Hermoine's Writing Book of Everything

[hermoine]

This is a sort of collection of all that I've written so far. I haven't been writing for long, so you won't find much work. But, an essay or two might erupt, and be sure to find a couple of poems.

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(I'll be updating this soon, don't worry. I'd just like to start writing from the next post. Hope that's ok.)

[hermoine]

This is a poem I wrote last Saturday, in memory of the victims of the 11th September attack. I haven't given it a name yet, might eventually. I'm terrible at inventing names. Tell me what you think of it.


I saw you fly,
in a million-jewelled sky,
after a hasty goodbye,
because you couldn’t lie,
so today I cry,
for you are gone away from thee.

Without pretence,
you told me hence,
you loved a girl who wasn’t me.

I understood,
you knew I would,
so I let you free.

Thus on a clean and warm September,
you left me here, just to remember,
my love for yours and yours for me.

I thought I should check on the news,
to hear of any serious blues.
and then I saw,
what the whole world saw,
that you were no more there for me.

I saw IT fly there in the sky,
I saw IT hit before my eye,
with no such chance as a goodbye.

And so I cried.
you should have lied,
and you would still be here, young, carefree.
and yet you chose to tell the truth,
about the girl whose name was Ruth,
who cried just by your mother’s side
when she heard that you had died,
on that clean and warm September.
You were to wed in wet November!

And though three silent years went by,
I still remember the million-jewelled sky,
as I saw you fly,
after a hasty goodbye,
so today I cry, for you are gone.

(The above being a mother’s silent cries after her son died when the plane he was on, crashed into the Twin Towers. 11th September, 2001.)

[claretta "happy and not"]

Very well done hermoine!! You're very good at writing poems!!

[hermoine]

Awww, gee thanks. It really means a lot to me to receive feedback.

[hermoine]

So recently, I have been taking part in an HP fanfiction competition, and now that it's over and all that, I decided to put my entries up here. The stuff in italics is the mission for each submission.


This is on behalf of Sockless_Person, a.k.a. Dumbledore.

The mission stated thus:

Mission Choice #2: Animagi Challenge

Describe a day (or part of it) in the life of any one of the characters we know to be animagi, as they would experience it in their animal form. Your submission should be at least 500 words.

Watch out for that beetle!

She clung on to the window-ledge, regardless of the tormenting gales and slashing rain beating down upon her, vowing to crush her. Her persistence was one, which not many possessed. Someone had carelessly left the window open, and she would have never missed such a chance to return in that same spotlight she had once embraced. This was her chance. She scuttled a bit closer to the warm indoors.

Fudge sat in his chair, deep shadows under his eyes, and a look as if many years had passed over him suddenly. He seemed even too weary to be sitting there.

Rita pricked her antlers as the door of the Minister’s office opened. What she heard was highly interesting to her. ‘So Fudge fears Dumbledore will take his place?’ she asked, silent to all ears, as the Ministry official walked out of the room. ‘I can already see the title! “Ratty-dore as Minister?” Now I wonder if-’

But a sudden gust of wind came beating unexpectedly upon her, and she found herself being flown into Fudge’s office. The Minister for Magic was for too deep in thought to note a black beetle zooming around unsuspended, trying to make its way as close to him as possible like a very eager fan. She settled on a velvet coloured book, which said, Death Omens: What to Do When You Know the Worst Is Coming in gold lettering.

‘Fudge has started believing in death omens now? Interesting. This will keep the Ministry busy,’ she thought, satisfied. Rita saw Fudge get up, trudge over to a small cabinet and produce a half-empty bottle of Ogden’s Old Firewhisky.

‘Fudge is drinking?’ she said, her eyes bulging slightly. ‘I wish Bozo were here. He’d be able to get a great picture of the monkey-fool drinking his place as Minister goodbye. That would do the front page of the Prophet! Yes, “Drunk Minister Considers”.

A shade of red bustled into the room. It was Percy Weasley with a stack of papers, which seemed too heavy for his arms to lift. “I have the papers Sir,” he said pompously, placing the pile neatly in the centre of Fudge’s office desk, which Rita missed by mere inches. “More owls are coming in about the demen-”

He stopped abruptly, seeing the Minister’s face getting even paler. Silence reigned for a while, which through the long year she had been a Daily Prophet reporter, Rita had learned to obey. “And I have sent Dolores Umbridge the flowers you requested,” he added hastily.

