Eat Science Love

Stop, communicate and listen.

2016-09-13T04:59:00.005-07:00

Lately, I have been thinking a lot about the state of scientific research, both nationally and globally. It is hard to miss the steadily decreasing funding and support for science in Australia. In 2014, the Federal Government cut $400 million from research institutions, placing our scientific climate in its most frozen state in 30 years. In 2015, four Australian Nobel Prize laureates lambasted the national support of science as being poor, with the joint recipient of the 2009 Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine, Elizabeth Blackburn, commenting that the lack of funding for science in the country is ‘just insanity’. Australia’s Chief Scientist, Ian Chubb, even highlighted the fact that every Organisation for Economic Co-Operation and Development (OECD) country except for Australia had an overarching science or technology strategy, designed to co-ordinate national research priorities. We are now in 2016 and although the Turnbull government has promised to invest $1.1 billion into national STEM initiatives, it does not negate the irreparable damage caused by years of cuts to scientific jobs and research funding, which has resulted in overall instability and distress to core scientific institutes, such as the CSIRO. It is hoped that this investment will also translate into higher numbers of grants approved by the National Health and Medical Research Council (NHMRC), as only 15% of grants were approved last year. Unfortunately, as the projected 1% yearly increase in the NHMRC’s Medical Research Endowment Account (MREA) falls short of the 1.3% inflation rate (functionally resulting in a cut to funding), this is unlikely.

However, this is only the start of our problems. Not only are scientists less able to provide the world with cold, hard evidence for some of life’s mysteries, we still haven’t dealt with the increasing problem of self-appointed sceptics injecting fear into the masses for things we already have evidence against. Sceptics come in many shapes and sizes, although scepticism itself is not bad. We have the sceptics who say that every preservative is toxic and should be banned, without considering or knowing that some of the earlier forms of preservation involved everyday products such as salt and vinegar. We now have celebrity chef, Pete Evans, using his large social media following to tell people that sunscreen is full of ‘poisonous chemicals’ with very little factual evidence. Let’s not forget Jenny McCarthy, former Playboy Playmate and figurehead of the ‘Anti-Vaccine Movement’, who claimed that her undiagnosed son had become autistic from being vaccinated. McCarthy then leveraged her celebrity and notoriety from the controversy into a position on the talk show, ‘The View’, gaining access to an audience of 2.7 million viewers. Although a little scepticism is good, these people don’t apply it properly at all. These are the same people who question the veracity of scientists who they regard as ‘shills’, but will then turn around and unquestioningly accept the truths spouted by those they idolise.

From seeing all of these issues facing science, I had to wonder – is there a common factor tying them together? Well, for one, in all cases there is a total underappreciation of science. It seems a strange concept that a field providing so many answers is given so little credit. You could almost say that it is only common sense to see the value of science. However, what we must remember is that common sense is not so common. Now, that is not a dig at the sceptics– it is merely an observation that we all tend to take our own skills for granted and assume that they are ‘common’, when in fact, they are not.

Scientists are particularly guilty of assuming that everyone has the same ‘common sense’ skill set that they do. I know this because I am a member of this guilty party. I realised this after having lengthy discussions with fellow scientists about the ‘stupidity of people’ who believed that the Andrew Wakefield paper suggesting that vaccinations lead to autism was accurate. I was angry that the public did not know that Wakefield’s paper was complete hogwash – that it did not have proper controls, that it was functionally a smear campaign against a pharmaceutical company or that the article was retracted by the journal (for more information on the paper, please see this link:
(http://www.thelancet.com/pdfs/journals/lancet/PIIS0140-6736(97)11096-0.pdf).

However, what I did not realise at the time was that I knew all of those things because I had completed a degree which taught me how to scrutinise research, how to differentiate between reliable and unreliable results, and how to find the answers to my questions. What I thought was common sense, was in fact a specific set of skills that I had acquired over ten years.

