Whenever an academic receives the Nobel Prize, the university where the individual works basks in the glory of an outstanding achievement.
Such was the case recently, when two professors associated with the University of Pennsylvania (Penn) did precisely this with the 2023 prize in medicine or physiology.
Drew Weissman and Katalin Kariko were recognised for their ground-breaking work that "fundamentally changed our understanding of how mRNA interacts with the immune system" and "enabled the development of effective mRNA vaccines against Covid-19". And how many of us have received several doses of an mRNA vaccine over the course of the Covid pandemic? It is hardly surprising that a Nobel Prize would be in the offing.
But there is a twist in this story. Weismann’s side is straightforward, but Kariko’s side is very different.
Initially hired in 1989 as an adjunct professor and researcher, she was demoted in 1995 on the grounds that her mRNA research was too risky and did not attract enough grant funding. Her tenacity was such that she continued her work with Weismann until 2013, when she left her senior research position at Penn to serve as vice-president at BioNTech (that with Pfizer manufactured the Covid-19 vaccine). Penn had refused to reinstate her to a tenure track position.
Ironically, on the announcement of the Nobel Prize, the university congratulated Kariko and Weismann, calling them Penn’s historic mRNA vaccine research team. Kariko, though, had left the university as a researcher 10 years previously.
There are many lessons to learn from this salutary series of events. Did money come into the decision-making at Penn? Was she disadvantaged as a female and an immigrant from Eastern Europe? She appears to have been an outsider and was certainly not appreciated for what she had to offer.
While these events are far removed from Otago, their relevance should not be overlooked. We like to think we can predict which areas of scholarship are worth supporting and which are not. And yet great care is required here. When financial considerations are paramount, it is tempting to back those capable of getting large grants and dismiss those unable to do so.
This is not unreasonable and yet what about those with exciting ideas that may or may not flourish? Are we prepared to support these even though they may yield neither financial nor scholarly rewards? Have we become so risk-averse that we reject the staff whose ideas are "on the edge"?
And what applies to obtaining funding also applies to getting papers published in high-impact journals leading to large numbers of citations. There is virtue in both these, as the last thing we want is to promote mediocrity. But how is the university treating its academic staff in the face of financial constraints? It appears that Penn treated Kariko badly because her research was embryonic and was not recognised by journal editors or by institutional promotion committees.
Of course, we all get things wrong, but it is important to reflect on any factors that may have precipitated what in hindsight is a sorry tale.
This brings me back to the current Otago situation. Who is best placed to recognise the potential of individuals’ scholarly work? I would suggest it is those within the general disciplinary area, and not those many layers of bureaucracy removed from the workface. The reason is simple; understanding the ideas and their context is paramount, along with a willingness to accept risks. We don’t always back winners, but a healthy environment is one in which exciting dimensions are encouraged and actively supported.
Any research-based university should be in the business of nurturing big ideas and backing the academic staff with these ideas. Moreover, a university’s direction needs to be informed by academic staff conversant with the cutting-edge priorities within their areas of expertise.
The immediate challenge for Otago is how it conducts the management of change exercises currently being undertaken or contemplated. What indicators are in place to ensure — as far as attainable — that enterprising and intellectually exciting staff will be protected, even if their full flowering has yet to be realised? Also, outstanding scholars should be protected even when their ideas do not fit neatly into the corporate direction of the university. There should be no place for easy decisions based on short-term goals.
Remember Katalin Kariko and the Nobel Prize; one gets the impression she was not the darling of Penn’s leaders.
— Gareth Jones is emeritus professor of anatomy at the University of Otago.
