Donald
Weaver is Professor of Chemistry and Director of Krembil
Research Institute, University Health Network, University
of Toronto. Disclosure statement: He receives funding from
Canadian Institutes of Health Research, Krembil Foundation,
Weston Brain Institute and the Harrington Discovery Institute.
This article was originally published in The Conversation
(https://theconversation.com)
Refitted, but
still rusted in a few places and needing some minor paint
touch-ups, her beauty lies not in appearance but in the
symbolic hope that she inspires. Recently rechristened Rewolfyam,
her keel-laying was 30 years ago in 2021. Originally designed
as a trans-Atlantic cargo ship, she had been reassigned
as a Great Lakes freighter, as had many smaller cargo ships
unable to cope with the evermore frequent oceanic super-storms
affecting worldwide transportation routes, but well-suited
to the higher water levels of the Great Lakes. Starting
today, Rewolfyam will cross the Atlantic once again. Last
week the Global Weather Authority predicted a four-week
travel-safe corridor, so today the renovated Rewolfyam starts
her maiden voyage carrying me and 199 other scientists from
North America to two new Super Science Centres, one in the
UK, the other in Germany. We are in search of intellectual
liberty, fleeing the scientific tyranny of autocracy that
hangs heavy over North America. We need freedom to practice
our science, openly and without persecution.
Scheduled to
board in about one hour, I am sitting here experiencing
a deluge of conflicting thoughts and emotions. My career
had started with much promise: an undergraduate degree in
Canada followed by graduate school and a postdoctoral fellowship
from an American Ivy League university, at which I had ultimately
stayed as a faculty theoretical chemist. But much had changed.
Twenty-four
years ago, when I was a first-year university student, science
was riding high having recently enjoyed a number of conspicuous
successes: two taikonauts had just landed on Mars, a cure
for colon cancer had been discovered by some little-known
academic, and biochemists had announced an effective new
molecule for treating drug-resistant superbug infections.
The glory days of science were back – but only temporarily.
In 2028, both
the US and Canada had independently elected hardline populist-nationalist
leaders – a dark anti-intellectual cloud hung over
the entire continent. In the following four years, government
attitudes towards science changed dramatically. Funding
to science was cut in half, and then reduced again. Falsely
claiming to be putting “true democracy” into
action, all grants were targeted “to meet the will
and needs of the people and the corporations that employ
them” – thus the research that was funded had
better give the right answers. Research that reached conclusions
not in alignment with government policy was declared “undemocratic”
and labelled as “elitist lies being forced upon the
good working people of the nation”. Government committees
were empowered to seize laboratory notebooks and demand
repayment of grants if the results were producing “obvious
falsehoods against the democratically elected leaders of
the people” … and then things got worse.
The 2030s was
truly a bleak decade. Disaster followed upon disaster, and
scientists saying “I told you so” were not being
terribly helpful. Old pipelines disintegrated, fouling groundwater
over thousands of square kilometres. The neonicotinoid insecticide
tragedy finally became fully apparent as bees and many other
insect populations were annihilated. Farms failed; food
prices skyrocketed. The resulting food and water shortages
were worsened by climate change. Summer temperatures soared,
once-in-a-century storms happened every six months, and
coastal communities were flooded. Regrettably, rather than
being regarded as a potential source of solutions, scientists
and medical researchers were seen as the cause of the calamities
befalling our continent. Cuts to research deepened and control
over research results tightened.
Then, by 2040
an increasing number of wealthy businesspeople, having profited
from the ongoing catastrophes but recognizing the value
of science, began to emerge as patrons of the sciences.
Scientists no longer applied for grants, we courted patrons.
Personally, I enjoyed the support of two patrons. The first
was Patrick Lefebvre who had become a multi-billionaire
by controlling vast reserves of fresh water from northern
Canada. Tanker ships carrying huge quantities of fresh water
left Canadian Arctic ports daily. My other patron was trillionaire
J.R. Sanchez, a Mexican immigrant to the U.S. who as a master’s
student had accidently stumbled upon techniques for “meat”
production in drought resistant crops. His first success
had been chicken peas – an easily cultivated plant
with seed-pods rich in a protein which tastes just like
chicken. They became a worldwide food staple. People like
Lefebvre and Sanchez were true patrons, funding fundamental
basic science with no strings attached. And it was easy
to apply to them without massive time-consuming applications
– a simple 20,000-character proposal (with a 180 second
4D-holovid attachment vidlinked to your public biomod).
