Birkbeck Science Week 2019: Synthesising Life

Birkbeck holds a Science Week every academic year. In 2019, Science Week was held in late June, and it kicked off with the Department of Biological Sciences' contribution: a lecture by Salvador Tomas intriguingly titled ‘Synthesising Life’. Introducing Salvador, the Executive Dean of the School of Science, Nicholas Keep, explained that he had taken both his degrees at the Universitat de les Illes Balears in his native Balearic Islands, before moving to the gloomier climes of the University of Sheffield for postdoctoral study. He set up his own lab at Birkbeck in 2006, and now holds the position of Senior Lecturer in Chemical Biology in the Institute of Structural and Molecular Biology (ISMB) here.

The lecture was every bit as engaging as its title suggests. He started by asking the question what is life?, and illustrated the answer by comparing a ‘cyberdog’ with the common-or-garden variety. At a basic level, both dog and cyberdog can be thought of as a network of transistors (or cells) that respond to input signals in different ways, but while the cyberdog is programmed to carry out whatever (presumably) menial tasks its owner demands, the dog is programmed for survival. This led to a formalised definition of ‘life’, as ‘a self-sustained chemical system capable of undergoing Darwinian evolution’. Furthermore, if you zoom in hundreds of millions of times, the dog’s equivalent of the cyberdog’s fundamentally uninteresting network of transistors is the bewildering complexity of ‘molecular machines’ inside every living cell. Examples of molecular machines that are studied in the PPS course include ATP synthase and the ribosome.

A cyberdog: Tekno the Robotic Puppy, credit: Toyloverz

The question of ‘how life came to be’ is perhaps almost as old as humanity itself. At the dawn of the scientific age, a few centuries ago, speculations centred on the idea of ‘spontaneous generation’, suggesting that fish might have arisen from water or mice from hay. The development of pasteurisation in the mid-nineteenth century helped disprove this theory, shortly before Darwin published his theory of evolution. We now understand that all living (and extinct) organisms evolved from a simple organism known as LUCA – short for the Last Universal Common Ancestor – but this begs the question: where did LUCA come from? To find a short answer to this question, you need to go back to the kind of conditions that scientists believe to have existed on an early Earth: a chemically rich ‘warm puddle’ of liquid in an oxygen-poor environment, much like those found in underwater volcanoes today.

Biochemically, LUCA would have been a single-celled organism containing a minimum set of biomolecules necessary for life, all coded for by a minimal segment of DNA. For decades, scientists have been trying to recreate the process of ‘abiogenesis’ by providing simple molecules in this type of environment with energy and investigating whether more complex molecules, the ‘building blocks’ for LUCA’s DNA and proteins, might be able to form. So far, it has proved possible to make the basic building blocks of proteins, the amino acids, and even, in some circumstances, to join several amino acids into a short chain, but not to connect hundreds of them to form a complete protein. Nucleic acids, the building blocks of DNA, are proving even more intractable.

Building blocks become biomolecules through a process in which each two units – amino acids or nucleotides – are joined together with the loss of a water molecule. This process requires energy, but the opposite one, in which the bond between the units is broken, can be spontaneous. Salvador used a set of blocks known simply as A, B, C and D to illustrate how the populations of block sets change over time, as combinations such as ‘AB’ are ‘born’ and ‘die’. If AB, for example, is made ‘sticky’ so it attracts more copies of A and B, it becomes ‘autocatalytic’ (that is, it helps form itself) and the AB population burgeons. At least, it does until A or B is depleted, when an ‘extinction event’ occurs. The system becomes more complex with the addition of an energy supply and further building blocks, and it becomes possible to see how collections of units with specialist functions could evolve. Some types would specialise in storing information (the ancestors of nucleic acids) and others in promoting bond formation (the ancestors of proteins).

Building blocks become biomolecules become molecular machines
Top: ATP synthase; Bottom: Bacterial ribosome. From PDB-101 Molecule of the Month .

This would be a resourceful molecular system, capable of building its own building blocks, but it would have one major disadvantage: its survival depends on the proximity of the different types of molecule. If it were in the ‘warm puddle’ of the early Earth, a single rainstorm could blow it away. Keeping the components together requires a third type of biomolecule. Lipids are molecules with a long ‘water-hating’ tail and a short ‘water-loving’ head, and in water they form double layers with the tails pointing towards each other. These lipid bilayers often form spherical vesicles, and any primitive biomolecules trapped inside such a vesicle will stay together come what may.

Vesicles containing both ‘DNA-like’ and ‘protein-like’ molecules can be thought of as ‘protocells’: or, if you like, putative ancestors of the ancestors of LUCA. Salvador explained that his own contribution to the evolving story of synthesising life was in exploring the chemistry inside such protocells. Something like a protocell is almost certain to have existed, and this will have evolved to be better programmed for survival through developing more efficient molecular ways of making use of resources, storing and using energy, and responding to stimuli. Reproducing this process by adding molecular machines and efficient, specialist switches to a blank vesicle or protocell can generate cell-like robots. Initially, these are likely to have a wide variety of useful but still quite mundane functions in, for example, targeted drug delivery, but eventually they might do more: ‘life, but not as we know it’, perhaps?

Salvador ended his talk by asking two questions: can we synthesise life, and if so, should we? Most of his audience agreed with him that the first was ‘not done yet, but seems likely in the near future’. Interestingly, however, a majority thought that it might be too risky to take far.

Rosalind Franklin Lecture 2018: Eva Nogales, electron microscopist

Since 2016, Birkbeck has held an annual lecture named in honour of perhaps the most famous woman scientist ever to work there: Rosalind Franklin, whose extraordinary, meticulous experimental work was a necessary part of solving the structure of DNA. This lecture is part of Birkbeck’s commitment to the Athena SWAN equality initiative, and is it given by a woman scientist distinguished in one of the disciplines represented there.

