Genes — Which Do We Need?


It’s widely known that cancers reflect cellular control going awry as a result of change in our genetic material — DNA. Beyond surgery and radiotherapy, cancer treatment uses drugs that either kill cells non-specifically or target mutated proteins. The latter give specificity for tumour cells but currently there are few such drugs. For mutations that inactivate tumour suppressor genes we have as yet no treatment, although one hope is that we will be able to replace these damaged genes with normal versions.

But there’s a problem with drug or gene replacement tactics for any genetic disease because, fundamentally, we don’t understand what we’re doing. Ideally we’d introduce the offending mutation into humans, look at its effect then follow up with our therapy and track what happens. We can’t do that, of course, and, although we can do equivalent experiments in model organisms like the fruit fly or the mouse, models are not the same as humans.

Nature’s experiments

A quite different approach is to note that under the cloak of evolution Nature has been doing these experiments for us. That’s to say, natural human genetic variation has given rise to a vast array of mutations across the population and all we need to do is find them and see what effect they have had on the biology of the individual. The “all” in the previous sentence is a weighty word because to sift out these variants requires DNA sequencing on a grand scale. Fortunately, as followers of this blog will know, such power in the shape of massively parallel sequencing is now available (see Family Tree of Breast Cancer).

The Genome Aggregation Database (gnomAD) has just published (May 2020) its latest efforts in the shape of DNA sequences of 125,748 exomes (protein-coding DNA) and 15,708 whole human genomes. It’s a simply staggering achievement, the aim being to find out what the differences between our individual genetic codes mean in terms of our health. These variants are the differences that make individual genomes unique and they include single nucleotide polymorphisms (‘SNPs’, pronounced ‘snips’ — one nucleotide (base) differing from the reference DNA sequence), insertions (additional nucleotides inserted in a DNA sequence), deletions (missing nucleotides), substitutions (multiple nucleotides altered relative to the reference sequence) and structural variants (large sections of a chromosome or entire chromosomes duplicated, deleted or rearranged).

Cataloguing genetic variation in humans.  The genome aggregation database (gnomAD) includes 15,708 whole-genome sequences and 125,748 exomes and the study catalogued the complete range of naturally occurring DNA variants.

Representation of 141,456 human DNA sequences. This way of presenting a vast amount of data is called UMAP (Uniform Manifold Approximation and Projection): the sequence of each individual is a dot, the individuals comprising six global and eight sub-continental ancestries. The pseudo colours mark clusters of related DNA sequence. Note that this ‘map’ does not relate to location: it is merely a visual representation of a lot of data. The horizontal bar indicates the number of individuals by population and sub-population in the gnomAD study with the same colour code as in the upper figure. From Karczewski et al. 2020.

It turns out that there are rather a lot of them. After filtering to minimise the errors that come with high-throughput sequencing, nearly 15 million high-quality variants were identified in the exome dataset and 230 million in the whole genome screens. In the protein-coding sequences alone there were over 400,000 variants predicted to block the function of the protein.

Where is this massive study taking us?

These naturally arising mutations provide a potentially valuable window on our genomes that we can look through to answer our title question: which of our genes are essential for survival and which can we manage without?

What gnomAD did was to construct a ‘spectrum of tolerance’ for each protein-coding gene in the human genome. This is potentially important because, for example, if a gene that is not essential for life acquires a disease-causing mutation, blocking the gene might cure the disease without killing the patient.

The clearest example of using natural in vivo models of human gene inactivation to inform therapeutic strategy has come from the LRRK2 gene. Variants in LRRK2 can change the activity of the protein it encodes so as to significantly increase the risk of Parkinson’s disease. From the gnomAD screen it turned out that variants in LRRK2 that blocked its normal activity were not strongly associated with evident disease. In other words, we can do without LRRK — and if it picks up a harmful mutation we can try to knock it out, secure in the knowledge that it’s not essential for survival.

So thank you Nature for doing the experiment we can’t do — tinkering with our own genes to see what happens.


Karczewski, K. J. et al. (2020). The mutational constraint spectrum quantified from variation in 141,456 humans. Nature 581, 434–443.

Whiffin, N., Armean, I.M., Kleinman, A. et al. (2020). The effect of LRRK2 loss-of-function variants in humans. Nature Medicine.

Cummings, B. B. et al. (2020). Transcript expression-aware annotation improves rare variant interpretation. Nature 581, 452–458.

Minikel, E. V. et al. (2020). Evaluating drug targets through human loss-of-function genetic variation. Nature 581, 459–464.

Collins, R. L. et al. (2020). A structural variation reference for medical and population genetics. Nature 581, 444–451.

Sharpening CRISPR


The huge publicity given recently to genetic manipulation has meant that almost everyone has heard of CRISPR-Cas — it’s rapidly become the most popular way of editing genes from any organism. Guide RNA is designed to bind to a specific DNA sequence whereupon the recruitment of molecular scissors (the Cas9 enzyme) cuts the DNA at that sequence. The cell’s repair mechanisms will either glue the cuts back together or insert a novel stretch of DNA if that is delivered to the cell — we outlined the basic idea in Re-writing the Manual of Life.

There’s no doubt that, versatile and precise, the development of CRISPR in the last decade or so has been one of the great advances in the life sciences and in medicine it has led to ‘designer’ immune cells with enhanced abilities to seek and attack tumours, as we described in Gosh! Wonderful GOSH.

Seeing a New World described a rat model of retinitis pigmentosa, a genetic disease that is a major cause of inherited blindness and afflicts about one and a half million people worldwide (one in 4,000 in the UK). In this model it’s now possible to inject under the retina of rats with the disease an inert virus carrying the bits of CRISPR-Cas plus a replacement gene for the one damaged in retinitis pigmentosa. The eyesight of these treated mice recovered substantially in response to CRISPR.

Along the way George Church and colleagues have used the CRISPR-Cas system in bacteria to write Shakespeare’s sonnets in DNA and, for good measure, to make DNA movies (Making Movies in DNA).

Almighty Power showed how CRISPR could make almost 4,000 different versions (variants) of the BRCA1 protein and Shifting the Genetic Furniture described using the method to move DNA around within the nucleus.

Wonderful though all this is, CRISPR is not without its problems, most notably that it is not 100% efficient, there can be off-target effects and, as might be predicted, the act of cutting DNA activates TP53 which can be toxic to the cell (Caveat Emptor).

CRISPR base editing

The most recent advance in genome editing uses parts of CRISPR together with other enzymes to insert point mutations into cellular DNA or RNA directly without making double-stranded DNA breaks. The method still uses guide RNAs for targeting but adds a second enzyme to Cas9. Depending on the enzyme either cytidine is converted to thymidine or adenosine to guanosine (A to G mutation).

