unintentional genetic determinism.
Nevertheless, the nature side of the perceived nature versus nurture dichotomy is today generally thought to be stronger in film representations. Audiences in the 1990s would, for instance, probably find the emphasis on environment in The Boys from Brazil more problematic than audiences in the 1970s. They would be more likely to think that one of the boys would become another Hitler, because they have his genes. In the 1990s, Hitler would be a natural born killer.
Political science
The stressing of genetic determinism is often closely tied to a political agenda. It serves to relocate social problems from society onto the individual, while biochemical or penal solutions are sought rather than programs to alleviate social problems such as poverty or poor education. (20) The genetics of intelligence and race is a particularly controversial area. This genetic determinist agenda has been around for some time, but was recently reiterated by Richard J. Herrnstein and Charles Murray in their book The Bell Curve (1994). (21) They presented data, which they claimed showed that Caucasians were inherently more intelligence than other races. Their work rested on contentious IQ tests, as a measure of intelligence. The IQ test reduces the complex notion of intelligence to a single number, however, while considering this mathematical abstraction to be something real, in the genes, unchangeable, and useful for ranking individuals. Average IQ obtained within groups (e.g. whites) was used to compare between groups (e.g. whites and blacks), going against what many consider as good statistical practice. Meanwhile, IQ has frequently been accused of having a cultural bias. (22)
The concept of genetic criminality is also tied closely with race in the USA. African Americans are imprisoned at a rate ten times higher than whites. If environment is unimportant, then by extension this implies that blacks have a greater genetic disposition to commit crime. The hidden message of books like The Bell Curve is that the underclass is poor because they are genetically inferior, not because their environment is deprived. Therefore, spending money on compensatory education programs and social improvements will not help the underclass better itself. This is social fatalism on a grand scale. Yet, Herrnstein and Murray propose public policy on the basis of a heredity figure for intelligence of around 60 per cent (in line with other studies that put it anywhere between 30 and 70 per cent). To have a genuine case for saying that class structure is encoded by genes, however, they should find IQ and other human characteristics to be 80 to 100 per cent "explained" by genetics. In response to claims that intelligence and criminality are adequately explained by genetic factors, Richard Lewontin has noted,
"What we had previously imagined to be messy moral, political and economic issues
turn out, after all, to be simply a matter of an occasional nucleotide substitution". (23)
Film-makers often casually accept the assumptions of genetic determinism in explaining character motivation, but too rarely question the political baggage that they are taking on board.
Genes are now big business. Private companies, such as Celera in the USA, are patenting human gene sequences, ahead of publicly-funded mapping efforts, in the race to sequence the entire human genome. They stand to make enormous profits. The commercial exploitation of human genetics is explored in Gattaca (1997), in which patented gene sequences are modified to prevent genetic disease and to enhance other traits. Medical insurance, meanwhile, is unavailable to those with the "wrong" genetic profiles. The premise of Gattaca is built on assumptions about genes determining personality and destiny. Vincent tells us early in the film that when he was only seconds old, "The exact time and cause of my death was already known". A genetic profile, done just after his birth, gives him an over 90 per cent chance of dying from heart failure and a predicted life expectancy of 30.2 years. Genes must determine complex characteristics in Gattaca if they are to be commercially useful. Their modification is seen to be comparable to treating cystic fibrosis or other single gene defects, so that the ethical issues surrounding the commercial exploitation of human genes can be clearly presented.
A simplistic picture of genetics is therefore presented in Gattaca, with complex characteristics portrayed as if a single gene controls them. The early eugenicists believed that single genes controlled characteristics such as intelligence, but we now know this is not the case. The major flaw in the representation of genetics in Gattaca is therefore that genes are seen to be too predictive. Genes are not predictive - they provide probabilities not certainties - and they work under the influence of complex and unpredictable environmental factors. Even when the Human Genome Project is completed, and we have the complete coding sequence of 30 billion bases that comprise the 100,000-odd genes in our genetic code, we will still have little knowledge of how genes affect human characteristics. We will know the genotype, but not how it produces the phenotype. Genes make proteins, one gene codes for one protein, so to say that a gene is "for" a complex behavioural trait is a gross over-simplification. Even many relatively simple genetic diseases are under the influence of a range of different genes. For example, over twenty genes, on several different chromosomes, predispose individuals to diabetes.
The tag line for Gattaca's promotion stated,
"There is no gene for the human spirit".
