The impossibility and necessity of quality of life research

There are probably a number of reasons why the medical community pays surprisingly little systematic attention to quality of life, either in research or in clinical care. Possibly our society's fascination with high technology and the rescue of endangered lives has encouraged the medical profession to focus on acute care, where their interventions can bring dramatic results. And perhaps because such high-tech acute care requires great knowledge and skill, medical educators have not devoted as much time to educating students and residents about the more mundane matters of medicine. Another reason, on which I will focus here, is the fact that scientific research into quality of life is particularly difficult, methodologically. It does not lend itself easily to the crisp, clean answers for which we strive in basic science. It is "soft," inexact, not "hard." In this article I hope to explain why such research is indeed fraught with hazard. The scientists are attempting a task that is, in a profound philosophical sense, impossible. They have no direct access to the data they most need, and every method of validating their results is fundamentally flawed. Nevertheless, I will also suggest how we can fruitfully undertake such research and, equally important, why we must.     

The politics of recognition in culturally appropriate care

Over the last 20 years, the concept of culturally appropriate health care has been gradually gaining popularity in medicine and public health. In calling for health care that is culturally appropriate, minority groups seek political recognition of often racialized constructions of cultural difference as they intervene in health care planning and organization. Based on interview narratives from people involved in community organizing to establish a federally funded community health center in a mid-size New England city, I chart the emergence of a language of "culturally appropriate health care" in language used to justify the need for a health center. An identity model of recognition underlies the call for ethnic resemblance between patient and provider seen in many culturally appropriate care programs. I contrast this model of health care with earlier calls for community access and control by activists in the 1970s and explore the practical and theoretical implications of each approach.     

Medical education and society.

As health care changes under the pressures of restraint and constraint our vision of the future of medical education should be based on the medical school''s responsibility to the community. The medical school is "an academy in the community": as an academy, it fosters the highest standards in education and research; as an institution in the community, it seeks to improve public health and alleviate suffering. The author argues that to better achieve these goals medical schools need to become more responsible and responsive to the population they serve. Medical schools have been slow to accept fully the social contract by which, in return for their service to society, they enjoy special rights and benefits. This contract requires that medical educators listen to the public, talk honestly and constructively with government representatives and assess the needs and expectations of the community.     

Links between ecology and ecophilosophy,ethics and the requirements of environmental management

Abstract This paper concerns the ways that our philosophical attitudes to the environment can influence the appropriateness of methodologies for solving environmental problems. Sometimes a public perception is expressed that science takes scant regard of the concerns of the people affected. Is it possible for scientists and managers to respond to such concerns and still fulfil the logical and methodological rigour that their discipline demands? I believe we have to address fundamental issues of definitions and meaning before useful debate can occur among parties interested in environmental decision-making. Delving into the ideas behind our everyday practices of environmental management should promote re-evaluation of our beliefs, attitudes and concerns about nature. I examine environmental science from both ethical and managerial perspectives. I explore how our assumptions and attitudes might influence ecology, in particular issues raised by environmental impacts and conservation. The major points argued here are:

• 1 Any legal requirements of environmental investigations must be met, but perhaps we should act more in line with the spirit of legislation.
• 2 The managerial imperatives of environmental investigations need to be examined closely because of widely perceived problems with the use of science in impact assessment. We must change either our methods of assessment or the regulations and administration of environmental impact assessment (EIA).
• 3 Science is not paramount in the processes of environmental decision-making. We need to be aware of how psychosocial factors affect the ultimately political decisions about environmental problems.
• 4 Philosophy and ethics offer a range of perspectives that may benefit ecology. Scientists need to be aware of these just as they should be of their own leanings about how we treat nature.
• 5 Scientists need to translate social concerns or demands about the environment into properly defined scientific questions, and then study them as a matter of urgency.
• 6 Ecology needs to guide ecophilosophers and environmental ethicists as to how nature works, why we expect variability in ecosystems, what is naturalness, and other issues where a scientific understanding of nature has progressed beyond the point where these observers of ecology have so far taken inspiration.

     

Surviving as an underrepresented minority scientist in a majority environment

I believe the evidence will show that the science we conduct and discoveries we make are influenced by our cultural experience, whether they be positive, negative, or neutral. I grew up as a person of color in the United States of America, faced with challenges that many had as members of an underrepresented minority group. I write here about some of the lessons I have learned that have allowed me to survive as an underrepresented minority ­scientist in a majority environment.     