Base editing by CRISPR. The CRISPR system is modified by coupling another enzyme to Cas9 (or to ‘dead’ Cas9 — dCas9). The enzyme shown is cytidine deaminase. The PAM site (protospacer adjacent motif) is a short DNA sequence following the cleavage site and is required for a Cas nuclease to cut. Alternatively, an E.coli enzyme can be used to make an adenine base editor. From

Treating human disease by CRISPR

Leber Congenital Amaurosis (LCA) is a spectrum of inherited conditions that cause poor vision due to a defect in the cells that detect light in the retina (rods and cones). A press release on October 10, 2019 described LCA patients treated with sepofarsen (QR-110) experiencing a rapid and durable improvement in vision. Sepofarsen uses chemically modified nucleotides complementary to specific mRNAs in the cell (it’s an ‘antisense’ therapy). Sepofarsen tackles a specific mutation in the CEP20 gene by repairing the mRNA, hence permitting a normal CEP20 protein to be made. The drug is administered by injections into the vitreous of the eye (intra-vitreal injections).

A further step in using direct administration of CRISPR–Cas9 gene therapy into the body to treat LCA has come in the form of a trial named BRILLIANCE. Two pharmaceutical companies, Editas and Allergan, are co-operating in this endeavour using EDIT-101, a CRISPR-based gene-editing treatment delivered by an adeno-associated virus, AGN-151587. As with sepofarsen, the components of the gene-editing system are injected directly into the eye, near photoreceptor cells. The first patient has been treated in a phase 1/2 trial of AGN-151587, receiving a single subretinal injection of AGN-151587 and details of the ongoing trial can be found on

These early trials are not, of course, ‘fixing’ cancer but they do appear to give a ‘proof of principle’ that it should be possible to use gene editing to re-activate, for example, mutated tumour suppressors. Watch this space!!





It’s the first day of a New Year and, as is well known, Scottish folk world-wide make a big celebration of yesterday (Hogmanay), New Year’s Day and indeed quite often the next few days for good measure. Even in the far north-west of England as a youngster with more or less black hair (deemed to be important for some reason) I was trundled round the neighbours in one of the rituals — ‘first-footing’, i.e. being the first guest of the new year, despite our family having no Scottish connections that I knew of.

Scots Wha Hae

Most such jollifications seem to require mournful dirges accompanying incomprehensible lyrics by Robert Burns. To be fair I should note that Max Bruch and Hector Berlioz, wonderful composers both, saw fit to include a musical reference to ‘Scots Wha Hae’ in the Scottish Fantasy and in the concert overture Rob Roy. Mind you, Berlioz himself described his overture as “long and diffuse” and it was so badly received that he burned the score the night of its premier.

However, there is something else that Scots make quite a fuss about, given half a chance, and here perhaps we can agree they have a point. It’s the number of notable scientists and physicians their country has produced. Wikipedia’s List of Scottish engineers and scientists runs to over 150 names — remarkable for a population that even today is only about five million. The listed luminaries feature some household names: Alexander Graham Bell, James Watt, James Clerk Maxwell, Lord Kelvin and Joseph Lister just to be going on with.

But there’s a slightly unnerving thing about Wikipedia’s List in that, long though it is, there are some serious omissions. I spotted this the other day when I was searching for a bit of background about one of the heroes of this New Year’s story. The first missing star I noted was John Hunter, generally thought to have carried out the first surgical removal of a malignant melanoma (skin cancer) in 1787. Worse still, I found no mention of William Macewen: it was his first successful removal of a brain tumour (in 1879) that makes him directly relevant to our story. He was a truly remarkable figure. Thought of as the ‘Father of neurosurgery’, he was a pioneer in  surgery of the brain and other organs. But the really outstanding thing about Sir William Macewen CB., FRS., FRCS, to give him his full handle, was his approach to surgery. Thus, for example, in treating brain tumours he applied his profound knowledge of anatomy to work out from the patient’s symptoms the precise location of the abnormal growth so he knew where to take surgical aim. Amazing!

Very slow progress

Nearly 60 years after Macewen’s pioneering surgery the American composer George Gershwin would have appreciated his genius as treatments had made little progress by the 1930s when Gershwin succumbed to a brain tumour (specifically a glioblastoma multiforme). It took until 1958 for the first useful drug treatment for brain tumours to emerge and until the mid-1970s for radiation therapy come into use. Indeed it was only the introduction of CT scans towards the end of the 20th century that permitted tumour localisation without needing Macewen’s extraordinary gifts.

Something very odd

In parallel with these advances has emerged the evidence for an unexpected feature of brain tumours. You might guess that brain tumours would start in the brain but it turns out that most do nothing of the sort. The vast majority (about 90%) are secondary cancers: that is, they arise when tumour cells spread from another part of the body — commonly breast or lung. In other words most brain tumours are metastases — and they are mighty important. About 24,000 people in the United States discover they have these abnormal growths every year and they cause about 18,000 deaths. The rates are much the same in the UK where deaths from brain and related tumours number just over 5,000.

But also familiar …

Those who follow developments on cancer will know that metastasis is one of the hottest potatoes. Until very recently we had no idea of the molecular goings on that turn a cell in a primary tumour into a wanderer that can leave its site of origin, get into the bloodstream, get out at some other location and there establish a new, secondary colony. The mists are beginning to lift as the wonders of modern biology are applied to this pressing problem.

Step forward one of the main movers and shakers in the field who is the modern hero of today’s piece: David Lyden of the Gale and Ira Drukier Institute for Children’s Health, Weill Cornell Medicine, New York.

So topical is this issue of metastasis that I’m relieved to note that the contributions of the Lyden group have featured regularly in these pages (Keeping Cancer CatatonicScattering the Bad Seed and Holiday Reading (4) – Can We Make Resistance Futile). A succinct summary of those contributions would be: (1) cells in primary tumours release ‘messengers’ into the circulation that ‘tag’ metastatic sites before any cells actually leave the tumour, (2) the messengers that do the site-tagging are small sacs — mini cells — called exosomes, and (3) they find specific addresses by carrying protein labels that home in to different organs — we represented that in the form of a tube train map in Lethal ZIP Codes.

In One More Small Step the same team looked closely at exosomes and found that a wide variety of tumour cell types secrete two sizes of exosomes (big and small! — see blog for details!!). Amazingly these sacs carry about 1000 different types of protein — suggesting that they might have powerful effects.

Breaking the barrier

With that in mind Lyden’s group have now turned their attention to how tumour cells find their way to the brain. How do they achieve the feat of crossing the ‘blood-brain barrier’ — the layer of (endothelial) cells that encloses the brain and controls the types of molecules that can move to and from circulating blood — and are exosomes involved? In other words, are they little bags of trouble that play a role in helping most brain tumours to grow?

