By Randall Osborne

Editor

The uproar in Europe over genetically modified organisms (GMOs) in food seemed, at first, to be an isolated ­ and somewhat mysterious, to Americans ­ tempest, apparently fueled by that culture's emphasis on cuisine.

Because Europeans value food so highly and take such care in its preparation and handling, they are particularly prone to agitation over any tampering with the "raw ingredients" of their often-elaborate dishes. So the argument went.

In any case, the opposition in Europe became so vociferous that officials last year in Brussels took extra measures at the EuropaBio 99 international conference, which activists had threatened to bomb.

Many U.S. scientists, and many working in the biotechnology industry, found the overseas anguish regarding GMOs irrational ­ especially since the people in the same countries seemed to embrace biotechnology drugs, and their governments seemed eager to advance research into new treatments.

Yet the handwriting on the U.S. wall was discernible as early as the first half of this decade, when the U.S. Department of Agriculture Biotechnology Research Advisory Committee was told by an expert that opposition to food biotechnology had grown steadily during the 1980s.

In an ominous warning, the expert told panel members that biotechnology should avoid the mistakes made by the nuclear power industry, and not paint an unrealistically glowing picture of its benefits, while refusing to address the public's concerns.

By 1988, the National Agricultural Biotechnology Council (NABC) had been founded by the Boyce Thompson Institute in Ithaca, N.Y., to "provide an open forum to discuss . . . issues and encourage the ethical, safe, efficacious and equitable development of the products and processes of agricultural biotechnology."

The NABC was set up in collaboration with Cornell University, Iowa State University and the University of California-Davis, and comprises senior management figures from major not-for-profit agricultural biotechnology research and teaching institutions.

Now, concerns about GMOs have reached the near-boiling point in the U.S., as signaled by last month's call by some in Congress to require labeling of all foods that include GMOs.

In a trend that closely parallels what began to happen much earlier in Europe, groups in the U.S. such as the Sierra Club, The Humane Society, and the Center for Food Safety, joined in presenting a 10-part proposal named "The Pacific Declaration," calling for increased study and oversight of genetically engineered food crops, accurate labeling and pre-and post-market surveillance of genetically engineered crops and products.

Those with an economic interest in agricultural biotechnology lined up in 1997, sending a letter to President Clinton that urged him to "get tough on biotech" ­ but they were talking about potential trade blockages of GMO foods.

"Because trade is so important to American agriculture and the U.S. food industry, it is imperative that policy and regulations governing international commerce of genetically modified food and agricultural products are based on sound science and not just emotion which often turns into pure hyperbole," they wrote.

Hyperbole or not, biotechnology in agriculture is more than GMOs. Although the giant in agricultural biotechnology, Monsanto Corp., has been taking fire for its vast role in developing GMOs, this company and others have been working on crops that are resistant to insects and disease, as well.

The question is: How serious might the financial fallout be for biotechnology companies seeking to make deals with firms such as Monsanto and Pioneer Hi-Bred International Inc. ­ deals that may not involve GMOs at all?

Early last year, Maxygen Inc. signed a whopper agreement with Pioneer, a pact worth up to $85 million centered on "DNA shuffling," or combining genes to make new crop varieties.

With the rising worry in the public sector over foods made using GMOs, there could be cause for biotechnology firms to fret as well, and not only those making deals such as Maxygen sealed with Pioneer.

No analyst has emerged as the authority on agricultural biotechnology, and few have made a study of the field. So much is taking place in pharmaceuticals developed using biotechnology that farming has taken a back seat.

Ralph Hardy, president of NABC, is a former director of life sciences for DuPont, former president of a defunct, Boston-based agricultural biotechnology company called BioTechnica Inc., and former president of the Boyce Thompson Institute for Plant Research.

"I've walked on both sides of the street," Hardy said. "I have a fairly good feel, I think, for the scientific and technical aspects, and for the business aspects."

The NABC is a consortium of 30 teaching research institutes, two of them in Canada and the rest in the U.S., representing about 80 percent of the public sector research and development budgets in U.S. agriculture.

His group's work is "probably the most neutral activity out there in biotech," he said. "There's no industry money involved at all."

As for GMOs, Hardy said, negative publicity "can't help but have an impact for investors, but this arena has never been as attractive as the biomedical arena for, say, venture capital investors. If you look at the first round of ag biotech companies, there are essentially none of them still standing. The most successful was Mycogen, and that's been acquired by Dow Agrosciences."

Another leading agricultural biotech firm, Calgene, was acquired by Monsanto.

Hardy objects to the GMO term. "I like to call them molecularly genetically modified [plants], because we've been genetically modifying plants and animals ever since agriculture started," he said. "The molecular approach lets us do it with more precision and more rapidly."

Anyway, Hardy said, the issue is larger than many believe. Molecularly genetically modified products ultimately "will not only be the [main] source of food feed and fiber, but will the underpinning of the bio-based economy ­ one that, instead of using dominantly fossil-based forms of energy, uses agriculture."

Protestors against GMOs, he said, seem to be losing momentum. They did not have broad backing to begin with, and they don't have it now, he added.

"I don't know, in this country, what the real concern is about GMOs," Hardy said. "I personally don't think it's food safety, because all the scientific data indicate there is no evidence for it. You certainly could create something with a food safety risk, but the regulatory system is set up to take care of that."

The environmental argument makes no sense, either, he said, because advances in agricultural biotechnology make the environment safer.

"What a herbicide-tolerant soybean allows you to do, for example, is allow a herbicide in the field that only lasts for a few days," Hardy said. Otherwise, a herbicide may be employed that takes months or years to dissipate.

"I've raised this question with the Sierra Club, and I've never got an answer back from them," he said.

"My sense is that the American people still has confidence in the regulatory agencies," Hardy said, and are unlikely to be swayed by special interest groups ­ which are likely driven by a preference for organic foods and a distaste for the likes of Monsanto.

Their protests are carried out "under the guise [of food-safety and environmental concerns], because they probably feel that's more acceptable to the broad public," he said.

"The European scene is quite different," Hardy said. People there are much less trusting of regulators, thanks largely to bovine spongiform encephalitis, or mad cow disease, he added, and concern over GMOs here will probably fade as scientists become more involved in explaining the issues. *