Communication, and other things we can learn from e.coli
Last week I drove up to interview a University of South Carolina professor on a grant-funded program there that will spend the next four years delving into the chemical pathways of bacterial communication. And this is what you learn from talking to scientists: The rest of us spend our lives living about 10 years in the past..
The concept of bacterial and viral communication isn't exactly new to me, but I'd mentally categorized the idea in that big virtual folder called "Kinda Out There" (KOT). Since I'm always Jonesing to write another story about KOT science, I'd been looking for an excuse to do more on microbial communication.
But once again, I was wrong. Bacterial communication isn't a new theory at all. The first scientific evidence that bacteria communicate is 30 years old, and the paradigm shift occured in the mid-1990s.
There's something a little discouraging about this trend. When I talk about this story, educated laymen are amazed and interested. When I publish these kinds stories, people write enthusiastic and appreciative letters and e-mails. There is no doubt in my mind that the public interest in science is there.
So why are we so ignorant about it? Why can't Americans, participants in the most media-saturated culture in human history, at least stay current on the major paradigm shifts?
One answer to this is the media itself: Journalists tend to be the ultimate generalists -- we might drink for free on bar trivia night, but when it comes to in-depth knowledge of anything, we're typically on the outside looking in. Secondly, outside of the top-tier specialists at the major metros, there really isn't much incentive for journalists to read the kinds of books and journals that help develop specific expertise.
Which makes this one of the areas where blogs threaten the Old Order while creating new opportunities for reporters. In their imperfect, messy way, blogs make sense of cutting-edge science and tech news long before journalists even know that news has occurred. Consequently, the fastest and most effective way for me to xark a new topic is to start my search in the blogosphere, not the general web.
Today's example: I ran a standard Google search looking for materials on "bacterial communication." This produced about what you'd expect: Papers, sorted by hit-relevance, not timeliness, not value. It was generally useful, but obviously a crapshoot. I needed a more intelligent filter than the standard search engine.
Then I ran the same search at Technorati. This brought back a bunch of trash, but also the keys to the secret garden: Specialists, talking amongst themselves, on the subject in which I was interested.
Journalists can read technical papers. We just read them very slowly, and without great retention. The better way to learn is to find what the experts themselves are saying and eavesdrop on their conversations. This frames things for the generalist. It lets us know what's important, why, and where to find it. Plus, it bears noting that scientists, when they're not writing for publication, talk like normal people. Thank God.
My search led me first to a blog called phrenologist, where the author was impressed by a recent study in Nature (which reached him via another blog called neurodudes) that found that bacteria were communicating in "thought bubbles" encased in the same stuff that makes up our cell membranes.
The interesting thing from my point of view is that neurons communicate with each other at synaptic junctions in the exact same way. It seems quite plausible that all neural communication has evolved from this very basic bacterial mechanism.
That connection between these communication "vesicles" being made of the same stuff as regular cell walls was phrenologist's contribution. You don't find that mentioned over at neurodudes. Their contribution is to wonder aloud...
I wonder if this is evolutionarily connected to synaptic vesicles or if this is a case of something like convergent evolution…
... and very quickly, I'm grounded in a useful perspective on what would otherwise be a dry and difficult piece of cutting-edge science. These two quick commentaries, each with slightly different observations and questions, are far more valuable to me than the original study. Because now I "get it."
Blogs and humans are like bacteria in this sense: We're always talking, always sending messages. We exist in a medium that is literally an information soup -- the "white noise" of modern life.
But a message can only received if we have the right "receptor" in place to recognize the new information. The message, like a three-dot Lego piece, must literally fit into a physical slot that has been designed to accept it. Humans who aren't prepared to receive information as just as blind to it as an e. coli without the right chemical receptor. As I once told a former boss, "We can't see what we can't imagine," which should tell us something about what makes change possible.
Bloggers can help lead journalists to understanding. Journalists can help people imagine new possibilities. With those new receptors installed, perhaps more people will be able to absorb and integrate more ambient information as it floats past them.
Bacteria are individual, but they have a shared consciousness. So do we. Once we grasp this, it becomes possible to see what was once invisible.
We can continue to live 10 years in the past. Or we can evolve. And if the continuing evolution of our species strikes you as scary, my suggestion is: Get yourself some new receptors, Mr. Neanderthal.


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