With Lab-Grown Chicken Nuggets, Dumplings, and Burgers, Futuristic Foods Aim to Seem Familiar
Sandhya Sriram is at the forefront of the expanding lab-grown meat industry in more ways than one.
"[Lab-grown meat] is kind of a brave new world for a lot of people, and food isn't something people like being brave about."
She's the CEO and co-founder of one of fewer than 30 companies that is even in this game in the first place. Her Singapore-based company, Shiok Meats, is the only one to pop up in Southeast Asia. And it's the only company in the world that's attempting to grow crustaceans in a lab, starting with shrimp. This spring, the company debuted a prototype of its shrimp, and completed a seed funding round of $4.6 million.
Yet despite all of these wins, Sriram's own mother won't try the company's shrimp. She's a staunch, lifelong vegetarian, adhering to a strict definition of what that means.
"[Lab-grown meat] is kind of a brave new world for a lot of people, and food isn't something people like being brave about. It's really a rather hard-wired thing," says Kate Krueger, the research director at New Harvest, a non-profit accelerator for cellular agriculture (the umbrella field that studies how to grow animal products in the lab, including meat, dairy, and eggs).
It's so hard-wired, in fact, that trends in food inform our species' origin story. In 2017, a group of paleoanthropologists caused an upset when they unearthed fossils in present day Morocco showing that our earliest human ancestors lived much further north and 100,000 years earlier than expected -- the remains date back 300,000 years. But the excavation not only included bones and tools, it also painted a clear picture of the prevailing menu at the time: The oldest humans were apparently chomping on tons of gazelle, as well as wildebeest and zebra when they could find them, plus the occasional seasonal ostrich egg.
These were people with a diet shaped by available resources, but also by the ability to cook in the first place. In his book Catching Fire: How Cooking Made Us Human, Harvard primatologist Richard Wrangam writes that the very thing that allowed for the evolution of Homo sapiens was the ability to transform raw ingredients into edible nutrients through cooking.
Today, our behavior and feelings around food are the product of local climate, crops, animal populations, and tools, but also religion, tradition, and superstition. So what happens when you add science to the mix? Turns out, we still trend toward the familiar. The innovations in lab-grown meat that are picking up the most steam are foods like burgers, not meat chips, and salmon, not salmon-cod-tilapia hybrids. It's not for lack of imagination, it's because the industry's practitioners know that a lifetime of food memories is a hard thing to contend with. So far, the nascent lab-grown meat industry is not so much disrupting as being shaped by the oldest culture we have.
Not a single piece of lab-grown meat is commercially available to consumers yet, and already so much ink has been spilled debating if it's really meat, if it's kosher, if it's vegetarian, if it's ethical, if it's sustainable. But whether or not the industry succeeds and sticks around is almost moot -- watching these conversations and innovations unfold serves as a mirror reflecting back who we are, what concerns us, and what we aspire to.
The More Things Change, the More They Stay the Same
The building blocks for making lab-grown meat right now are remarkably similar, no matter what type of animal protein a company is aiming to produce.
First, a small biopsy, about the size of a sesame seed, is taken from a single animal. Then, the muscle cells are isolated and added to a nutrient-dense culture in a bioreactor -- the same tool used to make beer -- where the cells can multiply, grow, and form muscle tissue. This tissue can then be mixed with additives like nutrients, seasonings, binders, and sometimes colors to form a food product. Whether a company is attempting to make chicken, fish, beef, shrimp, or any other animal protein in a lab, the basic steps remain similar. Cells from various animals do behave differently, though, and each company has its own proprietary techniques and tools. Some, for example, use fetal calf serum as their cell culture, while others, aiming for a more vegan approach, eschew it.
"New gadgets feel safest when they remind us of other objects that we already know."
According to Mark Post, who made the first lab-grown hamburger at Maastricht University in the Netherlands in 2013, the cells of just one cow can give way to 175 million four-ounce burgers. By today's available burger-making methods, you'd need to slaughter 440,000 cows for the same result. The projected difference in the purely material efficiency between the two systems is staggering. The environmental impact is hard to predict, though. Some companies claim that their lab-grown meat requires 99 percent less land and 96 percent less water than traditional farming methods -- and that rearing fewer cows, specifically, would reduce methane emissions -- but the energy cost of running a lab-grown-meat production facility at an industrial scale, especially as compared to small-scale, pasture-raised farming, could be problematic. It's difficult to truly measure any of this in a burgeoning industry.