‘Dolores Umbridge?!’ Rita thought, her insides wanting to scream with excitement. ‘The woman who was said to have turned Hogwarts into a battlefield and has now become a freak herself? I simply must go pay her a visit. I’m sure she’d be very happy to allow me an interview!’

Fudge had resumed drinking his whisky in a slow and hesitant manner, and so Rita turned her attention to Percy, obviously noting that the Minister was losing his famed attention from others.

‘He’s Arthur Weasley’s son,’ she said to herself, as Percy, seeing that he was no longer needed, left the office to get back to his work. ‘He’d surely feel ignored if I didn’t go check on him,’ she thought.

She scuttled to the edge of the desk and peered down. Certainly not! She’d be dead before she hit the floor if she jumped, and then who could produce such an amazing article? Getting down would be a difficult process. Ah, but she was the famed Rita Skeeter and could always find the proper solution to achieving a scoop.

Seeing that Fudge had his back turned to her, she donned her wings and flew her way to the safe ground and left the office. Avoiding the feet of busy Ministry workers, she scuttled close to the elevator. She got on when the golden grille slid back, as if it were a very common thing for a black beetle to use this means of transport. If the sole Ministry worker in the elevator with her, had taken his eyes from his copy of the Daily Prophet and looked down, he would have noticed the comical touch to the scene he had found himself in. He was a stooped, timid-looking old wizard, with fluffy white hair.

The cool female voice finally announced, “Level Two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Wizengamot Administration Services.” Coincidentally, it also happened to be the man in the elevator’s destination too.

She scuttled along, trying hard not to make it seem too obvious that she was no ordinary beetle. Dodging feet was a more difficult process than before. Once, she was nearly hit by a flying memo, which seemed to be finding it rather hard to steer its way correctly due to its excessive weight.

‘Turn this corner, then that,’ she said to herself. ‘Arthur Weasley will be so pleased to see me!’ She passed through a door, which bore a tarnished plaque reading, Misuse of Muggle Artifacts. Instantly, a violent jet of purple sparks came down to greet her. This journey was turning out to be far too perilous than she had imagined.

Arthur Weasley was standing behind his desk with a rusty kettle in front of him, which had a pus green liquid frothing out of it, as it occasionally emitted purple sparks.

“Good morning Arthur,” said the man from the elevator as he walked inside, sitting at the only other desk.

“Good morning Perkins,” Arthur Weasley replied politely. Despite the false and harsh rumours concerning it, the Weasley family was quite known for being a kind, honourable, and hospitable wizarding family.

Perkins was now looking at the kettle on his partner’s desk. “Is it bad?”

“Well not much. But it has already caused some minor problems,” he explained, shooting a glance at one of his posters on the wall, which used to show a dismantled engine. Now, one could admire the burnt remains of the spot where a jet of sparks had left its marks. “It’s nothing I can’t handle,” Arthur said as an afterthought. “It also has a wire attached to it for ekeltricity, see?” he said excitedly pointing at it.

Rita started looking around, disappointed at how boring this office could prove to be, in her opinion. Looking out of the door, she saw a flaming strawberry-red chunk of hair pass by. Its colour was so violent that it seemed to be radiating heat, and making everything else around it seem pale. Deciding it would probably be far more interesting, she set off after the blood-red-headed figure.

“He actually said that Tonks?” she heard a young woman ask the redhead.

“Yes he did. I thought he was joking,” Tonks replied truthfully.

‘Nymphadora Tonks,’ Rita pondered. She could vaguely remember a woman by that name. ‘Yes she’s an Auror,’ she said at last, remembering.

The two women approached a large fireplace, which had a pot sitting on the mantelpiece.

“Why don’t we just apparate?” the woman asked.

“No. I want to see how the green flames look with the colour of my hair,” Tonks said grinning, as she took some powder from the pot, spilling some in the process.

“All you need now is a red dress,” said the other, giggling.

“Yes, but I need to go to Madam Malkin’s anyway,” Tonks said, stepping right into the fireplace.

