Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

 

Thus Neil Sedaka, the American pop songster back in the 60s. He was crooning about hearts of course but since then we’ve discovered that for our genetic hearts — our DNA — breaking up is not that tough and indeed it’s quite common.

A moving picture worth a thousand words

When I’m trying to explain cancer to non-scientists I often begin by showing a short movie of a cell in the final stages of dividing to form two identical daughter cells. This is the process called mitosis and the end-game is the exciting bit because the cell’s genetic material, its DNA, has been duplicated and the two identical sets of chromosomes are lined up in the middle of the cell. There ensues a mighty tug-of-war as cables (strands of proteins) are attached to the chromosomes to rip them apart, providing a separate genome for each new cell when, shortly after, the parent cell splits into two. When viewed as a speeded-up movie it’s incredibly dramatic and violent — which is why I show it because it’s easy to see how things could go wrong to create broken chromosomes or an unequal division of chromosomes (aneuploidy). It’s the flip side if you like to the single base changes (mutations) — the smallest damage DNA can suffer — that are a common feature of cancers.

In Heir of the Dog we showed pictures of normal and cancerous chromosomes that had been tagged with coloured markers to illustrate the quite staggering extent of “chromosome shuffling” that can occur.

Nothing new there

We’ve known about aneuploidy for a long time. Over 20 years ago Bert Vogelstein and his colleagues showed that the cells in most bowel cancers have different numbers of chromosomes and we know now that chromosomal instability is present in most solid tumours (90%).

Knowing it happens is one thing: being able to track it in real time to see how it happens is another. This difficulty has recently been overcome by Ana C. F. Bolhaqueiro and her colleagues from the Universities of Utrecht and Groningen who took human colorectal tumour cells and grew them in a cell culture system in the laboratory that permits 3D growth — giving rise to clumps of cells called organoids.

Scheme representing how cells grown as a 3D clump (organoid) can be sampled to follow chromosomal changes. Cells were taken from human colon tumours and from adjacent normal tissue and grown in dishes. The cells were labelled with a fluorescent tag to enable individual chromosomes to been seen by microscopy as the cells divided. At time intervals single cells were selected and sequenced to track changes in DNA. From Johnson and McClelland 2019.

Genetic evolution in real time

As the above scheme shows, the idea of organoids is that their cells grow and divide so that at any time you can select a sample and look at what’s happening to its DNA. Furthermore the DNA can be sequenced to pinpoint precisely the genetic changes that have occurred.

It turned out that cancer cells often make mistakes in apportioning DNA between daughter cells whereas such errors are rare in normal, healthy cells.

It should be said that whilst these errors are common in human colon cancers, a subset of these tumours do not show chromosomal instability but rather have a high frequency of small mutations (called microsatellite instability). Another example of how in cancer there’s usually more than one way of getting to the same end.

Building bridges …

The most common type of gross chromosomal abnormality occurs when chromosomes fuse via their sticky ends to give what are called chromatin bridges (chromatin just means DNA complete with all the proteins normally attached to it). Other errors can give rise to a chromosome that’s become isolated — called a lagging chromosome, it’s a bit like a sheep that has wandered off from the rest of the flock. As the cell finally divides and the daughter cells move apart, DNA bridges undergo random fragmentation.

… but where to …

Little is known about how cells deal with aneuploidy and the extent to which it drives tumour development. This study showed that variation in chromosome number depends on the rate at which chromosomal instability develops and the capacity of a cell to survive in the face of changes in chromosome number. More generally for the future, it shows that the organoid approach offers an intriguing opening for exploring this facet of cancer.

Reference

Bolhaqueiro, A.C.F. et al. (2019). Ongoing chromosomal instability and karyotype evolution in human colorectal cancer organoids. Nature Genetics 51, 824–834.

Lengauer, C. et al., (1997). Genetic instability in colorectal cancers. Nature 386, 623-627.

Johnson, S.C. and McClelland, S.E. (2019). Watching cancer cells evolve. Nature 570, 166-167.

