Faculty Roundup
We asked faculty members to answer the same question and
collected their responses below.
(View
roundup continuation—Whitehead Fellows on
grand challenges in biomedical research.)
Looking back at the last 25 years, what surprises
you most about the direction your research has taken?
When I started, I was working in completely different
areas. I could never have foretold where that research
would take me. Our initial question was how does a cell
control its shape? That launched us on an odyssey of
trying to understand how cells organize their internal
contents to generate movement, measure the forces involved
and determine how groups of cells move in a coordinated
way. We’re finally starting to come back to cell
shape as it relates to cell movement, but the original
question has morphed and the technical approaches we’re
using now had not been developed 25 years ago.
I could never have predicted my professional path either.
I now direct several MIT initiatives including one program
with Singapore. I also direct a state-of-the-art bioimaging
center. I never expected that.
—Whitehead Member Paul Matsudaira (from an interview)
The trajectory of my research has been totally unplanned
and unpredictable, lurching from one topic to another
on the basis of occasional accidents, unanticipated
discoveries, and people's seemingly arbitrary tastes
as to what topics they'd like to work on.
—Whitehead Member Robert Weinberg
Everything. There’s not a single thing that we
are now doing that I would have guessed we’d be
doing. Twenty-five years ago, I was doing very basic
research, trying to find fundamental insights into basic
biology by working on gene expression in fruit flies.
My lab is still doing basic research, but now we’re
more focused on protein folding as it relates to human
diseases. I never thought I’d be probing cancer
or neurogenerative diseases or that I’d be working
with yeast, mice and arabidopsis.
—Whitehead Member Susan Lindquist (from an interview)
The hardest and most important part about science is
figuring out what not to study. That surprised me a
lot at the beginning because when you are training to
be a scientist, you come to a place where you say, ‘how
do those real scientists think of all those ideas?’
Eventually, you come to realize that you have many,
many, many more ideas than you can possibly implement
and that the hard thing is deciding what not to do.
A corollary of this is the importance of letting go.
You have so many paths you can follow simultaneously,
but you can’t follow them all. It’s actually
better for me to let go of a bunch so that I can obsess
on the few best ones.
Another thing that has surprised me is that some of
the questions that we work on feel like they’re
effectively infinite. In other words, the layers to
be peeled off extend as far as I can see.
The understanding of the X and Y chromosomes that I
learned in school was not only incomplete, it was almost
entirely wrong. The real story of the sex chromosomes
is infinitely more interesting and infinitely less predictable.
It’s also extraordinarily coherent and sensible
as it starts to take shape. But I know that there are
many, many layers beyond that which we presently perceive.
I feel like I’m running from room to room in this
infinite house.
This is not like a surprising moment. It’s an
unfolding surprise, which is much more delightful. It’s
the sort of the surprise that doesn’t end.
—Whitehead Director David C. Page (from an interview)
I haven’t been doing science that long, certainly
not as long as the senior people here, but it is fun
to look back and say—when I started working on
rapamycin, I never imagined I’d end up here. I
find it ironic that you have to write grants, explaining
what you want to do, predicting the outcome, and proposing
next steps. Biology never works that way in practice.
You always end up somewhere unexpected, which makes
the journey more fun. You’d be foolish to follow
your plan to a T and limit yourself to a specific sphere
rather than pursuing the most interesting questions
that arise from your results. Besides, you’d get
bored if you always followed your original plan and
predicted the outcome accurately.
I started working with rapamycin, very naively, because
I was an MD/PhD student and I thought I should be doing
something that had medical relevance. In the process
of figuring out how the drug works, we discovered genes
and a pathway with important roles in many different
organisms. I don’t take credit for having any
kind of deep insight initially. I just happened to pick
a molecule that turned out to be interesting.
—Whitehead Member David Sabatini (from an interview)
I don’t like the word surprising because it means
you didn’t expect it. In a way, nothing is completely
unexpected because you make your own work go places.
For me the better word is exciting, and it’s been
thrilling to see how the fish has helped us answer really
complex questions. I didn’t understand much about
fish when I started working on them. I’d worked
on frogs as a postdoc. Actually, I’d never seen
a zebrafish when I came to the Whitehead and I hired
postdocs who worked on fish before I had any in my lab.
So it’s been exciting to watch the work on zebrafish
unfold.
—Whitehead Member Hazel Sive (from an interview)
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