Prime Slime

With all the tension and commotion, Evan needed time to relax. So Nan took him to her cabin in the Berkshire mountains for the weekend. Terri and George also joined them. They welcomed the time together in an intimate setting, without microphones, cameras, or snoopy reporters.

Currently, they were American heroes; the real Fantastic Four. Only Dexter was missing, but someone had to hold down the fort. Anyway, vacationing was the last thing on his mind. This was also an opportunity to command the lab by himself, and get some work done. He really missed Terri in the lab, but now had several students and technicians under his wing. Dexter was being groomed to direct the research lab, and fulfill his life’s dream. The future of MIFF was now largely in his hands.

The view of the Berkshires off Nan’s back deck was breathtaking. In that blissful setting they lounged, enjoying the peacefulness, in touch with nature, and sipping serious wine. The birds and bees accompanied Terri on her guitar, as she played pretty folk tunes. All was well in Evan’s world.

The rain had subsided, and the weather was picture perfect. The sunshine felt pleasant in the higher atmosphere, and kept away the bugs. It felt great to let go. But, the debate continued.

“The credit goes to my brilliant students,” Evan said, as often as he could. He threw a hand kiss Terri’s way.

“Dexter and I were clever opportunists, just like Prime Slime,” Terri replied. “The real breakthrough was yours, Chief.”

“We all had a hand in bringing this forward…and backwards,” Evan joked, as they toasted to their collective achievements.

“There’s room for compounds like MIFF in agriculture,” George insisted, “especially the way you employed them.”

“They were useful,” Evan replied, “but not the final solution.”

Suddenly he had a wild thought. “I bet some folks thought we started the epidemic deliberately, to become rich and famous.

“That’s not who you are,” George insisted. “You’re a man of integrity. The whole world is listening to you, and for good reason. You could have exploited the situation and made a bundle from your MIFF, but you didn’t. You are one class act.”

Nan kissed Evan’s cheek, as George continued. “So, tell me, did you learn your lesson on genetic engineering?”

“I still believe GMOs in the right hands can help humankind. There are a number of wonderful things scientists are doing with them. For example, GMOs saved the papaya industry in Hawaii. They mixed and matched desired traits from their large repository of crop varieties. This is the promise of genetic engineering.”

“Unfortunately, much of the technology is used to put money in the pockets of polluters,” George countered.

“Perhaps,” Evan admitted, “but let’s not be one-sided. We need to see beyond black and white, and political agendas.”

“GMOs have potential,” Terri added, “but there are questionable practices. For example, pesticide-tolerant crops merely give them an excuse to spray more.”

“At the expense of our children’s health,” Nan added. “Corn is engineered with a toxin that kills insect pests, but it’s killing butterflies and bees as well.”

“Insects are already showing resistance to the toxin, meaning we’ll have to keep manipulating crops to keep in step with disease,” George noted.

“Precisely,” Nan stated. “And each comes with a question mark with regard to safety.”

“The worst of it is this,” George offered. “Agribusiness uses GMOs to control the seed. Farmers need to buy seed each season at inflated prices. Monopolies control the wealth and squeeze small farmers off their lands. It’s a big, ugly power game!”

“I see your concerns,” Evan responded. “But think of the impact of adding vitamin A genes to rice. Infection and blindness would be drastically reduced in millions of poor children.”

Nan disagreed. “But converting brown rice to white rice removes many more nutrients. It makes no sense.”

“There are flaky elements involved,” George said. “Due to lack of regulation, the risk of GMOs escaping into the environment is high.” George shook his head in disgust.

“Distrust for politics and big business is growing,” Nan added. “We now expect the worst from corporate America.”

“It’s even worse with our current President,” Terri noted.

“They deserve the name Prime Slime as much as our plant-eating mutant,” Evan joked.

“But, now there’s no denying organic is better,” George exclaimed. “We have a mandate for change.”

“The organic movement has been growing all along,” Terri added, “mostly from the simple truth that it teaches.”

“We saw that truth unfold before our eyes,” Evan asserted. “But I still see hope in some GMO initiatives. Here’s another one for you: There’s a GMO yogurt product that’s lactose-free and contains high levels of natural B vitamins. As Nan would tell you, deficiencies of these vitamins lead to birth defects, anemia, heart disease and nerve disorders. Such a product could profoundly benefit health.”

