Q&A with Holden Thorp: Finding Better Ways to Communicate Science
This month, Leaps.org had a chance to speak with Holden Thorp, Editor-in-Chief of the Science family of journals. We talked about the best ways to communicate science to the public, mistakes by public health officials during the pandemic, the lab leak theory, and bipartisanship for funding science research.
Before becoming editor of the Science journals, Thorp spent six years as provost of Washington University in St. Louis, where he is Rita Levi-Montalcini Distinguished University Professor and holds appointments in both chemistry and medicine. He joined Washington University after spending three decades at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, where he served as the UNC's 10th chancellor from 2008 through 2013.
A North Carolina native, Thorp earned a doctorate in chemistry in 1989 at the California Institute of Technology and completed postdoctoral work at Yale University. He is a fellow of the National Academy of Inventors and the American Association for the Advancement of Science.
Read his full bio here.
This conversation was lightly edited by Leaps.org for style and format.
Matt Fuchs: You're a musician. It seems like many scientists are also musicians. Is there a link between the scientist brain and the musician brain?
Holden Thorp: I think [the overlap is] relatively common. I'm still a gigging bass player. I play in the pits for lots of college musicals. I think that it takes a certain discipline and requires you to learn a lot of rules about how music works, and then you try to be creative within that. That's similar to scientific research. So it makes sense. Music is something I've been able to sustain my whole life. I wouldn't be the same person if I let it go. When you're playing, especially for a musical, where the music is challenging, you can't let your mind wander. It’s like meditation.
MF: I bet it helps to do something totally different from your editing responsibilities. Maybe lets the subconscious take care of tough problems at work.
HT: Right.
MF: There's probably never been a greater need for clear and persuasive science communicators. Do we need more cross specialty training? For example, journalism schools prioritizing science training, and science programs that require more time learning how to communicate effectively?
HT: I think we need both. One of the challenges we've had with COVID has been, especially at the beginning, a lot of reporters who didn’t normally cover scientific topics got put on COVID—and ended up creating things that had to be cleaned up later. This isn't the last science-oriented crisis we're going to have. We've already got climate change, and we'll have another health crisis for sure. So it’d be good for journalism to be a little better prepared next time.
"Scientists are human beings who have ego and bravado and every other human weakness."
But on the other side, maybe it's even more important that scientists learn how to communicate and how likely it is that their findings will be politicized, twisted and miscommunicated. Because one thing that surprised me is how shocked a lot of scientists have been. Every scientific issue that reaches into public policy becomes politicized: climate change, evolution, stem cells.
Once one side decided to be cautious about the pandemic, you could be certain the other side was going to decide not to do that. That's not the fault of science. That’s just life in a political world. That, I think, caught people off guard. They weren't prepared to shape and process their messages in a way that accounted for that—and for the way that social media has intensified all of this.
MF: Early in the pandemic, there was a lack of clarity about public health recommendations, as you’d expect with a virus we hadn’t seen before. Should public officials and scientists have more humility in similar situations in the future? Public officials need to be authoritative for their guidance to be followed, so how do they lead a crisis response while displaying humility about what we don't know?
HS: I think scientists are people who like to have the answer. It's very tempting and common for scientists to kind of oversell what we know right now, while not doing as much as we should to remind people that science is a self-correcting process. And when we fail to do that – after we’ve collected more data and need to change how we're interpreting it – the people who want to undermine us have a perfect weapon to use against us. It's challenging. But I agree that scientists are human beings who have ego and bravado and every other human weakness.
For example, we wanted to tell everybody that we thought the vaccines would provide sterilizing immunity against infection. Well, we don't have too many other respiratory viruses where that's the case. And so it was more likely that we were going to have what we ended up with, which is that the vaccines were excellent in preventing severe disease and death. It would have been great if they provided sterilizing immunity and abruptly ended the pandemic a year ago. But it was overly optimistic to think that was going to be the case in retrospect.
MF: Both in terms of how science is communicated and received by the public, do we need to reform institutions or start new ones to instill the truth-seeking values that are so important to appreciating science?
HS: There are a whole bunch of different factors. I think the biggest one is that the social media algorithms reward their owners financially when they figure out how to keep people in their silos. Users are more likely to click on things that they agree with—and that promote conflict with people that they disagree with. That has caused an acceleration in hostilities that attend some of these disagreements.
