A New York City-based biotechnology startup is openly challenging one of the most firmly established ethical and legal boundaries in modern science: the prohibition on creating genetically modified human babies. Origin Genomics, led by founder and CEO Cathy Tie, is working to demonstrate that editing disease-causing genes in human embryos could offer benefits that outweigh the considerable risks — a position that places it at odds with current law in the United States and much of the world.
The company recently gave NPR an exclusive tour of its laboratories, though Tie requested that the exact location be withheld for security reasons. The visit offered a rare glimpse into the work of a startup operating in a field that remains illegal in the country where it is based. Making gene-edited babies is prohibited under U.S. law, and the practice is widely condemned by mainstream scientific and bioethics organizations.
During the tour, Tie donned a white lab coat bearing her name and the Origin Genomics logo before leading the NPR team into the lab. She put on blue rubber gloves and pointed to a gray metal tank on the floor, shaped like an oversized thermos, which she identified as a cryogenic storage unit containing liquid nitrogen. This is where the company stores human embryos, she explained.
Tie opened the tank's black lid, releasing wisps of white vapor from the liquid nitrogen inside. She then carefully withdrew a long metal rod that held frosted glass tubes at its end. According to Tie, each tube can hold as many as ten embryos, and the rod she displayed contained four such tubes.
The embryos stored in that tank were donated by couples whose families have suffered for generations from severe, life-threatening genetic disorders. These donated embryos carry the same disease-causing mutations that have afflicted those families, making them valuable research material for Origin Genomics as it tests its gene-repair technology.
The company's scientists extract stem cells from the embryos as part of their effort to evaluate whether the technology can correct defective genes. The work represents an early-stage attempt to prove that gene editing in human embryos could be performed safely and effectively enough to justify a reconsideration of the current legal prohibition.
The stakes of this debate are substantial. Gene editing in human embryos raises profound questions about consent, since any changes made to an embryo's genetic code would be inherited by future generations. Critics warn that allowing the practice could open the door to eugenics, exacerbate social inequality, and lead to unforeseen health consequences for children born through such procedures.
Supporters of the research, including Tie and her team, argue that the potential to eliminate devastating inherited diseases is too significant to ignore. For families carrying mutations for conditions that cause early death or lifelong suffering, embryo gene editing could represent the only path to having a biological child free of a particular disorder.
The embryos themselves were created through in vitro fertilization and donated specifically for research purposes. The couples who provided them reportedly harbor a dream of having healthy children, a goal they hope gene editing might one day make possible. Their willingness to contribute embryos reflects a deeply personal investment in the outcome of this scientific and ethical controversy.
Origin Genomics is not the first entity to pursue human embryo gene editing. In 2018, a Chinese scientist named He Jiankui shocked the international community by announcing the birth of twin girls whose embryos he had edited. His work was widely denounced as reckless and unethical, and he was subsequently imprisoned in China. That episode hardened opposition to the practice and prompted calls for a global moratorium.
Despite that history, Tie and her company appear to be betting that the conversation may be shifting. Their mission, as described, is to prove that the benefits of editing disease-causing genes in human embryos outweigh the risks — a claim that would require rigorous scientific evidence and broad public deliberation before it could gain acceptance.
The legal landscape remains decidedly unfavorable. In the United States, federal law prohibits the implantation of genetically modified embryos, effectively barring the creation of gene-edited babies. Numerous other countries have similarly restrictive policies, and international scientific bodies have consistently urged caution. Any move to change these rules would require navigating a complex web of regulatory, ethical, and political obstacles.
Bioethicists have long argued that the distinction between treating disease and enhancing human traits is perilously difficult to maintain once the technology exists. If editing for medical reasons becomes permissible, they contend, pressure to permit editing for non-medical advantages such as height or intelligence could follow. Origin Genomics says its focus is strictly on repairing genes linked to serious disorders, not on enhancement.
For now, the company's work remains confined to laboratory research on donated embryos, not the creation of pregnancies. But the very existence of such a startup — and its public willingness to question the ban — signals that the debate over gene-edited babies is far from settled. As the science advances, the question of whether and how to regulate it will only grow more urgent.
NPR's tour of the Origin Genomics facility, and the interviews with Tie and the donating couple, underscore how deeply personal and scientifically consequential this issue has become. The embryos stored in that liquid nitrogen tank represent both the promise of eliminating inherited disease and the ethical perils of altering the human germline. How society chooses to weigh those competing considerations will shape the future of medicine for generations to come.
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