Colossal did not wind up participating in the de-introgression project. But the company is doing work on the red wolf that vonHoldt views as complementary: Its scientists are assembling a “pangenome” of North American canids by studying samples pulled from museums, universities, zoos, and other institutions. This data set is expected to clarify both what genetic sequences are shared across the entire canid family and what snippets differ in certain populations. The hope is that this will provide a clearer picture of the red wolf in its early days, before the coyotes arrived and the gene pool narrowed. That might shift what Colossal’s James calls the government’s arbitrary definition of the red wolf, to encompass more of the species’ full former diversity.
The pangenome, then, might allow vonHoldt’s de-introgressed canids, descended from the Gulf coast canids, to qualify as actual red wolves. Indeed, James suggested to me that more information about historic red wolves might force the government to take a new look at the Gulf Coast canids; some individuals might have high enough red wolf ancestry to be classified as red wolves. (“That has management implications that terrify state and federal government,” he added.)
TRISTAN SPINSKI
The purpose of vonHoldt’s de-introgression project is to bring back certain lost red wolf genes—to create a whole new wolf lineage. But she has also pushed against the idea of “genetic purity,” which she thinks limits what we protect with conservation laws; she told me emphasizing it reminds her of the human history of eugenics and “makes every part of my soul hurt.” She cares less about what species are out there, in the landscape, than what ecological function the animals play, and she sees coyotes and red wolves as closely related animals that may have a role to play in one another’s future survival.
As for Colossal’s clones, even vonHoldt seems to describe them as something less than a conservation breakthrough. They are a “proof of principle that we, collectively, as a scientific community, know how to do it,” she told me. If an urgent need arises to clone red wolves, the groundwork has been laid.
Hinton, meanwhile, is one of several scientists I spoke with who were skeptical Colossal was doing good science, given that so much is conducted behind closed doors. He implied that the clones were nothing but an empty showpiece, a way to earn headlines and attract funders. “The work is anything but symbolic,” James responded via e-mail. “It expands the genetic toolkit available for critically endangered species, demonstrates scalable approaches to biodiversity restoration, and contributes directly to preserving imperiled lineages.” He noted that Colossal had intentionally decided to avoid the “snail’s pace” of the peer review process and suggested that the skepticism from scientists may actually be a “panicked response to being outpaced.”
Until some evidence confirms that the Gulf Coast canids—the source material for the clones—are red wolves, they can’t legally be classified as such for federal conservation purposes. Nonetheless, Colossal’s press release claimed that the company had “birthed two litters of cloned red wolves, the most critically endangered wolf in the world.” On the same day that press release dropped, Colossal’s CEO and cofounder, Ben Lamm, appeared on The Joe Rogan Experience and claimed that he had offered to create hundreds of red wolves for the federal government to use in recovery—for free! He was miffed when the government, under the Biden administration, replied that it wanted to spend several years and many millions of dollars to study the potential for cloning before it would take any action. (The company has gotten more traction with the Trump administration, Lamm said.)
Stephan is the sports journalist for the Maple Grove Report.
