Lessons learned from Art Pardee in cell cycle, science, and life

This essay is written to honor Dr Art Pardee's 85th birthday (July 13, 2006). In this essay, I have summarized the lessons I learned from Art and the cell-cycle research I performed in Art's laboratory during my postdoctoral training period. I have also summarized some research from my own laboratory that has been inspired by the lessons I learned from Art, including the interactions between cell cycle and cell death regulators and discovery of novel polyphenol- and copper-based proteasome inhibitors. Finally, I have discussed the potential use of these proteasome inhibitors in cancer prevention and treatment.     

Crafting a career in molecular animation

When I first set out on a path to becoming a cell biologist, I would have never imagined that it would lead to a career in molecular animation. I had always thought I would follow a more traditional route. What happened? In this essay, I will describe the experiences that led to my decision to forge a career as an academic molecular animator, and how my work has evolved over the years. I will also provide some resources and advice for those who may be considering following a similar route.     

Teaming up: from motors to people

When I reflect on how I became a cell biologist and why I love being one today, one thing that comes to mind is the many terrific collaborations I have had. The science I am most proud of from my graduate and postdoctoral training would not have been possible without working in teams with other scientists. Now, in my own group, much of our best work is being done collaboratively, both within the lab and with other labs. In this essay, I will highlight my experiences working in teams as a trainee, the role teamwork has played in my own research group, and how important I think collaborative science is for the future of biological research.     

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.     

Novel eicosanoid pathways

This article reviews a lecture I was honored to present at the Leon Wolfe Symposium in Montreal on March 25, 2004. The lecture described my research career, which started with my interaction with Wolfe at the Montreal Neurological Institute as a postdoctoral fellow and research associate and was followed by additional research discoveries after I left Montreal for my first academic position at the Research Institute, The Hospital for Sick Children and University of Toronto. The article consists of two parts. The first part involves the discovery (in Wolfe’s laboratory) of a new pathway of arachidonic acid, in which a bicyclic prostanoid structure (later called prostacyclin by John Vane and his group) was described, and its further development in Toronto, which led to the discovery of the conversion of the bicyclic prostanoid into 6-keto prostaglandin F_1α. The second part deals with the hepoxilin pathway, a pathway I discovered during a sabbatical leave in Japan with Professor Shozo Yamamoto, which was followed by a stay of several months in the laboratory of Professor Bengt Samuelsson in Sweden. I deal with the historical aspects of both pathways and end with interesting novel aspects of hepoxilin stable antagonist analogs in the treatment of solid tumors in experimental animals.     

Prior consent as a liberal theory of health care rationing: commments of Savulescu's constructive critique

[In his review essay in this issue of Bioethics,] Julian Savulescu lucidly summarizes and assesses each essay in Strong Medicine. I would like to clarify a few important general points about prior consent as a conceptual framework for the ethical rationing of health care, correct several specific misreadings, and defend my basic claim despite some acknowledged problems.     

Getting around

This essay is a response to a request from the Editor for a "historical reflection" relating to work on DNA repair from my laboratory. The writing has been an interesting exercise since it made me recall the people I have worked with and some of the things we found and the many we missed. In the course of the writing, an article was published in The New York Review of Books, which argued that there is a "pervasive dishonesty in the practice of science" relating to the authorship of scientific papers. It seemed to me that the events I was relating spoke to that charge and I appreciate the opportunity to comment.     

For Francisco Varela: explorer of the phenomenal world

Francisco Varela was an innovative thinker and researcher as well as a pioneer in the present dialog between science and Buddhism. In this essay, I will first speak briefly about some of Francisco's contributions to the world at large and then relate a few vivid moments from my own interactions with him.     

