Shi now realizes the controversial nature of her work and agrees that there’s an urgent need to step up regulation and oversight of risky research. She welcomes a broader societal debate about searching for new viruses in the wild and tampering with their genomes in the lab—which some biosafety experts ardently oppose. But “they don’t have to crucify me for that end,” she told me.

After talking to dozens of scientists involved over the past year, it has become clear to me that people’s opinions about the lab leak theory, to a large extent, depend on whether or not they believe Shi. Some support her, partly because they know her as a person or understand her work, or because they are willing to put up with the messy reality of science and China’s lack of transparency. Others, possibly driven by a deep mistrust of China, grave biosafety concerns, or an intense desire for greater transparency, simply reject every piece of evidence that she offers to define her work, and regard any inconsistencies as deliberate attempts to cover up a crime.

Not surprisingly, the allegations have taken a personal toll. “I’m a human being as well, you know,” Shi told me. “Have they considered what it feels like to be wrongly accused of unleashing a pandemic that has killed millions?”

Since the outbreaks, Shi has received numerous abusive emails and phone calls, even death threats. She has been called a liar, a mass murderer, and an accomplice of the Chinese Communist Party (even though she’s not a member). In May 2020, it was falsely rumored that she had defected to France with nearly 1,000 classified documents.