The Science of Sci-Fi: Cloning... and our Boundless Hypocrisy

Today let’s look at the wonderful world of genetic engineering, the super cool things we can do, and how all of us have the capacity for hypocrisy – an all too human trait.

I made a promise last week to rope penguins into my musings (in solidarity with the poor nation of penguins having to deal with tariffs), and boy did the universe deliver! Resurrection, cloning, cute, fuzzy animals – it’s all my writing calling cards rolled into one.

I want to tell you about an amazing species of penguin. The colossus penguin, Palaeeudyptes klekowskii. This amazing 7 foot tall bird (that’s taller than you) flourished approximately 60-34 million years ago, and – fun fact– the reason they flourished was due to the extinction of the giant aquatic reptiles that previously preyed on their flightless evolutionary ancestors. The lived on Antarctica and (absolutely unfortunately) went extinct 34-27 million years ago as well.

Just think about that. A penguin as big as an ostrich or emu. I feel we got shafted in the giant bird stage – what a shame there are no longer giant penguins roaming the earth, no, make that we deserve giant penguins to be resurrected.

Again, my sales pitch. This. In your yard, chasing away racoons from the trashcans. You know you want one too.

I want one. They’re cute, giant, probably not cuddly but I can dream. They would definitely chase the raccoons out of the front yard and might even take on the moose and elk that occasionally plague Canadian gardens.

And, if this (admittedly ridiculous) line of reasoning doesn’t ring any recent news headlines of the artic, dire variety, well, let’s talk about why it absolutely should.

No, they didn’t clone anything. Yes, it’s super cool. Hypocritical? You bet!

Sometimes simplifying science does a world of bad. Yes, the dire wolf puppies are extremely cool, definitely adorable, and probably going to grow to a terrifying size. The way they did it is super cool. Dire wolves are a recent extinction (along with Dodos, Aurochs – the terrifying ancestors of modern cows, sabretooth tigers, and mammoths), and – unlike the resurrected dinos in Jurassic Park – they had some temporal overlap with us. It’s not unthinkable that the rise of our species (along with the end of the ice age and other factors outside of our – at the time – cave dwelling control) contributed to their extinction.

No, it’s not a dire wolf. It’s a bespoke, genetically modified grey wolf. That doesn’t mean it’s not cool or a major scientific feat, but let’s call a spade a spade.

Resurrecting these kinds of extinct creatures feels noble, like a technological penance for our perceived ancient and modern wrongs. It’s a good thing.

No doubt about it, this is a vanity project. We’re not repairing anything.

So, what are these new dire wolves then? In simplest terms they’re genetically modified grey wolves but cleverly done. Because dire wolves went extinct recently (10,000 years ago), we occasionally come across well preserved specimens in permafrost. The cells are destroyed – ice crystals long ago ruptured the delicate cell membranes holding them together – but it’s possible to sequence the ancient DNA, understand exactly where the dire wolves and modern grey wolf diverged and… only change those parts.

Now, what the company who made these dire wolves wants you to think is that by changing those very specific genes they hit undo on the grey wolf draft, leaving the dire wolf in it’s place. The cool part is that by changing some of those genes, they get features that are more inline with a dire wolf than a grey wolf – which is cool. This kind of gene editing has huge implications to species that are on the endangered list. Imagine if we could introduce genetic variation into a population that really needs it – like a cheetah? That’s some targeted conservation.

But the dire wolves aren’t that. They’re genetically modified organism (the thing that you possibly eschew in the grocery store?), because there’s more that goes into what defines a species than the code – DNA architecture, imprinting, methylation, developmental cues from the egg or womb – all those things can drastically change gene expression.

But as a writer – and this is where I hope you take your science writing prompts from – I wan to give you a more tangible and horrifying example to put into more accurate perspective what they’ve really done.

Grey wolves are 95% genetically identical to a dire wolf. 5% is a huge gulf. You know what species are closer on the evolutionary sibling scale?

Humans and chimpanzees.

Chimpanzees and humans share 98.8% of our DNA. If they can make a Grey Wolf out of a dire wolf, imagine what we could do with the other great apes.

