Illustration by Paul Campbell © 2007
Of Bunny Rabbits and Men
by Arthur Sánchez © 2007
"In 1887," Professor Goldberg said as he wrote the pertinent parts of his lecture on the blackboard in large, neat, letters, "E.L. Trudeau, a physician in Saranac Lake, New York, conducted an experiment linking living conditions with the care and treatment of disease. He infected 10 rabbits with tuberculosis. Five were placed in a dark and dank living environment — similar to the conditions faced by people living in overcrowded and unclean slums. The other five were set free on a small and isolated island. Four of the five rabbits in the poor conditions died. Four of the five island rabbits survived. To demonstrate that poor living conditions alone had not killed the infected rabbits, Trudeau placed five uninfected rabbits in the same dark and dank environment. None contracted tuberculosis nor died."
Professor Goldberg turned sharply and his long gray ponytail whipped around with a snap. "Now, can anyone tell me why this is significant?"Joanna Carson, who'd been trying all semester to impress Professor Goldberg, launched her hand into the air. "Ms. Carson," he said with a nod.
Joanna's broad honest face brightened. "Because it dramatically improved the treatment of Tuberculosis patients in the 19th century?"
Professor Goldberg looked at her for a moment from over the rims of his half-moon glasses. His disappointment was obvious. "Wrong,” he said as he put down his chalk. He then turned to address the room. "Students, what class is this?" The rest of the class remained silent, convinced that it was a trick question. Professor Goldberg folded his arms behind his back. "Are we in an entomology class? Hmm? Are we studying methodology?" No one answered. "All right, since no one seems to know, let me remind you. We are in an ethics class. The point of my lecture is to raise your ethical awareness of the things done in the name of science."
Joanna, who had gone red from the rebuff, didn't have enough sense to let it go. "I’m sorry professor but I don’t understand. Why then are you telling us this story? Dr. Trudeau's experiments made a significant contribution to the study of TB. Tens of thousands were saved by the simple realization that environment plays a major role in the treatment of the disease. What’s the ethical question?"
"The ethical question," Professor Goldberg began, "is: Does the ends justify the means? Dr. Trudeau murdered those rabbits. He took ten innocent creatures and infected them with a deadly disease. He then placed them in a controlled environment in order to see which ones died. He advanced our knowledge of the disease but at the cost of innocent lives."
Joanna stared at him. "Professor,” she began cautiously, “they were just rabbits. I’d hardly call that murder."
Professor Goldberg grimaced at her observation. “Just rabbits? Tell me Ms. Carson, does the fact that they’re just rabbits make it all right to experiment on them? Does the fact that they are rodents, with hardly any self-awareness at all, make their suffering less significant than that of a human TB patient? Imagine, if you can, what must it have been like for those animals to be trapped in a cold and wet environment, sick, dying, unable to comprehend what was happening to them? Does their inability to express their terror make that fear any less tragic?"
Joanna now looked around the room for support but her fellow classmates avoided making eye contact. She was on her own. "They’re rabbits," she repeated. "They are a lesser order of life. It's not like they matter."
Professor Goldberg grabbed the edges of the lectern in order to steady himself. His face barely masked his rage. "It's a matter of principle,” he said slowly. “And of perspective. It’s a small step from using furry little bunnies to people we don’t like.”
“But professor,” Joanna tried to interject, “that’s just --”
Professor Goldberg knew where she was going and didn’t bother to let her get there. “In World War II,” he declared forcefully, “Nazi physicians experimented on the prisoners of the concentration camps. In their minds, those victims were lesser beings. In the late 30's Japanese scientists conducted studies in biological warfare on living subjects in China. To them those subjects were lesser beings. During the 18th and 19th centuries, blankets knowingly infected with small pox, were given to Native Americans in order to reduce their numbers. To the government agents conducting these actions those people were lesser beings." Professor Goldberg let go of the lectern and began to pace the small stage at the front of the class.
"And that’s the whole point!” He said as he jabbed the air with a finger. “It's all a matter of perspective. Once you view yourself as better, or more important, than your test subjects you begin to lose perspective. Now, the ends do justify the means. Now, the cost in lives is insignificant if the knowledge gained is great enough.” Professor Goldberg turned and glared at the class. His eyes burned with passion. “But that is a cold comfort to those who had to die in order to advance the cause of science. It is a poor scientist who thinks that the killing and maiming of some is justified if it can benefit others.”
