Boneheads and Brainiacs

Heroes and Scoundrels of the Nobel Prize in Medicine

Moira Dolan

• Publisher: Quill Driver Books
• Year: 2020
• eBook ISBN: 9781610353687
• Topic: Technology & Engineering
• Subtopic: Medicine Biographies
• Index: Technology & Engineering

Even the greatest minds in medicine have been terribly, terribly wrong.

The inventor of the lobotomy won a Nobel prize in medicine for destroying his patients' brains. Another Nobel laureate thought malaria cured syphilis. The discoverer of anaphylactic shock also researched the spirit world and ESP. A pioneer of organ transplants was an ardent eugenicist, while the founder of sports physiology heroically spoke out against Nazism.

Boneheads and Brainiacs profiles the winners of the Nobel Prize in Medicine from 1901 to 1950—a surprisingly diverse group of racists, cranks, and opportunists, as well as heroes, geniuses, and selfless benefactors of humanity. Forget all the ivory tower stereotypes of white-coated doctors finding miracle cures. Boneheads and Brainiacs reveals the messy human reality behind medical progress, in a highly entertaining book written for the ordinary reader.

Some were bad scientists; others were great scientists and lousy human beings. But the majority of these researchers produced knowledge that now saves millions of lives—priceless discoveries like the role of vitamins in nutrition, the dangers of radiation, treatments for diabetes and deadly infectious diseases, and more. Boneheads and Brainiacs showcases the enthralling, all-too-human personal lives that made modern medicine possible.

1

The First Nobel Prize

The very first Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine was awarded to Emil Adolf von Behring in 1901 for developing a treatment for diphtheria. He was born in Prussia in the former German Empire, in an area that is now part of Poland.

Von Behring received his medical training at the Prussian Army’s medical college. He was also the first of many Nobel laureates whose work was driven by the medical problems of warfare. A huge concern to governments at war was infectious diseases, as it was typical that far more soldiers died from illness than from direct battle injury. Even the injured ones who survived initial trauma commonly went on to die of wound infections. One way or another, microbes were responsible for more war fatalities than anything else.

In the late 1800s, von Behring and his Japanese research colleague, Kitasato Shibasaburo, discovered that something circulating in the blood of people and animals with diphtheria somehow helped them fight the disease. Diphtheria is a bacterial infection that gives the sufferer a severe sore throat and causes a thick leatherlike membrane to form in the back of the throat. (Diphtheria comes from the Greek word for “leather.”) It can cause a person to struggle for breath and eventually suffocate; in von Behring’s day, more than half of the soldiers who came down with diphtheria died from it.

Von Behring and Shibasaburo filtered the blood of diphtheria-stricken animals and isolated a substance they named antitoxin. The antitoxin helped infected animals recover. Von Behring and another colleague, Paul Ehrlich, injected antitoxin into healthy animals, which successfully allowed them to resist diphtheria infection. So it appeared that antitoxin could both treat and prevent illness. The use of antitoxin reduced soldier death rates from diphtheria from 50 percent to 25 percent.

Another first with this Nobel Prize was the tradition of ignoring the contributions of colleagues who were often codiscoverers and who, in many cases, actually conceived of and performed a great deal of the experimental work. In those days, a Japanese national was given the same disrespect as a “mere woman” or anyone of a less desirable race or skin color. In fact, a year before he came to work with von Behring, Shibasaburo had discovered the bacteria that caused tetanus and found that it was the tetanus toxin produced by the bacteria that gave the symptoms of disease. Von Behring and Shibasaburo jointly published a paper describing their experiments on animals using tetanus toxoid and worked together on every step of the groundbreaking diphtheria research, but when the diphtheria paper was published, it carried only von Behring’s name.

The records of the Nobel Committee were made available fifty years later in accordance with the Nobel Foundation rules of secrecy. They show that while twelve nominations were sent in for von Behring, only one nominator also named Shibasaburo. The first Japanese Nobel winner in medicine was not until 1987, when Susumu Tonegawa won for his research in a related subject, antibodies.

It was von Behring’s coworker Paul Ehrlich who did the major work of translating these discoveries into a standard medical product that could be commercially manufactured. Both von Behring and Ehrlich were approached by the Hoechst pharmaceutical company, which offered to pay them for putting their discoveries into large-scale production. Von Behring is reported to have wrangled the deal, arranging most of the profits for himself and leaving Ehrlich with only a trivial share.