The 2018 lecture differed from its predecessors in forming part of both Birkbeck’s annual Science Week and the eighth ISMB Symposium. The Institute of Structural Molecular Biology (ISMB) is a centre of excellence, founded in 2003 to promote and integrate multi-disciplinary research in molecular, cell and structural biology in Birkbeck and its much larger neighbour, UCL. It holds a varied programme of events for faculty members, research staff and students; symposia, held in ‘even years’, are intensive conferences, generally held over two days and featuring talks from international research leaders.

This symposium was held over two afternoons on Monday 18 and Tuesday 19 June, with the Rosalind Franklin lecture as the last one on the first day. In planning the symposium, its organisers chose to highlight one technique among all those available for researchers at the ISMB: electron microscopy, as used to study the atomic structures of large protein complexes and ‘molecular machines’. The Institute’s director, Gabriel Waksman, highlighted Birkbeck’s acquisition of a new and very powerful electron microscope – a Titan Krios – in his introduction as ‘something to celebrate’. According to the School of Science Facebook page, Birkbeck’s Department of Biological Sciences is the smallest UK university department to house such a powerful microscope, and it is only through the ISMB that it is able to punch so far above its weight. And the Rosalind Franklin lecturer, Eva Nogales from the University of California in Berkeley, was only one of several distinguished proponents of this technique to present their research during the symposium.

Eva Nogales with Prof. Nicholas Keep, Dean of the Faculty of Science at Birkbeck. Photo © Harish Patel, Birkbeck

Few women have achieved as much in electron microscopy research as Nogales. Following a short introduction by Professor Nicholas Keep, Dean of the Faculty of Science at Birkbeck, she began her Rosalind Franklin lecture with thanks. She paid tribute to two of the distinguished researchers present, Helen Saibil and Ken Holmes, describing Saibil, the Bernal Professor of Structural Biology at Birkbeck, as an ‘inspirational’ pioneering woman in electron microscopy. Holmes, who had given one of the previous talks at the symposium, worked with Rosalind Franklin as a PhD student at Birkbeck in the 1950s and went on to make ground-breaking discoveries about the structure of the muscle protein, actin.

Nogales’ main theme during her lecture was her lab’s efforts to decipher the structures of several large, multi-protein complexes that are involved in the process of gene expression. The different types of cells in our bodies – with a few odd exceptions, such as cancer cells – all contain exactly the same DNA in the chromosomes in the cell nucleus. What makes a brain cell differ from a bone cell or a heart call is how the information carried by the genes on those chromosomes is expressed in the functional molecules, mainly proteins. Only a fraction of the genes in a genome are expressed in a given cell at any particular time. Gene expression is the term given to this incredibly complex and exquisitely sensitive process, which can be divided into two stages expressed simplistically as ‘DNA to RNA’ and ‘RNA to protein’. Work in the Nogales lab focuses on two protein complexes that are involved in the first sub-process, the transcription of the DNA sequences of genes into RNA. These bear the rather cumbersome names of polycomb repressive complex 2 (PRC2) and transcription factor II D (TFIID).

If the DNA in each human chromosome could be stretched out it would measure tens of centimetres in length. It is packed and compressed to fit into the microscopic cell nucleus by winding around histone proteins to form circular units of structure called nucleosomes. Proteins in the ‘transcription machinery’ can only access the DNA to start gene expression if these are loosely packed. PRC2, as its full name implies, represses this process: it does so by adding methyl groups to the alkaline lysine residues of the histones, making the nucleosomes pack more tightly together. The protein complex therefore forms an ‘on-off switch’ for gene expression. Disrupting its function can lead to the uncontrolled cell growth and multiplication that is characteristic of cancer cells and it is therefore a useful target for the design of anti-cancer drugs.

Nogales explained that PRC2 is a very large protein complex and that determining its structure using electron microscopy presented a considerable challenge. The first structures, obtained before the ‘resolution revolution’ in this technique, could only show separate protein molecules as ‘blobs’: later, better structures that revealed the positions of individual atoms proved that these were ‘accurate but not very precise’. The complex is now known to exist in several distinct structural states and to be able to add methyl groups (‘active’) in two of them. The main difference between these is in the position of one helix, which is bent against the rest of the molecule in the ‘compact active’ conformation but straightens away from it in the ‘extended active’ one. PRC2 binds to two protein co-factors in ways that mimic the binding of the flexible ‘tails’ of the histone proteins in methylated and unmethylated forms respectively.

She then showed some even more impressive structures to explain how the complex interacts with nucleosomes. One complex binds between a pair of nucleosomes, and as long as the DNA that links the two is the right length, binding the first nucleosome positions the second so that the right amino acids are brought into the right position in the PCR2 active site for methylation to occur efficiently.

The second complex discussed, TFIID, is active exactly when PRC2 is not, as its presence is necessary to begin the process through which DNA is transcribed into RNA. This begins with the step-by-step assembly of proteins close to the position on the DNA where transcription is due to start, forming a ‘preinitiation complex’. TFIID is the first component of this complex to assemble, and this ‘nucleates’ the complex by recruiting other transcription factors so RNA synthesis can begin. Nogales described distinctive structures of parts of the preinitiation complex obtained by members of her group, finishing by showing some unpublished work on its structure and dynamics that included this vital component. If this fascinating lecture has inspired the many young electron microscopists in the audience as much as Helen Saibil’s work inspired Nogales, then the future of the discipline will be in good – and often female – hands.

This has been cross-posted with minimal alterations from Birkbeck's Events Blog

Molecules that Walk

The Department of Biological Science’s contribution to Science week 2016 kicked off on 11 April with a lecture by Dr Anthony Roberts, a young Principal Investigator who arrived at Birkbeck in 2014. Anthony received his B.Sc. from Imperial College in London and his Ph.D. from the University of Leeds, and spent four years as a postdoc at Harvard in the USA before moving here to start his own research group as a Sir Henry Dale Fellow of the Wellcome Trust and Royal Society.

