To the immigrant misfits of science

Dr. Katalin Karikó
credit: Hannah Yoon, NYT

By the time you read this, there will be a chemistry Nobelist announced, and I will undoubtedly have something to say about them. 

Until then, I would like to really lift up Monday's Medicine co-Nobelist, Dr. Katalin Karikó. There is a bit of a cliche where Nobelists seem to be charmed people whose colleagues and friends have always known them to be stars. That's obviously not entirely true, but it feels that way, especially since they are often awarded the Nobel towards the end of their career as a bit of a capstone. 

But it is her struggle to get her science noticed that really endears her to me, especially the fact that she seems to have suffered a series of indignities during her career (via the New York Times): 

Dr. Karikó, the 13th woman to win the prize, languished for many long years without funding or a permanent academic position, keeping her research afloat only by latching on to more senior scientists at the University of Pennsylvania who let her work with them. Unable to get a grant, she said she was told she was “not faculty quality” and was forced to retire from the university a decade ago. She remains only an adjunct professor there while she pursues plans to start a company with her daughter, Susan Francia, who has an M.B.A. and was a two-time Olympic gold medalist in rowing.

The mRNA work was especially frustrating, she said, because it was met with indifference and a lack of funds. She said she was motivated by more than not being called a quitter; as the work progressed, she saw small signs that her project could lead to better vaccines. “You don’t persevere and repeat and repeat just to say, ‘I am not giving up,’” she said.

...At first, other scientists were largely uninterested in taking up that new approach to vaccination. Their paper, published in 2005, was rejected by the journals Nature and Science, Dr. Weissman said. 

Via this post on Twitter (I refuse to call it by its new name), this story from Gregory Zuckerman's "A Shot to Save the World": 

Karikó found a position working in the laboratory of Robert Suhadolnik, a professor in the biochemistry department at Temple University School of Medicine working on AIDS treatments. Money was tighter than she had expected. Karikó made seventeen thousand dollars a year, while Francia, who was unable to find an engineering position, made about the same as a facilities manager for a local apartment complex, where he fixed heating and water systems. Their own apartment didn't have a washing machine, so every few days Karikó lugged the family's laundry to the basement of a nearby building.

Karikó didn't mind the challenges, though, because she was expanding her mRNA expertise. With Suhadolnik as her guide, she was perfecting ways to modify mRNA molecules. By altering the building blocks of RNA, which are called nucleosides, new versions of the molecule can be created to produce proteins in the lab. Laboring day and night, she and Suhadolnik published papers in respected scientific journals. Karikó's career appeared not only to be back on track but on a fast track.

That's when she made her first mistake as an academic. Karikó accepted a better-paid position at Johns Hopkins University but didn't think to give Suhadolnik prior warning that she was seeking a new job. When he heard about the offer, he became furious, vowing to do whatever he could to stop his protégée from leaving. In a difficult meeting with Karikó, he made it clear she had two career choices.

"You can work in my lab or go home," he told her.

Suhadolnik followed through on his threat, telling a local immigration office that she was living in the country illegally and should be deported. Karikó and her husband had to hire an expensive lawyer to fight the extradition order. By then, Johns Hopkins had withdrawn its offer, wary of hiring a suspected fugitive. Suhadolnik continued bad-mouthing Karikó, making it impossible for her to get a new position. She tried not to become discouraged, reminding herself of Selye's lessons. Eventually, she met a scientist at a Bethesda Naval Hospital who had his own difficult history with Suhadolnik and was willing to hire her despite her scuffed reputation. 

This post is already too long, but struggles of immigrant scientists like Karikó's are nothing new to this blog's readership. So many people come to America to do science and struggle here. She had the brilliance, persistence and yes, the luck to be working on something so impactful so many years before it was needed. 

There are many more posts to be written about the things that are wrong about American scientific academia and the way that it evaluates both scientists and science. Nevertheless, I'm so glad we have a chance to celebrate her work. Congratulations to Drs. Weissman and Katalin Karikó.