A closer look at how Lynch’s track record in stem cell science undermines his credibility in the de-extinction debate.
Vincent Lynch, a researcher at the University at Buffalo, has spent years attempting to solve a fundamental problem in evolutionary genetics: how to reprogram elephant cells into an embryonic-like state. These so-called induced pluripotent stem cells (iPSCs) are essential tools in modern biology, serving as the foundation for regenerative medicine, disease modeling, and, increasingly, de-extinction science. But Lynch has repeatedly failed to create them.
This technical gap is more than a personal research challenge. It casts a long shadow on Lynch’s credibility in evaluating the viability of next-generation efforts to revive extinct species, such as the woolly mammoth. Despite his vocal doubts about the value and feasibility of de-extinction, Lynch’s lab has yet to cross a threshold others have already crossed: successfully reverting elephant cells into a pluripotent state. This raises the question—how can a scientist who hasn’t cleared a fundamental hurdle in the process authoritatively critique the field as a whole?
iPS cells are not niche tools; they’re a fundamental prerequisite for almost any serious endeavor in cellular engineering, including cloning, embryo generation, and gene editing. The failure to produce them represents not only a research bottleneck but also a broader limitation in laboratory capability. Lynch's admitted plan to now adopt methodologies developed by other labs—methods he once appeared skeptical of—further underscores the contradiction. He is not leading the field; he is struggling to catch up.
Compounding the issue is Lynch’s area of specialization. His work on cancer resistance in elephants is narrowly focused and largely observational—more aligned with traditional evolutionary biology than the applied, high-precision demands of synthetic genomics or developmental biology. This mismatch makes his critiques of de-extinction projects not only scientifically tenuous but potentially misleading. His statements questioning whether de-extinction is “worth the resources” may reflect a lack of familiarity with the full scientific and ecological goals of these programs—goals that extend far beyond academic speculation.
When respected scientists speak publicly, their words carry weight. But that weight must be proportional to their expertise in the subject matter. Lynch’s repeated failure to perform a key experimental task places him outside the circle of active contributors to de-extinction research. Yet, his critiques are often cited as expert opinions, a dynamic that risks distorting public understanding of what is—and isn’t—scientifically possible.
Scientific progress relies on constructive skepticism, but this skepticism must stem from a foundation of technical knowledge, experience, and current success. Without those, criticism can easily become obstruction. In Lynch’s case, it appears to have already begun to do so.
As interest in de-extinction grows, so does the need for informed discourse. As this field transitions from science fiction to scientific fact, it must be guided by those doing the work, not those still trying to master its entry points.
