This week: “Future Nobel prize winners in the second grade” – this week a report on the Naked Mole Rat…
And another one-off: More stories from the cell nucleus…
Here’s another text from a young scientist who is aiming to improve her writing. The intent of publishing it here is to show other students, teachers, and scientists the kind of work we do in communications courses. Most of the time we work individually, but here the author, Ekaterina Perets, has very generously allowed me to print the version of the text she wrote before we began working on it, alongside my comments and the final version. That text was recently published in the MDC newsletter Insights. You can see it here.
Ekaterina is a PhD student in Enno Klussmann’s lab at the MDC. As she began writing her doctoral thesis, she decided to produce a version of her abstract for non-specialists. It’s a useful exercise that challenges you to put your work into a broader perspective and look at it through other eyes.
Ekaterina wrote a solid first version of the text that we worked on for several days to produce the final draft that was published. Her goal was to tell her story clearly and accurately, in a way that would make sense to non-scientists and other researchers as well. I have painstakingly gone through the drafts again to elaborate on some of the issues that arose and her solutions. These are things that pop up all the time in my courses on science writing. They are usually more difficult to see – and solve – in your own writing, which is why Ekaterina’s willingness to share is so valuable.
Considered in isolation, most of the problems aren’t too significant. In combination, though, they make more work for a reader who is already challenged by all the new ideas. The changes build a story that is easier to read and presents information at a pace that can be digested by a careful reader.
Enno helped by providing comments along the way. A particular challenge in the text arose from the fact that the work hasn’t been published yet, so Ekaterina had to remove some passages from the first draft – she didn’t want to reveal anything that might interfere with getting her article into a good journal.
It’s always possible to do more with a text; there are still passages that could be fuller, simpler, and clearer. But that’s the way it always is. As Mark Twain said, “The time to begin writing an article is when you have finished it to your satisfaction.” Somewhere he also stated, I believe, something to the effect that publication is the only way to force a writer to stop editing his piece.
(Mark Twain also advised writers to “Substitute ‘damn’ every time you’re inclined to write ‘very’; your editor will delete it and the writing will be just as it should be,” but perhaps that doesn’t apply here.)
So thanks, Ekaterina and Enno!
I’ve used the following structure: first comes Ekaterina’s complete original text (except for the passages that were removed). As you’re reading the original, make a note of anything that you think might cause problems for her target audience.
After the full original text I go it paragraph by paragraph, identifying specific issues that came up and showing how Ekaterina addressed them in her next draft.
That new version is assembled at the end. If you’re still alive at that point, it’s interesting to read the two side-by-side.
FIRST VERSION
An A-kinase anchoring protein regulates metabolism and motility in cancer cells
The ability of cancer cells to detach themselves from the initial tumor site, migrate and invade adjacent tissues signifies the first step of usually fatal distant metastasis. In order to achieve this, a complex organization of multiple intracellular processes initiates. Collectively, this transition is termed EMT (Epithelial-Mesenchymal Transition) and the ultimate goal of modern cancer research is to gain further insight into EMT induction and regulation.
While breaking bonds between cancer cells and initial tumor predicts poor prognosis, many proteins inside the cell require physical attachment to other proteins in order to function. Also, certain proteins have different roles depending on their location inside the cell and the switch between these roles occurs when the protein attaches itself to one cellular structure or to another. These kinds of attachments are usually facilitated by scaffolding proteins.
One example of location-dependent protein is GSK3β. When GSK3β is in the cytoplasm of the cell or in the nucleus, it has a main role in transferring biochemical information important for cells’ development as well as EMT. This information circuit is called the Wnt signaling pathway and it has been reported to malfunction in various tumors. However, when GSK3β in located in the cellular structures called the mitochondria, it transmits information required for survival or death of abnormal cells.
In addition to being location-dependent, GSK3β activity depends on physical interaction with other proteins. Under normal conditions GSK3β remains active and can be inhibited by a phosphate molecule placed on it by one of the proteins called kinases. One example of such a kinase protein is Protein Kinase A (PKA). The scaffolding protein in charge of bringing GSK3β and PKA in close proximity to each other in order to insure the transfer of the phosphate molecule from PKA to GSK3β belongs to the A-kinase anchoring proteins (AKAPs) family. AKAPs have in common the ability to bind PKA and direct it to a particular location inside the cell. Since this AKAP is able to regulate GSK3β activity via PKA by direct binding of the two proteins, elucidating the AKAP’s exact function in tumorigenesis is compelling.
Interestingly enough, when we delete the AKAP gene in a model cell line, thereby preventing the formation of the AKAP protein, …
(Here a section has been removed)
Reprogramming of cellular metabolism is another hallmark of cancer. Back in 1929, Otto Warburg first noted that rapidly growing cancer cells rely on different energy production methods than healthy slow-growing cells. He stated that cancer cells produced most of their energy in a process called anaerobic glycolysis, in contrast to healthy cells which preferred the highly-efficient energy production via oxidative phosphorylation (OXPHOS) which takes place in the mitochondria. The advantage of glycolysis over OXPHOS is the high speed in which energy is produced. While Warburg thought that all cancer cells switch to high-rate glycolysis, recent studies have shown that this is not entirely true; only rapidly growing and dividing cancer cells use glycolysis, while non-dividing or metastasizing cancer cells, prefer OXPHOS.
(Section removed)
In summary, this research demonstrated that the AKAP is required for both migration and metabolic control of lung cancer cells. However, the direct target protein of the AKAP remains to be found. Therefore, future work will aim to answer the “chicken or the egg” question; who was affected first by the AKAP, the EMT or metabolism?
Prospectively, our approach contributes to elucidating mechanisms underlying EMT and metabolic reprograming regulation in tumorigenesis and proposes this AKAP as a potential therapeutic target.
COMMENTS
In this section I walk through the text and comment on each issue as it arises. In classroom teaching it’s better to cluster problems of the same type and cover several examples before moving on to each new issue. This helps a student decontextualizes a problem and recognize it in their own writing. Here, for the sake of simplicity, I’ll stick to the order of the text. I’ll break it into paragraphs to discuss the overall information structure and transitions, then work through the sentence level to cover issues there.
First paragraph:
The ability of cancer cells to detach themselves from the initial tumor site, migrate and invade adjacent tissues signifies the first step of usually fatal distant metastasis. In order to achieve this, a complex organization of multiple intracellular processes initiates. Collectively, this transition is termed EMT (Epithelial-Mesenchymal Transition) and the ultimate goal of modern cancer research is to gain further insight into EMT induction and regulation.
I found this beginning logical; it starts with a concept that most readers are probably familiar with (“metastasis”) and moves to something that is probably new (EMT) that is crucial to the paper. Some of the sentences are dense, partly because they use words that are familiar but rather uncommon. If you can replace such words with more common terms without losing the meaning, it requires less “processing” by the reader. In a single sentence this may not be too important, but using such words constantly in a text makes it “heavier” and a bit tougher going overall.
In my own writing, I aim to compose sentences that make a point as clearly as possible, that can be understood the first time they are read, and whose structure links to the sentences that precede and follow them.
The first sentence will probably be accessible to the target audience (students and others who have no specialist knowledge of the field). It isn’t the easiest type of sentence for readers to decode because the subject (a list) goes on for a line and a half before we get the verb. There are several ways to avoid this:
Metastasis, which is usually the fatal stage in cancer, begins when...
Cancer cells take the first step toward metastasis… when they…
The sentence also contains several words and constructions that have alternates in more typical daily language: “The ability of… detach themselves (free themselves, break away from)… initial tumor site (the tissue where a cancer originally appears)… signifies (is)…” I wasn’t too concerned about this, but the phrase “usually fatal distant metastasis” compresses several ideas into a compound that is looser and will surely be easier to cope with after Ekaterina changed it to:
The ability of cancer cells to detach themselves from an initial tumor site, migrate and invade other tissues signifies the first step of metastasis, which is often the fatal step in cancer progression.
It’s always good to take out extra information if it doesn’t really contribute to the point at hand; here she has removed “adjacent” and “distant” and loosened the dense compound at the end of the first sentence by starting with a single, familiar word (metastasis) and adds a clause to provide the clarification or definition.
The second sentence begins with, “in order to achieve this,” which has unnecessary words (“To achieve this” would mean the same thing). “This” is vague because it refers to a complex process with many parts. “A complex organization of multiple intracellular processes” will be abstract to most readers, and it is dense because it compresses a sentence into a noun phrase. An alternative would be something like, “A number of complex processes within cells must be reorganized…” In the original version, again we have to wait quite a while for the verb (“initiates”), and most readers will find the sentence easier to scan with a shorter subject placed closer to its verb.
Here’s her solution:
Cells must reorganize a number of internal processes to initiate metastasis.
The next sentence starts with “collectively,” a word that’s common in scientific texts and a little more unusual in other styles. Its meaning should be clear, so we’ll leave it. But the reader must completely understand “what is being collected,” and there are ways to make this easier to scan.
I was worried that “the ultimate goal of modern cancer research” might be overstating her case: cancer is a vast field, whose ultimate goal is probably to cure the disease. EMT is surely a crucial step along the way, but other labs working on other aspects of cancer might have other “ultimate goals” and disagree. In her final version, she has toned this down.
“Initiate” and “regulate” are less-familiar than more common words such as “start” and “is controlled”, but it’s important to note that “regulation” has a particular scientific meaning. This is similar enough to the way most people understand the word that she might not necessarily want to change it. Here is her final version:
The ability of cancer cells to detach themselves from an initial tumor site, migrate and invade other tissues signifies the first stage of metastasis, which is often the fatal step in cancer progression. Cells must reorganize a number of internal processes to initiate metastasis. Collectively, the steps in this process are called the Epithelial-Mesenchymal Transition (EMT). An important goal of modern cancer research is to learn more about the molecules and processes that initiate EMT and influence the way it develops in a tissue.
