From Decoding to Designing: a Kōrero around Synthetic Biology in Conservation

What happens if conserving nature means changing it? This question sat at the centre of the 9 July Speaker Series @ Tūranga event, a conversation between University of Canterbury Professors Tammy Steeves and Jack Heinemann. Rather than debating whether science is “for” or “against” synthetic biology, the speakers explored the messier space of uncertainty, risk, and decision-making. 

Steeves began by clarifying the terms involved in the discussion. Synthetic biology refers to the process of applying engineering principles to build new parts or systems in a living organism. It can involve introducing entirely new genetic components or reconstructing genetic variation that has been lost from a population. Genome editing is the predominant technique used in synthetic biology, and results in the creation of genetically modified organisms. In the hands of skilled practitioners, it can be used to make specific changes in existing genes or even insert genes from other species. In a conservation context, this could look like recovering alleles (different versions of a gene) from museum specimens or recently lost populations. By introducing these alleles back into the population, scientists could increase the species’ genetic diversity. Professor Steeves described gene editing as a field which has shifted “from decoding to designing” biology. 

Much of Professor Steeves’s discussion focused on the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN), where she is a member of the Species Survival Commission. The IUCN has been examining the use of synthetic biology since 2016, through expert working groups, policy drafts, and public consultation. This process eventually produced Motion 87, which, if passed, could open the ability to create frameworks or guidelines for the use of synthetic biology in conservation. 

Steeves supported the motion - not because she thought that every application was safe, but because she believed that the motion created space for informed discussion. She argued that conservation decisions are highly contextual. Technology might have different implications depending on the species, ecosystem, and social setting in which it is used. Motion 87 was therefore framed around case-by-case assessment rather than blanket approval. She said, “As scientists, we can sit in the sea of grey between black and white and have really good conversations.” 

Heinemann approached the issue from a different perspective. Working with the Convention on Biological Diversity, he is accustomed to the “uncomfortable” intersection of science, government, and international policy. He challenged the idea that science always produces a single consensus, arguing that scientists are also part of society and can reasonably disagree about both evidence and values. 

This became particularly important in the debate between Motion 87 and Motion 133. Motion 133 proposed a moratorium on the environmental release of organisms, products, and components created through genetic engineering and synthetic biology, including gene drive organisms and gene-silencing technologies. 

The technology that drew the most attention was the gene drive. Under normal Mendelian inheritance (think of your high school classroom and Punnett squares!), a gene has roughly a 50% chance of being passed to offspring. A gene drive uses tools such as CRISPR-Cas9 to bias inheritance so that the altered gene is inherited far more frequently, allowing the modified gene to spread rapidly through a population. In theory, this could be used to suppress pest species by producing single-sex offspring, or by spreading infertility. 

Heinemann questioned whether the ecological consequences of these technologies can be predicted, particularly in microorganisms capable of horizontal gene transfer. As a microbiologist himself, Heinemann is all too aware of how unpredictably microorganisms can spread their genetic material. He is not convinced that enough caution is being taken in regard to the impacts of synthetic biology across the entire biological spectrum. 

He also raised the question of trust. Commercially valuable technologies can create incentives for scientists, corporations, and governments. They may be incentivised to frame evidence in ways that serve particular interests, especially when uncertainty exists. He questioned whether decisions about environmental release should be left to those who are competing for intellectual property and commercial outcomes. 

Returning to the policy discussion, an important nuance was that the IUCN itself has no legal power. Its influence is often described as soft power: governments may use its guidance when developing policy and legislation. In the final vote, Motion 87 was passed, while Motion 133 narrowly failed by a single government vote. 

What made the evening memorable was the willingness of two experts to disagree publicly while still engaging seriously with each other’s arguments. Both acknowledged that “science walks close to uncertainty” and that conservation decisions cannot be separated from the values of the society they exist within. As Professor Heinemann put it, “reasonable people can reasonably agree or disagree.” 

To the audience, this sentiment felt like the most distinctive takeaway. We were challenged to consider who gets to decide what risks are acceptable and how society should navigate technologies that may offer powerful new tools for conservation while also carrying consequences we may not yet fully understand. 

Join us for our next free Speaker Series talk at Tūranga, How to Watch a Horror Film, featuring another University of Canterbury academic, Dr Erin Harrington.  

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