This brought me to realise that perhaps the reason that government bodies do not see science as important enough to fund and sceptics do not see scientists as reliable enough to believe is that we as scientists are failing as communicators. We expect non-scientists to have skills that have taken us years to refine and understand research that, in most cases, even we do not completely comprehend. Perhaps the way for scientists to get more funding and credibility in society is to become more accessible by finding ways to explain complex research in simpler terms. Rather than telling a business investor how we are going to perform an intricate set of experiments to study the effect of a mutation at a certain point in the genome for an abstract result, we tell the investor how our research may ultimately benefit society, relating this to their goals and needs. Perhaps we needs to apply this on a much broader scale in communicating our science to the masses. Essentially, we need to meet the public on their terms, rather than cloistering away with other scientists through gruelling grant applications.

This includes equipping non-scientists with the information and tools necessary to make a well-informed decision on matters relating to science. This means giving them more access to scientists and websites with more accurate scientific information. Right now, the public has more access to wildly inaccurate Jenny McCarthy propaganda and sites allowing people to self-diagnose rare, exotic diseases that they are unlikely to have, than sites that provide accurate scientific information for anyone to access. If we want everyone to adopt a logical way of thinking, we need to stop locking our information behind a plethora of paid subscriptions and passwords.

Let’s make science communication more common, make science less scary and perhaps in the long run, increase funding for scientific research. Dream big!

The Courtship of Birds: A Love Story

2014-11-29T19:22:00.002-08:00

Aviphile. Derived from avis (Latin), relating to birds and philos (Greek), loving or having an affinity for.

I am an aviphile. There is something undeniably incredible about an animal with such diversity and ability. Birds have provided all of us with a wealth of information about life. Interestingly, Darwin’s consolidation of the theory of evolution by natural selection was due to his bird discoveries.

After travelling to the Galapágos Islands, Darwin returned to England with what he thought were many different types of birds, collected from different islands. When he presented these specimens to John Gould, an expert ornithologist (basically, one that studies birds), something interesting was found. The birds that Darwin thought were blackbirds, grosbeaks and finches were actually all different species of finch. The distance between the islands meant that the finches could not interbreed, meaning that the species looked distinctly different, with various sized and shaped beaks. We still see this beautiful variation and adaptation today in nature.

Variation in Galapágos finch beak structure shown in Darwin’s 1845 Second Edition ‘Journal of Researches’

Now, as a biologist, I could go on all day about Darwinism (and I may in a future blog), but for now, I shall introduce you to the world of bird courtship. Birds have many ways to attract their mate. These include singing, plumage, dancing, preening and building. These strategies can be used for attraction, mating and to mark territory. The courtship techniques that I want to focus on the most are physical appearance, dancing and building. Why, you ask? To put it simply, I find them the most interesting. I will mostly focus on birds-of-paradise, as I find them to be the most beautiful and unique birds, but I will include some of the more common, yet still amazing, birds.

Physical appearance

When one thinks of a bird’s appearance, they usually think of its feathers (also known as plumage) first. The plumage can vary incredibly between species and even sex within the species. When birds moult, they can develop either a breeding (nuptial) plumage or a basic plumage. If you have ever noticed that some ducks have quite bright plumage and some have plainer coloured plumage, then you may have seen them at different times of the year. During breeding season, the male dons a stunningly bright coat, in what is thought of as a method by which to attract his female mate. In non-breeding season, the male duck has a relatively simple, brown coat, no longer needing to woo his mate.

From left to right: A male female northern shoveler duck (Anas clypeata) with basic plumage and breeding plumage.

(sources: http://www.oceanlight.com/stock-photo/northern-shoveler-anas-clypeata-picture-23393-658553.jpg and

http://tucsonwildlife.files.wordpress.com/2011/02/img_6966.jpg?w=900)

Some plumage can be very unusual and even help to make the bird look more attractive in flight, or in some cases, while bouncing on a tree branch. This is the case for the King-of-Saxony Bird of Paradise (Pteridophora alberti), which has long ornamental head plumes that make his head look sort of like the golden snitch from Harry Potter.

The King of Saxony bird-of-paradise and his beautiful head plumes

Another worthy mention is the Wilson’s bird-of-paradise, which has bare blue skin on the crown of its head that is so bright, it can even be seen clearly at night. It also has a gorgeous tail that looks like curling ribbon, known as a curlicue tail.

