In a typical biology textbook, a species is defined as "a population or group of populations whose members have the potential to interbreed with one another in nature to produce viable, fertile offspring, but who cannot successfully interbreed with members of other species." Reproductive barriers keep species, genetically distinct, separate, and intact.

In 1974, The Viking Press published a series of essays written by Lewis Thomas for the New England Journal of Medicine as a book, The Lives of a Cell: Notes of a Biology Watcher. In one of these essays, Some Biomythology, Thomas writes about the universal appearance of "unbiologic" hybrid beasts in mythology, such as the Griffon, Centaur, and Sphinx, as a point of departure to introduce the reader to several symbiotic life forms found in nature. He contends that what is most alarming about these "fabulous beasts", is that they are mixtures of species, in fact, "they deny the existence of species." Thomas concludes his essay by stating that the meaning of his stories of nature’s symbionts may be similar to the purpose of medieval bestiaries. They provide a moral lesson. Though by definition, it is unbiologic, "There is a tendency for living things to join up, establish linkages, live inside each other, return to earlier arrangements, get along, whenever possible. This is the way of the world." Almost as an addendum, he then describes the technique of cell fusion, which creates in the laboratory petri dish, somatic cell hybrids of different species. This was a new technique at the time. To Thomas, "it is the most unbiologic of all phenomena" , "it denies the importance of specificity, integrity, and separateness in living things."

Twenty-seven years later, one can say the same thing about Noah, a guar created by scientists at Advanced Cell Technologies in Massachusetts by means of cross-species cloning. A nucleus was taken from the cell of a guar, an endangered ox-like species and was injected into the enucleated egg of a cow. This egg was stimulated to undergo several cell divisions in vitro and then was implanted into a surrogate cow to allow for its development. Noah died of natural causes, a bacterial infection, shortly after his birth (fig. 1) Photograph of the endagered ox-like species known as a gaur.

Noah is unbiologic. The technique that produced him goes beyond the creation of transgenic organisms; it utilizes the body of an organism as a vessel to propagate the entire genetic program of an organism of another species. In this way, cross-species cloning "denies the importance specificity, integrity, and separateness in living things", yet the lack of critical commentary in the news suggests that its okay (or its okay as long as humans genetic programs are not involved). Besides conservative journalist, Charles Krauthhammer’s response of horror at the creation of such cross species entities in an opinion piece for Time (Feb. 12, 2001) and some minimal discussion of the true value, if any, of this technique in preserving endangered species, there has only been reporting on the creation, birth and death of Noah as news items. It should be noted, however that scientists from Advanced Cell Technologies co-authored an article in Scientific American ("Cloning Noah’s Ark", November 2000) which describes the need for and virtues of cross-species cloning in order to save endangered species (fig. 2).

Of 4810 respondents to a MSNBC on-line poll on May 18, 2001, 72% stated that they thought endangered or extinct species should be cloned. Why this affirmation? An obvious reason is that we are a "green culture," anything deemed to be beneficial to preserving the environment is a good thing. Also, we consider animals to be our property. We may protect them, but we also breed them as commodities or companions. In any case, we are in control. There is evidence everywhere in popular culture that we believe our DNA, our genetic program, is preeminent in determining who we are. This might also explain the lack of criticism of cross-species cloning especially when considered in the context of the reductionist program advanced in genetics and molecular biology and its successful application in reproductive medicine. The use of bodies as vessels to propagate life forms resulting from particular genetic programs is an acceptable practice in science, medicine, and technology. As stated by a bioethicist on a recent edition of the television show, 60 Minutes focusing on human cloning, popular acceptance of techniques such as in vitro fertilization can be summarized as "a dish, a uterus, whatever."

It is not necessary to belabor the point that our "green culture" fosters support for cloning endangered species (by any means necessary) since most opinion polls demonstrate that protecting the environment is a high priority for the American public. Therefore, I will focus my arguments on the remaining reasons for the lack of criticism of cross-species cloning.

Humans began domesticating animals, approximately 12,000 years ago, Beginning with the dog, we have observed and then selectively bred animals for ages to serve us in a myriad of ways. Utilizing Mendel’s laws of heredity in breeding strategies, scientists have fashioned animals continually seeking to improve them for our use. The current employment of DNA technology and cloning procedures to design and breed utilitarian animals was the logical next step. The public can be easily convinced that using animals to propagate cloned endangered animals of another species is a useful, wise, and benevolent application of this technology.

To ensure the public’s acceptance of bio-engineered animals, scientists often resort to appealing to our natural attraction to domesticated animals. Unlike Dr. Frankenstein, who horrified by his creation, failed to name his monster. Today’s scientists (like Geppedo in Pinocchio) signal to us that their work is good, by naming their cloned creations with cute, harmless, toy like names- Dolly or meaningful ones symbolizing species salvation- Noah. Artists interested in imaging these processes and their implications often critically depict scientists’ attempts at rendering their creations benign and approachable. For example, artist, Eduardo Kac and geneticist, Louis-Marie Houdebine have produced a transgenic animal, GFP Rabbit who glows green in the dark. Named Alba by her creators, the rabbit resulted from the insertion of a green fluorescent gene from a Pacific Northwest jellyfish into the genome of an egg from a genetic albino mother. As described by Carol Becker in the Art Journal (Fall 2000), Kac intends to live with Alba in a galley context, where he will seek to "’normalize’ his relationship with her, constructing a domestic space where he and Alba will cohabitate …There, visitors will able to see the rabbit and observe her glow under a blue light." Ultimately, he plans for her to become a "member of his family". Kac’s endeavor plays with the notion that scientists successfully endear us to their bio-engineered creations. They can be named, domesticated; we can establish a relationship with them. They are cute; they can entertain us. They can remind us of "Glowworm", a children’s bedtime toy, popular in the 1980’s. They are accepted warmly into our culture.