How academic biologists and physicists view science outreach

Scholars and pundits alike argue that U.S. scientists could do more to reach out to the general public. Yet, to date, there have been few systematic studies that examine how scientists understand the barriers that impede such outreach. Through analysis of 97 semi-structured interviews with academic biologists and physicists at top research universities in the United States, we classify the type and target audiences of scientists' outreach activities. Finally, we explore the narratives academic scientists have about outreach and its reception in the academy, in particular what they perceive as impediments to these activities. We find that scientists' outreach activities are stratified by gender and that university and disciplinary rewards as well as scientists' perceptions of their own skills have an impact on science outreach. Research contributions and recommendations for university policy follow.     

The Practitioner of Science: Everyone her Own Historian

Carl Becker's classic 1931 address ``Everyman his own historian'holds lessons for historians of science today. Like the professional historians he spoke to, we are content to displaythe Ivory-Tower Syndrome, writing scholarly treatises only forone another, disdaining both the general reader and our naturalreadership, scientists. Following his rhetoric, I argue thatscientists are well aware of their own historicity, and wouldbe interested in lively and balanced histories of science. It isironic that the very professionalism that ought to equip us towrite such histories has imposed on us a powerful taboo that rendersus unable to do so. We who count ourselves sophisticated in describing the effects ofsocial forces upon past scientists have been remarkably unconsciousof the ways our own practices are being shaped by our need (and perhapsmore importantly, the needs of our teachers' teachers) to distinguish ourselves from scientists who write history. Our fear of presentism ingeneral and Whig history in particular is really a taboo, that is, anexcessive avoidance enforced by social pressure. It succeeds at makingour work distinct from histories written by scientists, but at the awful cost of blotting out the great fact of scientific progress.Scientists may be misguided in expecting us to celebrate great men,but they are right to demand from historians an analysis of the processof testing and improvement that is central to science. If progress in general is a problematic term, we could label the process ``emendation.' This revised version was published online in July 2006 with corrections to the Cover Date.     

On the Trail of Atmospheric Mutagens and Carcinogens: A Combined Chemical/Microbiological Approach

Major ecological problems of our polluted troposphere includeairborne toxic chemicals, acid rain and photochemical smog,all three of which are now recognized as being closely relatedchemical phenomena. We also recognize that inorder to developcost-effective strategies for their control, which protect publichealth and the environment, there must be close scientific interactionsbetween chemists and biological scientists. For example, ofrapidly emerging importance is the development of risk assessmentevaluations for specific aspects of each of these problem areas.In preparing such assessments, chemists must define the "exposure,"and biological scientists the "effects." In this paper, I discuss an example of how such close interactionsproved indispensible in our search for atmospheric mutagensand carcinogens. Thus, an integrated chemical/ microbiologicalprocedure for the isolation and identificationof particulatechemical mutagens in respirable diesel soot and ambient particlesis described. Emphasis is placed on our use of the short-term,Ames Salmonella typhimurium bacterial mutagenicity test as arapid, and relatively inexpensive, means of following the biologicalactivities of these environmental mutagens through the chemicalsteps of their separation, isolation and identification fromhighly complex environmental samples. Possible mechanisms offormation of these particulate mutagens are discussed. Theyinclude the reactions of polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons presenton the surfaces of combustion-generated particles with gaseousco-pollutants such as nitrogen dioxide plus nitric acid, andozone. In discussing this research on a societally "relevant" problem,we illustrate the importance of "Science as a Way of Knowing."We further suggest that this integrated approach to scientificproblem solving by chemical and biological scientists mightserve as an example of a discussion topic on human ecology forundergraduate courses in the natural sciences.     

In the trenches: lessons for scientists from California's Proposition 71 campaign

I describe a number of valuable lessons I learned from participating in California's Proposition 71 effort about the role that scientists and rigorous scientific advice can play in a public political process. I describe how scientists can provide valuable information and advice and how they can also gain a great deal from the experience that is valuable to a practicing research scientist. Finally, I argue that in the future, building similar broad coalitions to support biomedical and other areas of scientific research will be essential to protect publicly funded science. Thus, a key lesson from the Proposition 71 experience is that engagement of scientists with diverse nonscientific groups can make a big difference and that scientists must actively engage with the public in the future if we are to contribute robustly to the medical and economic health of our communities.     