Wilson's bird-of-paradise

Dancing

Now, plumage may look pretty all on its own. However, it’s also a fantastic prop for a mating dance, acting almost like a fan or a mask. A bird’s dance can be a very elaborate process. In some cases, a bird will spend the time to clean his dancing space. That includes removing leaves, twigs and any obstructions from the area, and cleaning the bark of a tree. Yes, just like humans, birds take the time to tidy up their place before a prospective lover comes over! I quite like the birds featured in the video below, as their dance reminds me of MC Hammer in ‘You Can’t Touch This’ (WARNING: once you start watching, you won't be able to stop).

Birds-of-paradise mating dances

Building

When most of you think of birds and building, you probably picture a bird’s nest that is used for laying and incubating its eggs, and then raising babies. However, there are far more elaborate and intricate dwellings that a bird can build, and they are used to attract a mate rather than raise their young. This is the case for the bowerbird. Male bowerbirds are architects, using twigs to build dwellings (known as bowers). Bowerbirds build two types of bowers: the first looks like a walkway with walls on either side, and the second has a hut-like roof. To make the bower attractive, the bowerbird collects brightly coloured objects (it has an affinity to blue), such as berries, flowers, shells and sometimes even human objects, and places them in and around the bower.

From left to right: a walkway style bower and a bower with a hut-like roof.

(source: http://shegoes.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2013/10/Satin-Bower-Bird-Nest.jpg and http://lifeandscience.org/keepers/files/2011/06/bowerbird-5-vogal.jpg)

There are undoubtedly many more things that I could tell you regarding the amazing world of birds, but I think I shall leave it there. If you want to learn more about the gorgeous birds-of-paradise and their mating rituals, grab yourself some popcorn and a copy of David Attenborough’s ‘Attenborough in Paradise’ documentary. You won’t be disappointed.

Until next time!

~ Ness

What is this PhD of which you speak?

2014-10-06T06:36:00.002-07:00

Hi readers!

So, I know that I have taken quite a hiatus from my blog. The PhD deadlines have unfortunately been piling high and in turn, my patience has been wearing thin. My original blog post is still sitting in drafts and like the perfectionist that I am, I have not brought myself to finish it off for fear of not doing the topic justice. Kind of like my thesis chapter. Which got me thinking, perhaps I can use my experiences now to instil some wisdom amongst the masses. A lot of you have, are or will be considering doing some sort of postgraduate study. However, sometimes it's really hard to determine whether that path is right for you. I constantly get asked the tentative question, 'So...how's your PhD going?' to which I purse my lips, grunt and mumble something nonsensical before making the person that asked the question feel like a monster (to all of you, I am very, very sorry). Yes, I know a lot of you can empathise with my situation. However, I feel that I should try to draw some positives out of my journey. I have, after all, learnt many things from it.

Five years ago, when I asked my supervisor whether I should do a PhD, he said that the choice was really up to me and no-one would know whether I could do it besides myself. He did, however, offer up some advice. He firstly said to me (and this is somewhat paraphrased...give me a break, it was 5 years ago!) to make sure that I was doing a PhD for the right reasons. Not to add 'Dr.' to the front of my name or because I had nothing else to do. Which leads us to our first lesson.

Choosing to do a PhD should not be a spur of the moment thing. This is really important to remember. A PhD is hard work and takes a lot of patience, persistence and resilience. It is a commitment for at least 3 years. It is not something to take light-heartedly and it is not something one would usually do as a hobby. It is true when they say that there is a reason that not everybody has their PhD. However, a PhD can be extremely rewarding. I can honestly say that at the start of my PhD, I was not as tough as I am now. If an experiment was too hard, I would have cried, walked away and crumbled into a heap. Yes, I still do cry. However, I have taught myself to see through the tears just enough to continue doing my work and hopefully not contaminate my media with the stream of hysteria exploding from my tear ducts. Jokes, aside though, a PhD teaches you willpower, which will allow you to succeed in your future goals and aspirations. It is something that cannot be taught, only learnt from experience.

On the subject of jokes, a PhD will give you a sense of humour, even if it is a bad one. Without the ability to laugh about the bacteria that didn't grow that day or the fact that you didn't load anything onto a gel, you will struggle. Trust me though, when an experiment works or you have a 'Eureka!' moment, it is the best feeling in the world. It makes it all worth it. Laugh with your friends and make silly song mixes to bop along to in your lab. Keep that tiny ounce of sanity in your undeniably insane life.

