By Charles Seibert, New York Times
Newer biotechnologies, such as the completion of the mapping of the human genome and other developments that the Roslin Institute scientists in Scotland anticipated when they announced, in February 1997, the first cloned sheep. Dolly's appearance prompted nightmare scenarios about human clones and headless people being cloned for organ transplants. But so far, all we've gotten is a healthy discussion of the potential uses of cloning technology, and interesting new members of the farmyard - Polly and Molly, for example - transgenic sheep, whose genetic code has been implanted with a human gene that produces proteins that help fight human diseases.
Although it seems as if Dolly's time has passed, she has already become an icon. When her life comes to an end (the average lifespan of sheep is 13-12 years), she will have a kind of eternal life: her stuffed animal will be displayed in the Museum of Scotland in Edinburgh. I, on the other hand, wanted to see in reality the curly harbinger of what many consider humanity's greatest potential and many others consider our worst aberration.
And so I found myself led to Dolly's barn, guided by the deputy director of the Roslyn Institute, Harry Griffin. Behind the institute's offices we approached a row of apartments arranged in a semicircle. Near it, a small herd of sheep was being led to pasture. I asked Griffin if he could point to Dolly.
"Yes," he answered. "Dolly is the sheep that makes the loudest noise, and she is also the one who approaches the cameras the fastest. There is currently an embargo on visits to Dolly," continued Griffin, "but you have already come all the way here."
He opened the barn door. In the first cell, covered with hay, lay her Dolly, with that happy sheepish look on her face. Two tiny patches peeked out from under her, blinking. "I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't make the fact of their existence a headline in your article," Griffin said, almost in a whisper. "We will be attacked by hordes of photographers." I stood still, trying to focus my attention on the purpose of my journey; Trying, rather absurdly, to find in Dolly's distant gaze a trace of our shared genetic baggage. "Pretty boring, huh?" Griffin said as he closed the barn door. "Life of a sheep".
Thousands of kilometers for 10 seconds with a sheep, and yet I felt I had been hired. Dolly reminds us of what we really are: outcasts from the biology we share with all other creatures. The most threatening truth of biotechnology - more threatening than all the dangers apparently inherent in it - is that we are an inseparable part of nature and at the same time so separated from it. Dolly reminds us that only we are endowed with the ability - some see it as a blessing and some see it as a curse - to look at other animals, call them names, lead them to pasture, and now even change them. Dolly and the genome project complete an amazing historical connection, in which we went from awe-filled observers of nature to its creators full of concerns.
(Originally published on 24.9)
New York Times
{Appeared in Haaretz newspaper, 3/10/2000{
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