Who would have thought that cancer research pioneer , PhD, had another, more rustic, pioneering side to him?
During an exclusive interview with 鶹ý, the much-decorated molecular biologist expressed great pride in the 1,200 square-foot stick-frame cabin he'd built by hand over the years in the woods of New Hampshire, as well as an accompanying gazebo and other wooden structures.
In fact, the man widely known for his discoveries of the first and the first confessed that if he hadn't become a scientist, he might have considered a career in carpentry. He said he was also very much committed to gardening and compiling his family's genealogy, which he has traced back to 1675 in Westphalia, Germany.
As a young boy whose original language was German (his parents fled Nazi Germany) and who had to lose an accent, Weinberg was intrigued by all things mechanical, and spent time with his maternal grandfather who repaired sewing machines in the family's basement.
Two of his most useful courses in grade school were woodshop and mechanical drawing, he said, noting how they later helped in developing skills for his avocation and vocation.
In 1976, before he'd even received tenure at , where he has spent nearly all his professional career, he bought a plot of land "as an act of faith" in New Hampshire and started building the first section of his cabin over the next two years, before adding two more wings and a porch during the next decade or so.
Weinberg said that he was hard-pressed to prove it, but he wondered whether some of the same neural circuitry that explained his interest in carpentry and physical structures somehow helped him think through biological problems.
Now 74, Weinberg said he has no plans to slow down and that he fears the loneliness and isolation of retirement.
Earned and Unearned Runs
Weinberg began studying in 1977 leading to his seminal discovery of the first cellular in mammalian cells in 1979, which he said was "an earned run" because of the hard, feverish work involved in identifying, isolating, and cloning it over the years.
However, he termed his subsequent discovery of the first in 1986 as "an unearned run," since he credited that find as having fallen into his lap thanks to the enthusiasm of , MD, PhD.
"Steve wanted to clone the retinoblastoma gene and didn't know much about molecular biology. I was amused by it but didn't know if it could be done," he said, adding that Friend was undeterred and began working with a colleague across the river at who had already done some rough chromosomal mapping of the Rb gene.
According to Weinberg, the gene was isolated within six months through "some strokes of luck, which in this case, favored the prepared mind."
"I encouraged Steve and gave him advice, but he is the architect of isolating the retinoblastoma gene and should get the credit even though it happened on my watch in my lab," he explained.
Weinberg has spent much of his life at MIT, where he is a founding member of the , professor of biology, and director of the .
A Pittsburgh native, he applied to MIT for his undergraduate work because a family friend had gone there. At first Weinberg intended to study medicine until he learned that "doctors have to stay up all night seeing patients." Since he preferred sleeping he switched majors his sophomore year to biology, a subject he had omitted in high school.
For the past two decades he and , PhD, have been co-teaching introductory biology at MIT. Teaching is part of the ethic at MIT and it is not considered honorable or acceptable not to teach, Weinberg said, noting that teaching is the "best way to sharpen one's mind and mouth especially when explaining complex concepts of science."
Ironically, when he took that same course in 1961 he received a "D," the disclosure of which always draws applause from his current students, according to Weinberg.
Following graduation he continued his studies at MIT, noting that his grades probably weren't good enough for other PhD programs, but at least the faculty at MIT knew him, he said.
Stint in Alabama
But after one year in the graduate program he took a year off to head south to teach at , the historically black liberal arts college in Tuscaloosa, Ala. It was 1965, in the midst of the Civil Rights movement, and Weinberg spent his weekends carrying rice and flour to tent cities housing sharecroppers who had been evicted from their land for registering to vote.
He said that he was not a willful activist but was rather living his convictions and saw himself as "providing useful logistical support."
However, Weinberg's stay in Alabama came to an end when , who would become chairman of the , "put his hand on my shoulder, and said, 'Bob, I think what you are doing now is getting a little too political,' Weinberg recalled.
He returned to MIT and received his doctorate three years later, followed by two 18-month post-docs at the in Israel and the in La Jolla, Calif. He said he was very fortunate that he was exposed to the nascent field of molecular biology while in Cambridge.
While at Salk, future Nobel laureate , MD, paid Weinberg a visit and didn't ask him but told him that he was going to be part of the MIT cancer center Luria was founding.
At MIT, Weinberg was a research associate to , PhD, who would receive the Nobel Prize a few years later for discovering . One of the two other recipients that year in 1975 was one of Weinberg's mentors at Salk, , MD.
Working with Baltimore, Weinberg began to explore retroviruses in his own lab, which eventually led to Weinberg's discovery that normal cells can become cancerous through exposure to chemical carcinogens through gene transfer, proving that cancer is a genetic disease and marking the scientific highlight of his career in 1979.
Over the years, Weinberg has continued his lab work, received numerous awards (including the National Medal of Science, Keio Medical Science Prize, and Breakthrough Prize in Life Sciences), and published, among many papers and books, the seminal paper (with , PhD, in 2000), "," as well as the textbook, , and two more general-interest works, and .
Recently, Weinberg had a setback when several of his papers were . He blamed a junior member of his lab for using "inappropriate methods for summarizing and presenting data" that Weinberg did not question at the time.
He told 鶹ý that within a day of realizing there was an issue, he told the director of the Whitehead Institute that he had grave doubts about the papers, but that it took months before the "machinery of retraction was finally manifested in the journals in which his papers were published."
Weinberg added that he has often mentioned and discussed with colleagues the strong dependence researchers have on those they work with.
"It was a painful and unpleasant interlude in my career -- the only time in 40 years that I have been duped -- and it certainly did not lend credibility to the work of my lab," he said. Still, he noted, his lab has continued to publish in topflight journals, and the experience "did not shake even a little my trust in those who work with me and their integrity."
Basic Science's Primacy
Weinberg has long been outspoken about the vital importance of basic science, noting that most innovative science and creative ideas have occurred in small groups that collaborate with others when it's advantageous and don't collaborate when it isn't.
He is not a fan of the current trend of funding large consortia research efforts that are often micromanaged by granting agencies or supervisors, and often don't encourage innovation and creativity.
He said that he would probably have joined the recent had he not been abroad at the time, but added that he thought the overall effort might have been diminished by certain scientific subgroups pushing specific agendas.
More than a decade ago he acks in the basic sciences that could lead to a lost generation of researchers and that has subsequently resulted in a "palpable decrease in the quality of students going into biomedical basic research."
He had few words of encouragement regarding the current administration's attitude toward science, and expressed concern over similarities he sees between today's political environment and the one that forced his family to escape from Germany in 1938.
He is also deeply worried about the future of biomedical research in this country due to, among other things, a shortfall of native-born talent as well as the less-than-welcoming environment for foreign-born researchers.
During last month's annual meeting in Washington, D.C., Weinberg asked how many of those attending his lecture were from abroad, and told them that American science would only be a "faint shadow of what it would have been" if they had not come here.
He said that they were critically needed and should continue attending scientific meetings and working in laboratories in the U.S.
"Without you our science would be nothing. You are welcome here with open arms," he said, eliciting a round of applause perhaps reminiscent of those heard in the MIT auditorium housing his introductory biology class.