Interactions: Alba Diz-Muñoz

Alba Diz-Muñoz is a group leader at the European Molecular Biology Laboratory. The Diz-Muñoz group studies the crosstalk between mechanical properties and signalling processes that drive morphogenetic processes and fate specification in immune cells, embryonic stem cells and zebrafish embryos.

What did you train in? 

I did a PhD between developmental biology and biophysics and a postdoc between biophysics and bioengineering.

What are you working on now?

The lab now is a mix of it all, we try to understand the crosstalk between mechanical properties and signalling processes that drive morphogenesis and fate specification in immune cells, embryonic stem cells and zebrafish embryos.

What did you find most difficult when you started working in an area out of your comfort zone?

Understanding the jargon and communicating efficiently. Even though we were all speaking English sometimes I felt like conversations took place in a language I did not know.

Also, initially it was hard for me to identify the important questions in the field

And what did you find most helpful to familiarize yourself with new concepts and jargon?

Find a patient collaborator that is open to explaining the concepts at a level you can follow but is also ready to elaborate further once you can stand on your feet in the field.

Tell us about your experience the first time you went to a conference outside the field you trained in.

In the beginning I could only follow the introductory slides of every talk and then I would totally get lost on the actual research and its details. It was hard because I was not used to that. Only after years I was able to be critical with the presented work.

What are the main challenges and the main advantages of working in an interdisciplinary team?

The biggest challenge for me is to make sure everybody is on the same page and we are all able to understand the concepts each team member uses. The main advantage would be to have very different ways of thinking approach the same problem, often an interdisciplinary group will come up with a much more original solution!

What would be your advice to a PI leading an interdisciplinary group?

Pick the best individuals from each file and create an environment where people are not afraid to say “I don’t understand this” so that communication is as efficient as possible.

Do you find it particularly difficult to obtain funding? Or to get your research published?

So far this has not been a problem but give me some more years and I will have more datapoints.

Science without borders: A view from Tata Institute of Fundamental Research

A guest post by Alak Ray and Prajval Shastri.

After seventy years of the government of independent India nurturing scientific enterprise, even in the face of criticism of its investment in the fundamental sciences, it is a good moment to review the story of what many regard as the prized jewel of them all – the Tata Institute of Fundamental Research (TIFR), which was founded in 1945 by the physicist Homi Bhabha with the help of the Dorabji Tata Trust. We are treated to a visit of this famous institute and its history in the book Growing the Tree of Science, Homi Bhabha and the Tata Institute of Fundamental Research (Oxford Univ Press, New Delhi 2016) written by Indira Chowdhury. The reference to a growing tree in the title came from a Presidential Address by Bhabha in 1963 at the National Institute of Sciences of India: “A scientific institution… has to be grown with great care, like a tree.”

The history of the Institute is distilled from years of effort by Chowdhury to set up the institutional archives of TIFR. She explores the early efforts of scientific institution building around the time of India’s independence in 1947, when science was envisaged as being serviceable to the nation and a tool of nation building, but the need was also recognized to nurture institutional spaces without borders.

The campus of Tata Institute of Fundamental Research around the time of inauguration of its new buildings in January 1962 in south Bombay (now Mumbai). Photo courtesy of the Archives of Tata Institute of Fundamental Research.

Bhabha undertook this nurturing with enthusiasm, even when within a few years of founding the Institute multiple responsibilities left him little time for research. He concentrated on creating the conditions for conducting good research, and sought to entice stellar scientists to visit, and to recruit established scientists who could lead various programmes. A largely unknown initiative by Bhabha was his invitation in 1952 to Richard Feynman “to spend a couple of years or more here as a Professor of Theoretical Physics”, which Feynman declined.

A poignant story of Bhabha’s sense of science without borders concerns the Chinese mathematician S. S. Chern. During the intense civil war in China (1948), Bhabha wrote to Chern at the Mathematical Institute of the Academia Sinica at Nanking, which Chern himself had founded in 1946 after returning from Princeton. Bhabha wrote, “Although we know the patriotism which prompted you to prefer to work in your own country despite the many attractive offers from abroad, we realise that the present conditions must make work in your neighbourhood extremely difficult, if not impossible… I am therefore, writing to you to offer you the hospitality of this institute… to spend one year in the first instance as a Visiting Professor?” By this time Chern had already accepted J. R. Oppenheimer’s offer at the Institute of Advanced Study at Princeton, but was deeply grateful “for the concern of my foreign friends, which has never failed me”.

