So, the conference is over, but the work of a Nature Chemistry editor isn't. As you might have heard on the podcast, we're combining our conference visits with trips to nearby chemistry departments. So the day after we'd wrapped up DD11, I took the (surprisingly far) journey to Palo Alto on the other side of the San Francisco bay to visit the chemistry department at Stanford University.

This is my first set of lab visits, and my main impression so far is that it's like having a day of one-to-one tutorials with some of the best chemists in the world! I wonder how much you'd have to pay to get that kind of consultancy...?

Another impression is 'interdisciplinary': it's impossible (and essentially worthless) to pigeonhole any of the faculty I met into the traditional disciplines of chemistry. For instance, Chris Chang at Berkeley makes organic molecules so they can interact with inorganic species in the body and then give some sort of physical response!

And so on to the Scripps Research Institute in La Jolla (nr San Diego). There's a strong emphasis here on organic chemistry/biochemistry because Scripps is a biomedical research organisation. Again, more interdisciplinary work...apart from Phil Baran, who proudly does undiluted organic chemistry. He has a quote on his wall (and on his homepage) from his Scripps/ETH colleague Albert Eschenmoser, the key part of which is "neither biology nor chemistry would be served best by a development in which all organic chemists would simply become biological". I'd like to think there's space, and funding, for both approaches.

And finally...the Berkeley summer visitor housing I was staying in is right next to the university's Hearst Greek Theatre, and on my last night there, I was treated to a free concert by Alison Krauss and Robert Plant (formerly of Led Zeppelin).

From La Jolla, Neil

Neil Withers (Associate Editor, Nature Chemistry)

Posted by Neil Withers at 07:55 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

It’s time for another batch of research highlights.

First up, fresh back from his trip to Korea, Steve writes about a counterintuitive approach to creating stereocentres: by destroying them first!

Second, the story of greedy metal complexes. Neil tackles the synthesis of a series of heteromultimetallic complexes that contain up to 7 (that’s SEVEN!!) different metal atoms.

Lastly, I get to grips with a motor driven by a light-sensitive elastomeric belt.

Finally, news that wine-lovers across the world can be happy about (I’m off to Napa, California, in a couple of weeks so I’m happy). Eating meat is healthier with a glass of wine than without (maybe it’s not that simple but that’s how I’m going to understand it!). The original paper can be found here.

Gav

Gavin Armstrong (Associate Editor, Nature Chemistry)

Posted by Gavin Armstrong at 12:32 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

1. What made you want to be a chemist?

As a child I remember being given a chemistry set and spending many hours in the family greenhouse mixing different coloured liquids and causing things to heat and sometimes burn (much to the horror of my parents!). This fascination of exothermic reactions continued throughout school and then it was a hard decision between chemistry and physics. I ended up choosing chemistry as there were more girls on that course at the time.

2. If you weren't a chemist and could do any other job, what would it be - and why?

I would definitely like to be a travel writer as I love to visit new places and experience different cultures, so to get paid to do this would be fantastic. However, if I am thinking about my carbon footprint, and about seeing my family, then I would most probably open up a tea shop, so I could sell the cakes that I love to bake (and eat).

3. How can chemists best contribute to the world at large?

In addition to the current push to reduce pollution and improve the environment, I think chemists play a key role in improving health, quality of life and every day well being. I see this as not only making more effective medicinal treatments that are available to all, but also small things like improved material properties and personal care products.

4. Which historical figure would you most like to have dinner with - and why?

Well, the obvious one would be Dorothy Hodgkin as I think she managed to make such a contribution to science, inspire her students and raise her family at the same time and I would like to ask her how she did it! Although if I just had to choose one then it would be Leonardo da Vinci as he was such a great thinker and a pioneer in so many areas including science, anatomy and engineering. I think it would be so fascinating to find out what influenced and inspired him. I believe he was also the first to really take inspiration from nature to create highly functional materials & systems, which is something highly relevant to my research area today!

5. When was the last time you did an experiment in the lab - and what was it?

Ermm? I am ashamed to say that it was a while ago! I did some cryo-transmission electron microscopy with our collaborators in Helsinki, Finland about two years ago on a protein hydrogel. My student was with me though (and she also showed me what to do!) so I am not sure that counts. On the other hand I made some dough for a pizza last night, so you could say my last experiment was fermentation.

6. If exiled on a desert island, what one book and one CD would you take with you?

Unfortunately I don’t a great deal of spare time for reading at the moment between work & having two young children who believe they should only sleep when it gets dark (great for winter, not so good for long summer nights!)! If I had to choose one however, it would be the last Harry Potter book by J.K. Rowling. Choosing one CD is hard as I have quite eclectic tastes, but I should be true to my roots and choose the Scottish band Deacon Blue as they would instill passion for me to find a way back home!