Anthony began his lecture by explaining that he was going to talk about molecules that have the capacity to produce directed movement – or to ‘walk’ – and their importance for human health. These molecules are all proteins, and the context in which they move is the interior of living cells. Both the proteins he studies, kinesin and dynein, ‘walk’ on a network of highways conceptually not unlike the transport system that we use to move around London. These cellular highways are filaments called microtubules, which, unlike our roads and railway tracks, are able to self-assemble and also to self-destruct.

The ability to move is one of the fundamental properties of life, and scientists and philosophers have been studying it for millennia. Muscles were identified as the organs of movement in antiquity, but it was not until the mid-twentieth century that the molecules involved in muscle contraction could be identified. The Hungarian physiologist Albert Szent-Györgyi discovered the muscle proteins now named actin and myosin using very simple equipment during the Second World War.

These proteins have similarities with kinesin and dynein, although historically they have been easier to study due to their abundance in muscle; actin forms fibrils and the enzyme myosin binds to and ‘walks’ along these filaments. This process, like all movement, requires energy, and this is obtained from the cell’s power source, the small molecule adenosine triphosphate (ATP). The part of the myosin molecule that binds to actin, which is called its head, breaks a phosphate bond in this molecule to liberate energy and power the walking motion; many of these ‘power strokes’ together cause the muscle fibre to contract.

Ideally, we would want to watch this, or any other form of molecular motion, in real time, but this is impossible because molecules are far too small: smaller than the wavelength of light, so they cannot be viewed in a light microscope. Studies of molecular structure require techniques like X-ray crystallography and electron microscopy, both of which have been used to study motor molecules.

However, neither of these techniques can do more than generate still images. Movement can only be inferred by taking lots of snapshots of the molecules at different points during the movement cycle, rather like the earliest movies. We have now built up a complete picture of actin and myosin that is detailed enough for the positions of individual atoms to be seen clearly.

Not all movement in nature, however, uses muscles. Single-celled organisms – the ‘animalcules’ observed by pioneer microscopist Antonie van Leeuwenhoek in the 1670s – have directed movement, as do bacteria, and these have neither muscles nor nervous systems. And directed movement also occurs inside cells. A good example of this is the division of replicated DNA between daughter cells during cell division.

The interior of all cells is a viscous mixture, crowded with molecules; it is possible for small molecules to move from one part of a cell to another through diffusion, but this process would be impossibly slow for larger ones. Motor proteins, on the other hand, can carry ‘cargo’ molecules across cells remarkably quickly and efficiently. Motor proteins can traverse a distance of 0.1 mm – the length of a large animal cell – in two minutes, which in terms of lengths per second is approximately three times faster than a car.

Both the motor proteins studied in Anthony’s lab, kinesin and dynein, ‘walk’ along microtubules inside cells. These filaments typically form with one end towards the centre of the cell, and its nucleus, and the other towards the cell periphery, and the motor proteins move in opposite directions: dynein towards the nucleus, and kinesin towards the cell edge.

Any kind of directed movement by molecules is challenging for several reasons. Motor molecules have no equivalent of our nervous systems for controlling movement, and they are far too small to be held on their tracks by gravity; instead, they grip the microtubules using chemical forces. They experience negligible inertia, and are constantly buffeted by other molecules in the cell. It would therefore be catastrophic for the whole of a walking molecule to leave its path at once.

The structure and function of conventional kinesin are now fairly well understood. It consists of two identical protein chains, and each chain has two major domains separated by a short linker. The larger domain of each chain coils together to form a single long stalk; the smaller domain is globular and attaches to the microtubule, so the molecule looks rather like a single leg with two feet. Each of the feet is an enzyme that generates the energy for the motion by breaking down ATP to form ADP and release a phosphate group, and it cycles between ATP-bound, ADP-bound and empty states.

The step between ADP-bound and empty is a bottleneck that can be relieved when the foot attaches to the microtubule in a particular position, ensuring that the whole molecule moves in the correct direction. The trailing foot is released from the microtubule and the cycle begins again once ATP has bound to the front foot, triggering a conformational change in the whole molecule.

The core of kinesin is similar in structure to myosin, suggesting that these two proteins have a common ancestor. The other microtubule-bound motor protein, dynein, has a different origin. Although we still know comparatively little about it, it was actually the first of the microtubule-bound motor proteins to be discovered: this was in the 1960s, when it was found as the protein that generates the force that allows protozoa and sperm cells to swim. Anthony’s group, however, has been studying how it functions inside cells to move ‘cargo’ – often nucleic acids or other proteins – from the edges of the cell towards its interior. It also helps to pull the duplicated genetic material between the two halves of the cell during cell division.

Dynein is a much larger and more complex molecule than the other motor proteins. Its structure, like those other proteins, has several components: in this case, a stalk, a ring and a tail, with a linker between the stalk and the ring. Much of what we know about this large structure has come from electron microscopy, and more recently X-ray crystallography.

The structure of dynein; the stalk is shown in yellow and the linker in magenta.

Anthony’s group and others have developed a model in which the main mechanical element is the linker, which bends and straightens to displace the cargo-bound end of the structure along the microtubule in the direction of travel. The image shown here is a still from an animated model of how dynein generates movement, which remains speculative in places and is helping to stimulate new experiments in these areas. It is also incomplete, as it only shows one half of the molecule: we do know that dynein, like kinesin, is a biped, but exactly how its ‘feet’ are coordinated remains at the frontier of our knowledge.

