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(video 70)
I think of myself as a bird man or a fruit fly man, I don't know anything about bacteria, I
never did a course in... in bacteriology or microbiology in my life. But it so happened that,
almost 10 years ago now, my wife was working in a lab next door to a group of people who
were working on antibiotic resistance in bacteria. And they, I think, initially thought it was a
problem in protein chemistry, what is it that was changed about the enzymes that made
them resistant to penicillin? But they increasingly, I think, realised that they were working
on a problem which had to do with evolution, and very rapid evolution. And Sheila
suggested to them that they might actually not be wasting their time if they came to talk to
me about it. And it was great for me, because for the last five years I spent most of my
practical working time actually thinking about just this problem. And, you know, I get my first
hands on the data and I'm able to think about it. And it is actually... rather, it's almost eerie,
actually, the way that penicillin resistance has spread round the world in bacteria, in 50
years, since the first serious clinical use of penicillin. And now that we can actually
sequence genes, and, sort of, trace them, we can actually give a history of it in some
cases. Bacteriologists have the nice habit, when there's an epidemic of something, they
isolate the bacteria and they put some of them in the deep freeze, so that it's as if all your
fossils are in the freezer and when you want to know what their genes are you just pull
them out and sequence them. It'd be lovely if you could do it with dinosaurs, but you can't.
But here we've got an evolution... a bit of evolutionary history where we can actually go to
the freezer and take out the ancestors and have a look. And in streptococcus, which was
the first bacteria which they really worked on, it's actually a very sad story, that the first
genes, the first bacteria resistant to penicillin, were found in New Guinea and in the
northern part of Australia, but particularly New Guinea, in the years immediately after the
war. And what happened was that foreign troops, both Australian troops and Japanese
troops had been in New Zealand... in New Guinea and had infected the natives with
respiratory diseases caused by streptococcus, to which they were totally unresistant and
were really suffering seriously from respiratory diseases. And it's almost fair to say that
New Guinea was sprayed with penicillin... I mean, it was used in a sort of mass, uncritical
way. And it, in the short run, was effective - it did indeed cure the diseases, which is good.
But the first resistant streptococci emerged during that period. And they did so in an
interesting way. They did it by sex, and we can do that by sequencing the genes and
looking at the genes responsible. And it turns out that the so-called Penicillin Binding
Protein Gene, which is the main one that changed, has received a great insert from
somewhere, by which I mean, most of the gene in the resistant and the sensitives are
identical, but a piece of some hundreds of nucleotides in the middle of the resistant strains
is quite different from the sensitive ones. And you can say, that bit's come from
somewhere. In streptococcus, we still don't know where it came from. Though, in the
second bug we looked at, which is neisseria, which is a cause of meningitis and
gonorrhoea, we do know where the gene came from and we know where the insert came
from - it's exactly the same story, a piece has come in, and we can identify the source.
From a different kind of bacteria. In the neisseria case, it came from perfectly harmless
relatives of neisseria, they're also neisseria but they're not causing meningitis or
gonorrhoea or anything like that. And I wouldn't be a bit surprised if two or three of us in the
room right now had it in our throats. They're quite harmless commensals. And they just
happened, by chance, to be resistant to penicillin.
Penicillin
(video 71)
Penicillin kills bacteria by binding to some enzymes called, rather curiously, penicillin-
binding proteins. When I first heard of them I thought their function was to bind penicillin, it's
nothing of the sort. Their function is to make the cell wall, and the penicillin comes in and
binds to them and prevents them making the cell wall and the bacterium dies. Now, we find
that some of these commensal bacteria are naturally resistant to penicillin. That means to
say, if you take an isolate out of the freezer, which was put there before the clinical use of
penicillin, back in the 1940s or something, they're already resistant to a drug they've never
met, and I think never could have met it. I mean, there's plenty of penicillin being produced
in the soil by soil... fungi, and so if I found a soil bacterium which was resistant to penicillin,
it would make sense as having happened by natural selection. But it's very hard to explain
why something in our throats which could never have met penicillin, I think, should have
this resistance. I think it's just a matter of chance as to whether the penicillin could or
couldn't bind in an appropriate way to the enzyme. On the other hand, once a piece of that
gene was transferred into a... the bacteria in our throats, and penicillin was being used, the
selection favouring it would be enormously powerful, of course.
[RD] But was that gene doing anything in the original ones who just were spontaneously
resistant?
