This book is sure to spark debate among readers. It will also prove to be tough sledding for many biologists and political scientists alike. Political scientists will be challenged by the author's understanding of the language, logic, and findings of genetics and the human genomics (his detailed analysis of techniques of genetic analysis, for instance, will be alien to many political scientists). Biologists will be hard-pressed at times to get a handle on the political side of the book (e.g., throwaway references to “strict scrutiny” may be obscure to biologists not familiar with American constitutional doctrine). Thus, a number of readers may well find it frustrating to launch into this book. The author himself acknowledges this when he says (p. xii): “The study may be hard going for some political scientists. It will also probably be hard going for genomicists. They are as ignorant of political science as political scientists are ignorant of them.”

Nonetheless, because Politics in the Laboratory challenges both domains, it forces biologists and political scientists to examine the linkage of these realms—a central purpose, as Ira Carmen notes, for that specialization within political science sometimes termed “biopolitics.” As a consequence, this book is worthwhile for readers interested in the interface of genomics and politics; those who “tough it out” will be richly rewarded.

Chapter 1 focuses on what the term “constitution” means in the context of this volume for both politics and genomics (including proffering seven different constitutional politics models and applying these to the Recombinant DNA Advisory Committee work [RAC, for short]). Carmen likens constitutions to “rules,” which, quoting James March and Herbert Simon, refer to “the routines, procedures, conventions, roles, strategies, organizational forms, and technologies around which political activity is constructed” (p. 13). Carmen adds the following three elements to elaborate upon the preceding conceptualization; these rules must be fundamental, regularized in application, and legitimate. For some readers, this will be perceived as an idiosyncratic definition; however, this serves as Carmen's starting point.

The second chapter examines some of the individuals involved in the race to identify the components of the human genome, including such major figures as James Watson (of double helix fame), Craig Venter, Bernadine Healy, Reid Adler, and so on. Carmen's personal narrative of the quirky interactions among these figures adds a human dimension to the story; the author serves as an “inside dopester,” and the result is compelling. A key aspect of the human genome project was the creation of an “ELSI” perspective, with modest funding going to the “ethical, legal, and social implications” of genomics. Later, Carmen adds a “P,” for political, to make it ELSPI, arguing that all these perspectives need to be brought to bear in analyzing implications of the technology and its findings.

Chapter 3 explores further the idea of ELSPI as the basis for the constitutional framework for human genomics. Figure 1 on page 73, by the way, summarizes the issues nicely. In terms of more traditional constitutional concepts, the chapter begins with the American judiciary's perspective on reproductive rights, and then segues to the subject of cloning. An important point that can scarcely be overemphasized is Carmen's statement (p. 104) that in the world of cloning and human genomics, one must have a “firm commitment to the marketplace of ideas; and by marketplace I mean the views of all players with bona fide credentials and interests.” In other words, we should not simply refuse to discuss and consider the implications, for instance, of cloning. He forcefully argues against making certain types of knowledge “forbidden,” by refusing to allow open discussion of them.

The fourth chapter explores gene therapy and the prospects for manipulating the human germline, including the possibilities of intergenerational genetic change. There is sensitive discussion of the obvious legal, ethical, and political implications of this line of inquiry. Chapter 5 moves to a higher level of complexity, with a focus on what Carmen refers to as “sociogenomics,” the effort to “home in on the genetic precursors of human social behavior” (p. 201). Here, the author addresses the possibility of understanding human social and political behavior through the knowledge derived from the study of the human genome (and the genomes of other species as well).

In his final chapter, Carmen urges a position in favor of “consilience” (building on Edward O. Wilson's well-known book of the same name), based on the notion of a unity of the sciences. In this instance, it is how our knowledge of the life sciences can enhance our knowledge of humans' social and political behavior. He refers to a growing literature in biopolitics to illustrate the potential of consilience.

This is an ambitious book, as one can tell from the brief summary outlined here. The effort to demonstrate the linkage of knowledge from the areas of biology and political science is a daunting task. Some may be unconvinced by Carmen's use of what he terms a constitutional approach, since it is different than standard views of this matter. Others may be put off by his dismissal of political science as a discipline. The reader will certainly know the positions that the author is taking; he is straightforward and unequivocal in his stances, and some of his outspoken comments will surely not go down well with a proportion of the book's readers.

However, those who persevere and take seriously the contention that the worlds of genomics and politics cannot and should not be kept separate will find many thought-provoking arguments and new ways of looking at human genomic research, as well as the roots of human social and political behavior. In the final analysis, Politics in the Laboratory will reward those who persist and read it all the way through.