A certain style in science...

Abstract

My Life in Scienceby Sydney Brenner BioMed Central Limited, 2001. $22.10 pbk (191 pages) ISBN 0 9540278 0 9I first met Sydney Brenner at a Symposium in the USA at the beginning of the 1950s. Short and broad of back, this character seldom went unnoticed. His squarish head, his blue eyes beneath blond brows, enormous, hirsute, shaggy, he ressembled certain Dutch portraits – a real Franz Hals! But behind his slightly sarcastic manner and even devilish aspect, his smile revealed a child's face. Born in South Africa, he had settled in Cambridge University's Laboratory of Molecular Biology, already home of Fred Sanger, Max Perutz, John Kendrew and Francis Crick. A beautiful string of prima donnas into which Sydney fitted perfectly.As soon as he appeared on the scene, Sydney took part in almost every advance in molecular biology. He was involved in the establishment of colinearity between gene and protein, in the demonstrations of the triplet nature of the genetic code, in the discovery of messenger RNA. And when he decided to switch from bacteria to metazoa, he ‘invented’ the nematode, a small worm of which he analysed both genetics and anatomy. As quick with his mind as with his hands, he was interested in everything. In addition, he had a good sense of humour, which could sometimes turn to nasty wittiness.Scientists’ autobiographies are a special kind of literature, for scientists can rarely bring themselves to discuss personal matters. They describe an orderly train of concepts and experiments that they have carefully purified from all affective and irrational dross. They get rid of any personal scent, any human smell. Very few scientists – Jim Watson, Max Perutz – dare to write a piece on life that is not restricted to work. Scientists spend most of their life in puzzlement and doubt. Yet they describe their work as a straightforward achievement, a victorious march from darkness to light. In reality, they hesitate, stumble, feel their way, question themselves constantly. They go from hope to disappointment, from exaltation to melancholy, always wondering whether they will emerge from the dark. Scientists write mainly for their fellow scientists and, above all, for historians of science. Historians of science, however, mistrust scientists’ autobiographies. They know that two scientists telling the same piece of history will not tell exactly the same story.Like many of his collegues, Sydney Brenner has written his ‘scientific life’. He dissects and recalls with great care his major achievements and the steps he took to get to them. What I find most revealing in his account is the less scientific part; that is, the beginning of his life and the way he came to science. It is the story of a young Jewish boy, the son of Lithuanian emigrants who lived in a small town of South Africa. It is of the hard time he endured at school, where his small size attracted a lot of teasing and rough play. He said of himself, ‘I grew up to be a professional coward. I would agree to anything not to get bullied’. But the exceptional talents of this small boy were soon recognized. He decided to become a scientist, and the beginning of the book describes how this remarkable boy became one of the most successful biologists of the century. The book is clearly and simply written. It is difficult to resist the fantastic drive and the intelligence of its leading figure.