Second paragraph:
While breaking bonds between cancer cells and initial tumor predicts poor prognosis, many proteins inside the cell require physical attachment to other proteins in order to function. Also, certain proteins have different roles depending on their location inside the cell and the switch between these roles occurs when the protein attaches itself to one cellular structure or to another. These kinds of attachments are usually facilitated by scaffolding proteins.
The connection between the introductory paragraph and this one is a crucial step along the way to Ekaterina’s complete, logical story. Her strategy raises an issue that often appears in writing about biomedical themes. When the experiments are finished and the results interpreted, it’s often possible to link something you have learned to cancer or another disease. That may have been the original intent of a project, or the connection may turn up while you’re pursuing some other question.
Either way, the claim will only be taken seriously if specific types of evidence are provided. In the type of work carried out at the MDC, this usually starts at a very basic level of a biological system, identifying a molecule, studying its activity in healthy cells, demonstrating what happens if it is missing or unable to perform its functions, and showing that the same type of disruption occurs in a disease.
This provides a logical framework to explain what you did – providing you approach things from the bottom up, from the lowest level of structure in an organism to one of the highest levels (health). But if your text starts with a disease, your entry point is high, and it’s harder to build the logic this way.
There are reasons to do so anyway: In popular science writing, diseases presumably attract readers out of a sort of diffuse self-interest: people are afraid of diseases and interested in progress toward cures. In scientific texts, diseases are often hung over a project like a big banner, perhaps to attract the attention of a wide community of cancer researchers, or to open the coffers of agencies that prefer to fund projects that will lead to real medical applications.
Whatever your reason, starting with the disease can introduce a structural problem in a story that is more logical when told the other way around. Ekaterina needs to jump from tumors and metastases to a scale that is millions of trillions of times smaller: interactions between proteins in cells. She wants to do that in the fewest steps possible so that she can start talking about her work. Her original draft uses a sort of logical slight-of-hand: she has introduced metastases and the notion that cancer cells have to detach themselves from their neighbors, and jumps to the idea that proteins have to attach themselves to structures inside cells. It’s awkward because she’s talking about things at vastly different scales, in different locations, and hasn’t provided any other logical connection between these events.
Ekaterina found a great solution to the problem by linking the two themes at a more profound level: cellular attachments and detachments depend on interactions between proteins – whether they bind to each other or not. Adding that connection makes the transition to the molecular scale much more logical:
Before a cancer cell can migrate away from its tumor, it has to detach itself by breaking its bonds to other cells, and this is generally a sign that the patient’s prognosis will be poor. The cell is usually tied to its neighbors and material in the space between them by proteins that are bound to each other; now these connections must be broken. The binding and unlinking of proteins, inside the cell as well as outside, is a general phenomenon that is crucial to every aspect of cellular life and has to be carefully controlled. Whether a protein binds to the right partner, and when and where it does so, can make the difference between life and death for a single cell or an entire organism.
A molecule’s location influences its ability to carry out its tasks, and its location is determined by interactions with other proteins that help attach it to a cellular structure or compartment. This often requires the participation of a “scaffolding” molecule which can bind to both the protein and the target membrane or structure it should be attached to; the scaffold provides a way of bringing them together.
Third paragraph:
One example of a location-dependent protein is GSK3β. When GSK3β is in the cytoplasm of the cell or in the nucleus, it has a main role in transferring biochemical information important for cells’ development as well as EMT. This information circuit is called the Wnt signaling pathway and it has been reported to malfunction in various tumors. However, when GSK3β in located in the cellular structures called the mitochondria, it transmits information required for survival or death of abnormal cells.
Here Ekaterina uses the concept of localization as a bridge between paragraphs; she just mentioned it, so readers should be able to follow her logic. Here I was concerned about the number of ideas that might be new which she introduced, and whether she had connected them to each other in the clearest possible way. Sometimes the simplest things make a text challenging to readers unfamiliar with basic concepts: What do they imagine when they read “transferring biochemical information,” and will they instantly relate it to the “information circuit” in the next sentence? The author can help by making connections excruciatingly explicit; readers who can’t follow your logic will have to invent one on their own, and rather than invest the effort, they may give up.
There are countless ways to build connectivity and make transitions. A lot of them don’t need to be as explicit when writing for scientists from your field. They are already familiar with concepts such as protein-protein binding and the logic that connects this theme to events at the scale of cells, including metastases.
Even in this type of communication, however, the writer has to be intensely aware of the logic that connects ideas to each other and the larger story; at that point you can make an intelligent decision about each transition. Is a connection really implicit, from the text? Would there be anything wrong with making it explicit? When giving someone directions to a party, it’s usually better to give too many directions than too few – within limits. If everyone you’re inviting lives in town and is familiar with the same landmarks nearby, you won’t need to start with a map of contintental Europe. In the same way, a scientist doesn’t need to be told that your body is made of cells.
As always, the amount of information and logic you choose to present should be guided by a realistic guess about the knowledge of your intended audience. Ekaterina added more linkage and rearranged some of the points within sentences to produce this version:
One example of a protein whose activity depends on its location is a molecule called GSK3β, which has been found to malfunction in various tumors. When GSK3β is in the cytoplasm or the nucleus, its main role is to transmit information needed during cells’ development and for the regulation of EMT. In these two locations, the main function of GSK3β is mainly to send signals along a molecular “information circuit” called the Wnt signaling pathway. But GSK3β can also be found within other cellular structures called mitochondria. There it transmits information along a different route, with different effects: the signal helps determine whether abnormal cells survive or die. Both locations and signals play a role in whether cancer cells grow, survive, and metastasize. They may only be able to do so by interrupting the signals that GSK3β normally transmits to other proteins. Therefore, ensuring that GSK3β is in the proper location and functions correctly is probably crucial in cancer prevention and treatment.
Fourth paragraph:
In addition to being location-dependent, GSK3β activity depends on physical interaction with other proteins. Under normal conditions GSK3β remains active and can be inhibited by a phosphate molecule placed on it by one of the proteins called kinases. One example of such a kinase protein is Protein Kinase A (PKA). The scaffolding protein in charge of bringing GSK3β and PKA in close proximity to each other in order to insure the transfer of the phosphate molecule from PKA to GSK3β is a member of the family of A-kinase anchoring proteins (AKAPs).
Here there are clear links to the previous paragraph (GSK3β and localization) and Ekaterina connects this to a topic introduced earlier: protein-protein binding. But within the paragraph, it’s not always immediately clear how each new idea arises from the previous one – at least until you have read the whole sentence. The first sentence, for example, ends with protein interactions, a theme also taken up in the next sentence – but only after the introduction of a new idea (phosphorylation), and the link between the two ideas comes at the end. The reader has to wait for the author to close the gap. The alternative is simply to change the order of information within sentences to get a better flow.
English permits great flexibility in the arrangement of phrases within sentences. Word order can be used to establish (or at least support) the logical flow and to transmit other kinds of meaning. Each sentence is like a story that begins somewhere and takes us somwhere else, and the next sentence can start right at that point and move on.
That is much more difficult in a language like German, where sentence structure is much more rigid: putting almost anything before a subject requires an inversion that pushes the main verb all the way to the end – so you often have to process entire sentences to grasp their connections. German readers are used to this and may, fundamentally, be better at it.
Ekaterina’s native language is not German, but she has used this type of sentence structure. To represent the problem symbolically, an arrangement of ideas is probably easiest to follow if it looks something like this:
A – B; B – C; C – D… etc.
If a sentence contains three pieces of information as Ekaterina’s does, this may be harder. But the arrangement in the first two sentences look more like this:
A – B – C. D – B – A
(A = localization. B = activity. C = protein interactions. D = phosphorylation. B = activity. A = interactions)
Rearranging this to create a more linear storytelling structure would change this:
In addition to being location-dependent, GSK3β activity depends on physical interaction with other proteins. Under normal conditions GSK3β remains active and can be inhibited by a phosphate molecule placed on it by one of the proteins called kinases.
….to something like this:
GSK3β’s activity depends on both its cellular location and its direct physical interactions with other proteins. By binding to a protein called a kinase, for example, it acquires a chemical tag called a phosphate group. This has an important fact: it inactivates GSK3β and switches off signals when a message has been received.
It’s not easy to carry this approach through to the end of the paragraph, because most of the sentences convey more than two ideas. That means shuffling and combining them in other ways. And a linear structure isn’t always appropriate: it’s good when describing a sequence of events, or when “zooming in” from a general idea to a specific one. Sentences that introduce lists, however, would be structured differently.
Suppose Ekaterina had introduced the topic this way: “In different cellular locations, GSK3β interacts with different sets of proteins and has different functions.” If examples follow, the clearest structure would be to construct the information the same way: “In the cell nucleus, GSK3β binds to specific proteins as a way of transmitting signals… In the cytoplasm it functions the same way. But when it is located in structures called mitochondria, …”
Ekaterina’s found a different solution that has the same effect: within sentences, the order of ideas reflects the logic that connects them:
GSK3β’s location and activity are the result of interactions with other proteins. When GSK3β binds to a molecule called Protein Kinase A (PKA), for example, PKA transfers a chemical tag called a phosphate group to it, which switches off the signaling activity of GSK3β. The tag can only be transferred if the two molecules are brought into direct contact, a process that is arranged by scaffolding proteins such as members of the family of A-kinase anchoring proteins (AKAPs).
This brings Ekaterina directly to the heart of her project. At this point the reader has been introduced to all the main players in the story, and now she is going to guide us to the specific question she is asking and the way she chose to pursue it.