Anthony ended his talk by discussing some actual and potential medical applications of studies of walking molecules. Some commonly used anti-cancer drugs, including taxol, work by stabilising microtubules to prevent motion and therefore stop cancer cells from dividing. Molecules that interact with motor proteins are also being studied as potential treatments for neurodegenerative diseases and for some types of heart disease. One such compound is a myosin activator, omecamtiv mecarbil, which is showing promise as a treatment for heart failure. And we are likely to discover further applications as we learn more about these fascinating walking molecules.

Crystallography: from Chocolate to Drug Discovery

Birkbeck has already established lecture series in honour of some of its most distinguished alumni. Until 2016, however, Rosalind Franklin – co-discoverer of the DNA structure and perhaps the most widely recognisable of its ‘famous names’ – was missing from the list of honourees. This gap has now been filled; the annual Rosalind Franklin lecture forms part of the college’s Athena SWAN programme and will always be given by a distinguished woman scientist. And fittingly, the inaugural lecture, which was part of Science Week 2016, was devoted to Rosalind Franklin’s own discipline, crystallography. Elspeth Garman, Professor of Molecular Biophysics at Oxford University, gave an entertaining and illuminating lecture to a large audience that included Rosalind’s sister, the author Jenifer Glynn.

Garman began her lecture by showing a short video that she had produced for OxfordSparks.net that used a ‘little green man’ to illustrate the method of X-ray crystallography that is used to obtain molecular structures from crystals. The rest of the lecture, she said, would simply go through that process more slowly. She started by showing some beautiful examples of crystals. All crystals are formed from ordered arrays of molecules. They can be enormous, such as crystals of the mineral selenite in a cave in Mexico that measure over 30’ long or too small to be visible with the naked eye.

In the early decades of crystallography, structures could only be obtained from crystals of the smallest, simplest molecules: the first structure of all, published in 1913 by the father-and-son team of W.H. and W.L. Bragg, was of table salt. When they were jointly awarded the Nobel Prize for Physics in 1915, the younger Bragg was a 25-year-old officer in the trenches on the Western Front. His record as the youngest Nobel Laureate was unbroken until Malala Yousafzai’s Peace Prize in 2014.

The Braggs’ discoveries paved the way for studies of the structures of many, many substances: including the chocolate of the lecture title. Few of the audience can have known that chocolate exists in six different crystal forms, or that only one of these (Form V) is good to eat. The process of ‘tempering’ – a series of heating and cooling steps – is used to ensure that it solidifies in the correct form.

Garman then moved on to talk about her own field of protein crystallography. Proteins are the ‘active’ molecules in physiology, and they are formed from long, linear strings of 20 different ‘beads’ (actually, small organic molecules known as amino acids). Chemists can quite easily find out the sequence of these beads in a protein, but it is impossible to work out from this the way that the string will fold up into a definite structure ‘like a piece of wet spaghetti’. And it is this structure that places different units with different chemical properties on the surface or in the interior of the protein, or near each other, and that therefore determines what the protein will do.

Protein crystallography only became technically possible in the mid-twentieth century, and even then it was a painfully slow and complex process that could only be used to study the smallest, simplest proteins. Dorothy Hodgkin, also a professor at Oxford, won her Nobel Prize in Chemistry in 1964 for the structures of two biologically important but fairly small molecules: penicillin, with 25 non-hydrogen atoms and vitamin B12, with 80. She is perhaps better known for solving the structure of insulin, the protein that is missing or malfunctioning in diabetics. This has 829 non-hydrogen atoms; in contrast, the 2009 Chemistry Nobel Prize was awarded for the structure of the ribosome, the large (by molecular standards) ‘molecular machine’ that synthesises proteins from a nucleic acid template. The bacterial ribosome used for the Nobel-winning structural studies is well over 300 times larger than insulin, with over a quarter of a million atoms.

Protein structures are not only beautiful to look at and fascinating to study, but they can be useful, particularly for drug discovery. Many useful drugs have already been designed at least partly by looking at a protein structure and working out the kinds of molecule that would bind tightly to it, perhaps blocking its activity. Some viral proteins have been particularly amenable to this approach. Rosalind Franklin did some of the first research into virus structure when she was based at Birkbeck, towards the end of her tragically short life, and her student Aaron Klug cited her inspiration in his own Nobel lecture in 1982. X-ray crystal structures were used in the design of the anti-flu drugs Relenza™ and Tamiflu™ and of HIV protease inhibitors, and more recently still structures of the foot and mouth virus are helping scientists develop new vaccines for tackling this potentially devastating animal disease. The foot-and-mouth virus structure even made the front page of the Daily Express.

The equipment that Dorothy Hodgkin and her contemporaries used to solve protein structures in the 1960s and 1970s looks primitive today. Now, almost every step of protein crystallography has been automated. Powerful beams of X-rays generated by synchrotron radiation sources, such as the UK’s Diamond Light Source in Oxfordshire, allow structures to be determined quickly from the smallest crystals. It is even possible to control some of these machines remotely; Garman has operated the one at Grenoble from her sitting room. Yet there is one step that has changed remarkably little. It is still almost as difficult to get proteins to crystallise as it was in the early decades. Researchers have to select which of a large number of combinations of conditions (temperature, pH and many others) will persuade a protein to form viable crystals. Guesswork still plays a large part and some researchers seem to be ‘better’ at this than others: Garman adds the acronym ‘GMN’ or ‘Grandmother’s maiden name’ to her list of conditions to reflect this.

