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Colossal Biosciences breeds controversy while trying to revive mammoths

Colossal Biosciences scientist Beth Shapiro holds a portion of a woolly mammoth tusk recovered from the Arctic.
Rob Stein
/
NPR
Colossal Biosciences scientist Beth Shapiro holds a portion of a woolly mammoth tusk recovered from the Arctic.

When the elevator doors part on the second floor of a two-story brick and glass building in an office park on the outskirts of downtown Dallas, it feels like a portal opening to a different world.

The cavernous lobby is quiet and dimly lit. High ceilings expose pipes and ducts painted black. Glossy white stone floors seem to glow. A video wall silently shows extinct and endangered species and scientists working in white lab coats.

A big white animatronic dire wolf perches on a faux stone cliff. Every few seconds, the wolf almost imperceptibly shifts its head, as if scanning the horizon for predators or prey.

"Welcome to our labs," says Ben Lamm, the co-founder and CEO of Colossal Biosciences Inc., the "world's first de-extinction and conservation company."

Colossal has the audacious goal of resurrecting extinct species like the woolly mammoth, Tasmanian tiger and dodo bird. In the process, Colossal has been generating both excitement and disdain.

Enthusiasts say the company could be creating invaluable tools not only to resurrect ancient species, but also to save creatures on the brink of extinction. Critics say the company's goals are far-fetched and its claims exaggerated. They question whether it would be ethical or safe to bring back extinct species, even if it were possible.

Today, Colossal is opening the company's new 55,000-square foot lab to NPR. It's a rare look inside how 260 geneticists, reproductive biologists, ecologists and other scientists are pushing the limits of technologies such as gene-editing, cloning and artificial intelligence to turn the fantasy of Jurassic Park into a different kind of reality.

Deeper into the lab

We pass what looks like a wooly mammoth encased in ice and make our way through stylish black-walled hallways into the lab where ancient DNA is extracted.

"You'll see in the steam hood over here there's a bit of mammoth tusk," says Beth Shapiro, Colossal's chief science officer, as we enter the brightly lit room.

This bit of mammoth tusk is about 2 feet long and looks more like a log than part of a big curved tooth from a hairy beast that roamed the tundra before going extinct thousands of years ago.

"You can see this is incredibly well-preserved," says Shapiro as she snaps on a pair of blue rubber gloves. "But this clean part underneath — this looks like it's fresh, right? It does have DNA preserved in it."

Shapiro picks up a small electric saw to demonstrate on the jawbone of a bull how scientists extract woolly mammoth DNA from samples like this recovered from the Siberian permafrost.

"It smells like DNA. Can you smell it?" Shapiro asks. "Smells like the dentist a little bit, right? That's actually the burning of organic material. So it means that there's some organic material left in it."

Colossal scientists are analyzing dozens of mammoth DNA samples and comparing them to genetic material from living elephants to pinpoint critical genes.

"This is a way of narrowing down that list of what variants are important to making a mammoth rather than another type of elephant," Shapiro says.

Colossal's scientists are using those genetic guideposts to try to create cloned, gene-edited mammoth embryos from the skin cells of Asian elephants, which are the extinct mammoth's closest living relative.

The embryos would be transferred into surrogate female Asian elephants in the hopes they'll give birth to mammoths 22 months later. The company says it's getting close and predicts the birth of the first mammoth in about two years.

"And that will be our first mammoth," says Shapiro, with a chuckle. "That's the plan."

Woolly mice are a stepping stone

After leaving the ancient DNA lab, the next stop holds something hidden beneath a black cover.

"We're going to show you our woolly mice," says Matt James, Colossal's chief animal officer. "We can take this cover off and we'll let you see them."

In one glass box, four small mouse pups scurry about. In another, a bigger, fluffier adult sits quietly in the white litter. Named Chip, this mouse, and his brother, Dale, were the first two woolly mice produced by Colossal.

A "woolly mouse" genetically engineered to have the same kind of coat as extinct woolly mammoths.
Rob Stein / NPR
/
NPR
A "woolly mouse" genetically engineered to have the same kind of coat as extinct woolly mammoths.

Unlike typical mice with short gray-brown coats, these woolly mice have long dirty-blond hair that mimics the shaggy fur that helped protect mammoths from the Arctic cold.

