In 2018, Chinese scientist He Jiankui announced to the world that he had created the first genetically modified babies. Twin girls. He altered their DNA while they were still embryos to make them resistant to HIV. The global scientific community responded not with applause, but with unanimous condemnation. He got three years in prison. And I sat there thinking: why? After all, he used a technology that can save lives. A technology that won a Nobel Prize in 2020.
It turned out that between «can do this» and «should do this» lies a chasm the size of eternity. And today, we're going to take a peek inside.
When scissors cut the future
Let's start with how this magic actually works. CRISPR isn't just another medical technology. It is literally a tool for editing genetic code. Imagine your DNA is a massive book containing instructions for building you. Four billion letters, and even a single typo can lead to serious problems. Until recently, fixing that typo was practically impossible. Gene therapy existed, but it was crude, imprecise, and dangerous.
CRISPR changed everything. This technology works like «find and replace» in a text editor. We take a special enzyme called Cas9 – these are our molecular scissors. We add a guide RNA – that's the GPS navigator telling the scissors exactly where to cut. And voilà: we can cut out the «wrong» section of DNA and insert the «right» one. Precise, fast, and relatively cheap.
I remember reading about this for the first time in 2015 and thinking: «This is straight-up sci-fi». Sickle cell anemia? Fixable. Cystic fibrosis? Theoretically, yes. Cancer? We might be able to edit immune cells to better recognize tumors. The future looked dazzlingly bright.
And then I started digging deeper. And the light dimmed.
The story of how I almost fell for simple solutions
A few years ago, I was talking to a geneticist friend. He works in a lab researching CRISPR's potential for treating hereditary diseases. I asked him point-blank: «If you had a child at risk of a serious genetic disorder, would you use this technology»?
He stayed silent. For a long time. Then he said: «Mark, that isn't a question you can answer with a 'yes' or 'no'».
He explained it like this: imagine you're editing an embryo's DNA. You fix a gene that causes, say, muscular dystrophy. Sounds wonderful, right? But here's the problem: those changes won't just go into the muscle cells. They will go into every cell in the body. Including the reproductive cells. And that means your changes will be passed down to that child's children. And their children's children. And so on, until the end of time.
You aren't just curing one person. You are altering the genetic lineage of humanity. Forever.
And that is where things get interesting.
Dilemma One: Where do we draw the line?
Let's say we agree: editing genes to treat severe hereditary diseases is okay. Cystic fibrosis is a terrible thing, no one wants their child to suffer. Huntington's disease – same deal. It all makes sense.
But what about a predisposition to type 2 diabetes? That affects quality of life too. Or a tendency toward depression? Or nearsightedness? Or short stature? Or small breast size? Or an eye color the parents don't like?
Do you see where I'm going with this? The line between «treatment» and «enhancement» is so blurred it practically doesn't exist. And every society, every culture will draw that line in a different place. In Scandinavia, they might decide that only fatal diseases can be edited. In the US, where medicine is a business, clinics will start offering «upgrade» packages for an extra fee. In China, judging by the He Jiankui story, they might move faster than Western countries can even discuss the ethical questions.
I conducted a little experiment in my circle of friends. I asked them: «If you could guarantee your future child would be fifteen centimeters taller, would you do it»? A third said «yes» without hesitation. Another third said: «No, that's wrong». The final third admitted they didn't know – but if everyone else was doing it, they would have to as well, so their child wouldn't be at a disadvantage.
That last answer scared me the most. Because it shows how quickly an «option» turns into a «necessity». How choice becomes an arms race.
Dilemma Two: Who decides for the unborn?
Here's what really keeps me up at night. When parents edit an embryo's DNA, they are making a decision for a person who doesn't even exist yet. A person who cannot give consent. Who cannot say: «No thanks, I'm willing to risk it and be born with my own genes».
We're used to parents making decisions for children. That's normal. But usually, those decisions concern the here and now. Do we vaccinate? Which school to pick? Can you have sweets before dinner? These are decisions with consequences we more or less understand.
Gene editing is completely different. We are changing the very biological foundation of a human being. And we're doing it while our understanding of genetics is still primitive. Yes, we know what the CFTR gene does – it's linked to cystic fibrosis. But most traits are determined not by a single gene, but by complex interactions of dozens and hundreds of genes. Plus environmental influence. Plus factors we don't even suspect exist.
I remember being told about sickle cell anemia at university. It's a genetic blood disorder, quite nasty. But here's the paradox: people with one copy of the «defective» gene are more resistant to malaria. Evolution kept this gene in populations living in high-risk malaria regions because the benefit outweighed the harm. Now imagine: we mass-«correct» this gene. Then, a generation later, the climate changes, malaria spreads to new territories. And the people we «improved» turn out to be more vulnerable.
This isn't paranoia. It's the realization that we are playing a game where we don't fully know the rules.
Dilemma Three: Genetic inequality is already here
And now, let's talk about money. Because no matter how much we want to believe in the nobility of science, in the real world, everything comes down to who can pay.
Right now, the procedure for embryo gene editing costs hundreds of thousands of pounds. Maybe in ten years, it will drop to a few tens of thousands. That is still a huge amount of money. Money that not everyone has.
Picture the world thirty years from now. The children of wealthy parents – with edited genes. Without predispositions to common diseases. Perhaps with enhanced cognitive abilities (if we figure out how to do that by then). Taller. Healthier. Maybe even more attractive by generally accepted standards.
