Stem Cell Division

Stem cells may not have been the highlight of last week's presidential debate, but there in the front row, wedged between Teresa Heinz Kerry and Kerry's daughter Vanessa, sat a person who stands for the power of science better than words ever could: Michael J. Fox. Diagnosed with Parkinson's in 1991 and visibly ailing, Fox is a staunch supporter of stem-cell research and has, in recent weeks, become Sen. John Kerry's ambassador for the cause. It didn't bother Fox that the subject barely came up or that his presence was largely symbolic. "I'm happy I could do it. If anyone saw me there, they know that the issue is important to [Kerry]," he told NEWSWEEK. A political junkie who watches CSpan as if it were reality TV, Fox was thrilled to have a ringside seat. He even had some fun: when Vanessa leaned over to tell Fox she was "trying to be Zen" as her father and President George W. Bush went after each other on jobs, the economy and health care, Fox put his hands into the lotus position and said, "Om."

Watching Fox, it was impossible not to think of Christopher Reeve, who died last week at the age of 52. A tireless advocate for stem-cell research--"Superman in a wheelchair," as one friend called him--Reeve's death refocused attention on an issue that has mobilized celebrities, activists, scientists, politicians and even regular folks who barely remember their high-school biology. Human embryonic stem cells, capable of morphing into any one of the more than 200 cell types in the human body, have become a wedge issue in a razor-thin election. For months the Kerry campaign has put biology front and center, vowing to overturn Bush's current stem-cell policy. In a radio address over the weekend, Kerry paid tribute to Reeve as a hero and friend, then charged the president with making "the wrong choice to sacrifice science for extreme right-wing ideology." The White House has been firmly fighting back, with Laura Bush, whose father has Alzheimer's, on the front lines. "Stem-cell research doesn't offer a cure right around the corner, and it's irresponsible to suggest that it does," she told a crowd in Milwaukee earlier this month. The president says his policy is a balance of science and ethics. That pleases social conservatives, who are firmly anti-abortion and adamantly opposed to research on embryos, even if they're manufactured in a petri dish. (According to a NEWSWEEK Poll, just over half of all Bush-Cheney supporters oppose using federal tax dollars to fund embryonic-stem-cell research.) For both camps, the phrase "stem cells" is about more than science: it's code for some of the most loaded vernacular of the culture war.

Embryonic-stem-cell research, while still in its infancy, has the potential to treat or perhaps even cure the more than 100 million Americans who suffer an array of illnesses and conditions, from heart disease to spinal-cord injuries. Scientists say the cells could be one of the greatest revolutions in modern medicine--and half of American voters support using taxpayer dollars to fund the research, according to the NEWSWEEK Poll. But because the cells are derived from days-old human embryos, the science raises thorny ethics questions, key among them: should taxpayers fund the research? As scientists and stem-cell activists push the envelope, the stakes only continue to grow. Last week Harvard researchers reported that they had applied for university permission to clone human embryos to study models of human disease like diabetes and Alzheimer's. Across the country in California, stem cells are the topic of dinner conversation and Hollywood cocktail parties, as supporters rally for votes on an initiative--on the Nov. 2 ballot--that would fund $3 billion worth of stem-cell research, creating a haven for science and a 21st-century gold rush for biologists and biotech companies.

The stem-cell issue is so divisive it has created opponents of those who would otherwise be allies. In the Reagan family, one brother, Michael, is an evangelical Christian ardently opposed to embryonic-stem-cell research; the other, Ron Jr., believes so strongly in the science he risked the wrath of his father's Republican Party by appearing at the Democratic National Convention to fire up support for research. Lesser knowns like Jim Kelly, 47 and paralyzed in a car accident seven years ago, hasn't voted since he was 18; this year he'll vote for Bush. A vocal opponent of embryonic-stem-cell research, Kelly believes the Democrats are spreading false hope among patients. Paul Bryant, meanwhile, a 56-year-old disabled by a rare neuromuscular disease and a registered independent in Cincinnati, will swing to Kerry--and he's taking 18 other family members, including his dyed-in-the-wool Republican father, George, 77, along with him. Ideology, he says, has no place in science.

Just a few miles away, in Liberty Township, Ohio, Lora Melin is the undecided voter both camps are after. A registered independent, she pulled the lever for Bush in 2000, but this year she's not so sure. The reason: her daughter, Maggie, 4, suffers from juvenile diabetes. Ten to 15 times a day, Maggie's blood sugar must be checked. And the little blond ballerina has to wear a portable insulin pump, which delivers insulin through a tube inserted into her abdomen or lower back. She carries the device to preschool in a fanny pack decorated with yellow and green ladybugs. "I wake up every morning and wonder if she's alive," says Melin. "We need the funds and we need the research."

For months John Kerry has been putting the heat on the stem-cell issue. On June 21, the very day 48 Nobel Prize-winning scientists endorsed the candidate, Kerry appeared at a rally in Denver, where he was introduced by Chris Chappell, 40, a registered Republican--and a quadriplegic advocating for stem-cell research. Thousands turned out in a drizzle to hear Kerry pledge to advance embryonic-stem-cell research. "What if we could cure cancer, Parkinson's, AIDS and Alzheimer's?" he said. Early on, Kerry aides thought stem cells would be too arcane an issue, but they discovered they were wrong: from Seattle to Appleton, Wis., the stem-cell lingo has triggered huge applause, as much as--sometimes more than--the topic of Iraq.