On designer babies, GLP-1s, plant wisdom, and why the most evidence-based thing you can do is come home to your body
Here’s where we are:
We have gene-editing technology capable of rewriting the human germline. We have injectable medications that override the body’s appetite signals with such precision that they have been called the most effective obesity drugs in history. We have Botox smoothing the faces of women aged 35+, continuous glucose monitors on the arms of people who do not have diabetes, longevity clinics offering NAD+ infusions and biological age testing, and the emerging promise of “designer babies”, embryos selected or edited for specific genetic traits before implantation.
We have more interventions, more technology, more pharmaceutical sophistication than any generation before us.
And by most measures, including chronic disease burden, rates of depression and anxiety, infertility, autoimmune conditions, metabolic dysfunction, ecological health, we are not flourishing.
I am not raising this to be glib. I am raising it because I think it is the most important clinical and philosophical question of our moment: if the interventions keep arriving and the flourishing keeps failing to materialize, what does that tell us about the framework?
This is the final post in the Born of the Earth series. It is the one I have been building toward.
I want to be precise rather than reflexively dismissive about CRISPR (Clustered Regularly Interspaced Short Palindromic Repeats) and designer babies.
The science of germline gene editing is genuinely extraordinary. The ability to target specific sequences of DNA with the precision that CRISPR-Cas9 offers has opened possibilities in the treatment of hereditary disease that were unimaginable a generation ago. For individuals and families carrying devastating genetic conditions like Huntington’s disease, cystic fibrosis, sickle cell disease, this technology represents real hope, and that hope deserves to be taken seriously.
What I am raising questions about is something different: the extension of this logic from treating disease to engineering enhancement. The “designer baby” concept of selecting or editing embryos for traits like intelligence, physical characteristics, or optimized immune function, takes the anthropocentric engineering model to the limit.¹ It applies the philosophy of industrial optimization to the process of human reproduction itself.
And the problems with this are not only ethical, but biological. A systematic review of CRISPR germline editing ethics published in HEC Forum in 2025, drawing on 182 peer-reviewed articles, found that safety concerns dominated the literature, specifically, that editing errors can cause DNA deletions, gene mutations, and chromosomal aberrations that are then passed forward to every subsequent generation.¹ We do not yet know what we do not know about the long-term consequences of germline editing, and by the time we find out, those consequences will already be heritable.
There is also something worth naming at the philosophical level. The premise of the designer baby is that human potential is a problem to be solved through better engineering of the input. That if we could just get the genetic starting code right, the rest would follow. But everything in this series has been pointing in the opposite direction: that the expression of genetic potential is shaped overwhelmingly by environment, relationship, ecological exposure, meaning, and ancestral inheritance.
The term epigenetics inherently puts terrain above the code. Optimizing the code while leaving the terrain unaddressed is not a path to human flourishing. It is a very expensive way to miss the point.
I want to address GLP-1 receptor agonists directly, because they are the most culturally significant pharmaceutical development of the last decade and because the conversation around them illustrates exactly the dynamic I am trying to name.
GLP-1 agonists, i.e. semaglutide, tirzepatide, and their class relatives, work by mimicking a gut hormone that regulates appetite, gastric emptying, and insulin secretion. They are, as a pharmacological feat, remarkable. The weight loss outcomes in clinical trials have exceeded anything previously achieved by medication alone.
But the emerging real-world data is asking harder questions. A January 2026 systematic review and meta-analysis by researchers at the University of Oxford, published in The BMJ and covering 37 studies of more than 9,000 adults, found that people who stopped GLP-1 and other weight loss medications regained weight at an average rate of 0.4 kg per month, which is four times faster than after behavioral weight management interventions. The projected return to pre-treatment weight was calculated to be within 1.7 years after discontinuation of therapy, with comparable loss of the cardiometabolic benefits.² For newer agents, including semaglutide and tirzepatide, the regain rate averaged 0.8 kg per month with return to baseline in approximately 1.5 years.² Approximately 50% of patients stop GLP-1 medications within the first year, often due to cost, side effects, or the inconvenience of long-term injections.³ An accompanying editorial in The BMJ concluded that GLP-1 receptor agonists are “no magic bullets for treating obesity.”²
The mechanism is worth clarifying: GLP-1 agonists work by overriding the body’s appetite signaling. They do not address the upstream conditions such as sleep deprivation, chronic stress, ultra-processed diet, social isolation, sedentary lifestyle, and disrupted gut microbiome, the very conditions which dysregulated appetite signaling in the first place. When the drug is removed, the terrain reasserts itself.