Yet, with every step other than crystallisation speeded up and automated beyond recognition, the trickle of new structures in the 70s and even 80s has become a torrent. Publicly available structures are stored online in the Protein Data Bank, which started in 1976 with about a dozen structures: it now (May 2016) holds over 118,000. Protein crystallography as a discipline is thriving, but there are many challenges ahead. We are only now beginning to tackle the 70% or so of human proteins that are only stable when embedded in fatty cell membranes and are therefore insoluble in water. It is possible to imagine a time when it is possible to solve the structure of a single molecule, with no more need for time-consuming crystallisation. And, hopefully, women scientists will play at least as important a role in the second century of crystallography as they – from Quaker Kathleen Lonsdale, who developed important equations while jailed for conscientious objection during World War II, through Franklin and Hodgkin to Garman and her contemporaries – have in the first.

Protein Machines in the Molecular Arms Race

Birkbeck’s Science Week 2015 was held from Monday 23 to Thursday 26 March and included three evenings of public talks by senior researchers. The first two lectures, on the Tuesday, were given by two of the college’s most distinguished women scientists: Helen Saibil from the Department of Biological Sciences and Karen Hudson-Edwards from Earth and Planetary Sciences; they were billed together as a ‘Women in Science Evening’.

The lectures were all introduced by the Dean of the Faculty of Science, Nicholas Keep who described Saibil, a close colleague, as “our most eminent female scientist”. She came to Birkbeck from Canada via a PhD at King’s College London under the supervision of Nobel laureate Maurice Wilkins and post-doctoral work at Oxford.

Since arriving here in the 1980s she has built up an internationally renowned structural biology lab, focusing in particular on the technique of electron microscopy. She has been a Fellow of the Royal Society since 2006 and of the Academy of Medical Sciences since 2009.

Saibil began her lecture by explaining that proteins can act as little machines, performing mechanical tasks that are essential for the maintenance of life. Her group has been interested for some time in proteins that can punch holes in the walls of cells. This allows the cell contents to leak out in a damaging process known as lysis, and it also allows toxins to enter the cells. These proteins can therefore be thought of as powerful weapons, and they are deployed on both sides of a ‘molecular arms race’: by pathogens and by the immune systems of humans and other animals.

Most soluble proteins fold into a single stable structure that tries, as far as possible, to keep their hydrophobic (“water-hating”) parts – the side chains of certain amino acids – in the interior of the protein, with the hydrophilic (“water-loving”) side chains on the outside, in contact with the watery environment inside or outside cells.

Pore-forming proteins, however, have a ‘Jekyll and Hyde’ like identity: they can form two distinctly different shapes, one as individual, soluble molecules and the other when they associate with each other into membrane-bound rings to form cylindrical pores. These structures, and the conformational change between them, are remarkably similar in proteins from bacteria and from the immune system.

Pore-forming toxins have been found in types of bacteria that are responsible for some deadly human diseases, including meningitis and pneumonia. The structure of a monomeric form of one of these proteins in solution was first solved in 1998, using X-ray crystallography. However, large complexes of many protein molecules are more readily solved by electron microscopy, particularly when those complexes are embedded in membranes.

In 2005 Saibil and her group described structures of the pore-forming toxin pneumolysin from Streptococcus pneumoniae, in complex with a model cell membrane. They found that the proteins formed two distinctly different ring-shaped structures. Initially, they formed into a ring sitting on top of the membrane, which was termed the pre-pore; then they changed shape to burrow part of each protein deep into the membrane and form the pore itself. Each monomer in the pre-pore had a structure that was similar to that of the molecule in solution, but they underwent large structural changes to form the pore.

Schematic illustration of how suilysin, a bacterial cholesterol-dependent cytolysin, drills holes in cell membranes. Image © Adrian Hodel, London Centre for Nanotechnology

Most structures solved by electron microscopy are at lower resolution than those solved by X-ray crystallography, and it is not possible to trace the positions of individual atoms at lower resolutions (e.g. worse than 3 A). Saibil and her colleagues were able to interpret the structure of the proteins making up the pore by fitting pieces of the X-ray structure of the isolated molecule into their electron density.

They found a dramatic change in structure, with the tall, thin protein structure collapsing into an arch and a helical region stretching out to form a long, extended beta hairpin. It is these hairpins that join together to form the walls of the pore. The process of pore forming therefore has three stages: firstly the toxin molecules bind to the surface of their target cells, then they associate into the circular pre-pores and finally they change shape in a concerted manner, punching holes in the cell membranes by ejecting a disc of membrane, letting other toxins in and cell contents out.

Saibil then turned the focus of her talk from attack by bacteria to the human immune system’s defence. Natural killer (NK) cells are specialised lymphocytes (white blood cells) that kill virally-infected and cancerous cells in the bloodstream. They kill on contact with their target cells by releasing a toxic protein into those cells that stimulates those target cells to commit suicide in a process known as programmed cell death or apoptosis. We have only recently learned that the mechanism through which the NK cells work is very similar to the mechanism of the bacterial pore-forming toxins.

Natural killer cells express a protein called perforin that has a similar structure in solution to the bacterial pneumolysin. Although there is very little sequence similarity between these proteins – there is only one amino acid conserved throughout all the known bacterial and vertebrate proteins of this family, a glycine at a critical position for the conformational change – the structures are similar enough to suggest that the proteins all once had a common ancestor.

Saibil and her colleagues used electron microscopy to discover that this protein forms a pore through a similar mechanism to pneumolysin: the helical region that unfolds into the beta hairpin to form the pore forms the core of the molecular machine and is largely unchanged between the structures. There are some differences between the structures, however; in particular, there is no need for the perforin structure to ‘collapse’ as the molecule has ‘arms’ that are long enough to form the hairpin and punch the hole without bending into an arch.

The mechanism through which the NK cells kill their target cells is now quite well understood. When the two cells come into contact they form a temporary structure called an immune synapse that allows the pore to form and proteases called granzymes, which induce apoptosis, to enter the target cells. This YouTube video illustrates the natural killer cells’ mechanism of action, and this one shows a detailed view of the immune synapse. Other, similar proteins have been identified in oyster mushrooms; these form more rigid structures that are easier to work with. Saibil’s group and their collaborators have been able to solve the structure of this protein in intermediate stages of pore formation and are beginning to gain an understanding of exactly how it unfolds.

