"I think they can be a benefit," he said carefully, when properly used."
"But you see nothing ethically wrong in psychochemicals per se?"
"No," he said. "If drugs can be used to alleviate physical pain and treat human disease, I see no reason why they shouldn't be used to ease mental pain and psychic disorders. If a drug was developed to cure or control schizophrenia, for instance, how could one possibly object to it."
"I suppose you're right," I said doubtfully. "But drugs that alter behavior and personality make me a little uneasy. It's like playing God, isn't it?"
"So is prescribing aspirin," he said.
"I'm not doing a very good job of explaining what I mean," I said.
"What about things like marijuana, LSD, heroin, and cocaine. They affect mood, behavior, personality. Would you defend them?"
"Of course not. They can be psychologically or physiologically addictive and do a great deal of harm. But psychochemicals that benefit the subject, that enable him or her to function as a normal human being, are certainly defensible."
I looked at him. "What is a normal human being?" I asked.
"Please define."
He gave me a half-smile, but he didn't answer.
It was not a smartass question on my part because, to be perfectly frank, I was beginning to doubt my own normality. I had been acting very strangely.
Usually when I make up my mind to do something, I do it. I had chided Greg for being indecisive, and now I found myself behaving just as irresolutely. I told Herman I intended to consult an attorney about a divorce. At the time I said it, I meant it. But I was postponing that final act, finding all kinds of reasons to put it off.
I tried to analyze myself, to understand why I was dithering.
The answer, which came as more of a shock to me than perhaps it does to you, was that I loved the man.
He was everything I've said he was, a boot, a drunk, a philanderer.
But love, I sadly concluded, is not a rational emotion. Even recognizing Herman's faults and excesses could not kill what I felt for him. I was at once astonished and ashamed of myself, and even wondered if my intense caring for him was not an aftereffect of my inhalation of aerosolized oxytocin.
I went back to my laboratory with renewed determination to succeed.
What had been a vague idea now became a definite plan that might, just might, provide a solution to my personal problems.
If I could develop a hormone-based fragrance that increased tender affection, it seemed possible that I could alter Herman's behavior in a way that would benefit our family. At that point in my research I couldn't even guess if the effects of such a psychoactive perfume would be temporary or lasting. That was a question that could only be answered after the scent was created.
But I was so excited by the prospect that I simply rejected all those qualms that had made me ask Greg Barrow about the ethicality of behavior-altering drugs. it seemed to me that Cuddle, if perfected, could, have no ill effects on the user or on persons who smelled the fragrance.
I had now developed a few ounces of a perfume that contained a minuscule amount of the aerosolized oxytocin. I then used an alcohol solution as a diluter and put the mixture into a spray bottle that resembled an atomizer. I applied the scent to the inside of my left wrist and sniffed cautiously.
All I could recognize were the floral essences that served as a carrier for the hormone. There was no aroma of mauve, and I was aware of no changes in my mood or behavior. So I strengthened the formulation in stages, gradually increasing the proportion of the oxytocin and decreasing the volume of the alcohol diluter.
It was while these time-consuming experiments were proceeding that I had another conversation with Greg Barrow about psychochemicals. We were heading home one evening (I was doing the driving that week) when he suddenly said, "You may be right."
I was startled. "About what, Greg?"
"About psychoactive drugs. You said that anything designed to alter behavior and personality made you uneasy. You said it was like playing God."
"Well, I've changed my mind about that," I told him. "If psychochemicals can be a benefit and don't have any bad side effects, I see no reason why they shouldn't be developed and prescribed."
"You seem to have overcome your doubts," he said, "but you have stirred up mine. Let me give you a hypothetical case. What would you think of a psychoactive drug designed to make the user behave in a manner that is generally considered to be antisocial?"
"I would be against that," I said. "Definitely."
"Even if it was intended for limited and strictly controlled use? Even if the end result could be shown to have, say, a patriotic benefit?"
"Greg, you're not working on a poison gas, are you? "
"Of course not."
"Well, your hypothetical case sounds like it. If a psychoactive drug results in the user flaunting the norms of society, then it's wrong.
It's unethical and immoral to develop it and prescribe it. Patriotism is no excuse. Humanity comes first."
He sighed. "I wish it was as simple as you make it out to be, but it isn't. There is no absolute good' and no absolute bad." There are infinite gradations. For instance, suppose a psychoactive drug was developed that would cause the user to renounce all personal ambition and desire for worldly gain. One pill or injection would induce him to become a Jesus-like personality, give all his wealth to the poor, and spend his days in meditation and seeking spiritual salvation. Would such a drug be a benefit or a curse? To the individual using it and to humanity?"
I considered that a long time. "It's a tough one," I said finally.
"Probably a benefit to humanity and a curse to the subjects. But I really don't know. It's a philosophical question, isn't it?"
"Ethical," he said. "It's an ethical problem to the research chemist developing the drug. But it illustrates what I said about the difficulty of choice. We just can't be sure, can we? What troubles me most is using a drug to make the subject into a person he or she is not by nature. in other words, changing personality to conform to one's own standards, or one's employer's standards, or one's nation's standardswhich may or may not be to the subject's benefit."
I knew what Greg meant, but his scruples didn't deter me. I was resolved to alter the personality of my husband. I might succeed in making him into a person he was not by nature. But it was the man he ought to be.
The death and funeral of Marvin Mcwhortle Tcaused a slippage of three days in my detailed schedule for the ZAP Project, and early in August an additional day's work was lost when I received an unexpected visit from Colonel Henry Knacker. He demanded a progress report in the development of what he insisted on referring to as a "diet enrichment."
He sat in my private laboratory and viewed all the videotapes I had made. The colonel was favorably impressed with the results.
"Looks good to me, boy," he said when the final tape ended.
"You figure you've got a handle on the sex angle-correct? "
"Yes, sir," I said. "The most recent formulation resulted in increased physical aggression with normal or lessened sexual drive."
"Lessened?" he said sharply. "Not totally, I hope. We don't want to make eunuchs out of our fighting men, do we, son?" , "No, sir," I said. "I don't believe there is any danger of that. The last two tapes you viewed, taken at twenty-four hours and forty-eight hours after the initial injection, show quite clearly that the increased aggression and decreased sexuality are temporary phenomena."
"Any side effects?"
"I've observed none so far, " I told him. "Of course, it's always possible a delayed reaction to the hormone may turn up later, but I have no evidence of that' "Good-oh," hesaid, rubbinghispalms togetherwith satisfaction. "Now what's next on your program?"
"I have two objectives, sir," I said, "and failure to achieve them might possibly threaten the success of the entire project."