Bhabha smoothly and successfully recruited the mathematician K. Chandrasekhar in 1948 and the physicist M.G.K. Menon in 1955, though he failed with astrophysicist S. Chandrasekhar. In 1962, he offered George Sudarshan an Associate Professorship. Sudarshan had worked in TIFR’s emulsion group earlier (1952-1955) at the Old Yacht Club. Then, while on leave from TIFR at the University of Rochester, Sudarshan, with his thesis advisor Robert Marshak, worked out the universal V-A theory of weak interactions, for which they were nominated for the Nobel Prize multiple times. But the effort to repatriate Sudarshan failed because Bhabha tried putting Sudarshan on par with others who stayed on in the institute and did their research in India. Indeed, Chowdhury writes about Bhabha’s notion of “self-reliance which had instilled in him an unswerving faith in the scientists who had trained at his institute”. She elaborates, “It was this group that had been responsible for growing the roots of the tree of science and Bhabha the master gardener was unwilling to carry out any process of grafting a foreign branch which could potentially disturb the stability of the tree itself.” Chowdhury asks, “The institutional model itself had an unresolved paradox at its core – was it national or international?” She opines that the “ambiguity at the heart of Bhabha’s grand vision presented a troublesome dilemma – how to be international and national at the same time”.

The idea of using modern science for social transformation has been debated among the Indian elite since social reformer Raja Ram Mohan Roy’s time in the 1820s. The debate has touched on questions such as: What are the priorities for development? What types of scientific activities are most appropriate for a developing country like India? How can a scientific community be best established within a traditional society? How can scientists working in such a society keep their loyalty to the internationalism of science and at the same time deal with the more local and immediate needs of their own countries? [see “India’s Scientific Development”, William Blanpied, Pacific Affairs, vol 50, 91,1977)]. In the first two decades after India’s independence the international network that Bhabha built worked together with India’s nationalism and was happy to contribute to the development of institutions for a newly independent India. (The most notable scientist in this network was Nobel prize-winning experimentalist P. M. S. Blackett – see “Empire’s Setting Sun?”, Robert Anderson, Econ. Pol. Weekly, vol 36 (39), 3703, 2001). Chowdhury points out, “The sense of national self-realisation and an awareness of international cooperation went hand in hand.”

Bhabha also successfully drew a strong connection between fundamental science and technology development. Bhabha in his letter to the Sir Dorabji Tata Trust in 1944 wrote, “It is absolutely in the interest of India to have a vigorous school for research in fundamental physics, not only in the less advanced branches of physics, but also in the problems of immediate practical interest to industry. If much of the applied research done in India today is disappointing and of very inferior quality, it is due to the absence of sufficient numbers of outstanding pure research workers who could set the standards for good research.”

Growing the Tree of Science paints the picture of TIFR and its journey of undertaking science in a newly developing nation on a wide canvas. The story however is somewhat less richly textured for the period after Bhabha’s death. Chowdhury does discuss the beginnings of molecular biology, radio astronomy and other disciplines in TIFR with the recruitments of the geneticist Obaid Siddiqi in 1962 and the radio astronomer Govind Swarup in 1963. Her story is however mainly concentrated in the earlier phase of these groups. The hits and misses of the Bhabha era affected TIFR’s later development and the future it looks into. One wishes that a deeper appraisal of the era that followed could be put together in greater detail.

 

About the authors:

Alak Ray is a Raja Ramanna Fellow at the Homi Bhabha Centre for Science Education (TIFR). Prajval Shastri is a Professor at the Indian Institute of Astrophysics, Bangalore. As young physicists they both arrived at TIFR’s south Mumbai campus in 1981, fifteen years after the Bhabha era.

Interactions: Abigail Klopper

Abigail Klopper is a Senior Editor at Nature Physics. She previously worked at the Max Planck Institute for the Physics of Complex Systems in Dresden, Germany, where she pursued theoretical research in aspects of soft-matter and biological physics.

What made you want to be a physicist?

A love of maths and a distinct (if pretentious) feeling that it was the only truly relevant thing to learn about the Universe. My biggest regret as a nineteen year old was that I wasn’t allowed to double up physics with philosophy. I’d started as a double major in electronic engineering — an insurance policy of sorts — and evidently the faculty thought that that would have made a ridiculous triple.

If you weren’t a physicist, what would you like to be?

I come from a family of architects — physics is my rebellion — so I would likely be designing houses had I not gone down this road.