Realising that they were probably going to Diagon Alley, Rita flew into the fireplace with Tonks. She couldn’t apparate without transforming in her human form again; it wasn’t worth revealing her secret, so the Floo Network was the only way.

Tonks cried, “Diagon Alley!” and they were both engulfed in green flames. Rita felt her head spin slightly, although she had done this many times before.

She came out at the other end to be met with the dazzling sunlight shining on the busy and packed streets of Diagon Alley. She decided to maintain her animagus form for a while longer, and started making her way through the crowd of people laden with their shopping. She turned a corner to be met with the complete opposite of the alley she had just left. A mouldy wooden sign announced her entrance in Knockturn Alley. She transformed into her human form and walked briskly down the street, talking to herself.

“I need to buy some new Quick Quotes Quills. That silly Muggle-born girl won’t be able to stop me from publishing this time,” she said, grinning in a sly manner. “I need to find Bozo,” she continued. “I’m sure he’ll be very glad to see me again.”

She continued walking, thinking of things she could write about Fudge. For that was Rita Skeeter. She would go to any means, in her sly and cunning manner, to achieve the report blinded people would read. Yet, she could never learn the secret admirations and true ambitions a person deeply believes in, like an obsolete dingbat’s desire for new socks.

[hermoine]

This is another submission of mine, also for Round Two.

This is on behalf of Veritaserum_Boy, a.k.a. Snape. I really enjoyed writing for him!

Mission Choice #4: The Quibbler Challenge

The Quibbler has a blaring headline that has all of Hogwarts murmuring as soon as the owl post arrives during breakfast. What is the headline? Write at least two paragraphs of the reported story, and then have two or more characters of your choice discuss it. Your submission should be at least 500 words.



Beyond Expectations

The usual peaceful streets of Hogsmeade were filled with the blabber of Hogwarts students, thinking that it is a free-school day while forgetting the amount of homework they had been purposefully given. The Three Broomsticks was as crowded as usual, as students went to and fro with mugs in their hands, excited for no reason at all. They often seem to act that way, like when they meet the famous Harry Potter.

Among the throng, the famous trio couldn’t have been forgotten. Miss Granger got up bossily from their table and went to the bar to get drinks for them all. There she found herself face to face with none other than Miss Lovegood, clutching a copy of the magazine The Quibbler in her hands. It is ridiculous to think that a girl, who is supposed to have enough wit to be in Ravenclaw, should read such a ludicrous magazine. Clumsy Longbottom sat beside her, beaming, perhaps thinking that Miss Granger would help him in some essay again.

“Hermione! You should really read this!” he said excitedly, waving at her, showering butterbeer all over his robes.

Miss Granger sidled next to him, looking over his shoulder as he read the article in a quivering manner, clutching his own copy of the magazine.

“Weird Sisters or Just Weird?
Are they more than they seem?

Among the most talented voices broadcasted on the Wide Wizarding Network (WWN), the musical group, The Weird Sisters is one of the most popular. Its eight members are widely known, and their songs are said to be as unique as their style. Recently the group translated their latest song, “Poison-bound” into Troll. In answer to The Quibbler’s inquiries, the group’s lead singer Myron Wagtail stated that they wished that every person and creature be allowed to enjoy their music.

BUT DO THEY?

It is known that Trolls are an ignorant type of creature, with no interest in music whatsoever. So what is The Weird Sisters’ REAL purpose? All of the group’s members are excellent speakers of Troll. Could it be that their translated song but be a message to all the Trolls for a renewed allegiance with the Dark Lord? Perhaps, the members are Tro-”

“Oh what rubbish!” Miss Granger rudely interrupted, not for the first time in her life. Longbottom sat staring stupidly at her.

“What’s wrong with the article?” Miss Lovegood asked, drifting back to reality.

“Honestly, Potions class is far more interesting than that! How could The Weird Sisters be trolls? That would be like comparing Professor Snape to Lockhart! It’s all nonsense! You should all be studying the properties of the bezoar, especially you Neville,” she shot at them.

With that, she spun around and walked back to Weasley and Potter, taking a leaf out of Longbottom’s stained book and forgetting to buy drinks.

“What’s up?” Weasley asked, fuming at her forgetfulness.