Aline Miller is in the Manchester Interdisciplinary Biocentre at the University of Manchester, UK, and works on understanding how nature uses self-assembly to create functional nanomaterials and attempts to mimic and exploit this in synthetic systems.

Posted by Alison Stoddart at 05:05 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

This is one of the best chemistry videos, nay one of the best videos, full stop, I’ve ever seen.

The video accompanies a paper (abstract here, subscription needed for full paper) in Organic Letters about a photochromic molecule (one that can change between different forms when hit by light of some kind) that flips back and forth really quickly when UV light is shone on it.

The molecule changes from colourless to green, and that’s pretty much the best thing about it – so look at the video.

If you want to know more about the chemistry, which you might, then I can tell you that the molecules are hexaaryldiimidazole derivatives, and are a cyclic systems containing naphthalene units.

These kind of materials are used in spectacle lenses that change colour in bright lights. But really, just watch the video, that’s all you need to know.

[Hat tip: The Chem Blog]

Posted by Katharine Sanderson at 12:58 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

The new chemistry podcast from Nature is now online and can be found here.

In this special nanotechnology show, we discover how a team from MIT are getting nanoparticles into cells, do a spot of interstellar chemistry with an escaping sugar molecule, issue a health warning for those working with carbon nanotubes, and we take a look at the latest online tool helping chemists get hold of chemical information – for free.

Oh yeah... I nearly forgot... Neil and I make our podcasting debuts, calling into the studio to chat about the travel plans of the Nature Chemistry team now that conference season is upon us.

Enjoy!

Gav

Gavin Armstrong (Associate Editor, Nature Chemistry)

Posted by Gavin Armstrong at 12:29 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Greetings from Berkeley, where I'm attending Dalton Discussion 11: The Renaissance of Main Group Chemistry. RSC discussion meetings are quite different from normal conferences: the speakers have submitted full papers of their work, and a collection of 'pre-prints' of all the papers is given to each delegate to read beforehand. Talks are then limited to about 5 minutes, with around 15-20 mins of discussion to follow. The papers are then published in one issue (in this case of Dalton Transactions) afterwards.

So, what has been discussed? A lot of pretty impressive main group chemistry, including some incredibly sophisticated Al and Ga cluster chemistry by Hansgeorg Schnoeckel. The size of some of these clusters are approaching nanoparticles, only these are molecularly defined - all with the same number of metal atoms. Ian Manners talked about his adventures with inorganic polymers, with alternating P and N rather than boring old carbon.

That's actually a bit of a theme I'm finding: there's a whole host of other elements out there apart from carbon and it's their differences from, rather than their similarities to, carbon that makes the compounds unusual and interesting in so many ways.

There was an interesting and wide-ranging question posed by one of the chairs (Claire Carmalt): does chemistry (and main group chemistry in particular) need applications to justify funding, or should curiosity alone be enough? Most of the delegates thought curiosity was enough, and Chris Reed said that he often answers that question with 'Ask me in 20 years!' He made specific reference to some carboranes that he first made about 20 years ago, but is now using as extremely powerful yet gentle reagents. Someone from Los Alamos (whose name I didn't catch) made the comment that applications demand blue-sky curiosity.

And a final mention must go to yesterday's chair, Malcolm Chisholm, who reminded us of Mark Twain's words that 'the coldest winter he ever spent was a summer in San Francisco'.

Neil, in mercifully sunny Berkeley

Neil Withers (Associate Editor, Nature Chemistry)

Posted by Neil Withers at 04:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

In the proud tradition of exposing naive minds to new viewpoints and opportunities (like 'Take your daughter to work day', now apparently rebranded as 'Take our daughters and sons to work day') comes the more recent tradition of introducing dog-lovers and -haters alike to our furry friends (or, stated another way: today is 'Take your dog to work day').

While it would be interesting to ponder our increased desire to literally have our creature comforts with us at all times, what I am more amused by is wondering whether there would be any more impractical thing for a chemist to bring to work, as I have visions of energetic dogs running through labs, knocking things off counters with their crazy tails and licking up the resulting mess... Depending on the feline, I could see a 'Take your cat to work day' being equally disastrous, primarily because they could easily get up on the bench and not only push things onto the floor, but also bonk into TLC chambers or step on computer keyboards. The worst, though, might be 'Take your lemur to work day', as any creature that can climb up onto chemical shelves and throw bottles at you is not going to make friends.

Perhaps a better holiday would be 'Take your chemist to work day', where non-science people bring their science friends to 'normal' places, like offices and banks, and clothes stores. It would be a good chance for us science geeks to reacclimate to society at large, and perhaps we could spend some time telling them about all the exciting discoveries we're making? And anyway, a lot less messy than a lemur in the lab.