Our DNA is 98.8% identical to chimpanzees. Picture a world a million years in the future, where perhaps we’re extinct but chimps are still around. If visitors from afar landed on Earth and decided they’d like to see what the technologically advanced extinct ape looked like (us) they could theoretically take a chimp embryo and make some targeted edits. I mean, it’s only 1% percent. We know 5% is feasible…

Would that chimpanzee be a human? It would be more human-like for certain compared to other chimpanzees, but it would be a genetically modified chimpanzee (or gorilla, or orangutan) – would it be a strange hybrid, neither species really but a combination of both? I don’t know – but rest assured, as has been demonstrated in the news, we now have the technological ability to find out.

There is of course an even more impressive direction to go with this – Neanderthals. We share 98-99% of our DNA with our extinct cousins. We mostly think that they went extinct due to a degradation of Y chromosomes. We could clearly fix that now. I wonder that we’re so keen on dire wolves, mammoths, and dodos, but no one’s brought up the other recently extinct species that we’re in part responsible for – our genetic neanderthal cousin.

We have DNA samples; we know the genome. We could theoretically do exactly what was done with wolves for our eradicated sibling on the evolutionary tree. If genetically modifying a human embryo isn’t to your taste, why not use chimpanzee? It’s just as similar. Why no talk of the resurrection of our close cousin?

Don’t kid yourself.If we can do it with a dire wolf, a neanderthal is within our capabilities.We’re in part responsible for their recent extinction. So why a mammoth and not them?

We can come up with excuses – experimentation on a higher species, ethics, etc – but the real reason is hypocrisy. The neanderthal deserves no less of our attention than the dire wolf, but that would be uncomfortable. We like to extinct things that compete with us, we just don’t like the reflection in the mirror.

No what we want is a novel zoo dressed up as conservation. Which is what these are.

That doesn’t mean it isn’t cool, it also doesn’t mean it’s evil or doesn’t have amazing scientific merit – but let’s call it what it is. Genetically modifying organisms for vanity, the novelty. Who doesn’t want to visit a zoo with species we only see in textbooks and CGI rendering? Part of me still desperately wants my very own 7ft guard penguin.

If that doesn’t get you writing, I don’t know what will.

Next Week…

I swear to the gods that I have (at least) one book to be announced soon. We’re aiming for a summer 2026 publication date, it is traditionally published, and I’m currently referring to it as my SUPER SECRET SCI-FI. It is cowritten with the master of swashbuckling fantasy himself, Sebastien de Castell.

Next week I’ll be tacking The Science of Procedurals and why what you should really be focussing on is the outliers, not the usual.

Though I don’t have a preorder link to send you yet, if you liked this article consider subscribing, sharing with friends if you feel like it, or – if you’re greatly inspired – you can even buy me a virtual coffee (coming soon).

The Science of Mystery: Building a Better Crime Scene

Writing a murder mystery perhaps? If you haven’t heard of the mighty slime mold, consider yourself introduced!

I’m always on the lookout for cool things that tell a story. Factoids that expose a greater truth about the human condition, sardonic, sincere, or otherwise.

The slime mold caught my attention recently for exactly that reason.

What are slime molds?

Think you can find the best route between two places? Be more like a slime mold, and don’t think about it so much.

The slime mold is a unique, evolutionary branch of life on Earth. It is not a fungus like the name suggests, but a protist, which means it’s a eukaryote (like us with organelles) and – for the most part – are single-celled organisms. They are not an animal, a plant, a fungus, or a bacteria. They form their very own, cool, Earth-evolved class of life!

Why are you disproportionately excited about this, Kristi?

Because slime molds break an important protist rules – despite being a singe-celled group, some slime molds can form a a multicellular-like body that resembles a slug (plasmodium body). Technically it’s multinucleate, which means this cool slug is one giant cell… just with lots of clones shoved inside.

It’s brainless. Literally. No neurons, no higher organization. It’s a giant amoeba, a multi-personality protist masquerading as a slug. Did I mention it moves? Travelling at speed of up to 1.35 mm/second.

It also is a a better problem solver than you, or me. Make that all of us.

The Problem Solving Savant

Who could solve the puzzle cube in the fewest steps? My money is on the slime mold.

Network optimization is the name of the slime mold’s game. When in its slug body stage (which can get very big - up to 20 kilos and as large as a square metre), it has an uncanny ability to navigate complex environments, and find the most optimal path to say, a source of food (important decomposer), or to a more ideal environment. Sans brain.