The need for academic generalists

Academia should be willing to shoulder some of the responsibility for the current dearth of new therapeutic drugs. Our research funding is predicated on the assumption that it will bring value to society, but our emphasis on scientific specialization hinders our ability to add value when a broader vision is required. A solution is the creation of an academy of science generalists motivated to bring together clinical and basic scientists, academia and the private sector, government legislators and industry. A small investment in academic generalists could yield benefits far beyond its modest cost.     

Giving Voice to Children's Voices: Practices and Problems, Pitfalls and Potentials

In this article, I explore the lessons that the anthropological debates of the 1980s about writing culture might have for contemporary childhood research within anthropology and the social sciences more generally. I argue that the current rhetoric about "giving voice to children," commonplace both inside and outside the academy, poses a threat to the future of childhood research because it masks a number of important conceptual and epistemological problems. In particular, these relate to questions of representation, issues of authenticity, the diversity of children's experiences, and children's participation in research, all of which need to be addressed by anthropologists in their own research practices with children. Unless anthropologists do so, childhood research risks becoming marginalized once more and will fail to provide an arena within which children are seen as social actors who can provide a unique perspective on the social world about matters that concern them as children.     

Potential hazards of biotechnology: the viewpoint from the United Kingdom

(1) There is a danger that our science may be severely restricted in the future if we do not as scientists take action to inform the public. (2) Scientists are agreed that some governmental controls are essential, but there is an urgent need that these should be applied uniformly worldwide. (3) The situation has changed rapidly now that the scientists are poised to demonstrate that genetic engineering has advanced to the stage where it can be applied to the field. Only in that way can we, as scientists, demonstrate that biotechnology can help humanity to overcome the problems of health, disease, and decent living which threaten to get progressively worse.     

People's instinctive travels and the paths to science

To be the recipient of the E. E. Just Award for 2014 is one of my greatest honors, as this is a truly rarefied group. In this essay, I try to trace my path to becoming a scientist to illustrate that multiple paths can lead to science. I also highlight that I did not build my career alone. Rather, I had help from many and have tried to pay it forward. Finally, as the country marches toward a minority majority, I echo the comments of previous E. E. Just Award recipients on the state of underrepresented minorities in science.     

Science funding and infrastructures in Europe

European science in crisis. Scared? Then read on; you should be. I argue that we cannot sit back for much longer and watch our best scientists emigrate to the USA for the most productive part of their career, and that European scientists should not tolerate a funding system that neither rewards an investigator's brilliance nor the innovative nature of their research. The EC Framework Programme is due for a face lift: scientists should wield the scalpel this time.     

A year since George Floyd

The murder of George Floyd sparked an awakening, long overdue, which reverberated throughout society. As science begins to acknowledge its role in perpetuating systematic racism, the voices of Black scientists, which have largely been absent, are now being called on. As we rightly begin to make space for diverse voices and perspectives in science, we all must think about what it is we are asking minoritized individuals to do.