Catherine (associate editor, Nature Chemical Biology)

Posted by Catherine Goodman at 05:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBacks (0)

Apologies to all those who logged in on Friday to read the witty and humorous NChem research highlight update but (for various reasons) they will now be brought to you on Mondays - although the highlights themselves will still go live on Fridays.

Another change this week: I’ve been called off the bench to liven things up (like Cesc Fabregas last night in Euro 2008) and replace Neil who is currently gallivanting on the west coast of America.

We all love yeast in the NChem office, (bread, beer, marmite) so before he left, Neil wrote about a mass spec method that has been developed for measuring the metabolites of single yeast cells.

We also all love chocolate and Steve had the pleasure of writing about work on its structure that could hopefully lead to prolonging its shelf-life.

The final paper is about catalysis; more specifically its about the search for cheaper ethylene hydrogenation catalysts.

Some very small versions of a couple of our favourite games caught our eye this week, first a micro version of the highly addictive game tetris and second, a superhydrophobic desktop hockey game.

And finally, if you run out of reagents in the lab this week you could always raid the liquor cabinet. Last week saw some seriously ingenious chemists make diamond out of tequila.

Gav

Gavin Armstrong (Associate Editor, Nature Chemistry)

Posted by Gavin Armstrong at 09:41 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

1. What made you want to be a chemist?

I was good at science and maths, art and tennis but had to get a job, and science in the 60s was a much better bet that art - I also lost too often at tennis. The number of career avenues open to kids in those days was much less then. I also had very good chemistry and art teachers. Wilf Jary and Harry Heaney at (Bolton) School and Mr Higginson for art. Harry Heaney subsequently left school teaching and became a Professor of Chemistry at Loughborough University

2. If you weren’t a chemist and could do any other job, what would it be - and why?

Almost certainly some field of graphic art and design. I do a lot of this now. Also, probably animation and science documentary - see www.vega.org.uk and www.geoset.info. I did have an interview with the BBC in 1964 but I wanted to live abroad so I decided to do a postdoc in Canada. They suggested I see them if and when I came back.

3. How can chemists best contribute to the world at large?

Chemists have made some of the most humanitarian contributions to society. Liebig (of condenser fame) advised the City of London on the chemical treatment of sewage and before this the Thames was so bad you died if you fell in it - it was so polluted. Crawford Long and others developed anaesthetics - imagine having a leg amputated without anaesthetics - as happened routinely before the 19th century (Image browse on Google Rowlinson's drawings to get an idea).

Before 1942 when Florey, Heatley and Chain developed ways of making penicillin in large amounts (Fleming did not do any development on his discovery) blood poisoning routinely led to amputation and/or death. I am not sure but some estimates indicate that 70% of the world's food is produced using fertilisers made by the Haber-Bosch process. What would the modern world be without modern polymers or had we not learned how to grow large crystals of silicon to make the wafers for computer chips. Aspirin and platinum anti-cancer drugs have been great contributions too as has Taxol developed by my FSU colleague Bob Holton. There have been so many wonderful contributions one can be proud of being a chemist.

Unfortunately some chemists have made anti-humanitarian contributions. I was terribly disappointed when I learned that Louis Fieser - who had written the fantastic text book on Organic Chemistry (Fieser & Fieser) that I had bought when I was a kid at school and had read from cover to cover - had invented napalm. I try to encourage young students of science to distance themselves from this sort of application - I do not call it science - and focus on humanitarian contributions. Haber's reputation has also been tarnished by his development of nerve gas. I ask young people would they not rather be almost unknown heroes such as Norman Heatley who did all the key penicillin experiments and has saved millions of lives and limbs.

4. Which historical figure would you most like to have dinner with - and why?

I have relocated to the US and learned a lot about the birth of the US and have developed a great admiration for the so-called founding fathers. I would like to discuss their concerns and how they formulated the US Bill of Rights and the US Constitution - fantastic creations. I would like to have dinner with three of them Thomas Paine who lived for a while in my home town Lewes and wrote the Rights of Man; Benjamin Franklin a scientist and really the first American - who lived in London for nearly 20 years and was terribly treated just before the Revolution and Thomas Jefferson who recognised that there can be no democracy if Church and State are not separate. This latter point is of great importance today.

5. When was the last time you did an experiment in the lab - and what was it?

I must admit that I have so many commitments that unfortunately my co-workers tend to do most of the hands-on experimental work now though I occasionally have been involved with electron microscope observations.