“According to The Quibbler, The Weird Sisters are supposed to be trolls in disguise, just because they are fluent in the language, and that they are trying to reassemble the Dark Lord’s army of trolls,” Miss Granger said sceptically, in her know-it-all manner. Unfortunately, she always acts in her superior way, showing off in class and shadowing all the other students in her year except the brilliant students of Slytherin House, with her supposed knowledge.

“That’s why Colin was so excited this morning,” Weasley sputtered. “He and Dennis had a real fight at breakfast over who could read it first,” he said, referring to the same article which the Slytherins had all noticed and read before any Gryffindor.

“It’s all nonsense! How can you believe that?” Miss Granger returned hotly, causing more people than they already had, to notice their presence, which was nothing special at all.

“Who said I di- Harry are you all right?” Weasley asked suddenly, over-reacting.

Potter sat hunched at the table, clutching his scar tightly.

*********************************************************************************************

The Dark Lord rose from his seat, his red-blood eyes shining, laughing menacingly. He turned to a group of his most faithful Death Eaters.

“He is alone. Go! Hogwarts won’t be Harry Potter’s safe refuge with Dumbledore for much longer.”

*********************************************************************************************

He should have listened; he should have learned how to control it. But no. He was the famous Potter and he didn’t care what risks others put themselves in, just to keep him alive. He had never learned how to master Occlumency, and his mind was just as weak as himself. Then again, he is James Potter’s son, and no son of that man could have ever turned out as unlike his father as Potter; just as rude, just the mischief-maker, just the same Potter.

[hermoine]

This is on behalf of Got_Your_Konk, a.k.a.Peeves.

Mission Choice #1: The Snoopy Ginny Challenge

You are Ginny Weasley, at home at The Burrow. You sneak into your twin brothers' room (in spite of them having put blocking spells on the door; you're a pretty clever little witch after all). Describe what you see and what happens because of this. Aim for about 500 words, please.


Weird Or Feared?

I arrived in front of the twins’, who act like bins, room, and checked that nobody was there, because I am very sneaky and cheeky, like the freaky Mrs Norris. I threw a stinking pellet, since I am no helot, but it rebounded on me, and I was like a stinking ferret. They had put a spell to make my life hell, on the door. Stinking like the poo in the loo, I took out my wand like an ugly-looking Gond, and removed the hinges from the door. Dare they say I’m the youngest anymore?

I entered the room like a beaver, as if I had buck fever, and so I snooped and looped around the room. The lamp, which seemed rather damp, was lying on the floor, although it had never been there before. Pig, the owl in a wig, was hooting in the air, as if he were at a fair, although he should have been in Ron’s room, which resembles a tomb.

On the desk there was a box, which seemed to have got chicken pox, a hat, which sang, “Rat-tat-tat”, and a mere sphere.

I decided to try the hat; at least it would not attack like a pocket rat. I went in front of the mirror, to see how I looked. The mirror cried, “Aaargggh!!! Hide, ride, moon and pride!! Run away without delay!! You are ugly and look so smugly!” I looked in the mirror, and found I had no head. So why was I not dead? Ah! It belonged to Fred, or was it Gred instead? I removed the headless hat, which started to laugh and jest at me. I threw it out of the window, and said, “Tit for tat, you smelly sand rat!”

I took the sphere, which smelled a bit of beer, and opened it without any fear. Why should it be so queer? Then I find that I was blind, and soon was squashed like an orange rind. Yucky goo came out all blue, sticking like brand-new glue. It covered me before Peeves can say, “Wee!” and I couldn’t move, although I did not approve. I fell to the floor, in the time you count till number four. The goo would not just shoo, but it continued to brew and so it grew.

I was stuck, like an ugly looking duck. This was certainly no bad luck! The twins had thought of it, you must admit! I tried to sit, but although I was fit, all I could do was spit. And they came and laughed; poor them they are so daft. They left me there, to lie and stare! Couldn’t they at least have given me a chair? But I will not despair, because this is certainly unfair! I will get loose, but there will be no truce. I’ll get revenge, and so avenge the fix in which I got, which for them will never rot.

[hermoine]

Then there was Round Three. This is on behalf of Dumbledore once more.

