Why did Britain leave the European Union? Ask five different people and you’ll get five different answers. Restoring parliamentary sovereignty. Cutting down on immigration. Justice for the Metric Martyrs. Getting Nigel Farage off our televisions. Or because quitting a transnational European organisation is a habit we Brits indulge in once every millennium.
One might argue that Brexit has so far failed to completely satisfy any of those. But one aspect around which all Brexiteers can agree is that exiting allows us to do things differently from Brussels. Whether that means ‘Singapore-on-Thames’, Hitchens Island, or an educational technopolis depends on one’s personal Eurosceptic genre.
Nonetheless, I don’t think I am being too presumptuous in suggesting many of my fellow Leavers are so far underwhelmed by the extent we have diverged from the EU model. As I have previously noted, this is a depressing thought when our stagnation is (largely) homegrown, and Brexit provided a welcome opportunity to address its root causes.
So it please me to inform readers of one area in which Westminster has managed to shake off the European straitjacket. It is a point of difference that may have passed many a seasoned politico by, primarily because it is the sort of policy more often read about in The New Scientist than The New Statesman: genome editing.
The Genetic Technology (Precision Breeding) Act, passed earlier this year, allows the sale of food that has been genetically emended to improve human health and curb environmental impacts. Genome editing differs from genetic modification, which involves introducing foreign DNA from other species. The tools involved mimic natural breeding, in the interests of generating desirable changes within organisms.
Modern technology and techniques can accelerate what agriculturalists have been doing for decades: selectively breeding different varieties to produce new, improved plants. Only last year, researchers produced a tomato that acts as a higher-than-usual source of Vitamin D. George Eustice, the minister who introduced the legislation, hope to see future crops produced that were resistant to climate change, pesticides, and drought.
This practice was barred while we remained EU members. A 2018 ruling of the European Court of Justice (ECJ) suggested that gene-editing techniques alter genomes in a way that is unnatural and unsafe. This is regardless of whether this was between species that would interbreed naturally or required the insertion of foreign DNA into host organisms. Think of those frogs used in Jurassic Park but with wheat.
Under the legislation, only traits that could also be achieved via traditional plant-breeding methods will be allowed. The Secretary of State will be advised a committee of experts to determine whether products meet the required standards. There are also no plans to remove various food safety or novel product regulations that we adopted as EU members.
Even so, genetically engineered foods are not a popular prospect amongst the British public. The two-decade-old hysteria about “Frankenfoods” has not worn off in the popular consciousness. 88 per cent of the UK public is opposed to changes in the law according to the Government’s own consultation. One expects a public reaction if gene-edited products appear in supermarkets – especially as they aren’t set to be specifically labelled.
Arguably, this deprives shoppers of the chance to decide for themselves what they choose to put in their bodies. But those involved in the legislation whom I talked to were keen to stress that fears about the safety of gene-edited crops are unfounded. Diverging from the EU is seen as an excellent opportunity for both British agriculture and our biotech industry.
I was told by one person crucially involved in the Act that the ECJ’s ruling came from “lawyers, not scientists”. The ruling involved a particularly anal and self-defeating reading of EU regulations and was opposed by many member states – such as France or Germany – which had hardly previously been cheerleaders for genetically edited produce.
Crucially, the EU is also aiming to make gene-editing plants easier. Draft proposals were published last month. Several years ahead of legal wrangling await before the measures complete their various hurdles in Brussels. In the meantime, ministers hope we can use our head start and pre-existing research infrastructure to make us Europe’s undisputed leader in this field.
The positive case is clear: exiting the EU has enabled us to get the jump on Brussels in an industry already flourishing in the Americas. Yes, it wasn’t as essential to Leave voters as reducing immigration, plowing money into the NHS, or establishing that Parliament is the highest authority in the land. But it’s a damn site more useful than changing passports colours or reintroducing imperial measurements.
Even so, it would be wrong to suggest that these changes do not have one or two worrying implications. Those involved in designing the legislation assure me that scientific concerns about mutations spreading between crops have significantly reduced in recent years and have yet to become a problem in those countries where gene editing is popular.
Yet one should always have a natural scepticism towards any suggestion that interfering with genomes is an unalloyed good. The sci-fi spectre of “designer babies” may be a long way off. But any ConHomer who has seen Oppenheimer will be well aware of the difficult implications of mankind playing God. More nutritious tomatoes are the start. But where should we draw the line?
Concerns should also be raised that putting our eggs in the gene-editing basket means neglecting other ways we can make British agriculture more efficient through science. The Dutch have become the world’s second-largest agricultural exporter whilst pioneering new techniques like AI fruit pickers, and geothermal heat pumps, and not getting too het up about animal welfare standards.
These reforms should therefore be cautiously welcomed. They are a clear example of us taking advantage of the opportunities available to us. They should give Britain a head start in an industry that will only expand as the number of global mouths requiring feeding soars. But its actual long-term impacts? Too early to tell. Much like for Brexit itself.