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I Know What I Like

 

I guess most of us at some time or other will have stood gazing at a painting for a while before muttering ‘Wow, that’s awesome’ or words to that effect if we’re not into the modern argot. Some combination of subject, style and colour has turned our crank and left us thinking we wouldn’t mind having that on our kitchen wall.

Given the thousands of years of man’s daubing and the zillions of forms that have appeared from pre-historic cave paintings through Eastern painting, the Italian Renaissance, Impressionism, Dadaism and the rest to Pop Art, it’s amazing that everyone isn’t a fanatic for one sort or another. The sane might say the field’s given itself a bad name by passing off tins of baked beans, stuff thrown at a canvas and unmade beds as ‘art’ but, even so, it seems odd that it remains a minority obsession.

Can science help?

Science is wonderful, as we all know, but the notion that it might arouse the collective artistic lust seems fanciful. Nevertheless, unnoticed by practically everyone, our vast smorgasbord of smears has been surreptitiously joined over the last 30 years by a new form: an ever-expanding avalanche of pics created by biologists trying to pin down how animals work at the molecular level. The crucial technical development has been the application of fluorescence in the life sciences: flags that glow when you shine light on them and can be stuck on to molecules to track what goes on in cells and tissues. The pioneer of this field was Roger Tsien who died, aged 64, in 2016.

Because this has totally transformed cell biology we’ve run into lots of brilliant examples in these pages — recently in Shifting the Genetic Furniture, in Caveat Emptor and John Sulston: Biologist, Geneticist and Guardian of our Heritage and in the use of red and green tags for picking out individual types of proteins that mark mini-cells within cells in Lorenzo’s Oil for Nervous Breakdowns.

To mark the New Year this piece looks at science from a different angle by focussing not on the scientific story but on the beauty that has become a by-product of this pursuit of knowledge.

Step this way: entrance free

So let’s take a stroll through our science gallery and gaze at just a few, randomly selected works of art.

  1. Cells grown in culture:

This was one of the first experiments in my laboratory using fluorescently labelled antibodies, carried out by a student, Emily Hayes, so long ago that she now has a Ph.D., a husband and two children. The cells are endothelial cells (that line blood vessels). Blue: nuclei; green: F-actin; red: Von Willebrand factor, a protein marker for endothelium.

 

  1. Two very recent images taken by my colleague Roderik Kortlever of a senescent mouse fibroblast and of mouse breast tissue:

 

 

 

 

 

 

3. Waves of calcium in firing neurons:

One of my fondest memories is helping to do the first experiment that measured the level of calcium within a cell, carried out with my colleague the late Roger Tsien and two other friends. I only grew the cells: Roger had designed and made the molecule, quin2. We didn’t know it at the time but Roger’s wonder molecule was the first of many intracellular ‘reporters.’ Roger shared the 2008 Nobel Prize in Chemistry for his discovery and development of the green fluorescent protein with organic chemist Osamu Shimomura and neurobiologist Martin Chalfie.

This wonderful video of a descendant of quin2 in nerve cells was made in Dr. Sakaguchi’s lab at Iowa State University.

 

4. Calcium wave flooding a fertilized egg: Taro Kaneuchi and colleagues at the Tokyo Metropolitan University:

Click for a time-lapse movie of an egg cell that has been artificially stimulated to show the kind of calcium change that happens at fertilization. In this time-lapse movie the calcium level reaches a maximum signal intensity after about 30 min before gradually decreasing to the basal level.

 

5. The restless cell (1):

This movie shows how protein filaments in cells can continuously break down and reform – called treadmilling. Visualised in HeLa cells using a green fluorescent protein that sticks to microtubules (tubular polymers made up of the protein tubulin) by HAMAMATSU PHOTONICS.

 

6. The restless cell (2):

This movie shows how mitochondria (organelles within the cell) are continuously changing shape and moving within the cell’s interior (cytosol). Red marks the mitochondria; green DNA within the nucleus. HAMAMATSU PHOTONICS.

 

7. Cell division:

Pig kidney cells undergoing mitosis. Red marks DNA (nucleus); green is tubulin: HAMAMATSU PHOTONICS.