And right next to them – children from ordinary families. With ordinary genes. With all the risks that the natural DNA lottery entails.
This isn't just social inequality anymore. This is biological inequality. Inequality encoded at the DNA level. And here is the scary part: it's hereditary.
We are used to the poor and rich going to different schools, living in different neighborhoods, having different access to healthcare. But theoretically, a child from a poor family can, with luck and grit, break through to the top. Because biologically, they are the same. But what happens when that ceases to be true? When the difference lies not just in opportunities, but in the biological potential itself?
I know I sound like a character from a dystopian novel. But history shows: when a technology appears that offers an advantage, the rich get access to it first. Always. And genetic editing will be no exception.
Dilemma Four: Unforeseen consequences
My geneticist friend told me another story. In his lab, they tried to edit a gene linked to Alzheimer's disease in mice. The procedure was a success. The mice really did become less susceptible to neurodegenerative changes. Hurray!
But then it turned out that these same mice had a significantly reduced ability to learn at a young age. The gene they «fixed», it turns out, played a crucial role in forming neural connections. Evolution, as always, was trickier than it seemed.
This is called pleiotropy – when one gene affects several traits simultaneously. And this is the norm, not the exception. Practically every gene in our body is a multitasker. By editing one trait, we inevitably affect others. It's not always clear exactly which ones.
There are subtler risks too. Let's say we learn to edit genes linked to intelligence (this is a hypothetical scenario because intelligence is actually the result of hundreds of genes plus the environment). And parents start «upgrading» their children en masse. Sounds great.
But what if, a couple of generations later, it turns out we've accidentally reduced humanity's genetic diversity? That by removing certain gene variations, we've made the entire population more vulnerable to some new disease? Or to environmental changes?
Genetic diversity isn't a bug, it's a feature. It is what allows a species to survive in changing conditions. When everyone becomes «optimized» to current standards, we lose flexibility. We become vulnerable to things we cannot predict.
The story that won't let me go
When I was researching this topic, I stumbled upon an interview with one of those twin girls created by He Jiankui. Or rather, with their guardians, because the girls were only a few years old at the time. They said the girls are healthy. That the gene changes didn't seem to cause any negative effects.
But here is what haunts me: these children will live with this brand their whole lives. They are the first genetically modified humans. As they grow up, every illness, every health issue will be viewed through the lens that «something was done» to their genes. Every achievement will be explained by genetic editing. Every failure – the same.
They didn't ask for this. Their parents likely wanted the best – to protect them from HIV. But instead, they made their children eternal guinea pigs. Objects of scientific curiosity and public debate.
And this is another dilemma rarely spoken of: the right to a normal life. The right to be just a human, not an experiment.
What do we do with this knowledge?
I spent months talking to geneticists, bioethicists, doctors. I read studies. I tried to find a simple answer. Should we use CRISPR to edit embryos or not?
And you know what? There is no simple answer.
There are people suffering from genetic diseases. Who watch their children suffer. For them, gene editing technology isn't an abstract ethical dilemma. It is hope. And I cannot, I have no right to tell them: «No, you shouldn't do this because there are theoretical risks for future generations».
But I also see how quickly «treatment» turns into «enhancement». How a technology created to fight disease can become a tool for reinforcing inequality. How the desire to «help» one's child can trigger a genetic arms race where everyone is forced to participate just to keep up.
It seems to me the problem is that we are trying to find a universal solution. «Yes» or «no». «Allow» or «ban». But reality is more complex. It requires a balance between several values: parental autonomy, the rights of future children, societal justice, safety, and scientific progress.
Three things we can do right now
After all these reflections, I arrived at a few conclusions. Not final answers – but starting points.
First: open discussion. This is too important to leave the decision solely to scientists or politicians. Each of us is a potential parent, a potential patient, a part of the society these technologies will change. We must talk about this. Ask uncomfortable questions. Refuse to settle for simple answers.
Second: strict regulation with the possibility of revision. We need international agreements on what is permissible and what isn't. But these rules shouldn't be carved in stone. As we learn more about genetics and the consequences of editing, the rules must adapt. It is a balance between caution and progress.
Third: accessibility. If we decide that gene editing for specific medical purposes is acceptable, then access to this technology must not depend on the size of a bank account. Otherwise, we simply legalize the biological division of society into castes.
A finale that isn't a finale
I started this investigation thinking I'd find a clear answer. That I could say: this way is right, and that way is wrong. But the deeper I dug, the more I realized: there are no right answers here. There are only the best possible trade-offs.
CRISPR technology is neither good nor evil. It is a tool. An incredibly powerful tool that we acquired before we learned the wisdom needed to use it. It's like handing a child a box of matches. Matches can provide warmth, cook food, save a life on a cold night. Or they can burn the house down to the ground.
We stand on the threshold of an era where, for the first time in history, we can direct our own evolution. It is dizzying. And it is terrifying. Because every decision we make will have consequences we won't see today or tomorrow, but generations from now.
He Jiankui opened Pandora's box. And now we can't pretend it doesn't exist. We can only decide how to live with it. Carefully. Thoughtfully. Remembering that every edited gene isn't just a line of code. It is a part of the story we are writing for all of humanity.
And this story is only just beginning. Your brain might tell you that all complex problems must have simple solutions. But in the case of gene editing, that is an illusion. There are no simple solutions here. There is only a conscious choice between imperfect options.
And that, perhaps, is the only thing we can be certain of.
