By Sandra Guy
Chicago Sun-Times via Checkbiotech.org

Chicago is on the bleeding edge of a new kind of technology that could allay some fears about the safety of genetically altered crops.

The focal point is Chromatin Inc., a start-up company with 15 employees on the West Side, where a new technology allows researchers to manufacture artificial chromosomes and introduce their genetic traits in one targeted burst into a plant such as corn or soybeans.

The chromosomes maintain their identity once inside the plant, and replicate their traits just as normal chromosomes do.

Previously, researchers had been able to insert into a plant only one gene, and sometimes two or three at a time, and they did it randomly.

"With the old method, every single plant you make is potentially different," said Richard Dixon, who serves on Chromatin's scientific advisory board and is director of the plant biology division at the Samuel Roberts Noble Foundation in Ardmore, Okla.

Not so with the new technology. It could enable researchers to develop plants with uniform traits, such as being able to fight off insects or resist diseases, reducing the need for pesticides.

Daphne Preuss, Chromatin's founder and a professor in the University of Chicago's molecular genetics department, sees her discovery as a way to help farmers -- and by extension, her own family.

"I recognized what my uncles dealt with every year -- crops at risk from weather, drought and diseases," said Preuss, 40, who grew up in a town of 1,800 in rural eastern Colorado.

Preuss' upbringing gave her unique insights into working the land and understanding life and death, whether it be that of plants or animals.

Yet Preuss' interest in pursuing an education in biology was unusual. Her grandfathers had left school after the elementary grades, and few in her community had a college degree.

"I didn't know how to be a scientist, but I knew I wanted to be one," said Preuss, who received her Ph.D. from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and did her post-doctorate training at Stanford University.

Though Preuss touts the benefits of gene modification, the issue is in hot dispute both in and outside the United States. In January, U.S. Agriculture Secretary Ann Veneman said her agency is weighing whether to institute a system that would grant permits for planting biotech crops based on the level of risk that the crops' traits could be spread accidentally to regular plants, according to the Associated Press. A panel of the National Research Council warned that more controls are needed over genetically engineered plants and animals to protect wildlife and the environment.

At the same time, the European Union is considering removing a five-year ban on new biotech crops in Europe.

Preuss has lobbied for the easing of such bans, partly because she fears they could lead to curbs on basic scientific research. Her visibility prompted U.N. Secretary General Kofi Annan to invite her to speak before the United Nations about genetically engineered crops last fall.

Preuss concedes that the rigors of testing genetically modified food differ from country to country, and that work needs to be done to ensure that standards are adopted worldwide.

Chromatin, like most start-ups, has yet to turn a profit, though it has raised $4.7 million in venture capital and $3 million in grants.

Chromatin expects to see its altered plants ready for farmers' fields in two to three years, said Mich Hein, the company's president and CEO.

Meanwhile, Preuss is starting work at her research lab at the University of Chicago to modify African crops so they can provide extra vitamins and protein for people there. Last year, some governments in sub-Saharan Africa rejected genetically modified food donations even though a drought had caused widespread starvation.

Richard Caplan, an environmental advocate for a group that opposes gene-enhanced food, said he believes the new technology still poses risks of the unknown.

"There seem to be huge questions remaining, still, regarding unknowns in the interaction among artificial and natural genes," said Caplan, who works for the National Association of State Public Interest Research Groups in Washington, D.C.

A case in point is Monsanto, which has been forced to start work on new varieties of genetically modified sweet potatoes because its original crop proved just as vulnerable to a virus as did conventionally grown potatoes.

Copyright 2004, Digital Chicago Inc.