It was certainly making cell walls, but I think the fact that it was spontaneously resistant was
just an accident, that's my guess. It's hard to be sure. And the alternative is that... that it
evolved by natural selection in soil bacteria, and then, by some accidental process, it's got
transferred into the throat.
Bacterial cells don't fuse, I mean, they don't go into sex as we do, but there are a variety of
ways in which genetic material from one bacterium can be transferred to another. Either
quite small pieces, of a few hundreds or a few thousand nucleotides, up to a whole group of
genes going across. And some of these processes are rather common, some only happen
rather rarely. But the general notion that genes are moving about in bacteria, even across
quite wide taxonomic boundaries, they don't even have to be closely related bacteria for
this to happen always. The bacteria... I picture another analogy, I picture a bacterium like E.
coli, a little like a football team, every now and then they need a new goalkeeper or a new
striker or something, and they can sort of buy one in by these various processes of
horizontal transfer.
[RD] Not even from other E. coli, but from quite different bacteria?
Maybe from other E. coli, but sometimes from quite different bacteria.
The process of transfer in bacteria (73)
I think it's important to distinguish two very different processes. The one that I and my
colleagues have worked on mainly is a process called transformation, which only goes on
in some kinds of bacteria. It does go on in both neisseria and streptococcus, which are the
ones we're working with. This really does look like a highly evolved process for transferring
bits of genes between closely related bacteria. You have really to be a pretty close relative
before you can do it, and it's very common. Gonococcus, the organism that causes
gonorrhoea, was shown by a young colleague of mine, Maria O'Rourke, to be essentially
random mating. I mean, the amount of frequency of exchange of bits of DNA between
gonococci is so frequent that their genes are in what we call linkage equilibrium, it's
complete random assortment from what genes you have at different loci. It says something
about not only their sexual habits but ours. Of course, you'll appreciate that recombination
only matters if you've got gonococcus from two different sources, otherwise it's just having
sex with yourself, and that doesn't have any...
[RD] So they constitute what you might call a gene pool, in a real sense?
That's right, that really do. But that's one kind of recombination. It's one I'm very interested
in, because I'm interested in how did it evolve and so on. The other is a much more
accidental thing. What happens is that there are these what are called bacteriophages,
they're sort of viruses that live inside, say E. coli, as a disease. And they may destroy the E.
coli. And when they destroy the E. coli they make a new protein coat, and they package
their DNA in the protein coat and then they get into another bacterium. Occasionally they
make a mistake, and instead of packaging their own DNA, they package E. coli DNA, and if
that happens, then they carry E. coli DNA into whatever the next cell they attack is. And this
is a much more accidental procedure, it's much less common. It transfers great big hunks
of DNA sometimes. And the... the donor and the recipient don't even have to be particularly
closely related for it to work. And both these processes are going on, and other ones as
well, it's all very complicated.
[RD] So could you almost say that the chunks of DNA that are available to all the bacteria
in the world constitute a kind of giant gene pool that they're constantly swapping in and out
of combinations with each other?
Almost you can. And this was sort of the football team analogy, the idea of E. coli is that it
just takes in DNA somewhere when it needs it. And it can buy it from a team in Germany if
it wants to, you know, it doesn't have to stick to another English team. Indeed, this led
some people... there's a... I think he's a Belgian microbiologist called Sonea to say that we
really ought to think of the bacterial world as a sort of super-organism, and what was
evolving is not the individual bacterial species but the organism as a whole. I have to say, I
think this is complete nonsense, because it's, you know, evolution by natural selection
requires that you have a population of things competing with one another, and you can't
talk about natural selection operating on a single whole. But nevertheless, he was on to a
point that there is this whole field of creatures which are exchanging genetic material.
Operons: JG Roth and JR Lawrence. Jacob and Monod (74)
What we ought to be thinking about is not the individual bacterium as the unit of evolution,
but these bits of DNA as the units of evolution. It's an idea that will be familiar to you, of
course. And, let me give you one example of it, it's not my idea at all, it's suggested by two Comentario [RPM1]: Refering to
Canadian microbiologists, [JG] Lawrence and [JR] Roth. I think it's a fascinating notion. R.Dawkins (the interviewer)
There are, in bacteria, groups of genes called operons. The classic one is the so-called lac
operon in E. coli, it's the first one to be discovered. It's a group of genes, which if you've got
them, they're all end-to-end on the chromosome, and if you switch them on, they enable the
cell to digest and cope with lactose. And lactose is a sugar which E. coli doesn't often meet,
but if it does, it can say “Gosh, I must do something” and it can switch on these genes and
start digesting lactose. And it was the discovery of this group of genes, and in particular the
discovery of how the presence of the lactose switched the gene on, which was done by the
group at the Pasteur, particularly Jacques Monod and François Jacob, which really was the Comentario [RPM2]: France?
