Those Dire Wolves Aren't an Amazing Scientific Breakthrough. They're a Disturbing Symbol of Where We're Heading.

Yahoo10-04-2025

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On Monday, the biotechnology company Colossal Biosciences revealed, with much fanfare, that they have created a trio of white wolf hybrids. Named Romulus, Remus, and Khaleesi, these wolves, Colossal says, were created by making 20 edits on 14 gray wolf genes. These were used to generate hybrid cell lines that were placed in donor eggs, carried to term by domestic dogs. Four pups were born, one of which died. The surviving three now run around a 2,000-acre private facility in the United States where they are 'continuously monitored.' It seems that the wolves may never know life outside some kind of confinement.
The company calls these creatures dire wolves, claiming to have brought the species Aenocyon dirus back from extinction. Exactly what Colossal accomplished, however, is opaque. The private company did not publish a scientific, peer-reviewed paper along with its media blitz—there was a flurry of credulous articles that I'm sure you've seen on your news feeds—though they promise that a paper is coming next week. A spokesperson told Slate on Wednesday afternoon that the paper has been submitted for peer review, and a preprint version 'is being submitted' and should be posted in a day or two. For now, we have precious little to go on outside of the company's own claims.
So, did Colossal actually de-extinct a long lost species? Well, the dire wolf is in the details.
First, dire wolves and gray wolves, like the ones whose genes Colossal modified, evolved independently from each other over millions of years, though the exact degree to which they are related might depend on whom you ask. In 2021 a multidisciplinary group of researchers found that fossil dire wolves, like those found by the thousands in L.A.'s La Brea asphalt seep, were not closely related to the wolves that roam our planet today. Dire wolves appeared to be descendants of an older line of canids (the larger family that includes everything from domestic dogs to foxes) that split off from other canids about 5 million years ago. Though they are genetically closer to jackals, they convergently evolved to resemble gray wolves. The skeletal resemblance can be close enough that even experts sometimes have difficulty properly identifying a dire wolf fossil from a prehistoric gray wolf one. When dire wolves went extinct about 10,000 years ago, gray wolves became more numerous and expanded to fill the niches dire wolves left open.
That's the current thinking, anyway—as with anything in science, new evidence can change things. Now, Colossal's own researchers have claimed to journalists that their research has again adjusted the picture, proposing that dire wolves arose from interbreeding between two different wolf lineages between 2.5 million and 3.5 million years ago. This would put them a bit closer to gray wolves. It will be useful to see their reasoning for this shift outlined in a scientific paper, in a format where their techniques can be critiqued by other experts, which is a crucial part of scientific research. But even so, it's hard to imagine that even a 'mere' 2.5 million years of evolutionary change can be captured by 20 gene edits. (According to a statement from Colossal Biosciences sent to Slate, the company aimed 'to resurrect the key traits that defined dire wolves.' Its team stopped at 20 edits'[b]ecause we didn't need more' and because every edit poses some risk to the goal of birthing a health animal.)
Then there's the Biology 101 fact that an organism is not just its genome. Even if Colossal did make a wolf with a complete Aenocyon dirus genome, those genes would not dictate every choice and every behavior of the creatures they belonged to. The reality is that genes interact with environments, and organisms emerge from the interplay from the two. We know from the fossil record that dire wolves were social creatures, but we're too late to observe exactly how each generation of pups learned skills from the one before it. Romulus, Remus, and Khaleesi do not have dire wolf parents to learn from—and we have absolutely no way of knowing whether they are truly behaving like dire wolves at all.