At this point, growing something like an intact shrimp tail or a marbled steak in a lab is still a Holy Grail. It would require reproducing the complex musculo-skeletal and vascular structure of meat, not just the cellular basis, and no one's successfully done it yet. Until then, many companies working on lab-grown meat are perfecting mince. Each new company's demo of a prototype food feels distinctly regional, though: At the Disruption in Food and Sustainability Summit in March, Shiok (which is pronounced "shook," and is Singaporean slang for "very tasty and delicious") first shared a prototype of its shrimp as an ingredient in siu-mai, a dumpling of Chinese origin and a fixture at dim sum. JUST, a company based in the U.S., produced a demo chicken nugget.
As Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin, the 17th century founder of the gastronomic essay, famously said, "Show me what you eat, and I'll tell you who you are."
For many of these companies, the baseline animal protein they are trying to innovate also feels tied to place and culture: When meat comes from a bioreactor, not a farm, the world's largest exporter of seafood could be a landlocked region, and beef could be "reared" in a bayou, yet the handful of lab-grown fish companies, like Finless Foods and BlueNalu, hug the American coasts; VOW, based in Australia, started making lab-grown kangaroo meat in August; and of course the world's first lab-grown shrimp is in Singapore.
"In the U.S., shrimps are either seen in shrimp cocktail, shrimp sushi, and so on, but [in Singapore] we have everything from shrimp paste to shrimp oil," Sriram says. "It's used in noodles and rice, as flavoring in cup noodles, and in biscuits and crackers as well. It's seen in every form, shape, and size. It just made sense for us to go after a protein that was widely used."
It's tempting to assume that innovating on pillars of cultural significance might be easier if the focus were on a whole new kind of food to begin with, not your popular dim sum items or fast food offerings. But it's proving to be quite the opposite.
"That could have been one direction where [researchers] just said, 'Look, it's really hard to reproduce raw ground beef. Why don't we just make something completely new, like meat chips?'" says Mike Lee, co-founder and co-CEO of Alpha Food Labs, which works on food innovation more broadly. "While that strategy's interesting, I think we've got so many new things to explain to people that I don't know if you want to also explain this new format of food that you've never, ever seen before."
We've seen this same cautious approach to change before in other ways that relate to cooking. Perhaps the most obvious example is the kitchen range. As Bee Wilson writes in her book Consider the Fork: A History of How We Cook and Eat, in the 1880s, convincing ardent coal-range users to switch to newfangled gas was a hard sell. To win them over, inventor William Sugg designed a range that used gas, but aesthetically looked like the coal ones already in fashion at the time -- and which in some visual ways harkened even further back to the days of open-hearth cooking. Over time, gas range designs moved further away from those of the past, but the initial jump was only made possible through familiarity. There's a cleverness to meeting people where they are.
"New gadgets feel safest when they remind us of other objects that we already know," writes Wilson. "It is far harder to accept a technology that is entirely new."
Maybe someday we won't want anything other than meat chips, but not today.
Measuring Success
A 2018 Gallup poll shows that in the U.S., rates of true vegetarianism and veganism have been stagnant for as long as they've been measured. When the poll began in 1999, six percent of Americans were vegetarian, a number that remained steady until 2012, when the number dropped one point. As of 2018, it remained at five percent.
In 2012, when Gallup first measured the percentage of vegans, the rate was two percent. By 2018 it had gone up just one point, to three percent. Increasing awareness of animal welfare, health, and environmental concerns don't seem to be incentive enough to convince Americans, en masse, to completely slam the door on a food culture characterized in many ways by its emphasis on traditional meat consumption.
"A lot of consumers get over the ick factor when you tell them that most of the food that you're eating right now has entered the lab at some point."
Wilson writes that "experimenting with new foods has always been a dangerous business. In the wild, trying out some tempting new berries might lead to death. A lingering sense of this danger may make us risk-averse in the kitchen."