A Magic Box has been left on the head table in the Great Hall. One by one, characters pick up the box, speculate on its contents and leave it in another location. It's clearly marked "Wizard's Box", so we know the space inside is magical and could hold just about anything. None of the characters who find the box can open it, though they will each try more than once. No charm or key works, so we never really find out what it holds inside.
·Describe finding the box in the location in which it was left in the previous post.
·What does the character(s) think or hope is inside?
·How does he/she try to open it? (Try a couple of new attempts beyond the easy choices.)
·Give the box away or leave it somewhere for another character(s) to find.

Each submission in this challenge must follow the previous one, so that all of them together make one continuing story.


Evil Looms

Time slowly passed, but none of the students came out. It was a very mysterious thing indeed. But then again, it was a Hogsmeade weekend, and most of the students had decided to enjoy their trip, which didn't occur every week.

The sun had gone behind a wall of clouds, as if it wanted to simply go to sleep, instead of doing its work. The wind howled, and yet, the box remained untouched. A cold, far beyond that of any wind came upon the grounds. It was a rotting cold, which destroyed all life, as shadows fell. A black figure loomed up ahead, levitating in mid-air and seeming as if it didn't fit in the picture at all.

The Dementor crept close to the lake, leaving a trail of dead nature behind it. It crept closer to the box, which lay idle in its position, not noting the horrible thing that was making its way closer to it. The Dementor was hungry. Voldemort had not allowed them to feed on any human life since they rejoined him, and their hunger was growing, their patience waning.

It stopped, its rattling breathe causing the Whomping Willow nearby, to stretch as far away from it as possible. It looked at the box, trying to sense if it were a human-being. If it were, the poor person wouldn't have had much life left in it, even without having the loathsome kiss administered upon him.

The Dementor stretched its hand forward, trying feel the human flesh it longed so much. It continued emitting a cold aura, wondering if whatever was in front of it could be lured. No, it couldn't. The desire was deepening. It couldn't wait any longer now! It swooped down, lunging at the innocent box, lowering its raggy hood, to reveal a hideous form, and a soul-sucking mouth. It drew in breathe, already imagining the first foul taste it had not savoured in months. But nothing happened. It continued staring at the box, puzzled. It had been so sure it had felt a human-life nearby.

Suddenly, it straightened up, gazing at the grey, saddened sky. Voldemort was calling for its presence. Without any further hindrance, it swooped up higher and higher, until it couldn't be seen but for a dot in the sky. An evil, menacing dot.

The sky seemed to clear as the figure disappeared. The sun came out after its momentary play of hide-and-seek, shining once more on the beautiful Hogwarts Grounds. Yet, in the green confines of a quivering bush, young Dennis Creevey lay shuddering, with cold and with deathly fright, at having seen a Dementor before his sight.

[hermoine]

Since this was like a story of how the box moved from place to place it doesn't follow my previous one. This one is written by Peeves.


Feline Curiosity


The doors of the castle opened a bit, and a low puke-orange cat came out. It looked like it had hit at wall. You could have never seen an uglier cat, although Mrs. Norris is very ugly and sneaky too...but you can lift her up in a chandelier and play "Hit the Cat", throwing dungbombs at her. That is a lot of fun!

But this one is smarter. It can sense danger. It is a very tricksy cat. Crookshanks walked up to the box and sniffed it, wondering if it contained any mice without lice. The box suddenly leaped, hitting it hard in the nose. The cat hissed at it; the mice inside were very naughty. Crookshanks moved closer again, being very careful not to make a sound. A whizzing firecracker would have been better.

It pranced onto the box hoping that might catch the mice inside in surprise and the lid would open, but the cat was thrown off onto its back, and the box jumped on top of it. Crookshanks rolled over, but the box landed on its tail and it mewed loudly like an angry Filch when he found a yucky Grindylow in one of spotty, moaning, moping Myrtle's toilets.

Crookshanks ran back up to its master in Gryffindor Tower, the Badger-Granger girl. Those mice must have a very bad temper, they have.



Also written by Peeves. Thought I'd just sneak it in.


The Ape's Box

Snape the ape walked down into the sticky dungeons, holding the box. He entered his office, dropping it on his desk, like an angry Filch. His head was aching like a ferret sraping in a hole.