It has been roughly 1 year since the murder of George Floyd, an unarmed Black man, who was killed over an alleged counterfeit 20 dollar bill in Minneapolis, Minnesota (Hill et al. 2020; Kaul, 2020; Levenson, 2021). In many ways, his murder was no different than the murders of thousands of other murders of Black people in this country (Thompson, 2020; Lett et al., 2021; Tate et al., 2021). However, what distinguishes George Floyd’s murder from many other high profile cases is that it was unambiguously captured on video (Alexander, 1994), an act of bravery by Darnella Frazier, a 17-year-old Black woman (Izadi, 2021), at a time when the world was mostly housebound by a raging global pandemic. As a result, his murder reverberated through society in a way that has not happened in my lifetime. While there have been other high profile cases of murders carried out by police (Treyvon Martin, Walter Scott, Breonna Taylor, and Philando Castile, among many others), these cases failed to fully sustain the attention of a national and international audience (Chan et al., 2020; Chughtai, 2021). The murder of George Floyd was fundamentally different, and for once, more than just Black people were paying attention. His murder sparked protests across the nation led by the Black Lives Matter (BLM) movement (Day, 2015; Taylor, 2016; Banks, 2018; Taylor, 2021), and the demands for change were so loud people could not help but hear.As a Black, gay man who is also a scientist, I was thrown into despair. All of my life I have thought if I just worked hard enough, if I am kind and unthreatening, if I play the game and keep my head down, maybe I can make it in academia. Maybe then I will be seen and accepted, not just by society, but by the scientific community. George Floyd’s murder reminded me, and many of my Black colleagues, that our degrees can’t protect us, that our privileged middle-class upbringing (if we had one) was not a shield. Our lives were not worth more than a counterfeit 20 dollar bill.Science, which has always been a product of society, was not impervious to these reverberations. By late June my inbox began to slowly fill with invitations to speak at several institutions for their seminar series, retreats, or special symposia. It felt as if the scientific community, for the first time, realized that there were Black scientists among them. In the throes of my own despair, and the feeling that I needed to be doing something for my community, I began to say “yes.” I was not going to participate in the nightly protests that occurred in my newly adopted hometown of Portland, Oregon. Aside from fearing I could be next to lose my life at the hands of the police (Edwards et al., 2019), these protests were happening in the backdrop of a global pandemic. I came to the conclusion that by accepting these invitations to speak, this could be my activism, my way of sparking change, increasing visibility, and being seen not only for my own sake but also for other Black scientists.Before I write anything else, I want to be clear: I am extremely thankful to all the institutions and organizations that invited me and gave me a platform. I am extremely proud of my students’ work and of the research we produce. I am sharing my experiences with the hope that they can be instructive to the greater scientific community, but if I am being frank, there is a bit of anger.I received over 15 invitations and gave an additional three or four interviews over the course of the year. Most of these came with the expectation that I would also talk about my work in Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion. But here’s the lowdown: prior to this year, I did not view myself as someone who did Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion work. I am co-chair of the LGBTQ+ committee of the American Society of Cell Biology and a member of the Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion committee of the Genetics Society of America. I volunteer for both of these committees because they speak to something I care deeply about, the advocacy for minoritized ¹ scientists. I also embody both of these axes of diversity; so, in some way, I am only looking out for myself. This is far from being a scholar or doing “Diversity work.” I fully recognize that there are individuals who have dedicated their lives to this type of work with entire academic fields populated with accomplished scholars. So, I started this year of talks being invited because I am a Black, gay scientist at a time when science was grappling with its own systematic racism, under the guise of my nonexistent Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion work.What has this year actually taught me? The first thing it taught me is that I have been missing out. Prior to George Floyd’s murder, I had only received three seminar invitations from major research institutions and unfortunately all within a year of being posttenure. That is after nearly 6 years in my current position.In giving these talks I got the opportunity to meet with some of the giants in my field, people I have looked up to for years. I received reagents, offers to collaborate, and a litany of great ideas that will help drive my research program for years to come. I left some of these meetings truly inspired and excited to start experiments. These opportunities would have been invaluable to me, pretenure. One could argue, I did not need it. I made it even without this networking and the