You’ve likely come across them by now—Romulus and Remus, the fluffy canines celebrated as “revived” dire wolves. The story seems like something straight out of science fiction: adorable animals, cutting-edge technology, and a hopeful nod to conservation. But while the narrative is captivating, the reality is far more complicated. Contrary to popular claims, dire wolves haven’t truly returned—and presenting the story as a conservation success may actually do more harm than good.
Let’s take a closer look.
When Headlines Outrun Science
Time magazine featured one of the new pups, Remus, on its cover—a snow-white wolf, proudly hailed as a creature brought back from the depths of extinction after 10,000 years. That’s the story being told, but it doesn’t quite hold up under scrutiny.
The company behind this bold claim is Colossal Biosciences, a startup specializing in the emerging field of “de-extinction.” They’ve attracted attention before, particularly for their ongoing work to re-engineer a woolly mammoth by editing the DNA of Asian elephants. Recently, they even generated headlines for creating what they dubbed “woolly mice”—small animals with mammoth-like traits meant to show progress toward their goal.
Their latest project involves three pups they say represent the return of the dire wolf. But Romulus, Remus, and their sibling Khaleesi are not true dire wolves. They are genetically altered gray wolves—modified, yes, but not brought back from extinction.
Defining the Dire Wolf
The dire wolf (Aenocyon dirus) roamed the Americas during the Late Pleistocene, hunting large prey with powerful jaws and a robust frame. While they shared similarities in appearance with gray wolves, dire wolves were genetically distinct. They were so different, in fact, that scientists have assigned them to a completely separate genus. Studies indicate that dire wolves split from gray wolves around 5 to 6 million years ago, making them more distant relatives than their appearances suggest.
Colossal’s method involved modifying the DNA of modern gray wolves. Specifically, they edited 20 genes—15 to reflect known dire wolf traits and 5 more to alter coat coloration. These engineered embryos were carried by domestic dogs, and the resulting pups are now monitored around the clock on a large, private reserve.
What Makes a Species?
This is where the story gets murky. The company’s argument hinges on one interpretation of species classification: the morphological species concept, which groups organisms based on visible similarities. Under this definition, if an animal looks like a dire wolf, it might be considered one.
But most modern biologists rely on a more precise framework—the phylogenetic species concept. This approach considers genetic makeup and evolutionary lineage, providing a deeper understanding of how species are related. From that standpoint, gray wolves and dire wolves are not close enough to be lumped together. Their divergence millions of years ago marks them as distinctly separate branches on the canine family tree.
So, while Colossal’s wolves may bear some visual resemblance to dire wolves, they are genetically something else entirely.
What Did Colossal Actually Create?
Rather than reviving an extinct species, what Colossal has done is splice select DNA segments—retrieved from fossilized dire wolf remains—into the genome of modern wolves. The result is a hybrid: a gray wolf with superficial features meant to mimic its long-gone cousin.
Colossal maintains that their goal was never to perfectly recreate dire wolves but to produce animals capable of filling a similar ecological role. But that goal is speculative at best. Dire wolves existed in an ecosystem that no longer exists. No one today has observed their hunting techniques, social behaviors, or interactions with now-extinct prey. We don’t truly understand what ecological “niche” they filled.
Appearances Can Be Deceiving
Skepticism is widespread among scientists. As Maarten Larmuseau, a geneticist from Belgium’s KU Leuven, put it in an interview with NPR, “You can’t bring back a species by making something that just looks similar. DNA only tells part of the story—behavior, instincts, and environmental adaptation are equally important.”
What’s more concerning is how such claims could be used beyond science headlines. There’s already fear that de-extinction projects like this could be used to downplay the urgency of conservation efforts. If the public starts believing that extinction is reversible, the motivation to protect endangered species now may diminish significantly.
It’s Not Conservation—It’s a Tech Showcase
To be clear, what Colossal accomplished is no small feat. Genetically modifying wolves to express specific traits requires tremendous skill and scientific coordination. But the result isn’t a real de-extinction—it’s a demonstration of synthetic biology, with a marketing twist.
While Colossal has edited 20 genes, keep in mind that the canine genome includes nearly 20,000 genes. Altering less than 0.1% of an animal’s genome doesn’t turn it into another species. It’s a tweak—not a transformation.
Romulus, Remus, and Khaleesi may be genetically interesting, but they are not dire wolves. They are, by every meaningful definition, modified gray wolves.
The dire wolf is still gone. Extinct. And if we continue under the illusion that technology can simply reverse extinction, we risk losing far more than just the species of the past.
Conclusion: Extinction Is Still Forever
Colossal Biosciences has pushed the envelope in biotechnology and stirred global fascination. But this is not a comeback story. This is a story of gene editing and genetic mimicry, cleverly packaged for public intrigue.
Real conservation isn’t about stylish headlines or recreating the aesthetics of extinct animals. It’s about protecting what’s still here—preserving habitats, preventing poaching, and ensuring biodiversity thrives.
As paleogeneticist Nic Rawlence told the BBC, “Extinction is still forever.” Ancient DNA, no matter how carefully preserved, is incomplete—fragmented into pieces that can’t fully reassemble the past. Believing we can simply reverse extinction may tempt us to abandon the harder, more urgent work of protecting life that still exists.
The truth is, Remus and Romulus are not the return of a legendary species. They’re a remarkable biotech experiment—and a reminder that science, while powerful, is no substitute for true conservation.
