How Silicon Valley is inching toward engineered babies: The tech, the risks and the legal grey zones

How Silicon Valley is inching toward engineered babies: The tech, the risks and the legal grey zones

For nearly a year, a small San Francisco startup called Preventive has been preparing for something that would have seemed like science fiction a decade ago. Backed by Sam Altman, his husband Oliver Mulherin, and Coinbase founder Brian Armstrong, the company has been exploring embryo editing in an effort to prevent inherited diseases and, over time, influence traits such as intelligence. People familiar with the effort said executives were quietly working toward identifying a couple willing to participate in an embryo-editing pregnancy, though Preventive now denies this. Their plan rests on editing an embryo’s DNA before implantation, something already banned in the United States and many other countries, the Wall Street Journal reported.

Why the science is powerful and dangerous

Gene editing is routine in research and increasingly used to treat severe diseases after a child is born. But altering embryos touches off much deeper fears. Changes made at that stage become heritable, passing down to future generations. Scientists warn that the technology is still unpredictable, with risks that include unintended edits, missing segments of DNA and interactions between genes that researchers don’t yet understand. The only known case of children born from edited embryos happened in China in 2018, and the researcher responsible was jailed for illegal medical practice. That episode triggered a global debate and prompted calls for a moratorium until the science matures.

Why startups are looking outside the United States

Preventive has been exploring locations where embryo editing is legal, including the United Arab Emirates. The Food and Drug Administration is barred from even reviewing applications for human trials involving embryo editing, which means companies pursuing the technology must leave the country to conduct real-world tests. Preventive incorporated quietly, operated with a small team under nondisclosure agreements and avoided public hiring. When contacted for comment last month, it acknowledged raising thirty million dollars and said it was progressing cautiously. Its chief executive, Lucas Harrington, said the company will publish research openly and will not move toward human trials unless safety is proven.

A wider industry taking shape around genetic selection

Preventive is only one piece of a wider movement. Several startup founders, many backed by well-known tech investors, are developing embryo-screening technologies that promise insight into a child’s future health and other traits. These companies do not edit DNA. Instead, they produce risk profiles by analysing dozens of genes at once, from heart-disease vulnerability to susceptibility to schizophrenia. Some also offer predictions about likely intelligence, height or eye colour, which has drawn sharp criticism from geneticists who say the science is not mature and risks encouraging a modern version of eugenics through the marketplace.

The money and ideology driving the effort

Brian Armstrong has emerged as one of the central promoters of embryo editing. He argues that gene-edited children could have lower cholesterol, stronger bones and protection against common diseases. He has held private dinners with technologists and scientists to discuss the potential of these tools. He has also floated the idea of unveiling a healthy engineered child without prior disclosure, though his spokesperson now says everyone agreed it was a bad idea. Altman and Mulherin have invested for reasons they describe as disease prevention rather than trait enhancement. Both insist they support public transparency and slow, cautious research.

A deep scientific divide

Many researchers believe the ambitions of these startups far exceed what the science can support. They argue that complex traits like intelligence are shaped by hundreds of interacting genes and environmental factors, making predictions unreliable. Some warn that the field is racing ahead under the influence of wealthy backers who view technological disruption as a form of progress in itself. Others emphasise that the technology could one day help families affected by severe hereditary disease, provided it is developed cautiously.

A future shaped by choices made now

Preventive and similar startups insist they are pursuing responsible science, though much of their work will likely unfold outside established regulatory systems. Breakthroughs at major academic labs are expected soon, which could accelerate the timeline for clinical applications. But the fundamental question remains unresolved. If companies do manage to produce genetically engineered children, even for medical reasons, the line between disease prevention and the pursuit of preferred traits could blur quickly. Scientists say this is why the field must move slowly. Investors argue that progress is inevitable. And each advancement brings society closer to a moment when the first engineered child becomes not a rumour or a lab experiment but a real birth with real consequences for generations to come.