Nobelists Find All Eyes On Prize

When Michael Smith took a share of the Nobel Prize in physiology or medicine in 1993 for his work in reprogramming genes, 1989 Nobelist J. Michael Bishop, University Professor in the department of microbiology and immunology at the University of California, San Francisco, offered some friendly advice: Learn to say "no." JUST SAY NO: 1993 laureate Michael Smith was advised to turn down invitations. Previous Nobel laureates warn that the attention and instant celebrity in the first year-even up to the third year-after winning the prize can be overwhelming. For many, it becomes the busiest time of their life. Smith, a professor of biochemistry and molecular biology and director of the University of British Columbia's biotechnology center, didn't heed Bishop's advice, though he's hardly complaining. While most Nobelists-including Smith-would agree with Bishop, they also talk about the vast opportunities winning the prize presents. These might include, for example, new research collaborations, lecture invitations across the globe, the opportunity to influence federal science policy by serving on various committees (say, for the National Academy of Sciences), and testifying before Congress. ONSLAUGHT: Phillip Sharp says media attention on winners lasts "for weeks." "The immediate result is the media onslaught, which lasts for weeks," says Massachusetts Institute of Technology biologist Phillip Sharp, who shared the 1993 prize for physiology or medicine with Richard Roberts of New England BioLabs in Beverly, Mass. "Then there's the second wave of invitations to speak at meetings, give lectures, and sit on various national committees. For example, I sit on the President's Committee of advisers on Science and Technology. Was my invitation related to the Nobel? Well, not exactly, but I suspect it wasn't unrelated. "You're in much greater public demand," he explains. "In the three years since I won, I've never worked harder." While the newest batch of Nobel Prize winners, who were named last month (see story on page 1), are still caught up in the excitement of the moment-they don't receive their awards formally until December 10, the anniversary of Alfred Nobel's death-those who have won in recent years have had time to reflect on their experience. Most scientists say the award has changed them little. Many, of course, are retired and no longer conducting bench research. Others are content to continue their careers much as before, though none are left untouched by the special prestige attached to winning a Nobel Prize. FLURRY: Rudolph Marcus reports a "flurry of activity" since winning his 1992 Nobel. "There's a huge amount of correspondences from colleagues and friends, meeting invitations, and national and international committees to serve on," relates Rudolph Marcus, Arthur Ames Noyes Professor of Chemistry at the California Institute of Technology, who won the chemistry prize in 1992 for theoretical work elucidating the intricacy of chemical processes involving electron transfer in solution. "The first year was such a rush of activity; it was overwhelming. It's only starting to slow down slightly now," he says, noting that next month he's off to Chile to help in the selection of that country's presidential science officials. Many, such as Smith, use their newfound celebrity to call public attention to certain causes. The Nobel, in a sense, provides a bully pulpit to espouse views on science funding, education, and other policy issues. Smith, for example, donated all of his Nobel winnings-$500,000 in Canadian money-to several causes, including organizations that support schizophrenia research and women in science. He also decided to volunteer for those same causes, even helping raise funds for schizophrenia research. Now he's planning to give up his administrative duties and take a sabbatical to return to the laboratory "to find out if I can contribute as a working scientist anymore." ADVOCATE: Leon Lederman, a 1988 laureate, now focuses on educating the public about science. Nobel-winning physicist Leon Lederman has spent much of the time since his 1988 Nobel in an effort working to reform science and math education. As a professor of science at the Illinois Institute of Technology (IIT) and director emeritus at Fermi National Accelerator Laboratory in Batavia, Ill., he continues to teach undergraduates, though he no longer is an active bench scientist. "I had won awards before," Lederman observes, "but I had no idea of the effects of being sprinkled by those Swedish holy waters. Whenever I lecture or appear somewhere, I'm introduced as a Nobel Prize winner. I did not appreciate before how it