The rise of cloned game animals presents troubling ethical questions for hunters.
The photo above, from Montana Fish, Wildlife and Parks, shows the sheep nicknamed Montana Mountain King, which was illegally cloned using tissue from a Marco Polo sheep by a Montana rancher who was later sentenced on federal wildlife charges.
In October 2024, a Montana rancher was sentenced to federal prison time and charged a hefty fine for illegally cloning a giant hybrid sheep, afterward referred to as the “Montana Mountain King.” Using testicles and other tissues illegally imported to the United States from a Marco Polo argali (Ovis ammon polii) hunted in Kyrgyzstan, the rancher contracted a laboratory to create cloned embryos, which he then implanted to ewes on his ranch, eventually resulting in an impressive male specimen tailored for the captive trophy hunting industry. He then worked with co-conspirators to use semen from the cloned animal to impregnate various other sheep and create hybrid specimens of large body and horn size for illegal sale to captive hunting facilities in various other states.
Despite the rather vainglorious title ascribed to this artificial outcome of an entirely illegal process, this story illuminates an explosive issue with broad implications for the entire conservation world, and for the hunting community specifically. Cloning—once the realm of science fiction—has become a reality. It now forcefully presents us with tantalizing possibilities and troubling ethical dilemmas as we ponder both nature’s future and the future of hunting in a rapidly changing world. With advancements in biotechnology, the realistic prospect of cloning animals for conservation, hunting, scientific research, and other purposes forces all of us to consider the implications of such Frankenstein-esque possibilities. We must now weigh these considerations, not only in the light of our own personal ethics and convictions but from the vantage point of our very perceptions of what wildlife is, and of nature itself.
Cloning has a long history. It began in 1885 when Hans Adolf Eduard Driesch showed that by shaking two-celled sea urchin embryos, it was possible to separate the cells and thereby develop two separate embryos. This spiny demonstration of artificial twinning was followed in the early 1920s by Hans Spemann’s famous salamander experiments, which resulted in the first instance of nuclear transfer, where the nucleus (DNA) from an embryonic cell of one organism is transferred into the ovum (egg cell) of another, eventually creating an organism identical to the donor. In 1984, Steen Willadsen created the first cloned mammals–three sheep–using this process.
The real breakthrough, however, came in 1996 with a sheep named Dolly, the first mammal created by somatic cell nuclear DNA transfer; in other words, using the genetic material from an adult body cell nucleus, not from an embryonic one. This innovation considerably expedited the genetics pathway involved, enabling cloning without the need for embryonic cells. Subsequent experiments rapidly expanded cloning’s pace and scope leading to cloned deer and efforts with a variety of endangered species like black-footed ferret, Przewalski’s horse, gaur, and banteng, among others.
Supporters argue that the technology could revolutionize conservation. Certainly, cloning endangered animals could bolster struggling populations, while so-called de-extinction projects could potentially return lost species such as the Tasmanian tiger or woolly mammoth. Yet rebuilding nature is not a game of Legos, where the preformed shape fits perfectly onto a specific form or space. There are many risks, pitfalls, and shortcomings that face the artificially created organism. Cloned animals, though they may physically resemble their wild counterparts, can struggle to survive in natural systems and may not always help in addressing issues such as the loss of genetic diversity in depleted wildlife populations. Ecosystems are constantly changing, and the wild species residing within them must also change if they are to survive and achieve resilience in the long run. It is far too early to tell exactly how well cloned animals can partner with this complex ecological dance.
Furthermore, many conservationists worry that cloning efforts, particularly for purposes of “re-creating” extinct species, though exciting at one level, actually divert critical resources away from far more effective and proven conservation strategies such as habitat restoration or preventing illegal harvesting and trade. In addition, de-extinction efforts raise many ethical concerns. Even if researchers succeeded in recreating a woolly mammoth, for example, birthed presumably by an African elephant, how would such creatures adapt to today’s environments, particularly when we consider habitat and climate change? With Arctic systems already under tremendous pressure, could reintroducing such an animal have unintended consequences for both the introduced beast as well as other species?
And then there are the welfare concerns for the animals themselves. Cloning often results in health issues for the surrogates as well as for the cloned animals themselves such as large birth sizes, organ defects, and premature aging. Generally speaking, cloned animals, genetically engineered for traits like larger size, faster growth, or increased disease resistance, are more likely to experience problems such as organ defects and premature aging, as well as altered (and sometimes unpredictable) behavior. Dolly the Sheep, for example, had to be euthanized at the age of six years due to progressive lung disease. These issues undermine cloned animal’s survival and raise ethical questions about the harm inflicted during the cloning process. When it comes to cloning, what benefit for what risk is the equation that looks for a solution in the conservationist’s mind.