That might be one psychologically deep-seated reason that Americans are so resistant to ditch meat altogether. But a middle ground is emerging with a rise in flexitarianism, which aims to reduce reliance on traditional animal products. "Americans are eager to include alternatives to animal products in their diets, but are not willing to give up animal products completely," the same 2018 Gallup poll reported. This may represent the best opportunity for lab-grown meat to wedge itself into the culture.
Quantitatively predicting a population's willingness to try a lab-grown version of its favorite protein is proving a hard thing to measure, however, because it's still science fiction to a regular consumer. Measuring popular opinion of something that doesn't really exist yet is a dubious pastime.
In 2015, University of Wisconsin School of Public Health researchers Linnea Laestadius and Mark Caldwell conducted a study using online comments on articles about lab-grown meat to suss out public response to the food. The results showed a mostly negative attitude, but that was only two years into a field that is six years old today. Already public opinion may have shifted.
Shiok Meat's Sriram and her co-founder Ka Yi Ling have used online surveys to get a sense of the landscape, but they also take a more direct approach sometimes. Every time they give a public talk about their company and their shrimp, they poll their audience before and after the talk, using the question, "How many of you are willing to try, and pay, to eat lab-grown meat?"
They consistently find that the percentage of people willing to try goes up from 50 to 90 percent after hearing their talk, which includes information about the downsides of traditional shrimp farming (for one thing, many shrimp are raised in sewage, and peeled and deveined by slaves) and a bit of information about how lab-grown animal protein is being made now. I saw this pan out myself when Ling spoke at a New Harvest conference in Cambridge, Massachusetts in July.
"A lot of consumers get over the ick factor when you tell them that most of the food that you're eating right now has entered the lab at some point," Sriram says. "We're not going to grow our meat in the lab always. It's in the lab right now, because we're in R&D. Once we go into manufacturing ... it's going to be a food manufacturing facility, where a lot of food comes from."
The downside of the University of Wisconsin's and Shiok Meat's approach to capturing public opinion is that they each look at self-selecting groups: Online commenters are often fueled by a need to complain, and it's likely that anyone attending a talk by the co-founders of a lab-grown meat company already has some level of open-mindedness.
So Sriram says that she and Ling are also using another method to assess the landscape, and it's somewhere in the middle. They've been watching public responses to the closest available product to lab-grown meat that's on the market: Impossible Burger. As a 100 percent plant-based burger, it's not quite the same, but this bleedable, searable patty is still very much the product of science and laboratory work. Its remarkable similarity to beef is courtesy of yeast that have been genetically engineered to contain DNA from soy plant roots, which produce a protein called heme as they multiply. This heme is a plant-derived protein that can look and act like the heme found in animal muscle.
So far, the sciencey underpinnings of the burger don't seem to be turning people off. In just four years, it's already found its place within other American food icons. It's readily available everywhere from nationwide Burger Kings to Boston's Warren Tavern, which has been in operation since 1780, is one of the oldest pubs in America, and is even named after the man who sent Paul Revere on his midnight ride. Some people have already grown so attached to the Impossible Burger that they will actually walk out of a restaurant that's out of stock. Demand for the burger is outpacing production.
"Even though [Impossible] doesn't consider their product cellular agriculture, it's part of a spectrum of innovation," Krueger says. "There are novel proteins that you're not going to find in your average food, and there's some cool tech there. So to me, that does show a lot of willingness on people's part to think about trying something new."
The message for those working on animal-based lab-grown meat is clear: People will accept innovation on their favorite food if it tastes good enough and evokes the same emotional connection as the real deal.
"How people talk about lab-grown meat now, it's still a conversation about science, not about culture and emotion," Lee says. But he's confident that the conversation will start to shift in that direction if the companies doing this work can nail the flavor memory, above all.
And then proving how much power flavor lords over us, we quickly derail into a conversation about Doritos, which he calls "maniacally delicious." The chips carry no health value whatsoever and are a native product of food engineering and manufacturing — just watch how hard it is for Bon Appetit associate food editor Claire Saffitz to try and recreate them in the magazine's test kitchen — yet devotees remain unfazed and crunch on.
"It's funny because it shows you that people don't ask questions about how [some foods] are made, so why are they asking so many questions about how lab-grown meat is made?" Lee asks.