It's a Wonderful Life: A Career as an Academic Scientist

Many years of training are required to obtain a job as an academic scientist. Is this investment of time and effort worthwhile? My answer is a resounding “yes.” Academic scientists enjoy tremendous freedom in choosing their research and career path, experience unusual camaraderie in their lab, school, and international community, and can contribute to and enjoy being part of this historical era of biological discovery. In this essay, I further elaborate by listing my top ten reasons why an academic job is a desirable career for young people who are interested in the life sciences.Students are attracted to careers in academic science because of their interest in the subject rather than for financial reward. But then they hear messages that make them think twice about this career choice. It is difficult to find a job: “Hear about Joe? Three publications as a postdoc and still no job offers.” The NIH pay line is low: “Poor Patricia, she is now on her third submission of her first NIH grant.” Publishing is painful: “Felix''s grad school thesis work has been rejected by three journals!” Academic jobs are demanding: “Cathy has spent her last three weekends writing grants rather than being with her family.”Such scenarios do take place, but if you think that this is what a career in academic science is about, then you need to hear the other side of the story. And this is the purpose of this article—a chance to reflect on the many good things about the academic profession. In the classic movie It''s a Wonderful Life, George Bailey is at the point of despair but regains his confidence through the wisdom and perspective of a guardian angel, Clarence. Doubt and setbacks also are bound to happen in science (as is true of other careers), but pessimism should not rule the day. It is a great profession and there are many happy endings. I would like to share my top ten reasons of why being an academic professor is a “wonderful life,” one that bright and motivated young people should continue to aspire to pursue.     

Academic motherhood – what happens when you can't make it happen?

We need more openness about age‐related infertility as it is a particular risk for many female scientists in academia who feel that they have to delay having children. Subject Categories: S&S: Careers & Training, Genetics, Gene Therapy & Genetic Disease

Balancing motherhood and a career in academic research is a formidable challenge, and there is substantial literature available on the many difficulties that scientists and mothers face (Kamerlin, 2016). Unsurprisingly, these challenges are very off‐putting for many female scientists, causing us to keep delaying motherhood while pursuing our hypercompetitive academic careers with arguments “I’ll wait until I have a faculty position”, “I’ll wait until I have tenure”, and “I’ll wait until I’m a full professor”. The problem is that we frequently end up postponing getting children based on this logic until the choice is no longer ours: Fertility unfortunately does decline rapidly over the age of 35, notwithstanding other potential causes of infertility.This column is therefore not about the challenges of motherhood itself, but rather another situation frequently faced by women in academia, and one that is still not discussed openly: What if you want to have children and cannot, either because biology is not on your side, or because you waited too long, or both? My inspiration for writing this article is a combination of my own experiences battling infertility in my path to motherhood, and an excellent piece by Dr. Arghavan Salles for Time Magazine, outlining the difficulties she faced having spent her most fertile years training to be a surgeon, just to find out that it might be too late for motherhood when she came out the other side of her training (Salles, 2019). Unfortunately, as academic work models remain unsupportive of parenthood, despite significant improvements, this is not a problem faced only by physicians, but also one faced by both myself and many other women I have spoken to.I want to start by sharing my own story, because it is a bit more unusual. I have a very rare (~ 1 in 125,000 in women (Laitinen et al, 2011)) congenital endocrine disorder, Kallmann syndrome (KS) (Boehm et al, 2015); as a result, my body is unable to produce its own sex hormones and I don’t have a natural cycle. It doesn’t take much background in science to realize that this has a major negative impact on my fertility—individuals with KS can typically only conceive with the help of fertility treatment. It took me a long time to get a correct diagnosis, but even before that, in my twenties, I was being told that it is extremely unlikely I will ever have biological children. I didn’t realize back then that KS in women is a very treatable form of infertility, and that fertility treatments are progressing forward in leaps and bounds. As I was also adamant that I didn’t even want to be a mother but rather focus on my career, this was not something that caused me too much consternation at the time.In parallel, like Dr. Salles, I spent my most fertile years chasing the academic career path and kept finding—in my mind—good reasons to postpone even trying for a child. There is really never a good time to have a baby in academia (I tell any of my junior colleagues who ask to not plan their families around “if only X…” because there will always be a new X). Like many, I naïvely believed that in vitro fertilization (IVF) would be the magic bullet that can solve all my fertility problems. I accordingly thought it safe to pursue first a faculty position, then tenure, then a full professorship, as I will have to have fertility treatment anyhow. In my late twenties, my doctors suggested that I consider fertility preservation, for example, through egg freezing. At the time, however, the technology was both extravagantly expensive and unreliable and I brushed it off as unnecessary: when the time comes, I would just do IVF. In reality, the IVF success rates for women in their mid‐to‐late 30s are typically only ~ 40% per egg retrieval, and this only gets worse with age, something many women are not aware of when planning parenthood and careers. It is also an extremely strenuous process both physically and emotionally, as one is exposed to massive doses of hormones, multiple daily injections, tremendous financial cost, and general worries about whether it will work or not.Then reality hit. What I believed would be an easy journey turned out to be extremely challenging, and took almost three years, seven rounds of treatment, and two late pregnancy losses. While the driving factor for my infertility remained my endocrine disorder, my age played an increasing role in problems responding to treatment, and it was very nearly too late for me, despite being younger than 40. Despite these challenges, we are among the lucky ones and there are many others who are not.I am generally a very open person, and as I started the IVF process, I talked freely about this with female colleagues. Because I was open about my own predicament, colleagues from across the world, who had never mentioned it to me before, opened up and told me their own children were conceived through IVF. However, many colleagues also shared stories of trying, and how they are for various—not infrequently age‐related—reasons unable to have children, even after fertility treatment. These experiences are so common in academia, much more than you could ever imagine, but because of the societal taboos that still surround infertility and pregnancy and infant loss, they are not discussed openly. This means that many academic women are unprepared for the challenges surrounding infertility, particularly with advanced age. In addition, the silence surrounding this issue means that women lose out on what would have otherwise been a natural support network when facing a challenging situation, which can make you feel tremendously alone.There is no right or wrong in family planning decisions, and having children young, delaying having children or deciding to not have children at all are all equally valid choices. However, we do need more openness about the challenges of infertility, and we need to bring this discussion out of the shadows. My goal with this essay is to contribute to breaking the silence, so that academics of both genders can make informed choices, whether about the timing of when to build a family or about exploring fertility preservation—which in itself is not a guaranteed insurance policy—as relevant to their personal choices. Ultimately, we need an academic system that is supportive of all forms of family choices, and one that creates an environment compatible with parenthood so that so many academics do not feel pressured to delay parenthood until it might be too late.     