The pore of the oyster mushroom protein pleurotolysin, a member of the pneumolysin family. Image © Natalya Lukoyanova and Helen Saibil, from Lukoyanova et al., PLoS Biology 13:e1002049

Mutations in perforin that prevent it from functioning cause a rare disease called haemophagocytic lymphohistiocytosis, which is almost invariably fatal in childhood. Understanding the mechanism of action of this important family of protein ‘weapons’ in both attack and defence may help find a cure for this devastating condition, as well as for some commoner disorders of the immune system and important infectious diseases.

This post is cross-posted from the Birkbeck Events blog.

PPS students can learn much more about electron microscopy by taking the second-year module Techniques in Structural Molecular Biology to complete the MSc.

Science Week 2014: Birkbeck and the History of Crystallography

Science Week at Birkbeck in 2014 featured two lectures on Department of Biological Sciences, both presented on 2 July. One of these was a double act from two distinguished emeritus professors and Fellows of the College, Paul Barnes and David Moss. Remarkably, they both started their working lives at Birkbeck on the same day – 1 October 1968 – and so had clocked up over 90 years of service to the college between them by Science Week 2014.

The topic they took was a timely one: the history of the science of crystallography over the past 100 years. UNESCO has declared 2014 to be the International Year of Crystallography in recognition of the seminal discoveries that started the discipline, which were made almost exactly 100 years ago; a number of the most important discoveries of that century were made by scientists with links to Birkbeck.

The presenters divided the “century of crystallography” into two, with Barnes speaking first and covering the first 50 years. In giving his talk the title “A History of Modern Crystallography”, however, he recognised that crystals have been observed, admired and studied for many centuries. What changed at the beginning of the last century was the discovery of X-ray diffraction. Wilhelm Röntgen was awarded the first-ever Nobel Prize for Physics for his discovery of X-rays in 1896, but it was almost two decades before anyone thought of directing them at crystals. The breakthroughs came when Max von Laue showed that a beam of X-rays can be diffracted by a crystal to yield a pattern of spots, and the father-and-son team of William Henry and William Lawrence Bragg showed that it was possible to derive information about the atomic structure of crystals from their diffraction patterns. These discoveries also solved – to some extent – the debate about whether X-rays were particles or waves, as only waves diffract; we now know that all electromagnetic radiation, including X-rays, can be thought of as both particles and waves

Von Laue and the Braggs were awarded Nobel Prizes for Physics in 1914 and 1915 respectively, and between 1916 and 1964 no fewer than 13 more Nobel Prizes were awarded to 18 more scientists for discoveries related to crystallography. Petrus Debye, who won the Chemistry prize in 1936, showed how to quantify the thermal motion of atoms as vibrations within a crystal. He also invented one of the first powder diffraction cameras, used to obtain diffraction patterns from powders of tiny crystallites. Another Nobel Laureate, Percy Bridgman, studied the structures of materials under pressure: it has been said that he would “squeeze anything he could lay his hands on”, often up to intense pressures.

Scientists and scientific commentators often argue about which of their colleagues would have most deserved to win the ultimate accolade. Barnes named three who, he said, could easily have been Nobel Laureates in the field of crystallography. One, Paul Ewald, was a theoretical physicist who had studied for his PhD under von Laue in Munich, and the other two had strong links with Birkbeck. JD “Sage” Bernal was Professor of Physics and then of Crystallography here; he was famous for obtaining, with Dorothy Crowfoot (later Hodgkin) the first diffraction pattern from a protein crystal, but his insights into the atomic basis of the very different properties of carbon as diamond and as graphite were perhaps even more remarkable. He took on Rosalind Franklin, whose diffraction patterns of DNA had led Watson and Crick to deduce its double helical structure, after she left King’s College, and she did pioneering work on virus structure here until her premature death in 1958.

Barnes ended his talk and led into Moss’s second half-century with a discussion of similarities between the earliest crystallography and today, as now, you only need three things to obtain a diffraction pattern: a source of X-rays, a crystalline sample, and a recording device; the differences all lie in the power and precision of the equipment used. He demonstrated this with a “symbolic demo” that ended when he pulled a model structure of a zeolite out of a large cardboard box.

Paul Barnes demonstrates the basic principles of X-ray crystallography using a large cardboard box. Photo © Harish Patel and Ruben Zamora, Department of Psychological Sciences, Birkbeck

David Moss then took over to describe some of the most important crystallographic discoveries from the last half-century. His talk concentrated on the structures of large biological molecules, particularly proteins, and he began by explaining the importance of protein structure. All the chemistry that is necessary for life is controlled by proteins, and knowing the structure of proteins enables us to understand, and potentially also to modify, how they work.

Even the smallest proteins contain thousands of atoms; in order to determine the position of all the atoms in a protein using crystallography you need to make an enormous number of measurements of the positions and intensities of X-ray spots. The process of solving the structure of a protein is no different from that of solving a small molecule crystal structure, but it is more complex and takes much more time. Very briefly, it involves crystallising the protein; shining an intense beam of X-rays on the resulting crystals to produce diffraction patterns, and then doing some extremely complex calculations. The first protein structures, obtained without the benefit of automation and modern computers, took many years and sometimes even decades.

Thanks to Bernal’s genius, energy and pioneering spirit, Birkbeck was one of the first institutes in the UK to have all the equipment that was needed for crystallography. This included some of the country’s first “large” computers. One of the first electronic stored-program computers was developed in Donald Booth’s laboratory here in the 1950s. In the mid-1960s the college had an ATLAS computer with a total memory of 96 kB. It occupied the basements of two houses in Gordon Square, and crystallographers used it to calculate electron density maps of small molecules. Protein crystallography only “took off” in the 1970s with further improvements in computing and automation of much of the experimental technique.