He looked at the box, wondering what it contained. Perhaps it contained a potion for his yucky greasy hair. He looked like a hag. Maybe it contained a potion to make him less ugly and smugly.

Snape who was as sour as a grape, looked at the box, and closed his eyes. Perhaps he wanted to sleep. His eyebrow twitched. Haha! He was very funny when he did that! After a while he shook his head. No he couldn’t open it with his mind.

His head was like a horse’s shed. A face popped into his fireplace. It was his Headmanship.

“Severus! I need to speak to you.”

“Yes Sir,” said Snape looking more like an ugly ape than duct tape.

His head was aching more and more; the ferret was scraping harder. He left the office, leaving the box alone and silent. It twitched.

[hermoine]

Discuss the problem of in-vitro fertilisation in relation to the conservative and liberal approaches and Kantian ethics.

In what follows I will discuss in-vitro fertilisation in relation to the conservative and liberal approaches and the Kantian ethics.


The Conservative approach is held by those who believe that every human being is a human person. Conservatives believe that the Human Embryo is a human person and thus, a moral subject.

“The conservative approach is supported by two arguments: scientific/genetic and social. The scientific/genetic argument relies on the fact that the foetus is indisputably genetically human. From the moment of conception, all genetic information is present and all the physical characteristics for life are contained in that newly developed code - no new genetic information is added during the life of that individual. Thus fertilisation is said to mark the spatiotemporal beginning of a new human being.”[1]

The social perspective argues that, despite being dependant on the mother, the foetus is still a separate entity, with its own genetic code, and as B. Steinbock argues, it has its own moral worth.

Thus, it is emphasised that the embryo is both genetically human and that moral weight is attached to humanity from the moment of conception.

Conservatives argue that being like “all of us”, the embryo has potentiality, and so, it cannot be denied any of the human rights or human protection which are provided to “us”. The fact that a fertilised ovum is not yet "just like us", it is said, is simply a temporal constraint and it would therefore be morally wrong to kill or otherwise prevent it reaching its potential. In its strongest form, this view maintains that a potential human subject should be accorded the moral standing of an actual human subject. Thus, a “potential person” is also an “actual person”.

Dr A. Liley, the so-called "father of modern foetology” had this to say: “Not all of us will live to be old, but we were each once a foetus ... surely if any of us counts for anything now, we counted for something before we were born.” This statement also comes in relation to the continuity of human life. It is said that human life is an uninterrupted flow, with new individual life appearing at conception.

This Conservative approach, considered by many the most “anti-abortion” and “pre-life” aspect, is and has from its earliest been supported by numerous religions and similar groups.


The Liberal Approach is held by those who believe that at the time of conception, the Human Embryo is simply a cell. Personhood is only acquired at a particular stage during the nine-month process. According to the Liberals, personhood can be achieved:

• When the embryo has some form of physical structure i.e. after 14 days of conception
• When the embryo has acquired consciousness of what goes on around him
• When the embryo has acquired self-consciousness of what is happening to him

Thus they don’t believe in the absolute human right to life until an embryo has become a human person. This intuition accords with the notion that the moral significance of the embryo increases gradually over time, in parallel with its physical development.[5]

Countries which have adopted Liberal legislation include UK, Denmark, the Netherlands, Finland and Greece. In the UK for example “the Human Fertilisation and Embryology Act 1990 created a regulatory authority responsible for licensing the practice of embryo research. Licences were issued only for research conducted before the "primitive streak" at 14 days.” In Finland, “the April 1999 Medical Research Act establishes a 14-day time limit on embryo research, which is subject to the prior consent of the progenitors. Section 13 states that the creation of embryos purely for the purposes of research is prohibited. Chapter 3 specifies that research can be performed only by agencies with the appropriate license from the National Authority for Medico - Legal Affairs. Section 14 states that research on a fetus must be done only with the written consent of the pregnant woman. Section 15 explicitly prohibits any research which has the objective of modifying the genetic line unless undertaken for the purpose of preventing or curing a serious hereditary disease.”


Immanuel Kant (1724-1804) was a German Philosopher who believed that Ethics should be based on scientific rules. He also felt that morals should be perceived as a matter of duty and obligation; because it is your duty not because it happens to make someone happy (like in utilitarianism). Happiness and morality are different from one another. According to him, moral laws can never be broken, regardless of whether you will be at fault in doing so.

