Manipulating genes to create fluorescent jellyrabbit is bad move

Someday soon, you might come home to a fluorescent pet.

The latest move in the continuing push to own a distinctive pet comes to us from
Chicago, by way of France. Eduardo Kac, an assistant professor at the Chicago School
of Art Institute, has managed to annoy both scientists and animal-rights activists with
his latest creation: a living, breathing rabbit genetically engineered to glow.

What follows is exceedingly silly, but it gets serious eventually.

The story began a few years ago, when Kac became interested in using genetic
materials to make art. He started out with theoretical projects, including designing an
imaginary gene with DNA sequenced to spell out Bible quotes in Morse code.

It gets worse.

At some point, Kac found out about the work of Dr. Woodland Hastings of Harvard
University, who had done some serious scientific research on genetic material from
deep-sea jellyfish. As you probably remember from junior high science class, a lot of
deep-sea creatures have the ability to glow, making it easier for them to navigate in the
dark depths of the ocean.

Hastings helped identify the gene that causes fluorescence. This made it possible to
make copies and insert them into other organisms. This has serious applications; it can
be used, for example, to make cancerous tumors glow, allowing doctors to find them
earlier.

Somehow, Kac convinced some agricultural researchers in France to insert these
jellyfish genes into a rabbit embryo. Pretty soon they had a fluorescent green rabbit.
Kac called it ``transgenic art'' and named his new pet Alba.

When Hastings found out about Alba in September, he said, ``There's nothing
dangerous about it, as far as we know. But the project is rather frivolous. There are
more important things you can do with these genes.''

As you might expect, news of the jellyrabbit upset animal-rights activists in Europe as
well as the United States. Kac pointed out, accurately, that breeders have been
manipulating rabbit genes for centuries. ``Humans have determined the evolution of
rabbits for at least 1,400 years,'' he said. The amazing variety of rabbits displayed each
summer at county fairs are a testament to the ability of old-fashioned breeders to create
creatures not found in nature.

This is even more obvious with more traditional pets, especially cats and dogs. Afghans,
Airedales and Akitas all descend from common ancestors that looked nothing like
them.

Most folks have some sort of opinion about genetic engineering. Personally, I think it's
the greatest medical advance since Pasteur discovered that germs cause disease. Most
of the publicity on gene splicing focuses on efforts to cure disease or improve
agriculture, but Alba the jellyrabbit demonstrates that certain types of people will insist
on using it for less noble means. Kac feels that Alba is a work of art, and I suspect that
breeders of exotics pets feel the same way about their odd-looking creations.

I, however, question the artistic taste of someone who would use genetic manipulation
to create an odd-looking animal instead of trying to make it healthier and happier.

The jellyrabbit demonstrates something important, something not generally recognized
by the public. A few years ago, it took a highly trained scientist to do genetic
engineering. That's no longer true.

In August, I attended a training seminar at Caltech, where members of the faculty spent
some time teaching a group of journalists about emerging scientific fields. They had us
spend one day in the biology labs, where we were taught to take human DNA, slice it
into pieces, and make copies of whatever part we wanted.

There's nothing to it. The lab assistant who monitored us to prevent mistakes was the
professor's 14-year-old daughter, who was already an old hand at molecular biology.

The technology has advanced so much that manipulating genes is easier than
programming a VCR. On the Internet, you can find everything you need to do it in your
kitchen with easily obtained chemicals and equipment.

So? When technology gets this easy, it invites people like Kac to come up with this
kind of harebrained nonsense. Don't be surprised if your local Wal-Mart starts to sell
roses the size of sunflowers, dogs the size of mice, or cats the color of canaries.

I may not know much about art, but I know what I don't like.

http://www.startext.net/news/doc/1047/1:BPAGE26A/1:BPAGE26A1016100.html

© 2000 Star-Telegram, Fort Worth, Texas

Monday, Oct. 16, 2000 at 09:11 CDT


Researchers manipulate genes to create a rabbit that glows

By Jim Quinn
Knight Ridder Newspapers

Someday soon, you might come home to a fluorescent pet.