But I think the other problem is that we haven’t found a way to explain things to people when it’s not a crisis. So, for example, a strong indicator of whether someone who might otherwise be vaccine hesitant decided to get their vaccine is if they understood how vaccines worked before the pandemic started. Because if you're trying to tell somebody that they're wrong if they don't get a vaccine, at the same time you're trying to explain how it works, that's a lot of explaining to do in a short period of time.
Lack of open-mindedness is a problem, but another issue is that we need more understanding of these issues baked into the culture already. That's partly due the fact that there hasn't been more reform in K through 12 and college teaching. And that scientists are very comfortable talking to each other, and not very comfortable talking to people who don't know all of our jargon and have to be persuaded to spend time listening to and thinking about what we're trying to tell them.
"We're almost to the point where clinging to the lab leak idea is close to being a fringe idea that almost doesn't need to be included in stories."
MF: You mentioned silos. There have been some interesting attempts in recent years to do “both sides journalism,” where websites like AllSides put different views on high profile issues side-by-side. Some people believe that's how the news should be reported. Should we let people see and decide for themselves which side is the most convincing?
HS: It depends if we're talking about science. On scientific issues, when they start, there's legitimate disagreement about among scientists. But eventually, things go back and forth, and people compete with each other and work their way to the answer. At some point, we reach more of a consensus.
For example, on climate change, I think it's gotten to the point now where it's irresponsible, if you're writing a story about climate change, to run a quote from somebody somewhere who's still—probably because of their political views—clinging to the idea that anthropogenic global warming is somehow not damaging the planet.
On things that aren't decided yet, that makes sense to run both. It's more a question of judgment of the journalists. I don't think the solution to it is put stark versions of each side, side-by-side and let people choose. The whole point of journalism is to inform people. If there's a consensus on something, that's part of what you're supposed to be informing them about.
MF: What about reporting on perspectives about the lab leak theory at various times during the pandemic?
HS: We’re the outlet that ran the letter that really restarted the whole debate. A bunch of well-known scientists said we should consider the lab leak theory more carefully. And in the aftermath of that, a bunch of those scientists who signed that letter concluded that the lab leak was very, very unlikely. Interestingly, publishing that letter actually drove us to more of a consensus. I would say now, we're almost to the point where clinging to the lab leak idea is close to being a fringe idea that almost doesn't need to be included in stories. But I would say there's been a lot of evolution on that over the last year since we ran that letter.
MF: Let's talk about bipartisanship in Congress. Research funding for the National Institutes of Health was championed for years by influential Republicans who supported science to advance health breakthroughs. Is that changing? Maybe especially with Sen. Roy Blunt retiring? Has bipartisanship on science funding been eroded by political battles during COVID?
HS: I'm optimistic that that won't be the case. Republican Congresses have usually been good for science funding. And that's because (former Sen.) Arlen Specter and Roy Blunt are two of the political figures who have pushed for science funding over the last couple decades. With Blunt retiring, we don't know who's going to step in for him. That's an interesting question. I hope there will be Republican champions for science funding.
MF: Is there too much conservatism baked into how we research new therapies and bring them to people who are sick, bench-to-bedside? I'm thinking of the criticisms that NIH or the FDA are overly bureaucratic. Are you hopeful about ARPA-H, President Biden’s proposed new agency for health innovation?
HS: I think the challenge hasn't been cracked by the federal government. Maybe DARPA has done this outside of health science, but within health science, the federal government has had limited success at funding things that can be applied quickly, while having overwhelming success at funding basic research that eventually becomes important in applications. Can they do it the other way around? They’ll need people running ARPA-H who are application first. It’s ambitious. The way it was done in Operation Warp Speed is all the money was just given to the companies. If the hypothesis on ARPA-H is for the federal government to actually do what Moderna and BioNTech did for the vaccine, themselves, that's a radical idea. It's going to require thinking very differently than the way they think about dispersing grants for basic research.
MF: You’ve written a number of bold op-eds as editor of the Science journals. Are there any op-eds you're especially proud of as voicing a view that was important but not necessarily popular?
HS: I was one of the first people to come out hard against President Trump['s handling of] the pandemic. Lots of my brothers and sisters came along afterwards. To the extent that I was able to catalyze that, I'm proud of doing it. In the last few weeks, I published a paper objecting to the splitting of the OSTP director from the science advisor and, especially, not awarding the top part of the job to Alondra Nelson, who is a distinguished scientist at black female. And instead, giving part of it to Francis Collins. He’s certainly the most important science policy figure of my lifetime, but somebody who’s been doing this now for decades. I just think we have to push as hard as we can to get a cadre of young people leading us in Washington who represent the future of the country. I think the Biden administration leaned on a lot of figures from the past. I’m pushing them hard to try to stop it.