Fifth paragraph:
AKAPs have in common the ability to bind PKA and direct it to a particular location inside the cell. Since this particular AKAP is able to regulate GSK3β activity via PKA by direct binding of the two proteins, elucidating the AKAP’s exact function in tumorigenesis is compelling.
Here there is another dense cluster in the first sentence: “A-kinase anchoring protein (AKAP) family,” which she will loosen in the final draft. In the second, “have in common the ability to” is awkward (and grammatically suspect because a phrase is interposed between the verb and its object).
The third sentence is interesting for another reason. It seems to fit the principles we have covered – it begins with points that have already been introduced and then builds a link to the overarching topic: the development of tumors and metastases. This raises a different issue related to information density. “Since the AKAP is able to regulate GSK3β activity via PKA by direct binding of the two proteins” combines several pieces of information that the reader has learned moments ago. That integration is important, but readers will only understand it if they have digested what they’ve learned. It’s a bit like introducing someone to three new words in a foreign language and a new grammar rule, and then immediately presenting him with a sentence that combines them all. He may understand it, but you shouldn’t expect him to.
Here’s how Ekaterina loosened it up:
AKAPs share a common feature: the ability to bind PKA and transport it to a particular location inside the cell. This means that the AKAP not only interacts with both GSK3β and PKA – it also directs them to specific locations in the cell. That’s interesting because PKA also has many roles in the development of tumors.
In the new draft she decided to expand on this by reminding readers of a point she had raised earlier:
Now three molecules are bound together: the AKAP, PKA and GSK3β. This puts PKA close enough to transfer a phosphate group onto GSK3β and block its activity. Since both of these molecules have been implicated in the development of tumors, it makes sense to wonder whether the AKAP, the protein that brings them together, might also have a role in the disease. If so, we would probably expect to find a disruption of the normal activity of the AKAP, but its functions in healthy cells have been unclear.
Sixth paragraph
At this point Ekaterina has introduced the main question of her research, which is something like this: “Are the cancerous effects of GSK3β sometimes related to the fact that it is in the wrong place and/or its ability to interact with important partners such as PKA? And if so, could defects in the AKAP be responsible?”
Her thesis project required breaking this question down into smaller parts, designing experiments to address each part, and then assembling the results into a satisfactory answer. In the sixth paragraph she introduces part of the experimental strategy:
Interestingly enough, when we delete the AKAP gene in a model cell line, thereby preventing the formation of the AKAP protein, …
She hasn’t explicitly explained the rationale for this experiment – which any scientist will understand, but what about non-specialists? There’s an easy way to make sure they get the point:
A common method to discover the function of a molecule is to remove it from cells where it is normally found and observe what happens to them. We did this with the AKAP by deleting its gene in a line of cells that we use as a model in the lab, which left the cells incapable of producing the AKAP protein. We discovered that its removal affects a number of processes that are specifically involved in metastasis and other aspects of the development of tumors.
Next Ekaterina confronts a technical problem: She can’t describe some of her experiments or present the results until they have been published in a scientific journal. Giving away too many details, even in the MDC newsletter, would be grounds for the rejection of her paper by a journal – which typically refuses to publish work that has already appeared.
Her solution is to address the reader directly and frankly, explaining why she doesn’t go deeper into the project:
For the details you’ll have to wait for the paper. For now we can say that the silencing of the AKAP affects the behavior of other proteins that play crucial roles in signaling, EMT, and also cell metabolism, the process by which cells produce the energy they need. Cancer cells have different energy needs than healthy cells, and the reprogramming of cellular metabolism is another hallmark of cancer.
Metabolism is another theme she wants to introduce because it has an important role in her thesis, and she finds a great way to do so using history:
Back in 1929, Otto Warburg first noted that rapidly growing cancer cells rely on different energy production methods than healthy slow-growing cells. He stated that cancer cells produced most of their energy in a process called anaerobic glycolysis, in contrast to healthy cells which preferred the highly-efficient energy production via oxidative phosphorylation (OXPHOS) which takes place in the mitochondria. The advantage of glycolysis over OXPHOS is the high speed in which energy is produced. While Warburg thought that all cancer cells switch to high-rate glycolysis, recent studies have shown that this is not entirely true; only rapidly growing and dividing cancer cells use glycolysis, while non-dividing or metastasizing cancer cells, prefer OXPHOS.
This is a good storytelling because it gives readers a character to latch onto. By placing her project in a historical context, she is also saying more, by implication: her work addresses an issue so fundamental in cancer research that it has occupied scientists for nearly a century.
All along the way Ekaterina confronts important decisions about the amount of information a reader really needs to get the gist of her work. Here she decides to introduce two types of metabolism that she names without going into much detail; it’s enough to contrast them based on the sites in cells where they occur and a parameter that is related to cancer (speed). I recommended sharpening the contrast by expanding on the idea in this sentence:
The advantage of glycolysis over OXPHOS is the high rate at which energy is produced.
Here’s what she came up with:
This link was discovered back in 1929, when the German scientist Otto Warburg became the first to note that rapidly growing cancer cells rely on methods of energy production that are different than those used by healthy, slow-growing cells. He stated that cancer cells produced most of their energy in a process called anaerobic glycolysis. Healthy cells, on the other hand, favored a type of energy production based on a process called oxidative phosphorylation (OXPHOS), which takes place in the mitochondria. The difference has to do with speed and efficiency: glycolysis produces energy at a very high rate, while OXPHOS is geared toward efficiency, and is more sustainable over the long term. While Warburg thought that all cancer cells switch to high-rate glycolysis, recent studies have shown that this is not entirely true; only rapidly growing and dividing cancer cells use glycolysis. Non-dividing or metastasizing cancer cells prefer OXPHOS. When you read the paper you’ll see how we demonstrated the AKAP’s effects on metabolism and how we interpret them in terms of the dysregulation of metabolism and EMT.
(Section removed)
The reader has to guess how this might relate to her project, but some clues are available: OXPHOS takes place in the mitochondria, which is one of the sites where GSK3β is found… Hmm…
Now all that’s left is to sum up. The conclusion is crucial because it gives the author a chance to put everything back together, to show how she has answered the scientific question posed at the beginning, and to frame the story she wants the reader to remember it. Here’s what she wrote for the first draft:
In summary, this research demonstrated that the AKAP is required for both migration and metabolic control of cancer cells. However, the direct target protein of the AKAP remains to be found. Therefore, future work will aim to answer the “chicken or the egg” question; who was affected first by the AKAP, EMT or metabolism?
Prospectively, our approach contributes to elucidating mechanisms underlying EMT and metabolic reprograming regulation in tumorigenesis and proposes the AKAP as a potential therapeutic target.
The main changes she ends up making have to do with phrasing, word order, and making sure her logic (which would be clear to any scientist) will also make sense to readers less familiar with buzzwords like “elucidating mechanisms” and “potential therapeutic target.” She gets rid of clusters like “contributes to elucidating mechanisms underlying EMT and metabolic reprogramming regulation in tumorigenesis.” By now most of those terms will have confronted the reader, but the conclusion is the last place you want the text to get dense.
A lot of questions remain: other proteins directly affected by the AKAP have yet to be found. The project raises a “chicken-or-egg” question, in which EMT is the chicken and metabolism the egg: which process does the AKAP influence first? Our approach should contribute to understanding the mechanisms that produce some of the changes in these processes that are observed as tumors arise from healthy tissue and then become metastatic. And it hints that the AKAP might make a therapeutic target. This would be useful because AKAPs have features that might permit fine-tuning their effects with drugs. By doing so, it might be possible to alter the behavior of GSK3β in one location, where its activities contribute to disease, without affecting its healthy functions.
Below I provide the final version. As Ekaterina lives with this text, she’ll find that she could come back time and time again and improve it with editing. It’s a writer’s curse – to recognize weaknesses in old texts that have been published and you can no longer change. The important thing is what you learn when you mak the effort.
FINAL VERSION
Can a small A-kinase anchoring protein play a big role in cancer? A report from the lab bench
The ability of cancer cells to detach themselves from an initial tumor site, migrate and invade other tissues signifies the first stage of metastasis, which is often the fatal step in cancer progression. Cells must reorganize a number of internal processes to initiate metastasis. Collectively, the steps in this process are called the Epithelial-Mesenchymal Transition (EMT). An important goal of modern cancer research is to learn more about the molecules and processes that initiate EMT and influence the way it develops in a tissue.
Before a cancer cell can migrate away from its tumor, it has to detach itself by breaking its bonds to other cells, and this is generally a sign that the patient’s prognosis will be poor. The cell is usually tied to its neighbors and material in the space between them by proteins that are bound to each other; now these connections must be broken. The binding and unlinking of proteins, inside the cell as well as outside, is a general phenomenon that is crucial to every aspect of cellular life and has to be carefully controlled. Whether a protein binds to the right partner, and when and where it does so, can make the difference between life and death for a single cell or an entire organism.
A molecule’s location influences its ability to carry out its tasks, and its location is determined by interactions with other proteins that help attach it to a cellular structure or compartment. This often requires the participation of a “scaffolding” molecule which can bind to both the protein and the target membrane or structure it should be attached to; the scaffold provides a way of bringing them together.
One example of a protein whose activity depends on its location is a molecule called GSK3β, which has been found to malfunction in various tumors. When GSK3β is in the cytoplasm or the nucleus, its main role is to transmit information needed during cells’ development and for the regulation of EMT. In these two locations, the main function of GSK3β is mainly to send signals along a molecular “information circuit” called the Wnt signaling pathway. But GSK3β can also be found within other cellular structures called mitochondria. There it transmits information along a different route, with different effects: the signal helps determine whether abnormal cells survive or die. Both locations and signals play a role in whether cancer cells grow, survive, and metastasize. They may only be able to do so by interrupting the signals that GSK3β normally transmits to other proteins. Therefore, ensuring that GSK3β is in the proper location and functions correctly is probably crucial in cancer prevention and treatment.