Two years after the Nobel, von Behring formed the first biotech startup—the Behring Works (Behringwerke)—which made him wealthy. Von Behring outraged the posh citizenry of Capri, where he had a vast estate, because in 1903, he proposed to convert his land on the idyllic island into a vaccine-manufacturing facility as well as a sanatorium for tuberculosis patients. The public outcry caused him to reconsider, and Behringwerke ended up remaining in Marburg, Germany. Today Behringwerke Industrial Park is a biotechnology center employing over five thousand people working in sixteen companies. Behringwerke itself has been absorbed by the international company CSL Limited.

American laboratories soon took up antitoxin manufacture, but not all of them followed the same exacting techniques that brought success in Europe. In fact, often it was crude local public health department facilities that concocted the vaccines. When thirteen St. Louis children who had been inoculated with diphtheria antitoxin died of tetanus in 1902, it was found that the preparation they had been given was made with serum from a horse that had tetanus. This caused the city to fire its top doctor of public health. The deadly event was a big factor in Congress passing the Biologics Control Act of 1902 (also known as the Virus-Toxin Law), which called for regulations to ensure the purity and potency of biological products. That law paved the way for creation of the modern Food and Drug Administration (FDA).

The D in the DTaP shot given to toddlers contains a purified version of the diphtheria antitoxin. Diphtheria is a disease we do not see much anymore, but even in von Behring’s day, diphtheria was largely limited to conditions of overcrowding, poor sanitation, and the battlefield. His initial interest had been to reduce mortality from infectious disease among the military, where substandard sanitation and overcrowding were routine. In fact, the death rate in the general (nonmilitary) population from diphtheria had dropped dramatically from about 1860 to about 1882. The diphtheria death rate then rose for one decade, dropped steadily, and continued on this decline well before widespread vaccinations were adopted. And improvements in environmental prevention (mainly relieving overcrowding) continued simultaneous to implementation of widespread vaccination, so it is difficult to know with any certainty the degree to which vaccines contributed to this disease not being prevalent today.

Von Behring was reported to have suffered spells of severe depression that caused him to periodically take refuge in so-called sanatoriums. The image of early-twentieth-century madhouses with chained and abused inmates is probably not what von Behring experienced; instead, it is likely he checked into more of a resort-like sanatorium. One such spell garnered headlines in the New York Times in 1907. “Behring Denies That He Is Insane” was followed the next month with “Prof. Von Behring Has Recovered.” The second news piece read:

NAPLES, March 19. Signor Spinola, brother-in-law of Prof. Emil von Behring, the eminent German scientist, is authority for the statement that Prof. von Behring has entirely recovered from the temporary mental trouble from which he has been suffering recently as a result of overwork.¹

However, the official Nobel website reports that von Behring was in a mental institution from 1907 to 1910.

In those days, cancer and heart disease were definite medical concerns, but the greater threat to surviving into old age was infectious disease. Von Behring worked extensively to find a preventive or cure for tuberculosis (TB). Even great scientists can be wrong, and in his case von Behring was convinced that human TB was transmitted by bacteria in milk. We now know the typical TB that humans get is transmitted from human to human by respiratory droplets. Von Behring advocated adding formaldehyde to milk to kill the TB bacteria—a truly horrible, poisonous solution that was rejected simply because it made the milk smell peculiar. At the age of fifty, von Behring contracted tuberculosis and eventually died of it when he was sixty-three, although some reports say the cause of death was simply pneumonia.

1. “Prof. Von Behring Has Recovered,” New York Times, March 19, 1907.

2

The Parasite and The Pest

The 1902 Nobel Prize was won by Ronald Ross for his discoveries about how malaria was transmitted. Malaria is an Italian word that means “bad air” (mala “bad,” + aria “air”), because at one time the illness was thought to be caused by foul air in swamplands.

Humphrey Bogart in The African Queen realistically depicted malarial attacks. The victim goes through three stages: the cold stage, the hot stage, and the sweating stage. Shaking chills last for up to an hour, followed by a high fever (106°F or higher) lasting up to six hours, and then profuse sweating for up to four hours. Symptoms include headache, vomiting, delirium, anxiety, and restlessness. All the symptoms go away when the temperature comes down. In some kinds of malaria, the cycle is repeated every forty-eight hours; in other kinds of malaria, the cycle repeats every seventy-two hours. While plenty of people recover spontaneously, untreated malaria can lead to complications and death.