I have not had a lab for the last 3 years as I had to retire from my position at Sussex. I have just got a beautiful lab in a great new building at Florida State University. The last time I did an experiment all by myself with no help from anyone else!!! was in 1990 when I at last had a sample of C₆₀ in my hands. In our C₆₀ discovery paper in 1985 we had conjectured that C₆₀ might be a superlubricant. After all, we thought(!!!) that as flat graphite is a lubricant - round graphite should be even better. When I took the sample and pressed it with a spatula on a glass slide it behaved like grit - disappointingly. I could not understand this until I learned that graphite is not a lubricant unless air and water intercalate between the layers - for instance it cannot be used at high altitude or on the space shuttle. I discovered that the text books are incorrect on this - the interlayer forces are not weak and graphene layers do not slide over each other in vacuo.

6. If exiled on a desert island, what one book and one CD would you take with you?

I think I would take an introduction to Quantum Electrodynamics (maybe Feynman's) as I would want to go the next step on from Quantum Mechanics which I vaguely know a bit about already - at least enough to analyse molecular spectra and fool some people into thinking I understand QM.

If I could also take a guitar I think I would take a James Taylor LP so I could try to improve my ability - which is very limited to play the guitar. I guess it would have to take his (Live) album or Greatest hits album as I would want Carolina in my Mind as well as Sweet Baby James which are on his first two albums.

Sir Harry Kroto is in the Department of Chemistry and Biochemistry at Florida State University, and works on the mechanisms of self-assembly at nanoscale dimensions, the species which exist in carbon vapour - there are hundreds and at least 5 families, the stabilisation of small fullerenes and nanotube applications.

Posted by Alison Stoddart at 05:09 AM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

It's amazing how discerning our eyes are. I was just looking at the cover of our July issue, and there are some chemicals on it; though they are just long white chains, it's clear to me that they aren't just regular chains... can you all spot the modification? If not, the related paper will give you a pretty good hint.

Some of the other goodies in this issue (from the strictly chemistry point of view) include the synthesis of neopeltolide and an analog of leucascandrolide A, which were then used in some biology experiments that you may or may not be interested in, and the characterization of some isotopically-labeled intermediates that tell us about what some protein or other is doing. There are some other things too, about stem cells and the discovery that humans can reduce nitrate, but they're awfully biological. Maybe you shouldn't even look at them. In fact, I've decided you're not allowed to look at them. So don't. I mean it - stop it right now.

You can look at the report on the recent ASBMB meeting, if only to get psyched up for whatever meetings you might be going to this summer. I'm looking forward to the ACS, if only because I don't have to pay a huge sum to get there on a plane. How are travel costs affecting you? Have you had to turn down any fun opportunities for lack of funds? Do you have any good suggestions for how to get around it (barring repeats of the recent drive from DC to New Orleans)?

Ok, back to work. These issues don't make themselves, you know...

Catherine (associate editor, Nature Chemical Biology)

Posted by Catherine Goodman at 02:59 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

Posted on behalf of Retread

A few chemists who were both literary and literal recently looked fairly silly on the pages of the New York Times and in the blogosphere. You can read all about it on Michelle's Francl's blog "Culture of Chemistry". See her post of 1 May '08 — "How to tell if you're really a chemist." To make a long story short, 3 chemically impossible organic molecules (5 bonds to carbon etc., etc...) spelled out the word SEX in a review of a book about (what else?) sex. The chemists missed the semantic forest while closely inspecting the chemical trees.

Is there anything inside the cell being read chemically two different ways? Yes there is, and it has implications for how we determine what in the genome is being worked on by natural selection and what is being left alone. If intron, exon, neutral selection and synonymous and nonsynonymous codons aren't old friends, have a look at the first comment which will give you all the background you need (which is quite a bit).

People attempt to measure the rate of natural selection acting on proteins using synonymous and nonsynonymous codons in the same protein in different organisms (say hemoglobin for example). Positive selection is measured as the rate of nonsynonymous nucleotide substitution (Ka) per nonsynonymous site, relative to the underlying 'neutral mutation rate', which is given by the rate of synonymous substitution per synonymous site (Ks). Usually Ka is much less than Ks (as most new mutations aren't helpful or are actually harmful — this is negative selection). Positive selection is implied by Ka/Ks greater than 1. However, strictly by chance, the ratio of nonsynonymous (Ka) to synonymous (Ks) amino acid substitutions is 2:1.

All very nice, but ESSs and ESEs are found in exons, and mutations of them will change alternate splicing (something a functioning cell has a great interest in). It's easy to see how changing one nucleotide in an ESS or an ESE could render it more or less effective, while leaving the amino acid sequence of the underlying protein unchanged. In short, the 'neutral mutation rate' may in fact not be neutral at all (if it is in an ESE or an ESS). Or possibly switching one amino acid for another has nothing whatever to with the protein and everything to do with controlling alternate splicing.