“These vitamins are already available from natural sources,” Nan replied. “It would do more good to produce unsweetened, full-fat yogurt from raw, organic milk, with clinically-proven strains.”

“They’re developing crops that tolerate aluminum, boron, salt, drought, frost, and other stressors, allowing plants to grow where they would otherwise not flourish.”

“Yeah, but then they engineer salmon to grow larger and faster, and design plants to make drugs. That sounds scary to me.”

“Granted,” Evan conceded, “but molecular biology is here to stay. There is potential to do good, and it is safer than prior methods. The technology has advanced to play a useful role, and should not be dismissed summarily.

“With regard to sustainability, why use all that land, water and energy to grow plants that produce tiny amounts of nutrients, when we can make them a thousand times more efficiently using engineered microbes? We need to go where sound science and common sense come together.” The silence that followed was deafening.

“I guess it’s all about integrity,” George consented.

“Not everyone is bought and sold,” Terri pointed out.

“Yes, but many physicians are ignorant to real health,” Nan suggested. “And the profit motive is pervasive.”

“Unfortunately, not many doctors have a holistic view,” Terri remarked. “Their aim is to have dominion over nature, not to live in harmony with it.”

“That’s the western model in a nutshell,” George replied, “a complete disregard for nature.” Meanwhile, on Nan’s back deck, nature could not be denied.

“Science’s legacy is largely good,” Evan countered. “Without science, the technological advances of the 21st century would not exist. Old age and leisure would be rare. We’d be burdened with disease, like it used to be. Science has made it much easier for us.”

“And now it threatens to destroy us,” George countered.

“Perhaps so,” Evan responded. “It’s corrupt, I’ll admit.”

“It’s all economic,” Terri concluded. “The worst aspect of GMOs is that it solidifies corporate control.”

“It’s also being used by our enemies to hurt us,” George added.

Evan and George–scientist and farmer–were once worlds apart in their thinking. Yet, they came to see each other’s point of view, and the need to work together. Their synergy had the power to help mend a fractured world.

“How about you, George?” Evan asked. “You gotta be pleased with how this worked out.”

George flushed with emotion. “Prime Slime was inevitable, and a clear victory for the organic approach. Yet, how can anyone applaud such mindless suffering? I am as responsible for this mess as anyone. And, for that, I’ll never forgive myself.”

Evan shared the same mixed feelings. The events of this merciless summer had opened his eyes to many things. He now saw Big Pharma and Big Agribusiness for what they were. These opportunists, like Prime Slime, prey on our weaknesses. They too were exploiting a broken system.

Granted, Evan was no saint. His mistreatment of women left a stain on his past. But he had made great strides in compassion and self-awareness during this eventful summer. It helped him clean up the slime in his personal life, and grow as a scientist.

“The notion that all bacteria are bad is misguided,” he told his new friends and colleagues. “Pasteur’s germ theory may have helped improve the human condition, but our brutish efforts to kill germs have been disastrous. We need to stop seeing microbes as the enemy, and learn to live in harmony with them.”

“Pasteur’s legacy is today’s drug-based medicine,” Nan added.

“The germ theory doesn’t cut it,” Terri conceded. “Healthy plants and healthy people are immune to disease, and live in harmony with most germs.”

“However, if we continue to eat poorly, and treat the earth poorly, more slime will be created,” Nan reckoned.

“Prime Slime was a correction,” George offered. “It could happen again. Next time it could target people.”

“But, now you have their attention, Chief,” Terri said. George and Nan agreed. They toasted to the prospect of a greater good.

“We could do without the drama this time,” Nan conceded.

“Breakdowns often precede breakthroughs,” George noted. “Our society was fractured. But now there’s hope.”

“That’s fully evident on this deck,” Evan assured them all, as he lifted his glass once more. Terri gave a quick thought to Dexter.

“A toast to integrity,” said George. “Our work won’t be easy. Evil forces would have us return to the status quo.”

“That is no longer tolerable,” Evan insisted, as he picked up the phone. He too was thinking about Dexter.

“Is that you, Chief?”

“Destroy Prime Slime!”

“But…”

“Just do it!”

“O.K. Chief. No sooner said than done.”

“I’ll talk with you later about a technical directorship at Burrstone, and heading up the MIFF enterprise.”

“I’d welcome that, Chief.”

The conversation ended with a collective sense of closure. The era of Prime Slime was over, but its impact on the future of food and health care had just begun.