advantages these visits bring. Before you applaud my ability to persist and be resilient, we should take a deep look at the systems that have forced people who look like me to be doubly resilient. If George Floyd had not been murdered, would any of these invitations have happened? If the previous 6 years are any indication of a trend, I would have to say most certainly not. Why did it take a murder and the reignition of a Civil Rights movement for me to have the type of interactions I now know many of my straight, white counterparts have had from the very beginning of their independent careers? Let me be clear: this is a form of systematic racism, plain and simple.As I began to make the rounds, I was often asked to either share a bit of my journey or include my Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion work in my talks. This sometimes came at the expense of sharing my lab’s work. While I was very happy to do so, this was very much implicit in the invitations I received. At times it did feel that my inclusion was only checking a box, placating the graduate students so that they could see that their department or institution was responding to their demands. This also had the consequence of making me feel as though my science was merely performative. I was being invited to do the Diversity work institutions did not want to do. This is the tension I, and many other minoritized scientists, face. I want to share my experiences with the hopes that the next generation will have it better; but, my scholarly work is not in Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion. I fully recognize that it is my embodied diversity that is bringing me to the table; but, it is the science I want to share.On the first invitation to give a seminar, I promised myself that I was going to be honest. This meant that I would tell the truth about my experience and bare my soul over and over again. What I had not counted on was the emotional toll this would take on me. Reliving my own trauma, on a regular basis, left me emotionally drained after these visits. In one of my “stops” (I use quotes here because these “visits” were all virtual), I met with the queer, person of color (POC), graduate students. This session quickly turned into an emotional support group where I heard stories of mistreatment, racism, and discrimination. It was nearly impossible to maintain my composure. Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion work is clearly extremely important, but, maybe, we could just start by listening to the needs of the students and having a bit of humanity.The trial of Derek Chauvin has come and passed, and much to my surprise, and to the surprise of many other Black people nationwide, he was found guilty and was sentenced to prison (Arango, 2021; Cooper and Fiegel, 2021). This, of course, is not justice, not even close. Justice would mean that George Floyd is still alive and would get to live out his life in the way he chose. We are also at the beginning of the end of the pandemic. In 6 months or less, we may all be returning to life, more or less, as it was before George Floyd, before COVID-19. Does this mean we stop fighting? Does this mean that I, and many other Black scientists, suddenly disappear? For George Floyd, for countless other faceless Black people before him, I sincerely hope not. We need to continue to give Black scientists a platform. We need to ensure that they, too, are given the opportunity to network, collaborate, and interact with the larger scientific community. This means the invitations cannot stop. To further this, we need to ensure that Black scientists are included in every grant review panel, are included on speaker lists at every national and international meeting, are funded, and are in the room where funding, tenure, and other critical decisions are being made. We need to recognize that systematic racism has not gone away with Derek Chauvin’s conviction and sentencing. We need to continue to push forward. And, for all of you young, minoritized scientists (and allies) reading this, demand change and do not take "no" for an answer. I am truly sorry this has fallen on your shoulders, but enough is enough. The next generation of minoritized scientists should be recognized for their science without the additional burden of creating their own space.About the AuthorI am currently an Associate Professor of Biology at Reed College (https://www.reed.edu/biology/applewhite/index.html), which is located in Portland, Oregon. I arrived at Reed in 2014; prior to that, I was a postdoctoral fellow at the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill. I received my PhD from Northwestern University in Cellular and Molecular Biology and a BS in Biology from the University of Michigan where I was also a 4-year letter winner in track and field. My research focuses on the cytoskeleton where I study cell motility and morphogenesis using Drosophila and Drosophila derived in tissue culture cells to explore actin, microtubules, and molecular motors. My current lab is composed of fierce, determined undergraduate students. I am a member of the American Society of Cell Biology (ASCB) and the current chair of the LGBTQ+ Committee (https://www.ascb.org/committee/lgbtq/). I am also a member of the Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion Committee for the Genetics Society of America (https://genetics-gsa.org/committees/). I also serve as an editor for MBoC’s Voices series.     