What would be your (physics) superpower?

Time dilation please. I could definitely use a way to squeeze some extra hours out of the day.

What Sci-Fi gadget / technology would you most like to have / see come true?

Anything that could get me back home to the beach in Australia in the time it takes to traverse London.

What is your non-scientifically accurate guilty pleasure?

I do have quite the penchant for vampires — the sassy backtalking type found in Buffy and True Blood over the sappy Twilight variety. I’m fairly sure we’re yet to find evidence of fanged humanoids in our midst.

What would your dream conference be like?

The Physics of Living Matter symposium run by the Universities of Cambridge and Marseille is pretty much my ideal conference. It’s two full days in a room with physicists and biologists who are all really keen to convey their research in a way that meets everyone in the middle. The breadth of topics covered is impressive, and the quality of the students’ presentations is always rather humbling.

Heuristics for better figures

Post by Jesse L. Silverberg

Here’s the tldr: (1) Images = Information, (2) Colour communicates meaning, (3) Understand the limits of visual communication, (4) Move through colour space deliberately to reduce complexity, (5) Combine #3 and #4 to pick your colours wisely.

Long before I thought about studying physics, I saw myself on the path to becoming a graphic designer.  I enrolled in a graphic design program at a nearby college, had a well-stocked supply of brushes, pencils, and Bristol board, and even generated a portfolio of nearly 100 compositions before taking my first course.  I ultimately left design school when I recognized the differences between “art for the sake of art” vs “art for the sake of selling a product,” but that’s a story for another day.  In my year studying graphic design, I practiced and learned a set of skills that became extremely useful during my PhD.  What I eventually came to discover was that when I was designing scientific figures, I felt confident that I was making rational design choices, such as visually distinct colours to represent categorical variables and thought-out colour gradients to represent continuous quantities.  This blog post is about those design skills and is intended for my fellow researchers who never had the opportunity to learn the language of design.  My hope is that I can serve as a useful translator to convey some of the practical ideas that designers routinely employ with respect to visual communication, and explain how they can be used in service of articulating a clearer scientific message. Continue reading →

Interactions: Ron Milo and the BioNumbers database

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“BPAE cells” by Joseph Elsbernd is licensed under CC BY 2.0

What is the surface area of a mouse intestinal tract? What is the persistence length of DNA? What is the diameter of a typical human red blood cell?

These are the sorts of questions that arise when building physics models of biological systems, and finding answers can often involve extensive digging through the literature. One resource, that hopes to “facilitate quantitative analysis and reasoning” in biology, is the BioNumbers database, a website that catalogues numerical values of biological quantities.  The database can be browsed by category or searched by keyword, and provides a citation of the original source of every number. It’s been going since 2007 and now covers categories from algae to zinc.

(From BioNumbers: mouse intestinal tracts have a surface area of 1.41 m2; DNA has a persistence length of around 50 nm; human red blood cells have a diameter of 7.7 µm.)

We asked Ron Milo, a systems biologist and developer of BioNumbers, about the project.

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Courtesy Ron Milo

How did the idea for BioNumbers come about?

I was a fellow at Harvard medical school and was trying to do some back of the envelope calculation with my bay mates Mike Springer and Paul Jorgensen and we found none of the books and internet resources could give us what we needed so we decided to start a database ourselves.

How has the project grown and developed? Do you have any goals for the future?

It took shape rapidly in the first year and has been expanding ever since. The book that came out recently with Rob Phillips helps distill key insights from the available numbers and is available freely online. In the coming year I plan to revamp the interface to make it easier to use with mobile devices, make it more intuitive etc.

In your book Cell Biology by the Numbers you accompany tables of numbers with vignettes about the topics covered – do you have a favourite you’d like to share?

I love the one where we talk about how many H+ ions are in a cell – only about 100 in a bacterial cell! I also like the one about the turnover rate of different tissues in the body and how that was inferred with the help of signals from nuclear tests.

Do you have any advice for physicists who are interested in working on biology problems?

Don’t be worried about all the jargon, it is a field where you can easily penetrate things by reading textbooks that are almost page-turners and consulting wikipedia when needed. There are low hanging fruits ready to be picked, but you have to be willing to solve the problems by making your own makeshift  biological model and not always turning things into the beloved Ising model.

Interactions: Conversation with Adam Becker

Post by Zoe Budrikis.

