Jurassic Patent: How Colossal Biosciences is attempting to own the “woolly mammoth”

Colossal Biosciences not only wants to bring back the woolly mammoth—it wants to patent it, too.

MIT Technology Review has learned the Texas startup is seeking a patent that would give it exclusive legal rights to create and sell gene-edited elephants containing ancient mammoth DNA.

Colossal, which calls itself “the de-extinction company,” hopes to use gene editing to turn elephants into a herd of mammoth look-alikes that could be released in large nature preserves in Siberia. There they’d trample the ground in a way that Colossal says would maintain the permafrost, keeping global-warming gases trapped and offering the chance to earn carbon credits.

Ben Lamm, the CEO of Colossal, said in an email that holding patents on any animals it creates would “give us control over how these technologies are implemented, particularly for managing initial releases where oversight is critical.”

Lamm said Colossal also intends to file patents on additional “transgenic” animals, such as the genetically modified wolves it announced last week. In that case, it used gene editing to insert about 15 DNA changes from the extinct dire wolf into gray wolves. The company touted this work as the first success for de-extinction technology, a claim that drew wide criticism.

Colossal has raised $400 million and is investing heavily in a range of gene-editing and reproductive technologies, although its business plans remain speculative. Lamm has suggested that each “mammoth” could generate $2 million in “carbon capture services” and that the company could collect a share of tourist dollars if it brings back other iconic species such as the dodo, which lived on a single island in the Indian Ocean.

Lamm said patents, which usually last 20 years, could provide “a clear legal framework during the critical transition period when de-extinct species are first reintroduced.”

In the US, patents on genetically engineered organisms have been allowed since 1980, when the Supreme Court signed off on one for an oil-eating bacterium. The justices famously said patent rights could cover “anything under the sun made by man.”

That opened the door to patents on animals, including the cancer-prone OncoMouse, glow-in-the-dark aquarium fish, and, more recently, pigs modified to grow organs for transplants.

Colossal’s woolly mammoth patent application, with its descriptions of modified cells and animals, represents “the current standard in biotech cases,” says Cassie Edgar, a partner at the law firm McKee, Voorhees & Sease in Des Moines, Iowa.

Yet Colossal’s legal venture breaks ground in other ways. It appears to be an novel attempt to secure rights to the use of extinct DNA and could establish an unprecedented legal monopoly over wild animals, since one of Colossal’s aims is to return revived species to their original habitats.

“This could set precedent for intellectual-property rights over engineered versions of extinct species—raising questions not just about science, but about who owns de-extinction,” Edgar says.

The basic de-extinction method works like this: Researchers obtain DNA from old bones or museum specimens and then use gene-editing technology to add ancestral gene variants to a closely related existing species. 

So far, no modified pachyderms have been born—elephant engineering remains too difficult. But last week, Colossal set off an eruption of headlines when it claimed it had used gene editing to re-create dire wolves, a species that went extinct some 13,000 years ago. One of the furry white canids, named Remus, appeared on the cover of Time magazine, with the word “extinct” crossed out.

Many experts dismissed Colossal’s claim to the world’s first successful de-extinction as hype. They noted that in reality, the animals are gray wolves with an unusual coat color; their genomes contain only a few bits of dire wolf DNA, but the two species differ by several million DNA letters.

Still, the company has taken steps to secure intellectual-property rights to nearly every aspect of its creations, even the names it gives its animals. MIT Technology Review found that Colossal had filed for trademarks covering some extra-hairy mice it revealed earlier this year, which were offered as evidence of progress toward a mammoth.

One trademark reserves the name “Mammouse” for use in the sale of “stuffed and plush toys.” Also trademarked is “Woolly Mouse,” covering its use as a motif for shirts, jackets, and athletic apparel.

Lamm says Colossal doesn’t currently have plans to open a gift shop. But he does want to protect the “brand identity” of the animals. “It seems like people connect with these animals on an emotional level, which is actually quite encouraging,” he says. “We need to ensure that we can protect our brand.”

The existence of a patent application on mammoth-like elephants could tap into lingering public doubts over whether legal monopolies should really apply to living things, especially elephants, the world’s largest land animals. “There are people that are unhappy about that, but that is certainly a pattern we’ve seen for a while in the US,” says Alta Charo, a specialist in legal issues raised by biotechnology who is Colossal’s ethics advisor.

Revive & Restore, a de-extinction organization in Sausalito, California, that is working toward reviving the passenger pigeon, says it doesn’t think the birds should be controlled by intellectual-property claims. “Revive & Restore will not be patenting de-extinct passenger pigeons,” says Elizabeth Bennett, a spokesperson for the organization. The organization envisions that if it succeeds in reintroducing the birds, they will be “protected under existing wildlife laws,” Bennett says.

Even some genetic engineers involved in the mammoth project, initiated more than decade ago at Harvard University, have mixed opinions on patenting de-extinct animals. Cory Smith, now a biotech executive, was a student when he helped prepare an earlier patent application on engineered elephants, which the school filed in 2021. “I am not sure it should have an owner,” says Smith. “I have always been on the side that maybe the animals shouldn’t be patented.”

During its press blitz last week, Colossal was careful not to reveal the exact genetic changes it had made to its wolves, telling advisors it needed to keep them secret for “intellectual-property reasons.” This prevented outside scientists from fully assessing the experiment. But it also would have also allowed Colossal to present the information to the patent office, since information already in the public domain can’t be patented.

In response to emailed questions, Lamm initially sought to avoid saying whether or not Colossal had filed for a patent covering the transgenic wolves, similar to the one on the “mammoth.” It’s a sensitive question, since such a patent would mean the canids are articles of commerce, not wild creatures returned to their “rightful place in the ecosystem,” as the company said last week.

“We take a thoughtful approach to intellectual property that balances scientific advancement with sustainable business practices,” Lamm said in his initial response. “What’s important to understand is that any IP protection would be limited to specific technical methods and innovations we’ve developed—not the genetic heritage of extinct species themselves. We see ourselves as stewards of this science rather than owners of these magnificent creatures.”

The pending mammoth patent paints a very different picture. First filed in 2023, it is titled “Woolly mammoth specific gene variants and compositions comprising same” and contains a list of 29 detailed claims that seek to control both a long list of mammoth gene variants and animals whose bodies contain that genetic code.

That is, this patent application doesn’t cover any specific method or technology, but is instead aimed at securing rights to novel animals with genetic changes that alter their hair, body size, immune system, tolerance to cold, and even cognitive capacity. 

“Any animal with woolly mammoth genes falls under the claims,” says Jacob Sherkow, a law professor at the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign.

Patent offices will probably chop away at the application before it’s approved and might even reject it. During the examination of a patent, inventors are typically required to narrow the commercial rights they’re seeking to those elements that are truly “new and useful” and also must steer clear of statutory prohibitions about what can be patented, which differ widely by country.

“I imagine very few of these patent claims are going to get issued as they stand,” says Sherkow. “But they’ll be a stalking horse—er, mammoth?—on what aspects of revived species are patentable.”

Ultimately, the real reason Colossal is trying to patent elephants with ancient DNA in them could simply be that it gives investors a little more confidence in its entirely novel and untested business plans in de-extinction. 

“Early-stage companies sometimes bet on long-tail events,” says Andy Tang, a partner at Draper Associates, one of the venture capital firms that put money into Colossal. Tang, who says he isn’t speaking for the company, believes that “in the scenario woolly mammoth[s] become important for partners, then it would be better to create some barrier to entry.”  He adds, “I think it is just cheaper to invest in patents early.  Much cheaper to patent the core tech early in order to avoid being reactive.”