This is certainly true, but neither is there strictly a gene for intelligence, aggression, shyness or any other complex human characteristic alluded to in the film. However, even given the simplistic representation of genetics, the film's vision of the future might turn out to be essentially true. Even a slight influence or correlation of a gene to a behaviour might lead parents to want to modify that gene, if the technology was available, to give their child what they perceive as an edge in life. If this becomes common, children without such genetic modifications may become disadvantaged by discrimination. The commercialised health industry of the near-future may well overstate the case for genetic enhancement. Meanwhile, the people with the wealth to manipulate genes would also have the resources to provide a favourable environment to maximise a child's genetic potential, thus masking the fact that gene modification may only be of minimal value. A genetic basis, popularly reported as a "gene for", has been claimed for intelligence, physical performance, addictive behaviour, risk-taking ("the bad luck gene"), criminal tendencies, violence, musical ability, dyslexia, baldness, deafness, manic depression, schizophrenia ("the schizophrenia gene"), alcoholism, susceptibility to cancer ("the cancer gene"), overeating and obesity, resistance to exercise ("the lazy gene"), female intuition, sexual promiscuity ("the randy gene") and sexual orientation ("the gay gene"). (24) A number of these "genes for" claims have not stood up to closer scrutiny, but all have entered the popular consciousness to a greater or lesser extent. The "gene for" the human spirit, being a characteristic not that much vaguer than criminality or intelligence, might indeed be reported before too long. Whether parents should legitimately modify such genes is the important ethical dilemma around which Gattaca revolves.
It may be almost inevitable, by the nature of movies, that the messy realities of genetics are simplified to "it's all in the genes" scenarios. In order to present a coherent story, a clear-cut deterministic view of genetics is more likely to be presented. Scientists have worried whether this sends the message to audiences that human characteristics are indeed all in the genes. In a sense, film-makers are in a no-win situation. In Gattaca, for example, the hard-line genetic determinist position enables the issues surrounding genetic enhancement to be more effectively addressed, but by adopting strong determinist assumptions the film was open to criticism. David King, the editor of GenEthics News, suggested that whatever the film's merits in raising ethical questions for the audience's consideration, its reinforcement of genetic determinism could do considerable harm. (25) Kevin Davies, writing in Nature, thought that the film could leave audiences with the erroneous impression that DNA and destiny were in reality that closely intertwined. (26)
Along with its assumptions about genetic determinism, however, Gattaca shows a case that appears to invalidate such assumptions. Vincent does not buy into the pervading genetic determinism and states that, "There is no gene for fate". Vincent transcends his supposed genetic station in life, with the help of his ill-fated mentor Jerome. This carries less symbolic weight that it might, however, because Vincent is never identified as being typical of the genetic have-nots in society. The film side-steps the real political issues, and blunts the criticism of its genetic determinist assumptions, by avoiding the depiction of a realistic flipside to its Valid society. Nevertheless, the hero is typically proactive, making key decisions on the basis of conscience and not pre-programming. This both drives the story and brings about the hero's personal growth and development. (27) This action through free will, often occurring at a film's climax, usually runs counter to deterministic assumptions in film narratives. By ignoring this aspect of story structure some commentators have overstated the case for films reinforcing the general climate of genetic determinism in society. These commentators also often ignore films that present assumptions based on environmental determinism, for example, those featuring social conditioning or the successful education of backward children. While anything with the prefix genetic has become tainted by the prevailing social commentary, the prefix environmental tends to retain a surprising integrity.
A cultural icon
In popular culture, the gene has become synonymous with DNA, as noted above, but it has also been imbued with almost mythic powers. DNA and the gene are now prominent in many aspects of the culture, but as abstract concepts representing far more than their biological roles as a molecule of replication and as a unit of hereditary, respectively. In their book The DNA Mystique, Nelkin and Lindee surveyed representations of DNA in popular culture, and put the case for regarding DNA as a cultural icon. (28)
The iconic DNA molecule therefore has symbolic value independent of its biological meaning. It has become a metaphor to define who we are. DNA has variously been the key to understanding our identity and individuality, the source of social differences, and the complexities of human relationships. It has even taken on the function of the human soul. (29) This representation, as the soul or essence of individual human beings, is referred to as genetic essentialism. When DNA takes on the role of the soul, the location of the essence or true self, then genetic engineering can be regarded as interfering in God's domain. Lee Silver identifies this as another case where life at the cellular level is confused with life at a higher level in the popular imagination. Human life and the mind emerge at a higher level, far removed from change at the molecular level. (30) Genetic essentialism is invoked in the movies whenever human DNA stands symbolically for an individual or humanity in general. This essence of humanity is used to differentiate humans from the android or alien doppelgängers who would contaminate our pure human DNA with their foreign or engineered DNA. When human DNA is hybridised with non-human DNA, the result is the loss of a human soul.
The frequent use of computer code analogies for DNA in popular culture also contributes to notions of determinism and essentialism. The reduction of genes to computer code is, for example, prevalent in books by Richard Dawkins. In The Blind Watchmaker, for instance, he writes about tree seeds blowing outside his window,
"It's raining programs, it's raining tree-growing, fluff-spreading algorithms.
That is not a metaphor, it is the plain truth.