“But professor,” a young man from the other side of the room chimed in, “aren’t those examples more the exceptions rather than the rule? Most reasonable people are going to think twice before crossing the line.”
Professor Goldberg threw up his hands in disgust. “You think so, do you? Well let me let you in on a little secret. Intelligent beings are constantly redrawing the line between what’s reasonable and what’s unreasonable all the time. It comes down to their sense of what’s right and what’s wrong. Things like the Black Plague, Cancer, and AIDS, have all been inflicted upon the innocent because in someone’s mind the benefits outweighed the costs, because it was reasonable. That’s the question I want you to ask yourself every time you are faced with the choice of harming the few in order to benefit the many." He stopped as if to catch his breath and there was a slight murmur among the students as they looked at him with concern.
"Sir?" Joanna ventured with a raised hand. "As far as I know, neither the Black Plaque nor AIDS were the result of biological experiments or acts of war." She gave him an uncertain look. "Were they?"
Professor Goldberg paused for a moment before his shoulders sagged and his face relaxed. "No,” he said with a weak smile, “of course not. Ignore that last part. You must forgive the delusional ramblings of an over-the-hill anarchist. Sometimes I forget myself. You know," he made a comical face at the class, "all those drugs in college." The class laughed with nervous relief.
"Ok," he said, seemingly sane again, "that's all for today. Your reward for putting up with me is that there's no assignment. Have a good weekend." He slammed shut his notebook and turned to erase the blackboard. The students, grateful for the reprieve, stormed the doors.
Joanna was half way down the hall when she realized that she couldn't just walk away. Professor Goldberg was obviously crazy, and had made some pretty wild claims, but she needed better than a passing grade on this course. She'd been the one to set him off in front of the entire class. He might be upset about that and the smart thing to do is to make sure he wouldn't hold it against her. Maybe she could offer to write him a paper. Despite desperately wanting to get to lunch, she turned around and headed back to the lecture hall.
As Joanna approached the mint-green doors to the room, she heard voices. Professor Goldberg was in conference with someone. Peeking through the glass window she could see that it was one of the foreign exchange students who always sat in the back. He was a tall boy with jet-black hair and deep piercing eyes. He was handsome in an exotic way but very quiet. Joanna didn't think she'd heard three words out of him all semester. The boy was standing in front of the stage addressing the professor.
"I found your arguments rather amusing," he said to the aging scholar. Joanna was surprised by his tone. It was condescending and this was a required course. It wasn’t a smart move to tick off the professor. Fail and you’d have to do the whole thing over again.
"Really," Professor Goldberg responded as he arranged his lecture papers. He seemed oblivious to the insulting tone of the young man’s voice. "Why's that?"
"The pain and suffering of a few insignificant animals is hardly a compelling reason to stop research. The benefits from those experiments far outweighed the loss of a half dozen bunny rabbits." The boy smiled but the expression had no humor in it. It was a predator's smile and it caused Joanna to catch her breath.
Professor Goldberg stopped sorting his papers and his hands went still on the lectern. "I rather like bunny rabbits," he said softly. Then he looked into the young man’s eyes. "They’re just cute, furry, animals that cause nobody but a few gardeners any harm. They're just simple creatures who want to be left alone."
The boy stepped up onto the stage to be at eye-level with the professor. It was a violation of the professor’s space. "Such a ridiculous notion is unsuitable for a scientist," he answered.
Professor Goldberg stared at the boy. "Really? And I suppose you think all those who throughout history have used the poor, the defenseless, and the insane for medical research were justified as well?"
The boy cocked his head to one side and his smile broadened. "It was a good use of the material."
Professor Goldberg picked up his briefcase and began putting away his papers. He picked up a large oversized pen and clicked it loudly. "I'm afraid," he said, in a slow and thoughtful manner, "with an attitude like that you may not do well in this course."
The boy laughed. "I think professor, that you and I both know that this class is the least of my worries."
Professor Goldberg paused before backing up and stepping off the stage. He appeared frightened. "I suspected you when you first appeared for class. I'm surprised it took you so long to act."
