Playing God Poem by Mary Champion

Once it was simple -
tough but simple -
when disease came we lived with it
or we died of it.
We could pray to the gods,
administer an ineffective treatment
and wait.
Nothing else!
It was just luck or divine judgement -
witchcraft or malevolent spirits.
Whatever the cause
the outcome was out of our hands.

Eventually we stopped blaming them
- the witches and demons,
began to identify the microbes,
the genetic weaknesses.
But our hands were still tied by ignorance
and fate outweighed us in the outcome.

Now we are too clever for our peace of mind.
Now so much of it is in our hands
and the pressure is daunting.
Man has acquired god-like powers -
all we lack is the wisdom to wield them well.
Now we must weigh up the balance -
x unemployed versus y dead or disabled?
 
Once we left it to the fates -
but the fates are brutal and uncaring.
The fates do not recognise individual worth and suffering -
like cosmic accountants they are slaves to statistics.
Now we must do the sums.
Now it's personal.

1700 road deaths each year - is that OK?
Or should we give up on driving?
And how many deaths from Covid
are worth paying for a child's education,
or a man's livelihood?
1,000?
2,000?
10,000?
It is all academic until one of them is you,
or someone you love.

We have eaten of the fruit of the tree of knowledge -
we know too much to go back and pretend.
We signed up to play God
and there is no rewind button.