Now, chemists are adept at doing all sorts of different things with the same structure. Think what organic chemists can do with a carbonyl group. But whatever they do is over and done with. In protein-coding genes, the same sequence can mean two different things without being chemically changed at all.

We are far from understanding all the things DNA can do in a cell. Less than 2% of our 3.2 gigabases of DNA codes for exons. Calling the 98% of the genome not doing so 'junk' is a vestige of the protein-centric era of molecular biology, just as calling changing one synonymous codon for another neutral. Both assume that the only thing that DNA does is code for protein.

The expressive power of language lies in its ambiguity not its precision. DNA may be similar as we uncover the languages it speaks. My guess is that there are more to be found.

Posted by Stuart Cantrill at 10:38 AM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

1. What made you want to be a chemist?

The ability to make things that (may not) have existed before was the original motivation, then the idea that you could actually make something useful led me to continue in chemistry. Modern medicines rely a lot on chemistry, and having had the experience of a 2 hr old child dependent on some brilliant doctors - who in turn relied on excellent medicines - made me realise that there will always be a need for great science, and if one can contribute in even a small way then this is the right choice.

2. If you weren't a chemist and could do any other job, what would it be - and why?

Mountain guide - it would at least make me get fit... But it would also be a chance to spend work time doing something (else) that I very much enjoy. Few experiences in the world can compare to the Cuillin Ridge on Skye.

3. How can chemists best contribute to the world at large?

By continuing to strive for new discoveries and making new molecules and materials. People who have studied chemistry are also vital in helping others in the world to understand how the most fundamental processes in life operate, of how we can learn to use energy properly, and of the value of reason!

4. Which historical figure would you most like to have dinner with - and why?

The obvious ones, Berzelius, Darwin, Turing, Crick etc would be interesting for science of course, but actually my great grandfather would have been fascinating to have spent time with. He was a religious man and lived in Scotland in a time when there weren't a lot of material comforts - life was probably cold, dull and dark most of the time, but he provided circumstances that enabled his son to be a doctor, and to instil ideals that have lasted. It would be intriguing to know what values we share even if our beliefs and lifestyles are probably very different. Hmm, can't pretend life today doesn't involve cold, dark and dullness some of the time....

5. When was the last time you did an experiment in the lab - and what was it?

About 2 years ago I carried out Atom Transfer Radical Polymerisations (ATRP) - and got one decent polymer and one addition to the expanding catalogue of 'My Failed Reactions'. And yes, the students had to tell me where everything in the lab was, remind me about safety procedures and clear up the mess afterwards...

6. If exiled on a desert island, what one book and one CD would you take with you?

I am not going to pretend that I read much other than work, the last fiction I read was in 1993 and was a short book by Alice Walker. Of course it would be great to read another book for fun/interest, and one of Alice Walker's other books would be a good start. Next year, when there is more time....

The CD has to be Wish You Were Here, and not just for the title. The Floyd are probably overrepresented amongst the science fraternity but you just can't beat the sound of British angst and misery. Supergrass and Radiohead do some top English ethereal yearning/misery/whimsy fusion too.

Cameron Alexander is in the School of Pharmacy at Nottingham University, UK, and works on polymers for transporting drug compounds, proteins and genes for biomedical applications.

Posted by Alison Stoddart at 05:35 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

It's that time of the week again...

Steve's piece this week is about stereochemistry, and how it can be indirectly transferred from the periphery of a dendrimer to its catalytic core.

Gav highlights a molecular switch that's used to alter the Lewis acidity of a boron compound, by virtue of cross conjugation.

Cross conjugation also features strongly in the final highlight, because it seems that the simple rules for electron transfer don't work for cross-conjugated systems.

Although it's nice to see chemistry getting a prominent mention in this Daily Telegraph article, we're a little concerned about the phrase 'the chicken molecule'! Other things that we've found on the net this week include 'science facebook' and possibly the best online periodic table — what's your site of choice?

Neil

Neil Withers (Associate Editor, Nature Chemistry)

Posted by Neil Withers at 05:25 AM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

Best song of the 80s? Gold by Spandau Ballet. But it seems that the frilly-collared Spandau boys were far from original in their lyrical choice. According to a survey undertaken by Santiago Alvarez, in the department of Inorganic Chemistry at the University of Barcelona, the most popular elements referred to in music are, from the top; silver, gold, tin and oxygen.

I was amazed to hear that tin was so high in the elemental hit parade, until a quick survey of the Nature News team opened my eyes to its prevalence elsewhere than in the Wizard of Oz (incidentally the tin man’s song never mentions his eponymous metal).