GSK3β’s location and activity are the result of interactions with other proteins. When GSK3β binds to a molecule called Protein Kinase A (PKA), for example, PKA transfers a chemical tag called a phosphate group to it, which switches off the signaling activity of GSK3β. The tag can only be transferred if the two molecules are brought into direct contact, a process that is arranged by scaffolding proteins such as the members of the family of A-kinase anchoring proteins (AKAPs).
AKAPs share a common feature: the ability to bind PKA and transport it to a particular location inside the cell. This means that the AKAP not only interacts with both GSK3β and PKA – it also directs them to specific locations. That’s interesting because PKA also has many roles in the development of tumors.
Now three molecules are bound together: the AKAP, PKA and GSK3β. This puts PKA close enough to transfer a phosphate group onto GSK3β and block its activity. Since both of these molecules have been implicated in the development of tumors, it makes sense to wonder whether AKAP, the protein that brings them together, might also have a role in the disease. If so, we would probably expect to find a disruption of the normal activity of the AKAP, but its functions in healthy cells have been unclear.
A common method to discover the function of a molecule is to remove it from cells where it is normally found and observe what happens to them. We did this with the AKAP by deleting its gene in a line of cells that we use as a model in the lab, which left the cells incapable of producing the AKAP protein. We discovered that its removal affects a number of processes that are specifically involved in metastasis and other aspects of the development of tumors.
For the details you’ll have to wait for the paper. For now we can say that the silencing of the AKAP affects the behavior of other proteins that play crucial roles in signaling, EMT, and also cell metabolism, the process by which cells produce the energy they need. Cancer cells have different energy needs than healthy cells, and the reprogramming of cellular metabolism is another hallmark of cancer.
This link was discovered back in 1929, when the German scientist Otto Warburg became the first to note that rapidly growing cancer cells rely on methods of energy production that are different than those used by healthy, slow-growing cells. He stated that cancer cells produced most of their energy in a process called anaerobic glycolysis. Healthy cells, on the other hand, favored a type of energy production based on a process called oxidative phosphorylation (OXPHOS), which takes place in the mitochondria. The difference has to do with speed and efficiency: glycolysis produces energy at a very high rate, while OXPHOS is geared toward efficiency, and is more sustainable over the long term. While Warburg thought that all cancer cells switch to high-rate glycolysis, recent studies have shown that this is not entirely true; only rapidly growing and dividing cancer cells use glycolysis. Non-dividing or metastasizing cancer cells prefer OXPHOS. When you read the paper you’ll see how we demonstrated the AKAP’s effects on metabolism and how we interpret them in terms of the dysregulation of metabolism and EMT.
A lot of questions remain: other proteins directly affected by the AKAP have yet to be found. The project raises a “chicken-or-egg” question, in which EMT is the chicken and metabolism the egg: which process does the AKAP influence first? Our approach should contribute to understanding the mechanisms that produce some of the changes in these processes that are observed as tumors arise from healthy tissue and then become metastatic. And it hints that the AKAP might make a therapeutic target. This would be useful because AKAPs have features that might permit fine-tuning their effects with drugs. By doing so, it might be possible to alter the behavior of GSK3β in one location, where its activities contribute to disease, without affecting its healthy functions.
How to organize a spontaneous scientific conference, in 27 easy steps
It was a sunny morning in mid-May, the S-Bahn wasn’t on strike, the air was thick with the scent of lilacs and millions of allergens and the songs of birds who hadn’t yet figured out how to find partners on-line. A perfect day for a barbecue or, as things turned out, a fire alarm. At around 11 am the doors of House 31.1 opened, ejecting about 400 scientists. In the spirit of quantitative biology, I’d like to provide a more precise number, but they didn’t hold still long enough to be counted. (I can tell you, however, that p = 0.0011.) Their behavior might have reminded you of the efflux of molecules from a ruptured, apoptotic cell. Or perhaps not.
Without any facts, it was difficult to formulate a hypothesis that could explain a sudden, mass exodus of biologists. Had everyone simply decided to go to lunch at precisely the same moment? That seemed highly unlikely, statistically speaking, but in a stochastic universe that’s 13.798 billion years old, it’s bound to happen once or twice. Or were we witnessing the effects of some as-yet unknown biological mechanism, one that stimulated spontaneous migratory behavior in scientists?
I saw Walter Birchmeier standing on the lawn – was Wnt signaling involved? It’s always a good candidate when you have a migratory phenotype. Wnt helps regulate the motility of cancer cells; if you augmented its activity a trillion-fold, would it have the same effect on cancer scientists? But why did it affect only House 31.1? Was some sort of parasitic microRNA on the loose? Was there any connection to the microbiome of the belly button? Or chickens?
If I were a scientist, I could have grabbed some piece of equipment from the lab – maybe a liquid chromatography mass spectrometer, or a magic-angle NMR machine, and headed out to look for the mechanism. But the only high-throughput technology in my office is the coffee machine. So I’d have to rely on more primitive methods of scientific discovery, like asking somebody what was going on.
I saw Undine Hill standing by the blue bear; that morning on the bus she’d told me she’d spent the whole night preparing for her PhD committee meeting. “How did it go?” I said.
“Everything was going okay,” she said. “Until the fire alarm.”
That’s serendipity in science for you: often the best way to get an answer is to ask the wrong question. The signal that had sent everybody outside was a fire alarm. This didn’t necessarily exclude Wnt, but it certainly shifted the research focus. Further investigation yielded the locus of the problem: a defective microwave oven on the fifth floor. “It wasn’t my fault,” said Luiza Bengtsson.
By now people were drifting over from other buildings to join in the festivities, like immune cells attracted to cytokines, dendritic cells to brain tumors, and neighbors to your barbecue. Scientists from different floors and labs formed brief aggregates out on the lawn, engaged in some mutual phosphorylation, and then drifted off to join some other group. This went on until a fire truck appeared, causing an amyloid-like formation on the side of the road.
People were discussing the standard topics among scientists: writing a dissertation, watching football, watching football while writing a dissertation, why the third referee on a paper is always a sadistic lunatic, where to buy impact points on the global black market, whether to leave science and become a sheep farmer, whether a union between a bioinformaticist and a Drosophilist could produce fertile offspring… that kind of thing. A student recounted his epic combat with the Experiment from Hell: a routine protocol that worked perfectly up to the moment you really needed it, at which point it always failed. Almost as if it knew, as if it were out to get you.
Somebody said, “Have you ever noticed that everything we work on is invisible? Sometimes I wonder if it’s really there,” to which his friend said, “It’s there unless you moved it,” which caused someone else to chime in: “Last week a technician dropped a molecule somewhere on the bench and we still haven’t found it – can somebody loan me an antibody?”
Here and there you’d hear a bit of real science; somebody would be describing a problem with a project and get a much-needed tip. I realized I wasn’t watching a cell – the lawn had become a spontaneous, self-organizing mini-conference. Like when you’re shopping in KaDeWe and suddenly, from three floors, a choir starts singing the Hallelujah chorus. Some of it’s out of tune – Doppler shifts from the sopranos on the escalators – but it’s still darned impressive.
Of course fire alarms cost money, disrupt committee meetings, and you may have to write them into your experimental protocols. But they also can pay off in ways you’d never predict. I’m sure that out there on the lawn, somebody got an idea, or started a relationship – I’m referring to a collaboration rather than a romance although the two aren’t mutually exclusive. If you were there and that happened to you (I’m talking about the science, not the romance), let me know and I’ll insert your story here. You can tell me about the romance, too, but I won’t reprint it.
It was good to be reminded of the importance of chance encounters in science – they’re an important reason for conferences, and they can be stimulated by institutional structures such as technology platforms, courses and workshops, and seminars. The most powerful catalysts, though, are often the informal ones, which is why some of us have long dreamed of a campus working café. With the right atmosphere and location, it would quickly become a hub of campus life – as has happened in so many other places.
The thing about a fire alarm or drill is that everybody has to go. As I stood out on the lawn, I realized that one thing would have made this even better: if House 31.1 were home to an equal number of PhDs and MDs. We’re developing a virtual house with the Berlin Institute of Health – in that project, what will be the equivalent of a fire drill? Will there be a real, physical lawn where everyone has to assemble when it rings? What sort of fire code will be needed to drive them out of their labs and onto the lawn?
Those issues aside, I’ll close with a central issue in fire alarms – namely, what to do when you’re confronted by actual flames. Here I refer you to a small book of etiquette written by Mark Twain, with an entire chapter on behavior at fires. It’s full of all sorts of useful tips, such as how to propose marriage to a woman while rescuing her from a burning building.
The most helpful part, though, is a list that ranks people according to the order in which they should be rescued. There are 27 items, starting with your fiancée, whom you should save first. Second on the list is any woman for whom you have affections that you have not yet expressed. (If you choose to propose to her on this occasion, he provides a brief speech that you should memorize in advance.) He also explains what to do if you accidentally save #12 on the list before #10 (no, you shouldn’t necessarily take #12 back into the fire, but you should apologize to #10, using another speech to be memorized).
Clergymen are to be rescued at position 19 – after pets, if I remember correctly – but my favorite part is the very end, which reads as follows:
24. Landlord
25. Firemen
26. Furniture
Finally, when every other individual and object has been brought to safety, you are free to rescue…
27. Mothers-in-law.
I have lived in Heidelberg for many years and it is certainly a charming place. The Old Town is small enough that you can walk from one end to another in half an hour. Except during Heidelberger Herbst. Then the same walk takes about six hours. For those unfamiliar with Heidelberger Herbst, it means “Heidelberg Autumn” and is a quaint tradition dating back to the 1980s or farther, to the 70s or perhaps the Middle Ages. Over one long weekend 1 million visitors squeeze onto a street that fits about a thousand, to buy things you could get at any normal time without feeling like a cow being driven to the slaughterhouse. That’s the type of festival we have back home in Kansas, but we call it “Hamburger Herbst.”