MF: I want to circle back to the erosion of the public’s trust in experts. Most experts are specialists, and specialists operate in silos that don’t capture the complexity of scientific knowledge. Are some pushbacks to experts and concerns about the perils of specialization valid?
HS: You're on the right track there. What we need is more respect for the generalist. We can't help the fact that you have to be very specialized to do a lot of stuff. But what we need is more partnership between specialists and people who can cross fields, especially into communication and social sciences. That handoff is just not really there right now. It's hard to get a hardcore scientist to respect people who are interested in science, education and science communication, and to treat them as equals. The last two years showed that they're at least as important, if not more so.
MF: I’m grateful that you’re leading the way in this area, Holden. Thank you for sharing your thoughts and your work.
A company uses AI to fight muscle loss and unhealthy aging
There’s a growing need to slow down the aging process. The world’s population is getting older and, according to one estimate, 80 million Americans will be 65 or older by 2040. As we age, the risk of many chronic diseases goes up, from cancer to heart disease to Alzheimer’s.
BioAge Labs, a company based in California, is using genetic data to help people stay healthy for longer. CEO Kristen Fortney was inspired by the genetics of people who live long lives and resist many age-related diseases. In 2015, she started BioAge to study them and develop drug therapies based on the company’s learnings.
The team works with special biobanks that have been collecting blood samples and health data from individuals for up to 45 years. Using artificial intelligence, BioAge is able to find the distinctive molecular features that distinguish those who have healthy longevity from those who don’t.
In December 2022, BioAge published findings on a drug that worked to prevent muscular atrophy, or the loss of muscle strength and mass, in older people. Much of the research on aging has been in worms and mice, but BioAge is focused on human data, Fortney says. “This boosts our chances of developing drugs that will be safe and effective in human patients.”
How it works
With assistance from AI, BioAge measures more than 100,000 molecules in each blood sample, looking at proteins, RNA and metabolites, or small molecules that are produced through chemical processes. The company uses many techniques to identify these molecules, some of which convert the molecules into charged atoms and then separating them according to their weight and charge. The resulting data is very complex, with many thousands of data points from patients being followed over the decades.
BioAge validates its targets by examining whether a pathway going awry is actually linked to the development of diseases, based on the company’s analysis of biobank health records and blood samples. The team uses AI and machine learning to identify these pathways, and the key proteins in the unhealthy pathways become their main drug targets. “The approach taken by BioAge is an excellent example of how we can harness the power of big data and advances in AI technology to identify new drugs and therapeutic targets,” says Lorna Harries, a professor of molecular genetics at the University of Exeter Medical School.
Martin Borch Jensen is the founder of Gordian Biotechnology, a company focused on using gene therapy to treat aging. He says BioAge’s use of AI allows them to speed up the process of finding promising drug candidates. However, it remains a challenge to separate pathologies from aspects of the natural aging process that aren’t necessarily bad. “Some of the changes are likely protective responses to things going wrong,” Jensen says. “Their data doesn’t…distinguish that so they’ll need to validate and be clever.”
Developing a drug for muscle loss
BioAge decided to focus on muscular atrophy because it affects many elderly people, making it difficult to perform everyday activities and increasing the risk of falls. Using the biobank samples, the team modeled different pathways that looked like they could improve muscle health. They found that people who had faster walking speeds, better grip strength and lived longer had higher levels of a protein called apelin.
Apelin is a peptide, or a small protein, that circulates in the blood. It is involved in the process by which exercise increases and preserves muscle mass. BioAge wondered if they could prevent muscular atrophy by increasing the amount of signaling in the apelin pathway. Instead of the long process of designing a drug, they decided to repurpose an existing drug made by another biotech company. This company, called Amgen, had explored the drug as a way to treat heart failure. It didn’t end up working for that purpose, but BioAge took note that the drug did seem to activate the apelin pathway.
BioAge tested its new, repurposed drug, BGE-105, and, in a phase 1 clinical trial, it protected subjects from getting muscular atrophy compared to a placebo group that didn’t receive the drug. Healthy volunteers over age 65 received infusions of the drug during 10 days spent in bed, as if they were on bed rest while recovering from an illness or injury; the elderly are especially vulnerable to muscle loss in this situation. The 11 people taking BGE-105 showed a 100 percent improvement in thigh circumference compared to 10 people taking the placebo. Ultrasound observations also revealed that the group taking the durg had enhanced muscle quality and a 73 percent increase in muscle thickness. One volunteer taking BGE-105 did have muscle loss compared to the the placebo group.
