From the patenting of genes and human tissue to human-animal clones, Next explores many of the cutting-edge issues--and their potential misuse--in the future of genetics.

For decades, author Michael Crichton has been injecting his distinctive blend of pulse-pounding adventure and scientific acumen into the veins of the general public.  I, for one, have been fascinated with how effective and satisfying such a blend can be, first in The Andromeda Strain and later in works such as Jurassic Park and Disclosure.  With his newest book Next, Crichton takes on the touchy subject of genetics and the biotech industry.  After learning of the premise, my hopes were high that this novel could be impacting on a scope not unlike his previous releases. 

I was wrong. 

Although Next provides some thought-provoking content, something seems amiss.  Maybe the deadlines for getting the book out were too tight, and concessions had to be made.  Maybe the research was too much to splice into a finely crafted story.  Maybe I’ve just watched too many episodes of Mythbusters and have been trained to think all things scientific fall into the categories of confirmed, busted, or plausible.  Whatever the reason, the book seems unfinished, which is quite unfortunate.

Now to the book: While we run through our hectic daily lives, there are scientists in the world working on modifications to the genomes of various creatures.  The constant hope is that these genes, through isolation, can be modified and adapted for a variety of purposes.  Some are worthy pursuits, such as finding the cure for deadly diseases.  Others are more experimental in nature, involving gene modifications of chimps and other animals.  Still others are for outright commercial exploitation, such as turtles whose shells glow in the evening with corporate logos (perish the thought!).  All involve vast sums of money, which never seems to be in short supply in the biotech industry.  That is, until the lawyers show up and attempt to lay claim to a portion of the vast fortune while changing the rules of genetics in the courts. 

Enter Frank Burnet, a gentleman who was being treated for cancer when university scientists noticed that his cells could be used for the advancement of science.  They got greedy, and then, through legal means, made Burnet’s body the property of the state.  In other words, his cells could be acquired at any time by the state for medical purposes.  And not only his cells, but those of his blood relatives as well.  Add bounty hunters to the mix and the situation gets precarious.

This, in itself, would’ve been a fine story.  Crichton, however, decides to add at least seven additional plot lines to Next, with not all of them playing an equal role in the final work.  This forces the story to lean heavily on scientific merits and research through pseudo news articles strewn throughout.  As a result, Next becomes a transgenic book that attempts to combine science and fiction, having results not unlike those of character Josh Winkler, whose brother gets hold of a vial of an experimental spray he’s been working on.  The brother instantly becomes more mature, but soon begins to fall apart physically.  For all the plausible scientific explanations, the story loses credibility in how the main plot gets resolved.  It’s too neat, too convenient.  I wanted to see the transgenic ape and the family that ‘adopted’ him succeed in the end, but not at the expense of the story’s heart.

The science of genetics is incredibly controversial.  Regardless of your stance on issues that touch on this (stem cell research, for one), there’s an underlying premise that should be considered: whose property are we?  If we go to the doctor and have blood drawn, does the doctor own the rights to those cells?  Should we have a “Property Of” stamp tattooed on the bottom of our foot if this is the case?  It’s the stuff of nightmares—until we realize that we were never our own property to begin with.  When Jesus came onto the scene two millennia ago, he purchased the rights to all people through his death and subsequent return to life—through blood, of all things.  I wonder what the biotech firms would think of that idea.

In conclusion, Next provides some intriguing ideas, but falls short in the area of sheer storytelling, one of Crichton’s strong points.  Maybe next time, he’ll succeed in melding the two into one coherent whole.