I’ll unpack Colossal Biosciences’ recent claim about bringing back the woolly mammoth, examine what was actually produced, quote the company’s announcements exactly, and explain why the headlines and the science don’t line up.

Woolly Mammoth 2.0: Because What the World Really Needs Is a Hairy Elephant With an Identity Crisis

I have been watching Colossal Biosciences’ de-extinction work for some time, and their press moves often outrun the science. They have produced modified animals that provoke headlines, but the technical reality is more modest than the marketing. This latest announcement is no exception.

Colossal has reported a calf they present as a revived woolly mammoth, but that description collapses under closer inspection. The animal is best described as an Indian elephant calf with genetic edits intended to introduce cold-adapted traits, not as a true woolly mammoth returned from extinction. Words matter in science reporting, and calling this a resurrection misleads the public.

Colossal Biosciences, the world’s leading de-extinction company, proudly announces the successful culmination of its flagship mission: the resurrection of the woolly mammoth. In a landmark achievement for science, conservation, and the planet, Colossal’s team has brought the first mammoth in over 4,000 years to life a moment long dreamed of by scientists and storytellers alike.

The new calf, affectionately named Manny serves as a living testament to what happens when human ingenuity meets unwavering purpose. The name honors both the iconic cinematic figure beloved by generations and the spirit of resilience that defines this monumental scientific milestone.

Here is the simple biology: mammoths and modern Asian elephants are close relatives, not identical organisms separated by a trivial genetic tweak. Editing a living elephant genome to express a thicker coat or other cold-tolerant features can change appearance and some physiology, but it does not recreate the full suite of traits that defined the woolly mammoth. The past population structure, learned behaviors, and long evolutionary history cannot be recovered by swapping a handful of genes.

Using state-of-the-art CRISPR gene editing, the company engineered a cold-adapted elephant with the genetic traits, appearance, and ecological role of the woolly mammoth. This “cold-resistant elephant” walks, looks, and behaves like its ancient ancestor and is capable of thriving in the Arctic ecosystems where mammoths once roamed.

That statement bundles ambitious claims that are not supported by a single edited calf. First, the subject is a calf, and juvenile morphology and behavior change dramatically as an animal matures. Second, behavior is mostly learned in elephants; without adult mammoths to teach, any edited calf would learn from modern elephants and follow modern elephant culture. Third, the ecosystems mammoths inhabited have shifted substantially since they were common, so asserting an ecological role is speculative at best.

Colossal positions its mammoth project as having broader conservation aims, suggesting these engineered animals could help restore grasslands and even affect climate-related processes tied to permafrost. That is an appealing narrative, but ecological engineering at that scale requires robust population biology and proof that introduced individuals can reproduce, establish viable social groups, and reliably perform the claimed ecosystem functions. None of those boxes are checked by a single edited calf.

Colossal’s work goes far beyond genome editing. The woolly mammoth project was designed with a broader conservation mission in mind: to reinvigorate fragile ecosystems, support climate resilience, and inspire new solutions for biodiversity loss. Mammoths played a vital role in shaping grassland ecosystems and, by extension, the climate systems tied to permafrost and carbon storage.

There are genuine, exciting uses for CRISPR and related tools in biomedicine and conservation, and some genetic interventions could yield real benefits. But the gulf between demonstrating a particular genetic change and delivering an ecological solution is wide. Bold conservation promises require detailed ecological modeling, multi-generational studies, and transparent evidence that edited animals can function as intended in complex environments.

Finally, it matters how companies and scientists communicate these milestones to the public. Inflated language erodes trust and invites skepticism when the evidence does not support the headline. Celebrating incremental technical progress is fine; claiming resurrection or ecological transformation is not responsible without corresponding data and long-term results.

There is room for thoughtful, cautious innovation in genetic science that aims to help ecosystems and people. That progress should be accompanied by clear communication, rigorous peer review, and realistic expectations about what a handful of gene edits can and cannot accomplish.