I’ve recently picked up the book Mine! How The Hidden Rules of Ownership Control Our Lives, and it is a fascinating exploration of how we define who owns what and why we believe that to be so. Ownership, the book holds, is a social construct defined by social norms, patterns of behavior, emotional ties, sweat equity, and the resulting governance over these terms by our established legal authorities.
There is a chapter in this book titled “Our Bodies, Not Our Selves.” It is provocative in every sense of the word because it explores the sale of the human body from the depravity of the forced prostitution industry to the empowerment some obtain in doing things like selling locks of hair or their eggs. If a person gets emotional or economic satisfaction from the sale of their physical selves and it is seen as inappropriate, the message is effectively delivered that they don’t have the autonomy over their physical existence to make decisions on how it is used.
The perception of, “I know what’s better for your body than you” is to in a sense, play God by exerting unwanted control over another person. After reflecting on this book, stories and the situations of myself and others, it seems to me that there is still no good definitive answer on how to judge certain behaviors. Context is so important that the judgement should be relegated only to the self and the man upstairs. The authors explain that,
“Self-ownership is the root of all other ownership – it’s the reason you can make claims based on possession, first in time, labor or attachment. In turn, self-ownership has two components, First, it’s the freedom not to be owned by another. Put bluntly, you are not someone’s slave. Second, it’s the power to be an owner on equal terms with everyone else. This combination – being able to own and not be owned – is the prerequisite to human freedom, dignity, and equality, it’s the foundation on which you write the story of your own life.”
On the flip side, surrendering yourself to others who know how to help you heal in the medical field is an effective demonstration of the second point. And in this dynamic with an unequal balance of authority and power, the question that comes to my mind is, “Does the ethics of the behavior depend on how it is used?” If I answer my own question based off what I’ve learned from research, observation, and experientially, the answer is yes.
A former post of mine touches on the psychology of eating disorders and the misplaced locust of control that manifests in the extreme behaviors and habits. A sense of being trapped or enslaved in something without the autonomy to fix it is why emotional pain can manifest as a cutting or self-mutilation habit in certain individuals. If I can’t control my life, why not exercise control in every way possible over myself? On the flip side, if someone is forcing you into something, backlash against them to obtain your freedom is an instinctive and primitive self defense mechanism (although it’s socially undesireable. Therefore acts of self defense is more moderated and not overtly expressed through social conditioning).
It seems very reasonable to me after some mental turning that the complete removal of autonomy could create maladaptive or harmful patterns internally and externally. Depending on the person, it may manifest as self-harm or harm directed at others. Neither is a good thing. They look and manifest very differently, but it seems they both share a root in the perceptions enslavement, the desire to control, and primal instincts. If we talk about ownership from the perspective of picking an apple from your neighbor’s tree that hangs over onto the public sidewalk, we all can agree that it’s possible to remain emotionally neutral and mentally objective. When it comes to bodily resources however, it is taboo and provocative. But when you layer in the objectivity of the medical field, it becomes a little less shameful and simply thought provoking.
The book rationalizes that, “In addition to eggs (human female eggs for sums as large as $20,000), we can sell our hair (up to $3,000, for redheads), blood plasma (up to $5,000 per year with frequent donations), sperm (up to $10,000 for determined donors), breast milk (“pumping for profit” can yield $20,000 per year), and clean urine ($40 per sample, more on the black market). And after death, there’s a gruesome, lucrative, and largely unregulated market in parts of human cadavers. Your body really is becoming a gold mine. Except for the big-ticket items needed for live transplants. Federal law prohibits people from selling spare organs like kidneys, regenerated organs like livers, and partly transplantable organs like lungs and intestines. Looking from head to toe, we face a puzzle: how to explain the mosaic of rules governing which parts of our body we can and cannot sell.”
This idea of buying and selling anything to do with our bodies, organs, hair, or anything else that defines the “self” is seen as profane, shameful, desperate, and degrading. In certain circumstances, it absolutely is. If someone is boxed into selling parts of themselves because of control by another, a lack of economic opportunities, a lack of self-respect, fears it is their only option, or has lost all sense of control or ownership over the encasing they must cart themselves around in every day, they are degraded. The book also discusses the idea of selling kidneys (which is illegal in every country except for Iran), and why it isn’t allowed since you only need one of them to live. Some people derive a sense of empowerment from using their bodily resources in ways that help others or help themselves. This is where we can’t seem to agree on what’s ethical. The authors of Mine! go on to say, “Should we treat those bodily resources as sacred, profane, or somewhere in between? The answers are all over the map. Literally. Today in Montana, you can sell your bone marrow cells, but only up to a maximum of $3,000, while in neighboring Wyoming, the sale is illegal. In some Nevada counties, you can sell sexual services, even your virginity, but in next-door AZ that’s prostitution and a crime. In Illinois, you can rent out your womb to gestate another’s embryo, but not across the border in MI.”
The core of the issue stems from people unintentionally creating self-harm or inflicting harm on others. The restrictions on what kind of harm you can impose on yourselves or others for a profit is regulated because we’ve collectively studied our own human nature and have learned that people aren’t always in a place to understand what’s best for them. It’s probably why we have trusted powers of authority in terms of people and institutions. From my perspective, the answer isn’t in wielding coercive control over others, infringing on their rights and boundaries, or making decisions on their behalf. Rather, the answer could be a degree of interest and empathy in circumstances, guidance toward better opportunities (if any exist), and education to bring them into the wisdom that allows you to see their situation from an angle of expertise and authority. Not to mention, education on the scientific advances that have been made from people donating their bodies to science is an objective interjection into the less savory parts of this topic.
Failing to act is to be complicit in what we’ve already defined as crimes anyhow. To give another autonomy over themselves is to give respect. When we truly respect another person and work for their well-being, we are operating with the Hippocratic oath to first do no harm. When it comes to the morality of “Our Bodies, Not Ourselves,” we may never have a societal agreement on all the intricacies and ways of using or selling physical bodies. But in a life where death is certain, it’s only practical to entertain all aspects of our physical existence, which I believe are our first and most important homes here on earth.
T.H.E Co. 