For all the hype around Impossible Burger, there are still controversies and hand-wringing around lab-grown meat. Some people are grossed out by the idea, some people are confused, and if you're the U.S. Cattlemen's Association (USCA), you're territorial. Last year, the group sent a petition to the USDA to "exclude products not derived directly from animals raised and slaughtered from the definition of 'beef' and meat.'"
"I think we are probably three or four big food safety scares away from everyone, especially younger generations, embracing lab-grown meat as like, 'Science is good; nature is dirty, and can kill you.'"
"I have this working hypothesis that if you look at the nation in 50-year spurts, we revolve back and forth between artisanal, all-natural food that's unadulterated and pure, and food that's empowered by science," Lee says. "Maybe we've only had one lap around the track on that, but I think we are probably three or four big food safety scares away from everyone, especially younger generations, embracing lab-grown meat as like, 'Science is good; nature is dirty, and can kill you.'"
Food culture goes beyond just the ingredients we know and love — it's also about how we interact with them, produce them, and expect them to taste and feel when we bite down. We accept a margin of difference among a fast food burger, a backyard burger from the grill, and a gourmet burger. Maybe someday we'll accept the difference between a burger created by killing a cow and a burger created by biopsying one.
Looking to the Future
Every time we engage with food, "we are enacting a ritual that binds us to the place we live and to those in our family, both living and dead," Wilson writes in Consider the Fork. "Such things are not easily shrugged off. Every time a new cooking technology has been introduced, however useful … it has been greeted in some quarters with hostility and protestations that the old ways were better and safer."
This is why it might be hard for a vegetarian mother to try her daughter's lab-grown shrimp, no matter how ethically it was produced or how awe-inspiring the invention is. Yet food cultures can and do change. "They're not these static things," says Benjamin Wurgaft, a historian whose book Meat Planet: Artificial Flesh and the Future of Food comes out this month. "The real tension seems to be between slow change and fast change."
In fact, the very definition of the word "meat" has never exclusively meant what the USCA wants it to mean. Before the 12th century, when it first appeared in Old English as "mete," it wasn't very specific at all and could be used to describe anything from "nourishment," to "food item," to "fodder," to "sustenance." By the 13th century it had been narrowed down to mean "flesh of warm-blooded animals killed and used as food." And yet the British mincemeat pie lives on as a sweet Christmas treat full of -- to the surprise of many non-Brits -- spiced, dried fruit. Since 1901, we've also used this word with ease as a general term for anything that's substantive -- as in, "the meat of the matter." There is room for yet more definitions to pile on.
"The conversation [about lab-ground meat] has changed remarkably in the last six years," Wurgaft says. "It has become a conversation about whether or not specific companies will bring a product to market, and that's a really different conversation than asking, 'Should we produce meat in the lab?'"
As part of the field research for his book, Wurgaft visited the Rijksmuseum Boerhaave, a Dutch museum that specializes in the history of science and medicine. It was 2015, and he was there to see an exhibit on the future of food. Just two years earlier, Mark Post had made that first lab-grown hamburger about a two-and-a-half hour drive south of the museum. When Wurgaft arrived, he found the novel invention, which Post had donated to the museum, already preserved and served up on a dinner plate, the whole outfit protected by plexiglass.
"They put this in the exhibit as if it were already part of the historical records, which to a historian looked really weird," Wurgaft says. "It looked like somebody taking the most recent supercomputer and putting it in a museum exhibit saying, 'This is the supercomputer that changed everything,' as if you were already 100 years in the future, looking back."
It seemed to symbolize an effort to codify a lab-grown hamburger as a matter of Dutch pride, perhaps someday occupying a place in people's hearts right next to the stroopwafel.
"Who's to say that we couldn't get a whole school of how to cook with lab-grown meat?"
Lee likes to imagine that part of the legacy of lab-grown meat, if it succeeds, will be to inspire entirely new fads in cooking -- a step beyond ones like the crab-filled avocado of the 1960s or the pesto of the 1980s in the U.S.