A PhD teaches you resourcefulness. At home, I have managed to learn ways to make a pretty good meal by finding random things in the cupboard and I'm pretty sure that it is partly due to my new-found ability to find my way through uncharted waters. At work, I have learnt to find a way to deal with situations, even when things seem pretty darn difficult and terribly annoying. You learn to make the best of your situation, which will be useful no matter where life takes you.

A PhD will turn you into an excellent negotiator. In order to survive the lab life, you have to be able to negotiate resources with lab colleagues, barter for equipment bookings and haggle with your supervisor for the amount of figures you are going to include in a thesis chapter. By the time you finish your thesis, you will be able to sell ice to an Eskimo (so to speak).

Last but not least, a PhD teaches you who your true family and friends are. PhDs can kill your social life, and sometimes your poor family and friends may not see or hear from you for an extremely long period of time. I am truly lucky to have people in my life that have not held any of it against me. Instead they have reminded me throughout the entire journey that they are there for me no matter what. Without a support network, you will crash and burn, so do not turn away from these people and do not take them for granted. For when this crazy little thing called a PhD is over, you will want to have those people beside you while you are cracking that bottle of Bollinger and saying something along the lines of Mark Twain's words: 'I'm glad I did it, partly because it was worth it, but mostly because I shall never have to do it again'.

The last thing I will leave you with is a quote that is on my PhD desk from the student before me: 'PhD is impossible. Impossibility is nothing'. Fittingly, she also left me a stress ball.

~ Ness

The Science of Coffee

2014-08-22T06:13:00.000-07:00

As a PhD student who sees too little of the inside of my eyelids, I must be caffeinated on a regular basis. This morning was no exception and so I found myself in a semi-awake state and craving coffee. Not just any coffee. Duke's coffee.

Duke's Lounge is an amazing cafe in Randwick run by a wonderfully kind and talented barista named Duke. Yes, when you thought he couldn't get any cooler, you found out that his name is actually Duke. This is what my fabulous latte looked like this morning. Beautiful, isn't it?

Duke's Lounge's owner and barista, Duke (left) and his masterpiece latte (right)

Duke is meticulous with his coffee dosing, the extraction process (not under-extracted, not over-extracted - just perfect), and he makes sure that the milk temperature just right. Something that he said today gave me inspiration for my post. 'Coffee making; a scientific love affair, a logical passion'. So many of us drink this beverage on a daily basis and yet, we never stop to think how the perfect cup is made. I thought that while I educated myself on the history and science of coffee, that I would share my new-found knowledge with you.

When people speak of coffee, they are usually speaking about one of two different types: arabica, which comes from the Coffea arabica plant, or robusta, which is from the Coffea canephora plant. Arabica would most likely have been the only coffee cultivated (due to its wonderful flavour), if it is wasn't for something known as coffee leaf rust (CLR). CLR destroys coffee plantations and is caused by a pesky fungus known as Hemileia vastatrix. However, what's been found, is that the robusta plant has resistance to CLR. This has lead to cross-breeding strategies between arabica and robusta plant species. This means that the plant is resistant to CLR and we can still have the yummy arabica coffee that we love.

Now, I won't continue on with anymore of the science behind the plant (although, if you are interested, check out the book 'Espresso Coffee: The Science of Quality' - it has a plethora of information on coffee harvesting). What I want to move on to is the science behind making your coffee.

Let's talk about water temperature. Having the correct temperature is crucial for a good coffee. If the water is too cold, the coffee will be under-extracted and will be, in a word, disgusting. There's a few reasons for this. Firstly, the heat of the water allows for particular volatile compounds to be released from the coffee, giving it that amazing aroma - for the budding chemists, that includes ketones and aldehydes. Secondly, it allows for soluble compounds to contribute to that beautiful taste, which includes caffeine and sugars. Thirdly (and definitely just as important), insoluble compounds are released from the extraction (such as proteins and polysaccharides), which give us the beautiful coffee texture, and the foam that we know as crema. Although there are many theories on optimal water temperature, it is believed to be around 92 degrees Celsius for arabica coffee.