For the most part, slime molds do this through biochemical signalling through the cytoplasm. They take in information from their surroundings (a signal that there is food or a location is getting too dry) and the cytoplasm reacts, contracting and propelling itself towards or away. The interesting part is that (perhaps because there is no brain to think and clog up the work) the slime mold is constantly and intuitively reacting to the environment as things change on a biochemical level. A change in the concentration of signal or direction? It changes course. Constantly, a the speed of biochemistry. The result researchers have found is that the path these slime molds take towards their object of desire its about the most optimal you could devise.

Coming to a crime scene near you, the mighty slime mold!

That’s cool.

What Does it Have to do With Mystery and Building Crime Scenes?

When investigators look at a crime scene, they’re ‘thinking’ about how a perpetrator might have set things up. The lesson from slime molds is that our ‘thinking parts’ might not always be our best friend. On two levels – how evidence came to lay where it is and how someone might have carried out a crime – we could be over thinking things. And it has researchers attempting to use slime molds (in models. They aren’t being released into crime scenes; that’s firmly sci-fi on the genre scale – but also cool) in models to check their work, improve forensic investigation strategies, and learn how to better search crime scenes.

Mystery? Meet Science Fiction, You’re New Best Friend!

How would I use the mighty-slime mold in a story? Off the top of my head, I’d use it to illustrate how forensics is an evolving area of research. Shows often like to make the forensic science seem bullet proof but as a result they gloss over everything we don’t know. I’d maybe have a forensic student, an assistant (also a ju—jitsu enthusiast - those folks LOVE slime molds for obvious reasons), visit our investigators crime scene and explain how the visually obvious assumptions are, well, wrong on a biological scale. It make for a more innovative approach to the ‘how’ of a murder or theft, and I think there’s real advantage to bringing a reader into the nuts and bolts of how scientists figure these things out. I’d also be inclined to use it as a group of side plot podcasters, convinced they’ve figured out a way to use slime molds to prove their own theories about a decades old crime, inject themselves into a cold case, but the world is your slime mold!

Next week, in solidarity with the penguins who’ve been dragged into a trade war, I’ll figure out a way to feature these cool critters!

Next week? I think I’m going to have to rope penguins into the subject. Those poor penguins didn’t deserve to be brought into an international Tarif war. The deserve better, gosh darn it!

The Science of Competence (AKA: Dunning-Kruger)

You know when it looks so easy that you’re convinced you could do it on the first try? You may be in the first stages of a Dunning-Kruger experience.

I had absolutely every intention of posting all about slime molds this week – how we should all be incorporating them into our murder investigations because they are that cool.

Instead, current events (coordinating military strikes over group chats anyone?) demand that I spend my time going over the science of competence. Do you happen to be designing a character who needs a flawed expertise that’s convincing? You’ve come to the right place.

The Science of Dunning-Kruger (DK): When we’re so dumb we’re convinced we’re a genius.

Recently tried something new and think you’re a genius at it? Maybe, but you could be experiencing the Dunning-Kruger effect.

By now, everyone on the planet pretty well knows about the military strike on Yemen that the USA used an unsecured ‘group chat’ to coordinate their battle plans through (apparently complete with emojis too!). There’s certainly some mud on people’s face, but could we be looking at some good ol’ Dunning-Kruger (DK) in real time?.

The DK phenomenon (named after psychologists David Dunning and Justin Kruger) was coined in 1999, and what it describes in simplest terms is a cognitive bias. The researchers noticed that there was a tendency for people with low competence in a particular area (note: not low intelligence) to… overestimate their abilities. A LOT. Think of when you watch an Olympic event, like skating. The figure skaters make it look so darn easy that someone sitting in an armchair all of a sudden becomes, well, an expert. Or even an instance where you’ve maybe begun a new hobby (like writing a novel) and start off thinking that this is a piece of cake! What are all these writers complaining about? You’ll be on the NYT list in no time!

I mean, they make it look so darn easy. How hard could it really be?

Though we all like to giggle at a fictional character (or politician) who’s convinced they’re good at something when they aren’t, there is a serious and dark flip side to the DK coin; that people with HIGH competence may UNDERESTIMATE their relative expertise.

