Florida's citrus industry is fighting for its life. After two decades of devastation from bacteria-caused citrus greening disease — known scientifically as huanglongbing, or HLB — production has collapsed from more than 250 million boxes in the early 2000s to a tiny fraction of that today. Growers have endured hurricanes, shrinking acreage and the slow death of millions of trees. Now, the state is planting more than 300,000 citrus trees developed using CRISPR gene-editing technology, hoping to restore an industry that once defined Florida agriculture.
This is a story of scientific ingenuity and economic urgency. But it is also a story of regulatory inconsistency that risks slowing the very innovations Florida desperately needs.
HLB is not just another crop disease. The bacterium that causes it attacks the tree's vascular system, degrading fruit quality and eventually killing the plant. There is no cure. Traditional measures — pesticides, removal of infected trees, even protective screenhouses — have proven insufficient at scale. For many growers, the only realistic path forward is to plant trees that can tolerate or resist the disease.
That is where biotechnology enters the picture.
CRISPR gene-editing allows scientists to make precise changes to a plant's DNA. In citrus, researchers are using it to tweak genes that influence how trees respond to HLB. Crucially — from a regulatory point of view — many of these edits do not involve adding foreign DNA. Instead, they create small changes that could, in principle, occur naturally or through conventional breeding — only much more slowly.
Because of that distinction, U.S. regulators often treat CRISPR-edited plants differently from traditional genetically engineered, or "transgenic," crops, which do contain DNA from other organisms. CRISPR-edited plants frequently face lighter scrutiny or are exempt from certain rules altogether.
At first glance, that might seem sensible. But look closer, and the logic unravels.
From a scientific standpoint, what matters is not how a genetic change is made, but what that change does. A plant with a precisely targeted mutation produced by CRISPR may be functionally identical to one produced by older methods — or even by conventional breeding. The method tells us little about the risk.
Yet our regulatory system remains fixated on process rather than product.
CRISPR-edited citrus trees are being planted in commercial orchards with streamlined oversight. Meanwhile, other promising solutions — such as transgenic rootstocks engineered for HLB resistance — face longer, more burdensome approval pathways, even when the end result may be equally safe.
The inconsistency also sends a confusing message to the public. By regulating CRISPR-edited plants more leniently than transgenic ones, policymakers implicitly suggest that there is a difference in safety. That is not supported by the evidence. Major scientific bodies — from the National Academy of Sciences to the World Health Organization — have consistently concluded that genetically engineered crops, including transgenic ones, are no more risky than conventionally bred varieties.
Florida's citrus crisis exposes the consequences of that outdated framework. Growers are not interested in philosophical distinctions between genetic engineering techniques; they are trying to keep their farms alive. They need access to the full spectrum of tools modern science can offer.
Of course new crop varieties should be evaluated for environmental and agricultural impacts. But that evaluation should be based on the characteristics of the plant itself — its traits and behavior in the field — not on the technique used to create it.
Florida is already demonstrating what is possible when science, public investment and industry align. The large-scale deployment of CRISPR-edited trees is a testament to that progress.
But if we truly want to revitalize Florida citrus, we need to bring our regulatory system into the 21st century. That means abandoning arbitrary distinctions between "gene-edited" and "transgenic," and introducing a coherent, science-based approach.
Florida's citrus growers are taking a risk on new technology because they have no choice. Policymakers should ensure that outdated regulations do not stand in their way.
The future of Florida citrus may depend on it.
Henry I. Miller, a physician and molecular biologist, is the Glenn Swogger Distinguished Fellow at the Science Literacy Project. He was the founding director of the FDA's Office of Biotechnology. Kathleen L. Hefferon is an instructor in microbiology at Cornell University.