Becoming a scientific honey bee

When asked how to address the gap between science and society, Ruth Morgan, a forensic science professor at University College London, responded with an analogy: There are thousands of pollinating species of bee, but only a few can make honey — just as certain scientists can act as diplomats, storytellers and connectors.

“We need to find those people who can transform all that knowledge and insight into honey,” she said. “Honey can go out — honey can be applied and do transformative things.” 

Morgan was speaking at the 2024 World Science Forum which aimed to address the challenges “that prevent the global science–policy–society interface from working at its maximum efficiency.”  A central theme of the meeting was strengthening public trust in science.

Although her field has made significant progress in recent years, Morgan said, the criminal justice system still underuses new forensic knowledge, and this stems from a lack of trust and communication between the scientific community and the public.

“For science to engage, for science to be at the table rather than on tap, we need to have trust,” Morgan said during a roundtable discussion. “And trust is manifested in people, it’s not really in things.”

I attended the 2024 WSF as an excited postdoc with no connections or policy background. When I applied for an invitation to the meeting in Budapest, I wasn’t sure if I’d even get a response. To my surprise, a free registration arrived within hours in my inbox.

Morgan’s call for scientists to go out and “make honey” felt like the first step toward answering a question I’ve contemplated for a long time:  What should my future in science look like?

A microcosm for transformative science

As an undergraduate and Ph.D. student, I worked with Matthew Gentry investigating the basic mechanisms of an inherited childhood epilepsy called Lafora disease. In this rare and invariably fatal disorder, seizures first appear during adolescence, followed by increasingly severe epilepsy, rapid cognitive decline and death, typically before the age of 30.

Lafora patients have a buildup of abnormal carbohydrates, known as Lafora bodies, in most of their tissues, including the brain. We now know that this excess of malformed carbohydrates is what causes the disease.

A serendipitous connection between scientists and a Lafora patient’s family sparked an international Lafora workshop. Every year or two, families, clinicians and basic scientists came together to discuss the latest research, identify potential treatments and bring therapies to the clinic. I attended the inaugural workshop in 2014, presented at the 2016 and 2017 meetings and also participated in 2019.

At these small gatherings with fewer than a hundred people, we could connect face-to-face with basic scientists, industry representatives, clinicians, families of patients and sometimes even the patients themselves. I met parents of children with Lafora disease, I listened to their doctors and I presented my research, explaining precisely how the work I was doing in the lab could help patients in the future.

Now, in 2024, two therapies are in clinical trials for Lafora disease. The first is a small, DNA-like molecule called an antisense oligonucleotide that blocks the production of the abnormal carbohydrate. The other is an enzyme-based drug that directly breaks it down, in much the same way that your body digests the carbohydrates that you eat. My research was important in developing the second therapy. To me, the Lafora community demonstrates the power of building relationships to bring about life-changing science.

Embarking on a quest

As I near the end of my sixth (and final) year of postdoctoral training, I still care deeply about research and the scientific process. However, I want my work to have a broader and more direct impact.

 

I aspire to be one of those honey bees Ruth Morgan talked about. I want to be a connector, a diplomat and a storyteller, bridging scientists and the public.

The WSF educated and inspired me. I returned home with new contacts, new ideas and new resources. Going forward, I have made a commitment to write regularly for the public alongside my research publications. I plan to complete an online course in science diplomacy and attend more events on the topic. I am learning more about science communication and reaching out to organizations to find opportunities (online and in my community) to discuss science in society and how we can improve our scientific systems.

Being a scientific honey bee means seeking knowledge, absorbing it and passing it on to others. Honey bees go from plant to plant, searching for nectar. When they find it, they consume it and pass it to other bees; as it moves through each bee, it transforms into honey.

In my quest to become a scientific honey bee, I will continue to search for knowledge, reach out to others and share information, always with a higher purpose in mind: to apply science for the greater good of humanity.