Also, it doesn't necessarily make sense that these wolf pups have snowy white coats! It can easily go unquestioned that a wolf alive in the Ice Age would have a snowy coat, but the fact is that real dire wolves ranged widely and often lived in habitats, like prehistoric La Brea, that were warmer and more shrubby than snowy. After all, the pups of gray wolves—which Colossal suggests are nearly identical genetically to dire wolves—are often born with darker, brown coats that shift as they age. We don't know for sure what color dire wolves were. Neither does Colossal. The discovery of a dire wolf mummy could help settle the uncertainty—Ice Age gray wolf pups have been found before, so it's a possibility—but such a fossil has not been uncovered yet.
What we're really looking at, it seems, are gray wolves modified to be dire wolves of George R.R. Martin's books rather than living, breathing replicas of the actual prehistoric carnivores that hunted bison, horses, camels, and baby mammoths in packs during the Pleistocene. They look like the animal actors on the HBO adaptation of Game of Thrones. Given that Martin is both an investor in and adviser to Colossal, it feels awfully convenient that the company is heavily promoting wolves that are the spitting image of those in his fantasy series. The canids might be 'dire wolves' in the fictional sense, but they are not literally dire wolves. Romulus, Remus, and Khaleesi are, at best, a shaky hypothesis of what dire wolves might have looked like. As creatures that were created by modifying modern organisms, and who live in modern times, they are untethered from the evolutionary history embodied by the real dire wolves who now rest in the fossil record. Sure, Colossal has, perhaps, done something here. But Colossal's wolves are not dire wolves, and they never will be. 'As one of our founders stated, 'this is the moon landing of synthetic biology,' ' Colossal told Slate in a statement. But the fact is that gene editing can't reconnect the social lives and ecological roles of animals that have been extinct for thousands of years. Trying to 'bring back' dire wolves by modifying gray wolves is like saying you can reach the moon if you jump really high on a trampoline. Maybe you can get an inch closer than you could before. Maybe you can put the trampoline on a platform, too. But you'll never arrive.
To put it another way, Colossal's dire wolves are like Tesla's disastrous Cybertruck. I don't think it's a coincidence that the co-founder of Colossal is a billionaire. Someone rich felt a pang of nostalgia and made a demand. The infamous and ugly Cybertruck was inspired by video game vehicles. Colossal's wolves are prestige TV creatures. This kind of thinking is everywhere: Blue Origin is sending Katy Perry way high up into the sky, a stunt to help sell a sci-fi daydream of one day taking a bus to Moon. This isn't progress; it's a bunch of toys. Meanwhile, the government is actively gutting science and health agencies, and firing people who do the challenging and often-unglamourous work that research involves—not for personal glory and a shiny press treatment, but simply to advance knowledge and make the world better for the humans and creatures who already live here. Careful and painstaking conservation work, such as the work restoring wood bison herds to Alaska, is overlooked in favor of designer species given meme-sprinkled promo reels.
Facts, as we have bitterly learned over the past two decades, count for little right now. Colossal's very questionable marketing of its genetic tinkering has already prompted Donald Trump's oil-friendly Secretary of the Interior Doug Burgum to insinuate that the endangered species list will be a thing of the past if we can just refresh and resurrect species at will. '[T]he status quo is focused on regulation more than innovation,' he posted on X. To say Colossal is the future of conservation is to task the offensively wealthy with deciding the future of life on Earth. Any number of environmental injuries and insults can be justified if we believe that everything can be placed back how it was with a little innovation. Looking at Colossal's wolves, I don't even feel a 'wow' moment like Ellie Sattler had spotting an InGen-made Brachiosaurus in Jurassic Park. I hurt for these wolves, creatures wholly unaware that they were created to be trophies.

