Science Corner: Of Barks & Bytes

Move over, Nintendo Switch 2–there’s a new video game sheriff in town. Sure, the graphics are pretty rudimentary, and the controls are idiosyncratic. But how can you not be charmed by seals playing a video game–for science! Check out the link for a brief video clip. The “game” models features of a swim at various depths, and the seals interact in a way that indicates they understand what direction of travel is implied by the simulation. The results provide scientists insights into what cues seals use to navigate.

In the present moment, one might wonder why we need to know how seals navigate and whether creating games for seals is a good use of money. The details of many scientific experiments probably seem absurd or obtuse from the outside, especially when described in an unflattering and humorous way, but it seems particularly easy to imagine getting a soundbite out of gaming seals. If SNL weren’t on summer hiatus, we might expect to hear a Weekend Update bit like this: “The scientists are going to try pinball next; they expect great results since the seals have their own flippers.” While the actual work is more serious–what makes it science is as much about the how of it all, the thorough controls to rule out other explanations and the repeated testing–I think it is still natural to ask what we are getting out of research like this.

For some, it might be enough to say that we are learning more about how the world works, or more details of God’s creation. There could also be indirect benefits; “impractical” science that is exciting or captures the imagination might inspire future scientific careers and contributions. Others might expect to see some kind of practical application. Sandow et al focus on the contributions to seal biology and understanding of vision. We aren’t seals, but any incremental steps towards a complete picture of how mammalian brains process visual information could conceivable lead to better assistive technology for the visually impaired, or a solution to how conscious experiences work. Technology-minded folks might find ways to apply this to navigation for underwater drones. How to factor any of that into return on investment calculations is beyond my skills, but at least there are possible benefits one could work with. (And if you are skeptical this work could uniquely contribute to any outcome of value, perhaps you will be happy to know the work was funded by the researchers’ German university.)

If you’ve stuck with my writing for any amount of time, I’ll assume you see some value in at least some aspects of science. But I won’t take that to mean everyone reading this unreservedly supports any and every research project done under the auspices of science; actually, having put it that way, I wouldn’t expect anyone to sign off on that blank check, myself included. We all have values and priorities we’d like to see reflected in how science is funded. For some, those might center more around specific topics or applications, while others might emphasize rigor and methodology rather than subject or outcome. Thus, on its face, it is hard to argue against using discernment to steward our financial resources well when it comes to science.

Nevertheless, when it comes to science, you don’t always get what you pay for. Some lines of inquiry fizzle, and some pay off far out of proportion to what was put in. That is challenging enough, but not exactly uncommon for investment. But with scientific research, you can’t always know what you are paying for or what the steps might be to arrive at the intended destination. The story of PCR is one example of an indirect route to innovation.

Polymerase chain reaction (PCR) has become a staple tool of molecular biology. It amplifies minuscule quantities of DNA so that they can be detected, sequenced, or otherwise analyzed. This is accomplished by repeated cycles of heating DNA to separate the two strands of the double helix, then cooling to a temperature suitable for duplication of the two complementary strands. That step relies on an enzyme called DNA polymerase. Unfortunately, the temperature needed to separate DNA strands also renders the DNA polymerase no longer functional, which meant it had to be added fresh each cycle.

Now, suppose you wanted to commission research for a DNA polymerase enzyme that is stable at high temperatures and so can go through many rounds of PCR without needing to be replaced. You might invest in biochemical and molecular biology studies to work out the kinetics of how DNA polymerase breaks down with increasing temperature and engineer modifications to slow or prevent the process. Or you might attempt a solution via directed evolution, exposing some fast growing microbe another to ever-increasing temperatures. Perhaps you fancy something even more sci-fi, funding nanotechnology projects to create an inorganic machine with the same functionality as DNA polymerase without the heat-sensitivity of proteins.

How we actually got the heat-stable DNA polymerase was by funding research to explore what might live in hot springs. Prior to the research in question, it was not expected that anything could live in such conditions. And the PCR process had not yet been conceived, so the hot springs work was not an expedition to find an enzyme to use in it. Instead, PCR took off the way it did because there was already a heat-stable DNA polymerase that had been discovered, and it was just a matter of understanding its potential. This pattern–a key component of an innovation sits around awhile before the context arises to make use of it–is a common one in human creativity and biological evolution, as Andreas Wagner documents in Life Finds a Way. And so one might wonder what future boons to biology might lurk in the genomes of bacteria recently found in NASA clean rooms and the Chinese space station.

Consequently, scientific progress is not always made to order, complicating attempts to be ruthlessly pragmatic in funding decisions. Of course, we don’t have the resources to fund everything that comes along, nor should we. But we likely do have to accept that part of the cost of doing science business is keeping a varied portfolio of irons in the fire. In light of how science works, that is better stewardship because it is more likely to be fruitful than just trying to directly buy exactly what we think we need right now.

Do you have a favorite example of scientific serendipity? Feel free to share in the commments.