Quantum mechanics is a standard part of every undergraduate physics degree, but often it’s presented as “Here’s a mathematical formalism that works, end of story.” What is Real? by Adam Becker, released last week, tackles the history of how physicists have thought about the interpretation of quantum mechanics, starting with the Copenhagen interpretation but continuing through various dissenting views, such as Bohm’s pilot wave theory and Everett’s many worlds interpretation. His focus is as much on the politics and personalities that have shaped how we think about the field as it is on science and philosophy, which makes for an enlightening and entertaining read — I got through much of the book on a snowy Saturday at home, having difficulty putting it down.

We asked Adam some questions about the book and the stories behind it.

Becker_What Is Real_courtesy Basic Books

{credit}Basic Books{/credit}

You mention on your website you’ve been wanting to write this book for years. What kicked off your interest in the foundations of quantum mechanics?

There wasn’t any single event—it was a gradual process. I read pop science books that seemed very clear when it came to relativity, but didn’t do a very good job with quantum physics. I figured I’d understand what they were talking about once I actually took a quantum mechanics class, but that just made things worse, not better. After I asked one too many questions about quantum measurement, one professor told me (in a tone of utter disdain) that if I was interested in that kind of question, I should go off to the Philosophy Department. When I did, I started getting some very different (and much more clear) answers than I was getting from most of the physicists. And not everyone in the Physics Department was unwilling to entertain questions about quantum physics: in particular, I was lucky enough to take a course with David Mermin as an undergraduate. After spending time talking with Mermin and with philosophers of science, I was hooked: I had to understand what was going on in the quantum world. Of course, I still don’t!

Are there any anecdotes from the history of quantum foundations that didn’t make it into the final book that you’d like to share with us?

There are so many great stories that made it into the book (Bell’s silence on the subject of Bertlmann’s socks might be my favorite), and there are also many good ones that didn’t. For example, von Neumann threw serious shade at Dirac’s textbook when he was writing his own, which was amazing to see. I don’t know about my favorite story, but here’s a fun one that I think is very revealing about the personalities involved: Abner Shimony (a prominent philosopher of physics) and Louis de Broglie (who needs no introduction). Shimony was one of the leaders of the four-person team that proposed the first experimental test of Bell’s theorem, known as CHSH after their initials. Shimony sent a preprint of the CHSH paper to Bell, of course, but he also sent a preprint to de Broglie, along with a letter. “I felt that courtesy demanded a letter in French, and I drafted one, but had a French professor friend correct the grammar and locutions,” said Shimony. “De Broglie replied, with the utmost courtesy, in handwriting that resembled the Declaration of Independence.” So Shimony sent back another letter in French, and had a French professor correct his grammar again. After another round or so of this, a mutual friend told Shimony that de Broglie was deeply impressed by Shimony’s letters. De Broglie said that “here is one American who knows how to write a proper letter.” But when their mutual friend offered to introduce Shimony to de Broglie, Shimony balked. “Of course I refused,” Shimony said, “because I obviously could not sustain the game!”

I understand if you’re reticent to answer this, because in your book you’ve obviously put a lot of work into presenting the various interpretations of quantum mechanics equitably, but I’d love to know: which alternative to Copenhagen do you actually prefer? Or are you still waiting for a satisfying interpretation?

Adam Becker_credit John Castillo

{credit}John Castillo{/credit}

The short answer is that I’m still waiting. The longer answer is that I go back and forth on liking all of the available options and liking none of them. (I don’t include Copenhagen in this, because it’s not a real interpretation.) Each interpretation has its appeal, and its problems. All of the interpretations are strange, of course—they’re guaranteed to be strange as a result of Bell’s theorem, the Bell-Kochen-Specker theorem, and other results. So strangeness isn’t a problem. But there’s the question of logical coherence, of presenting an internally consistent picture of the world, even if it’s a deeply alien one. And there’s also the question of reproducing not just the successes of quantum mechanics, but also those of quantum field theory and the Standard Model. The different interpretations attempt to meet these challenges in different ways. Many of them look promising, but right now I don’t think any of them can lay claim to an unequivocal solution to all of these problems. For example, pilot-wave theory is definitely coherent (even its opponents will generally concede that), but it’s unclear whether there’s a way to get QFT out of it. The many-worlds interpretation can definitely account for QFT, but there’s serious debate over its internal coherence. So for now, I’m on the fence, but I’m happy here. It’s certainly better to have serious debate over interesting options, even if I’m not convinced by any one of them, than it is to have debate stifled with a pseudo-solution like the Copenhagen interpretation.

Continue reading →