How Mexico's Water Dragons Are Giving Scientists Blue Balls

Scientists race to save Mexico's axolotls from extinction. With only 36 left in 2013, researchers study their reproductive organs' regeneration. Efforts include creating germoplasm banks and reintroducing them to Xochimilco canals.

How Mexico's Water Dragons Are Giving Scientists Blue Balls
Ever thought about cloning your lost limb? Well, axolotls have been doing it for centuries. Jealous?

The axolotl. There it is, resplendent in its unearthly pinkish hue, as delicate as a glass sculpture, immortalized on currency, in pop culture, and, oh yes, now at the centre of a scientific scramble to keep it from blinking out of existence. But this isn’t just another sad tale of a species on the edge—no, this one is like something out of a science fiction novel. The axolotl doesn’t just look like it comes from another planet; it practically has the magical powers to match. And yet, despite these powers, by 2025, it’s quite possible there won’t be a single one left paddling about in the wild.

Let’s rewind a bit, though. In the halcyon days of 1998, there were around 6,000 axolotls merrily drifting through the canals of Xochimilco in Mexico City. Think of it: thousands of tiny, otherworldly creatures with fringed gills, glassy eyes, and that characteristic grin, living out their lives in peace. Fast forward to 2013, and we’re down to a shocking 36 individuals. Not 3,600. Thirty-six. Population statistics like that would give even the hardiest optimist a heart palpitation. And this year, as we near 2025, the numbers have dwindled to a point where some experts say that wild axolotls may soon vanish entirely. And, as if to turn the knife, the clock is ticking faster thanks to pollution, rising water temperatures, and invasive species—like carp and tilapia, which sound harmless enough until you realize they’re munching up axolotl eggs as if it’s a free buffet.

This ecological tragedy is particularly cruel because, in many ways, axolotls are the superheroes of the animal kingdom. Researchers like Tania J. Porras Gómez from the National Autonomous University of Mexico (UNAM) are racing against time, not only to save them but to unlock secrets that could change medicine as we know it. This tiny, vulnerable creature can regenerate its own organs. Cut its heart, liver, or skin, and it regrows, undeterred. Limbs? The same. It’s like Marvel forgot to give the axolotl its own comic series.

But while we know it can regenerate many body parts, the one thing we’re not quite sure about is the very thing that’s most vital for the survival of the species—its reproductive organs. If it can regenerate those, then theoretically, it could survive even the worst blows from nature, or us. This possibility has researchers ecstatic, not just for the axolotl’s sake, but for its implications in human medicine. A breakthrough in reproductive organ regeneration might revolutionize treatments for infertility in humans. So you could say that saving the axolotl is more than an ecological effort; it’s practically a grand experiment in unlocking the secrets of life itself.

Starting in 2021, a team of brilliant researchers from UNAM’s Institute of Biomedical Research and the Faculty of Higher Studies at Iztacala got to work. They’ve zeroed in on the axolotl’s germ cells, analyzing its testicular cells to understand if, like other body parts, they can produce sperm that stores all the necessary genetic information. Early signs are promising. There are reservoirs of germ cells that look like they might be able to regenerate when needed—a natural fallback system, if you will. And what an astonishing revelation this is! Porras Gómez and her team are cautiously optimistic. If the axolotl’s reproductive cells can indeed regenerate, they might finally have a weapon to save this species and ensure it can reproduce, even in the face of adversity.

Of course, nature preservation doesn’t come with just one plan. There’s another project in the works, led by Norma Moreno Mendoza of the same institution, to create a repository of germplasm—a sort of biological treasure chest filled with axolotl genetic samples. Think of it as a genetic library, an Ark for axolotls that might one day help replenish their numbers. This repository brings together genetic material from various universities, research centers, and labs around the world, so that if Mexico’s wild population runs dry, they’ll have options. It’s like the Smithsonian but with DNA instead of dusty artifacts. And it’s global; they’re sharing these samples with institutions in France and the United States, pooling their resources to keep the axolotl alive.

Then, of course, there are the chinamperos. These are the farmers and local residents of Xochimilco, whose agricultural practices date back centuries and who have become unlikely allies in the battle for the axolotl’s survival. Led by the biologist Luis Zambrano González, UNAM’s team has been collaborating with these locals to release axolotls back into areas of the canal system that have been spared the worst ravages of pollution. This isn’t just conservation; it’s a revival of an ancient partnership between humans and nature, with the people of Xochimilco actively working to bring the axolotl back to its ancestral home. Here, conservation takes on a personal dimension—it’s not some government mandate or distant, lofty goal but a tangible part of everyday life.

And it’s not as if the axolotl has gone unnoticed. Beyond scientific circles, it’s a cultural icon in Mexico, appearing on the 50-peso note and in everything from video games to mascots for sports teams. There’s even a database, AxoBase, dedicated to the axolotl’s genetic code, transcriptome, and ongoing research, freely accessible to scientists and enthusiasts alike. AxoBase represents an international network of scientists working tirelessly to keep tabs on this peculiar amphibian and its mysterious powers. But here’s the crux of it all: it’s one thing to study axolotls in controlled laboratory conditions, but releasing them into the wild, as nature intended, is an entirely different story.

Despite all this, and despite the hope that these regenerative abilities bring, working with axolotls is about as easy as raising orchids on Mars. They are astoundingly sensitive. The slightest changes in temperature or water quality can wipe out populations in a heartbeat. And while we marvel at their powers of regeneration, the speed at which they reproduce and grow is, well, let’s just say it doesn’t break any records. A snail’s pace would be faster.

And so, here we are, racing against a countdown that grows shorter each day, trying everything from cutting-edge genetic research to community collaboration, all to preserve a creature that has persisted, against all odds, in the heart of one of the largest cities in the world. It’s not just a fight to save an amphibian; it’s a fight for a marvel of nature, for a little piece of magic that somehow found a place in this world and refuses to leave quietly. The fate of the axolotl is still unwritten, but one thing’s certain: this battle for survival has put the world on notice. Because if there’s one thing worse than losing this remarkable creature, it’s knowing we might be losing the secrets it holds, secrets that might one day save lives—ours included.