Trespass: Genetic Engineering as the Final Conquest
Claire Hope Cummings
World Watch Magazine
January/February 2005
Hidden inside Hilgard Hall, one of the oldest building on the campus of the University of California at Berkeley, is a photograph that no one is supposed to see. Its a picture of a crippled and contorted corncob that was not created by nature, or even by agriculture, but by genetic engineering. The cob is kept in a plastic bin called the monster box, a collection of biological curiosities put together by someone who works in a secure biotechnology research facility.
What the photo shows is a cob that apparently started growing normally, then turned into another part of the corn plant, then returned to forming kernels, then went back to another formtwisting back and forth as if it could not make up its mind about what it was. It was produced by the same recombinant DNA technology that is used to create the genetically modified organisms (GMOs) that are in our everyday foods. When I saw this photo, I knew it was saying something very important about genetic engineering. I thought it should be published. But the person who owns it is frankly afraid of how the biotechnology industry might react, and would not agree. In order to get permission even to describe the photo for this article, I had to promise not to reveal its owners identity.
What the distorted corncob represents is a mute challenge to the industrys claim that this technology is precise, predictable, and safe. But that this challenge should be kept hidden, and that a scientist who works at a public university should feel too intimidated to discuss it openly, told me that something more than just a scientific question was being raised. After all, if the new agricultural biotech were really safe and effective, why would the industry work so hardas indeed it does to keep its critics cowed and the public uninformed? Was there something about the way genetic engineering was developed, about how it works, that was inviting a closer looka look that the industry would rather we not take? I had gone to Berkeley to see for myself what was going on behind biotechnology.
The University of California at Berkeley (Cal) is the stage on which much of the story of genetic engineering has played out over the last 25 years. The biotechnology industry was born here in the San Francisco Bay area, and nurtured by scientists who worked at Berkeley and nearby universities. Critical controversies over the role genetic engineering and related research should have in society have erupted here. Even the architecture of the campus reflects the major scientific and policy divisions that plague this technology. Two buildings, in particular, mirror the two very different versions of biology that emerged in the last half of the twentieth century, and reflect two very different visions for agriculture in the future.
Hilgard Hall was built in 1918, at a time when mastering the classical form and celebrating beauty were important, perhaps even integral, to the accepted function of a building. Hilgards facade is exquisitely decorated with friezes depicting sheaves of wheat, beehives, bunches of grapes, cornucopias, and bas relief sculptures of cow heads surrounded with wreaths of fruit. Above the entrance, carved in huge capital letters are the words, TO RESCUE FOR HUMAN SOCIETY THE NATIVE VALUES OF RURAL LIFE. The massive front door opens to a grand twostory hall graced with granite, marble, and carved brass. But behind that elegant entrance is a building left in disrepair. Getting around inside Hilgard means navigating worn marble staircases and dark corridors laced with exposed pipes and heating ducts. The room where the monster box photograph is kept is small and dank. This building is home to the old biologythe careful observation of life, living systems, and their complex interactions. Being inside Hilgard is a visceral lesson in how Cal is neglecting the classic study of the intimate inter-relationships among agriculture, the environment, and human society.
Nearby, and standing in stark contrast to Hilgard’s faded splendor, is a newer, modern office building, Koshland Hall. Koshland is not unattractive, with its pitched blue tile roof lines and bright white walls lined with blue steel windows, but it was built in the mid- 1990s in a functional style that, like most new campus buildings, has all the charm and poetry of an ice cube. The interior is clean and well lit. Next to office doors hang plaques that name the corporations or foundations that fund the activities inside. This is the home of the new biologythe utilitarian view that life is centered in DNA and molecules can be manipulated at will. Molecular biology is clearly doing well at Cal. Koshland Hall was named after a distinguished member of the faculty, Daniel Koshland, former editor of the journal Science and chair of Berkeleys Department of Biochemistry, now a professor emeritus. He has the unique distinction of having been present at the two most important scientific revolutions of our time: he participated both in the Manhattan Project, which developed nuclear weapons, and in the early development of molecular biology. He is credited with transforming the biological sciences at Berkeley.
(In accordance with Title 17 U.S.C. Section 107, this material is distributed without profit to those who have expressed a prior interest in receiving the included information for research and educational purposes.)
The entire article can be found at World Watch Magazine: January/ February 2005>World Watch Magazine: January/ February 2005>World Watch Magazine: January/ February 2005>
Posted by: Paul on April 26, 2005 at 19:28:56