"[Lab-grown meat] is inherently going to be a different quality than anything we've done with an animal," he says. "Look at every cut [of meat] on the sphere today -- each requires a slightly different cooking method to optimize the flavor of that cut. Who's to say that we couldn't get a whole school of how to cook with lab-grown meat?"
At this point, most of us have no way of trying lab-grown meat. It remains exclusively available through sometimes gimmicky demos reserved for investors and the media. But Wurgaft says the stories we tell about this innovation, the articles we write, the films we make, and yes, even the museum exhibits we curate, all hold as much cultural significance as the product itself might someday.
Story by Big Think
We live in strange times, when the technology we depend on the most is also that which we fear the most. We celebrate cutting-edge achievements even as we recoil in fear at how they could be used to hurt us. From genetic engineering and AI to nuclear technology and nanobots, the list of awe-inspiring, fast-developing technologies is long.
However, this fear of the machine is not as new as it may seem. Technology has a longstanding alliance with power and the state. The dark side of human history can be told as a series of wars whose victors are often those with the most advanced technology. (There are exceptions, of course.) Science, and its technological offspring, follows the money.
This fear of the machine seems to be misplaced. The machine has no intent: only its maker does. The fear of the machine is, in essence, the fear we have of each other — of what we are capable of doing to one another.
How AI changes things
Sure, you would reply, but AI changes everything. With artificial intelligence, the machine itself will develop some sort of autonomy, however ill-defined. It will have a will of its own. And this will, if it reflects anything that seems human, will not be benevolent. With AI, the claim goes, the machine will somehow know what it must do to get rid of us. It will threaten us as a species.
Well, this fear is also not new. Mary Shelley wrote Frankenstein in 1818 to warn us of what science could do if it served the wrong calling. In the case of her novel, Dr. Frankenstein’s call was to win the battle against death — to reverse the course of nature. Granted, any cure of an illness interferes with the normal workings of nature, yet we are justly proud of having developed cures for our ailments, prolonging life and increasing its quality. Science can achieve nothing more noble. What messes things up is when the pursuit of good is confused with that of power. In this distorted scale, the more powerful the better. The ultimate goal is to be as powerful as gods — masters of time, of life and death.
Should countries create a World Mind Organization that controls the technologies that develop AI?
Back to AI, there is no doubt the technology will help us tremendously. We will have better medical diagnostics, better traffic control, better bridge designs, and better pedagogical animations to teach in the classroom and virtually. But we will also have better winnings in the stock market, better war strategies, and better soldiers and remote ways of killing. This grants real power to those who control the best technologies. It increases the take of the winners of wars — those fought with weapons, and those fought with money.
A story as old as civilization
The question is how to move forward. This is where things get interesting and complicated. We hear over and over again that there is an urgent need for safeguards, for controls and legislation to deal with the AI revolution. Great. But if these machines are essentially functioning in a semi-black box of self-teaching neural nets, how exactly are we going to make safeguards that are sure to remain effective? How are we to ensure that the AI, with its unlimited ability to gather data, will not come up with new ways to bypass our safeguards, the same way that people break into safes?
The second question is that of global control. As I wrote before, overseeing new technology is complex. Should countries create a World Mind Organization that controls the technologies that develop AI? If so, how do we organize this planet-wide governing board? Who should be a part of its governing structure? What mechanisms will ensure that governments and private companies do not secretly break the rules, especially when to do so would put the most advanced weapons in the hands of the rule breakers? They will need those, after all, if other actors break the rules as well.
As before, the countries with the best scientists and engineers will have a great advantage. A new international détente will emerge in the molds of the nuclear détente of the Cold War. Again, we will fear destructive technology falling into the wrong hands. This can happen easily. AI machines will not need to be built at an industrial scale, as nuclear capabilities were, and AI-based terrorism will be a force to reckon with.
So here we are, afraid of our own technology all over again.
What is missing from this picture? It continues to illustrate the same destructive pattern of greed and power that has defined so much of our civilization. The failure it shows is moral, and only we can change it. We define civilization by the accumulation of wealth, and this worldview is killing us. The project of civilization we invented has become self-cannibalizing. As long as we do not see this, and we keep on following the same route we have trodden for the past 10,000 years, it will be very hard to legislate the technology to come and to ensure such legislation is followed. Unless, of course, AI helps us become better humans, perhaps by teaching us how stupid we have been for so long. This sounds far-fetched, given who this AI will be serving. But one can always hope.