Bayer revisited

Bayer accuses me of wrongly claiming that he holds a negative thesis about the role that the liberal emphasis on privacy rights has had on AIDS public health policy. In his reply to my review essay, he denies holding such a thesis and, moreover, makes the stronger claim that his position is sympathetic to liberalism, or at least to some versions of it. Although I appreciate Bayer's efforts to clarify his views about liberalism and a "culture of restraint and responsibility", it is clear to me that our differences are related not to a misunderstanding on my part, but to a fundamental disagreement concerning what liberalism as a political philosophy is, and what public policy implications it entails in the case of AIDS....     

Reminiscences,collaborations and reflections

This is a personal account by a semi old-timer who completed his official term as a professor of plant biochemistry at Nagoya University in Japan in 1992. My university student life began soon after the World War II (1948). I shared the hardships of many in my age group, in that life was difficult during my college years. I was fortunate to have the opportunity of studying in the USA on a Fulbright scholarship first at Purdue University (1955–1956), and then at the University of California, Berkeley (1956–1957). My graduate study and postdoctoral training in the new world were vitally refreshing and stimulating, which gave me the impetus for becoming a natural scientist associated with academic institutions. Consciously and subconsciously I was impressed by the friendly and liberal atmosphere surrounding young students as well as senior scholars in the United States. But more importantly, I was inspired by the critical and competitive minds prevailing among these people.The appointment as a biochemist at the International Rice Research Institute (IRRI) in the Philippines (1962–1964) was the real start of my professional career. The work was continued upon my return to Nagoya to become a staff member of the Research Institute for Biochemical Regulation (1964–1992). Throughout the years, my major research interest has covered photosynthesis as a whole, involving photosynthetic CO₂-fixation (RuBisCO), carbohydrate metabolism, e.g. starch biosynthesis and breakdown (-amylase), and metabolic regulation, which are interrelated in the basic metabolism of plant cells.I shall briefly describe in this article highlights from my studies and discoveries made and I shall also discuss their possible significance in plant metabolism, with the hope that it does not contradict my sense of humility: They are (a) discovery of ADPG in plants and its role in starch biosynthesis; (b) structure-function relationship of RuBisCO proteins, in particular on heterologous recombination of their subunits of plant-type enzyme molecules derived from the prokaryotic photosynthetic bacteria; (c) molecular evolution of RuBisCO genes; (d) mode of actions (formation, intracellular transport and secretion) of rice seed -amylase and its structural characteristics (distinctive glycosylation), and (e) DNA methylation and regulatory mechanism of photosynthesis gene expression in plastids (amyloplasts). In each step of my research, I shared joy, excitement, disappointment, and agony with my colleagues, an experience that may be common to all researchers. Although it is now becoming well recognized among the scientific community in Japan, I want to point out that interaction of multinational scientific minds in the laboratory produces a vital and creative atmosphere for performance of successful research. I experienced and realized this important fact in my earlier days in the USA and the Philippines. Inasmuch as I believe that this is the most crucial element for any research laboratory to possess, I fondly remember the friendships gained with numerous overseas visitors and collaborators who have contributed immensely to our work.Written at the invitation of Govindjee.     