Australian Indigenous Studies: A Question of Discipline

This paper is an early discussion of the ways we are approaching Indigenous Studies in Australian Universities. The focus is on how disciplinary and scholarly issues within Indigenous Studies can be interrogated and yet retain the necessary cohesion and solidarity so important to the Indigenous struggle. The paper contrasts Indigenous Studies pursued by Indigenous scholars to other disciplinary perspectives in the academy. Categories such as the Indigenous community and Indigenous knowledge are problematised, not to dissolve them, but to explore productive avenues. I identify one of the problems that Indigenous studies faces as resisting the tendency to perpetuate an enclave within the academy whose purpose is to reflect back an impoverished and codified representation of Indigenous culture to the communities that are its source. On the other hand, there is danger also in the necessary engagement with other disciplines on their own terms. My suggestion is that we see ourselves mapping our understanding of our particular Indigenous experiences upon a terrain intersected by the pathways, both of other Indigenous experiences, and of the non‐Indigenous academic disciplines. My intention is to stimulate some thought among Indigenous academics and scholars about the future possibilities of Australian Indigenous Studies as a field of endeavour.     

The physicians and surgeons of Koper from the 14th to the 17th century

Koper stands out among Istrian towns of the nordeastern Adriatic coast for its highly advanced medicine. Communal service developed between the 13th and 15th century. Beside the hospital, almshouse and a quarantine, the city also boasted highly trained physicians, surgeons and barbers. Trade, crafts and navigation prospered and numerous town intellectuals established an academy whose most active members were medical doctors. The aim of this article is to give a chronological presentation of physicians related to Koper by their birth or work and of other scientists who contributed to the development of local medicine. These includes (about forty names) S. Santorio, Ser Benvenuto, P P. Vergerio, G. Nuzio, E Nuzio, P de Castaldi, I. de Albertis, L. Zarotti, B. Petronio, I. Bratti, Z. Zarotti, A.Valdera, G. Vergerio and C. Zarotti of whom some are well known. The author wishes to systematisize the bibliography, fill the gaps and show ways for further research in the archives and museums of Istria, Triest, Venice and Vienna.     

A case for more curiosity-driven basic research

Having been selected to be among the exquisitely talented scientists who won the Sandra K. Masur Senior Leadership Award is a tremendous honor. I would like to take this opportunity to make the case for a conviction of mine that I think many will consider outdated. I am convinced that we need more curiosity-driven basic research aimed at understanding the principles governing life. The reasons are simple: 1) we need to learn more about the world around us; and 2) a robust and diverse basic research enterprise will bring ideas and approaches essential for developing new medicines and improving the lives of humankind.When I was a graduate student, curiosity-driven basic research ruled. Studying mating-type switching in budding yeast, for example, was exciting because it was an interesting problem: How can you make two different cells from a single cell in the absence of any external cues? We did not have to justify why it is important to study what many would now consider a baroque question. Scientists and funding agencies alike agreed that this was an exciting biological problem that needed to be solved. I am certain that all scientists of my generation can come up with similar examples.Open in a separate windowAngelika AmonSince the time I was a graduate student, the field of biological research has experienced a revolution. We can now determine the genetic makeup of every species in a week or so and have an unprecedented ability to manipulate any genome. This revolution has led to a sense that we understand the principles governing life and that it is now time to apply this knowledge to cure diseases and make the world a better place. While applying knowledge to improve lives and treat diseases is certainly a worthwhile endeavor, it is important to realize that we are far from having a mechanistic understanding of even the basic principles of biology. What the genomic revolution brought us are lists, some better than others. We now know how many coding genes define a given species and how many protein kinases, GTPases, and so forth there are in the various genomes we sequenced. This knowledge, however, does not even scratch the surface of understanding their function. When I browse the Saccharomyces cerevisiae genome database (my second-favorite website), I am still amazed how many genes there are that have not even been given a name.To me the most important achievement the new genome-sequencing and genome-editing technologies brought us is that nearly every organism can be a model organism now. We can study and manipulate the processes that most fascinate us in the organisms in which they occur, with the exception, of course, of humans. Thus, I believe that the golden era of basic biological research is not behind us but in front of us, and we need more people who will take advantage of the tools that have been developed in the past three decades. I am therefore hoping that many young people will chose a career in basic research and find an exciting question to study. The more of us there are, the more knowledge we will acquire, and the higher the likelihood we will discover something amazing and important. There is so much interesting biology out there that we should strive to understand. Some of my favorite unanswered questions are: What are the biological principles underlying symbiosis and how did it evolve? Why is sleep essential? Why do plants, despite an enormous regenerative potential, never die of cancer? Why do brown bears, despite inactivity, obesity, and high levels of cholesterol, exhibit no signs of atherosclerosis? How do sharks continuously produce teeth?One could, of course, argue that the knowledge we have accumulated over the past 50 years provides a reasonable framework, and it is now time to leave basic science and model organisms behind and focus on what matters—curing diseases, developing methods to produce energy, cleaning up the oceans, preventing global warming, building biological computers, designing organisms, or engineering whatever the current buzz is about. Like David Botstein, who eloquently discussed the importance of basic research in these pages in 2012 (Botstein, 2012 ), I believe that the notion that we already know enough is wrong and the current application-centric view of biology is misguided. Experience has taught us over and over that we cannot predict where the next important breakthrough will be emerge. Many of the discoveries that we consider groundbreaking and that have brought us new medicines or improved our lives in other ways are the result of curiosity-driven basic research. My favorite example is the discovery of penicillin. Alexander Fleming, through the careful study of his (contaminated) bacterial plates, enabled humankind to escape natural selection. More recent success stories such as new cures for hepatitis C, the human papillomavirus vaccine, the HIV-containment regimens, or treatments for BCR-ABL induced chronic myelogenous leukemia have also only been possible because of decades of basic research in model organisms that taught us the principles of life and enabled us to acquire the methodologies critical to develop these treatments. Although work from my own lab on the causes and consequences of chromosome mis-segregation in budding yeast has not led to the development of new treatments, it has taught us a lot about how an imbalanced karyotype, a hallmark of cancer, affects the physiology of cancer cells and creates vulnerabilities in cancer cells that could represent new therapeutic targets.These are but a few examples for why it is important that we scientists must dedicate ourselves to the pursuit of basic knowledge and why we as a society must make funding basic research a priority. Achieving the latter requires that we scientists tell the public about the importance of what we are doing and explain the potential implications of basic research for human health. At the same time, it will be important to manage expectations. We must explain that not every research project will lead to the development of new medicines and that we cannot predict where the next big breakthroughs will materialize. We must further make it clear that this means we have to fund a broad range of basic research at a healthy level. Perhaps a website that collects examples of how basic research has led to breakthroughs in medicine could serve as a showcase for such success stories, bringing the importance of what we do to the public.While conducting research to improve the lives of others is certainly a worthy motivation, it is not the main reason why I get up very early every morning to go to the lab. To me, gaining an understanding of a basic principle in the purest Faustian terms is what I find most rewarding and exciting. Designing and conducting experiments, pondering the results, and developing hypotheses as to how something may work is most exciting, the idea that I, or nowadays the people in my lab, may be (hopefully) the first to discover a new aspect of biology is the best feeling. It is these rare eureka moments, when you first realize how a process works or when you discover something that opens up a new research direction, that make up for all the woes and frustrations that come with being an experimental scientist in an expensive discipline.For me, having a career in curiosity-driven basic research has been immensely rewarding. It is my hope that basic research remains one of the pillars of the American scientific enterprise, attracting the brightest young minds for generations to come. We as a community can help to make this a reality by telling people what we do and highlighting the importance of our work to their lives.     