Interview with Jamie Metzl: We need a global OS upgrade
In this Q&A, leading technology and healthcare futurist Jamie Metzl discusses a range of topics and trend lines that will unfold over the next several decades: whether a version of Moore's Law applies to genetic technologies, the ethics of genetic engineering, the dangers of gene hacking, the end of sex, and much more.
Metzl is a member of the WHO expert advisory committee on human genome editing and the bestselling author of Hacking Darwin.
The conversation was lightly edited by Leaps.org for style and length.
In Hacking Darwin, you describe how we may modify the human body with CRISPR technologies, initially to obtain unsurpassed sports performance and then to enhance other human characteristics. What would such power over human biology mean for the future of our civilization?
After nearly four billion years of evolution, our one species suddenly has the increasing ability to read, write, and hack the code of life. This will have massive implications across the board, including in human health and reproduction, plant and animal agriculture, energy and advanced materials, and data storage and computing, just to name a few. My book Hacking Darwin: Genetic Engineering and the Future of Humanity primarly explored how we are currently deploying and will increasingly use our capabilities to transform human life in novel ways. My next book, The Great Biohack: Recasting Life in an Age of Revolutionary Technology, coming out in May 2024, will examine the broader implications for all of life on Earth.
We humans will, over time, use these technologies on ourselves to solve problems and eventually to enhance our capabilities. We need to be extremely conservative, cautious, and careful in doing so, but doing so will almost certainly be part of our future as a species.
In electronics, Moore's law is an established theory that computing power doubles every 18 months. Is there any parallel to be drawn with genetic technologies?
The increase in speed and decrease in costs of genome sequencing have progressed far faster than Moore’s law. It took thirteen years and cost about a billion dollars to sequence the first human genome. Today it takes just a few hours and can cost as little as a hundred dollars to do a far better job. In 2012, Jennifer Doudna and Emmanuel Charpentier published the basic science paper outlining the CRISPR-cas9 genome editing tool that would eventually win them the Nobel prize. Only six years later, the first CRISPR babies were born in China. If it feels like technology is moving ever-faster, that’s because it is.
Let's turn to the topic of aging. Do you think that the field of genetics will advance fast enough to eventually increase maximal lifespan for a child born this year? How about for a person who is currently age 50?
The science of aging is definitely real, but that doesn’t mean we will live forever. Aging is a biological process subject to human manipulation. Decades of animal research shows that. This does not mean we will live forever, but it does me we will be able to do more to expand our healthspans, the period of our lives where we are able to live most vigorously.
The first thing we need to do is make sure everyone on earth has access to the resources necessary to live up to their potential. I live in New York City, and I can take a ten minute subway ride to a neighborhood where the average lifespan is over a decade shorter than in mine. This is true within societies and between countries as well. Secondly, we all can live more like people in the Blue Zones, parts of the world where people live longer, on average, than the rest of us. They get regular exercise, eat healthy foods, have strong social connections, etc. Finally, we will all benefit, over time, from more scientific interventions to extend our healthspan. This may include small molecule drugs like metformin, rapamycin, and NAD+ boosters, blood serum infusions, and many other things.
Science fiction has depicted a future where we will never get sick again, stay young longer or become immortal. Assuming that any of this is remotely possible, should we be afraid of such changes, even if they seem positive in some regards, because we can’t understand the full implications at this point?
Not all of these promises will be realized in full, but we will use these technologies to help us live healthier, longer lives. We will never become immortal becasue nothing lasts forever. We will always get sick, even if the balance of diseases we face shifts over time, as it has always done. It is healthy, and absolutely necessary, that we feel both hope and fear about this future. If we only feel hope, we will blind ourselves to the very real potential downsides. If we only feel fear, we will deny ourselves the very meaningful benefits these technologies have the potential to provide.
A fascinating chapter in Hacking Darwin is entitled The End of Sex. And you see that as a good thing?