How could I have forgotten the brilliant And the band played Waltzing Matilda, by Eric Bogle (and also performed by the ever-slurry Pogues), with the line “They gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gun”. And a quick google search shows that even soft-focussed Katie Melua mentions tin in her song What it says on the tin. I’m not sure that the suggestion that tin’s ranking was due to the Belgian cartoon character Tintin is right, though.

Other gems plucked from the minds of the Nature News team include: platinum wheels in Minnie The Moocher; lithium in Nirvana’s Lithium; silicon in the Boomtown Rats' I don't like Mondays; hydrogen and helium in They might be giants' Why does the sun shine? and almost every single element there is in the genius elements song by Tom Lehrer.

Iron has to be way up there too, what with all those rockers – "Iron man, by Ozzie and friends,” one Japan-based member of the team enthused when asked what element-containing song sprang to mind.

I’m very impressed that the New Journal of Chemistry published this comprehensive opinion piece, which goes much further than simply being a survey of a “musical cyberstore”, as suggested in the press release.

Alvarez goes to great lengths to discuss the history of scientific elements in music – from the original earth, fire, water and air, to Mendeleev and the periodic table. It’s well worth a look (although you might need a subscription) to learn about elements mentioned by some of the world’s greatest composers – Bach, Beethoven, Brahms, Handel to name a few. Here’s factoid from the paper: Edgard Varese wrote a piece dedicated to platinum, called Density 21.5 – it was a solo piece for the flute, and the performer Georges Barres was trying out his new platinum flute – platinum has a density of 21.5 grams per cubic centimeter.

If you can think of any other element containing songs (Pocket full of kryptonite doesn’t count) let us know. Here's a selection of songs to inspire you, written by school kids, set with the task of composing a song that mentions 80 elements. As expected, this is pretty difficult unless you just list the elements. Still, some imagination has gone into an elemental version of an Eminem song.

Of course, music is an element in its own right, according to the periodic table produced by the BBC's Look around you team; symbol Mu, atomic number 4, atomic weight, 4.

Posted by Katharine Sanderson at 05:10 AM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

Posted on behalf of Sugar Daddy

There seems to be this mindset among scientists, particularly chemists, that what we do is noble and somehow above the fray. Perhaps it comes from our training as graduate students. We live lives often completely removed from the world around us. We have friends who go home at 5 pm, cook dinner every night, watch TV programs, write books, do crossword puzzles, or other "normal" things. These people don't "take" the whole weekend off; it is naturally given to them, an unalienable right of living in the "real world". We are in a research lab and when we leave for brief periods, we don't leave our work behind. Now that's not necessarily a bad thing, but every now and then -- going to get your driver's license renewed, or "taking" a day off to go to some tourist site because a family member or friend is in town -- we cross paths with the real world around us.

Bubble, meet daylight.

Long hours and an physico-emotional connection to our work are probably two of the most hackneyed topics amongst graduate students in science. But why is it that way? The obvious answer is ambition, a state of mind that isn't unique to aspiring young scientists but can be applied to aspiring people in any walk of life -- lawyers, politicians, chefs, artists, sports players, etc. But there is something unique about science. Many of us have a sense of elitism, that what we do really is that important, so noble, and there's this sense of urgency that we can never put it down for fear of being overtaken. And that feeling, I think, contributes to a sense that we really shouldn't be doing much else at all with our time. Do you think that? I know some graduate students do, and I'm curious as to where this feeling comes from: ourselves, our advisors, who are typically the ones who have risen to the top (one particularly cynical comment to a previous post comes to mind), our work environment, or other influences entirely?

Posted by Catherine Goodman at 03:30 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

Hi everyone,

We thought it was time to show our faces in public and let you know where we're all heading now conference season is upon us.

First to escape the office is Steve, going to ICOS17 in Daejon, Korea, on 22-27 June. On the other side of the world, I'll be attending DD11 in Berkeley on 23-25 June.

Closer to home, Stu's going to a nano meeting in Reading on 26-27 June, before visiting some chemistry deparments in the Mid-West US in July. Steve's next out again, visiting ICOMC23 in Rennes, France, on 13-18 July. Then it's my turn again at ICCC38 in Jerusalem on 20-25 July.

Gav's not being left behind to deal with everything in the office — he's off to the ACS meeting in Philadelphia on 18-21 August. We're also planning some visits to chemistry departments, both in the UK and near the conference venues, spreading the Nature Chemistry word.

We hope to see lots of you on our travels, so feel free to stop us for a chat. We might even give you some free post-it notes...