Curiously, none of these initial patrons had made their
wealth from fossil fuels, electronic devices, or information/social
media technologies; those families were struggling to keep
their fortunes. Money is very much a human creation, and
when times get bleak, food, water and health are all that
really matters.
But the vigour
of this patron-funded rebound seemed short-lived. Universities,
strapped for cash from government cutbacks, began to levy
200% and then 300% overhead charges. The patrons had not
become wealthy by being financially stupid. Accordingly,
a group of the leading 100 patrons got together, forming
The Patron Group (TPG), and the notion of Super Science
Centres (SSCs) was born. England (homeland of Newton, Faraday,
Darwin) and Germany (homeland of Leibniz, Einstein, Fischer)
were selected as politically stable, scientifically friendly
original sites, with long-term plans for expansion to India,
Russia, Brazil and then ultimately a worldwide SSC network
(China is developing its own independent SSC system). Fortuitously,
I have been selected as one of the original pioneer SSC
scientists.
Today’s
voyage of the Rewolfyam, though useful for transporting
large scientific equipment, is primarily a public relations
spectacle – a gimmick – orchestrated by TPG
to grandiosely announce the birth of the first two SSCs
in theatrical style. Apart from sea sickness apprehension,
I am otherwise excited to be a participant in this historic
scientific pageant. My gloom of the past decade is being
replaced with a sense of enthusiasm and optimism. Rewolfyam
is definitely taking us to the new world of science, but
I remain somehow perplexed about how I actually got here.
I had first
heard rumours about the creation of the SSCs approximately
eighteen months ago. I am at a loss to explain how I was
selected. It appears to have been by invitation only. But
if this is correct, I really have no idea on why I am about
to board this ship. I am certainly not part of any favoured,
established network composed of people who tacitly support
each other’s research under the guise of “peer
review”. I have always cringed when someone says,
“that’s not the way it’s done”.
I’ve tended to be a bit of a loner, a bit of an outsider.
Strangely, this may have worked to my advantage. The official
notification informed me that I was selected based on my
“innovative work in the areas of chemical reactivity
and time” – an interesting reason to have selected
me.
Two years ago,
I had attracted a fair amount of attention when I published
a paper entitled “What is Time?” – an
unusual topic for a theoretical chemist. I had become interested
in reversible chemical processes and the role played by
time in such processes. Consider a block of ice: if we slightly
elevate the temperature an infinitesimal amount and several
of the water molecules on the ice surface start to “melt”
into liquid water, and then we drop the temperature again
such that these molecules return exactly to where they were
before in the solid ice state – have we reversed the
arrow of time? After years of valiant, but fruitless, theoretical
calculations trying to find an exception to the second law
of thermodynamics I had concluded that time may be defined
as “a perception of progression arising from a progression
of perceptions”. “What is Time?” had been
met with equal portions of praise and derision – but
it did attract attention and was regarded as unquestionably
different and thought provoking. I suspect that this study,
challenging the norms of the conventional way for doing
science, had attracted the attention of TPG, landing me
a much-cherished berth on Rewolfyam.
Gleefully, I
had accepted a position at the England-based SSC. In addition
to issues related to travel and logistics, TPG had officially
contacted me again, about eight weeks ago. They informed
me that they not only would be generously supporting my
existing research, but also were interested in encouraging
me to consider other research directions. Indeed, they had
individually contacted the 200 pioneer SSC scientists asking
each of us to put together a new research proposal in any
area of interest separate from our current work. We were
asked to make this research proposal “challenging
to the mind, valuable to the well-being of humanity, and
capable of inciting passion”.
I subsequently
struggled for more than a week, trying to determine a focus
around which to create a new research proposal. Then, an
unanticipated event made the direction obvious. A reporter
for Global Media Partners contacted me and asked, “since
you are one of the chosen SSC scientists, and since you
are interested in time and related esoterica, I have a ‘predicting
the future of science’ question for you: will there
ever be brain transplants?”
I immediately
responded with the following reply: “That’s
an easy question – no. If a brain were to be transferred
from one body to another, then that would be a body transplant
not a brain transplant. The role of the body is to support
the brain – brain is paramount. As humans we are defined
by our brains. Our brain is what makes us, us. Every person
who has ever trod upon the surface of this planet, every
villain, every hero – Einstein, Curie, Shakespeare,
Brontë, Ghandi, Mandela – all these people achieved
what they did, because of their brain. The human brain is
the most beautiful and complex structure in the universe.