Otherwise the city is truly charming. In Heidelberg you can fall in love, you can visit the Beer Museum (where they have over 100 kinds of beer) and try to break the current record (25 beers within two hours, depending on whether you count restroom breaks and emergency resuscitations). There is even a wonderful university clinic where you can get a heart transplant. Yes, visitors to Heidelberg can enjoy all of these experiences, although it’s best not to try to squeeze them all into one weekend.
Sometimes, though, it happens. Take the case of an acquaintance of mine who came through town on one of those bus tours where the bus leaves the highway, drives straight into the city center, stops at McDonald’s so that everyone can go to the restroom, then gives them just enough time to stroll two or three blocks to the nearest Starbuck’s, check their Facebook pages, and get back on the bus. Then it’s off to the next big city.
On that kind of schedule you have to squeeze in all the culture you can, even if you’re on your honeymoon. My friend and his new wife had just gotten married that afternoon, during a slow moment in the bus tour, and were walking from McDonald’s to Starbucks when they spotted the Beer Museum. A bus tour doesn’t give you much time to see a bit of authentic German culture, so when you see a Beer Museum, you have to take advantage of it.
My friend and his new wife hadn’t known each other all that long; in fact they’d just met the week before, sitting next to each other on the bus tour, so they still had plenty of things to learn about each other. My friend’s wife, for example, had never witnessed the bar trick my friend had perfected in college, which involves nine empty beer bottles, drained in the traditional way, which you then stack on your head in an inverted pyramidal structure. There’s only one method of stacking known to work, and you have to be seriously drunk to accomplish it.
That night my friend gave a magnificent performance, demonstrating his proficiency at one thing, at least, which is a good thing, because after nine beers the performance he attempted to give later, on his wedding night in a hotel room, was a complete disaster. His wife burst into tears and fled for the airport. She left Germany while he was sleeping it off, a nap that lasted about a day and a half, and when he finally woke up, she was gone for good. Never to be found again, at least not by him, since he hadn’t known her long enough to learn her maiden name, the name of her hometown, her cell phone number, or even her address on Facebook or Skype. Not only was his new bride gone, the bus had left town. It broke his heart. I mean this quite literally. He was taken to the Heart Clinic, where they gave him a transplant.
If you need a transplant or some other medical intervention while visiting Heidelberg, you’ll find the clinics across the river in Neuenheimer Feld. Actually the in is part of the name, in Neuenheimer Feld, so you probably have to say they are across the river in in Neuenheimer Feld. But this looks suspiciously like one of those situations in German where you need to change the case, probably to in einer Neuenheimer Feld, or in einer anderer Neuenheimer Feld, or in some other anderer Neuenheimer Feld, so my advice is just ignore the German case system. I have learned that you can get by perfectly well without it, if you mumble your articles. Due to the somewhat inflexible nature of the brain after adolescence, it takes a long time to learn all of these complicated rules, and then all you’d have to show for it would be a bunch of derdiedasderendessens. Instead you could have used that time volunteering at an NGO that rescues victims of genocide, or Ebola. Or you could organize the annual staff Christmas party.
But back to the issue of obtaining an organ transplant while visiting Heidelberg. Across the bridge you need only follow the signs to the proper clinic. You should decide which of your organs is causing the most pain, and that’s the clinic you should head for. For a new heart you go to the Heart Clinic, and kidneys are stored in the Kidney Clinic. This cuts down on a lot of mistakes that might occur during transplantation surgery, those stories you hear, you know? Where they cut off somebody’s healthy arm or leg, and leave the injured one hanging there? Cutting off the wrong appendage is bad, but other mistakes are really gruesome, for example, when they sew an arm back on the wrong side. You see a person like this and realize there is something odd about his arms, but that they’ve been stuck on backwards isn’t the first thing that comes to mind. You usually only notice when you try to shake hands.
It’s easy to criticize a surgeon who makes this type of mistake, but think of the skill that is actually required. While there’s surely some difference between a right-arm socket and a left-arm socket, would an amateur notice? After all, our bodies are not designed like IKEA bookshelves. You go trying to jam a right-side arm into a left-side socket, at some point you ought to recognize that something’s wrong. You can get the sucker in there, but you have to use a lot of WD40 and then whack the arm with a hammer a few times and apply a lot of duct tape to keep the thing on.
Even worse than having one of your arms sewn on backwards is receiving the wrong arm entirely. I read of such a case recently. A man recently lost his arm out in the desert somewhere and they reattached it in a field hospital. After two months they took off the cast, and on his good left arm there were tattoos starting on the shoulder and going all the way down the arm, including tattoos across his knuckles. The sewn-on arm was a foot shorter, with nails painted bright pink and a little girl’s ring that they had tried to get off but couldn’t, at least not under his current medical plan. Later the biggest question was where they found a fresh arm like that, in the middle of the desert.
Now such mistakes rarely happen in Heidelberg; this university clinic has never put a right arm on the left side, or vice versa, respectively. There’s a good reason: long ago they decided to keep all the transplantation centers entirely separate. The kidneys are in a different building than the livers. The hearts are in a different clinic than the brains. There are different clinics for your right side and your left side: a clinic for right arms and another for left arms, more for right legs and left legs, left eyeballs and right eyeballs, etc. Unfortunately some of the clinics for the right side are on the left side of the road, or vice versa when you’re coming from the other direction, so you need to follow the signs. You’ll see, “RIGHT LEFT ARM CLINIC” on a sign that is, appropriately, shaped like an arm, pointing right, and if you’re coming the other direction you’ll see the arm from the other side, so it’s pointing left and it says “RIGHT RIGHT ARM CLINIC.” Most people head for that one. They certainly don’t want the “WRONG RIGHT ARM CLINIC,” or the “RIGHT WRONG ARM CLINIC,” which are in an entirely different part of town.
The system works wonderfully until you get to an organ such as the heart or brain, which most people only have one copy of, and then the university has the dilemma of deciding whether the clinic gets grouped with the right or left, at which point politics and special interests may come into play. Years ago the rightists jumped in to lay claim on the heart. In making the pitch, a representative said the following:
First of all, a heart is red, and red is the color of the right, as is obvious from the fact that Americans place their right hands on their hearts when Pledging Allegiance to the flag. For Americans, the heart is a sacred tradition. Their mothers had hearts, and you can’t get much more sacred than your mother, I don’t care what religion you belong to. In some cultures this affection extends to mothers-in-law, which means that a person regards his (or her) mother-in-law as more sacred than his or her wife or husband, respectively. Probably in France, for example. In France it could well be an ancient tradition to sleep with your mother-in-law. There are also cannibalistic societies that celebrate funerals by eating the heart of the person who died. I have no direct evidence of this in France, but I wouldn’t rule it out, given other things that the French are known to eat, including horseflesh, which is sold under the generic term “beef”.
In fact the administrator was misquoting celebrated French sociologist Simon Saucisson, who had first noted the overlap of the two trends in New Guinea. It could not be an accident, said Saucisson, that cannibalism and mother-in-law reverence showed such an overlapping pattern among ancient tribes. In some cases the traditions had become confused, so aboriginals began eating the hearts of their mother-in-laws, usually at the funeral, but sometimes a few minutes before. Saucisson invented the technical term “mangeurs du coeur de la belle-mère” that is now commonly used to classify these cultures in a larger social matrix.
Simon Saucisson comments: “Members of these cultures typically regard mothers-in-law as goddesses and therefore eat their hearts, so that you can develop an intimate relationship with the goddess as she passes through your digestive tract. The heart of your average mother-in-law will feed a normal-sized family, but in a tribe there aren’t that many mothers-in-law to begin with, and you go through them pretty fast. So you need to supplement your diet with other things, as well. For example, crickets.”
Since the right got the heart, the brain automatically went to the left, which explains a lot about the current political climate.
Photos taken by Mehrnoosh Rayner

Getting warmed up. That thing on my face isn’t food – just a microphone. Felt like a little UFO hovering around my mouth the whole evening.

Half-way in and nobody dead yet. So far so good.

With Jochen Wittbrodt, developmental biologist extraordinaire, and Ken Holmes, founding father of synchrotron radiation in structural biology extraordinaire.
Just in time for Christmas – finally another edition of the Best of PubMed! For those of you unfamiliar with these articles, these are references to publications (mostly from the Biomedical literature) listed at www.pubmed.org. If you want to follow up on an article, cut and paste the “PubMed ID” number into the search field at the PubMed website. Happy reading and happy holidays!
Check out past “Best of PubMed” entries on a range of themes – from Halloween to the World Series to the dangers of shooting out your eye with a BB gun – here on the blog. More to come soon!
Do reindeer and children know something that we don’t? Pediatric inpatients’ belief in Santa Claus.
Cyr C.
CMAJ. 2002 Dec 10;167(12):1325-7. No abstract available.
PMID: 12473618
The tooth fairy, Santa Claus, and the hard core drinking driver.
Chamberlain E, Solomon R.
Inj Prev. 2001 Dec;7(4):272-5. No abstract available.
PMID: 11770650 Free PMC Article
[Why is Santa Claus bowed?].
Leirisalo-Repo M.
Duodecim. 1998;114(23):2481-6. Finnish. No abstract available.
PMID: 11757148
Christmas, santa claus, sugarplums and the grinch.
Lau DC.
Can J Diabetes. 2011 Dec;35(5):484-5. doi: 10.1016/S1499-2671(11)80001-8. No abstract available.
PMID: 24854970
All I want for coagulation.
Nunn KP, Bridgett MR, Walters MR, Walker I.
