As biotech pushes the boundaries of genetics, the dream of de-extinction inches closer to reality. But what happens when the dead don’t stay dead—or worse, when we create something the world has never seen?
"Forget digitizing those old movies to see what grandma sounded like. Just bring her back to watch them with you."
That line isn’t dystopian science fiction anymore—it’s where we’re headed. Thanks to the accelerating pace of multiplex gene editing, synthetic wombs, and ancient DNA sequencing, the resurrection of extinct animals is already in motion. And humans? The question is no longer if we can—but if we should.
Companies like Colossal Biosciences have made headlines by reintroducing traits of long-dead species into modern animals. Earlier this year, they unveiled genetically modified wolf pups said to mimic the legendary dire wolf. While experts argue the creatures are still just gray wolves in enhanced costumes, the implications are clear: we're no longer just conserving nature. We're rewriting it.
Their pups—named Romulus, Remus, and Khaleesi, for dramatic flair—aren’t dire wolves by any true genetic standard. Paleogeneticists have pointed out that dire wolves and modern canines diverged millions of years ago. Still, Colossal was able to isolate and express 14 genetic traits believed to define the dire wolf's appearance, giving their gray wolf surrogates a broader skull, thicker frame, and prehistoric swagger.
While Colossal may not be acting in questionable ways, others might. The tools being developed are powerful. With CRISPR and its successors, scientists can now edit dozens of genes at once, shaping embryos at the cellular level. And power, as history reminds us, tends to be abused. Some may decide to create things we've never seen before—and at what cost?
Where do we draw the line? Your beloved kitty? The dodo? Megalodon? The line quickly blurs into something from The Island of Dr. Moreau.
Today, de-extinction is no longer limited to recovering what was lost. We're already toying with ideas of designer species—animals engineered not to mimic something that once was, but to serve a new function: pest control, environmental cleanup, even military use. It doesn’t take a stretch of the imagination to foresee private firms or black-budget projects crafting life with no precedent in nature. Hybrids. Chimeras. Genomic experiments that redefine what life even is.
Morality in America is on life support. And with no unified global ethical framework in place, there is little stopping biotech companies or authoritarian regimes from pushing the genetic envelope beyond what we can control. It doesn’t take a resurrected apex predator to disrupt the balance of the natural world. A simple, unknown invasive species—engineered with the best of intentions or the worst of motives—could forever change the planet as we know it.
We already struggle to contain invasive plants. What happens when the invader has legs—and a CRISPR-designed immune system?
Then there is the human question. For now, even suggesting we bring back extinct humans like Neanderthals is relegated to fringe speculation. But let’s be honest— we've already sequenced their genomes. We have access to thousands of ancient human remains. And the same tools used to recreate mammoths from elephants could, in theory, be used to resurrect Homo sapiens from fragments of DNA left in old bones or on ancient tools.
Would the first reborn Neanderthal be considered a person? A scientific achievement? Or something else entirely? Would it have rights? A family? A purpose? And that doesn’t even begin to address the dark potential of trying to recreate lost loved ones. All it takes is a few preserved cells. A sliver of hair. A hint of blood on a childhood toy. Once the technology exists, the temptation will be too great for some to resist. If we can bring back a mammoth for science, why not grandma for Christmas?
This isn't about Jurassic Park. It's about today. It's about the fact that we're getting closer to the moment when we might be able to bring someone—or something—back. And we have to ask: Are we ready for that?
Because once it's out there, we can't put the genome back in the bottle.