Event Review: The Life and Times of Francis Crick, Or does it matter who does science?

On a hot and sticky June evening in London, the Royal Society's coveted air conditioning wasn't the most refreshing part of the Wilkins-Bernal-Medawar Medal lecture. The 2024 winner, Professor Matthew Cobb of the University of Manchester, humbly accepted the award before speaking on, not his own, but the life's work of Francis Crick. He used this opportunity to signpost the importance of diversity in research – which was especially refreshing coming from an older white man at a time when the Donald Trumps and Elon Musks of the world are actively undoing diversity and inclusion efforts. Professor Cobb went a step further by calling out the Royal Society for still allowing Musk to be a member – I'm ashamed to admit I didn't even know he was one (though, ignorance is bliss).

The Wilkins-Bernal-Medawar Medal and Lecture is given for excellence in a subject relating to the history of science, philosophy of science, or the social function of science – and was awarded to Professor Cobb for his work documenting the history of biology as both an author and a broadcaster. The professor of zoology has published eight books – six on biology and, interestingly, two on history – and his current project is a biography of Professor Crick.

Researching the life and work of Professor Crick has taken up much of Professor Cobb's attention for the past three years, and this was evident in his acceptance lecture. I have written about Professor Cobb's opinion on the role that Crick played in his joint Nobel Prize-winning discovery of the double helix (see BioNews 1195) – but this evening, Professor Cobb offered up a different angle.

Of course, the decades-long discourse over whose work was foundational for the unearthing of DNA's structure is almost as famous as DNA itself. Professor Cobb argued, however, that the scientist, or group of scientists, responsible for uncovering the double helix isn't as critical as we think it is. In fact, James Watson, who was recognised for the discovery alongside Crick, said himself that he didn't believe that this was his most important work.

This is because the elucidation of the structure of DNA was almost certainly bound to happen. Unlike happenstance findings, like Sir Alexander Fleming's of penicillin, there were many people actively working on the structure of DNA. Dr Rosalind Franklin, Linus Pauling, and Jerry Donohue each contributed essential building blocks that aided Crick and Watson in their discovery – and this is true of most scientific breakthroughs.

Professor Cobb highlighted how collaboration was paramount to Crick's work – detailing the close scientific relationships he'd had throughout his career, and what each provided him. Though the majority of these key partnerships were with men, Professor Cobb hammered home their diverse backgrounds – all were younger than him and from across the globe – and reiterated how these differences were critical for offering up a new perspective on scientific problems.

The collaboration that stands out among the rest was with Professor Sydney Brenner, a South-African-born biologist. The pair worked together for 60 years, from 1954 at the University of Cambridge to the Salk Institute in La Jolla, San Diego, until Crick died in 2004. Professor Cobb emphasised that the pair had a unique way of working together – the key was their rule of saying anything that came to mind. This fostered an environment that bred creative and imaginative thinking, and ultimately gave way to arguably bigger breakthroughs, including the discovery of messenger RNA. Unlike the structure of DNA, messenger RNA provided an explanation for heritability – an understanding of how the genetic code (a phrase I learned Crick coined) is actually read, expressed, and passed down through generations.

What I was surprised, and somewhat ashamed, to learn as a neuroscientist myself, was that halfway through his working life, Crick swapped molecular biology for neuroscience, taking up an entirely new scientific career. He didn't shy away from the big questions; as well as studying the nature of life, Crick wanted to understand consciousness. Professor Cobb emphasised that this was at a time when many considered consciousness to be a study of philosophy, an unknowable and unobservable entity.

While Crick didn't crack consciousness, or indeed make breakthroughs large enough to dwarf the double helix, according to Professor Cobb he was excellent at experimental design and steered the field in the right direction. He managed to predict the development of huge techniques used across neuroscience today, including optogenetics, RNA sequencing, and transcriptomics. Professor Cobb explained that it was his reputation in the field of molecular biology that made cracking consciousness the more respectable and achievable concept it now is.

So, why was Professor Cobb telling us all this? Why had he spent three years researching and writing and speaking about the Nobel laureate? While it may come across as hero-worship of a once-in-a-lifetime genius, Professor Cobb explained that it is actually the opposite. Rather, to tell us that we should focus on the science itself, and not the scientist.

Professor Cobb provided great context for the successes of Professor Crick, whose career modern-day academics could only dream of. Over almost six decades, Crick wrote a single grant application (for almost $270 million by today's standards!). Additionally, he never had to teach, write or mark exams – the outlandish nature of this concept alone was enough to receive a chuckle from the academic audience. Researchers today aren't afforded the time that Crick had to think, read, and collaborate on science. So while he was clearly a very talented scientist, he was also provided the perfect environment.

Professor Cobb believes that Crick would agree with this sentiment. When asked how he thought he would have felt about the Francis Crick Institute – a swanky research centre in the heart of London which has a structural likeness to that of a chromosome (and also where I happened to do my PhD) – Professor Cobb didn't think that Crick would have liked the homage. By all accounts, he was a private man, and Professor Cobb admitted he probably wouldn't have even appreciated the biography he is working on.

Today, famous scientists are few and far between. People like Professors Jennifer Doudna and Shinya Yamanaka, though awe-inspiring to those in the scientific community, haven't penetrated the zeitgeist like Albert Einstein and Marie Curie once did. And this is a product of the field of modern day science. Professor Cobb is humbly aware that his own scientific findings are not ground-breaking, and more than likely to have been discovered by others who came after him. And if not, then they may not be particularly important at all.

Despite this, Professor Cobb was of course wonderfully grateful to be a recipient of the Wilkins-Bernal-Medawar Medal and Lecture. It is likely that it is his work in scientific communication – rather than his work in the lab – that sets him apart from his peers. It is why, in the same way we know Professors Brian Cox and Hannah Fry, we know Professor Cobb. Not for their discoveries, but for their skill at breaking down complex theories into ideas that anyone can understand. I think that is Professor Cobb's most important work of all.