 

8. DNA portrait of Sir John Sulston by Marc Quinn commissioned by the National Portrait Gallery:This image looks a bit drab in the present context but in some ways it’s the most dramatic of all. John Sulston shared the 2002 Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine with Sydney Brenner and Robert Horvitz for working out the cell lineage of the roundworm Caenorhabditis elegans (i.e. how it develops from a single, fertilized egg to an adult). He went on to sequence the entire DNA of C. elegans. Published in 1998, it was the first complete genome sequence of an animal — an important proof-of-principle for the Human Genome Project that followed and for which Sulston directed the British contribution at the Sanger Centre in Cambridgeshire, England. The project was completed in 2003.

The portrait shows colonies of bacteria in a jelly that, together, carry all Sulston’s DNA. This represents DNA cloning in which DNA fragments, taken up by bacteria after insertion into a circular piece of DNA (a plasmid), are multiplied to give many identical copies for sequencing.

 

9. “Brainbow” mice by Tamily Weissman at Harvard University:

The science behind this astonishing image builds on the work of Roger Tsien. Mice are genetically engineered to carry three different fluorescent proteins corresponding to the primary colours red, yellow and blue. Within each cell recombination occurs randomly, giving rise to different colours. The principle of mixing primary colours is the same as used in colour televisions.  In this view individual neurons in the brain (specifically a layer of the hippocampus) project their dendrites into the outer layer. Other magnificent pictures can be seen in the Cell Picture Show.

It’s certainly science – but is it art?

A few years ago the Fitzwilliam Museum in Cambridge staged Vermeer’s Women, an exhibition of key works by Johannes Vermeer and over thirty other masterpieces from the Dutch ‘Golden Age’. I tried the experiment of standing in the middle of each room and picking out the one painting that, from a distance, most caught my amateur eye. Funny thing was: not one turned out to be by the eponymous star of the show! Wondrous though Vermeer’s paintings were, the ones that really took my fancy were by Pieter de Hooch, Samuel van Hoogstraten and Nicolaes Maes, guys I’d never heard of.

Which made the point that you don’t need to be a big cheese to make a splash and that in the new Dutch Republic of the 17th century, the most prosperous nation in Europe, there was enough money to keep a small army of splodgers in palettes and paint. Skillful and incredibly patient though these chaps were, they simply used the tools available to paint what they saw in the world before them — as for the most part have artists down the ages.

But hang on! Isn’t that what we’ve just been on about? Scientists applying enormous skill and patience in using the tools they’ve developed to visualize life — to image what Nature lays before them. So the only difference between the considerable army of biological scientists around the world making a new art form and the Old Masters is that the newcomers are unveiling life — as opposed to the immortalizing a rather dopy-looking aristocrat learning to play the virginal or some-such.

Controversial?

Not really. Let’s leave the last word to Roger Tsien. In our final picture there are eight bacterial colonies each expressing a different colour of fluorescent protein arranged to grow as a San Diego beach scene in a Petri dish. It became the logo of Roger’s laboratory.

Caveat Emptor

 

It must be unprecedented for publication of a scientific research paper to make a big impact on a significant sector of the stock market. But, in these days of ‘spin-off’ companies and the promise of unimaginable riches from the application of molecular biology to every facet of medicine and biology, perhaps it was only a matter of time. Well, the time came with a bang this June when the journal Nature Medicine published two papers from different groups describing essentially the same findings. Result: three companies (CRISPR Therapeutics, Editas Medicine and Intellia) lost about 10% of their stock market value.

I should say that a former student of mine, Anthony Davies, who runs the Californian company Dark Horse Consulting Inc., mentioned these papers to me before I’d spotted them.

What on earth had they found that so scared the punters?

Well, they’d looked in some detail at CRISPR/Cas9, a method for specifically altering genes within organisms (that we described in Re-writing the Manual of Life).

Over the last five years it’s become the most widely used form of gene editing (see, e.g., Seeing a New World and Making Movies in DNA) and, as one of the hottest potatoes in science, the subject of fierce feuding over legal rights, who did what and who’s going to get a Nobel Prize. Yes, scientists do squabbling as well as anyone when the stakes are high.