The boy stepped towards the edge of the stage and in front of the professor. He seemed to tower over the man. "To be honest, we didn't think your research significant enough to stop. And given your bizarre lectures," he said with a laugh, "I'm surprised this institution even allows you to teach."
The professor looked only slightly insulted. "Yes, well, your kind has always thought little of human beings."
The boy nodded his head. "To us, you're just big bunny rabbits. That’s what upsets you isn’t it, professor? You don’t like being a bunny rabbit."
Professor Goldberg’s body stiffened. “What I don’t like is having millions of my kind murdered to satisfy your curiosity.”
The young man spread his hands apologetically. "The knowledge gleaned from our studies has been incalculable. Your world happens to be perfect for studying the spread of disease in a neo-technological environment. It’s fascinating to watch the impact of geographical and geo-political situations upon the handling of pandemic outbreaks. Even the sociological change that results from infecting select groups or races has yielded decades of invaluable data."
Professor Goldberg glared at him. "And the suffering of millions is inconsequential."
"Well," the boy said with a shrug, "it's inconsequential to the rest of the galaxy. Perhaps if you were just a little bit cuter, or a little bit smarter, our kind would be more inclined to preserve you. Let's face it, you're just hairless primates -- not very cuddly and just smart enough to need watching." The boy attempted to step off the stage. As he did so a shimmering wall of air appeared and he was stopped in mid step by it. He bounced back and staggered on his feet slightly stunned.
"It appears that we're smarter than you think," Professor Goldberg observed.
The boy seemed surprised by the turn of events. He circled the stage testing the barrier. It hummed whenever he made contact. It was some sort of cage. "You're not capable of this. Where did you get this technology?" He demanded.
"From you," Professor Goldberg said with pride. "It took us 60 years but we were finally able to make use of the wreck we found in Roswell. We've just been waiting for an opportunity to use it."
The boy stared at the professor. "And now that you have me what do you intend to do? You can't risk revealing my presence to the general population and you can't hold me. Others of my kind will come to free me."
Professor Goldberg stared back. "We don't intend to expose your existence to the general public, nor do we intend to hold you. We’re counting on someone coming for you. No doubt, you've heard of the Human Genome project." The boy didn't bother to answer. As news it wasn't even current. "That project allowed us to not only map our genetic structure but to find some important differences between our two species. Once we had an idea of what separated us, we were able to create some very nice diseases of our own – diseases which cannot infect us but which will be quite fond of you. We intend to send you back to your kind with a few passengers."
The boy folded his arms across his chest but Joanna could tell that he was taken aback. "So much for your precious ethics,” he sneered. “You deride us for our methods but you're more than willing to use them when it suits you. This entire ethics course was just a trap."
"Oh no," Professor Goldberg assured him, "the ethics course is quite real. I insisted that it be added to the curriculum so that our future scientists can understand, and accept, the costs of their actions. I knew that such a course would be too great a temptation for those of you who are among us. Your obvious sense of superiority almost guaranteed that one of you would eventually attend – if only just to laugh at us." The boy reacted to this statement by throwing himself against the barrier. The wall shimmered and warped but it held.
Professor Goldberg shook his head. "You, better than anyone, should know how pointless that is. As for deriding you for your methods, you had a choice. You could have chosen not to see us as inferior creatures whose suffering is less than significant. You crossed the line. We are only defending ourselves.”
The boy glared at him. “Seems the bunny rabbits have teeth.”
Professor Goldberg hung his head. He was not happy with what he was going to do. “Perhaps,” he said in a low voice, “in this less than perfect universe, that’s what makes the difference. Had Trudeau’s rabbits been able to rise up and fight back he might have thought twice about using them. Perhaps losing a few million of your own will cause your kind to reconsider its policy towards us. Regardless, the authorities will be here soon enough and when they arrive we'll see who holds the moral high ground." He reached into his pocket and drew out a cell phone. He began dialing a number.
Joanna backed away from the door and ran from the lecture hall. Aliens have been experimenting on humanity by creating plagues. Humanity is going to strike back by releasing a plague on the aliens. Her mind reeled from the implications. She was going to need time to think about this. One thing was certain though, given all that she'd heard, she now had the makings of one hell of a term paper.
