Disruptive Technologies-3: Otism, Down syndrome and Some Ethical Topics

I saw a discussion on the internet.
“Having an abortion because the baby has Down syndrome.”

The comments underneath were, in many ways, ordinary — and yet deeply disturbing.
While deciding over a human life seems frighteningly easy, taking real responsibility and thinking things through when deciding to have a child appears to be much harder.

Abortion is already a highly controversial topic that intersects with human rights, ethics, and social values.

Some of the questions that immediately arise:

1. Deciding who deserves to live or not is an enormous choice. Where does life begin? Is it a conceptual starting point or not? If you are certain a child will live a difficult life, is it ethical to bring them into the world?
2. If the mother is unwilling or unable to endure the physical and psychological challenges of pregnancy, isn’t that her own decision — especially in cases of unwanted or forced pregnancy? Should terminating an existing life be considered murder? If modern medicine could protect the mother’s health, but she refuses medication, what then?
3. Should parents have the right to terminate a pregnancy based on the baby’s sex? How aware are we of the psychological and emotional impact of abortion? What if religious beliefs demand a different choice?
4. How justified is state intervention in such decisions?
5. And the part most relevant to today’s discussion: technology, prenatal genetic modification, and artificial wombs.

We could easily ask dozens more questions. For now, let’s briefly look at technology itself.
What is technically possible today?

From a technical standpoint, gene modification and manipulation of dominant genes are possible (CRISPR). Genetic testing and advances in biotechnology allow us to detect — and in some cases treat — many conditions before birth through gene therapy. Fertilization outside the body and implantation into the womb is already common practice. Conversely, development outside the womb is technically possible. Surrogacy has existed for decades. Selecting a baby’s sex in advance is possible. Embryos can be frozen for later use or donated to other couples. Babies with DNA from three people can be created (by replacing defective mitochondria). Eggs and sperm can be frozen. Sperm injection allows single individuals to have children. Embryo transfer is routine. Even cloning is technically possible.

Another striking example is the attempt to revive extinct species using DNA — such as efforts to recreate the woolly mammoth. Full revival may be impossible, but creating hybrid organisms is already within reach.

Some of these technologies are actively used; others have only been tested successfully on animals. And perhaps that raises another ethical question: how casually we experiment on animals, as if they have no psychological experience at all.

Our “playing god” goes far beyond what we usually admit. The reason we discuss disruptive technologies is not to demonize them, but to increase awareness and consider multiple perspectives.

These technologies are disruptive not because they replace older ones, but because they introduce entirely new solutions — and entirely new problems. They push us toward decisions that can fundamentally reshape life and the future of the world.

On one hand, they help prevent disease and reduce suffering.
On the other, they generate emotional, psychological, cultural, biological, and ethical consequences we may not be able to foresee.

Each of these topics deserves pages of discussion. Here, I want to focus more closely on autism and Down syndrome.

The first question that comes to mind is the reliability of prenatal diagnosis. There is no such thing as 100% certainty. Children diagnosed with risks are sometimes born healthy, while others develop conditions despite no detected risk. In autism diagnosis especially, error rates remain high.

Another question follows naturally: should we also eliminate people who later lose the ability to live a “normal” life due to accidents or unforeseen circumstances?

And then comes the deeper question:
How do we decide what is normal, right, wrong, good, or bad?
How do we know our decisions are correct?

My observation is that what we call “normal” is usually what we are accustomed to seeing. For example, we glorify reckless heroism that disregards human life — until it ends badly, at which point it suddenly feels wrong. Pop stars performing half-naked on stage are considered normal, yet no one dresses that way on the street. Repetition makes exposure feel natural.

Returning to Down syndrome:
What do these individuals contribute to society?

They bring strong emotional bonds. Their honesty, joy, and openness often enable deeper human connections and help create more inclusive communities. They challenge society’s narrow definitions of intelligence and success, highlighting the importance of compassion, emotional intelligence, and empathy. From the perspective of emotional and cognitive diversity, they are an essential part of society.

But what is the cost?
For caregivers, it is a heavy responsibility. For healthcare and education systems, it is demanding. Yet many individuals with Down syndrome contribute positively to society, participate in volunteer programs, and offer fresh perspectives to those around them.

Genetic testing and therapies can reduce the incidence of Down syndrome or improve quality of life through early intervention. Speech and motor skills can be significantly developed.

However, history shows us another pattern: institutionalization and exclusion. Not only for individuals with Down syndrome, but for anyone deemed “different.” Time and again, societies have labeled certain lives as less valuable.