I am not arguing against using these medications when they are genuinely indicated. I am making an observation about the frame. The error is framing them as a solution rather than a tool, treating them as a replacement for the terrain-level work. The data is now showing us the consequences.
In the 1930s, dentist and nutritional researcher Weston A. Price traveled the world studying traditional cultures that had not yet been exposed to industrialized food systems. He documented fourteen isolated groups: Swiss alpine villages, Inuit communities, indigenous peoples of sub-Saharan Africa, Polynesia, the Australian outback, and the Andes. He then compared the health of community members who had maintained traditional diets with those who had adopted the processed, refined foods of Western commerce.⁴
The findings were consistent and striking across every culture visited. Those living on traditional, nutrient-dense, whole food diets (which varied enormously in composition from culture to culture), had exceptional dental and physical health, virtually no chronic disease, and robust reproductive vitality. Those who had adopted refined flour, refined sugar, and canned goods showed rapid physical degeneration: rampant dental caries, narrowed dental arches, reduced facial development, lowered immunity, and a cascade of chronic health conditions, often within a single generation.⁴
Price’s research methods are imperfect by contemporary standards, and his work has been critiqued on those grounds. But the core observation has found increasing support in modern literature about the role of traditional fermented and whole foods in immune regulation. Traditional food systems produced robust health across radically different dietary compositions, while departure from those systems produced degeneration across microbiome diversity and nutrient density.
What strikes me most about Price’s work is what the traditional cultures he studied had in common: not a particular macronutrient ratio, not a specific protein source, not a supplement protocol. They practiced being in relationship. With their food, with their land, with the biological wisdom accumulated across their specific ancestral lineage. They ate what their bodies had co-evolved to receive. And by every measure Price could document, they were thriving.
The emerging field of psychoneuroimmunology was established through the landmark work of Robert Ader, Nicholas Cohen, and David Felten at the University of Rochester beginning in the 1970s. It demonstrated that the brain and immune system are in continuous bidirectional communication, not independent systems operating in isolation.⁵ Chronic stress suppresses immune function through sustained HPA axis activation and elevated cortisol. Social isolation upregulates pro-inflammatory gene expression and downregulates genes involved in antibody production.⁵
The landmark 1981 volume Psychoneuroimmunology gives us the scientific framework for understanding what traditional medicine had always held: that the mind, the emotions, the quality of relationships, and the sense of meaning are not separate from physiology. They are physiology.⁵
Psychoneuroimmunology postulates that the immune system communicates with the brain through signaling molecules called cytokines, which function similarly to neurotransmitters by mediating physiological responses with local, systemic, and neurological effects.⁵ Under stress, cytokines mobilize immune cells toward sites of injury and signal the brain to produce fatigue, pain sensitivity, social withdrawal, and anhedonia, states nearly indistinguishable from anxiety and depression.⁵ This is not coincidence. The problem arises when chronic psychological stress keeps that system persistently activated, producing the same inflammatory and neurological consequences in the absence of any actual physical threat.
The clinical implications are significant. Chronic stress suppresses immune function and increases inflammatory markers. Social isolation increases inflammatory cytokines and cortisol. A sense of purpose and meaning, known as ikigai in the Japanese tradition, has been documented in Blue Zones research. It is associated with reduced inflammatory burden, and measurably longer life.⁶
Together, this research explains that the nervous system and the immune system are a single integrated system of defense, and they are continuously shaped by the quality of a person’s inner and outer life.
Working with herbs is not, in my practice, primarily about replacing pharmaceutical compounds with botanical ones. It is not simply a matter of choosing a safer or more natural version of a drug. Plant medicine, at its deepest level, is a practice of right, reciprocal relationship, with the living world, with the co-evolutionary history that connects the human body to the plant kingdom, with the specific intelligence encoded in a whole plant that four hundred and fifty million years of biochemical conversation has produced.
When I work with adaptogens to support a depleted nervous system, I am not just administering a cortisol modulator. I am inviting the body back into a relationship it evolved to have, to self-regulate with its own negative feedback cycles. When I recommend specific herbs for gut integrity, immune calibration, or lymphatic support, I am working with the co-evolutionary intelligence of the plant kingdom, the secondary metabolites, the synergistic phytochemical profiles, the biological complexity that cannot be reduced to a single active compound without losing most of what makes it effective.
