Monday, January 21, 2013

Calling all criminals

I wondered if I should run this blog past The Ethicist column in the New York Times Magazine. Readers submit their issue and ask the Ethicist's opinion to sort out whether something is not only legal but also ethical.

Dear Ethicist:
I am currently on an oral chemotherapy drug with a very unusual side effect. My fingerprints have disappeared! Not all patients experience this, but apparently some of us do. I'm torn whether I should write about this in my blog or whether I would be inadvertently aiding and abetting the criminal element that would be only too happy to learn how to avoid leaving fingerprints behind at the scene of a crime.
Signed, Finger Printless in NJ

Dear FP:
I think you are worrying unnecessarily, as not all patients get this unusual manifestation and it may take years of taking the drug before it develops. It's hardly a foolproof method and criminals would do just as well using the time honored method of sandpaper and acid. Also DNA at the crime scene is becoming much more common in usage. I also took the liberty of Googling your condition and it has been reported in the news, specifically a case in 2009, where a Mr. S had difficulty entering the US from Singapore because of his lack of fingerprints.
I would advise blogging away, although I would think a more interesting topic could be found.
Signed, The Ethicist

What? Is he kidding? No fingerprints without having burned them off with acid is pretty cool in my book. I first noticed this when I tried to activate my new HP laptop's Simple Pass-- a program that simplifies remembering myriad passwords by having you store them, locked with a scan of your fingerprint. To access all your password protected websites, bank accounts, email, credit cards, and even Facebook, you simply swipe your finger across the sensor--unless, of course, you get the message: "The sensor could not collect enough of your fingerprint. Please swipe again." After about 100 swipes, I examined my fingers and realized they were slightly puffy, cracked and smooth.

Immediately I wondered if this were a sign. Should I start casing convenience stores, plan on robbing a bank or consider breaking and entering around my neighborhood? One of the many pamphlets I have on living with metastatic cancer urges that we "Do Something Crazy."  Hmm....maybe they mean the more traditional things, like taking a hot air balloon ride or travelling to Antarctica?

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