Gene tech law rewrite has a gaping ethics gap

“I don’t know what the answer is around environmental ethics. It’s not part of my current thinking.”– former science minister Dr Shane Reti, select committee testimony, March 5, 2025

Comment: The Gene Technology Bill is back on Parliament’s agenda, with its second reading scheduled this week. One significant question that urgently needs addressing: who will help New Zealand grapple with the ethical and societal questions these technologies raise?

Despite a broad agreement that genetic engineering regulations are in desperate need of updating and future proofing, the bill, introduced late 2024, has received little attention since. Given it was rushed into Parliament, and at the time anticipated to be fully operational by 2025, there have been no significant updates since the Health Committee released its report in October 2025, which recommended the bill move on with changes (albeit nearly 15 pages of recommendations).

The existing framework, the Hazardous Substances and New Organisms Act 1996, has long been regarded as one of the most restrictive regimes in the OECD. Supporters of the gene tech bill argue it has prevented researchers and companies from developing and using existing technologies that could improve health, agriculture and environmental management. Those opposed to the bill argue the proposed regime is too permissive and doesn’t address ethical concerns such as Māori intellectual property rights and limited decision-making authority, animal welfare concerns, or local councils losing their right to exclude GMOs from their regions.

Gene technology is far less controversial today than it once was. Medical uses have broad political and cultural support, but contentious debates around its uses for conservation and food production remain at the forefront. Many claim benefits are overstated – that there has been little evidence of the economic benefits overseas – while others say it’s important for future proofing to have regulatory readiness before it’s too late.

The harder question is not whether we can use these technologies. It’s about how and when we should. Remember Jurassic Park’s fabled warning, “Your scientists were so preoccupied with whether they could, they didn’t stop to think if they should”?

Should genetically modified ryegrass be released if it reduces methane emissions but risks contaminating neighbouring organic farms? Should threatened taonga species be genetically modified if that is the only way to prevent extinction – such as Kauri trees? Is it acceptable to invest in de-extinction projects such as bringing back the moa while existing species are disappearing? At what point does medical gene editing move beyond treating disease and into altering the DNA of future generations?

These questions have impact beyond what technoscience can measure, to having impacts on the cultural, philosophical, economic and political worlds of Aotearoa. These questions prompt us to ask, “What kind of society do we want to become?”

They also reveal a fundamental problem with proposed new legislation: while it is closely modelled on Australia’s regulatory system, there is no equivalent to Australia’s Gene Technology Ethics and Community Consultative Committee. The bill creates pathways for assessing risk and issuing licences, but it has no dedicated mechanism for grappling with broader ethical questions about the future direction of biotechnology.

We have had such an overseeing body in the past. Following the Royal Commission on Genetic Modification in 2001, the government set up Toi te Taiao, the Bioethics Council. Its role was not to decide whether individual projects should be approved, instead, it was charged with helping New Zealanders, regulators, and policy makers think through the cultural, ethical and spiritual dimensions of emerging technologies. It encouraged public dialogue, developed guidance for policymakers and examined issues ranging from nanotechnology to human-animal gene transfer.

The council was disestablished in 2009 and, ever since, decisions about new organisms have largely been framed as technical matters best left to scientific experts and regulators. Technical and scientific expertise is essential. But questions about values and ethics can’t be left to scientific expertise alone.

This has been clear in some of the controversies currently surrounding the gene tech bill. Debates about kaitiakitanga, Te Tiriti obligations, environmental stewardship and acceptable levels of risk are ultimately debates about values. Scientific evidence can inform those discussions, but it cannot resolve them.

New Zealand’s history with genetic modification is that we should neither reject nor wholeheartedly embrace biotechnology. It was always about recognising that these technologies can reshape ecosystems, industries and human biology, and this raises questions that extend beyond science itself.

Today, the technology is moving faster than ever. Gene editing is more precise, cheaper and more accessible than the genetic modification techniques that dominated public debate 25 years ago. Parliament is understandably focused on updating an outdated regulatory framework, but regulation alone is not enough.

If New Zealand is prepared to rewrite the rules governing gene technology, it should also be prepared to rebuild the institutions that help us think about its consequences.

What is missing from the current debate is the creation of a place where ethical, cultural and societal questions can be examined openly and independently. A modern bioethics council, drawing expertise from te ao Māori, medicine, law, philosophy, environmental science and public policy, wouldn’t tell New Zealand what choices to make. It would help us have the conversations necessary to make those choices well.