Today, protein crystallography can almost be said to be routine. The first step, crystallising the protein, can still be an important bottleneck, but data collection at powerful synchrotron X-ray sources is extremely rapid and structures can be solved quite easily with user-friendly software that runs on ordinary laptops. There are now over 100,000 protein structures freely available in the Protein Data Bank (PDB), and about 90% of these were obtained using X-ray crystallography. The techniques used to obtain the other 10,000 or so, nuclear magnetic resonance and electron microscopy, are more specialised.

Moss ended his talk by describing one of the proteins solved in his group during his long career at Birkbeck: a bacterial toxin that is responsible for the disease gas gangrene (PDB 1CA1). This destroys muscle cells by punching holes in their membranes, and its victims usually have to have limbs amputated to save their lives. Knowing the structure has allowed scientists to understand how this toxin works, which is the first step towards developing drugs to stop it. But you can learn even more about how proteins work if you also understand how they move. Observing and modelling protein motion in “real time” still poses many challenges for scientists as the second century of crystallography begins.

Structure of alpha-toxin, the key Clostridium perfringen toxin in gas gangrene. Image from the PDB.

Science Week 2013: Structures of Sodium Channels

Since 2010, Birkbeck College has held a week of lectures, most often in the spring, to highlight some of the research carried out in the School of Science. This year’s speakers included Professor Bonnie Wallace from the Department of Biological Sciences, who presented a fascinating and accessible lecture on the structures of sodium channels, and what these new structures are already teaching us human health, and particularly about some rare neurological diseases.

Professor Nicholas Keep, Dean of the Faculty of Science (and director of the MSc in Structural Molecular Biology and the second-year option TSMB) introduced Professor Wallace. She has been at Birkbeck for about twenty years and now directs the department’s impressive research work on the structural biology of membrane ion channels. You will learn a lot about membrane proteins in general in section 11 of PPS; they are ubiquitous, are responsible for the transport of both chemicals and signals into and out of cells, and form some of the most important drug targets. They are also, as Wallace made very clear in her talk, some of the most challenging of all proteins for structural biologists to work with.

All cell membranes are semi-permeable, which means that some substances can pass across them easily while others are excluded. Ions, which are charged, are generally excluded by the hydrophobic (“water hating”) membranes. This could be something of a problem, as ion transport into and out of cells is an essential physiological process. Ion channels are evolution’s solution to this problem: proteins embedded in membranes that allow ions to selectively enter and leave cells.

Much of Wallace’ work over the last ten years has focused on the structures of voltage gated sodium channels. These open to allow sodium ions to enter cells, and close to prevent them from doing so, in response to changes in potential across the membrane, and they are found throughout nature. Small molecules can bind to these channels, holding them either open or closed; some of these are severely toxic, but others are important drugs for cardiac arrhythmias, epilepsy, and pain.

Human voltage gated sodium channels are composed of a single protein chain, divided into four similar domains. Each of these domains has six transmembrane helices, four of which (labelled S1-S4) act as a voltage sensor while the other two (S5 and S6) fold together to form an eight-helix pore. This protein has so far proved impossible to crystallise, and the breakthrough involved a bacterial protein. Similar proteins are found in the membranes of some species of bacteria, enabling them to live in “extreme” environments that are rich in salt. Their structures are similar to those of the human protein, but in this case the channel is built up from a complex of four identical proteins, each of which is homologous to a single domain of the human channel.

Although this simpler bacterial protein proved easier to work with than the human protein, it was still not at all easy. It took over ten years for Professor Wallace and her group to isolate the gene, clone and purify the protein, obtain crystals and finally solve the structure of the pore. The structure was finally solved using the powerful X-rays generated at Diamond, the UK’s only synchrotron radiation source located near Harwell in Oxfordshire.

These channels exist in three different structural forms: “open”, “closed” and “inactivated”. Many years before the detailed structures were solved Wallace and her group had used a biophysical technique, circular dichroism (CD) spectroscopy, to examine the conformational changes that occurred when mammalian and bacterial channels switched from one state to the other. As always, however, the full atomic-crystal structures yielded very much more information.

The first of these structures to be solved was a slightly strange one: the pore was held in the “closed” conformation that prevents sodium ions from entering the cell, although the voltage sensor was in the structure associated with the “active” state (PDB code 3RVY). The “top” part of this structure, towards the extracellular membrane surface, has a hydrophobic surface, and the pore in this part of the membrane acts as a selectivity filter to allow sodium ions in while keeping others, including potassium and calcium ions, out. Wallace and her group were the first to solve the structure of a fully open channel and showed that the upper portion of the channel containing the selectivity filter was virtually unchanged. The conformational change associated with opening and closing the channel occurs at the internal or cytoplasmic side of the protein (PDB 4F4L). When the pore closes, a small turning motion of the “bottom” part of the helical bundle causes the diameter of the pore to shrink, in a motion rather like the closure of a camera lens; the resulting channel is too small for sodium ions to pass through, so any inside the pore become trapped there.

Two subunits of the bacterial sodium channel pore in the “open” conformation, shown as a ribbon structure

All voltage gated sodium channels have a domain at the C-terminal end of the molecule that is necessary for channel activity but that was not visible in any of the crystal structures. Wallace and her group looked at this part of the molecule in the bacterial protein using a particularly powerful form of CD spectroscopy called synchrotron radiation CD spectroscopy that she had pioneered, and showed that each subunit had an extremely flexible protein chain separating the pore from a C-terminal helix. Using this information, the group have proposed a novel mechanism for channel opening in which the conformational change in the pore is enabled by these helices oscillating up and down.