Authors and female CEOs often talk about experiencing imposter syndrome; the overpowering sense that they aren’t as qualified as they really are. That can be catastrophic in the real world and fiction. Where someone who doesn’t understand a concept (like, say measles and herd immunity) but is convinced they know best confidently speaks over the scientists in the room who may start to ask themselves, ‘is there something they know I don’t’?

Confidence does not a doctor make. I’d rather have the person who spent 4 years in med school and admits they don’t know everything helping make my medical choices, not the one who ‘read a really cool article’ over the weekend.

The third aspect of Dunning-Kruger is metacognition, your ‘thinking’ abilities. It’s essentially your inclination to asses and challenge your own assumptions about your skill. For example, a few weeks ago I got on a pair of ice skates after years, falsely assuming that I’d be able to skate just like when I was a kid.

I was woefully wrong.

I reassessed my assumptions about my skill and as a result signed up for adult skating lessons.

Now, it was relatively easy to asses that I was wrong about my skating skills. I could not complete my task (skating to the centre of the rink… or anywhere). But there are other topics and areas – politics, military planning, espionage – where assessing whether you’ve been successful is…trickier, nebulous. I’m of the opinion that this is where Dunning-Kruger becomes outright dangerous, when the most confident person in the room who’s convinced everyone they’re an expert… has no meaningful way to assess whether they’re really any good at it.
How does all this fit into story and writing? Well, side characters, main characters, villains – when you’re designing believable people, keeping in mind that the one who is the most certain they’re right may not be capable of knowing how woefully wrong they are, can certainly help throw a wrench in a murder mystery turn around, or in a political thriller.

Also, that for characters to grow believably (like we do in RL), the pursuit of life-long learning, seeking out feedback, and reassessment are priceless traits. Oh, and a little humility goes a long way too.

Just wait! You’ll see me on the NYT bestseller list in no time!

TL;DR Dunning Kruger

1. Overestimation of ability by someone who is not particularly skilled.

2. Underestimation by highly skilled individuals. Perhaps less likely to correct those who keep shouting how right they are? Perhaps there’s something they don’t know?

3. That same low competence individual who grades themselves highly lacks the metacognitive (thinking) skills necessary to accurately assess their own abilities.

4. As skill goes up, confidence goes down (theoretically) as one becomes aware of their limitations, and (gradually) increases again with genuine skill development.

The Science of Romance: Young, in Love, and Enthralled by Biochem!

It’s that time of year.

I know it’s that time of year (every year) because of the enraptured bald eagle exhibitionists getting it on in the tree across from my kitchen window. And then there are all the other creatures that soon follow: the otters, hummingbirds, mallards, Canada geese (true assholes), beavers, and coyotes. Recently there were even some high schoolers.

Perhaps I should explain. I live in a strange juxtoposition of contradictions. My appartment backs on to protected wetlands with all sorts of wildlife who (mostly) fly into breed. The hummingbirds are currently chasing pieces of cat hair and fluff from my balcony as they build their nests. In a few months, the adorable mini-fluffs will all make themselves known as they leave their dens and patrol the pond.

Then there is the other mammal that frequents this picturesque nature preserve for spring-minded activities. The high school variety.

Yes, the nature preserve, and all its pathways and not in any way hidden nooks, also backs onto a high school.

TL;DR: Apparently everything is determined to fuck in my backyard this year, in sight of my living room window no less.

Now, in the recent high schooler’s defence, I am absolutely positive they didn’t think anyone could see them (a lot of people could, it wasn’t just me, there was talk in the mailroom the next day). More importantly, I suspect they headed for the forest so that they wouldn’t be seen by anyone – classmates, parents, grandparents (yes, this building is home to some of those same high school student’s grandparents). However, their desire (see what I did there?) to procreate led to some questionable decisions. Those same kinds of hormones and shift in season that make all the birds, furry aquatic mammals, and fish beeline to the nightclub of the animal world that is my backyard, also wreck their chaotic designs on the hapless teenagers (perhaps it’s contagious on a quantum level?) leading them not just to procreation but to a spectacularly bad choice in location.