Nifty though CRISPR/Cas9 is, it has not worked well in stem cells — these are the cells that can keep on making more of themselves and can turn themselves in other types of cell (i.e., differentiate — which is why they’re sometimes called pluripotent stem cells). And that’s a bit of a stumbling block because, if you want to correct a genetic disease by replacing a defective gene with one that’s OK, stem cells are a very attractive target.

Robert Ihry and colleagues at the Novartis Institutes for Biomedical Research got over this problem by modifying the Cas9 DNA construct so that it was incorporated into over 80% of stem cells and, moreover, they could switch it on by the addition of a drug. Turning on the enzyme Cas9 to make double-strand breaks in DNA in such a high proportion of cells revealed very clearly that this killed most of them.

When cells start dying the prime suspect is always P53, a so-called tumour suppressor gene, switched on in response to DNA damage. The p53 protein can activate a programme of cell suicide if the DNA cannot be adequately repaired, thereby preventing the propagation of mutations and the development of cancer. Sure enough, Ihry et al. showed that in stem cells a single cut is enough to turn on P53 — in other words, these cells are extremely sensitive to DNA damage.

Gene editing by Cas9 turns on P53 expression. Left: control cells with no activation of double strand DNA breaks; right: P53 expression (green fluorescence) several days after switching on expression of the Cas9 enzyme. Scale bar = 100 micrometers. From Ihry et al., 2018.

In a corresponding study Emma Haapaniemi and colleagues from the Karolinska Institute and the University of Cambridge, using a different type of cell (a mutated line that keeps on proliferating), showed that blocking P53 (hence preventing the damage response) improves the efficiency of genome editing. Good if you want precision genome editing by risky as it leaves the cell vulnerable to tumour-promoting mutations.

Time to buy?!

As ever, “Let the buyer beware” and this certainly isn’t a suggestion that you get on the line to your stockbroker. These results may have hit share prices but they really aren’t a surprise. What would you expect when you charge uninvited into a cell with a molecular bomb — albeit one as smart as CRISPR/Cas9. The cell responds to the DNA damage as it’s evolved to do — and we’ve known for a long time that P53 activation is exquisitely sensitive: one double-strand break in DNA is enough to turn it on. If the damage can’t be repaired P53’s job is to drive the cell to suicide — a perfect system to prevent mutations accumulating that might lead to cancer. The high sensitivity of stem cells may have evolved because they can develop into every type of cell — thus any fault could be very serious for the organism.

It’s nearly 40 years since P53 was discovered but for all the effort (over 45,000 research papers with P53 in the title) we’re still remarkably ignorant of how this “Guardian of the Genome” really works. By comparison gene editing, and CRISPR/Cas9 in particular, is in its infancy. It’s a wonderful technique and it may yet be possible to get round the problem of the DNA damage response. It may even turn out that DNA can be edited without making double strand breaks.

So maybe don’t rush to buy gene therapy shares — or to sell them. As the Harvard geneticist George Church put it “The stock market isn’t a reflection of the future.” Mind you, as a founder of Editas Medicine he’d certainly hope not.

References

Ihry, R.J. et al. (2018). p53 inhibits CRISPR–Cas9 engineering in human pluripotent stem cells. Nature Medicine, 1–8.

Haapaniemi, E. et al. (2018). CRISPR–Cas9 genome editing induces a p53-mediated DNA damage response. Nature Medicine (2018) 11 June 2018.

Spray Painting Cancer

I’m pretty certain that anyone reading this will be fully aware that one of the biggest problems in cancer is spotting the blighters. We have, of course, X-ray detection (as in mammography), CTs and MRI scans, all so familiar we need not bother to define them, and there’s also a variety of sampling methods for specific cancers (e.g., the Pap test for cervical cancer). But, useful though all these are, the plain fact of the matter is that none are ideal and in particular the pictures created by imaging methods are very limited in sensitivity. Put another way, they won’t pick something up until it is quite large – a centimeter in diameter – meaning that the abnormal growth is already quite advanced.