The latest move in the continuing push to own a distinctive pet comes to us from Chicago, by way of France.
Eduardo Kac, an assistant professor at the Chicago School of Art Institute, has managed to annoy both scientists
and animal-rights activists with his latest creation: a living, breathing rabbit genetically engineered to glow.

What follows is exceedingly silly, but it gets serious eventually.

The story began a few years ago, when Kac became interested in using genetic materials to make art. He started
out with theoretical projects, including designing an imaginary gene with DNA sequenced to spell out Bible
quotes in Morse code.

It gets worse.

At some point, Kac found out about the work of Dr. Woodland Hastings of Harvard University, who had done
some serious scientific research on genetic material from deep-sea jellyfish. As you probably remember from
junior high science class, a lot of deep-sea creatures have the ability to glow, making it easier for them to
navigate in the dark depths of the ocean.

Hastings helped identify the gene that causes fluorescence. This made it possible to make copies and insert them
into other organisms. This has serious applications; it can be used, for example, to make cancerous tumors glow,
allowing doctors to find them earlier.

Somehow, Kac convinced some agricultural researchers in France to insert these jellyfish genes into a rabbit
embryo. Pretty soon they had a fluorescent green rabbit. Kac called it "transgenic art" and named his new pet
Alba.

When Hastings found out about Alba in September, he said, "There's nothing dangerous about it, as far as we
know. But the project is rather frivolous. There are more important things you can do with these genes."

As you might expect, news of the jellyrabbit upset animal-rights activists in Europe as well as the United States.
Kac pointed out, accurately, that breeders have been manipulating rabbit genes for centuries. "Humans have
determined the evolution of rabbits for at least 1,400 years," he said. The amazing variety of rabbits displayed
each summer at county fairs are a testament to the ability of old-fashioned breeders to create creatures not found in
nature.

This is even more obvious with more traditional pets, especially cats and dogs. Afghans, Airedales and Akitas all
descend from common ancestors that looked nothing like them.

Most folks have some sort of opinion about genetic engineering. Personally, I think it's the greatest medical
advance since Pasteur discovered that germs cause disease. Most of the publicity on gene splicing focuses on
efforts to cure disease or improve agriculture, but Alba the jellyrabbit demonstrates that certain types of people
will insist on using it for less noble means. Kac feels that Alba is a work of art, and I suspect that breeders of
exotics pets feel the same way about their odd-looking creations.

I, however, question the artistic taste of someone who would use genetic manipulation to create an odd-looking
animal instead of trying to make it healthier and happier.

The jellyrabbit demonstrates something important, something not generally recognized by the public. A few years
ago, it took a highly trained scientist to do genetic engineering. That's no longer true.

In August, I attended a training seminar at Caltech, where members of the faculty spent some time teaching a
group of journalists about emerging scientific fields. They had us spend one day in the biology labs, where we
were taught to take human DNA, slice it into pieces, and make copies of whatever part we wanted.

There's nothing to it. The lab assistant who monitored us to prevent mistakes was the professor's 14-year-old
daughter, who was already an old hand at molecular biology.

The technology has advanced so much that manipulating genes is easier than programming a VCR. On the
Internet, you can find everything you need to do it in your kitchen with easily obtained chemicals and equipment.

So? When technology gets this easy, it invites people like Kac to come up with this kind of harebrained
nonsense. Don't be surprised if your local Wal-Mart starts to sell roses the size of sunflowers, dogs the size of
mice, or cats the color of canaries.

I may not know much about art, but I know what I don't like.

2000, Akron Beacon Journal (Akron, Ohio).

Visit Akron Beacon Journal Online at http://www.ohio.com/.

Distributed by Knight Ridder/Tribune Information Services.

Distributed by The Associated Press (AP)

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