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Opinion - Endangered species deserve a home, too

Yahoo

an hour ago

Yahoo

Opinion - Endangered species deserve a home, too

The elusive Northern Spotted Owl. The majestic Whooping Crane. Charismatic Florida panthers and beloved Monarch butterflies. These and many other endangered species now face even graver threats in the wake of two recent developments in the world of conservation. On Apr. 7, the billion-dollar biotech firm Colossal announced the 'de-extinction' of the dire wolf, a canine species that vanished in the Late Pleistocene (approximately 13,000 years ago). And on Apr. 17, the Trump administration revealed its intention to weaken decades-old endangered species protections by redefining a key word: harm. This narrower definition effectively rescinds protection of an endangered species' habitat, limiting harm to actions that 'directly' harass, injure or kill organisms. What these two developments have in common is a disregard for the vital connection that exists between species and the places they call home. Habitat refers to the place where an organism naturally or normally lives. Removal of habitat protection opens the door to logging, development and extraction of oil and minerals. The proposed definition of harm could convert fragile wetlands into farmland, migration corridors into freeways and nesting sites into beachfront property — and none of this would qualify as harm to the creatures who live there. A habitat includes the specific resources and conditions that a given species needs to survive — the plants or animals it feeds on, and particular features of topography, soil, climate and water. Some species are especially vulnerable to extinction because they require a very rare or specific type of habitat. Others are at risk because they range across several. Many butterfly species, for example, are reliant on a single host plant for every stage of their life cycle — mating, laying eggs and feeding their young. Even plants closely related to the host plant cannot replace these vital functions, however indistinguishable they may appear to the human eye. Migratory creatures, meanwhile, depend upon many habitats in far-flung geographic locations. A recent study found that approximately half of all migratory species are in decline. Annually, billions of migratory birds crisscross state and national boundaries, with varying degrees of legal protections for the places where they nest, feed or rest. Further erosion of habitat protection could be the death knell for these and other vulnerable species. Were species not so intimately tied to their environments, it might make sense to regard lab-created or genetically engineered organisms, like the recently unveiled dire wolves, as suitable replacements for endangered or extinct species. Conservation would be akin to curating museum or zoo specimens, with living representatives of endangered species, or mere samples of their genetic material, maintained in artificial environments. Disregard for the importance of habitat is evident in the fanfare over Colossal's so-called dire wolves — more accurately, grey wolves with dire wolf DNA spliced into their genome. Consider that in their original Pleistocene environments, true dire wolves preyed upon large herbivorous megafauna that are now extinct: sloths, mastodons, giant bison and camels. By contrast, Remus, Romulus and Khaleesi, the telegenic trio of fluffy white wolves created by Colossal, will live their entire lives in a highly secured, undisclosed site, subsisting on a hand-fed diet of ground meats and kibble. In short, the same flawed logic lies behind the dire wolf 'de-extinction' and the Trump proposal to redefine harm: Both treat species as if they live in a vacuum. Doug Burgum, the Trump-appointed secretary of the Interior, exemplified this sort of thinking when he took to social media to hail de-extinction as the 'bedrock' of future conservation, arguing simultaneously for re-think of endangered species protections: 'It has been innovation—not regulation—that has spawned American greatness,' he said. Citing Colossal's breakthrough, Burgum questioned the need for an endangered species list. Ten days later, the administration moved to weaken endangered species regulation by excluding habitat from the definition of harm. Yet, habitat loss remains the primary culprit of species endangerment and extinction. While these losses can occur naturally through periodic events like fires or earthquakes, the vast majority of habitat degradation, fragmentation and loss stems from human activity: land development, deforestation, large-scale agriculture, air and water pollution, and human-caused climate change, among other factors. Even amid intensified political polarization, endangered species protection is wildly popular, with 84 percent of Americans supporting the Endangered Species Act. In the past month, some 350,000 members of the public weighed in to protest changes to the act. Many offered the commonsense argument that destroying the home of any living being, human or nonhuman, clearly constitutes harm, as surely as a gun pointed to the head. Innovation in conservation science, including cutting-edge genetic techniques aimed at saving species on the brink of extinction, is welcome and should be encouraged. But innovation is no substitute for regulation, any more than a laboratory or zoo is a substitute for the places where animals naturally live. Endangered species face a barrage of threats from human activities. We owe them a place to call home. Lisa H. Sideris is a Public Voices fellow of The OpEd Project and the University of California. Santa Barbara, where she is professor and vice-chair of the Environmental Studies Program. Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.

The Hill

4 hours ago

The Hill

Endangered species deserve a home, too

Beyond de-extinction and dire wolves, gene editing can help today's endangered species

Yahoo

2 days ago

Yahoo

Beyond de-extinction and dire wolves, gene editing can help today's endangered species