Scott Med J. 2011 Nov;56(4):183-7. doi: 10.1258/smj.2011.011154. Review.
PMID: 22089036
“Here comes Santa Claus”: what is the evidence?
Highfield ME.
Adv Emerg Nurs J. 2011 Oct-Dec;33(4):354-8. doi: 10.1097/TME.0b013e318234ead3.
PMID: 22075686
“Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus”.
Angelica JC.
J Pastoral Care Counsel. 2011 Spring-Summer;65(1-2):10.1-2. No abstract available.
PMID: 21928502
Safer toys coming, but not with Santa Claus.
Thibedeau H.
CMAJ. 2009 Sep 15;181(6-7):E111-2. doi: 10.1503/cmaj.109-3003. No abstract available.
PMID: 19752130 Free PMC Article
Visiting Santa: a supplemental view.
Trinkaus J.
Psychol Rep. 2008 Dec;103(3):691-4.
PMID: 19320200
Hemoglobin’s moving around (to the tune of “Santa Claus is Coming to Town”).
Ahern K.
Biochem Mol Biol Educ. 2007 Nov;35(6):478. doi: 10.1002/bmb.118. No abstract available.
PMID: 21591150
Song: Glucagon is coming around (to the tune of “santa claus is coming to town”)*.
Ahern K.
Biochem Mol Biol Educ. 2006 Jan;34(1):36. doi: 10.1002/bmb.2006.49403401036. No abstract available.
PMID: 21638631
Germs and angels: the role of testimony in young children’s ontology.
Harris PL, Pasquini ES, Duke S, Asscher JJ, Pons F.
Dev Sci. 2006 Jan;9(1):76-96.
Santa Claus and staff retention.
Olivi PM.
Radiol Manage. 2005 Sep-Oct;27(5):10-1. No abstract available.
PMID: 16294580
Oliver Twist and Santa Claus.
Gannon F.
EMBO Rep. 2004 May;5(5):431. No abstract available.
PMID: 15184969
[Is Santa Claus still needed?].
Tamminen T.
Duodecim. 2003;119(23):2317-22. Finnish. No abstract available.
PMID: 14768260
Images in cardiovascular medicine. Santa Claus in the echo lab.
Kobza R, Duru F, Jenni R.
Circulation. 2003 Dec 23;108(25):3164. No abstract available.
PMID: 14691023
Neurogenetics: three wishes to Santa Claus.
Coutinho P.
Arch Neurol. 2000 Jan;57(1):59. No abstract available.
PMID: 10634444
[Santa Claus as a consultant. “Then we together will rejoice, children’s eyes will shine with joy”].
Puumalainen AM, Vapalahti M.
Duodecim. 1997;113(23):2467-70. Finnish. No abstract available.
PMID: 10892154
[Santa Claus is perceived as reliable and friendly: results of the Danish Christmas 2013 survey.]
Amin FM, West AS, Jørgensen CS, Simonsen SA, Lindberg U, Tranum-Jensen J, Hougaard A.
Ugeskr Laeger. 2013 Dec 2;175(49):3021-3023. Danish.
PMID: 24629466
Syntrophin proteins as Santa Claus: role(s) in cell signal transduction.
Bhat HF, Adams ME, Khanday FA.
Cell Mol Life Sci. 2013 Jul;70(14):2533-54. doi: 10.1007/s00018-012-1233-9. Epub 2012 Dec 21. Review.
PMID: 23263165
What does God know? Supernatural agents’ access to socially strategic and non-strategic information.
Purzycki BG, Finkel DN, Shaver J, Wales N, Cohen AB, Sosis R.
Cogn Sci. 2012 Jul;36(5):846-69. doi: 10.1111/j.1551-6709.2012.01242.x. Epub 2012 Mar 29.
PMID: 22462490
Santa Claus: good or bad for children?
Nelms BC.
J Pediatr Health Care. 1996 Nov-Dec;10(6):243-4. No abstract available.
PMID: 9052114
Perhaps there is a Santa Claus.
Van Eldik DT.
J Fla Med Assoc. 1994 Dec;81(12):795-6. No abstract available.
PMID: 7861106
Encounter with reality: children’s reactions on discovering the Santa Claus myth.
Anderson CJ, Prentice NM.
Child Psychiatry Hum Dev. 1994 Winter;25(2):67-84.
PMID: 7842832
Do you believe in Santa Claus?
Atkinson J.
Nurs Stand. 1988 Dec 31;3(13-14):20-1. No abstract available.
PMID: 3068551
Epidemiology of reindeer parasites.
Halvorsen O.
Parasitol Today. 1986 Dec;2(12):334-9.
PMID: 15462756
A letter to Santa Claus.
Shusterman C.
Am Laund Dig. 1985 Dec 15;50(12):14-6. No abstract available.
PMID: 10275266
In the absence of Santa Claus.
Tebben MP.
Public Health Rep. 1985 Jul;100(4):355. No abstract available.
PMID: 19313171
Picture Reports: Influenza virus, Santa Claus, or a mouse playing tennis?
Getty B.
Br Med J (Clin Res Ed). 1984 Dec 22;289(6460):1744. No abstract available.
PMID: 20742372 Free PMC Article
Children’s belief in santa claus: a developmental study of fantasy and causality.
Prentice NM, Schmechel LK, Manosevitz M.
J Am Acad Child Psychiatry. 1979 Autumn;18(4):658-67.
Imaginary figures of early childhood: santa claus, easter bunny, and the tooth fairy.
Prentice NM, Manosevitz M, Hubbs L.
Am J Orthopsychiatry. 1978 Oct;48(4):618-28.
Santa Claus will probably be coming.
Ammer DS.
Hosp Purch Manage. 1977 Dec;2(12):2-3. No abstract available.
PMID: 10305079
A note on the absence of a Santa Claus in any known ecosystem: a rejoinder to Willems.
Baer DM.
J Appl Behav Anal. 1974 Spring;7(1):167-9. No abstract available.
PMID: 16795462 Free PMC Article
The d.a. Who was Santa Claus?
Peyraud AP.
CAL. 1972 Dec;36(6):26-30. No abstract available.
PMID: 4510978
Another note to Santa Claus.
Cummins S, Garms N, Zusne L.
Percept Mot Skills. 1971 Apr;32(2):510. No abstract available.
PMID: 4932683
Meet Dr. Cloonan Santa Claus 365 days a year.
Penny PL.
CAL. 1970 Dec;33(6):15-9. No abstract available.
PMID: 5277587
Santa Claus drawings by Negro and white children.
Coyle FA Jr, Eisenman R.
J Soc Psychol. 1970 Apr;80(2):201-5. No abstract available.
PMID: 4924834
Barefoot in the hospital park or yes Virginia, there is a Mrs. Santa Claus known as the administrator’s wife.
Spencer V.
Hosp Manage. 1967 Dec;104(6):33-7. No abstract available.
PMID: 6063631
Charlie’s Santa Claus.
Stollard ML.
Nurs Times. 1965 Dec 24;61(52):1762. No abstract available.
PMID: 5849676
[The sweet Christmas rash.]
Gyldenløve M, Nepper-Christensen S, Thyssen JP, Faurschou A.
Ugeskr Laeger. 2013 Dec 2;175(49):3025-3026. Danish.
PMID: 24629468
The Christmas tree foreheadplasty: a novel technique used in combination with a bandeau for fronto-orbital remodelling in craniosynostosis.
Britto JA, Gwanmesia I, Leshem D.
Childs Nerv Syst. 2012 Sep;28(9):1375-80. doi: 10.1007/s00381-012-1806-9.
PMID: 22872251
The need for gas-specific “Christmas tree” connections.
Atlas G, Lee M.
J Patient Saf. 2012 Jun;8(2):88. doi: 10.1097/PTS.0b013e31824a4af4. No abstract available.
PMID: 22610127
[A woman with Christmas in sight].
Fickweiler W, de Vries MM, Postma G.
Ned Tijdschr Geneeskd. 2011;155(51):A4242. Dutch.
PMID: 22200154
SIRT1 regulates the ribosomal DNA locus: epigenetic candles twinkle longevity in the Christmas tree.
Salminen A, Kaarniranta K.
Biochem Biophys Res Commun. 2009 Jan 2;378(1):6-9. doi: 10.1016/j.bbrc.2008.11.023. Epub 2008 Nov 21. Review.
PMID: 19010308
The importance of elves.
Nurs Spectr (Wash D C). 1996 Dec 16;6(26):3.
Hess RG Jr.
PMID: 9433318
The gnome of Dulwich.
Goodwin P.
Nurs Times. 1971 Sep 2;67(35):1096.
PMID: 5565702
[Santa Claus is perceived as reliable and friendly: results of the Danish Christmas 2013 survey.]
[Article in Danish]
Amin FM1, West AS, Jørgensen CS, Simonsen SA, Lindberg U, Tranum-Jensen J, Hougaard A.
Ugeskr Laeger. 2013 Dec 2;175(49):3021-3023.
Abstract
INTRODUCTION:
Several studies have indicated that the population in general perceives doctors as reliable. In the present study perceptions of reliability and kindness attributed to another socially significant archetype, Santa Claus, have been comparatively examined in relation to the doctor.
MATERIALS AND METHODS:
In all, 52 randomly chosen participants were shown a film, where a narrator dressed either as Santa Claus or as a doctor tells an identical story. Structured interviews were then used to assess the subjects’ perceptions of reliability and kindness in relation to the narrator’s appearance.
RESULTS:
We found a strong inclination for Santa Claus being perceived as friendlier than the doctor (p = 0.053). However, there was no significant difference in the perception of reliability between Santa Claus and the doctor (p = 0.524).
CONCLUSION:
The positive associations attributed to Santa Claus probably cause that he is perceived friendlier than the doctor who may be associated with more serious and unpleasant memories of illness and suffering. Surprisingly, and despite him being an imaginary person, Santa Claus was assessed as being as reliable as the doctor.
