Beyond the Genetic Superman: Nietzsche, DNA, and the Myth of Human Perfection

Is it truly possible to achieve the superhuman? Without entering into the question of Friedrich Nietzsche, biology increasingly deconstructs what a superhuman would be.

After the discovery of DNA, the ambitious Human Genome Project (HGP) sought to study human genetic information and understand what each base pair could reveal, both about the species and about individual variation. It aimed to examine the characteristics that integrate humans into the species Homo sapiens, as well as those that differentiate one person from another: first by grouping people into human subgroups—ethnicities and families—and finally by individualizing each person and making them unique. The exception is identical, or monozygotic, twins, whose differences are initially epigenetic rather than based on differences in base pairs.

This idea is very well illustrated in the American series Dark Angel (2000–2002), starring Jessica Alba in the leading role of Max Guevara. The narrative centers on a genetic-engineering institute in the United States where “test-tube babies” are created through biotechnological techniques in order to produce the perfect soldier. To this end, DNA “cocktails” are generated at the institute, and the heroine turns out to be a transgenic woman: a mutant who, thanks to her human DNA combined with feline DNA, is endowed with literally superhuman abilities. These include exceptional hearing and vision, superhuman jumps—like Javier Sotomayor and Iván Pedroso combined in a single person—as well as a rapid capacity for learning and physical recovery from diseases and accidents.

The climax of the series comes when it is discovered that she has perfect DNA, which makes her even more valuable to those pursuing her. This concept of perfection was based on the view, still defended by many, that ideal DNA is completely functional, with functionality understood as the capacity of DNA to be translated into proteins that perform specific functions. In Max Guevara, there was supposedly no meaningless combination, nor what has often been called “junk DNA,” from the English term junk DNA, used to refer to non-coding DNA.

Let me explain this briefly and simply. The central dogma of molecular biology states that DNA—represented by four letters: A, T, C, and G—is copied, or transcribed, into RNA—A, U, C, and G—and then expressed as proteins. Proteins are the functional components of the cell; it is worth remembering that being part of a structure is also a biological function.

What the HGP revealed is that not all combinations of letters in our DNA can be translated into proteins and that, if considered coldly, this would be DNA that merely occupies space. This is the DNA that has been called “junk,” and its existence has been, for the most optimistic, one of the great puzzles science has faced over the last 70 years. It goes without saying that, for some positivists, the existence of non-coding DNA was a disappointment.

When I watched the series for the umpteenth time, I reflected on the vision of genetics it offers and contrasted it with my current doctoral studies in molecular biology, a quarter of a century later. The truth is that, if generations belong to their times, then series—which capture the thinking and feeling of a generation—are portraits of historical moments and always have a background in which this is expressed. In the case of Dark Angel, this background appeared as the race to complete sequencing—the exact order of all DNA—was coming to an end and attempts to understand what had been discovered were beginning.

In light of current knowledge, our transgenic agent would not even remotely be a superpowered girl, at least from a genetic point of view. In reality, she could be seen as one of the most vulnerable creatures.

Today, we know that, in every cell division, in each cell of our organism with a complete cell cycle, the genetic mechanisms that allow the production of daughter cells are susceptible to errors consisting of base substitutions, deletions, or insertions, which we call mutations. These are de novo mutations in somatic cells. They are cumulative in nature and constitute the basis for numerous processes, such as aging, chronic and neurodegenerative diseases, cancer, and many others. They occur constantly and could occur in much greater numbers if it were not for the presence of enzymes such as DNA polymerase, which is responsible, among other functions, for repair.

Another defense mechanism of our organism is the very fact that not all our DNA is coding. Let us take into account that only 1.5% of our DNA is coding and the other 98.5% is not. Evidently, de novo mutations are dispersed in that “sea” of nitrogen bases that, for a long time, we considered junk, which considerably reduces the probability of affecting functional regions or, at least, delays their effects. Seen this way, it would be chaos if all our base pairs had a specific function.

However, even from a more critical perspective, not everything is bad news. Today, we know that many fragments of this “junk DNA,” when transcribed, can still perform regulatory functions, like orders or commands, on DNA itself, other RNA molecules, or even proteins. This is due to the presence of non-coding RNAs, whether smaller in size, such as microRNAs, or larger, such as long non-coding RNAs.

In short, as a television product, it was captivating to me and instilled in me a love for genetics. Unfortunately, declining audience numbers meant that the series did not reach its intended conclusion. However, beyond aesthetic molds and the cliché of conspiracy theory, it seriously addressed criticisms of highly current topics such as genetic improvement, cloning, eugenics, and agribusiness, which have gone from being laboratory chimeras to realities on our tables.

In conclusion, becoming supermen or superwomen depends more on the social dimension, such as education, training, values, and belief systems, than on our genetic code. I would not dare to say whether we have reached the utopia of Friedrich Nietzsche, but I am almost certain that James Watson and Francis Crick would be very satisfied with our genetic potential.