Neil

Neil Withers (Associate Editor, Nature Chemistry)

Posted by Neil Withers at 11:13 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

For those people who like their balls to be leather/polyurethane rather than bucky, it can't have escaped your notice that the 2008 European Championships are underway in Switzerland and Austria. We have the obligatory fantasy football league in the office, with Steve and Gav doing considerably better than I am.

In a desperate attempt to tie football to chemistry for a blog post, I've noticed a link between certain key points in my education/career and major football matches/tournaments The link began in 1996, when my final school exam (AS-level Further Maths) was on the same day as England beating Holland 4-1 at Wembley in Euro 96. The World Cup in France in 1998 is forever linked to my 2nd–3rd year dissertation (Bond length–bond strength relationships in chemistry) — mornings in the library carrying bound volumes of pre-1940 JACS up from the basement to read articles by Linus Pauling were followed by afternoons and evenings watching football. I missed the first half of Manchester United's 1999 Champions League triumph while revising for my last 3rd year exam.

Euro 2000 is even more painfully etched on my memory: all in one day I discovered I had a viva exam to determine my final grade (9am), sat the exam (11ish), got the result (4ish) and watched England get knocked out by Romania (9ish). Not a fun 12 hours! I spent the 2002 World Cup as a somewhat dazed postgraduate, trying to fit watching the early games (the perils of a tournament in Japan and Korea...) before going to the lab. Finally, I had the interview/assessment day for the RSC graduate training scheme on the day of a friendly between England and Japan in the build-up to Euro 2004 and watched the final (cliched plucky underdogs Greece beating hosts Portugal) in Cambridge during a weekend trying to find somewhere to live before I started work.

Lots of my friends have similar stories (dashing through the deserted streets of Edinburgh after an exam during Brazil v Scotland in 1998, or walking out of their final exam into the bar upstairs for the opening match in 2002), so let's have yours!

Neil

Neil Withers (Associate Editor, Nature Chemistry)

Posted by Neil Withers at 05:31 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Time for our next trio of research highlights

It might not have escaped your notice that some people have made a new family of high-Tc superconductors...here's a piece about the 43 K samarium one. Of course, this field is moving terrifying quickly at the moment, so I'm sure my story's out of date by now! The physics pre-print server ArXiv for this area is about as up to date as you're going to get.

Proteins that have unfolded, or folded up the wrong way, are responsible for some pretty nasty diseases (Alzheimer's, CJD), so being able to re-fold them to more or less their original state would be quite handy - this one's about gold nanoparticles used to that effect.

All you synthetic organic chemistry junkies out there will no doubt be big fans of the Suzuki-Miyaura coupling already, but have you thought about trying it with simple aryl methyl ethers? These guys have...

And finally, here's a link that will make you very glad you're a chemist. The headline says it all: Zombie caterpillars controlled by voodoo wasps. There's even a movie for the iron-stomached among you.

Neil

Neil Withers (Associate Editor, Nature Chemistry)

Posted by Neil Withers at 05:43 AM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

1. What made you want to be a chemist?

Firstly, excellent teachers at school who were excited by their subject. I found GCSE (16+ Chemistry) boring, but one teacher promised me that it would get more exciting at the next level. She was right. Secondly, during my undergraduate project, I realised that the job was all problem solving, including a little plumbing, and from that moment I was hooked.

2. If you weren't a chemist and could do any other job, what would it be - and why?

I'd work for Jim Henson's Creature Workshop. They make Muppets. I had a summer job there as a student, which I loved. It's a fantastic creative mixture of scientists and artists, all solving interesting problems, in the form of making animatronic eyeballs and fur and using really new technology to make them other-worldly. I know it's old fashioned compared to all the current CGI technologies, but these tactile monsters still have something very special about them.

3. How can chemists best contribute to the world at large?

Pollution is our biggest immediate problem, in my opinion. I'm certain that we can help by making things such as drugs and building materials more efficiently, and by cleverer recycling of our huge quantities of wastes such as plastics and carbon dioxide. But we need to focus on fundamental chemistry to make these crucial advances, not all sit on the same topic that we're persuaded to by current funding schemes in the UK, or we'll stifle the creativity so vital for the breakthroughs that can solve these really big problems.

4. Which historical figure would you most like to have dinner with - and why?

Tank Guy. His name is not known, and he might still be alive, he can't be much older than me. He's the student who stood in front of the tank in Tiananmen Square in China at the height of the demonstrations against authoritarianism in China in 1989. I was impressed by his peaceful courage, and the way he melted away after the iconic photographs had been taken. In stark contrast with the celebrity that people in the west seek out, of course. I would like to know whether he thinks things are changing. Is he still a peaceful activist? Is he now a superb leader?

