Last week I was in the process of writing a blog post about Synthetic Biology (inspired by the recent signing of the Executive Order creating a National Biotechnology and Biomanufacturing Initiative) when I was confronted with an unexpected problem: I am having a hard time writing about the topic. I would consider myself somewhat of an expert on SynBio – after all, I spent about 10 years of my life studying everything that led to the emergence of this novel field and then expanding its boundaries: first as a graduate researcher developing tools for manipulating biology and then as a postdoc applying those tools to develop sustainable bio-based materials. And although I know quite well what Synthetic Biology is, I am having a difficult time presenting this fascinating subject in an exciting way.
Why is it so hard for me to write about my own field? The first problem is that it’s difficult to talk about a very technical subject without getting into the weeds of it. So, I start by defining what Synthetic Biology is in the simplest way possible – a way to manipulate living organisms to make them do useful things they don’t naturally do. This explanation, while accessible, is pretty nebulous. What useful things? Which living organisms? Manipulate them in what way? I realize that I have to go down to the basics and explain that all life forms contain a blueprint in the form of a DNA code, how this genetic code gets translated into different physical traits, and how we can alter it to create new organisms that can be predictably controlled to carry out the programs encoded in their DNA.
I have done the simple experiment of introducing a piece of foreign DNA into a bacterial cell to make it change color (or some other physical trait) probably hundreds of times. To me, it is as routine as making coffee and as simple as baking a cake. But if I look at it from a higher perspective, a standard genetic experiment quickly becomes much more esoteric: if I change the DNA of a living cell, is it still the same organism or does my input alter it enough to make it something else? What role does my design of the DNA sequences play in making that organism “mine”? Is it the DNA (which has the instructions to make the cell come alive and do the things it does) or the cell itself (which carries out this program) that constitutes life? What IS life?
Not only is biology technically complex, but it is also impossible to isolate its technical aspect from the philosophical, moral, and societal implications. Another big problem is the mistrust of science. Scientists get a bad rap for being poor communicators. I have to agree – the language of science is so dense with terminology and professional jargon, that reading a scientific paper still gives me a headache. Besides, a lot of cutting-edge research is kept behind the paywalls of prestigious journals. It reminds me of how during the Middle Ages scriptures were hidden away in cloisters and only accessible to monks and priests who knew Latin and could interpret it to the commoners (often adding their own spin on it). No wonder the public is wary of new scientific developments – if you can’t understand it, how can you trust it? You just have to believe what scientists tell you – hence the paradoxical “I believe in science” stickers that make me queasy.
While science is, no doubt, complex, I can assure you that there is no effort to hide it from the public. In fact, many scientists put considerable effort into trying to explain what it is we are doing in our labs. But it’s not often easy to understand without spending a decade of life studying the intricacies of the subject. This is why in biology we often resort to metaphors to explain complex concepts: it can be helpful to describe what is happening during the DNA replication as the “unzipping” of two strands or the ATPase enzyme as a cellular motor akin to a watermill that produces energy for the cell. It helps us visualize these processes but comes with its own drawbacks – we tend to anthropomorphize molecular mechanisms and assign them human qualities and moral values. For example, you may have seen the image of a virus sneakily getting into the cell and killing it from within, like a Trojan horse, or heard the take of the sperm cells racing to victory in the custody battle of the egg1.
In all our eagerness to explain complex concepts in an approachable way, scientists forget our main assumption – the fact that we believe that science and progress are ultimately good. We are so confident in that belief that we cannot imagine someone else could have a different opinion, and if they do – we disregard it. It’s a class thing, in a way: we look down upon people who don’t understand this basic premise and we forget that what may sound exciting to us may have a completely opposite effect on our non-scientific audience. This inability to step outside our professional worldview and hear ourselves speak with fresh ears produces bad metaphors, which give rise to misunderstanding and apprehension.
The truism that the most important part of communication is listening is actually true: I realized that as I was dozing off listening to a podcast from a popular economist the other day. He is an extremely smart man who happens to be as far removed from Synthetic Biology as I am from understanding the world of stocks, bonds, and options. Through the veil of a half-dream state, I heard his concerned voice summarizing the recent news and events, one of those being the launch of the National Biotechnology and Biomanufacturing Initiative. I was expecting a hot take on how the plan is poorly thought through in terms of budget expectations or some such thing, but instead heard a much more personal and emotionally charged concern over the implications of the scientific advances themselves. He was reading a quote directly from the executive order summary:
“We need to develop genetic engineering technologies and techniques to be able to write circuitry for cells and predictably program biology in the same way in which we write software and program computers”.
These words were taken verbatim from the document, so everything he pronounced was accurate. The comments he added were also completely true:
“This is gene therapy. This is changing the DNA inside our cells and it’s giving pharmaceutical companies a green light to develop these therapies”.
I could not argue with that, but while I read those lines earlier with optimism and excitement, to him the same words were a cause for alarm. Not having my conscious filter fully on, as I was still half-asleep, I did get the subconscious message from the tone of his voice that these were not good things. And this is probably how it was perceived by thousands of his listeners.
I tried putting myself in his shoes. Forget everything I know about biology and biotechnology: how does it sound? What images would come to my mind if I put aside the ten years of schooling that make me think of biotechnology as a miraculous key to human progress? Honestly, “programming biology” brought to the forefront of my consciousness an image of zombie-like people marching in lines, pushing their large shopping carts to get the next version of the big-screen TV, or working in factories putting together new phones at twice the speed of what today’s non-programmed people could muster. The phrase “circuitry for cells” presented an image of electrodes attached to an open brain or some other combination of flesh and semiconductors that just does not look good together.
Of course, this is not what I actually think of genetic engineering and programming biology. During the waking hour, if I hear “Synthetic Biology” my mind immediately goes to places like clean and sustainable cosmetic ingredients, better quality bioavailable supplements, carbon-neutral consumer products, and materials with superior mechanical properties. I imagine microbial cell factories as industrious yeast strains foaming in transparent vats, accompanied by pleasant smells of fermentation. I also picture the neat diagrams of metabolic pathways and colorful letters of the DNA code being edited with the “molecular scissors” of CRISPR-Cas nucleases. It makes me want to do PCR. Professional deformation is a real thing.
The metaphor of using genetic circuitry to program biology like we do computers works perfectly fine at a scientific conference where scientists, policymakers, and investors – the early adopters of these technologies – get together to discuss the long-term vision and speculate about the potential implications of incorporating Synthetic Biology into the list of top-priority industries for the US. But as the buzzword “SynBio” gets more and more mainstream, we have to think about how the broader audience reacts to these same metaphors.
Yes, putting together the words “synthetic” and “biology” in one sentence might jar some people. But the future is already here as far as this field is concerned, and so far biotechnology has served us in mostly positive ways. So, perhaps instead of simplifying and dumbing it down for the public, we should be more transparent about what we are cooking up in those fermentation tanks. This would help bring real-world examples of the applications of Synthetic Biology to the forefront of people’s consciousness, instead of the images of transhumanism that this word combination may conjure. We could also come up with a more savory name for the field – but it has already stuck with those advancing the science and fulfills the role of packing a complex idea into a simple, yet specific definition. So, instead of rebranding “Synthetic Biology” because it sounds scary we should work to domesticate the term and bring it into more households so that people are not afraid to use products made using this technology for the things they eat, drink, and put on their faces.