The politics of marginalization: The appropriation of AIDS prevention messages among injection drug users

This essay addresses the space between a cultural critique and a class analysis of HIV transmission. It explores how injection drug users, as a disempowered group, resist hegemony through dissent. Distrust of the medical establishment and severe social and legal constraints force injection drug users to reconstruct the AIDS message. Economic and political survival inflates the need for trust and reciprocity within their social network. This makes the meaning of AIDS a continually ambiguous one for drug users. The ways in which dissent to domination is enacted and the effect this has on HIV prevention is explored.IfI'm that fucked up where I'll put a life-threatening drug into myself knowing it's dangerous, I really can't deal with a society that's telling me I deserve it. It takes all my strenght. The moral majority says it's God's way of taking care of these things. I hear too much of that. Drug addicts don't even want to talk about it [AIDS] because of the fear. I talk to people about it and they tune out. I can see their eyes glazing over.-A recovering addict     

An African theory of bioethics: reply to MacPherson and Macklin

In a prior issue of Developing World Bioethics, Cheryl Macpherson and Ruth Macklin critically engaged with an article of mine, where I articulated a moral theory grounded on indigenous values salient in the sub-Saharan region, and then applied it to four major issues in bioethics, comparing and contrasting its implications with those of the dominant Western moral theories, utilitarianism and Kantianism. In response to my essay, Macpherson and Macklin have posed questions about: whether philosophical justifications are something with which bioethicists ought to be concerned; why something counts as 'African'; how medicine is a moral enterprise; whether an individual right to informed consent is consistent with sub-Saharan values; and when thought experiments help to establish firm conclusions about moral status. These are important issues for the field, and I use this reply to take discussion of them a step or two farther, defending my initial article from Macpherson's and Macklin's critical questions and objections.     

Radicals in Berkeley?

In a previous autobiographical sketch for DNA Repair (Linn, S. (2012) Life in the serendipitous lane: excitement and gratification in studying DNA repair. DNA Repair 11, 595–605), I wrote about my involvement in research on mechanisms of DNA repair. In this Reflections, I look back at how I became interested in free radical chemistry and biology and outline some of our bizarre (at the time) observations. Of course, these studies could never have succeeded without the exceptional aid of my mentors: my teachers; the undergraduate and graduate students, postdoctoral fellows, and senior lab visitors in my laboratory; and my faculty and staff colleagues here at Berkeley. I am so indebted to each and every one of these individuals for their efforts to overcome my ignorance and set me on the straight and narrow path to success in research. I regret that I cannot mention and thank each of these mentors individually.     

A Tale of Mother and Daughter

Loving science and nature and being a scientist can be very different, yet the two are so intertwined in a scientist''s life that you will certainly experience both aspects. This essay presents my perspective on how, as one who loves science and nature, I came to fall in love with centrosome behavior in stem cells and how I came to run a lab as a scientist. When I started, there was a big gap between my love for science and my experience as a scientist. I filled this gap by learning a “laid-back confidence.”Before the beauty of cell biology (or whatever you love), who you are (i.e., your age, gender, or race) is immaterial. Yet history shows that the ease with which you can pursue science is influenced by who you are. This has certainly been my experience. The key is to find a way to fill in the gap between who you are and what you are (i.e., a scientist), a goal in which we must all support each other. It is my hope that this essay will convey something helpful to those who are at early stages of their career and might be encountering obstacles because of who they are.     

``Terror's Talk: Fieldwork and War'

My purpose in this essay is to raise some questions about what isinvolved in research on political violence. Since 1995 I haveconducted ethnographic research in rural villages throughoutAyacucho, the region of Peru most heavily affected by the warbetween the guerrilla group Sendero Luminoso, the rondascampesinas (armed peasant patrols) and the Peruvian armed forces.A key factor motivating my research was a desire to write againstthe culture of violence arguments that were used to ``explain'the war. The concept of a ``culture of violence' or ``endemicviolence' has frequently been attributed to the Andean region,particularly to the rural peasants who inhabit the highlands.I wanted to understand how people make and unmake lethal violencein a particular social and historical context, and to explore thepositioning and responsibilities of an anthropologist who conductsresearch in the context of war.