Ahmad Sameer
There was a time when I believed inequality was primarily an economic question. Wealth, power, prestige and privilege were distributed unevenly among people, yet the human body itself remained a realm where nature exercised its authority.
My encounter with Yuval Noah Harari’s 21 Lessons for the 21st Century compelled me to revisit that assumption and, in the process, rethink Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s famous classification of inequality.
Centuries ago, Rousseau proposed a twofold classification of inequality.
The first was Moral Inequality — disparities created by human arrangements: wealth, power, social prestige and privilege. It is the root cause of exploitation and injustice and becomes intolerable when it exceeds acceptable limits. Many social movements and revolutions have sought to dismantle it.
Unlike natural differences, moral inequality is alterable. One of the great achievements of modern political thought was the realization that hierarchies are not divinely ordained. Kings, nobles and aristocrats were not born with a natural right to rule. Human systems created these inequalities, and human systems could change them.
The second was Natural Inequality — differences that arise not from society but from nature itself. Variations in height, skin colour, physical strength or certain biological characteristics belonged to this category. These were traditionally viewed as beyond the reach of social arrangements.
But is Rousseau’s distinction still relevant in the age of biotechnology?
Harari’s writings raise a troubling possibility: inequality today is no longer confined to economics alone. It is beginning to penetrate biology itself.
Consider two individuals who are both bald. One possesses the resources to undergo a hair transplant and regains his hair. The other cannot afford such a procedure and remains bald.
Consider cosmetic surgeries, fertility technologies, anti-ageing treatments, advanced therapies or future gene-editing techniques capable of altering physical traits and perhaps even extending longevity itself.
Who are the people most likely to participate in these new adventures of medical science?
Clearly, those standing on the highest rungs of economic prosperity.
A simple fictional story illustrates the point.
Two friends, Samad and Ahmad, were born on the same day in the same village.
At the age of fifty, they met again after many years.
Samad, a retired banker, looked energetic and youthful. Ahmad, a daily-wage labourer, appeared far older. Deep wrinkles crossed his face, his hair had greyed prematurely and decades of uncertainty had left visible marks upon his body.
A stranger would have assumed there was a significant age gap between them.
There was not.
The difference lay in the lives they had lived.
One spent decades worrying about investments.
The other spent decades worrying about survival.
The years were equal.
The burdens were not.
Increasingly, we encounter situations where economic inequality appears to pave the way for biological inequality.
The global cosmetic and aesthetic surgery industry already offers a glimpse of this emerging reality. Millions of cosmetic procedures are performed annually across the world, often costing thousands — sometimes tens of thousands — of dollars. Such interventions remain inaccessible to large sections of society while being routinely available to affluent groups.
The contrast becomes even sharper when viewed from the other side.
While some individuals can afford procedures intended to enhance appearance or slow visible ageing, billions continue to struggle for access to basic healthcare. Millions are pushed into financial hardship because of medical expenses, while countless others postpone treatment simply because they cannot afford it.
What happens if future drugs are developed that significantly extend human longevity?
Who will hold all the aces then?
Whose cheques will be honoured first?
Will such technologies become available to humanity as a whole, or only to those capable of paying the price?
The question becomes even more unsettling when viewed through the lens of climate change.
We find ourselves in the midst of a planetary crisis that many scientists warn is approaching dangerous tipping points. Once certain thresholds are crossed, the consequences could become catastrophic. Yet the burden will not be shared equally.
Reports by the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change repeatedly warn that impoverished and vulnerable regions are likely to experience some of the harshest consequences. Extreme heat, floods, droughts, food insecurity and displacement will disproportionately affect those who lack the resources, infrastructure and institutional support necessary to adapt.
Again, the same questions emerge.
Who will be able to relocate?
Who will be able to insure their homes?
Who will gain access to advanced healthcare?
Who will possess the means to shield themselves from the worst consequences?
The super-elites, undoubtedly, will face challenges too. But they will possess options unavailable to the materially deprived.
That is what makes the present moment historically significant.
The struggle between the economically powerful and the materially deprived is no longer confined to income, property or consumption. It is gradually extending into domains that would have seemed unimaginable a century ago.
The old conflict concerned who owned wealth.
The emerging conflict concerns who can alter biology, extend longevity, withstand environmental shocks and secure a healthier future.
Rousseau taught us to distinguish between moral inequality and natural inequality.
The twenty-first century compels us to ask whether the former is slowly acquiring the power to reshape the latter.
If that happens, biological inequality may become the newest chapter in the long history of economic inequality.
(The author holds a Master’s degree in Political Science and can be reached at: ahmedsameer2135@gmail.com)
