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Bion taught that moments of intuition are turbulent, that evolution and growth are catastrophic. This seems to be as true for whole societies as for individuals. Technological innovation that vastly improves life at first is often greeted with alarm.
Small pox, for example, was a dreaded scourge before the advent of vaccination. Millions died in its epidemics, and those who survived were left disfigured. Until the end of the 18th century, small pox was thought to be the province of God alone, with mankind having little to do about it except pray. Then in 1796 the English physician Edward Jenner gave the first public demonstration of a successful inoculation against small pox. One would think that a grateful public would have heaved a sigh of relief and lined up to be vaccinated. Instead, Jenner was reviled. There was a moral outcry against the procedure, particularly among the clergy. Inoculation would usurp God's unique right to decide the beginning and end of life, they warned. Only the hypocrites would still pray to God after having been vaccinated (Blum, 2006).
Today, we hear echoes of these sentiments regarding the medical treatment of infertility. The inability to conceive and bear a child creates a special kind of misery. Every culture seems to have been preoccupied with this problem and addressed it with an array of fertility symbols, prayer, and mythology. The Old Testament tells the miraculous stories of Sarah and of Hannah, whose anguish over their childlessness was relieved by God after proper prayer. Fairy tales are replete with sad couples wishing unsuccessfully for a child, their wish finally granted by some magical means.
Over the last century it has become less fashionable to see infertility as God's curse. Instead the more sophisticated version of its causality involves