It’s been 60 years since James Watson and Francis Crick had their groundbreaking insight into the physical structure of DNA. Their model of the DNA molecule established its now-famous double-helix shape, and proposed, for the first time in history, the precise mechanism by which hereditary traits propagate down through the generations.
In Francis Crick’s own words, “…we think we have found the basic copying mechanism by which life comes from life.”
The story of how Watson and Crick edged out the fierce international competition to crack the mystery of DNA is a fascinating tale, full of near-misses; wrong turns; professional backbiting; dubious ethics; bureaucratic missteps; and dumb luck.
For a long time, it was thought that Crick’s personal correspondence from that whirlwind period was lost, but in 2010, a trove of letters turned up, which detail the passion and tensions among the small and tightly knit community of biologists at the University of Cambridge and King’s College London.
Now Michael Crick, Francis’s son, and an accomplished research scientist in his own right, has decided to auction a letter his father sent him at boarding school, dated 19 March, 1953. This letter, written by a father positively exploding with excitement, is thought to be the first written description of the way DNA encodes a sequence of proteins, and then replicates them.
Christie’s auction house estimates that the letter will fetch between one and two million dollars, but there are special factors that could push the price even higher.
As a gesture of appreciation to the Salk Institute in California, which gave Francis Crick a scientific home for twenty years after he was bounced from the University of Cambridge, Michael Crick has decided to share the bounty. The Salk Institute will receive half the proceeds from the sale, a fact which is likely to spur the institute’s biggest donors to a bidding war.
The letter itself is completely charming. It can be read in its entirety by going to the New York Times website and doing a search for “personal letter from Francis Crick.”
In it, Crick spells out his discovery — literally, as in, “des-oxy-ribose-nucleic-acid,” a form that was later simplified into the now familiar “deoxyribonucleic acid –” in terms a 12-year-old could understand, complete with hand-drawn illustrations for some of the more complicated bits.
Crick describes the discovery as “probably…most important,” “very exciting,” and “very beautiful,” but his main interest is that his son should read the letter carefully and fully understand it.
One might think that a four-page letter detailing the molecular underpinnings of heredity would be asking a lot of a 12-year-old, but the timing of the letter was perfect for quiet contemplation. Michael had come down with the flu, and was being kept in isolation, with nothing to do but stare at the walls and read letters from home.
The timing of the auction is perfect, too, carefully calibrated to make the most of the 60th anniversary publicity.
In the 60 years since Watson and Crick’s great discovery, the science of genetics has brought many changes to our lives — not all of them positive. The genetic modification of crops and farm animals has brought about tremendous gains in yields, but with an uncertain longterm cost. The mapping of the human genome, another great research milestone, hasn’t really lived up to its promise — at least, not yet. Gene therapy, once thought to be the answer to some of the great human health scourges, is still in its infancy, despite decades of experimentation and billions of research dollars.
So far, the greatest boon to mankind in the DNA department seems to be in the sphere of law enforcement.
The sad truth is that the practical application of great scientific discoveries has always lagged behind, sometimes by decades, sometimes even by centuries.
We’re lucky to live in a time when the lag seems to be shortening, thanks to the speed of modern communications, and a scientific community that’s ever more global and collegial. The “crowd-sourcing” of science has its perils, but also its promise, as thousands of people work in parallel to crack the toughest problems.
It’s an exciting time, to be sure, but one can’t help but feel that things are taking an awfully long time, perhaps too long to be of real benefit in our lifetimes.
In a way, sequencing the human genome has turned out to be like mapping the galaxy.
It’s one thing to identify a distant planet. But getting there?
That’s a problem of a different order.
This column was published in the Perry Co Times on 07 March 2013
For more information, please contact Mr. Olshan at writing@matthewolshan.com