Sergei G. Kryzhanovsky (1891-1961)

This essay about the outstanding Russian embryologist and ichthyologist is not time to any date of his life. The cause for its appearance was an unexpected meeting with Elena N. Disler, whom I did not see almost 60 years. When I worked at the Biological Station "Glubokoe ozero" (Deep Lake), there were also biologists N.N. Disler and his wife E.F. Eremeeva with their children Lena and Vitya. At the same time, as usual, S.G. Kryzhanovsky worked at the station, who lived in Moscow in the same apartment with the Dislers. After the death of this lone scientists, his archive, mostly epistolary, was in the care of the Dislers. And Elena N. Disler (that girl Lena) proposed for me to have a look at this archive.     

Political advocacy by the American Society for Cell Biology and its partners

I trace how the American Society for Cell Biology became a strong political advocate for the scientific community. I celebrate how good leadership and an effective staff enabled its energetic volunteer organization to have an impact, but I also ask how the effort can be made more successful.Many scientists take for granted that their scientific societies advocate for the well being of their individual members and the health of science. However, advocacy is a relatively recent development that emerged over the past two decades. Advocacy is essential in a democracy because science competes for taxpayer dollars with every other activity supported by the federal government. Advocacy is also important to ensure that lawmakers adopt sensible policies. I review how the American Society for Cell Biology (ASCB) and its allies learned how to fulfill this obligation, and I ask the reader to join the effort. The objective of these advocacy efforts is to influence political decisions through education and information, but the efforts by scientific societies are completely nonpartisan. Support from both political parties is essential to meet our goals.During the 1970s and 1980s biomedical scientists discussed federal funding and public policies that affected our science. Each year the public policy staff of the Federation of Societies of Experimental Biology (FASEB) helped member societies reach a consensus recommendation on the level of federal funding for the biosciences. However, we tended to talk to ourselves because we lacked effective ways to communicate with politicians or the outside world. For the most part we relegated the responsibility for advocacy to medical school deans and presidents of research universities. Their professional associations—the American Association of Medical Colleges (AAMC) and the Association of American Universities (AAU)—generally did a reasonable job of representing the interests of the scientists who worked at their schools.