Just a couple of biopunks

I saw—with shut eyes, but acute mental vision—I saw the pale student of unhallowed arts kneeling beside the thing he had put together. I saw the hideous phantasm of a man stretched out, and then, on the working of some powerful engine, show signs of life and stir with an uneasy, half-vital motion. Frightful must it be, for supremely frightful would be the effect of any human endeavor to mock the stupendous mechanism of the Creator of the world.

- Mary Shelley in her Author’s Introduction to the 1831 edition of Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus (1818)

Your scientists were so preoccupied with whether they could, they didn’t stop to think if they should.

- Ian Malcolm, writer Michael Crichton’s author avatar in Jurassic Park (1993)

Biopunks take responsibility for their research. We keep in mind that our subjects of interest are living organisms worthy of respect and good treatment, and we are acutely aware that our research has the potential to affect those around us. But we reject outright the admonishments of the precautionary principle, which is nothing more than a paternalistic attempt to silence researchers by inspiring fear of the unknown.

- A Biopunk Manifesto (Meredith L. Patterson, 2010)

Orphan Black

The term biopunk may be unfamiliar to mainstream audiences. However, if you’ve watched films like Jurassic Park or Prometheus, TV shows like Orphan Black or Westworld, or even animation targetting children like Pokemon: The First Movie or Batman Beyond, then you already have a vague idea of what this subgenre is all about.

When the term “biopunk” was first recorded in the English-speaking world in the early 1990s1, it was already a popular vernacular in anarchist, hacker, and spec-fic subcultures. Like “cyberpunk,” the originator of the sci-fi punk subgenres, it is thought to be a portmanteau of either "biology" or "biotechnology" and "punk," the first word denoting the general aesthetic and themes and the latter the anti-establishment bent and hard-edge. Initially, “biopunk” denoted a sociopolitical movement, and the subgenre of science fiction intended to represent it. This biopunk movement was built off the ethos of underground anarcho-tech circles of the 1980s and 90s that had started with promoting “cyberpunk.” DIY biologists had, by this time, formed a loose network that included scholars, legal experts, activists, and artists with an anti-corporate slant. It pushed back against the developments occurring in biotech that were not being shared openly with the public. Likewise, as a subgenre of science fiction, it had a similar agenda. Biopunk fiction focused on synthetic biology, usually biotechnology, and its implications on our day-to-day lives and the future of humanity.

In a 1990 article in New Scientist, molecular biologist Sylvan Katz set off the alarm on what he called “biohackers,” (i.e., those who leverage the information about genetics at their disposal to work on DIY experiments in their private laboratories). He correctly predicted these “biohackers” would emerge in the next decade or so, and his anxieties about them posing serious regulatory challenges were shared by the establishment. The term “biopunk” was later used by mainstream publications in the 1990s and early 2000s to denote biotech research outside the scientific establishment. An association would be made in the media between biopunks and biohackers. It had a negative connotation, implying some sort of reckless, if not outright malicious, agenda with biotech. This is why in mainstream examples of biopunk, biopunks tended to be visionaries—characters whose imaginations were ignited when the human genome was finally sequenced; they indulged in creative genetic engineering, RNA research, cloning, and protein synthesis for the betterment of humankind—only for all of it to go too far.

This phenomenon in media and entertainment has had an impact on biotech. Where biopunks in the real world advocate for the ethical democratization of research in synthetic biology and careful experimentation with it, the mainstream subgenre of speculative fiction that initially purported to represent it has negatively shaped the public perception of biotech over the last few decades. Often sensationalizing or misinterpreting the real science emerging from research into synthetic biology, mainstream biopunk has left the public with a negative attitude toward the field.

INSPIRATIONS FOR BIOPUNK

Biopunk writers have pointed to many inspirations over the years. However, two works have influenced biopunk writers more than any other and have set the template for the standard biopunk story seen in mainstream works like Splice and Bioshock. These were literary novels rooted in genres outside of science fiction that used sci-fi elements to illustrate a point on human nature but inadvertently changed the public’s perception of the scientific establishment forever.

In the 19th century, the United Kingdom witnessed the Industrial Revolution, an era of rapid growth fueled by unprecedented scientific advancement contrasted against societal decay. This sparked anxiety in writers, who were concerned about what all this unchecked scientific inquiry was doing to the world. During this era, narratives on the evils of science and technology were common. Mary Shelly’s Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus (1818), a gothic horror novel, was created in this milieu during a friendly competition to write the best ghost story. Inspired by stories of mad alchemists, it introduced the story template of a mad scientist tampering with powers outside of the mortal domain, only for it all to end in tragedy for him. Frankenstein's enduring popularity meant Shelly’s perception of scientific inquiry into the natural world (i.e., a blasphemous endeavor that can only end in disaster) had become the de-facto template for stories tackling the changes and uncertainties introduced by cutting-edge tech in the 20th century. It should not come as a surprise then that a word used by critics for genetically modified produce, ‘Frankenfood,’ was first recorded in a letter to the New York Times published in 19922.

