This week’s claim by scientists in the US to have successfully “de-extincted” a species of wolf not seen for 12,000 years has rightly generated much excitement. According to Dallas-based Colossal Biosciences, ancient DNA taken from a 13,000-year-old tooth and a 72,000-year-old skull was manipulated with cloning and gene-editing technology to create three pups of the Aenocyon dirus species – the dire wolves of Game of Thrones fame.
Except, did they? By using the genes of a grey wolf – the dire wolf’s closest living relative – the two males and one female pup are essentially a grey wolf-dire wolf hybrid, similar in appearance to the larger, extinct species. Nevertheless, while scientists tussle over whether this is a true resurrection or not, one thing the pups’ arrival has certainly revived are the kind of questions about conservation, ethics and genetic research first raised following the 1996 birth of Dolly the sheep, the world’s first cloned mammal.
Supporters of such research have many strong points to make. Reviving key species can increase biodiversity, restore ecological balance and, by studying living specimens’ physiology and behaviour, even allow us to discover why they went extinct in the first place. The knowledge gleaned while scrutinising and manipulating such animals’ DNA could produce cures for genetic diseases and generally advance our understanding of evolutionary biology.
That so many people have been understandably captivated by the wolf pups reveals another benefit of this kind of research – the ability to inspire more public interest in conservation, providing a timely reminder of the need to protect all species as human activity threatens more wildlife and habitats than ever before. But has the human impact on the planet already undermined the effectiveness of such “de-extinction” programmes?
Many long-gone species died out because of habitat change; if their original habitats are gone or significantly altered, what consequences will this have for revenant animals’ well-being? In addition, the small number of revived animals almost guarantees a lack of genetic diversity that could lead to health problems. “De-extinction”, as with other forms of advanced cloning, is an expensive process that could have unpredictable consequences for 21st-century ecosystems.
Even the headline-grabbing excitement of reviving long-lost animals has its downside, threatening to distract from the hard work of many NGOs and individuals to conserve the species and habitats that exist today.
What is clear is that recreating lost species is no magic wand for arresting the alarming rate of environmental damage that is taking place right now. According to the International Union for Conservation of Nature, 47,000 species are threatened with extinction today – that is 28 per cent of all assessed species. Is niche genetic science the best way to arrest such decline? And given the absence of a comprehensive set of international regulations to govern animal cloning, what rules are in place to guide this powerful technology?
This is an important debate, one that has many profound moral and practical implications. It is a conversation that must remain informed and rational in the years ahead, long after the publicity surrounding the births of Romulus, Remus and their sister Khaleesi has faded.