beginning of our understanding of how genes are regulated. I mean, for me, after the
Watson and Crick paper, the Jacob - Monod work was the most important thing that's
happened in biology in my lifetime. But nevertheless, there's a puzzle. You've got this
group of genes, and there are many operons in E. coli and every bacterium has these
operons, groups of link genes with a switch or switches at the beginning for switching them
on, when you need them. Why are they linked? You see, the thing would work perfectly
well if the 10 genes, or whatever it is, of an operon, were spotted all around the
chromosome, each with its little switch, and when you want them, you switch them all on,
and they can all have the same switch and switch on. They don't have to be together.
Monod would have replied, 'Well, it's easier to regulate them as a single switch,' and that's
a perfectly plausible explanation. Maybe it's just they are together because it's convenient
to switch them all on at once. What Roth and Lawrence point out is that actually being
together has another advantage, it means you can be transferred from one cell to another
together, and they want to suggest that these operons are little selfish... not genes, but
selfish genetic elements. They've evolved under selection acting on them, because as a
group, they can transfer. Now, this is interesting, because if it's true, there are certain
implications. You wouldn't expect to find genes that you need all the time to be in operons,
because you'd have them, you wouldn't need to acquire them from somewhere, they
wouldn't need to move around. The genes you'd expect to find in operons would be the
genes which are only occasionally needed, only in special environments. And then, if you
can work it out, there is selection in favour of tight linkage. And what Roth and Lawrence
show is that, by and large, that prediction is born out, that genes like the lac operon, for
lactose, which are... for an environment which is only occasionally needed, are in operons
linked together, genes for DNA replication are not. You need to replicate your DNA all the
time, and they're spotted all around the chromosome, switched on together, but they're not
linked. And there are other reasons for thinking that maybe this sort of gene-centred view of
bacterial evolution may be the right way of looking at it. The one I'm particularly interested
in, and I want to work on it with a young friend in Paris, is the possibility that the genes
responsible for transformation, this process of sex that I was describing earlier on, may be
the same, that sexual transfer in the bacteria may be being carried out by groups of genes
which are really doing it for their own good, because they want to jump, you know. They're
bored with sitting in the same cell, they'd like to replicate, like getting into new cells. I don't
know whether this'll turn out to be right.
Adaptation at the organism level (75)
I want to... really to think about adaptation at the organism level, as I'm sure you do,
reading your books. I mean you want to understand why an albatross flies the way it does.
Let's face it, you talk about the albatross, you don't talk about the genes of the albatross.
And the reason you can get away with this, is... I think it's your analogy, the men in the
boat; I mean, if you really can't jump from boat to boat too easily, there's nothing for it but to
keep time with the other seven guys and row as fast as you can. And I think that most of
the time in eukaryotes, genes have to rub shoulders, they have to be good mixers and so
on. And I guess the same is true, to some extent, in prokaryotes, but I am increasingly
struck by the frequency with which genes jump across big distances in prokaryotes and find
themselves in quite unfamiliar backgrounds. And I think if we come back and look at
bacterial population genetics, in 10 years time, it's going to be a very gene-centred science.
No, no. I can imagine Medawar arguing with somebody about it though.
Viviparity may be a big evolutionary mistake! (77)
[RD] You were pointing out the sporadic distribution of asexual reproduction in the
taxonomic tree, and you said, 'Wouldn't it be nice if we could find something else that had
the same kind of sporadic distribution,' but you never actually said whether you'd found any
such examples.
Well, I've not done the serious statistics. I mean, nowadays, you know one has to do proper
statistics before you would justify a statement of that kind. But I have a candidate which I
would like somebody to do the statistics on, and it's rather an unexpected one. It's the habit
of producing your young alive, viviparity. Now, you think, come on, that can't be right, all
mammals are viviparous, you know, one big taxonomic group. I think the fact that mammals
are all viviparous is a little like the Bdelloid rotifers all being parthenogens. It's... it's a
curious quirk. By and large, viviparity crops up, particularly in the vertebrates, in a very
irregular way.