It couldn't be plainer if it were raining floppy discs". (31)
If DNA is considered as a program, with the genes being modules of code, then the idea of genes controlling human destiny is re-enforced. Movies featuring androids and artificial life, in particular, have played upon metaphors of DNA as information, to help bridge the man-machine gap. Furthermore, the use of terminology from the information sciences shifts the emphasis from mutation and variability in the genetic code, to that of error or '"bugs" in the code, reinforcing notions of genetic perfection and eugenic intolerance of coding "mistakes". (32)
The identification of the impostor or other is increasingly done as a result of DNA testing, usually on a sample of (sacred) blood. The criminal has likewise been fingered. The development of DNA fingerprinting in the mid-1980s has been reflected in science fiction movies, although less so in crime and courtroom dramas set in the present day. This is possibly due to controversy surrounding the early use of DNA profiling in criminal cases and to screenwriters not wanting to slow down narratives, based on broad principles, with "difficult" forensic detail. (33) In Gattaca, frequent DNA profiling ensures the genetic hierarchy is maintained. The genes define the person in this film, although a thriving black market exists for false identities. A blood test differentiates humans from their doubles in The Thing (1982), while alien DNA and blood cells are frequently abnormal, as noted previously.
It is difficult to think of a more ubiquitous slice of popular culture than The Star Wars phenomenon. With the 1990s prequels, cloning has become central to the narrative - although it was only afforded a brief mention previously (in a distant time before Dolly). The Jedi Knights can be distinguished from regular humans, as revealed in Star Wars: Episode I - The Phantom Menace (1999), by analysing their blood. The blood of young Anakin Skywalker (Jake Lloyd) is examined by the Jedi master Qui-Gon Jinn (Liam Neeson) and his apprentice Obi-Wan Konobi (Ewan McGregor). Anakin's blood cells are found to have an exceptionally high midi-chlorian count. These fictitious microscopic life forms live symbiotically in cells, and aid in channelling the mystical force. The "force runs strong" in Anakin, while the wise Qui-Gon Jinn insists that "nothing is an accident". Anakin is predestined for greatness of some kind. Midi-chlorians are essentially genes for the force, which determine whether one will become either a Jedi or else a dark shadow of one. In particular, they evoke mitochondrian genes, as mitochondria once lived symbiotically in human cells. Mitochondria are a cell's energy-producing "power plant", in which a positive mutation could lead to an individual having greater strength and stamina. Mitochondrial genes are also now known to control many critical stages in human development. (34)
It is the presence of midi-chlorians that enables the Empire to clone proto-Jedi in Star Wars: Episode 2 - The Clone Wars. By taking cells from a captive, such as Anakin's mother Shmi Skywalker (Pernilla August), known to have midi-chlorians in her cells, the Dark Lords can clone humans having midi-chlorians in their cells, who are potential recruits to the Dark Side. Good and evil are therefore again closely related, as in Judge Dredd and other movie scenarios, in a delicate balancing act dependent on free will and not genetics. An inability to control his genetic inheritance will tip Anakin into following the dark side of the force, unlike his son Luke who will become a true Jedi. Luke becomes a hero, rather than a dark shadow, when he realises that evil resides in himself. In The Empire Strikes Back (1980) the enemy he kills during his apprenticeship turns out to be himself. Evil is something he has inherited, it is inside him and therefore he can conquer it. Heroes and villains are genetically identical when they are doubles, so that by accepting one's true nature and confronting the shadow (the clone, the evil twin, the double, or any other "other") the hero can triumph. (35)
This linking of identity and genetics now pervades popular culture. The mythic genes of popular culture, however, may now be influencing the perception of real genes. The essentialist genes of movie narratives are infused with cultural meanings that have nothing to do with biological definitions of the gene. The genetic essentialism of recent movies is closely in tune with the climate of genetic determinism, as it erases complexity and ambiguity, and helps to define human destiny in terms that downplay the role of social and environmental influences.
The constant emphasis on the power of genes in popular culture, and the relative irrelevance of environment, could potentially lead to fatalism. If people believe they are solely the products of their genes, then they will accept their inheritance without question. Many people now believe that there is something special about their genes, that they somehow contain a person's very essence. (36) This emphasis on the iconic gene, as a source of a person's spiritual core and identity, is one area where movies may have detrimentally influenced the public's understanding of genetics. The confusion between metaphor and reality, or between genes as units of heredity and as abstract notions involving symbolic and mythic aspects, is one perpetuated by film-makers. An awareness of which DNA is being represented would be enlightening to all concerned. Film criticism could also be more aware of how genes are represented in movies, with respect to the social and political implications of both genetic and environmental determinism.
Notes
Chapter 8: Representing Real-Life Science.
References:Complete bibliography of book, including all names on multi-author publications and details of edited books.
Chapter 1: It came from the laboratory.
Chapter 2: Dinosaur Resurrection.
Chapter 3: Confronting the Clone.
Chapter 4: Cloning the Alien.
Chapter 5: Danger: Genetically Modified Organisms.
Chapter 6: Designer Babies.
Chapter 7: All in the Genes?
Chapter 8: Real-life Science.