Cunning Chemistry

Needless to say, much inspiration and perspiration is being applied to this matter and what has been really exciting over the last ten years or so is the way very smart chemists are collaborating with clinicians to come up with new ways of looking at the problem. One of these clever tactics is being developed in the University of Tokyo using a different type of imaging ‘reporter’ that signals its presence by fluorescing. Fluorescence occurs when a molecule absorbs light and becomes ‘excited’ before relaxing back to its ‘ground state’ by giving off a photon. Fluorescent molecules (fluorophores) are much used in biology because the background signal is often very low so the high signal-to-noise ratio gives excellent sensitivity.

Spray Paint scheme

The cell-surface enzyme GGT converts the small molecule  gGlu-HMRG to a fluorescent form (HMRG) that is then taken up by the cell. GGT is only found on tumor cells so they light up and normal cells do not

Fortunately we don’t need to know how the chemists did it – merely to say that Yasuteru Urano and his colleagues came up with a small molecule (called gGlu-HMRG for short) that does not give off light until a small fragment is chopped off its end, whereupon it changes shape: this flips the switch that turns on fluorescence. The cutting step needs an enzyme that is found on the surface of various cancer cells but not in normal tissue (GGT for short).

Joining Forces

To show that there was real mileage in their idea they followed the time-honored blue-print of cancer research, showing first that it works on tumor cells grown in the lab (and, equally important, that it doesn’t highlight normal cells), before moving to mouse models of ovarian tumors. The later is where chemists meet clinicians because an endoscope is required (quite a small one) – a flexible tube for looking inside the body – devices now so sophisticated that they can incorporate a fluorescence camera.

In the final synthetic step the cunning chemists formulated a spray-on version of their probe molecule so that it can be dispensed during endoscopy or surgery – a bit like an underarm deodorant. Now it’s easy: find suspect tissue, give it a squirt of gGlu-HMRG, wait a few minutes and see if it lights up. The answer is, of course, that in their ovarian cancer model the spray-on graffiti lights up within 10 minutes of sticking to a tumor cell and can detect clumps of cells as small as 1 millimeter in diameter – a terrific advance in terms of sensitivity. The brief time taken for the signal to be visible after the probe has been applied means that within the same procedure it could be used to guide surgeons in removing small tumor masses.

The Tokyo system is not the only one under development. My colleague Andre Neves at the Cambridge Cancer Centre, another of these fiendishly clever chemists, is working on a parallel line using different fluorophores that can be topically applied to the lining of the intestine. The goal here is, of course, the early detection of colon tumors. Yet other approaches use molecules that accumulate preferentially in tumor cells and respond to light in the near-infrared region of the spectrum (800 nm to 2500 nm wavelength, compared to just under 500 nm for gGlu-HMRG), giving an even better signal-to-noise ratio.

This is, as Mr. Churchill might have pointed out, not even the beginning of the end of this story. But it is one more small and innovative step forward. Not all cancers even of the same type will be detectable by a given probe because they vary so much in the genes they express but the ingenuity of the chemists gives hope that a substantial panel of ever more sensitive reporters will emerge. It is also true that endoscopy is unlikely to gain widespread popularity as a routine screening method. However, these advances, moving us to detection at ever earlier stages may become very powerful as a follow-up test, combined with the capacity for simultaneous treatment, when tumor cells have been detected in more comfortable screens, for example as circulating cells in small blood samples, an immensely exciting prospect to which we will return in a later episode.

 References

Urano, Y., Masayo Sakabe, Nobuyuki Kosaka, Mikako Ogawa, Makoto Mitsunaga, Daisuke Asanuma, Mako Kamiya, Matthew R. Young, Tetsuo Nagano, Peter L. Choyke, and Kobayashi, H. (2011). Rapid Cancer Detection by Topically Spraying a γ-Glutamyltranspeptidase–Activated Fluorescent Probe. Science Translational Medicine 3, 110ra119.

http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/22116934

Shi, C. (2012). Comment on “Rapid Cancer Detection by Topically Spraying a γ-Glutamyltranspeptidase–Activated Fluorescent Probe. Science Translational Medicine 4, 121le1.

http://stm.sciencemag.org/content/4/121/121le1.long