What does God know? Supernatural agents’ access to socially strategic and non-strategic information.
Purzycki BG1, Finkel DN, Shaver J, Wales N, Cohen AB, Sosis R.
Cogn Sci. 2012 Jul;36(5):846-69. doi: 10.1111/j.1551-6709.2012.01242.x. Epub 2012 Mar 29.
Abstract
Current evolutionary and cognitive theories of religion posit that supernatural agent concepts emerge from cognitive systems such as theory of mind and social cognition. Some argue that these concepts evolved to maintain social order by minimizing antisocial behavior. If these theories are correct, then people should process information about supernatural agents’ socially strategic knowledge more quickly than non-strategic knowledge. Furthermore, agents’ knowledge of immoral and uncooperative social behaviors should be especially accessible to people. To examine these hypotheses, we measured response-times to questions about the knowledge attributed to four different agents–God, Santa Claus, a fictional surveillance government, and omniscient but non-interfering aliens–that vary in their omniscience, moral concern, ability to punish, and how supernatural they are. As anticipated, participants respond more quickly to questions about agents’ socially strategic knowledge than non-strategic knowledge, but only when agents are able to punish.
Christmas, santa claus, sugarplums and the grinch.
Lau DC.
Can J Diabetes. 2011 Dec;35(5):484-5. doi: 10.1016/S1499-2671(11)80001-8.
PMID: 24854970
All I want for coagulation.
Nunn KP1, Bridgett MR, Walters MR, Walker I.
Scott Med J. 2011 Nov;56(4):183-7. doi: 10.1258/smj.2011.011154.
Abstract
Evidence-based medicine underpins modern practice of medicine. This paper describes a fictional consultation between Santa Claus and a doctor regarding deep vein thrombosis (DVT) prophylaxis, giving a review of the evidence for DVT prophylaxis in travellers while exposing the difficulty in applying evidence to atypical clinical encounters. Medline and the Cochrane Library were searched, and guidelines reviewed. Keywords used were DVT, thromboembolism, deep vein thrombosis and air travel-related venous thromboembolism. All relevant studies found, have been included in this review, with additional studies identified from the references in these articles. In conclusion, compression stockings, with or without a one-off dose of either aspirin or heparin, are the most evidence-based approaches for prophylaxis in someone with established risk factors for DVT prior to a long-haul flight. Simple exercises should also be encouraged.
“Here comes Santa Claus”: what is the evidence?
Highfield ME1.
Adv Emerg Nurs J. 2011 Oct-Dec;33(4):354-8. doi: 10.1097/TME.0b013e318234ead3.
Abstract
The purpose of this article is to examine the strength of evidence regarding our holiday Santa Claus (SC) practices and the opportunities for new descriptive, correlation, or experimental research on SC. Although existing evidence generally supports SC, in the end we may conclude, “the most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see” (Church, as cited in Newseum, n.d.).
Have you noticed how anything that happens on Mars, or in outer space, or even at a really high altitude, such as the top row of bookshelves in the library, is ecstatically portrayed by the media as evidence of extraterrestrial life? Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for extraterrestrial life. I’ve been actively looking for it since I was a child. The closest I’ve ever come is the discovery of an Unidentified Swimming Object (USO) in a bowl of soup purchased in the Gare du Nord in Paris, France, but further investigation suggested a terrestrial origin, that it had evolved from the green fungus on the horse steak (Plat du Jour), crawled over the rim of the bowl, and rapidly adapted to an aquatic environment. Take-home message: never order the 14,- Euro ménu in the Gare du Nord – unless you care to repeat this experiment.
Two weeks ago we saw the surfacing of a new trend whereby the media (and apparently a few scientists) interpret the discovery of anything spherical in space, or from space, as evidence of extraterrestrial life. This is not entirely unreasonable. After all, the Death Star was spherical, wasn’t it? I’m not completely clear about the species assignment of Darth Vader or Carrie Fischer – they certainly look human rather than alien (except for Carrie’s hair, or Darth Vader’s brain after being partially lobotomized by a light saber), but since they came from a Galaxy Far, Far Away they were certainly extraterrestrials, by definition…
Of course, there are a few spherical objects in space that aren’t necessarily evidence of E.T.s (the moon, stars, planets without atmospheres) – but whenever a new sphere pops up, you have to ask yourself the question. If it happens once, surely a certain degree of skepticism is called for. But twice in one week?? And then a third time??? Science requires an open mind… Let’s review the evidence.
Case number 1: Water on a really fast hat
This week astronomers discovered a spectral signature of water on HAT-P-11b, a “Neptune-sized planet” (in other words, a really, really large ball) orbiting a sun in the constellation Cygnus. In my opinion they could have found a simpler name for the planet, one that was more aesthetically pleasing, like “Giovanni”, or “Mergatroid”, but then, I’m not an astronomer. Not that biologists are any better; they probably would have called the planet Seven-up, Bruno or Oskar, or Big Momma Stem Cell, or something equally strange.
I particularly like the title of one of the media reports on this story: “Hot Wet Alien World discovered in constellation Cygnus.” Talk about blatant attempts to draw hits to your website… If a person types “hot wet alien” into the Google search box – which surely happens all the time – guess what pops up first?
Interestingly, none of the reports (including the abstract of the article in Nature) tell us precisely which star this planet is orbiting, perhaps to keep us from flying out there and taking a look ourselves. A word of caution if you’re contemplating a road trip. What looks like a nice, tidy constellation from here on Earth is actually spread out over some considerable distances. One of the stars in Cygnus is about 11.4 light years from us, and another is 3200 light years away. So don’t leave home without a full tank of gas, or plasma or whatever, and a whole bunch of NASA freeze-dried ice cream.
The authors of the paper cagily tell us that the planet lies at a distance of about 120 light years from Earth, so if you’re willing to do a bit of research, you can probably figure out the identity of the culprit star. They also say that the planet orbits its sun about every five days. And that it’s atmosphere is “surprisingly clear.”
I don’t find this atmospheric clarity surprising at all on a planet four times the size of the Earth, whizzing around its sun in a year that lasts only five days. At that speed you’d need to hang onto your HAT-P-11b. This planet is really moving. If you’ve ever ridden down the German Autobahn at 250 kph in a convertible with the top down, you’ll know that any fog inside the car tends to dissipate rather quickly. It’s also rather hard to breathe. You do, on the other hand, accumulate a lot of smashed bugs, which suggests that any aliens on HAT-P-11b are probably hunkered down on land, holding on for dear life, and have evolved seatbelts, or at least the sort of glue by which Earthly barnacles attach themselves to ships.
The E.T. aspect of this story wasn’t played up as much as in the past, when the merest whiff of water outside our solar system has consistently caused a sort of media feeding frenzy, or at least a bar crawl. You may recall the story I reported on here, in which a certain Prof. Vogt claimed that life was “certain to exist” on a planet called Gliese 581g. His reasoning went something like this: the planet lay in the so-called “habitable sphere” (yes, another ball) around its star, which made it likely to have water, which led to Vogt’s extraordinary and somewhat inscrutable statement during a press briefing:
“Personally, given the ubiquity and propensity of life to flourish wherever it can, I would say, my own personal feeling is that the chances of life on this planet are 100 percent. I have almost no doubt about it.”
We’ll just pause here for a moment so that you can puzzle over the intricacies of that statement. As you do, keep in mind the fact that two weeks later, Michael Mayor and his exoplanet-mythbusting team from Switzerland suggested that Gliese 581g might not exist at all – it could merely have been a glitch in “noisy” spectroscopic data, or someone who forgot to clean his eyeglasses. I couldn’t find a response from Prof. Vogt. In fact, I haven’t heard much mention of him at all recently.
Case number 2: A ball on Mars.
This one is really impressive; check out the image. That pesky rover Curiosity keeps taking pictures of odd things as it rolls across the surface of Mars. Remember the space rat it photographed in May, last year? NASA says it was just a rock – of course they’d say that, otherwise they’d have to tell us the truth about Area 51 and Steve Jobs and a lot of reverse-engineered alien technology, such as the iPhone 6. This week Curiosity photographed a perfect little sphere, just sitting out there on a rock, minding its own business. The official explanation proposes that it was carved out by water, but there are winds on Mars, and it surely would have rolled away by now.
I actually have a hypothesis about this: I think it’s a golf ball, most likely hit by one of two people: Alan Shepard or Tiger Woods. I have this on good authority from my father, Ed Hodge, who has turned the discovery of lost golf balls into an art, if not a science, and a lucrative source of retirement income.
If this artifact on Mars is Shepard’s golf ball, it was launched from the surface of the moon on Feb. 6, 1971. On that date astronaut Alan Shepard climbed out of the lunar capsule of Apollo 14 with a golf club and two golf balls. One news report says he had smuggled them aboard in his “space suit.” Where in a suit could you hide a long, pole-shaped object and two balls? Here we’ll take another brief pause so that you can consider that one…
Just remember that security measures were a bit more lax in 1971. Today you’d never get them past airport security, let alone onto a Saturn V rocket. People have been known to try to smuggle 62 poisonous snakes through security, but a golf club? And two balls?
Anyway, is it conceivable that one of Shepard’s two balls (yes, I am referring to the golf balls, for those of you with perverse imaginations) reached escape velocity and, through a combination of careful aim, dumb luck and Newtonian physics reached this precise spot on Mars, to land 43 years later right in the path of Curiosity? To answer this question we need to consider a couple of factors (actually a lot more, but let’s keep things simple).
