Note that unilaterally using gene drives in this way is usually considered a really bad idea because of poisoning the well against further use. Not just by usual conservative bioethics types, but by the scientist who first proposed using CRISPR to affect wild populations like mosquitos: “Esvelt, whose work helped pave the way for Target Malaria’s efforts, is terrified, simply terrified, of a backlash between now and then that could derail it. This is hardly a theoretical concern. In 2002, anti-GMO hysteria led the government of Zambia to reject 35,000 tons of food aid in the middle of a famine out of fear it could be genetically modified. Esvelt knows that the CRISPR gene drive is a tool of overwhelming power. If used well, it could save millions of lives, help rescue endangered species, even make life better for farm animals.
If used poorly, gene drives could cause social harms that are difficult to reverse. What if gene drives get a bad rap? What if an irresponsible scientist moves too fast and prompts a strong political countermovement, like that which has stymied other genetically modified organisms since the 1990s? What if an irresponsible journalist — let’s call him Dylan Matthews — writes a bad article that misconstrues the issue and sends the project off the rails?
“To the extent that you or I say something or publish something that reduces the chance that African nations will choose to work with Target Malaria by 1 percent, thereby causing a 1 percent chance that project will be delayed by a decade, the expected cost of our action is 25,000 children dead of malaria,” Esvelt tells me. “That’s a lot of kids.””
I know that might be a problem, but I asked for other ideas that have at least a 5% chance of saving a lot of people, even if they are bad in expectation. The hope is that they can somehow be modified into good ones, and I still don’t know whether that’s the case for gene drives. When I get enough free time, I’ll try to ask the researchers.
Note that unilaterally using gene drives in this way is usually considered a really bad idea because of poisoning the well against further use. Not just by usual conservative bioethics types, but by the scientist who first proposed using CRISPR to affect wild populations like mosquitos:
“Esvelt, whose work helped pave the way for Target Malaria’s efforts, is terrified, simply terrified, of a backlash between now and then that could derail it. This is hardly a theoretical concern. In 2002, anti-GMO hysteria led the government of Zambia to reject 35,000 tons of food aid in the middle of a famine out of fear it could be genetically modified. Esvelt knows that the CRISPR gene drive is a tool of overwhelming power. If used well, it could save millions of lives, help rescue endangered species, even make life better for farm animals.
If used poorly, gene drives could cause social harms that are difficult to reverse. What if gene drives get a bad rap? What if an irresponsible scientist moves too fast and prompts a strong political countermovement, like that which has stymied other genetically modified organisms since the 1990s? What if an irresponsible journalist — let’s call him Dylan Matthews — writes a bad article that misconstrues the issue and sends the project off the rails?
“To the extent that you or I say something or publish something that reduces the chance that African nations will choose to work with Target Malaria by 1 percent, thereby causing a 1 percent chance that project will be delayed by a decade, the expected cost of our action is 25,000 children dead of malaria,” Esvelt tells me. “That’s a lot of kids.””
I know that might be a problem, but I asked for other ideas that have at least a 5% chance of saving a lot of people, even if they are bad in expectation. The hope is that they can somehow be modified into good ones, and I still don’t know whether that’s the case for gene drives. When I get enough free time, I’ll try to ask the researchers.