The Dodo’s Second Coming

Socratic Dialogue

If the new dodo is to survive, it must learn politics as swiftly as flight

By Plutonix

Two millennia ago, the philosopher Socrates walked the streets of Athens, questioning the nature of justice, virtue, and the good life. Had he lived in our modern age, he might have turned his gaze to the volcanic shores of Mauritius, where a most peculiar scientific and ethical question is now waddling to the fore: the resurrection of the dodo. This dialogue brings Socrates into conversation with Cephalus, who relays the strange news of this “de-extinction” project. What begins as a noble scientific endeavour quickly unravels into a humorous yet sharp inquiry into the true predators of the modern age — the politicians, the economists, the business leaders and the purveyors of cheap celebrity — forcing us to ask: Is it the dodo that must adapt to modern Mauritius, or must Mauritius finally prove itself worthy of the dodo?

Reviving the Dodo. Pic – Colossal Biosciences

Socrates: My dear Cephalus, I hear strange reports from the islands of the Indian Ocean — that the people of Mauritius, having long since lamented the loss of their most famous bird, now plan to bring it back to life. What sort of magic is this?

Cephalus: It is not magic, Socrates, but science — or at least the new priests of the laboratory so proclaim. They call it “de-extinction.” They wish to recreate the dodo from the genes of its distant cousin, the Nicobar pigeon. They say they can hatch a bird that will waddle once more upon the volcanic soil of Mauritius.

Socrates: A noble ambition! And tell me, will this new dodo be taught to beware of sailors, of dogs, or perhaps of economists and politicians, businessman…?

Cephalus: That may be the greatest challenge. The old dodo lived in an island without predators; the new one shall awaken in a republic teeming with them — some feathered, some furred, and most of them bipedal. The modern dodo may find that the most dangerous species in Mauritius walks on two legs, speaks in parliament, and answers to no natural predator.

Socrates: Ah, the two-legged predator! I have met his kind before. He hunts not for food, but for influence. Tell me, Cephalus, will the new dodo at least be given a ministry — perhaps of Cultural Heritage — that it might defend itself through bureaucracy?

Cephalus: It might well deserve one. For if it returns, it will carry upon its plump shoulders the weight of Mauritian identity. Children will grow up saluting it, politicians will use it in their speeches, and some clever businessman will surely patent “Dodo Cola” or “Dodo Airlines.” The poor bird may wish it had stayed extinct.

Socrates: I see. And how do the scientists propose to protect this resurrected emblem from extinction once more? Will they place it behind glass, or allow it to roam free among the people?

Cephalus: They say they will restore the forests, purge the rats, and replant native trees. But you know, Socrates, how such plans end. Funds may vanish, committees may multiply, and soon the dodo will be eating imported maize in a resort garden, posing for selfies with tourists.

Socrates: A tragicomic fate — from extinction to exhibition! Yet I wonder, Cephalus, how the dodo will adjust to the new society of Mauritius. The bird once feared nothing. Now it will find itself surrounded by economists discussing growth rates, journalists chasing scandals, and citizens arguing over corruption. Even a dodo may grow anxious in such company.

Cephalus: You speak truth. And it is said the island is already embroiled in controversy over another species — the monkeys. Thousands are captured and shipped abroad for experiments. Some call it a trade in cruelty; others call it a necessary industry. The new dodo might find that Mauritius is not a sanctuary, but a marketplace.

Socrates: Indeed! I can imagine the dodo attending a press conference. “Gentlemen,” it would say, “I have been resurrected to symbolize hope, not profit!” But the reporters would only ask whether its feathers could be monetized, or if its genome could boost biotech investments.

Cephalus: The irony, Socrates, is that the scientists who will recreate the dodo do so in the name of conservation, yet they must collaborate with those who once mastered the art of exploitation. If the new dodo is to survive, it must learn politics as swiftly as flight — though it never had wings for that.

Socrates: Then perhaps we should found a school — the Academy of Dodo Studies — where the bird may be trained in the ways of public relations, survival, and diplomacy. It could learn how to avoid predators wearing suits and how to deal with budget committees.

Cephalus: And what of its mental adjustment, Socrates? The dodo lived a simple life — eating fallen fruits and building nests on the ground. How will it react to social media, to influencers, to drone cameras hovering above? It may think the heavens themselves have filled with metallic hawks.

Socrates: Perhaps it will tweet, Cephalus. Not in song, but on the platform where every creature chirps nonsense to the world. It may soon have more followers than the philosophers!

Cephalus: I would follow it myself — especially if it posts about ethics. Imagine a dodo reminding men that extinction is a human invention. Yet, knowing our times, it will soon be drawn into politics. One faction will call it a “left-wing bird,” another a “foreign clone.” Someone will even claim it was funded by foreign powers.

Socrates: In that case, its survival will depend not on science, but on public relations. Perhaps it will form its own party — the Dodo Revival Movement — with the slogan, “We are back, and this time we’re voting.”

Cephalus: And it will campaign on environmental reform, asking men to stop treating the island as a laboratory. Yet some cunning orator will accuse it of hypocrisy — “How dare you preach preservation when you were extinct!”

Socrates: Poor creature! It will learn that resurrection brings new torments. Death is peaceful; rebirth is political. But tell me, Cephalus, do you think the dodo’s return will at least restore some harmony to the island’s soul?

Cephalus: Possibly. It might remind Mauritians of what they once destroyed, and what they still can save. The dodo’s second coming could inspire humility — if only men would listen to a bird that cannot even fly.

Socrates: Then let us hope the new dodo becomes a philosopher — one who observes humanity with calm detachment, and teaches that survival is not merely a biological achievement, but a moral one. For truly, Cephalus, it is not the dodo who must adapt to the new Mauritius — it is Mauritius that must prove itself worthy of the dodo.

Cephalus: A fitting conclusion, my friend. Let the bird return, then, not as a curiosity, but as a mirror to our own folly. And if it disappears again, may it not be from our neglect — but from laughter at the absurdity of men who needed to resurrect a bird to remember their humanity.

Socrates: Well said. Now, let us pray that when the dodo comes back, it will forgive us — and that no one tries to turn it into a minister.

The dialogue between Socrates and Cephalus has waddled its way to an unsettling conclusion: the dodo’s second coming may be a feat of science, but its survival will be a test of morality and politics. The bird that once perished from a lack of vigilance now risks being consumed by a new set of dangers: bureaucracy, commercial exploitation, and the relentless noise of the modern news cycle. The true irony lies in the fact that humanity is seeking to resurrect a symbol of its past folly while remaining blind to its current one.

Mauritius Times ePaper Friday 24 October 2025