Answer ‘yes’ of course, or we wouldn’t have spent so long getting up to speed on the subject. Gonçalo Rodrigues, Lyden & Co. set up a brain slice culture system and pre-treated the slices with exosomes from human breast cancer metastatic cells that were known to spread preferentially to different tissues (brain, lung or bone).

Photos of brain slices showing how exosomes help to provide a niche for human breast cancer metastatic cells to invade, attach and grow. These are fluorescence microscopy images: brain blood vessels (vasculature) are red; cancer cells are green (GFP). Left: no pre-treatment; Right: pretreatment with exosomes. White arrowheads show vasculature-associated cancer cells. White bar = 100 micronsFrom Rodrigues et al. 2019.

The photos show a typical experiment using brain-seeking exosomes. There is a huge increase in the number of green cancer cells attaching to the brain slice as a result of exosome pre-treatment (right) by comparison with no exosome addition (left). Corresponding experiments with exosomes that direct migration to lung or bone show no effect: cancer cell attachment remains low (as in the left hand photo).

How do they do it?

The group took their studies a stage further by looking at the 1000 or so proteins in the exosomes for any that seemed to specify migration to the brain — in other words, to act as addresses of the kind we described in Lethal ZIP Codes. They came up with one in particular: a protein called CEMIP  (if you’re interested that stands for ‘cell migration inducing hyaluronidase 1’. It’s an enzyme that chops up long chains of sugars (called hyaluronic acid). These chains form scaffolds to support proteins in various tissues including the brain — and their disruption may play a role in cancer cell movement).

The levels of CEMIP are higher in exosomes that promote brain metastasis but not in those associated with lung or bone metastatic cells. Thus pre-conditioning the brain microenvironment with CEMIP+ exosomes drives invasion. When they are depleted invasion and tumour cell association with the brain vasculature is disrupted. This remarkable new work has revealed how exosomes help wandering tumour cells to storm the blood-brain barrier. Immediately this opens the possibility of isolating exosomes from small samples of blood and screening them for proteins — i.e. using them as a ‘biomarker’ for metastatic cancer targets. But of course the great goal is to be able to interfere with their actions, an intervention that could dramatically cut the incidence of brain tumours. What a triumph that would be!!

We began with a Scottish tradition. Let’s end with another by raising a mental glass to scientists all over the world who, step by perspiring step are inching towards the goal of controlling cancer. Keep it up guys — and back to your benches!!


Rodrigues et al. (2019). Tumour exosomal CEMIP protein promotes cancer cell colonization in brain metastasis. Nature Cell Biology 21, 1403–1412.



Mushrooming Secret Army


We have in these pages talked quite a bit about our ‘secret army’ — the bugs that share our body to the extent that bacteria outnumber us on a cell-to-cell basis by at least three to one. As we noted in Secret Army: More Manoeuvres Revealed, bacteria are just one part of what is collectively called the microbiota’ but with over 2000 different species and a total gene pool hundreds of times bigger than our own 20,000 or so, they are by far the biggest. And it’s gradually become clear that they are not with us just because our bodies are warm, damp and comfortable but they help us get the most out of our food and they’re important in the working of our immune system.

Bacteria and cancer

Most critically, in the present context, we now know that shifts in proportions of species in the microbiome can influence cancer development and perhaps even the spread of tumour cells around the body.

Small fry

Important though they are, bacteria aren’t the only members of the microbiome — which includes fungi, viruses and various single-celled parasites (protozoa). Today’s story is about fungi, a group of microorganisms familiar to gardeners world-wide, that includes yeasts and molds, as well as the more familiar mushrooms. There’s estimated to be several million species of fungi, although only about 120,000 have been described. Some we can eat, some can kill us and, of course, there’s magic mushrooms.

With all this diversity you might wonder whether any fungi have elbowed their way into us to share the delights of the human body alongside bacterial microbes. Of course they have: most people will have heard of candidiasis — a fungal infection caused by Candida yeasts that belong to the genus Candida. Candida normally finds its niche in places like the mouth (giving the condition called thrush), gut, vagina and on the skin and usually doesn’t give us any trouble. But, truth to tell, we’ve known very little about fungi in us until recently when the power of DNA sequencing has started to be applied to the topic. This has confirmed that we do carry lots of fungi around with us, albeit that they are only a tiny fraction of the microbial community (somewhat less than 0.1%).

New actor in the cancer cast

This fungal force of microbes is known as the mycobiome (as distinct from the microbiome) and, in contrast to bacteria, there is no evidence that it has a role in cancer. Until, that is, the recent publication from New York University School of Medicine by Berk Aykut, George Miller and friends showing that fungi travel from the gut to the pancreas where a particular species can actually give cancer a helping hand. The cancer in question is pancreatic ductal adenocarcinoma (PDA) that has a particularly dismal prognosis.How a fungus can drive cancer. The scheme represents a tumour in the pancreas changing the make up of the adjacent fungal community and how a protein in the blood called mannose binding lectin (MBL) can attach to the outer surface of a fungal cell. When this happens MBL changes shape so it can then stick to another protein (C3) which in turn activates a relay of proteins called the complement cascade. One upshot of this can be to promote tumour growth. From Dambuza and Brown 2019.

How did they do it?

Aykut et al. first used DNA sequencing to look for fungus-specific sequences in the pancreas of humans with PDA and in mouse models of PDA, They’d previously shown that the bacterial load goes up by about 1000-fold in tumours compared with healthy tissue and, lo and behold, they found a similar increase in fungi. Next they tagged strains of fungus with a fluorescent label and showed that the cells could migrate from the gut to the pancreas of mice in under 30 minutes.

They then tracked down a protein called mannose binding lectin (MBL) expression of which is associated with poor survival in human PDA patients. MBL is a ‘serum protein’, meaning that it floats around in blood. This led to the discovery that MBL can bind to the surface of fungal cells and when it does so changes shape to permit activation of a relay of signal proteins called the complement system. This ‘complement cascade’ is part of our immune system, enhancing the capacity of antibodies and phagocytic cells to clear microbes from the circulation.

Jules Bordet was the chap who first showed that something in normal blood plasma could help to kill off bacteria back at the end of the 19th century and, as such, deserves to be better remembered as a famous Belgian.

The complement system is pretty amazing because, whilst it can trigger an immune response against invading pathogens, it can also switch on inflammatory pathways that help cells grow and move around — in other words, give a helping hand to tumours.


I met this word for the first time a few days ago, courtesy of the journalist and author Ann Treneman. You’d think that no piece on fungi would be complete without it but it turns out to have nothing to do with mushrooms: it just means interchangeable or switchable. But hang on! We can squeeze it in by asking a very relevant question: are pancreatic fungi fungible in terms of their capacity to promote cancer? Aykut et al. did just that and the answer was ‘no they’re not.’ One species seems to be particularly abundant in PDA: the genus Malassezia. This was true for both mouse and human tumours and perhaps that shouldn’t surprise us as Malassezia is the most abundant fungal species in mammalian skin, accounting for more than 80% of our skin mycobiome. So it’s Malassezia not other species (e.g., Candida) that has the power to drive cancer.