The next major inspiration for biopunk writers would come a century later in the form of Aldous Huxley’s novel Brave New World. It was released in 1932 against the backdrop of Fordism and the rise of Fascism. Being one of the earliest and most influential examples of dystopian fiction, Huxley explores a society where behavioral conditioning through genetic engineering, sex and drugs, perfunctory activities, and mindless entertainment control human behavior and maintain social stability. At its core is a cautionary tale about sacrificing our individuality for societal order. However, Brave New World’s depiction of biotechnology as one of the means of implementing societal control gone wrong would inadvertently prove to be one of its most influential innovations in speculative fiction, and it would become the other core theme of mainstream biopunk.

BIOPUNK IN THE MAINSTREAM

“The Cool Issue” of Rolling Stone, published in April 2002, would become a litmus test of how far biopunk had come by that point. Citing a list of examples such as James Cameron’s Dark Angel and writers Jeff Noon, Paul Di Filippo, Octavia E. Butler, and Michael Marshall Smith, the article on biopunk promised that the genre would be the new speculative scene of this era. Following up the last two decades of cyberpunk, we would now be dealing with “biotechnology and hacking the gene pool.” The reason biopunk was now entering the mainstream after being around for more than two decades is that, by the late 1990s, the field of synthetic biology (specifically, genetic engineering), as opposed to computer science, became the site of the most radical scientific progress in the public imagination. The public perception of this was brought about by popular headlines of a string of breakthroughs in the field, like cloning (i.e., Dolly), transgenic experimentation (i.e., the “earmouse”), and the deciphering of the human genome, its mapping, and publication (1999-2001). Now that genetic engineering was at the center of the public debate on science, biopunk became the interest of mainstream artists. However, instead of providing a creative exploration of the technoscientific possibilities of advancements in biotech, mainstream biopunk stories ended up as fearmongering propaganda leveraging the template set by Frankenstein, Brave New World, and their imitators.

The 1990s and 2000s witnessed a slew of mainstream fiction and cinema tackling the subject in this mold, which began to tamper with the public’s perception of what synthetic biologists were up to. Michael Crichton’s Jurassic Park (1990) was the first mainstream biopunk work to find popular success, especially after its acclaimed film adaptation three years later. The film adaptation was so successful it grossed $914 million worldwide in its initial theatrical run, becoming the highest-grossing film of all time up to that point (without being adjusted for inflation) and launching a multibillion-dollar franchise with numerous sequels, adaptations, and spin-offs, and in 2018 was even selected for preservation in the National Film Registry by the Library of Congress. Despite its popular success, Jurassic Park is known in media circles that deal with science communication for being used as a mouthpiece for its author’s troubling views on science and the establishment around it. Ian Malcolm, the author avatar in Michael Crichton’s best-selling Jurassic Park, even goes as far as to question scientific inquiry itself, asking: “What’s so great about discovery?” when used to justify the research behind the dinosaur-themed amusement park. “It’s a violent, penetrative act that scars what it explores. What you call discovery, I call the rape of the natural world.” In an interview with The Independent years later, Crichton later explained that he had chosen the Jurassic Park scenario because it was one of the least plausible. He was aware that writing a realistic science fiction horror around biotech would have disastrous real-world implications: "When I wrote Jurassic Park, the people I knew who were actually involved in biotechnology actually told me some stories that scared the Jesus out of me … They weren't about dinosaurs. They were talking about lines of research they had decided they would not follow because they were too dangerous. If I wanted to make a scary story, I can make a couple of scenarios that are much more likely than Jurassic Park and a lot more horrific. I just don't want to put that stuff out there."

And he was not alone. Worries about Jurassic Park’s influence on biotech progress had been expressed even before the film adaptation was released. In her article “Who’s Afraid of Jurassic Park? Biotech Ought to Be,” journalist Joan O'C. Hamilton tried to warn the biotech industry to take the misinformation spread by the media and entertainment industries seriously and devise a proper PR response, to no avail:

Even before its release, this well-hyped movie has anti-biotech activists in a tizzy. Volunteers from the Pure Food Campaign, led by Washington biotech foe Jeremy Rifkin, plan to picket theaters in 100 U.S. cities. Their flyers feature a dinosaur pushing a grocery basket labeled ‘Bio-tech Frankenfoods.’ Their message: ‘Corporate science’ can alter and create life forms with "enormous and frightening" possibilities.

Given the high visibility the movie and Rifkin-inflamed fears are bound to get, you'd think the industry would be working on a staunch defense. No such luck. The public is too intelligent to mix up what's going on in corporate laboratories with the film's Toyota-chomping Tyrannosaurus rexes, one biotech PR executive opined at a recent conference. Another said he didn't care what the public says about biotech--as long as it talks about it.

This complacency has a few of biotech's savvier spinmeisters shaking their heads. Jurassic Park's dark message--that powerful science leads to disaster--will be ‘the most massive exposure to genetic engineering this country has ever had,’ warns New York public-relations consultant Lisa Burns. Burns worries that controversy will ensnare her firm's three dozen biotech clients, none of whom, she admits, seems to have given it a second thought. "It's Star Wars technology [with] the immediacy of Jaws," Burns says. ‘People will worry.’