Yeah. You two. Don’t think I don’t know what you eagle exhibitionists are up to…

So, in the spirit of spring, romance, and how to create conflict in romance (or romantic plot lines) I want to talk about bad decisions and all the wonderful hormones that cause them! Knowing the science behind what makes people want to ‘discovery channel it’ in public makes writing our enamoured character (and their poor choices) all that more believable.

You name it, if it breeds, it’s probably trying to screw outside my window.

Big Question: Do my various exhibitionists have any control over themselves?

That’s a sliding scale. In some cases, not really.

Most animals have a trifecta of things working against them in spring. Let’s take a very simplified look.

Hormone Pathways Rule the World

Longer days kick things off by stimulating the brain (hypothalamus and pituitary gland) to release a couple of hormones: gonadotropin-releasing hormone (GnRH), luteinizing hormone (LH) and follicle-stimulating hormone (FSH). It’s these later two that drive release and production of the sex steroids: testosterone (males) and estrogen (females).

Elevated sex steroids do two things very, very well: promote gamete production (fancy science term for sperm and eggs) and – importantly for our wayward teens and exhibitionist eagles – change our behaviour on a biochemical level – specifically mate seeking courtship rituals, desire and inclination to mate, and propensity for aggression and territorial displays

We see it everywhere, especially with birds; the dancing, singing, chasing.

Around mating season, loons will dance across the lake to attract a mate. I’m sure we’ve all seen teenagers in the grips of hormones behaving like loons.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, the receptors for our wonderful sex steroids are being unregulated, all the better to amplify these signals. But these unregulated receptors can also trigger another well trod behaviour: nesting, and not just the birds. Progesterone receptor (PR) up-regulation primes post-mating parental behaviour.

Why Are So Many Prone to Making Bad Decisions When in Love?

Our sex hormones play a huge role in shaping our romantic feelings. Attraction, bonding, and attachment are all influenced (note, not controlled) by the neurotransmitters and down stream cascade of hormones estrogen and testosterone release.

Our phases of love are well known as well, partially because of how affiliated with biological markers they are. Attraction, Infatuation, and Attachment. Let’s get to know the players behind our good (and bad) decisions, shall we?

The Phase of Love Hormones and Neurotransmitters

1. Dopamine (The Pleasure Hormone - Attraction and Infatuation))

• A neurotransmitter and hormone associated with pleasure and reward. It drives the excitement and euphoria of early romantic attraction by reinforcing the desire to pursue a partner. This hormone is responsible for the rush of infatuation and drives us to seek repeated interactions.

2. Serotonin (The Obsession Hormone - Attraction and Infatuation)

   • During early stages of love, serotonin (another neurotransmitter and hormone) levels drop, which can lead to obsessive thoughts about a partner. Over time, as relationships stabilize, serotonin levels normalize, promoting emotional balance and contentment. And perhaps triggering many of those ‘out of love’ rethinks?

3. Cortisol (The Stress Hormone - Attraction and Infatuation)

   • Cortisol levels rise during the initial stages of falling in love due to the "stressful" excitement of forming a new bond. This heightened state helps individuals focus on their partner but can be unpleasant. Luckily, they normalizes as relationships progress.

4. Oxytocin (The Love Hormone - Attachment Phase)

• Released during physical intimacy (hugging, contact, sex) to strengthen pair-bonding in the animal kingdom. Promotes feelings of trust, bonding, and emotional closeness and fosters positive communication and empathy.

5. Vasopressin (The Commitment Hormone - Attachment Phase)

• Vasopressin is associated with long-term commitment and monogamous behavior. It plays a role in maintaining stable pair bonds over time. Do your lovers stay loving? This hormone is involved.

Bringing Things Back to Writing

How does all this round back to romance and writing? Well, understanding the biological sources of these behaviours gives us a guideline of what should be happening.

For example, do your love interests have difficulty keeping their hands off each other? Do they make poor decisions when it comes to mating and courtship rituals? Do they perhaps display a varying level of agression? Overlook the faults of a partner they’re in the initial throes of infatuation with? Once the deed is done, do your romantically inclined characters shift behaviour towards nesting? They should if the hormonal wave they’re on has been a good one.

Next week? It’s time to talk about some sci-fi. Perhaps the amazing slime mold. Let me know if there’s a specific science of genre topic you’d like me to cover!