sanddollarrelative.jpgHuman ethics, like precepts against cloning and homosexuality, often get thumped by simple observations of nature. When the question that we ask of existence is not “What is good / bad?” but rather “What is happening here?” the answers can sometimes be counter to what we hold as natural. Nature exhibits a much greater range of possibilities than humans normally accept as moral, natural, or even possible. Take cloning for example. Self-cloning is common for plants, protists, bacteria, and fungi. It is also apparently more common among animals than originally thought, including the so-called higher animals where recent accounts of parthenogenesis have come to light (see: Shark Gives ‘Virgin Birth’ , Zoo Celebrates Virgin Birth of Komodo Dragons ). Parthenogenesis is only one form of asexual reproduction. Budding and fragmentation, as featured in the story below, are also possibilities.

I ran across an article today that struck me as very intriguing. It could form the basis of a really cool science fiction story. The elemental truth of this story is, however, not fiction and not out there where scifi normally sets its stage. This is a modest yet amazing story of the Earth-bound sand dollar. As Kenneth Chang relates in A Sand Dollar Riddle, published in NYTimes Science section, the larvae of these beautiful sea animals are able to rapidly clone themselves. That alone is not the amazing part. What makes this story particularly interesting fodder for the imagination is that the baby sand dollars can do this in response to danger! We are not talking about a run of the mill asexual reproduction story. We are talking about cloning as as a defense mechanism. “Uh oh! There is a hungry fish. I better clone myself. At least one of me might survive if I get eaten.” I just find this amazing and think it is a great kernel for a story. Some day we may be cloning ourselves as a reasonable response to terminal illnesses. Would that really be so bad if even the lowly sand dollar can do it? The ethics are not so simple — or, maybe, they really are more simple than we assume they should be.