The entire premiss of Jurassic Park, either movie or novel, is that sometimes science develops faster than the ethics that might guide it. In other words, just because we can do a thing (i.e., bring back extinct dinosaurs), does that mean we should? I have no problem with unlimited research. This is the only way boundaries are broken and paradigms are rewritten. The ethical problem is hidden within the economic model that drives the developer and investors to recreate the animals of the Jurassic period: they can make a lot of money. One witnesses a similar problem in “Alien” where crew and cargo are expendable if they can bring back a secret weapon that will be priceless. The supposition made by the scientists is fundamentally incorrect: they think they can control the new creatures that they create because they are smarter than the animals and have better technology, ergo bringing dinosaurs back from extinction will be safe. The developers and scientists are in error because although they partially understand the mechanics of cloning, they do not fully understand the long-range implications of the chaotic nature or the animals which they create. They are applying their twentieth-century principles of zoology to creatures that lived seventy million years ago and that were highly dangerous even then. Since lizards and reptiles are mostly very small in their contemporary experience, they really have no idea how dangerous a reptile the size of man (the Alien) might be. Both the T-Rex and the Velociraptor are hunters and predators of the first order, and in their time, at the top of the food chain and willing to take advantage of their size and speed to kill and eat anything that might come their way such as a person, which did not exist in their Jurassic era. Neither the Alien nor the velociraptor are bounded by ethical considerations in their quest for survival. When things go wrong, such as losing power, and the animals escape their carefully constructed confinement areas, all hell breaks loose. It was never a question of if this might happen, it was always a question when it would happen. Man cannot construct a foolproof enclosure for nature. The chaotic nature of the world guarantees that the animals will escape, that they will reproduce, and that they will be hungry. The scientists in the novel (and the movie) approach the problem of cloning dinosaurs as if it were just another series of of experiments designed to resolve a question they had been given: can you clone dinosaurs from ancient DNA. Regardless of whether this can be answered or solved, no one seems to be bothered by the problem of what do we do with the adult animals if we are successful? This was the same problem posed by Mary Shelly over two hundred years ago in her novel, Frankenstein or the Modern Prometheus, in which a scientist, experimenting on corpses, reanimates a dead person using bits and pieces of several dead bodies. The scientist is successful, but the result of his experiment is a hideously deformed and monstrous creature that bears a painful to those human creatures from which it (he) was built. The problem is the same: no measures have been taken to deal with the long-term results of the experiments, which are, for their creators, alive. Frankenstein’s monster had to deal with the existential problems of meaning and purpose with which all of us deal, but his existence was both tragic and problematic given his unique parentage and hideous appearance. The dinosaurs of Jurassic Park don’t suffer from this problem because they are not self-aware like the monster was self-aware (was the Alien self-aware?), but for the velociraptors, it is still the Jurassic era, and they are still hungry, and now the snacks are both trickier to catch and warm-blooded. In an era in which genetic manipulation is more prevalent, should we be asking harder questions concerning outcomes and possible unforeseen outcomes before they come looking for us as if we were just another snack?