We humans will always be a sexually reproducing species, it’s just that we’ll reproduce increasingly less through the physical act of sex. We’re already seeing this with IVF. As the benefits of technology assisted reproduction increase relative to reproduction through the act of sex, many people will come to see assisted reproduction as a better way to reduce risk and, over time, possibly increase benefits. We’ll still have sex for all the other wonderful reasons we have it today, just less for reproduction. There will always be a critical place in our world for Italian romantics!
What are dangers of genetic hackers, perhaps especially if everyone’s DNA is eventually transcribed for medical purposes and available on the internet and in the cloud?
The sky is really the limit for how we can use gentic technologies to do things we may want, and the sky is also the limit for potential harms. It’s quite easy to imagine scenarios in which malevolent actors create synthetic pathogens designed to wreak havoc, or where people steal and abuse other people’s genetic information. It wouldn’t even need to be malevolent actors. Even well-intentioned researchers making unintended mistakes could cause real harm, as we may have seen with COVID-19 if, as appears likely to me, the pandemic stems for a research related incident]. That’s why we need strong governance and regulatory systems to optimize benefits and minimize potential harms. I was honored to have served on the World Health Organization Expert Advisory Committee on Human Genome Editing, were we developed a proposed framework for how this might best be achieved.
You foresee the equivalent of a genetic arms race between the world's most powerful countries. In what sense are genetic technologies similar to weapons?
Genetic technologies could be used to create incredibly powerful bioweapons or to build gene drives with the potential to crash entire ecosystems. That’s why thoughtful regulation is in order. Because the benefits of mastering and deploying these technologies are so great, there’s also a real danger of a genetics arms race. This could be extremely dangerous and will need to be prevented.
In your book, you express concern that states lacking Western conceptions of human rights are especially prone to misusing the science of genetics. Does this same concern apply to private companies? How much can we trust them to control and wield these technologies?
This is a conversation about science and technology but it’s really a conversation about values. If we don’t agree on what core values should be promoted, it will be nearly impossible to agree on what actions do and do not make sense. We need norms, laws, and values frameworks that apply to everyone, including governments, corporations, researchers, healthcare providers, DiY bio hobbyists, and everyone else.
We have co-evolved with our technology for a very long time. Many of our deepest beliefs have formed in that context and will continue to do so. But as we take for ourselves the powers we have attributed to our various gods, many of these beliefs will be challenged. We can not and must not jettison our beliefs in the face of technology, and must instead make sure our most cherished values guide the application of our most powerful technologies.
A conversation on international norms is in full swing in the field of AI, prompted by the release of ChatGPT4 earlier this year. Are there ways in which it’s inefficient, shortsighted or otherwise problematic for these discussions on gene technologies, AI and other advances to be occurring in silos? In addition to more specific guidelines, is there something to be gained from developing a universal set of norms and values that applies more broadly to all innovation?
AI is yet another technology where the potential to do great good is tied to the potential to inflict signifcant harm. It makes no sense that we tend to treat each technology on its own rather than looking at the entire category of challenges. For sure, we need to very rapidly ramp up our efforts with regard to AI norm-setting, regulations, and governance at all levels. But just doing that will be kind of like generating a flu vaccine for each individual flu strain. Far better to build a universal flu vaccine addressing common elements of all flu viruses of concern.
That’s why we also need to be far more deliberate in both building a global operating systems based around the mutual responsibilities of our global interdependence and, under that umbrella, a broader system for helping us govern and regulate revolutionary technologies. Such a process might begin with a large international conference, the equivalent of Rio 1992 for climate change, but then quickly work to establish and share best practices, help build parallel institutions in all countries so people and governamts can talk with each other, and do everything possible to maximize benefits and minimize risks at all levels in an ongoing and dynamic way.
At what point might genetic enhancements lead to a reclassfication of modified humans as another species?
We’ll still all be fellow humans for a very, very long time. We already have lots of variation between us. That is the essence of biology. Will some humans, at some point in the future, leave Earth and spend generations elsewhere? I believe so. In those new environments, humans will evolve, over time, differently than those if us who remain on this planet? This may sound like science fiction, but the sci-fi future is coming at us faster than most people realize.
Is the concept of human being changing?
Yes. It always has and always will.
Another big question raised in your book: what limits should we impose on the freedom to manipulate genetics?