Two subunits of the bacterial sodium channel pore in the “open” conformation, shown as a ribbon structure

The final part of Wallace’ talk was devoted to the role of sodium channels in health and disease, and as a drug target. A few unfortunate individuals have mutations in a type of channel that is involved in the response to painful stimuli. If this channel is jammed open, patients experience a constant, burning pain termed erythromelalgia, most commonly in their hands and feet. Wallace showed that an equivalent mutation from phenylalanine to valine at the base of one of the bacterial protein subunits caused the channel to open just enough for ions to pass through. There are also people in whom these channels are jammed in the closed position, and they feel no pain, even if they walk on hot coals. It may one day be possible for drugs based on our knowledge of these structures to be designed to ease both these conditions.

Commemorating World TB Day: Drugs from Plants

This post was written first for the Birkbeck College events blog and is re-posted here with permission.

World TB Day is held on 24 March every year, to mark the day in 1882 when Robert Koch, one of the fathers of microbiology, first announced that he had discovered the cause of tuberculosis (TB) – the bacterium now known as Mycobacterium tuberculosis (link to the TB proteome page in PPS section 5). Over 125 years since its discovery, and despite billions of dollars of investment in drug discovery, this bacterium is still a killer. The World Health Organisation estimates that about two billion people are infected with latent tuberculosis; in 2010, the last year for which full figures are available, over eight million people became ill with active tuberculosis, and 1.4 million people died from the disease. Two factors help make TB particularly deadly: it often occurs in people infected with the HIV virus, where it is one of the major causes of death, and drug resistant forms are becoming more common. In January 2012, Nature reported the identification in India of so-called “totally drug resistant” (TDR) tuberculosis, resistant to all anti-TB drugs in general use.

 Image of Mycobacterium tuberculosis bacteria

Photo credit: Janice Carr, Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, USA

In 2012 at Birkbeck, World TB Day coincided with the start of the College’s annual Science Week. Dr Sanjib Bhakta, head of the Mycobacteria Research Laboratory in the Department of Biological Sciences, organised a well-attended symposium on tuberculosis and its treatment. Besides two scientific presentations, the symposium featured a short video, Tuberculosis: The Real Story, highlighting the views of people affected by TB in the UK, and a panel discussion led by the grassroots volunteer organisation Results UK on some of the political challenges raised by tuberculosis.

Both science lectures focused on plants as a source of potential new drugs for tuberculosis. Professor Franz Bucar from the University of Graz in Austria highlighted the extreme chemical diversity of compounds that could be extracted from plants, particularly as compared to those found in the average synthetic compound library. Plants have always existed alongside their own microbial pathogens and have evolved natural antibiotics to protect themselves. Our ancestors, before the dawn of scientific medicine, used plant extracts to treat infectious disease, often quite successfully. The sub-discipline of ethnomedicine involves “mining” these traditional or historical remedies for pure chemicals that can be developed as, or modified into, drugs.

Bucar described a European herb, elecampane or Inula helenium, which is known to have been used to treat lung disease in the sixteenth century. He explained how a complex mixture of natural products derived from this plant had been tested against mycobacteria. Compounds found to have anti-mycobacterial activity were extracted and purified. Other plants have also yielded useful lead compounds; extracts of bark from a small tree with the Latin name of Berchemia discolor have even been shown to inhibit multi-drug resistant strains of Mycobacterium tuberculosis at useful concentrations.

Discovering antibacterial products in plant extracts, however, is only a first step towards drug discovery. Even when natural products like these compounds are found to be selective for bacterial over human cells, it is necessary to discover their mechanism of action; to modify them to optimize their activity; and, since plant sources are often scarce and extraction processes costly, to determine methods of synthesizing them in the laboratory.

The second scientific presentation was given by Dr. Bhakta himself and described current work in Birkbeck’s Mycobacteria Research Laboratory in searching for potential drugs for TB. These are needed not only to combat resistant forms of the bacteria but to improve current treatment regimens for “standard”, drug-sensitive TB. This requires a combination of four drugs to be taken for two months followed by two drugs for another four months, and many patients, particularly poorer and less well educated ones, fail to complete such a long and complex regimen. This in turn can lead to the development of further resistant strains.

Ideally, new drugs are required that target proteins not targeted by existing drugs, as resistance will be harder to develop. Mycobacteria have extremely complex cell walls, unlike those of other types of bacteria; they are essential for the bacteria to survive, and the enzymes used to synthesise them have no equivalents in mammalian genomes. These enzymes, therefore, have many of the characteristics of excellent drug targets.  Bhakta and his group have been exploring ways to inhibit the synthesis of the peptidoglycan that is one of the most important constituents of that cell wall. This molecule has been described as the bacterium’s “Achilles heel”, but no drugs targeting its synthesis have yet entered the clinic.

Mycobacteria synthesise peptidoglycan via a series of enzymes known as ligases, each of which adds a new link to the growing peptidoglycan chain. Bhaka’s group has focused on one of these ligases, termed MurE. This enzyme is essential for the bacterium to survive and it is conserved in all Mycobacterium tuberculosis strains. Working in collaboration with Professor Nick Keep, also in the Department of Biology, Bhakta solved the structure of MurE (PDB 2XTA) and showed it to have an active site that could in theory, at least, be occupied, and blocked, by a relatively small, “drug-like” molecule. He and his co-workers are now searching libraries of natural products for compounds that might inhibit this enzyme. They have identified promising MurE inhibitors from plants endemic to both Colombia and China, and are synthesizing analogues of these compounds for further testing.

It is unlikely that the next generation of anti-tuberculosis drugs will include any unchanged natural products. It is extremely likely, however, that natural products will yield the “scaffolds” on which these desperately needed drugs may be built, and perhaps one of these will be generated from within Bucar’s or Bhakta’s groups.