[RD] It's very sporadic in teleost fish.
That's right. I would like to see somebody do a serious statistical survey of the distribution
of viviparity in the vertebrates. And I think they might find that mammals are really weird, in
being... clearly mammals, it's an invention that's succeeded.
[RD] How could the first one have been the male, because it doesn't make the economic
contribution?
Well, perhaps I'm stretching a point by claiming they were males, but they were motile, they
had little, you know, they had flagella to drive the cells along.
[RD] But also tiny.
And tiny, but not so tiny that they didn't have enough cytoplasm there to make themselves
work. The essence of being a female is to produce a large non-motile gamete, and all
gametes were small and motile initially, I think. But there is an alternative view, which I
quite like, which is due to Lawrence Hurst and Bill Hamilton, I think, and others, which is
that it really has to do with the inheritance of these organelles - chloroplasts and
mitochondria. And it turns out that almost universally, organisms transmit their organelles,
their... their mitochondria, let's say, only from one of the two parents. Of course, even if
you're isogamous - it sounds crazy this - but an organism which is isogamous nevertheless
has what's called plus and minus mating types. You can't tell them apart except chemically,
by looking at them you can't tell, but plusses will only fuse with minuses. And this is,
obviously, you'd say, well, that's because otherwise, no sooner has an organism produced
gametes than they'd fuse with one another and you'd be back where you started. And I
think that's right, it prevents selfing. But it then turns out that even in organisms with
isogametes, the organelles are inherited from only one side. In chlamydomones, for
example, which is a little alga, the mitochondria [are] inherited from one mating type and
the chloroplasts from the other. And the argument is that the reason that's important is that
it doesn't offer the opportunity for selfish behaviour on the part of mitochondria, the
mitochondria don't fight one another, so to speak, and the chloroplasts don't fight one
another. And I think that's essentially correct as an explanation. And some people have
wanted to suggest that this is the origin of unequal gametes. I mean, the gametes are
already unequal in a sense, they either contain chloroplasts or they don't. And the
argument has been that you evolve large and small gametes as a way of preventing other
kinds of selfish elements, parasites and so on, spreading. I'm not convinced that the
argument works, but better men than I am think it does, so we'll see. I like the one that I
invented myself, one always does.
[RD] Yes, I confused that with Parker, Baker and Smith, which is similar.
It's the same idea. No, I'm perhaps making unfair claims for myself here. Parker, Baker and
Smith, came up with the idea, and it's essentially the same idea. They showed it to work in
a particular case, by computer simulation. I, in my sex book, showed that the principle is
quite general, and applied game theory to it to show that the conditions under which it
would work, so I... in a sense, I did the analytical proof that it works, but they had... the
basic idea was theirs.
The essential difference between male and female gametes (82)
The essential difference is that if a female gamete is very expensive, male gametes are
really rather cheap. Consequently, a female will not benefit by mating lots of times,
because her fecundity is limited by how many eggs she can produce. A male will benefit by
mating with lots of females, because his fecundity is not limited by his ability to produce
gametes. And in the beast that I worked with, Drosophila subobscura, it was very striking,
that the female mated once in her life, a male could mate five times a day. And their
attitudes, if I can put it that way, towards mating, were very different. The male... female is
extremely choosy and selective, not only would she only mate with members of her own
species, but they had to be the right age, they had to be fit and healthy, and she had
methods of discovering whether they were fit and healthy though the courtship dance. The
males were... you could get a male to attempt to mate with a blob of wax on the end of a
bristle that you moved in the right way, he'd dance with it, and when you held it still, he'd try
and mount it. I mean, he just wasn't a very discriminating organism. I'm afraid, it's what's to
be expected. But once you get the formation of a pair bond, and... which lasts through a
breeding season, or through life, and you get both parents investing in the offspring, then,
of course, it is as important to the male as the female to select an appropriate mate. And
you get these very elaborate mutual courtships in many birds, for example, where both
parents are feeding the young and making equivalent contributions; except, always, of
course, the female has to lay the eggs, but otherwise the male may be doing as much, to
make the nest, to look after the kids. Going back to the very early ethology that Julian
Huxley did on grebes, for example, where you can't tell the male and female apart by
looking at them, and they have this extremely elaborate courtship in which they're both
having to perform to convince the other. So it really does depend how much investment you
put into your kids.