This is not mystical; it’s ecological. And it is increasingly what the research on whole plant medicine versus isolated compounds is beginning to bear out.
The body recognizes these plants. Not as medicine in the pharmaceutical sense, as building blocks, precursors, messengers and regulators. As partners in a conversation that began before we had language for it.
I want to be very direct about this, because I think the answer is both simpler and more demanding than most wellness content suggests. We will never biohack our way into health.
The people who live the longest and healthiest lives on earth do not share a supplement stack, a macronutrient ratio, or a pharmaceutical protocol. They share purpose. They share a community. They share meaningful work and embodied physical life and food grown close to the land they inhabit. They share belonging: to a faith community, a family, a place, a story larger than their individual experience. They share the practices of their ancestors, refined across generations of living in relationship with a specific ecology.
Weston Price documented this in the 1930s. The Blue Zones researchers documented it in the 2000s.⁶ The psychoneuroimmunology literature documents the mechanisms by which these factors translate into immune function, inflammatory regulation, hormonal balance, and lifespan. The epigenetics research shows how the quality of these relationships shapes gene expression across generations.
This can’t be purchased, injected, edited, or engineered. It is practiced. It is chosen, again and again, in the texture of daily life.
Top human potential produces not just the absence of disease but genuine vitality, resilience, clarity, and the capacity for deep relationships. This requires ecological integration. It requires the body to be in right relationship with the living world it co-evolved within: with microbes, with plants, with soil, with other humans, with meaning, with the ancestral wisdom encoded in traditional food and medicine systems. It requires being, in the fullest sense, at home in the body.
I became a pharmacist because I believed in healing. I spent years inside a system designed to manage disease, and I watched it do extraordinary things for some people and fall profoundly short for many others. Not because of bad intentions; the people who work in that system, by and large, care deeply. But because the framework itself cannot see the terrain. It was not built to.
I became an herbalist because I found the edges of what I had been trained to offer and walked toward what was on the other side. I found that the plant kingdom had been patiently and generously waiting for me to arrive. I found that my body had an intrinsic knowledge about plants that preceded my education. I had been taught to distrust this recognition and I am still learning to trust it again.
I am a pharmacist and an herbalist and a health coach and a human being who is still, every day, learning what it means to live in relationship with my own body, my own ecology, my own inheritance.
This series has been my attempt to articulate the framework that holds all of it together. The epigenetic terrain shaped before we are born. The relational body that needs connection the way it needs food. The co-evolved partnerships with bacteria, fungi, and plants that our biology depends on. The worldview that either honors these relationships or strips them away. And the practical, daily, imperfect, deeply worthwhile work of coming home to them.
That work is available to every person reading this. Not through a drug, a device, or a germline edit. Through attention. Through relationships. Through the slow, radical act of tending the terrain.
The plants are still here. The wisdom is still here. The body still knows the way.
If this series has landed for you, if you are ready to stop managing downstream and start tending the terrain, I would love to continue the conversation.
Book a Discovery Tea Chat: calendly.com/rawfork/discovery-call
Or start with the free Natural Medicine Cabinet Remake Guide: pages.marinabuksov.com/medicinecabinet
This is Post 5 of 5 in the Born of the Earth series. Thank you for reading. Thank you for caring enough to ask the upstream questions. The work you are doing on yourself is work you are doing for the generations that come after you.
Be sure to catch the other posts in the series:
Post 1 – Your Genes Are Not Your Destiny
Post 2 – The Most Underrated Health Variable Is Not Your Diet
Post 3 – We Declared War on Nature. We Lost
Post 4 – The Root Cause Beneath the Root Causes
Roots and reverence, Marina
Marina Buksov, PharmD | Holistic Health Coach | Clinical Herbalist | marinabuksov.com
Citations numbered by order of appearance (AMA style).
→ Want more herbal wisdom like this? Start here.
If you’re feeling stuck, overwhelmed, or unsure where to start on your herbal journey, I’m here to help.
Let’s talk it through together.
I offer a free discovery call where we’ll explore your health or holistic professional career goals and map out supportive first steps tailored just for you.
Book a Complimentary Health Consultation
Book a Holistic Professional Tea Chat
Ready to transform your medicine cabinet? The Natural Medicine Makeover Guide helps you swap synthetic fixes for safe, effective natural remedies. Packed with expert tips from a pharmacist + herbalist, it’s your go-to resource for a healthier, holistic lifestyle. Plus, see my favorite products in my herbal dispensary.