Cloning has already demonstrated some potential to conserve endangered species like Przewalski’s horses and black-footed ferrets. Both these species recently faced near-extinction due to a combination of habitat loss, unregulated hunting, and disease. In both cases, the remaining species population had been reduced to just a few individuals and thus the species’ genetic diversity had significantly narrowed. With the successful application of cloning technology, genetic diversity–a vital component of long-term species survival–was significantly increased. Today, the populations of both species, while still endangered, are steadily increasing.
In the context of broader conservation efforts, cloning technology also has the potential, at least, to play an important role in mitigating the effects of habitat loss and climate change. As these two factors continue to threaten biodiversity, cloning may be seen as a complementary tool to traditional conservation strategies. Climate change, for instance, is causing shifts in ecosystems and altering the conditions under which many species live. Some species are unable to adapt quickly enough, leading to a decline in population numbers. Cloning could theoretically help by preserving and reinforcing genetic diversity in species that are at risk of being unable to adapt to rapid environmental changes.
In theory, cloning could also aid in the restoration of ecosystems by helping to re-establish key species that are essential to ecosystem health, such as pollinators, apex predators, and herbivores. This could, in turn, support the overall biodiversity of an ecosystem, possibly making it more resilient to environmental stresses. On the other hand, there is concern that rather than improving the function of current ecosystems, reintroduced wildlife created by cloning could actually disrupt existing ecosystems or outcompete native species for food, territory, or mates. This could lead to significant and unforeseen consequences, especially if the cloned animals have traits that make them unusually resilient, aggressive, or highly competitive.
In addition to ecological risks, the practical challenges associated with cloning, such as its low success rate and high costs, make it a less viable solution compared to more established and cost-effective conservation strategies. Cloning is an intricate, resource-intensive process that often involves a high level of failure. A large number of cloned embryos must be created to achieve even a small number of viable births and the surrogates implicated in the processes also face higher mortalities.
And, regardless of outcomes, reintroducing cloned individuals into the wild does not automatically resolve the underlying issues that may have led to a species’ decline. Habitat loss and climate change still pose monstrous threats, and cloning technology alone cannot reverse larger environmental factors. For cloning to be truly effective as a conservation tool, it can’t be a shortcut or a standalone option. Instead, it must be part of a broader, integrated approach that includes sustainable practices that address the root causes of biodiversity loss.
For hunters, the opportunities and risks associated with cloned wildlife are particularly noteworthy. While cloning could eventually allow for increased harvests for some species, critics argue that the practice, especially if used widely, risks commodifying and devaluing wildlife, morphing our hunting tradition into a purely transactional experience, especially where cloning is used to create animals with desirable traits for hunting in controlled environments This shift could fundamentally alter the cultural and spiritual significance of hunting, raising concerns about cloning’s long-term impact on the community’s values and on public scrutiny and acceptance.
In some ways, certainly, the rise of cloned wildlife challenges the core tenets of the North American hunting community. Organizations like the Boone and Crockett Club and the Quality Deer Management Association, for example, have openly criticized genetic manipulation, often pointing to grotesque outcomes, such as deer bred with antlers exceeding 500 inches that cannot lift their heads to a natural position, let alone evade pursuit in any meaningful way. In their arguments, these organizations emphasize the importance of fair chase and the benefits of long-term preservation of natural ecosystems rather than the creation of artificial ones.
For individual hunters, cloned game introduces complex decisions. Would the majority of hunters pay a premium for genetically engineered game, or would they reject such practices as an affront to tradition? The economic implications are also significant. The exotic wildlife industry in the U.S. generates billions annually, and cloning could amplify this trend. Yet, as cloned animals proliferate, their availability might erode the value of genuine hunting experiences, undermining the connection to nature that draws many individuals to the practice.
As cloning technology continues to progress, hunters and conservationists face critical choices. Will cloned wildlife coexist with traditional hunting practices, or will it upend them entirely? For some, the prospect of “Franken-wildlife” raises alarm bells about the loss of authenticity and the ethical treatment of animals. For others, cloning offers a chance to rethink how humans interact with nature, blending innovation with tradition.
By advocating for ethical guidelines and collaborating with scientists and policymakers, hunters can help integrate cloning as a complement to conservation. Establishing clear boundaries for the use of cloning technology will be essential, and public education will also play a vital role in shaping the future of cloned wildlife. Raising awareness about the benefits and risks of cloning can foster informed decision-making and promote dialogue among stakeholders. This collaborative approach can help align technological advancements with the values of sustainability and respect for nature that underscore the North American hunting community.
The rise of cloned game is not just a scientific milestone–it is a challenge to the values that define hunting and conservation. In the end, the question is not just whether we can clone wildlife, but whether we should. The answers will define the balance between innovation and tradition, shaping the legacy we leave for future generations of hunters and wildlife enthusiasts. As the story of the Montana Mountain King reminds us, the stakes are high, and the choices we make today will resonate not just in our community, but across North America, and the world, for many years to come.