Spores of the yeast Malassezia

Fungal footnote

In a final exciting experiment Aykut et al. showed that antifungal drugs halted PDA progression in mice and improved the ability of chemotherapy to shrink the tumour. This obviously raises the notion that if we can find ways of shifting the balance of fungal communities or interfering with the link to the complement cascade we might have a completely new line on desperately needed therapies for this disease.


Aykut, B. et al., (2019). The fungal mycobiome promotes pancreatic oncogenesis via activation of MBL. Nature 574, 264–267.

Dambuza, I.M. and Brown, G.D. (2019). Fungi accelerate pancreatic cancer. Nature 574, 184-185.

The Power of Flower


We know we don’t ‘understand cancer’ — for if we did we would at least be well on the way to preventing the ten million annual deaths from these diseases and perhaps even stymieing their appearance in the first place. But at least, after many years of toil by thousands of curious souls, we might feel brave enough to describe the key steps by which it comes about.

Here goes!

Our genetic material, DNA, carries a code of four different units (bases) that enables cells to make twenty-thousand or so different types of proteins. Collectively these make cells — and hence us — ‘work’. An indicator of protein power is that we grow from single, fertilized cells to adults with 50 trillion cells. That phenomenal expansion involves, of course, cells growing and dividing to make more of themselves — and, along the way, a bit of cell death too. The fact that there are nearly eight billion people on planet earth testifies to the staggering precision with which these proteins act.

Nobody’s perfect

As sports fans will know, the most successful captain in the history of Australian rugby, John Eales, was nicknamed ‘Nobody’ because ‘Nobody’s perfect’. Well, you might care to debate the infallibility of your sporting heroes but when it comes to their molecular machinery, wondrous though it is, perfect it is not.

Evidence: from the teeming eight billion there emerges every year 18 million new cancer cases (that’s about one in every 444). And cancers are, of course, abnormal cell growth: cells growing faster than they should or growing at the wrong time or in the wrong place — any of which means that some of the masterful proteins have suffered a bit of a malfunction, as the computer geeks might say.

How can that happen?

Abnormal protein activity arises from changes in DNA (mutations) that corrupt the normal code to produce proteins of greater or lesser activity or even completely novel proteins.

These mutations may be great or small: changes in just one base or seismic fragmentation of entire chromosomes. But the key upshot is that the cell grows abnormally because regulatory proteins within the cell have altered activity. Mutations can also affect how the cell ‘talks’ to the outside world, that is, the chemical signals it releases to, for example, block immune system killing of cancer cells.

Clear so far?

Mutations can change how cells proliferate, setting them free of normal controls and launching their career as tumour cells and, in addition, they can influence the cell’s environment in favour of unrestricted growth.

The latter tells us that cancer cells cooperate with other types of cell to advance their cause but now comes a remarkable discovery of a hitherto unsuspected type of cellular collaboration. It’s from Esha Madan, Eduardo Moreno and colleagues from Lisbon, Arkansas, St. Louis, Indianapolis, Omaha, Dartmouth College, Zurich and Sapporo who followed up a long-known effect in fruit flies (Drosophila) whereby the cells can self-select for fitness to survive.

Notwithstanding the fact that flies do it, the idea of a kind of ‘cell fitness test’ is novel as far as human cells go — but it shouldn’t really surprise us, not least because our immune system (the adaptive immune system) features much cooperation between different types of cell to bring about the detection and removal of foreign or damaged cells.

Blooming science

So it’s been known for over forty years that Drosophila carries out cell selection based on a ‘fitness fingerprint’ that enables it to prevent developmental errors and to replace old tissues with new. However, it took until 2009 before the critical protein was discovered and, because mutant forms of this protein gave rise to abnormally shaped nerve cells that looked like bunches of flowers, Chi-Kuang Yao and colleagues called the gene flower‘.

Cells can make different versions of flower proteins (by alternative splicing of the gene) the critical ones being termed ‘winner’ and ‘loser’ because when cells carrying winner come into contact with cells bearing loser the latter die and the winners, well, they win by dividing and filling up the space created by the death of losers.

The effect is so dramatic that Madan and colleagues were able to make some stunning movies of the switch in cell populations that occured when they grew human breast cancer cells engineered to express different version of flower tagged with red or green fluorescent labels.

Shift in cell populations caused by two types of flower proteins. 

Above are images at time zero and 24 h later of co-cultures of cells expressing  green and red proteins (losers and winners). From Madan et al. 2019.

Click here to see the movie on the Nature website.

Winner takes almost all

The video shows high-resolution live cell imaging over a 24 hour period compressed into a few seconds. Cells expressing the green protein (hFwe1 (GFP)) were co-cultured with red cells (hFwe2 (RFP)). Greens are losers, reds winners. As the movie progresses you can see the cell population shifting from mainly green to almost entirely red, as the first and last frames (above) show.

How does flower power work?

Flower proteins form channels across the outer membrane of the cell that permit calcium flow, and it was abnormal calcium signalling that caused flowers to bloom in Drosophila nerves. It would be reasonable to assume that changes in calcium levels are behind the effects of flower on cancer cells. Reasonable but wrong, for Madan & Co were able to rule out this explanation. At the moment we’re left with the rather vague idea that flower proteins mediate competitive interactions between cells and these determine whether cells thrive and proliferate or wither and die.

Does this really happen in human cancers?

Madan and colleagues looked at malignant and benign human tumours and found that there was more ‘winner’ flower protein in the former than the latter and that ‘loser’ levels were higher in normal cells next to a tumour than further away. Both consistent with the notion that tumour cells express winner and this induces loser in nearby normal cells leading to their death. What’s more they reproduced this effect in mice by transplanting human breast cancer cells expressing winner.

So there we are! After all this time a variant on how cancer cells can manipulate their surroundings to promote the development of tumours. Remarkable though this finding is, in a way that is familiar it’s just the beginning of this story. We don’t know how flower proteins work in giving cancers a helping hand and we don’t know how effective they are. Until we answer those questions it would be premature to try to come up with therapies to block their effect.

But it is a moment to sit back and reflect on the astonishing complexity of living organisms and their continuing capacity to surprise.


Madan, E. et al. (2019). Flower isoforms promote competitive growth in cancer. Nature 572, 260-264.

Yao, C-K., et al., (2009). A synaptic vesicle-associated Ca2+ channel promotes endocytosis and couples exocytosis to endocytosis. Cell 138, 947–960.

What’s New in Breast Cancers?