"This was a great step for us to validate that the genes that we were targeting in the woolly mammoth genome are responsible for this specific woolly coat trait," James says. "That is sort of us being able to check a box and say: 'OK. We know we're editing in the right place in the woolly mammoth.' "

A dire wolf, or just something like it

Colossal made another big splash last year when the company announced scientists had brought back the dire wolf, which gained fame in the television series Game of Thrones.

Dire wolves resemble gray wolves but were larger, heavier and had broader skulls and more powerful teeth than their surviving relatives. Colossal named the animals Romulus, Remus and, of course, Khaleesi, a character from the series. They're on a secret preserve somewhere.

Critics, however, dismiss Colossal's dire wolves as a publicity stunt — saying they are really just gray wolves genetically modified to look like what the writers of Game of Thrones imagined.

Similarly, they argue, Colossal's mammoths wouldn't really be mammoths but simply Asian elephants modified to have some mammoth traits, such as shaggy coats and fat to warm them in their frozen world.

"Just because it looks like a duck, quacks like a duck and walks like a duck, it isn't actually going to be a duck," Nic Rawlence, a paleogeneticist at the University of Otago in New Zealand, told NPR. "I think it's honestly a pipedream. Extinction is still forever."

Is it ethical to bring an extinct species back to life?

And even if Colossal could re-create a mammoth, critics question whether that would even be ethical. They argue it would be unethical to resurrect extinct species that could very well just suffer and go extinct all over again— this time because their old habitat has changed too much or, perhaps, they don't have real mammoth mothers to teach the intelligent, social creatures how to survive.

"It could be very cruel to those animals," Jeanne Loring, a biologist from the Scripps Institute in California, said during an interview with NPR.

Another concern is that, just like in Jurassic Park, something unanticipated could go terribly wrong.

"It could be catastrophic," Loring says. "There's too many variables that we don't understand. There are too many things that could happen."

Critics also argue the money Colossal is spending would be better used to save existing species on the brink of extinction. Skeptics even fear Colossal's efforts could undermine conservation efforts.

"The argument would be something like: 'Now we don't have to worry about conservation anymore because we can just bring animals back from the dead,'" says Vincent Lynch, a professor of biology at the University of Buffalo.

In fact, Interior Secretary Doug Burgum cited the possibility of "de-extinction" when questioning the Endangered Species Act. "It's time to fundamentally change how we think about species conservation," Burgum wrote on X.

Some argue the company is exaggerating what's possible to raise money.

"They're mounting a disinformation campaign designed to garner positive and free public relations in support of raising capital that they can use for the biotech development," Lynch says.

Colossal is privately held, but says it has already raised more than $600 million and was valued at $10 billion during a financing round in early 2025.

The company hopes the technologies it's developing to restore lost species could be profitable in other ways. Colossal has already spun off two companies, Breaking, Inc., which is trying to develop microbes to break down plastics, and Form Bio Inc., which is licensing genetic analysis software.

Colossal dismisses the criticisms of its efforts to revive extinct species. Lamm and his colleagues say reintroducing missing species into the wild would be safe for the animals and the world.

In fact, they say the animals could repair damage to their ecosystems. Mammoths, for example, could help fight global warming by preserving and restoring the permafrost, they argue.

"It will be a mammoth because it will look like a mammoth and it will act like a mammoth, and it will restore interactions to that ecosystem that mammoths had with other species," Shapiro says.

Plus, Shapiro and her colleagues say, the genetic sequencing, gene-editing, cloning, reproductive and other technologies the company is developing will also be crucial for saving living species.

"Here are some tools that are just at our fingertips that we can use to do something good," Shapiro says.

The company created the Colossal Foundation to foster conservation. Colossal also recently announced plans to create a "biovault" in the United Arab Emirates to preserve millions of frozen cell and tissue samples from more than 10,000 species, including endangered creatures. The UAE is also an investor in Colossal.

"I think we have an opportunity to undo some of the sins of the past. A lot of these species we're working on mankind had a direct — like not an indirect — but a direct application to their demise," says Lamm, Colossal's co-founder and CEO. "It's unethical not to do this. It's immoral not to do this. Because I personally believe that only technology and synthetic biology has any hope of saving us."

Copyright 2026 NPR

Rob Stein is a correspondent and senior editor on NPR's science desk.