Previous researchers, including Charles Louis Alphonse Laveran, Patrick Manson, and Albert Freeman Africanus King, had proposed that mosquitoes were the vector that transmitted malaria. It is a mystery why Ross received his Nobel in 1902 for this discovery, while Laveran had to wait until 1907 to be recognized for the earlier discovery of the actual parasite.

Ronald Ross was a British citizen born in India, where his father was a general in the British Indian Army. The young Ross liked to write poetry and plays. He worked at musical composition and did mathematics for fun, but his father pushed him toward medical school. Once he became a physician, Ross was inspired by Patrick Manson, who suggested to Ross that he pursue the study of mosquitoes as the malarial vector (the cause of carrying malaria).

In the late 1800s, Ross was assigned as a medical officer in India, a post that he sought because it allowed him to be in malaria-prone regions. He let a mosquito feed on the arm of a malaria victim and then dissected the insect. He discovered a cystic form of a parasite within the stomach of the mosquito and concluded that this could be the causative organism of malaria. Before Ross could carry out definitive experiments to prove this theory, he was transferred to a town where malaria was not common. His mentor, Dr. Manson, pulled some strings back in England and was able to get Ross reassigned to a swampy area where malaria was rife. In fact, Ross himself came down with malaria but recovered to continue his studies for another two years.

Ross found it difficult to get good experimental subjects because they were medicated almost as soon as they fell ill, so he resorted to experimenting on birds. He was able to trace the life cycle of a parasite from an infected bird to a mosquito and identified the mosquito as gray or brown and “dappled-winged.” This research won him the prize.

However, Ross did not identify the exact species of mosquito in his initial work, not being an insect expert. His experiments were limited to birds, not humans, and he did not prove that the parasite he found could cause malaria in humans. In fact, what he discovered was a different parasite specific to birds that does not infect humans at all.

Meanwhile, an Italian research team led by zoologist and physician Giovanni Battista Grassi was also studying malaria, a grave problem in coastal Italy at that time. Grassi was a serious student of insects of all kinds. He studied worms, parasites, and termites, and even discovered a new species of spider that he lovingly named after his wife.

Grassi and his team correctly identified the parasite-carrying mosquito as being the Anopheles species, described the complete life cycles of the three malaria parasites that infect humans, and demonstrated that the parasites go through mosquitoes and into humans. Furthermore, they established that it was only the female of the species that transmitted the parasite.

The Nobel Committee initially intended to award the prize jointly to Grassi and Ross, but before that could happen, Ross attacked Grassi as a fraud publicly and in professional publications. In severely inflammatory language of the time, he called Grassi a mountebank (a person who sells fake medicine by telling elaborate lies), a cheap crook, and, uncreatively, a parasite. Ross’s protests seemed excessive, and it is no wonder: the ferocity of his attack related to a failed attempt at spying on Grassi’s work. Ross had sent a colleague, Dr. Thomas Edmonston Charles, to make an informal visit to Italy, casually poke around Grassi’s lab, and make friendly inquiries; he was to report back to Ross with the scoop. Grassi correctly suspected the reason for Charles’s visit and apologetically explained that he and his team had not progressed much in their research. Two weeks later, the Grassi team published its findings, enraging Ross.

The Nobel Committee turned to the renowned German scientist Robert Koch to be an arbitrator. By this time in 1902, Koch was already famous for being the “father of clinical microbiology.” In the late 1890s he had gone to Italy to study malaria and interacted with Grassi. Grassi had let Koch know that he disapproved of the German scientist’s analytical methods, so Koch was not a neutral party at all. He sided strongly with Ross, and despite twenty-one nominations, Grassi was left out of the prize entirely.

According to contemporary reports, Ross was a chronically unhappy, arrogant man. In his Nobel acceptance speech, he omitted giving any credit to his former mentor, Dr. Manson. When Ross returned to London, he was offended that Manson recommended him for a position at the Liverpool School of Tropical Medicine rather than the prestigious London School. Ross chronically complained about being underpaid by the Liverpool School and quit twice in protest; he was ultimately fired without any pension.

Ross also failed to build a sustainable private medical practice, while Manson enjoyed popularity and financial success as a private physician. In 1930—eight years after Manson’s death—Ross wrote the book Memories of Sir Patrick Manson, in which he blatantly minimized Manson’s work on malaria and denied Manson’s influence on his own malaria work.

Ross was variously described by his contemporaries as generating professional hostility and being chronically maladjusted, impulsive, and a “tortured man.” He was said to be quick to take offense and capable of magnifying a petty affair out of all proportions. By 1928, he had brought four libel suits against supposed offenders.

