Can We Build Jurassic Park Yet?

More than thirty years ago, Steven Spielberg’s Jurassic Park captivated audiences with its amber-encased DNA, lab-grown dinosaurs, and a franchise so enduring even Dr. Ian “life, uh… finds a way” Malcolm might not have predicted its staying power.

And with the aptly titled Jurassic World Rebirth (yes, there’s another one!) roaring into cinemas this July, it’s the perfect time to ask: how close are we to turning science fiction into fact? These days, with dino DNA long gone, we’ve traded movie monsters for mammoths – and the occasional pigeon. And while the John Hammonds of the world might be disappointed, what we do have is no less thrilling: synthetic biology, CRISPR wizardry, and hybrid creatures that blur the line between extinct and engineered.

Let’s dig in…

What Jurassic Park Got Right... and Dead Wrong

If you’ve read Michael Crichton’s original novel, you’ll know he wasn’t just spinning a wild yarn – he really did his homework. Crichton actually earned a medical degree from Harvard back in 1969, though he quickly traded the stethoscope for a typewriter.

The novel reads almost like a blueprint for dinosaur resurrection: fossilised DNA, cloning, gene editing – all rooted in real scientific concepts. But that’s where reality starts to unravel.

First off, sixty-six million years is a very long time for something as fragile as DNA to survive. It breaks down, it decays, it disappears. In the best-case scenario, scientists believe it might be possible to preserve DNA for up to 1.5 million years. So the idea of extracting clean strands of dino DNA from a mosquito in amber? Sadly, it’s a no-go.

And Crichton’s famous workaround – “just fill in the gaps with frog DNA” – makes for a fun plot twist, but in reality? That’s how you end up with a genetic mishmash, not a fully functional T. rex. More Frankenstein’s monster than fearsome predator (though arguably just as terrifying).

As Dr Susie Maidment, a dinosaur researcher at London’s Natural History Museum, explains:

In Jurassic Park, they say that they found fragmented DNA. They identified where the holes are and filled them with frog DNA. But the problem is that you don't know where the holes are if you don't have the whole genome [...] If you did have the whole genome and you were going to fill the holes in fragments, then you definitely wouldn't do it with frogs [...] you'd use bird DNA, because birds are dinosaurs. Or you might do it with crocodile DNA, because they share a common ancestor.

And even if you could rebuild the body, what about behaviour – or instincts? A lab-grown dinosaur is unlikely to know how to hunt, socialise, or survive in today’s world. It’d be like dropping a confused, oversized chicken into a very unfamiliar zoo. (Cue the mouthy kid at the dig site: “That doesn't look very scary. More like a six-foot turkey.”)

What Could Come Back? Real De‑Extinction Projects

While 21st century dinosaurs remain firmly in the realm of science fiction, real-world labs are actively working on something that feels almost as wild: bringing back species that went extinct more recently. Think less Jurassic Park, more Ice Age: The Reboot.

Take the woolly mammoth, for example. A biotech company called Colossal – backed by entrepreneurs and A-list celebrities – is working to bring back “Earth’s old friend” by inserting mammoth genes, such as those for thick fur and fat insulation, into the DNA of Asian elephants. The aim isn’t to recreate a mammoth exactly, but to develop a hybrid capable of surviving – and ideally thriving – in Arctic conditions. If successful, the first embryo could be created within the next decade, with early trials in controlled environments and, eventually, semi-wild habitats.

The process begins with DNA extracted from remarkably well-preserved mammoth remains found in the permafrost of Siberia and Alaska. By comparing this ancient genetic material with that of Asian elephants, researchers can identify the key differences that made mammoths adapted to the cold. Using CRISPR, they edit those traits into living elephant cells. If the edited cells are viable, they could give rise to a new, cold-adapted species – an elephant shaped as much by science as by evolution. And not a frog in sight! 

Then there’s the case of the passenger pigeon. Once numbering in the billions across North America, these birds went extinct in the early 20th century – leaving a noticeable gap in ecosystems they once helped shape, from forest regeneration to predator diets. Wildlife conservation organisation Revive & Restore is using CRISPR to edit the DNA of band-tailed pigeons, their closest living relatives, in an effort to bring back something genetically and ecologically similar. The aim? Hatch and raise chicks in controlled environments, then slowly reintroduce them into the wild.

Ben Novak, lead scientist at Revive & Restore, writes: 

The extinction of the passenger pigeon is a tragedy of human avarice, but that doesn't have to be the end of their story. As we rewrite their genome back into being, we are writing a future chapter - one of ecological restoration, cultural reclamation, and human redemption.

And then there’s the dodo. Colossal (yes, them again) has been working to map the dodo’s genome using preserved museum specimens. But this one’s a tougher nut to crack: the dodo has no close living relatives, only fragments of genetic material, and we know very little about its behaviour. So, even if the team succeeds, the result won’t be a perfect dodo – just a dodo-inspired bird, genetically edited to resemble the extinct species.

Colossal frames the effort as part of a broader mission to address human-driven extinctions. As their website puts it:

The dodo is a symbol of man-made extinction. A glaring example of the price of carelessness. Colossal is committed to reviving species lost to extinction in an effort to build a better world. Therefore, it is our intention to partner with the government of Mauritius to establish a foundation for the de-extinction and rewilding of the beloved bird we all dearly miss. And finally, the people of Mauritius have been patiently waiting for the dodo's return, doing their part to care for their habitat and keeping the land in a natural, healthy state.

Reading that, you’d be forgiven for thinking dodos vanished within living memory. But the last confirmed sighting was in 1662 – hardly recent. Granted, it’s not the 66-million-year gulf that Crichton’s dinosaurs faced, but their extinction still predates steam engines, lightbulbs, and even the founding of the United States. So while the intention is admirable, saying we “all dearly miss” the dodo feels more like poetic license than genuine public sentiment. After all, it’s hard to miss something no one alive has ever actually seen! “Your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could, they didn't stop to think if they should” springs to mind…

That said, there’s a case to be made that reviving extinct species can spark public interest in conservation – interest that could, in turn, help protect the biodiversity we still have. And that’s an issue that deserves attention not just from scientists and ecologists, but from governments, policymakers, and the public at large.

Ethical and Ecological Pitfalls

Most of us can agree that protecting existing biodiversity should be a top priority. But using genetic engineering to bring extinct species back into the world raises more questions than answers. De-extinction might sound like a technological marvel, but it comes with big ethical and ecological questions that go far beyond the lab.

Take animal welfare, for starters. Surrogate mothers – whether elephants or birds – may face invasive procedures and stressful pregnancies. And even if a revived species is successfully brought to term, a lab-grown animal won’t have the social structure, environmental context, or learned behaviours of its ancestors.

Then there’s the broader ecological impact. Reintroducing a species into an environment that’s changed dramatically since its extinction could have unintended consequences. Will they compete with existing wildlife? Spread disease? Fail entirely? With so many species currently under threat, it’s also fair to ask whether the time, money, and resources might be better spent on conservation efforts with more immediate, measurable outcomes.

And of course, there’s the unknown. What happens when a mammoth hybrid affects modern plant life, or re-engineered pigeons carry unfamiliar pathogens? As Dr. Ellie Sattler puts it in Jurassic Park:

How can you know anything about an extinct ecosystem? And therefore, how could you ever assume that you can control it? I mean, you have plants in this building that are poisonous, you picked them because they look good, but these are aggressive living things that have no idea what century they're in, and they'll defend themselves, violently if necessary.

If companies like Colossal succeed in their resurrection ambitions, it won’t just be scientists or scriptwriters left to reckon with the consequences – it’ll be all of us.