One of the best-known things about cancer is that it’s good to catch it early. By that, of course, we don’t mean that you should make an effort to get cancer when you’re young but that, if it does arise it’s a good idea to find out before the initial growth has spread to other places in the body. That’s because surgery and drug treatments are very effective at dealing with ‘primary’ tumours — so much so that over 90% of cancer deaths are caused by cells wandering away from primaries to form secondary growths — a process called metastasis — that are very difficult to treat.

The importance of tumour spreading is shown by the figures for 5-year survival rates. Overall in the USA it’s 90% but this figure falls to below 30% for cancers that have metastasized (e.g., to the lungs, liver or bones). For breast cancer the 5-year survival rate is 99% if it is first detected only in the breast (most cases (62%) are diagnosed at this stage). If it’s spread to blood and lymph vessels in the breast the 5-year survival rate is 85%, dropping to 27% if it’s reached distant parts of the body.

What’s the cause of the problem?

The other thing most people know about cancers is that they’re caused by damage to our genetic material — DNA — that is, by mutations. This raises the obvious notion that secondary tumours might be difficult to deal with because they have accumulated extra mutations compared with those in primaries. And indeed, there have been several studies pointing to just that.

Very recently, however, François Bertucci, Fabrice André and their colleagues in various institutes in France, Switzerland and the USA have mapped in detail the critical alterations in DNA that accumulate as different types of breast cancers develop from early tumours to late, metastatic forms. As is the way these days, their paper contains masses of data but the easiest form of the message comes in the shape of ‘violin plots’. These show the spread of results  — in this case the number of mutations per length of DNA.

Metastatic tumours have a bigger mutational load than early tumours. These plots are for one type of breast tumour (HR+/HER2−) and show results for 381 metastases and 501 early tumours. Red dots = median values: these are the “middle” values rather than an average (or mean) and they show a clear upwards shift in burden as early tumours evolve into metastases. From Bertucci et al., 2019.

The violin plots above are for one subtype of breast cancer (HR+/HER2−). Recall that breast tumours are often defined by which of three types of protein can be detected on the surface of the cells: these are ‘receptors’ that have binding sites for the hormones estrogen and progesterone and for human epidermal growth factor. Hence they are denoted as hormone receptors (HRs) and (human) epidermal growth factor receptor-2 (HER2). Thus tumours may have HRs and HER2 (HR+, HER2+) or various receptors may be undetectable. Triple negative breast cancer (TNBC) is an absence of receptors for both estrogen and progesterone and for HER2.

The plots clearly show an increase in mutation load with progression from early to metastatic tumours (on average from 2.4 to 3.8 mutations per megabase of DNA). Looking at individual genes, nine ‘drivers’ emerged that were more frequently mutated in HR+/HER2− metastatic breast cancers (we described ‘driver’ and ‘passenger’ mutations in Taking Aim at Cancer’s Heart).

So what?

For now these findings give us just a little more insight into what goes on at the molecular level to turn a primary into a metastatic tumour. The fact that some of the acquired driver mutations are associated with poor patient survival offers some guidance as to treatment options.

Don’t get carried away

It’s a familiar story in this field: another small advance in piecing together the jigsaw that is cancer. It doesn’t offer any immediate advance in treatment — mainly because most of the nine ‘driver’ genes identified are tumour suppressors — i.e. they normally act as brakes on cell growth. Mutations knock out that activity and at the moment there is no therapeutic method for reversing such mutations. (The other main class of cancer promoters is ‘oncogenes‘ in which mutations cause hyper-activity).

But such steps are important. The young slave girl in Uncle Tom’s Cabin gave us the phrase “grew like Topsy” — meaning unplanned growth. Cancer growth is indeed unplanned and a bit like Topsy but it’s driven by molecular forces and only through untangling these can we begin to design therapies in a rational way.


Bertucci, F. et al. (2019). Genomic characterization of metastatic breast cancers. Nature 569, 560–564.

Secret Army: More Manoeuvres Revealed


I don’t know about you but I find it difficult to grasp the idea that there are more bugs in my body than there are ‘me’ cells. That is, microorganisms (mostly bacteria) outnumber the aggregate of liver, skin and what-have-you cells. They’re attracted, of course, to the warm, damp surfaces of the cavities in our bodies that are covered by a sticky, mucous membrane, e.g., the mouth, nose and especially the intestines (the gastrointestinal tract).

The story so far

Over the last few years it’s become clear that these co-residents — collectively called the microbiota — are not just free-loaders. They’re critical to our well-being in helping to fight infection by other microrganisms (as we noted in Our Inner Self), they influence our immune system and in the gut they extract the last scraps of nutrients from our diet. So maybe it makes them easier to live with if we keep in mind that we need them every bit as much as they depend on us.

We now know that there are about 2000 different species of bacteria in the human gut (yes, that really is 2,000 different types of bug) and, with all that diversity, it’s not surprising that the total number of genes they carry far exceeds our own complement (by several million to about 20,000). In it’s a small world we noted that obesity causes a switch in the proportions of two major sub-families of bacteria, resulting in a decrease in the number of bug genes. The flip side is that a more diverse bug population (microbiome) is associated with a healthy status. What’s more, shifts of this sort in the microbiota balance can influence cancer development. Even more remarkably, we saw in Hitchhiker Or Driver? That the microbiome may also play a role in the spread of tumours to secondary sites (metastasis).

Time for a deep breath

If all this is going on in the intestines you might well ask “What about the lungs?” — because, and if you didn’t know you might guess, their job of extracting oxygen from the air we inhale means that they are covered with the largest surface area of mucosal tissue in the body. They are literally an open invitation to passing microorganisms — as we all know from the ease with which we pick up infections.

In view of what we know about gut bugs a rather obvious question is “Could the bug community play a role in lung cancer?” It’s a particularly pressing question because not only is lung cancer the major global cause of cancer death but 70% lung cancer patients have bacterial infections and these markedly influence tumour development and patient survival. Tyler Jacks, Chengcheng Jin and colleagues at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology approached this using a mouse model for lung cancer (in which two mutated genes, Kras and P53 drive tumour formation).

In short they found that germ-free mice (or mice treated with antibiotics) were significantly protected from lung cancer in this model system.

How bacteria can drive lung cancer in mice. Left: scheme of a lung with low levels of bacteria and normal levels of immune system cells. Right: increased levels of bacteria accelerate tumour growth by stimulating the release of chemicals from blood cells that in turn activate cells of the immune system to release other effector molecules that promote tumour growth. The mice were genetically altered to promote lung tumour growth (by mutation of the Kras and P53 genes). In more detail the steps are that the bacteria cause macrophages to release interleukins (IL-1 & IL-23) that stick to a sub-set of T cells (γδ T cells): these in turn release factors that drive tumour cell proliferation, including IL-22. From Jin et al. 2019.