Different societies will come to different conclusion on this critical question. I am sympathetic to the argument that people should have lots of say over their own bodies, which why I support abortion rights even though I recognize that an abortion can be a violent procedure. But it would be insane and self-defeating to say that individuals have an unlimited right to manipulate their own or their future children’s heritable genetics. The future of human life is all of our concern and must be regulated, albeit wisely.
In some cases, such as when we have the ability to prevent a deadly genetic disroder, it might be highly ethical to manipulate other human beings. In other circumstances, the genetic engineering of humans might be highly unethical. The key point is to avoid asking this question in a binary manner. We need to weigh the costs and benefits of each type of intervention. We need societal and global infrastrucutres to do that well. We don’t yet have those but we need them badly.
Can you tell us more about your next book?
The Great Biohack: Recasting Lifee in an Age of Revolutionary Technology, will come out in May 2024. It explores what the intersecting AI, genetics, and biotechnology revolutions will mean for the future of life on earth, including our healthcare, agriculture, industry, computing, and everything else. We are at a transitional moment for life on earth, equivalent to the dawn of agriculture, electricity, and industrialization. The key differentiator between better and worse outcomes is what we do today, at this early stage of this new transformation. The book describes what’s happening, what’s at stake, and what we each and all can and, frankly, must do to build the type of future we’d like to inhabit.
You’ve been a leader of international efforts calling for a full investigation into COVID-19 origins and are the founder of the global movement OneShared.World. What problem are you trying to solve through OneShared.World?
The biggest challenge we face today is the mismatch between the nature of our biggest problems, global and common, and the absence of a sufficient framework for addressing that entire category of challenges. The totally avoidable COVID-19 pandemic is one example of the extremet costs of the status quo. OneShared.World is our effort to fight for an upgrade in our world’s global operating system, based around the mutual responsibilities of interdependence. We’ve had global OS upgrades before after the Thirty Years War and after World War II, but wouldn’t it be better to make the necessary changes now to prevent a crisis of that level stemming from a nuclear war, ecosystem collapse, or deadlier synthetic biology pandemic rather than waiting until after? Revolutionary science is a global issue that must be wisely managed at every level if it is to be wisely managed at all.
How do we ensure that revolutionary technologies benefit humanity instead of undermining it?
That is the essential question. It’s why I’ve written Hacking Darwin, am writing The Great Biohack, and doing the rest of my work. If we want scietific revolutions to help, rather than hurt, us, we must all play a role building that future. This isn’t just a conversation about science, it’s about how we can draw on our most cherished values to guide the optimal development of science and technology for the common good. That must be everyone’s business.
Portions of this interview were first published in Grassia (Italy) and Zen Portugal.
Jamie Metzl is one of the world’s leading technology and healthcare futurists and author of the bestselling book, Hacking Darwin: Genetic Engineering and the Future of Humanity, which has been translated into 15 languages. In 2019, he was appointed to the World Health Organization expert advisory committee on human genome editing. Jamie is a faculty member of Singularity University and NextMed Health, a Senior Fellow of the Atlantic Council, and Founder and Chair of the global social movement, OneShared.World.
Called “the original COVID-19 whistleblower,” his pioneering role advocating for a full investigation into the origins of the COVID-19 pandemic has been featured in 60 Minutes, the New York Times, and most major media across the globe, and he was the lead witness in the first congressional hearings on this topic. Jamie previously served in the U.S. National Security Council, State Department, and Senate Foreign Relations Committee and with the United Nations in Cambodia. Jamie appears regularly on national and international media and his syndicated columns and other writing in science, technology, and global affairs are featured in publications around the world.
Jamie sits on advisory boards for multiple biotechnology and other companies and is Special Strategist to the WisdomTree BioRevolution Exchange Traded Fund. In addition to Hacking Darwin, he is author of a history of the Cambodian genocide, the historical novel The Depths of the Sea, and the genetics sci-fi thrillers Genesis Code and Eternal Sonata. His next book, The Great Biohack: Recasting Life in an age of Revolutionary Technology, will be published by Hachette in May 2024. Jamie holds a Ph.D. from Oxford, a law degree from Harvard, and an undergraduate degree from Brown and is an avid ironman triathlete and ultramarathon runner.