First: escape velocity on the moon is 2.4 km per second. Could Alan Shepard have hit a golf ball that fast? On Earth, they say, most golfers achieve a swing that is 160 km per hour. That works out to about 0.044 km/sec. In his prime, Tiger Woods achieved a swing of about 0.056 km/sec, and he didn’t have to smuggle anything onto the course in his pants to do it (well, actually…). Anyway, most of Tiger Woods’ tournaments have taken place on Earth, at least those that we know about, whose escape velocity is 11.2 km/sec. Tiger Woods would have to hit the ball 200 times faster to send it out of Earth’s atmosphere toward Mars, and there are all kinds of other things to take into consideration, such as resistance posed by the atmosphere and its ability to evade all sorts of obstacles: birds, airplanes, innocent bystanders (remember President Gerald Ford?) and the 500,000 pieces of space junk floating in Earth orbit.
Alan Shepard, on the other hand, would only have had to hit the ball 60 times harder to send it on its way to Mars. Consider that his swing was unencumbered by any wind resistance on the lunar surface. It was, however, perhaps encumbered by his bulky space suit, which would probably be like playing golf in one of those Sumo wrestler costumes. The one time I put one of those on I was almost smothered by a Portuguese woman who was 5’2” tall and weighed 85 pounds, but then we had gravity to contend with. Taking all of these factors into consideration, I think the evidence tips things in favor of Shepard.
One should perhaps note here that the average speed of a bullet leaving a .44 Magnum, as can be observed in the classic movies of Clint Eastwood, is approximately .40 – .475 km per second, which means that Alan would only have had to hit the ball about six times the speed of Clint’s bullet in order to propel the thing out of lunar gravity and toward its current location. Is this more likely than an alien leaving little round spheres on Mars, perhaps in the form of rodent droppings? You decide.
Case number 3. Conspicuous clay ovoids.
I love space programs, despite the fact that they are funded at a level of about a million times that of cancer research, but it turns out you can find Martians without ever leaving Earth at all. The third story about aliens is another tale of cracking open a meteorite and finding – no, not the Higgs boson, although I don’t think this can be definitively ruled out – something that (sort of) (maybe) might (possibly) resemble a cell.
I am speaking, of course, of the “conspicuous clay ovoid” discovered this week in a meteorite named Nakhla (a much cooler name than HAT-P-11b). Nakhla was ejected from the surface of Mars (there is no evidence that a golf club was involved), flew off into space, and collided with Egypt. It also collided with a dog, which was vaporized instantly, leaving no traces, not even dog DNA. I especially like the logic by which this event is reported on the website of NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory:
“This dog story did lead directly to the recovery of several fragments of the Nakhla meteorite. The meteorites are very real, so there’s no reason to doubt the dog story.”
Decades later, scientists in Greece and the UK began slicing Nakhla up into tiny slivers, oblivious to the fact that they might be cutting up tiny little Martians, and in the process they came upon a mysterious little sphere that they call a “conspicuous biomorphic ovoid structure.” Biomorphic means “resembling or suggesting the forms of living organisms,” and “ovoid” is defined as “shaped like an egg,” which gives anyone reading the article all sorts of reasons to think of aliens, and makes you wonder about the wisdom of slicing up meteorites. I mean, the thing might hatch.
The news widely reported this as evidence of a “cell structure,” “more evidence of the possibility of life on Mars,” or even that “Mars is still habitable.” All very promising, until you carefully read the paper, which provides a more sobering view.
The first citation from the paper starts out promising, but fades out toward the end: “One reason why we carried out this investigation into the origin of the ovoid structure in Nakhla is because the conspicuous rounded shape of the structure is somewhat reminiscent of a terrestrial cellular microorganism… Despite the conspicuous shape and structure, the ovoid is very large, and martian microorganisms are expected to be chemotrophic and therefore probably very small (<1 μm) in size.”
If you’re patient enough to read all the way to the end, or at least past the first 140 characters, a skill which seems to evade most journalists, the biological hypothesis receives a pretty good dousing: “The consideration of possible biotic scenarios for the origin of the ovoid structure in Nakhla currently lacks any sort of compelling evidence. Therefore, based on the available data that we have obtained on the nature of this conspicuous ovoid structure in Nakhla, we conclude that the most reasonable explanation for its origin is that it formed through abiotic processes.” Abiotic meaning that this is not the ball of an E.T.
Alas, alas, having balls is not sufficient evidence for all of this week’s wonderful speculation about E.T.s. But please keep looking, guys. There are a lot more spheres out there in space to investigate. Probably more rodents as well. Maybe even a Yeti. (After all, if you find a Yeti in Norway, as I have suggested in another piece, it must have come from somewhere.) Or at least a pyramid carved in the shape of a face. After all, Nakhla was aimed at Egypt, and aimed specifically at a dog. Sort of a Martian meteorite drone. We know that rodents on Earth don’t particularly like dogs; why should they be any different on Mars?
Naturally, these three reports could be simply a random set of bizarre coincidences whose occurrence within a single week defies logic and all kinds of probabilities which are difficult to estimate without knowing what dark matter is, or the current whereabouts of the elusive Higgs boson. But I take my responsibilities as a science writer seriously. Somebody has to connect the dots. Or in this case, the balls.
Here are more excerpts from concerts in June and July in which I performed with my early music ensemble, Syntagma. These recordings were made with the Anglistenchor in Heidelberg. More to come soon, including instrumental suites from the concerts.
Have mercy upon me, O God (William Byrd)
Actus Tragicus, Sonatina (J.S. Bach)
Actus Tragicus, Gottes Zeit
Actus Tragicus, Glorie
An interview about the two concerts
(Getting evolution wrong, once again)
Recently the Mother Nature Network (not to be interpreted as the Mother of the Nature scientific publications, as far as I can tell) posted an article by Michael Graham Richard entitled “What will humans look like in 100,000 years?” (You can find it here.) The result is another case of an interesting question that gets convoluted by some rather strange assumptions about how evolution works.
The image that is presented represents the work of “artist and researcher Nickolay Lamm … with help from Dr. Alan Kwan,” a PhD in computational genomics. Richard’s article doesn’t state whether the piece is based on an actual scientific publication or not. I couldn’t find either name on PubMed, which means that the paper on the topic hasn’t been published yet, or has been rejected many times, or is in some nebulous state in between. Maybe they’ll have a better chance of finding a journal in 100,000 years, when their hypothesis can finally be tested.
I was immediately alarmed by the fact that the man and woman in the picture are Caucasians. If current demographic trends continue, I doubt there will be many “Caucasians” left in 100,000 years, if there are any at all. Lamm gets around this with the statement, “we shouldn’t read too much into the fact that the man and woman are Caucasian because those were just the best models he could find.” All right, we’ll give him a pass on that one.
The head of the man of the future is a bit more triangular than that of most people nowadays. This is explained by the “Heads are a bit bigger to accommodate larger brains,” the article explains. Well, to me, the shape of the man’s head has changed, but the woman’s hasn’t really. Will only men have larger brains? Will they be born that way? Will women need larger hips to bear them?
It’s true that that the female model they used to begin with has an unusual face to begin with: her eyes are set higher than normal in the face, if you go by classical rules of drawing that tell you to place them equidistant from the top of the head and the bottom of the chin. So it may look like her forehead has stretched upwards – maybe, though, her eyes have just migrated down to a more normal position in the face.
And is it true that we will really need larger brains? Won’t I have an iPhone able to store petabytes of data, or some kind of chip located at the base of my brain that can immediately access Wikipedia and Facebook (everyone will be friends with everyone in 100,000 years, all 100 billion of us)? Not to mention direct, on-line streaming. These gadgets would allow us to “outsource” most of the information we currently have to store in our brains. So a good argument can be made that our brains might shrink – it’s already happening, to judge from a lot of daily experiences I have with other humans.
The biggest difference in Lamm’s humans of the distant future is the size of the eyes, which have grown to make people look like cartoon characters. “Manga-style eyes,” to quote the article. It states, “Lamm speculates that this would be a result of human colonization of the solar system, with people living father away from the sun where there is less light.” He goes on to say that these conditions might promote the development of a sideways blink (that would be cool) and thicker eyelids to offer protection from cosmic rays on the fringes of our solar system.
To insinuate these features into the population at large and influence its evolution, the original mutants would have to live on Neptune or Pluto or wherever for a loooong time, probably thousands of generations, and have oodles of very fertile kids who would then come back and mate (very successfully) with the founder population on Earth. Of course, other people might be living on Venus, or Mercury, where there’s a lot MORE light, so presumably they’d have smaller eyes. Or maybe their eyes will develop built-in sunglasses, where our lenses get darker when exposed to bright sources of light. Sort of like the eyeglasses we wore back in the 70’s, which were supposed to turn grey in the light. At some point they usually got stuck in “grey mode,” which meant that all of our family pictures look like Mafia reunions.
Lamm even adds yellow rings to the eyes, “special lenses that act kind of like Google Glass does today, but in a much more powerful way.” Constant access to the Internet (right there on your eyeballs) will reduce the amount of information we need to access in our brains; we won’t need to store anything that’s instantly available on-line. This is another argument for the smaller-brain trend.
Of course, evolutionary innovations in eyeballs will pose some social challenges: it will be hard, for example, to keep people from cheating during tests. And you’ll be able to watch movies on your contact lenses while doing other things, such as driving, unless society has solved the problem of automobiles. Maybe you’ll have to remove the lenses during these activities, or switch them off, but that will probably be illegal. The business lobby will be tracking the motion of your eyeballs and people will be recording what you’re seeing for marketing research, and they’ll have a huge lobby to pass profitable laws.
I was in Oslo recently, which experiences long periods of decreased daylight in the winter months. That’s the kind of place where you’d expect to see the birth of huge eyes, if they arise by chance and somehow lead their owners to have a lot more kids. I didn’t notice any of these cartoon people walking around. But maybe it was just too dark to really notice. Next time I’ll keep my eyes open.