Ok...so I hope that the purists will stay with me after I mention this one word. Milk. I cannot forget to tell you about the substance that gives us macchiatos, lattes, cappuccinos, flat whites and any other milk-happy coffee that I have failed to mention. Now, I won't bore you with too many of the intricate details, but there is a science to getting the milk perfect. One factor is temperature. Anyone who has had burnt or badly foamed milk in their coffee will agree that it smells and tastes really bad. Baristas tend to heat our milk to around 55 - 60 degrees Celsius. Why?

Well, there's the obvious reasons such as being a good drinking temperature and not giving the milk that sour taste. However, one thing you may not know is that the most stable foam for a coffee is made when the milk is heated at 50 - 60 degrees Celsius. Yep, they've done studies to test this. Basically, foam is made when proteins are present on the surface of the milk. The proteins lower the surface tension between the gas and the water, (which come from the steaming) to allow small gas bubbles to be made. These tiny bubbles make up the foam that we see in our coffee. When the temperature increases through steaming the milk, the proteins unfold and expose what are called 'hydrophobic groups'. These hydrophobic groups are required to keep the foam stable. Even more interestingly, foam made with whole cream milk is less stable than skim milk foam, due to its higher fat content. These fats can interact with the proteins and cause disruption of the bubbles.

So, the take home message is: when making a coffee, remember to have your water temperature just right and to not burn your milk. Oh, and thank science for your cup of caffeinated craziness in the morning!

~ Ness

Snapping Shrimp 101

2014-08-20T07:51:00.000-07:00

I think for my first proper blog post, I will be kind and ease into our journey with some science fun.

'Science and fun in the same sentence?', you may ask. Absolutely! Science is unbelievably fun and allows you to look at the world in such an amazing light. Let me show you.

An organism that has continuously fascinated me and one which I try to talk about at every possible opportunity is Alpheus heterochaelis, also known as the snapping shrimp. It is fascinating. Unbelievably fascinating.

This crustacean may be small but it sure packs a punch. No, really. Its giant claws look like boxing gloves, which it positions and fires in a similar fashion to a pistol (hence it also been known as the 'pistol shrimp'). When the shrimp snaps its claws shut, it creates an action known as cavitation. Cavitation is the result of high speeds through water and in this case, this means that the snapping creates a water jet moving at about 110 km/hr, causing the water pressure to briefly change.

What does this mean then? A few things, actually. Firstly, a bubble is created - this is extremely important. When this bubble collapses, a crackling noise is released. The noise is so loud that submarines sometimes use areas with large numbers of snapping shrimp to 'hide' and evade sonar. Secondly, the collapse results in a shock wave so intense that it could melt steel. In the shrimp's case, it is used to stun and kill its prey. Thirdly, (and in my opinion, the most exciting) the temperature and pressure within the bubble at the point of collapse is so incredibly high, that it emits a sudden flash of light. That's right, this tiny sucker can throw balls of light from its claws at more than 4,700 degrees Celsius!

Pretty amazing, huh? I'll leave you with this video of the fascinating creatures. I hope you now love them as much as I do!

~ Ness

'The starting point of all achievement is desire'.

2014-08-20T06:08:00.001-07:00

Hi there and welcome!

If you are reading this, it is because you have stumbled upon my new blog, 'Eat Science Love'. I feel the name aptly describes me: a passionate microbiologist, aspiring science communicator and avid foodie who loves to discover new things every day.

I find myself musing on a regular basis; whether it is about the world of science, the meaning of life or how well the flavour combination of my food satisfies the palate. As there are too many thoughts going through my brain at any given time, I am hoping to use this space as an extension of my mind. To give you a glimpse into my world, to entertain you, or merely give you a random fact that could turn up as a trivia question one day.

Sometimes these thoughts may be concise and light-hearted, sometimes lengthy and broody. However, what I can promise as someone who is working towards being a better communicator and scientist, is that my words will be honest and sincere. For as Albert Einstein aptly said, 'Whoever is careless with the truth in small matters cannot be trusted with important matters'.

I hope that you enjoy the journey that is, 'Eat Science Love'.

~ Ness