The discoveries of the malaria parasite did not immediately lead to an effective remedy. Quinine, from the bark of the cinchona tree, is a malaria remedy dating back to at least the seventeenth century in Europe. Before that, it was used medicinally for centuries in South America. (Quinine is also the flavoring of the “tonic” in gin and tonic.) Quinine and its chemical derivatives are still effective in some parts of the world today, but parasite resistance has emerged in many places. Antibiotics and newer drugs are being used, but they cannot keep pace with how rapidly the parasite develops new drug resistance.

Prevention consists primarily of draining swampy areas and instituting mosquito control, secondarily of using insecticides, and finally of prescribing preventive medications. Since 2010, the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation has been distributing insecticide-impregnated mosquito nets to the ninety-nine countries in which malaria is prevalent.

In the 1960s, the World Health Organization (WHO) led a campaign to eliminate malaria, but its early efforts were not sustained once the initial funding sources dried up. This created an even bigger problem. The WHO campaign drastically reduced malaria for about a generation but did not continue the effective control measures, so malaria returned with a vengeance. The younger generations had never been exposed and were especially vulnerable due to lack of immunity, and resultant death rates were even higher than before.

For example, on the main island of Sri Lanka, the disease had been almost eradicated several decades ago. With no funding for continuation of the programs, malaria now infects ten thousand Sri Lanka islanders per year. WHO estimates that worldwide there are 300 to 500 million cases of malaria with about a million deaths per year.

3

A Bright Future

The 1903 Nobel Prize went to Niels Ryberg Finsen for the application of light therapy to treat skin lesions of tuberculosis (TB). Finsen had a rough start in life. He was born in 1860 on the Faroe Islands—a treeless, relentlessly wind-raked land directly north of Scotland, in between Norway and Iceland. His mother died when he was only six. On behalf of the Danish government, his father collected taxes from sheepherders; sheepherding was the main industry on the islands. Early on, Finsen was a profound disappointment in school. The principal at his Danish boarding high school described him as “a boy of good heart but low skills and energy.” He was transferred to a school in Iceland, where his grades improved, and then he defied expectations by getting through medical school.

Sunlight therapy was one of the first-known medical treatments, and evidence of its use comes from the ancient Babylonians, Assyrians, and Greeks. The Indian ayurvedic healing system assigns specific colors to each of the seven chakras, representing internal organs as well as seats of emotional responses and roughly correlating to what is known today as the endocrine (hormone) system. The Persian philosopher and physician Avicenna of the tenth to eleven...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Contents
• Preface
• Introduction
• Nobel Prize Rules
• Chapter 1: The First Nobel Prize
• Chapter 2: The Parasite and The Pest
• Chapter 3: A Bright Future
• Chapter 4: Science Promotes a Slave State
• Chapter 5: His Eminence
• Chapter 6: The Mistaken Observerand Dr. Bacteria
• Chapter 7: The Obvious Suspects
• Chapter 8: Immunity Wars
• Chapter 9: Accidental Harm, Chocolate, and the Nobel Prize
• Chapter 10: The Perpetual Chicken
• Chapter 11: Another Eugenicist
• Chapter 12: Balance
• Chapter 13: Fighting Infection
• Chapter 14: Blood, Sweat, and Sugar
• Chapter 15: The Gentile and the Jew
• Chapter 16: The Canadian Diabetes Discoveries
• Chapter 17: Reading the Secrets of the Heart
• Chapter 18: Dead Wrong
• Chapter 19: Fever Therapy and War Crimes
• Chapter 20: Of Lice and Men
• Chapter 21: Hidden Vitality
• Chapter 22: Of the Type ThatSaved Millions of Lives
• Chapter 23: Greatest Influence from the Lowest Profile
• Chapter 24: The Brain Is Not the Mind
• Chapter 25: American Genesis
• Chapter 26: Eat Your Liver
• Chapter 27: Shades of Cloning
• Chapter 28: Brain Chemistry 101
• Chapter 29: Starting at the Wrong End
• Chapter 30: Matters of the Heart
• Chapter 31: Brimstone
• Chapter 32: Bleeding Chickens
• Chapter 33: Hitting a Nerve
• Chapter 34: The Rediscovery of Penicillin
• Chapter 35: Godzilla in the Making
• Chapter 36: Sugar Metabolism
• Chapter 37: The Making of a Silent Spring
• Chapter 38: Scrambled Brains
• Chapter 39: More Hormones
• Chapter 40: Nobel Influences
• Points of Interest
• References
• Index
• About the Author