Friday, April 22, 2011

a moment of silence...

On Wednesday, 20 April, 2 journalists were killed and 2 other injured as they were covering the on-going conflict in Libya. According to BBC News:
Liverpool-born Tim Hetherington, 40, and American Chris Hondros, 41, died on Wednesday while covering the conflict in the besieged city of Misrata. 
Both Mr. Hetherington and Mr. Hondros were highly regarded war photographers. BBC News Picture Editor Phil Coomes writes of Hetherington:
If there is such as thing as truth, then Tim got as close as anyone could.
Another truth teller gone, killed in the line of duty.

But these deaths, the sadness they bring, and the media attention they catch, remind me of a sad reality.

Thursday, April 21, 2011

the value of life?

I came across an article titled "Should my hereditary disability stop me having a baby?" on BBC News. Here are some excerpts:

At the age of 26, Jono is happy with how he looks, but the genetic disorder that affected the way his facial bones developed in the womb has caused him years of anguish.
His condition means he has no cheekbones - so his eyes droop downwards - and he has problems with his hearing, so has a bone-anchored hearing aid.
It has resulted in years of bullying, several operations and numerous hospital visits. It also led his parents to give him up for adoption 36 hours after he was born.
But perhaps the most vital factor for Jono and his long-term girlfriend, 20-year-old Laura Richardson, is that it is also hereditary, so any child Jono fathers naturally has a 50% chance of having Treacher Collins.
[...] 
"I've always dreamed of being a daddy. I crave father and son moments - my adoptive mum was absolutely amazing but I never had a father figure in my life, and that's something I really, really want. I want to do the school run, take my child to dance, gymnastics or football - whatever they want."
But for the couple - and particularly Jono - the thought of having a child naturally opens a minefield of morals, emotions and self-questioning.
"Knowing that there's a good chance of passing your condition on to your child. It scares me and I question whether it's the right thing to do.
"The big debate in my head is how can I knowingly put my own child through potential suffering," he says.


Is it "right" to conceive a child, knowing that you, in all likelihood, will give him or her a hereditary physical, or even mental, defect? Is it "right" to bring a child into this, let's be honest, cruel world, knowing how much harder his or her life will turn out?