Heather Whitson, the director of the Duke University Centre for the study of aging and human development, says that, overall, the results are encouraging. “The clinical findings so far support the premise that AI can help us sort through enormous amounts of data and identify the most promising points for beneficial interventions.”
More studies are needed to find out which patients benefit the most and whether there are side effects. “I think further studies will answer more questions,” Whitson says, noting that BGE-105 was designed to enhance only one aspect of physiology associated with exercise, muscle strength. But exercise itself has many other benefits on mood, sleep, bones and glucose metabolism. “We don’t know whether BGE-105 will impact these other outcomes,” she says.
The future
BioAge is planning phase 2 trials for muscular atrophy in patients with obesity and those who have been hospitalized in an intensive care unit. Using the data from biobanks, they’ve also developed another drug, BGE-100, to treat chronic inflammation in the brain, a condition that can worsen with age and contributes to neurodegenerative diseases. The team is currently testing the drug in animals to assess its effects and find the right dose.
BioAge envisions that its drugs will have broader implications for health than treating any one specific disease. “Ultimately, we hope to pioneer a paradigm shift in healthcare, from treatment to prevention, by targeting the root causes of aging itself,” Fortney says. “We foresee a future where healthy longevity is within reach for all.”
How old fishing nets turn into chairs, car mats and Prada bags
Discarded nylon fishing nets in the oceans are among the most harmful forms of plastic pollution. Every year, about 640,000 tons of fishing gear are left in our oceans and other water bodies to turn into death traps for marine life. London-based non-profit World Animal Protection estimates that entanglement in this “ghost gear” kills at least 136,000 seals, sea lions and large whales every year. Experts are challenged to estimate how many birds, turtles, fish and other species meet the same fate because the numbers are so high.
Since 2009, Giulio Bonazzi, the son of a small textile producer in northern Italy, has been working on a solution: an efficient recycling process for nylon. As CEO and chairman of a company called Aquafil, Bonazzi is turning the fibers from fishing nets – and old carpets – into new threads for car mats, Adidas bikinis, environmentally friendly carpets and Prada bags.
For Bonazzi, shifting to recycled nylon was a question of survival for the family business. His parents founded a textile company in 1959 in a garage in Verona, Italy. Fifteen years later, they started Aquafil to produce nylon for making raincoats, an enterprise that led to factories on three continents. But before the turn of the century, cheap products from Asia flooded the market and destroyed Europe’s textile production. When Bonazzi had finished his business studies and prepared to take over the family company, he wondered how he could produce nylon, which is usually produced from petrochemicals, in a way that was both successful and ecologically sustainable.
The question led him on an intellectual journey as he read influential books by activists such as world-renowned marine biologist Sylvia Earle and got to know Michael Braungart, who helped develop the Cradle-to-Cradle ethos of a circular economy. But the challenges of applying these ideologies to his family business were steep. Although fishing nets have become a mainstay of environmental fashion ads—and giants like Dupont and BASF have made breakthroughs in recycling nylon—no one had been able to scale up these efforts.
For ten years, Bonazzi tinkered with ideas for a proprietary recycling process. “It’s incredibly difficult because these products are not made to be recycled,” Bonazzi says. One complication is the variety of materials used in older carpets. “They are made to be beautiful, to last, to be useful. We vastly underestimated the difficulty when we started.”
Soon it became clear to Bonazzi that he needed to change the entire production process. He found a way to disintegrate old fibers with heat and pull new strings from the discarded fishing nets and carpets. In 2022, his company Aquafil produced more than 45,000 tons of Econyl, which is 100% recycled nylon, from discarded waste.
More than half of Aquafil’s recyclate is from used goods. According to the company, the recycling saves 90 percent of the CO2 emissions compared to the production of conventional nylon. That amounts to saving 57,100 tons of CO2 equivalents for every 10,000 tons of Econyl produced.
Bonazzi collects fishing nets from all over the world, including Norway and Chile—which have the world’s largest salmon productions—in addition to the Mediterranean, Turkey, India, Japan, Thailand, the Philippines, Pakistan, and New Zealand. He counts the government leadership of Seychelles as his most recent client; the island has prohibited ships from throwing away their fishing nets, creating the demand for a reliable recycler. With nearly 3,000 employees, Aquafil operates almost 40 collection and production sites in a dozen countries, including four collection sites for old carpets in the U.S., located in California and Arizona.