As lung tumours grow in this mouse model the total bacterial load increases. This abnormal regulation of the local bug community stimulates white blood cells (T cells present in the lung) to make and release small proteins (cytokines, in particular interleukin 17) that signal to neutrophils and tumour cells to promote growth.

This new finding reveals that cross-talk between the local microbiota and the immune system can drive lung tumour development. The extent of lung tumour growth correlated with the levels of bacteria in the airway but not with those in the intestinal tract — so this is an effect specific to the lung bugs.

Indeed, rather than the players prominent in the intestines (Bs & Fs) that we met in Hitchhiker Or Driver?, the most common members of the lung microbiome are Staphylococcus, Streptococcus and Lactobacillus.

In a final twist Jin & Co. took bacteria from late-stage tumours and inoculated them into the lungs of mice with early tumours that then grew faster.

These experiments have revealed a hitherto unknown role for bacteria in cancer and, of course, the molecular signals identified join the ever-expanding list of potential targets for drug intervention.


Jin, C. et al. (2019). Commensal Microbiota Promote Lung Cancer Development via γδ T Cells. Cell 176, 998-1013.e16.

Food Fix For Pharma Failure


If you held a global quiz, Question: “Which biological molecules can you name?” I guess, setting aside ‘DNA‘, the top two would be insulin and glucose. Why might that be? Well, the World Health Organization reckons diabetes is the seventh leading cause of death in the world. The number of people with diabetes has quadrupled in the last 30 years to over 420 million and, together with high levels of blood glucose (sugar), it kills nearly four million a year.

There are two forms of diabetes: in both the level of glucose in the blood is too high. That’s normally regulated by the hormone insulin, made in the pancreas. In Type 1 diabetes insulin isn’t made at all. In Type 2 insulin is made but doesn’t work properly.

When insulin is released into the bloodstream it can ‘talk’ to cells by binding to protein receptors that span cell membranes. Insulin sticks to the outside, the receptor changes shape and that switches on signalling pathways inside the cell. One of these causes transporter molecules to move into the cell membrane so that they can carry glucose from the blood into the cell. When insulin doesn’t work it is this circuit that’s disrupted.

Insulin signalling. Insulin binds to its receptor which transmits a signal across the cell membrane, leading to the activation of the enzyme PIK3. This leads indirectly to the movement of glucose transporter proteins to the cell membrane and influx of glucose.

So the key thing is that, under normal conditions, when the level of blood glucose rises (after eating) insulin is released from the pancreas. Its action (via insulin receptors on target tissues e.g., liver, muscle and fat) promotes glucose uptake and restores normal blood glucose levels. In diabetes, one way or another, this control is compromised.

Global expansion

Across most of the world the incidence of diabetes, obesity and cancer are rising in parallel. In the developed world most people are aware of the link between diabetes and weight: about 90% of adults with diabetes are overweight or obese. Over 2 billion adults (about one third of the world population) are overweight and nearly one third of these (31%) are obese — more than the number who are underweight. The cause and effect here is that obesity promotes long-term inflammation and insulin resistance — leading to Type 2 diabetes.

Including cancer

The first person who seems to have spotted a possible connection between diabetes and cancer was the 19th-century French surgeon Theodore Tuffier. He was a pioneer of lung and heart surgery and of spinal anaesthesia and he’s also a footnote in the history of art by virtue of having once owned A Young Girl Reading, one of the more famous oil paintings produced by the prolific 18th-century artist Jean-Honoré Fragonard (if you want to see it head for the National Gallery of Art in Washington DC). Tuffier noticed that having type 2 diabetes increased the chances of patients getting some forms of cancer and pondered whether there was a relationship between diabetes and cancer.

It was a good question then but it’s an even better one now when this duo have become dominant causes of morbidity and mortality worldwide.

We now know that being overweight increases the risk of a wide range of cancers including two of the most common types — breast and bowel cancers. Unsurprisingly, the evidence is also clear that diabetes (primarily type 2) is associated with increased risk for some cancers (liver, pancreas, endometrium, colon and rectum, breast, bladder).

With all this inter-connecting it’s perhaps not surprising that the pathway by which insulin regulates glucose also talks to signalling cascades involved in cell survival, growth and proliferation — in other words, potential cancer initiators. The central player in all this is a protein called PIK3 (it’s an enzyme that adds phosphate groups (so it’s a ‘kinase’) to a lipid called phosphatidylinositol bisphosphate, an oily, water-soluble component of the plasma membrane). It’s turned out that PIK3 is one of the most commonly mutated genes in human cancers — e.g., PIK3 mutations occur in 25–40% of all human breast cancers.

Signalling pathways switched on by mutant PIK3. A critical upshot is the activation of cell survival and growth that leads to cancer.

Accordingly, much effort has gone into producing drugs to block the action of PIK3 (or other steps in this signal pathway). The problem is that these have worked as cancer treatments either very variably or not at all.

The difficulty arises from the inter-connectivity of signalling that we’ve just described: a drug blocking insulin signalling causes the liver to release glucose and prevents muscle and fats cells from taking up glucose. Result: blood sugar levels rise (hyperglycaemia). This effect is usually transient as the pancreas makes more insulin that restores normal glucose levels.

Blockade of mutant PIK3 by an inhibitor. This blocks the route to cancer but glucose levels rise in the circulation (hyperglycaemia) promoting the release of insulin (top). Insulin can now signal through the normal pathway (bottom), overcoming the effect of the anti-cancer drug. Note that the cell has two copies of the PIK3 gene/protein, one of which is mutated, the other remaining normal.

Is our journey really necessary?

By now you might be wondering whether there is anything that makes grappling with insulin signaling worth the bother. Well, there is — and here it is. It’s a recent piece of work by Benjamin Hopkins, Lewis Cantley and colleagues at Weill Cornell Medicine, New York who looked at ways of getting round the insulin feedback response so that the effect of PIK3 inhibitors could be boosted.

Sketch showing the effect of diet on the potency of an anti-cancer drug in mice. The red line represents normal tumour growth. The black line shows the effect of PIK3 blockade when the mice are on a ketogenic diet: tumour growth is suppressed. On a normal diet the drug alone has only a slight effect on tumour growth. Similar results were obtained in a variety of model tumours (Hopkins et al., 2018).

They first showed that, in a range of model tumours in mice, insulin feedback caused by blockade of PIK3 was sufficient to switch on signalling even in the continued presence of anti-PIK3 drugs. The really brilliant result was that changing the diet of the mice could offset this effect. Switching the mice to a high-fat, adequate-protein, low-carbohydrate (sugar) diet essentially stopped the growth of tumours driven by mutant PIK3 treated with PIK3 blockers. This is a ketogenic (or keto) diet, the idea being to deplete the store of glucose in the liver and hence limit the rise in blood glucose following PIK3 blockade.

