
Quantum is the New Cloned Sheep
Posted September 03, 2025
Chris Campbell
I still remember when Dolly the sheep made headlines.
It was the late ’90s. I was in grade school. Every news channel said the same thing: humanity had crossed a threshold. We cloned a living, breathing mammal from a single cell.
Wait… WHAT?!
Jurassic Park, my favorite movie at the time, had long implanted the idea in my fertile brain.
Now it was real.
If we could clone a sheep, what next? Humans? An extinct triceratops? An army of Bruce Lees? I, for one, was really into the idea of seeing “life after Dolly.”
And then… to my great disappointment… I got nothing.
Dolly aged, got arthritis, and died at six. The world shrugged. Twenty years later Barbra Streisand cloned her dog. Big whoop.
But turns out, the story hadn’t ended—it just slipped out of sight.
And the silence was intentional.
The Dolly Pattern
Cloning didn’t disappear. It consolidated.
Labs refined the tech. Instead of Jurassic Park, they cloned cattle for agriculture, pets for rich people, and mice for medical research.
Quiet, unsexy work.
And the really big breakthroughs went behind closed doors.
The institutions that stood to gain the most—governments, pharmaceutical giants, militaries—absorbed the best minds.
They didn’t broadcast every advance. They didn’t want to. The Dolly moment was the flare.
After that came the fog.
After that? Stem cell research, regenerative medicine, and things like CRISPR. When scientists talk about reprogramming cells today—turning skin cells into neurons, for example—that lineage traces back to Dolly.
And the “Dolly phase” is where quantum computing is entering right now.
From Sheep to Qubits
Quantum computers feel like cloning in the ’90s: world-changing and impossible to ignore.
But after the initial hype, the headlines died down. You don’t see nightly debates about qubits on CNN.
But that doesn’t mean nothing is happening.
It means everything that matters is happening quietly. It means, like cloning, it just went subterranean.
Hedge funds quietly hire physicists with Nobel-level résumés. Governments pour billions into “research initiatives” buried in budget bills.
Tech giants run experiments in labs you’ll never tour.
It’s Dolly all over again.
Why Silence Matters
High frequency trading gave Wall Street an edge by shaving milliseconds off trades. That was infrastructure: cables through mountains, servers glued to exchanges, math faster than your blink.
Quantum isn’t a faster cable. It’s a new dimension. A way to process possibilities simultaneously, not sequentially. If anyone cracks quantum computing beyond toy problems—even if that’s a big ‘if’—the winners won’t just be ahead. They’ll be playing an entirely different game.
And that’s why silence is so valuable.
If you’re working on a tool that rewrites the rules, you don’t advertise it. You consolidate. You hire quietly. You prepare while the rest of the world moves on.
(Maybe you also hide the fact your clones developed more limbs than they were supposed to.)
The Edge That Rewrites the Game
Cloning wasn’t about sheep.
It was about proof. Proof we could probably rewrite biology at its root.
Quantum isn’t about cracking one code or pricing one derivative faster. It’s about proof we can rewrite computation at its root.
Finance knows this. Defense knows this. The medical industry knows this.
And the public? They get the “gee-whiz” headlines, not the strategic truth.
When Dolly was announced, people thought cloning would change daily life overnight.
It didn’t.
But it did change the world in ways that only became obvious years later—in supply chains, in research labs, in the quiet places where breakthroughs matter most.
Quantum is following the same path.
The revolution won’t come with fireworks. It will come in whispers, footnotes, and vague job titles.
Like Dolly, it might spur hundreds of innovations in unexpected places. And then the world will wake up to find its foundation rearranging under its feet.
That blurry little line is where you’ll find us on the hunt. Because if there’s a “there there,” we want to know exactly where it is…
And, of course, how to play it.