First, the dirty nets are gathered, washed and dried. Bonazzi explains that nets often have been treated with antifouling agents such as copper oxide. “We recycle the coating separately,” he says via Zoom from his home near Verona. “Copper oxide is a useful substance, why throw it away?”
Still, only a small percentage of Aquafil’s products are made from nets fished out of the ocean, so your new bikini may not have saved a strangled baby dolphin. “Generally, nylon recycling is a good idea,” says Christian Schiller, the CEO of Cirplus, the largest global marketplace for recyclates and plastic waste. “But contrary to what consumers think, people rarely go out to the ocean to collect ghost nets. Most are old, discarded nets collected on land. There’s nothing wrong with this, but I find it a tad misleading to label the final products as made from ‘ocean plastic,’ prompting consumers to think they’re helping to clean the oceans by buying these products.”
Aquafil gets most of its nets from aqua farms. Surprisingly, one of Aquafil’s biggest problems is finding enough waste. “I know, it’s hard to believe because waste is everywhere,” Bonazzi says. “But we need to find it in reliable quantity and quality.” He has invested millions in establishing reliable logistics to source the fishing nets. Then the nets get shredded into granules that can be turned into car mats for the new Hyundai Ioniq 5 or a Gucci swimsuit.
The process works similarly with carpets. In the U.S. alone, 3.5 billion pounds of carpet are discarded in landfills every year, and less than 3 percent are currently recycled. Aquafil has built a recycling plant in Phoenix to help divert 12,500 tons of carpets from the landfill every year. The carpets are shredded and deconstructed into three components: fillers such as calcium carbonate will be reused in the cement industry, synthetic fibers like polypropylene can be used for engineering plastics, and nylon. Only the pelletized nylon gets shipped back to Europe for the production of Econyl. “We ship only what’s necessary,” Bonazzi says. Nearly 50 percent of his nylon in Italy and Slovenia is produced from recyclate, and he hopes to increase the percentage to two-thirds in the next two years.
His clients include Interface, the leading world pioneer for sustainable flooring, and many other carpet producers plus more than 2500 fashion labels, including Gucci, Prada, Patagonia, Louis Vuitton, Adidas and Stella McCartney. “Stella McCartney just introduced a parka that’s made 100 percent from Econyl,” Bonazzi says. “We’re also in a lot of sportswear because Nylon is a good fabric for swimwear and for yoga clothes.” Next, he’s looking into sunglasses and chairs made with Econyl - for instance, the flexible ergonomic noho chair, designed by New Zealand company Formway.
“When I look at a landfill, I see a gold mine," Bonazzi says.
“Bonazzi decided many years ago to invest in the production of recycled nylon though industry giants halted similar plans after losing large investments,” says Anika Herrmann, vice president of the German Greentech-competitor Camm Solutions, which creates bio-based polymers from cane sugar and other ag waste. “We need role models like Bonazzi who create sustainable solutions with courage and a pioneering spirit. Like Aquafil, we count on strategic partnerships to enable fast upscaling along the entire production chain.”
Bonazzi’s recycled nylon is still five to 10 percent more expensive than conventionally produced material. However, brands are increasingly bending to the pressure of eco-conscious consumers who demand sustainable fashion. What helped Bonazzi was the recent rise of oil prices and the pressure on industries to reduce their carbon footprint. Now Bonazzi says, “When I look at a landfill, I see a gold mine.”
Ideally, the manufacturers take the products back when the client is done with it, and because the nylon can theoretically be reused nearly infinitely, the chair or bikini could be made into another chair or bikini. “But honestly,” Bonazzi half-jokes, “if someone returns a McCartney parka to me, I’ll just resell it because it’s so expensive.”
The next step: Bonazzi wants to reshape the entire nylon industry by pivoting from post-consumer nylon to plant-based nylon. In 2017, he began producing “nylon-6,” together with Genomatica in San Diego. The process uses sugar instead of petroleum. “The idea is to make the very same molecule from sugar, not from oil,” he says. The demonstration plant in Ljubljana, Slovenia, has already produced several hundred tons of nylon, and Genomatica is collaborating with Lululemon to produce plant-based yoga wear.
Bonazzi acknowledges that his company needs a few more years before the technology is ready to meet his ultimate goal, producing only recyclable products with no petrochemicals, low emissions and zero waste on an industrial scale. “Recycling is not enough,” he says. “You also need to produce the primary material in a sustainable way, with a low carbon footprint.”