What is now known as the "Hwang Affair"—an incident where falsification in scientific research has erupted into a full-blown scandal—will profoundly shake the world of biological research. This controversy will likely be as impactful as the "water memory" or "cold fusion" debates in terms of scientific-media controversies, and perhaps even more so, given the scientific, medical, ethical, and political stakes, as well as the increasingly evident fraud involved. We are left wondering how such a scandal could occur. This story has become a suspense-filled chronicle, resembling a noir novel: no one has died yet, but it features a fallen hero—a dark, Machiavellian figure; a political power hungry for results; investigative journalists willing to take risks; and young scientists working on the internet. It’s a high-tech, globalized, online fable—a modern one. Undoubtedly, a movie or books will soon capture the thrill of what history might remember as "Cloningate," similar to the Watergate scandal.

Beyond the drama, we must understand why this scandal happened, looking at the conditions, mistakes, or manipulations that allowed it. It is also crucial to consider the repercussions, particularly regarding the processes of peer review and publication analysis in scientific research. Finally, we need to consider the impact of this affair on the future of human embryonic stem cell research, which, as I write this, is still awaiting implementation decrees in France, 18 months after the August 6, 2004 revision of bioethics laws. The decree is expected to be signed by the Prime Minister, and if so, it will likely be the topic of our next column, which we might title: "Finally!"

Let's begin with a summary of the events (see Box 1). Since the publication of Hwang's initial article in 2004, we had already noted the ethical concerns surrounding the procurement of the eggs used in the study. Had undue pressure been placed on the donors? Were they compensated, raising the serious risk of the "commodification" of women’s bodies? In the end, it was these questions that led to the discovery of scientific fraud and the fall of Woo Suk Hwang, once seen as a living demi-god.

From the 2004 paper to those in 2005, which claimed the production of 11 lines of human embryonic stem cells, and more sensationally, the cloning of an Afghan hound, Hwang had become a modern-day hero. He was a national hero, symbolizing the new South Korea—one that had emerged from the era of dictatorship, economic crises, and the looming nuclear threat from the North. Internationally, he was celebrated, even named Scientist of the Year. But the fall has been hard for a man now seen as a deceitful academic leader. Right until the last moment, when Seoul National University presented its investigation findings on January 12, 2006, a skeptical public wanted to believe it was all a mistake. But apart from Snuppy, the Afghan hound who was genuinely cloned, everything else was fabricated and false. We now know that Hwang even escorted his lab associates to MizMedi Hospital, where he had convinced them to donate their eggs for the sake of science. Just weeks ago, he offered a remorseful public apology, all while claiming he had no knowledge of the origins of the oocytes used!