5. When was the last time you did an experiment in the lab - and what was it?

Just a few weeks ago: A friend in Durham gave me one of his interesting reagents after I visited to give a lecture. There was a slim chance that it would react with one of our uranium compounds, which would have made a really unusual new molecule. But the chance of the reaction working was so low, and my students were all really busy, so I did it myself. It didn't work, of course, but I have another idea for a different uranium compound that just might.

6. If exiled on a desert island, what one book and one CD would you take with you?

A friend of mine gave me a French-English dictionary of slang. I think a desert island would be the ideal place to try to improve my French in a non-evening class way. I'd take the Radiohead album OK Computer. It's beautifully haunting and complex, just what one needs to enjoy a bit of solitude; also I've never listened to it at a high enough volume.

Polly Arnold is in the School of Chemistry at the University of Edinburgh, UK, and works on the synthesis of compounds of the lanthanides and actinides that have unusual structures and reaction chemistry, with the aim of activating small molecules and finding new catalysts.

Posted by Alison Stoddart at 05:13 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Posted on behalf of Retread

In the early days of quantum mechanics Einstein and Bohr threw thought experiments (gedanken experiments) at each other like teenagers throwing firecrackers. None were thought possible at the time, although thanks to Bell and Aspect, quantum nonlocality and entanglement now have a solid experimental basis.

Two Chemiotics posts ago there appeared the following: “I doubt that most strings of amino acids have a dominant shape (e.g., biological meaning), and even if they did, they couldn't find it quickly enough (the Levinthal paradox again).”

How would you prove me wrong? The same way you'd prove a pair of dice was loaded. Just make (using solid-phase protein synthesis) a bunch of random strings of amino acids (say 41 amino acids long) and see how many have a dominant shape. If one crystallizes it does, if not, use NMR to look at them in solution. You can't make all of them, because the earth doesn't have enough mass to do so (see “How many proteins can we make?” a few posts back). That's why this is a gedanken experiment — it can't possibly be performed in toto.

Even so, the experiment is over (and I’m wrong) if even 1% of the proteins you make have a dominant shape.

However, choosing a random string of amino acids is far from trivial. Some amino acids appear more frequently than others depending on the protein. Proteins are definitely not a random collection of amino acids. Consider collagen. In its various forms (there are over 20, coded for by at least 30 distinct genes) collagen accounts for 25% of body protein. Statistically, each of the 20 amino acids should account for 5% of the protein, yet one amino acid (glycine) accounts for 30% and proline another 15%. Even knowing this, the statistical chance of producing 300 copies in a row of glycine–any amino acid–any amino acid by random distribution of the glycines are less than zilch. But one type of bovine collagen protein has >300 such copies in its 1042 amino acids.

One further example. If you were picking out a series of letters randomly hoping to form a word, you would not expect a series of 10 ‘a’s to show up. But we normally contain many such proteins, and for some reason too many copies of the repeated amino acid produce some of the neurological diseases I (ineffectually) battled as a physician. Normal people have 11 to 34 glutamines in a row in a huge (molecular mass 384 kiloDaltons — that’s over 3000 amino acids) protein known as huntingtin. In those unfortunate individuals with Huntington’s chorea, the number of repeats expands to over 40. One of Max Perutz’s last papers [Proc. Natl. Acad. Sci. USA 99, 5591–5595 (2002)] tried to figure out why this was so harmful.

On to the actual experiment. Suppose you had made 1,000,000 distinct random sequence proteins containing 41 amino acids and none of them had a dominant shape. This proves/disproves nothing. 10^6 is fewer than the possibilities inherent in a string of 5 amino acids, and you've only explored 10^6/(20^41) of the possibilities.

Would Karl Popper, philosopher of science, even allow the question of how commonly proteins have a dominant shape to be called scientific? Much of what I know about Popper comes from a fascinating book “Wittgenstein's Poker” and it isn't pleasant. Questions not resolvable by experiment fall outside Popper's canon of questions scientific. The gedanken experiment described can resolve the question one way, but not the other. In this respect it’s like the halting problem in computer science (there is no general rule to tell if a program will terminate).

Would Ludwig Wittgenstein, uberphilosopher, think the question philosophical? Probably not. His major work “Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus” concludes with “What we cannot speak of we must pass over in silence”. While he’s the uberphilosopher he’s also the antiscientist. It’s exactly what we don't know which leads to the juiciest speculation and most creative experiments in any field of science. That's what I loved about organic chemistry years ago (and now). It is nearly always possible to design a molecule from scratch to test an idea. There was no reason to make [7]paracyclophane, other than to get up close and personal with the ring current.

If the probability or improbability of our existence, to which the gedanken experiment speaks, isn’t a philosophical question, what is?

Posted by Stuart Cantrill at 10:13 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)