opens doors." REFORMER Kenneth Wilson got invovled in math and science education efforts. Kenneth Wilson, a 1982 physics winner who became codirector of Discovery, a mathematics and science reform effort in schools throughout Ohio, agrees. Wilson, the Hazel C. Youngberg Trustees Distinguished Professor at Ohio State, believes that he would not have been chosen as codirector without the prize. Some Nobelists hope to influence political matters. Last September, 1989 physics winner Norman Ramsey of Harvard University presented two open letters to Congress backing the National Institute of Standards and Technology research facilities, which were in danger of being eliminated. One letter was signed by 25 physics Nobelists, the other by the presidents of 18 scientific societies. Other Nobel Prize winners spend time devoted to social concerns. Physics Nobelist Henry Kendall (1990) of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, for example, is a founding member and chairman of the Union of Concerned Scientists, which focuses on environmental issues. Many Nobel laureates obtain high positions in larger scientific and academic arenas. Harold Varmus, for example, who won the Nobel in physiology or medicine in 1989 along with Bishop for pioneering work on cancer-causing oncogenes, currently heads the National Institutes of Health. Daniel Nathans, a 1978 winner in physiology or medicine, is president of Johns Hopkins University. Rockefeller University in New York seems to prefer Nobelists at its helm: Its last three presidents were physiology or medicine laureates Joshua Lederberg (1958), currently University Professor at Rockefeller; David Baltimore (1975), now at the Whitehead Institute for Biomedical Research at MIT; and Torsten Wiesel (1981), the current president. NEW HONOR: 1989 Nobelist Thomas Cech won the National Medal of Science this year. Still, it troubles some Nobelists-like Thomas Cech of the University of Colorado, Boulder-that some prize winners may venture opinions on topics in which they are not particularly knowledgeable. "Those who receive the Nobel are asked for their opinions on social, political, economic, and philosophical matters quite frequently, and they may have no particular training in those areas," says Cech. He shared the 1989 Nobel in chemistry for discovering that RNA not only passively carries genetic information in living cells, but also performs enzyme-like functions. "Depending on the individual, they may not take particular care in how they answer." Cech just won a 1995 National Medal of Science, along with Hans G. Dehmelt, a professor of physics at the University of Washington, Seattle, who also received a Nobel in 1989 (N. Sankaran, The Scientist, Oct. 30, 1995, page 3). "It's a strange situation," Cech continues. "One day their opinion might not mean much more than anyone else. Then they get the award and suddenly their opinions on whether children watch too much television or what we should do about the war in Bosnia is listened to." While some Nobelists may be asked to comment on subjects outside their expertise, at the same time they may use their new status to refocus their interests in other areas. That's what Lederman and Wilson did in the area of promoting science education. Says Lederman: "The Nobel encouraged me to do things I thought should be done and to talk about the lack of long-term investment in science education and research. "It's also essential to educate the public about science," he says. "To convince young people, you have to convince parents and teachers." He spends the lion's share of his time as the guiding hand behind the Teachers Academy for Mathmatics and Science, which he helped found five years ago and is based on the IIT campus. It's aimed at training elementary science and math teachers. Of course, being a spokesperson for science education is hardly new for Lederman. He promoted improved education through the American Association for the Advancement of Science, of which he was president in 1991. Lederman is also hoping to take his passion for communicating science to the airwaves. He is working with Adrian Malone, executive producer of such science-television shows as Carl Sagan's "Cosmos," to develop what Lederman terms a "dramatic television series teaching the process of science." The show, which would be aimed at both parents and children, would be funded in part by the National Science Foundation and the Department of Energy. Lederman is a TV veteran; he has appeared on shows such as "Nightline" and "Donahue," and his 1990 young people's Christmas lecture on science was televised on the Learning Channel (S. Pendlebury, The Scientist, June 10, 