He said that if there are moral laws, they should have an absolute status, and so, do not admit of exceptions. He also stated that if people follow Maxim (a principle we generally follow in our lives; it is constant and without contradiction) then absolute moral laws can be derived.

Kant also believed in the Categorical Imperative. This constitutes 3 ideas:
 Consider the maxim as if it were a universal absolute law - "Act as if the maxim from which you act were to become through your will a universal law."(Kant)[2] You should never take the consequences of such a maxim into consideration. You should act as you think everybody else would in your situation. “Don’t act according to a Hypothetical Imperative (Do X if you want Y) as our desires differ from person to person. Rather, ask when you are about to do X, whether you can will that everyone else act the same way.”[3]

 Rational beings should be treated as ends and never as mere means – “Treat others and oneself never merely as a means, but always at the same time as an end in itself.”(Kant) [4] Human beings are rational and therefore shouldn’t be considered as means. Humans have a good value in them and therefore they shouldn’t be used to provide a profit. Failing to recognise their moral dignity is to fail in recognizing their worth, which is established by their possession of rationality and autonomy.

 Others should be respected as if they were part of a “Kingdom of Ends”. This means that you should respect others and let them reach their goals, without obstructing them and controlling their lives. This Categorical Imperative is a principle of democracy, where people are allowed to reach their aims, unless by doing so they’re obstructing the absolute human laws of others. E.g. although carrying out a terrorist attack could be an aim for someone, it is morally wrong because by doing so he/she will be obstructing the right to life of others.


When taking the Conservative approach in relation to Kantian ethics, one will observe that Conservatives are both against IVF and Abortion. They believe that we become human persons as from the moment of conception, and since no conception really takes place when using IVF, the “result” produced from IVF shouldn’t be considered as a human person. Regarding this notion in relation to Kant’s belief, Conservatives regard this as a universal law, with no exceptions, e.g. if a couple wishes to use IVF to have their own baby, Conservatives would be more likely to suggest adoption as one of the routes to opt for. Conservatives are also completely against the killing/freezing and testing on unwanted embryos after an IVF treatment, as they believe that an embryo is a human person already and therefore shouldn’t be tampered with in such a manner or deprived of its human rights, especially that to life. As it will not be allowed to form and become a fully structured human person, it is being deprived of the things it could do in its life; this procedure would be seen as a means of obtaining good results out of research by using human persons to achieve one’s ends.


When taking the Liberal approach in relation to Kantian ethics, it can be noted that all Liberals agree on the possibility of carrying out IVF treatment. Their opinions differ when speaking of abortion where it is a matter of not carrying out abortion either after 14 days, or following the acquisition of consciousness, or after the acquisition of self-consciousness. Since they believe that at conception an embryo is simply a cell, they do not see it as morally wrong to use embryos for research purposes. Nevertheless, they are ready to fight for an embryo’s right after it has become a human person. In relation to Kant’s belief, they regard this maxim is a universal law. Since they don’t believe that the pre-embryo is a human person, they see nothing wrong with using it for some tests, because as they will be prone to point out, it is for the good of the other human persons. The embryo cannot think nor have goals because it is not a human person, and therefore you are not denying it any rights.


I argue in favour of the Liberal Approach with several reservations. I agree with using IVF treatment because it will help couples have their own baby, even if they cannot naturally. I also agree with it in the cases where a capable and responsible mother wishes to have her own child though she doesn’t have a partner to “help her out”. In such cases she can accept a donated sperm and ask the donator to sign the termination of parental rights. Nevertheless, I do not agree with the killing of unwanted embryos.


References:

[1] www.murdoch.edu.au/elaw/issues/v2n3/mcgivern23.html
[2] www.cpm.ll.ehime-u.ac.jp/AkamacHomePage/Akamac_E-text_Links/Kant.html
[3] www.cariboo.bc.ca/ae/php/phil/mclaughl/courses/ethics/bioeth/lectures.htm
[4] www.trialog-der-kulturen.com/root/index.php?lang=de&preview=true&page_id=599
[5] www.zadok.org.au/webarticles/stemcell.html