If biotech blows it with Jurassic Park, it won't be its first PR flub. Again and again, the nearly two-decade-old business has responded to controversy with: ‘Trust us, we're scientists.’

In light of the success of the franchise, similar works tackling biotech, a wave of fiction (e.g., Margret Atwood’s The MaddAddam Trilogy, Kazuo Ishiguro’s Never Let Me Go, etc.), films (e.g., Resident Evil, Splice, Rise of the Planet of the Apes, etc.), and video games (e.g., Parasite Eve, Bioshock, Prey, etc.)) were released to an eager public. Like Jurassic Park, they tackled the subject for general audiences outside of the niche science fiction readership. Often, these stories had a heavy dose of sensationalism and unprofessionalism in how scientists and governments conducted themselves, which would be impossible to find in similar contexts in the real world. The fear-mongering narrative in much of it appealed to audiences who were curious about the subjects but were not informed about where the science was at the time or how research and application were performed. Margret Atwood even said that her trilogy was a reflection of her anxieties about these developments: “We’ve just opened the great big gene-splicing toy box, and people are going to be playing with that for years,” even though her academic background is limited to English literature and similar interdisciplinary field.

Andrew Niccol’s Gattaca may not have been a box office success when it was first released in 1997, but it was critically acclaimed, and the cult following it developed as a result led it to have an undue influence on the public’s perception of human genetic engineering. The film explores a future society where genetic engineering creates a class-based system. It raises questions about the consequences of positive eugenics and the impact on individuals who are deemed genetically inferior. This classist depiction of genetic discrimination was, of course, inspired by Brave New World. Even back in a 1997 review of the film for the journal Nature Genetics, molecular biologist Lee M. Silver wrote that, "Gattaca is a film that all geneticists should see if for no other reason than to understand the perception of our trade held by so many of the public-at-large.” Bioethicist James Hughes was even concerned about the influence of the film years after its release, criticizing its premise in his book Citizen Cyborg as fear-mongering. Hughes explains that many of the events in the film used to illustrate how biotech is required for this society to function (e.g., how astronaut-training programs screen out those with heart conditions for safety reasons and how Americans are already screened by insurance companies based on their propensities to disease, for actuarial purposes) were either wholly justified or in practice without the influence of biotech.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, Pokémon: The First Movie3 was released only a few years after Gattaca, in 2001, and also explored the ethical and existential implications of cloning and genetic modification. The premise revolved around the fallout from the creation of Mewtwo, a genetically engineered clone of the legendary Pokémon Mew. Mewtwo, furious that it was created to serve human experimentation, sets the plot in motion to prove that it is superior to humans and other Pokémon. Though forgotten by mainstream audiences today, it was released at the height of the early 2000s Pokémonmania, becoming one of the highest-grossing animated films of its era. Ironically, for what many viewed as a piece of disposable children’s entertainment, it had one of the most nuanced takes on cloning and genetic engineering in the mainstream up to that point. Unlike Gattaca, where the natural is championed over the synthetic, Pokemon: The First Movie opts for a more nuanced take when Mewtwo, realizing the error of its ways, states: “I see now that the circumstances of one's birth are irrelevant; it is what you do with the gift of life that determines who you are."

Since Pokemon: The First Movie targeted children of the early 2000s, and the franchise surrounding it has since become the most profitable multi-media franchise of all time, it should come as no surprise that recent studies, like the one conducted by the Pew Research Center in 2020, have found that young adults who grew up in this era are more receptive to biotechnology than older generations. This is important because even misguided children’s entertainment, like the aforementioned film adaptation of Jurassic Park (rated PG-13 in America), has been documented to inspire an entire generation of new scientists and researchers.

Regarding the public debate on synthetic biology, a recent study conducted by the National Center for Biotechnology Information on the Bio:Fiction film festival attempted to predict the coming debate on synthetic biology. According to the researchers, the study aimed to determine how the public debate about synthetic biology would be framed. The study expressly states that this was born out of concerns the scientific community has of a repeat of the standstill in genetic engineering research due to irrational fears by the public that were spread by art, media, and entertainment. Nowhere are the concerns of misinformative fearmongering when it comes to biotech and synthetic biology more apparent than in mainstream biopunk, which exemplifies the common thread that binds the anti-biotech movements: modern science is illegitimately ( or ‘unnaturally’) interfering with nature, and it will be used by the powers that be to control, subdue, or inadvertently eliminate all of us. In these mainstream biopunk stories’ attempt to explore philosophical ideas about human nature, what we ended up with is a slew of alarmist nonsense positing scenarios that would never happen in real life by artists who were not familiar with the ambitions of the biopunk movement and who were not qualified to even engage in the public debate on it. What started as biotech-focused cyberpunk ended up exactly where cyberpunk found itself in the mainstream: with all the phoniness but 100% natural.

1 No one is exactly sure who coined it.

2 The writer of the letter clarified the term in no uncertain terms: “If they want to sell us Frankenfood, perhaps it’s time to gather the villagers, light some torches and head to the castle.”

3 Named Pocket Monsters the Movie: Mewtwo Strikes Back in its home of Japan.