Have you been hearing about the dire wolf lately? Maybe you saw a massive white wolf on the cover of Time magazine or a photo of 'Game of Thrones' author George R.R. Martin holding a puppy named after a character from his books. The dire wolf, a large, wolflike species that went extinct about 12,000 years ago, has been in the news after biotech company Colossal claimed to have resurrected it using cloning and gene-editing technologies. Colossal calls itself a 'de-extinction' company. The very concept of de-extinction is a lightning rod for criticism. There are broad accusations of playing God or messing with nature, as well as more focused objections that contemporary de-extinction tools create poor imitations rather than truly resurrected species. While the biological and philosophical debates are interesting, the legal ramifications for endangered species conservation are of paramount importance. As a legal scholar with a Ph.D. in wildlife genetics, my work focuses on how we legally define the term 'endangered species.' The use of biotechnology for conservation, whether for de-extinction or genetic augmentation of existing species, promises solutions to otherwise intractable problems. But it needs to work in harmony with both the letter and purpose of the laws governing biodiversity conservation. What did Colossal actually do? Scientists extracted and sequenced DNA from Ice Age-era bones to understand the genetic makeup of the dire wolf. They were able to piece together around 90% of a complete dire wolf genome. While the gray wolf and the dire wolf are separated by a few million years of evolution, they share over 99.5% of their genomes. The scientists scanned the recovered dire wolf sequences for specific genes that they believed were responsible for the physical and ecological differences between dire wolves and other species of canids, including genes related to body size and coat color. CRISPR gene-editing technology allows scientists to make specific changes in the DNA of an organism. The Colossal team used CRISPR to make 20 changes in 14 different genes in a modern gray wolf cell before implanting the embryo into a surrogate mother. While the technology on display is marvelous, what should we call the resulting animals? Some commentators argue that the animals are just modified gray wolves. They point out that it would take far more than 20 edits to bridge the gap left by millions of years of evolution. For instance, that 0.5% of the genome that doesn't match in the two species represents over 12 million base pair differences. More philosophically, perhaps, other skeptics argue that a species is more than a collection of genes devoid of environmental, ecological or evolutionary context. Colossal, on the other hand, maintains that it is in the 'functional de-extinction' game. The company acknowledges it isn't making a perfect dire wolf copy. Instead it wants to recreate something that looks and acts like the dire wolf of old. It prefers the 'if it looks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, it's a duck' school of speciation. Disagreements about taxonomy – the science of naming and categorizing living organisms – are as old as the field itself. Biologists are notorious for failing to adopt a single clear definition of 'species,' and there are dozens of competing definitions in the biological literature. Biologists can afford to be flexible and imprecise when the stakes are merely a conversational misunderstanding. Lawyers and policymakers, on the other hand, do not have that luxury. In the United States, the Endangered Species Act is the main tool for protecting biodiversity. To be protected by the act, an organism must be a member of an endangered or threatened species. Some of the most contentious ESA issues are definitional, such as whether the listed species is a valid 'species' and whether individual organisms, especially hybrids, are members of the listed species. Colossal's functional species concept is anathema to the Endangered Species Act. It shrinks the value of a species down to the way it looks or the way it functions. When passing the act, however, Congress made clear that species were to be valued for their 'aesthetic, ecological, educational, historical, recreational, and scientific value to the Nation and its people.' In my view, the myopic focus on function seems to miss the point. Despite its insistence otherwise, Colossal's definitional sleight of hand has opened the door to arguments that people should reduce conservation funding or protections for currently imperiled species. Why spend the money to protect a critter and its habitat when, according to Interior Secretary Doug Burgum, you can just 'pick your favorite species and call up Colossal'? Biotechnology can provide real conservation benefits for today's endangered species. I suggest gene editing's real value is not in recreating facsimiles of long-extinct species like dire wolves, but instead using it to recover ones in trouble now. Projects, by both Colossal and other groups, are underway around the world to help endangered species develop disease resistance or evolve to tolerate a warmer world. Other projects use gene editing to reintroduce genetic variation into populations where genetic diversity has been lost. For example, Colossal has also announced that it has cloned a red wolf. Unlike the dire wolf, the red wolf is not extinct, though it came extremely close. After decades of conservation efforts, there are about a dozen red wolves in the wild in the reintroduced population in eastern North Carolina, as well as a few hundred red wolves in captivity. The entire population of red wolves, both wild and captive, descends from merely 14 founders of the captive breeding program. This limited heritage means the species has lost a significant amount of the genetic diversity that would help it continue to evolve and adapt. In order to reintroduce some of that missing genetic diversity, you'd need to find genetic material from red wolves outside the managed population. Right now that would require stored tissue samples from animals that lived before the captive breeding program was established or rediscovering a 'lost' population in the wild. Recently, researchers discovered that coyotes along the Texas Gulf Coast possess a sizable percentage of red wolf-derived DNA in their genomes. Hybridization between coyotes and red wolves is both a threat to red wolves and a natural part of their evolutionary history, complicating management. The red wolf genes found within these coyotes do present a possible source of genetic material that biotechnology could harness to help the captive breeding population if the legal hurdles can be managed. This coyote population was Colossal's source for its cloned 'ghost' red wolf. Even this announcement is marred by definitional confusion. Due to its hybrid nature, the animal Colossal cloned is likely not legally considered a red wolf at all. Under the Endangered Species Act, hybrid organisms are typically not protected. So by cloning one of these animals, Colossal likely sidestepped the need for ESA permits. It will almost certainly run into resistance if it attempts to breed these 'ghost wolves' into the current red wolf captive breeding program that has spent decades trying to minimize hybridization. How much to value genetic 'purity' versus genetic diversity in managed species still proves an extraordinarily difficult question, even without the legal uncertainty. Biotechnology could never solve every conservation problem – especially habitat destruction. The ability to make 'functional' copies of a species certainly does not lessen the urgency to respond to biodiversity loss, nor does it reduce human beings' moral culpability. But to adequately respond to the ever-worsening biodiversity crisis, conservationists will need all available tools. This article is republished from The Conversation, a nonprofit, independent news organization bringing you facts and trustworthy analysis to help you make sense of our complex world. It was written by: Alex Erwin, Florida International University Read more: If it looks like a dire wolf, is it a dire wolf? How to define a species is a scientific and philosophical question How redefining just one word could strip the Endangered Species Act's ability to protect vital habitat One green sea turtle can contain the equivalent of 10 ping pong balls in plastic Alex Erwin does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.