The past few years have seen a veritable flurry of renewed interest in the idea of bringing extinct species back into our world. Multiple books, articles, and even a few TED talks have been released, each approaching the topic from different angles, or focusing on different candidate species. One of the newest of these caught my attention, not only for its approach to the topic, but for the almost haunting art that graces its cover. Rise of the Necrofauna by Britt Wray, looks at de-extinction from perspectives that aren't heard as often in the ongoing discussion, and stands out from the others for that very reason.
Wray, a science communicator, is ideally suited to the task of writing a book like this. The science of resurrecting extinct species is there, of course, but written in a way that's understandable to a non-scientist like myself. The "how" of de-extinction is fascinating, however many obstacles and improbabilities still stand in the way of bringing back a mammoth or the passenger pigeon. The "why" of de-extinction is more fascinating still. Beyond the science are questions of philosophy, legality and morality. Wray speaks with many in the field who've thought about questions that might never have occurred to the average person. If a species is brought back from extinction and successfully reintroduced into the wild, would conservation law consider it an invasive species? Is it morally right to bring back a species and subsequently allow it to be hunted, even if allowing the hunting of a few individuals ensures the survival of the species? Even more fundamentally, is a species brought back from extinction truly the same species that went extinct in the first place? Given the scientific realities of possible methods of de-extinction, that last question is not an idle one. Some species often mentioned as ideal candidates for resurrection have poorly preserved DNA that would require modification. Other methods, like the efforts to bring back the long-extinct aurochs, the ancestor of domesticated cows, involves selective breeding of existing animals. In either case, the result of our efforts would look very much like the animal that went extinct, but it wouldn't truly be exactly the same.
Beyond that is the question of economics. Successful efforts to bring back even just one extinct species will require a lot of funding, and many years of effort. For that same commitment of time and money, some critics would argue, we could keep other species from sharing their fate. But this may well be a false dilemma. As Wray finds in her talks with researchers, some of the very same techniques that could one day see the woolly mammoth walk the tundra again could well be put to use in current and future efforts to conserve species still with us.
I have mixed feelings about the merits of resurrection, but at least some part of me ultimately sides with the author. In spite of my misgivings, a world where mammoths knock down trees in Siberia, preserving the permafrost, where the quagga again strides the savanna, is a tempting one. In some ways, I want to see that world again.
Wray, a science communicator, is ideally suited to the task of writing a book like this. The science of resurrecting extinct species is there, of course, but written in a way that's understandable to a non-scientist like myself. The "how" of de-extinction is fascinating, however many obstacles and improbabilities still stand in the way of bringing back a mammoth or the passenger pigeon. The "why" of de-extinction is more fascinating still. Beyond the science are questions of philosophy, legality and morality. Wray speaks with many in the field who've thought about questions that might never have occurred to the average person. If a species is brought back from extinction and successfully reintroduced into the wild, would conservation law consider it an invasive species? Is it morally right to bring back a species and subsequently allow it to be hunted, even if allowing the hunting of a few individuals ensures the survival of the species? Even more fundamentally, is a species brought back from extinction truly the same species that went extinct in the first place? Given the scientific realities of possible methods of de-extinction, that last question is not an idle one. Some species often mentioned as ideal candidates for resurrection have poorly preserved DNA that would require modification. Other methods, like the efforts to bring back the long-extinct aurochs, the ancestor of domesticated cows, involves selective breeding of existing animals. In either case, the result of our efforts would look very much like the animal that went extinct, but it wouldn't truly be exactly the same.
Beyond that is the question of economics. Successful efforts to bring back even just one extinct species will require a lot of funding, and many years of effort. For that same commitment of time and money, some critics would argue, we could keep other species from sharing their fate. But this may well be a false dilemma. As Wray finds in her talks with researchers, some of the very same techniques that could one day see the woolly mammoth walk the tundra again could well be put to use in current and future efforts to conserve species still with us.
I have mixed feelings about the merits of resurrection, but at least some part of me ultimately sides with the author. In spite of my misgivings, a world where mammoths knock down trees in Siberia, preserving the permafrost, where the quagga again strides the savanna, is a tempting one. In some ways, I want to see that world again.
I am 100% on board with bringing back the aurochs.
ReplyDeleteI actually found that to be one of the most interesting parts of the book - extinct species returned, no lab work involved!
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