Cloning Around
An FDA ruling could spur growth at a Texas company that has the leg up on duplicating animals
Cattle call. The first step for breeders who want to buy clones is to purchase ViaGen's $1,500 biopsy kit, which enables them to collect cells from the tissue of animals they want to duplicate. Cells are stored in vats of liquid nitrogen until a breeder decides to clone an animal. Then ViaGen replaces the genetic material of a harvested egg with that of the animal to be cloned, using a device whose controls resemble video-game joysticks. It takes a few hours to screen 600 eggs to find ones that will work. From that batch, maybe 50 end up as embryos.
A couple of days later, if the transfer takes, the embryo is implanted into a prescreened surrogate mother. There is about a 60 percent chance that the DNA will take to the egg and then about a 35 percent chance that the egg will become an embryo, says Irina Polejaeva, ViaGen's chief scientific officer. Improving those odds is a key to lowering costs.
While the high-tech process takes place at ViaGen's tiny lab in an Austin office park, embryos are shuttled to a more bucolic locale. The implants take place at one of the company's Texas ranches. Once a heifer gets pregnant, it behaves just like any other animal that is expecting, says animal resource supervisor Nanci Williams. She has been watching over the 12 frisky longhorn calves at ViaGen's ranch in Bucholz, Texas, while they nurse. "It's like KinderCare out there," she says. "But they are just cows being cows." After two more weeks at the ranch, the calves go to their owner, who breeds the animals for longhorn showcases.
Once FDA approval is complete, commercial livestock farmers will gradually begin duplicating their fattest pigs and best cows, says Barbara Glenn, managing director of animal biotechnology at the Biotechnology Industry Organization. Only a handful of farmers can afford now to clone their most productive animals. The animals' genes are often spread using other artificial-breeding methods. Cloning will improve the process because it increases the chances of producing a top-notch animal. In the end, the offspring of the pricey clones are the ones that will end up producing milk or being slaughtered, Glenn explains.
"At one time, cloning was like a scientific freak show, but now it's just another artificial reproductive technology we can use," says Kansas veterinarian Don Coover.
Persuading breeders to get onboard with cloning is one thing. Convincing consumers is an entirely different beast. Even the term cloning "sounds freaky and crazy, like animals are jumping out of an incubator," says Polejaeva. Most consumers initially have negative reactions when asked about cloning, even though it turns out they don't know much about the process and its potential impact on the food supply, according to a Food Policy Institute survey of 17 opinion polls on the topic. With consumer opinion on cloning still mixed, the FDA assessment is crucial in allaying fears about the process, the institute says.
The FDA ruling won't change the minds of cloning opponents. The Center for Food Safety had already filed a petition with the FDA in October to halt cloning, saying it boosts deformities in animals and is a form of cruelty. It also questions the FDA's assertion that there's no need to label food to show that it comes from cloned offspring.
Walton says that ViaGen will spend the next couple of years trying to convince consumers and breeders that cloning is safe. "I'd be kidding you if I said that [breeders] were lined up at the door," he says. "That's the nature of a new business. There are far more questions than answers."
More on the debate over cloning and food safety: www.usnews.com/cloning
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