Giving the mice insulin after the drug drastically reduces the effect of the PIK3 inhibitor, supporting the idea that that a keto diet improves responses to PIK3 inhibitors by reducing blood insulin and hence its capacity to switch on signalling in tumour cells.

A few weeks prior to the publication of the PIK3 results another piece of work showed that adding the amino acid histidine to the diet of mice can increase the effectiveness of the drug methotrexate against leukemia. Methotrexate was one of the first anti-cancer agents to be made and has been in use for 70 years.

These are really remarkable results — as far as I know the first time diet has been shown to influence the efficacy of anti-cancer drugs. It doesn’t mean that all tumours with mutations in PIK3 have suddenly become curable or that the long-serving methotrexate is going to turn out to be a panacea after all — but it does suggest a way of improving the treatment of many types of tumour.


Hopkins, B.D. et al. (2018). Suppression of insulin feedback enhances the efficacy of PI3K inhibitors. Nature 560, 499-503.

Kanarek, N. et al. (2018). Histidine catabolism is a major determinant of methotrexate sensitivity. Nature 559, 632–636.

Turning Ourselves On


It may seem a bit tasteless but we have to admit that cancer’s a very ‘trendy’ field. That is, there’s always a current fad — something for which either the media or cancer scientists themselves have the hots. Inevitable I suppose, given the importance of cancer to pretty well everyone and the fact that something’s always happening.

If you had to pick the front-running trends of late I guess most of us might go for ‘personalized medicine’ and ‘immunotherapy.’ The first means tailoring treatment to the individual patient, the second is boosting the innate power of the immune system to fight cancer.

Few things are trendier than this blog so it goes without saying that we’ve done endless pieces on these topics (e.g. Fantastic Stuff, Outsourcing the Immune Response, Self-Help – Part 2, bla, bla, bla).

How considerate then of Krijn Dijkstra, Hans Clevers, Emile Voest and colleagues from the Netherlands Cancer Institute to have neatly combined the two in their recent paper.

Simple really

What they did was did was easy — in principle. They grew fresh tumour tissue from patients in dishes in the laboratory. Although it doesn’t work every time, most of the main types of cancer have been grown in this way to give 3D cultures called tumour organoids — tumours-in-a-dish. That’s the ‘personalized’ bit.

Then they took blood from the patient and grew the lymphocytes therein in a dish to expand the T cells that were specific for the patient’s tumour. That’s the ‘‘immuno’ bit.

Growing tumour tissue (from non-small-cell lung cancer (NSCLC) and colorectal cancers [CRC] in culture as tumour organoids. This permits the expansion of T cells from peripheral blood to give an enlarged population of cells that will kill those tumours. From Dijkstra et al. 2018.

And the results?

They were able to show that enriched populations of tumour-reactive T cells could kill tumour organoids and, importantly, that organoids formed from healthy tissue were not attacked by these T cells.

Stained organoids (left) and original tissue (right) from two colorectal cancers (CRC-2 & CRC-5) showing how the organoids grow to have an architecture similar to the original tumour. From Dijkstra et al. 2018.

Their method worked for both bowel tumours and non-small-cell lung cancer but there’s no reason to suppose it can’t be extended to other types of cancer.

Some of their videos showing tumour organoids being chomped up by enriched killer T cells are quite dramatic. Cells labelled green that can be seen in this video are dying.

So there you have it: DIY tumour therapy!


Dijkstra, K.K. et al. (2018). Generation of Tumor-Reactive T Cells
by Co-culture of Peripheral Blood Lymphocytes and Tumor Organoids. Cell 174, 1–13.

Now wash your hands!


You must have spent the last 20 years on a distant planet if you’re unaware that we’re heading for Antibiotic Armaggedon — the rise of “Superbugs”, i.e., bacteria resistant to once-successful medication. Microbes resistant to multiple antimicrobials are called multidrug resistant. It’s a desperate matter because it means trivial infections may become fatal and currently safe surgical procedures may become dangerous.

Time-line of the discovery of different antibiotic classes in clinical use. The key point is that the last antibiotic class to become a successful treatment was discovered in 1987.

What’s the problem?
It’s 30 years since we came up a new class of antibiotics. The golden age launched by Fleming’s celebrated discovery of penicillin is long gone and while the discovery curve has drifted ever downwards since 1960 the bugs have been busy.

Just how busy a bug can be was shown by a large-scale experiment carried out by Roy Kishony and friends. They built a “Mega-Plate” — a Petri Dish 2 ft by 4 ft filled with a jelly for the bacteria to grow in. The bugs were seeded into channels at either end so they would grow towards the middle. The only thing stopping them was four channels dosed with antibiotic at increasing concentrations — 10 times more in each successive channel.

The bugs grow until they hit a wall of antibiotic. There they pause for a think — and, after a bit, an intrepid little group start to make their way into the higher dose of drug. Gradually the number of groups expand until a tidal wave sweeps over that barrier. This is repeated at each new ‘wall’ — four times until the whole tray is a bug fest.

When they pause at each new ‘wall’ they’re not ‘thinking’ of course. They’re just picking up random mutations in their DNA until they are able to advance into the high drug environment. So this experiment is a fantastic visual display of bugs becoming drug-resistant. And it’s terrifying because it takes about 11 days for them to overcome four levels of drug. It’s even more scary in the speeded-up movie as that lasts less than two minutes.

Sound familiar?
It should do as this is a cancer column and readers will know that cancers arise by picking up mutations. To highlight the similarities the picture below is the left-hand half of the bug tray with new colonies shown as linked dots. You could perfectly well think of these as early stage cancer cells acquiring mutations in ‘driver’ genes that push them towards tumour formation.

So that’s pretty scary too and the only good news is that animal cells reproduce much more slowly than bacteria. The fastest they can manage is about 48 hours to grow and divide into two new cells and for many it’s much slower than that. Bugs, on the other hand, can do it in 20 minutes if you feed them enough of the right stuff.

Which is why we don’t all get zonked by cancer at an early age.

The evolution of bacteria on a “Mega-Plate” Petri Dish. The vertical red lines mark the boundaries of increasing antibiotic concentrations. You could equally think of each dot that represents a new bacterial colony being early stage cancer cells acquiring mutations in ‘driver’ genes (white arrows) that push them towards tumour formation. From Roy Kishony’s Laboratory at Harvard Medical School.

Enough of that!
But for once I don’t want to talk about cancer but about a really fascinating piece of work that caught my eye in the journal Cell Reports. It’s by Gianni Panagiotou, Kang Kang and colleagues from The University of Hong Kong and The Hans Knöll Institute, Jena, Germany and it’s all about their travels on the Hong Kong MTR (Mass Transit Railway). This is the network of over 200 km of railway lines with 159 stations that serves the urbanised areas of Hong Kong IslandKowloon, and the New Territories and has a cross- border connection to the neighboring city of Shenzhen in mainland China.