Text and images depicting and promoting genetic essentialism surround us. Since the completion of the major DNA sequencing work of the Human Genome Project, the various messages have multiplied. Cartoons such as one which states "I’m not interested in genetically altered vegetables as I am in genetically altering my kids to eat them" ("Bizarro", Boston Herald, July 28, 2001), are common and convey that we believe we are genetically determined. The fact that genetic essentialism is now rooted in our belief system is demonstrated in the increased use of its message in commercial advertising. Its employment in selling hair care products (Physique) and peddling hope of genetic designer drugs (Bristol-Myers Squibb) are just two examples.

Public acceptance of this idea is demonstrated in its successful use in supporting political debate. The argument used to legally ban human cloning procedures for reproductive and therapeutic purposes in the United States is that it is morally wrong (and dangerous) to produce a genetic replica of an individual. The nature versus nurture debate seems to have been resolved. Proponents of the cloning ban conveniently ignore the role of the environment in shaping the development of an organism. In President Bush’s televised speech presenting his decision on federal funding for stem cell research (August 9, 2000), he too relied on genetic essentialism in his argument not to use embryos to produce new stem cell lines, "Like a snowflake, each of these embryos is unique, with the unique genetic potential of an individual human being." Therefore, Bush decided that it is immoral to destroy them in order to use their stem cells for therapeutic research. His reasoning is based on genetic essentialist thinking. The embryos are genetically distinct, potentially human. They are vessels bearing unique genetic programs.

In order to conserve a species, scientists need to successfully propagate its DNA. The general acceptance of using the body of one species to propagate a genetic clone of an animal of another species reflects the public acceptance of genetic essentialism. The intent of this work is the direct conservation of an animal’s DNA. As argued by scientist, Richard Dawkins, genes- molecules of DNA are the fundamental units of natural selection, the replicators; and organisms are just vehicles for the packaging of replicators.. The success of the replicators is based on their ability to build successful vehicles. The cross-species cloning technology allows the scientist to provide the successful vehicle for the propagation of a particular endangered genetic program establishing its preeminence in the formation of the species; determining that the identity of the body allowing for the formation is immaterial.

The acceptance of this relegation of the body to a less informative role in reproduction stems from our living with the technique of in vitro fertilization for over two decades. Fertilization of an egg by a sperm in a petri dish followed by the insertion of the resulting embryo into a natural or surrogate mother to produce a genetically distinct individual was immediately acceptable to scientists who for years had been studying the interactions of biomolecules and the physiology of cells in test tubes. This reductionist approach to studying life has been remarkably successful in rapidly advancing knowledge and technology in genetics and molecular biology. The expeditious completion of the sequencing of the human genome is just one example of the efficiency of reductionist strategies in science. Scientists, convinced of its value, readily applied reductionism to all areas of biology and medicine. After a while, the public also accepted such techniques as in vitro fertilization because of the obvious benefit it provided to infertile couples who desired genetically related children.

Taking the control of reproduction away from women and the use of surrogate mothers as incubators are now considered normal when necessary; reducing the body to role of a vessel- a non-informative container in the reproductive process. It is easy then for the public to transfer this thinking to the acceptance of the use of animal’s bodies in cross-species cloning. The animal’s body is no longer distinct and separate designating the integrity of a particular species. It is appropriated as a vessel to propagate and therefore conserve the genetic program of another, different, and endangered species.

In the Art Journal (Fall 2000), David Joselit writes that our bodies "have contracted to the microscopic dimension of DNA codes". He believes "that this condition has haunted art practices in which bodies manifest indeterminate and hybrid mixtures of genders, species, and machines." Bryan Crockett’s Ecce Homo (Paradise Now, Exit Art 2000) (fig. 3) is a representation of the oncomouse who was genetically engineered to have a human immune system for use in cancer research. According to Crockett, his representation of the man/mouse in marble and epoxy was "chosen to reinterpret the ultimate figure of salvation, Christ." By means of Hybrids (Paradise Now, Exit Art 2000), interactive digital prints of hybrid animals, Eva Sutton reminds us that because of the reductionist approach pioneered by molecular biologists we view and understand the human body as a system of components that can be manipulated.

Ecco Homo, Hybrids, Alba, and Noah are bestiaries created in artists’ studios and scientists’ labs. Some entertain and amaze us. Others symbolize salvation. We do learn from these stories. This biomythology informs us that the end justifies the means. Hybrid constructs-genes from one animal species, the body as vessel from another- though unbiologic, are useful, benign, and acceptable. There is no slippery slope here; it awaits the first step of genetically constructed, cloned humans.

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