202 
I have been a certified Drosophila geneticist for 16 years, and for 
the past seven, people in my lab have been involved in finding the chromosome 
locations of T, R, and A genes. Several laboratories using plasmids with 
Drosophila DNA will render our work obsolete within a year, so you can imagine 
the pressure within my group to get in on the action ourselves. Indeed, my 
colleague, Gordon Tenner, in biochemistry, has received a special grant to 
build containment facilities in accordance with the Medical Research Council 
of Canada’s Guidelines. Nevertheless, I have pledged not to allow any recom- 
binant DNA work to be done in my laboratory, nor will my grant or name be 
cited on any papers reporting such work. I say this not because I have any 
fear of accidental escape of a dangerous bug, because I feel there is indeed 
very little evidence to support such a scenario. May I say parenthetically, 
though, I am astounded at the confidence microbiologists feel they have with 
regard to the predicted properties of microorganisms. Surely it is the unex- 
pected in dealing with living organisms that makes experiments worth doing. 
They are not always so predictable. And in view of the 16- to 20-year time- 
lag found between cause and effect, as was the case with DES and cancer, and 
the very small changes that could only be seen with massive numbers as is the 
case with the birth control pill and blood clots, surely it is premature to 
speak of total confidence about the safety of these novel bugs. But that is 
a digression. 
I will not do work with recombinant DNA because at my age science has 
given me more than I ever expected, and I get an enormous vicarious kick 
when I hear about everyone's elegant experiments. So I feel if some of us 
can remain uninvolved personally, we should be less biased in our discussions 
about the long-term implications of DNA research. 
My reasons are very personal, and with your indulgence, I would like to 
tell you about some of them. I was born in Canada of Canadian parents in 
1936. On December 7, 1941, the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. In January 
of 1942 I was sent to a concentration camp for four years for committing the 
crime of having genes that came from Japan three generations ago. General 
DeWitt, the commander in charge of the incarceration of Japanese-Americans , 
indicated the prevalent attitude in his infamous statement, "A Jap is a Jap. 
It doesn't matter where they are born; they are sneaky and can't be trusted." 
Now, that is a statement about genetics, that deceit and treachery are racial- 
ly inherited traits. DeWitt's statement didn't spring out of the blue. It 
was fostered by a social climate made possible in large part by the scientific 
claims made by some of the most eminent biologists and geneticists in the 
early part of the twentieth century. Extrapolating from fur color in guinea 
pigs and egg-laying in chickens, geneticists were concerned for the quality 
of the human gene pool in terms of intelligence, criminality, and poverty. 
Hitler's state-run eugenics program didn't spring full-blown from one 
madman's brain. It was made possible by the contributions of some of the 
finest minds in world science. I don't want to belabor this, but I think as 
the amount of scientific information has exploded since the Second World War, 
and scientists have had to concentrate on an increasingly narrow range of 
topics, we have lost all sense of historical perspective, and of the cultural 
context within which science fits. 
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