Many of us behave as if these individuals do not exist — or we avoid them out of discomfort. Yet when included in mainstream education and workplaces, they help accelerate acceptance, equality, and understanding. Their presence can dismantle prejudice and build more open societies. In recent years, individuals with Down syndrome have repeatedly demonstrated what they can achieve when given genuine opportunities.

Once we begin using genetic modification to eliminate differences, we risk labeling every deviation as an error — broken, defective, or diseased. This mindset easily extends to race, disability, and identity. History offers horrifying examples. Even phrases like “bad blood” reveal how far such thinking can go.

Let’s now consider autism.

Autistic individuals often stand out in mathematics, art, and music. Their extraordinary attention to detail fuels innovation and creativity, contributing valuable perspectives to collective problem-solving.

Yet challenges exist. Social cues are difficult to interpret, leading to isolation. Sensory sensitivity to light, sound, and patterns can be overwhelming. Repetitive behaviors are often misunderstood. Education and employment require tailored support. Environmental changes can be deeply distressing.

So the question arises:
Should society provide this support — and can it?

The answer lies in acceptance and inclusion. Awareness improves both autistic individuals’ experiences and those of the people around them. With understanding, communication barriers diminish. Given these possibilities, is it truly right to avoid bringing such lives into the world?

History again provides dark precedents: people killed, imprisoned, or excluded for being “defective.” Once born, these acts shock us. But when existence is confirmed in the womb, does that life suddenly matter less?

As technology advances, awareness actually increases. So why don’t we frame this as neurodiversity instead?

If we conducted a poll asking whether people would prefer autism or Down syndrome, I suspect autism would be chosen more often. Perhaps this reflects my engineering background — but also a broader cultural bias that values productivity, technological progress, and measurable output over emotional and cultural development.

We rarely treat emotional or cultural growth as real progress. Nationalism, faith-based prejudice, and tribalism remain dominant. History shows how easily societies erase what feels unfamiliar.

Another major risk is standardization. I have written before about beauty standards and cosmetic pressure. Genetic perfectionism could take this much further. Eugenics — the belief in superior humans — already led to the murder of millions: Jews, Russians, Poles, disabled people, LGBTQ+ individuals, and many others, simply for not being genetically “ideal.”

If we fail to think ethically about genetic technologies today, repeating such tragedies becomes frighteningly plausible.

Potential Negative Outcomes

1. Viewing difference as disease
   Just as aging, baldness, wrinkles, or natural body shapes are increasingly medicalized today, genetic differences could become pathologized. What is natural becomes “fixable,” and what is not fixed becomes abnormal.
2. Genetic class systems
   Just as cosmetic surgery is a privilege of the wealthy, genetic enhancement could deepen inequality. The rich might live longer, stronger, smarter lives, while the poor are deemed “good enough” to serve limited roles.
3. Natural vs. enhanced humans
   Genetic upgrades could resemble software updates. Artificial organs, enhanced senses, neural implants — once normalized, refusing them might seem irrational. Science fiction becomes social pressure.
4. Loss of cultural and ethical diversity
   Progress emerges from difference. Standardization risks turning development into destruction.
5. Children as products
   Selecting traits from a catalog risks reducing children to designed outcomes rather than autonomous humans, weakening emotional bonds and deepening psychological harm.
6. Selective abortion and erosion of rights
   Framing these choices as purely individual rights may normalize broader violations. State involvement could escalate from regulation to coercion.
7. Unknown long-term cultural and psychological effects

History teaches us that transformative technologies carry unforeseen consequences. Atomic discovery brought both nuclear energy and unimaginable destruction. Industrialization reshaped families, labor, mental health, and migration. Climate change, pandemics, and digital life continue to redefine human experience.

Genetic modification will be no different. The good outcomes are often obvious. The destructive ones emerge slowly — and by the time we see them clearly, it may be too late to regulate or reverse course.

Small choices create vast consequences. Reducing complex ethical questions to “there is a cure, so why not use it” is one of the gravest mistakes we can make.

That is why ethics matters.

Note: We won’t stay in this dark place forever. After exploring ethical dilemmas deeply, I plan to look at disruptive technologies that offer ethically positive outcomes.

Upcoming Topics

• Autonomous Weapon Systems
• Artificial Wombs, Motherhood, and Family
• AI in Politics and Data-Driven Decisions
• Technology, Biodiversity, and the Future of Earth
• Disruptive Technologies with Positive Ethical Outcomes