1991, page 19). But he says he has no plans to appear on screen in the proposed series, preferring a behind-the-scenes role. Physicist Russell Hulse's share of the 1993 Nobel has come with a touch of irony. Shortly after his Nobel-winning work some two decades ago as a postdoctoral student in cowinner Joseph Taylor's laboratory at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst, he left the field of astrophysics. Today, at age 44, he is principal research physicist at the plasma physics laboratory at Princeton University. He contends that the Nobel has made a "major change in my life. Suddenly I'm lecturing about [Nobel] work I'm not doing anymore," he says. In addition to new opportunities-serving on the board of directors of the Association of Universities for Research in Astronomy, for example-he has begun to collaborate with a professor at Trenton State College in an effort to enhance pre-college education, particularly by introducing students to computer modeling. Burton Richter, director of the Stanford Linear Accelerator Center (SLAC), a high-energy physics laboratory, shared the physics award in 1976. Richter maintains that the Nobel "helps when I'm in Washington to get attention from Congress." It also influenced his subsequent career path. "One of the things my wife said when I won the Nobel was, 'No one should get the Nobel before 60,' " recalls Richter, who was 45 at the time. "I didn't understand it at first, but after some years, you begin to wonder, how many mountains in science are there left to climb? I'm not sure I would have gone into science administration if I hadn't won the Nobel." Since 1984, when he became director of SLAC, he has focused on "high-energy physics and making opportunities here for young scientists to do innovative work." ROLE MODEL: Gertrude Elion, a 1988 laureate, now is a mentor of young women scientists. Scientist, emerita, Gertrude Elion of Glaxo-Wellcome Research Laboratories in Research Triangle Park, N.C., also enjoys her mentor role. Elion, who never earned a Ph.D., shared the 1988 Nobel Prize for physiology or medicine for developing, over decades, treatments for leukemia, malaria, bacterial infections, herpes, gout, autoimmune diseases, and transplant rejections. Today, Elion sees herself as a role model for young women, and she encourages them to pursue careers in science: "I tell them that if you think it is hard for women now in science, you should have seen it 50 years ago. "I'm still a scientist at heart," the 77-year-old Elion notes, adding that she mentors a third-year Duke University medical student each year to "stay involved in research." Beyond the often-overwhelming celebrity, many Nobelists lament the loss of time to continue their research. Some have other complaints. Ironically, Harvard University scientist Dudley Herschbach, who shared the 1986 Nobel for chemistry, has found funding much harder to come by since he won his Nobel. "I thought that it would help bring in money to support my laboratory and graduate students and postdocs," he says, "but it's had the opposite effect. Every funding agency says, 'He's a Nobel Prize winner, someone will fund him!' "I was never turned down for funding before the Nobel. Now I have to keep rewriting proposals." A BARRIER? Roald Hoffmann thinks the Nobel might distance a professor from students and discourage other honours. Roald Hoffmann of Cornell University shared the 1981 chemistry prize for his theories involving the course of chemical reactions. He's dismayed, he says, that the Nobel often signals the end to awards other than honorary doctorates. Though 1995 National Medal of Science winners-and Nobel laureates-Cech and Dehmelt may disagree, Hoffmann says: "It's somewhat galling to those of us who have done new things since winning the Nobel to be counted out for other awards, such as the MacArthur [Foundation Fellowships]," or so-called genius awards. "I think these other groups have decided that they want the prestige for their award, and not have it come after the Nobel." Hoffmann has found some problems accompany the Nobel Prize. "Some well-meaning people may be interested in the Nobelist's name, not the person," he says, when asking him to endorse a program or serve on an editorial board, for example. He also finds that the Nobel Prize may "act as a barrier between you and students. It puts you on a pedestal of sorts." Steven Benowitz is a science writer at Penn State University's Milton S. Hershey Medical Center in Hershey, Pa. (The Scientist, Vol:9, #22, pg.,1,8 , November 13, 1995) (Copyright © The Scientist, Inc.)

Nobelists Find All Eyes On Prize

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