It’s a monstrous, wondrous tangle – a cathedral
of complexity – and it’s the source of all human
happiness and suffering. I am always amused by reports claiming
the future of humanity depends upon our finding inhabitable
planets or moons. Regrettably, we know more about Neptune’s
moons than we do about the brain. If humanity is to contemplate
and conquer infinity and space-time, more importantly if
humankind is to survive, we must understand innerspace before
outerspace, the innerverse before the universe. And that
is why the study of brain is the greatest scientific challenge
confronting us. Will the human brain ever figure itself
out? I sincerely hope so! We have an innate interest, a
drive, to explore how our own brain works. Our brain is
why we humans flourish; it’s the key to our future;
it’s the organ of human destiny”. Both the interviewer
and I were clearly surprised by the definitely unanticipated
eloquence and passion of my answer.
And the moment
I finished this answer, I knew what I would be studying
– brain. But what about brain should I study? Initially,
I was drawn to fundamental considerations like the submolecular
basis of consciousness – currently a fashionable topic.
However, TPG are interested in projects “that are
valuable to the well-being of humanity”.
The next day
I did something which I do about once a year; I call them
“blank wall staring sessions” – I sit
alone in a room, turn off all distractions, stare at a blank
wall and think, sometimes for an entire day. However, after
only 30 minutes, the solution was apparent; I would study
Alzheimer’s dementia. Alzheimer’s robs people
of what they treasure most: memories, relationships, independence,
skills. It is truly devastating. Alzheimer’s destroys
recollections, erases personality, and makes routine tasks
impossible. The afflicted individual is unable to recognize
their spouse of fifty years and is incapable of identifying
their own children. Worldwide, dementia is the single greatest
cause of disability, debilitation, and despair. Alzheimer’s
is the worst disease currently confronting humanity.
I spent the
next ten days working 20 hours/day to complete and submit
a research proposal focussed on Alzheimer’s. The drug
decadamab has now been available for about eight years for
the treatment of Alzheimer’s. Although it partially
works and can often prevent Alzheimer’s from progressing,
decadamab is not widely available. Being a complex cocktail
composed of ten different human monoclonal antibodies, each
targeting a different shape of the amyloid and tau proteins
implicated in the cause of Alzheimer’s, decadamab
is prohibitively expensive. Decadamab is not available to
more than 80% of the world’s population. Perhaps more
than being a curative treatment for Alzheimer’s, decadamab
is better known as “the ‘cure’ that symbolizes
social injustice and racial inequality”. Alzheimer’s
is a global disease and demands a global solution –
a drug that is cheap, effective, and widely available –
not a treatment exclusively for rich people. Thus, as a
research proposal for TPG consideration, I devised a strategy
to design and develop a globally available drug. Rather
than using rigid antibodies, I will design a relatively
simple, easily manufactured, highly flexible single molecule
capable of changing its shape thereby binding to all the
varying shapes of amyloid and tau – I’m designing
a single hand to fit a flexible glove, not multiple keys
to fit multiple rigid locks.
Brain and dementia
are topics that inspire passion, putting a human face on
science. Science is a very human activity – with all
the strengths and weaknesses that implies. Science is more
than just the creation of knowledge through the sterile,
systematic study of the natural world; it is the process
whereby humans learn this knowledge and organize it to reveal
unforeseen connections and hidden truths. Our society is
dependent on science. Not surprisingly, science is an integral
part of modern culture. Science is always changing, always
progressing; that’s good, because scientific progress
is human progress. But thankfully there are some aspects
of science that don’t change – namely that science
is an uncompromising commitment to truth and to humanity’s
irrepressible urge to discover truth. We are going to need
such truths in our battles against the problems afflicting
humankind. Diseases like Alzheimer’s are scary –
terrifying for the people suffering from them, and their
families. Scientific research is that human activity that
lets us replace fear with curiosity and it is this curiosity
that leads to cures. And I want to find that globally available
cure for Alzheimer’s.
As I reflected
on these thoughts, I felt inspired, optimistic, and energized.
Every human being has moral worth, and I want to help some
of my fellow human beings have dignity in their final days
– who knows, I might make a difference (let's hope
the TPG agrees with me).
My self-absorbed
introspective reverie was abruptly interrupted by the ship’s
siren, notifying us to board for imminent departure.
Later, as the
ship left port, I stood on the deck initially looking towards
the buildings and man-made city skyscape; then, turning
my back to the city, I stared outwards at the vast organic,
oceanic expanse. When thinking about the mysteries of humankind
– challenges like time, or brain, or dementia –
sometimes one must contemplate not only the science but
also the sublime.