An MTR train on the Tung Chung line that links Lantau Island with Hong Kong Island.

Being scientists of course they weren’t just having a day out. They wanted to know the contents of the microbiome that they and their fellow travellers picked up on the palms of their hands when riding the rails. ‘Microbiome’ means all of the collection of microorganisms — though in practice this is almost entirely bacteria. So they swabbed the palms of volunteers and then threw the full power of modern DNA sequencing and genetic analysis at what they’d scraped off. Or, as they put it: “We conducted a metagenomic study of the Hong Kong MTR system.”

And if you’re thinking it might be possible to take a trip on the Hong Kong Metro without grabbing a handrail or otherwise engaging in what on the London Underground used to be called ‘strap-hanging’ you clearly haven’t tried it!

Hong Kong MTR.


The MTR System and Sampling Procedure. Left: The eight urban lines studied: the Airport Express line and Disneyland Resort branch were excluded. The Central-Hong Kong station and the cross-border rail stations connecting with the MTR and the Shenzhen metro system are labeled. Right: The sampling procedure included handwashing, handrail touching for 30 min and swabbing. From Kang et al. 2018.

Hold very tight please! 

It’s going to become a seriously bumpy ride. The major findings were:

  1. Four groups (phyla) of bacteria dominated: Actinobacteria [51%], Proteobacteria [27%], Firmicutes [11%] and Bacteroidetes [2%]. Followers of this blog will be delighted to spot the last two (B & F) as we’ve met them several times before (in Hitchhiker Or Driver?, Fast Food Fix Focuses on Fibre, Our Inner Self, The Best Laid Plans In Mice and Men, and, of course, in it’s a small world) — that’s how important they are in the context of cancer.
  2. The dominant organism (29% of the community) was P. acnes (one of the Actinobacteria — it’s the bug linked to the skin condition of acne).
  3. Some non-human-associated species (e.g., soil organisms) also popped up that varied enormously in amount from day to day — perhaps because of weather conditions (e.g., humidity).
  4. Variation in the make-up of the microbial communities picked up depended, more than anything else, on the time of day. There was a marked decrease in diversity in afternoon samples compared with those taken in the morning.
  5. Specific species of bacteria associated with individual metro lines. That is, sets of bug types are relatively abundant on a given line compared with all other lines, giving a kind of line-specific signature — though the distinction declines from morning to afternoon. The most physically isolated line, MOS (Ma On Shan), had a greater number of signature species. The MOS runs entirely above ground alongside the Shing Mun Channel, a polluted brackish river, and its ‘signature’ includes bacteria found in sewage.
  6. All of which brings us to bugs with antibiotic resistance genes (ARGs). Across the network 136 ARG families were detected including 24 that are clinically important. Strikingly, lines closer to Shenzhen (ER (East Rail) and MOS) tend to have higher ARG input during the day. Critically, the ER line a.m. signatures become p.m.-enriched in all MTR lines far from Shenzhen — that is, these ARG families spread over the network during the day.

Simplified map of the Hong Kong MTR indicating how antibiotic resistance genes spread during the day from the ER and MOS lines to the entire network. Tetracycline resistance genes: tetA, tetO, tetRRPP and tetMWOS; vancomycin resistance genes: vanC, vanX. From Kang et al. 2018.

These results clearly suggest that the ER line, the only cross-border line linked to mainland China, may be a source of clinically important ARGs, especially against tetracycline, a commonly used antibiotic in China’s swine feedlots. Antibiotics, including tetracycline, can be detected in the soil in the Pearl River Delta area where the cities of Hong Kong and Shenzhen are located.

It should be said that this is by no means the first survey of bugs on rails. Notable ones have looked at the New York and Boston metro systems and they too revealed the potential health risks of the bug communities found on trains and in the stations, including the presence of pathogens and antibiotic resistance. The Boston survey highlighted that different types of materials have surfaces that are preferred by different microbes with high variation in functional capacity and pathogenic potential.

One obvious suggestion from these studies is that world-wide we could do a lot to improve sanitation, e.g., by having hand sanitizer dispensers in all sensible places (at the exits of metro, railway and bike-sharing stations and airports and of course in hospitals). The Hong Kong data are seriously frightening and most people seem blissfully unaware that the invisible world they reveal carries the potential for the destruction of us all.

But, as ever, there’s two sides to the matter. We’ve evolved over millions of years to live with bugs and they with us. However you wash your hands you won’t get rid of every bug and anyway, as what’s-his-name almost says, “They’ll be back!” We all carry around micro-organisms that can be fatal if they get to the wrong place. But, if you’re reasonably fit, there’s a lot to be said for simply following sensible, basic hygiene rules with a philosophy of ‘live and let live.’

Have a nice day commuters, wherever you are!


Kang K., et al. (2018). The Environmental Exposures and Inner- and Intercity Traffic Flows of the Metro System May Contribute to the Skin Microbiome and Resistome. Cell Reports 24, 1190–1202.

Wu, N., Qiao, M., Zhang, B., Cheng, W.D., and Zhu, Y.G. (2010). Abundance and diversity of tetracycline resistance genes in soils adjacent to representative swine feedlots in China. Environ. Sci. Technol. 44, 6933–6939.

Li, Y.W., Wu, X.L., Mo, C.H., Tai, Y.P., Huang, X.P., and Xiang, L. (2011). Investigation of sulfonamide, tetracycline, and quinolone antibiotics in vegetable farmland soil in the Pearl River Delta area, southern China. J. Agric. Food Chem. 59, 7268–7276.

Leung, M.H., Wilkins, D., Li, E.K., Kong, F.K., and Lee, P.K. (2014). Indoor-air microbiome in an urban subway network: diversity and dynamics. Appl. Environ. Microbiol. 80, 6760–6770.

Robertson, C.E., Baumgartner, L.K., Harris, J.K., Peterson, K.L., Stevens, M.J., Frank, D.N., and Pace, N.R. (2013). Culture-independent analysis of aerosol microbiology in a metropolitan subway system. Appl. Environ. Microbiol. 79, 3485–3493.

Afshinnekoo, E., Meydan, C., Chowdhury, S., Jaroudi, D., Boyer, C., Bernstein, N., Maritz, J.M., Reeves, D., Gandara, J., Chhangawala, S., et al. (2015). Geospatial Resolution of Human and Bacterial Diversity with City-Scale Metagenomics. Cell Syst 1, 72–87.

Hsu, T., Joice, R., Vallarino, J., Abu-Ali, G., Hartmann, E.M., Shafquat, A., Du- Long, C., Baranowski, C., Gevers, D., Green, J.L., et al. (2016). Urban Transit System Microbial Communities Differ by Surface Type and Interaction with Humans and the Environment. mSystems 1, e00018–e00016.